1 - 20 of 69 Works by Syster
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Yeosang likes a guy who comes to his café. Or, well, it’s not his café—it’s just the one he works at—but he’s the one who picks up the most shifts and the one the owner trusts the most, so it sometimes feels like his. And, not to brag or anything, but he’s the best barista among the workers there, which he already knew, but was recently confirmed by the aforementioned guy that Yeosang likes. His name is Mingi, which Yeosang knows not because they’ve actually talked or introduced themselves, but because Mingi gives his name every time he orders his coffee to-go (which he does every time, almost every day, since he’s even there on the days Yeosang isn’t), as though Yeosang might somehow have forgotten it.
or: yeosang is a bit stuck in the day to day life of being 25 years old and not really knowing what you're doing with your life. combine that with a best friend that's moving on without you, and a crush on a regular customer, and you've got a situation where nothing will really change - unless you do something about it.
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Mingi rubs his fingertips against the bare skin of his belly, right over the waistband of his sweats. His body is aching, his biology absolutely bursting to provide him with the tools to calm the pack down, to keep them warm, fucked and fed. The lactation thing is new, usually the last thing to settle in an experienced Beta, and, fuck, Mingi doesn’t feel like an experienced Beta even if his body seems to think that he is. So he’s unused to it, unused to the feeling, and if he could talk to his body he would ask it to calm down. Yunho doesn’t want the milk anyway, having shied away every time any of the others (usually Wooyoung, or Seonghwa) hike Mingi’s shirt up to take a nipple into their mouth.
With a sigh, Mingi settles a foot on the duvet to hike himself further up against Yunho’s bedframe. When he’s done, he stretches up, cracks his neck, whines when the swell of his tits reminds him of its existence. He rubs a hand over his left tit, grimacing in pain as the swollen flesh dips underneath his touch.
or: mingi is not a very good beta but he's positively overflowing with milk after they start discussing the dreaded renewal of their contracts. yunho decides to help out.
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“We need to fuck,” Yunho says, eloquently, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth once he gets the last word out.
Mingi just stares at him, his lips pursing, and Yunho continues before Mingi can say no, or worse, say yes.
“Because of my dick,” he motions towards his crotch and, then, realizing what it sounds like, clarifies, “My talking dick. It’s, uh, a metaphor, or something.”
“For us fucking?” Mingi says, brow furrowing.
or: in a world full of magic, yunho wakes up one morning with a talking dick. he has to go on a quest to figure out how to make it stop before it ruins his career, or worse, his friendship with mingi.
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The thing is... Mingi was always cute. Yunho’s been very open about it, whenever someone’s asked (that someone is mostly Mingi, honestly). Mingi was cute before he presented, and he was even cuter when he walked out of the scent-sealed season-chamber fiddling with his orange-red hair. Yunho can deal with cute. He knows what to do with Mingi being cute.
Yunho does not know what to do about Mingi who has broad shoulders and a tiny waist, who has thick thighs and an ass that honest to God jiggles when he moves with the force of his dancing, and Yunho especially doesn’t know what to do with a Mingi that’s so fucking aware of how hot he is.
or: yunho is pushed into a mortifying flash heat by stupid, sexy mingi. it's probably just lust (it's not just lust).
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Yunho curls his toes into the carpet, rubbing his hands on his thighs over the gray, loose sweatpants. He shakes his head and tries not to look at the closed door leading to the bathroom. He looks up through his freshly washed bangs, absentmindedly following the glint from where the warm light of the room's only lit light source reveals the frayed edges of his bleached hair. He tries to remind himself that he is patient, and when his antsy shiver of anticipation eats that thought up, he considers powering on his phone again to send Mingi a snide message about how his knees are starting to hurt, since Mingi couldn’t even deign to give him a pillow to kneel on.
or: yunho and mingi has a special night planned, but yunho's patience is seemingly no match for song mingi in a suit.
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His mother, who was prudent and pragmatic, had looked worried when he spoke about it, gently taking his hands and speaking of how the bond might feel real but surely isn’t, a remnant of a past they are only burdened with in order to remind them of their sins. Yunho had tried paying her heed, because he is a good son, and he’s a good heir, firm in his conviction and resolution to take on the responsibility of ruling their estate in the future. But the more time passed, the harder it became to ignore.
"Is it such an odd thing," Yunho had told his father, when he’d gone to ask permission to leave for the city, steady-voiced and straight-backed, "that the bond I look to save is not the one born from sin, but the one that I have cherished since I was a child?"
Or: when yunho went into rut fever, his best friend mingi was there to save him and bring him back from the brink, disappearing after the deed was done. can yunho figure out what happened that night all those months ago, and more specifically, can he salvage his and mingi's friendship?
Or: yunho gets horny and has a crisis of faith because of it.
Series
- Part 2 of how could i fear any hurricane?
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“Is Yunho hurt?” Mingi asks, after a moment, when the silence has grown as thick as the darkening skies.
“Of a sort,” Wooyoung answers, quieting again, before shaking his head, seemingly frustrated with his own trepidation, squaring his jaw and raising his gaze to meet Mingi’s, “He’s gone feral.”
Or: yunho, the eldest son of the esteemed Jeong family goes into rut fever. in a society that tries to hide and forget their baser parts, all hope seems lost for yunho to get out of it with his sanity intact. enter mingi, stage left.
Or: the beast and the (almost) priest.
Series
- Part 1 of how could i fear any hurricane?
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When Mingi sees Yunho, he grins the kind of smile that he never can give on stage because it always makes the illusion of his thin waist and broad shoulders tip into decidedly boyish, no matter how much rouge he wears over his high-cheekbones, or how good his legs look in heels so high that they would make most seasoned drag queens balk.
“You got them all warmed up for me, Yuyu-ya?” Mingi says around a burst of giggling laughter that seems to dance out between his blood-red lips, “Or did you stop in the middle of the performance when someone gave you a mere cheon to explain why your dancing is so technically impressive and objectively deserves more?”
or: mingi and yunho are drag queens with complicated feelings for each other. thank god the sex is good, at least.
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Mingi is usually respectful of Yunho’s ‘never-nude’ thing in contrast to someone like Wooyoung or San who takes it as a challenge. This means that Mingi, at most times, wears clothes. This is why, when Yunho comes home from studying for his exams (but if he’s honest, spending most of it staring into his girlfriend’s eyes), he is pretty shocked to find Mingi more or less naked in front of their shared mirror. Holding a black, short skirt in front of his waist.
Yunho stops, and blinks. Mingi looks up and gives a nonchalant nod in Yunho’s general direction.
“Yo, bro.” or:
three times yunho walked in on mingi wearing girl’s clothes and one time he did something about it
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It takes a while for Jackson's eyesight to focus when he’s not wearing his glasses, but he still knows who it is just from the way the slightly fuzzy shapes hold themselves. Rich people have an air about them, and Park Jinyoung and Choi Youngjae are no different. Heirs to equally fundamental conglomerates, the two have always moved as though they own the spaces they occupy, which pretty much has a 50/50 chance of being true.
The gap between them hadn’t seemed so big when they were in school together, Jackson making up for his scholarship status by being great at sports and even more gregarious, but now it seems almost insurmountable. It takes a moment for Jackson to find his smile, and he hopes they don’t notice that.
or; Jackson needs money, and 2young offers him a solution by asking him to step into a game he doesn't fully understand.
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jackson's wearing a corset and the boys appreciate it, each in their own way.
or; syster has a horny aneurysm about jackson in a corset.
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Seonghwa probably can’t afford a car. It’s been three years since he dropped out of med school, Hongjoong coming to their shared apartment to packed bags and Seonghwa’s false cheer about failing his academic probation. Seonghwa hadn’t been able to pick up the shattered pieces of his burnout to get through another term, and he was giving up, as though that had always been an option. Seonghwa’s hands had been clasped together so tightly that Hongjoong had known they would be shaking had they been resting by his sides.
Weak, Hongjoong then and now thinks, sneering as he sees the person he thought was his best friend run away from a future they had promised to find together.
or: hongjoong keeps an eye on an estranged old friend, in a totally straight way.
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A short story collection for requests and shorter work.
Read each chapter summary for details.
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He tilts his glass of beer, watching the rapidly disappearing foam cling to the sides of the glass, splitting over the surface into odd shapes. The others are talking, and Mark is listening, the way it usually is. The thought is without value, neither good nor bad, just Mark fitting into a place he feels comfortable in but isn’t sure he should. Alcohol hits that way for him sometimes, making him contemplative. Which, you know, is hard to be, when the others so clearly aren’t.
This is probably why, when the joke comes, it hits Mark wrong.
or: mark is feeling petty and jinyoung wants to talk to him about vocalizing his feelings, or at least something like it.
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This time, the dance of Jaebeom’s gaze over him is less subtle, and Mark cocks a hip, resting one of his hands in one of his belt loops as Jaebeom swallows, gaze flickering up to meet his eyes, “Yeah, uh, yeah I... Yeah, you do.”
“Thanks,” Mark hums and takes another step forward, putting one hand on Jaebeom’s hip to pull him closer, ghosting a hand up to rest it on Jaebeom’s waist, “Since you’re hot and I’m hot, how about a fuck?”
or; mark is pettily trying to get over his ex and when jaebeom, hot and notorious for one-night-stands, walks through the door he thinks he found the perfect casual fling. what happens when it turns out he might've bitten off more than he can chew?
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“We fucked once!” Bambam shrieks, only dimly aware of the fact the way his voice is cracking, the way it always does when he gets into the higher registers. The second thought, smaller but nonetheless just as present, is that Yugyeom usually finds that hilarious.
He does not, however, seem to find it funny this time around. Instead, Yugyeom is pale, his dark eyes tracking the movement of the pregnancy test in Bambam’s waving hands.
Or: bambam and his estranged (?) soulmate have to deal with the consequences of their actions. the rest of the boys are there to help.
ON INDEFINITE HIATUS
Series
- Part 3 of expecting the unexpected
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The thing that brings him out of his melancholy reverie, rereading a briefing his staff has put together for the second time, is the sudden incessant buzzing of his phone. He sighs, a smile playing on his lips seemingly involuntarily, and he picks his phone up, unlocking it with a swipe of his thumb.
The sight of Jackson’s name brings with it its regular flush of emotions which are neither easy to decipher nor Jinyoung is particularly eager to deal with.
or: Jinyoung has a bad day, Jackson offers to help by offering himself.
Series
- Part 2 of you're my miracle
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“I really don’t want to be part of this,” Jaebeom says when Jinyoung releases him, dusting himself off as he looks up to gaze at the two other men. One of which is Jinyoung, who is looking prim and proper in a high-collared academic suit, cut in the latest fashion from Shanghai with a workers collar and the other which is Jackson who is, well. wearing a dress.
or: Jaebeom walks into his good friends Jinyoung and Jackson settling a bet. He gets swept up in the consequences.
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Sungmi walks in through the door, toeing of her ratty sneakers with idol names and hearts written all over them and puts the groceries on the kitchen counter before picking up her phone, quickly tapping away.
“Dinner in an hour, Sungmi,” Jinyoung says while groaning as he bends down to pick up the magazines right inside of the door, looking them through as he places his bags on the counter as well.
or; jinyoung's a single dad with a teenage daughter. life really seems to be stuck in a bit of a rut, but then he meets his neighbour, jackson.
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“Bad day?” Jinyoung murmurs, underneath his breath.
“No,” Jaebeom says, yawning and shifting slightly underneath Bam’s sprawling weight, “We’re at the tail-end of it, so he’s been pretty mellow.”
“Mellow?” Jinyoung smiles, “Jackson? Really?”
“Comparatively,” Jaebeom acquiesces easily, shrugging as well as he can considering he’s pretty trapped.
or: jinyoung comes home from a long day of work to celebrate his favourite holiday by eating out.
Series
- Part 6 of No Drug Like Me