#best state to be a real estate agent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelytsunoda · 2 years

Text

starstrukk // zhou guanyu

summary: there were many things that fred vasseur took on when he became the team principal of alfa romeo racing. the hardest task, however, seems to currently be keeping zhou guanyu away from his daughter.

or, the four times that y/n vasseur and zhou guanyu were almost interrupted by fred, and the one time that he found out about his daughter and his rookie

pairing: zhou guanyu x vasseur! reader

warnings: fred is in a constant state of disappointed father energy, there will be multiple sex or almost-sex scenes, so you have been warned. secret relationships, google translated mandarin. mentions of silverstone 2022.

author's note: this is pure crack. i came up with this idea during me real estate law test review when i should have been paying attention and just chose not to.

when y/n met zhou.

she hated parties. especially team parties.

there was no reason for her to be at the gala, and she'd told her father as much, but he wanted his family around him to open the 2022 racing season. and, as much as she wanted to protest, y/n vasseur was a daddy's girl through and through. she loved her father to bits.

which was how she found herself dressed in a cherry red gown she bought at melanie lyne for less than $500, the dress that she wore to all of these stupid events, with her forty-dollar skin-tone aldo heels on underneath, her dark hair curled in her apartment bathroom less than an hour before. the curling iron hadn't been hot enough, and her hair was already starting to lose it's shape.

she was sitting at the table alone, reading a romance book on her phone that followed an fbi agent and the woman he was sworn to protect. it wasn't the best thing she had read in her life, but it was better than following her father around and pretending to be interested in chatting with representatives from orlen and singha.

that was the night that she met zhou guanyu for the first time.

the driver looked like a deer in headlights as fred paraded the rookie around the room, brushing elbows with investors. valtteri was smart enough to slip away from fred at any chance he could get, but zhou hadn't gotten the memo. he was new to this. he probably didn't even know that there was a memo to begin with.

when she saw how miserable the driver looked, it was like something inside her changed. she knew well enough that she had had that same look on her face throughout every sponsorship event she had attended since she was thirteen years old. she found herself shutting off her phone and slipping it into her sequined clutch purse before she made her way over to where her father and zhou were talking to a tuxedoed representative from mitsubishi.

"hi." she cut in, introducing herself as she stuck a hand out for the rookie driver to shake. "y/n vasseur. has my father bored you to death yet?"

she felt a sense of accomplishment when zhou smiled at her, his hand heavy and inviting in hers. "not yet, but i think i lost a few decades since this whole thing started."

"oh, you and me both."

the first time fred thought something was up.

it was the third race of the year. y/n vasseur was sitting in a corner office in the alfa romeo motorhome, her thick hair tied in a clumsy ponytail, legs crossed underneath her as she hunched over her macbook, a ceramic hot chocolate mug rapidly cooling next to her as she narrowed her eyes at the pdf file she was reading.

she considered herself lucky to be allowed to work remotely. she worried about fred a little too often, and found herself accompanying him to a few races a year, not just for the atmosphere, but to make sure that her father didn't work himself too hard.

the office door slowly clicked open, something she barely noticed as she chewed on the end of her pen, music thrumming through the airpod in her right ear.

the door closed as quietly as it had opened, two strong arms wrapping her in a warm, comforting embrace as zhou guanyu kissed her softly on the cheek.

"don't work yourself too hard, bao bei. you've been stressed out all weekend. i'm worried about you."

"if anyone should be worried, it should be me." she joked. "my boyfriend is the one who's about to strap himself into a three-hundred mile an hour death trap".

she leaned back in her chair, looking over at the driver. he still had his arms around her, and she reached up to lace her fingers with his.

"have you eaten yet? i brought you a bowl of fettucine from hospitality." zhou hummed, kissing her forehead.

"thank you, baby." she said softly, standing up from her desk chair to properly wrap her arms around the driver.

her father still didn't know that she was seeing his rookie driver. she knew that frederic would overreact, and someone (likely zhou) would lose their job, and all credibility within the sport, especially given how high-stress everybody felt during a race weekend. she was planning on at least waiting until the summer break to tell her father.

"i love you." she hummed, kissing him softly, one hand gently carding through zhou's hair as he held her, his tongue moving softly with hers.

"i love you more." he hummed, cradling her body close. "my lucky charm."

"hm, yeah? i'm your lucky charm?" she giggled, pressing up on her tiptoes, looping her arms around her lover's neck.

"yeah, yeah you are." he hummed, kissing her again as she pushed him down onto the couch, halfheartedly looking over at the large tinted window to make sure that the blinds were drawn enough that nobody could see what they were about to do.

she kicked off her slip-on vans, straddling zhou with one knee on either side of his lap as she kissed him hard, grinding down on his lap, one hand on either side of his face. the driver clutched her thighs, moaning softly as he tilted his head back to allow the heated make-out session to take on a better angle.

"mhm, should i give you a little extra luck, baby?" she hummed, gently tugging at his hair before she kissed him deeply, one hand moving down his chest.

"mhm, yeah, how are you going to do that, angel face?" he breathed as she kissed his neck, hands fumbling with the buttons on his slacks.

"i can think of a few ways." she grinned, wrapping her palm around zhou's erection before moving her hand up and down his shaft, peppering kisses to his neck as she worked.

"oh, bao bei." he hummed, throwing his head back. "just like that, darling. just like that." he moaned as he bucked his hips into her hand, and she could feel the heat building up between her legs as she slipped off his lap, hand still working as she situated herself between his spread legs.

she smiled up at her lover, pressing a kiss to his thigh before taking his length into her mouth, hands braced on his thighs as zhou moaned in pleasure, biting his lower lip as so not to be heard through the thin walls before he mumbled something in mandarin.

"your mouth feels like heaven, baby." he hummed, reaching down to wrap his hand around her ponytail. "take it nice and slowly, let's not rush this."

he leaned back against the couch, another strangled moan leaving his throat.

until there was a knock on the door.

y/n had never sprung to her feet so fast, wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth with the hem of her cotton crop top, her lover's still-hard cock falling from her mouth as she looked over at the door.

"y/n? are you in there, kiddo?" fred vasseur's voice echoed into the room, panic sinking into y/n's bones.

"closet, now." she hissed, practically pulling zhou off the couch. "he can't know you're here." she turned back to the door as her boyfriend backed into the small closet, a throw pillow from the couch covering his painful hard on. "one second, dad!"

she kissed zhou apologetically before she closed the closet door, quickly giving her appearance a once over in her phone camera before opening the office door.

"hey, dad. what's up?"

"just checking on my beautiful daughter." fred vasseur answered honestly, pulling his daughter in for a hug. "are you coming out to watch the qualifying session?"

y/n nodded. "yeah, i need a break from my work. i feel like my eyes have gone numb from staring at that screen all morning. how are you doing? you aren't working too hard?"

fred shrugged. "you know how it is. have you had lunch yet?"

y/n nodded. "i had something brought up from hospitality, literally like ten minutes ago. i haven't eaten yet, though. when does qualifying start?"

"in about an hour. i'm trying to wrangle the drivers. you haven't seen guanyu, have you?"

"no, i haven't sorry." she wondered if she answered too fast, if her dad knew something was up.

if her dad knew that his rookie driver was hiding in her office closet. that zhou guanyu's cock had been down his daughter's throat not even a minute before she opened that office door. "dad, i hate to cut this short, but i really do have work to do."

fred cleared his throat "right, sorry kiddo." he looked like he was about to back away, when he paused. "do i smell men's cologne?"

shit. zhou's dior cologne had a very distinct smell to it, following the chinese driver around like a cloud.

"dad!" she warned, moving to close the door. "you have work to do!"

"no boyfriends in the motorhome, y/n! you know the rules!"

"goodbye, dad!"

at the sound of the door closing, zhou knocked on the closet door from the inside. "can i come out now?"

she opened the closet door, frowning sadly at her boyfriend. "hey. sorry about my dad. no boys in the motorhome has been a rule since i was sixteen. not like i ever had boys to bring in to the motorhome."

"it's okay." zhou said softly, kissing her on the forehead, one hand cupping the side of her face. "i know why you don't want him to know about us."

"thank you for understanding, guanyu. i love you, baby." she pressed up against her boyfriend to kiss him softly, her tongue slipping into his mouth before she gently bit down on his bottom lip.

"now, let's take care of that pesky little problem you've got down there." she hummed mischeviously, her hand sliding down the front of his boxers.

now fred definitely knows that something is up, but he doesn't know with who.

the sun was filtering through the sheer curtains into y/n vasseur's bedroom. she was curled up comfortably underneath the goose down duvet, zhou guanyu's arms wrapped securely around her, her head resting on his chest as she stirred awake.

"good morning, gorgeous." zhou hummed, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she nuzzled her nose into his bare chest.

"mornin'." she grumbled, pulling the covers up over their groggy bodies. "can i go back to bed?"

zhou laughed, running his fingers through her hair. "don't you have to go to work?"

she shook her head, hooking her leg over zhou's thigh before kissing him softly. "i'm working from home today. do you have to do anything?"

"just a sponsorship meeting." he hummed softly, kissing her again.

"so we can stay in bed longer?" y/n said hopefully, raising her eyebrows as she moved to straddle her lover, silk pajama shorts riding up on her thighs.

"of course we can, angel face." zhou grins, his hands on her hips as he rolled their bodies over so that he was hovering over her, his arms caging her to the bed.

he kissed her softly, smiles of contentment blooming on their faces. y/n loved soft, cozy mornings like these. mornings where she could lie in bed with the man she loved, feeling safe, loved and secure. days where they would be content doing nothing at all.

"i love mornings like these." she hummed as zhou softly pressed kisses to her face, the knotted drawstring of his sweatpants pressing into her bare stomach where the old band shirt she slept in had ridden up. "just you and me. no worries, no responsibilities." she giggled as zhou blew a raspberry into her neck.

"so how do you want to spend this free morning?" zhou hummed, his fingers teasing the waistband of her shorts.

"i can think of a few ideas." she said huskily, raising an eyebrow as she slipped one hand down the back of her lover's sweatpants to cup the globe of his ass within her palm.

zhou smiled, leaning in to kiss her sweetly, and deeply. "i like the way you think, vasseur."

she hooked her leg over his thigh, grinding against the ever-growing bulge in her boyfriend's sweatpants as zhou slipped his tongue into her mouth. she moaned in contentment, burying her fingers in his hair as the driver gripped her thigh tightly.

zhou's nimble fingers began to unlace the drawstring resting just below his lover's navel when her cell phone began to ring from the nightstand.

"motherfucker!" y/n groaned, gently pushing zhou off of her. "again, dad! seriously?"

zhou chuckled, sitting back on his heels. "how do you know it's your dad?"

"because my phone is on 'do not disturb' and he's one of three people that are on the greenlit calls list." she groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes.

her lover looked at her thoughtfully, running his thumb over the soft flesh of her calf. "do you want me to run you a shower, bao bei? that way the water is all warm and ready for you when you're done talking to your dad?"

"that would be great, love. thank you." she hummed, sitting up and kissing zhou softly before reaching for her phone. once zhou was safely out of her bedroom, she swiped to answer the whatsapp video call from her father. "hi, dad. why in god's name are you calling me at seven in the morning on a friday?"

fred vasseur chuckled, looking at his daughter's dishevelled appearance and the messy, crinkled sheets that she had pulled around her shoulders. "i was just double checking if we were doing lunch today or tomorrow. your mother tried to get me on that google calendar thing, but i don't think it synced properly with my phone and i can't find the lunch anywhere."

y/n groaned, rolling her eyes. "dad, that could have been a text message."

"i know. but i just wanted to talk to my baby girl."

"dad, i'm twenty-two years old, hardly your baby girl any more." she chuckled, running a hand through her hair.

frederic smiled. "nonsense, y/n. you'll always be my little girl."

she could hear the shower in her miniscule ensuite bathroom whistle to life, the rush of warm water a comforting background noise through the pale pink wall.

"y/n, is there someone else in your apartment? is that why you wanted to get rid of me so easily?"

"no!" y/n said, again, a little too fast for her father not to have gathered that there was, in fact, another person in her apartment. "i just turned the shower on before i answered your call. you know how long that the water takes to warm up in my apartment."

"babe!"

fuck me. y/n visibly recoiled when zhou's voice echoed through the apartment.

"what body wash did you want?" the rookie driver grinned, sticking his head out the doorframe.

y/n glared at him, hiding the camera from her father as she made a slicing motion across her throat to indicate that the driver should probably stop talking.

"y/n y/m/n vasseur! do you have a boy in your apartment? and is that a hickey on your neck?"

"i'll meet you for lunch at 1:30, the usual spot." y/n said hurriedly, grabbing her cell phone from the mattress next to her and reasdjusting the duvet that was wrapped around her shoulders so that her father couldn't see the glaring red mark where her neck met her collarbone. "we are not talking about my love life at any point today."

"no, i think it's good that you've found someone!" fred beamed. "is it somebody that i know?"

"no, dad. i'm not dating within the sport." she wondered if her father could hear the untruths in her voice. "but i'm not ready to introduce him to the dumpster fire that which is my father's workplace."

"do i at least get a name?"

"goodbye, dad." she groaned, hanging up before she flopped back on the bed, head in her hands as she fought the urge to scream.

the time he guessed but knew better than to say anything.

the silverstone crash had rattled everybody. but what hurt y/n vasseur the most was having to keep her emotion under wraps as she watched her boyfriend's car flip over going into the first corner, the halo dragging across the tarmac and the grass before tumbling over a tyre barrier.

as far as her father was concerned, her friendship with zhou guanyu was strictly platonic, and she was struggling to keep her composure. she needed to be as calm as every other person in the alfa romeo garage as she stood on the pit wall next to her father, nervously clutching frederic's arm and chewing on her nails to distract herself.

to refrain from shouting out, refrain from sobbing.

her lover was strapped in a tin death trap, dangling from his seat and pressed up against the chain link fence, and she couldn't show any emotion whatsoever.

when it was confirmed that zhou was okay, and he had been transferred to the medical bay, y/n finally allowed herself to feel the torrent of emotions that she had kept bottled up like the seashells and sand she kept in that jar on her mantel.

she made her way out into the paddock, still struggling to force her weak, cement-block legs to move, trying to process the gut-wrenching, straight out of tv moment that had just unfolded in front of her eyes.

the first few silent tears began to fall, and when she walked past charles leclerc, who grabbed her by the arm and asked if she was okay, the monegasque driver's voice sounding like it was miles away, she woke up.

and she let out the first heart-breaking sob as she collapsed against charles' side, still unable to find the words.

how was she supposed to explain that she had just watched the love of her life almost lose his.

"i love him!" she coughed out, struggling to stand on her own two feet as charles gripped her arms, trying to avoid making a scene. "can you take me to see him, charles? i need to see guanyu."

if charles was fazed by how shaken up his former team principal's daughter was, he didn't show it as he guided her towards the medical bay, allowing the french girl to compose herself before going inside.

her face was red and puffy, and it was clear as day to all inside the room that she had been sobbing just moments before. she waved wearily at alex albon, who flashed her a look of discomfort along with a subtle raise of the hand as one of the nurses conducted an ultrasound on his wrist.

she quietly asked one of the nurses where her lover was before slipping behind the thin plastic sheet keeping zhou's condition private from the rest of the wards.

"you scared me, jackass." she tried to smile, voice shaky as she tried not to cry. "i'm glad that you're okay."

"oh, bao bei." zhou's voice wavered. "come here. i'm so sorry for scaring you, but i'm fine, see?"

shaking her head, y/n slipped onto the hospital bed next to zhou, gingerly wrapping her arms around him before pressing a single kiss to the side of his head, balaclava lines still visible on his face. "please, never do that to me again."

"i'm not going anywhere, angel face." he sighed, turning his head to kiss her. "i was so scared. i genuinely thought i wasn't going to be able to get out of that car. if it wasn't for george..."

"i know, honey." y/n sighed, resting her forehead against his as a tear began to fall down her face, following the tracks of the many salty emotions that had spilled over before it. "i love you." she whispered, her lips ghosting over her boyfriends skin as she curled into his side.

the plastic curtain slid open again, and fred vasseur jokingly knocked on the wall before making his way inside. if he was at all shocked at the sight of his driver and his daughter curled up in the hospital bed, he didn't show it.

fred had been beginning to suspect something was up in his daughter's love life for a few months now. but if this breif moment in time was confirming anything at all in his mind, he chose to keep it to himself.

"hey, champ. that's one hell of a recovery you've made."

and the time that fred vasseur walked in on a very compromising situation.

the moon was high as fred vasseur steered the alfa romeo into his daughter's driveway. the team had just had a sponsorship meeting, a gala if you will, and y/n and zhou had decided that it would just bea easier for zhou to just leave his car outside y/n's flat.

of course, what fred didn't need to know was that zhou guanyu had just spent the weekend at his daughter's flat, and had really all but moved in with her.

"thanks for the ride, dad. i'll call you in the morning." y/n said, leaning over the console to kiss her father on the cheek before opening the passenger side door and slipping out of the luxury vehicle.

behind her, zhou slipped almost ghost-like out of the backseat, waiting for frederic to reverse out of the driveway before he allowed himself to slip his arm around his girlfriend's waist, the couple turning to walk up the cobblestone drive to y/n's front door.

as soon as the front door was closed and they were certain that they wouldn't get caught, y/n slipped out of her leather jacket, spinning barefoot in the front hall so the shimmery black fabric of her gown swirled around her legs.

this was a different dress than the one she normally wore to such an event. she decided to change things up this far into the season. and it helped that her boyfriend was sponsored by dior and prada.

"i'm not going to lie," she hummed, reaching for zhou's collar and undoing the first few buttons on the white silk shirt she wore underneath his suit jacket. "it's been very hard to keep my hands off of you tonight. you look very sexy in a suit, my love."

zhou smiled, sliding his hands gently over his girlfriend's waist. "well, clearly you are the only one who had that problem."

"yeah, what were you thinking with that under-the-table stuff?" y/n giggled, playfully smacking zhou's chest. "i thought for sure that dad would realize something was up."

"i was barely touching you." zhou laughed, "my hand was literally just on your thigh."

"yeah, under my dress!" she smiled, pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. "i love you, zhou guanyu."

"love you more, y/n vasseur."

they kissed softly in the front hall, both parties finding it increasingly difficult to keep the kisses gentle and sweet as hands began to grip tender flesh tighter, hands fumbling with buttons on shirts, sliding up slits in dresses. teeth nipping at lips, tongues brushing up against each other, sharp gasps escaping throats.

zhou's suit jacket fell to the floor, his shirt hanging limply off his frame without the buttons to hold it closed, his lover's hands roaming his warm, soft skin as his lips dipped down to kiss her neck, backing her up against the kitchen island.

"zhou, honey," she breathed, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked a hickey into her collarbone. "i'm not wearing a bra."

zhou paused, drawing away from y/n's neck to look her in the eyes, a cheeky grin on his face as he brushed her hair behind her ear. "just when i thought you couldn't get any sexier."

he kissed her again, hungry and full of passion as his hand slinked around her back to undo the ties holding her dress together, watching the straps slip down her shoulders and reveal her perfect, beautiful breasts.

"you're the most beautiful woman i have ever met." he mumbled huskily, kissing her again as her hands wrapped around his biceps, his hands moving to grope her chest, feeling himself getting harder with every breathy whine she let out.

switching his focus to her neck, he slipped his hands underneath the glittery lace of her dress, teasing his fingers along the outline of her lacy panties.

"guanyu," she whined, voice shaky and desperate, bucking her hips against his slender, nimble fingers. "i need you so badly. i need you to fuck me."

"i've got you, bao bei." he hummed, kissing her forehead sweetly before tugging at the waistband of her panties, doing his best not to rip them but simultaneously not caring if he tore them in half.

the skimpy fabric fell to the floor, y/n's hands flying to the fabric covering her lover's very obvious hard-on. she undid the button holding his slacks together, slipping her hand into his boxers before palming his cock and guiding it towards the center of her spread legs.

he sunk inside of her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she cursed in french, the end of the curse pitching into a moan as he began to thrust inside her, a deep groan leaving his own throat

"fuck, just like that, baby." she whined, throwing her head back as her fingernails dug into his shoulders, his cock sliding in and out of her dripping core, each thrust sending shockwaves through her body.

"y/n?" a heavily accented voice called from the front hallway, followed shortly by the front door swinging shut. "you left your purse in my- holy mary mother of christ!"

"dad!? what the fuck?" y/n screamed, jumping off the counter and scrambling to right her dress as zhou hastily does up the zipper on his slacks, turning his back to his team principal. "you can't just barge into my flat!"

"you left the door unlocked!" fred vassuer moaned, his eyes still closed. "can i open my eyes yet? are you both decent?"

"uhh, i think so?" she said hesitantly, panic flaring in her bones as she scrambled to kick her discarded panties behind the island and out of sight. "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"you left your purse in my car." fred glared, passing his daughter the small dooney and bourke handbag. "i've known somethignw as up since silverstone, but seriously? on the kitchen island? you guys haven't been home half an hour yet!"

"i'm so sorry, sir." zhou pleaded, reaching for his girlfriend's hand. "we never meant for it to be like this. we were going to tell you once the season was over."

"were you at least using protection? or not, i mean, i'd like to become a grandfather before i die."

"dad!" y/n scolded. "can we talk about this another time, please?"

"i am so taking that ferrari job."

Tags:

@sidcrosbyspuck @magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @daydreamingleclerc @scuderiamh @estevries

#zhou guanyu x y/n #zhou guanyu x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lovelytsunodas katy perry series

709 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 2 years

Text

ghosting you

Pairing: real estate agent Na Jaemin x entrepreneur female!reader ft. nct various nct cameos

Word count: 27.1k

Summary: You met Jaemin about a year ago. After a night full of adventures, he promised to give you a call. He did not. Sometimes universe gifts second chances, but you didn’t really expect to meet again with him. Especially not when you decided to go to the countryside to flip the haunted house that you recently inherited.

A/N those who get it, get it; those who don’t, don’t 😇😇 you know what to do ✨ heart, comment, reblog, anon, or/and support me

Jaemin groaned for the hundredth time when the engine again in his recently downgraded car died. “What a piece of shit,” he cursed as he hit the steering wheel in frustration, praying for the vehicle to start again. He was in the middle of nowhere, and according to the navigation system on his phone, he was about fifteen minutes away from his destination.

After a few attempts, the engine roared back to life, and Jaemin maneuvered through the dirt road. His phone started to ring when Jaemin reached a crossroads. Quickly, Jaemin looked at the device before he slid his finger across the screen to pick up the incoming call from Jeno.

“What do you want? I’m kinda busy right now,” Jaemin barked as soon as he switched to the speaker mode and changed the tab back to the navigation app.

“Just checking up on you,” Jeno softly spoke, unable to mask concern for his best friend. “How are you holding up?” he asked, and Jaemin bit his bottom lip in deep thought.

How was he holding up?

Not good.

Was he going to have a heart-to-heart talk with Jeno about it, though? Absolutely not.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin said, trying to brush his friend off. Focusing on the road, Jaemin lighted up the blinker and turned left, ignoring Jeno’s perturbed sigh. “I mean it. I’m the best estate agent at the firm. I’ll sell this hideous house and be back in no time.”

“Of course, you will. You’d sell a comb to a bald man,” Jeno stated, and Jaemin hummed, having no doubts in his marketing skills. Everybody knew Jaemin was the best. It wasn’t fair that one tiny mishap cost him the title of employee-of-the-month, which he managed to preserve for six consecutive months.

Anyhow, Jaemin knew he could bounce right back to the top.

As punishment for his foolish mistake, Jaemin was given a special assignment. If he ever wanted to return to working on the high-end apartment market, he had to sell what other estate agents called the unsellable house.

The estate was on the market for over ten years, yet no one had even rung the agency to check it out. The mansion was in the middle of nowhere, and frankly, the terrible location was the least of Jaemin’s worries. It was enormous, ugly, expensive to maintain, difficult to commute, and supposedly haunted. It was every real estate agent’s nightmare, but now, because of one reckless decision, it became Jaemin’s reality.

His situation was all around bad. There was no way in hell he would be able to sell it. Jaemin had talent, but it wasn’t enough to persuade someone to actually purchase it. If anything, he needed a miracle.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later,” Jaemin hung up as soon as he pulled up on the driveway in front of the mansion. His jaw was ajar when he leaned forward to look through the windshield. The pictures didn’t do it justice – it was way worse.

With a sigh, Jaemin got out of the vehicle, leaving all of his belongings in the backseat. At first, he’d look around the house for any silver linings. His new work situation couldn’t be as bad as other agents were making it out to be.

Tentatively, Jaemin strutted toward the house, hoping it looked the same as in the advertisement on the agency website. The last thing he wished to discover was some mold or any other type of water damage. Nobody was interested in the residence as of now, and another obstacle was going to give him a migraine.

The moment Jaemin set foot on the porch, the wood creaked under his weight, and the doors slightly opened, startling him. “Shit,” he cursed, taking a cautious step back. It was strange, but there’s got to be a logical explanation.

Jaemin craned his head, trying to peek inside.

The building was old and a bit run-down, but it definitely wasn’t haunted. Even if Jaemin thought he saw something paranormal, it must’ve been his mind projecting weird stuff. He definitely watched too many horror films.

“Get a grip,” Jaemin muttered, readjusting his suit jacket before he approached the front door again, pushing the doors open. Not a single malevolent spirit jumped out on him, so it was safe to assume the place wasn’t haunted as other estate agents liked to joke around.

It was dark inside, and it reeked of dust. Jaemin couldn’t smell nor see any mold, which was a good sign. Immediately, he sighed in relief, glad there was a silver lining to his predicament.

Jaemin did a quick tour around the ground floor. The rooms were of a decent size. It was a shame there wasn’t an open floor plan, but the building was almost one hundred years old – he didn’t have high expectations about it. At least the ceilings were high. Regardless of how much clutter was around, it didn’t feel cramped.

Traditional houses were getting more and more popular. With proper marketing and a little bit of renovating, Jaemin could get people to bid for it. The building, despite its ominous reputation, had potential. Jaemin was confident he could find a buyer who would appreciate it.

The second Jaemin left the kitchen and entered the dining room, he heard a bizarre noise. It sounded as if someone had dropped something onto the floor in the basement.

“Not this,” Jaemin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. Quickly, he concluded that there must’ve been some kind of trespassing. It was a common practice for homeless people to inhabit seemingly abandoned buildings. “Can this day get any worse?” Jaemin muttered as he whipped out his phone, turning on the flashlight.

With a calculated strength, Jaemin kicked the basement doors open.

“Whoever is down there, come out! It’s private property! You have five minutes, or I’m calling the police!” Jaemin hollered, staring at the stairs, seeing only thick dust flying into the stream of light. When his voice echoed against basement walls, Jaemin heard a loud noise of a chair being dragged across the concrete floor.

Although Jaemin didn’t feel particularly scared, the screeching gave him goosebumps.

He had no idea how many people were hiding in the basement. The upcoming confrontation with them made him a bit anxious, so he quickly typed the police number, ready to dial if the intruders were to be aggressive or uncooperative.

A few moments later, a person emerged from the shadows. Jaemin squinted his eyes, trying to make out the trespasser’s face – unfortunately, in vain. The person was blocking their eyes with their arm from the blinding light.

“What the fuck?” You cursed, trying to peek through your fingers at the moron at the top of the staircase. You swore you’d smack the flashlight out of his hands if he didn’t turn it off.

He wanted to call the police on you???

The audacity of this dude, really.

You were just minding your business in your house. You were well aware it was private property because it was YOURS. He was the one trespassing.

“Turn off the flashlight, idiot,” you shouted, but the man didn’t immediately react as you expected him to. The dazzling beam was still aimed at you, so you decided to fight fire with fire. It was petty, but you had to get the message across somehow.

You turned the flashlight on before you climbed up the stairs, staring at your feet in an attempt to protect your retinas from the throbbing brightness.

“Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?” You yelled as you switched off your flashlight simultaneously with the rude trespasser.

“Your house?” He asked in confusion, and you nodded your head. The man was just as confused as you were at this point. “I’m Na Jaemin. I work at the Dream real estate agency that handles the sale of this property,” he introduced himself, and you narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you. He looked oddly familiar. Even his name seemed to ring a bell.

“Do I know you?” You tilted your head slightly to the side as you stared at his features, trying to remember when and where you had seen him. Prompted by your staring, Jaemin studied your visage, pondering over your questions.

For a while, you stared at each other in complete silence.

“Oh,” You chimed in as realization washed through you, making you giggle.

“Oh?” Jaemin asked in confusion, cocking his eyebrow up.

“You’re Jaemin,” you said, and Jaemin waited for your explanation since epiphany had yet to come to him. “You’ve changed your hair. It looks good on you,” you noted as the memories were coming back to you. In your opinion, dark hair suited him better, but Jaemin still looked handsome regardless of his hair dye. “You really don’t remember me, huh? We spent one hell of a night together about a year ago,” you hinted, hoping for Jaemin to get the clue.

Now he realized why your name sounded familiar when he had flipped through the house files.

“Ah, it’s you?” Jaemin asked, unable to comprehend the situation.

“Yeah, I am the girl you ghosted,” you added, and Jaemin twisted his mouth in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head, searching for words to explain his actions.

A little over a year ago, you met Jaemin at a convenience store where you had a heated argument over a bottle of wine and a box of condoms. A few hours later, you bumped into him again. You were both drunk and brokenhearted. That eventful night, Jaemin caught his girlfriend cheating, and you got dumped via a text message on your first anniversary. Without any doubt, you spent one of the wildest nights of your life with him.

He was a memorable one-night stand to you, and it hurt your ego a little bit to know he couldn’t recall the events as vividly as you. You had plenty of fun bar-hopping, driving bumper cars, kissing in the rain, watching trash TV, and fucking.

Even though neither of you was ready to date again, you still hoped you could stay friends until you’d sort your shit out. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be an option, either.

“You said you’d call me, yet you never did,” you stated, and Jaemin cringed at his past douche antics. When he got up today, he had no idea he would have so much shit thrown his way. At first, it was job complications, and now he ran into you.

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me,” Jaemin apologized, and you shrugged, giggling.

“Don’t worry, I don’t hold a grudge,” you said, and Jaemin sighed, hoping that the awkward atmosphere would dissolve soon. “I was a little bummed out at first, but then we barely knew each other, so yeah, no hard feelings,” you added with a genuine smile.

“Why do I keep meeting you during my turning points in life?” Jaemin pondered, and you creased your forehead, trying to remember what he was referring to. Back then, you had witnessed him at his lowest; was he in trouble now?

“Hey, if your girlfriend broke up with you again, that’s entirely on you,” you jested, and Jaemin shook his head, trying to avoid miscommunication. You weren’t particularly good at comforting people. The best you could do was to crack a joke to loosen up the atmosphere. “Don’t put the blame on me,” you added, emphasizing there was no correlation.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I meant work,” Jaemin clarified, and you sighed in relief. “Also, turning points aren’t necessarily bad. I chose this house as my next project. From this moment onward, selling this house is my top priority,” he lied, trying his best to convince you it was why he was here right now.

As of now, Jaemin was too prideful to admit to his faults and own the truth.

“What?” You asked in confusion, seeing right through him. For the sake of his sanity, you decided to play along. “Why would you do that? Are you out of your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you seen this house? It’s in a rough shape… to put it nicely,” you trailed off as you looked around your property. “Also, it’s pretty haunted,” you added matter-of-factly, knowing it was what usually put people off.

“I don’t believe in paranormal,” Jaemin retorted with a proud smirk. You rolled your eyes at him, expecting this kind of response. He hadn’t spent as much time here as you had, so you figured you could excuse his skepticism. “There’s no such a thing as ghosts, demons, or tooth fairies.”

“You must’ve been a grumpy child,” you interjected, giggling at your remark.

“That’s not true. As a matter of fact, I was the sweetest child ever,” he confirmed with a proud smile. “Anyway, haunted or not, I can sell it. Don’t worry about it. You’ve got the best agent working on it.”

“Nice,” you said, your lips stretched out in an awkward smile as you were unsure how to react.

“So… are you living here? Not to sound rude, but the house doesn’t look like inhabited.”

“Well…” you started, unsure how to explain your current living situation. It was a bit complicated. “My best friend suggested I take a break from work, so I decided to come here and renovate my great grandma’s house. I just started cleaning up the basement yesterday.”

“Ah, I see,” Jaemin replied, nodding his head as he registered the new pieces of information.

“It’s funny how I have a renovation company, yet I only helped others. It’s the first time I’m using my skills to do something for myself,” you added, sensing it was appropriate to mention your profession now. You wouldn’t want to piss off the estate agent assigned to sell the property. It was a good thing he showed up – he should’ve been notified of all renovations that were going on.

Jaemin gulped as he now realized how your presence complicated his situation.

At this point, Jaemin was royally fucked.

***

The next day at down, Jaemin was already in front of your house with two cups of coffee in his hands. He was to make an offer. (It was kind of shameless.) However, if you agreed to hear him out, this arrangement could be beneficial for you both. Jaemin would have a roof under his head and eventually return to his old scope of estate market, and you would get rid of the house, selling it for a hefty sum.

A win-win situation.

Jaemin confidently knocked on the door, hoping you were awake. Waiting for you to answer the door, Jaemin turned around and looked at the trees’ crowns where the sun was ascending. It was a warm morning – ideal even for profitable cooperation propositions.

Jaemin had been thinking all night. He was in a lot of trouble, and everything that could go wrong, went wrong; out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Although he came up with an impromptu damage control protocol, it was useless without your consent. His career depended on this conversation with you, so he needed to do well. He’d use all of his charisma to pitch this idea to you. He’d use every trick to pull you on his side.

Jaemin was dressed to the nines. He looked professional, expensive, and handsome in his best purple suit, a no-collar white shirt, and a pair of shiny leather shoes. He even paid extra attention to his hair and musky cologne.

It was all or nothing at this point. Jaemin had nothing to lose, so he might as well put all his eggs in one basket. Worst case scenario, he’d live on Jeno’s couch and find a no-skill entry job.

“What are you doing here so early in the morning?” You asked as you pushed the doors open, yawning. You didn’t expect any visitors. Not at the asscrack of dawn, anyway.

“Can we talk?” Jaemin softly asked, staring into your eyes. “We could help each other out,” he mused, and you cocked your eyebrow, folding your arms across your chest. “I’m bringing gifts,” he added, flashing the cup of coffee and croissants in front of your eyes.

“You should’ve said so!” You exclaimed, eager to hear him out. You didn’t have breakfast yet. And you had been hungry since the evening. “Should we take it outside? The weather is nice. Why don’t we sit down in the garden? Follow me.”

You led him to the back of the house where the cozy gazebo was. It offered a fine open view of the overgrown rose garden. You hadn’t had time to do any gardening yet, but it still felt enjoyable to sit there.

“Here,” Jaemin said, sliding one coffee cup across the table in your direction.

“So… what did you want to talk about?” You started as you wrapped your fingers around the paper cup, giving it a stir before drinking. “What is this?!” You asked as you spit out the suspicious liquid on the ground, coughing for your life. “It tastes like dirt juice,” you complained, pushing the cup away.

“I must’ve mixed our drinks, sorry,” Jaemin apologized, quickly offering you his cup. “Dirt juice should be mine. I got you a regular latte. I hope that’s okay. The local café didn’t have many options to choose from.”

“That’s lovely. Thank you,” you smiled, taking a cautious sip of the other coffee, sighing in contentment, and enjoying your hot beverage. “So… what did you want to talk about? I’m all ears.”

Jaemin explained everything as if his life depended on it. In some sense, it did, but he was going to leave that part out. You didn’t need to know that. With passion, he presented all perks of his proposition, gesticulating frantically with his hands to get the point across.

“So, in conclusion, you want us to join forces to sell the house?” You summarized his presentation, pondering over every detail he disclosed.

It would be practical to have an extra pair of hands if you needed help. Jaemin also knew a lot about the estate market trends – probably even more than you. In times of doubt, you could ask him for a second opinion.

However, did you really want to sell the house? It was always in your family. Maybe it was haunted, but it was yours.

“It sounds way too good to be true,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee.

Did you have anything to lose? No. Jaemin offered himself to help you with anything. He’d be by your side throughout the whole renovation process. You could let him stay in one of many guest rooms for, as he eloquently put, 24/7 professional renovation help.

“What can I say? I’m really devoted to my job, and I like a good challenge,” Jaemin answered with a smirk, showing off his confidence in this project. “I realize the estate market isn’t in the best shape, but despite its creepy aura, we can fix it and have buyers fight for this house.”

At this point, you couldn’t tell if Jaemin was overly confident or just foolish. However, all risk factors were on Jaemin’s side – even if it was a scam, Jaemin would be the only one to suffer the consequences.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you tried to read him to detect any time of deceit. If there was a façade, your smoldering gaze didn’t crumble it. For all you could tell, Jaemin was telling the truth.

“It’s a deal,” you said, stretching your arm to shake on it. There was no tangible document for you to sign to formalize this agreement, so a solemn handshake would have to do the trick.

“Great,” Jaemin said with excitement in his tone, rubbing his hands together, ready for his first assignment. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well… I don’t have a set schedule,” you admitted, scratching the back of your head as you tried to collect all of your thoughts. “I arranged garbage pick-up for Friday, so I have to go through all the stuff in the basement and color-code what is trash and what is a precious antique. Do you mind helping me with that?”

“Not at all,” Jaemin beamed, ready to work his ass off for his success.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?” You asked Jaemin after you finished your breakfast. His suit looked expensive, and you didn’t want him to damage it. “It’s quite dusty in there.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jaemin answered, brushing your suggestion off. “So once again, I put the red sticker if something is junk, and the green one if something is valuable,” he added, and you nodded. It wasn’t that hard, but you appreciated that Jaemin wanted to double-check with you.

“Yep, and if you’re unsure, just ask,” you replied with a polite smile, stamping Jaemin’s forehead with a sticker. With Jaemin’s help, you could finish the deep cleaning phase twice as fast.

“Am I a red sticker or a green one?” Jaemin asked, twisting his face as if he could see what was on his forehead with his peripheral. “Please tell me I’m a green one,” he added as he pulled the sticker off his skin, rubbing off the glue residue. “You gotta be kidding me,” he whined upon seeing red.

“Honestly, you’d be yellow. I don’t have that type of sticker, though, so it’s red for the time being. I may change my mind later,” you teased, sending him a smug smirk. “Anyway… Let’s go,” you said, pushing the basement doors open. “Oh, and if you hear any chilling noises, just ignore them. It’s no big deal.”

“Old rusty pipes. Got it.”

“Actually, pipes are in surprisingly good shape. I checked them yesterday,” you proudly admitted. Though the house looked rough, the plumbing was in excellent condition. “The ghost is the problem here, but I learned it eventually stops bothering you if you don’t give them attention.”

“Huh?” Jaemin asked, alarmed. Urban legends were one thing, but having a person admit it to his face was an entirely different story. He didn’t peg you to be into supernatural stuff, yet there you were, warning him of the ghost residing on the premises.

“Whether you believe me or not, just ignore them,” you added before you turned around to walk downstairs to the basement. “Watch out on the third step. It needs extra support, and I haven’t had a chance to work on it yet.”

“Let’s get to work then,” Jaemin hollered in excitement as he joined you downstairs. A light bulb was hanging off the ceiling, but it wasn’t nearly enough to illuminate the entire space, so you used your phone’s flashlights to see more clearly.

You worked diligently on your side of the basement. Jaemin, on the other hand, had a lot of questions regarding every single item he picked up to inspect. First, he’d ask you which sticker he should use, followed by additional questions regarding the item’s history. Was it your childhood toy? Were your grandparents really using it? How did it get here? Does it have any family value to you? Is it authentic? Doesn’t look authentic to me. We could sell it on Ebay.

You appreciated the effort Jaemin was putting in, but overall, you didn’t work any faster.

“You know what. I think we should change things up. I’ll be putting stickers on stuff. You’ll be taking the junk outside. How does that sound?” You offered, trying your best to sound nice. The way you were working together wasn’t efficient at all, so you hoped this little changed improved your productivity. Besides, Jaemin could make use of his muscles.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jaemin replied, glad he was given a different task. You were calling the shots, and both parties were content with that work dynamic.

***

“How do you feel after your first day of work here?” You asked Jaemin as you both plopped on the couch in the living room after hard labor.

“Sore.”

“You’ll get used to it. I’m hungry. Do you want some pizza?” You offered as you pulled out your phone to check all delivery options. You knew there was one pizza place not that far away from here. Besides, you and Jaemin deserved a greasy treat after the busy day at work.

“I’d kill for a slice,” he admitted as he rubbed his thighs, hoping it would ease the pain. He couldn’t even remember how many times he went up and down the stairs at this point – his typical workout wasn’t nearly as intense as today’s labor. He felt sore in places he thought it was impossible to feel sore in, so ordering a pizza seemed like a highlight of the day.

You showed Jaemin the menu, and after a heated debate, you decided on toppings you both liked.

“It should be here in about 40 minutes,” you announced the news as you put your phone back into the back pocket of your sweats. “Do you want to go choose your room and freshen up before dinner?” You asked, staring at his suit, which was covered in dust, cobwebs, and whatnot. You had warned him – it was his fault he had brushed it off.

“Would be great. Just give me a minute to go and grab my stuff from the car,” Jaemin said, rushing through the front doors to return with a leather travel bag within a minute.

“This room is mine, so you can choose any except for this one,” you said as you stopped in the corridor upstairs. At first, the house looks spacious, but once you step inside, you can get overwhelmed by the number of rooms. The second floor alone accommodated seven bedrooms, a bathroom, and a study.

“Any is fine,” Jaemin said with a polite smile as he chose the room across from yours. “Thank you, you know… for letting me stay here,” he added, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as you gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“No problem. It’s more convenient this way,” you beamed, following behind him. “I know it’s pretty dusty here, but let’s clean after dinner. The bathroom is down the hall, ready to use. Clean towels are in the cabinet next to the sink,” you explained before you walked out, giving him some privacy.

Jaemin walked downstairs a moment after the pizza arrived. By that time, you managed to clean the coffee table, grab some beer, and put on some random reality show on your computer, which would provide you two with some background noise during dinner. Hopefully, Jaemin’s taste in trashy television didn’t change because you’d hate to look for something else when everything was ready.

“Come and sit,” you chimed in, patting the space on the couch next to you. “I heard beer is good for muscles after a workout. I hope you don’t mind that I assumed you’d like some.”

“No, no. Of course, not. I could definitely use some,” Jaemin smiled as he sat down and cracked the can open, gulping down the drink. “It never tasted so good,” he added, trying to remember the last time he enjoyed the bitter taste of alcohol this much. “Should we dig in?” Jaemin rubbed his hands, opening the pizza box, and since Jaemin was a guest, he waited for you to take the first slice before he’d do that himself.

Greasy pizza, cold beer, and stupid TV show after a day of hard work – was there anything more one could wish for? It felt awfully domestic, but none of you dared to give it a second thought. After all, there was nothing really domestic about your current arrangement, so you chose to ignore it.

“We should get someone to check the electricity at some point. It can be dangerous,” Jaemin commented as he reached for the second slide. The lights were flickering from time to time, and it bothered him.

“I checked the power circuit when I first came here earlier this week,” you answered, chewing on your greasy meal. “Everything’s fine with electricity. The lights are flickering because of the ghost. It’s such an attention seeker, I swear to God,” you added, and Jaemin looked at you funny. He didn’t appreciate the ghost talk, especially after he had explicitly told you paranormal beings didn’t exist.

“Not funny,” he chuckled dryly, reaching for his can of beer.

“You don’t believe me right now, but you’ll change your mind eventually,” you warned him, hoping he wouldn’t disrespect the ghosts with his obliviousness. “When I was a kid, I didn’t believe in ghosts either, but one summer, my parents left my brother and me here for the holidays. It really opened my eyes.”

“I bet there’s a logical explanation, like rusty installation or a damaged roof. We just have to figure it out and fix it,” Jaemin added, and you giggled, enjoying this kind of optimism laced with narrow-mindedness.

“Can you stop?!” You hollered at the top of your voice, staring at the flickering light bulb. You were ignoring the ghost, but enough was enough. “If you don’t stop flickering this light, I’m gonna need you to chip in! If you wanna keep playing with the light switch, contribute to the bills!”

The second you spoke your final words, the light bulb exploded, casting broken glass all over your food on the coffee table.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaemin asked as he jumped onto the couch and tried to cover his frame with a cushion as if it was to shield him from anything. Although Jaemin was still hesitant to believe in the supernatural, the timing between the end of your speech and the incident seemed way too off to be ruled out as a mere coincidence. If earlier he had been bothered, now he was terrified.

“Do you believe me now?” You asked and looked at Jaemin, who was too stunned to speak. It would be for the better if you let Jaemin rest for now. He saw more than enough today, and you figured he needed time to collect his thoughts and process what happened. “Just go and get some sleep; I need you well rested tomorrow.”

Although Jaemin would love to help you clean up after dinner, he chose to go to his room. In his current state of mind, he wouldn’t be much of a help anyway. Instead, he decided to make it up to you tomorrow.

Once Jaemin was in his room, he exhaled. What the fuck was that? How could he explain it with logic? Blaming it on ghosts was too easy. He needed to figure out the truth to discover and fix the problem about the house. How could he sell the property if there was a chance of light bulbs randomly exploding?

Get your shit together, Jaemin told himself as he looked at the clean set of sheets. It wasn’t his favorite house chore, but he didn’t want to sleep in a pile of dust. He had no other choice but to change them.

So many thoughts were running in his mind, and all of them seemed like white noise to him. Jaemin tried to focus on one thing and gave it some pondering but in vain. The gears in his brain were working so loud that he almost missed the strange scratching noise coming from behind the wall.

Having thrown the changed duvet on the mattress, Jaemin walked over the wall, gliding his hand across it as he tried to locate where exactly the noise was coming from.

“Very funny,” he chuckled, knocking on the wall with his fist, thinking you were just teasing him. He was rattled, and he didn’t find your relentless pranks funny.

The scratching got louder and creepier, and it was the last straw.

Having lost his patience, Jaemin threw the pillow onto the bed before storming out of his room. Without much thought, he grabbed the knob and tried to yank the doors open, but they wouldn’t budge. Cursing under his breath, he tried twisting, pulling, and pushing, but nothing seemed to work.

“Is there a problem?” You asked as you looked at Jaemin in worry. “Has something happened?”

Jaemin couldn’t voice his surprise. You were climbing up the stairs reading something on your phone. You couldn’t be on the other side of the doors, scratching the walls to give him the spook of his life.

“I heard weird scratching, and I thought it was you, but it obviously wasn’t,” Jaemin tried to explain, but judging by your worried expression, you must’ve thought he was crazy. “The doors are locked. Do you have a key? Someone must be there. Should I call the police?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said as you approached him. Without hesitation, you put your hand on the knob and opened the doors. “I’d say it’s just the ghost, but you wouldn’t believe me, so I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t understand,” Jaemin whispered as he scanned the room and didn’t see anything worth reporting to the police. Was he going crazy? Was it just his mind playing tricks on him? Or was it just exhaustion from stress and today’s labor? “I’m sleeping in your room tonight,” Jaemin announced, but before you could react and protest, he was already dragging the mattress on the floor over to your room.

With Jaemin’s mattress in your room, it was a tight squeeze. You had to jump around to make it to your bed.

“Are you happy now?” You asked, giggling. You found this situation hilarious. However, if Jaemin was too afraid to sleep in his room, you’d let him stay at yours until he got used to ghosts’ shenanigans.

The reason why you were so calm about that supernatural parasite, it’s because you had your childhood experience and trauma. You were a veteran, and Jaemin, the new guy on the premises, was the ghost’s victim of choice.

After Jaemin calmed down enough to get under the covers and try to fall asleep, another series of strange noises erupted downstairs. Instantly, he sat up and shook your arm. Jaemin needed you to confirm that the noise was real and prove that he wasn’t just hearing things.

“Is that a ghost too?” Jaemin asked, challenging you. There must’ve been something wrong with the way the house was constructed. Or some kind of malfunctioning features. Someone had to find it and get rid of it.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a ghost to you. You could differentiate several sounds the spirits produced to annoy you, and it wasn’t any of them. It was something much more dangerous – it must’ve been a human intruder.

“Jaemin, don’t panic. But I think it’s not a ghost, but trespassers,” you started, and Jaemin threw the duvet off his legs, doing the exact thing you told him not to do. “I’m gonna go downstairs and check who’s there,” you instructed as you walked over to the chest of drawers and grabbed an antique shotgun. (It was a broken replica, but it looked legit, so you hoped it was enough to scare off whoever decided to disturb your sleep and wander around the property.)

“Are you out of your mind? I’m coming with you,” Jaemin said as he mustered enough courage. He was a man, and he could be helpful. Even if he knew nothing about a hand-to-hand battle, he could dial an emergency number really fast.

“Fine with me,” you whispered, making your way to the doors, opening them as quietly as possible. “Turn on the flashlight on your phone,” you ordered Jaemin as he followed right behind you, practically breathing down at your neck.

With no sign of protest, Jaemin did as he was told, casting throbbing light on the stairs.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” You yelled the same exact words which you had shouted at Jaemin yesterday. Could people stop trespassing here? It was the second time in two days, and it began to seriously upset you. “Or else I’m gonna call the police!” You carried on, hoping your stern tone would intimidate whoever was roaming around the ground floor. (Despite your honest efforts, it would not intimidate anyone.)

In haste, you ran down the stairs. Jaemin was right behind you, ready to intervene in case of danger.

No one was in the foyer, but you still heard noises in the living room area. Quickly, you moved around, taking the intruders by surprise.

“Don’t move,” you shouted, raising the piece of rusty metal that a taken aback person might’ve mistaken for a legitimate weapon.

The pair who trespassed was shocked – they must’ve heard stories of the building being inhabited and taken a chance to sightsee at night. Too bad you and Jaemin ruined their plans.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin asked, blinding them with the flashlight like a professional cop.

Despite current high fashion trends, they didn’t seem to be homeless. You doubted they were looking for shelter. If anything, they were giving you a we-eloped-and-now-we-have-nowhere-to-go kind of vibe. Or maybe they were some type of amateur ghost hunters?

“He asked you a question,” you urged them, waving your gun in the air. The intruders seemed hesitant to give you answers, though. “Do as he says, or we’re calling the cops.”

For a short while, they started at each other in silence. The couple knew they were in trouble. Hopefully, the boy gave in. “I’m Felix, and this is my girlfriend, Gidae. We just wanted to see if it’s really haunted. We mean no harm,” he explained, but it wasn’t a valid excuse for trespassing.

You and Jaemin looked at each other as if you were wondering what to do about the situation. They broke the law, but nothing really happened; well… maybe, except for giving Jaemin a little scare. And that wasn’t something you’d take legal action against.

“The doors were opened, so we walked inside to see if there were any ghosts here. We’ve heard a story that ten years ago someone got so spooked their hair turned white,” the girl added, trying to justify their actions. You didn’t really care about their motive. The mention of unlocked doors alarmed you, though – especially when you remembered you had double-checked the locks before you went upstairs.

The silence filled the space as everyone one waited for your verdict. They did the wrong thing, and judging by their expressions, they learned their lesson not to trespass ever again.

“Get out,” you flatly said, lowering your weapon, pointing at the front doors as if they might’ve forgotten where the exit was.

The couple didn’t need to be told twice. As soon the last syllable rolled off your tongue, they bolted out of the house as if they were participating in a race.

“Well… that was an eventful day,” you said the second the doors shut behind them with a loud thud.

“Eventful is one way to put it,” Jaemin remarked as he exhaled, releasing the deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Come on, let’s go back to sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day,” you said as you locked the doors and made sure they stayed closed. “If you open the doors one more time, I’m calling ghostbusters on you,” you yelled at the ceiling, hoping the ghost got the message.

***

Jaemin’s a heavy sleeper, but under his current conditions, he stirred awake every time you moved in your sheets. Although he was still tired, he gave up on the idea of another nap. Maybe four hours of sleep in total and a few cups of coffee would be enough to get him through the day.

The house seemed quiet and peaceful. Actually, your calm breathing was the only thing he could hear. There was nothing to be afraid of. Though he didn’t have an explanation for yesterday’s events, they survived the night, so there was no grave danger he could stumble upon on the premises.

You, on the other hand, slept like a baby. The moment your head landed on the soft pillow, you were gone. It was about 9 o’clock (about two hours after Jaemin) when you got up. When you didn’t see him, your first thought was that he had fled. You couldn’t blame him if he did.

You found him downstairs, though. Jaemin was dressed in another fancy suit, taking pictures of the house with a fancy camera. “Look at you, you busy bee,” you chipped in, stretching your limbs. “Any plans for today?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Jaemin answered with a genuine smile, snapping a quick picture of you in your pajamas. “I had a revelation, actually,” he added, and you hummed, prompting him to reveal his plan. “I checked the listing on the agency website and figured it deserves an update. I can take some candid photos and upload them. And later, once the renovation is done, we can post some before and after photos. People love these.”

“That’s a great idea,” you were quick to say, praising him. Finally, after years of stasis, the renovation and proper sale steps were taken to get it in motion. “But it doesn’t explain your outfit,” you pinpointed, blatantly checking him out again.

“Oh, I am going to the city to finish some old paperwork at the office,” he simply said, following you to the kitchen, snapping some more photos, this time making sure you were out of the frame. “Plus, I need to take my stuff out of the apartment I used to rent.”

“When will you be back?” You asked, sensing that Jaemin wasn’t about to go into great details. You figured you didn’t need to know everything. After all, you weren’t friends. Business partners at best.

“Around dinner, I think,” Jaemin answered, smiling at you. “Should I pick up food on my way back? You got us pizza yesterday. What do you feel like having today, huh? It’s my treat.”

“Anything spicy should be fine,” you casually replied, not craving anything in particular.

“Duly noted,” Jaemin smiled, making a mental note to get you something delicious. After all, you were practically his savior. “And what exactly do you have planned for today, hm? I’m ready to get my hands dirty when I come back.”

“I wouldn’t call it plans, more like a loose idea, but I was thinking I could deep clean and check kitchen appliances. It would be nice to have options other than takeout,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Other than that, I’ll probably finish sorting stuff in the basement and change the light bulb in the living room. Nothing too crazy for today.”

“If you need anything, just call or text me; I’ll get it on my way back,” he added before he turned around to take his leave.

“Jaemin,” you hollered his name, and Jaemin spun around and looked at you again with a quiet hum. “I don’t have your phone number.”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry, my mistake,” Jaemin sheepishly smiled, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket to fish out his business card. “But seriously, tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, and now go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll return.”

***

“You know what, I have another great idea,” Jaemin started as he set his half-eaten burrito on the plate. “We should make videos of the renovation and post them online on TikTok or Instagram. We need good publicity, and people love flipping houses and progress videos. The shape of the estate market is not ideal, and it’s a cheap way to do some marketing. And if any of the videos goes viral, we can sell the house in no time.”

“It’s worth a shot,” you replied in between bites. “We can do that. I hope you have some specific ideas for the content. I suppose it’s not that easy to blow up.”

“Worst case scenario – we can turn this house into a tourist attraction, and you can charge them a fee for some ghost time,” Jaemin jested, and you giggled. Actually, it’s not that bad of a plan B.

“Ghosts aren’t real. I’m not a fraud,” you played along, rolling your eyes at Jaemin. It didn’t take him a lot of time to find a way to monetize a concept he didn’t believe in. “Anyway, finish up. We still have to take out trash from the basement and load the groceries into the fridge.”

After the delicious dinner, Jaemin washed the dishes before changing into more comfortable clothes to help you around the house. It was almost scary how quickly you and Jaemin worked out the most efficient routine to get things done.

“I ordered trash pickup for tomorrow morning. We need to take everything outside,” you announced, wondering if that would make Jaemin work harder.

“Don’t sweat it. I got this,” Jaemin proudly announced, getting strangely energized. He had a good feeling about this house. His motivation was through the roof. Nothing gave him a spook today, and it could be an indication that everything seemingly supernatural that had happened yesterday was just a figment of his stress-fueled imagination.

Before sunset, everything was ready for pickup. Groceries were put away, too. Jaemin even managed to record some videos to review later and decide if they’re social media-worthy. You still needed some sort of introduction video to summarize your renovation purpose. Nonetheless, it was good to record in advance.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Jaemin asked, ready for another task. “Or maybe we can do something that you planned for tomorrow? We could be ahead of schedule since day two. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“I need to change the light bulb, but I can do that myself.”

“Nonsense, let me handle that,” Jaemin excitedly offered, looking for the small box with the light bulb he bought at the supermarket.

“Actually, you need a permit to do that,” you pinpointed as you snatched the light bulb out of his hand. As a certified electrician, you just couldn’t let Jaemin climb the ladder and do that without proper training. “If you want to feel useful, hold the ladder. Who knows when the ghost decides to strike back?” You questioned, and Jaemin let out a few grumpy noises under his breath.

“I’ve been demoted to a ladder holder,” Jaemin said, carefully recording you. “Unbelievable.”

“Don’t worry. One day, I’ll promote you to a professional flashlight holder or even a screwdriver handler. There’s a lot of job prospects in this line of work,” you deadpanned, turning your head around to flash a polite smile at the camera. “Mark my words. You’ll make it big one day.”

“I don’t really appreciate your tone, but thank you nonetheless.”

***

A lot of things happened in a span of a week.

Jaemin uploaded a few videos, which didn’t blow up instantly. The clips got a decent amount of views considering it was a new account, but interaction with the content was scarce. And when people commented, they didn’t say anything about the house but rather about the banter you and Jaemin typically had going on. (Also, it wasn’t a surprise that the video of you changing the light bulb was the most watched one. All thanks to Jaemin’s great filmmaking skills. Your butt was taking at least half of a frame after all.)

As per renovation, you decided to do the mundane job of redecorating the bedrooms upstairs. One room at a time, you removed the furniture and deep-cleaned the space before proceeding with proper renovation. You had a heated debate with Jaemin about paints and wallpapers. Each option had pros and cons, and you ultimately decided to combine resources to create fascinating patterns and designs.

The ghost made its presence known pretty often, too. Since you were unbothered most of the time, Jaemin was on the receiving end of the ghost’s playful shenanigans. On several occasions, he heard a male voice calling his name from upstairs. Once or twice he saw a full-body apparition behind him in the fogged mirror. The temperature suddenly dropped a couple of times when he was showering. However, what scared him the most was the Ouija board – the same one he found in the basement after he had personally thrown it out.

Whether he believed in the supernatural or not, Jaemin had to do something because it wasn’t something he could deal with on a daily basis. Everyone had a tolerance limit, and Jaemin reached his. It was about time Jaemin got a second opinion on that matter.

“Who is this dude?” You leaned to the side to whisper into Jaemin’s ear, hoping he could tell you who that eccentric person on the threshold of your house was. Despite summer’s heat, your guest was wearing all black, including combat shoes and a leather knee-long coat. And he reeked of weed!

“Let me introduce myself,” he started off as put down his hefty suitcase on the floor and took off his hat, pressing it against his chest. “Nakamoto Yuta, the best medium in the country. Not my words, ‘Talking with ghosts’ issue 2, June 2016.” he bragged, taking a step forward to finish his introduction with a firm handshake.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked with a forced polite smile, having a nagging suspicion it was Jaemin who had invited him over for a house call. Not to be rude to a guest within his earshot, but you’d much appreciate it if Jaemin had run it through you first.

“My presence here was requested by this young gentleman, I presume,” Yuta explained, pointing at Jaemin. “Unlike the supernatural being that haunts this place. I feel something evil here. Has the entity displayed any violent tendencies?”

Naturally, you wanted to say no. Despite many ghost shenanigans happening inside the house, you never felt threatened. These B-class horror movie jump scares didn’t terrify you. After some time, they got repetitive even. However, you were planning to sell the house – the chances of the new owners being as unbothered and tolerant as you were slim. In the long run, getting rid of the ghost would be beneficial.

That being said, Yuta didn’t seem like a legitimate ghost buster. The only thing you expected to be gone after his visit was a few bills out of Jaemin’s pocket.

Yuta strolled around the house with his arms stretched out as he tried to pick up strange vibes. The strong smell of cannabis wafted into your nostrils when he walked past you.

“I think I made a connection,” Yuta announced, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I don’t think it’s a ghost. It’s something more powerful. I suspect a demonic entity. Are there any records of supernatural occurrences in this house?”

You needed no more evidence to know you were dealing with a fraud. However, instead of calling Yuta out on his bullshit, you decided to humor him and play along with this bizarre charade.

“It may not be easy to get rid of it as they often feed off negative energy,” Yuta explained, looking at you as if the demon was feasting on your skeptical attitude only. “Don’t worry, though. I’ve dealt with demons before. You’ve called the right guy for the job.”

“No doubt,” you sarcastically replied, and Jaemin pinched your shoulder. Funny how tables have turned – suddenly, you were the cynical one. “I mean… let the cleansing ritual begin,” you corrected yourself and beamed innocently at Jaemin in hopes he wouldn’t try to pinch you again.

You were no expert in exorcisms, but you’ve seen enough horror movies to know that Yuta was fucking with the two of you. He burned some sage, mumbled random noises, and danced around the house as if that was going to send this demon back to hell.

“Where the hell did you find him?” You leaned in to whisper into Jaemin’s ear, hoping you weren’t loud enough to disturb Yuta’s Oscar-worthy performance.

“Maybe I should’ve carefully read the reviews before I called him,” Jaemin admitted, questioning his choices. If Jaemin knew Yuta was a lunatic, he would’ve never contacted him.

“Don’t bring people like him here again, please,” you said, giggling under your breath. When you woke up in the morning, you didn’t expect to be put in such a hilarious situation.

“Be gone, you devil spawn,” Yuta hollered at the ceiling, his body shaking as if he got a seizure. Yuta continued his theatrics, and you decided not to interrupt. “This house has been cleansed,” Yuta said as he returned to his senses and started acting like a normal person.

“You’re incredible. I can already feel a difference,” you started off, your voice laced with sarcasm. If it wasn’t for Jaemin, who elbowed you to remind you to be nice, you’d start clapping in celebration.

“It’s my job. I just love helping people,” Yuta humbly said before he turned to Jaemin to announce how much he’s charging him for his peculiar services. The final sum Yuta requested made your and Jaemin’s jaws drop.

“You heard him,” you nudged Jaemin’s side, so he would pull out his wallet and pay up. “You can’t put a price tag on safety,” you added, batting your eyelashes innocently. Jaemin was mad at himself for getting so blatantly scammed. Your unnecessary comments were just adding oil to the fire.

“That’s what I always tell my customers. Better be safe than sorry, am I right?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, smiling at your guest. “We’re really thankful for your help,” you added, turning to Jaemin, who was counting bills, ready to hand over a fortune to the con man.

“Yeah, I have no idea what we would’ve done without you, dude,” Jaemin added, stretching his arm to pay for the service. Jaemin’s grip on the bills was tight as Yuta reached out to take them. You could see regret and reluctance in Jaemin’s demeanor.

“It was lovely doing business with you,” Yuta said with a playful smile as he pocketed his money. “I’ll take my leave now. I have to make it to the city to meet another client. As we say in this line of work – evil never sleeps. If you know what I mean.”

“Naturally,” you beamed at Yuta, hoping to never cross paths with him again.

“Oh, I would’ve forgotten,” Yuta interjected as he stopped at the threshold. “You seem like a cute couple. I also do mating rituals. You know… to help solidify passion and keep the flame burning.”

“Seriously?” You gasped in excitement as if you were actually considering it.

“Yeah, you have my number. Just give me a call when you make up your mind, so we can schedule an appointment,” Yuta carried on, foolishly thinking he just made regular customers to his peculiar services.

“Of course,” you added before Yuta sent you a goodbye smirk and left.

“Don’t utter a word,” Jaemin spat through gritted teeth when Yuta drove off. As per Jaemin’s request, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you started to laugh hysterically. “This guy was high, wasn’t he?” Jaemin inquired, laughing as it finally dawned on him how ridiculous this house call was.

“As high as a kite,” you confirmed, unable to stop cackling.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“I wouldn’t be myself if I did, would I?”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be absurd. No one hates me.”

***

Thankfully, you were merciful and didn’t mention the Yuta fiasco that often. It wasn’t Jaemin’s proudest moment, and he was glad that you decided not to bring it up, so he could pretend it never happened.

Today, it was time to renovate the very last bedroom upstairs.

While you were already there, rummaging through all the things in the bedroom, Jaemin was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He’d join you in a minute.

Or five.

Jaemin’s phone went off as Jeno’s name flashed on the screen, notifying him about the incoming call. It’s been a while since they talked, so Jaemin figured it wouldn’t to be a short chit-chat.

Spitting into the sink, Jaemin answered the call, casually greeting his friend.

“Hello? Is that all I’m gonna get?” Jeno scoffed, acting offended. After Jaemin’s accident at work, they barely talked. It was really unlike Jaemin to neglect his best friend like that, so Jeno grew worried. “It’s really difficult to get hold of you these days. You don’t call. You don’t text. Damn it, Jaemin. You don’t even read messages in our group chat. We’ve all been worried. How are you?”

Jaemin felt terrible. He was busting his ass off to help you renovate the house, and at the end of the day, he was usually too spent to even check his phone. His friends deserved much more, so he made a mental note to update him every few days.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” Jaemin simply answered, not knowing how to brief Jeno on his current whereabouts.

“That’s it? Come on, Jaem. You can do better than that,” Jeno egged on, stomping his foot, waiting for a proper explanation. “What’s going on?”

Jaemin sighed, wiping the condensation off the mirror with his hand. Although he didn’t pay full attention, he saw a ghostly figure in the reflection. “Fuck,” Jaemin cursed as he turned around only to see the apparition was gone.

Typical ghost behavior.

As crazy as it may sound, Jaemin was already used to these unfunny shenanigans. An inexperienced person might’ve got a heart attack, but Jaemin only gasped and muttered a few curses.

“What’s going on?” Jeno repeated, growing more and more concerned.

“That? Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Jaemin quickly replied, hoping his words could calm down Jeno. Unfortunately, Jeno was still upset with Jaemin. “You’re not gonna believe what happened,” Jaemin chuckled dryly, knowing Jeno wouldn’t let go unless provided with the full story.

“Try me.”

While Jeno knew why Jaemin moved out to the countryside, he had no idea what happened next.

“It’s a funny story actually,” Jaemin started, scratching his temple, trying to sound anxious. “It may sound crazy, but I found her. She’s here.”

“Who?” Jeno asked, having no clue what Jaemin was getting at.

“Her,” Jaemin stressed, looking over his shoulders, making sure you were out of earshot. “You know… her. The one who got away.”

“Oh… You mean, the one you let go,” he corrected him. Jeno vaguely remembered Jaemin’s story about the girl he had met a year ago – you. There was something so unreal about the way Jaemin was talking about you, his friends assumed Jaemin must’ve dreamt you. After all, he was drunk as a skunk most of that night.

“Semantics,” Jaemin remarked, shrugging. “Anyway, this house… is hers. What a coincidence, right?”

“One might call it destiny,” Jeno suggested, and Jaemin snorted as he didn’t want Jeno’s words to get into his head. “So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time, huh. Your friends are worried sick about you, but all you’ve been doing is playing house with your old time crush. Good job, Jaemin.”

“You sound like Hyuck,” Jaemin pointed out, rolling his eyes. Jeno was exaggerating. “And I’m not playing house with her,” he admitted, though Jeno faultlessly identified Jaemin’s saddened tone.

Jaemin wished it was the case.

Jeno sensed it was a sensitive subject for Jaemin to talk about, so he decided not to twist the knife in his wound. Jaemin knew what he was doing, and if he ever needed love advice, he would call Jeno in a heartbeat.

“Anyway…” Jaemin cleared his throat, hating the awkward silence that took over the conversation. “I gotta go, but I’ll try to be more active. Sorry for making you guys so worried.”

“Sure, we’re there for you, Jaem.”

***

The unoccupied upstairs bedroom had been renovated, so it was finally time to start working on the kitchen. You were looking forward to this one as it’s undoubtedly the core of every house. However, when a stabbing pain in your stomach jolted you awake at dawn, you knew you wouldn’t get any job done. On the first day of your period, you often preferred to take things slow and easy.

Despite having more than half a dozen freshly renovated bedrooms to choose from, Jaemin didn’t move his mattress out of yours. The ghost was still very much present despite Yuta’s cleansing ritual, and Jaemin wasn’t mentally ready to sleep alone. Whenever you asked him if he’d like to switch rooms, he gave you an unamused glare followed by dramatic questions such as “do you really want to find me dead in the morning? I am not taking that risk.”.

Carefully, you slipped out of your bed, making sure not to wake him up.

You had a sudden craving for watermelon lemonade, so after washing up, you took a stroll to the farmer market. Thankfully, you had no problem finding the fruit.

On your way back, you stepped into a local coffee shop where you picked up a scoop of watermelon sorbet for you and a cup of extra strong earth juice for Jaemin.

“You should’ve left me a note that you’re leaving or given me a text. I started to worry. I thought the ghost evaporated you into thin air,” Jaemin hollered as he bolted out of the house on the patio when he saw your figure nearing the estate. “Or even worse, it could’ve taken the chance and zapped me!”

Jaemin was a mess when he was left alone with the ghost, especially before his morning coffee. With a genuine smile, you handed him the cup as a token of apology.

“So… what are we going to do today?” Jaemin asked after a few sips of his drink.

“Have some watermelon lemonade, and chill,” you casually said, walking inside. At first, you would rest in the living room for a while then prepare your delicious drink. “I don’t feel like doing anything today.”

You acted out of your character, and Jaemin instantly picked up on it. However, regardless of the reason behind your odd behavior, he decided not to question it. After all, you had been busting your asses off, so it wasn’t that bad of an idea to laze around.

So you did.

Having put on a crime TV show to play in the background, you were slouched in the armchair. At first, you didn’t pay much attention to it as you replied to multiple group chats you were a part of. However, you got sucked into the plotline of that murder mystery, trying to connect the dots and figure out who the murderer is before the police.

Jaemin was lying on the couch beside you, reading a newspaper, sporting that look of a middle-aged dad on a Sunday morning in the 1950s.

“We’ve been working so hard it feels strange to sit around and do nothing,” Jaemin commented after he finished reading and tossed the newspaper on the coffee table. “I almost feel guilty.”

“We deserve it. We’ve done so much good work,” you replied with a sigh. You and Jaemin had already done about fifty percent of the needed work. If you could keep up the tempo and not stumble upon any hindrance, you’d finish before the end of summer.

“Speaking of which, we get more and more recognition on social media,” Jaemin announced, and you hummed, glad people were interested in the property. “Your butt is still the star of the show, but we got some suggestions and advice. It’s a good sign that people engage in the renovation process.”

“I mean… I don’t blame them. My ass is amazing.”

Knock! Knock!

“Do you expect any guests?” Jaemin asked as the both of you turned your heads, staring at the front doors. Puzzled, you shook your head. “Me neither.”

“I wonder who that is. Maybe it’s Yuta to perform the other part of the ritual.”

“Very funny,” Jaemin said dryly, jumping to his feet. “I’ll get that,” he volunteered, and you propped on your elbows, watching the front door from your armchair.

Jaemin unlocked the doors and pulled them open, revealing Kun on the other side. To say your jaw dropped when you saw him was an understatement. Maybe he wasn’t the last person you expected to see, but he was definitely the least welcomed one on your property.

Having been cheated on by Lucas and ghosted by Jaemin, you put a halt to dating. But you still a whole lot of condoms at your apartment and plenty of sexual frustration to let go of, so you worked out an agreement with Kun to become exclusive fuck buddies.

You were content with that type of relationship. However, it came to an abrupt stop when you found out Kun failed to disclose one crucial detail about his relationship status. Thankfully, you didn’t catch any romantic feelings for him, or else it could’ve taken a serious toll on you. Your relationship with him was strictly physical, so when you discovered how much of a scumbag Kun actually was, you just cut ties with him.

Needless to say, Kun didn’t take it well. And once in a while, he’d bug you to reconcile.

Although you didn’t speak to your guest yet, Jaemin could sense the tension between you and Kun. He didn’t know the context, but he had no trouble reading your body language – you wanted the man gone.

“Can I talk to her?” Kun asked, tilting his head in your direction. Jaemin turned his head, too, trying to tell if you were comfortable enough to fulfill the male’s request. “Alone,” he added, giving Jaemin a quick once-over.

“No, you cannot,” you answered, offering him a fake beam. “We have nothing to talk about,” you carried on, trying your best to sound firm. You almost forgot that you ever hooked up with him. You didn’t miss him nor feel a need for him to come back.

Your life’s good without him in it.

Unfortunately, Kun didn’t come all the way here to let you reject him.

“Come on, don’t be childish. Let’s talk. I saw an Italian restaurant on the way here. Let’s talk there.”

“She said no,” Jaemin interjected, reminding Kun that you had no intention to comply with his request. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, so why don’t you take your leave.”

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” Kun said, glaring at Jaemin, not appreciating his input into the conversation. “Just let me talk to her alone. Come on, baby, don’t make me wait,” Kun demanded, and Jaemin clenched his fists, visibly annoyed. Jaemin got the ick upon hearing the pet name Kun used to refer to you. He wasn’t sure why he felt particularly provoked now, but he decided not to give it a second thought.

Enough was enough.

“Beat it, Kun,” you hissed, wishing for him to evaporate. You concluded that if you manifested it hard enough, it could happen. “I called it quits months ago,” you added, but you could tell it wasn’t enough to stop Kun. “Besides, I’m dating Jaemin now. We’re crazy in love, and we even live together now. And, as a matter of fact, we were about to fuck like rabbits on this very couch before you decided to cockblock us.”

Jaemin’s eyes were out of their sockets as much as Kun’s when he heard you. The men were too stunned to speak.

“That being said, I think you should leave,” you added as you approached Jaemin and grabbed his hand, leaning against his shoulder. “We don’t feel like being watched today.”

Jaemin was holding his breath, thinking Kun could call your bluff if he said anything. You wanted Kun to leave, and your bold statements seemed to be working in your favor, so Jaemin decided to stand by your side, ready to step in if you needed him to. However, you were doing great by yourself.

Kun wanted to say something. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he thought of the right thing to say to convince him to go with him. You belonged to a different man, and it complicated your situation. Though unwillingly, Kun realized he had lost. He was too late.

Without a proper goodbye, Kun turned around and stormed out. Smirking in victory, you left Jaemin’s side to close the doors behind the uninvited guest.

“What just happened?” Jaemin asked, still standing in the same place as if his feet were glued to the floor. When you didn’t reply, Jaemin carried on. “So… that’s who you dated before. He seems nice.”

“Have you noticed how he didn’t want to let go just because I said no? He only stepped back after I told him I was dating you. Isn’t it terrible?” You wondered out loud, ignoring Jaemin’s question. “I need that lemonade now,” you added, marching off to the kitchen.

Quickly, you picked up a knife, ready to chop the fruit into little cubes. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell you were angry and frustrated. In this state of mind, it was for the better to supervise you in the kitchen, so Jaemin followed behind you.

“Take it easy on that watermelon,” Jaemin commented, letting you know he was watching. “Maybe I’ll operate the knife,” he suggested as he placed his hand over yours. “I don’t need certification for that now, do I?” He teased, bumping his hip into yours, pushing you away from the counter. “Hand it over. I’d rather do it myself than have to drive you to the ER. You need a complete set of fingers to finish the renovation. There’s still so much stuff to do…”

“You’re right,” you gave in, handing him the knife. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

Skillfully, Jaemin cut the watermelon into pieces and put them into a blender. “You know… if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Jaemin offered as he reached for a colander and a pitcher. Expertly, Jaemin transferred the liquid into the pitcher and moved around to squeeze some lemon juice.

You remembered the first time you confided in Jaemin. It was over a year ago, and it was so easy to talk to him. He was a complete stranger, and you just dumped your relationship trauma on him, not expecting to see him again. And he did the same thing.

Now, you were friends. You felt comfortable talking to Jaemin. He was a good listener and was always invested in whatever you were complaining about. He even volunteered. (As if he had a choice… you were living together, and there was not a corner in the house where Jaemin could escape from the vicinity of your voice.)

“You forgot about the most important ingredient,” you remarked as you walked to the cabinet and pulled out a half-full bottle of vodka. Drinking wasn’t on your to-do list for today, but given the circumstances, a little bit of alcohol was justified. After all, it was your day off.

“I don’t think I did, but you do you,” Jaemin said as he stepped to the side, letting you spike the lemonade. Carefully, you tipped the bottle, pouring vodka into a pitcher, giving it a quick stir.

“Let’s enjoy our drink outside. What do you think?” You asked, and Jaemin hummed with a smile. You didn’t spend much time in the gazebo during the renovation, but it was a perfect spot for relaxation. No doubt the lemonade would taste extra refreshing there in current weather conditions.

You poured the drink into the cups. The watermelon lemon combo tasted incredible laced with vodka. It was a beautiful day to enjoy an alcohol-induced drink and spill the tea on your so-called relationship with Kun. Although you had already processed the end of it, Kun’s presence angered you, and now you hoped that venting would calm you down.

So you did.

You told Jaemin everything, and he listened attentively. He was really glad you decided to share that part of your past with him. After all, Jaemin had caught himself thinking about you a couple of times in the past, wondering what you were up to after he ghosted you. It goes without saying, but his thoughts were quite regretful.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s a dick,” Jaemin interjected, getting a little bit agitated after hearing you out. “I mean… what was he thinking? He’s just so… despicable,” he carried on, trying to grasp the entire situation. Kun’s a pilot. He’s often out of town, but it doesn’t make it right for him to cheat on his fiancée. He’s got no regard for the one he’s about to wed nor you. It was really shitty of him to treat you like that, and Jaemin had none of that.

“I don’t have much luck with guys,” you sighed. Lucas was first – he broke up with you on your one year anniversary over a mere text message. Then, it was Jaemin who ghosted you after an adventurous escapade. And lastly, there was Kun, who cheated on his fiancée with you.

“No luck here, either,” Jaemin shrugged, pouring you another round of spiked lemonade. Whether it was your honesty or the vodka, Jaemin felt prompted to share his past too.

After the night with you, Jaemin really wanted to call you and meet again. Though it was too soon to start dating, he knew you could start off as friends and easily transition into a real romantic relationship when the time was right. Too bad he chickened out back then. It was a turning point for him – his love life after the encounter with your went downhill.

Jaemin dipped his toe back into the dating pool a couple of times, but it was never anything serious. Despite his earnest efforts, his flings eventually ended after a few dates. His latest conquest got him in a lot of trouble, though.

They never discussed labels yet, but it was the closest thing to a relationship Jaemin had in over a year. She was hot and so into him, he didn’t think straight when he was with her. And that made him do plenty of stupid things – like having sex in one of the high-end for-sale condos, for example. Too bad his boss walked on them with one of the biggest clients.

“You did what?” You asked, bursting out laughing. “I mean, I am sorry that happened to you,” you corrected yourself, still giggling under your breath. “That’s terrible but hilarious at the same time.”

“Yeah, please, go ahead, laugh at my misery,” Jaemin sighed, pouring lemonade down his throat. “Anyway, it didn’t get me fired. My boss assigned me to sell this house. As long as this estate is on the market, he doesn’t want to see me in the office.”

“Oof.”

“Yes, oof.”

“I’m aware how difficult it can be, but don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. Together.”

“Thank you.” Jaemin sent a contagious smile your way, and you instantly mirrored his action. There was certain softness to the way he was looking at you, and it made you all giddy inside.

***

When you walked down the stairs that Saturday morning, Jaemin was blown away. His jaw dropped as he shamelessly stared at you in admiration. Your beauty captured his attention. It was proper to compliment you, but his mind went completely blank.

Jaemin got instant flashbacks. It was the second time he saw you all dressed up to the nines, and he liked the view in front of him. In fact, he liked it a lot. Though he thought you were beautiful in your casual outfits and a ponytail, you looked absolutely show-stopping now in your tight dress. Jaemin could tell you took your sweet time styling your hair and applying make-up.

Who did you doll up for?

Jaemin wondered as he felt bitter, knowing it wasn’t for him. Unfortunately, he knew all he ever was to you was a roommate. Maybe a friend on a good day. Despite a few playful bickers, a handful of suggestive remarks, and a couple of sexual innuendos, there was nothing substantial between you.

He just stood there in black Adidas slacks and a matching T-shirt, ready to start working on the living room. Though he never discussed it with you, it was the last room that needed an upgrade, and it was safe to assume you’d get it done today.

His assumption was incorrect, though.

“Someone’s looking fancy today,” Jaemin cleared his throat, giving you a feeble compliment, cursing at himself for such a poor choice of words. He should’ve said you looked breathtaking. Or, at least, hot. “I’m guessing you’re taking a day off.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” you replied with a polite smile. “I’ve got a few errands to run. And meet up with my friends later. I’ll be home late. Like 3 a.m. type of late.”

“What?” Jaemin asked, mortified. You couldn’t be serious. Although he got used to living with you and the ghost, he would never there stay alone. Jaemin witnessed cold spots and following shadows, but he wasn’t ready to face them on his own. You were Jaemin’s intermediary between supernatural and sanity, and he refused to spend a second in the house without you around.

“Don’t be dramatic. You’ll survive,” you smiled, giving Jaemin’s shoulder a supportive squeeze. Jaemin paid little to no attention to the ghost these days – he should be fine for a few hours.

“Just give me a few minutes,” he said, bolting upstairs 3 steps at a time. He’d rather stroll aimlessly around the city than spend a minute in the haunted house without you.

In record time, Jaemin changed into a semi-formal suit set and combed his hair.

“What? It’s the weekend. I have friends, too,” Jaemin defensively spoke as you checked him out.

“I don’t doubt that. They probably missed you. It’s nice to catch up,” you nodded, walking out of the house. “I’ll be drinking tonight, so I’ll take the train. You can take your car if you want,” you warned Jaemin as you didn’t want to inconvenience him.

At first, Jaemin wanted to offer himself to give you a ride. You wouldn’t even need to ask him to drive you back here – he’d gladly wait until ungodly morning hours for you if that meant you made home safely. However, if he was planning to meet up with Jeno, he would meet the other guys, too. The more, the merrier – as Jeno liked to quote. And if Donghyuck came, there was no way Jaemin would leave Jeno’s place sober.

“I think I’ll be drinking, too. We can both take the train,” Jaemin smiled, joining you by your side. “Just text me what time you want to return, so we can come back together.”

The train station was about a thirty-minute walk away. It was nice, but Jaemin felt… incomplete. Would his attitude change if he got to held your hand? No, he was getting ahead of himself. It didn’t matter because he didn’t want to incommode you.

“The last nighttime train leaves at 3:17 a.m..”

***

Jaemin was already waiting for you on the platform when you arrived. He was sat on a public bench, anxiously stomping his foot against the concrete. Although you still had almost fifteen minutes before train departure, Jaemin was worried that something had happened to you. Thankfully, the second you took a seat beside him, he could let out his breath.

“I’m honestly surprised. I didn’t expect you to be here,” you said, lacing your arm around Jaemin’s, resting your head against his shoulder. The alcohol must’ve put you in a really good mood.

“Why is that?” Jaemin asked, turning to look at you.

“I figured you’d return tomorrow morning,” you added with a shrug, not giving it much thought.

“Nonsense. You may be comfortable letting me stay there alone, but I am not. I’d never leave you there alone. Over my dead body,” Jaemin confessed. Jaemin’s care for your safety was truly touching. “I mean it.”

“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, squeezing his shoulder tighter. “Speaking of which, I got you something,” you added, showing him a see-through plastic container. “It’s a lactose-free peaches and cream cupcake. I know how much you like desserts, so when I saw it, I just had to get it for you. It looked nicer when I bought it, though.”

Brightly smiling at him, you handed him the container. The cream was slightly flat and smeared across the box, but Jaemin appreciated the gesture. You were thinking about him, and it made him quite giddy.

Wasting no time, Jaemin opened the box and took a bite. It was delicious – the peaches were sweet, the dough was spongy, and the cream was incredibly smooth.

“You want some? We can share,” Jaemin asked as he caught you licking your lips, your eyes fixated on the cupcake in his hands.

“Eat up; I already had two earlier today,” you kindly refused, letting him enjoy the sweet treat.

When Jaemin finished the cupcake and disposed of the container, the train arrived. You were about an hour away from your comfortable bed. You couldn’t wait to make it home.

“So… what did you do today?” You asked Jaemin as you two sat down in an empty compartment.

“Nothing special. I played games on a console with Jeno. When the other guys came, we ordered food and had some drinks. What about you? Did you have fun?”

“Plenty,” you quickly said, genuinely smiling. “At first, I met a few friends for brunch. I had an amazing panini. I have to recreate it at some point. You’re gonna love it.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Then I went to the office. My best friend, Renjun, has been supervising all of the ongoing projects, and I had to check up on him to see how he’s doing. If you ever see him, don’t tell him that, but I wouldn’t have done it as well as he did.”

“I will humble him down if I need to,” Jaemin replied, chuckling at you. Your friendship with Renjun seemed unique, and Jaemin would love to see your and Renjun’s interaction live.

“Heh, thanks,” you beamed at him, staring into Jaemin’s beautiful eyes. “Then I had dinner with my other friends. The main dish was okay, but the dessert was incredible, and it means a lot coming from me. I’m not big on desserts. But it was so good I needed to take something to go for you.”

“Should we order a cake from that place to celebrate when we sell the house?”

“We totally should!” You exclaimed, loving Jaemin’s idea. “Later, we went to a few fancy bars where the rest of my friends joined us. I’ve had so many drinks.”

“I can tell,” Jaemin playfully remarked, and you pouted.

“It was nice to catch up with my friends. You have no idea how much gossip I learnt tonight.”

Unprompted, you reported all of the newfound gossip to Jaemin, and as usual, he gave you his full attention. Although he didn’t know people you were talking about it, and your reportage was chaotic and had many plot holes, Jaemin still had a lot of fun listening to you. Your stories definitely made the time fly faster – a thirty-minute long train ride seemed to last no more than ten minutes.

“I am so tired,” you complained, trying to ignore the pulsating pain in your heels. You should’ve chosen a more comfortable pair of shoes. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything done tomorrow. My feet are killing me.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Jaemin declared as the two of you began your walk to the house. “Besides, we’re almost done. The living room is going to take us a day tops. I had some calls from potential clients. I may start scheduling house tours sometime next week.”

“Are you sure they’re real clients and not some random people who just want to take a closer look at my amazing ass?” You challenged, turning your head around to look at your asset in question.

“Don’t worry, your ass is safe,” Jaemin assured, winking at you, sneaking a peek at your butt. “I always do a brief background check on potential clients. I’ll keep all the weirdoes away from you.”

“Thank you, Jaemin. Your help here is unmatched. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re saying it like that as if that’s not literally my job,” Jaemin jested, gently poking your side.

“Anyway, I was thinking… it would be nice to take care of the garden before we invite people for house tours. Maybe it’s not as important as inside, but it’s still the first thing the client sees. I don’t really have expertise in gardening, but I’d like to try it.”

Renovating the house was fun, and you didn’t want it to end. The garden was in a pretty rough shape as of now, so it wasn’t that much of a lame excuse to keep Jaemin around. You were friends now, but you feared that once the house got sold, you could eventually drift apart.

“It does need a little touch-up,” Jaemin agreed, nodding his head. “I mean… everybody knows it’s the kitchen that sells the house, but it’s the garden that leaves the first impression.”

“We still need to do something about the ghost. Not everybody is as open-minded as we are,” you wondered, knowing it would be a difficult obstacle to overcome. No one, in the right state of mind, would willingly purchase an estate with a ghostly squatter.

“Oh no, don’t include me here. I don’t accept its presence. I suffer through it because of your stubbornness,” Jaemin was quick to interject, providing you with his point of view. “But I strongly agree the ghost needs to be evicted. I admit, Yuta’s house call was a screwup.”

“Maybe an exorcist could help. Like… a legitimate one. I wonder how long their waiting line is. And how much they’re charging for their services,” you wondered out loud, trying to find a way to get rid of the issue. “Or maybe we can get a new Ouija board and try to make contact. If we appease the ghost, its soul may find peace.”

“I’d rather die and bring the ghost to hell by myself,” Jaemin threw in, strongly disapproving your proposition. “Even if all the other ways fail, we will not be using the Ouija board.”

“I can do it myself,” you offered, ready to risk it and proceed solo.

“Maybe there’s no ghost at all. I’ve read this article about infrasounds. Basically, it means there are sounds that the human ear can’t pick up. Although we can’t hear them, they still may affect us. They can cause goosebumps, intolerable sensations, and many other things we may confuse as being rattled. If we find the source, we could turn them off.”

“That’s a cool theory, but I doubt infrasounds could blow up a light bulb,” you said, quick to deny his thesis. “Oh, it’s raining,” you quickly lost your thought as you felt droplets of rain fall on your head.

It was a warm night. There was barely any wind, and now summer rain began pelting down.

“Let’s hurry. We don’t want to get sick, do we?” You stated, grabbing Jaemin by his shoulder. “We’re like ten minutes away. Let’s get home before this drizzle turns into a downpour.”

“You know what I always think about when it rains?” Jaemin asked as he pulled away from you, making you stop and turn around to look at him.

“Why do your ankles and knees ache so bad?” You took a wild guess, bursting out laughing. “I’ve read that we may feel pain because of barometric pressure,” you explained, but Jaemin shook his head, quick to dismiss your hypothesis.

“That was a very good guess, but that’s not what I think about,” Jaemin beamed before he looked into your eyes. Typically, you’d feel bashful and try to avoid Jaemin’s gaze, but the remains of the alcohol in your system made you bold. “Whenever it rains, I think about one crazy spontaneous woman. She told me she had never kissed in the rain, so we did,” Jaemin elaborated. You opened your mouth in shock, not expecting this conversation to take such an abrupt turn.

“She seems great,” you replied, tutting your own horn.

“She is great,” Jaemin corrected you, making you grin. “Too bad I fucked it up.”

“If she is as great as you claim, maybe she believes in second chances, too,” you said as you took a cautious step toward Jaemin, smiling at him fondly. “Besides, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re great too. I can bet she can see that.”

“What do you suggest I do?” Jaemin asked, nearing you. Your faces were only inches apart – if you leaned in ever so slightly, you could taste his lips. “Sometimes, when I look at her, I want to kiss her breath away. Do you think she would mind?”

“You never know until you grow a pair to try,” you teased, raising your arms to play with the collar of his shirt. Now, you two were breathing the same air. “Nevermind,” you added, rolling your eyes before you surged forward to press your lips against his.

Jaemin wasn’t shocked by your boldness. If anything, he was a bit pouty that he wasn’t the one to make the final move. His reflexes were just too slow.

Anyway, back to the point, you were kissing him.

At fucking last.

Jaemin instantly responded, melting into the kiss. His hands squeezed your sides, shoving you against his frame. You felt dizzy, willing to get lost in the sensation. Being held in Jaemin’s arms and kissing him just made sense, and the dripping rain only exalted the romantic atmosphere.

Your mouths moved in sync as if you were fighting for the last bubble of air. Eyes shut closed, impatient moans swallowed, bodies pressed tightly against each other, leaving no space between.

“You feel more bulky than I remember,” you commented, giving his bicep a playful squeeze as you pulled away for a second to catch a breath. (You were sure not enough air was reaching your brain.)

“Because I was the one carrying all that crap from the basement,” Jaemin jested, leaning forward. His hands held your face gently before he pressed a series of quick pecks, savoring the innocent affection.

“No need to thank me,” you smugly replied, pulling him against you into yet another heated make-out session.

“I wasn’t gonna,” he interjected before you slipped your tongue into his mouth, shutting him up. His hands ran through your hair as he deepened the kiss. His feelings for you were all over the place right now, and he hoped you could faultlessly identify them. (But if you didn’t, Jaemin would love to spell them out for you at any given moment.) However, the way your body was reacting, he was pretty sure you not only were aware of his emotions, but you also felt the same way about him.

“I’m so wet.”

“Of course you are,” Jaemin smirked, suggestively wiggling his eyebrow. Nibbling your bottom lip, Jaemin kissed you again in hopes the snog would blow you away and make you forget all about his lame innuendo.

“You’re such a pig,” you breathed out, playfully hitting him in the chest, giggling. Despite the brief nature of your touch, you could tell Jaemin’s heart was racing. Either he was really excited about the kiss, or he was about to go into cardiac arrest. “I mean… yeah, that too, but I meant literally. The rain is getting worse. We should hurry up home.”

“Let’s go,” Jaemin said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. You were about ten minutes away from the house, but it would take only six minutes if you jogged. Although you didn’t expect to do cardio after a long night out, you had no other choice. You had already pushed it kissing Jaemin in the rain – now, you hoped neither of you would get sick.

You and Jaemin reached the house in record time, and the moment you found shelter on the patio, Jaemin kissed you again. Though you barely dove into sensual pleasures, Jaemin was already starved for you. He barely had a taste, and his yearning could not be satiated.

“We haven’t even made it home yet,” you pointed out, but Jaemin interpreted it more as a fact rather than a suggestion, so instead of giving you space to unlock the doors, he pressed you against them. He was impatient and a bit rough, but you enjoyed it. A lot.

You were both short on breath, but it didn’t matter. Jaemin could have you squished between his firm frame and the doors, yet he still wasn’t close enough to your liking. Each kiss Jaemin gave you cost you a big chunk of sanity. You didn’t think about your actions – you acted solely on instinct.

Jaemin’s hands were all over you, exploring your curves. Shamelessly, you were rubbing against him. Due to your lewd ministrations, you could feel the erection grow in his pants.

Suddenly, the outside sconce lightning on both sides of the entrance started to flicker. It didn’t make him jolt away. Instead, Jaemin froze mid-kiss in his spot to look up at the malfunctioning light.

“For a second, I forgot we live in a haunted house,” Jaemin groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. To say he was fed up was an understatement.

“It could’ve been worse,” you said as you cupped Jaemin’s face and gave him a comforting peck. It worked like magic – Jaemin knew he was safe with you despite the circumstances, and it calmed him down. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get rid of the ghost. Even if I have to get an exorcist license myself,” you assured him, sending him a soft smile.

“Did you just call me baby?” Jaemin asked, and admittedly – his selective hearing did not fail to surprise you.

“Shut up, you loved it,” you deadpanned, playfully shoving him away.

“I did,” Jaemin grinned at you, stealing another peck from you. “Not the pet name of my choice, but you’re right, I did,” he added, staring into your eyes. “Anyway… where were we?”

“We were trying to open the doors and get inside.”

“Are you trying to gaslight me right now?” Jaemin asked, and you rolled your eyes at him before you turned around to fight with the lock. “I could swear it’s not what was happening,” he carried on, wrapping his arms around your frame and giving you a tight back hug.

“Well… that’s what would’ve happened if you hadn’t distracted me,” you argued back, trying to make a point, but you had trouble collecting your thoughts as Jaemin pressed a series of sloppy kisses down your neck. “Now, step back, can you? We’re gonna freeze to death here.”

“I’m trying to keep you warm, can’t you see?” Jaemin said, snuggling even closer to you.

Although you leaned into Jaemin’s chest, letting him crash your bones, you still managed to fish a bunch of keys out of your purse. It was tricky to insert due to darkness and Jaemin’s cuddly shenanigans, but, at last, you succeeded and pushed the doors open.

“Come on,” you urged, pulling Jaemin inside.

Jaemin quickly kicked the doors shut and locked them from the inside. Grinning, you wrapped your arms around his neck and stole yet another kiss. Paying no attention to your surroundings, you waltzed around the foyer and the kitchen, knocking down an umbrella stand and a few spatulas before he picked you up and sat on the kitchen island.

“We should take off our drenched clothes,” you pointed out, pushing Jaemin’s jacket off his shoulders, letting it drop around his feet.

“We definitely should,” Jaemin agreed, reaching to unclip the straps of your shoes. “We didn’t run all the way here to get sick inside,” he added, and you shook your legs side to side, letting your shoes drop onto the floor.

“I don’t think I can reach the zipper. Can you help me?” You coyly asked, batting your eyelashes at Jaemin. He found it suspicious that you had put it on without much trouble, and now you couldn’t take it off, but he decided not to ponder it. He’d gladly help you out of your predicament.

Jaemin leaned in and carefully pulled the zipper down. His touch was delicate, and it made your blood flow faster in excitement. It was shocking how responsive your body was to him. Giggling, you played with Jaemin’s hair, kissing and marking the skin of his neck with love bites.

“Let’s take it off before you catch a cold,” Jaemin urged as he grabbed the hem of your dress, waiting for you to raise your hand so he could undress you. Jaemin bit his bottom lip, looking at you. Though there was barely any light in the room, he could still make out your sexy features. The way he looked at you filled you with pride and confidence.

You were in only your nude lingerie set, and Jaemin most definitely could make out your hardened nipples through the soaked bralette. Jaemin, on the other hand, was way too overdressed for your liking, so when he was busy staring at you, you took your chance and undid the button of his pants. In no time, his zipper was down too.

“What? I need to make sure you stay healthy, too,” you smirked, shamelessly looking at his erection. The flimsy piece of fabric of his boxers didn’t leave much to the imagination, so you could admire and salivate at his impressive bulge.

Smiling at you, Jaemin kicked off the pants that pooled around his ankles. Quickly, he also took off his wet socks and undid a few buttons of his shirt. You could see his muscles as the material was sticking to his skin, but it still excited you when Jaemin stripped. His excruciatingly slow pace worked magic on your imagination, turning you on more.

Though Jaemin didn’t properly touch you yet, you were already wet.

“I need you, Jaemin,” you breathed out as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders and pulled him against you, smashing your lips against him. Desperately, you wrapped your legs around him and locked them around his lean waist. His kisses, although incredible, weren’t enough, and you were starting to lose your mind.

“I can’t believe I finally have you like that all to myself,” Jaemin commented as he rubbed his clothed cock against your folds, teasing your clit. “What should I do with you, huh?” Jaemin wondered, smirking before he leaned in to shower your neck and collarbones with rough kisses, which were most definitely to leave marks on your skin.

“Fuck my brains out, preferably,” you confessed, grinding against him a bit harder as current stimulation wasn’t enough to get you anywhere. “How can you have so much self-restraint? How come your cock is still in your boxers and not inside of me,” you blabbered out in hopes your words would urge him to wreck you.

“Patience, princess,” Jaemin chuckled as his lips traveled down to your breasts. “I want you to come on my tongue first,” he added, pushing the strong of your bra down your shoulder to reveal your breast and the hardened nipple.

Jaemin sucked and nibbled your left nipple, kneading your right breast. It felt nice; Jaemin’s sloppy kisses were keeping you lightheaded while the gentle clit stimulation was making your toes curl.

Carefully, Jaemin made you lie down on the countertop. The surface felt cold under your skin, and it made you hiss. Thankfully, the sensation was short-lived as your mind was hardwired. You weren’t in the right state of mind when Jaemin’s lips pressed against your clit.

His tongue was teasing your entrance mercilessly, making you squirm under his feather-like touch. Your juices mixed with his saliva, letting his long fingers just slide right in.

“Jaemin,” you breathed out his name with words of encouragement. Although his movements were playful, you felt pleasure slowly but steadily build up. Rather than focusing on making you come as fast as he could, Jaemin explored and learnt your body. It was more than enjoyable for you, so you were in no place to neither complain nor rush him.

Jaemin stroke the right nerve a few times. In response, you hoisted your hips and shamelessly rubbed your sex against his face. You couldn’t see his reaction in the dark, but your impatient movements made Jaemin smirk in contentment.

You needed something to hold on to. “I need more,” you panted, shutting your eyes close, letting the pleasure take over you.

“Look at you, squirming under my tongue,” Jaemin spoke up in a mocking tone as he pulled away. His face was glistening with your delicious juices. Jaemin could eat you out for days. “What do you want? My cock? Or will my fingers be enough?” He asked, but you didn’t care. You wanted both, no matter the order. “Good girls respond when asked a question,” Jaemin tutted, waiting for your reply.

“Anything, just make me come,” you desperately admitted, missing the way Jaemin’s mouth twitched into a playful smirk. He didn’t need to hear anything else. The anguish in your tone was no joke, and your well-deserved orgasm wasn’t a subject to fool around with.

“Anything for you, princess,” Jaemin whispered before he spat on your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. There was something unexplainably erotic about it, and you gasped for air when he slid his long fingers inside of you.

You were squirming under his touch, moaning in the rhythm of Jaemin’s thrusts. Jaemin quickly learnt your body – as soon as he found a sweet spot that made you squeeze around his fingers, he kept stroking it with the same intensity.

When you were seconds away from your release, Jaemin smirked and took your clit in his mouth, knowing you had no other choice but to come around his fingers.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you hollered, giving in to the mind-blowing pleasure that erupted within you. It’s been a while since you came that hard. Whether it was Jaemin’s fingers, your deeply hidden feelings for him, or a mix of both, you felt light in the head.

“I hope you’re ready for more,” Jaemin whispered, smugly staring at you. Unreasonable pride filled him when he could see you blessed like that. “You can take much more than that,” he egged you on, placing delicate kisses all over your bare skin.

“Of course, I can,” you added before you sat up. It was almost morning at this point, but a little bit of exhaustion wasn’t going to make you tap out. Besides, Jaemin gifted you a bone-shattering orgasm, the least you could do was return the favor.

Jaemin’s briefs were stained with precum. His cock was fully erect and it made you drool. You wanted to feel him in your mouth, to push him down your throat. However, the prospect of him fucking you excited you just as much.

You stared at Jaemin fondly, and he quickly leaned in and kissed you. While your lips were smashing against each other with lust, you reached down and slid your hand under the hem of his briefs, wrapping your hand against his erection.

Despite your dazed state, you could make out each vein across his hard length. You were wicked enough to wonder how it would feel inside of you, throbbing.

“Do you have a condom?” You innocently asked as you rested your forehead against his. You’d suck him off on a different occasion. Right now, you needed him to fill you up.

“I – I don’t,” Jaemin revealed, looking away.

You didn’t know if you were disappointed or embarrassed, so you chose to laugh. You didn’t have a condom, either. Your luck was simply absurd at this point.

You and Jaemin were standing there, staring at each other awkwardly. You had to say something and save the atmosphere. You couldn’t let such a minor inconvenience ruin the mood.

“Are you on birth control?” Jaemin asked, biting on his lip in anticipation, and you shook your head.

“I didn’t like how the pills made me feel,” you confessed, and Jaemin smiled, not needing more explanation. “It doesn’t mean we can’t do it. I mean… I’m clean.”

“Me too.”

“You could pull out,” you offered with a shrug. It was risky, but you trusted Jaemin. And if by any chance, he would fail to do so, you could always unalive him. (At least, in theory.)

“You mean it?” Jaemin asked making sure you were comfortable with it. Although you were the one to propose it, Jaemin wouldn’t insist if you needed a moment to reconsider your decision.

Jaemin’s tone was serious, and it made you shy under his considerate gaze.

“I trust you,” you proclaimed, genuinely smiling at him.

Jaemin couldn’t believe his ears. You were literally the woman of his dreams. Not only he had eaten you out, but now, you were willing to let him fuck you raw. Even in his boldest fantasies, he didn’t expect this night to take such a turn. (Or maybe he did. Jaemin was lonely, and dirty perverted fantasies were the only thing he had left.)

Right here, right now Jaemin could tell you how much you mean to him.

“I need you,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes. Impatiently, you once again reached down, giving Jaemin’s cock a few cautious strokes.

Eagerly, you shuffled to the edge of the countertop, spreading your legs apart.

Jaemin felt stressed. He assumed you’d feel the same, but when he looked into your eyes, he only saw excitement and fondness. When you said you trusted him, you really meant it, and it made Jaemin’s heart skip a beat.

His hands rested on your ass, holding you in place. Carefully, you guided his length to your entrance, letting the tip of his cock smear your juices all over the folds.

“We’re really doing it,” Jaemin murmured rather to himself, still unable to process he was going to fuck you raw. His enthusiasm was through the roof.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, mischievously nibbling his earlobe. His cock was brushing across your soaked folds; he just needed to thrust to completely feel you. “Please,” you begged, and Jaemin lost his cool, pushing all the way in with a loud moan – it was insane of him to let out such a guttural animalistic sound.

“Fuck,” he panted, feeling a bit overwhelmed with how warm and tight you felt. It’s safe to say Jaemin started to lose his mind. He remained still, letting you adjust to his size.

“Yes,” you breathed out against his skin, peppering his neck and jaw with featherlike pecks. You could feel him throbbing inside, and your pleas for him to move left your mouth like a chant.

At first, Jaemin’s thrusts were slow and precise. The way you were moaning his name drove him crazy, making him pick up his pace, testing out how loud you could go. Your kisses were sloppy, teeth clashing, bit biting. Rather than focus, Jaemin gave into the sensations, quickly falling out of his steady rhythm.

“Just like that, Jaemin, please, keep going,” you hollered, feeling another orgasm approach.

Upon hearing you, Jaemin tried his best to maintain his tempo. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he pounded inside of you.

“Fuck,” Jaemin huffed under his breath as he felt your walls tighten around his erection. He was close too, but he needed to take you to your release first. It would be too easy to come inside you right now, but he had made a promise and he intended to keep it.

Your moans mixed with his and the lewd sounds of skin slapping resonated in your ears like a sinful song. All of your senses were overloaded. One more powerful push later you were coming around Jaemin’s cock. At the top of your voice, you moaned his name as pleasure crushed you.

“That’s right, princess, fuck–” Jaemin cooed as he pulled away, his hand instantly reaching his erection, rubbing it ferociously until completion. Uncontrollably, ropes of cum spurted all over your stomach and breasts and his hands. It was a mess, but neither of you cared.

You were spent.

Jaemin fucked you so well you could just drop onto the countertop and fall asleep right there. The lazy part of you felt tempted to do that. However, a quick shower and warm sheets sounded heavenly right now, especially if Jaemin decided to join you.

“We made quite a mess,” you laughed, looking down at your stomach all covered in Jaemin’s cum.

“We certainly did,” Jaemin agreed, swift to match your energy, unable to resist your contagious chuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he added as he took your hands in his, assisting you when you jumped off the countertop.

Rather than going rough, you and Jaemin had given in to raw passion, so when you landed on your feet and wobbled a bit, you were taken aback. Jaemin, on the other hand, seemed pleased. It was evidence, proving how incredibly he fucked you, and he was unreasonably smug about it.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling Jaemin along with you. Your grip on his wrist wasn’t strong, so Jaemin managed to wiggle his hand out with a simple jerk. Quickly, you looked at his hand, wondering if you completely misread the situation. Thankfully, before you got to get ahead of yourself and overthink, Jaemin smirked, throwing you over his shoulder, and carrying you to the bathroom.

***

As much tempting as it was to go another round in the bathtub, you and Jaemin kept your hands to themselves. (Or at least, in a sexual type of way.) Water splashed all over the bathroom floor as you both tried to fit inside the tub, but you couldn’t care less. It’d dry up in no time.

Quickly, you put on clean panties and threw a loose soft T-shirt over your head. You were so tired you had no idea how you managed to get to your bed. You nearly tripped over Jaemin’s mattress that was still lying on the floor next to your bed frame.

“Finally,” you huffed as you plopped onto the bed, crawling under the sheets. Your eyes were closed, and Jaemin tried to be as quiet as a mouse, trying not to wake you up. Thankfully, you weren’t fully asleep yet, so when you heard him shuffle around his mattress, you were quick to scold him and invite him to lie next to you.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to,” Jaemin whispered, but you only yanked him down, making him ungraciously fall on the bed.

“Shut up and cuddle me,” you ordered, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your back was pressed against his chest as you snuggled closer. “It’s after dawn already, let’s go to sleep.”

***

You woke up about three hours later fully energized, ready to seize the day. You had no idea why, but your body always reacted like that after a night out. Though at first, you considered it a curse, now it felt more like a blessing.

Carefully, you turned around to see Jaemin sleeping soundly right next to you. All things you had done last night weren’t a feverish dream – you still very much could feel his lingering touch.

Despite your newfound energy, you decided to stay in bed. It was warm and comfortable, and there was nothing urgent that required your participation.

Rays of sunshine poured into the room, yet it wasn’t enough to wake Jaemin up.

“Good morning,” Jaemin whispered in a raspy tone as he stretched his limbs.

“You’re awake?” You asked in shock as you didn’t expect him to get up before noon.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Jaemin teased, his hand searching for your butt, pulling you closer to him. “What are you thinking about? My eyes are closed but I still can hear the gears in your brain shift.”

“Us,” you vaguely stated, biting your lips. Though you felt in your guts there wasn’t a one-time thing, the possibility of you misreading the circumstances existed. You were sure Jaemin reciprocated your feelings, but it was better to openly talk about it instead of avoiding the subject.

“Oh boy,” Jaemin started, giggling quietly. Although he seemed cool and collected, he was panicking on the inside. “I want you so so bad,” he confessed, staring into your eyes with honesty and softness. Quickly, his hands found yours under the duvet, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I want you too,” you admitted. Your lips were curved in a wide smile as you couldn’t hide your elation. Thankfully, you and Jaemin were on the same wavelength.

“Should we go on a date today?” Jaemin wondered, already thinking where he could take you out. There wasn’t much to do around here, and he didn’t feel like going all the way to the city two days in a row. Besides, on Sundays, the trains didn’t take off as often as on weekdays.

“I’d really like that,” you replied, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s do that.”

***

“I have a strange déjà vu moment right now,” you said as you and Jaemin stopped in front of a shelf with condoms. You remembered that day vividly. Back then, you had spited him, throwing all condoms in your shopping basket, leaving him empty-handed. Now, the scene looked completely different.

First of all, you came together to do grocery shopping. (There wasn’t much to do on a Sunday afternoon in this provincial countryside, so you and Jaemin decided to rain-check your official date.)

Usually, either one of you would take care of groceries on the way back from somewhere, so it felt genuinely nice to shop together.

You were awfully domestic – holding hands, throwing each other’s favorite snacks to the basket.

“Don’t remind me,” Jaemin shook at the memory. “It’s both the best and worst day of my life,” he admitted, cringing at his memory. He was devastated after catching his girlfriend cheat on him. By chance, he met you, and you dragged him to a night full of unexpected adventures. Unfortunately, he messed up big time by ghosting you later.

“So that’s where the bar is,” you wondered, naughty scenarios clouding your mind. Smirking at him, you picked up a few condom packages and threw them into the basket. “We can easily top that.”

“I never doubted that,” he added, pressing a quick peck, hoping he didn’t make anyone uncomfortable with his impulsive public display of affection. “Today has a lot of potential,” he teased before adding a few extra condom packages to the basket.

You could feel warmth creep up to your cheeks as your mind came up with a few lewd scenarios. There were so many of them, you knew you could only perform a fraction of them tonight.

“Is that all?” You asked, tilting your head towards the basket, peeking inside to see if you found all items on your mental shopping list. Apparently, your list consisted only of condoms, carbonated drinks, and many other types of comfort food.

“I think we’ve run out of mouthwash. Let me go get it real quick,” Jaemin volunteered, marching away to the alley with oral hygiene. “Meet me at the cash register in two,” he hollered before he completely disappeared out of your sight.

“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath, giggling. The oral hygiene section was two alleys to the left, and Jaemin just turned to the right. “Adorable.”

***

It was definitely the laziest day yet. Except for a short trip to the supermarket, you didn’t do much. However, you still loved every second spent in Jaemin’s presence.

Currently, all types of unhealthy snacks were laid out on the coffee table in case either of you felt a sudden craving for something sweet, sour, spicy, or salty. You were chilling on the couch, your bodies entwined together. A crime show was on TV, but neither of you paid much attention to what was being aired. Mindless cuddles with Jaemin seemed much more fun. His large hands traveled all over your body. His fingers were drawing various shapes on your exposed skin. Except for a few times when Jaemin slid his arm under your shirt to grope your breast, his ministrations were rather virtuous.

“I’m gonna make myself some tea. Would you like some?” You announced as you wriggled out of Jaemin’s hold. All the sugar and salt you had consumed made you thirsty for something healthy.

“I’d love some coffee if it’s not a problem,” Jaemin said, and you smiled, shaking your head. Although you wondered what he might’ve needed caffeine for this late, you decided to fulfill his request as it didn’t really make that much of a difference.

“Of course not; I’ll be right back,” you smiled before you quickly shuffled to the kitchen.

You were gone for maybe five minutes, but it was enough for Jaemin to get completely sucked into the plot. Carefully, you placed the mugs on the coffee table, trying not to walk into Jaemin’s line of vision. After all, Jaemin looked really handsome when he was focused on something.

With a sigh, you sat down on the floor, resting your back against the couch. A fuzzy carpet felt comfortable, and it was easier for you to reach the mug with your tea.

“It’s so fun to do nothing with you,” you commented as you leaned to the side, resting your head against his knee. Jaemin only hummed, reciprocating the feeling.

Dolce far niente.

You tried watching television, but you were unable to focus as much as Jaemin. While he barely blinked, trying not to miss a single frame, you were sighing, waiting for something to pull you in.

Unfortunately, it didn’t.

Jaemin was more interesting, so that’s where you fixated your eyes at. His hair was messy. He was wearing a pair of black tracksuit pants and a white T-shirt. He looked like any other dude, but in your eyes, he was just radiating attractiveness. Maybe it was a bit pathetic, but Jaemin didn’t even try to make you drool.

“Jaemin,” you cooed in a suspiciously sweet tone, and Jaemin looked at you softly, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to guess what you were up to.

Thankfully, Jaemin couldn’t read your mind. Your thoughts consisted only of his cock and your mouth, and you could swear some of them were so obscene, Jaemin would shy away.

“What are you think about, princess?” Jaemin asked, and you absentmindedly touched his thigh, running your hand up and down his tensed muscles.

“I’d rather show you instead,” you eagerly said as you fumbled to sit comfortably between his legs. Your chin was nested in your hands as your elbows dug into the couch right next to Jaemin’s crotch. Smirking, you looked into Jaemin’s eyes. Whatever you wanted to imply, he was into it.

Jaemin was too stunned to speak; staring at you, Jaemin gulped, waiting for your move.

You placed your hands on his knees, slowly rubbing his muscles upwards as you wondered if it was enough to make him squirm. Audaciously, you cupped his cock through the fabric until you could feel him harden under your touch.

Jaemin’s breaths were short and shallow. His eyes were focused on your lips, which glistened in the faint light after you seductively licked them. Though you barely started working him up, Jaemin already wondered how deep you were to take him.

Smirking, you hooked your fingers under the hem of his sweatpants and boxers. Jaemin quietly hissed as he didn’t expect your digits to feel so cold against his skin.

“I want you in my mouth so bad I can’t bring myself to tease you. It’s crazy,” you admitted before you freed Jaemin’s cock with one fluid yank. His sweatpants and boxers pooled around his ankles, but your full attention was on his cock that sprung out of Jaemin’s undergarments, almost fully ready for action.

Impatiently, you wrapped your left hand around the base of his cock, giving it a few circular strokes before you leaned forward and placed a few gentle pecks on the tip. You could feel faint throbbing under your touch as you slowly trailed wet kisses down his length.

“It looks like teasing to me, though,” Jaemin commented as he dug his fingers in his thigh, trying his best not to move, giving you a chance to please him the way you wanted to. He could thrust his hips upwards and force himself into your mouth, but what’s the fun in that?

Ignoring his comment, you ran your tongue along the veins of his cock, leaving as much saliva as you could to help you get rid of friction.

Jaemin puffed under his breath as he watched you gently pump his shaft. You used your hands while your tongue messaged the tip, spreading the precum around.

“Oh baby,” Jaemin gasped, slowing losing his mind. Gently, Jaemin ran his hand through your hair, keeping it out of your face, so he could have a clear sight on your lips that were wrapped around his rock hard length. “You’re killing me,” Jaemin quietly moaned as he thought it wasn’t a terrible way to go. “Spit on it,” he ordered, biting his lips, trying to guess if you’d actually do it.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Smirking, you spat on his length, coating it with your saliva to allow smooth movement. Eagerly, you rubbed his cock, applying enough force to get him writhe.

His muscles were tense, his cock was throbbing. Your eyes focused on its red tip as you leaned and enveloped your lips around it, giving it a few cautious sucks.

You bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking more and more of him. Your hands cupped his balls, gently squeezing and tugging them – just enough to get Jaemin to moan your name like a mantra.

Jaemin tried to control himself, but you still could feel his perfunctory thrusts. You didn’t really mind them. You enjoyed sucking him off and how responsive he was to your touch – there was a high chance you’d like it a bit more if he lost his cool and became a little rough.

“You take me so well,” Jaemin breathed out when you lowered your head and hollowed your cheeks. “Fuck,” he cursed, unable to stay still. He was so close he couldn’t think straight. As selfish as it sounded, right now, the only thing on his mind was his release. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” he apologized when his hips involuntarily jolted upwards, pushing his cock down your throat until your nose brushed against his pubic bone.

If it wasn’t for the dick in your mouth, you’d tell him there’s nothing to worry about. You couldn’t blame him for giving in to the pleasure. Tears prickled in your eyes after the sudden shove, but you still relished it.

Your throat was relaxed as you took all of him in, your tongue pressed against his prominent vein. Your hands played with his balls. His orgasm was near, and you wanted him to come in your mouth.

Jaemin’s breaths were shallow and uneven. His eyes were shut close as he hoisted his hips a couple of times before reaching his peak. At the top of his voice, Jaemin shouted your name along with a dozen swear words as he shot his load, white ropes of his release stained your tongue, lips, and chin.

Staring at his fucked out face, you swallowed his cum. With the tip of your tongue, you licked your lips clean. The remaining evidence of his release, you wiped with the back of your hand.

“I don’t deserve you,” Jaemin confessed as he stared down at you, looking for your hand to entwine with his. “Come here,” he cooed, helping you climb on his thighs.

You wanted to communicate so many things. However, all your mind could come up with was confessions, and you figured the timing wasn’t ideal. You didn’t want to profess your love for him when you could still feel the lingering salty taste of his cum on your tongue, so you settled on comfortable silence.

Jaemin placed his hands on your butt as he yanked you against his chest, pressing kisses all over your neck and jaw. You tried to wriggle out of his hug as you felt ticklish, but Jaemin only tightened his arms around you. Although Jaemin was a bit mean, you both were happy, laughing until your stomachs began to hurt.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you again,” Jaemin admitted as you smugly smiled, mentally counting time for Jaemin’s cock to get hard again.

“Me too,” you added as you wrapped your hands around Jaemin’s neck, playing with his fluffy hair. Jaemin’s cock was under you – you were rubbing yourself against it, and even though your clothes were in the way, you could feel it grow due to your impatient movements.

“Aren’t you desperate?” Jaemin sneered, watching your hips repetitively brush against his length. You were horny for him, and it made his ego skyrocket.

“Only for you,” you added, fueling his fervor.

Jaemin’s had enough of your teasing. Right now, he needed you as much as you needed him. Heaving a deep sigh, Jaemin grabbed your butt and picked you up, tossing your frame on the couch. You were taken aback – you expected another love making session. You assumed it’d take a while for him to unleash the inner beast and manhandle you like a lustful caveman.

You were wrong, and this time, you didn’t mind.

Gasping in shock, you lay on your back and watched Jaemin situate himself between your spread legs. Impatiently, he got rid of your clothes. In a matter of seconds, you were bare in front of him, looking beautiful as ever.

“Your panties are so wet as if you came when sucking me off? Were you that turned on?” Jaemin asked as he inspected your undergarment, feeling the soaked fabric in his hands. Smirking at you, he ran his hand over your folds and slid his fingers inside you. “Princess…”

You were as ready as you were physically able to be.

“Fuck me,” you breathed out when Jaemin pulled the T-shirt over his head, revealing his muscular chest. His fingers stroked his hardened length as he stared at you lying under him. “I need your cock, please,” you pouted, knowing he didn’t have the guts to turn you down.

“Hand me the condoms, okay?” Jaemin ordered, and you obediently craned your neck before you reached for the packaging. “Good girl,” he tutted, “do you want to roll it down for me?”

You nodded, too prideful to speak.

In haste, you tore the box apart and took a condom out of its foil. Biting on your bottom lip in concentration, you tried to put the protection on Jaemin’s erection.

“Thank you, baby,” Jaemin whispered with a suggestive smirk as he peeled your hands off his cock and put them over your head. “Can you keep your hands to yourself?” He challenged you as he aligned his length to your soaking entrance.

“We both know I can’t,” you honestly answered, not even trying to hide that you could be a brat in that matter. Even if Jaemin was on top of you, you didn’t want to be passive.

“Fair enough,” Jaemin admitted as he pushed the tip of his cock inside you, making you gasp. “I’d need to cuff you to make you listen to me, wouldn’t I?”

“You never know until you try,” you challenged as you tried to relax and get used to his size. You could feel every vein of his cock as it was buried deep inside of you. “Add handcuffs to the shopping list. We gotta try it soon,” you added eagerly, arching your back as the pleasure started to build up.

Jaemin loved your eagerness and curiosity. It meant the world to him that you wanted to experience all of it with him. He really couldn’t ask for more.

“Maybe that way, we’ll finally end up in bed,” he concluded as he thought of taking his time with you in the confines of your bed.

“Jaemin,” you loudly moaned as he bottomed out with a low grunt. Although you were basically dripping with excitement, you still felt tight around him.

Your walls were squeezed around his cock tightly as Jaemin pounded into you at a ferocious pace. Although he barely started fucking you, droplets of sweat formed on his forehead.

“Fuck,” you whined when his cock was sheathed deep inside you.

Despite your loud moans and lewd skin-slapping sounds, you both could hear a loud thud. Instantly, Jaemin stilled, taken aback by the noise.

It sounded as if a hefty object got knocked off onto the attic floor. Strangely enough, you knew it was impossible as you had thrown everything out two weeks ago.

“What was that?” Jaemin asked –it was definitely louder than any other ghost shenanigans.

“The ghost, obviously,” you deadpanned with a roll of your eyes. It wasn’t the first time the ghost tried to put Jaemin out of the right mood and cockblock you. Enough was enough, you wondered as you wrapped your arms around Jaemin’s neck and pulled him for a passionate kiss. “Ignore it, and it shall stop,” you added, brushing your nose against his in hopes you could seduce him and make him forget about that incident.

Jaemin reciprocated the kiss, slowly rolling his hips as you raked your fingers across his back. You were feeling hot all over, but when his cock found that sensitive bud, you accidentally dug into his skin, leaving shallow scratching marks down his spine.

Thud!

“We should check it out,” Jaemin jerked his head upwards when another noise rang in his ears.

“Go ahead,” you said with disappointment in your voice.

“Me? Alone?” Jaemin exclaimed but then cleared his throat, trying to save his image. “I mean… I’m not leaving you here all by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”

“Do you want me to go and check?” You challenged, sending Jaemin an unamused look.

“Let you go there without backup? No way,” he argued. It was more likely for hell to freeze over than for Jaemin to let you go to the attic alone.

“I’ll get someone to check it in the morning, okay?” You said, pressing an innocent peck against Jaemin’s lips. “Now, that being said, fuck me. If you don’t start pounding that cock, I’m gonna ride you and –

You didn’t even get to finish as Jaemin captured your lips, sucking the air out of your lips with his lustful kiss. Jaemin snapped his hips powerfully, making you whine. His moves were so fast and precise that he basically forced pleasure onto you. Your breasts were bouncing in his rhythm.

“Jaem – I’m coming,” you shouted, arching your back as utter bliss washed through you. “Fuck,” you carried on as waves of pleasure hit you one by one.

Jaemin came seconds after you. It was impossible for him to keep going, not when your walls clenched around him, caging him inside when he shot his load into the condom.

Completely drained, Jaemin fell on the couch next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he tried to catch a breath.

Panting, Jaemin sneaked his arm around you and pulled you against his chest.

You felt comfortable in his arms. As long as you wanted him, he’d never let you go.

“I still want to eat you out,” Jaemin whispered into your ear as he closed his eyes and cuddled to your side. “Just give me a few minutes to rest.”

***

The interior was done. Every single room got deep cleaned, upgraded, and elevated. Unlike your other projects, you did it up to your personal taste, and you loved the final outcome. Now when the product was almost ready for sale, you had doubts.

The mansion belonged to your family for many generations. Though your relatives considered it a burden, you could see its full potential. To say you were anxious about selling it was an understatement. Thankfully, you still had about a week and a half to make up your mind – courtesy of Jaemin, who put a hold on arranging a house tour.

However, now it was time to focus on the exterior and the land around the house. The constriction crew you hired was already setting up the scaffolding around the mansion. Their foreman assured you it wouldn’t take more than four days to repaint the elevation and replace the old roof tiles. That being said, you and Jaemin had more than enough time to map out every inch of the garden.

That’s why you and Jaemin strolled around the property, hand in hand, brainstorming.

“What do you think about fruit trees over there? How about cherry trees? Or maybe peach trees? They’re both low maintenance, so they wouldn’t be much of a burden to the future owners,” you said as you pulled your hand out of Jaemin’s gentle grip. You needed both hands to make a frame with your fingers to see it from an accurate perspective.

“According to Google, everybody can grow them,” Jaemin replied, fact-checking your statement.

“I think you’re reading the same article I did,” you giggled, giving Jaemin a quick kiss. “Hmm… the house is blocking most of the sunlight here.”

“That’s what I was thinking. How about we plant them slightly to the left?” Jaemin proposed, and you hummed, agreeing it was definitely a better place. “Let me see how quick we can have them delivered.”

“There’s no rush,” you casually added, shrugging. The longer the renovation was going, the longer you could stay in that countryside piece of heaven with Jaemin. “Who thought that landscaping is so difficult?” You asked before you walked away to explore the rest of the area, wishing for your inspiration to come.

“Wait up for me, princess,” Jaemin hollered, quickly interlocking his hand in yours.

You and Jaemin circled around the house about ten times before you had an idea of how to landscape most of the area.

“I feel like something’s missing,” you spoke up, looking at Jaemin’s profile. He was right beside you, his arm slouched over your shoulders, ready to support you every step of the way – like he always did ever since you started working together on the house.

“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. You always do,” Jaemin said, pressing a chaste kiss against your temple. “Let’s look at the sketch one more time, shall we?” He added, reaching out for a paper with your silly depiction. Admittedly, it looked like something a four-year-old would draw if given a pencil. You knew how to work with it, though. After all, you sketched it.

“The gazebo feels empty despite the rose bushes. Don’t you think?” You wondered, looking around. Although the bushes needed some serious trimming, you could tell something was lacking.

Jaemin hummed, thinking about how to solve this problem. Unfortunately, his brain was blank. He knew why he felt as if something was missing, but he just couldn’t provide you with a solution. High-end apartments were in the range of his expertise – he did not possess any landscaping skills that you could use.

“How about a stone fire pit?”

“Let me visualize it,” Jaemin sighed, closing his eyes. “Nighttime. A couple sits here, blankets over their laps, keeping them warm. The wood softly crackles in the background. One prepares food, and the other pours the wine. It feels nice.”

You liked Jaemin’s impromptu scenario. You’d love to experience that with Jaemin, but you really needed to remind yourself you were making it for future residents.

“I really like that,�� you answered with a sigh, flashing Jaemin a fond smile. “I am not 100% convinced, though. How about a swimming pool? People who can afford such a big house like fancy stuff.”

“I don’t think it really fits the vibe,” Jaemin remarked, and you cursed under your breath, knowing he was right. “Besides, swimming pools are out of fashion, and people barely put them on their priority lists. They unreasonably inflate real estate prices too. It’s not worth the hassle,” he lectured, and you huffed, grasping at straws right now.

Then it hit you.

“I know!” You exclaimed, jumping to your feet, bumping your thighs against the side of the table. “We need a pond! Nothing too big. Wouldn’t that look fantastic here? We could get some Koi fish and plants that would clean and filter pond water. And if we want to splurge, we could install a mini fountain. What do you think?”

Jaemin exhaled, giving your idea a genuine thought, weighing all the pros and cons. Both projects were similar price-wise. The fire pit was more practical, but the pond would fit right in, enhancing the landscape aesthetic.

“I think it’ll look amazing,” Jaemin honestly replied, making you beam. You trusted his judgment. If your idea sucked, Jaemin would tell you or suggest something else.

“In that case, I’ll get the shovels,” you announced, giving Jaemin a series of quick pecks before you strode inside the house. The gardening tools were stored in the basement. Unfortunately, there was only one spade, so if you and Jaemin wanted to dig up the hole together, you needed to take turns.

“You start around the edges. I’ll change you when you get tired,” Jaemin said, sending you a playful wink. You were used to dirty work, so you didn’t complain about the hard labor you were to experience. It would be your first attempt at making such a thing, so you knew you’d have lots of fun trying it out.

“Do you think it’s big enough?” You asked him after you had been digging for about thirty minutes. You were going for a kidney shape of the pond, and you needed a second opinion. You read that Koi fish grow rather quickly, and you wondered if it was enough.

“Depends how much fish we want to get,” Jaemin stated as he circled the pit, wondering. “If we plants bushes and flowers around it, it’ll look cramped. Let’s make it a bit bigger on the bottom side. What do you think?”

For another half an hour, you kept digging, asking Jaemin every five minutes if the pond’s shape seemed intact. You’d get frustrated if, instead of a kidney, the pit would look like a liver or a large intestine.

“Let’s switch. I’m spent,” you said, handing Jaemin a spade. You worked on the shape, but it was Jaemin’s turn to put his muscles to good use and handle the pit’s depth.

Jaemin was digging diligently, and you used your break to catch a breath. You were sitting on the bench, watching him work. His muscles were tensed as he swung the spade. Small droplets of sweat formed on his forehead and dampened his fringe, and when he wiped it off with his forearm, you were shamelessly drooling.

“Do you want to make it one level deep? Personally, I think it’d look better with at least three levels,” Jaemin started, but he didn’t get a reply from you. “Hey! Stop checking me out and pay attention to what I’m saying,” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers, hoping it would pull you out of your horny train of thought.

“You were saying…?” You sheepishly smiled, batting your eyelashes at him. “Oh, the levels, right… I think it’s better to have some variety. Besides, you can see the fish better if they swim in the shallow part of the pond. Let’s do that.”

Jaemin smirked at you before he returned to his work. For another hour or so, you and Jaemin were talking about the best plant choices. Typing away on your computer, you made notes, compared prices, and added a few stuff to the shopping cart.

“There’s something here,” Jaemin said as he stumbled upon something hard in the ground. Not giving it much thought, Jaemin inspected the soil with the blade of his spade, trying to find the object and dig it out.

“It’s probably a rock or something,” you casually said as you approached the hole and craned your neck to see what Jaemin was referring to.

“I don’t think it’s a rock. It’s long and narrow,” Jaemin replied, bending down to swipe the loam off of the unidentified object with his hand. “Oh fuck, it looks like a bone,” he cursed, jumping to the back in shock. “It doesn’t look animal.”

Jaemin quickly hopped out of the pit. The fact that he touched it with his bare hand made him twist in disgust. Frantically, he tried to swipe invisible bugs.

“It looks like a tibia,” you commented as you took a closer look.

“You said what?” Jaemin hollered, trying to stop his gag reflex. He needed to get out of here and take a hot shower.

“I think we need to call the police,” you said, already dialing the emergency number. If human remains were there, the police would know what to do about them. “Just go and take a shower, Jaemin. I can handle them.”

“Thank you so much, I lo-” Jaemin said, biting his tongue just in time before it could slip. That was not the confession you deserved – not over a pit in the ground with possibly a human skeleton in it. “I’ll try to be as quick as possible,” he sheepishly added, marching toward the house.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. It wasn’t a matter of life or death, so they took their precious time to show up.

“Ma’am, step away, please,” a young police officer said as he approached the pit with his partner. “The coroner is on his way. He should be here anytime soon.”

“What did they say?” Jaemin whispered into your ear as he stopped by your side, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Nothing much yet. The coroner said it’s most definitely human. They’ll take the corpse to the morgue and give it a proper examination,” you explained, cuddling up against Jaemin. “Approximately, the corpse has been in the ground for over 80 years.”

“The body has almost fully decomposed. There’s not much left from the clothing, but I found some sort of emblems. I believe our John Doe was a soldier,” the coroner said, looking up at the police. “If my suspicion is correct, the archaeologist might want to have a look at it.”

“Fantastic.”

***

As you had been told, a crew of archaeologists showed up the very next day to check the rest of the area. They brought a lot of gear to scan the ground. Thankfully, they didn’t find anything excavation-worthy.

Thankfully, you managed to ask them about the corpse before they took off. The person was a military pilot who died approximately shortly after the war started, being only 22 years of age. Unfortunately, they were unable to identify the remains. The soldier’s emblems and insignias found will be displayed in the national museum, and his body will rest in peace in the local cemetery.

“That’s so unfortunate they weren’t able to identify him,” Jaemin commented when he learned the news. “His descendants deserve to know.”

“They took his DNA sample, so maybe one day they figure it out.”

“I hope they do,” Jaemin added, stretching his arms. “So… are you ready to get dirty?”

“Are you serious right now? I swear it’s the only thing on your mind,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at him. “Fine, but let’s be quick.”

“I meant gardening,” Jaemin yelled, laughing. Although you thought he was the horndog, in reality, you matched his energy just fine. His statement was innocent, but you chose to interpret it as an invitation for something entirely else. “The plants were dispatched yesterday, but you were too invested supervising the archaeologists to notice it. If we don’t plant them soon, they may wither, so get that sexy brain out of the gutter and put on your gardening gloves.”

“Yes, sir,” you saluted, jumping off the couch to put on your working shoes.

***

You and Jaemin did a lot of great work. Although you had no high expectations, the garden turned out great. (Or at least, the parts where you could plant the bushes and trees as the constriction crew was still working on the roofing. You couldn’t do anything in close proximity to the building.)

Having showered, you walked into your bedroom and joined Jaemin on the bed, cuddling to his side. It was a busy day, and you craved his intimacy. Instinctively, Jaemin snaked his hand around your frame, pulling you closer.

For a while, none of you said anything. Instead, you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you.

“Is it me, or it feels different,” Jaemin whispered, breaking the silence. Confused, you looked at him, but he just smiled and cradled your head in his arm. “The ghost, I mean. Ever since the archaeologists took the corpse, it has felt different. Quiet.”

To be frank, you didn’t care about the ghost that much. You didn’t pay much attention to it when it was actively haunting the place, so when the shenanigans stopped, you didn’t even notice. Jaemin, however, instantly picked up on the shift in the atmosphere.

“Do you think the ghost could leave after it’s been properly buried?” Jaemin wondered, and you hummed. “I’m relieved. I’d feel bad if we sold the house with the ghost still being here.”

Why did you feel bitter? It’s a good thing you got rid of the ghost. It did leave on its own conditions. You didn’t need to use force to evict it.

Now, you had no excuse to prolong the inevitable. In two, maybe three days, the renovation would be finished. The turnkey house will be officially on the market.

“Yeah,” you murmured, not even trying to disguise your disappointment.

“What’s the matter?” Jaemin asked, looking at you with concern. You just weren’t the type to be brooding, so your current mood worried him. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I just – I like how things are right now,” you admitted, hiding your face in Jaemin’s chest. “I like living here with you. It’s fun and convenient. I don’t want change.”

“It’s natural to feel anxious, princess,” Jaemin started, caressing your side, drawing circular shapes on your skin. “Regardless of the place, I will be just as crazy for you. We’ll both move to the city. Big deal! Commuting will take us way less time, but everything else will stay the same,” Jaemin added, and you smiled, trusting him.

“Don’t forget I’ll be crazy rich,” you noticed, giggling.

Jaemin assured you that his feelings weren’t going to change, and you had no reason not to trust him. He showed it every chance he got.

“I will get my commission too,” Jaemin pointed out, smugly smiling. “But if you want me to become your sugar baby, we can talk about it.”

“I thought you wanted to return to the high-end apartments market.”

“I do, but I can treat it more like a non-demanding hobby. My sexy girlfriend will be putting all the bread we need on the table, so why should I bother?” Jaemin jested, attacking your neck with some kisses.

“You would make a hot housewife,” you remarked, making Jaemin playfully pinch your sides.

“Take that back!” Jaemin yelled, mercilessly tickling you. Although Jaemin acted offended, he didn’t mean that. Jaemin was hot, and he knew he would make a great housewife.

***

The moment you dreaded the most – the open house – finally approached. Jaemin put information on the estate agency and its website, on plenty of online groups for house hunters, and even uploaded short invitations video on TikTok.

Unexpectedly, the promotion managed to gather quite a crowd.

You were on the porch, greeting all potential customers with a bright smile. Once inside, Jaemin was waiting for them to give them a proper tour.

Jaemin shone.

You could tell he was in his element. It was the first time you saw his work performance, and you instantly realized how good at it he actually was. He was kind and charismatic. He provided potential customers with precise answers, showcasing his professionalism. Sometimes, he’d crack a joke even. There was no doubt he’d find a buyer by the end of the day.

“Long time no see,” you heard a familiar voice. Instantly, you smiled. “I know we’re only best friends, but I expected to get an invitation for the open house. I can’t believe I had to watch your TikTok to find out you’re giving away free cookies,” Renjun blabbered, but you only rolled your eyes before you turned around and gave him a bone-crashing hug.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you defended, squeezing your arms even tighter around his frame. “You’re here anyway. Do you want me to steal the cookie bowl? We could sit somewhere quiet and catch up.”

“You know me too well. That’s what I came here for – cookies and some good tea.”

“Give me a second,” you quickly said before you ran inside. Jaemin was busy giving a tour to a lovely couple in their mid-forties. He didn’t need your help, so you grabbed the cookies and marched outside without being noticed.

You offered Renjun to sit down at the gazebo. Now, the flowers and bushes around it were nicely trimmed, and the small fountain in the pond produced a calming pitter-patter. The atmosphere couldn’t get any better for some good ol’ gossip.

“Do you know when you’re coming back to the city?” Renjun asked, reaching for a cookie and stuffing his mouth with it.

“Probably at the end of the week,” you shrugged, not giving it much thought. There was no reason for you to stay here any longer, and besides, you got a business to co-run with Renjun. Although he had been doing great without your help, it wasn’t fair to dump all of the responsibilities on him. “Why? Did you miss me that much?”

“Not really,” Renjun said, lying through his teeth, trying to keep up appearances. “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to leave everything in your hands to have a honeymoon in this magical countryside mansion.”

“I’ve never – It’s not like – What do you even –“ you stuttered, your mind short-circuiting, unable to deliver a good comeback to Renjun’s accusations. You didn’t plan on meeting Jaemin nor falling for him when you arrived. It just happened. Naturally. And you did not appreciate the smug smirk Renjun used to tease you about it. “You know what? It doesn’t even deserve a comment. And you don’t deserve any time off.”

“No need to get defensive. I’m just messing with you,” Renjun laughed, munching on another sweet treat. “Anyway… he’s cute. And you look happy. Is it finally the end of your terrible luck? I don’t have any more patience to deal with the assholes you choose to date.”

It was adorable of Renjun to care so much about you. He was ready to fight anyone who’d dare to hurt you, and it warmed your heart. He really set the bar really high – as every best friend should.

“Funny story actually… you’re not gonna believe that,” you started, unsure how to rip that band-aid off. Renjun knew everything about that night Jaemin spent with you and how he ghosted you afterward. “That’s Jaemin.”

Renjun froze at the mention of Jaemin’s name. He knew where he had heard that name, but he needed a second for the information to click.

“No,” Renjun said, almost dropping his cookie that cracked in half when he squeezed it a little too hard. “You gotta be kidding me. Jaemin? That Jaemin?” He asked, and you nodded, sheepishly smiling.

“I mean… we cleared the air,” you started explaining, hoping Renjun would understand. “When you think about it, it’s never been that deep. We were basically strangers. Jaemin said he would call, but he didn’t. We talked about it, and he apologized. We moved on.”

“I trust your judgment,” Renjun proclaimed, and you smiled. Maybe it wasn’t a formal approval, but you were happy that Renjun didn’t openly oppose. You valued Renjun’s opinion. You had no idea what you would’ve done if he condemned your relationship with Jaemin. “I’m gonna kick his ass if he even thinks about hurting you.”

“I didn’t expect any less from you,” you teased, giving him a slight jab with your elbow. “Anyway… enough about Jaemin. How are you? How’s our company?”

“It’s difficult to run it by myself, but you’re coming back soon, so I should survive,” Renjun answered with a shrug. “New customers keep coming, but we can’t accept all of them with the resources we have. When you’re back in the office, we need to prioritize.”

“It’s crazy how much our company grew this year, isn’t it?” You said with a soft smile, reminiscing. Though it didn’t blow up, it solidified its position on the market, and now, it was a bit tricky to manage it by the two of you. “Actually, I was thinking.”

“Oh boy, now, I am scared,” Renjun snickered, and you jabbed his side. “Ouch.”

“Flipping that house reminded me how fun it is to get my hands dirty,” you started, taking a deep nostalgic sigh. “I love how much profit we make and how many people we help, but managing the company from the office is not nearly as fun as working on the site.”

“I hate how right you are,” Renjun admitted, having no other choice but to agree with you.

“I think it’s time we hire someone to help us with the paperwork.”

“I second that,” Renjun quickly agreed, loving your idea. Now, when you voiced your thoughts, he realized how tiring it was to oversee every part of the company. “We should look for a project manager or something. Let’s do that first thing you come to the office.”

“That’s exactly why you’re my best friend, Renjun,” you said, stuffing your mouth with a cookie. “We are on the same wavelength.”

“So… when are you going to give me a tour? After all, that’s what I came here for,” Renjun said, turning around, staring at the people coming in and out of the estate.

“Why don’t you come tomorrow? I’ll give you a private tour, hmm? As you can see, it’s still quite crowded now. I would hate if the people ruined the full experience for you.”

“You know I’m a sucker for special treatment.”

“Of course I do. We’re best friends.”

***

People kept coming until the late evening hours. Jaemin wasn’t tired at all. If anything, he seemed more and more energized after an encounter with another potential client. You tried your best to help and support him. He didn’t need it, but you were still on standby.

When Jaemin was touring the last couple, you mouthed that you would wait for him in the gazebo. Jaemin nodded his head and winked at you.

Smiling, you sneaked into the basement where you had installed a small pantry. Quickly, you grabbed the ice bucket and put a bottle of champagne in it. As it was the first open house, you and Jaemin wanted to celebrate a little.

Though it was a bit tricky to carry everything at once, you were a woman of many talents, so a bucket of ice, a bottle of champagne, two flute glasses, a pair of cake forks, and a lemon meringue cake were safe in your hands.

Carefully, you placed everything on the table under the gazebo roof. It was already dark, but when you switched on the outside lights, the scenery looked magical. The only thing that was missing was Jaemin, but you were sure he’d join you in no time.

“I don’t remember the last time I had such a crowd at an open house,” Jaemin started, startling you as he sneaked on the free space on the bench beside you. “My social battery is running low,” he added as he dropped his file on the table before he cuddled to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m so proud of you, Jaemin,” you confessed, gently rubbing his scalp.

“You haven’t even heard the best part,” Jaemin started, and you frowned in confusion, having no clue what he was getting at. “I got a call from my boss. Apparently, three couples already made offers. Neither of them lowballed, so I’ll be negotiating the best price for you. Also, if everything goes well, I will not only return but also be promoted to a partner. I can’t believe what’s going on right now. All the hardships paid off.”

“That’s fantastic news,” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. You didn’t care that much about money (as the asking price was more than enough for you), but knowing how much success Jaemin earned filled your heart with pride.

“Let’s pop that bottle,” Jaemin said after a while as the proper celebration was due. Impatiently, he grabbed the champagne and twisted it open, careful enough not to spill.

“To us,” you whispered as you gently clinked your glass against his. “I’m gonna miss this,” you added with a sigh, gazing into the distance. “We’ve made quite the memories here.”

“What do you even mean?” Jaemin asked in fake anger. “I’ll be with you at all times. And we’ll make new memories. Better ones!”

“I still kinda like the ones we already made,” you said matter-of-factly, resting your head on Jaemin’s shoulder, basking in the casual intimacy. You and Jaemin had lots of fun, and the fact that something romantic blossomed – it was just a great bonus. “So… what happens now?”

“My dad always liked to say that every man should plant a tree, build a house, and raise a son,” Jaemin started, and you glared at him, suspecting you weren’t going to like the turn the conversation was about to take. “Well… we planted multiple trees, check. Then, maybe not necessarily built, but we flipped it, kinda check, too. So the only thing left for us is to –

“I can’t believe I’m two-third of a man,” you interjected, hoping it would distract and/or stupefy Jaemin from continuing this topic. It was way too early to be thinking about kids.

“I’m just kidding,” Jaemin giggled as he snaked his arm around your frame and pulled you closer. “Let’s come back to that topic in a few years.”

“The best thing I can do right now is a pet,” you answered, letting a lighthearted titter.

“Even better,” Jaemin agreed, puckering his lips, waiting for you to give him a kiss. “Should we adopt a kitty? Or a puppy? Or both?”

“Eat your cake first,” you nagged as you reached for forks and handed him one. It was meringue, so you didn’t even bother cutting it into pieces. You weren’t a big dessert fan, unlike Jaemin, so you pushed the plate toward his side. Jaemin was stuffing his mouth with the sugary cake, you playing with his hair, admiring his handsome features.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Jaemin asked with his mouth full, turning to look at you. “Come here,” he urged as he stuck a piece of the cake on his fork and held it in front of your mouth, ready to feed you. You opened your mouth to tell him that you had already had some cookies, but before you got to say anything, Jaemin shut you up. “Good girl.”

“I hate you,” you said, chewing on the cake. You didn’t hate Jaemin. You just hated the way such casual flattery got you flustered.

“You don’t mean that,” Jaemin casually replied as he leaned in to kiss you, licking off the excess cream that stained the corner of your lips.

“You’re right. I don’t,” you agreed, heaving a sigh. “I’m pretty much in love with you,” you confessed with a goofy grin, feeling relieved. It was the first time any of you dropped the L-bomb, but it didn’t feel awkward, rushed or forced. You were truthful to your feelings. It just rolled off your tongue with ease. Naturally. Maybe Jaemin didn’t say it back yet, but his actions spoke louder than words – he felt the same way about you.

“I love you, too,” Jaemin professed, not missing a beat. Jaemin couldn’t keep his feelings to himself any longer. He felt that way for quite a while, and it blew his mind it took him so much time to openly say it out loud. He almost blurted it a few times before, but now, it was just a perfect moment for it.

You were grinning like an idiot, unable to contain your happiness. Your facial muscles started to hurt, but you just couldn’t stop yourself.

Slowly, you leaned to, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

“So… what do you wanna do tonight?” You asked, licking up your lips after you pulled away.

“It’s probably our last night here. We should do something fun,” Jaemin said in a pout, thinking of any propositions. “There are still some places I haven’t got to fuck you yet.”

“Really? I thought we defiled every inch of the house,” you added, genuinely surprised, especially when you weren’t one to overestimate.

“By the end of the night, we will,” Jaemin reassured you, offering you a smug wink. “This gazebo, for instance. It’s such an obvious place, yet you’re always overdressed when we’re here,” he boldly added, and you laughed loudly at your striking oversight.

“You’re so right,” you replied, mentally facepalming yourself. Swiftly, you downed your champagne flute, letting the bubbles tickle your throat. “We have no time to waste. Let’s go!”

“God, I love you so much.”

#jaemin smut #neohub #kvanity #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct u smut #jaemin fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #na jaemin #jaemin

1K notes · View notes

gingerbreadmonsters · 7 months

Text

something strange

or: who you gonna call?

gn!reader, warnings for mild innuendo and discussion of death, halloween hijinks except it’s literally spring, oopsie. hello, operator? there’s something weird, and it - well, it’s not looking great… it’s time for yet another weirdo DAMN crew AU! cheers as always to agent of the google docs surveillance state @zozo-01 who keeps figuring out when i’m working on this at 4am, and to all the gang on discord who have tolerated the frankly disturbingly-morbid questions that it’s prompted. please keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle - don't worry, we'll reattach those for you at the end of the ride. dear having a dose of a freaky ghost (or five) in just over 13,600 words.

Every day's a school day, or so you're told.

For most people, that's more of a figurative thing. For you, you've been going to school basically non-stop since you were three years old or something, so it's pretty literal.

It's not necessarily a bad thing, you suppose. Teaching at DAMN is pretty good, the faculty and students are nice enough, and it pays… well, it pays. More than your last job, though that's not really saying much, and enough to afford the mortgage on this new house you've moved into.

It’s weird. You’d heard nothing but terrible things about the housing market in California lately, and Dahlia was no exception - it still isn’t, if you’re honest. Rent is extortionate, but even that barely matters when there’s hardly anything available in the first place.

You'd been so surprised when you'd seen it online. A proper, two-bedroom detached house, with a garden and a garage and everything, going for a lot less than the - admittedly-few - other houses nearby. How had nobody snapped it up already? Pleasantly surprised, you'd called the estate agent to see about putting in an offer, and you'd barely been able to get the words out before she'd set you up with an appointment the next day.

She'd been… cagey, is probably the best way to put it. Reluctant to tell you why it was so cheap. She couldn't stall forever, though - you remember the resigned, slightly apologetic look on her face as she took a deep breath, before plastering on a grin and telling you what was going on.

Now then, she'd said. I know it's unpleasant, but I'm required by law to disclose to you that, within the last three years, a number of previous tenants sadly passed away on the property.

You’d certainly been surprised, but she’d clearly just wanted to get this conversation over with, and just breezed on. As far as we understand, none of the tenants were affiliated with each other, and only two of the deaths were directly caused by an issue with the property - some minor faulty wiring, and one of the older sections of the roof was damaged during a storm and collapsed unexpectedly. It’s since been repaired, though, so no need to worry!

Somehow, the worst part about that sentence wasn’t the news that someone had been crushed to death in the house you were trying to buy, but was instead the cheery smile with which she delivered the news, like she thought you’d be delighted. Are all real estate agents in California like this?

How many, exactly? Were there any before that? you’d asked, and she hadn’t quite been able to hide her grimace. And how did they die? Should I be concerned about the local area?

Unfortunately for her, you’d been reading up on the sorts of laws that estate agents like her have to follow in California. No matter what, they have to tell you if anyone died in the house in the last three years - but if you ask for more information about it, or about any other deaths from before then, they’re legally required to tell you the truth about that as well.

Well, I don’t mean to alarm you… Nervously, she’d clicked away on her computer for a few minutes, before turning back to you. The four tenants before you all passed away on the property - not under suspicious circumstances, of course. Just… you know. These things happen.

Yes, you’d said flatly. Obviously.

Three out of the four were accidental - one was the result of a fall, one was the aforementioned issue with the roof, and I believe the other was due to an electrical fault. The fourth was the most recent - an altercation with an intruder during a break-in - but we’ve been assured by the local police department that this sort of thing is highly unusual for the area, and is very unlikely to happen again.

As she spoke, you’d felt a horrible feeling of resignation settle in your stomach. Of course the one place you can actually afford to buy is the one where tenants keep dying inexplicably.

How old were they, would you say?

Some more clicking, and if her expression had been anything to go by, a spreadsheet that was loading a lot slower than it should. It looks like… yeah, it looks like most were in their mid-twenties, or thereabouts.

Perfect. Of course they were. Were they living alone?

She’d clearly been dreading the question, gritted teeth forced into a smile. I believe so, yes. The implied like you will be hangs heavy in the air between you, and her eyes dart momentarily back to her screen before flicking back to yours.

Great. Everything about it had been great. A new city, a new job, living alone in a literal, actual death trap of a house. What could possibly go wrong?

Well then, you’d said, crossing your fingers behind your back. I have a good feeling about this.

For the first few weeks, things had been more or less normal - you’d been a little on edge, but nothing especially deadly had happened to you. No wardrobes falling on you, no rugs pulled out from underneath you, no invisible gas leaking into your lungs. In fact, it had been a perfectly ordinary house. If you were more suspicious, you might even say it was too ordinary. But that would be a silly thing to say, and you’re not, so you don’t.

Just a normal person, moving into a normal house. What could be simpler?

The start of term is a blur, and all too soon you’re so caught up in the semester that you barely have the energy to drag yourself upstairs to bed when you get home, let alone worry about anything else. Introducing yourself to your new coworkers, meeting your new classes, sorting through lesson plans and worksheets and your stupid fucking institutional login, being reset for the fifth time in as many days because apparently the IT department here is just as overworked and underpaid as anywhere else and if you have to go and beg them to reset your password again you’re going to-

Wait, it’s nearly the end of the semester already? What?

Finals season at DAMN is a particularly vicious mistress, it seems, and you've been going out of your mind trying to stay on top of all your work. One of the other Water Elemental professors went on maternity leave a month into the semester, so you've been forced to take over her class for the rest of the year - and you can safely say that you're never doing this again.

Twice as many lectures, twice as many emails, twice as much chasing students for late assignments. Right now, basically your whole day is taken up with running practicals, and your evenings are nothing but marking, marking, marking.

Yeah. That’s all that happens in the evenings. You don’t have time to think about anything else at all, nothing whatsoever, because there’s nothing else to think about.

You don’t think about the odd sounds from downstairs while you’re trying to sleep, muffled whispers of what could almost be conversation, echoing quietly in the hallway. You don’t think about the fact that you definitely turned the TV off before you left the house, and how it definitely wasn’t turned to the news when you did. You especially don’t think about how the plants in the garden never seem to need watering, or how the shelves never seem to get dusty, or how the curtains in the living room always seem to be open in the morning, even though you’re sure you closed them before you went to bed.

The doors that open and close on their own - well, it’s just a bit draughty, isn’t it? The strange chill in the air that seems to linger in certain places in the house, no matter how much you turn up the heating - well, all these old houses have their quirks, don’t they? That faint, blurry figure that you could have sworn you saw ducking past you in the mirror, disappearing so quickly that it can’t have really been there at all - and when you turn, there’s nothing behind you but air…

Condensation on the mirror before you’ve even had your shower, the sweet scent of a perfume you don’t wear. You’re going out of your mind.

You’ve started spending more time at work, waking up even earlier than before and going home even later. Organising lesson plans, sorting through papers, picking up extra invigilation, desperate to spend as long as you can at the university - anything, to get you out of that house. Practically the only thing you do at home now is sleep, and even that’s not for very long before you’re dashing out the door again in the morning. You’ll get breakfast on the way. Maybe if you’re not there as often, whatever it is will just… go away?

Only that doesn’t happen - if anything, it’s the complete opposite. The whole place feels strangely uneasy now, like the house itself is on edge, watching you. Something in the corner of your eye, the feeling of something breathing that surely shouldn’t be able to. Something tense and creeping in the air, stretching and stretching, ready to snap.

Fitful dreams, sleepless nights, keys jangling in your hand. Is it still paranoia if your house is really haunted?

It all comes to a head on - well, to be honest, you’re not so sure what day it is. Wednesday, maybe? Thursday? Whatever the case, you’ve been running on practically empty for longer than you should have been, and you’re really starting to feel it now.

Head pounding, you shut your eyes as you lean over the coffee maker. One for now, and one in your flask for later - oh, and you’ve run out of energy drinks in your office, so you’ll have to get a few out of the fridge to take with you.

Stressed at work, stressed at home, and barely sleeping in between. You’ve been forced to live on barely anything but coffee and energy drinks for almost a week now, just to keep yourself upright, and you think… um, you think it might be…

Fuck, your head is spinning. Just a minute, and you’ll be fine. It’s fine. Your laptop’s upstairs by your bed, so you’ve just got to grab that, and then you can be off to work. Just - just wait for the walls to stop moving, alright? You’ll only be a second…

The coffee’s slightly too hot as you gulp it down, and you hiss as it burns your tongue, scorching the inside of your mouth - something cold, you want something cold, make it stop it hurts it hurts - cracking, fizzing, oh, that’s nice, it’s cold, it’s cold - wait, what is it?

Oh, that’s bad. You look down at the half-empty can in your hand, lovely and cold from the fridge, condensation dripping slowly down the metal. Oops. That can’t be good for you.

Now that you’ve opened it, you might as well finish it. You won’t be able to carry an open can with you and it’ll go all weird if you just leave it out. What a waste!

Sip by sip, you gradually empty the can. Why does your stomach feel so weird? That’s not fun. Wasn’t there something you were supposed to remember…?

Laptop, you need to get your laptop. Upstairs. Right.

Well, if your heart explodes, your heart explodes. Giggling to yourself as you stumble past the front door and up the stairs, you imagine the look on that stupid estate agent’s face when she realises what’s happened - shit, they’ll have to put the price down even further, won’t they? That’ll be a hell of a hard sell. Yeah, they all died in mysterious accidents, all very strange and creepy, no idea how it happened - oh, except the last one. That one died of coffee disease when their blood turned into caffeine and their brain caught fire. Tragic.

It’s all fine. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. Smiling, you grab your laptop case from the bedside table, ignoring the way your heart hammers against your ribs like it’s trying to fight its way out of you. Don't even think about it.

Don't think about the way you’re tripping over your own feet as you narrowly miss bumping into the bed, clinging to the doorframe to keep yourself upright. Don't think about the rushing, racing headache that's building in your skull as you drag yourself back down the corridor, that restless pressure in your chest that won't stop growing as you fumble for the bannister. Don't think about the dizzy, blurry world that shudders around you, the strange lightness in your mind as something gives way, the floor that suddenly isn't there beneath you-

STOP!

the horrible sound of your body as it falters and falls, the terrifying space under your feet where the stairs should be

I don't know, they just - I just - oh, God…

the aftertaste of adrenaline flooding through your blood, bitter and strange

Don't just fucking stand there!

as your heart chokes on its own frantic rhythm

Get out of - here, I can do it-

and there's somebody there

What are you even going to do?

and the world goes black

Don't ask.

and everything

disappears.

You don’t wake up for a while.

Shit, your head hurts.

Slowly, you start to feel something on your face, something cold and hard that’s pressing uncomfortably against your cheek. What is that?

You reach up, and - oh. It’s the floor.

Still too lightheaded to sit up, you gradually come back to consciousness in fits and starts, lazy thoughts swimming through your heavy head. You’re lying in the corridor on your side, staring at the skirting board - which is looking a bit grubby, now that you really look at it - and your laptop case is on the floor by the bedroom door a few feet away. The zip is open, and you can see about half of the actual laptop peeking out.

Thankfully, it looks okay. You’re not sure you could deal with having to buy a new one right now, especially with all the work you’ve got to-

Panicked, you jolt upright, one hand coming up to clutch at your skull as it feels like it’s on fire. You’ve got work!

Wait, what’s the time - how late are you? God, you really couldn’t have picked a worse time to fall down the fucking stairs, could you? You’ll have to call the office and tell them what’s happened, that you’re so, so, sorry, that if they can just get someone to cover your second period lecture you should be in by then…

Hold on.

Confused, you look down. Yeah, that’s what you thought - you’re sitting on the floor, sprawled out in the hallway and facing the wall. There’s nothing around you except your laptop case, and your bedroom door is open.

This isn’t right. How are you looking at your upstairs bedroom door, when you’re sure you fell down the stairs?

And that’s only the first thing - now that you really look, of course you’re not downstairs. The stairs go right down by the front door, but there are no shoes on the ground or coats hanging on the wall. Your laptop case must have been open when you dropped it, but the laptop itself is still inside - surely it would have fallen out when it slid down the stairs, or at least be in much worse shape than it is now?

You’re so confused by the whole thing that it doesn’t even occur to you that, besides the throbbing ache in your head, you’re not actually in any pain. Your heart has slowed back down to normal so you don’t feel quite so sick, and you can’t even feel any bruises or soreness from where you must have hit the ground. It’s as if you’d just… decided to lie down.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because you don’t notice it. You slowly pick yourself back up and stagger into your bedroom, reaching for the glass of water that sits on your bedside table, and the telltale fizzle of healing magic that was left on your tongue disappears without a trace.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. The ladies at the front office are very kind when you call to let them know you might be a bit late, but you hadn’t been unconscious for as long as you thought. You only end up missing half of the first period, after all, and even your headache gradually disappears over the course of the day.

The idea of going to the hospital does occur to you - you did lose consciousness, after all - but you decide against it. You feel fine, and it was probably just your body telling you to cut back on the caffeine for a little while. The winning combination of coffee and a can of whatever-it-was probably wasn’t the best idea on an empty stomach.

Ironically, if you had a student who this happened to, you’d probably have dragged them halfway to A&E yourself by now. Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Unfortunately, you can’t pretend that everything’s normal once you’ve finally arrived - your department head comes in at lunchtime to find you ankle deep in a pile of second-year practical write-ups, and all but kicks you out of your office so you can go home early and recover. For my sake, if anything, she says with a grin, although you know she’s only half-joking. Think of my reputation - I can’t let my newest lecturer spend more time here than I do, can I?

It’s certainly very kind of her, probably more so than you deserve, and before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously booted out of the building and onto the quad. Looks like it’s hometime, then.

The bus is warm, but not too crowded, so you’re lucky enough to get a seat by the window. There are worse things to do than watch the world go by on your way back home, and the nice view makes the trip go faster - in no time at all, you’re getting off again.

It’s so bizarre, going home in the middle of the day. Normally it’s long been dark by the time you get back, and everything looks so different in the light that you almost walk straight past your street entirely. Has the house on the opposite side of the road always had those flowers in the front garden? Or has it just always been too dark for you to notice them?

Fishing your keys out of your pocket, you have a horrible feeling that you don’t really know anything about this place. What really happens here in Dahlia? How much of it have you actually seen, that isn’t the inside of a university building?

Unsettled, you unlock the door and step inside, shutting the door behind you with a sigh. Home at last. You’ll have to-

I swear, if you-

Wait, was that the door?

Hold on. What was that sound…?

You listen for a second, but you can’t hear anything unusual. Huh. Must have been nothing.

In any case, now that you’re home, you’re really starting to feel that tiredness creeping in. With a sigh of relief, you toe your shoes off and leave them by the door, before sliding your bag off your shoulder and dropping your keys into th-

There’s no way. It’s, like, lunchtime or something, right?

Okay, this is really starting to get weird now. You could have sworn you heard someone, muffled and ever-so-quiet underneath the noise of your keys falling into the bowl that you normally keep them in.

Is there someone else here? There can’t be, surely. You peer around the hallway, looking for any sign that someone might have broken in, but you don’t see anything weird - although it’s not like you really know what you’d be looking for. The door was locked when you came in, and you know that when you left for work, all the windows were shut and the back door was locked too.

Besides, everyone said this part of the city was pretty safe, didn’t they?

(Okay, so the last tenant did die horribly when someone broke in a few months ago, but something, something, never strikes twice or whatever.)

Your aura flickers as you try to reach out and see if you can feel something there, but there’s nothing at all. No sign of anyone, empowered or otherwise, and nothing out of the ordinary happening with the ambient magic in the house.

To tell the truth, you’d been surprised at how strong it was when you moved in. At least one of the previous tenants must have been magical, and really powerful - this house is full of magic left behind, traces of a forgotten aura, echoing softly in the walls and floors. It happens to most places where empowered people live or work, so it’s not like you’re not used to it, but even so… wow. It’s very strong.

Gingerly, you creep across the hallway and nudge the door to the living room just slightly open, before holding your breath and peeking inside.

And… there’s nothing there.

Just your boring, ordinary living room.

You check all the other rooms just to make sure, but they’re exactly the same. Nothing out of place, everything just as you’d left it. Nothing missing, nothing moved, nothing weird at all. There’s no trace of an intruder, and you’re starting to feel a bit silly, really. Surely you’re just imagining things, right?

Well, that or you’re hearing voices. God, all that caffeine really has fucked you up.

Perhaps a nap might be in order, now that you think about it. Yeah, a nap would be good. You’re getting tired just thinking about it - falling asleep, not having to worry about anything, relaxing after all the bizarre things that have been happening to you today. It sounds wonderful.

Quickly, you change into your pyjamas and get into bed, getting a glass of water from the kitchen before you go upstairs - you briefly consider having a shower beforehand, but you’re too sleepy to bother. Your bed is warm and soft and quiet, and that’s what matters right now.

Oh, it’s so nice. No more headache, no more confusion. The duvet is thick and comfy as you pull it around you, and just like that, you’re asleep almost immediately.

While you’re sleeping, do you dream?

I don’t get it. Why come back so soon?

Maybe it’s a timetabling thing? For finals? Like, an exam got cancelled so they didn’t have to stay? But it really could be anything - it’s always a miserable time for everyone, even the staff, so who even knows what it was…

Yeah, that’s true.

Do you think it’ll be back to normal tomorrow?

We’ll just have to wait and see. Hopefully we don’t get another scare like earlier.

Oh my God, that was fucking terrifying… I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Again!

Is that what happened? I thought it - oh, yeah, I guess it sort of counts. But it’s not like anyone can see us, anyway, so it shouldn’t really matter.

Well… But, like, it’s still kind of stressful though, don’t you think?

A bit, I guess. But you could probably say we’ve had worse.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s fair enough.

…No, you probably don’t.

When you wake up, it’s nighttime, weak moonlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains and falling across the floor. Mm, it’s so nice and warm under the covers. What’s the time? Everything feels weird.

Blearily, you reach for your phone - it’s about eight o’clock. Shit. Has it really been that long? You’d only meant to be asleep for a few hours, not the whole rest of the day…

Ah, whatever. You must have needed it. And anyway, you can’t really be bothered to try and think about work now - whatever you were going to do, you’ll just deal with it tomorrow. Maybe you’ll go downstairs and have a little something for dinner, and then relax a bit more before going to bed properly.

You rub your eyes with one hand as you push yourself up to sitting, swinging your legs over the side of the bed with a groan. Getting up is the worst. The glass of water on your bedside table is nice, though, and you gulp down about half of it while you get used to being upright again.

…Is it just you, or can you hear something coming from the next room?

Nope, nope, you’re not doing this again - it was nothing last time, and it’s probably nothing again. You’re just a little bit on edge. Perfectly understandable. You’re going to get up and go out of your room, and walk over to the stairs. Then you’re going to go down the stairs, and go to the kitchen to make some dinner, and absolutely nothing strange is going to happen while you do it.

With that in mind, you stand up and walk towards the door with a lot more confidence than you feel, although it’s slightly undermined when you have to backtrack a few steps in because you forgot to pick up your phone. But with that in hand, you pull the bedroom door open and step out into the corridor, safe in the knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be-

“Ah!”

It’s not. Oh, fuck, it’s really, really not.

There’s a shadow in the corridor - your breath freezes as you see it, a paralysing chill slicing down your spine. Floorboards creaking quietly, the faintest sound of breathing. Something moving, just inside the doorway to the guest bedroom down the hall.

There’s someone else in the house.

The door is slightly open, letting you see just a tiny bit inside the room, and you stare in shock as you catch a glimpse of a definitely-there, definitely-real hand suddenly reaching out to grasp at the doorframe. Whoever it belongs to, the angle makes it look like they’re leaning against the wall - the hand trembles slightly as it clutches at the wood, clumsy and frantic, nails scratching at the paint.

Terrified, you’re frozen to the floor as the hand slips down a fraction, and the arm it’s attached to knocks the side of the door. The hinges creak faintly as the door slowly swings open, only to reveal-

“Mmm…”

Wait, what?

Okay, you realise that you screwed up with the whole caffeine thing earlier. And you’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks. And you just woke up from a nap. So all in all, you’re probably not operating at full capacity right now. But even so, even with all that going on, you have to admit that you really weren’t expecting to see a couple very enthusiastically making out against the wall of your guest bedroom.

The two of them are utterly lost in each other and totally ignoring you - in fact, it doesn’t even look like they’ve noticed you standing here at all. If your brain could stop bluescreening, you’d almost be offended.

The - um, demon? Is that really a demon? You’ve only ever seen a few from afar, mostly on campus, but the distinctive flavour of magic that soaks into your aura even from here is a dead giveaway - the demon presses himself against the human-looking one as he kisses them, horns knocking softly against the wall above their head as he leans over them. The human clings to his shoulders in return, and you watch as a hand that you now recognise slides down the demon’s chest to tug impatiently at the hem of his shirt.

They’re also both very, very hot. Woah.

(Look, it’s been a while, okay? And anyway, it’s just an observation. An idle, ordinary observation. It’s not your fault that they look… fuck, they look really good. Like, really good.)

The human sighs softly as the demon nudges their head to the side with the tip of his tail, kissing avidly across their jaw and down their throat. Are those fangs? Does he have fangs? Because it certainly looks like it from here - the human’s eyelids flutter as he nips sweetly at their skin, only for their gaze to fall on-

“Mm - mmm!” The human splutters as they finally notice you, eyes going wide and hands clutching frantically at the demon’s back as they try to nudge him away. Is it fear or surprise? “It - baby, baby, there - there’s s-”

“Yeah - mhm, I-”

The demon shushes them breathlessly, chasing their lips with a quiet whine, one arm locking tight around their middle to keep them close as his other hand cups the back of their head, presumably to protect them from hitting their head against the wall. “They can’t see, deviant, ‘s okay-”

“You - mm, fuck! - Gav, they’re right - they’re right there!”

Somewhat belatedly, you realise that you’ve just been kind of standing there and staring at these two - with a start, you stumble backwards a step and drop your gaze to the floorboards in embarrassment. Should you be embarrassed? You’re a little bit embarrassed.

(It’s kind of rude to stare at people who are making out. Although, it’s also kind of rude to break into someone else’s house and start making out against the wall while the owner of the house is trying to sleep in the next room, so maybe you’re even.)

You scramble hastily for words, half-formed syllables spilling out of your mouth, but you have no idea what to say - what can you say in a situation like this? How do you - what do you - where do you even begin?

Luckily, the demon speaks up before you can make too much of a fool of yourself - you notice that he’s stepped slightly in front of the human, tail coiling around their calf in a way that you can only describe as deeply, deliberately possessive. Does he think you’re going to… to do what? Hurt them?

“I suppose we ought to explain…?”

He sounds a bit surprised, which is unexpected, considering that this is the weirdest break-in on Earth, and also that this isn’t his house. Aren’t you the one who should be surprised?

“I think they’re in the living room,” says the human in a total non-sequitur, gently extricating themselves from the demon’s tail and backing away towards the end of the corridor. “I’ll go and get them.”

“No - no, we’ll come down,” the demon calls back to them as they disappear downstairs. “I think our new friend might want to sit down for this.”

You don’t really have a chance to protest, utterly lost in shock - numbly, you follow the demon as he beckons you over, with a smile that looks easy, but you’re sure it’s taking a lot more effort than he’d like.

“My name’s Gavin,” he says conversationally, gesturing towards the stairs. “Nice to meet you.”

He motions again towards the stairs, but you’re too dazed to really get what he means - with a good-natured sigh, he takes a step in front of you and starts walking backwards down the stairs, one hand drifting just slightly above the bannister as the other keeps urging you forwards. “And you might be…?”

Oh - oh, that’s what he wants! You wouldn’t say that the jumble of syllables that falls out of your mouth is exactly your name, but it’s close enough, and he nods in acquiescence.

“Well, then. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

There’s a funny sort of smile in his voice when he says that, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it might be. And anyway, what does he mean by finally?

The demon - Gavin, what a strange name for a demon, you’ll have to remember that - he turns when he gets to the bottom of the stairs, and you see that the door to the living room is open now. You can hear a sort of whispered argument going on in there, between what sounds like two or three people, but you can’t see wh-

“Um, yeah - yeah, I’ll just go and get something from the - fuck! - sorry, sorry, I’m just - oh my God!”

Totally stunned, all you can do is watch as a man comes hurrying out of the living room towards you, talking at lightning speed over his shoulder and almost tripping over Gavin’s tail before the demon whips it out of the way just in time. He stumbles forwards as he tries to get his balance back, grabbing the end of the bannister to keep himself upright - you catch a glimpse of something silver around his neck, tucked into his shirt, before you’re suddenly face-to-face with a very large pair of glasses, and the very flustered-looking man who’s right behind them.

(Oh, for the love of - did anyone break into your house who isn’t ridiculously pretty? What sort of home invader beauty pageant did these people all come from?)

“Shit.”

Both of you stare at each other for a confused second, unblinking, before the strange man jerks backwards away from you, hands fluttering awkwardly in the air as he starts to ramble.

“I mean, um, sorry! Not to, like, call you - not you, obviously - that would be rude, and - and I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just, you know…”

“Smooth,” murmurs Gavin behind him, leaning against the wall and not even trying to hide his grin. “Now do one of those pick-up lines we practised.”

The man shuts his eyes like he’s trying to stave off a headache, taking what’s clearly a blood-pressure-lowering deep breath. “Please, please fuck off.”

Gavin shrugs, blowing him an unapologetic kiss and waving at you with the tip of his tail, before disappearing through the door to the living room with a cackle.

“Whatever you say, Lasky!”

“Oh, not again-!”

He turns to you, almost pleadingly, and he looks so comically weary that you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. “It’s Lasko, not Lasky, he does this every time and I…”

“It’s - um, it’s alright,” you reply, and give him your nicest smile. “Nice to meet you, Lasko.”

He blinks owlishly at you for a second, like he’s not sure what to say, before smiling back at you. “Nice to… uh, nice to meet you too!”

Idly, you notice that his hand has come up to fiddle with the chain of his necklace, although the actual pendant is hidden under his shirt. It must be pretty sizeable, though, because you can just about see the shape of it through the material - a kind of sphere, or a round-ish chunk of some gemstone, maybe?

“I was just going to get some water for - well, for you, actually, just ‘cause Hux said he thought it might be nice? Like, obviously it’s a lot to get used to, and if you’re holding a drink then you don’t have to, um - you know, when you don’t know what to do with your hands? Or if you don’t know what to say, then you’ve got something to do, and anyway, it’s just kind of nice to… to, uh…”

Lasky - nope, Lasko, it’s Lasko - trails off, apparently only just noticing that he’s blocking the bottom of the stairs, and hurriedly sidesteps out of the way to let you past. “You can go in, by the way! I’ll just be a minute.”

Before you have a chance to say anything, he disappears off towards the kitchen, white ankle socks sliding slightly on the wooden floor, and all you can think is that you’ve never heard of a burglar who took off his shoes when he broke into the house.

Well, you might as well do what he says…?

Timidly, you creep up to the living room door and peer around the doorframe, dreading what you’ll find. These people all seem very nice, but what the hell are they doing here, anyway? Are they going to do something to you? How long have they been planning this? You couldn’t run, even if you tried - if they’ve got a demon on their side, you’d barely be able to get out the front door before they’d catch you again.

Being brave, you’ve got to be brave. Whatever they want, just give it to them, and maybe they’ll go away.

“Hey, uh… you okay?”

You jolt as another man pops into view, leaning into your field of vision from where he’s sitting on the sofa. He waves, and his smile is awfully sweet as he motions for you to come into the room.

“You can stay there if you want, but, like… it’s your house, right?” he laughs, not unkindly. “You can go wherever you like, dude, we won’t stop you.”

He sits back upright from where he was leaning over as you walk nervously into the room, and you notice that there’s another man sitting next to him on the sofa. It’s hard to tell, seeing as they’re sitting down, but this one looks slightly shorter than the first, flicking his dark hair out of his face and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

(Fucking hell, they’re literally all so beautiful. Do the cast of Vogue normally spend their free time breaking and entering, or are you just really lucky?)

“Damien,” the shorter man says, standing up and walking around the coffee table with one hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Well, he’s certainly cutting to the chase, isn’t he? Fair enough. You introduce yourself in turn as you shake his hand, but you can’t help but think there’s something… something odd about the feeling of his skin. He’s not cold, per se, but it’s something like that - a strange feeling that runs down your spine like ice water, like your mind can’t place it but your body instinctively knows that something isn’t quite right.

In any case, he sits back down and the man next to him lifts a hand in greeting, looking slightly embarrassed that Damien beat him to the punch.

“Ah, I’m Huxley,” he says, “but Hux is fine, if that’s better for you.”

Damien rolls his eyes with unmistakable fondness, which is a bizarre choice for a home invader. “You can just say which one you prefer, you know. It’s your name.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Huxley shrugs, and you can tell they’ve had this conversation a thousand times. “I don’t really mind, you know? Like, whichever one you say, I still know what you mean, ‘cause it’s all still me. And anyway, if I changed my mind, I’d just say later.”

He grins, sharp and painfully handsome, and turns his head to look past Damien over to the loveseat, where you belatedly realise Gavin and his human, um, friend from before are sprawled out across the cushions.

“Besides, I feel like there’s worse culprits, y’know?”

Damien drops his head in his hands. “Don’t even get me started on Freelancer.”

Apparently-Freelancer lifts a lazy middle finger in his direction. “It gets the point across, doesn’t it?”

“There’s got to be more to a name than just gets the point across,” he moans. “Just because you happen to be a Freelancer doesn't mean that's all you are.”

They huff, turning their face away haughtily. “It’s a name if I say it's a name.”

“It's literally a nickname! You have a different name! That we know and also call you!”

Freelancer’s eyes narrow wickedly. “Want me to choose a different nickname?”

Gavin lifts his head interestedly from where he’s draped across their lap. “I might have some suggestions-”

“No!” shrieks Damien, and the temperature in the room unexpectedly spikes as he flops backwards against the sofa cushions, decidedly not looking over at the loveseat. “God, no, we already hear enough of those when you’re-”

“Jesus,” Lasko mutters as he comes in through the door behind you, silently passing you a glass of water and motioning for you to sit down in the one empty armchair that's opposite the sofa. “Sorry about them. It happens a lot.”

You nod noncommittally as you sit down, watching it all with a sort of vague detachment as he goes to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Huxley. The three of them are facing you across the coffee table, with Gavin and Freelancer occupying the loveseat on the right, and something about the way they’re all looking at you is strangely… interrogative? Like you’re here for the world’s weirdest job interview or something - like they’re trying to get the measure of you.

It’s quite awkward, to be honest. You take a sip of your water, feeling oddly grateful for Lasko’s foresight about not having to wonder what to do with your hands.

“Okay, look.”

Damien breaks the ice, leaning forward slightly as he looks seriously at you. “This is going to sound kind of - kind of unusual. And we get that. But it’s true, and you deserve to know, so we’ll just… we’ll just say it, I guess.”

He takes a deep breath. Huxley quietly holds out his hand, palm up, and Damien takes it.

“When you bought this place, they told you about the previous owners, right?”

You nod, remembering that uncomfortable meeting with the estate agent. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re, um…” Damien’s gaze slides to the side, uncomfortable, before returning to you. “You’re looking at them, I’m afraid.”

Sorry, you’re what?

He gives you a second to process that, not that a second is nearly enough, and carries on. “All of us owned this house before you. Whenever they said anything about previous occupants, or ex-tenants, or whatever bullshit word they used - they were talking about us.”

“You’re joking,” you manage to force out, incredulous. “But you - she said you - she said-”

“That we died?” says Gavin, with a grim smile. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No. No, no - that’s impossible!”

Your mind reels in confusion at this utterly bizarre story, trying to make sense of it all. So what - so they’re all dead, then? Like, ghosts or something? That can’t be right - the closest thing you’ve ever heard of to that were Shades, and they definitely aren’t Shades.

There’s no magic in the world that can reanimate the dead. For as long as humans have had magic, they’ve tried and tried, but it just doesn’t work. So what the hell are these people playing at?

(And anyway, didn’t the woman at the estate agency say there were four ex-tenants? How can there suddenly be five of them?)

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re joking. This has to be a joke.”

“I said the same thing,” Lasko says mournfully, looking down at the floor. “If it is a joke, it looks like it’s on us.”

“You’re magical, right?”

Freelancer’s voice is quiet, but something about it is strangely urgent. “You can feel other people’s auras, can’t you?”

“Yes…?” you reply, unsure of what they’re getting at. “What about it?”

“We are, too,” they say, and a flame dances to life in their palm. “So shouldn’t you be able to feel us?”

Reflexively, your aura ripples around you as you search for what you know must be right in front of you - they’re doing magic right now, so surely you’ll be able to feel something…?

Nothing. Not them, not anyone else. It’s as if nobody’s there at all - only that insistent thrum of magic that flows through the bones of this house, that you remember thinking was unusually strong. Those noises you couldn’t explain, things in strange places that shouldn’t have been able to move. You’ve never had to water the plants once.

Was this what that feeling was all along? Were they what you were feeling?

You don’t know what to say. This shouldn’t be possible.

“I don’t get it,” you mumble, feeling awfully small and scared. “I don’t - I don’t understand.”

“Then we’ll explain it a different way,” says Huxley, with so much patience that you could almost cry. “Is that cool with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He starts to stand up like he’s going to come over to you, but there’s not really any room on the chair next to you, so he just sort of awkwardly sits back down again. “Okay, we’ll start from the beginning. Lasko?”

Lasko waves, an awkward little half-gesture. “Hi.”

You take another sip of your water - it’s slightly lukewarm now, but it’s still comforting.

“I was - well, I was first,” he says, trembling fingers tugging at his necklace chain again. “I used to work at DAMN, like you, and I ended up renting this place - I remember thinking it was unusually cheap, but I needed somewhere to live, right?”

He laughs, slightly shakily. “I guess it must have been a problem with the electrics, or something, ‘cause I’m sure it wasn’t me. But I was in the, um - I was in the bath, and I remember the lights flickering like there was a storm, or something? It felt odd, like something in the air, and there must have been a power surge…”

A horrible feeling blossoms in the pit of your stomach when you realise what he’s saying - he must see it on your face, shrugging sheepishly. “I don’t really know how it actually happened…? I mean, I think it was a heart attack, or it stopped my heart or something like that, but I - I guess I normally just say I got electrocuted. It’s - uh, I mean, I don’t have to explain it a lot, but it’s easier than saying the whole thing, I think.”

Dimly, you recall the estate agent’s voice in your head. An electrical fault.

“Afterwards, the rental company didn’t want the place anymore,” Lasko says, surprisingly cheerily. “You can’t really blame them, though.”

“I think you can,” grumbles Freelancer. “They did kill you.”

Lasko shrugs. “How were they supposed to know?”

“They sold you a house that zapped you to death!”

“They rented me a house that zapped me to death,” Lasko fires back, waving a hand in Freelancer’s direction as they stick their tongue out at him. “It’s probably different.”

Damien rolls his eyes - you’re getting the distinct impression he does that a lot - and elbows Huxley lightly in the side. “For the love of God, please distract them.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, and turns to you. “I used to be a student at DAMN, and I needed somewhere to live after the semester ended, right? Like, my lease was up, and I didn't really know what I was gonna do - you know what it's like.”

“You were at DAMN?” you ask, surprised. “What were you studying?”

“Oh, uh, Earth Elemental Studies,” Huxley replies, with a melancholy smile. “I had a teaching gig lined up for after graduation, but… you know.”

He gestures down at himself and shrugs. Lasko looks away.

“I ended up renting this place after Lasko had his, uh, accident - they said everything had been fixed, but I guess they didn't get it all…? The weather in Dahlia isn't normally so bad, so I must've just been unlucky with the storm. You know how the ceiling in the kitchen is a different colour to the walls? Like it's been repaired recently?”

Oh, you have a bad feeling about this. “Yeah.”

He grimaces. “It, uh… well, it wasn't like that before I moved in.”

Fucking hell. When she said there has been an issue with the roof she’d been putting it mildly.

Huxley must see your horrified expression, quickly cutting back in. “Don’t worry about it, dude - it didn't hurt that bad, not for long. It was pretty quick, when you think about it.”

“I mean, most people don't like thinking about it at all,” Damien murmurs under his breath. “We’re not exactly in the majority here.”

Huxley tips his head to the side in acquiescence. “It was a while ago. Gotta get over this kind of shit eventually.”

Gavin’s jaw drops. “You're over it?”

“Well, no…” he replies. “But it'll probably happen at some point, yeah?”

Freelancer, half-buried underneath their human-blanket (demon-blanket?) over on the loveseat, blinks in apparent wonder. “Hux, you're my hero.”

Huxley grins. “Don't let Gav hear you saying that.”

“Oh, he's not listening,” they scoff, tipping Gavin’s face up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you, darling?”

Gavin shakes his head, eyes closed and wearing a wide, lazy smile. “Didn't hear a thing.”

Damien sighs fondly at their antics, gaze all soft and sticky, before turning back to you. “In any case, I was the next one. Moved in a few weeks after the storm, when they said everything was fixed. When they were telling you about us, did anyone mention a fall?”

You’d been kind of preoccupied by the more unusual deaths, so you don't really remember if the lady did or not, but it sounds about right. “I think so…?”

“Then there's not much more to say.”

He shifts slightly in his seat. “I was rushing, and I slipped - it's my own fault, really. I’d overslept and I thought I was going to be late for a lecture, so I wasn't really looking where I was going. You know how slippery the stairs can get.”

You wince. “They’re pretty bad, yeah.”

“You'd have thought they'd at least put some carpet down or something after I died, but apparently not,” Damien grumbles. “First they had to dig Hux out from under whatever cheap roofing shit they had before, then five minutes later we were all watching some poor contractor scrubbing my goddamned blood out of the floorboards, because it would have been too fucking expensive to replace it all - do they just like having to scrape their tenants off the floor, or something? Because that's what would have happened to you earlier if we hadn't done anything, for fuck’s sake…”

He looks up sharply when he says that, like he's just remembered something. “Oh, um - yeah, that was us. Sorry about that. But also, like, the espresso-Monster thing you drank probably wasn’t the best breakfast.”

This morning. All those things that didn't add up. Falling down the stairs, and landing at the top of them. That was them?

“How did it…” You're not quite sure how to put it. “How did you do it?”

“Oh, you can thank Lasko for that,” he replies. “He managed to slow you down enough that Gavin was able to heal you without anything being too serious.”

You look over at Lasko, nervously waving his hands in front of his face like it’ll ward off any sort of thanks. “It was just luck, that's all! I just, you know - I was in the right place at the right time, and I - well, the whole air thing is kind of easy for me, so it wasn't even that complicated or anything - I mean, not that it wasn't important, obviously, but-”

“Lasko.”

“Yes?”

You smile. “Thank you.”

Nervously, he smiles back, with an charmingly-awkward little thumbs up. “Not, uh, no problem.”

“If you’re trying to join us, you’ll have to try harder than that,” Damien quips, blackly. “Dying like that isn't fun, believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say. “Next time, I’ll just let the caffeine poison me all by itself.”

He nods approvingly, the hint of a held-back smile brightening his handsome face. “See, now you’re getting it.”

Idly, you lift the glass to your mouth, only to realise that - wait, it’s empty? No, it can’t be. When did you drink all of that? How bizarre. Hearing about people dying must be thirsty work. Quietly, you put it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Freelancer.”

“Mm?” Freelancer looks up, distracted from whatever sweet nothings Gavin seems to be mumbling into their neck. “What?”

Damien tips his head slightly in your direction. “You’re up to bat, I’m afraid.”

“Already? That was quick.” With a little bit of fidgeting, they push themselves up to sit facing you, one hand holding Gavin’s, and the other around his back as he sits sideways with his legs across their lap.

“So, it’s… it’s not the nicest thing,” they say, eyes darting away before sliding back to meet yours. “And it probably isn’t going to make a huge amount of sense, just ‘cause when the - actually, that reminds me - did they say something about a break-in? And - and a trespasser?”

The most recent. Altercation with an intruder. Highly unusual. Shouldn’t happen again.

You look down. “They did, yeah.”

“Well, it’s mostly true,” Freelancer says, “although it’s not the full thing. The unempowered police had to come and investigate, and that was the best they could come up with, so that’s what the estate agent will have told you.”

“Was it magical, then?” you ask, slightly hesitantly.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” they reply hesitantly. “I’d only just moved here to come to DAMN. I was humanborn, so I didn’t really know a whole lot about magic, but I had a - well, there was an… uh…”

Nervously, they look at Gavin - he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and they swallow.

“I heard about DAMN from a friend, so I thought it would be good to come and try and learn some, like, actual magic, right? And Gavin and I met here, just after I moved - it’s kind of a long story, but he ended up basically moving in here as well after a while. So that’s why we - well, that’s how we’re, uh, here. Together.”

Their leg bounces as they tap their heel against the floor, over and over. You’re not getting the feeling that this story is going to end well.

“There was a… a problem,” they mumble, after a little pause. “A friend of ours was being chased by a demon - a different demon, a really strong one, who we didn’t know. He was hurt, so he came here for help - but the demon chasing him followed him here.”

Attacked? By a demon? God, what sort of city is this? If this is the sort of thing that’s happening here, maybe it’s not such a bad thing that you don’t go out much.

Freelancer continues, gaze now fixed firmly on their feet. “He attacked us - and our friend. There was no time to do anything, so we - we did what we could, but…”

Gavin’s tail wraps and unwraps around Freelancer’s wrist, winding around their arm first one way, then the other.

“This demon, he was… powerful,” he says, carefully. “He was old - much older than me, and it wasn’t exactly like we could have seen him coming. We were lucky to do as much as we did.”

Silently, Lasko picks up your glass from the coffee table, and walks out of the living room.

“Our friend got away, at least,” Freelancer says, through what you think is meant to be a smile. “And we did sort-of win - Gavin managed to knock him out, and took him to the Department. He’s probably in a prison somewhere, now.”

So… they won? But then how are they…?

Freelancer must see the question written across your face. “By the time Gavin got him, I’d already, um… you know. The old coffee table in here was pretty heavy, and when it hit me, it was kind of, uh - yeah. It wasn’t great.”

The thought of it turns your blood to ice. They died in here? This room? The same room you’re in right now, where they’re sitting on the loveseat like it’s nothing - this room? How can they even stand to be in here like this, after everything that’s happened?

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you manage to say, painfully aware of how hollow it must sound. “That must have been awful.”

Strangely enough, they shake their head. “Gavin got the worst of it. The rift, when he came back…”

They trail off into silence, and Gavin doesn’t say anything either. Frozen in place, unmoving - like this, they could almost be stone. Alive and undead. Sobbing but never crying, rainwater dripping down the marble.

“When we died, we became… this.”

You look over at Huxley, speaking softly. “We can’t be seen by living people, and we can’t leave this place. Touching objects - like, physical stuff like doors and books and water - it takes more effort, but it’s still okay. We can still do most magic, too, but it’s not as easy as it used to be.”

You nod, slightly confused. Why is he telling you this now…?

“It happens pretty quickly,” he adds, “the whole transformation, resurrection, whatever. But it… well. Yeah.”

“It doesn’t take much to kill a human.”

Gavin’s voice is raw and venomous, glaring at the floor, fangs bared in a bitter snarl.

“Demons last a little bit longer.”

In your mind’s eye, the horrifying scene unfolds. A human body, shattered and bloody, lifted gently from the wreckage and cradled in the fading arms of a dying demon. Gavin, tears streaming down his crumbling face, clutching the corpse of his human lover - no magic left, an immortal being surrendering to an impossible death. Freelancer, imprisoned in the silent space between sleeping and waking, screaming in terror yet doomed to go unheard. Forced to watch as Gavin’s form falters and dissolves, scattered back into the nothingness of stardust.

Of course. Five deaths, four tenants. No body left to bury.

There’s nothing you can say to that. Nothing at all.

Behind you, Lasko comes back in from the kitchen, passing you a refilled glass of water before walking back over to the sofa. It’s freezing cold in your hand, and you can’t help but shiver involuntarily.

“Ow!”

Startled, all of your heads snap towards Lasko - he’s tripped over the stack of papers that you were marking last night, catching himself on the side of the loveseat and accidentally smacking face-first into Gavin’s shoulder. Freelancer jerks backwards out of the way as he hisses in surprise, jolting forwards with the unexpected weight against his back, and Damien bursts into laughter as Lasko stutters his way through a flustered apology, wrenching himself back upright and scurrying off to the sofa to hide behind Huxley.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry! I didn’t see it - I just tripped, and oh, I didn’t mean to hit you - are you okay? Like, I didn’t hurt you, did I? God, I don’t know how I forgot it was there - and your back, are you-”

“If you want to get your hands on me, you can just ask,” Gavin purrs over the top of him, rubbing his shoulder blade where Lasko’s face presumably impacted with the flat spade of his tail. “And yes, I’m fine, thank you. Unless you wanted to kiss it better?”

Lasko’s breath visibly stops, the poor thing, as Gavin fixes him with a smirk so ridiculously charming that you almost can’t tear your eyes away. Fuck, he’s so beautiful, wicked gaze dragging slowly down the length of Lasko’s body, painted claws catching the light as they just barely start to flirt with the hem of Freelancer’s shirt…

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Huxley trying not to laugh as Lasko peeks out from over his shoulder. “Keep it together there, Gav. We’ve got an audience, y’know.”

Lasko buries his face in his hands. “Please, God, don’t-”

“Oh, Hux,” Gavin sighs plaintively, although the impish smile across his face gives him away. “Why do you think I offered?”

A quiet rustle of fabric, and underneath him, Freelancer lets out a long, slow breath that you hadn’t noticed they were holding. You, um… you can’t see the end of Gavin’s tail any more, and you’re not entirely sure if you want to know where it is.

“I’m so sorry,” Damien groans, flinging a stray sofa cushion at Gavin’s head as he gives you an apologetic look, ignoring the confused squawking from the loveseat when it accidentally hits Freelancer in the shoulder and ricochets into Gavin’s face. “You’re all dead to me.”

Huxley pats him on the shoulder. “We’re dead to everyone, babe.”

“Not helping.”

“Love you too.”

“That was so rude!” comes a gasp from your right. Amused, you look over to find an outraged Gavin, holding up the projectile cushion in one clawed hand, eyes narrowed sulkily at Damien for ruining the fun. “Don’t you think, deviant?”

Freelancer nods sagely. “Very rude.”

“He didn’t even let us finish! We could have been doing something entirely innocent.”

“We’re so nice to him, and he’s always so mean to us.”

“Spoiling our fun.”

“Getting in our way.”

“Getting in our bed-”

“Will you two stop it!” Damien hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Gavin when the demon actually hisses back at him. “I wouldn’t have to be rude if you two would stop being so - so… lascivious!”

Freelancer grins, eyes scrunched up into happy little half-moons and arms wrapped possessively around Gavin’s waist. “He thinks we’re lascivious.”

“What about tea?” interrupts Lasko, standing up suddenly and motioning behind his back for you to follow him. “We’ll have tea, that’ll be nice, does anyone want some? Good, okay, we’ll just go and make the - the, um - we’ll just go, won’t be long, back in a minute-”

You’re not sure if ghosts can get high blood pressure, but you say a silent prayer for whatever nightmare must be going on in Damien’s undead arteries. Huxley jokingly salutes the pair of you as you scramble after Lasko - shaky hands all but push you out of the door, and he pulls it swiftly shut behind him with a decisive psychokinetic flourish, muffling the enthusiastic bickering inside.

It's finally quiet again.

Just you and Lasko.

“Is it always like this?”

He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the door, laughing weakly. “Basically, yeah.”

Well. Considering everything that could have gone wrong with finding out that your house is haunted and practically infested with the undead, at least the ghosts that you've got are fun ghosts.

“Kind of you to volunteer my tea for everyone,” you say breezily, motioning for Lasko to follow you into the kitchen and stifling your smile when his face turns to almost comical panic. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Are - are you sure?” He wrings his hands as he trails after you, teeth digging into his bottom lip in a way that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. “Sorry, I just - we’d be there all day otherwise, and I just wanted to distract them for a bit, but I didn’t really think about it, you know, and…”

He takes a slow, deep breath, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. “I mean, uh, thank you.”

The kettle’s empty, so you go to fill it up at the sink while Lasko silently gets some mugs out of the cupboard, along with a handful of teaspoons and some teabags.

Too silently, in fact.

“Tea’s in the right hand drawer, by the way.”

Lasko freezes guiltily as you say it, wrist deep in the box of Earl Grey. “You know. Because I didn’t tell you, so there’s no way you could have known.”

He winces. “Sorry…”

“I mean, it’s not the worst thing you could be looking at.” You’re not actually that angry, all things considered, but it needs to be said. “Do I need a ghost-proof shower curtain, too?”

“What? No - God, no!” he stammers, seemingly horrified by the implication. “I swear none of us would do anything like that - we would never! We have never! No, that’d be - no!”

He shakes his head emphatically, nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. “We don’t go into the bathroom when you’re there, and your bedroom is always off-limits. Promise. You can ask the others.”

“I should hope so.” Next to you, the kettle starts to steam, although it’s not quite hot enough yet. “Am I - wait, you were the first one, right?”

He nods, quietly shuffling through the tea drawer again. “Yeah.”

“Could the others see you… before? Like me?” you ask, walking over to the fridge. “Milk?”

“If that’s okay.”

Without looking, you reach in and grab the carton, before putting it down on the counter next to him. “I just don’t understand. How come I can see you now, but I couldn’t before?”

“That’s what we were talking about before you came in,” he replies. “Hux thinks it’s something to do with this morning - like, that you had some sort of near-death experience? And then that means you can see us, because we’re dead and you were nearly-dead…? I don’t know, it’s a work in progress.”

Wait, so does that mean you actually did poison yourself this morning? Or is he talking about falling down the stairs? Of course you’d accidentally manage to find a way to nearly kick the bucket twice in a single day. What a liability they all must think you are…

“The others couldn’t see like you do,” Lasko continues, oblivious to your spiralling. “Not until they were already gone. You’re the first one who’s been able to see us while you were still - actually, um, that reminds me…”

The kettle clicks, having boiled. He reaches over to get it, but you wave him away, picking it up and moving to fill up the collection of mugs - and, oddly, an entire teapot that you’re sure you’ve never seen before - he’s arranged on the countertop.

“If you wanted to leave now that you’ve heard all of - uh, all of this… well, we wouldn’t be upset. We’re not gonna, like, make you stay here or anything.”

Confused, you frown down at the mug in front of you. “What do you mean?”

“You know, ah…” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him fiddling with his necklace again. “We’re not the luckiest people in the world. None of us lasted very long in this house - and the whole ‘being undead’ thing isn’t really something we understand. Like, why us? What did we ever do? Is it the house? Is it us? Is it, like, destiny or fate or something - because it kind of brings up a whole new set of problems about the existence of life after death - and, you know, are we the only ghosts in the world, and if so then why, or are there others? Does this happen to everyone, and living people just can’t see them? We wouldn’t blame you for wanting to get out before, you know…”

You put the kettle back on the stand. It doesn’t look like he’s going to stop for breath any time soon.

“Not that we’re going to like, do something to you! No, no, that’s - I didn’t mean we were going to kill you or anything - oh, fuck, now it just sounds like we were going to do something and now I’ve put the fucking idea in your head, and now you’re going to be all stressed about it, and, like, ‘is it cursed?’ - and it’s not cursed, I think, but we don’t know for sure because even though curses aren’t a thing like unempowered people say, none of us have been able to figure out if there’s any, uh - any magic that might be like a curse, right?

“Lasko.”

“Just, you know, magic is so unpredictable and there’s so much we don’t know, so maybe it is cursed but we just can’t recognise it because we don’t know what we’re even looking for, and Gavin’s been trying to come up with ideas, but it’s been really difficult ‘cause we didn’t want to use your computer or anything, that’s a huge breach of privacy, right? And - and we can’t leave the house to go and talk to anyone - well, really it’s the property, so we can still go out in the garden and stuff - which reminds me, I was meant to tell you about-”

“Lasko!”

You can practically see the words falling out of his mouth before he cuts himself off, the poor thing. “Mm-hmm?”

“The tea,” you say calmly, stepping back from the counter to give him room. “I don’t know how they like it.”

“Oh, right! Yeah, I’ll, um - I can do that.”

He starts sorting out the different mugs, taking teabags out of some sooner than others, adding milk and sugar and what-have-you, leaving one to the side for you and nervously chattering away.

“I’ll never understand how Gavin and Hux have it so sweet - although, I think Gavin’s like that with everything, you know? He says it’s just because he likes the taste, but Damien told me - um, you shouldn’t say I said this, but he thinks when Gavin gave himself a human form - ‘cause demons don’t have physical bodies normally, right? Well, Damien thinks he accidentally got his body addicted to sugar or something like that, because - oh, I don't know, something, something, pleasure centres or pleasure receptors, whatever - it probably lit up a similar part of his brain to the bit that he associated with eating, and being full - wait, did he say he was an incubus? Because he is, he definitely is - oh, we probably should have mentioned that…”

Slowly, Lasko’s voice settles into the back of your mind as you make your tea, head too full of everything else he’s said to really be listening. It’s not on purpose. You’ve just got a lot to think about.

Yes, he makes a good point about the house, and the strange coincidences that have happened here. Yes, he makes a good point about what might happen to you if you choose to stay. Yes, he makes a good point about how you’ll have to actually accept the undeniable proof of the existence of life after death, and everything that means for your worldview.

Looking up, your eyes are drawn to the faint line where the ceiling and the wall meet, and the two shades of paint that don’t quite match.

Wow. In about an hour, this is going to be a magnificent existential crisis.

But those aren’t problems for now, are they? If you try and deal with all of this at once, you’re fairly sure your head is going to explode just thinking about it. All of this, all of the fucked-up undead weirdness that’s just fallen into your lap out of thin air - all of it can wait.

First, tea.

Lasko seems to have sorted out all the different cups of tea, stirring a final spoonful of sugar into the one second from the right with one hand. Luckily, he’s picked cups that are all different colours, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too hard to stop them getting mixed up.

“That one’s for Hux, then Damien’s is the jasmine, then the middle one is for Freelancer. Gavin’s is the penguin one, and then this one is for me.”

He points at them from left to right, explaining whose they are as you get a tray out of the cupboard and put it down on the counter. You’re just about to start transferring everything onto it when - oh, that’s what’s missing!

Lasko takes over, looking confused as you suddenly turn on your heel and start rifling through the cupboard by the microwave. “Are you… okay?”

“Just a second…” Where are they? You could have sworn they were just… ah, there they are. You’ll have to get some more at the supermarket when you go next. “Do you think they’ll want plates?”

Lasko’s face brightens when he sees what you’re holding, and it belatedly occurs to you that he probably hasn’t eaten much since - well, since everything. If the owner of the house can’t see you, then they’re not going to give you anything, and if you can’t leave the house, you can’t buy anything yourself. If he’s a demon, then maybe Gavin could magic something up, but didn’t Huxley say that doing magic was harder for all of them then it used to be? What’s the limit?

Besides, even if ghosts probably don’t need to eat, that doesn’t mean that they can’t, right? It might not be necessary, but it might still be nice.

“Mm, probably not,” Lasko muses, but he gets a few out of the cupboard anyway as you open the packet of biscuits and put it down on the tray next to Freelancer’s tea. “I don’t think they’ll, uh, last that long.”

He moves the penguin mug slightly to make room for the teapot and an empty cup - oh, that must be the jasmine tea he was talking about. But where did he…?

“Damien used to have one like this.”

Lasko’s voice is quiet, presumably having noticed you staring in confusion at the tray. “It got taken away with all his things when Freelancer moved in, but Gavin made him a new one. The cup, too. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough.”

He looks away, eyes closed. There’s not really anything you can say to that.

“If there’s…”

As you speak, you can hear the faintest sound of laughter from the other room. Presumably they’ve kissed and made up, in what you get the feeling isn’t always an entirely metaphorical sense. “If there’s anything I can get you, then you just need to ask. Anything.”

Lasko smiles down at the tray, and you don’t look at how his eyes are a little bit shinier than they were a minute ago. “Thanks.”

“Come on, then,” you say with a smile, nudging him out of the way and picking up the tray. “It’ll be stone cold in a minute, if we’re not careful.”

Lasko protests, fluttering around beside you as you head back towards the living room, insisting that he doesn’t want to be rude, please please please let him carry it, it was his idea and now you’re doing all the work, oh he’s so sorry - but you don’t let him. It’s a bit heavy, but it’s not that bad, and didn’t one of them say that it’s harder to interact with physical objects now than it was when they were alive? You don’t know exactly how much harder, but you’d feel kind of bad if you made Lasko hold all the stuff when it’s not as easy for him.

Darting ahead of you down the corridor, he opens the living room door for you, and you - well, you were going to put it down on the coffee table in the middle, but it’s not actually there anymore. Instead, it’s been pushed out of the way towards the window, to make space for the sofa to be tilted a little bit more towards the TV.

Lasko, the bastard, takes advantage of your momentary surprise. You’re going to have to ask if he’s an Air Elemental or something, because you feel a suspiciously-timed air current rushing past your arm and almost pushing the tray towards him, letting him lift it deftly out of your hands and carry it over.

Freelancer and Gavin, chastised but utterly unrepentant, appear to have commandeered most of the sofa, along with its previous occupants. Huxley idly strokes his fingers over Gavin’s horns as Freelancer flips through channels on the TV, while Damien, sitting cross-legged on the rug against the front of the sofa, pats the ground next to him when Lasko bends down to put his teapot and cup in front of him.

“Join me. I’ve been exiled.”

“We’ll call the Pope,” Lasko replies thoughtfully, “he might be able to get you excommunicated as well. Two for one.”

Damien raises an eyebrow, just barely failing to resist the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See, now you’re talking.”

Lasko laughs, standing back up and offering the tray to the others on the sofa. “Clever of you to move the table out of the way,” he notes dryly, as Freelancer goes to take their tea from the tray and recoils at the heat of the ceramic. “Do you want me to leave it over there until it cools down?”

Huxley nods gratefully, taking a biscuit from the packet and batting away Gavin’s tail without even looking when the incubus tries to surreptitiously steal it out of his hand. “Aw, would you? Thanks, dude.”

Now that he says it, that might actually be a good idea - you reach over to get a biscuit for yourself as well, before going round to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Freelancer while Lasko puts the tray down on the coffee table. They seem to have found a programme they like, some cooking competition show you’ve never seen, and pass the remote down to Damien with a satisfied hum so he can put it on the floor next to him.

“Is this a new series?” he asks quietly, head resting against the side of their leg. “I thought you already watched all of them.”

Freelancer shrugs, absentmindedly twirling Gavin’s tail between their fingers as he readjusts his legs across their lap. “We did, yeah. But this one is a good one.”

The rest of the evening passes in something of a blur - warm tea and good company and some truly ridiculous commentary on the TV that has you laughing harder than you think you have in weeks, maybe even months. After the first programme finishes and the next one is starting, Damien seems to remember that you’d never actually had that dinner you were going to make, and drags you into the kitchen to get you something a bit more substantial than a biscuit.

Gavin trails after you, too, sitting himself on the countertop next to the fridge and watching you two cook. It doesn’t seem malicious or mean - rather, his eyes follow you curiously around the room in a way that distinctly reminds you of an intrigued housecat. He seems to have magicked up a lollipop or something to amuse himself with as well, idly moving the stick back and forth in his mouth as the hard sugar clicks against his teeth.

The feline comparison apparently occurs to Damien as well, who, for some reason, quickly moves everything within about a metre of the fridge on the counter out of easy reach. At first you’re surprised, but then you see Gavin’s tail droop in mock-disappointment, hanging limply down in front of the cabinets, and you realise what’s going on.

“Don’t mind him,” he stage-whispers to you as you wait for the stove to heat up. “He’s not so bad. Freelancer just spoils him something rotten.”

Gavin sniffs haughtily, clawed fingers pulling the - apparently heart-shaped - lolly out of his mouth and sticking his red-stained tongue out at Damien. “I am very cute and sexy and worthy of spoiling.”

“What you are is in the way, genius,” Damien replies, deadpan, pointing at the cutlery drawer that Gavin’s legs are currently blocking. “Fork, please.”

You can practically see Gavin vibrating as he tries to hold back the obvious joke, in favour of reaching down and taking a metal fork from the drawer, holding it out in one hand.

“Ah, ah-”

He snatches it back when Damien reaches for it, holding out the lollipop in his other hand instead. “I got you a present.”

Damien eyes it with interest, shiny and red, and you’re not sure if you should still be watching. “What flavour?”

“Cherry.”

Damien thinks about it for a second, before opening his mouth and letting Gavin put the lolly on his tongue. “Mmm. Thanks.”

Gavin smirks lazily, and hands him the fork. “Mwah.”

Neither of them seem embarrassed afterwards, like it was something you weren’t supposed to see, or like they’d forgotten you were there. It’s… kind of pleasant, in an unexpected way. Being around people who are funny, who are friendly, who don’t seem to be uncomfortable around you. You don’t really know anyone like that in Dahlia yet, and you hadn’t realised quite how much you’d missed it until now.

It’s just the same when you go back into the living room to eat, sitting properly on the sofa this time, next to Huxley. All of them just seem so nice - a far cry from the terrifying criminals you’d thought they might have been. Just ordinary, good people. Sweet and kind and silly. The sort of people that you’ve always wanted to be friends with, but that you’ve never been good at finding.

Damien makes a joke about one of the cooking judges on the screen, and Lasko splutters as he laughs and his tea goes down the wrong way. Huxley wraps his arm around Gavin’s waist to pull him closer against his side, and Freelancer follows suit, draping themselves over Gavin’s back and gleefully making themself comfortable on his shoulder.

There’s a lot to think about, that much is clear. The reality of the situation, the fear of what might be waiting for you if you choose to stay - in a very real sense, they might very well be the death of you. But looking around at them, these people, trusting you with their secret and hoping that you’ll keep it for them, you’re struck with a new and frightening question.

Maybe it really is dangerous. Maybe this would be the biggest mistake of your life - the end of your life. But could you do it? Could you walk away now, knowing what you know, and not regret it?

Lasko leans his head against the front of the sofa, turning his head slightly to look up at you, and gives you a tiny, bashful wave with one hand.

You wave back. He smiles, warm light reflecting softly off his glasses, and perhaps the question isn’t quite as frightening as it used to be.

masterlist

this is an original fanwork by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fluff #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted freelancer #redacted dear #redacted damn polycule #redacted damn crew #redacted fic #ginger writes #gingerbreadmonsters

56 notes · View notes