#ft. a tiny cameo of

[faresong]

ytts fits are fun

no text + silly bonus under the cut:

[chogiwow]

hold me, heal me | jake sim

pairing: jake x gn!reader (ft. jay's cameo)

wc: 9.1k+

genre: angst; sickfic; hurt-comfort

au: exes to lovers

warnings: both mc and jake are emotionally constipated for most part of the fic, jake is sick, mentions of food, yn is a sort of brusque caretaker, mentions of nudity, kissing and making out but jake is still sick ew but that’s on being in love ig, jake also contemplates murder (it's just my attempt at humor), not proofread 

a/n: i’m sick atm so yayyy :d anyway, busted this out in one sitting idek what happened

one.

jake contemplates ignoring the doorbell, the very sound of it making him snort out in mild annoyance. the weighted blanket around his frame feels warm, his feet peeking out against the soft kiss of the spring breeze.

he smells kind of mouldy, like a day-old dusty bookshelf, his fingers sport a fine sheen of oil when he rubs it across his face and his lips feel too dry. the bell rings again – he contemplates a silent murder this time.

against his will, he finds himself dragging his body out from under the comfort of his toasty blanket, sniffling and letting out a violent sneeze and somehow that hurts his throat. still, he persists, stumbling across the cool tile floors of his tiny apartment, heaving his body in his feverish state and unlocking the door with a heavy sigh.

the frown on his face drops too quickly – and again, it is against his will. not that he’s complaining this time around, because it’s you. you’re standing there; even after he blinks his eyes and squints at your face, you’re still standing there. it’s you. and he had just contemplated your murder not even minutes ago – he suddenly wants to apologise.

jake doesn’t know what to say. his throat is scratchy, thick with the remnants of sleep and sickness, but even if it weren’t, he’s pretty sure words would still fail him.

because you’re here, and he doesn’t know why.

his feverish brain scrambles for an explanation – maybe you forgot something here (impossible, you never leave things behind), or maybe you’re lost (equally impossible, you know your way around his place better than he does), or maybe you’[re here to finally cut him out of your life forever (uh, probably possible).

jake swallows. his throat protests, burning raw.

“you look disgusting,” you say, finally breaking the silence.

wow, you’ve really outdone yourself. maybe you’re taking the ‘just friends’ part a bit too literally, but even so, you won’t say that to any friend of yours. but this is jake, your ex – your ex you met again after a year not even two months ago, your ex who you had a long deep talk not even two weeks ago, your ex who, in said talk, spilled his guts out for you (literally and figuratively) over a late night drink, your ex who reluctantly promised to stay friends with because he would do whatever you told him.

jake exhales a short laugh, the sound raspy and strained. “glad to know i’m still leaving an impression.”

you roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. there’s something tight in your chest, something uneasy about the way he looks – pale, sweat-damp, like he’s been marinating in sickness for hours without bothering to take care of himself. which, knowing him, is probably exactly the case.

“you haven’t eaten, have you?”

jake, stubborn as ever, lifts his chin. “i had a banana.”

you glance past him, into the dim apartment, where his couch is buried under a heap of blankets, and his coffee table is cluttered with an empty cup and what looks like an unopened packet of instant ramen.

“right,” you deadpan, stepping forward without waiting for an invitation. he moves aside automatically, like he’s too feverish to even pretend to stop you.

the air inside is warm, a little stale. you wrinkle your nose, setting the plastic bag down on his kitchen counter before turning back to him.

“you look worse than i thought.”

“you mentioned that already,” he mutters, rubbing his temple. “why are you even here?”

that question. you expected it, but it still sits heavy in your stomach.

“i was in the neighborhood.”

jake gives you a flat look. “you don’t live anywhere near here.”

you press your lips together. fine. he’s not going to let you get away with that one.

“i heard you were sick.”

this is a truth. honestly, it was your precious weekend after a long week of gruelling workload, you were planning on staying in and commit fully to the homebody tag you proudly wore like an honor, but ever since getting an urgent call from jay – who was the usual caretaker in your friend group – informing you in a voice filled with worry that he was out of town and somehow jake had ended up sick and how he couldn’t be there and how jake wouldn’t let anyone take care of him anyway, you had ended up pacifying your friend that you would drop by at his place.

jake lets out a slow breath, leaning against the doorframe. the way he looks at you makes your throat tighten – like he’s trying to decipher something, trying to read between the lines of what you’re really saying.

he won’t push, though. he never does.

instead, he just nods, running a hand over his face. “well. that explains a lot.”

you arch a brow. “like what?”

“like why i thought i was hallucinating when i saw you at my door.”

your lips twitch, but you bite back the urge to smile. “maybe you are.”

jake hums, as if seriously considering that possibility. his feverish eyes flicker over you, lingering like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks too long. you can’t blame him. this – being here, stepping into his space again – is uncharted territory, and neither of you know what to do with it.

you clear your throat, turning away before the weight of his gaze unsettles you too much. “sit down,” you say, already moving toward his tiny kitchen.

jake doesn’t argue. he trudges back to his couch, collapsing onto it with a groan. he watches you from beneath his blankets, eyes hooded with exhaustion.

“you don’t have to do this,” he says after a moment. his voice is quieter now, almost careful.

you pause, rummaging through the bag you brought. “i know.”

it’s the truth. you don’t have to be here. you didn’t have to spend your saturday trekking across the city, picking up soup from that overpriced place he likes, remembering that he doesn’t like ginger in it, showing up at his door despite every logical reason not to.

but here you are.

you hear him sigh, long and tired. maybe he understands that arguing is pointless. maybe he’s just too sick to fight you on it. either way, he doesn’t protest when you kneel in front of the coffee table and open the container of soup, letting the steam curl into the air.

“eat,” you tell him, pushing the spoon toward him.

he looks at it, then at you. “you’re kind of bossy.”

“you’re kind of impossible.”

jake chuckles, though it quickly turns into a cough. he takes the spoon from you, fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second. it doesn’t mean anything. it doesn’t.

you tell yourself that as you watch him take the first sip, his shoulders sagging as the warmth settles in his chest.

“better?” you ask, voice softer than you mean for it to be.

jake doesn’t answer right away. he just looks at you, something unreadable in his fever-glazed eyes. then he smiles, small and a little lopsided.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “better.”

jake eats slowly, his movements sluggish from the fever. you sit across from him, arms crossed, watching the way he cradles the bowl in his hands like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. it’s strange – being here again, in his space, close enough to remember how he used to lean against your shoulder whenever he was sick, how he always got clingy when he had a fever, how he used to–

you stop the thought before it can go any further.

“you’re staring,” jake mutters, glancing at you over the rim of his bowl.

“i’m making sure i keep up my end of the promise i made to jay. seriously, you can't still be this childish, refusing to even go to a hospital. what do you expect, that you’ll just get better if you rot in a bed for a few days without anyone to look after you–”

your words are harsh, you can feel them scratch your throat with their thorns, but they come out of a place of genuine concern and mild bewilderment at jake’s stubbornness. so you hope that at least a few of those thorns get stuck in your throat, for his sake at least.

“what about you?”

you blink at the interruption, lips parted midway forming your sentence. jake notices, shoving a mouthful of soup that burns his tongue before explaining.

“when you were in japan, you lived alone too. what did you do when you got sick…or, was there someone to take care of you?”

it's easy to pass off the quietness with which the question comes out to his raspy throat, but it does  nothing to soften the sudden drop in your stomach that resounds like a gong in your ears.

“how did you know i lived alone?”

i asked jay.

“jay told me.”

jake blows on his next spoonful of soup, waiting patiently for you to answer. did you have someone to take care of you?

you hesitate for a moment, caught between the truth and something easier.

“no,” you finally say. “i took care of myself.”

jake hums, like that answer is enough. like it doesn't leave a hole in the conversation. you expect him to drop it, but then—

“that must’ve been hard.”

you exhale through your nose. “it was fine.”

“liar,” he says, not unkindly. he sets the bowl down with a quiet clink, watching you with that same unreadable expression. fevered, but sharp. "you always hated being sick. said it made you feel helpless."

the words come from somewhere too familiar, a piece of history you thought had been buried. because he’s right. you did say that – once, a long time ago, wrapped up in his sheets with a fever of your own, curled up against the warmth of his body as he pressed a damp towel to your forehead. you hated it, the vulnerability of it all, the way it made you feel like you couldn’t move forward. jake had laughed back then, brushing the hair out of your face, promising you’d get through it together.

but there was no together anymore.

"excuse me?" your voice is sharp, defensive before you can stop it. but jake doesn’t flinch, doesn’t backtrack. he just keeps looking at you, feverish but steady, like he’s seeing through every wall you’ve built.

“you hate being alone,” he says simply. “you always have.”

your fingers curl against your palm, nails pressing into your skin. the room feels too warm now, the scent of soup thick in the air, pressing against your ribs. you don't know if it's his fever or yours, but suddenly, it feels like you can't breathe.

“i got used to it,” you say, and it’s meant to sound indifferent, like a shrug. but it doesn’t. it sounds tired.

jake watches you carefully, then sets the bowl down on the table with a quiet clink. his fingers trace the rim absentmindedly. “doesn’t mean it stopped hurting.”

you push yourself up, dusting imaginary lint off your jeans. "i’ll get you some water."

jake doesn’t stop you, but you can feel his gaze following you as you move around his tiny kitchen, familiar in ways you wish it wasn’t. your hands know exactly where to reach, where the glasses are, how the faucet squeaks if you turn it too fast. it’s ridiculous.

and he wonders what you might have gone through yourself. here, he had the safety of his friends, a reliable, if not burdensome indulgence for him. one call, and he was sure one friend or another would drop by if he was sick.

you however, had been all alone in a new country. new job, new people, new place, an unfamiliar language and no friends to call upon. did you let yourself rot in bed too? he wanted to ask you so much, but he still didn’t feel like he had the right to pry into your life yet.

it’s been a year since you broke up, two months since you met again, two weeks since you had that conversation – one where he admitted things you weren’t sure you wanted to hear, and you promised things you weren’t sure you could keep.

and now you were here, refilling his glass like no time had passed at all.

jake watches you carefully, his fever-flushed face softening in a way you don’t quite know how to deal with. his gaze lingers – not in the sharp, teasing way he would look at you, but in a quiet, searching way, like he’s seeing something in you he hadn’t noticed before.

placing the glass on the table, you make a final attempt at saving yourself. you’re not sure what you need saving from, jake is the one who’s sick, if anything you have the upper hand here (again, you don’t why you  need a upper hand in the first place), but jake’s sudden intervention had rattled you nonetheless. the way he kept on seeing through you like he knew you better than the back of his hand, even when all your cards were tucked safely in your han and the table in front of you was empty. 

“it’s not like i had a choice.”

“yeah,” jake murmurs. “i guess not.”

a silence settles between you, neither awkward nor comfortable, just there. you could fill it with something light, something inconsequential, but the weight of the moment keeps you still.

jake sets the bowl down on the table, leaning back against the couch. his head tilts slightly, exhaustion tugging at his expression. “you should’ve called.”

you frown. “what?”

“when you were sick,” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “you should’ve called me.”

a bitter laugh rises in your throat before you can stop it. “right. because that would’ve been appropriate.”

jake doesn’t flinch, he just looks at you, steady despite the fever dulling his edges. “i wouldn’t have cared about “appropriate.”

you open your mouth, then close it again. because what can you even say to that? you hadn’t called him. of course, you hadn’t. it had been a year. a whole year of learning how to exist without him, of burying old instincts, of teaching yourself not to reach for your phone when something reminded you of him.

but now, sitting here, watching the way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you, you wonder if you ever really unlearned any of it.

you exhale, shaking your head. “just finish the soup, jake.”

his lips twitch, barely a ghost of a smile. he doesn’t argue.

maybe it’s the fever, or maybe it’s just him, but he doesn’t stop watching you. even as he eats, even as the warmth returns to his face, even as you sit there, pretending this is normal.

you don’t look back at him. you can’t.

because something about this – about being here, about taking care of him again – feels too easy. about the way he so easily manages to remind you of the past despite yourself, how he easily manages to look past you, through you, at you with those same kind eyes you had fallen in love with all those year ago. and you don’t know what to do with that.

so you do what comes to you naturally when your mind is crumbling on itself. you move, you work, you take action. you make yourself busy.

shrugging off your jacket, you push the sleeves of your shirt up and rummage through another plastic bag. pulling out a packet of fever reducing medicines, you pop one out of its pellet and hand it to jake.

“have this, then go to sleep.” there’s determination in your voice, you’re already planning out what to do, “i’ll clean up here and check on you later, so just go get some rest and don’t worry too much about it.”

jake doesn’t want to argue, but he doesn’t want to waste his time sleeping when he knows you’ve already made up your mind to stay in his apartment for the time being. also, he doesn’t want to make you clean up after him.

“wait y/n, you don’t have to clean up–”

“jake, for all i know, you’ve been marinating in your own sickness for two days straight,” you deadpan, already picking up the leftover dishes off his table and striding towards his kitchen, shaking your head at the sinkful of old dishes, “go to sleep, i’ll wake you up in a few hours and you can take a shower then. i’ll change your sheets while i’m at it too–”

you ramble off about the list of things you’re mentally taking note of and it makes jake dizzy. this is a side of you that is new to him. it’s like you’re giving him no chance at making a move. he sees you deal out your cards, it’s so clear to him, but he feels powerless right now, your back facing him like a sturdy wall.

he follows the line of your shoulders, the tension taut in them as you continue with your work, your hands moving on their own as you rinse dishes and rearrange the kitchen, though you’re not really seeing any of it. the soft clink of plates against each other fills the quiet room, but your mind is miles away.

behind you, you hear jake shift on the couch, a low sigh escaping his lips. it’s soft, the kind of sigh that says more than words ever could. you try to focus on the task at hand, but every time you move, you feel his eyes on you. it makes your skin feel too tight, your thoughts too loud.

you hear his footsteps receding as he makes his way to his room, the sound of his movements getting muffled the further away he moves. he doesn’t shut the door behind him, instead, getting in bed and letting himself be lulled into a sleep with the sound of your own movements in the kitchen. and it feels unreal.

jake is half certain that he would wake up and realise that this had all just been a fever dream, that he had indeed been hallucinating your figure, tat he had conjured up your voice from the depths of his memory, that the frown on your pretty face had been his karma – even in his dreams, you were upset at him. and for a while he tries to stay awake, fighting his heavy eyes and the soreness in his limbs and the weight of the blanket over his frame. 

you hear the soft creak of the bed, the rustle of sheets. it’s a quiet reminder that jake is still there. that he’s still so close, even though you’ve tried to keep your distance. he’s not the one who’s avoiding you anymore. you are. and every moment you spend not looking at him, not addressing what’s hanging between you, it feels like a crack getting wider.

a distant groan from the bedroom snaps you out of your thoughts. jake. his voice, thick with the fever, is a reminder of how everything is spinning out of control. you pause for a moment, eyes flicking towards the hallway, your heart tightening in your chest.

you didn’t call him when you were sick. you didn’t need to. you couldn’t. but right now, you’re here. you’re standing in his kitchen, pretending you’re not trembling with every second that passes, pretending you’re not dying to check on him. to feel something, anything, other than this cold distance you’ve forced between you both.

but you simply dissociate. your movements grow more mechanical as you tidy up, but you know that you're running from something. running from the truth, from the flood of emotions that threaten to break the fragile dam you've built. the truth is, you’ve been avoiding him for so long – maybe longer than you even realized – but the cracks are showing now, and it's making everything harder than it needs to be.

you try not to think about the past, the things you’ve buried, but it’s impossible. because here you are, again. taking care of him. watching him. being drawn to him despite everything that should keep you apart.

the silence stretches, only the sound of water and cutlery keeping you company. if you strain your ears, you could probably hear the laboured breaths in the bedroom. 

the glass in your hand feels heavier now, like it’s a vessel for everything you’ve kept inside. you’re holding it with too much force, fingers tight around it, but you don’t want to let go. you’re afraid that if you do, the dam will break. that all the words, all the thoughts you’ve buried so deep, will flood out and you won’t be able to stop them.

two.

somewhere in the middle of a restless sleep and the sense of a lingering presence, jake finds himself being shaken awake.

there’s a gentle pressure on his arm, squeezing his skin comfortingly and coaxing his eyes to flutter open. his head feels lighter this time around, weighed down by a damp cloth that feels like a balm across his skin, but its the hand around his arm that he really zeroes in on the moment he’s up.

so you hadn’t been a fever dream after all. that means you had been upset at him in reality. well, that’s a concern for later. all he registers is that you hadn’t left. yet. 

“hey,” your voice is tentative, just like your fingers curling around his arm as if you’re afraid you’re going to startle him back into consciousness, “you should get up and take a shower, i ran you some hot water”

your voice, it’s so quiet and sweet. your fingers graze against his skin when you remove the towel off his and run your fingers across the long strands of hair across his forehead – he shivers. your forehead puckers into a frown, palm flattening against his head again. a small sigh escapes his lips, the feeling so welcome, he lets his eyes fall shut again, but you move your hand again and all jake feels is the emptiness lying heavy against his skin.

jake blinks slowly, the sleep still clouding his vision as he processes your words, the absence of your touch a sharp contrast to the warmth you’d left behind. he swallows hard, pushing himself up with effort, the weight of exhaustion still clinging to him.

the cool air from the window brushes against his damp skin, and he can hear the soft rustling of the room as you move around, no longer hovering. you’ve given him space, and yet, he feels more crowded than ever by the silence between you two. the quiet hum of the room is deafening.

his hands reach for the towel you’d left behind, the fabric still warm from the contact with his skin. he presses it to his forehead again, and for a fleeting moment, he thinks about how this small gesture – this simple act of care – might have been enough if he hadn’t messed it all up.

when he shuffles into the bathroom, you're already there, standing at an awkward angle away from the showerhead as you twist and turn the knobs, one hand under the water to test the temperature.

“just a sec, it’s a bit too hot right now,” you barely glance at him as you continue with his ministrations. and jake? he’s honestly still too tired to want to read into your actions but that doesn’t mean his chest doesn’t twist in a weird way.

once you’ve determined the right temperature of the water, you move towards jake who’s leaning with his head against the bathroom tiles. the room itself is tiny, a two-by-two metre cubicle that feels too crowded with the both of you inside. jake sniffles, raising his arms in a pathetic attempt to take his jacket off but he’s obviously unsuccessful.

you don’t even spare a reaction, naturally moving to help him, maneuvering one arm out of his jacket, then the other. and it’s with this same instinct that your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt too, ready to pull it over his head but you stop at the very last second, almost abruptly, it gives you a whiplash.

instantly your eyes meet his. he’s already looking at you and unfortunately you can read his emotions all too well.

the shower runs in the background, steam curling up into the air, and you both stand there for a moment, hesitating. part of jake wants to stay lost in the haze of exhaustion, to let you take the call and help him take his shirt off. but another part – the part that knows you woldn’t dare unless he pushed you – wants to step forward with his arms stretched out, telling you to take it off for him.

jake swallows again, this time louder, his throat dry. he could let you take over, could surrender to the care you’re offering, let you guide him through the motions. it would be easy to let go, but there’s something about the way you’re looking at him – something raw and real – that makes him second-guess.

“i… i can do it,” jake says hoarsely, his voice quiet and rough, like it hasn’t been used properly in too long. his hands hover, reaching up toward his shirt but faltering at the last second. you see him pause, the conflict in his eyes, and for a split second, he wishes he could pretend it was just the exhaustion talking. but it's not. it’s more than that.

you stand there, frozen, hand still poised just inches from his chest, the tension between you two becoming almost suffocating. but despite the silence, there’s an unspoken understanding that lingers between you, a fragile thread that hasn’t snapped yet.

finally, you take a step back, releasing a quiet breath as you straighten up. you glance down for a moment, biting your lip, then look back at him with a mixture of resolve and something softer. "you should... you should take care of it yourself," you say, your voice a little strained, as though you're holding something back.

jake wants to argue, to tell you it's fine, to just let him lean into whatever you've been offering. but instead, he stays quiet, his gaze not leaving yours. he takes the final step toward the shirt, the fabric slipping off easily, but for some reason, the act feels heavier now. the weight of the decision, the weight of what it means to ask for help or not.

your eyes avert on their own, catching but a momentary peek of his naked skin. this shouldn’t be that weird, you shouldn’t be this flustered. you’ve seen him like this before, hell you’ve seen and done much more than this before, but that was then. this is now – you’re taking care of your sick ex who you’re just friends with.

you wish there was a guidebook for this sort of situation.

you swallow hard and try to keep your voice steady when you speak. "i’ll get you something to eat after," you say, your voice almost too soft, barely reaching him over the water.

there’s a pause. a beat that feels like it could stretch on forever.

"yeah," jake murmurs, his voice low and tired. "thanks."

you can’t quite tell if he means it, if it’s just the exhaustion talking, or if it’s something more. you don’t ask. the weight of his answer is enough. he’s waiting for you to leave before he can get into the shower.

almost against your will, your gaze flickers to him – just a quick look, a fleeting glance. and it’s enough to leave you breathless for a second. his back is to you, but you can see the way his shoulders tense, the curve of his spine, the way condensation already starts setting, dampening his skin with a thin layer of mist from the shower. 

you wish you could stay; it's a thought that startles you and embarrasses you. but it's also a thought that sobers you up in an instant, startling you out of your reverie and making your feet finally move. the door shuts behind you with a soft thud, but you don’t hear the soft click of the lock turning.

the moment the door clicks shut, you press your back against it, letting out a breath you didn't even realize you'd been holding. your hands are trembling slightly, and you quickly clasp them together, squeezing them tight to keep the unease from showing. you force yourself to breathe, to steady the racing thoughts in your head.

you’re just friends now. that’s what you promised, that’s what you agreed on. but why does everything about this feel so far from simple?

the faint sound of the shower running leaks through the thin walls. a knot tightens in your stomach. you press your palms against the door, the coolness of the wood grounding you for a second. this is supposed to be temporary, you remind yourself. just a few more hours, a couple of days at most, and you’ll both go back to your separate lives. you can’t afford to let yourself slip back into this space. not now.

jake stands still in the shower, the hot water cascading over him, though it does little to wash away the frustration building inside. his thoughts race faster than the droplets falling from the showerhead, each one a sharp reminder of how easy it was to slip back into this. the moment you stepped into the apartment, everything shifted. even though you'd kept your distance, it didn’t take much for him to feel the pull again.

he shuts his eyes tighter, pushing the water away, wishing it could drown out the thoughts swirling in his head. why? why was it so easy to let you back in? how did you always know the right thing to do? 

then again, he had always blindly believed you back when you were together, trusting your decisions like they were the bible itself. maybe that had been his downfall in a way, when he had reluctantly but respectfully agreed to the breakup. thinking about it now, you were wrong. you had been so wrong, and he had resented you for it. he had resented himself for believing you just because he was in love with you and he realised not much had changed, because he had let you fool him again by making him promise to be just friends with him. even after a whole year of repenting, resolving and regretting, it had been that easy for you to crumble him in your hands – all because he still loves you.

and he thinks that is reason enough to let himself be wavered by you – your imploring eyes, your worried lips, the frown on your face, the plea in your voice – he’d give in to you and your demands any day and every day.

but he doesn’t think he wants to. right now, standing under the warm water you had run for him, it enraged him a little how he had just stood there letting you do your thing while he waited. no, in fact, its not the waiting that set him off, he would wait for you for however long you made him, it was the way you had such an easy say in his life. how you could just do something, and he wouldn’t question it.

why should we remain friends?

he should have asked you that rather than agreeing along with you. you had given him no logical reason, but he had sensed the emotionally turbulent place it had come from, so he had left it at that. but now he wants to know. now he wants to know why you should remain just friends? why would you be here taking care of him when he’s sick? do you not still love him?

your voice from earlier lingers in his ears: i’ll get you something to eat after. the way you said it was soft, almost like a promise. but he can’t help but hear the unspoken words between the lines. it wasn’t just about food. you were offering something more, but you were hiding it behind the guise of something mundane. you were offering care, but you were also offering distance.

jake grips the edge of the shower, knuckles white as he exhales sharply. the water no longer feels comforting. it’s just another distraction. another way for him to bury his feelings.

"god," he mutters to no one, his voice barely above a whisper. "why do you still do this to me?"

he’s angry. angry at the situation, angry at himself for still caring, for still wanting you in ways he shouldn't. and yet, underneath the anger, there's an ache – a yearning that refuses to be ignored. he wants to reach out, to pull you back, to make you see that he still matters. that they both still matter.

but instead, he grits his teeth, trying to keep the heat of his frustration contained. no more waiting, he thinks. no more pretending.

when the water runs cold, he steps out of the shower, his body shivering slightly, but it’s nothing compared to the chill creeping under his skin. he pulls a towel around his waist and stares at his reflection in the foggy mirror. for a second, he barely recognizes the man in the glass. the person he used to be – the one who thought everything would just fall into place after the breakup, the one who convinced himself they could both move on – feels like a stranger.

but he’s done pretending now.

jake pulls open the bathroom door and steps into the hallway, the soft hum of the apartment the only sound. he doesn’t have a plan, but he knows one thing for sure: he’s not going to let this go without asking the questions that have been haunting him. not anymore.

you’re sitting on the couch, your knees tucked under your chin, a blanket draped over your lap. you’re only half paying attention to the television, head peeking up every so often to check the pot of soup boiling over the stove. the sight almost makes him turn back. almost makes him halt in his steps and rethink what he’s about to do. does he really want to break this moment?

i mean, he could retreat now, disappear into the quiet of his thoughts, and then return to let you serve him the warm cup of soup. he could play it off, pretending not to read too much into it, maybe even use the moment to ask about your time in japan. you'd tell him about how much you loved it, carefully sidestepping any mention of the loneliness you’d carried with you, dodging his prying questions with practiced ease. after that, you'd clean up again, hand him the fever-reducing pills, and tuck him into bed. he’d wake up feeling better, and you’d finally leave. and when you did, things would go back to what they were before. just friends. just the way it had always been.

and then you’ll keep being ‘just friends’.

but he doesn’t. instead, he walks towards you, his footsteps steady despite the whirlwind inside him. his naked torso feeling the brunt of his actions as the cool breeze pricks his skin.

"you’re not going anywhere, are you?" the question slips out before he can stop it, his voice rough. he’s barely even aware of the way his heart pounds in his chest.

you look up at him, surprise flickering across your face, but it doesn’t last long. you meet his gaze, steady, cautious, before they trail along the path of his body – his naked body, save for the towel around his waist. what the fuck.

"jake," you start, but your voice falters, unsure of how to navigate this new situation, “i’m right here, so can you please go put something on, you’re gonna get sick again if y–”

but he’s not going to let you hold back. not anymore.

"no," he interrupts softly. "i need to know, right now. why are we still pretending?"

three.

the room holds its breath, the tension almost tangible in the quiet after jake’s question. for a moment, neither of you speaks. your eyes flicker between him and the door, as if you could somehow slip out of this without answering. but you know you can’t. not anymore. not with the weight of his question hanging between you.

he’s let you convince him to put on clothes for the moment, but he refuses the bowl of soup you set in front of him.

“answer me y/n, i’m not eating anything until you answer my questions tonight.”

you can already feel a headache creeping up your neck. you sit on the other end of the couch, burying your head in your hands and letting out a weary sigh. jake had picked the worst time to be his stubborn self again.

you clear your throat, trying to regain control of the situation, but your voice feels small, fragile. “jake… i – i don’t know what you want me to say.” you stand up slowly, hands still gripping the blanket around you, though the warmth of it feels distant now. “you’re sick. you should just rest.”

but jake doesn’t look sick. not in the way he did when you first found him, feverish and weak, barely able to sit up. he sits across you now, your bodies separated by just a few feet. there’s a fire in his eyes, something raw and insistent that makes it hard to breathe.

“you’re avoiding the question,” he says, his voice low but firm. “why are we still pretending? why are you really here?”

“where is this coming from? i thought you were fine with me being here–”

“yeah, i was sick and barely in any condition to argue with you.”

“oh. oh, so now that you’re feeling better you think you can–”

“i can what?” jake’s voice is still raspy, but it's firm. it rattles you. jake has always been the more emotional one in your relationship whereas you took the reign of being the logical counterpart. yet now, you can’t find yourself coming up with anything close to a logical explanation.

you hesitate, the words swirling in your mind but never quite making it past your lips. his question cuts through everything you’ve been holding back, and you feel exposed, raw. this isn’t the same dynamic anymore. jake’s eyes bore into yours, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface, and you can’t look away.

“i – i don’t know what you want from me,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought... i thought we were just getting through this. i’m here because i care about you, jake. i always have.”

jake’s jaw tightens, and he takes a step forward, his presence looming over you. his gaze doesn’t soften; it only grows more intense, more insistent.

“no,” he says quietly. “you’re here because you can’t let go of whatever we were, but you're too scared to admit it. you’re scared of what happens next, scared of how things might change if we stop pretending.”

the words hit harder than you expect. you recoil slightly, trying to maintain your composure, but the tension in the room feels suffocating, like you’re drowning in the weight of your own fear. you can feel your pulse in your throat, each beat hammering against your chest.

“i’m not pretending,” you murmur, but even to your own ears, it sounds hollow. “i’m... i’m just trying to make sure you're okay.”

jake doesn’t let you off the hook. “and what about you? what are you doing, huh? what about what you need?” his voice cracks just a little at the end, the vulnerability slipping through. you’ve never heard him sound like this before, and it shakes you to your core. the certainty in his eyes falters for just a second, but when he speaks again, it’s like he’s trying to bury it. “i can’t do this anymore. i can’t be the one who’s always waiting for you to come back, for you to decide if i’m worth it.”

you flinch. his words strike deeper than any physical blow could. he’s right, in a way you’ve been refusing to face him. you’ve been holding him at arm’s length, never fully letting him back in, always waiting for something – anything – that would make it easier to walk away without feeling like you’re suffocating. but jake’s not giving you that luxury anymore.

“what the hell are you even saying jake,” your temper rises now, you’re not sure if its the way jake deems the way you regard him or whether it's the truth of everything he is hitting you with all of a sudden, “you are worth everything i have ever put my life upon, don’t go around making me the bad guy. i have never deemed you any less than what you deserve, and you’ve always deserved the best.”

these words are unfiltered and sound almost childish in your ears. gone is the grace with which you pride yourself in forming sentences, now everything you’re saying sounds like some third grade rendition of a love letter. you burn in embarrassment and anger, because in the end, jake has reduced you to this state.

but jake doesn’t regard it as such, if anything, he’s gotten you to finally talk.

“what are you afraid of?”

you look at him, your throat tight, and suddenly, it feels like everything is crashing down. it’s always been easier to lie, to hide behind excuses, behind the safety of distance. but with jake right in front of you, his question still lingering – for the first time, you can’t push it away. you can’t hide from it anymore.

“what am i afraid of?” you repeat the words softly, like a question to yourself. but deep down, you already know the answer, and it terrifies you.

“i’m afraid of what happens when we stop pretending,” you confess, voice cracking. you can’t look at him as you say it – can’t bear to meet his eyes, because everything you’ve been burying under the surface comes spilling out in the form of this one fragile truth. “i’m afraid that if we really look at this... at us, there won’t be anything left to hold on to.”

jake’s silence is deafening. you risk a glance at him, only to find him staring at you with something close to heartbreak in his gaze. his lips press together, and for a moment, you think he’s going to say something, but then his chest rises and falls with a sharp breath, like he’s swallowing everything he feels.

“you think... you think that if we let go, we’ll be nothing?” his voice is quieter now, almost lost. but there’s still that fire in it, just softer. “is that what you really believe, y/n? that everything we had means nothing if it’s not perfect?”

you wish you could say something, anything, to make this easier – to make him understand. but it’s all coming out now, too much and too fast.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, jake.” the words tumble out, helplessly, just like the tears that start rolling down your cheeks, “i... i don’t know how to stop being afraid that we’ll just break again. that i’ll break, and i’ll hurt you, and then there won’t be any coming back from it.”

you hesitate, taking a shaky breath, and the real reason – one that’s been buried so deep for so long – slips out before you can stop it. “i was so scared of losing you, jake. but i realized that if i kept holding onto you like that maybe i’d end up suffocating you.”

jake’s jaw tightens, and you watch his expression shift. you don’t know if he understands completely, but something flickers in his eyes. you think about the time you walked away, the way you chose to close off instead of facing the fear of losing him to your own need for control. the thing you were so afraid of – the thing that led to your breakup.

“the thing is,” you continue, voice cracking, “i wanted us to be this perfect thing, but i couldn’t let go of the part of me that was terrified. i kept pushing you away. and then... when we finally did break up, i thought i was saving us both from more hurt. but all i was really doing was hurting you.”

jake’s hand inches towards you, afraid that you would pull away before he could reach you. when his fingers finally find yours across the couch, he holds on firmly. you don’t pull away.

“i thought you just didn’t need me anymore. that you were pushing me out, choosing to shut me out because you didn’t want to deal with the mess of everything we were.”

he looks at you, and it’s like his eyes are pleading for you to see it. “but i was just trying to be there. for you. i tried everything i could, y/n. you wouldn’t let me in. every time i pushed, you pulled back. and in the end, i felt like i was nothing but a burden to you. that was why i stepped back...because i thought it was what you wanted. i thought i wasn’t enough.”

the truth of his words settles like a weight in your chest, heavy and sharp. the weight of his hand on top of yours feels burdensome, but then his fingers start caressing your skin, thumbing circles across the soft flesh of your wrist.  and then you realize: all that time, while you were protecting yourself from the pain of losing him, you were pushing him into a corner, suffocating him with your need for control. and it destroyed the connection you had – your walls went up, and his came down.

“you thought you weren’t enough?” you whisper, the tears keep rolling, “i’m sorry. i was so scared... scared that if i let you too close, i’d lose myself in you. i needed to keep control, jake. but i never wanted to push you away like that. and i... i didn’t see how badly i was hurting you until it was too late.”

jake now turns to you entirely. all his yearning oozes out of him desperately, maybe it’s because you’ve finally had this talk, but he can feel the tiredness returning in his limbs, finally relieved. he expects you to completely push him away, but he reaches out regardless and maneuvers you with gentle hands across his lap.

“if you know now that you hurt me, take responsibility for it.” he says, letting you ease yourself in his hold. you’re hesitant at first, but with every stroke of his fingers across your cheeks, you settle down and let him wipe your tears away.

he buries his face against the crook of your neck and it's a feeling you don’t realise you’ve missed. the sigh that tumbles out your lips is just a testimony of you finally giving in to this feeling.

“jake,” your voice is a silent whisper, “you’re still sick, you shouldn’t be–”

but whatever it is that you think jake shouldn’t be doing is suddenly a thought flung right to the back of your mind when his lips meet yours in a silent plea. just the soft touch of his chapped skin against yours. it ends as abruptly as it starts.

“fuck,” he curses, slightly out of breath even though he hadn’t done much, “you’re right, i’m sick, i shouldn’t be kissing you–”

oh but who cares. it’s just a mild fever, so what if you fall sick too?

you’re pressing your lips against him too, shutting him up with a kiss that he surrenders himself into despite his own protest against his sickness. because you’re here, in his arms, kissing him like that's all you’ve wanted to do. and for once, jake doesn’t complain, because you’ve never kissed him like this before. you've never shown him just how starved you are for him. and he understands this feeling, he’s felt this way for you forever, but he’s also slightly dumbfounded at the way you hold him tight and kiss him breathless.

he feels dizzy again, but not for anything in the world is he going to stop you right now. he simply latches on to you tighter, pulling you impossibly close and moves his lips with yours, letting you bruise his own.

you both finally pull away, breathless, eyes searching the other like you’ve been lost in the dark for too long. the weight of everything that’s been unsaid, everything that’s been holding you both apart, is still there, but now there’s something else. a sense of clarity, an understanding that feels so fragile, like the first light breaking through a storm.

jake presses his forehead to yours, a soft laugh escaping him as he steadies his breath. “god, i’ve missed you like this. i’ve missed us.” his voice is low, raw with emotion, and you feel that familiar pull in your chest again – the one you’ve been trying to ignore, trying to convince yourself isn’t real. but it is. it always has been.

you pull back slightly, still tangled in his arms, your heart racing. “jake, i... i don’t know how to fix all the damage i’ve done. i don’t even know if i deserve to ask for another chance... after everything.”

his eyes soften, his thumb gently brushing over your lips like he's memorizing the way they feel against his skin. “y/n,” he says, his voice steady and sure now, “you don’t have to fix anything all at once. we don’t have to pretend like everything’s perfect, because it’s not. but i’m willing to try again, if you are.”

your chest tightens at his words, the weight of everything still hanging between you, but it feels like the first step. it feels like a chance to rebuild, even if it’s not easy, even if it takes time. he’s offering you the space to breathe, to come to him when you’re ready, but with no expectation that you have it all figured out. 

“i’m scared, jake,” you admit, your voice trembling. “i’m scared i’ll push you away again. that i’ll hurt you again.”

he shakes his head, a small, reassuring smile playing at his lips. “you won’t. not if we face it together.”

you feel a strange sense of calm settle over you, like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even though the future is still uncertain. but for the first time in a long time, it’s not so terrifying. maybe because you’re not facing it alone.

“can we... just take it slow?” you whisper, your fingers curling into his shirt. “can we rebuild this, piece by piece? i don’t want to rush it.”

jake smiles, despite the sudden dull thudding in his head.

“you’re asking for slow after you just kissed me like that?”

you know he’s teasing you, you feel the warmth flush your cheeks but before you can reprimand him, his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you in for another gentle kiss; this time slower, deeper, like he’s memorizing the way you feel against him. when he pulls away, there’s a look in his eyes that tells you more than words ever could.

“slow’s fine with me,” he murmurs. “we’ll do it at our own pace. whatever it takes.”

you bury your face in the crook of his neck; it feels like home.

“thank you,” you whisper, even though you’re not entirely sure what you’re thanking him for yet. for understanding? for being patient? for loving you despite everything?

you don’t know. but you’re grateful.

“i’ll make it right, jake,” you say, your voice muffled against his skin. “i’ll find a way to make it right.”

and for the first time, you truly believe it.

epilogue.

a week later, you’re sprawled on the couch, tissues scattered around you, feeling miserable. jake walks in, grinning, holding soup and medicine.

“you really went for it, huh?” he teases, setting the soup down. “kissed me, and now you’re sick.”

you groan. “you didn’t have to kiss me back so passionately.”

jake laughs. “what can i say? i had to make up for lost time.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “well, it’s your fault. i was fine until you—"

“don’t even try to blame me,” he cuts in, sitting beside you. “we both know you loved it.”

before you can retort, jay pops his head out from your kitchen, shaking his head. “you two seriously couldn’t wait a week to not get sick?”

you throw a pillow at him. “shut up, jay.”

he grins. “i’m just saying, you couldn’t have waited at least a week, or at least till he got better? are you guys animals, did you have to make out right then?”

you groan and pull the blanket tighter around yourself. “jay, please, you’re killing me.”

jake chuckles, clearly amused by jay’s teasing. “i’m sure it was worth it.”

jay raises an eyebrow. “it better have been. you’re both out of commission now. y/n’s got the cold, and i’m stuck being the responsible one. like i don’t have enough to deal with.”

you glance at jake, still leaning into him for comfort, and say in your best innocent voice, “you could always leave, jay. let us suffer in peace.”

jay gives you a mock glare. “oh, i see how it is. i come over to check on you, and now i’m the bad guy.”

jake smirks, clearly enjoying the banter. “you’re lucky we didn’t need you to play nurse. we’ve got it covered.”

jay rolls his eyes dramatically, then turns to leave. “fine. but if you two are going to be in here swapping germs and cuddling like an old married couple, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

before he can disappear completely, you call out after him. “hey, jay?”

he pauses at the door.

“next time, bring actual medicine. not just your sarcasm.”

jay grins, tossing a playful wink over his shoulder. “can’t help it, y/n. it’s what i do best.”

with that, he’s gone, and the silence between you and jake is comfortable, warm. you look up at him, giving him a half-smile.

“i guess it’s just us then?”

jake kisses your forehead gently. “just us.”

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ WHAT WAS LEFT UNSAID ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 박성훈 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: being in a relationship with sunghoon was nothing short of absolute splendour, the love between you both was undeniable, and yet you find yourself curious to know where sunghoon’s love began, and what he did about it

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!sunghoon x non-idol!reader, est. relationship, ft. tiny cameos of ive’s liz and rei

warnings: attempts at humour, sickeningly sweet and lovesick sunghoon, lowkey tsundere (shocking to no one) but it makes it a tinge angsty, mentions weed like one (1) time

w.c: 2.6k

[archive]

You were curious. So undeniably curious. It was all you could think about on the drive home from the café.

You’d spent the afternoon squished in a booth meant for two people, except there were three of you. Your college roommates, Liz and Rei, had sat on either side as three spoons dug into a large caramel sundae whilst you all reminisced on your shared four years of hell aka university.

Eventually the conversation led to relationships and you were introduced to a concept you hadn’t exactly considered before today — what did people do for each other before the relationship had even begun?

There wasn’t exactly concrete parameters for this, but you soon figured out what it meant:

Liz’s boyfriend had paid such close attention to her that without realising, he’d recognised something as inconspicuous as a change in her perfume; “I only ever wear floral scents, that’s all I really like aside from the occasional autumn-y kind, but he still noticed! I literally just switched from a rose scent to a lilac one.” You’d found it quite simple yet sweet, nothing astounding but still a moment of recognition, especially considering how Liz held floral perfumes so closely to her identity. But the depth of her boyfriends actions became clearer when Liz explained how he made a note of every sort of scent she liked and what she kept going back to, and for his first gift he got her the perfect perfume to add to her collection. You didn’t think you could smile any wider as you watched your friend’s glittering eyes while she spoke.

Rei’s girlfriend, on the other hand, was somewhat of a psychological mastermind. Every time they’d pass each other on campus, Rei would receive a little pinkie promise from the girl. For what reason? She did not know. But ultimately, it became their “thing”, and soon enough, Rei felt incomplete in her day if she did not receive that beloved pinkie promise. As you sat beside her in the cafe, Rei took many small moments to hide her face in her hands as she recounted how after they started dating, her girlfriend admitted with her whole chest that the pinkie promises were a deliberate tactic to get Rei thinking about her. “It’s so bad you guys, I can’t pinkie promise anyone else. Ever. Like, they’re all for her now. She’s ruined pinkie promises for me but in the best way!” And Rei then went back to hiding behind her hands.

So now you were stuck in this predicament. As you sat there in your car, stopped at a red light, you recalled the days spent interacting with your boyfriend prior to dating and you wondered to yourself, did Park Sunghoon ever do anything, intentionally or unintentionally, that indicated his feelings for you?

more under cut !!

If memory served you right (and it was unbelievably easy to remember, considering you’d sat your friends down and gone over every interaction you and Sunghoon had ever shared each step of the way) … Well, nothing seemed to stand out to you.

Sunghoon wasn’t a boring person by any means, he was incredibly witty, a wry sort of sarcasm, and then when you got to know him more and he felt more comfortable around you, the louder side of Sunghoon would blossom — the one who thrived off of dad jokes, the one that secretly enjoying being the little spoon, the one that refused to let go of your hand any time you both stepped outside, the one who seemed just as in love with you as you did with him.

So why couldn’t you remember anything?

You carefully parked your car and took the elevator up to your apartment, wondering if you may have done anything preemptively romantic towards Sunghoon. In that regard there was a lot that could be remembered:

There was the tiramisu cupcake that you suggested when you both were studying together in your second year of uni (you heard him mutter something about wanting to try it and snagged the perfect opportunity to connect with the cute guy in your class).

There was your subtle yet not so subtle interest in figure skating which came out of left field, purely because you’d heard that the cute guy in class used to train professionally in the sport.

There were little details about him that you’d pick up and hold close and reminisce about in the late hours of night, when thoughts became velvety and water coloured and meaning made no sense because something like love doesn’t have any meaning, it simply is.

And yet you couldn’t think of a single thing from Sunghoon’s side.

Maybe he was just not that kind of person? Maybe he only said and did and felt things once he was committed to someone? Maybe the build up to a romance isn’t that important… It was hard to convince yourself of that last one. After all, the greatest love stories only mattered because people cared about said build up.

“Whatever,” you muttered to yourself as you got out of the elevator. Walking towards your apartment you started delving through the contents of your bag, looking for your keys whilst trying your hardest to push the curiosity out of your mind. “It’s stupid anyway.”

“What’s stupid?”

You jolt a little, quickly relaxing at the sight of Sunghoon unlocking the door to the apartment. “Oh. Um, nothing.” You smiled somewhat convincingly, promptly rising up on your toes to reach his cheek and kiss him hello.

“Nope,” he swerved just in time to meet your lips with his, pulling you closer with one hand whilst opening the door with the other. He pulled back ever so slightly to mumble something at you "Missed you." His voice was so soft you almost didn't catch what he said before he leaned forward again, gently guiding the two of you inside.

He was dizzying. So effortlessly magnetic. And the warmth of being with him would never get old. But that was exactly why you just had to know.

You pulled away to catch your breath, trailing your hands down his arms as you asked him, "Did you ever do anything, before we started dating, purely because you liked me?"

Sunghoon tilted his head a little, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you gave a little shrug, a small smile blooming on your lips as he laced his fingers through yours. “Anything, really. Like Liz’s boyfriend unintentionally memorised her favourite perfumes. And Rei’s girlfriend ruined pinkie promises.”

“I’m sorry, what?” He chuckled softly, helping you out of your jacket and taking off his own before tossing them onto one of your armchairs. “Did you… want me to, uh, ruin pinkie promise?”

You felt your face heat up. “No!” It was hard not to laugh at his gradually confused expressions, the little crease in forehead coupled with his pout made him look extra adorable in your eyes. Reaching for his hand, you guided him towards the couch and you both fell back on it with a sigh.

“I just mean that…” You trailed off, trying to find the words. Softly tracing the lines on his palm, you gave yourself a second before speaking again. “When I first liked you, I wanted to know you. Really know you. I wanted to learn about everything you loved and fall in love with it too.”

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “And… You don’t think I did?”

“No! No, no, I just meant that— Well, I tried remembering, ya know? Whether you did anything like Liz and Rei’s partners? And, um, I couldn’t.”

You felt yourself cringe at the end of the sentence. It was hard to explain your thoughts without the grating nausea of hurting the man you love with an assumption that basically summed up to “ I don’t think you love me enough ” Even though you knew that was far from the truth.

Sunghoon frowned a little, his thumb still caressing your fingers, but his eyes moved past you, staring off in the direction of your bedroom.

“Hoon… Listen, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Leaning forward, Sunghoon kissed you ever so gently before getting off the couch. “I need to show you something.”

You didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe it was something cute like a photo of you that he kept in one of his jacket pockets, or maybe he bought something just because you liked it, maybe he actually had said or done something to indicate that he loved you before he’d even told you.

He led you to the bedroom with a hesitant determination — an odd combination where his strides seemed confident but you recognised the signs of growing anxiety with the way he rubbed the back of his neck and kept stealing glances at you. When you both entered, Sunghoon headed for his side of the closet and started rummaging through his bags before finally fishing out his old college backpack.

“I honestly wanted to throw these sometimes, especially before we started dating because, well… What if we didn’t? Then all I’d have are these stupid things.”

You had no idea what he was referring to but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt, no matter how deep your curiosity ran. (Plus, it looked like he needed to say something, at least to push himself to show you whatever he was talking about).

He shuffled a little closer to you, biting back a smile that seemed to teeter on embarrassment. “Don’t laugh, I know this seems…odd. But I swear I didn’t know how else to deal it with.”

“Okay,” You laughed nervously, “Now you’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

Sunghoon reached inside his bag, with its coffee stains and enamel pins (both being curtesy of you) and he pulled out what looked like five letters, bound together by a rubber band.

You gave him a confused expression but took the letters carefully and walked towards the bed, hearing Sunghoon following after you. As you pulled each letter apart, you noticed they were all dated to before the both of you got together.

Finding the earliest one, you turned it over and went to open it before halting. “Can I?”

Sunghoon nodded, “Of course you can”

Carefully pulling out the paper, you unfolded it to read:

I knew I shouldn’t have taken elective Psych … but I did. And here we are.

Professor Yoon said that the unspoken desire is what gets left to fester. And I don’t think I really want this desire right now. I kinda just want to pass classes and go to a party or two. Maybe try some weed? I don’t know just the whole college experience.

So maybe if I get these desires out on a page and then toss them later on, maybe they won’t fester. I should submit this for extra credit. NO WTF AM I SAYING … Anyway

I saw someone today. No, correction, I met someone today. I can’t remember when I first saw her but I’ve been seeing her around ever since first year and holy shit knuckles she is dangerous she’s kinda cute

She’s in my business class. She’s got a smile like literal sunlight She always mumbles to herself when she’s confused or annoyed about something. It’s distracting.

I want to talk to her. Maybe tell her to stop with the mumbling? Yeah. I might do that.

You knew you were smiling — like literal sunlight apparently — but you didn’t want to stop no matter how much your cheeks hurt.

“Are they all like this?” You asked Sunghoon who’d shuffled closer to you as way to hide behind your shoulders inconspicuously.

“Well…”

You giggled and refusing to wait for his response, you went to the next letter. And then the next, and the next. You read through them at a ravaging pace, devouring every word, scoffing at every spot of denial, sighing against Sunghoon as you reread every compliment he gave, noticing how he stopped bothering to cross them out.

Then you finally reached the last letter.

Sunghoon had moved beside you, having started enjoying your reactions, he’d occasionally turned away, burying his face into your shoulder, but for the most part he’d read along with you.

At your hesitation to open the letter, he took it out of your hands and did it for you.

“You’ve gone this far, might as well go all the way.”

You smirked, “Even if it means more embarrassment?”

“Hey, I bagged you didn’t I?” Sunghoon lazily draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I think I win.”

“Uh huh.” His self obsessed tone was nothing short of entertaining, and while you’d normally give in to an opportunity for banter, the letter in his hands was more important.

It was short, a few lines at most, but your heart swelled as you read it:

I think i knew from the first letter, so I might as well admit it. I’m in love with Y/n. And I’m going to do something about it today. So this might be the last letter. I mean, it should be, right?

I know what her and I have is special, so, I should be able to tell my thoughts to her instead of telling it to paper. I should say them to her.

Yeah. I’ve decided. This is the last one.

Anyway, Yoon’s kind of an idiot. Those desires festered one way or another.

If this works out with her I could invite him to the wedding? Actually let’s not

A warmth embraced you as you folded the letter shut. Sunghoon held you closer to his chest, his lips brushing against your hairline.

You whispered, afraid that if you spoke louder you might choke up and cry. “This is what you meant by dealing with it?”

“Mhm.”

Your breathy laughs seemed to ease his tense shoulders and you felt him relax against you.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?” You moved away to look up at him.

His eyes darted across your face before settling on your hands, “I know I’m not great at always saying everything I’m thinking.”

You frowned “No, Sunghoon—”

“I’m not, I know that.” His fingers reached up to the tuck some of your hair away from your face. “But, I need you to know that I loved you like a millennia before I even told you. And even if I left it all unsaid, it doesn’t change that.”

You brushed your nose against his, your heart racing at the way his half lidded gaze was fixated on you. “I know, Sunghoon,” you whispered.

“Good. Because it’s been over thirty minutes since we last kissed and I’m feeling very neglected right now.”

You scoffed, looking away as you nudged his ribs gently. “Needy much?”

His laugh started a flurry in your chest. “Yeah. In need of you. Look at me.”

You willed yourself to turn back, immediately unable to control the sunbeam smile forming on your face. Sunghoon tilted your chin up ever so slightly, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw. The build up was bubbling inside — the need to go and grab something you want so badly and yet you hold off, because you know it’s worth the wait.

You both slowly moved closer, softly feeling the heat of each other’s breath on your cheeks, before Sunghoon finally pushed himself forward, a searing kiss sealing the trepidation.

It was so worth it. And as an added bonus of validation, you were right; the build up matters.

a.n: FINALLY HERE IS THE NEXT INSTALMENT !! i’ve been unbelievably busy, like . seriously.. uni has been beating me up but… i’ve got two weeks of mid sem break (or more like one and a half weeks now) and i plan to do some writing so pls be patient with me 🥲 anyway to whoever’s stuck around with me, i hope you enjoyed this one!! i had fun writing it xx

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf — @itsrinsdrs — @enjakey

2025 © yourislandgirl

[doughguts-art]

Been thinking about Louis since I doodled him yesterday, he's silly! :] (ft. my boy Bandit and a tiny Rastopolous as a cameo)

Love how you draw the guy! here's a little doodle of him myself. Thank you so much, always enjoy seeing your art ^^

[jeffrrandell]

Some shitty funny whiteboard doodles from last night, ft tiny cameos from my buddies @peach-jelly-lemon and @helicopterrrfunny on the drawing of Mark standing up lookin fabulous

[liyuviq]

amazing gifts (fanart, oc cameo, writings!) from likewise amazing people ❤︎

please check out their wonderful creations! 💞

not technically a gift but it’s the first art directed for me so <3 ۶ৎ @/rizdoodles

my first shin fanart that i will forever treasure ۶ৎ @/oya-oya-okay

shin sketch from my amazing moot ۶ৎ @/skibidibabygirl

my first fanart on my persona! ۶ৎ @/jadelover69

shin pixel art that started my rpg!shin brainrot ۶ৎ @/robo-milky

more rpg!shin + vn!cloche ۶ৎ @/robo-milky

the amazing breaking bad parody ft. shin & andy ۶ৎ @/rizdoodles

sequel to photoshoot with the pretty paoyu ۶ৎ @/teighveepao

the first appearance of silly shin ۶ৎ @/sherryclover

sequel to macarius’ and shin’s first meeting (ft.chione!) ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

two artworks featuring shuu & shin (celebrating shuu’s bday & slaying fashion) ۶ৎ @/sillybillymillyrilly

my first writing gift: shin & yuu friendship headcanons ۶ৎ @/danika-redgrave124

gumball!shin with many other wonderful gumballs ۶ৎ @/viperbunnies

shin’s tiny cameo (spying quartz) in the no yandere sim au ۶ৎ @/quartztwst

no yandere sim au: shin watching out for their bestie shuu ۶ৎ @/oya-oya-okay

cute twst ocs doodles including shin <3 ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

cute shin portrait by another lovely moot ۶ৎ @/sillybillymillyrilly

no yansim au: shin cameo in a very very cool animatics pls check this out ۶ৎ @/quartztwst

*fangirling* shin fanart by the one and only ۶ৎ @/anbaisai

shin has a cute admirer ☺️ ۶ৎ @/alli-ily

mini shin! mini shin! ۶ৎ @/justm3di0cr3

pretty shin doodle <3 ۶ৎ @/beneathsakurashade

shin smacking someone with a pillow & being a wet cat in a box 😭 ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

it’s a sleepover!!! ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

silly shin returns with silly vi!! ۶ৎ @/sherryclover

shinnn slaying valentine with otherss 💌 ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

shin: the human body part ۶ৎ @/cece-flii

prince shin & sir?dame? siyun gossiping abt rude nobles ۶ৎ @/lumdays

prince shin looking so charming ۶ৎ @/sherryclover

i got a valentine gift from my lovely moot ۶ৎ @/alli-ily

an amazing writing abt the shin fanclub, starting with ariya and shin’s interactions! ۶ৎ @/reixona

shin and grim being wholesome ۶ৎ @/viperbunnies

shin’s life in ramshackle with skye ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

heartshackle pillow fight ۶ৎ @/demonixoverlord

note to me: read this lovely message to feel better 💕💕 (with two adorable drawings as well!) ۶ৎ @/rizdoodles

no yan sim au: shin looking cool 😎 ۶ৎ @/kurstyxscave

shin as ranpo from bsd ۶ৎ @/alli-ily

a flower from eliana <3 ۶ৎ @/sherryclover

beautiful render of prince shin ۶ৎ @/spade-12

ahhh pretty shin pretty arttt ۶ৎ @/kazuww00

pretty shin…💕 ۶ৎ @/lucehe

sparkly shin ✨ ۶ৎ @/rizdoodles

they are baking a strawberry tart <3 ۶ৎ @/dgiterart

another lovely shin (pls save phyu) ۶ৎ @/spade-12

shin & rook in alchemy 💕 ۶ৎ @/oya-oya-okay

veridic fanart! ۶ৎ @/thatsadguymochi

smoll shin made a shocking discovery! ۶ৎ @/momordica

emotional support lilia ۶ৎ @/alli-ily

yeetable lilia ۶ৎ @/sherryclover

[hulknussen]

hello green 🙂‍↕️ could i get 31 from the 2nd list and/or 70 from the 3rd list for magthoor? thank you :)

2/31 - cursed/turned into an animal and/or 3/70 - grocery list. ft 2/32 - body swap. helloo yun thank you for making me write magthoor again… what I thought were both of your prompts got incorporated into this I apologize again but also I set it into our uni au so I hope that uninentionally makes up for it? 1.5kish words ft mildly suggestive talk and robin/ferdinand cameos

Dries leans forward to inspect himself—or, not himself?—closer in the mirror once more.

Kevin’s face is so… hairy. And, listen, objectively, Dries knew this. He’s seen Kev around plenty enough times to know that he has a beard to be jealous of. Even subjectively Dries knew this, still remembers it scraping against his lips while the shitty disco track playing in the background faded into Ballermusik for reasons Dries never learned.

But that memory is accompanied by the feeling of sitting on Kevin’s lap, with his hands low on Dries’ hips. Kevin’s beard isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind through the weed haze of it all.

Behind him, through the speaker of Dries’ phone, Kevin says, “Just wait for me to get there. It will probably—probably have an easy way to resolve this.”

It’s strange to hear his own voice speak with Kevin’s accent. At least Dries takes satisfaction in Kevin maintaining Dries’ lisp, if not as strongly.

“Yeah, sure,” Dries mocks. “I will just go kiss my TA, no problem.” Still he picks up the phone and leaves Kevin’s bathroom again.

“Like that’s ever stopped you before,” Kevin deadpans. And when he adds, “We don’t even know if it’s that,” he sounds far too unbothered for their situation.

Dries mumbles, “Yeah, maybe I need to suck you off, so much better,” but not low enough to not get picked up by his phone. Kevin-Dries coughs awkwardly on the other end. Dries never coughs awkwardly.

They’d be completely fucked if they had to keep this up for any longer than a day they’ll probably spend hidden away in Kevin’s tiny flat. Kevin supposedly did not even manage to sneak out of Dries’ bedroom without arousing suspicion from Robin and Ferdinand in the kitchen. (Kevin didn’t say, but if Dries knows one thing it’s that when they make breakfast together, they make it together. Obnoxiously so. Pancake batter on Robin’s nose while Ferdinand giggles at him lovingly sort of together.)

“Can you send me a pic of my grocery list on the fridge?” Kevin asks suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m getting groceries now. If I’m already out of the house.”

Dries stares at the wall for a moment, too stunned to speak. Then it occurs to him that Kevin is, well, Dries. “With my money?”

There’s a pause. It seems like Kevin forgot about that part, too. “… I’ll pay you back?”

Dries tries, “You’ll grade me a hundred on my next essay regardless of what it is?”

“Fuck off,” Kevin half-laughs on the other end. And sounding more miffed, he adds, “You get full marks on most shit, anyway.”

Warm pride fills Dries at those words. He walks to the fridge with what appears to be half a novel pinned to the fridge.

A non-marginal amount of it appears to be Kevin’s master thesis. As in, the actual thing, pages upon pages of text. Dries furrows his brows, eyes already catching on some of the familiar words there and luring him closer before he tears himself away. There are bills, too, some old and unpaid, revealing so much more than Dries knew about Kevin.

Finally, he finds the grocery list. It is in a mix of Danish and German, brand names or foods exclusive to the supermarkets here carelessly thrown in between the rest that Dries doesn’t understand. Dries snaps a picture and forwards it to Kevin.

Kevin complains to Dries that Dries forgot to charge his phone overnight and will have to hang up because of it. Dries thinks Kevin doesn’t get to complain at all considering Kevin’s phone wouldn’t open with a fingerprint scan. Dries had to wait until Kevin called him first, going out of his—Kevin’s—skin in the meantime.

He is remarkably calmer the second time around, after about two hours of being on the phone with Kevin. Maybe it’s the age leaving Kevin more relaxed than Dries. Part of Dries, however, thinks he might be so stressed and rapidly-approaching-burnout that he doesn’t have it in him to care about any single thing on top of the usual anymore. Even if it’s as substantial as this.

Dries tries his best not to snoop while still entertaining himself, which means he ends up reading through the disjointed papers clipped to Kevin’s fridge after all. Lots of stuff he sorta understands, sorta doesn’t just yet. But it makes him itch to sit down with Kevin’s thesis and dissect it properly, understand every little thing that it’s made up of. And Dries does, then, find himself a pen to correct a small spelling mistake he spotted.

It occurs to him that Kevin is writing a master thesis in his third language. It also occurs to him that, apparently, that’s a thing he’s into.

Not long after he goes to open the door for—Kevin. Even if he’s staring at himself. Even if they both stop in their tracks, staring at their mirror image, except it’s moving independently. There is a nasty headache brewing at the base of Dries’ skull.

Not-Dries is holding a bag of groceries as he stares at Dries. Then Dries snaps out of it, stepping away to let Kevin into his flat. Not that it keeps Dries from staring.

Like on autopilot Kevin walks to the kitchen and places the bag on the counter. But he doesn’t move to unpack anything. Just stands with his back to Dries.

“So…” Dries begins.

Kevin turns around to look at him again.

“Kiss?” Dries tries hopefully. That’s usually how it goes, anyway. And he doesn’t want to put all of his eggs into one basket, but he does-sorta-really-strongly hope that a simple peck on the lips will fix it and they can consider if they accidentally did LSD together yesterday evening and just forgot. Or something.

“Yeah,” Kevin says quietly.

Standing in front of each other, closer, only makes it weirder. Dries doesn’t know how he’s supposed to kiss himself. It brings out a wave of insecurity, the thought how did anyone want to ever kiss me? he decides not to examine right now. It’s probably different if the other person isn’t looking at themselves.

And it occurs to him, too, that he hasn’t actually kissed Kevin a lot. The first time of course, the first time that threw everything off-kilter. That first time that lead to Dries missing way too many things in his classes because he was busy remembering the feeling of Kevin’s lips against his. That lead to Dries thinking Kevin was kinda cute when he got flustered because he projected the wrong slide onto the wall instead of letting it pass and forgetting about it like everyone else in the damn hall.

Then there was that second time, in the library. It’d be far too late for anyone to still be out, but Dries had managed to convince himself to finally sit down and cram through the assignments he couldn’t do on his own because he didn’t have the texts and references for it.

Kevin had found him in the deepest corner of the library, which just so happened to be the corner with their texts, too. Dries blames being tired and having spent the past week rushing from class to work to whatever thing he got invited to in the evening when he’d crowded Kevin against the bookshelf to press their mouths together.

There was no one to blame except himself for that one, but he thinks it was worth it. At least for how it kept him going throughout the week, drifting off into daydreams of the now refreshed feeling while the coffee machine at work did its thing.

(He came to regret it thoroughly when he had to show up to class on Monday morning, sitting down at his usual spot while Kevin prepped for the lecture at the front. But before that—definitely worth it.)

Now Not-Dries takes Dries’ face into his hand to give him a quick kiss. It’s a bit juvenile, how hesitant they are about it. Like it’s the most disgusting thing in the world. But it really is, kissing yourself. Dries doesn’t like it.

He does, then, like it when he realizes he’s staring back at Kevin’s face shortly after. Even if he’s dizzy and gripping his head with how his eyes hurt from the sudden switch.

Dries likes it even more when Kevin—the actual, real Kevin, this time—reaches for Dries’ face once more. It’s startling, and it’s so fucking good to feel Kevin’s lips against his again that the panicked confusion of the entire morning all but fades away. Kevin is warm and steady against Dries, and tastes of the same toothpaste Dries had brushed Kevin’s teeth with earlier.

“Wait,” Dries breathes out. “On your master thesis—”

“What?”

“Why did you choose low pH for the- the empty and full AAV3B differences?”

Kevin looks at him. Long. Dries returns the stare, breathing heavily.

Then Kevin mutters, “It’s the usual setting for eluting the capsids in affinity chromatography.”

Dries’ brain is still droning with the new knowledge when Kevin leans in again, and the pleasure of getting his curiosity sated melts together with the feeling of Kevin’s tongue against Dries’ lips until Dries just hums contently.

Maybe making out with his TA isn’t that bad of an idea after all.

[drunkintergalacticemotions]

Help Me Decide Which Fic to Work On

Hazbin Hotel Ranchers AU: Tango and Jimmy both die in a car accident, Tango wakes up in hell during the angel extermination without Jimmy. While searching for his husband he makes friends, allies, enemies, and even encounters some people from his past he never thought he'd see again.

I have the second chapter started, and a chapter far down the line written, so 1.5 chapters total written.

He’s utterly alone, and he has no idea where he is. Not a single person occupies the street with him, and the location is completely and wholly unfamiliar to him. And everything is bathed in the bright red light.  Looking up, he sees black clouds dotting the sky, and tiny figures flying around them. More of them emerge from a bright yellow circle in the sky. The sun?  “Hello?” he calls out, because what else is he going to do? He just died, and woke up on the sidewalk of a burning street, with a bright red sky above him- Oh. Oh fuck. He just died. He stumbles, because he doubts heaven has red skies. He’s in hell.

Mad Max desert duo AU: Grian has been surviving, alone in the wastelands nearly his entire life. Scar is determined to be friends. Buckle up everyone, this one's a tragedy.

The first chapter for this one is started

This close, he can see the definition in the man’s muscles, the bulk to his body, the scars running along his arm and face. Some small, some looking big enough to kill. This isn’t a man who goes hungry, this isn’t a man unused to a fight. This is a man who isn’t just surviving the wasteland, but thriving in it.  Grian gives a thunderous cry, pouring all his fury into it, in the desperate hope to scare the man away. To tell him I will not go down without a fight. I will not go quietly. I will not be an easy kill.  Still the man pulls him ever closer. This near, he can see the easy smile adorning his face.

From inspired horror AU feat just about everyone: Don't know what From is? don't worry about it, I'm taking loose inspiration. Our cast of characters are trapped in a town they can't leave, where human looking supernatural monsters come out at night to torture and kill anyone they catch out after dark. Follows a lot of different characters across life series, hermitcraft, and empires. Will feature lots of character death

I have two chapters fully written for this one, a third started, and another chapter further down the line started

“SHUBBLE!” he despairs, his voice cracking at the rough usage.  It’s only because he’s scanning the tree line so intently that he spots it so immediately. One lone girl, walking calmly towards him, a wide smile on her face.  Had it been darker, or if Oli were a fool, he might have fallen for it. Instead, he takes two quick steps backwards into the house, and slums the back door shut. Locks it firmly. Runs to the front door.  Nobody stands in his way this time, hugging the walls, tears in their eyes. Katherine’s loud sobs fill the silence. Oli tramples through.  “Pearl!” he shouts, right as she slams the front door shut.  “I saw,” she says, throwing the lock shut. She hangs her head, facing the door rather than the crowds behind her. 

Westworld flower husbands AU: this says flower husbands but really it follows a lot of characters. A western-themed park populated by human looking androids for guests to come in and do as they please. Often horrible things. Some of the androids are becoming more aware. Hermitcraft characters as the park operators, empires as the androids, cameos of DSMP characters as the guests. Chapters alternate between the hermitcraft and the empires characters.

I have two chapters for this fully written, and a third started.

He knows who this must be, and he knows why he must be here, still he asks with gritted teeth “who do you think you are, riding in on a dead man’s stolen horse?”  The man beneath the blanket grins, “Why, I imagine I might be the man who killed him!”  And he raises his arms, throwing off his blanket with a flourish, unveiling Joel the bandit leader, murderer of the last sheriff, terror of the hills.  “You-!” he reaches for his holster, only for his heart to sink as he comes up empty handed.  He left it in the office. Joel laughs, a loud ugly thing, “Looks like I’m two for two lads!” he shouts, bringing up his own pistol, and shooting Jimmy square in the chest.

SBI the Host AU: fair warning, this one is Wilbur centric. Started it before he got outed as an abuser, and obviously stopped working on it in the mean time, but I suppose I'd like to gauge interest now that it's been a little while. Alien invasion/invasion of the body snatchers, that creeping sensation where you know something is off but you don't know what.

I have the first chapter for this written, and the second started.

Wilbur opens the front door to his younger brother screaming “I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”  Wilbur reminds himself that Tommy is thirteen, and thirteen year olds feel things very strongly; especially indignance and injustice. It’s very easy to believe the entire world’s against you when you’re thirteen years old.  “Tommy,” his father’s voice floats down from the living room, exhaustion and anger all in one, “Sometimes your actions have consequences. This is one of those times. If you hadn’t lied to me-”  Tommy gives a veritable scream of fury before stomping footsteps mark his path upstairs, and the slamming of his bedroom door marks his retreat. Tommy had always been a loud boy; a loud baby, a loud toddler, and now a loud teenager entering puberty with all the subtlety of a freight train. 

Sequel to The Strange Card: What it says on the tin, the sequel to my TCG AU posted this summer. Follow Jimmy as he enters his first tournament, though things are not as easy as he'd hope!

I have the first chapter for this one started

“Yeesh, you guys look rough.” A familiar voice answers, and Jimmy perks up immediately.  “Tango!” he exclaims, nearly vaulting the counter to greet him properly.  Tango has, thankfully, put away his cargo pants in lieu of cargo shorts due to the heat wave, though he had not relinquished the combat boots nor punk vest.  “Why is it hotter inside than out there?” he asks, thumbing the front door. There are visible heat waves coming off the concrete parking lot.  Martyn slams his face into the counter “I don’t know!” He moans. “The A.C. isn’t broken, the thermostat is set to go as cool as it can, and yet!” he waves his arms around him at the sweating customers and dying staff. 

If any of you care enough to rig, be my guest. Also I cannot promise to abide by the results of this poll but I am keen to see which of these intrigues people the most

[insert-the-4thwall-entity]

Ever since I became aware of Undertale i knew/know that some people here are simps for the lazybones that is sans thy skeleton. But ever since yesterday( or at least when i was checking a blog who's pretty prominent in the 'Bitty Bones' au stuff ) i now know a certain trend some people tend to use for their boney fantasies - 'Bara' sans. And then I had an idea. After a night and a morning passed with me brainstorming in the seams, i now have made a semi-sh1tpost, semi-genuine response AU to that trend :

The 'When Skeletons eat Bonemeal' au.

[The pic features a height comparison of post and pre growth spurt sans with other characters + me. Also yes, I am that short ( I'm 5'4-ish?)]

The basic idea is the following :

In another post-true pacifist world, Flowey tries to to a lil' trollin' by poisoning sans with a poison lasted ketchup bottle with a poison that Flowey made himself, but sans knew before hand, so he decided to swap an ingredient with magic liquid(-ish) bonemeal. On top of that he knew what would come out of it, which is a fcking growth serum AND he was secretly getting tiered of being the second to shortest person of the cast, he just didn't expect the side effects. Those side effects being the end result of 22 ft, clothes being effected, energy, power and magic multiplication, sudden medium burst of productivity, constant fever and slight mutation. Now the rest of the UT cast, along with a newly free [from thy void] Gaster, Dess from Deltarune and lil' ol' me, has to deal with a big ass skeleton.

Oh, the multiverse, omniverse( multiverse of fandoms w/multiverses ) and the webscape( the internet if it was a world of it's own and where 4th wall entities like me( viewers, content creators, gamers, players, ect. ) usually reside in ) are also sorta involved, which explains why core!Frisk, @ranboolivesaysstuff and fcking Charlie slimesicle have a cameo here -

[context of the cameo doodle - it's a protentional bit were i was unexpectedly visited by some MC-youtubers and i had to explain what the fck is up. During said explanation i accidently made a size pun, which made Charlie amused, in an annoying way. What did our gloopy glunkus guy do next - he bothered me for more size puns while trying to make his own. I also hid in a tree at some point and pretty much claimed it as a resting spot.]

So yeah, an undertale au with a giant/tiny sorta theme, which is also a response to the 'Bara sans' concept.

[wheeboo]

love surge | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which soonyoung experiences a love surge whenever he's with you. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader (ft. a mention of wonwoo, latte, and small cameo of nct's doyoung) GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. reader wears a dress to prom, someone give soonyoung a medal for having a crush on reader for a whole ass three years, bro is WHIPPED™️, mild language, one suggestive scene, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 4.8k

notes: u guys know how he vibrates whenever he's excited?? heh,,

The first time Kwon Soonyoung experienced a love surge was when he was fourteen years old.

He didn't know what to make of it at the time. Usually it would be a reaction to something cute or exciting𑁋like the many occurrences of the neighbourhood kittens strolling along the sidewalk on his way home from school, or the time he won a tiger plushie from the claw machine at the arcade.

It's as if his body would experience this sudden burst of energy, an uncontrollable fluttering that made him feel like he could run a marathon or jump to the moon, and he'd be left grinning ear to ear.

But this time, it wasn't a kitten or a plushie.

No, it was a person.

A new school year meant new people. New classmates, new faces, and new things to get used to. Soonyoung had never really thought much about it𑁋he was the kind of kid who could make friends easily, who moved through life with an easy smile and a boundless energy that drew people to him. Though he did have his own worries and anxieties about being a fresh new fish in high school, he was quite excited for what the future held for him now.

However, it had been exactly six minutes after class started that the door opened one last, final time.

The face he sees emerges into the room is one full of panic and a hint of embarrassment. Soonyoung catches your apprehensive eyes as you gaze around the room, searching for an empty seat, briefly landing on his eyes and the barren seat that was just conveniently the only one left in the room.

A small mutter of indecipherable apologies leaves your mouth towards the teacher as you slip your way throughout the classroom, feeling nearly everyone's eyes on you while nearly stumbling over other student's backpacks on the floor. The second you land at the empty spot right next to him, Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat.

It's almost as if his brain is struggling to register your presence right next to him, watching the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before fumbling for something inside your backpack.

Then your eyes furrow together defeatedly, and nothing could prepare Soonyoung when you turn towards him.

"Um..." You mumble quietly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. "Hi, uh... do you happen to have an extra pencil with you?"

Soonyoung blinks, realising you were talking to him. "Pencil? Oh, yeah..." He reaches for his pencil bag, fishing out the first one he grabs ahold of and offers it over to you. "Here you go."

"Thanks so much," You say with relief, accepting the pencil with a cute, shy smile. Your fingers briefly touch, and the glance you both exchange afterwards seems to fill with a soft, awkward charm. "I'll make sure to bring it to you back after class, uh..."

Soonyoung brightens up. "Soonyoung!" Then he lowers his voice from how loud he seemed. "It's... Kwon Soonyoung."

"Kwon Soonyoung." The curl to your lips tug slightly more upward, and Soonyoung's heart does a little jump at the sight. "I'm Y/N."

Y/N, he repeats in his head.

His palms suddenly feel warm, and he has to ball his hands into fists at his side to stop his hands and legs from shaking and the jolt of excitement that ripples through his body. He can feel his heart thumping forcefully against his ribcage, like a thousand tiny fireworks going off all at once in his chest, and he can't tell whether it's from nervousness or pure exhilaration. Maybe both, at this point.

As class passes by, he notices the way you mindlessly doodle with the pencil he gave you, and for some reason, it makes him absurdly happy. He wonders if you'll return the pencil after class, and part of him hopes you don't. That way, he'll have an excuse to talk to you again.

Honestly, he might literally burst from the grin spreading across his face. It's a surge unlike any other one he's had before. And it's not from a game or a cute animal𑁋it's from you.

By the time class ends, you do seem to forget to give Soonyoung his pencil back, and you drift through the class too quickly that he isn't able to catch up with you before you're out the door. His shoulders slump as he fails to catch any sight of you in the crowded hallways.

Though as he shakes off the disappointment on the way to his next class, he feels that surge again. It brings a skip to his step that nearly makes him trip on his shoelace; a hopeful flutter to his heart; a smile to his face that refuses to fade for the rest of the day.

Fourteen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung doesn't really understand what having a crush is like or what love really is yet, but he knows this: whatever that feeling was, he hopes it happens again.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung tied his own tie for the very first time.

It took him approximately nine tries to finally perfect it. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the crispest shirt he owns, freshly ironed by his mother just an hour prior. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, Soonyoung smooths over his suit one last time before turning around and taking the longest, deepest breath known to mankind.

Prom is supposed to be a night of fun, celebrating the end of high school and the journey he's about to embark on in life. He's quite excited on where life and time is about to take him, to be honest. But he tries not to think too much about that right now𑁋today is about today only.

Soonyoung finds himself squished in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with his friends, all chatting enthusiastically about the night ahead as they head to the venue. Music pumps loudly through the car's speakers, vibrating through the cramped space, and he's sure as hell that other cars could hear just the amount of excitement that was pouring out from the vehicle and into the cool, night air. But he doesn't care, nor do his friends.

The venue for prom is romantically lit and decorated, with fairy lights lining the entrance inside. Other students mingle, all dressed in their finest attire, posing for photos together with friends or with dates. Soonyoung and his friends spill out of the car, laughter and chatter flowing freely. After taking a few group photos outside, they finally head into the venue.

The night is filled with camaraderie as it progresses. Soonyoung lets himself lose on the dance floor as he spins and laughs with his friends and other students alike. His heart pounds to the beat of the music, the pulsating lights making everything feel surreal. At one point though, he drifts away from the group, deciding to take a break and grab a drink from the refreshment table.

Cold water cools down his throat as he glances around the venue, taking in the sight of everyone enjoying themselves. For a moment, Soonyoung leans against the refreshment table, savouring the moment, eyes searching around for something he wasn't entirely sure of𑁋until his gaze locks onto you.

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor. The dress that you wear shimmers softly under the lights. You look so effortlessly beautiful, like a scene out of a dream, and all the words he could ever think of scatter in his mind.

He hadn't forgotten about you, not in the slightest. Over the years, you'd become pretty good friends he would say, sharing a few mutual classes, bumping into each other in the hallway, exchanging quiet, lighthearted conversations and laughter whenever the teacher was lecturing and occasional banter. But Soonyoung realises he had never done exactly anything about the small, tiny crush he developed for you over time as he was dumbly scared to admit it.

And the feelings resurface all from a singular glance in your direction.

However, something else he catches is the way you appear seemingly torn between glancing down at your phone and back towards the sea of people passing by you in all sort of directions. You don't look... happy; if anything, you seem a bit lost, maybe even a little overwhelmed.

Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether to approach you or not. But then he decides to suck it up, and without anymore thought, he pushes himself away from the refreshment table and trails over to you, sliding his way past clusters of people, dodging swinging arms and spinning bodies until he finally reaches you.

You don't notice him at first, your attention still flitting nervously between your phone and the crowd, but Soonyoung clears his throat softly.

"Y/N?" he calls out to you, voice coming out a bit cracked.

You jump slightly, startled by the sudden voice cutting through your thoughts as you turn around. When your eyes meet his, Soonyoung watches your shoulders visibly relax.

"Soonyoung?" Then your gaze roams over him, taking him in with a small smile. "Wow, I almost didn't recognise you. You look great."

Soonyoung forces out a quiet chuckle, feeling warmth creep up his body, bashful hands coming to scratch the back of his neck.

"Thanks," he mutters, eyes trailing down towards the ground. "And you look... really beautiful tonight too."

You peer down at yourself, feeling the smile on your face widen ever so slightly at his words. "Thank you, Soonyoung."

A brief pause comes between you two as you both search for something to say. Once again, he watches you glance between your phone, to the crowd, and back to him again. There's some sort of apprehension in your eyes, and his brows furrow in concern.

"Are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, almost too quiet he isn't sure if you heard him at first.

You seem to hesitate for a moment before offering a small, forced smile. "Yeah, I just..." Then you purse your lips together. "You don't happen to have seen Minhyun around here, right?"

Minhyun? "Minhyun?" Soonyoung racks his brain for a moment, searching for that particular name through his crowded mind. "As in Minhyun from... the basketball team?"

"Yeah, him," You respond with a nod. "He's... my date for tonight, but uh... I think he ditched me. He was with me earlier and said he'd be right back. I've been looking for him for twenty minutes and he's not responding to any of my texts."

It's almost as if a hand reached its way into Soonyoung's chest, giving his heart a tight, worried squeeze, as well as a bit of frustration coursing through him. How could someone ever ditch their own date for prom? Let alone, out of all people, ditch you?

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, before his face brightens with determination. "Do you want me to help you look for him? I could ask around."

Immediately, you shake your head. "No, that's okay, Soonyoung. I appreciate it, though."

"Are you sure?" he urges gently. "I could... keep you company while you wait for him, maybe? Or we𑁋"

"Soonyoung," You cut his words off with a soft, tired chuckle, yet with a hint of firmness. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to ruin your night."

Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest, but the look in your eyes stops him. Still, his heart clenches at the thought of you standing here all alone, waiting for someone who might not even come back.

"I'll just head outside and wait for him," You tell him. "You go ahead and enjoy the night, okay?"

Before he could say anything more, you're brushing past him and heading towards the exit. Soonyoung watches you as you disappear through the crowd, the sparkle of your dress fading into the shadows of the venue's door. His chest tightens as a wave of disappointment washes over him, and for a moment, he just stands there, conflicted. Part of him wants to let you be, respect your decision, and go back to his friends. But the other part of him𑁋the one that's been harbouring this quiet, persistent crush for years𑁋won't let him just walk away.

However, as he attempts to take a step in your direction, a hand lands at his shoulder.

"Soonyoung! Come on, they're about to play the Cupid Shuffle," Doyoung exclaims, pulling him towards the dance floor with excitement.

For one last time, Soonyoung glances over his shoulder and towards the doors you just left. However, Doyoung continues dragging him by the ear towards the dance floor and where the rest of his friends are, already getting in position to start dancing. The familiar rhythm of the Cupid Shuffle takes over the room, and for a few minutes, Soonyoung lets the music take over. He joins in with the laughter and energy, moving in sync with his friends and the rest of the crowd.

Yet it's hard to shake off the lingering worry even while dancing, this ache to his limbs that causes his lively moments to be more subdued. Each second that passes, this pang of guilt hits him even harder.

He doesn't want to see you like that𑁋alone, waiting for someone who doesn't deserve you.

Soonyoung clenches his fists and makes a decision.

Suddenly, as if on autopilot, he finds himself drifting away from the dance floor and his friends and towards the exit of the venue. The night had gotten a little more cooler, hitting him square in the face the second he steps out. But he fixes his attention on finding you.

It doesn't him take long. He catches the familiar sparkle and colour of your dress, seeing you perched on a lone stone bench away from everybody else.

Your phone sits idly right next to you, gaze lost ahead on the packed parking lot.

"Y/N?"

You whisk your head around, catching Soonyoung slowly making his way towards you.

"Soonyoung? What are you..." You swiftly smooth out your dress with your hands. "I told you that I'll be fine."

"Well, I was never really good at following directions anyway..." He pauses when he comes in front of you. "Um... can I sit next to you?"

You give him a small nod.

Soonyoung casually places himself next to you on the bench, feeling the chill of the evening air but more focused on the warmth of being beside you. He glances at you, noticing the faint traces of concern still etched on your face.

"He didn't come, did he?"

You smile faintly at that, before it falters immediately. "No."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," You assure him. "Honestly, in a way, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't."

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at that. "Really?"

"Mhm." You fiddle nervously with the bracelet around your wrist. "My friends set me up with him, even though I didn't exactly want to go to prom in the first place. But I just felt... obligated to, you know? Then I spent about two hundred dollars on a dress I'll only wear for one day in my life. But when Minhyun didn't show up, it was almost relieving, I guess. It just felt like one less thing I had to pretend to enjoy."

There's a brief pause as Soonyoung takes in your words and the way the moonlight reflects off your dress, the way your hair is perfectly styled and the incoming breeze that tousles it just a bit.

"If it makes you feel any better," Soonyoung starts, scooting a bit closer to you. "I... still think you look really pretty."

For a moment, you blink at his words, before the giggle you let out afterwards appears more natural, light-hearted, and genuine than all of the fake smiles you've plastered on throughout the night. Soonyoung can't help but let out a few soft, somewhat awkward laughs himself, a wave of accomplishment flowing through him.

You glance at Soonyoung, taking in his slouched posture, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and the easy, almost boyish grin that seems to settle into place whenever he's around you. You don't ever recall spending alone time with him in the few years you've known him around school.

You've always been used to his energetic attitude, this infectious brightness that follows him anywhere and everywhere. It's a bit strange to witness this side of him, but the comfort of his presence right now feels oddly right.

"It's a bit too early for prom to end right now." He faces towards you eagerly. "We should do something."

You lift a brow. "Like what?"

Soonyoung nips the bottom of his lip in contemplation, before he abruptly stands up and offers a hand toward you in this goofy, gentlemanly fashion.

Your eyes widen as you look up at him. "Soonyoung..."

"May I have this dance?" His lips quirk up into a playful grin.

You look around the area, noticing that there was no one else in sight. It was just the two of you outside right now.

"You know that I can't dance," You say to him.

"That's okay," Soonyoung reassures you. "I know that you didn't want to come to prom, but... let me at least make it worth it for you. I can be your date for a few minutes, if you want."

I can be your date for a few minutes. The words bounce off the walls in your head, and the flutter you feel in your heart warms your face.

With some slight hesitation, you allow him to take your hand, and he practically makes you leap off the cold-stoned bench and towards a more secluded part of the parking lot, right under the glow of a streetlamp. The noise from prom fades away into the background.

Soonyoung faces toward you, and the gleeful grin on his face melts away into a softened, almost sheepish look.

"You can, um... put your hands right here. On my shoulders. And I’ll place my hands... here," Soonyoung instructs with a nervous chuckle, hands hovering near your waist. "If that's alright with you."

Soonyoung doesn't exactly know why he's suddenly feeling so bold. Maybe it's because he's spent quite literally almost all of his high school years admiring you silently from afar, or because tonight has been a rollercoaster of its own and he's realised that he doesn't want to waste this chance with you.

Placing your hands tentatively on his shoulders, his hands gently settle on your waist. Admittedly, it's a bit clumsy, awkward as you both just stand there, feeling the cool breeze against your skin and the faint hum of music from inside the venue. However, it seems to melt away when you both start slowly swaying back and forth.

"Try not to step on my feet," he mutters cheesily.

"Okay, mister professional," You tease amusedly, nerves settling as you adjust your feet so that you don't accidentally step on him with your heels.

As you both sway along a comfortable rhythm, Soonyoung continues to gaze at you. Not in a weird way𑁋at least, he hopes he's not𑁋but with a kind of adoration he's sure everyone could read on his face. It feels natural, this simple dance beneath the streetlamp, like a small piece of the prom night that was meant for just the two of you.

You gaze up at him wonderingly, squeezing his shoulder to get his attention. "What?"

"I..." Gosh, Soonyoung, snap out of it! "You're just... really pretty. That's all."

His words come out quiet and almost all mumbles as he hangs his head down low to the ground.

"You've told me that three times tonight," You remind him playfully. "in the span of an hour."

"I-I'll stop. I'm sorry𑁋"

"You don't have to stop," You cut him off softly, voice tinged with a smile. "But if you wanted to ask me out, you know... I wouldn't say no. No need to be shy about it."

Your words make Soonyoung freeze in place, his hands still on your waist. Along with the night, he holds his breath. For a moment, Soonyoung's brain short circuits, and all he can do is blink at you in disbelief.

"Y-You wouldn't?" he stammers.

You shake your head softly, that small smile still lingering. "No. I wouldn't."

Soonyoung's hands instinctively tighten just a little around your waist, as if he's afraid you might slip away. He clears his throat, trying to muster up some confidence.

"So... I could be your date a little longer than a few minutes?"

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you meet his nervous gaze, your fingers unconsciously tightening their hold on his shoulders.

"You could be my date for the rest of this night. Or this week. Or however long you want, Soonyoung."

There's that surge again𑁋a rush of warmth that sweeps through Soonyoung's entire body from top to bottom and making him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. He feels his pulse quickening, his heart racing, and the mask that was suppressing his giddiness all finally shed light. He's certain that you could feel it, too.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung feels as though he's stepped into a dream. Perhaps the universe had listened to his wishes all along.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had been told that high school relationships rarely ever last.

Well, to be fair, the two of you got together at the end of the year, so did it really count? He doesn't exactly know. But he's seen friends of his own break up with their supposed 'high school sweethearts'𑁋the ones where they've promised marriage and eternity and everlasting love𑁋and he'd been warned time and time again that those relationships often fizzle out when faced with the realities of adulthood.

But here he is, twenty-two, and still with you.

Soonyoung finds himself sitting at the dining table, laptop propped up in front of him, finally submitting his last assignment of the entire school year. And when he does, he shuts his laptop close, leaps out of the chair, and pumps his fist up into the air in victory.

"Yes!" he exclaims proudly into the empty apartment. "I'm done!"

He lets out a whoop of excitement, a grin stretching across his face from ear to ear. Finally the past few weeks of late nights and strenuous studying have paid off, and now, he gets to relax.

More importantly, he gets to relax with you.

As he's tidying up the apartment, the click of the door lock grabs his attention. His face lights up, and he quickly finishes putting away the last of the dishes, making a beeline straight to the front door.

You're walking in with a couple grocery bags, yet nearly drop them when a pair of arms wrap around you.

"Soonie! What the𑁋"

"I just submitted my last assignment, baby!" Soonyoung announces to you eagerly, arms squeezing around you in a tight hug. "We're done with school!"

When he pulls away, you give him a quick kiss to his cheek. "For now."

Soonyoung pouts slightly as you slip past him and towards the kitchen, beginning to put away the grocery bags. "Aw, come on, you're not excited for me?"

You chuckle at that. "Of course I am."

"But you're not showing it!"

You turn around, and Soonyoung is already standing in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, feigning a dejected look to his features𑁋a look that you know so well.

You could only let out a sigh, extending a hand to tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer to you.

"I'm proud of you, Soonie," You tell him warmly, watching the way his expression softens when he's this close to you. You let your fingers trace shapes up and down his arm. "I really am."

As another grin makes its way across his face, Soonyoung feels that familiar surge of energy𑁋of love𑁋course through him, and he wraps his arms around you once more to lift you up onto the counter. You yelp out a surprised giggle at his gesture, instinctively circling your arms around his neck for support. His eyes never leave yours as he gently sets you down, his hands resting lightly on your hips, face just inches from yours.

Soonyoung always feels like he might burst from happiness when he's this close to you, even in the few years you've been together now. He knows it's a feeling that won't go away, not now, not ever, not anytime soon.

"Gosh, you're so pretty, you know that?" He kisses you so softly, careful not to let all of his affection spill out right now. "So fuckin' gorgeous..."

"Okay, handsome, what happened to 'we're done with school'?" You tease gently, sighing quietly when his lips meet the skin of your shoulder. "Don't you want to make plans?"

"I have plans, alright," Soonyoung mutters against your skin, his lips brushing softly against your collarbone. "And you don't have to do anything else, m'kay?"

You tilt your head back slightly, gazing at him with amusement. "Are you sure that's all you need from me?"

"Hmm, a few more kisses wouldn't hurt, and I'll do the rest, yeah?" Soonyoung suggests playfully, already puckering his lips out for you. "Can I take care of you, please?"

You just giggle, taking his face in your hands and instead of kissing his lips, you press one right to the tip of his nose. "Whatever you want, Soonie."

The love surge that has been building up in his system finally releases its way out of his body, bursting out of him and consuming his entire being the second your mouth meets his. He's swift to pull you close and lift you effortlessly off the counter, his feet bringing him in the direction of the bedroom, your laughter mingling together and bouncing off the walls.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung is convinced that no matter how much love he feels or how many times he shows it, there will always be more to give.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung finds that the word home has taken on a new meaning over the years.

Sure, he can find his proper comfort in the physical aspect, but it's different when you are in it with him.

Just like now, with you simply laying right next to him in bed, with Latte settled on your other side and body encased by the warmth of the duvet. Soonyoung doesn't think this is a sight he can wake up to every day; he knows it'll be a sight he'll have the privilege of cherishing for the rest of his life.

"Baby?"

"Hm...?"

He giggles lowly at the way your voice sounds so sleepy and content. Carefully, he presses his body up more against you, slipping one of his arms over you and the other under your pillow to draw you even closer to him. Your legs tangle even more together underneath the duvet, and he can't help but smile at how perfectly you fit against him.

"Hi," he whispers playfully into your ear, causing your nose to crinkle endearingly.

Yet instead of pushing him away, you flip over in his hold, nestling your head on his chest and muttering out a drowsy hi against him. Your arm wraps around his waist, and you let out a content sigh as you press a soft kiss to his neck. Soonyoung lets out an airy sigh, feeling the cold metal of the ring on your finger meet the skin of his back where his shirt had ridden up a little.

Even with years of being together, this routine of morning snuggles hasn't changed one bit; if anything, you seem to initiate more of the cuddles these days, and he doesn't mind it at all. Not one bit.

Latte curls her way into a more comfortable ball against your back as Soonyoung runs his hand under your shirt just slightly to trace his fingertips over the skin of your spine.

As he holds you for a few more, long minutes, Soonyoung separates himself a little, not to fully let go of you but just to capture his first glimpse of your face for the day.

"So pretty," he says, poking softly at your cheek. It's probably his quadrillionth time telling you that and every possible synonym of it, but it never seems to lose its meaning.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open to peer at him with a groggy but affectionate gaze.

"I love you."

Soonyoung blinks dazedly. Somehow, still always, he's always caught by surprise whenever you say those three little words to him. He's been hearing them for years now, every day and every night, but every time, it feels like the first.

It's almost ridiculous to admit how much of an effect you have on him still, how much you've managed to wrap him around your finger since the first time you met, but the heavens only know how grateful he is for it.

"I love you too."

Then his lips curl up into cheesy grin, and the surge of love that courses through him once more makes him tightly wrap his arms around you, causing you to stuff your face into his chest. You feel his body vibrate around you, muffling your giggles in his embrace, and accidentally jerking Latte awake with a soft whine.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had finally discovered the meaning of home and love.

And it's you.

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@ahuiahoe

[makenna-made-this]

If you need to take a minute to destress and calm down in these unsure times, may I offer a virtual chicken snuggle to soothe the soul?

[crystalmooncrossing]

🍔 Dingo's Diner 🍟

(Or at least my take on it via Happy Home Designer)

[just-come-baek]

ghosting you

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

Themes: 18+ | smut | fluff | comedy/crack | hauntedhouse!au (not in a scary way) | kind of exes to friends to loves!au (but not technically) | SLOWBURN

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. 

Warnings: cursing | casual drinking | mentions of ghosts (shenanigans) (again, not in a scary way) | trespassing | antique weaponry | mentions of weed | jaemin gets scammed | mentions of cheating | jaemin and reader fake date for a minute | mentions of human remains 

Smut warnings: sexual innuendos | teasing | a lot of making out | dirty talk | oral (female receiving) | fingering | spitting | unprotected sex (just don’t) | a blowjob | slight throat fucking | cum eating | protected sex (better) | scratching | love marks/marking

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.”

[here2bbtstrash]

HI! I wanted to say I love your idol joonie one shot I enjoyed reading it it was amazing. If only the OC can be invited on tour and ride him backstage before he starts the show.

five minutes (explicit)

genre: smutty lil drabble!! and me popping my request cherry >:)

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: your fuckbuddy has a graduation gift for you, but he might have overestimated your self-control.

this is a companion fic to my oneshot park and ride! read that one first if you want to get all the references, or don't, i'm not your mom

word count: 2.6k

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ idol verse, fuckbuddies, semi-public sex (aka a quickie in the green room), fingering, unprotected sex, dick-riding, dirty talk, squirting, a 3 second blowjob, joon's dick is still Very Big, ft. tiny cameos from JK and yoongi

A/N: remember when i said i would write this later, i LIED, i'm a LIAR, i wrote it NOW because i really liked the idea (and i was super bored while traveling). ask and you shall receive anon, i hope this is what you were looking for!!!! 💜

this is also on AO3!

~*~

You’re enjoying a quiet Friday night in, basking in the glow of not having to stress about homework for the first time in two years, when a familiar number pops up on your phone.

“So, how does it feel to be done with grad school?” You’re surprised to hear him ask. Maybe the bar is in hell, but his own schedule is busy enough, you didn’t think he’d have the brain space to remember yours, too. “I know you worked hard for it. I’m proud of you.”

“Yep, I finally got my stupid piece of paper.” You say dryly. “Maybe now I can actually get paid enough to get a new car.”

You swear you can hear him smile on the other end of the phone. “Pretty soon you won’t even need me anymore.”

“I thought we discussed last time that I keep you around for one specific reason.” You can’t help yourself. “A very big reason.”

Namjoon laughs softly. “Well, maybe this will help my case. I got you a graduation present.”

Now he’s surprised you twice in under a minute. “I– what?”

“Did you know we have a stop on this tour that’s right by you?”

You do know. The tickets had sold out in approximately four seconds, if your Twitter feed was any indication. You didn’t even try for one; you’re so broke you’d only be able to afford nosebleeds at best anyway, and the thought of being that close but that far from him makes your heart sink in a way you can’t quite understand.

“So I’ve heard. Am I gonna be your Uber driver again?”

“I probably won’t be able to get away, unfortunately.” He says, and you nod, leaning back against the cushions of your couch. Hearing that phrase never sucks any less, but you’re used to it. He’s a busy guy. Sex is nowhere near the top of the priorities list.

“But,” he continues, “I did get you a ticket, if you want it.”

The revelation shocks you, and your stomach turns a little. Better seats would be great, especially for free, but you have other reasons for not being an avid concert-goer.

Namjoon is an incredible performer, they all are, but the thought of standing in a massive crowd where people next to you are loudly obsessing over his thighs and his chest has never sounded particularly appealing. It’s not jealousy; you understand as well as anyone that he’s an attractive man, it’s just… it’s weird.

“Joon,” you start, with no idea how you’re supposed to phrase this. Who turns down a free ticket to a BTS concert?

“It’d be backstage in VIP, okay? I promise, the screaming isn’t so bad there.” Backstage? Your head swims. He pauses for a second, but can clearly tell you’re not convinced, and his tone softens. “I hated the thought of being so close to you and not doing anything about it. I really just want to see you, even if we can’t…” he clears his throat with a half-laugh. “You know, go for a drive.”

You absolutely do not feel like a VIP, but your heart jumps at the thought of seeing him before you can tell it not to.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be there.”

He can only chat for a few more minutes before he’s pulled away for the next thing on his schedule. After you hang up, you slide entirely off your couch and onto the floor in a daze, wondering what the hell you just agreed to.

~*~

It turns out attending a concert as a VIP guest is not that far off from your well-worn hotel ritual. You go through the familiar motions, flashing various people your ID and the badge around your neck, and you receive a security escort through the network of hallways that lead into the heart of the stadium.

At security’s direction, you hang a left, past a room where you see racks upon racks of clothes ready and waiting for quick changes, and you’re so distracted that you nearly collide into Jungkook. His eyes widen. “Oh, hi!”

You’ve met most of the members in passing– it’s sort of hard not to– but you’ve always had a particular soft spot for JK. It might have something to do with the time he voluntarily sexiled himself to Taehyung and Jimin’s room for a night so that Namjoon could invite you over. A true friend.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you say with a nervous smile.

“It’s good to see you! Namjoon said you were coming. He’s in the green room if you’re looking for him.” He gestures to a door at the end of the hallway, and you thank him as your pulse starts to race.

You gently push the door open and peek in. Namjoon is sitting alone at a chair in front of the vanity mirror, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs. He has headphones on, and his fingers are steepled, pressed to his lips. He’s clearly deep in thought, and a feeling washes over you like you shouldn’t be here, like maybe you should just turn around.

But then he glances over and sees you standing there, and his whole face lights up, those killer dimples on full display.

He slips his headphones off as you step inside; you can’t close the distance between the two of you fast enough. You loop your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, and then you squeak as your feet leave the ground when he fully picks you up.

“Hi,” he says against your ear with a laugh, and when your feet make contact with the floor again, you push up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands at the small of your back. Kissing Namjoon standing up doesn’t happen often, and it’s enough to give you a head rush.

His lips linger on yours as his hands travel gently downwards, and then he makes a noise of surprise against your mouth and pulls away.

“Oh my god,” he groans softly, pinching the fabric of your new favorite skirt between his fingers. “You did this on purpose.”

You can’t hide your wicked smile. “It’s possible. You did say you liked it, if I recall correctly.”

You lose your composure as his hands slip under your skirt to grab your ass. You inhale sharply, thankful that you’re alone. Namjoon’s mouth drops to your neck. “God, I wish we had more time,” he groans against your skin.

You should behave. The fact that you can see him and touch him should be more than enough, and you should just be grateful. But he really does make you insatiable. “I can be quick if you can,” you murmur against his ear.

His life-ruiningly big dick hardens against your thigh; you can feel every inch of it straining against the fabric of his pants, and you shift to grind your core against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses. Arousal floods through you at the notion of how close he is, the fact that only a few layers of clothes separate him from where you need him most. You’re already soaked, ready for all of him.

You hear a grunt and a shifting sound from behind you and nearly jump out of your skin, quickly leaping back to put some space between you and Namjoon. When you turn towards the source, you realize that you completely missed Yoongi, asleep on the green room couch.

Namjoon winces when you whip your head back to glare accusingly at him. “Sorry. I totally forgot he was there.”

You fix him in your gaze for a second, but you’re honestly too horny to stay mad. “To be fair, you were distracted.”

“Still am,” he grunts, running a hand over the front of his pants. You can only imagine the internet-wide panic that would ensue if he went out onstage this hard. The dick print blogs would have a field day. You’re frozen in place, ridiculously turned on but also starting to feel guilty for putting him in this predicament.

Namjoon crosses to the sofa, one hand slipping into his pants to tuck his erection into his waistband.

“Hyung,” he whispers, giving the couch a light kick.

Yoongi grunts again, but doesn’t move, eyes still closed.

“Hyung, I need the room for a minute.”

At this, he finally cracks an eye open. “Hmm?”

“Can you nap somewhere backstage?”

Yoongi squints at both of you as he slowly sits up. He looks pissed– although he kind of always looks like that, so maybe that’s just his face– but seems to realize he can get back to sleep faster if he doesn’t waste time on an argument.

He yawns as he shuffles out of the room, turning over his shoulder in the open doorway. “Just so you know, you’ve got like, five minutes.” Then he slams the door behind him.

Namjoon doesn’t waste even a second, instantly pulling you to him and finding your lips with his, tongue sweeping into your mouth. You let him guide you backwards until you’re pressed up against the green room door, and you hear the lock click.

His lips move to your neck again, his hands sliding up your thighs. “Can you do five minutes, baby?”

“Y-yes,” your answer turns into a whine as his hand brushes over your panties, and you spread your legs to give him more room. He pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side, and when he slips two fingers into your cunt, you both groan: you at the pleasure, and him at how little resistance there is when he pushes in.

“Fuck, you really want me, huh?” Namjoon practically growls into your ear, and you whimper open-mouthed as he curls his fingers inside you. He shifts and you can feel him pressed hard against your thigh, and your knees nearly buckle. “You want to take all of this?”

“God, yes.” You think you’ll die if you don’t.

He hesitates for just a second, clearly weighing some option in his head. Then he groans in your ear again. “Will you ride me, baby?”

You can’t even speak, but when he sees you nod, it’s enough. Pressing you up against the door, he lifts your legs to wrap around his waist, and then his hands move to cup your ass and pull you to him. He lifts you up and carries you like that across the room, his still-clothed erection grinding into your core. Your desire is almost painful now, you want him so bad.

He settles on the couch with you in his lap, and you lean forward on your knees so that he can fumble to undo his belt and pull his pants and boxers down.

There’s no time for the teasing you’re both so fond of, but you don’t feel like you could last a single second longer without him inside you. When you pull your panties to the side again so you can sink down on him, it’s fucking perfect, and you can’t hold back a moan of relief.

“Shit, baby,” Namjoon groans. His head drops against the couch and his hand is already on your clit in steady circles. The urgency just makes everything hotter.

You rock up and down along his length, and you’re so fucking wet that he easily bottoms out inside you, hitting the spot that makes you squeeze your eyes shut and gasp. Your arousal coils tight inside you, the pressure already building.

Namjoon’s fingers work you expertly, and he knows your mind just as well as your body. He knows the fastest way to get you to come is with his words, and he doesn’t hold back, his hips starting to rock up into you.

“You take my cock so well, baby, fuck. This tight little pussy was made just for me, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with every thrust.

“Mine to have whenever I want, wherever I want. Always so fucking wet and ready for me, so desperate to take it all like a good girl.”

You whimper loudly in agreement. His cock, his hands, his voice, it’s all too much. He can feel your walls start to flutter and that only makes him thrust and circle his fingers faster, and your moans are nearly sobs now.

“That’s it, baby. Soak yourself for me. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out as the pressure inside you swells and bursts, and you can feel the rush of fluid as it splashes over him and the couch beneath you.

Namjoon groans beneath you at the feeling, and you thank god he has the awareness and the strength to lift you up off of him, because it fully escaped you that he never put a condom on.

He strokes himself fast and hard, clearly just shy of his own end, and even now, you still can’t get enough. You drop to your knees on the floor and practically shove his legs apart so you can take him in your mouth, your cunt still quivering from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Holy shit,” he gasps as you bob up and down, sloppy and fast. When you swallow him down, gagging slightly, his hips buck against your mouth, and you take it all with a whimper as he comes down your throat.

You make sure to work every drop out of him before you pull off, sitting back on your heels and wiping at your mouth. You watch Namjoon as he collapses against the couch, breathing heavy and smiling wide. He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at you, clearly still trying to recover.

“You,” he says with a gasp, “are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You beam at the compliment, and you stand up on shaking legs, reaching down to awkwardly adjust your underwear back in place. At his request, you circle around him to assess the damage as he pulls his pants up. 

It occurs to you only in hindsight that attempting a mess-free quickie with a girl who squirts is quite the lofty goal, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of it on his clothes. The couch cushion, however, was not so lucky. You both giggle at the wet spot as he wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think we’re at five,” you murmur, but he tilts your jaw up anyway, his lips finding yours for one more kiss.

He reluctantly walks you towards the door. “I gotta go get my mic, but if you head backstage to the left, there’s a spot where you can watch the show.” He presses his lips to your forehead one more time. “I’ll make it a good one for you.”

You laugh as he opens the door. “I’ll be watching, so you better not fuck up the choreo!”

For the second time tonight, you nearly run face-first into Jungkook. “Ah, sorry! Is my phone in here?” He shoves past you both and lets out a sigh of relief as he retrieves it from the vanity counter.

You give Namjoon a final smile and then head towards backstage, but you’re still in earshot to hear Jungkook ask, “What happened to the couch? Hyung, did you spill something?”

You press your hand to your mouth to hold the laughter in.

The show is even better than you thought it would be, and though you might just be imagining it, you swear Namjoon’s hip thrusts are a little more enthusiastic than usual.

A/N: i wrote this in like 30 minutes (so it is quite literally a quickie on a quickie) so if this is slightly lower quality than my usual, don't roast me!!! but i had so much fun revisiting these two!! hope you enjoyed, would love a comment or review if you did 💜 and i'm always tentatively open to requests, tho i have very little control over what will spark the muse lol. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD THE ACTUAL NEXT THING I POST WILL BE LDOMLT 🙈 thanks for reading!!!!!

[creekschaoscorner]

A tribute to my wife™️ Allison Pendle from hit gaming franchise Bendy and the Ink Machine (ft. a tiny cameo from my husband™️ Thomas Connor)

+ Bonus Version

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost