#Johnny fic

[sehunniepotwrites]

FOREVER SUMMER | teaser

SYNOPSIS. They say that three is the magic number, and with you having two childhood friends by your side every summer, you consider this to be true. Summers were always for no one else but you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. You want that to stay the same but of course, nothing ever does. Not when feelings come into play. You’re in love with Johnny, Jaehyun’s in love with you, and quite frankly, you don’t really know how to move forward. So much for the summer of your life. 

PAIRING. Johnny x female!reader x Jaehyun 

GENRE. Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU | Summer!AU | Beach!AU | Lifeguard!AU | Surfer!AU 

WARNINGS. Based on Jenny Han’s The Summer I Turned Pretty, Johnny and Jaehyun are cousins, profanity, alcohol consumption, food consumption, smoking (vaping and weed), nicknames (for her: Shadow, Munchkin; for Jaehyun: Dopey; for Johnny: Jojo), more warnings to come

DISCLAIMER.This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. Crossposted on AO3 by sehunnypot.

“Mom, drive faster!” you yelled from the passenger seat, wondering why you didn’t volunteer to take the wheel instead. With you at the wheel, you would’ve arrived at your destination hours ago. If this was a normal day, your mother would have scolded you for raising your voice at her but this was not any given day. This was the start of your epic summer in Neiho. 

Being in the town of  Neiho for two and a half months meant living in a gorgeous beach house that was a block away from the shoreline. A large two-story structure with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a pool to swim in, and a backyard large enough to run around in–what could be more perfect than that?

The answer to that question was found in the other inhabitants of the mansion. Your twin aunties–not your blood relatives but your mother’s best friends from university–were the co-owners of the house, passed onto them by their parents. When your mom had nowhere to go one college summer, the twins picked her right up and invited her into their summer abode, and a yearly tradition had been formed. Fall, winter, and spring breaks were for other things but summer was always reserved for the beach house on Neiho’s Cherry Lane. 

Even though the three friends who were as close as sisters started their own respective families, the tradition carried on with the expansion. And that’s where the two most important inhabitants come to play–Johnny Suh and Jaehyun Jeong. The boys, as you called them, were cousins who were like brothers to each other. And to you, they were your best childhood friends. 

Being the same age as you, you were closer to Jaehyun–the pretty boy with the dimples and the deepest, dad laugh you could ever hear. Although apart for the majority of the year, Jaehyun never failed to text you at least once a day, whether it be a meme or just a random message that could be deemed as “too much information.” You shared a lot with him and in turn, he did the same with you. To you, that lunkhead basketball man was an open book. 

His older cousin, however, was not. Unlike Jaehyun, Johnny kept some pages closed. There were times when he was inaccessible and neither you nor Jae could read him. If something were bothering him, Johnny would keep it to himself rather than burden you or Jaehyun with his problems. As the oldest, his duty was to shoulder it, shove them aside, and make sure whatever happened didn’t affect you or Jaehyun in any way possible. His pouty lips would press into a thin line, his straight brows would furrow, and his eyes would narrow until you couldn’t see the beautiful honey-brown people would die to swim in. Other times, though, he was like sunshine and his wide smile brightened your days as no one else could. 

“Sit your butt down, child, we’re almost there,” your mother laughed, playfully shoving your shoulder so your butt fell back into the cushioned seat. Her hands turned the wheel and the tires landed on Cherry Lane. She passed one, two, three houses before pulling into the driveway. Before she could put the car into park, your fingers flew to the seat belt latch, ultimately freeing your body from your chair. Never mind that you were leaving your mom to deal with your bags. 

With enthusiasm that was seen nowhere else but here in Neiho, you rushed out of the car and down the nostalgic pathway filled with memories that lingered in your mind. You spotted the garden rocks you painted how many summers before as well as the wind catchers that you created with the boys during an arts class they were so reluctant to take. Holding back a smile at all the familiarity, you shoved the keys already in your hand eagerly into the lock. A twist to the side and your hand on the knob was all it took to open the grand, wooden door. A sigh that came from way deep in your chest let itself out as the cooling air conditioner and the smell of the sea salt vanilla candles blew your way.

With one hand against the clean, white walls, you used the other to slip your shoes off. “Anyone home?” 

Home. That was what the beach house on Cherry Lane was. It was home. 

Loud, resounding pounds from the staircase alerted you that someone was there and you knew exactly who that person was before they made it down the steps and rounded the corner. Always heavy-handed in the way he handled his body, Jaehyun Jeong stomped his way to you, his gait echoing through the quiet hallways. His smile was wide as soon as you landed in his line of vision. The next thing you knew, his body was hurling your way and you had no time to escape what came next. 

“Munch! You’re here!” he yelled into your ear right before lifting and twirling you around. Jaehyun’s voice sounded deeper than the last time you saw him in person. Your surprised squeal drowned out his low-toned laughter and your feet kicked against the hard core he worked on in the last year. 

“Put her down, Jae, before you break something,” his mom, Jieun, called from the steps, a fond smile taking over her face. Her features matched the ones on Jaehyun’s goofy face sans the reddened ears and cheeks. 

Her sister and Johnny’s mom, Hyesoo, peeked out of the kitchen to add to the scolding. “Jae, if you break something, you’re gonna have to replace it with your own money, honey, so be careful!”

“Listen to them!” you whined as his hands continued to dig at your side. “You’re hurting me!” 

He adjusted his grip. “Yo, how’s the weather up there, Munchkin? Better than down here, I hope,” Jaehyun teased with a cheeky smile. 

“Shut up, Dopey!” You kicked him in the abdomen harder than the last and his stronghold loosened just enough for you to wiggle away. 

As you caught your breath from laughing too hard, you took in your best friend’s appearance. Jaehyun’s wetsuit was half on–the top half folded right at the waist–while his buffer chest was slightly covered by the heathered tank top he probably threw on in a rush. Honey brown hair unstyled and strands thrown every which way, he still looked like the same boy you remembered. Just a tad bit taller and bigger than before. And to top it all off, his dopey smile had you mirroring one too.

You bet that the girls in his major department went crazy over him. You’ve heard some of his stories through your weekly FaceTime calls–from his short-termed girlfriends and situationships and friends with benefits–but none of those ever lasted. Curiosity bit at you, wondering why they never did, but you respected Jaehyun enough not to pry. If he wanted to, he would tell you. 

“Hey there,” Jaehyun chuckled again, his large hand coming up to your chin to squish your cheeks in between his fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him, spit landing on the back of his hand. Jaehyun gave you a look of disgust, wiping the wet spots against your shirt. You’d think at twenty-one, the pair of you would outgrow childish habits but that wasn’t necessarily the case. 

“Just say you’re happy to see me, damn.”

“Never going to willingly admit that,” you retaliated with a shit-eating grin.

Jaehyun’s hands zoomed back to your face to pull at your cheeks. His tough grip tugged them so hard that it stung a lot more than it should have. Your consecutive slaps against his chest finally got him to stop and while you rubbed your cheeks better, he stifled his laughter behind his palm. 

“You might not be happy to see me but I am always happy to see you, Munch,” Jaehyun pressed a wet kiss on your throbbing cheek in return.  You were too busy tending to your pain to realize the redness that took over the tips of his ears. His mother and aunt were not. Giggling at each other, they enjoyed the boy’s embarrassed state, loving the fact that you were the only one to get him that pink.

“You’re something else, Jae,” you shook your head at him before rushing over to your aunties to hug them. You missed them both. 

“Baby, don’t just stand there,” Aunt Jieun scolded her son, coming over to slap him against his bicep, “go use those muscles that you keep bragging about and help your auntie carry their stuff into the house.” The boy, dorky as ever, saluted his mother and ran out the door in his broken-in Rainbow sandals. 

“Where’s Johnny?” you questioned. A glance around the house and you couldn’t see him anywhere. It was unlike him to not greet you as soon as you entered the property. Your heart dropped a little at his lack of presence. 

“Oh honey, your one-track mind never changes, does it?” Aunt Hyesoo grinned at you with a knowing twinkle in her eye. You pouted at her and she simply poked you in between your curled-up brows. “John’s out surfing. We told him to wait until after you arrived but he promised he would be back before your pretty little face showed up. Knowing him, that boy probably lost track of time.”

The front door swung open and slammed against the wall only to reveal a sheepish Jaehyun. Once again, the boy underestimated his strength. If one were to look at the wall behind the door, they’d spot a dent in the wall from all the rough handling but that’s a thing everyone in the house let go of. Holding the door open, Jaehyun allowed your mom to roll her luggage in first before hauling your load in. As the three mothers reunited, Jae nudged his sharp elbow to your side. “I was about to go join Johnny for a bit, wanna come wi–”

“Yes, let’s go, let’s goooooo!” Not even letting your best friend finish his sentence, you snatched the keys to his mother’s Rav4 and headed out the door. “We’re heading out!” You called behind you before barreling out the door with your tote bag in hand.

Jaehyun trailed right behind you with his deep laughter ringing through your ears. When you didn’t toss him the keys and remained at your spot on the driver’s side, he hesitated to get in the unlocked vehicle. His lack of movement made you roll your eyes. You had gotten your license last fall at the age of twenty so driving was no problem for you. At least, it wasn’t anymore. If you went back to the previous summer with you at the wheel, Johnny at your side, and Jaehyun behind you, you would probably say otherwise. But that was then. You were twenty-one now and had almost a year of driving experience under your belt.

“Get in the car, my driving’s better now, I promise.” The engine started at the twist of your hand and Jaehyun remained outside with a hardened look on his face.

“Sure it is, Munch,” he replied with a brow raised. 

“It really is, how else would I be able to get my license?” A few bats of your lashes and a pretty pout were all it took for Jaehyun to cave in and buckle himself in the car. He could never say no to you. Johnny was a little harder to break–he was a tough cookie to crack–but in the end, little old you were always his weakness. 

A defeated sigh escaped Jaehyun’s pink lips. “You’re lucky I love you so much.” 

Jaehyun’s little profession of love made you warm inside, just like your never ending friendship. “The luckiest girl in the world.”

“And the prettiest,” Jaehyun joked, swiping at your cheek.

“Ew, is that how you flirt with all the girls back home?”

“Why? Is it working?” From the corner of your eye, you could see his brows dance. “Are you finally falling for me? It’s about damn time.” 

“Absolutely not. Disgusting.” 

“Damn, and to think, I could have finally had a chance with the prettiest girl in Neiho.”

“Oh shut up.”

The beach was a two-minute drive away. If it weren’t for Jaehyun’s surfboard mounted on top of the car, you would have been fine with the seven-minute walk or the short bike ride to your perfect little paradise. The midday crowd had made its way into the beach’s car lot, leaving a tiny compact space for you to wiggle into. Your first few tries weren’t successful, even with Jaehyun’s guidance, leaving him to laugh at your attempts before you switched places. Johnny would have never teased you like that. 

Jaehyun parked the car slowly yet successfully as you waited outside with crossed arms. He shot you a smug look, complete with his sunglasses sitting on top of his nose bridge and a smirk that lifted one plump cheek. 

“Don’t say anything,” you pointed a finger at him. “I have trouble in compact spaces.” 

“Wasn’t gonna,” Jaehyun cheekily answered as he started to take his baby blue board down the rack.

Huffing, you turned your body away from your best friend and faced the shoreline. One breath was all it took to inhale the calming scents of the ocean. The sun beamed down on you; while others hated the direct light, you didn’t mind it. Accompanied by the soft breeze making its way through your loose hair, it was a perfect beach day. Your past self was right to wear your two-piece under your clothes instead of your undergarments. 

Leaving Jaehyun behind, you stripped your loose top off, slipped off your Birkenstocks, and sunk your toes in the sand. The gritty, warm feeling surrounding your skin was something you missed dearly. Others hated the texture of sand–how it was coarse and hot, and how it got absolutely everywhere for no apparent reason–but it excited you. Feet running on autopilot, they led you straight to where the ocean met the shore. Dry sand turned wet, causing you to sink, sink, sink deep into the ground and you loved it all. When the cool rush of water hit your skin, you loved it even more. You closed your eyes and sighed, taking in the sounds of the waves hitting the rocks. 

You opened them just in time to see a tall, built surfer riding a clean wave with no breaks. He made the sport look effortless when you know that in fact, it was not. At all. When the figure reached the shore not too far from you, the man planted his surfboard right in the sand. His height was not too far off from the item itself, which was a feature many onlookers admired. 

After reaching down to catch some water in between his fingers, he ran that same hand through his thick dark brown hair, pushing his wet bangs out of his way. Your mouth began to split into two at the sight of him. Even without seeing his entire face, you knew that sharp jawline and stature anywhere. You saw it every summer, towering over you in a protective stance. The hands running through his hair used to hold yours whenever you had your scary movie marathons and the sculpted arms attached to them used to press you tightly against his chest whenever you needed comfort. 

There were so many times your thoughts drifted from the topic at hand to that face and build. Dreams. Daydreams. Little scenarios in your head that fed the monster called delusion. 

With tunnel vision for that man alone, your feet took you straight to him and your voice called out his name. “Johnny Suh!” 

Johnny’s hands immediately reached behind him as you catapulted yourself onto the broadest back you had ever seen in your life. Your arms circled his neck and your bare legs coiled around his waist as he held you in place with no complaints. Your dry body pressed against the cold, damp wetsuit but you didn’t care. You were with Johnny now. 

To you, the older of the boys wore many hats. He was your long-time friend. Your protector. Your crush. Your mom, as teasing as she gets, also referred to him as your first love. Your aunties rallied behind her with that and you always found it embarrassing. But loyal as they were, your secret never slipped past their lips. It was one for the girls, they would always say. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun caught on at some point–if he did, he never uttered a word. 

Johnny turns his neck to glance at you. His eyes took notice of the sparkle in your eye and the bright light of your smile and it brought that charming grin out to play. “Aren’t your clothes going to get wet?” he chafed, tugging on the thin fabric of your loose linen shorts. 

“Don’t care,” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. His smile widened as you did so, the whiskers by his nose appearing out of nowhere. “Saying hi to you is more important than my clothes, Jojo.”

“Well then, hi.” The way Johnny said that two-letter word had your heart racing. It was soft and sweet and endearing. It was everything Johnny was. And it was beautiful. 

“Hi.”

He tapped two fingers on your thigh. “You ready to get down yet?”

“Nope.”

Johnny chuckled again and with your chest pressed tightly against his back, you felt the vibrations it caused. “Looks like my little Shadow finally came back to me.”

Shadow–that was what he called you. 

It all started when your moms noticed that you were so infatuated with the older boy that you stuck so close to him, following his every movement. When he would stand, so would you. And in turn, Jaehyun did too. When Johnny would want ice cream, you would copy him and state that you craved some too. And when he joined a volleyball camp at the country club, you tried to join too, only to be turned down because you were a girl. It upset you to no end at the young age of nine, that Jaehyun could follow the twelve-year-old Johnny but you couldn’t. To get rid of your sorrow, Johnny–although tired–played with you at home and taught you every little skill he learned that day. Your hobby only developed from there. 

“Looks like it,” you giggled. 

No matter how far you were or how much time had passed, you would forever remain as Johnny’s shadow. Just like Peter Pan’s shadow always found its way back to the leader of the Lost Boys, you would always find your way back to Johnny.

Your little moment was interrupted by the one and only Jaehyun, who has his surfboard lifted above his head. So into being within proximity to Johnny, you failed to notice the tiny drop of Jaehyun’s happy demeanor. “Dude, you done for the day or?” Jaehyun asked his older cousin, gesturing to the waves. 

Johnny turned to him with you still hanging like a koala on his back, happy that you are reunited with your two boys. “Nah, I was thinking about catching a few more before heading back. Tide’s pretty good today.” 

“Sweet,” Jaehyun grinned, his tiny little fangs peeking out as his mouth widened. He pointed his chin to the clear, blue water. “Let’s go?” 

Johnny tapped your thigh again and released your legs from his hold. “You okay with that, Shadow?” 

You nodded, patting your purse. “I got my audiobook, I’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t want to surf today?”

You tried your best to fight the warm flush taking over your body. “No, I was…too excited to see you, I guess. Didn’t want to change or grab my board.”

Johnny shot you a soft and tender smile. “You sure it wasn’t the beach calling your name? You always couldn’t wait to get down here.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking up at him. 

“Next time then,” Johnny reassured you. “Missed having you out there with me.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. How was he so good at that? Johnny was too good at making you feel like mush and he didn’t even know it. It was no surprise so many of the people you hung out with growing up had a crush on him. 

“Alright then, what are we waiting for?” Jaehyun shouted, raising his board high and running straight for the water. “First surf of the summer, let’s fucking goooooooo!” His loud voice faded out as he got deeper and deeper into the water. 

Johnny’s large hand quickly ruffled your hair and you swatted his grip away, grumbling as you did so. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either.” His overprotectiveness came into play. The warning was unnecessary, seeing how all the summer kids knew each other. It was like a big reunion every season, with parties and bonfires all around. Running into someone at the beach was far from surprising, in fact, it was expected. 

You waved him away, already busying yourself by setting up your spot a bit further from where the sand met the sea. Your AirPods were out and your phone’s camera app opened up, ready to take pictures of the beautiful scenery and your boys. “Stop worrying, I’ll be right here. Go.”

Johnny left, but not before giving you a little shove to the side of your head. You snapped multiple pictures of his back as he ran to his board with Jaehyun already riding a wave in the background. The sun was beginning to set, making the skyline the perfect backdrop for your pictures. Waiting for the next wave to hit, they sat on their boards. At one point, they shifted to wave at you, and being the person you were, you took more candids of them and sent it to the group chat with your parents. 

You slipped on your AirPods and continued onto a new chapter of the audiobook you started on your road trip here. The waves were loud enough to hear through your headset and the orange sun didn't blind you as much with Jaehyun’s sunglasses resting on your nose. This was the perfect way to spend your first day back at Neiho. 

With the amazing weather, the two best boys in the entire world, and the prettiest beach you have ever laid eyes on, this was going to be the best summer ever. It had to be. It was the summer before your last year of university. After graduation, your whole life could and would change. And you, as headstrong as you were, wanted this to be the perfect summer. 

The summer of all summers. 

The summer you would remember forever.

LIFEGUARD'S NOTICE BOARD. Hi y'all. This fic has been on the backburner for a while and I've slowly started to pick it back up again. This is only the first scene in the grande scheme of things that idk will ever be completed BUT it was too good to keep in the drafts! Tell me what you think: are you Team Johnny or Team Jaehyun?

TAGLIST. (tagging anyone who is on my gen taglist and people i talked to about this fic!) @johtenrecs @justalildumpling @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @smileysuh @smileyerim @taelme @moonctzeny @lebrookestore @baekhyuns-lipchain @donutswithjaminthemiddle @ahcaratzen @espresseo-cafe @turtash @ravenjoongie @omlhyuck @cryingforjae

© sehunniepotwrites, 2023

[haespoir]

bf!johnny texts

req: by anon 💌

a/n: 수건 is pronounced like su-geon… so you can see where that joke went.. and johnny said: “did you just laugh at me?” it’s inspired by his reply to haechan laughing at that one compilation of him and mark’s english/korean!

[dalivanmagritte]

FIC REC: JOHNNY SUH

back the nct fic rec

favs

i'm here to save you (smut, abo!au)

classics (smut)

watching a filthy magazine (smut)

ghostie (smut)

set up (smut, college!au)

alternate universe (magics, gods, royalty, etc...)

forever mine (smut, mythology!au)

going for the gold (smut, olympics!au)

johnny as diaonysus (fluff, demigod!au, mythology!au)

with another member

the box office x haechan (slight jeno, jaemin, jungwoo) (smut)

danger x jaehyun (smut, abo!au)

can you handle it? x jaehyun, jeno, jaemin (smut)

morally gray (and tw)

indulgence (dubcon, smut, serial killer!au, detective!au)

switch x jeno (DUBCON/NONCON mentions, smut, neighbour?au)

chain (part.2 of switch) x jeno (DUBCON/NONCON mentions, smut, neighbour?au)

catastrophe part.1 part.2 part.3 (DUBCON, hybrid!au, smut)

[saturnznct]

dad!johnny | insta posts 2

nct masterlist

[pearl-neo]

Paranoia

Pairing ⬩ Reader + Johnny

Genre ⬩ psychological thriller \ suspense \ mystery \ angst

Length ⬩ 13k — one shot

Plot ⬩ After a year spent living as a shut-in, you finally agree to go on a drive with your sister. When a storm steers your plan off course, you find yourselves brought closer to two charming strangers—but an unsettling tension lingers in your mind.

Warnings ⬩ anxiety; agoraphobia; implications of depression; ongoing feelings of helplessness, general discomfort, self-doubt; mental breakdown; minor violence; character death

‹ Note › The feelings/mannerisms that come as a consequence of (mild?) agoraphobia in this story all come from a personal place. I don’t mean to make light of anyone’s experience with mental illness.

Disclaimer! I don’t know any of the nct members personally, and would never claim this is how they behave/think in real life. They only inspire me to write these stories, and I think of them as a cast of actors like in a drama or movie. It’s never my intention to project on or disrespect any of the people mentioned.

A sliver of light escaped through the window blinds as your fingers pulled at one of the blades. Despite the clear and sunny sky outside, it was dim in your apartment. It often was. Your eyes rejected the foreign light for a brief moment before they readjusted.

Outside, a pale pink Cadillac convertible was parked in front of the building’s entrance. The kind where the back just above the tail lights rose in a theatrical peak on either side. The roof was down, revealing the velvet white interior. You liked the velvet, it was comfortable; you could almost remember what it felt like.

Although, right now, it only served to remind you of how much time had passed since you were last in it. Maybe a year, maybe a little longer than that… Right before your driver’s license got revoked and you gave up entirely.

“Are you gonna keep staring at it, or are we gonna go get in?” Your sister quipped from behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Not that this isn’t a killer view.”

Even though you appreciated her keeping up a humorous air for your sake, you could still feel the tension. She had been trying to get you to go outside for at least an entire year. Yet you still always managed to back out at the last second.

“We’re absolutely not going to get out of the car?” You asked, probably for the tenth time now. For the whole duration of this past month, you would ask and she would reassure. Over and over again, that it would’ve made anyone else sick of you by now.

She squeezed your shoulders. “Nope, just drive around. Eat something nice. Drive back home before sunset. We’ll get on the coastal highway so there won’t even be that many cars.”

Opening the front door wasn’t a problem—online shopping was basically your lifeline. The slight nausea began only after you stepped out for the first time. Autumn was coming to an end, with the beginnings of a fierce winter approaching eagerly on its heels. The cold wind bit at your flushed cheeks, and you closed your eyes to take it in before willing yourself forward.

It almost didn’t feel real. That somehow made it easier.

The sky was so blue, the trees so green, you couldn’t quite stop staring as everything sped past you. The sun breathed life into the colors of its surroundings in a way that it could never fully achieve inside your apartment. Even having the sun directly on your skin felt foreign. Car roof down, the chilly wind engulfed you in waves.

Soon, you were on a curving highway by the sea. The road was flat and stretched as long as you could see, with only the odd car here and there. What you could only describe as psychedelic pop music played in a pleasant volume in the background.

The drive would be four hours long, two to the end of the coastal road and two back, but you took that as an excuse to stop by three different drive-throughs to assemble what was surely going to be a magnificent spread. A car picnic was part of how your sister had managed to entice you, after you saw some characters on a TV show do it. She even let you pick all of the food.

Breaking the trance-like silence, you said, “I don’t know if I can stand the smell of that food much longer…”

“Same,” she said, “we’re almost there, you see that?”

She nudged her head at a square brown building in the distance. It looked like one of those rest stops that would have a shabby family pool up front. You felt a sense of relief that you wouldn’t have to go in. Maybe you would get the courage to venture out of the car next time. Or maybe the time after that. You let your mind wander as you got closer and closer.

There was one other car already parked there, a jet black Brabus G Wagon. It was a monster of a car, so big and square you thought it almost looked like an armored hearse. When your car pulled over a few spaces away from it, it still managed to dwarf you by comparison.

The music kept playing as the pair of you laid out all of your food, placing it on a checkered picnic blanket that you had covering the trunk of your car, and pushed the front seats as far as they could go for you to stretch your legs out on.

Thankfully, the food was still hot when you took it out of the thermal containers. You had yourself to thank for that idea, so you mentally patted yourself on the back.

“The chicken is all limp,” your sister whined after she picked one up. Just as you reached out for a strip yourself, a drop of cool water landed on the back of your hand and slid off to the side. The colors had grown faded, and the air felt different.

“Oh no.”

And just like that, in under a minute, a few stray drops turned into one of the quickest downpours you had ever experienced. A strong wind came and blew some of the smaller containers off, while you both rushed to hold down whatever you could.

“This doesn’t look very partly cloudy,” your sister laughed. You admired her ability to laugh it off while you panicked and scrambled around dramatically, making a mental note to never trust the weather forecast again.

“Go on, you bring up the car roof and I’ll take care of these,” she called to you over the wind that was continuously growing louder.

The moment you let go of what you’ve been holding down, they slid away from you but mostly held their place (for now). The retracted roof only budged by the tiniest margin despite your incessant pulling. All this rain must’ve done something to it…

At that moment, the door of the black SUV opened and a young man with soft facial features half-jogged to your car. Fighting your instinct to recoil, you found yourself avoiding his eyes instead. You really weren’t ready to talk to anyone. Not to mention, you didn’t get a chance to do any mental preparation for it.

He, on the other hand, had an effortless smile on as he approached, and you almost rolled your eyes at yourself for noticing his dimples right now. But you didn’t, your brows furrowing instead.

“Hi,” he called, “let me help you.” Smoothly, he joined you in pulling the roof up. You could only manage a small “sorry” but your sister added a friendly “thank you!”

He was only wearing blue jeans and a lightweight white sweater. The expensive kind of fabric you wouldn’t want to get wet. So you glanced at him with guilt as it got wetter and wetter.

“It’s like it’s nailed down,” he laughed, eyes squinted in what looked like embarrassment.

“Oh!” he added, looking behind you. You turned to see one more young man coming out of the rest stop this time. It was a bigger guy dressed all in black. Despite his tall and muscular build, something about him was gracefully cat-like.

“Johnny! Could you give us a hand?” The dimpled guy beckoned him over, although he was already on his way to you.

“What’s up? Ah.”

Soon, it was all three of you yanking at it together. Ridiculous. For some reason, it didn’t feel any different than when you were pulling on it by yourself. You prayed that it would be over as soon as possible. You could already feel your breath constricting—even looking their way was difficult. Like they were radioactive.

“Okay, I don’t think this is working out. We might actually damage it if we keep this up,” Johnny said, looking between the three of you, “you’re better off coming inside for now. At least until this storm is over.”

You looked over at your sister, who had just successfully put away all she could save from the food, which was now stacked in a corner in the back seat, getting pitifully hammered by the rain.

Her smile was stretched from ear to ear. You tried to catch her eyes and somehow telepathically communicate to her how uncomfortable you felt, but she had already moved on to observing the dimpled guy’s physique.

Under other circumstances, you would’ve found it funny that you could see the exact moment she snapped out of it. But you were sad to admit that over the past year you rarely found anything funny anymore. A few moments later, her eyes found yours, apologetic.

“Actually, we really need to get going,” she turned to them. “Thanks for your help, though!”

Owing to the storm, it had gotten darker much earlier than anticipated. A glance at the road ahead only discouraged you further when you saw just how thick the fog had gotten—even with the roof up, driving in this weather would certainly be a questionable choice… You would never forgive yourself if you were the reason your sister got into an accident.

Frozen with your hands clenched by your sides, you mentally talked yourself into it. Just one night. Clearing your throat, you gave a hesitant “okay. Let’s go in.”

Her eyebrows shot up in response. “You sure?” Even though she was offering otherwise, you could see how tired she already was. You could also feel the eyes of the two men on you, although you didn’t look up to confirm it.

“Yeah. It’s too dark. We’ll leave as soon as the sun comes up, okay?” Although your words were directed at her, part of it was also said to yourself for reassurance. You continued in a low voice, forcing yourself to look up at them, “uh, thank you so much for trying to help.”

“No worries,” the dimpled guy smiled at the both of you.

If your sister had a tail, she would’ve been wagging it. It was hard not to see that she had a type. The dimpled man, who had a laid-back demeanor and a twinkle in his smiling eyes, was exactly the type she always gravitated towards. The type that looked like he would never hurt you.

A stagger in your step, you found your body resisting the walk inside. Something felt very wrong in your gut, twisting a knot into your stomach. Sharp feelings of regret started to find their way into your mind at having offered to stay. Today wasn’t supposed to go this way. You weren’t supposed to run into anyone.

It could’ve been your imagination, but you felt Johnny’s stare linger on you as you finally followed everyone inside.

*

You were wrong about there being a pool by the entrance of the rest stop. That was probably for the best, because everything else looked fairly uncared for, and the rain only exaggerated all the dirtier aspects.

Past the small courtyard covered in dead (and now, wet) leaves, and a lone vending machine with a few snacks covered in a thick layer of dust, the four of you walked through a smaller door leading to the lobby.

It was just as shabby on the inside as it looked on the outside. Dim, warm-toned light-bulbs provided less-than-ideal lighting so that you could only just make out your surroundings. A musty smell wafted your way almost as soon as you stepped in.

“I’m Jaehyun, by the way,” the dimpled guy’s voice made you turn, and you saw that he still had a relaxed smile on. You and your sister introduced yourselves as Johnny went ahead to the front desk, which was manned by an old woman and her cat. The cat sat with its front paws tucked into its chest, unfazed by the new guests.

“Are you guys staying here, too?” Johnny called back to the two of you.

“Go on,” your sister encouraged. You shot her a look, and she returned it with two thumbs up, miming you can do it.

Keeping any further signs of discomfort to yourself, you agreed that you were in dire need of practice. Given that you hadn’t spoken to anyone other than your sister for the past year, even the thought of a brief exchange with a clerk was enough to set you on edge. You approached the counter with heavy feet.

“Good afternoon,” you started, but the woman spoke right away in a sharp tone. “No vacancy. Under repair, dear.”

“Oh. Well… We’ll just wait in the lobby then, if you don’t mind.”

Your sister had moved on with Jaehyun, the pair of them talking by the entrance. Sopping wet and looking giddy, their laughter and voices were drowned out by the storm outside.

Johnny looked down at you then back to Jaehyun across the lobby before offering ��you guys can crash at our room if you want.”

His smile was cat-like to boot, and he was even bigger up close. Absurdly attractive, too. Something about that almost made you queasy, but you passed it off as your nerves building up. How long was the storm going to last?

“We couldn’t. Thank you for your offer, though.” You managed to return a small smile, but by then there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. Interest? Amusement?

It must’ve been something you didn’t like, after all, because you hurried away and hooked your arm through your sister’s. She took her time before finally turning away from Jaehyun and back to you.

Deciding it was best to speak away from Jaehyun’s ears, you dragged her farther away. Just in case he felt charitable enough to repeat the same offer—at this point, you weren’t so sure she’d turn it down.

“No vacancies. We can just wait in the lobby for now,” you relayed, steering her towards the waiting area. At least you would get it to yourself.

There were only two shabby couches facing each other, with peeling wooden legs and faded out green fabric. With a start, you noticed for the first time that it wasn’t empty after all.

There was someone sleeping with his legs stretched out on the floor in front of him, ankles crossed. His head slumped forward so that his red hoodie obscured his face, his arms folded against his chest. He was only as big as you or maybe a little taller. Strange. You hadn’t noticed any other cars parked outside.

“Is he with you?” Your sister whispered to Jaehyun, who had followed the pair of you and was suddenly looking around the lobby awkwardly, brows slightly furrowed. He shook his head no.

There was still water dripping from the ends of his hair. He must’ve noticed you unconsciously stare, because he said “I’ll go get us some towels” and went up a narrow set of stairs to their room. Johnny glanced up at him only for a second, before going back to playing with the cat on the counter. The cat squeezed itself past his hands and stalked away into the shadows somewhere.

Why was Jaehyun sitting in the car, if they already had a room with their things in it?

“She doesn’t like us very much,” Johnny said to himself, his tone light. You don’t know why your heart did a little jump. He was talking about the cat. Not you. Right?

That was a non-ideal time for him to look straight at you. But nevertheless he approached, and his quiet walk reminded you of the cat he had just been petting. When he got close enough that it made your body tense up, you were relieved that he didn’t stop and instead kept walking past you.

“Forgot something in the car,” he said to no one, and left the lobby.

A pang of guilt sounded in your chest. You knew you were coming off as stand-offish, but you had your set limits. Especially today.

Your sister had her back turned to you, and was observing a large, muted painting of a tall ship sailing through turbulent waters. There was an ornate but faded golden frame around it.

Reaching out for her hand, you opened your mouth to say something, and—

“Towels?” A smooth voice spoke up behind you, and you spun around so quickly that you almost twisted your neck.

“Aww, thanks!” Your sister took one and let it fall over your head before taking another for herself. That made Jaehyun laugh, twinkles in his eyes. Everything seemed to make him smile or laugh, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

You grabbed the towel off of your head and absentmindedly held it out to your sister until she took it, then you turned to follow Johnny out into the rain.

A cold hand gripped your arm, stopping you. Turning around, you saw Jaehyun’s pale face staring back at you. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you go out there again. Do you need me to get you something? Your roof is open anyway, so I don’t need your keys.”

Next to him, your sister was looking at you with a puzzled expression. You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, and said “uh, no… No, nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“You okay?” Your sister put her arms around you. “Long day, huh,” she said, rubbing your back.

“Yeah.”

When Johnny came back, you noticed he didn’t have anything in his hands.

What did you forget in the car? You wanted to ask him. But you knew better than to share what was on your mind, with everyone around.

You cursed under your breath at Jaehyun, who was still buttering up to your sister. The curse wasn’t only for how stuck to her he was, or how taken she was with him. It was also for how despite that, he still wouldn’t let you follow Johnny outside.

Although you supposed you had yourself to blame for that, too. It’s not like he forced anything on you. But somehow, when he told you not to go, you felt rooted in place and could no longer do anything other than what he told you to do. Somehow, your body was under other people’s control more than it was under your own.

The whole past year, you had felt yourself slowly slipping—you had been at a war with yourself that went on for so long it left you only as a ghost of who you once were. A silent shadow etched onto the pavement you once sat on.

All the new activity must’ve been noisy, because the sleeping man (boy?) took a deep breath in, sat up, and stretched his arms out in front of him. When he looked up at the three of you and his big eyes caught the light, you decided it would be more accurate to call him “boy” rather than “man.” Wide, circular glasses framed his youthful but angular face.

He immediately looked away and awkwardly drummed his hands on his knees. His clothes were wet, but his hair was dry underneath his hoodie, so you guessed that he must’ve ran in just before your group did. Probably while you were all struggling with pulling the roof up.

“Hi there, storm messed with your plans, too?” Your sister scrunched her nose at him playfully. “Sorry if we woke you, by the way.” She was still rubbing your back.

“No, not at all! Um, I wasn’t actually sleeping or anything. I just ran in a few minutes ago, actually,” he said, “that storm really came out of nowhere! And there was nowhere else to stop… so, yeah.” he paused, then added “I’m Mark.”

You introduced yourselves, and Jaehyun asked if Mark wanted him to check the front desk for a towel for him.

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” he pulled his hood back and shook out his hair, running a hand down its front to calm it down. Something made you instinctively look to your side, and you caught Johnny quietly staring at Mark. His eyes looked different when he wasn’t smiling. He glanced back at you, and that blank expression disappeared just as quickly.

Johnny took that as a chance to address you. “Hey, could I talk to you for a second?” When you nodded, his hand brushed gently against your wrist and led you to a more private space.

“I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier.” He leaned into you, his voice soft. “It wasn’t my intention…”

“Don’t worry about it,” was all you could scrape together. You’d be lying if you said this hadn’t caught you off-guard. That being said, you still kept your defenses up. You were a naturally wary person. To be honest, you weren’t even sure what he was apologizing for.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, so…” You trailed off. You used to be so much better at talking.

“Didn’t I? Asking you to share a room with a stranger you barely just met,” he gave a soft laugh, and you could feel his warm breath on your face. Peppermint. Was it just you or was he closer now than when the conversation started?

Feeling the heat rising to your cheeks, you realized you needed to end this exchange soon—you weren’t ready for whatever this is. Willing yourself to continue, you said “you were just being considerate. I can understand that.”

“Is that so? Well, we’re in room two if you change your mind,” he countered, only half-joking, a glint of whatever you caught in his eyes earlier still there.

“But hey,” he said, as he reached to take his jacket off, “it’s chilly out here, so at least let me give you this.” He draped it over your shoulders and walked away, letting his reiterated offer hang without rejection.

* *

The rain outside was relentless. The gaps in the wood of the windows had the cold wind whistling through them, and rattled the glass rhythmically. It made your bones feel damp. Your sister had you wrapped in a tight hug both for her warmth and yours.

Quite the opposite from how you were feeling, these circumstances had her vibrating with excitement at all the possibilities. She adored movies where a random ensemble of characters were stuck together and had to find ways to get along.

Much to your sister’s disappointment (and your relief) Jaehyun and Johnny had went up to their room soon after that encounter. Thanks to the lack of Wi-Fi, she had spent her time so far pestering Mark out of boredom. As the conversation went on, he had loosened up and politely entertained her with whatever random topic she sprang on him.

It was just like your sister to quickly get people to open up to her wherever she went. But soon enough, even she was running out of things to talk about with Mark.

The pause in the conversation left enough room for your sister’s ears to perk up, picking up on the noise coming from down the hall. Considering the fairly small size of the rest stop, and the fact that you watched the two men walk into the room right across from the few steps leading up to the corridor, you could somewhat see their door from here if you strained your eyes hard enough at the dark.

The gap between the door and the floor told you that their lights were still on, and seeing the shadows moving around was the final push your sister needed to bounce up and practically skip there, dodging your desperate hands that clambered to pull her back down.

“Shh, I’m bored, I’ll just go see what they’re up to, that’s all!” She giggled. Your heart just threw itself against your ribcage miserably, in slow but heavy thumps. All the will in your legs escaping, you accepted that you probably wouldn’t be able to get yourself to stand up and follow her. You were under an invisible binding spell. So you and Mark watched her disappear down the short corridor.

She knocked a musical tone on the wood of their door, and it opened in no time, unleashing the light from their room and illuminating their silhouettes. Judging by the size of it, you guessed that it was Johnny. His head bobbed, going along with whatever she was saying to him.

He stepped aside, and your body tensed even more when you saw her go in. From here, it was hard to make out his features as he stood still, facing you. Was he looking your way? He held that position for a little longer before finally closing the door and drowning the corridor back in shadows, making it seem darker than it was before.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the corridor. It was as though everything stood still as you watched that door. Almost like all your surroundings shifted, steadily bringing you and that door closer, everything else around you disappearing.

Mark cleared his throat, asking “are you okay?”

That made you snap out of your hyper-focused state, sparing him a glace before returning it to the corridor. “I think so. Sorry.”

“Um… Do you wanna, like, go after her?”

You nodded, almost as though you were given validation to move. Just as you braced yourself to get up, the door opened again. The sight of Johnny stalking down the corridor and coming towards you made you stop, confused.

He sank down into the space next to you, casually flashing you a smile. “Hi again.”

You gave him a curt nod in reply, before impulsively shifting your gaze away. When your eyes found him again, through a great deal of effort on your part, they lingered this time. At that, his eyebrows went up inquisitively.

“Is everything okay?” He finally asked.

Before you could answer, you jumped at the sight of your sister already approaching you with Jaehyun on her tail. You really must’ve been out of it staring at Johnny…

As they maneuvered to find an empty spot to sit, the pair had ditzy smiles across their faces, and you could even see a hint of childish mischievousness.

“You won’t believe what Jaehyun here had in his suitcase,” your sister teased, both of her hands holding something behind her back. “Which was immaculately organized, by the way. But…” She pulled out a long rectangular box, and it took you a moment before you recognized that it was a Jenga tower. “Who the hell travels around with this thing?”

All four of them laughed at your sister’s presentation, and you felt like the odd one out for not having it in you to laugh along with them. Your sister plopped down in the space between Jaehyun and Mark, and began setting up the tower on the short coffee table that stood between the two couches.

“We might as well make use of it, right? You’re all playing,” she said. After that, it was mostly quiet as she finished working on it. It wasn’t plain wood like what you usually saw on TV, but instead with blocks tinted red and green.

“How about you go first?” You found your sister pointing at you excitedly. Now that she was guaranteed time spent together with everyone for at least the duration of one game, she was practically bouncing in her seat. And you knew perfectly well that she didn’t plan on letting it end after only one round.

“Let’s go!” Mark clapped, saying your name to hype you up.

You reached out and plucked an easy red block towards the top of the tower, which you were eager to set back on the very top to get everyone’s eyes off of you.

“Not so fast,” your sister said, finger twirling playfully in the air, urging you to pick the block back up. When you did, you noticed a line of small print on the underside of the block:

Whisper one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the person on your left.

Truth or dare. You never thought it was something that you would have to come across again as an adult. When participating was unavoidable, you had always defaulted to truths. But looking at it now, you concluded that the green blocks must be truth and the red ones must be dare. Although this one felt awfully a lot like both.

“Well?” She pushed, “read it aloud!”

“Whisper one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the person on your left,” you read, and Johnny perked up as he held his long hand up to his ear. Pathetically, your own hand shook as you leaned forward to set the block back.

“The darker the better,” Johnny winked at you.

“Oh. Well…” For starters, telling him anything personal was out of the question. What was something believable you could come up with on a whim? Finally, you leaned into him as close as you could get yourself to go (which wasn’t very close at all) and whispered “I cheated on my college final.”

“That’s all you got?” He feigned an expression of disbelief.

“That’s all I got.” You said, deflecting.

“You’re welcome to give us a dark secret of your own then, mister the darker the better,” your sister teased, earning a playful nudge from Jaehyun, who seemed to be enjoying driving Johnny into a corner.

“Oh, trust me, I have plenty,” Johnny’s tone was lighthearted, but your eyes met his and you caught that same look from before, lurking just beneath the surface. He didn’t look away, almost like he was pausing to savor your discomfort, so you broke eye contact first and cleared your throat.

“Mark, your turn.”

When you glanced up at Mark, you caught his eyes darting from you to Johnny. Too caught up in whatever was going on between you two, you had failed to notice that Mark was somehow under the same blanket of tension. Or at the very least, he was an observer. Had Johnny noticed?

Mark mirrored you in clearing his throat, then pushed a finger into a block towards the middle of the tower. A green one stuck out on the other side, and he reached around to take it. Truth.

“What is the most childish thing you still do?” He read.

“And try to limit it to one, kid,” Johnny stared ahead at Mark, his calculated smile delayed.

So he had noticed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark said, although he was visibly trying to keep his tone light. Meanwhile, a laid-back Jaehyun still had his amused smile on as he watched Johnny. When Johnny didn’t comment, Mark moved past it and gave a half-baked answer to his prompt.

“Finally!” Your sister gave an exaggerated sigh, probably relieved to have the focus shifted away from Mark and Johnny’s strange tension. She went straight for a red block, picking out a dare. “Hm, dance with no music for one minute… See, no, that’s no way to treat the game master.”

“Game master?” Jaehyun echoed, grinning.

“Yep. You may be the landlord for packing the Jenga, but I dug the thing out, so I hereby officially declare myself game master. Everyone kneel—or actually, I’ll settle for some singing this time.”

Johnny held a conceding palm out to Jaehyun, who pondered for a moment before slipping into smooth singing. You weren’t surprised by how it sounded just as rich and smooth as his speaking voice did.

“I fall in love too easily,” he sang extra slowly, earning a smack on his shoulder from your sister for picking a ballad, followed by some passionate head-banging as she pretended to dance at a rock concert.

“I fall in love too fast,”—his voice broke at ‘fast’ as he held back his laughter—“I fall in love too terribly hard,”—it was getting harder for him to maintain his composure when Mark and Johnny didn’t share his reservations, with Mark clapping like a seal right next to him—”for love to ever last... Okay, okay, I think the minute is up. You’re gonna dislocate something.”

Out of breath, she flopped back down onto the couch, hands busy fixing her wild hair. “Your turn,” she panted to Jaehyun, “And don’t be lame. Dares only.”

“Okay, dare it is,” he laughed. Then proceeded to laugh even harder when he read out his dare. “Serenade the person of your choosing.”

Needless to say, of course your sister was serenaded twice in one night.

The game went on for a while, with Johnny, Jaehyun, and your sister routinely picking dares. The group would eventually get loud enough to warrant an occasional scowl from the old lady at the front desk, until it was late enough for her to call it a day and disappear into a door tucked away behind the counter.

Meanwhile, you and Mark had mostly stuck to truths, as the Jenga tower grew more and more unstable. It was Mark’s turn again when he picked yet another green block.

“Name one thing you’d do if you knew there would be zero consequences.” He read in a drowsy voice, going on to give a quick answer. “I don’t know, I guess I’d knock some snacks out of that vending machine. I don’t know why I said that, I wouldn’t actually do that. I really am getting kinda hungry, though…”

“Your mind went straight to burglary? You guys better watch your bags tonight,” Johnny said, and what you assumed was supposed to be a humorous jab came across a little too sharp-tongued. Everyone’s energy levels had been depleting over the past couple of hours spent on the lobby’s less than ideal couches.

“I’m sorry, do you have some kind of problem with me?” Mark retorted.

“I don’t know, should I?” Johnny said.

“Dude, if you have something to say to me, just say it.”

Your sister pushed herself off the couch. “Well, I’ll go use the bathroom until you guys figure this out like big boys.”

“Nice and condescending, yeah?” Johnny said, not bothering to look up at her as she retreated to their room.

Jaehyun hid his evident enjoyment long enough to hold both of his hands up and say “okay, guys, how about we take a break?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Johnny shot back, his face anything but. His demeanor was scarily calm throughout the entire exchange.

That cold atmosphere went on for the next few rounds. You hadn’t forgotten that you were merely attempting to get along with strangers you knew nothing about. Johnny with his two sides, all calculated smiles and concealed stares. Jaehyun with his eerily laid-back demeanor and strange enjoyment of the conflict. And Mark. You didn’t know what to think of him yet.

With the added tension, you stopped trying to look up at any of them.

Before you knew it, it was your turn again. Would this cursed game ever end? So far, you had exclusively picked truths and lied your way through all of them. Your eyes scanned the tower over several times, before you gave up finding a green block that was stable enough. You picked your second dare of the night, this time voluntarily.

Let the group look through your phone for one minute.

A whole host of reasons rushed through your mind at how bad of an idea that was. At the very least, they would know that the only contact on your phone was your sister. You had virtually no pictures, and no apps. Everything pointed to your ghost-like life, so empty and unremarkable that it was practically a burner phone.

“Well?” Jaehyun said.

“I don’t want to do this one.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Johnny asked.

“She just told you she’s not comfortable with whatever it is, though.” Mark spoke up, having mostly kept his silence for the past few rounds.

Johnny reached for the block in your hand, and your body flinched involuntarily, the block flying out of your hand and skidding across the floor.

“Whoa,” Johnny hung back, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna do anything.”

“I think you’re scaring her, Johnny.” Jaehyun said, his voice ominously quiet. Was there a hint of a smile in his voice? Were you imagining things?

“Am I?”

No one said anything for what felt like a long moment, until finally, as if on queue, your sister was back in the lobby.

“What did I miss?” She said, entirely missing the atmosphere of the room.

Johnny reached forward and tugged one of the legs the tower was supporting itself on. The entire thing came crashing down.

“Oh.” She stopped midway, hovering awkwardly next to them. “Okay then.”

“Good night.” Johnny said, getting up and giving you a brief pat on the head, before slowly making his way back to their room. Your scalp felt like pop rocks as you watched him walk away.

* * *

It was past midnight. Now it was just the two of you again, along with Mark. Your sister was sleeping soundly next to you, her head on your shoulder.

Mark was still awake on the couch across from you, but he was back to sitting quietly in the corner and avoiding eye contact. Save for the occasional accidental eye contact with you, which he responded to by sending a small smile your way before going back to aimlessly staring away.

His hands were curled around the warm thermos your sister had given him earlier. He set it down when the owner’s cat sauntered towards him, and patted his lap for it to come up. It deliberated for a moment, then jumped and curled up on him as he stroked it.

Your mind couldn’t help but go back to your interaction with Johnny, running it over in your head again and again until you had positively squeezed the life out of it. One minute he was cold and calculated, and the next he was the gentlemanly romantic lead. Or at least he knew how to make people perceive him that way.

You shivered—the weather was getting colder.

“Mm?” Your sister looked up at you, eyes barely able to open.

“It’s nothing, go to sleep,” you reassured her, then took the chance to get up now that her head was no longer resting on you.

The front desk was empty now, but you attempted to ring the bell on the counter anyway. A while of waiting made you accept that no one was coming. It was probably safe to assume the old lady ran this place by herself, and was most likely asleep by now.

You needed to go to the bathroom. A quick look around led you to a door with a sheet of paper taped to it, reading “Staff Only.” You twisted the doorknob, your guilt a second priority right now. Locked.

It might have been the hope of almost finding a bathroom, but suddenly your mild need for it turned into a more urgent one. You looked around some more, before cursing under your breath and going up the narrow staircase that led up to the rooms.

To your surprise, the hallway was very short. It was even darker than the lobby, so you gave your eyes some time to adjust. There were only three doors, the one in the center had a brass number 2 on it, and was right across from the staircase.

We’re in room two, if you change your mind, Johnny’s captivating voice played in your mind for what felt like the hundredth time. Feeling your heartbeat speed up again, you took deep breaths and willed yourself to calm down. The other rooms were under repair, but maybe their bathrooms weren’t.

First, you attempted to open the door with the brass 1 on it, but it didn’t budge. Then the one with the brass 3, but that one wouldn’t open either.

You clenched your fists and cursed your terrible luck. Would they even be awake?

After a lengthy struggle, consisting of an internal argument about whether you’d rather ask them for help or go out into the nearby wilderness in the middle of a storm, you knocked on the door of the second room.

As you waited, you glanced back down the stairs behind you, your eyes searching for your sister. She was now lying down on the couch, breathing deeply…

The door springing open made you jump, and Jaehyun was positively beaming in the center of the door frame. Following a quick scan, his smile faltered when he realized your sister wasn’t in tow.

He looked like he had just showered, his hair damp again, and his skin glowing. Johnny was stretched out on the bed behind him, awake.

“Welcome,” Jaehyun said, picking his spirit back up. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, but would you mind if I use your bathroom?” You died a little on the inside.

“Of course not, come in,” he made way for you, and you abandoned your last remaining shred of dignity as you sprinted to what you assumed was the bathroom. Jaehyun giggled behind you before you closed the door and finally got some privacy.

Despite being done, you stalled going back out, probably out of dread. You supposed it was in your favor that the bathroom was by far the cleanest place in the entirety of this pit stop. A quick look around told you that Johnny and Jaehyun were comfortably settled in. An electric shaver was strewn on the counter, and a travel-sized toothpaste tube lay feebly next to the sink, almost all used up. Peppermint.

Finally, you took a deep breath and opened the door. You were immediately met with Johnny, who was leaning on the wall by the bathroom, not even an arm’s length away. Behind him, Jaehyun was nowhere to be seen, and the door leading out of the room was closed.

Momentarily dizzied from the blood rushing to your head, you took a step back to create some distance.

He smiled sweetly, “the storm sure is taking a while to settle down. Where were you two on your way to, again?”

“Just a short trip. They’re expecting us back at work tomorrow.” You lied, knowing full well there was no one there who would notice your absence, save for your sister.

“Oh, you two work together? Jaehyun and I work together too, actually.”

His eyes watched you patiently as you flipped imaginary pages in your head, scrambling for something normal to say next. You felt like it would be the polite thing to do to continue the conversation, but your heart was beating too fast for that, which made you that much more nervous and jittery. Johnny seemed to be enjoying your visible anxiety. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination that his smile was getting wider. Something about it wasn’t so sweet anymore.

“I should get back. To the lobby, I mean. Thanks again.” He didn’t lock the door, did he? The nausea was creeping back up.

You speed-walked to the door like you used to do when you were little, when you were alone in the dark and scared of whatever thing that might snatch you and drag you away before you reached the light. You could only feel fear. Fear of how powerless you felt about everything.

It felt much longer than it should’ve but you reached the door. The hair on your neck stood and your breath quickened. You turned the knob, and it swung open.

In a hasty moment, you tripped at the first step of the stairs, and a big arm grabbed you around your waist. You could see Johnny’s profile in your peripheral vision, curling down for his cheek to meet the side of your head, slow breaths against your ear. His chest rose and fell gently against your back; he was holding on so tightly.

He felt like a solid wall, and you knew it was impossible for you to get away unless he was the one who chose to let go of you. He alone should’ve been able to pull up the car roof with ease.

“Back when we were playing that game,” he said, his voice so low you could barely hear it, “did you feel like I was gonna hurt you?”

What was he saying? You left his words unanswered as you were still engulfed by your silence.

From here, you could see that your sister was still sleeping peacefully, and Mark had his head turned away. Nevertheless, just having your sister in your sight helped soothe your nerves. That feeling was fleeting as Johnny spoke his next sentence.

“Are you scared of me?”

Trapped in what felt like an iron embrace, you opened your mouth but you still couldn’t make any noise come out. Some hunch or instinct, or maybe just pure chance, must’ve been what made Mark’s head turn your way out of nowhere.

He was staring for a while with an expression that told you he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. His eyes must’ve finally adjusted to the darkness of the hallway, because he suddenly got up, making the cat on his lap scuttle away offended.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

The entire building let out a groan, and whatever dim lights were there all blinked out simultaneously, plunging you into complete darkness. Johnny held on for a few more seconds before finally letting go. You ran down the steps without looking back.

Mark called your name, his voice alarmed, “is everything alright?”

Your throat was still squeezed shut, as you walked into something and stumbled in the dark until you felt your way to the couch your sister was on. Your hands found her sleeping from, and you shook her awake.

“Get up, we’re leaving,” finally finding your voice, you spoke sternly. She was still in a daze and clearly confused.

“Wha- what? What?”

“We’re leaving. I’m gonna call us a ride, I just need you to be awake with me,” you stammered. Your sister sat upright, most likely still processing.

Mark’s voice spoke up. “It’s pitch black outside, the roads around here aren’t lit very well. Did something happen? Are you okay?”

You couldn’t put it into words. The familiar dread that built up in your gut.

At this point, you just wanted to go home and shut yourself in again.

You ignored Mark, and ruffled through your bag for your phone. You went through every corner of it four times, your heart sinking deeper with each try. “My phone is gone. Where’s my phone?”

Without waiting for a reply, you tossed your bag aside and felt around for your sister’s this time. Also gone.

“Wait, mine’s not there either? That’s weird…” Your sister went through hers again for good measure, her voice thick with sleep. “Do you think we left them in the car?”

“No, I always have mine on me.” Something suddenly occurred to you. “I was awake the whole time, wasn’t I?”

You felt your sister shrug next to you. Hesitantly, Mark answered instead, saying “I don’t know, you both kinda drifted off at some point.”

“And you? You were awake?” You pushed.

“I was, yeah. I went to check on my Vespa for a second.” You couldn’t quite grasp what it was, but something was off about Mark’s voice.

Paranoia now had you firmly in its grip. You decided it was best to watch your words until you could see again. But you couldn’t stop a wave of helplessness from washing over you, making your limbs go cold.

“Could we borrow your phone, maybe?” You asked Mark. One final attempt.

“Oh, man, I sent it for repairs this weekend,” Mark said, apologetic. Why did his voice sound like that?

“Let’s go.” Resolute, you grabbed your sister’s arm and attempted to head towards the exit.

“Just give me a minute!” She said, releasing her hand from yours. “You go on and get the car started, okay?”

You hesitated, before making up your mind and following the only source of light, out into the storm.

The rain immediately battered down on you, and if you thought it was cold in the lobby then this was absolutely freezing. You could only barely make out the silhouettes of the parked cars.

If you just turned on the headlights all the way, the two of you could probably drive through the dark. And if you kept moving, the rain wouldn’t bother you. You had the keys ready in your hands, and you were grateful that at least they were still in your sister’s bag. Maybe you really did forget your phones in the car, after all.

But something was squirming in your gut, making your stomach do desperate flips as you jumped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind you.

You slid the key in the ignition and turned. Nothing. Not even the sound of the engine trying to start. The sounds of the howling wind and heavy rain carried on.

Reaching for the glove compartment, your hands found the flashlight, and a weak beam of light pierced its way through the darkness. You stepped out of the car, wrapping your other arm around yourself to stop from shaking. When the hood of your car was open and you shined the light at its interior, you doubted your eyes.

The battery was gone.

You were just silent. Your own worse fears coming into realization right before your eyes. After what felt like a second and an eternity of staring down at the empty spot in the hood, you felt a light touch on your arm when your sister joined you by your side. She looked exhausted, her breathing heavy. Calling over the storm, she said, “should we ask them if they can do something about this?”

Your head snapped to her in bewilderment. Could you be wrong? You doubted yourself for a second, but then got a grip back. There was no other explanation. You were stuck here, and it was too late to speak up. The words collided into themselves and were left mangled somewhere in your throat. But you had to say something, anything.

“Listen,” you started, and she looked at you attentively, concern clouding her face, “I think—”

“Is something wrong?” A voice spoke up from behind you. Jaehyun. Again.

“We were just talking about you!” Your sister chimed. “Take a look at this. Think someone stole it?”

You were dumbfounded as he leaned in between the two of you to take a closer look at the car’s contents.

“Mmm,” he didn’t look very surprised. He turned to your sister and said “we can give you a ride tomorrow morning. You might need to get it towed.”

“Okay... I can barely hear you. Let’s go inside?” She turned to you. Your face must’ve looked terrible because she did a slight double take and put her hand on your shoulder. “Come on.”

Shining the flashlight ahead, the three of you walked back to the rest stop.

When you were back inside, Mark was gone.

* * * *

At least an hour must’ve went by until Johnny was back. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he came in, just silently sauntering past the lobby. He was completely soaked again from head to toe. Drops of dark water trailed behind him as he made his way back to their room.

You resolved that you would find a way to take your sister and leave any way you could. Maybe you would find a way to take their car. They were only human, they had to sleep sometime.

For now, Jaehyun was still in the lobby with the both of you.

“You don’t think he took our car battery and our phones, do you?” She was talking about Mark. Your sister was sitting next to Jaehyun and mostly addressed him, since she hadn’t gotten a word out of you after you failed to leave. Having Jaehyun hovering around took away any of your will to speak up.

“He didn’t seem like the type…” She trailed off, still thinking about Mark.

The night felt longer, probably because of the changing seasons, but it might as well still have been midnight. You lost track of how much time was going by and doubted yourself when you remembered that this has all been just one long day. The power was still out. You had the flashlight off to conserve its battery.

Down the hall, you heard the room open, and after a minute you felt the cushions next to you gently sink with a familiar weight.

“I found some candles and lit them in our room,” Johnny’s voice spoke up. You could only see his outline and features like a hazy dream. You avoided looking at his face. You were too tired.

There was a soft, dancing reddish light coming from their room now. Gently, Johnny spoke again. “It’s too dark out here, isn’t it? Let’s go inside.”

Your sister shifted, and you noticed for the first time how close she had been sitting to Jaehyun. Were they holding hands? You didn’t know if your mind was playing tricks on you. She got up before your eyes could decide what they were looking at.

“I need to wash up,” she said, sounding just as tired as you felt. Getting up, you followed her to their room. You couldn’t care less if you looked completely unhinged, sitting on the floor right in front of the bathroom door after she closed it.

“You two are so close,” Johnny spoke though the dark, face hidden in the shadows cast by the candle light. You still refused to look up at him, but you could hear the tone of amity. The candles on the night stand behind him exaggerated the size of his shadow and made it dance over you.

“You look tired,” his voice was gentle, surreal, “get some rest.”

You hugged your knees closer to your chest, fighting to keep your eyes open. The sound of the water running in the bathroom was steady. Your eyes kept rolling back into your head, and you kept dragging them back into focus…

But they were so unfocused…

And the steady stream of the shower ran…

And everything swayed in the candle light…

Everything swam…

and the water ran…

and ran…

You dreamed that Johnny was carrying you and wading through a crimson sea. Gently. Gently.

You were floating in crimson.

Or was he the one floating?

Daylight. Your body woke up with a jolt, eyes snapping open. The first thing that screamed out at you was how incredibly sore your body was. It must’ve been from all the tension that you had built up. You were curled up on your side, holding your own body close.

Small mountains of white sheets were piled up around you, and strips of sunlight draped over the bed and made their way to your skin. It was so silent; last night’s storm almost felt like a distant dream.

Moving excruciatingly slow, you lifted your head and looked around. Your heart hammering in your chest when you saw that Johnny was sleeping over in the other bed, his large frame rising and falling slowly with each breath.

The bathroom door was open, and you could see from here that it was empty, too. It was only the two of you in this room.

Logically, you knew that there was still a possibility that Jaehyun and your sister chose to sleep on the couches outside. But there was a pit in your stomach that crippled you. It made it hard to move. Hard to think.

As quietly as you had it in you to move, you left the bed. The cold floor against your feet made you notice for the first time that you were barefoot. Good. With quiet footsteps, you made your way to the bathroom to double-check. The floor was wet under your feet, like someone had walked in from the lobby straight to the bathroom not that long ago.

But just like you suspected, it was empty. The curtains drawn shut over the bathtub caught your eyes, but one look at the material told you that it would be too noisy to try and move it right now. It was too quiet for anyone to be sleeping there, anyway.

You turned back towards the bedroom door, taking glances behind you to make sure Johnny was still asleep. You didn’t take your eyes off of him as your hand gripped the doorknob and turned it. It opened without resistance, and you peeked outside at the lobby past the staircase. Empty.

Trying to slow your breaths and breathe more quietly only proved to make things worse for you. It was as though you were running out of air. Before you could give your brain more time to panic, despite your overwhelming instinct to just run out and start calling for your sister, you walked back towards Johnny, who looked so peaceful in his sleep that your own panicked state was almost laughable.

At this point, you must’ve gone out of your mind, because suddenly you found yourself fighting the urge to laugh. You were hysterical. You had to stop and put your hands over your face, as your body shook with silent laughter, but tears started to stream down your face.

Thoughts of your sister were racing through your mind. Maybe she really was cuddling up to Jaehyun last night. Maybe they went somewhere together. Maybe she thought she’d be back before you woke up.

But you knew deep down that she wouldn’t leave you behind. You were so convinced of that, that any what ifs you tried to feed to your worry, to keep it from consuming you, just felt forced.

You knew she wouldn’t leave you because she knew how fragile you were after what happened last year. You were so fragile, you saw everything through the lens of a horror movie. With your own little cast of strangers.

Something caught the light just outside of your line of vision, halting your chaotic train of thought. Your hands wiped away any tears that lingered on your eyelashes so you could see more clearly. There, carelessly tossed away on the nightstand by his bed, a set of keys were reflecting the sunlight. Among them was a car key.

Well, if you really were crazy, then you might as well see where it led you.

The closer you came to Johnny, the harder it was to breathe. Until you couldn’t bear to do anything but hold your breath. Finally, when the keys were within your reach, your hand closed around them. There was only the slightest sound of scraping against the wood of the nightstand.

With no time for you to worry about the sound the keys had just produced, Johnny’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist. But it didn’t stop. His grip got tighter and tighter until the ends of his fingers yellowed, and your hand shook and dropped the keys with a clatter. Even so, he didn’t release his grip.

“Where were you gonna go?” He spoke slowly.

“It depends—where’s my sister?” You shot back, voice shaking.

He laughed quietly. He had a gentle laugh. Finally letting go of your wrist, his hand instead brushed through his hair. “I told her you might get worried. You must’ve gotten a scare… Sorry about that.”

You turned to him with an inquisitive look, hanging onto his words. He looked sleepy and relaxed, his hair tousled. Not like someone who almost broke your wrist less than a minute ago.

“Jaehyun told me about all our phones going missing, and your car battery. That Mark might’ve made away with them or something. He and your sister went to pick up a new one.” He explained. And as you listened, your heart sank.

“Okay. Please take me to her, then.”

“You know, I think they wouldn’t have minded some time alone, too,” he chuckled, “but sure, if you’re so worried. I’ll take you.”

Passing through the lobby, you noticed the old lady was back at the front desk. Were you brave enough to finally say something? Everything in your body screamed at you not to, straining your muscles into place.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you used any strength you had left and turned to approach her. Before you could go on, you felt Johnny’s hand hold onto your upper arm and pull you closer, wrapping you into a hug by his side.

“Let’s not waste any time,” he whispered, and held on as he led you all the way out of the rest stop. He only let go of you when you were in the shadow cast by his giant car.

The day you stopped for the car picnic, you had parked farther away on the left side of it, but as you approached the other side of his car this time, you saw what had been obscured by the SUV. A turquoise Vespa came into view.

Mark’s.

Seeing it sent goosebumps down your back and up your neck, but you dragged yourself away. You couldn’t afford to comment on it right now, not to Johnny. You would talk to your sister when you saw her…

A sting creeping into your eyes warned you of incoming tears, but you blinked them away rapidly, not ready to face a possible reality. When you saw your sister, you would tell her everything you had on your mind and you wouldn’t care who might be listening in.

Johnny was making his way to the driver’s side when you spoke up abruptly, before you could help yourself. “One more thing?”

“What is it?”

“I just want to get something from the car. My sister’s car.”

“Go ahead,” he leaned an arm over the car roof as he waited for you.

In the trunk, a few thermos flasks were stacked neatly to the side, with small labels taped to them, reading “12” and “24” and “48.” Your sister had always been meticulous when it came to packing. This would be all you had of her with your right now. You found the one labeled with the number twelve, and hugged it close to your chest. Twelve would do.

For now, you walked with your own two feet right to what felt like your doom, and hoisted yourself up into his car. A second after you got in, all the locks snapped shut.

* * * * *

He drove with the two of you in silence for a while, his eyes focused on the road, one hand on the steering wheel. You were getting farther and farther away from the rest stop, in a stranger’s car, your sister nowhere in sight.

Reality finally crashed into your chest like an icy wave. The tears you were holding back fell down your cheeks, making your chest heave in small, irregular breaths.

Incoherent thoughts raced through your head, and you started hyperventilating, your seemingly never-ending tears threatening to choke you.

“Hey, hey,” Johnny reached his other hand out, the one that wasn’t on the steering wheel, and brushed his long fingers against your face, lulling you, “deep breaths. In… out… that’s right. Just like that. In… out…”

Your rattled breathing slowed, your mind halted.

He didn’t turn your way once, his cold stare on the road, face expressionless. But his voice was gentle. Effortlessly soothing. If you looked hard enough at his face, maybe you could find something you wanted to find. Maybe it wasn’t cold. Maybe he was just tired.

“What are you so afraid of? You’re safe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He sounded so reassuring that for a long moment you doubted that anything out of the ordinary had happened today. Maybe you were just imagining everything. Maybe your isolation had finally gotten to you.

You were glad someone kind like Johnny was here to look after you.

Taking his outstretched hand into your own, you nestled your face into his palm and closed your eyes.

“Good girl,” he said.

That was the last thing he said for a while.

Hours must have passed by the time you realized you had fallen asleep out of exhaustion. Orange hues now stretched across the sky in broad strokes, clouds almost dissipated. Next to you, Johnny was still silently driving, soaked in the orange light. Everything was so saturated, it looked like a painting.

“How did Jaehyun leave without his car?” You asked, your voice coming out small.

“This is my car,” Johnny said. “But we came with two. I told you, we work together.”

“Oh.” Somehow, the more time you spent with them, the more you didn’t have it in you to know more about them. Ask about their life or what they did for a living.

“You know, I had this car modified. It’s sound proof. And bullet proof, even.”

“Hm.”

The silence was strangely comfortable now. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on the headrest.

“You cold?” He asked.

“No.” You said, your hands unconsciously pulling in his jacket tighter around your frame. “I never thanked you for giving me your jacket… Here. I want you to have this,” you handed him the warm thermos. The last thing you had of your sister’s.

Somehow, you felt like everything would be okay. Just like he said it would be. He gave a grateful smile and took slow mouthfuls from the flask, as you watched the sun outline him through his window.

The trees that were scattered more sparsely before now gathered into denser bunches the farther along the road he drove. Before you knew it, you were driving into the middle of a forest thick with pine trees. The car rocked left and right underneath you as the ground grew wilder. At some point, all directions started looking identical.

Eventually, the car slowed into a stop and he cut the engine. You were surrounded by nothing but trees, in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. “Get out,” Johnny said, not looking your way.

The silent bubble you were in was broken by a rush of cold wind when he opened his own door, stepping out. Following him out into the forest, the smell of pine twined with the cold air seeped into your lungs. The silence was only broken by the sound of Johnny’s and your shoes against the vegetation.

Your body felt so heavy with sleep, it only exaggerated your dream-like state of mind. The orange light of the sunset warmed you to your core. You were the calmest you’ve been in a very long time, as you followed him deeper and deeper into the forest.

“Where are we?” Your own voice sounded jarring against the silence.

“Jaehyun likes it here. It’s quiet, and there are no eyes around. I’m just making a guess that they made a stop here.”

The trees parted and the sea revealed itself for the first time. It had been years since you were this close to it, and the air coming through over the water felt nice on your face.

Johnny had stopped walking ahead of you, and you were now the one in the lead. You stopped as soon as you got to the edge of the water, staring down at the crimson ripples.

There was a trail in the sand that looked awfully a lot like something heavy had been dragged away, back towards the thick of the trees.

“Why are we here, Johnny?”

Johnny’s arms reached around from behind you, slowly, wrapping you into a snake-like embrace, his broad hands curling around your frame. His movement was tentative, like he was giving you a chance to pull away.

It was quiet for a while before either of you said anything.

“Back when we were playing that game,” he repeated, before stopping to recollect his thoughts, and starting again, “look, I know I haven’t known you for long. But this whole time, I was watching you, you know.”

“It’s just… Something about you seems off,” he continued, “You’re scared of everything. And there’s the way you walk all folded into yourself… I wasn’t sure at first. I thought maybe you were just having a bad day. Then I thought maybe that guy Mark was bothering you or something. Until you flinched at me like I was gonna hurt you.”

For the first time, nerves were evident in his voice, “like… I don’t know, like that’s something you’re used to. Like you’re in trouble… Or you’re trying to hide from it.” He paused to take a shaky breath, his words dripping with uncertainty, his voice odd. Just like Mark’s had been.

“You seemed like you’ve been trying to say something these past couple of days. No one is around here right now, you can talk to me. Whatever is going on with you, I think I can help.”

You kept your eyes ahead of you, watching the sea. There was nothing you could say or do now. You understood now that last year’s events had their claws on you too deep to shake off. You were a haunted house.

Like how he had been holding you back at the corridor, his embrace lingered. But this time, he let it linger indefinitely. It was comfortable.

You don’t know how long the two of you just stood there in silence. Over time, his grip loosened just a little but kept hold. Then it loosened more, until it completely slipped away from you. There was a loud thud behind you when he hit the ground, but you didn’t turn around. Caught on watching the crimson ripples for a moment longer.

You still had twelve hours.

That would be enough.

When you finally turned around to face his slumped body, your eyes didn’t go up to scan the forest. Instead, you trained all of your focus on Johnny, because you knew everything counted on these next coming moments. Because you couldn’t let things end like they did last time.

Getting down on your knees, you pushed his heavy body until he was flat on his back. Then you put your hands around his neck and squeezed.

You knew how hard you needed to do it to cut off someone’s air supply. How long you needed to keep it cut off until it was too late. So you knew your limits perfectly well, and how to do it just enough to be convincing. Just enough not to really hurt him.

And when your hands finally withdrew from his neck, you stayed perfectly frozen in place, not moving a muscle or making a sound until you could make sure that he was drawing the shallowest of breaths again.

Finally, your hands roamed his pockets until you found his car key. Your grip wrapped around it tightly.

A rustle and the crunching of leaves told you that your spectator had finally come out of hiding. The crunching stopped as your sister walked onto the sand of the small beach. She was scanning your face carefully. In her hand, a long metallic baseball bat.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t be able to do it.” She said, proud.

“You told me I would develop a taste for it sooner or later.”

“And I guess I was right, huh,” she teased, nothing different from the usual way she spoke. She didn’t let go of the baseball bat as she raced towards you and drew you into a big hug. “I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe it’s finally happening! We’ll be so good together!”

Your body tensed up, and she withdrew to look at your face. “Something wrong?”

“No! No. I’m just… tired.” You pulled her back into the hug, spinning your bodies ever so subtly. Shifting her view away from Johnny.

“You’re acting weird. Are you mad at me?” She said.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You could barely stand looking at me after last time.”

You mustered up everything in you to stop your voice from wavering. “Because it was my first time ever seeing anything like that. There was… so much blood. There was so much blood on you, I would see it again in my mind every time I looked at you.”

She drew away from you again to give you an understanding look, before saying “Well, now you can do things your own way. No blood. Right?”

“Right.”

“We’re in this together, right?” She beamed at you. You nodded in a silent reply.

“You’re avoiding my eyes again,” her face dropped into a cold stare almost instantly.

“I’m not… I told you, I’m just tired. I wanna go home.”

“I know I promised we wouldn’t do anything this time… But you know I can’t keep doing this alone. It just doesn’t feel the same. We’ve always done everything else together, and I wanted you to finally accept this side of me.

"You accept it now, don’t you? You just did it, too. You just killed someone! We’re the same now,” her eyes were shining as she kept filling the silence. “How did it feel?”

“It felt… It- it felt,” you stuttered, “I was the most scared I’ve ever been in my life. I want to go home now. Please?” You felt the urge to throw up, which you held down by swallowing your bitter saliva repeatedly.

Thoughts of Jaehyun and Mark weighed heavy on your mind, and thoughts of what she would do if she noticed Johnny’s shallow breaths made your body start shaking out of your control.

“Wow, you’re really taking this hard. Shhh,” she held you to her side, supporting you back into the woods, “it’s okay. It’s okay…”

“Is Jaehyun here? Is he somewhere in this forest?”

“He is.” Her reply was curt.

“And Mark?”

“Poor baby…” she cooed like she was talking about a wounded puppy, “he followed me right out into the storm. So eager to help. After I was done with him, he had to spend the night out in the rain. I had to lay his body in the bathtub the morning after, early enough while you were all sleeping.”

“Oh.” Bathtub… Bathtub…

You left her with him. Why did you leave?

“Anyway, we’ll need to actually go get a battery now. I don’t think the one I took out is usable anymore.”

“Hm.”

“Which car do you wanna take back? I got Jaehyun’s keys. It’s a pretty nice car. He had good taste in music, too.”

Had… You were the one who agreed to stay at the rest stop.

And it cost two people their lives. 

Your step faltered. “Johnny’s.”

She side-eyed you, “you’re talkative. Okay then, lead the way.”

It felt as though your blood had entirely escaped your body by the time you were back by the car. The keys were clutched so tightly in your hand that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they drew blood. You doubted that you would’ve felt it right now.

“Can I drive?” You asked.

“Ooh. Are you sure?”

“I think so.”

She gave you a proud look once again, and she threw the baseball bat into the car before she finally got into the passenger seat. You, on the other hand, had been pretending to circle around to the driver’s side after having used the remote control key to activate the locks. Ten more seconds before deadlock would be activated.

Nine… You walked as slowly as you could, but not slow enough to draw any suspicion.

Eight… What would happen to her if you turned her in?

Seven… What would happen to Johnny if you didn’t? And every other person after?

Six… She said she wanted you two to be together. You would be. You were just as guilty.

Five… You were positive that these were the longest ten seconds of your life. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Four… Your eyes betrayed you as they stole a worried glance at her.

Three… She held your eyes for a moment, before you watched a slow change in her expression.

Two… Her eyes went wide, realization dawning on her face. She lunged at the door, and—

One.

You couldn’t hear her screams as she thrashed at the door handle, shouting something at you. Then, all at once, she stopped. There was a crazed expression on her face as she pulled out her baseball bat. She waved at you before pointing at it, giving you a wild smile.

Your heart sank. Your knees weakened under you and made you slump to the ground like a rag doll, using your arms to brace yourself against the soil of the forest.

It was over.

You had ruined everything.

Of course it wouldn’t have worked.

You betrayed her.

What were you thinking?

She swung the bat at the window by the passenger’s seat, and you couldn’t do anything but watch in stunned silence as she bounced right against the glass. Coming back for a more charged swing than the one before it, she bounced back as harshly as she had swung.

And then you remembered why you couldn’t hear her screams one bit from out here. Johnny had modified the car. It was soundproof. Bulletproof.

You scampered away from the car, your legs still refusing to carry you. She wasn’t giving up, baseball bat bouncing off the glass over and over again. When she finally stopped, staring into your eyes like an animal whose leg got caught in a bear trap, your heart hammered so loudly that it was all you could hear.

Please, she mouthed at you.

She was bargaining.

You weren’t sure which stage weighed heavier on you, this or the anger from earlier. She dropped the bat and splayed both of her hands against the glass.

Her eyes were so wide, so scared, that you had to fight the urge to run back to her and unlock the door. She was all you had. Your sister, your best friend. You only had each other.

But you knew that more than anything you could give her, she needed help. And you needed help. If you went on living like this for any longer, you were sure you would only lose your mind more and more. That was if you hadn’t already lost it.

You took a deep breath and looked her squarely in the eyes, then you shook your head no.

Her face broke down into a silent sob as she slapped her hands at the unmoving glass. Crying for the freedom she knew she had just lost. Grieving for it.

Then you were reminded that the stages of grief weren’t always linear. Because just as quickly, she was back to anger, and your hand went up over your mouth as you watched her bang her head against the glass.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Maybe she was hoping you would let her out before she hurt herself too much. And then it dawned on you that this wasn’t anger. This was really just her final bargain.

You couldn’t do anything but sob quietly to yourself as you watched your sister. Before long, she grew sloppier and swayed against the glass until she finally gave out and collapsed.

Turning away, you walked back to where you had left Johnny, and followed the trail you had spotted earlier in the sand. Where it looked like someone had been dragged away.

Surely enough, Jaehyun was at the end of that trail, propped up under one of the thicker trees. His face was pale and peaceful, his back leaning against the tree as though he were sleeping. Your movements stuttered as you approached him.

Getting a grip on either side of his face, you pulled him forward. One look at the back of his head was enough to tell you that it was too late for him. You cried for the lives ruined and lost because of one reckless decision.

The more your adrenaline tapered off, the more your muscles reminded you of how sore you were, and the more the hammering of your headache increased. What now?

Call the police? None of you had your phones.

Drive back to the rest stop and do it from there? Your sister had the keys to Jaehyun’s car. The thought of unlocking the car and attempting to get the keys from her unconscious body spiked a horrible fear in you that you couldn’t possibly face right now.

Getting on your knees next to Johnny, you lied down on the sand and watched him as he slept.

You wondered if his neck would bruise, and whether he would be as sore as you were when he woke up.

You wondered how many hours were left until the sedative from the flask weakened in his system.

You wondered what he would do when he finally woke up.

You wondered about what kind of person he was, and whether he would still help you after he found out how much trouble you were really in.

When you noticed the first signs of his understanding, you were nothing short of terrified. The past year felt incredibly lonely. But the thought of someone finding out about the burden you carried was frightening.

You had never taken a life, but you were there when your sister did—and you were too damaged to say anything about it. All you had in you to do was shut yourself away from the world and live the life of someone who had died a year ago.

And as you wondered many things, your eyelids grew heavy. From here, it almost looked like Johnny was floating on the surface of the crimson sea. So you watched him and watched him until you couldn’t anymore.

copyright 2022 - 2025 © pearl-neo all rights reserved.

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

[kaepop-trash]

would u indulge us with a lil teaser from an update ur working on? 👀🤲

So I wasn't sure if I should post this because idk if I'll finish it, it's mostly just a worldbuilding experiment. I was writing this to work on this world so it's just a bunch of scenes with no continuity. That being said, this is the thing I have written the most in the past few months so this will have to do.

_

Summary: "This better be good." (Y/N) sighed into her coffee cup, less from sleep and more because of how awful the station's coffee machine was. "You've called me in exactly 8 hours into the one day I took off in two months."

"Two officers on night duty picked up a suspect near the meatpacking factory. I thought you would like to interview the potential suspect. Since this is your case." Kun shrugged, his holster rattling at the movement.

Warnings: Excessive exposition, no payoff

Word Count: 1666

_

When her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, there was a small shake in them. Her knuckles tightened in an effort to hide it, flexing just to be sure.

She spoke the moment the interrogation room door pushed open, “Your lawyer wanted me to ask you if you still don’t want him in here.” Talking to the floor, she turned to shut the thing behind her. A good enough start, she told herself.

“I apologise for his persistence. I asked him to leave but he is wary of his job.”

“It would be unfortunate to lose a client like you, I assume.” Kun spoke with his signature interrogation voice, impassive but with an edge of sympathy. The man laughed as she turned to face the room. Despite preparing herself this entire detour to meet his gaze head on, she lost her nerve and looked to Kun for some reassurance. He caught on, turning and giving her a pursed smile.

“Mr. Suh was just telling me about why he was in the area this late in the night.” Kun pointed at his pad, letting her know that he’d been taking his statement.

“I am looking to buy two of the five abandoned factories in the district. I was just scouting the area to assess my options.” He spoke slowly, his gaze dragging away from Kun in a leisurely stride before landing on her.

“At two in the morning?” She asked, the solid question giving her the confidence to finally meet his gaze.

“I’m a busy man.” He answered with laidback ease. Like he was having a dinner table conversation instead of being suspected for murder.

“And what do busy men like you do that require you loitering on private property at questionable hours?” She asked the question in her mind.

In response, his lips lifted in an amused smirk.

“She’s new here.” Kun spoke with an awkward weight on his tongue. The man seemed amused by the information, giving her a questioning look as Kun turned, “Johnny Suh is the sole owner of the Miti Conglomerates, the largest transportation service this far out on the edge of the known universe.”

“Well, on Xohorat I am mostly the owner of the only hotel on the planet. I am sure you had to stay there since you are new here.” He asked her, visible humour illuminating his eyes.

She did have to stay in that hotel, almost a year ago— when she was actually new to the planet. The most luxurious stay at the end of the universe. That is what the fliers over town and her transfer officer had informed her. In reality the room she could afford was the equivalent of an airport hotel way out on the opposite side of the universe. Her home. Not bad but more practical than luxury. It also hosted an interesting bar. All of this, of course, Johnny Suh already knew.

"Where were you on the twenty-fifth evening?" She asked him, fixing a discerning eye squarely on him.

"In my office. Working. I can provide the surveillance footage by tomorrow if that will help your investigation."

Overeager. She deduced, still keeping her eyes on his every movement. Despite the words, his body language was completely disarmed. There was no nervous shifting, no restless tapping, not even a frown.

"Did you ever have an association with a Mr. Pilem?" She pretended to look for the name in the file.

"I've never heard that name in my life." He answered after a pause to consider it. Perfectly orchestrated or the truth, she deduced. Those were the only two options she had.

"He was fairly well off. I'm sure on a planet as small as Xohorat, your circles might have overlapped?"

"Your partner told me he is a legislative clown,” He dragged his gaze from him to her, fixing her in place, “I don't mix with reformists."

"We are all reformists in this universe, Mr Suh." Kun chimed in, sounding rather serious.

"So you're a factionist?" She moved on, "Any animosity towards the government? Is that why you live this far out?"

"You live here too. What are your allegiances?" He pointed a finger at her. Despite the jest in his tone, he seemed to want an answer, "I am a man of business. Xohorat is a cheap hub for storing ships. The people of this colony are born engineers. My ships are the best in the galaxy at the fraction of the cost of the ones stored on moons closer to the reformer capital.” He sat back.

"The centre of the universe." Kun corrected him. That is what the capital was, after all. (Y/N) really had to curb the urge to tell Kun to drop it.

The words made the man look at Kun, his scoff that of pity, "The universe is the largest thing to exist. It's ceaseless pride that makes us think that we've discovered the centre of it."

Kun, she noted, looked momentarily taken aback. In his entire life, no one had said those words out loud to him. So obvious when spoken but never questioned. The outer planets were quite religious, she'd been surprised to learn. This far away from the influence of the capital, the laws were bleak. Her being here alone was a laughable matter, as she had learned pretty early into the job. Cops here only patrolled in cars and caught petty thieves. Detectives were simply government sanctioned employees chosen by the federal state. It was an illusion of order to keep up the illusion of empire this far.

Yet the reformist religion was stronger here than it was amongst the capital elite. Growing up, it had looked to her like people merely followed the tenets of the religion as a social obligation. For reformers, Wednesday evenings were for breaking fast with the community, a religious practice that made the community come together in the middle of the week to remember the gift of prophecy. The one that led the first explorers to the very centre of the universe. In the capital, the centre of the prophecies, Wednesday was a weekly dinner party to negotiate the happenings of government.

But here in the fringes of the capital's grasp, the religion was followed in the strictest ways. Here they still worshipped the original sun. The source of all energy that allowed the universe to be what it is today— inhabited by human beings. It was as if the world here had not moved past the exploration age, stuck in the beliefs that stopped the space farers from going insane on their long, tireless journeys to reach here.

If Kun had anything to say, he must have swallowed it. Instead, getting out of his chair.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Suh?" He asked him, getting a nod in response. When Kun looked at her, she shook her head.

"Some water." She told him.

She followed Kun's retreating frame, so aware of the other pair of eyes on her that, for a moment, she felt like the one under scrutiny. The halogen bulb above them buzzed obnoxiously, filling the room with a sound that resembled the one in her head.

"An odd place for a factionist." She said out loud, aware by now that Kun had taken his place behind the glass in the small room right down this one. Watching as she did her thing.

"Where are you from, Detective (Y/L/N)?" He questioned, splaying his hand across the table and landing close to hers.

"Way out in the western reaches." She thought of the place she was born, balmy all year round.

The man, Johnny Suh, hummed, "Nice place?" He inquired.

"It can be. Why are you trying to buy abandoned factories on the bad side of town?"

"It is no more a bad side than this is the good. These are just some people looking for jobs."

She stared at the man, perhaps trying to reconstruct him from memory.

"And what about this murder that took place in the area?" She asked point blank.

"It didn't happen on any of my properties. Present or future. I simply assume it comes with the territory. It can be rough to live in that much poverty."

All his answers were deliberately diverted. Her brain itched in unreachable corners. Everything seemed okay but something seemed not. Something did not feel right.

"These murders were all people who did not belong to that side of town. People who would not usually be there." She explained.

"Rich people?" He sounded amused.

"Reformists. The important kind." She frowned, "In the past few months, enough have turned out dead in those parts that it would be concerning to anybody. Even those with a knack for philanthropy."

Johnny's lips twitched, and she had to sit up straight. Despite having seen the man naked, she remembered with a current of warmth sliding down her spine, she only now realised that she'd never seen him smile.

"I'm afraid I was just minding my own business. You can send someone to take a look at the tapes, I can't hand them to you as it's against company policy. Beyond that I can let you know if I hear something. I hope that's all?"

She stared at him, the strings at the back of her mind tugging but being unable to find any visible suspicion to act on.

"It must feel nice, though." She caved and asked the question raking her mind, "As a factionist, watching them all found dead. The chief planet advisor, the official notary's son, the Sol Pastor. All essential members of reformist society. All important contributors to the southern edge system."

"My condolences to them and their family." He didn't sound apologetic, “But I am not a facionist, merely someone who thinks.” She wanted to scoff at the jab, knowing Kun heard him loud and clear. Out of everything he said today though, this one she was sure was a lie.

[dpr-stay]

No Longer | J.S

Johnny Suh x Singer! Reader

Warnings: I think swearing, hurt/comfort ( i didn't want to write comfort but couldn't resist), nct flopping in this universe.

WC: ~3.3k

Hi, bit of a small one but my holidays end tomorrow so I thought i'd get something out before then. Also me writing a serious fic? That's not about silly little guys in cars? What???? Also i'm sorry how disjointed the paragraphs are, this ones been baking for a loooong time and I didn't edit it L O L.

The shirt felt too tight around his chest and squeezing his arms into the suit jacket that followed it was a task of nightmares. And it made sense it didn’t fit, given that he had borrowed it from Taeil. Borrowed or begged for, what’s the difference?

Johnny anxiously adjusted his cuffs, pulling the black sleeves down to cover the flat-ironed cuffs of the white shirt underneath. He couldn’t complain that the suit was too short though. Taeil was kind enough to lend it to him at a very short-term notice. He just hoped no one there would comment on the ill fit.

If Taeil had noticed Johnny’s nerves as he busted into his room and frantically asked if he could borrow a suit, he didn’t mention it, which Johnny was very thankful for. He didn’t know how he would explain anything to anyone he knew if they asked about this.

He frantically checked his watch as the hands ticked closer and closer to 10pm. He strongly exhaled and leaned his head back against the hard seats of the taxi. He shut his eyes before opening them and accidentally making eye contact with the driver who was eyeing him through the mirror.

The driver quickly averted his eyes and Johnny released a small breath of air that could be heard as a chuckle. Johnny supposed he did look ridiculous. Barely put together, hair hanging wildly around his face, small suit paired with all-black trainers that he could’ve sworn were dress shoes when he grabbed them as he was rushing out the door.

Glancing out the window, all that greeted him was more traffic. He sighed and, as if summoned, drops of rain started hitting the glass panes. He once again adjusted his view forward and was met with the sight of the back of another car, altered by the many streaks of water running down the windshield.

The traffic then finally started moving and, as the taxi turned a corner, a brightly lit theatre came into view. Individual lightbulbs giving off more yellow than white light lined a board that hung over the entrance and ticket booth. The individual letters slotted into the board read, in all caps, “WORLD-FAMOUS SINGER SWEET-HEART PERFORMS 10PM SATURDAY”.

Johnny felt his breath catch in his throat as the taxi eventually slowed to a halt just outside the entrance. He quickly paid the driver and opened the door. The rain pelted him on the head as he gazed up at the signage.

“Sir? Are you here for the show?” Johnny’s head snapped to the ticket booth. He quickly walked over and searched for his ticket in his pockets. He grabbed it and presented it to the teenager working the stand.

“You’re lucky to get a ticket, I heard they sold out within 2 minutes.” The cashier chuckled as they scanned his ticket. Johnny contemplated this as he remembered the envelope Mark had slipped him earlier today, saying that he needed to see this.

He hadn’t understood his insistence until google had aided him in his search of ‘who is Sweet-Heart?’. How Mark had heard of you but he didn’t, he’ll never know. Johnny also made a mental reminder to pay back Mark with dinner or something, depending on how the night turned out.

“Well you’re all set. Enjoy the show!” The teen handed back the ticket and gestured Johnny inside the venue.

The inside was completely different from what Johnny expected. He knew it was a black suit event but the extravagant high ceilings with draped red and gold curtains and the eggshell white walls, covered in carving after carving, really put it into perspective.

The room was practically deserted apart from the clerk sitting lazily at the end behind a lecturn who straightened up after he saw him, obviously thinking everyone had entered the large oak doors behind him. Johnny followed the red carpet along the hardwood floors finally making it to the clerk, who awkwardly turned around and opened the doors.

Johnny, who was standing directly in between the two doors, was not expecting them to open onto a large hall, completely dark except from huge fog-lights shining on a stage. A stage from which a heavenly voice floated to Johnny’s ears, a voice so nice he doubted any recording could convey its melodies. 

And Johnny would definitely have to take Mark out to dinner at some point because up on stage was his Sweetheart, though he doubts she would remember the name being used by him due to years of no use. 

You had been friends while kids, both living within walking distance of each other and attending the small school. You had spent your early years being together constantly and being teased about being together constantly. Johnny could’ve bet that around highschool your years-deep friendship could’ve ended up going down a different path if you didn’t pack up in the middle of the night and move away without telling anyone and then never answering anyones texts or calls.

That had been a very difficult time for the young man, knowing that someone so close to him, someone he thought about everyday though it had been years since he’d last seen you, could just abandon him without a second thought, so when Mark had offered him tickets to your show, he couldn’t refuse regardless of the harm it was sure to cause him.

And, standing alone in the corridor between seated guests, Johnny could only take in the scale of what you had achieved without him. Thousands of people were seated here to watch you perform. You, an english speaker, in a room full of older Korean people, who were listening just because of how ethereal your voice sounded, even to the untrained ear. Even his google search had unprepared him for the magnitude of your popularity, though the sold out theater definitely began to put it into perspective.

The backlight of the foyer was enough to draw your attention to him, your voice never faltering even though your attention did. And through the large auditorium he could see a flash of recognition adorn your face, the missed note that caught in your breath as your eyes focused onto his silhouette.

The crowd surrounding Johnny grumbled at the pause in your serenade and you snapped your eyes from his face to stare another place in the room, desperately trying to avoid a repeat event as your eyes roved wild around the room. 

Johnny felt his breath catch and his heart begin beating rapidly. You recognised him. Somehow from this huge crowd, you were able to see him and remember him. You were able to remember one of the only people who knew you before this and, at one point, had probably known you better than you knew yourself.

Murmurs in the crowd prompted Johnny to thank the door man and lumber down to his seat in one of the rows. After a few “excuse-me”’s, Johnny reached his seat, which seemed to be the only empty one of the house, and began to watch the rest of your performance. 

The voice of an angel was truly an understatement, there was no way to convey the serenity of your vocals. No singer Johnny had ever listened to, no Cher, no Ariana, no Whitney, could even come close to matching the peace that encapsulated him when he heard your voice. Sure, maybe it was bias from a love that hadn’t been tampered with by time, but according to the sold-out theater, Johnny couldn’t be sure.

During your performance Johnny had to close his eyes to absorb the sheer impact of the fact that this whole time he could’ve been listening to your voice over his earphones or that he could have watched you grow from a small singer into the powerhouse you were today, but he wasn’t able to. And that was because you’d left. 

You’d just up and left, never to be in contact with him again. This whole time Johnny had thought that he’d never see you again. Maybe that would’ve been a good thing, considering the amount of consideration you had for his feelings. But when had looked at him, Johnny knew that you recognised him. There was no way you didn’t. You wouldn’t just stop singing if someone came late to your show, right? 

No, that’s ridiculous. As a performer, even in incredibly different venues, Johnny knew that people coming late didn’t inspire a reaction such as that. 

It was that flash of seeing someone you knew. Johnny knew it, it had happened to him when his family had first flown over and were able to see his first stage. At the time just seeing his family's faces had the power to make him choke up. 

Eventually the show came to a close after thunderous applause and people started standing up, but Johnny was rooted to his spot. He was debating between legging it out of there and trying to erase everything he’d seen and legging it out of there and keeping everything to himself. However he didn’t get a chance to choose as, when he stood up, an usher came to meet him in the aisle. A hurried explanation from the man exposed that you wanted to meet him. 

Johnny felt his heart stop, stood stupidly still as people of all ages filed through the corridor he was blocking, muttering cusses his way. But that didn’t phase him, he roomed with a bunch of teenage boys for a large part of his life. What did phase him was the knowledge that you wanted to see him.

Did you want to talk? What, did you want to finally explain what the hell happened? Why he hadn’t heard from you in years only to finally see you with a life better than anything he could’ve given you? Why, after years of him preaching to you about how hard it was to become a singer, you had done it anyway? And how you’d done leagues better than anything he’d ever accomplished?

He still regretted how many years of his life he’d spent pining over the idol dream, how many sleepless nights he’d spent wondering if he could’ve been spending his life better but convincing himself it would be worth it only for it all to blow up in face and for his group to do terribly. They were on the verge of disbanding and here you were, with your fully booked house.

He shouldn’t feel bitter though. He had no connection to you in the present, every interaction with you was in the past. That’s the attitude Johnny had in his mind as he followed the usher, ignoring the confused looks he was getting as he was led backstage. He was so focused on retaining this ‘fan, not friend’ mindset, he didn’t even realise he was in front of your dressing room door before the usher tapped him on the shoulder.

He quickly thanked the man before turning back to your door and knocking. It took a minute but slowly the door handle started turning. Johnny took a step back as the door opened his way and there you were.

You were just as beautiful, if not more, than how he remembered you. You still had that persistent curl in your hair that you had to spend hours ironing out, still held yourself in the same posture, and still wore your heart on your sleeve. At least he had thought you wore your heart on your sleeve. But if that was true, he wouldn’t have been blindsided by your leaving. 

He remained quiet as you took a shaky breath. He didn’t know why your breath was shaky, you were the one who’d deleted all your accounts after leaving, not letting him contact you.

“It really is you.” You whispered out and Johnny glanced up at you, more specifically the tears building in your eyes. He let his face remain completely passive as you launched yourself at him, feeling you grip the suit he wore with such force he may have to iron it before returning it. 

He held his arms out wide as you clung to him like a drowning person clinging to a life vest, as though he was holding you up. A wet patch formed on the suit jacket, making it through to his white shirt, making him frown. Why were you crying? You’d left him behind.

“Oh my god.” He heard you breathe into his jacket and he left one pat on your back before stepping back, making you stumble as you were forced to release him. He ignored your confused expression and the tears falling out of your eyes in favour of looking at the makeup smudged onto his suit, a ‘tch’ escaping his mouth at the sight.

“I-I’m sorry about that.” You hiccupped, a tone he didn’t recognise plaguing your voice. “I can get it-t dry cleaned.” He looked up, once again ignoring the way his heart squeezed at the tears falling down your cheeks. You shouldn’t get to be sad, it was your fault.

“No need.” He said, his voice a bit more aggressive than he intended for a child-hood friend turned ghost-lover. He cleared his throat before starting the mini-speech he had hastily made in his head as he was led by the usher.

“Listen, you did great out there,” He ignored the enchanting smile that encompassed your face because of his praise.

“You did fantastic even, but I don’t know why you asked for me to come back here.” He said, watching the way your face fell.

“W-well I thought after like ten years you’d be happy to see me…” You said and he held back a scoff, still wanting to preserve as many of your feelings even though you hadn’t done the same for him.

“I don’t know why you’d think that.” He said coldly and didn’t see the way your face crumpled as though you’d been stabbed because he’d turned around and prepared to leave. A hand grabbed his wrist and he slightly turned to look at you.

“What happened? Why are you so mad?” You asked quietly and he didn’t hold back his laugh. He turned fully and stomped into your room, you backing away, only being pushed by his presence.

“Why am I so mad?” He asked, his fists clenched and an incredulous tone rampant through his voice.

“Why am I so mad?! You left! You just left in the middle of the night! I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to say anything!” He ranted, turning and pacing up and down your changeroom. You were stunned, not being able to answer him which only seemed to fuel him.

“And then what, a decade later I finally find you again. Only to see you’re doing incredible and, good for you and all, but you’re doing incredible without me! You’re living a better life alone, with no regard for me, than anything I could’ve ever given you!” Your continued silence seemed to drain all the fight out of him.

“That’s why I’m mad. I shouldn’t have come. God, Mark just did this to fuck with me.” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his forehead before turning to you again.

“Look, I’m happy for you, but I think it would be best if-”

“I’ve thought about you everyday since I left y’know. I’d wonder how you were doing. I was there when you debuted, I don’t know if you know. I was in the crowd. I watched you look at your family and I was happy. I was happy that you were happy.” You suddenly spoke up, your words knocking the air out of Johnny’s body.

“All through our school years I’d see you with other kids and see how you were able to interact freely with them and how you were always smiling. And I saw that and I thought ‘How could I ever be that happy?’. I finally realised my happiness was with you but then I realised that that was too selfish, I needed to find a way to be happy without relying on you.” 

“So you fucking left? You think I’d care that you were happy with me?” Johnny interrupted, getting mad again. 

“I left because I thought that I would stop how happy you were, regardless of my own feelings. Everyone knows, you can’t be an idol with a partner, it just doesn’t work out. We both knew that’s where we were going. I knew that if I didn’t leave, I’d eventually end up without you anyways, and it would be easier to start making my own happiness earlier.” You said and Johnny went quiet for a second.

There was a million questions he wanted to ask. Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why didn’t you give us a chance? Why did you become a singer? But he eventually settled on:

“Did it work? Are you happy without me?” He asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer. You took a pause before a second wave of tears flooded down your cheeks. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything more.” He could barely hear you through the hiccups reverberating through your throat. 

“Everyday I’ve tried to tell myself that it was for the best, but I can never seem to convince myself. It’s torture, knowing I gave up without trying, that we could’ve been something. But I fucked it up, and it’s my responsibility.” You could barely get it out, choked sobs interrupting your monologue. Johnny could only watch as the person he’d once regarded as the love of his life broke down in front of him.

“Y-you don’t have to stick around, you can leave if you want.” You choked out after a minute but Johnny stayed still, the many questions he had fighting to spawn on the tip of his tongue. But before he could ask more you took a shuddering breath and slid down a wall to the floor, wrapping your arms around your drew up knees and hanging your head before your knees and chest.

After a moment, Johnny slid down the wall with you. Questions could wait, you crying would always be his top priority, even when he was still mad at you. He wrapped his arms around your shuddering form and whispered sweet nothings as you continued to sob. After a few minutes you stopped sobbing, quietly sniffling, and Johnny continued to sit there, you savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

“I’d understand if you never saw me again.” You said quietly and you felt Johnny nod against your head, an action that inspired more tears to leak from your eyes. It had always been too good to last.

“Unfortunately sometimes what we probably should do is not what we want to do.” He said quietly, placing a kiss against your head, leaving you to ponder the meaning behind that sentence. After a few seconds he sighed.

“I don’t think I’d ever not want to be with you.” He said and you tried to swivel your head to look at him, but you were held back by his arms.

“But I definitely need time. I have and probably always will love you, but right now, I don’t trust you.” As much as it hurt to say, Johnny knew it was the right thing to do. Johnny was only affirmed in this when you nodded your head below his chin. He turned you around to make eye contact with you, taking in your red eyes and wobbly chin. He pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve missed you.” While sweet, it still prompted you to burst into a fresh set of tears, one which Johnny teasingly rolled his eyes at.

“Crybaby.” He joked and you could only laugh, happy to be reunited with your happiness.

bah, humbug. Not checking formatting, sorry!!!

[haeigoo]

Compass (SJH)

ღ pairing: lifeguard!johnny x fem!reader (less beach stuff, i got carried away lol)

ღ description: nearing graduation, (y/n) spends the weekend at the local pool to unwind the stresses of school, when she meets Johnny Suh, who will be the change of perspective she needs before stepping into the next chapter in her life.

ღ word count: 2,015

ღ genre: ANGST, fluff

ღ warnings: YN HAS LOW SELF-ESTEEM FROM THE START (like self-blame, sorry), slight swearing, nothing sexual & i focused on the friendship more

ღ playlist: hate myself by dodie, heaven by maude latour, & karera by bini

ღ author's note: happy one year to me, for posting my first au here (coincidentally). this is personal to me & i’m very proud of putting it out there! <3

DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!

“(y/n), we just finished our exams,” Mei playfully whined as she nudged your shoulder. “Let’s go out!”

“Where? I wanna stay in the city.” You chuckled.

“The local pool!” Mei rose up from her seat. “You miss swimming.”

“I wouldn’t know anyone there, except you.” You looked up at Mei and smiled.

“That’s exactly why we’re going!” Mei brimmed with anticipation.

While packing for the weekend, you were busy ruminating. Am I 100% sure?

You’ve kept quiet about your vices because you didn’t wanna be a problem for anyone to solve. The possibility of pivoting away from years of dedication to a craft, terrified you and if anyone, god forbid, were to find out, you wouldn’t know how to live with yourself. You indulged in the consequences in great detail, making you sweat profusely as your mind catered to every thought.

Hanging on the wall was your self-portrait from when you were young. Rough squiggly lines from a set of crayons your grandmother got you for Christmas. You had large oblong-shaped eyes and a rectangular smile on the piece of paper.

Imperfect but, you continued. She didn’t have a care in the world, you wondered.

The weekend finally comes when you hear a knock on the door, followed by a sweet tone which called out for you, it was Mei. Who else knows your address? you snickered. She dragged her small luggage inside and charged at you, with a snuggly hug. It just felt right for a moment.

“You look drowsy,” Mei, to her surprise, stepped away. “Was I too early?”

Your eyes widened as you took a deep gulp. If there’s one person worth telling, it’s her, right? you thought.

“Just amped up. Shall we?” You grabbed her hand and plastered a smile. After minutes without a bench in sight, you both arrive at the gate. Awfully spacious, you purse your lips.

“You sure it’s open? Looks like a cemetery.” You let out a laugh.

“Peace and quiet?” Mei giggled.

“Mhm, I do like the sound of that,” You continued. “I’ll just look around.” You left the resting hut.

Again, you were all alone but the fresh breeze did help you soothe your nerves. Walking slowly made you notice how poignant the red and white striped pool lanes were. The heat outside striked the surface of your skin as you brush your hair back. You couldn’t put into words why the constant stream of water keeps colliding.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud inside the restroom. The sink had sachets scattered messily around and a stack of kickboards were on the ground. Unbeknownst to you that taking one step would make you fall flat on the floor. The impact it had on your bottom was so painful, you couldn’t get up nor think clearly. You were greeted by a six-foot man looking down on the mess that is you.

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” The man hastily asks as he reaches out his hand for you.

“You think?” You said with gritted teeth. “My butt’s sore!”

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” Johnny hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. “What’s yours?”

“(y/n). But I’ve to go.” You slowly get up off the ground, with zero intent of letting him utter another word.

You were about to leave when Johnny tapped your shoulder. Something about his energy drew you in, so you indulge with what he has to say.

“A lifeguard’s not usually like this,” He continued as he scratched the back of his head. “Lemme make it up to you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You brushed past him.

Before turning behind your back, Johnny was left standing there, stunned. Curiosity grew deeper and you knew you had to bump into him again.

Practically limping from your swollen bottom, Mei saw you from a far and quickly ran towards your direction. She sits you down at the resting hut with a towel on her back.

“(y/n), who did this?” Mei hands you a cup of water, voice trembling.

“I slipped on the pavement!” You humour her after taking a few sips. Mei lifted a brow in response.

“Just a clumsy lifeguard.” You winced. “But I’m okay!” You look into her eyes intently.

“Doesn’t look like that.” Mei’s voice dropped, avoiding eye contact with you.

“What’re you getting at?” You tilt your head sideways, eyes bulged.

“Just tell me, (y/n).” Her nostrils flare up, voice low.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes. You started to mumble, at first, but you kept going. You told her how you endured studying at such a prestigious university because of her and opened up about skipping graduation altogether.

“I brushed it all off because I had you,” Your hands fidgeted. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

“So you’re saying, it’s my fault?” Mei pursed her lips. “You lied to me.” She crossed her arms.

“No, because I’d lose you if I did!” You raised your voice before covering your mouth.

“You know what,” Mei tensed up. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses.” She brushed her forehead with a puzzled look.

Mei dragged her luggage, left the hut without looking back. Shocked to your core, you knew begging was useless. Letting the person you trust the most to pull away was a guttural feeling. You cried yourself to sleep that evening.

You abruptly wake up as the sun hits the surface of your skin. You hear children laughing at the pool when you are interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Sleepyhead.” A glint of light shines from Johnny.

“I don’t recall nicknames.” You retort back, getting up as you rub your eyelids.

“What’s mine, then?” He exchanged.

“Stalker.” A chuckle broke out between the space the two of you shared.

“What’re you doing, aside from spying on me?” You questioned.

“If you must know, I work here,” Johnny said. “Pool’s full today and I need an extra pair of hands. Job’s yours if you want!” He offered.

“I don’t have experience,” Before you could finish, Johnny eyed you up. It was different from the day you first met him. He wasn’t clumsy, but incredulous and had you high on a new feeling.

“Relax, I got you.” Johnny reassured you as he placed both his hands on your shoulders.

Your cheeks turned a shade of red and you knew, he had noticed as before he shook his head. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

Your job began by preparing kickboards near the pool. Johnny left you to man the desk for a few minutes, you didn’t expect today to be packed. You took notice of a collision of waves splashing against each other. Opposites, you tell yourself. A different life you could’ve been living if you were honest with yourself versus the one you have today. You’ve dug yourself a grave deeper than your fingers deep into the kickboard you were holding, tightening the grip when it suddenly snaps. And it was your fault. A bunch of kids with dagger eyes, gossiping about you. Tears start to form and blur your vision from what’s ahead when Johnny catches up behind you.

“Let’s go.” Johnny breathed.

“I’m fine.” You said, reluctant to take his help. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Technically, you do too.” Johnny laughed. “C’mon, who doesn’t take breaks?” He pulls you up to take you inside.

As you walked through the door, silence welcomed you, but in a good way. Johnny gestured to you to sit at his chair before offering you a cup of water. As you take a sip, you let out a scoff, visibly coughing as your emotions start to burst. Feelings of overwhelm lapped you like ocean waves when you lay everything down.

“I stayed in a program because it’d be too disappointing to throw away years of sweat and tears down the drain,” Your voice low, head in hands. “Now, I lost my best friend.”

You glanced up to see Johnny quiet and for once, you actually felt safe. As you were about to continue, he stood up from leaning against the desk.

“I dropped out years ago.” Johnny said, jerked his head to the side.

Your assumptions of him were disproved, all at once. Nonetheless, your mind grew curious and wanted answers to why.

Johnny opened up about dropping out to pursue a myriad of jobs, eventually landing himself more experiences than anyone you could think of. It wasn’t easy, of course. People in his life developed grudges because there wasn’t any certainty in his path.

“Must’ve been hard,” Your eyes narrowed.

“But, I got me.” Johnny shrugged. “(y/n), you have so much time on your hands. Just gotta learn how to use it.”

“What should I do?” You asked with an empty look.

“You know what you have to do, (y/n).” Johnny grinned.

It was sundown and with residents leaving, it was just the two of you again. You’ve overstayed your welcome and couldn’t bear facing another day without Mei. You thought it was ludicrous to write to a stranger.

Thanks for everything, Johnny.

Don’t be a stranger, I’ll be at 29 St. C.U.P. id Auditorium @ 5PM tomorrow.

The morning of your graduation comes and needless to say, you should’ve been at the venue, but there you were, standing outside of Mei’s door. With a simple knock, you hear the twist of the knob turn, taking a deep gulp before opening your eyes was all that seemed certain.

“Spare me five minutes?” You asked.

Mei nods her head, still arms crossed and not uttering a word.

“I’m sorry,” You continued. “Just the program itself, but I was never lying to you about who I was.”

If it weren’t for the weekend, you would’ve never gained the strength to apologize to her. But you had arrived here, feeling a lot more secure of yourself.

“C’mere.” Mei pulls you into a tight embrace, arms wrapped around every inch of you as tears cascade down. “You’re gonna figure this out.” She said reassuringly.

After some time, you went home to prepare and as you were getting dressed, your mind wandered off to that weekend. You’d hope he’d show but brushed it off immediately. He’s probably busy, you say to yourself.

The auditorium was a street away and as soon as you stepped inside, it was a different atmosphere. A widely packed audience filled with people’s emotions gushing uncontrollably. Fellow batchmates called for your attention. This isn’t so bad, you thought.

You found your seat by the end of the row as the event began. The crowd grew loud with the heartfelt speeches that the professors and students gave. The time came to line up before the stage and you were growing uneasy.

“Next, (y/n) (l/n)!” The speaker exclaimed.

Your lips start to curl downward, eyeing the diploma. The dean shook your hand and pulled the other to slip the paper in. Unreal. The photographer was gesturing in front of you when your eyes veered from across the crowd, Mei smiling with her thumbs up close to her face.

And with a flash, you’re a fresh graduate. Still feels like pretend except you have the gown and diploma to prove it.

The ceremony ended with tearful goodbyes as trenchers were thrown up into the sky. You rose from your seat when a bouquet of flowers found its way into your arms.

“Excuse me,” Johnny continued. “I think you dropped this!” All dressed in his most comfortable sweater and slacks, accentuating his physique.

No longer fighting away tears, you accept what’s in front of you. “I’m glad you came.” You sniffled.

“No tardies.” Johnny snickered. “But, I’m really proud of you.” He leaned closer, meeting your gaze.

Johnny placed both his hands on your waist and you were expecting a hug, when he picked you up and spun you around. Giggles escape between the two of you.

You weren’t known for taking risks, but you probably wouldn’t be here without it. You start the next chapter of your life with a fresh take in mind.

[beautifullydisconnected]

New Years Day

Pairing: Johnny Suh X Reader

Trigger Warning: None, pure fluff and softness

Song to Listen to: New Years Day by Taylor Swift

5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!!!

Confetti is flying, champagne is popping, fireworks are crackling. People are kissing and embracing. Others are on the phone with family. New years marks the beginning of fresh starts and new beginnings but who you start it with is the most important.

The person you start the new year with is the person you want to spend New Year’s Day with. The one you want to clean up bottles with the next day. The one you have Polaroids with strewn across your apartment floor. Johnny was that person.

When you met Johnny you never expected it to be anything more than a casual fling, but here you were ten months later certifiably in love. You met on a whim and decided to go on a few dates here and there but agreed to keep things casual. However, before you knew it you were meeting up two or three times a week. Within three months you were regularly spending the night at his place and even had a spare key. By month seven you were moved in together and you never expected it to go as smoothly as it did. Sure there were moments where you didn’t agree on things, or where you fought but you always made up, whether it was in the moment or a few hours later, but you did agree to never go to bed angry.

Here you were at ten months and he was your person you wanted to spend New Year’s Day with. The one you were spending your late night or rather early morning cleaning your apartment with. He was the one you were dancing around your living room with drinking left over warm champagne and wearing cheesy new years accessories. The random kisses as you’re picking up streamers and sweeping up confetti from the floor. He’s the one you have countless Polaroids with hanging up on your fridge. He’s the one you want to spend all your New Year’s Days with and spoiler when you skip to the last page he’s the one you spend all your days with.

[sehunniepotwrites]

SHELVED AWAY | JH.S

SYNOPSIS. You and Johnny have been academic rivals since the day you first met. Top Two on the Dean’s List for your university’s English Department, it was hard to tell who claimed the number one spot on the list. You always butted heads, whether it was over who led the discussion in a course lecture, who got a higher grade on a paper, or who helped more customers at the bookshop you both worked at. When a bet to see who could sign up more customers for their shop’s loyalty program came to life, the both of you would stop at nothing to win this little game even if it meant getting closer to the other.

PAIRING. coworker!Johnny Suh x (f) reader GENRE. college!au, bookshop!au, enemies-to-lovers!au, academic rivals!au, suggestive, humor, fluff (?) WORD COUNT. 4.6k+ WARNINGS. characters are like cat-and-dog, make-out scene, profanity, name-calling (lmao), they bicker a lot

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work.

There were many things you loved about your university. 

You loved how the campus was swarmed with trees, each building surrounded by a lush and vibrant green in the spring and summer months and warm brown shades during the cold of autumn and winter. You loved the sense of community your school upheld, always hosting events that were opened to anyone and everyone in the immediate area. The way it made you feel at home when you were miles away. The friends you made in your major and the small department you belonged to. 

You adored it all. 

The one thing you hated about your university though wasn’t a thing at all. It was a person who went by the name of John Jun Suh. People in the English department, whether it be faculty, staff, or fellow students called him by Johnny but you wouldn’t succumb to calling him by his preferred name. It made you seem closer to him than you really were and you despised that even being a possibility. You weren’t close. You were far from that. 

Johnny Suh was your rival in every sense of the word. The top two students in the entire department—he concentrated in Literal and Cultural Studies while you dabbled in Creative Writing—you never saw eye to eye. 

Even in a shared lecture hall, you and Johnny were miles apart, distance fueled by your competitive spirits and mutual distaste for the other. 

Miles apart and still butting heads as academic rivals were destined to do. The discussions in the courses you shared were led by your volleying, voices only increasing in volume as you challenged each other’s thoughts and cruxes. Fighting for the attention of the professors. Competing for the highest grade on the latest paper or the spot of tutor in the Writing Lab. 

And just how you had a certain way of doing things, Johnny did the same, using a completely different method. 

In other words, the two of you were complete opposites. 

While you preferred the lighter side of fiction, he longed for the darker bookish themes. The same went for your style of dress—your academia-themed wardrobe was filled with whites, off-whites, and the lighter colors of the spectrum whereas Johnny’s clothes consisted of darker statement pieces including black turtlenecks and dark brown slacks with matching coats. Dark shades and fits that only accentuated his devastatingly handsome figure. 

When you felt comfortable studying during the light of day, you always caught Johnny entering the library in the dark of night as you left for home. 

He was a bookish social butterfly, his wings fluttering about here and there around the English department building and in any club that sparked his interest, while you stayed in your tightly-knitted group of friends. 

Your friends never understood why you hated him. Yes, you were rivals when it came to grades and other educated-related things, but they truly believed you would get along if you really got to know him.

You hated him because it seemed as if he was blessed with everything in life—intelligence, a light and friendly attitude despite his dark attire, physical features that rivaled ones belonging to the gods. Thick hair that looked good in any color. Eyes that shined behind the glare of his rounded specks. Proportions that made both men and women alike swoon. A voice filled with a variety of colors. Johnny was almost perfect without even trying and you despised him for it. 

They were wrong about you and him. So completely wrong.

You knew it. You were almost certain Johnny knew it too.

There was no way you could get along with John Jun Suh. Never in your wildest dreams.

You thought you would find solace working in the town center’s bookshop. Clearly, as Johnny stood before you, with his brand new name-tag pinned against the expanse of his chest, you thought wrong.

To make matters worse, you were the one assigned to train him, to show him the ropes. According to your boss, there was no one better to show the giant how everything works around the store. Your boss wasn’t wrong, you just hated the fact that you had to share one more thing with Johnny Suh. 

With and without your help, Johnny picked up quickly and worked his way up to one of the shop’s top sellers list. Once again, you two were tied for a title. Your boss, sensing your drive to compete, fueled the fire even more in the form of commissions. 

As one of the only bookstores in your college town, your place of employment was quite a popular place. People of all ages flocked to your store to find the book they were seeking and it was time to take advantage of it. In order to engage with customers, your boss launched a loyalty program in which people could earn points that led to discounts. An employee of the shop would earn a commission every time someone signed up for the program under their recommendation. The staff member who received the most commissions within three months after launch would get an extra bonus. It was a fantastic plan, one that was well-received by the staff and the public, especially by you and Johnny.

The two of you found it as another way to compete, especially when you were the highest performers in house. A bet resulted from this “friendly” competition, the loser having to do whatever the winner wanted of them. You remembered the day the bet was established, the rage festering inside you egging Johnny on.

“I’m going to get that bonus, Suh, just you wait,” you said, pushing yourself off the shelf you leaned on. “Just you fucking wait.”

Johnny’s face whipped straight to you with a smirk permanently etched on his full lips. With raised brows, he answered, “Oh, I think you’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart, because that money is mine.”

He tried to distract you with silly nicknames and it didn’t work. “Stubborn as ever, aren’t you?”

“I’d say the same about you,” Johnny lowered his lids, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. He crossed his arms against his chest, muscles straining against his tight shirt’s form hugging fabric. You willed yourself to look away from the bulging muscles that caught everyone else’s attention.  “I’d suggest a bet but everyone knows I’ll win.”

“Oh, please. You’re too confident in yourself!”

“And you’re not?”

“I’ve been here longer and I have more customer service experience than you, John, so I clearly have the upper hand,” you argued as your feet led you to him. 

“And yet all the customers come to me when we’re servicing the same area, I wonder why that is,” Johnny shrugged, “Must be your resting bitch face scaring them away.”

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be an insult? You need to try a little harder to actually hurt my feelings.”

“Believe me,” Johnny paused to say your name and you tightened your fists to fight the shiver his words caused, “I’m only just getting started.”

“Okay, if it’s a bet you want, fine. I’m in. Loser gets to grant the winner’s wish, no matter what it is.” You stuck your hand out and it lingered in the air for a second too long. 

When you tried to pull it away, Johnny’s hand reached out to join them together. You ignored the electricity that shocked your brain. The feeling of warmth his touch gave you. 

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Good!”

“Good.”

Neither you or Johnny announced what you wanted as punishments, saving the surprise for when the three months concluded. Despite that, you were not one who took losing well. So, you did whatever means necessary to win. Johnny did the very same.

Your coworkers gave up on winning that bonus because no one was as passionate as you both were, parading around the grounds while sabotaging each other. Johnny hid your online orders and you stole his customers. You had yelling matches in the stock rooms, ones others could hear if they passed by the back doors. They never stopped you–they knew better than that–instead, they just let it all unfold, wondering where your arguments would lead you next.

“Stop taking customers away from me!” you screeched at him one day when the shop was devoid of people. It was a slow day so far with no one else but Johnny and a few more coworkers to keep you company.  

You passed the point of annoyance and almost grabbed the closest hardcover within your reach. A good hit on the back of Johnny’s head would do your coworker some good. Johnny deserved it, especially when that specific guest signed up for the program right in front of you. You caught Johnny double checking the person’s entered information on his computer screen, reading everything back to him to check for accuracy. 

You couldn’t believe he ripped another one away from your fingertips. According to the data up till then, tallied on a whiteboard in the break room, Johnny was five commissions ahead of you. You were in the lead last week but he intercepted so many of your customers in the past two days, Johnny saw catching up as child’s play. That last customer made it six. 

Johnny simply rested his sharp chin, “You were taking too long so he came to me. Seemed like he was in a rush.”

“I was trying to find him the perfect copy,” you spat back. “A lot of the covers were damaged during shipping.”

“And some people don’t care about that stuff.” 

“Are you saying you don’t?” you asked.

“No, I do. But others, like that guy who just left, don’t.” 

“Whatever, fucker,” you turned away from him, logging back into your computer that kicked you off during your time away. 

“Such eloquent words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours,” Johnny laughed, satisfied with the irritation in your voice. Your mind fixated on the compliment and you did your absolute best to ignore minuscule, barely-there thump in your chest. “Wonder what other insults you can come up with. Maybe you’ll dive into some Shakespearean ones, those are always fun.” 

“Watch your back and your customers, Suh,” you threatened, fingertips pressing harshly against the keys. 

He heard the anger with every little click. “Sure, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Just for that,” Johnny smirked, “I don’t think I will.”

“Thief.”

“Slowpoke.”

But as the months passed, there were times when Johnny would get a little too close to you and his presence didn’t bother you as much as before. 

His voice wasn’t as irritating from near or far. Your eyes stopped twitching when Johnny would change his commission count on the communal white board. 

Sometimes, you would feel his large, warm hand on your back as he tried to get to his register. Other times, you felt his breath hitting your cheek while he leaned down to look at your computer. When you argued, you were suddenly hyper aware of how his body was less than an inch away from yours. How he, at times, would stare at your frowning lips for a beat too long. Or how his biting words turned a little kinder when you were having an off day. 

Those things shouldn’t have affected you in the way that they did, making your heart rumble in your chest like an earthquake shaking your entire world. But as much as you wanted to deny it,  Johnny tugged on your heart strings. Unknowingly, his actions made you revisit the chapter of your story that focused on love. Little by little, they added words to pages left untouched for many years, bringing the paper to life. And you weren’t sure of where this plot point was taking you next.

“I didn’t know you liked this genre,” you approached him one day as Johnny sat in the break room. His nose was stuck inside one of your favorite novels, one that you recommended to anyone who asked for a romance suggestion. The book itself came out two weeks ago and it sold out within hours. 

You, being an avid reader and book reviewer, received access to an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. And an honest review you gave that had everyone who followed you buzzing until the release date. 

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Johnny smiled softly at you, his long fingers coming up to slip a bookmark in between the pages he left off on. He slid past you, gently placing the novel back into the small crevice of his work locker. “It’s really good so far, I see why you’ve been raving about it. I’d keep reading but my break’s up,” he said to you, his hand grazing at the small of your back to move you out of his way, “but I’ll talk to you more about it later, yeah? I marked some quotes I liked.” 

Your gaze followed him out, not knowing why that touch and his words made you freeze in place. It made him seem like a romantic, something that you really wouldn’t have guessed. 

There were a lot of things you knew about Johnny Suh. You knew how he irritated you to death and how he always came in early for his shifts. He hated being late. He was always on time. 

You knew how he preferred darker neutrals than your lighter colors when it came to wardrobe palettes. How he belonged to a different English concentration but still took creative writing courses to expand his verse. 

But there were a lot of things you don’t know about him, too. You didn’t know how he took his coffee in the morning or who his favorite author was. His favorite genre of book or his preferred type of music when he studies so diligently on his breaks. You didn’t know how he liked to spend his time away from school and work. Whether he preferred plain sticky notes or the Disney Princess ones he was currently placing on the pages of your favorite book.

You didn’t know if he was dating anybody or remotely interested in anyone at the moment. Not that you actually cared.

There were a whole lot of things you didn’t know about Johnny but just looking at him with your beloved novel in hand, marking the pages with his own inklings, you felt your heart wanting to learn more about the coworker you came to hate. Yearning to occupy the spot in front of him and exchange his current thoughts on the book. Longing to hear how his mind interpreted fact and fiction.

You didn’t know much about John Jun Suh but the book of your heart had already opened its pages up, ready for him to fill you up with words and maybe, his love.

It was the second to last week of the bet and you were working the busiest shift of your life. 

There was a signing with a popular author earlier in the day, flooding the store more than usual. It ended around an hour ago but the weening crowd from the event lingered in between the aisles. Some of your coworkers already clocked out for the day, only assigned the hours of the signing. But you, of course, were not able to leave as you were that day’s shift lead. So you carried on, starting your rotation as the customer service stand in the middle of the store. 

You smiled at a customer who approached you, grabbing their sheet of confirmation paper for a book on hold. Gesturing to the back room with the paper in hand, you said politely, “Wait right here. I’ll be right back with your book.”

The customer nodded at you in reply and with that, you were off. Johnny, who was manning the other customer service computer next to you, followed suit. Rolling your eyes, you attempted to walk faster but with daddy long legs behind you, it didn’t take long for him to catch up to your pace. Pretending the tall boy with the stupid round glasses and the stuck-up dark academia fit wasn’t there, your focus remained on the paper in your grip. Studying the printed font, you maneuvered through various bookshelves without looking up until you reached a door that read “Employees Only.” 

Swiping your employee card to grant you access, you hurried in to keep Johnny out. Kicking the door closed you didn’t work–Johnny’s long foot caught it before it shut and you cursed. You wished it slammed against him, inflicting some sort of pain—much like the pain he caused you. 

Sighing, a realization hit you. He was never going to leave you alone no matter how hard you tried. But did that truly upset you or did it leave your body buzzing with nerves? 

“You’re ignoring me,” Johnny deadpanned as your hands ghosted against the spines of many books lining the shelves. His heavy footsteps echoed in the room; it was louder than your nervous breaths. Being alone with him did make you nervous, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You would never admit to the butterflies you felt when he was around or the way your heart pounded erratically against your breastbone. You would never admit the way the scent of his perfume drove you a bit mad—almost as mad as the famed hatter—or how irritatingly handsome he looked when he studied at the counter, full lips in a pout and rounded glasses sliding down the slope of his nose.

Or how much you liked when he did little things like holding the door open for you when you had a dolly filled with merchandise. Making sure you got a worksheet that you missed during a class discussion. How you grew sweet on him when he’d drive you home after a shared closing shift, expressing his concern for your safety. 

Johnny said he wouldn’t want any girl to wait out in the dark for an unreliable bus. He’d rather see you home so he was one hundred percent sure you made it back to your apartment in one piece. Johnny wouldn’t leave the lot until he saw your bedroom light turn on. He memorized what floor you were on the day he took you all the way to your door. It was the night some loiterers were being loud and obnoxious at the front of your building. You didn’t feel safe walking past them on your own, frightened by the drunken catcalls they threw at people passing by. So like any good person would do, Johnny draped a protective arm around your shoulder, told you to keep your pretty little head down, and led you to the elevator. 

You even caught yourself dreaming about him during the day and night, random thoughts of him streaming into your consciousness. They were like little movie reels playing in your head. Scenes of him sitting in the corners of the shop, reading and annotating the books you recommended to guests, or him sipping on that large cup of iced americano that he consumed daily.

You would never admit to any of those things, especially not to him.

“I’m not ignoring you, you’re too insignificant to ignore.”

Johnny laughed a light chuckle as if he thought your response was cute. You hated it. 

“I just don’t want anything to do with you, and also— I. Am. Working,” you hissed as you finally reached the shelf you were looking for. The customer had ordered a new contemporary romance novel—one you found yourself indulging in during your breaks before it was released—but it was nowhere to be found in your stock. 

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Johnny’s voice came from behind you. You felt the heat of his body and you clenched your hand, ultimately wrinkling the paper you held. That was fine; the customer didn’t need it after your interaction anyway. It was going straight to the trash, just like your heart was. 

Your not-so-fragile heart was going in the damn garbage because you were letting a stupid pretentious English major rile you up over the dumbest things. An ounce of hate consumed you as you came to this epiphany. You were supposed to hate him, despise him for challenging your position as the top seller in the store, and for stealing your spotlight from the English department. So why didn’t you?

“God—where is that damned book?” Your irritation seeped through your words and the way you slammed the metal shelves. 

Johnny chuckled, easily snatching the paper from your hands, earning a small huff from you. He took a glance at it before shifting his gaze to the higher shelves--the ones you needed a step stool for. Your co-worker, smug as he could be, found it easily and with confidence, he reached for it. The action pressed you against the shelf, your hands immediately finding purchase on the metal to steady yourself from the unexpected weight. His strong, hard chest was against your back and his hot breath hit your ear. “Looking for this one?”

You stiffened against him. You could not move, not when Johnny’s weight trapped you between his arms. Not when the sweet scent of his cologne was flooding your senses. Not when his low, husky voice whispered in your ear. 

“I don’t need your help,” you hissed back, fingers gripping onto the edge of the shelf. 

“You need my height.”

“There’s a step stool right there for me to use so no, John, I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly, you do, sweetheart, you couldn’t even find that book for that sweet customer that’s waiting for you out there.”

The nickname, although a bit heart-fluttering, was also somewhat degrading and it set you off. Fire seeped through your veins. With a breath, you turned so that you were chest to chest. With furrowed brows and a piercing glare, you said, “I don’t need you—“

“You sure?” Johnny leaned closer, his hazed eyes dipping down to your frowning lips for a fraction of a second. 

You caught the action and again, your heart tried pushing its way out of your body, “—or your help or your teasing here and in class. I’m tired.”

“I’m not.” Of course, he wasn’t. He never was. That’s what made him so annoying—his persistence. 

“Give me the book, John.” 

“Nah, I think I’ll hold on to it for you.”

“Hand it over.”

Lowering down to her level, he smirks and says, “Why don’t you make me?”

“Don’t think I can do it?”

“Oh, I’d really like to see you try.”

Johnny’s challenging words pulled you to do something unexpected. Instead of replying with words, you accepted his provocation by yanking him to your level and fitting your mouth against his. Your fingers curled in his long, soft hair while his free hand drifted to your waist. It wrapped around your middle, further trapping you in between his build and the cold metal shelf. 

Johnny kissed you like it was something that he wanted to do. Like it was something he was meant to do. Whenever you moved, he followed. Every little tilt of the head or breath you took was followed by him finding his way back to you. There was no escaping his lips, his scent, his whole entire being. Johnny was all around you and for once, you let yourself indulge in the moment. 

When Johnny swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, you opened yourself up to him. You allowed him to explore parts of you that had been closed off for many years. The levels of passion were on an equal scale, the tiny noises escaping you matching the level of Johnny’s eager groans. He made you forget where you were once his grip found its way to your chin, pulling you to close the space you created as you took a needed breath. The task of helping the customer was temporarily erased from memory as he pulled away just enough to whisper your name against your lips.

But it all came back to you once you felt that book–the one you fought him for–press against your middle. It was wedged in between your bodies, distracting you from the pleasure that came from kissing your rival. 

So, as Johnny went back in for another kiss, you grabbed the book out of his loosened grip and shoved him away. 

Taking a good look at him, Johnny’s face was red and his lips were all kinds of swollen. There was a dazed look in his eyes, one that was so hazy, it was the dreamiest thing you had ever laid eyes on. His hand remained at the level of your head, fingers twitching, as if they wanted to grab hold of you once more. Your name barely escaped his lips when you slowly retreated towards the exit. You created a wider space between you, with the coveted book in one hand and the other blindly reaching for the door handle.

“There. See?”

“See what?” Johnny said breathlessly.

“I tried,” you replied, staring right into his eyes. If you looked elsewhere, if your gaze wandered back down to the lips that tasted so addicting, you would have folded and ran back right to him. Shaking the book within his view, you continued on, “And when I try, I always get what I want.”

Giving him no time to talk back, you opened the door and made your great escape. 

His brown eyes remained on the door long after you left, waiting for his heart to calm itself. His fingers rubbed against his lips, mind still clouded with no one else but you. That wasn’t an odd occurrence to him, it was actually quite a normal one. Not that you had to know.

Johnny opened up to the thought of you long before that kiss occurred. 

It happened earlier in the year, when he saw you tutoring his friend Mark in the English department’s writing center. You diligently helped the struggling student, offering him constructive feedback with a high amount of patience. You stayed hours after your tutoring shift ended, making sure Mark hit every point on the grading rubric to ensure that he would get a passing grade. 

There was no need for you to go out of your way like that but you wanted to out of the goodness of your heart. And just like you assisted Mark, you continued to go above and beyond in your bookstore clerk duties to guarantee that every customer left satisfied. 

Your dedication to your work was admirable. It made you all the more charming in Johnny’s eyes, even more charming than the first time he laid eyes on you during first year orientation. 

A new book opened way back then, the love story in his heart practically writing itself. But as your treatment and obvious distaste towards him worsened over the years, he shelved that book away. Despite the harsh treatment he didn’t deserve, Johnny’s heart always held a soft spot for you; the page he left off on dog-eared for him to return to. It remained folded, the crease pressing a permanent indent into the page in case Johnny wanted to explore his feelings in depth once again.

And as you rang up the customer that you fought over, Johnny went through the library of his mind, searching for that book he filed away. And once he found it, he pried it out of the shelf and opened it back up, undoing the crease that bookmarked where he left off. 

Johnny was ready to fall in love again but more importantly, he was ready to fall in love with you. 

EMPLOYEE BULLETIN BOARD. Hey, everyone! I’m back. Long time no chat <3 First of all, happy new year! But more importantly, happy Johnny day!!! I went through my archives to find this. It was originally planned to be a longer fic but I lost inspiration for it. Maybe I can come back to it one day and fully flesh it out. But until then, this is all I’ve got (until Jaehyun’s birthday). Please tell me what you think of it. I feel like I’m a bit rusty ;;;

A big thanks to @lavendersuh for reading through this multiple times and editing/suggesting things when she saw fit. You’re the best, Em <3 @smileysuh you’re the king for also skimming through this. And @yutaholic for indulging me as I spam her with all my ideas uwu. You’re awesome!! 

TAGLIST. @johtenrecs @emmybyeakitty @ppangjae @sokkigarden @kaepop-trash @suhnnyskiess @baekhyuns-lipchain @bebsky @bat-shark-repellant @renjuunsz @ferxanda @lebrookestore​ @tyongblr

NETWORKS. @neowritingsnet​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2022

[seren1tyhaze]

i miss you more than i loved you

PAIRING: idolverse!jaehyun x johnny (ft other neos)

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: it's been years since jaehyun and johnny ended things and he's grown distant from the members and their past life together. an ig post brings everything flooding back in, love and all the pain that came with it.

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday ily <3 thank you to everyone who pre-read snippets of this as well

WARNINGS: mlm relationships, boys kissing and stuff, lots of angst, profanity, some sexual references but no explicit smut

PLAYLIST: miss you more by katy perry

We were a match, but not a fit We were a dream, unrealistic

--

“Hyung, can you come monitor for me?” a fuzzy voice broke past the music playing in Jaehyun’s headphones as he scrolled on his phone, sunk down in a plush leather chair.

Pulling aside the headphones, Jaehyun lifted his gaze up to see Jisung with a hand lightly on his shoulder. His face was calm, brows knitted together lightly as he looked down through long bangs.

Jaehyun let out a small and tired sigh, smiling lightly up at the younger man, following him into the dance studio, leaning against the glass as he watched the group follow intricate choreography to a slower track filled with a booming base.

He had finally given into his manager’s coaxing to support the preparation for the comeback of the new subunit of some of the youngest members of the company and it had pushed forward old memories he had wished to forget. He knew they were just doing it to get him out of his apartment and give him some sort of schedule to what his routine had become.

In the years since he had been active, much had changed at the company but he saw himself in the bright, young faces of the young men in front of him. He smiled as he watched one of the tallest of the group toss his arms around a slightly shorter blonde, squeezing his chest with strong arms from behind. Sleeves of their thin workout shirts rose up on their shoulders, matching ink adorning their smooth skin. Jaehyun felt his own hand push over a small outline of a cat tattooed on the side of his wrist, warmth blooming as the tips of his fingers made contact.

Memories of dancing in the same studio flooded his brain, blurring his vision with tears building in his eyes. He could practically feel the hands on shoulder blades, correcting posture, repetition of small foot movements, and almost hear the boisterous laughter echoing off the glassy, mirrored walls.

His eyes flicked downwards to his phone held tightly in his palm, seeing hotel bookings and flights coming through with little notes interspersed from Jungwoo. He reacted to the messages with a simple thumbs up, turning his attention back to the fluid movements of the dancers, whispering and gesturing to the choreographer standing next to him. He knew she could tell his mood had shifted in the last month, everyone at the company was walking on eggshells around him and it was tearing him apart every time he walked in the building. No one knew what to say or how to act around him after an Instagram post on a sunny Saturday had changed everything.

--

He hadn’t meant to see the picture and instantly regretted offering to help fix some settings on his sister’s phone while sitting on the small patio of his family home.

“Why are you following him?” Jaehyun had spat, heat rising in his cheeks as he threw the phone, suddenly on fire in his hands, onto her lounge chair.

“So I can make sure you don’t have this reaction! How am I supposed to keep you from seeing things if I don’t know that they are out there?” she yelled back, voice raising, causing his mother to peek her head out the screen door.

“What’s going on?” she called out absently, bouncing his sister’s baby on her hip.

“You two constantly baby me! I’m almost 35 years old!” Jaehyun called back, crossing his arms with a huff across his broad chest. The sun suddenly felt too hot, his face burning with anger and embarrassment.

“You sure don’t act it…” his sister replied in a murmured tone, sliding her sunglasses back on the bridge of her nose and picking up the device that had caused the argument.

“Sorry…” he replied in the same tone, smoothing his palms over his thighs and picking up his own phone.

Since he had already seen the engagement announcement, he nervously opened Instagram, moving his finger carefully to Johnny’s profile, taking the pad of his thumb off the screen as soon as he found the post so as to not accidentally interact.

The first photo was the small and manicured hand of Johnny’s now-fiancee, a glimmering diamond ring set in gold on her ring finger. The sun was setting in the background and a glass of champagne was just out of frame next to her slender forearm.

Jaehyun almost couldn’t bring himself to swipe to the second photo in the post. He definitely wasn’t ready to read the caption or comments.

“You okay, J?” his sister asked, tipping her sunglasses again in an attempt to make eye contact  with her suddenly quiet brother.

“Uh yeah, yeah…” he replied distantly, locking his phone and slipping it into the pocket of his shorts. Squinting into the sun, he let it blind him momentarily, glimmering orbs floating in his vision for a few moments as he tipped his head back onto the back of the chair and let his eyes close shut, pushing the welling tears out and down his still warm face.

Later that night, alone in his apartment, he pulled the post up on his computer, cracking his fingers before letting his hands rest at his temple, drilling his elbows painfully down onto the sturdy wood desk.

Jaehyun studied the ring again, admiring the low light glimmering in the face of the stone, the antiqued finish of the band, and her perfectly shaped and glossy nails. He trained his eye on every detail in the first photo before a shaking hand clicked to the second.

A warm smile he hadn’t seen in almost six years occupied most of the screen, with the owner of the hand from the previous photo digging her face into his shoulder, long and wavy dark locks splayed out over his linen shirt-clad chest.

Jaehyun’s throat tightened as he dug his fingers into the skin at his hairline, massaging lightly. Blinking back the pooling tears, he let himself lift his gaze to meet Johnny’s eyes. His face was bright with a large and devious smile adorning it, as it was known to, his eyes narrowed - a sign of pure joy.

His hair was longer than Jeahyun expected it to be, with a small dark tuft caught up by a passing breeze. Small silver hoops hung from his ears and his hair looked soft and slightly damp, accompanied by a light flush in his cheeks that could have been from excitement or the wine or too much time in the Brazilian sun.

Instinctively, Jaehyun brought his hand to his own lips as his eyes dragged down the screen to examine the photo further. Johnny’s lips were pulled tight across his face, plush pink exposing a flashing white smile, too happy for words. His tattooed arm was thrown around her shoulder and his hand was lingering on her upper arm. Jaehyun knew what it felt like to have Johnny’s thumb rub absent circles on the flesh there and shuddered under the feeling of the phantom touch on his own arm.

Slamming his hand back down to his desk, Jaehyun finally let himself read the caption, which caused his breath to catch hard in the back of his throat, triggering a deep and husky cough.

“You’ll always be my favorite… ;)”

Locking his computer screen quickly, Jaehyun stood up before he could let himself read the congratulatory comments from hundreds of thousands of other celebrities, former fans, brands, and more. Nausea rose in his throat and he pressed down on the bridge of his nose to calm the light headed sensation.

Yanking his phone from the desk surface, he clicked quickly and waited for the phone to ring on the other end.

“Hey, you okay?” came Doyoung’s calming tone from the other end of the line. It had been hours since the photos had been posted, but Doyoung knew the only reason Jaehyun would be calling him.

“No…” Jaehyun trailed off, voice deep and tone hushed, moving quickly to his kitchen and pouring a generous serving of dark liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Of course he’s not fucking okay, Jesus! Look at that caption!” called a familiar voice in the background.

“Oh...is Mark there?” Jaehyun asked, taking a long swig of whiskey from the short glass and nearly choking on the liquid.

“Yeah, him and Hyuck stopped by for a bit,” Doyoung muttered quietly, feeling a tinge of remorse in his chest having to admit that there was a growing gathering of former members at his home.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I’ll let you go…”Jaehyun trailed off, heat rising in his face again.

“No, no, it’s okay, actually, do you want to come over? I know you’ve been spending a lot of time at home, which is why I didn’t ask, and I just…” Doyoung trailed off, rambling words dying in his throat.

Ready to refuse his pity invite, Jaehyun pulled his phone away from his ear and switched to speakerphone as he felt it buzz against his cheek.

Jungwoo had texted him a long message, pouring out flowery sympathies and imploring him to come over and be amongst old friends.

Jaehyun felt like he was being consoled after a distant family member’s passing, but reluctantly admitted defeat and told Doyoung he would be on his way shortly. The last thing he wanted to do was to be drunkenly begged to harmonize lines from Perfume or watch Mark attempt a headspin that would inevitably result in him cracking his head on the side of a table.

He checked himself in the mirror before grabbing his keys by his front door. His eyes looked tired, dark hair falling long across his brow, and his gray sweatpants were wrinkled. He pushed a navy baseball cap over his hair and grabbed his leather jacket to slide over a tight white undershirt.

Setting a comfortable pace on the highway, with too many cars zipping past him for the time of night, he settled on a recommended playlist on his Spotify, letting the songs slip out of his speakers and around his brain.

Johnny was happy. That should have made him happy. Instead, his mind was clouded with jealousy, regret, and sadness. Jealousy of the happy young woman cuddled up under his lightly tanned arm, regret for the drunken, angry words he had yelled in Johnny’s face at Jaemin and Jeno’s wedding, and sadness for the length of time they had gone without speaking.

After looking at the photos a few more times at a stop light, he realized he recognized her. A friend of a friend of Mark’s family, who had been brought by the green room years ago to meet the group casually during an award’s show. She had been warm and talkative, yet remaining respectful and keeping distance from the members. Johnny had made her feel more at ease by speaking with her in English and Jaehyun remembers the years of teasing that went on whenever he would leave a comment on her Instagram from his private account or mention that he and Mark had run into her on a trip to New York. He knew they stayed in touch over the years and with Johnny spending more than half the year in Chicago and LA now, it made sense that they would have reconnected.

Suddenly, the song lyrics on the current track registered with his brain and he had to tighten his hands on the steering wheel to not drift into the next lane.

Saw your picture on accident Your face has changed The lines are sinking in

I pressed play, I shouldn’t have Congratulations But do you ever wonder what we could have been?

He reached a shaking hand over to illuminate the screen of his phone, indicating that “Miss You More” by Katy Perry was hitting a little too close to home at that moment.

In an attempt to skip the song, he simply skipped ahead a few beats, the haunting lyrics doing little to console him.

I miss you more than I loved you I do

Jaehyun shut off the sound system and drove the rest of the way in silence, soon finding himself staring down at clean, white sneakers at the door of Doyoung’s apartment.

Awkwardly reaching out his knuckles to the door, he knocked, knowing entering without announcement would surely result in wide eyed stares, based on the amount of voices he heard in the background on the phone.

Jungwoo pulled open the door with a worried look in his sweet eyes. His hair was fluffy and dyed a honey brown, eyes looking tired but still offering warmth. He had been working long hours on set of the music show he was producing and he knew that the exhaustion spread across his features matched the one that met Jaehyun every time he looked in the mirror.

“Hey honey,” he croaked out, voice breaking as he spoke, pulling Jaehyun into a loose hug.

Jaehyun stiffened but quickly melted into his old friend’s embrace, wrapping strong arms around his back and dropping his head to his shoulder. He let himself breathe deeply into Jungwoo’s soft and loose sweater, before lifting his eyes to see Mark on the couch, gaze trained on his phone, held loosely in his hands between bent knees.

Hyuck was next to Mark, arm loosely tossed around him, looking up and offering a weak smile at Jaehyun as he stepped into the space. He nudged Mark’s knee with his, nodding over to Jaehyun, encouraging him to greet him. Mark lifted his head to meet Jaehyun’s stare, tipping his chin up lightly at him before digging his shoulder up under Hyuck’s arm and nuzzling into his side, turning his attention back to his phone.

Jaehyun attempted a small smile at one of his oldest friends, before gulping, nerves creeping in. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“Well well well, the gang’s all here..” came a new voice, emerging from the kitchen with two beers in his hands. Taeyong gripped the two, cold glass bottle necks in one grip, reaching his other hand out to nudge Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly.

“You okay?” he asked, voice a little quieter. A red beanie was pulled tightly over short hair, a baggy black hoodie covering his frame and hood pulled up over the hat.

“Yeah, Tae, thanks,” Jaehyun mumbled in reply, brushing past their former leader lightly as he caught a glimpse of Doyoung through the doorway to the kitchen.

Taeyong nodded in response, handing one of the beers to Mark, resisting the urge to clink the green glass together in a gesture that would be received as too celebratory for the occasion of the gathering.

Jaehyun shuffled into the kitchen, following as Doyoung slipped out the back door and onto the balcony to light a cigarette.

Without a word, Doyoung pulled Jaehyun into a hug as soon as he stepped into the warm, summer night air. For the first time since he left his apartment, Jaehyun started to feel the tears prick at the corners of his eyes again.

“We miss seeing you,” Doyoung spoke, voice warm as he pulled away from the hug. He scanned Jaehyun’s face, looking to process the image of the shell of the man he once knew and still cared for.

“You know, you don’t need an excuse to call or stop by. And I didn’t mean to exclude you, Taeyong was just around this weekend, for once,” Doyoung continued, exhaling a long breath of smoke.

“I know, Doie, I know…” Jaehyun replied, taking a drag of Doyoung’s cigarette when offered it. The nicotine burned his throat but it also drew his attention away from the rising ache in his chest, helping to block the tears from forming further.

“Have you thought about contacting…” Doyoung started, sucking in a deep breath before beginning the tricky sentence.

“I’m not calling him,” Jaehyun replied quickly, voice loud as they both made their way back into the kitchen. He knew the rest of the group surely had heard his statement, which caused his chest to tighten.

“Great, so the rest of us just have to deal with this shit now,” came Mark’s quiet voice, head dipped down on his phone again.

“Mark, chill,” Taeyong scolded, placing his now empty bottle on the coffee table and shooting daggers with dark eyes.

“Deal with what? The fact that I fell in love with him like an idiot and when our relationship didn’t work out, I couldn’t manage to make things normal again?” Jaehyun spat out, closing the gap to stand behind Taeyong’s spot on the couch, attempting to force Mark to look at him.

“Well, that’s definitely part of it!” Mark retorted, a light chuckle falling from his lips at the end of his statement. He placed his phone down on the table, running a hand through his short hair.

Hyuck darted worried eyes first to Doyoung, now standing near Jaehyun, then to Jungwoo, knees pulled up on the corner of the couch with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and then to Taeyong. Taeyong shook his head lightly, silently encouraging the conversation that had been bubbling for months.

“So it’s all my fault that everything fell apart? I fucking knew you blamed me for everything. He’s always been perfect in your eyes!” Jaehyun spat back, right hand tightening into a fist at his side. Sweat was forming at the back of his neck and he was feeling unbearably hot underneath the thick fabric of his jacket.

“Guys, stop…” Hyuck tried, voice breaking as he placed a hand gently on Mark’s knee, “We don’t need to fight. Nothing is anyone’s fault.”

“No, no, Hyuck, it is my fault. It’s my fault I couldn’t handle the pressure of fame. It’s my fault I wasn’t honest about my feelings for Johnny sooner. It’s my fault I overanalyzed and publicized our relationship. It’s my fault I couldn’t listen to him when he started being unhappy. And it’s my fault he barely talks to any of you anymore.” Jaehyun rambled on, each word more biting than the last, all the while, his eyes trained on Mark.

Mark suddenly stood, pulling his leg out from under Hyuck’s tightening grip, Taeyong standing suddenly too, as if to get in between him and his potential target.

Mark brushed past the tense posture of Taeyong, pushing into Jaehyun’s personal space, voice dropping low to almost a whisper. His face was close and Jaehyun could smell the two or three beers he had shared with Taeyong prior to his arrival. He was worried at what Mark would say next, knowing he had probably rehearsed this outburst countless times and repeated the complaints to Hyuck on long car rides or while dozing on their couch.

“None of that matters. The only thing I blame you for is not fighting harder for him. He loved you. We all know that.”

Jaehyun’s mouth hung open upon hearing the words, unable to reply, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t hate you, I just want my best friend back. Stop fucking pushing us away,” Mark let out, now close enough that Jaehyun could see the tears threatening to spill from his dark brown eyes.

This time, Jaehyun initiated the hug, pulling close his friend in the most familiar embrace that now felt so foreign. They had all lived together for what felt like an eternity, growing more comfortable in each other’s spaces and routines, but now felt more like strangers after so many years apart. They all used to share everything and now, their fragmented lives barely held shadows of their past.

“Do you still want to fight for him?” Mark breathed out, words ghosting over the shell of Jaehyun’s ear, making his heart stop momentarily in his chest.

All Jaehyun could manage in that moment was a curt nod, silently begging the lyrics of the song from the car to not be his fate.

We were a match, but not a fit We were a dream, unrealistic We didn’t lose, we didn’t win

“So are we going to Parent Trap this shit or what?” Jungwoo asked in excitement, voice pitching up an octave as he broke through the tension of the living room.

Jaehyun chuckled, letting the first laugh in days escape his lips, causing the room to erupt in laughter. His eyes crinkled up in the corners as his smile engulfed his face and deepened as he watched Hyuck pull Mark to him and plant a short kiss on his lips. Doyoung slammed a couple bottles of soju on the table next to short glasses and Taeyong reached out to begin pouring them.

At that moment, Jaehyun felt like he was finally home. He knew that even if he never again saw that heartstopping smile on Johnny’s face or heard him moan out his name in ecstasy, that he could find happiness in the arms of his friends in the summer night air. His heart had always been happiest here and he just hoped he wasn’t too late to bring Johnny back home.

--

[retrievablememories]

close to you | johnny

title: close to you pairing: vampire!johnny x black reader genre: domestic, fluff, vampire!au, fantasy, angst summary: two years after meeting johnny at a cafe and becoming acquainted with the vampiric nature you’d never before experienced, you’ve crafted a life with him that works for the both of you. word count: 3.1k warnings: blood and blood drinking, suggestive content, mentions of depression/self-identity issues, mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species a/n: ….i know i said a thousand times i wouldn’t write anything else for “picture me” but met gala johnny fucked my head up back in may and this was born. after rewriting it, it’s finally where i want it to be.

i strongly recommend reading picture me first if you haven’t already. there’s basic vampire lore in here, but also lots of context from the original story.

i don’t know if i’ll go back to regularly writing fic, but here’s something for the road if not! 🥹

on tiring nights and busy daytimes, please make room in your heart for me to rest

Your toes curl into the floor of the bathtub as Johnny’s hand slides up the length of your right arm, the washcloth he holds warm and fragrant against your skin.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Yes, you always ask that.” You giggle quietly.

Johnny smiles. The bathroom’s dimness and the wavering light from the candles he placed sporadically around the space make his eyes look even deeper than usual. You are not as overwhelmed by their intensity the way you used to be, though. “That’s because I’d never want to do anything to make you feel otherwise.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you agree in a whisper, watching his hand drift from your shoulder to cross your collarbones and slide down your sternum, leaving the scent of fruits and trails of soap behind. “Did you enjoy the museum today?”

“We’re still preparing for the new exhibit, so I can’t say it was a calm day,” he says. “But I’m looking forward to it. I think you’ll like it.”

“I think so too. You can’t go wrong with a good seascape, after all.” Johnny taps your knee for you to lift your leg up and out of the water. You rest your leg on the edge of the tub like you’re posing for a picture, and you laugh when he lowers his head and kisses your wet shin.

The washcloth travels from your toes up to your thigh, by which point Johnny’s fingers are more involved than the cloth is, dipping further into the water and massaging your inner thigh in the way you know he likes to do when he’s asking for affection without directly asking you. For a moment, you observe the muscles in his forearm as they shift, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal the sinewy flesh.

You raise your eyebrows in an attempt to look surprised, displaying a smile you can’t conceal. “Hey, don’t you want to eat dinner after this? You haven’t had any blood since this afternoon.”

“I guess. But I could just eat something else instead.” Johnny laughs at his own double entendre. You shake your head, sharing in the laughter even with the sudden flush of warmth his seeking touch has inspired in the pit of your stomach.

“Later! I am actually hungry, thank you.”

Johnny finishes cleaning your body with his fair share of errant kisses here and there, which he can never help himself about when it comes to this intimate time of bathing you. You love it all. But, you think your favorite part of it must be when he helps you out of the tub and dries you off—wrapping the big towel around you and kissing your forehead while he pats the water off your skin—then takes you into the bedroom to sit you on the bed and begin moisturizing your body.

His hands are always gentle with you; he is always conscious of the way he touches you, passes by you, even looks at you. You know part of it is because of his increased strength as a vampire, but also because it’s just the way he feels about you.

The first time he’d done this, before it became a regular routine, he’d sat in the tub with you after sex and washed you from top to bottom, his long legs tangled with yours. You didn’t know quite how to take it, as no one else had ever done anything like this for you. But you allowed yourself to relax into it, feeling warm and cared for in a peculiar way you hadn’t before experienced.

You’d embarrassed yourself by starting to cry halfway through him putting lotion on your skin, both of you surprised by the sudden outrush of emotion. But as he always did, he told you it was okay. More than okay. Fine, even. You could cry whenever or however much you wanted, and the only thing he’d do was wipe your tears away.

You don’t feel the same embarrassment from that memory anymore. It brings a small smile to your lips as Johnny’s hand caresses your upper arm, rubbing the dreamy-smelling lotion into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Johnny asks, regarding your face closely, his hands never pausing in their work. You stare down into his eyes, which are slightly obscured by the long hair that he’d since grown out. You’d been a bit sad to see the undercut disappear, but you love being able to stroke his hair when you are falling asleep at night. 

Presently, you reach out to brush the strands away from his eyes. “I love you. That’s what I’m thinking about.”

His smile mirrors yours. “Trying to flatter me, huh?” He tickles the bottom of your foot and you yelp from the sensation, trying to squirm away from him. “I love you, Y/N.” His voice is choppy with laughter at your response to his actions, but the sincerity in his eyes is abundant.

After ensuring you are soft enough for your liking, Johnny leaves to go warm up the food while you dress. When you finally make your way into the kitchen, feeling light enough to practically float across the floor, the food is placed on the table and ready for you to eat. It’s one of many dinners Johnny has painstakingly learned to cook for you, though he himself never actually needs to eat. He’s a veritable chef now, which you appreciate. It means you rarely have to cook, and you certainly don’t miss eating campus cafeteria food multiple times a day.

“Thank you for the meal,” you say, sitting down across from him at the dinner table. He doesn’t share a meal with you this time like he occasionally does but instead sips from a blood bag, the viscous substance leaving his lips stained ruby. It makes for an amusing and slightly morbid scene.

You don’t stay the night with him everyday, but it is many days. You still stay at your dorm and spend breaks at your parents’ house to maintain their belief that you’re living only on campus. Your parents still do not know about Johnny—and likely never will, if you can help it—and the only friends you’ve told are the handful of supernatural-sympathetic people you’d managed to meet on- and off-campus. It’s not at all easy living two realities at once, entirely hiding Johnny’s existence from your family, but you manage it.

He feels bad about the strain it has on you more often than you’d like, but you never allow him to persuade you into changing your mind about your relationship. Because, after that Halloween night with Johnny and the many other nights you began spending together the same way…you realized that you could not let him go, despite your lingering fears about being discovered. And neither could he do the same.

After you both finish eating, Johnny puts on an album for you to listen to, the sound flowing out of the sizable Bluetooth speakers in the living room. You recognize it as an old swing record from his childhood that you were surprised he was even able to find on streaming. After Supper Jams is what he likes to call these moments, though you’ve always found that a bit corny—and have no problem telling him so.

For a while, you lie across his couch with your heart and mind and stomach full, absentmindedly swinging your leg to the music’s rhythm while Johnny goes over some paperwork from the museum beside you—his fingers tapping your forehead every so often to try to annoy you.

“You’re trying too hard,” you finally tell him, swatting his fingers away the next time he tries to drum them on your head.

“Trying too hard?”

“To mess with me. It’s not gonna work today, you know,” you say, still trying to wrestle Johnny’s fingers away from your face before he pokes an eye out. He takes an obvious amusement in your fruitless attempts to foil him.

“You’d accuse me of that? I’m literally just doing paperwork.”

You roll your eyes and snort. “Then keep your hands to yourself, sir.”

“...Would you really like for me to do that, though?”

“...Johnny.”

Your little back-and-forth is enough to get him to let up, though you’re disappointed when he finishes with the papers and leaves your side a few minutes later. He doesn’t go far, though; he stops at the window to gaze down at the blazing city scene stories below. He stands with his hands tucked in his pockets, no doubt thinking about something with the faraway look on his face. 

After the current song ends, it switches to another that you know is one of Johnny’s favorites, and he looks back to you with the corners of his mouth tilting up in the soft way that dwells in your daydreams. He takes a step forward and holds his hand out to you. “Dance with me?”

“You want to dance?” You get up from where you were sitting, though with some effort due to the after-dinner lethargy setting in, to stand in front of him. You accept his proffered hand, cold but welcoming in your own. He brings you into his body, firm against yours and always with its familiar scent. His other hand goes to the small of your back; you exhale quietly.

“It’s more an excuse to hold you,” Johnny murmurs, chuckling lowly. “But we can dance, too.”

“I hope you’re not looking for extravagant kicks and spins, because you know that’s not my forte and I’m a little food-drunk right now,” you admit, your face warming.

“It’s fine. Just follow me.”

You follow the movements of Johnny’s bare feet as he guides you across the floor of his apartment. He catches the look of concentration on your face as you glance down to both of your feet occasionally, and this simple action makes his entire being throb with the intensity of his affection for you. He is tempted to forget the music and the dancing and lose himself in the beating of your heart, letting the perpetual rhythm wind itself into the very atoms of his body. Many nights he has lain his head on your chest and let the sound blend itself into his subconscious.

One song melts into the next, and the night stretches out before you. The city darkens further with the last of the blueness leaving the sky, covering the firmament in pitch black.

You glance at your reflection in the window, and there is no one there but you—your hand held by an imaginary palm, the back of your sweater wrinkled by the touch of an invisible hand. You regard this sight neutrally; it doesn’t disturb you the same way it used to when you’d first met Johnny. You knew it made him sad to see you so uneasy because of it, and your reactions served as a reminder he didn’t need. You didn’t want to do anything to purposely hurt him, but it took you time to grow accustomed to this characteristic of his vampirism.

You’ve grown used to many things in your time with him, and you both did—and still do—your best to make things feel natural. You love Johnny; accepting everything he is was the only option you could choose.

The same could not be said for your family, most of your classmates, or society at large, but at the end of it all, that didn’t matter. 

You keep dancing until your feet grow tired of it. You’d never get exhausted of being in Johnny’s embrace, but the human body has its limits; and so the music continues on as your motions slow to a stop.

“I think I’ll get ready for bed now,” you say, rubbing your eyes with one hand and still holding Johnny’s hand with the other. “I’m getting really sleepy.”

Johnny smiles at the look of languid content on your face. He leans in to capture your lips in a kiss, and you readily meet him in the middle. It is another minute before you part from each other.

“I’ll join you after I clean up in here,” he whispers against your lips. You nod to the promise of his arms around you once more, giving him a tired smile before departing to his room.

When you are gone, Johnny stops the music and cuts the speakers off before going to shuffle his paperwork back into his briefcase. He takes his time to fix up a few more things in the room before it looks perfectly clean to his eyes. Once he’s done, Johnny looks to the large painting on the far wall, a grin slowly stretching his lips. 

Every time he sees it, he swears his sluggish heart beats faster and his blackened blood speeds through his veins. The portrait of his own likeness.

The gold necklace lying delicately against his collarbones, the strands of midnight black hair curling over his eye, the sharp angles of his jaw, the curves of his lips. Sometimes he stands there as long minutes pass and studies each of his features in the painting, pressing his fingers to his face to feel the shape of every individual one just as clearly as he is seeing them.

It’s no act of narcissism. It’s the rediscovery of oneself.

--

You’d saved up money for months to commission the portrait from a local artist.

The idea of doing it wouldn’t leave you alone. What other way for Johnny to see himself if he could not use mirrors, windows, or even the still waters of a pond? The small picture in his photo album was the only thing in the world he had of his own face, and it shouldn’t have been the only thing. You didn’t want it to be—not if something ever happened to it.

When you’d told Johnny about commissioning the artist, he barely knew how to respond. You’d never seen him cry before then, but his eyes were unmistakably glassy, pooling up with everything he didn’t yet know how to express to you verbally. You’d squeezed his hand in yours and let him lean his head against your arm with eyes closed, watching him contend with the wave of emotion he was experiencing. You’d been somewhat flustered yourself, hoping you hadn’t made the wrong move with this decision but wanting to provide some resolution to him in any way you could. Fortunately, your intentions were accepted beyond measure.

Johnny sat patiently for every session, his body still though his mind was usually clamoring with too many thoughts to count. Completing the painting had taken longer than the typical process, as the artist could use no photos for reference except for the one in Johnny’s photo album, but you’d specifically chosen someone with experience in painting supernatural beings—particularly vampires. That was worth the extra cost.

In Johnny’s mind, he could not find an answer for why he’d never tried to have himself painted before, but maybe it was…fear. Disgust. Apathy. Immense self-loathing. Maybe he’d grown more used to the familiarity of this banal existence than he thought, grown used to never seeing himself. Of never feeling alive…and simply fading into the blur of everyday life, days and months and decades passing by and leaving him behind somewhere in a pocket of time—the last time he’d been human. Not content with his existence, but accepting the fact that it was what it was, unable to be changed.

And then you came along—strangely naive but cognizant of his emotions, luminous from the essence of your lifeblood, and new.

After seeing the painting hanging on his wall for the first time after it’d finally been completed, Johnny had practically crushed you into his arms, tucking his face into the ringlets of your hair for so long that you almost worried he would suffocate.

“Johnny?” you whispered, one of your hands gliding down his back. “Are you okay?”

“My angel,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his voice low and tight with the threat of more tears. “You’ll never know how you’ve saved me.”

--

Staring at the portrait now, Johnny still recalls all of those emotions as clearly as the day he’d first felt them. They fill his chest with a sense of completion, something he hasn’t experienced in many years.

Turning the lights off in the living room after another lingering look at the painting, Johnny heads to the bedroom where you wait for him.

When he finally joins you under the sheets, your bodies curl into each other. He closes his eyes, his face close enough to you to have his nose brushing your temple; your hand goes underneath the covers to rest over the birthmark on his side, the location of which you’ve memorized by now. You could find it blindfolded. You brush your fingers across it slowly.

And that birthmark is what you try to focus on as you fall asleep, instead of the myriad of thoughts that commonly crowd your mind at this time of night. The most consistent ones being about what your future will look like.

You are only some months away from graduating university now. No matter what comes next, your life with Johnny is something you never want to give up. You’d hold it forever if you could…and you want him to make that possible for you. You’d expressed that to him on more than one occasion.

Still, Johnny would never turn you. Most of his answers to your inquiries about it had been tense silence or firm, succinct rejections. He never raises his voice to you, but his demeanor and tone of voice in those moments is enough to tell you he hates the subject. At some point, you stopped asking. You won’t force him to do a thing he doesn’t want, even if you long for it deep inside.

Despite his steadfast refusal, you’ve entwined yourself with him so deeply that you’ve started to believe maybe you could live many more years beside him—long after your human body perishes. You hope he never forgets the taste of your blood, the few droplets of it he’s allowed himself to indulge in at your offering. Though he’s never done so with another lover, you hope he keeps all your pictures. You already know the portrait will stay with him forever.

You shift closer to give Johnny a chaste kiss on the lips, and he grins with his eyes still closed. The touch of his lips reminds you of your earlier kiss and the sharp, bloody iron that had lingered in his mouth. Maybe you didn’t need to be a vampire to experience the facets of his reality. 

Because of him, you’d become accustomed to the taste of blood.

[saturnznct]

d3 - christmas in chicago | jhs

➸ word count; 1240 words

➸ jude; aged 14, verity & katie; aged 5, connor; aged 1 month 

➸ alternative names used; junho (jude), eunyoung (katie)

dadmas masterlist | nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Surprisingly, your five-year-old twins are not the ones who wake you up at five in the morning on Christmas Day. Instead, you arise to the sound of your one-month-old son fussing in his bedside crib.

You stretch, shifting around to position yourself upright. It’s been roughly three or four hours since you last fed, and your body reacts accordingly, loose white t-shirt beginning to dampen. 

‘I’ll take him,’ Johnny murmurs from behind you, in his raspy morning voice.

‘He needs fed,’ you reply, lifting Connor up from the crib and onto your chest.

‘I’ll keep you company,’ Johnny settles further into the pillows, lightly tickling Connor’s feet with his finger.

This year, you’d found yourself in Chicago for Christmas. Last year you had spent the holiday in Korea after staying there for a little stint because of Johnny’s work, but you had come back to your home in Chicago during the summer to prepare for the birth of your youngest son.

Your hair falls as you turn your head to smile at Johnny, so he reaches a hand out to push the stray hair behind your ear. 

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful,’ he rubs your cheek on the way back down with his thumb, before dropping it down to the back of Connor’s head, ‘and Merry first Christmas, little man.’

‘Merry Christmas, John. Our last first Christmas,’ you smile lazily.

‘Well, I mean, we could have another surprise-‘

‘Absolutely not,’ you interrupt, and he laughs sheepishly, ‘four is more than enough.’

‘I know, I was kidding,’ Johnny kisses your elbow, ‘I love our family so much.’

Johnny just watches you feed for a few minutes before your bedroom door cracks open, two little girl’s faces appearing behind it.

‘Hey girls,’ Johnny sits up on his elbows, the twins taking it as an invitation to come inside.

‘It’s Christmas, daddy,’ Katie crawls up onto the bed, Verity not far behind her. 

‘It is, angel,’ Johnny lets her crawl into his arms, ‘do you think Santa’s been?’

The twins nod rapidly, both inching closer towards their father.

‘Can we go downstairs and go and see, daddy?’ Verity bounces on her heels with excitement.

‘Mommy’s feeding your little brother, Vev,’ Johnny explains, ‘we’ll have to wait until he’s done, okay?’

‘Okay,’ the girls sigh, slightly dejected, but the excitement quickly outweighs it.

The four of you talk quietly for a few minutes, the twins buzzing about potential presents Santa may have brought them. Once Connor pulls away from you, the twins automatically straighten up, ready to jump out of bed to harass Jude into waking up.

‘Girls-‘ Johnny tries to get them to slow down, but they’re already reaching up and pulling your bedroom door open, plodding along down the hallway towards their older brother’s bedroom.

‘Can you manage?’ Johnny lays a warm hand just under your shoulder.

‘Yeah, you go make sure they don’t jump on his head.’

Johnny leaves the room as you rise from the bed slowly, beginning to pat Connor’s back.

Jude is leaning against the hallway wall, half asleep still, once you emerge from the bedroom.

‘Morning,’ you chuckle, his face brightening when he sees you and his baby brother.

‘Can we go downstairs now?’ Katie tugs on Johnny’s sleeve. 

‘Yeah, come on angel, let’s go and see what Santa’s brought you.’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Grandma!’

‘Hello little ones,’ Johnny’s mother hugs her granddaughters before looking up and noticing Jude.

‘Junho-ah,’ she breaks away from the twins to hug Jude, ‘Merry Christmas.’

‘John-ah, Y/N! How’s the little one?’

‘Groggy,’ you turn to the side slightly to show Connor laying against your chest half-asleep, ‘someone is ready for his morning nap.’

‘Go put him down, his little crib is still in the spare room.’

Johnny’s parents had a little fold-out crib for Connor just in case you spent a long time there. 

‘I’ll put him down, come on,’ Johnny takes Connor from you, rocking him slowly as he ventures up the stairs.

‘Merry Christmas mum/mom,’ you hug Johnny’s mother, ‘thank you for hosting this year.’

‘You know how much I love cooking for you guys,’ she replies, ‘you’ve made such a big family, it warms my heart to have you all here together.’

‘He went straight to sleep,’ Johnny reappears at the top of the stairs, ‘all the Christmas excitement made him tired I think.’

‘Now that we’re all here,’ Johnny’s dad says, ‘lets start on presents!’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Oh, Eunyoung, no,’ Johnny’s mother lunges across the kitchen counter, grabbing Katie by the waist and lifting her down from the stepstool, just as she was about to put her fingers in the cake batter.

‘Sorry mum/mom,’ you manage to eventually catch up with Katie, the one month old Connor in your arms, ‘I lost sight of her for like two seconds.’

‘It’s okay dear, you should be sitting! Wow I’m getting too old for this.. Where’s my son, he should be- John!’

Johnny appears in the doorway behind you, holding Verity.

‘Sorry, little miss spilled water all over herself.’ He lets Verity down, who scampers over to her Grandmother and twin sister.

‘Girls, how about you go play with your new toys?’ Johnny’s mother suggests, ‘let your mum/mom rest.’

‘No, I’ll help you with dinner-‘

‘No you will not,’ she fires back sternly, ‘you just gave birth. Go sit on the couch and relax.’

Sensing that she won’t back down, you retreat to the couch, where Jude is laying around on his phone.

‘Are you ok, mum/mom?’ Jude looks up from his phone in concern when you quietly whine in discomfort.

‘I’m good, just achy,’ you don’t think your teenage son wants the details of your postpartum body. 

‘Can I do anything?’ He offers, forever the sweetest boy.

‘You could play with your sisters,’ you suggest, ‘stop them from getting in your grandma’s way.’

‘Okay,’ he throws his phone down, wandering over to the girls and feign excitement over their dolls.

Johnny helps his parents with the cooking, darting around the kitchen, pulling things off the hob, out of the oven and into dishes ready for the dining table. 

‘Dinner’s ready!’ Johnny’s mother calls.

You place Connor in the crib you’ve brought downstairs, as Jude and the twins practically sprint over to the dining table.

‘Ah-ah, not so fast,’ Johnny chastises, ‘let’s carry a dish each.’

He gives the twins a cooler dish each, which they carry to the table and put down, before sliding into their seats. 

‘You, sit down,’ Johnny’s mother swats at you when you appear in the kitchen and try to help.

‘Alright, dig in everyone,’ Johnny’s mother announces.

‘Kids,’ you begin sternly before they pick up their utensils.

‘Jal meogeotseumnida,’ the kids chirp in unison, Johnny’s mother laughing as they start stuffing their faces as soon as the last syllable leaves their mouths.

‘You’re welcome.’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Hey,’ Johnny is sitting up in bed, orange glow of your bedside lamp illuminating the bare skin of his chest.

‘Hi,’ you’d just finished saying goodnight to Jude.

He wraps his arms around you once you’re in bed beside him.

‘I had the most perfect day,’ he murmurs sleepily.

‘Me too. Exhausted now.’

‘M’not surprised. But I love being in Chicago with you, and our family.’

‘It feels like home, doesn’t it?’

‘It is home. But anywhere with you is.’

‘You’re so cheesy,’ you cringe, ‘but I agree with the sentiment.’

‘Merry Christmas, I love you.’

‘Merry Christmas, John. I love you too..’

[swordsandholly]

Been thinking about the 141 boys coming to visit your southern family…

Price ends up out back with your papaw and uncles staring at a riding mower that they haven’t been able to get back up and working. Beer in hand, hip cocked, mimicking their ‘uh-uh’s and ‘yep’s. He tries to help with grilling but your dad won’t let him anywhere near it because “damn brits can’t cook out to save their lives. I’ve seen what y’all eat.”

Ghost gets a little overwhelmed by the women fussing over him. He’s on his third plate of food and your mimi is still loading him up with more mac n cheese because “He’s just such a big boy - he really needs to fill up! Are you sure you’re feeding him enough?” Luckily Simon is a literal human vacuum - a total garbage disposal. He drinks about a pitcher of sweet tea by himself because you can’t tell me that man doesn’t have a deadly sweet tooth. You have to drive home after the food coma they put him in.

Gaz is the decided favorite son-in-law (never mind that you aren’t married yet.) He’s just so polite, happily helping wherever needed. Quick witted and more than prepared to participate in the small town gossip. Giving genuine, dramatic gasps at the news that the preachers son of your family’s rival church took a trip (went to prison). It just makes sense that boy always had a screw loose, after all. He picks up on the cooking easily enough, asking your mom for all her recipes to make both you and her a lovely custom cook book of family recipes.

Soap goes absolutely hog wild on the four wheelers with your cousins. Regaling the younger ones with stories of his ‘adventures’ (pranks on the other 141 members.) He picks up some of your slang for the fun of it. After all, sigogglin’ just works with a Scottish accent so well. Unfortunately he can’t handle the jalapeño corn bread - it’s just too spicy for the poor boy.

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[icepopstar5105us]

“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um… All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”