#sell antique car

[onlinewordworld]

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[herigo]

[mossfeed]

gonna work on my car with my dad this weekend wahoo

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Zuck’s gravity-defying metaverse money-pit

Tomorrow (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

Think of everything that makes you miserable as being caught between two opposing, irresistible, irrefutable truths:

"Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops" (Stein's Law)

"Markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent" (Keynes)

Both of these are true, even though they seemingly contradict one another, and no one embodies that contradiction more perfectly than Mark Zuckerberg.

Take the metaverse.

Zuck's "pivot" to a virtual world he ripped off from a quarter-century old cyberpunk novel (reminder: cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion) was born of desperation.

Zuck fancies himself an avatar of the Emperor Augustus (that's why he has that haircut) (no, really). The emperors of antiquity are infamous for getting all weepy when they run out of lands to conquer.

But the lachrymosity of emperors has little causal relationship to the anxieties of tech monopolists! Alexander weeps because he just loves a good conquest and when he finishes conquering the world, he's terminally bored. That's not Zuck's problem at all. When Zuck attains monopoly status, his company develops an autoimmune disorder, as his vicious princelings run out of enemies to destroy and begin to knife one another.

Any monopoly faces these destructive microincentives, but tech is exceptional here because tech has the realtime flexibility and speed that brick-and-mortar businesses can never match:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Sociopaths with tech monopolies are worse for the same reason that road-rage would be worse in a flying car: adding new capacity to indiscriminate self-destructive urges turns ordinary car crashes into low-level airburst warfare:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

The flexibility of digital gives tech platforms so much latitude to break things in tiny increments. A tech platform is like a Jenga tower composed of infinitely divisible blocks. The Jenga players are the product managers and executives who have run out of the ability to grow by attracting new business thanks to their monopoly dominance. Now they compete with one another to increase the yield from their respective divisions by visiting pain upon the business customers and end users their platform connects. By tiny increments, they increase the product's cost, lower its reliability, and strip it of its utility and then charge rent to restore its functionality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/24/cursed-bigness/#incentives-matter

This is the terminal stage of enshittification, the unstoppable autocannibalism of platforms as they seek to harvest all the value created by business customers and end users, leaving the absolute minimum of residual value needed to keep both stuck to the platform. This is a brittle equilibrium, because the difference between "I hate this service but I just can't stop using it," and "Get me the fuck out of here" is razor-thin.

All it takes is one tiny push – a whistleblower, a livestreamed mass-shooting, a Cambridge Analytica – and people bolt for the doors. This triggers the final stage: the "pivot," which is a tech euphemism for "panic."

For Zuck, the pivot got real after a disappointing earnings call triggered a mass sell-off of Facebook stock, history's worst one-day value incineration, which lopped a quarter of a trillion dollars off the company's market cap:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-12-19/dramatic-stock-moves-of-2022-led-by-meta-dive-nordic-flash-crash

This was when the metaverse became the company's top priority.

Now, in my theory of enshittification, the step that follows the pivot is death: "Finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Many people have asked me about the conspicuous non-death of Facebook! That's where I have to fall back on Stein's Law: "Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Facebook can't continue to annihilate value, alienate its workers, harm the public, hemorrhage money in support of a mediocrity's cherished folly forever. Can it?

Admittedly, it sure seems like it can. Facebook's metaverse pivot has thus far cost the company $46,500,000,000. That is: $46.5 billion. That's even more money than Uber torched, seeking to maintain the illusion that they will be able to create monopolies on both transport and the labor market for driving and recoup the billions the Saudi royal family let them use for the con:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Don't worry: the Saudi royals are fine! They cashed out at the IPO, collecting a tidy profit at the expense of retail investors who assumed that a pile of shit as big as Uber must have a pony under it, somewhere:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber has doubled the cost of rides and halved drivers' wages, using illegal gimmicks like "algorithmic wage discrimination" to squeeze a little more juice out of the nearly exhausted husks of its workforce:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But Stein's Law hasn't been repealed. Drivers can't drive for sub-subsistence wages. Do that long enough and they'll literally starve: that's what "subsistence" means. We lost a decade of transit investment thanks to the Uber con, at the same time as traditional taxi drivers were forced out of the industry. Uber can't be profitable and still pay a living wage, and the fantasy of self-driving cars as a means of zeroing out the wage-bill altogether remains stubbornly, lethally unworkable:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Which means we're at the point where you can get off a commuter train at a main station and find yourself stranded: no taxis at the taxi-queue, no busses due for an hour, and no Uber cars available unless you're willing to pay $95 for a ten-minute ride in a luxury SUV (why yes, this did happen to me recently, thanks for asking).

As more and more of us are exposed to these micro-crises, the political will to do something will increase. This can't go on forever. "Don't use commuter rail" isn't a viable option. "Walk three miles each way to the commuter rail station" isn't viable either. Neither is "Pay $95 for an Uber to get to the station." Something's gotta give…eventually.

"Eventually" is the key word here. Remember the corollary of Stein's Law: Keynes's maxim that "markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent." Sure, anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, but that is no guarantee of a soft landing. You can't smoke two packs a day forever – but in the absence of smoking cessation, the eventual terminus of that habit is stage-four lung cancer. Keep hammering butts into your face and your last smoke will come out a crematorium chimney.

Zuckerberg hasn't merely blown a whole-ass Twitter on the metaverse with nothing to show for it – he's gotten richer while doing it! In the past year, his net worth increased by 130%, to $59 billion, thanks to an increase in Facebook's share-price, driven by investors who stubbornly remain irrational, keeping the Boy Emperor solvent long past any reasonable assessment of his performance.

What are these investors betting on? One possibility is that the rise and rise of Facebook's share-price represents a bet on technofeudalism. Since the Communist Manifesto, Marxists have been predicting the end of capitalism. That end seems to have come, but what followed capitalism wasn't socialism, it was the return of feudalism, an economic system where elites derive their wealth from rents, not profits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profit is the income you get from investing in capital – machinery, systems, plant – and then harvesting the surplus value created by workers who mobilize this capital. Capitalism produces massive returns for its winners – in the Manifesto's first chapter, Marx and Engels just geek out about how productive and dynamic this system is.

But capitalism is also a Red Queen's Race, where the winners have to run faster and faster to stay in the same place. Capitalism drives competition, as other would-be winners pile into the sector, replicating the systems that the current winners are using and then improving on them. This is why the prophets of capitalist end-times like the FBI informant Peter Thiel say that "competition is for losers."

Capitalism's "profits" stand in contrast to the feudalist's "rents." Rents are income you get from owning something that other people need to produce things. The capitalist owns the coffee-shop, but the feudalist owns the building. When a rival capitalist opens a superior coffee-shop and drives the old shop out of business, the capitalist loses, but the rentier wins. Now they can rent out an empty storefront in the neighborhood everyone's coming to because of that hot new cafe.

Feudal and manorial lords also made their fortunes by extracting surplus value from workers, but these rentiers don't care about owning the means of production. The peasant in the field pays for their own agricultural equipment and livestock – control over the means of production is necessary for worker liberation, but it's not sufficient. The worker's co-op that owns its factory can still find the value it produces bled off by the landlord who owns the land the factory sits on.

The jury's still out on whether American workers really see themselves as "temporarily embarrassed millionaires," but America's capitalists have a palpable, undeniable loathing for capitalism. The dream of an American "entrepreneur" is *PassiveIncome: money you get from owning something capitalists and/or workers use to create value. Digital technology creates exciting new possibilities for rent-extraction: a taxi-operator had to buy and maintain a car that someone else drove. Uber can offload this hassle onto its drivers and rent out access to the chokepoint it created between drivers and riders, charging all the traffic can bear. This is feudalism in the cloud – or as Yannis Varoufakis calls it, cloudalism.

In Varoufakis's Technofeudalism, he describes Amazon as a feudal venture. From a distance, Amazon seems like a bustling marketplace of manic capitalism, with sellers avidly competing to offer more variety and lower costs in a million independently operated storefronts. But closer inspection reveals that Amazon is a planned economy, not a market.

Every one of those storefronts pays rent to the same landlord – Amazon – which determines which goods can be offered for sale. Amazon sets pricing for those goods, and extracts 45-51% of every dollar those sellers make. Amazon even controls which goods are shelved at eye-height when you enter the store, and which ones are banished to a dusty storeroom in a distant sub-basement you'll never find:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

Zuck's metaverse is pure-play technofeudalism, Amazon taken to the logical extreme. It's easy to get distracted by the part of Zuck's vision that will convert us all into legless, sexless, heavily surveilled low-resolution cartoon characters. But the real action isn't this digitization of our fleshy wants and needs. Zuck didn't spend $46.5B to torment us.

The cruelty isn't the point of the metaverse.

The point of the metaverse is to rent us out to capitalists.

Zuck doesn't know why we would use the metaverse, but he believes that if he can convince capitalists that we all want to live there, that they'll invest the capital to figure out how to serve us there, and then he can extract rent from those capitalists and start earning "passive income." It's an Uber for Cyberpunk Dystopias play.

Zuck's done this before. Remember the "pivot to video?" Zuckerberg wanted to compete with Youtube, but he didn't want to invest in paying for video production. Videos are really expensive to produce and the median video gets zero views. So Zuck used his captive audience to trick publishers into financing his move into video. He fraudulently told publishers that videos were blowing up on Facebook, outperforming boring old text by vast margins.

Publishers borrowed billions and raised billions more in the capital markets, financing the total conversion of newsrooms from text to video and precipitating a mass extinction event for print journalists. Zuck kept the con alive by giving away (fewer) billions to some of those publishers, falsely claiming that their videos were generating fortunes in advertising revenue. These lucky, credulous publishers became judas goats for their industry, luring others into the con, the same way that the "lucky" guy a carny lets win a giant teddy-bear at the start of the day lures others into putting down $5 to see if they can sink three balls in a rigged peach-basket.

But when we stubbornly refused to watch videos on Facebook, Zuck stopped spreading around these convincer payouts, and precipitated a second mass-extinction event in news media, as the new generation of video journalists joined their predecessors in Facebook-driven unemployment. Given this history, it's surreal to see publishers continue to insist that Facebook is stealing their content, when it is so clearly stealing their money:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

Metaverse is the new Pivot to Video. Zuckerberg is building a new world, which he will own, and he wants rent it to capitalists, who will compete with one another in just the way that Amazon's sellers compete. No matter who wins that competition, Zuckerberg will win. The prize for winning will be a rent increase, as Zuckerberg leverages the fact that your "successful" business relies on Facebook's metaverse to drain off all the value your workers have produced:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/18/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video/

This can't last forever, but how long until Zuck's reality distortion field runs out of battery? That's the $46.5B question.

The market can certainly remain irrational for a hell of a long time. But the market isn't the only force that regulates corporate outcomes. Regulators also regulate. Europe's GDPR is now seven years old, and it plainly outlaws Facebook's surveillance.

For nearly a decade, Facebook has pretended that this wasn't true, and they got away with it. Mostly, that's thanks to the fact that Ireland is a corporate crime-haven with a worse-than-useless Data Protection Commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

But anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. Facebook has finally been dragged into EU federal jurisdiction, where it will face exterminatory fines if it continues to spy on Europeans:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/07/luck-of-the-irish/#schrems-revenge

In response, Facebook has rolled out a subscription version of its main service and its anticompetitive acquisition, Instagram:

https://about.fb.com/news/2023/10/facebook-and-instagram-to-offer-subscription-for-no-ads-in-europe/

For €10/month, Facebook will give you an ad-free experience across its service offerings (it's €13/month if you pay through an app, as Facebook recoups the 30% #AdTax rents that the feudal Google/Apple mobile duopoly extracts).

But this doesn't come close to satisfying Facebook's legal obligations under the GDPR. The GDPR doesn't ban ads, it bans spying. Facebook spies on every single internet user, all the time. The apps we use are built with "free" Facebook toolkits that extract rent from the capitalists who make them by harvesting our data as we use their apps. The web-pages we visit have embedded Facebook libraries that do the same thing for web publishers. Facebook buys our data from brokers. Facebook has so many ways of spying on us that there's almost certainly no way for Facebook to stop spying on you, without radically transforming it operation.

To comply with the GDPR, Facebook must halt surveillance advertising altogether. There's no way to square "spying on users" with "you can't surveil without explicit consent, and you can't punish people for refusing."

And of course, "not spying" isn't the same as "not advertising." "Contextual advertising" – where ads are placed based on the thing you're looking at, not who you are and what you do – is hundreds of years old. Context ads underperform surveillance ads by a slim margin – about 5% – but they're vastly more profitable for publishers. That's because surveillance ads are feudal, controlled by rentiers like Facebook, who own vast troves of the surveillance data needed to run these ads. Traditional ad intermediaries (agencies, brokers) took 10-15% out of the total advertising market. Ad-tech companies – the Google/Facebook duopoly – take 51% out of every ad dollar spent.

Eliminate surveillance ads and you torch their feudal estates. Facebook will always know more about someone reading a news article than the publisher – but the publisher will always know more about the article than Facebook does:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

There are rents under capitalism, just as there are profits under feudalism. The defining characteristic of a system is what happens when rents and profits come into conflict. If profits win – for example, if productive companies beat patent trolls, or if news publishers escape Facebook's rent-extraction – then the system is capitalist. If rents win – if investors continue to bet large on the metaverse as its losses pass $50 billion and head for the $100 billion mark – then the system is feudal.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. The question isn't whether the platforms will eventually become so enshittified that they die – the question is whether they will go down in an all-consuming fireball, or whether they'll go down in a controlled demolition that lets us evacuate the people they've trapped inside them first:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/09/let-the-platforms-burn/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/30/markets-remaining-irrational/#steins-law

Image: Diego Delso (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Puente_de_las_cataratas_Victoria,_Zambia-Zimbabue,_2018-07-27,_DD_10.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

[mangowafflesss]

Antique Soldiers | Ghost!141

Summary: Going into an antique store you're drawn to a beautiful box which is sealed until you take it home only for the inhabitants inside be released.

Word Count: 5K+

Mythic Month HQ

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

You were going to stay inside today, maybe curl up onto your sofa and watch your favourite films but no. You decided to help out your friend instead, you loved her with all of your heart but sometimes you really hate the fact you can never say no to her, which means you agreeing to do things without even realising what you’re agreeing to. 

She was directing some production for her end of term project. Creating some sort of crack den for vampires. You weren't really paying attention to what it was about but you agreed to be on set design. You've never done anything like that before but all she said was it to be ‘spooky vampire vibes’. 

You had spent all last night in your bed with your laptop on Pinterest, you were so far into your research of ‘vampire vibe’ decor that you hadn’t realised the sun was starting to rise and you were significantly hungrier than before. 

Tugging your coat tighter around yourself you trek down the highly decorated streets. It was close to halloween so you dodged carved pumpkins and hanging cobwebs from shop signs and awnings. Your town always goes all out even though it really isn't a popular holiday around these parts.

You stop in your tracks as you spot your destination in front of you. An old antique shop that sells things for dirt cheap. The owner has lived above it for years, there's a silly rumour that they're actually a witch but you don't believe in such things. 

The front door opened with a jingle of a bell which echoed around the quiet shop. You felt uneasy as you ventured into the small space. There were so many things in here so you were careful to not accidentally knock anything over. You walked past a mirror that had definitely survived a fire or something, the reflection was all hazy and the outsides were black with specks of the original gold peeking through. It looked like there was someone else standing inside of it but you quickly looked away before you fully saw anything. 

Feeling a shiver go up your spine you have a sudden feeling you're being watched. You looked around you but couldn't see anyone - not even a worker. Weird. 

As you look through shelves of things, you come across a table with a small box sitting on it. It was absolutely beautiful, it was silver with blue gems embedded into different slots. Picking it up you look at it closer and feel something move around inside, feeling curious you try to open it but sadly you can't. 

“Beautiful isn't it” you flinch as you turn and see a woman standing next to you. Her dark hair covered part of her face but you could clearly make out the wrinkles decorating her face. 

“How much is it? There isn't a price tag” you blurt out and ask before you even realise you said anything. Is it weird to be drawn to something so much? The woman gives it a long look before smiling at you “free, take it” you furrow your brows at her and then look at the box in your hands. It looked so precious and expensive, why would she give it to you for free?

“Are you sure? I can always give you something” you offer while moving towards your purse but a hand on your arm stops you “take it, it's yours now” is all she says before walking away leaving you alone once more. 

You exited the store but then came to the realisation that you didn't buy anything for your set. You look back through the window of the store and see the ‘closed’ sign swinging as if it was just turned. “Great… just great” you huff and then notice that it's a lot darker outside. How long were you in there for?

Looking down at the box in your arms you groan at your stupid infatuation with it but hold it closer to your chest and storm back to where you parked your car. 

It had been a couple of days and you woke up to the feeling of your apartment freezing cold. Pulling on a warm jumper, you pull the sleeves over your hands to try and gain some warmth into them. Rubbing your arms you walk over to the thermostat, but when you see the temperature you become confused. It's a normal temperature so why do you feel so cold?

Moving further into your home the temperature changes and you test the different rooms. Every room was the temperature it was supposed to be except your bedroom. Walking over to your whiteboard of things to remember you write down ‘call maintenance’ onto the list.

Sighing you go back into your freezing bedroom and get changed then grab your bag to go to your first class. What you don't realise is that the pretty sealed box you bought a couple of days ago was laying wide open on the top of your dresser. 

Your day was long and your friend was breathing down your neck about this stupid set design so you stayed behind and finished it off. When you get home you go into your bedroom and get ready for the shock of a cold temperature but when it doesn’t come you freeze. “Hmm maybe I don't have to call maintenance after all” you smile before going to your board and wipe the note off but then see the black marker is smeared over the white background. Looking closer it looks like finger marks which confuses you “What the?”

*BANG*  

You flinch at the sudden sound and peer around the corner to where you heard the sound come from. You see your bedroom door is now shut and eye it suspiciously before taking a deep breath and slowly walking towards it. If someone was inside of your apartment you would have seen them due to the lack of size and space you have but then again how do you explain the wiped off marker. 

Either it was an intruder or your friend was playing a trick on you, she had a spare key and has loved playing pranks on you since you were in high school. Taking another big deep breath you shake off your tense shoulders and grip the bedroom door handle, twisting it fast and barge through the door to find nothing. 

“I must be going crazy” you huff a laugh and then stop when something catches your eye. There was a reflection in your mirror and it looked like a man but it quickly disappeared and you looked all around your room and your eyes landed on something else.

The box.

Slowly walking over to where it sat on your dresser, the blue silk interior grabs your attention and you eagerly look inside only to find… dogtags?

Reaching inside you hold one up in the air and read it “Kyle Garrick” quirking an eyebrow up you gather the others into your hands and also read their names “Well Kyle, Johnny, Simon and John I don't know if you're real but if you are why are you in a box?” you question and feel something breathe in your ear. You flick your head to the side and look behind you, you're starting to get freaked out now but something in the back of your mind is laughing at you. 

Your gut feeling was saying for you to run, your eyes look at your open bedroom door and you dart for it. As you were about to pass through the threshold it slammed shut in your face and you grabbed the handle which was red hot. Letting out a hiss you hold your hand and feel the top layer of your skin burn. 

Backing away from the door you look at your window and groan when you realise they don't open far due to you being so high up. Reaching for your phone you pick it up but then you see the battery is dead “What the fuck?” you could've sworn it was at least 40%.  

Throwing it down on your bed your mind keeps nagging at you to go to the box. Glancing over at the glistening silver material you hesitate before touching it again. The dogtags were still laying inside and you picked all of them up, holding them in one hand as you investigated the box. You felt along the silk interior for anything stuck into it but you couldn't find anything. Flipping it upside down however an engraving stood out to you with a familiar name carved in the silver. 

Your name was in bold capital letters, you ran your thumb along it and felt every indent of each initial. “This has to be some sort of joke” you put it back down and go to pick up your phone to charge it and call someone, you need answers and you have a feeling your friend was behind this. 

As you turn around you let out a scream when you see four men looking at you. Your hand tightened around the dog tags wrapped around your hand as you stood there frozen on the spot. 

Get out of there!  Your mind screamed at you but you were in some sort of daze. 

You tried to move but your feet were stuck and your heartbeat got faster with every breath you took. “Don't be afraid we're not going to hurt you” one says with his arms raised in the air, he took a step towards you but you managed to step back, your ass was pressed up against the dresser and you felt behind you. The box was in reach and you flung it at them but watched in horror as it went through them. The loud clattering sound was the only noise filling your senses. 

“What the fuck?” is all you managed to get out before making a break for it and ran towards them, all logic in your mind went out of the window at your actions but they were guarding the door and you needed to get out of here. 

Arms however wrapped around your body and you were flung to the bed and held down “let me go!” you wiggle around to get yourself free but it was no use, you were stuck and it sucked terribly.  

“Calm down! breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth” someone grabs your chin and your face to face with one of the men, he has scars on his face which somehow seemed to calm you down. Some connected with one another and you snapped out of it when you felt something lightly tap your face. 

“Hey… we won't hurt you, my name's Kyle. What's yours?” his voice was soft and you almost fell into the security of it until you came back to reality. The other man had already let go of you but you scrambled up your bed until you were sitting on your pillows with your back to the headboard. You were shaking slightly and the cold feeling from this morning had come back. You looked at each individual who was surrounding your bed, they watched you with curious eyes but they didn’t seem to look threatening. Okay maybe they did a little with their big bodies but there was something trusting about them. 

After what felt like forever you crawled to the bottom of your bed and reached out a hand, carefully pushing through the abdomen of the scarred man. “This is insane…” you breathe out and a shiver goes up your arm, goosebumps raising along with your hairs. 

You saw movement in the corner of your eye and another man stood before you with something in his hand. You looked at him and he dropped the item in your hand which was one of the dog tags. “Johnny Mactavish, is this you?” he nods his head and you grab the rest which are sprawled out on your bed and gather them in your palm. 

“These belong to all of you?” 

“Yes they do” 

“Why are they in a box though in some antique store?” you had to ask the question but maybe they didn't even know. “Dunno but it's stuffy in there” one of them jokes and you stare blankly at him. 

You're joking with ghosts… dead people are in front of you right now and you’re joking with them as if they are still alive. 

Sighing heavily you ask for them to introduce themselves to you and then they slip each of their tags around your neck, they jingled with every move you made but you didn't mind it. You didn't feel comfortable talking to them in your room so you asked them to go to the living room instead, while you thought they would open the door they didn't and instead walked through it. 

When you entered your living room they were all waiting for you, each with different types of smiles on their faces, you sat on the sofa with your head in your hands. 

“So you guys are ghosts”

“Yes” they say in unison and you run your palms down your face and groan “okayyy and how did you die?” you ask but then they begin to awkwardly look at each other clearly uncomfortable with the question.        

You felt something lower itself next to you and John looks at you with a solemn expression on his face “We were on a mission but unfortunately couldn't trust the information we were given, we were captured and executed on the spot, youngest first up to the oldest” you let out a gasp at his words and went to give him a friendly touch of reassurance only for your hand to go through him. 

“I'm sorry…” your hand hovers over where his shoulder is and he appreciated the gesture and placed his hand on yours. Your hand felt as if it was inside of the freezer by his touch and he could tell you were uncomfortable and retreated it. 

As you stared at his hand you were suddenly curious about something “How is it that I can see you guys?” you look over to the others and Simon steps forward “We're showing ourselves to you, also you have something we’re attached to” he points to the metallic chains around your neck which makes you look down at them and touch them. 

“Why can I only touch you some of the time?” You turned to John and he tapped his head “It takes a lot of concentration, can’t do it all the time or else then you won’t be able to see or hear us” you nod your head as you take in the information and then stand up. 

“I see… When did the box open?” you asked while standing there and tapping your pointer finger on your lip in thought. “Around this morning” Johnny says and everyone agrees with murmurs and nods. 

“So what you're saying is you watched me sleep and get dressed today” you looked at him and he seemed to freeze on the spot and become flustered. “Umm well uh…” he slowly disappeared from your vision and you sighed “Really? Even in death guys are still creeps” 

“We are not creeps! You just didn’t know we were there” Kyle states and you narrow your eyes at him before rolling them and walking to your front door.

“Well it was nice meeting you but you may leave now, go bother someone else” you motion to the hallway outside your apartment and they stay where they are and then Johnny comes back into view shaking his head side to side. 

“Come on, gooo” you move your arm quickly hoping it'll spur them into movement but they're all still rooted like a tree. 

“We can't. We're stuck here” Simon says flatly “You fucking with me right. No?” your mouth was open like a fish out of water and you slammed the door behind you not realising its currently very late and your neighbours are probably asleep. 

“Well if you’re going to be here all the time then we’re going to have to have some rules” you stand like a mother with your hands on your hips and giving each individual a look to let them know you're serious. 

“Of course. What are your rules?” John sits on the arm of your sofa and waits patiently, you appreciate the gesture and his respect for you. 

“Everyone just come over here please” you motion to your sofa and they all do as you say. You stand in front of them pacing. 

“Okay so first, no going in my room” they all nod and you bite your lip while trying to think of another rule. “Secondly, no - ummm. Bathroom! Do not go in there okay?” Kyle lets out a small giggle and you sigh. 

“That’s all I got” you say, shrugging your shoulders and collapsing into your armchair. You were exhausted from your busy day and the showing up of your new ‘roommates’. Running a hand down your face you let out a yawn and then there was a knock at your door. 

Walking over, the guys as well, you look through your peephole and see who it is. Opening it you see your neighbour standing there. “Thank goodness you answered, are you okay dearie? I heard you pacing around and… you talking to yourself” the older woman played with her cardigan button and you just stared blankly at her “Oh, I was- on the phone” you give her a smile but her eyes cast to the side of you which makes you panic. 

“Why is your hair floating?” She didn’t seem fazed by what she said but your shoulders tense when you feel a cool breeze run up your back. Reaching up to your head you smooth down the hairs, Kyle pops up next to you with a cheeky smile on his face but you remain calm in front of your neighbour who looks… worried for you. 

“I was rubbing a balloon on my head. The static and stuff” You state and she seems to become more worried “A balloon?” She looked down at her watch and then back to you “Sweetheart why don’t you go get yourself some sleep okay? And I’ll bring you some breakfast in the morning” she says, softly grabbing your hand in a caring manner. 

After saying your goodbyes you shut your door softly not wanting to wake your neighbours at 3am. Turning swiftly on your heel you march towards Kyle “That wasn’t funny!” You whisper yell but all he does is shrug his shoulders and laugh. “It was funny. For me anyway” he seemed very happy with himself as he joyfully walked around your living room, looking at the photos on the walls and knocking a blanket off the back of your sofa on purpose. 

“I'll put you back in the box!” you threaten and he turns around and puts his hands together while falling onto his knees “Oh please don't! I don't deserve such punishment” he laughs and you grumble something under your breath before slowly backing out of the room “John please keep him away from my stuff, you're my favourite as of now” “Hey what about me?!” Johnny shouts but you’re already in your room getting ready to go to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning you had hoped everything was a dream until you opened your bedroom door to a six foot something Simon. “Fuck me! Why are you standing there?” you placed a hand on your chest to steady your beating heart while walking through him. “I was coming to see if you were awake” he followed you as you walked to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. 

“Why?” 

“The guys were annoying me”

“So you thought to come and annoy me” 

You were grabbing your favourite mug from the cupboard and prepared your drink for the water. “I wanted to ask you something” you hummed for him to continue as you grabbed a spoon. “The box had your name on it, why?” you stopped where you stood by the sink and turned to face him “Thank you for reminding me” you smiled before walking past him and going to your room to find it. 

When you entered it was still on the floor from when you threw it at them and your name was still engraved into the bottom. As it was tipped upside down something flew out and you looked down at the ground to see a piece of paper laying next to your foot. That most definitely wasn't there yesterday. Bending down to pick it up you turned it around and read the inky words on the page.   

‘May these souls be reunited with their owner’    

“Owner? That sounds like some bullshit don't you think” you look to your side but don't see Simon with you. Poking your head out to where your door is you see him leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why didn't you follow me? I was talking to you”      

“Did you really forget your own rules already?” 

You did forget but he didn't need to know that. “No… but we were having a conversation so that means you could come in” you held your head high and he just gave you one look and came inside of your room. 

You show him the paper in your hand and he reads it, there wasn't any emotion on his face so you didn't really know what he was thinking. “Where did you get this from?” He points to the paper and then you show him the box that was tucked under your armpit. 

“It flew out when I was reading the bottom” 

He turned on his heel while holding the box and walked away from you. “Where are you going?” you chase after him and the tags around your neck clashed together as you did so. 

When you walk into the living room the guys are all there surrounding your coffee table as they stare at the box Simon placed down along with the note. 

“What does it mean?” “How do we know that she didn’t put it there last night” 

They turned to look at you in unison and you somewhat felt like you were under some sort of investigation. “Why would I write something like that? Even I don't know what it means” 

“Well clearly it means that she is our owner and this box belongs to her” 

“Why did you buy this box in the first place?” John asks you and you give it a look and walk towards it. 

“I was buying some things for a project and this was the only thing I picked up. I immediately asked for the price but the woman gave it to me for free, I never saw the engraving on the bottom” you say in the most honest way you could. “I was somewhat attracted to it” your eyes were glued to the shiny material. 

“Did the woman seem weird at all?” Kyle asks and you look at him and think “Not really… she approached me out of nowhere and that was it” 

“What did she look like?” 

“What's with all the questions? It was just some old lady who said I could take it and that's it” you don't know why you got so defensive but they were starting to annoy you and you've only known them for a day. 

“Black hair?” 

“Seemed like she would smell funky” you stared at Johnny and made a face of disgust “Uh yeah…” they moved in an instant and came towards you, their bodies were so close and you felt intimidated. 

“When we died we saw a woman like that and then she put us in that very box” John explained while pointing to the coffee table. “Should we go to the store and see if she's there?” you say looking at each of them and then shake your head as you remembered they can’t leave… or can they?

Turning around to your front door you opened it but then jumped out of your skin when you saw your neighbour standing there “Are you okay sweetie? I brought you breakfast” giving her a smile you quickly take it out of her hands and bring it inside before sending her back to her apartment. 

“Follow me” 

“We-” 

“Come outside, trust me” you beckon them over with your hand and they give each other a shrug before Kyle comes running towards the door. You watch from the hallway outside your apartment, him coming your way, you had no idea if it would work but it's worth a try - and he's really trusting you in this. 

He closed his eyes and ran straight over the threshold of your entrance. A smile spread over your face and the others inside looked confused “I think it has to do with these” you say while holding up the dog tags around your neck. “They were in the box, sooo if I take them with me so can you” that was your logic around it but you had no idea this idea would even work but you're glad it did. 

“Simon grab the box and let's go!” you march away until you hear your name being called “Aren't you forgetting something?” John says and points to your feet, nodding your head you go back into your apartment and grab some shoes and also your car keys. 

Walking down the streets with the knowledge that there are four ghosts with you and no one else knows makes you feel weird. You tried not to speak to them as you didn’t want the surprisingly busy streets to think you're talking to them or yourself…

You saw the shop ahead and headed towards it in a more hurried manner, you wanted to find this woman and wanted answers as to why she's given you four ghosts.  

Opening the door the same bell jingled above the door and a woman greeted you. You've never seen her before but walked up to the counter anyway. “Hi, I was sold this box a couple of days ago and I wanted to see if the woman who sold it me was here” 

The blonde gave you a smile and then frowned when she looked down at the item on the counter. “I'm sorry but we didn't sell you this” she says and you shake your head “No I came in here and picked it up from a table in the back” you point in the general direction but she gives you a disappointing smile and shakes her head. 

“Well is the woman here? Dark hair and around this height” you measure where the woman was up to you and the woman shakes her head yet again “I’m the only one who works here, I'm sorry I can’t help you”  

You watch as Simon and Johnny walk through the counter and investigate the back room, the girl must've felt the breeze of their bodies and turned around. You were so glad she couldn't see them. 

“Have you ever had anyone of that description come in before?” you question and she turns back around to you and taps the counter thinking of an answer. “Nope not many people come in here so I would remember someone like that” 

You see the guys reemerge from the back and Johnny gives you a shrug of the shoulders “Nothing there” Simon says and you admit defeat and pick up your box and turn to leave. When you walk back outside your shoulders sag and a frown appears on your face “I guess we’ll never know why she gave me this box” you kick a stone across the floor and walk back to your car with the guys behind you.   

“It'll be okay, you got four smoking men to live with now, anyone would die for that” you hear Kyle say from his place next to you and you let out a laugh and unlock your car. 

“I don’t particularly find dead people attractive, no offence” 

Weeks later you and the guys have been getting along. 

Price helped you build a bookshelf, which was collecting dust for years in its box. He couldn't actually do it for you but he told you where each thing went, it wasn’t helpful when Kyle stole one of the screws. Apparently he wasn't always like this, a jokester yes but never this playful. You didn't mind it really, it was a little annoying sometimes but he’d bring it back… after begging for it. 

Simon and Johnny helped you bake. You were making some cupcakes for your friend's birthday party and you were on strict duty to make your ‘yummy cupcakes’. They weren't even special but if people liked them, then that's all that matters. Johnny did tie the apron a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t mind breathing with how he smiled so brightly at the thought he was helping you. Simon read out the recipe - even though you didn’t need it - he did read it softly but sometimes his lieutenant side came out and yelled at you for not following them directly.    

You hadn’t gotten used to the fact that they just pop up out of nowhere. Playing tricks on you, making you jump or drop things when they reach out to grab you but don’t show themselves. It was as if they were trying to give you a heart attack and become like them.

You had found their social media that was never deleted and laughed at their pictures, they were bad… really bad. They didn't appreciate your judgemental looks and your laugh crying and threw things at you. 

Whenever you had friends over you would have to beg them to behave but you would see them in the corner of your eye touching your friends hair or making the room unbearably cold. You had to lie and say it was just your apartment because there was no chance they would believe you had ghosts living with you, 

Their dog tags were laid safely inside of the silver box on your dresser, you only wore them unless you wanted to take them out of your house, Johnny claimed it was as if they were your pet. You did remind him of the ominous note of you being their owner  and he ripped it up and threw it out of the window, very dramatic.  

You'd never see the woman again and you frequented the antique store after your class just to try to see her but you never got close. She just disappeared. 

It was okay though, living with ghosts isn't actually as bad as it seems.

[sister-lucifer]

The Things That Find You 

Laughing Jack x Male Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 

Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!

The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:

“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.

Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 

“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 

“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 

“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 

“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 

“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 

You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 

You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 

“How about…a clean fifty?” 

And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 

Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 

You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 

As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 

Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 

That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 

You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 

What were you so scared of? 

That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 

However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 

The glass door of your shelf was open. 

Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.

But we all make mistakes, don’t we?

That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 

When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 

It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 

First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 

As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 

You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 

Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 

You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 

You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 

This was certainly unusual behavior. 

That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 

He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 

He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 

You. 

What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 

It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 

You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 

Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 

By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 

At least you had until you stepped through the door. 

The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 

You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.

No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 

You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 

You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 

Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 

You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 

Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 

The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 

Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 

You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 

Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 

Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—

The shelf is open again. 

The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 

The box has moved on its own. 

You were suddenly feeling light headed. 

You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.

No such luck. 

You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 

It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 

“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 

Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 

He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 

He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 

Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 

When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 

For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 

For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 

For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 

The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.

God, they never stopped. 

They were almost all the same: 

You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 

Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 

On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 

He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 

Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 

Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 

It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 

But that was okay. 

He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 

That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 

And why, God— 

Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 

The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 

It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 

It was a hand. 

A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 

A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 

You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 

Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.

There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 

That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 

Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 

Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 

Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 

But that didn’t happen.

No, instead… 

It laughed.

The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 

That was what you were to Jack: 

Cute. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 

Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 

He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 

“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.

Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 

It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 

“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 

“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 

He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 

One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 

You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—

You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.

When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 

“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 

Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 

He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 

“W-Wait—!”

But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 

“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…

You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 

But what choice did you have, really? 

Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.

You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 

“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.

It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 

His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 

Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 

Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 

You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 

When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 

“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 

“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 

You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.

“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 

“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.

The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 

When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 

“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 

He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 

“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 

“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 

He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.

“Brutal” was an understatement.

Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 

Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 

“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 

He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 

Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 

Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 

Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 

He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 

Oh, you simply had to see this! 

He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 

“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 

“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 

He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 

Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 

Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 

What the hell is he thinking?!

You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 

He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 

And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 

That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 

“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 

“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 

He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 

Oh…you liked that. 

He was more than happy to keep going. 

“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 

You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 

“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 

And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 

He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.

“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 

“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 

His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 

“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 

You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 

“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 

Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 

He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 

You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 

You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 

“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 

Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…

Humans are so strange. 

He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 

“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 

Oh, fuck. 

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hi! Can I request poly hcs of yandere bayverse Optimus Prime & Megatron with fem reader. Could you possibly add some fluff? Thank you, love ur blog! 💕✨

Bayverse Poly! Yandere Optimus Prime X Reader X Megatron

A little longer than I meant, oops-

You’re Sam Witwickey’s sibling. You were more well-read than your brother, and much more polite. When Sam said that he was going to sell your great-great grandfather’s glasses, you were appalled. You immediately snatched them away from him. 

“These are antique! So are these!” You snatched other items up. “You can’t sell them, bozo!” 

“But I need the money! For the car!” Sam tried to grab them back. 

“What if I paid for a portion of it?” 

Sam halted his movements. “What?” 

You huffed. “I’ll pay for some of the car- but YOU have to make sure to give me rides sometime.”

“YES!” He coughed, “I mean, yeah. Sure. You’re my sibling, of course you’d get rides.” 

Then it happened- you met the Decepticons on the way to get the glasses fixed up. You dropped them off at the small antique shop and began your walk home.

A patrol car’s lights went off next to you, and you pulled off to the side into an alleyway. What shocked you the most, however, was when it transformed into a literal robot. You felt dizzy and collapsed to the ground unconscious.

“Frag.” Barricade muttered, pressing his servo to his helm. “Barricade to Starscream. I have the human, but they are unconscious.” 

“Bring them to me.” Starscream ordered.

Before Barricade could respond, a loud honk echoed around the alley and a semi slammed into him. Optimus quickly transformed and snatched you off the ground, handing you off to Bumblebee. “Get them to safety!” 

Bumblebee drove off with you in tow, and Sam quickly shook you awake. “Sam?” You asked. “What happened?” You suddenly remembered the giant robot that had forced you into the alleyway. “The robot-!” 

“Yeah, there’s a few of them. I’ll explain in a bit- where are the glasses?” 

“Back at the antique shop… why?”

Right after you went back to grab the glasses, you met the others. The situation was explained to you, and you were scared. You just wanted to go home and sleep. Unfortunately, as soon as you got home, people from ‘sector seven’ were there to take you away. 

You sat crying in the backseat as Sam and Mikela tried to comfort you. “It’ll be okay, (Y/N).”

“No it won’t!” Simmons said from the front seat. “Not unless you tell us what you kn-” 

The car slammed forward. Optimus ripped off the roof of the car. “Taking the children and (Y/N) was a bad move.” 

Optimus scooped you up to sit you on his shoulder, holding their weapons on the aggressors the entire time. 

When Sam and Mikela got taken, you stayed with Optimus. Once you all discovered where the allspark was, the Autobots began the journey there- you in tow. You wanted to go home, but Optimus wouldn’t let you. He said it was too dangerous to let you go back home.

During the trip, you and Optimus talked a lot. You both got to know each other really well. Despite it only being a few days, you developed a crush on him. 

During the battle, Optimus gave you and Sam an order- push the Allspark into his chest, and kill him. You shook your head as Sam moved to do as he was told. 

“NO, SAM!” You snatched it away. You looked at Megatron and brought the cube near him. 

A wicked grin appeared on his faceplates, and he held his servo out. “Good, yes, human! Bring it to me!”

A sadness painted your face. Yes, Megatron was evil- but you never wanted to take a life. “I”m sorry,” You whispered. Megatron’s face contorted in rage as you shoved the allspark into his chest. 

Before he died, he looked into your eyes. “I’ll get you for this, human!”

You never recovered from taking a life. Optimus was thankfully there for you, and you both grew extremely close. You were one of the few civilians permitted on the base, often helping out. Your official title was ‘liaison’. Even Galloway liked you. 

You were visiting Sam when the Decepticon attacked. You were all running for your lives, with you not understanding a thing of what was going on. Mikela’s car was swept up into the air by a helicopter. You were screaming loudly as it took you all away, and screamed even louder when the car was dropped through a roof and sawed into. 

Everyone stood up as Starscream spit at you. A deep voice came from behind you all. “Come here, boy.” Megatron hissed. Sam began walking towards him with his hands up. “Closer.” 

“Sam, no.” You whispered in fear. Megatron’s eyes met yours for the first time since you took his life. Your body froze as still as you could make it. 

Before you could say anything Megatron grabbed you up from where you were standing and held you in his servo. Sam yelled out your name. “SHUT UP!” Megatron yelled and slapped Sam across the room. 

“SAM!” You and Mikela shouted in fear. “Don’t hurt him! Please!” You begged. 

Megatron simply ignored you and pinned Sam down with his over servo. “It feels good to grab your flesh. I’m going to kill you. Slowly- painfully- but first, we have some delicate work to do.” Sam kept struggling as Megatron mocked him. “Ohhh, I could snap your limbs off.”

You struggled in the servo you were tightly held in. “Wait! It was me that killed you, so let him go! He didn’t do anything!”

Megatron squeezed you tighter in his grasp. “Oh, I have something much better planned for you. Now wait your turn.” You struggled to breath as the air left your lungs. Just before you passed out, he loosened his grip. It was a warning- if you weren’t quiet, he’d knock you out.

You watched in horror as a minicon send a small bug into Sam’s mouth. You had to look away in fear you’d throw up from the sight. In your mind you were hoping for Optimus to find you, to save you.

Your prayers were answered as Optimus and Bumblebee came slamming through into the building firing off shots. Megatron quickly stashed you in his subspace and began fighting Optimus. 

You were thrown around in the tight space and you hoped that Optimus would figure out you were in there. Sounds were muffled, but you could make out sounds of blasting. Soon enough, the sounds faded. The subspace opened and you were taken out into the sunlight. It took your eyes a moment to adjust, but when they did your heart stopped in your chest. 

On the ground before you was Optimus- a giant hole in his chest. He was obviously dead. You felt tears well up in your eyes as a wail left your throat.

“You’re mine now, human. Optimus will never be able to save you again.” 

Megatron took you with him to his hideout. He was originally going to use you to make Sam come out of hiding, but he soon realized why Optimus kept you around. You were smart for your race, and offered fairly good advice (even if said advice was forced out with the threat of violence). The Fallen left you alone, seeing the logic in a living hostage. 

In your short time there, Megatron had begun to grow feelings for you. He didn’t bother denying them- he was a Decepticon. If there was something he wanted, he’d take it. 

After his defeat and the Fallen’s death in Egypt, Megatron offered Optimus a deal he couldn’t pass up. 

“Why don’t we share them? Frag this war, and just hide away?” 

Optimus glared at him. “Do you really expect me to believe you?” 

Megatron chuckled. “You can either accept it, or never see them again, Prime.”

Optimus had no choice but to accept. They hid out on a small island, inhabited with nothing but animals. You were protected as long as you were with them. You also had plenty of books, food, and water. Anything you asked for, except your freedom, was given to you. 

However, at night, when everyone was resting, you were building a raft. You had a book that they gave you that had some basic instructions. When you set off, the raft was surprisingly sturdy. Your supplies were enough to last for a few days- hopefully when you would find someone to help you. 

When you heard the familiar sound of a jet, tears filled your eyes. You shouldn’t have even bothered to try. Megatron scooped you up and brought you back. When you got there, Optimus was waiting with a horrible glare on his face. 

“Where did you think you were going?” He growled. 

Tears fell before you could stop them. “I just wanted to see my family! My friends!” 

Optimus and Megatron felt a smidgen of guilt. Megatron held you closer as Optimus lifted your chin to make you look at him, a gentle smile on his faceplates. “And you will see them,” he petted your hair a little, “When you learn to behave. I can’t allow them to take you from me-”

“Us.” Megatron growled. 

Optimus glanced at him and back to you. “Us. You are ours. We won’t let you get away.”

Megatron chimed in with a sadistic grin on his faceplates. “If you ever try again, I’ll lock you away so you’ll never see the sun again. Understand?” 

All you could do is nod as a soft smile came to Optimus’ faceplates. “Good.” 

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Its always dick 💀 super excited for the new jason au yesssss

Dick watched as Bruce walked up to the front door like a stranger and snorted when the dogs proceeded to lose their shit.

Of fucking course- Didn't Clark teach him ANYTHING? No one EVER used the front door unless they were selling something or they were cops. But... At least he waited for Jason to actually let him in he supposed. He wondered if HE should have gone. But.

HE didn't HAVE anything to apologize for- not really. He'd been just as blind sided. Even Jason had told him- "Shit."

The cute little antique red truck with a hardware store logo on the side and a shop phone number on the side broke his train of thought and he hurried out of the car. It MIGHT not be on sight with Jason and Bruce but he didn't doubt you were going to have a lot to say. You'd been frosty to say the least when he'd shown up.

He hurried "Y/N?" he called, hesitating, not sure how much Jason had said.

"Everything okay?"

"Bruce is inside," Dick said quickly, "I uh- apologizing I think?"

"You think?" you challenge, eyes narrowing.

"He's really bad at it," Dick admitted, smiling sheepishly. Holding his hands up in surrender. "I was gonna make him clean up his own mess- but obviously I can't keep you out of your own house."

You screw your mouth up in irritation. Glancing towards the house and taking a deep breath before looking back at Dick, "How long have they been inside?"

"Maybe 10 minutes?" Dick answered, watching you. Trying to gauge how far along you were. He hadn't noticed the bump the night he'd been at the house, but he could see it now.

"How ugly can it get?"

"Ugly," Dick answered honestly. Everyone in the family knew how to fight. And while he'd not heard yelling or breaking- well. They both had a temper. Though Jason seemed to have leveled out now that he had a wife and some kids.

"Well. I'm not spending my fucking Saturday fixing drywall when I have a nursery to put together and a soccer gamer to coach so. Looks like I'm going inside and making my presence known," you say simply. "Either they behave or your dad gets the fuck out."

And Dick has no choice but to follow you up the walk to the back door. this Dick had GOT to see.

[ojamajoprincess]

it just sort of boggles my mind that aziraphale and crowley, despite being occult, non-humans who a) don't age, and b) actually stick around in places for a long time (the bookshop is easily 300 years old), are just perceived as human men by the people around them. we as the audience know they are infinitely aged yet unaging angel and a demon/ fallen angel, but the humans they meet don't. And they don't assume any different.

they probably think, yeah ok just some guy, a bit off, a bit queer, a bit of a bastard actually, and leave it at that. And in modern times, among their proximal environment of Soho, the perception of them boils down to oh that's the eccentric but obviously gay bookseller who never seems to actually, uh, sell the books and dresses only in period dress (suppose he likes history bounding), and there's his obviously gay goth boyfriend/husband with his antique car, what a functional middle aged married couple.

[johannestevans]

i know it's the same late-stage capitalism grift but i'm just so tired of everything being so anti-personalisation and anti-customisation.

everything has to be kept in good enough nick to resell to some stranger, and your touch being known on whatever it is degrades its value

i buy so many vintage clothes where i can see repairs from twenty years ago, most of the furniture i buy is 50, 100, 150 years old because it's so much better than anything newer, but also like... it's patterned. it's decorated. it's not soulless shite in landlord's colours

idk i've hung up 15 pieces of art in my apartment the past few weeks, when it's "complete" i'll probs have up a hundred or so pieces to cover the walls, i want a standing piano, i want blankets, quilting, i want comfort with my antique furnishing and art

sometimes people assume that because a piece of my furniture is a century or two old it must be So Expensive, but in reality i buy it for literally like, a sixth or a tenth of the equivalent unit, uglier, less well-constructed, new, BECAUSE it's old and LOOKS old.

it's not that no one appreciates antiques anymore, even, i don't actually believe, it's that no one's ALLOWED to - even if it was easy to move the furniture back and forth in a car they don't own to an apartment full of their shitty landlord's furniture they can't get rid of

everything has to be kept attractive enough for an invisible viewer's approval, has to be Fashionable and Saleable enough, whether that means TikTokable or appropriate for their work or a landlord or whatever other bullshit

and the older i get the more technophobic i am because i like certain specific things but everything is so fucking invasive and so hostile to everything about individuality EXCEPT for the vulnerabilities in an individual that might make them easier to advertise and sell to

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Beautiful 1800s home in Milton, ON, Canada that maximalists will love. 4bds, 4ba, $3.1M.

Check out the entrance hall. It looks like the owner collects things from all over the world.

Original stairs and plank floors.

This is one of 3 dining rooms and has a great fireplace.

Wow, this is the dining room. I think I see a corner fireplace and a built-in corner cabinet.

This would be the less formal dining room. I would never sell this house and move, just b/c I wouldn't want to pack all this stuff up.

So, here's the kitchen. Looks very nice. It has a professional stove.

And, here's a living room with a nice fireplace wall full of shelving.

And, this would be another sitting room. This home is going to look very different when it's empty.

These look like the staff service stairs.

Nice primary bedroom has an area for a desk and seating.

The bath has 2 beautiful antique sink cabinets, a slipper tub and brand new double shower.

Walk-in closet.

Bd. #2.

Bd. #3. I don't know if they're very small, or just very cluttered.

Vintage bath with separate toilet.

Modern shower room.

In the back, there's a nice porch, patio and yard.

I wonder if the 3 car garage is also filled with stuff.

132 x 126 ft lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/103-Thomas-St-Milton-ON-L9T-2E3/2058284881_zpid/

[herigo]

[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.”

[mimisempai]

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8

Chapter summary

Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...

On Ao3

Rating G -  3764 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.

Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.

He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.

Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.

Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.

Sincerely.

Aziraphale.

Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.

As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2022

Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.

As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.

A little more about me: 

I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.

My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.

My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.

Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).

My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.

I love to drive my old Bentley. 

I'm afraid of fire.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.

And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).

I love the lake house.

Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.

April 19, 2024

Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.

I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.

I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.

I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.

My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.

I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish. 

My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.

I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.

I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)

As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake? 

How did you come to live at the lake house? 

Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.

April 21, 2022

It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.

He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.

Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them. 

I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.

It was the strangest place I'd ever seen. 

I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2024

Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.

I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks. 

Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.

The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric. 

April 24, 2022

During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.

Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are. 

You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.

Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles. 

He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.

There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.

You can be anything you want.

A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence. 

It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy. 

As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back. 

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.

Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?" 

He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."

He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.

After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."

Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.

"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."

Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."

"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."

"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy." 

"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."

Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."

On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.

However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.

Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday. 

But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.

Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.

Hello, pen pal. 

It's been a while since you last wrote. 

I hope all is well.

Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.

It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).

Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.

Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.

It's been a tough week.

I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. 

I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too. A lot.

June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm 

Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.

June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.

Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole.  With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.

Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."

June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm

Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.

Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. 

Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.

He looked up.

Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.

June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.

Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm

Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."

Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.

2022 - A few days later

Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"

Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"

Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"

Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."

Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window. 

They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.

Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."

His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."

"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."

Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."

"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."

Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"

After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."

Aziraphale laughed. 

He couldn't stop himself. 

Think about the future.

For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.

Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"

Aziraphale continued to laugh.

"What?"

A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School. 

He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.

About the same time, two years ago, I lost something. 

At Waterloo East station.

I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is. 

Then drop it in the mailbox. 

It's your mission if you decide to accept it.

The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.

Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there. 

He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple. 

He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.

Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome. 

Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.

The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale. 

They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.  

Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.

Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.

The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion. 

It had definitely been Crowley.

Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.

He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.

What are you doing on July 1st?

Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.

C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?

A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake. 

Would you like to watch them together? 

From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.

C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?

A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

C: The same, but two years apart.

A: It's better than staying home.

C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

A: See you in 10 days. 

July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion. 

July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.

Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.

They were both armed with notepads and pencils.

The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.

C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?

A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.

Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?

Why didn't you tell me about him?

The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.

C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.

A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.

I'm single now.

The fireworks have just started.

A: They've started here too.

I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year. 

C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.

Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.

Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.

A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...

Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.

C: That's not fair. 

You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.

Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.

A: You're right. 

I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think? 

Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.

C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?

Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"

_________

A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[mxlfoydraco]

I swear I liked a drarry reclist from you for this, but now I can't find it :x do you have any recs for drarry fics where Draco has muggle friends or embraces a more muggle lifestyle? Bonus points if Draco is gay in them because it pulls me out of the story if he has a single straight man thought....(I mean really....the audacity)

First of all, same. Second, I have a list, Draco in the Muggle World, I'm adding on:

Draco in the Muggle World Pt.2

The Liars Department by DorthyAnn (103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy’s lean arms.

The Man Who Lived by @e-sebastian (253k)

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.

Set in New York twelve years after the war.

find a new place to be from by @oflights (47k)

Something is wrong with Malfoy Manor, and it’s driven Draco into the Muggle world. Thankfully, Harry is now on the case. A story about houses that haunt you and homes built for two.

you bring me home by @softlystarstruck (35k)

Harry is happy. He has his cat cafe and his hobbies. He has his friends, and Dolly Parton, and a shirt with a cowboy frog on it. It’s all a man needs, really. He doesn’t need to obsess over a magic-less, anxious Draco Malfoy coming into his cafe after disappearing from the wizarding world years ago. He doesn’t. Not even if the cats like Malfoy. Not even if Malfoy is soft, and funny, and a little bit neurotic. No matter how much he wants to obsess.

Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn’t leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Make Yourself by @anyaelizabethfic (103k)

Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can’t help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof.

Star Quality by who_la_hoop (118k)

Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they? But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?

Rebel, Rebel by @makeitp1nk (28k)

Thirty-six year old Harry Potter is the coolest bloke in muggle Camden Town. That’s right — he’s left the wizarding world behind and has been living his best life ever since. But will one chance encounter with a certain blond from his past change everything? Yeah, probably.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by @magpiefngrl (37k)

Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.

Had To Be You by @lettersbyelise (59k)

Draco Malfoy is possibly the last person Harry expects to find at the wheel of a Muggle car, on a beautiful summer day on the road to London. This is the story of how Harry runs into Draco once, twice, three times, and how he doesn’t leave their next meeting to chance. A fic inspired by When Harry Met Sally

Chasing Shadows by @manixzen (93k)

The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub. A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers.

coffee & communication: a (slow) romance by @softlystarstruck (10k)

Nearly a decade after the war, Draco has made a life for himself in Muggle London, writing romance novels and hanging out with his cat. But when he spills iced coffee all over a gorgeous man who turns out to be Harry Potter, has he tumbled into the start of his own romance without realizing it? And how difficult can it be to talk about desire, anyways? He writes smut for a living. Surely it can't be that difficult.

Meddling, Menswear, and Magic by @writcraft (18k)

Draco Malfoy is working in a job he hates and avoiding the magical world entirely, but he really is fine. When a bequest from Severus Snape brings Draco back to a much-changed magical world, he must find his place within it and navigate his growing attraction to Harry Potter in the process.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (109k)

The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did.

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It’s super.

100 Beats per Minute by @oknowkiss (13k)

When Draco left the Magical World behind at nineteen, he didn't expect the cusp of thirty would find him comfortable and secure, with a stable life and a successful career as a sex columnist. Stable, that is, until he meets the subject of his newest column -- a stranger calling himself James, who has dragged them both to Ibiza on a sex quest of epic proportions -- and everything Draco ever knew turns upside down all over again.

Prats, Parcels, and Parseltongue by @ronbinary (10k)

Harry is the Muggle world's first snake-only veterinarian. Life is good, and calm, for once. Until Draco Malfoy shows up with a snake. And then another. And then he won't stop coming in.

Full by @orange-peony (16k)

The door opens and the bell goes ding. Draco’s eyes immediately fly to the entrance of his bookshop, his heart beating madly in the hope that it’s him.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by @whiskyandwildflowers (13k)

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

In the Shape of Things to Come by @academicdisasterfic (15k)

Existential angst and chronic boredom are plaguing Harry Potter in his cushy post-war life. However, a chance encounter with a tattooed, pierced, disgruntled Draco Malfoy in the middle of Muggle Camden seems to spark something in Harry again—and he never could stay away from Malfoy. Ft. assorted methods of body modification, eclectic but loving friends, a wide variety of grunge music, long tube rides, and a whole lot of trans love.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by @femmequixotic (22k)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

Enjoy the Silence by @shealwaysreads (3k)

Draco stops speaking, gets some tattoos, and discovers that Harry’s happy to be quiet with him.

There's No Espresso in Azkaban by @sassy-cissa (7k)

When Harry finds Draco working in a Starbucks, he finds coffee has suddenly become more interesting.

Let Rainwater Wash Away by @carpemermaidtales (6k)

Harry really needed to learn the importance of carrying an umbrella. Or, maybe he didn’t, since not carrying one led him to stumble upon Draco Malfoy’s antique shop while seeking shelter from a thunderstorm.

Google drive link for all Gallaplacidia fics by @geesenoises

Exposure by GallaPlacidia (26k)

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy’s camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco’s confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise…

Can I Tell You Something by GallaPlacidia (33k)

It's not a party unless Draco Malfoy is there. He's so fun! So wild! So crazy! So many drugs! So many drugs. Too many drugs? Harry's starting to think it's probably a lot too many drugs. This is not a drug addiction recovery fic, although there is a drug addiction recovery. Feat. character development through wide-eyed MDMA trips and Draco Malfoy finding peace as a burlesque dancer.

[valeskawhore]

“Y/n Dracula?”

PART TWO!!!!

Word(s): 1.3k

Character(s)/parings: Wednesday x Fem! Vampire! Reader! (GirlxGirl)

Series/show(?): series— 2/??

*~*~*~*~*

Dark, creepy, and dead silent. Those are the words I would use to describe Nevermore. The weatherman wasn’t kidding when he explained that there was barely any sun in Jericho, vermont. It was like autumn all year round.

Everything that caught my eye was like copy and paste. It’s like the town was under some spell or trance that caused them all to be depressed at the same time. Not one smile on our way here, no one stopped to wave or say hello like usual when they saw a fancy car drive by.

They glared, as if they were offended by newcomers.

A town with this small of a population— it was to be expected that they didn’t easily accept newcomers, the town had quite the interesting history of banning outcasts.

Alec tried making small conversation here and there but gave up halfway through when it finally sunk in his mind that I was making no attempts to answer him or even care about what he had to say.

I felt a guilt bubble in my stomach, he didn’t deserve my wrath but it was the only thing on my mind so I just did my best to ignore him without trying to lash out. It wouldn't help my situation anyways. Either way, I'm going to this ridiculous school and there's nothing I can do about it.

Two things caught my eye,

One was an old antique shop, and the other was a fairly busy cafe on the corner of a T-section. It had fairly good business, something they were selling must have been good enough if it was still up and running. Though, by the looks of it, we’ll see how long that’ll even last.

I like shity cafe music… Maybe that’ll be something to do when I finally get permission to go into town.

*~*~*~*

“Hmm, Nevermore doesn't usually accept newcomers this late into the semester.” Principal Weems adjusted her glasses, skimming through my paperwork. “You’d have to do some extra classes in order to catch up on credits.”

“I don’t mind the work, that won't be a problem.” I added in.

“Well… Miss Edith, given your 4.0 GPA, that doesn't surprise me. You haven't failed a grade, never missed a day of school, your IQ level is above a 150– which is more than intelligent enough. “ she smiled, setting the paperwork to the side and giving me her full attention. “Besides,” she smiled once more, “Who am i? To turn down the one and only– Count Dracula’s only living heir. I'm surprised he enrolled you as late as he did.”

I kept my posture straight, crossing one leg over the other. “He is something.”

She laughed, “I would expect nothing less from a Dracula.”

I let out a breath of relief, smiling slightly. Her blue eyes scanned my figure, looking me up and down as if judging me right then and there. If I wasn't as sharp as I was– I'd probably say something dark was swirling around in her eyes as she smiled at me. Something felt off about this woman, I just couldn't put my finger on it just yet.

Finally, she let out the question she’d been holding in,

“You are aware of how to control yourself around others, correct? Especially normies??” she asked, “Because as you and I both know sweetie, being dracula means you’re a lot more… Different from others.”

‘Ah… that’s what she wanted to ask.’

“What all can you do exactly? Miss y/n?”

I dropped my head, suddenly feeling ashamed. She’s right, I am different. And not because I am a half-blood but because, unlike other vampires who can take medication to control themselves– I was a problem.

I was stronger than others, faster, and I craved actual blood. I couldn’t be out in the sunlight for too long on actual days when the sun was finally out.

I could glamor people to get what I wanted but in-order for that to work, I needed to be superior to them in power. In my case, that wasn’t a problem. I haven’t met someone I couldn't glamor… yet.

Every second that passed by, I felt more and more like I was being judged. She expected an answer while staring at me so intently, I thought she was going to burn holes in my skull.

I finally gave her one,

“I.. have my own personal supplies on things I need. As for power, I can't be out in the sunlight without my ring for too long, but besides that– pretty much the same for other vampires. I'm able to keep human food down long enough for it to digest, but that still doesn't stop the urges.”

She stared for a long time, scanning my face for any traces to which I'd be lying.

After a few moments, she smiled, feeling satisfied with my lie. “That’s perfect, I trust you can manage your own supplies correct?”

I nodded.

*~*~*~*~*

“Welcome to Aurora Hall! We are so excited to finally have someone new joining us!” The young girl buzzed with excitement, damn-near shaking in her boots while she held the door open.

“I’m your new roommate! My name is Abigail but my friends call me Abi! We’re friends right!? Since we’re roommates!? That definitely automatically makes us—”

“Woahhhhh honeypie, I understand you are very excited– but let’s give Edith sometime to settle in, hm?” My dorm mother explained. Marylin? I believe her name was.

Very nice women.

I smiled nervously, not really knowing what else to do. Abigail was definitely someone I'd have trouble getting along with, I realize I might have to set boundaries if I'm going to make this work.

Shrugging everything off, I picked my suitcases up from the ground and gently carried them into the room.

It was huge. The room was already divided into two separate halves and it was already obvious which one was Abigails. She specializes in terrakinesis– she had a green thumb alright, abi could make anything grow.

Her side of the room was filled with green and black vines growing up the walls with flowers blooming around every corner. They spread everywhere around her side of the room. Abi also had dozens of small plants littered around her room, growing all types of flowers– And believe me when I say, Abigail absolutely adored flowers.

DVD players and radios stacked up on one side of the room, next to her bed. Almost working as a nightstand without the drawers. She had an electric guitar also, with a microphone setup with speakers.

Maybe this chick wasn't so bad afterall.

The other side of the room, my side– was as to be expected. A queen sized mattress with a large frame reaching the ceiling sat in the corner neatly.

Definitely compliments from my father– added with two wide dark burgundy dressers to match. Everything else was completely barren, waiting and ready for me to unpack.

I gave a small smile, turning back to my dorm mother when she called my name.

“Here,” She smiled at me, holding a flower pot out. “I try to match just the right flower to all of my girls. This one is a—”

I cut her off, “Wolfsbane. Which is highly dangerous.. Also more commonly associated with werewolves, witches……. and even—”

“That's right, Vampires…I found it fitting for the one and only heir to the Dracula legacy.” She smiled widely.

I stared at her, holding the flower.

After a moment, I smiled as widely as she did, my fangs releasing from the roof of my mouth. She was taken back by how quickly they ejected,

“Thank you,” I laughed, “How very stereotypical of you.”

Marylin struggled to smile, taking a few steps back before making her way to the doorway. “Well uh,” she coughed, raising her hand to her mouth nervously, “Let me know if I can do anything for you girls.” She excited the room quickly after, shutting the door with a loud click.

I Laughed almost immediately, retracting my fangs. A skill only a dracula ascendent could master. We could almost pass off as a normie if it wasn’t for the restricted sunlight, the pasty white skin, dark red rimmed eyes and the two sets of retractable fangs.

I began to unpack my suitcases, Abigail offered to assist but I shot her down and did my best to be polite about it. Having a ‘bright’ ‘innocent’ girl like herself put away packaged bags of blood among other things was too much of a headache to have to deal with. She understood, and offered to give me space and time to unload everything.

I thanked her, nodding my head. “I’ll be faster unpacking alone.'' I threw in, not wanting to sound like an asshole. “Give me a few minutes and I'll let you assist me in grabbing my uniform and schedule.”

Abigail almost jumped out of her skin at the opportunity. “Yes!!! iI would love it too! Of course, no problem– I'll be down the hallway when you're ready!”

As soon as she left the room, I sighed.

“Father…what have you gotten me into now..?”