Reblogging From My Shadow-reader Days

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

🗗 UNLIKELIHOOD | p. sunghoon

n. the state or fact of not being likely to happen, be done, or be true.

PRECIS. the chances of you confessing to your crush sums to zero when you realise you have to pretend to have a crush on sunghoon, just to help your friend hide her feelings for the ice prince.

or, alternatively, in which you borrow an eraser from your friend, yi kyeong, which has sunghoon's name written on it. so, when the mentioned boy sees it, you have no other choice but to lie that you have a crush on him to avoid disclosing your friend's secret.

GENRE. humour, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, coming of age, setter!sunghoon pls im on my knees

WARNINGS. profanities, food mentions, crying, dumb jokes, kys and kms jokes at times. sungchan cameo yayaya it was originally sunoo but that made things a tad bit harder. more or less an inner monologue.

NOTE. i said i won't be writing but here we are. this is very very slightly inspired by kieta hatsukoi. this, in no way, is supposed to disrespect the manga plot in anyway. i'm aware that it's a bl manga + show, i respect that. i wanted to write something with the plot and i know i could've made this a bl fic but first, i'm simply not comfortable with romantic portrayals of idol x idol ships and second, i'm not experienced with writing x male reader fics and i don't want to get anything wrong. besides, nothing really is same except the eraser and name incident. on another note, the pronouns for reader used here are they / them to make this more inclusive so you can imagine it whichever way you wish. send an ask / comment to join the taglist. happy reading. playlist

CHAPTERS | PROLOGUE

❝ on a scale of zero to ten, what is the unlikelihood of— ❞

،، one. creating a problem for yourself ،، two. failing at solving the problem ،، three. miscommunicate and worsen the problem ،، four. almost solving the problem ،، five. creating another problem

series taglist. [ open ] @fairybangtan @tobiosbbyghorl @gsknikki @marievllr-abg @staymiracle @iamsimplyasimp @cyuuupid @love-4-keum @softforqiankun @hobistigma @diestheticu @ihugchae @maiverie @makiswrld @maemarahuya @vantxx95 @hazalnut @abdiitcryy @happyyyandcrazyyy @my5colors

Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.

This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.

— terrified ⟢

minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies you—he remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.

★ FEATURING; minghao x f!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 4.4k words

★ TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic

★ NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae

In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.

"How many kids do you want in the future?"

"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."

It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first posted—a reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.

It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.

Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.

"I don't really want to have kids..."

You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.

Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in waves—as if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.

Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chest—a tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.

"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."

For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. But—"

Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lips—one that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.

"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"

That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."

It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.

But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.

One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a while—Joshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.

Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.

It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.

The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.

But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.

It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.

Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.

It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.

But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearment—nearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.

Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.

What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.

Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.

It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.

"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."

The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.

It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.

"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.

Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"

He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.

But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.

"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."

The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.

While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.

But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.

"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"

It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.

While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the children—Minghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.

So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.

As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.

It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.

"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"

For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.

"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.

"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."

Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actions—even from his stare alone.

"And what do you think it is that I want?"

"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."

God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.

It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living room—cups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.

He's rightfully nervous—hands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.

With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.

"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admits—hitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."

It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.

Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.

What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.

"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."

"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"

"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"

Oh. Oh.

"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kids—"

"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"

He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."

"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.

"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."

The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.

"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.

"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"

Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"

"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."

"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"

"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."

Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.

"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your hand—pressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."

Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"

"Hey, like I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"

The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.

Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Then I want that, too."

Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.

For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe to stop taking the pills at this point in your life.

Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest album—one where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.

And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.

But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.

"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"

With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"

He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"

"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."

Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.

He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.

The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal wave—inevitable, inescapable.

(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)

The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.

Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cunt—filling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.

"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."

"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.

"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."

You preen at his praise—no matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.

Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few moments—refractory period be damned—before gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.

"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."

"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."

"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of you—even your kids."

Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.

Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.

The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into you—the weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.

"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"

You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"

"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."

"W-Wait, I—"

Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clit—lathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.

He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.

So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no time—muffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.

"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."

Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long as—f-fuck—you'll always be mine."

You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.

It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.

"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."

"Y/N, we're already married."

"I don't see how that's a problem."

As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.

Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.

⟢ end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)

RAINBOW CHEETAH — CHOI HYUNSUK

hyunsuk x gn!reader | wc : 0.9k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, best friends au, platonic bestie stuff, mentions of killing (playful, as a joke) | request : do you make completely platonic content? if you could, hyunsuk same-aged best friend. two tired bffs whose plans to go out were ruined by the rain messing around with his hair on the dorm and the members just keeps interrupting them in the bathroom to ask something so they don't realize they were using actual hair dye and not the temporary one until it's too late (hence hyunsuk's little colored spots on his blonde hair)

“it’s all your fault! now we can’t go out because of you!”

hyunsuk accusingly stated, furrowing his brows as he looked out the window before turning to look at you.

“oh, suddenly am i some water god?” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as you playfully glared at him. “how could i possibly make it rain, idiot? that’s ridiculous!”

the blond chuckled at your reaction, sitting next to you as you both stared out the window, silently listening to the pitter-patter of the rain. “well, that cancels out our walk in the park,” he mumbled, linking your arms as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“what will we do then?” you asked, tracing random shapes on your best friend’s hands as you waited for suggestions. “obviously we can’t go out in this rain.”

“wait, i think i saw yoshi buy some temporary hair dye!” hyunsuk exclaimed, eyes widening in excitement. “maybe we can color my hair!”

just like two excited little kids, you and hyunsuk sneaked into yoshi’s room in the dorm, grabbing the temporary dye from his table before running to the bathroom. the two of you discarded the boxes without a second thought, mixing the contents on a palette you had also found in yoshi’s room.

bless that redhead, he has everything in his room.

“we just apply it like we do with normal hair dye, right?” you checked; brows furrowed unsurely. “i don’t know how this works.”

“i don’t know either.” hyunsuk shrugged, sitting in the middle of the bathroom as you stood with a paintbrush. “let’s just go with it. i mean, it’s temporary dye. i can just wash it off if we mess up.”

as soon as you placed the brush on the male’s hair, the door flung open with a crash, revealing jaehyuk and jeongwoo. you held a hand over your heart, completely startled by their appearance, while hyunsuk had a blank expression on his face, depicting he was used to it.

“hyung, have you seen asahi and haruto?”

“they are at the studio,” he responded, exhaling deeply. “also, please use proper manners and knock on the doors before you enter.”

the younger two nodded hastily, running out as soon as their leader answered the question. you went back to applying the hair dye, a small smile on your face as you could see how much your best friend adored his members — noting the way he had an apologetic expression while he sternly spoke to them.

“must be fun with them, huh?” you asked, outlining a blob before coloring in on his blonde hair. “your members, i mean,” you clarified upon seeing hyunsuk’s confused expression.

“oh, yeah. the boys are–” he paused, hearing someone call for him. “in the bathroom!”

jihoon stood near the doorway, brows raising as he saw you. “y/n? i didn’t know you were here. i could’ve — actually, never mind.” he shook his head, waving off his words before looking at the older male. “hyung, i won’t be able to make it to the meeting tomorrow, so can you fill in for me?”

hyunsuk nodded understandingly. “yeah, sure. don’t worry about it,” he responded. “is that it?” he inquired, wordlessly hinting for the male to leave so you two could get back to your best friend bonding activity.

well, yes, dyeing hair is a little extreme to be an activity for best friends to bond over, but with the rain, there wasn’t anything else interesting to do indoors.

the two of you exchanged small talk, catching up on the days you missed with each other as you wiped away the dye you accidentally got on the male’s face. you placed your hand under hyunsuk’s chin, gently pulling him closer as you focused on cleaning the area, oblivious to the proximity between your faces.

“if you are going to keep leaning in, you might as well lick the dye off, y/n.” hyunsuk joked, chuckling when you playfully hit his arm. “jokes aside, though, how bad is your eyesight for you to lean in so much?” his motherly instincts kicked in, raising his brow in question.

you scoffed, shaking your head. “it’s not that bad, okay?!” you defended. “i just wanted to make sure you didn’t–” your words fizzled out as you heard someone yell, knowing very well it was for hyunsuk.

“hyung!” junghwan called out, repeating the word until he found the elder in the bathroom. “hyu—oh, y/n, you are here too.”

“what is it now?” hyunsuk groaned, sighing frustrated at the constant disturbances from his members. “what is it this time?”

the youngest of treasure merely shrugged, smiling brightly. “i just wanted to hang out with you,” he answered innocently, getting an apologetic gaze from the eldest.

however, the silence that followed only lasted for five more seconds.

“hyung?”

“yes, hwan-ah. tell me.”

junghwan glanced at the box in his hand before giving his hyung a wary look. “why are you dyeing your hair?” treasure’s maknae continued. “did manager-hyung give you the permission?”

“i don’t need permission for temporary dye, hwanie.”

“the box says ‘permanent dye’, though.”

both you and your best friend paled at the youngest’s words, slowly grabbing the boxes you had ripped open, trying to find where it said ‘permanent’. and then you found it. you bit your lip, looking at hyunsuk as you practically saw his soul leave his body.

“suk, it’s okay, we can–”

“no! it’s not okay! i know you are laughing! shut up!”

you stifled your laugh as hyunsuk hurriedly tried washing off the hair dye; the regret settling in as he realized it was truly permanent. “it’s not that bad, honestly.” you tried assuring him, raising your hands in surrender when he gave you a look. “you look a beautiful rainbow cheetah.” you smiled, hoping it’d stop your best friend from glaring daggers into your soul.

“if my management kills me, i’m killing you, y/n. sleep with one eye open.”

taglist — @kflixnet @ravenori @xiaosimp3 @nanasdream @twntycm @heejojo @jaesvelvet @fightmegirl @koishua @lovethyfandoms2 @kpoprhia @woooooooosh8 @milkybonya @enhacolor @yunho-leeknow @yoshiikore @f4ery @candililac @willdieforbeidou @luvbrie @mui890mew @yogurteume @one16core @soobin-choi @odetoyeonjun @wonluvrbot @augustle0 @acciomylove @idkwatodoanymore @kyufilms @wyynn @ily-cuz-i @enhatrejor (to be added, please send an ask or dm!)

TREASURE MASTERLIST

© 2022 ALOHAJUN | PLEASE REFRAIN FROM COPYING OR REPOSTING MY WORK WITHIN OR OUTSIDE THIS SITE

everything here is just, 👩🏻‍🍳💋✨

the most basic MASTERLIST ever

I don’t take requests! I just write whatever I want 🤷🏻‍♀️

NCT

How to (not) Write a Book (M): Werewolf! Taeyong x Female reader

Comforting Jisung (M)

Fuck the Police (M): Werewolf! Yuta x Witch! Female reader

The Moon Makes No Mistakes (M): Werewolf! Jeno x Female reader x Werewolf! Jaemin

Perfect Little Toy (M): Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader

Too Young (M): Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader (Sequel to Presenting)

New Town, New Me(M): Werewolf! Jaemin x Witch! Female reader

Presenting(M): Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader

Sucks to Be Him(M): Werewolf! Haechan x Witch! Female reader

Epiphany(M): Werewolf! Doyoung x Witch! female reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt. 3) (pt. 4) (pt. 5) (pt. 6) (pt. 7) (pt. 8) (pt. 9) (pt. 10) (pt. 11) (pt. 12) (pt. 13 FINALE)

is it wrong, to want to know, what his final message was 😭

— daylight ⟢

when hoshi first opened his eyes, the singular impulse hard-wired into his circuitry is to dance. a performer in every sense of the word, he simply finds another stage to set foot on in the planet of salax after the escape. people never overstay their welcome here, but he unexpectedly meets you—a mechanic born and raised in a place where no one deigns to linger for too long.

★ FEATURING; soonyoung x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9k words

★ TAGS; automaton!hoshi, mechanic!reader, a bunch of stray kids members make appearances bc HA!, mentions of sex work, mutual pining? angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; implied dubious consent (with hoshi and a character that isn't the mc), mentions of terminal illnesses and surgeries

★ NOTES; fun fact! this collab was 9 months in the making and i am cramming this on the very last day of my extension :D very unprofessional of me, but here it is! p.s. little side note that the chan that's constantly mentioned in the fic is bang chan, not lee chan!

this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!

★ SMUT TAGS; robot sex, unprotected sex, first time together, they're just so desperate for each other yk

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz - @dkswife

★ SOONYOUNG TAGLIST; @ak6ko - @nikkell - @yoonzinoooo

100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed.

The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight.

However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.

Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automatons, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.

Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.

At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities—

“That’s enough telly for one day, don’tcha think?”

A frown tugs at your lips when you hear the familiar voice of your next-door neighbor who also makes a living out of trading tech junk in exchange for money. Han Jisung is a bit of an oddball—even by your planet’s standards, and everyone knows how strange the dwellers of Salax could be. If he was on Earth, he would’ve been ostracized as a complete loon, but unfortunately the stack of television monitors right outside his shop is your only source of entertainment these days. 

(Which might sound preposterous to some, since Salax is often dubbed as the planet of entertainment. Just not the kind you’re looking for.)

“Why are you even watching a documentary that’s nearly a decade old?” you huff, clutching a bag of tools you bought from the other side of town closer to your chest. “I thought you didn’t give a shit about Automaton celebrities—that Chan’s dancer trinity could outperform any machine?” 

“Now, Giz, no need to be so stingy,” Jisung chuckles and your eye twitches at the condescending nickname. “You know that's not why I’m watching this old thing.”

As if on cue, the only working screen in the sea of television static before you flickers from a scene of breathtaking idol performances to a closeup on a familiar Automaton who’s been burning up the stage since he first opened his eyes.

“Hoshi looked so sparkly when he debuted,” Jisung comments as the documentary continues to play. “Actually, they all did. Makes me wonder why those idols thought it’d be a good idea to break out of their facilities. Weren’t they treated like royalty back on Earth? What’s he doing in a dump like this?”

“Jisung,” you sigh. “Why’d you ask me to come here again?” 

“Oh. Right. I'll bring him into your lab, Giz.”

He calls you Giz because you’re known around these parts as someone who can fix any gadget and gizmo; every robot and Automaton that’s dropped into your care. It just so happens that, with the nature of his business, Jisung is the one who typically directs potential customers your way.

Which is what he’s doing right now. 

“Didn’t he already come in here last week? And the week before that?” Your neighbor grumbles as he helps your mutual friend Minho heft a powered down Automaton on the table in your lab. “It was Hyunjin who brought him the first time. Then Felix. Now you?”

“He’s a bot, what’d you expect?” Minho huffs. “They break down every now and again.”

“You break down every now and again too, but you don’t visit the doctor every week, no?” Jisung quips. “Idol bots really have no business wanderin’ into the galaxy’s red light district when they can’t handle the heat.”

“Jisung, shut up,” you apprehend him sharply, all while getting to work on the Automaton lying on your work table. “I can’t fix anything when you’re running your mouth too close to my ear.”

Your neighbor simply chuckles before patting Minho on the back. “Oh, yeah. You’ve gotta be in your handywoman element and everything. Well, Minho and I are gonna pop open some cold ones from your fridge—”

“No.

“—from my fridge while you work on that dying star over there,” Jisung makes it a point to cast the same robot he’d just been watching a documentary of a pitiful glance. “Seriously though, won’t Chan-hyung just consider selling him to me? Bet this guy’s parts would make a great fortune in the black market.”

“And how are you going to explain that you managed to turn up Hoshi of 53V3NT33N’s body parts without getting arrested?” Minho barks before yanking Jisung by the ear to the entrance of your lab. “Sorry about him, Y/N. He must be a pain in the ass to have as a neighbor.”

"You're a pain in the ass for constantly getting me to fix this guy, too,” you mumble as you start to unbutton Hoshi’s shirt to access the panel concealing the circuitry panel underneath his chest. “I’m all for saving what can still be saved, but maybe Jisung is onto something. Why aren’t you guys just chopping up his parts if he breaks down this often?” 

Jisung nods with a huff. “Can’t be good for business even if he used to be a famous idol, that’s for sure.”

The lab is silent apart from the whir of the machines mounted on your walls, and it’s this sullen atmosphere that makes Minho’s reply have all the more weight to it.

“You guys aren’t dancers. You wouldn’t be able to understand.”

The first time you met rogue idol Automaton Hoshi in his titanium-clad glory was during a rare night when Jisung coaxed you out of your lab to "have real fun for once". Your neighbor is easily one of the most overbearing people you know, so you simply tagged along for the sake of getting him to shut up more than anything else.

But when he droned on and on about this new recruit Minho managed to scour off the streets, you never expected that Jisung would be talking about a bot and not some fledgling dancer with little to his name.

Well, in retrospect, Hoshi is a dancer—a performer, even. Despite his group's intergalactic status as outlaws because of the simultaneous escape stunt they pulled several months ago, not a single soul in Salax wished to report his whereabouts to the concerned authorities.

Where the other bots from 53V3NT33N are, you haven't the slightest clue, but if your planet's natives have widely accepted Hoshi's presence even if he's been here for a month at most, who are you to dictate otherwise?

Passionate. That's the best word you can use to describe the way he dances. All the movements that his body makes are calculated, purposeful. Each roll of his hips, each snap of his limbs, every memorable expression that colors his face—the intensity of Hoshi's performance all bleeds into his passion for the art of dance.

In your many years of tending and tinkering with machines, this is probably the first time you wondered if a bot's creator infused part of his soul into the code. You know of a few Automatons that are being used as entertainers and even escorts for the lecherous visitors of Salax, yet none of them come as close to being human as Hoshi is in your book.

But on that same night, you managed to witness the polar end of the spectrum. The one where Hoshi's fiery passion crumbled into crippling anxiety. 

Automaton malfunctions aren't an uncommon occurrence here. The reason why not many Level 1 bots ever set foot on Salax is because the planet's electromagnetic fields mess with their delicate circuitry and sometimes even tamper with their code.

These Automatons are celebrities—meaning their parts are made out of sleek material to allow ease of movement and rid them of the rigid and bulky framework of infernal bots. But because of the flimsy hardware coupled with the harsh environment, you're not surprised to see an Automaton as intricately crafted as Hoshi break down in the middle of a performance.

He's a mess. The practiced choreography was seemingly wiped out of his programming as he convulsed on-stage, sparks flitting from the seams of his joints. The bar’s manager, Chan, was quick to bark out orders to bring Hoshi off the platform and just let the other dancers cover the rest of the routine. 

You thought the immediate recall of an obviously defected Automaton would mean he was done for. But then again, Salax is a place with little resources to burn. As long as a bot can still do its job, the owner will have it fixed time and time again until its artificial nervous system shuts down for good. 

That’s how Hoshi ended up in your lab the first time. 

There’s a childlike curiosity in his gaze when he wakes up after you check if all his wires are in place and if his code remains uncorrupted. It almost feels like seeing a baby open its eyes for the first time, but you know better than to associate human traits with something that’s anything but. 

“Horanghae,” Hoshi says without any real context as he bares his fingers at you, while Hyunjin, the dancer who brought him here alongside Jisung, groans in contempt.

“That’s the first thing he said when Chan-hyung booted him up too,” he sighs. “Is it like some starting screen sound effect or something? What does that even mean?”

As things stand, you don’t know either. But seeing that Hoshi isn’t glitching anymore makes a wave of relief wash over you in a rather unexpected way. While it isn’t the first time you’ve had to fix a humanoid robot, you don’t work much on machines that grin at you so wide, their eyes disappear.

Then again, there’s always room for firsts.

“Why’d you choose to go here after you escaped?”

You chose to ask Hoshi the question that’s been weighing on your mind despite having little to no reassurance of the ingenuity of his answer. You’re aware that though Automatons—especially Level 1’s—are sentient, you have zero background on their psychological makeup, the thought process behind their decisions, everything but the baseline components of their hardware. 

Hoshi hums for a moment, wincing when you accidentally nick one of the wires directly connected to the nerves on his thigh. “I dunno. I just wanted to dance.”

“Hm. And you thought you’d be able to do that here?” 

He nods as if it was a practiced response. Maybe it is. “Yeah. My old mechanic told me Salax is a place where all sorts of dancers flock together. I kinda wanted to go with Wonwoo when we all escaped, but…I wanted to dance even more.”

Whoever that mechanic was, they must’ve left out the part where your home planet is quite literally a den for one’s deepest, darkest desires. Dancers at clubs are just merely scratching the tip of the iceberg. The depravity of Salax’s denizens and visitors alike goes even further than that, but you suppose it’s not the right time to disillusion such an innocent bot so early in his new career.

After all, Chan’s club might be like any other salacious establishment out there, but from what you know about him through Minho and Jisung, he isn’t the type to just throw a clueless Automaton into becoming a nightly escort. You’ll let Hoshi live out his dream to keep dancing on whatever stage he sets his eyes on—even if that means he’ll start frequenting your lab for regular maintenance checkups.

“Where’s Jisung?” 

The question surprises you a little when Hoshi articulates it while you’re in the middle of tidying up your work table. Normally, he’d be out of the lab once you were done and whichever human dancer is chaperoning him for the day would pay for the services you rendered and they’d be on their merry way back to the main district. 

It’s completely out of character for him to ask questions. You weren’t even aware that he knew Jisung’s name, which makes you wonder…

Does he know yours? You’ve never really introduced yourself to the machines you end up tinkering with on your work table. 

Choosing not to dwell on it, you instead respond with, “Jisung is…at the hospital. He goes there every weekend.”

“Hospital,” Hoshi repeats the word as if it was something he’s only hearing about the first time. “My mechanic had to go to the hospital because she was sick one time. I didn’t see her for a while. Will Jisung be okay? Why is he in the hospital?”

You didn’t think sentient robots would have such a complex sense of self that they’re actually capable of empathy. It makes you stare at Hoshi, who’s staring back at you with a look asking for confirmation, and the unreadable expression on your face melts into soft laughter. 

Your reaction, however, confuses the Automaton a little. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just amusing for me that you care that much about someone who’s constantly threatening to disassemble your parts and sell them in the intergalactic black market.”

“Well, if he needs them, I don’t mind.”

“If you let Jisung do that, you wouldn’t be able to dance anymore,” you point out before locking your toolbox, casting him a pointed look. “Will you really be alright with that? Not being able to do the thing that brought you here in the first place?”

Hoshi’s face scrunches up for a moment—as if he’s taking his time to actually think about his answer. Another speck of amusement prickles your chest. He has such human mannerisms that if you didn’t constantly see what’s underneath the clothes the bar provides him with, you never would’ve thought he was a bot.

“It would suck, but… Automatons were made to serve the humans around us, weren’t we?” he wonders out loud. “If my purpose is to get chopped up for parts, then I don’t really have any qualms with that.”

“Your purpose was to entertain millions of people across the galaxy as an idol group,” you deadpan. “But here you are in Salax, light years away from the rest of your members. You can cut the moral bullshit, Hoshi. We’re all selfish degenerates here anyway.”

For the first time, his expression twists into a frown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”

“You don’t have to. It’s not that much of a big deal.” You shake your head and at the same time, you hear the sound of someone rapping their knuckles on the door to your lab. “Oh, Felix is already here. Good luck with tonight’s show.” 

“You didn’t answer me.”

You can almost hear the pout in Hoshi’s voice, prompting you to cast him a sidelong glance. “Answer what?”

“Why is Jisung in the hospital?”

You let out your umpteenth sigh of the evening, opening the door to your lab to reveal a dressed-to-kill Felix that smiles and waves at the two of you.

“His older brother is sick and Jisung always goes to the hospital to take care of him on weekends,” you explain as simply as you could. “Does that finally sate your curiosity?” 

It takes him a few moments to process the information he’d just been told, but Hoshi eventually breaks into that familiar, eye-crinkling grin—clearly satisfied with your answer.

“It did. Thank you, Giz.”

Well, that’s not quite your name, but you suppose it’ll do.

For Hoshi’s next checkup, you immediately sense that something’s amiss.

Typically, the Automaton waltzes into your lab and hefts himself on your work table before you can even get a chance to say hello to both him and his assigned chaperone. Today, it’s Minho but unlike last week’s visit, Jisung is here to lighten up the atmosphere in his usual Jisung fashion. 

Though it’s not enough to conceal the obvious discombobulation your patient is currently experiencing.

“You two,” you call out, referring to the only other humans inside the lab. “Can you step out for a while? I’m gonna talk to Hoshi.”

Jisung, of course, is quick to initiate his rapid-fire questions. “What? Why would you need some alone time with a sexy bot, Giz? You’re not becoming one of those deranged mechanics who gets off with their Automatons, right?” 

“Quit yapping and just let her do her job,” Minho scolds before dragging Jisung out of the lab by the wrist. But he doesn’t leave before yelling over his shoulder. “Just call us when you’re done!”

When Minho pulls the door shut and the automatic locks come into place, you turn to Hoshi with an inquisitive look.

“What happened?” 

The question is met with a wince—as if you took out a cigarette and burned his silicone skin with the smoldering edge. Hoshi makes it a point to avoid your eyes, which only further confirms your theory that something is most definitely up.

“I…had my first client the other day.”

Ah.

While you haven’t personally dabbled in the services being offered by the red light district, you’ve been friends with Minho long enough to pick up on the basics. With how much attention Hoshi has been garnering for himself, it was only a matter of time before Chan would let him entertain their club’s regulars in a way that he was probably never taught as an idol.

After all, Level 1s are considered the purest of all the Automaton classes. You’ve always wondered what would happen if they were exposed to activities of the sexual kind, but from the uneasy look on Hoshi’s face, you’re afraid it might not have been a great first time.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” 

It feels a little silly, playing therapist for a literal machine. But the longer you serve as Hoshi’s regular mechanic here on Salax, the more you realize that things would be less stressful if you treated him just like you would treat any other human being out there.

He’s an Automaton—a robot—but because of the groundbreaking discovery of their ability to become sentient several decades ago,  you’re more than inclined to hear him out.

“The other dancers helped me prepare. Chan told me time and time again that I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to but…” He starts, voice coming out softer than you’re used to—more reserved. “I wanted to. I wanted to be of use to them. I knew that lots of our customers wished for me to become their escort, so I just repaid Chan’s kindness by doing my job.”

Your lips tug into a grimace. “You don’t look very pleased with the outcome though.”

Hoshi purses his lips and that alone is already an answer.

You don’t pester him any further than that. Instead, you quietly instruct him to take off his shirt and lie on the table like he always does. Hoshi complies surprisingly quickly—following your orders with clockwork precision. He’s in position merely ten seconds after you gave the word.

When you perform your regular examination beneath his chest plate, nothing seems out of turn. Part of you wants to check the circuitry inside his head just to make sure he’s doing alright up there. It’s been a while since Hoshi has been brought here because of a breakdown, so you haven’t bothered inspecting the wires beneath his artificial skull. You wonder if he even wants to—

“It felt good,” your patient tells you all of a sudden, nearly making you drop the tools you’re using to poke around inside his chest cavity. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to even feel that way, but I did.”

Composing yourself, you manage a small nod. “Okay. Did you enjoy it at least?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you want to do it again?”

“...With her? Not really.”

Hoshi falls silent for the next few minutes once more, which affords you all the silence you need to concentrate on what you’re doing. After closing his chest panel and lubricating the screws on his external joints, he was more or less in the clear. But from the way his uncharacteristic silence still persists, you know that he still has a couple more things on his mind.

“I didn’t like the way she said my name.” 

You glance at Hoshi with a quizzical look, implicitly asking him to elaborate, which he thankfully does in a heartbeat.

“When I was still with the rest of 53V3NT33N, the fans would call out my name and it always felt good. It felt euphoric, even,” he reminisces as he sits up on the table, dark eyes trained on the tiled floor. “But with my client…it was the first time I felt unnerved hearing it come from another person’s mouth. It’s like—like she only saw me as a thing to enjoy. Not someone she loves, like our fans love me.” 

The honesty in his words makes your heart sink. 

Turns out, ridding an Automaton of its figurative innocence isn’t so different from that of a real person. The glittering curiosity that’s always been present in Hoshi’s eyes is nowhere to be found and you feel a deep-seated anger pooling in the pit of your stomach at the knowledge.

“Can you give me a new one?”

Blinking the irritation out of your eyes, you stare at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“A new name,” Hoshi says softly. “I never really liked the name Hoshi. Our management just thought it would make for good business to base my image around tigers. What’s more is that this city has already tainted it for me.” 

The bitter laugh that follows his words has your chest aching with an emotion you can’t name. When was the last time you became this sad on a machine’s behalf, you wonder…

“Are you sure?” you murmur. “I’m not your boss or anything. If there’s anyone who has the right to give you a name, wouldn’t it be Chan?”

Hoshi shakes his head. “No. I want it to be you.”

Humans are already hard to figure out, but with each session you share with Hoshi, you learn that Automatons are even more so. He stares at you with such intense desperation in his eyes that you find it difficult to deny him. So, with a deep breath, you say the first name that pops into your head.

“How about...Soonyoung,” you breathe. “You are powerful because of your innocence and glory combined. It’s obvious in how you haven’t tapped out because of that less-than-stellar time with your first client.”

“Soonyoung…” he whispers under his breath, as if testing how the syllables would taste in his mouth. When the corners of his lips twitch into a smile, you know you’ve struck gold. “Did you just invent what the name means or…?”

“That’s for me to keep and for you to find out.” You shrug. “Well? Do you like your new name?” 

“It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.”

“...That doesn’t really make a lot of sense.”

Soonyoung laughs. “You’re the one who gave it to me. So it belongs to you, too.”

I belong to you too, you can almost hear him say, but erase the idea from your brain before you can get any more silly thoughts. 

“Well, I think we should go. My sensors tell me that someone is very pissed off on the other side and I’m guessing that Jisung must’ve said something that annoyed Minho again.”

“For a robot, you’re pretty adept at picking up on human emotions,” you point out teasingly.

“Of course I am. I always want to appeal to the emotions of those around me, Y/N. Why do you think I dance my heart out every time I’m in the club?”

Oh. 

He does know your name after all.

That evening, you decided to tag along with the boys to the club—grabbing a table for Jisung and yourself as you watched tonight’s lineup of performers. Soonyoung, with his newfound confidence thanks to the name you bestowed upon him, looks just as breathtaking as he was in the prime of his idol years. You wouldn’t have thought he’d just had an unsavory encounter with a client with how brightly he grins at the audience.

He reminds you a little of daylight breaking through the horizon minutes after dawn—almost blinding in his brilliance, but too precious for you to miss out on.

“What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung sounds a little annoyed when he glances over his shoulder. Your most loyal patient came in alone for the first time in months for his weekly maintenance check-up, but for some reason, his trusted mechanic is much more interested in something else.

You’re still tinkering with a portable hologram projector that wandered into Jisung’s weekly junk stash—one that your neighbor gave to you as a little plaything that’s been taking up most of your morning trying to figure out. 

“Give me a second,” you grumble as you attempt to salvage the inner workings of the worn out thing with a soldering iron. “I’ve only read about these things in books, and my old mentor said they usually contain the final messages of a ship captain whose spacecraft is about to get destroyed.” 

“That’s weirdly specific of you, don’t you think?” Soonyoung huffs. “Come on. I’ve got a client to meet in two hours and Hyunjin’s being really annoying with this new routine he came up with. I need to go back and practice as soon as I’m done here.” 

You let out a quiet laugh before giving up on the hologram projector. “Oh? Time sure flies, doesn’t it? I could’ve sworn you hated taking up clients just yesterday.” 

He whines. “It’s been half a year since I started doing that!”

“Like I said—time flies!”

Your sessions have grown shorter and shorter with each passing week. Every time you fine-tune Soonyoung’s circuitry, you observe that he’s become less prone to internal malfunctions. You didn’t think it was possible for a Level 1 Automaton to fully adapt to the frequency of the electromagnetic waves in Salax, but Soonyoung has surprised you time and time again. 

Now, he can go on for weeks without powering down to regain his energy. He’s as good as any dancer—both human and robot—can be, and you honestly consider telling him that he doesn’t really have to come in for his weekly check-ups anymore.

Soonyoung, however, doesn’t seem thrilled with the news. 

“What do you mean I don’t have to come here anymore?” He pouts.

“There’s nothing left for me to check, big guy,” you sigh as you seal his chest panel back up. “You’ve been stable for months now. I don’t even charge Chan for your check-ups anymore since everything is relatively normal.”

“But if I don’t get any check-ups, can I still come here?”

You make a face at him. “What for?”

“To hang out! Minho and Jisung do it all the time. Although Jisung always barges into the club uninvited and we have to stop Minho from beating him up…”

His invite perplexes you more than it flatters you because… You’ve never encountered any cases where an Automaton would willingly go out of its way to spend time with a human that doesn’t hold any sort of authority over it. 

They’re sentient, yes, but at the end of the day, those emotions that others trick themselves into believing that bots can feel are just a clever arrangement of ones and zeros. It’s easy to lose oneself into one’s own delusions when in need of a little company, but you know that you aren’t that desperate for companionship. 

It’s always just been you and the bots and other machines you fix for a living. Well, maybe Minho and Jisung when they’re not busy trying to piss each other off. You don’t need to hang out with Soonyoung. 

And yet…

“Fine,” you relent with little resistance, feigning nonchalance by fluttering back to the projector you’ve been trying to salvage. “Just don’t make too much of a racket or I’ll kick you out.”

Soonyoung beams at your agreement, tugging his shirt back on before shuffling towards you and embracing you from behind. The suddenness of the gesture obviously catches you by surprise. You nearly drop the portable holo projector, but Soonyoung’s reaction time is quite phenomenal. 

“Hey, don’t drop it. It’s already been through a lot.” 

Still unnerved by the feel of his beefy, synthetic arms wrapped around your frame, you glance at him warily. “You talk like it’s some sentient creature.”

“It is! Well, by some degree, I guess,” Soonyoung chuckles before flipping the thing over in his hand. “Machines are just like people too. If you listen close enough, you can hear what they want to tell you.”

“Uh-huh,” you drawl before disentangling yourself from his embrace before you could implode from embarrassment. If he notices just how flustered you are, he doesn’t show it. “What’s this thing trying to tell you then?”

“Its creator hid the switch inside the motherboard, but you’re damaging it with a soldering iron. You just need to look for it harder.” Soonyoung hands the gadget back to you with a warm smile. “Well, I’ve gotta go now. Hopefully, when I go hang out with you, that thing will already be fixed.” 

Soonyoung prances out of the lab with a skip to his step before you can even give your own input. When you hear the front door of your house click shut, you grab your toolbox with a withering sigh before trying a different approach to your current predicament.

To your chagrin, it’s just as Soonyoung said—the switch was hidden somewhere beneath the motherboard and you were able to witness a space cadet’s last five minutes of life. 

He talked about how much he missed home, how he wished he just died on Earth instead of being launched into space after the implosion of the sun of the first solar system. Then, he left a message for a woman that used to be his childhood sweetheart—saying that it was only a matter of time before they were reunited. Before you can glean any more information about the cadet, the feed was cut off and hologram flickered out. 

The entire experience leaves you dumbfounded for about five minutes. A hologram from over a hundred years ago just wound up in Jisung’s junk stash. What are the odds?

“Giz? Are you in here?”

Speaking of Jisung, the devil himself weasels his way into your lab just when you’re done tidying up your little experiment for today. You’re just about to tell him what you saw in the holo projector, but the look on his face makes you pause.

The cheerful, pain-in-the-ass neighbor of yours seems a little…exhausted. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his cheeks look a bit thinner than you remember. Jisung is the kind of person that rarely lets the things that bother him show on his face, so you’re a little concerned to see him in such a state right now.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” 

He doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s Jieun… He’s—He needs a heart transplant. If he doesn’t get a replacement in eight weeks, he’ll die. I can’t handle that, Y/N. I can’t lose him. He’s the only family I’ve got left…”

You panic internally somewhat when Jisung starts rambling in front of you, tears streaking his face as the man who you thought was always a step ahead of everybody starts to crumble before you. You’re not expert in consoling people who direly need it, but you’re at least rational enough to lead him out of your stuffy lab and back to the comfort of your living room.

There, you give Jisung a glass of water and several minutes to catch his breath.

Once he calms down, he speaks.

“I’ve already outsourced a compatible donor,” he murmurs. “It should all be in the clear now, but the problem right now is money. The shitty healthcare system on this planet won’t greenlight any transplants unless everything is paid in full. I-I can’t come up with the money they want from me in less than two months.”

Fuck. He’s in a tight spot then. “Oh, Jisung…”

“But I’ve thought of a way that might work if you help me.”

You flash him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Jisung’s throat bobs before letting out a shuddering breath. You only notice how bloodshot his eyes are when he leans closer to tell you about his so-called plan.

“Some intergalactic guards have been spotted around the main district lately. Word from the street is that they’re still searching for the other members of that idol group that escaped Earth and that a generous reward would be given to everyone who’ll cooperate,” he whispers conspiratorially, and from those few sentences alone, you’re already dreading what he’s planning. “If I lead them to Hoshi, I should be able to raise enough money for Jieun’s surgery. Enough that I can even split the reward between the two of us!”

“No,” you tell him sharply. “You’re not going to sell out Soo—Hoshi like that. He practically lives here already.”

“He’s just a fucking bot, Giz,” Jisung snaps. “The worst they’ll do if they catch him is give him time out for a few days until he’s back to being the idol that everyone knows and loves. If I don’t get the money I need for my brother’s transplant, he’s going to die.”

You hold Jisung’s intense stare despite not having a good enough comeback. He’s right. Soonyoung isn’t even supposed to be here at all. And if surrendering him to the cops meant Jisung would have the means to help his brother survive, the only logical thing to do is give him a hand.

But then you remember the way Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind the widest of grins whenever he’s enjoying himself. How he trusted you enough to confide in his troubles during his first client booking, the way his eyes sparkled when you first called him Soonyoung—

It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.

“I can’t help you, Jisung,” you murmur. “If you’re going to go about the situation like this, I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

Your neighbor and long-time friend nods once, twice before getting up from your couch. Guilt bites into your chest as Jisung leads himself to the front door, and you could’ve sworn your heart sank into your stomach when he closes it behind him.

In the ear-splitting silence, you wonder if there’s any way to save someone without sacrificing anybody else.

While it’s true that you’ve never taken up the type of entertainment that Salax is famous for, that doesn’t mean you’re completely unaware of what goes on during those sorts of transactions.

Despite himself, Minho can be a bit of a chatterbox especially when he’s had one drink too many. There was a time when he told you about how he was booked for the night by a married couple and they edged him until he was in tears on the mattress. Then, he proceeded to share that he was quite literally incapacitated for days because the wife had exceptional skill with her strap-ons. 

You don’t really hear these kinds of stories from Soonyoung. The possible reasons are 1.) Automatons don’t have a sense of gossip and see no benefit in sharing the gritty details of their sex lives, and 2.) He just doesn’t see you as someone worth telling said gritty details about.

The second possibility gnaws at you more than it should. You don’t really care about Soonyoung’s nightly escapades. You’re just his mechanic. As long as he doesn’t fuck himself up like he used to when he first started working at the club, you’ll have no complaints.

But after a late-night grocery store run, you unknowingly run into Soonyoung and someone who you presume to be one of his clients. They’re right outside the building of Chan’s club, and Soonyoung is obviously romancing the woman who paid for his company that night by caging her against the wall, whispering something in her ear with a sordid smirk.

You’ve never seen him like this. Whenever he’s with you, Soonyoung’s all too-wide smiles and unprovoked hugs. The more he hangs out with you during his free time, the more difficult it is for you to picture him as that seductive dancer that has charmed everyone who’s anyone on Salax.

Part of you—an irrational part of you—wants to hide him away from the rest of the world. But then you remember you’re just his mechanic and that it would be weird to be feeling this way about an Automaton, of all things.

You manage to brush off the scene you witnessed for a few weeks. Soonyoung still shows up at your house to watch a few movies or help you fix some other bots that come into the shop. He’s excellent company because his robot-to-robot communication skills make your job easier than it used to be.

Until one night, he snuggles up to you on the couch a little too closely—your heart beating a little too fast at the close proximity.

“I don’t get why she has to give up her tail for a man,” he murmurs from where his chin is propped on top of your shoulder, pulling you closer to him whether he knows it or not. “Aren’t there any other mermen that Ariel could just get with?”

“That’s what makes the story interesting, Soonie,” you chuckle, trying not to melt in his embrace despite knowing that the heat of his body is all artificial. “She’s sacrificing everything for love. It’s all part of the human experience.”

Soonyoung scoffs at that. “But Ariel’s a mermaid.” 

“Just shut up and watch the movie.”

Ever the obedient bot, your current company does as he’s told until the credits start rolling and you have to get up to rid yourself of a crick in your neck. You’ve been in the same position for over two hours, having forgotten that Automatons don’t need to move around to get comfortable in their seats. Oversight on your part, really.

But before you can even attempt to crawl out of Soonyoung’s secure embrace, he tugs you back down—forcing you to face him with a puzzled expression.

“I’m gonna get some water,” you tell him. “Let me go, clingy robot.”

He doesn’t budge. Soonyoung simply pins you in place with his firm grip and the heat of his stare, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he’s looking at you the same way he looked at that woman outside of Chan’s club a few nights ago.

“You saw me while I was working, didn’t you?” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

You swallow thickly. “W-Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I accidentally introduced myself with the name you gave me,” Soonyoung sighs, lower lip swelling into a pout. “I always go by Hoshi at work, but we’d just finished watching Pocahontas together before I timed in that night.”

“Soonyoung,” you address him warily, unsure of where you should place yourself in this situation. “What are you going on about? That name is yours.”

“And I told you that it’s yours as well, didn’t I?” His laughter is a soft noise that tickles the back of your neck, making gooseflesh prickle the skin of your arms. 

“I’m yours.”

His words make a steady buzz resound in your head, making you second guess if any of this is even real. Did you drink too many pints of beer and are currently hallucinating a Soonyoung that might feel the same way you do about him? That’s not right. Jisung already emptied your fridge of alcoholic beverages months ago and you haven’t bought any new packs since.

But if you’re not intoxicated, why in the world is an Automaton speaking to you as if he’s confessing feelings he doesn’t even have?

“You’re just hung up on the movie, you bucket of bolts,” you grumble, trying to push him off of you to no avail. Fuck. This is all very much real then. “Soonyoung, I’m not playing around.”

“Neither am I,” he whispers. When he leans closer, you don’t feel his breath on your face, don’t hear his heart thundering in his chest because he isn’t human. 

He isn’t human, yet why doesn’t that stop you from wanting him anyway?

“Tell me to get up and leave if you want me to stop,” Soonyoung proposes with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

You want him—you want him so fucking bad, it feels like a disease.

“Why’re you only coming for me with this now?” you whisper. “What prompted it?”

The handsome Automaton laughs quietly, caressing your face so delicately, you wonder if he learned to practice it from the countless clients he’s entertained. “I think I’ve always been a little attached to you since I first woke up after breaking down. You’re the one who cured my anxiety, Y/N. It’s only natural for me to feel drawn to you.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” 

“Heh. Fine. Maybe it’s because Ariel inspired me to be a little more like her—to sacrifice everything love.”

…Love? 

Soonyoung loves you? 

It doesn’t make sense. He isn’t supposed to love. Automatons are sentient, but they aren’t capable of a full spectrum of emotions. The mere prospect of it goes against everything you’ve been taught ever since you decided that you wanted to become a mechanic.

But from the way Soonyoung is looking at you alone, you remind yourself that every now and again, there are outliers to all the facts printed on every Automaton textbook you’ve buried your nose in. 

Rationality is your enemy at this point, and you toss all of it to the wind when you yank the front of Soonyoung’s shirt—mending your lips into a kiss that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. His mouth is soft on top of yours, and he moves to the cadence you’ve set so languidly, it almost feels fluid. You gasp into his mouth when Soonyoung curls an arm around your waist, pressing you as close to him as humanly possible.

“Soonyoung,” you whisper. “Want you.” 

He pulls away for a second—not even looking a fraction of how disheveled you are from a single kiss. “Are you sure?” 

The concern in his tone sends a rush straight through your skull. What kind of algorithm allows for an Automaton to express that kind of emotion on its own accord? Are the other idols that escaped with him the same way? You find out that you don’t really know the answers to these questions right now—nor do you want to know.

What you want is for him to be so deep inside you, you’ll feel him for days.

You yank him down for another kiss all while you desperately rid yourself of your once-comfortable and now-stifling clothes. They come off one by one until they’re but a heap on the floor and Soonyoung has the gall to chuckle at your impatience.

“If you wanted me this much, you should’ve just told me sooner,” he whispers, peppering your face with featherlight kisses. “I think I’ve had enough practice to be a good enough lover for you.”

“Mention that so-called practice again and I’ll deactivate your nervous system,” you growl and Soonyoung responds by trailing his mouth across your neck—suckling at the skin above your pulse with a conniving grin. 

Just like any other humanoid Level 1, Soonyoung is soft in all places humans should be. His lips, his skin—everything. While the physics that surrounded an Automaton’s male genitalia are out of your scope of expertise, it’s infinitesimally interesting to know that their cocks work the exact same way as a human’s. Even if there’s no blood coursing through his non-existent veins, Soonyoung still gets hard with just the right stimulus. 

That stimulus being the swell of your breasts because he hasn’t parted from them since he started suckling on the sensitive flesh five minutes ago.

“Soonie,” you whimper, grinding your sopping core against his thigh. “More. Give me more.”

He laughs—a breathless little sound before his gaze flickers up to you so lovingly, it almost hurts. “I thought I was the impatient one between the two of us.”

“Just shut up and fuck me, please.” 

The raw desire in your plea makes the smile disappear from his face. When Soonyoung presses his forehead against yours, his gaze sears into your own so intensely, you’ll still be able to see him with your eyes closed.

“I never thought I’d ever get to hear you beg for me,” he admits, adjusting himself on the couch for your comfort. “I want to hear it again.”

Your Automaton lover doesn’t give you any forewarning that he’ll be pushing the head of his cock inside you. You’re simply greeted by the welcome intrusion of him parting your slick walls—little to no preparation needed because of how much you’re dripping onto the cushions. Soonyoung hisses between his teeth, a ravenous look that you’ve never seen sitting on his face, which has you clamping down deliciously against his length.

“Do you feel it?” he murmurs, sinking inch by fucking inch into you. “Do you feel me inside you?”

You feel him everywhere. All of your senses are overloaded with him, him, him. Right now, he isn’t Hoshi from 53V3NT33N or Hoshi, the rising star of the red light district.

He’s Soonyoung. Your precious, irreplaceable Soonyoung.

“Yes,” you moan out loud, fucking your hips back onto his to generate the friction you so direly needed. “Deeper, Soonyoung. Want you deeper.”

And he gives you just that. 

Soonyoung pistons his hips with practiced ease, not a single pant to be heard from him as his cock plunges in and out of your wet heat. You pull him into your embrace like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you don’t hold onto him tightly enough and your lover quickly picks up on the message—wrapping his strong arms around you as he mercilessly pounds you into the sofa.

Every word you know eludes you as the mind-numbing pleasure frazzles your brain. You can’t even articulate how good it feels to have him ram into you like he wants to leave his mark inside your body forever. You’ve never had sex this toe-curling, and it’s a little pitiful to make that discovery when the one who’s fucking you to an inch of your life isn’t even human.

But that’s what makes it feel right in the midst of its wrongness. 

When you come apart on his cock the first time, it makes you wonder if that’s what it feels like to fall from grace. The creeping high leading up to your release as you free-fall into oblivion should’ve been daunting, but all that sings in your veins is pure ecstasy as Soonyoung fucks you through your orgasm. 

He leans down to capture your lips, devouring your mouth in a way that only means he’s staking his claim. It’s a kiss that bruises—a kiss that persists. And you barely hear yourself scream his name into his mouth when you finally come down from bliss.

Just when you thought you could finally let yourself breathe, Soonyoung gently turns you around on the couch—forcing your back into an arch as he props you up by the knees. Still disoriented from your last orgasm, you don’t immediately process what he’s trying to do until you feel the hardness of his cock nudging against the ridge of your ass.

That’s when you remember that Automatons do not get tired. 

Fuck.

“You better be ready for me,” Soonyoung chuckles into your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“If you want me, you’re getting all of me.”

In the aftermath, you let yourself look at Soonyoung even with your eyes streaked with tears. He’s smiling at you like you’re the most precious thing in all the galaxies combined and you’re too fucked out to not melt into his embrace when he engulfs you in the heat of his arms.

You love him, you think. 

Loving a machine that shouldn’t be capable of love is contradictory in every sense of the word. He’s a complete softie whenever he hangs out with you, but would pass as a predator when he’s with his clients. He’s a bot that loves to dance, but would give that up in a heartbeat if others needed him for another purpose. 

Then again the lines have started to blur considerably since Soonyoung started fucking you into incoherence. Pain and pleasure, human and not human, love and lust—

“I love you,” you murmur, only half conscious as Soonyoung carries you to your bed. “Soonyoung, I love you…”

A soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest as he tucks you in—replacing the warmth of his body with the comfort of your blanket. You frown at the sudden change, but he’s tired you out too much for you to hold up any sort of protest. 

As he stands before the doorway, you manage to wrench your eyes open just a tad—enough to see the ray of sunshine standing before you with a loving look on his face. He even does that little pose with his fingers clenched like a tiger’s claws—the one he did when he opened his eyes after you managed to fix him the first time.

Horanghae… That’s what he called it, right?

You’re too exhausted to notice the pained undertones that lurk beneath Soonyoung’s smile, but perhaps it’s something that you can deal with once morning comes. 

If he’s still there at all.

“That took you a while.”

Jisung’s voice is clipped when Soonyoung emerges from your house with an indifferent look on his face. Standing right behind him are a bunch of familiar faces—namely 53V3NT33N’s main manager along with a handful of guards that used to keep them tightly locked up back in their main facility on Earth.

He never thought he’d have to see them again.

“If I’m leaving this place for good, I’m not going to go without giving her something to remember me by,” Soonyoung grumbles, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats as he rejoins his former colleagues. “Is it true? You’ll give Jisung enough money for his brother’s transplant if I come back?”

His manager nods once. “Positive. The reward money will be doubled since you returned without resistance. But I cannot guarantee the degree of the punishment you’ll be facing because of your escape.” 

Right. Of course there’ll be consequences for his own actions. But Soonyoung is just glad that he got to have you at least once in his robotic life before he has to turn himself back in.

“Jisung,” Soonyoung—no, Hoshi calls out. “Can you promise to take care of her? If you don’t, I’ll personally fly back here to kill you with my own two hands.”

“Hoshi,” one of the guards grunts behind him, shoving his back with a warning glare. “No violence. Even minor threats like that will make your sentence even heavier.”

He doesn’t care. Not really.

“Just give the man his money and let’s go,” he grumbles, forcing himself to turn away from the direction of your house before his code malfunctions and he ends up bolting back inside. 

His manager nods before one of the assistants presents Jisung with a suitcase full of enough wads of cash to fund his brother’s surgery and more. There’s a look on your neighbor’s face that Hoshi can only identify as regret, but there’s really no use for that now.

Even if Jisung didn’t need the money from turning over a rogue Automaton, Hoshi still would’ve surrendered eventually. When word got around that his hunters had finally tracked him down to Salax, he already knew his days were numbered. 

But despite knowing all that, it doesn't stop him from wishing he had more time.

When daylight comes and the sun lights up the darkness of your room, you squint at how bright it shines even through the curtains. You’re sore all over and it only takes a single glance at your body to realize that maybe having multiple rounds of sex with a tireless Automaton wasn’t one of the best choices you’ve made in your life. 

That, and you’re going to have to give Soonyoung a very long lecture about the physiological differences between his body and yours. And that leaving without waking you up is a major foul when it comes to sleeping with someone you care about.

Right after freshening up and soothing every bit of tender flesh, you go about your day like usual—doing chores, checking if Jisung is home (he’s not), and holing yourself up in your lab to work on a few projects you’ve been procrastinating long enough. 

But just when you’re about to bust open your toolbox, you notice a familiar gadget sitting on top of your work table. The same work table that you could’ve sworn you made sure to clear out the previous evening.

It’s another portable hologram projector—one that looks exactly like the old artifact you managed to revive thanks to Soonyoung’s intervention. This one looks less shabby than the one Jisung gave you back then, and you realize that there’s a note stuck to the bottom.

The switch is right beneath the motherboard. Don’t forget! - S

Huh. That guy had the time to put together a hologram for you, but he couldn’t be bothered to wake you up before he left? The nerve of some Automatons, really…

None the wiser about your newfound lover’s actual whereabouts, you followed the instructions Soonyoung whispered into your ear several months ago before letting it play.

⟢ end notes: yay you're at the end of it! thank you so much for reading <3 thank you so so much to bee for being big-brained enough to put this collab together. i've always wanted to 1.) write a sci-fi fic and 2.) write more for soonyoung so this opportunity was a good avenue for both <3 i'm just bummed bc i procrastinated this for too long and kind of ended up with a subpar fic, but !! i still kinda enjoyed building the world around soonyoung and yn and their friends :') in another life, i would've fleshed this out properly, but for now, i'll leave you all with this! do check out the other fics in the collab bc it will definitely expand on this massive universe that we all worked hard to put together <3

this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!

♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡

I am not lying

soobin x reader

synopsis: Years of unrequited love and this is the moment it all ends, one way or another... you refuse to have it any other way.

word count: 2.6k

genre/contains: friends to lovers, angsty yn, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, kissing, feelings, shouting, New Year’s party setting

a/n: So, this is partially a continuation of the first ever fic I wrote and so I thought it fitting to end the year by posting this. Hopefully, my writing has evolved into something at least a bit better than half a year ago!! And happy New Years!

txt masterlist part one - I am not hiking

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

Once more the holiday season came and went. Yet another year went by in the blink of an eye. And somehow you were still right where you had started the year, actually every year since you had met Soobin if you were being honest. 

Tragic. That’s what you were, that’s what you felt, that’s what it was, you realized. 

It was tragic, and not the tragically beautiful that so many moving romances have been throughout history, just a sad kind of tragic. The type where you look at the person and shake your head at how pathetic they look, still pining after the person they love after years of having it be unrequited. 

You were sitting alone, occupying a corner away from the people chatting away in the rest of the house and enjoying the New Year’s Eve party you were attending. It was snowing outside and you were watching the ice rainfall in the light of the streetlights through the window facing the street outside, your eyes following as the tragic little flakes descended to the dark ground. 

“Life’s rough, I know little snowflakes,” you cried out in a whiny tone towards the dark window. 

Currently, you were also downing your fifth (or maybe eighth) drink for the evening and you were finally beginning to forget some of your troubles. This usually wasn’t something you did, but this New Year’s eve you needed it so as to not betray yourself. This year things would change. No more pining over him, not another year of getting your hopes up only to have that hope crushed over and over again. You were done, and you needed to have something to hold your hand as you entered this new year with enough force to actually manage to do what you were promising yourself. 

You would get over him, even if it meant being completely wasted as the fireworks went off and having Yeonjun drag you home to get you into bed without becoming a popsicle in the snow somewhere. 

At least he would be there for you when you were crying over something that never even was. You had never actually told him about how you felt for your friend, but he knew. Somehow he’d always known and you didn’t know if it was better or worse that he had seen you pine after the man without getting anything in return for years. Everything about this whole thing was just so embarrassing, you thought as you remembered every instance where you had made a complete fool of yourself only to be heartbroken time and time again. 

You were in the middle of wallowing, sipping on your drink, tears threatening to well out of your eyes as you let the snow hypnotize you while pitying yourself when you felt a soft bump hit your knee. 

Who is disturbing my pity party? was what went through your mind as you tried to pull back the tears in the corner of your eyes and prepared yourself to try and have a somewhat normal interaction with whoever was trying to reach through your gloomy mood. 

Of course, when you looked up you saw the one person you had wished to the heavens wouldn’t come to find you tonight. Couldn’t he have just bothered someone else with his beautiful fucking face and sweet conversations? 

It’s so unfair! you thought as you looked at him maneuver around you. How am I supposed to get over you tonight when you come here looking like that with your fucking hair pushed back too!! My weakness!!! 

You wanted to scream, shout, cry, and throw the biggest tantrum ever seen by presumably anyone in the room. 

“What’s up, why are you staring at the snow?” Soobin asked as he sat down next to you in your corner of sadness and solitude. 

“I’m just staring at it falling to the ground, dying over and over again, freezing and falling and blowing through the dark night.” you sighed, melancholia filling your entire being. 

It was nonsense, but you didn’t even care, your voice was already telling him just how drunk you were and the words and the way you moved your entire body like a marionette puppet trying to control its limbs only told him that it was time to call in the boys and intervene before you passed out. He looked over, searching the room for someone to wave over, but when his gaze landed back on your sullen face his expression softened and he simply sighed. 

“Just how much have you had to drink tonight?” he questioned, his gaze soft and understanding as he watched you try and remember what drink you were on. But it was only making you feel suffocated. You didn’t want him to be there right now, not when you were feeling just as hopeless as the snow that landed on the wet ground and dissolved into nothing in the blink of an eye. 

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” you muttered, shocking Soobin who flinched at your hard tone and your harsh words. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t know how to respond either, so he just looked at you, meeting your hardened gaze. 

“Are you okay? Did something.. did anything happen?” he finally managed to say while he searched your face for any answers as to why you were acting like you were. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his question, “Did something happen? Well no, I guess nothing happened, nothing at all, for years. Nothing.”

Soobin’s brows knitted together, more confused now than before. Meanwhile, you were beginning to face reality, a sort of drunken clarity filling you and making you see what you had been avoiding all this time. Maybe it’s time to just get it out and over with, maybe that will make it go away, you thought as you drew in a deep breath. 

“I liked you,” you said, plain and clear, making Soobin’s confused expression drop from his face in a second.

You chuckled like someone who has absolutely nothing left to lose in life before you began speaking again, Soobins full attention on you, needing more from you. An explanation, an apology, a laugh telling him it was all a cruel joke, literally anything. His eyes were panicked and pleading for you to say something.  

“I have loved you for years and this is the year where it stops, no more pining after you,” you began and looked straight at him, the liquid courage apparently working even better than you had expected. “No more of me looking at you not seeing me loving you, and absolutely no more of these fucking butterflies that I feel anytime I think something might change. Because of course they never will! They were never going to! I was just too fucking delusional and in love with you to realize that I never had a chance in hell!” you rambled, slurring your words every so often and revealing just how much you had been drinking for you to be outing your feelings like this. 

Soobin was staring at you, his jaw on the floor and eyes wide and unresponsive, he was in complete shock over your sudden announcement and his mind was running at a thousand miles per hour. 

Now you sat there in silence. Waiting for what felt like hours. 

“What the fuck do you mean?!” he finally exclaimed, snapping you out of your own head, making you realize what you had actually just confessed and it wasn’t something you had imagined, but it didn’t even matter. It was honestly better that he knew since you would most likely be in one hell of a state for the coming weeks while you tried to keep this New Year’s promise of yours. 

“I have loved you for literal years, what do you mean you love me too?!” he finally continued, his words sinking in slowly and shaking you to the core as you understood what he was telling you. You rose from your slouching position in shock. 

“YOU have loved ME for years? I have loved YOU for years!” you shouted, making a couple of heads turn your way, luckily the music was at a volume where it was impossible to hear too much of anyone’s conversations, even if they were being shouted. Hence, the heads soon turned back around without a second thought as to why you two were loosing your minds in the corner of the bustling party. 

But then a thought hit you, he was playing with you. You didn’t know why, but you were absolutely convinced and your critical thinking skills were currently on vacation and there was nobody but the man in front of you there to argue against the whispers in your head telling you that he was lying to you. Trying to trick you because there’s no way he could’ve loved you back this entire time. 

“You’re lying, that’s not possible. You never said anything, you never even did anything when I was giving you all the signs to do something, anything at all! So no, I don’t believe you.”

He scoffed, “I am not lying. How could you think I would lie about something like this to you?”

“So why? Why did you never do anything? Why did you never tell me?” you questioned him, your entire demeanor rather aggressive and accusing. 

“What about you? You never did or said anything either,” he retorted, his own tone much less accusing and more giving you a sense of exhaustion. 

“I didn’t want to ruin our whole friendship, and you literally said last year that you could never date a friend! So I just assumed that you weren’t lying back then either, but maybe you just lie all the time, good to know,” you said in one long breath and pursed your lips when you were done. 

Your tone was incredibly salty, and the words almost felt like they were stinging your mouth as you accused him without restraint. You were getting increasingly pissed off at the whole situation, the alcohol in your blood not precisely helping you to rein in your emotions. 

“What? I- Oh.”

You looked away from him, not able to keep eye contact with him as he realized what you were talking about, life slowly draining from his face as he understood what you had been thinking this entire time. 

“I didn’t mean that. I mean I tried to mean it, at the time I was really trying to get over you since you literally never seemed to show any interest in me. But I didn’t… mean it.”

“You tried to get over me at the time? Then what? Did you just go an entire year after we almost kissed, knowing I was interested in you and you just never said anything at all?” 

“No, I- I tried so many times, but…”

“But? But what?”

“But every time I just chickened out just as I was about to say something, because maybe I was wrong about what happened last New Year’s, and maybe I was imagining the looks and maybe you didn’t actually feel anything for me after all…”

“That day, this summer, when we were supposed to be hiking… You- did you know? Did you know how much I wanted you to tell me, to give me a sign that I wasn’t imagining the closeness, the intimacy?” you said with an exasperated and genuinely confounded expression. 

“I didn’t think you felt it, but I- I wanted to say something but then it just wasn’t the moment. And afterward, you just ignored me for so long, I thought maybe you had felt uncomfortable and that you were avoiding me.” 

You couldn’t ignore just how sad he looked as he confessed what he had been going through alongside you all this time. The rage suddenly just lifted off of you, maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was the realization that something was changing between you, but the rage you had felt was now just gone. 

“I was mad at you for playing with my feelings, but I convinced myself you were just unaware of it, but I was still mad for some reason. I was never uncomfortable though, just… wanting.”

“Wanting,” he scoffed, “yeah, I know that feeling, It always feels like nothing you do matters because you will always just feel unsatisfied, never getting what you actually need.”

You chuckled, fuck, you had really been going through the same shit this entire time, neither of you brave enough to risk anything, neither of you brave enough to just fucking do something about it. 

When you looked at his nervous expression, his hands clinging onto the glass in his hand and his eyes searching yours for a clue as to what you were thinking. 

“So you… you love me?” you asked, a small smile playing at the corner of your mouth along with a glimmer in your eye as the melancholy and sadness left your mind, being replaced with something much more hopeful. 

He laughed at your sudden shift in tone and expression, “I fucking love you, and I’m an idiot for not telling you sooner. I swear, if I had just done shit differently we wouldn’t have been going through all this, and we could’ve…” 

His sentence was left unfinished as he stared back at you, the smile on your face growing bigger by the second.

“Yeah, we could’ve…” you continued.

“And what if I still…?” he asked

“What if I still do too?” 

“We could…”

His smile was now matching yours, hope filling his expression just like yours. 

“We…” 

But you never finished your sentence, you never had the intention of trying, because you were now leaned over the cushions in between you, pressing your lips to his. Just before your lips met you looked into his eyes, and within you saw a flash of something indescribable before you felt his lips on yours; soft and plump and so incredibly perfect. 

You continued kissing, his lips moving in perfect harmony with yours, your tongues sloppily caressing each other’s, and hands moving across your body in an intoxicating movement. 

Time seemed to have stopped, but it simultaneously felt as if it was running away from you. All that wasted time of you two loving one another, separately, all that time was accumulating in this very moment. 

You could loosely register a couple of “Oh my gods!” from where you had last spotted your friends along with a “Finally,” from Yeonjun. You were going to kick all of their asses… at some point… because right now, you were busy and there was no way you would let go of these lips anytime soon. 

Time had been lost long ago when a sudden bang caught both of your attention. The fireworks had begun going off, the entire room was yelling out numbers in a countdown, the New Year was approaching and there you were, placed atop Soobin. You looked out at the fireworks filling the sky. What had once been this horrid and drab view where you sat and wallowed just a while ago, was now filled with sparks and shining colors covering everything within your view.  

Both of you looked equally as surprised as to where the time had gone, but his puffy lips, tinted red from the kisses you had bestowed on them, made you smile widely. Your face lit up and his followed suit soon after, both of you smiling as you pressed a small kiss to his lips before placing your head against his. 

“Happy new year…” you said and even though the rest of the room was screaming at the top of their lungs he answered you back even though there was no way either of you could’ve heard what the other was saying. You felt content knowing things were indeed changing this year, in unexpected ways, but changing nevertheless. 

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

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