#dude....have you seen the pipes in his head

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

I'm Commander Shepard and Saren Arterius is my LEAST favorite Spectre on the Citadel!

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[fum1ku]

LOVE TROPES - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, daichi sawamura, kei tsukishima, keishin ukai, atsumu miya

should i be working on the highly requested pt. 2 to my recent works that’s currently sitting in my drafts? yes. should i also probably be working on the few requests i’ve got in my inbox? also yes. am i still over here writing whatever this is instead of doing those things? absolutely. at least i’m writing something!

OSAMU: friends to lovers.

you had been friends with the miya twins since high school. you had always butt heads with atsumu; bickering back and forth about anything and everything. but it was different with osamu. it felt like you both understood each other, in a way. plus the mutual dislike you both had for atsumu definitely helped. and now, nearly 8 years later, your friendship was still going strong.

well past 8pm, you stood over the front counter at onigiri miya with samu cleaning behind the counter for closing, and atsumu sitting at a stool next to you.

“i don’t know what his problem is! we go out for drinks one night, wind up at his place, and then the next day he can’t even be bothered to send me a single fucking text. seriously. i’m done!” you were going on about your.. most recent boyfriend.

“why don’tcha just dump him then?” atsumu offered, his mouth full of the onigiri osamu had made for him.

“atsumu, you’re disgusting! and i can’t because we aren’t even a thing! which is good—i don’t want us to be.”

osamu laughed at you two from behind the counter.

“okay well then what’s the problem! i don’t understand you women,” atsumu exclaimed, licking off the last bits of onigiri form his fingertips and shoving his plate behind the counter. “i’ve got practice tomorrow. so i’m gone. some of us actually have real problems that aren’t centered around one night stands with guys!”

“oh right, atsumu, like your sex life is any better,” you muttered. the door slammed shut behind him as the bell above the door exhibierst through the building.

you sighed, sinking further into your chair.

“here,” osamu slid a plate towards you. “might make ‘ya feel better. plus i need feedback to see if it’s worth addin’ to the menu.”

you smiled. “thanks, osamu. and yeah, i’ll give good feedback, promise!”

osamu smiled to himself as he wiped down the back counter. yeah, sure, after 8 years of pining he was no closer to asking you out. but, no matter what, he’d always be here to make you food whenever another boy made you cry.

DAICHI: love at first sight.

it had been a long practice and daichi had decided to treat everyone to a snack down at sakanoshita. daichi stood with suga and asahi waiting for the 1st and 2nd years to finish grabbing their fill. tanaka and noya had seen daichi paying as an opportunity to grab whatever they wanted.

“c’mon you guys!” suga yelled from across the store. “we don’t have all day!”

it has been a long day of classes for you, so it wasn’t even an option in your mind whether you should stop at the convenience store or not. only now you had found yourself in your own little debate.

“milk tea.. or coffee?” you mumbled to yourself. you were bent down over the drinks section taking your sweet time.

daichi turned around to see you and knew he was gone right then and there.

suga scoffed at the two 2nd years taking their time, only to turn back and find daichi’s gaze focused on you.

“hey, daichi, maybe we should—” he started, but stopped as soon as he noticed daichi staring. he whispered to asahi and they both began berating their poor captain.

“c’mon, dude! why don’t you just go talk to them? we obviously have the time!” suga nudged at his arm.

daichi denied anything. “hey, i don’t even now what you’re talking about, suga! we’re here for snack for the team, just go focus on that.”

“hey, don’t we go to school with them? y/n l/n. class 2, i think,” asahi piped up. he couldn’t remember where exactly he knew you from, though.

daichi was sure if he had gone to school with you, he’d remember.

“they’re in photography club! that’s how i know them! they asked me to join after i dropped out of volleyball,” asahi recalled, loud enough to grab your attention.

you looked up to find the set of 3rd years staring in your direction. your drink in hand, you made your way up to them.

“azumane, right? nice to see you again!” you beamed.

“y-yeah, right! good to see you too, l/n,” he smiled, nervously.

“are you guys in line?” you questioned.

“no—no we’re not! sorry about that!” daichi apologized, moving to the side to allow you to get to the register.

you placed your drink on the counter, making small talk with the guy at the front register.

“c’mon, daichi! if you don’t ask them before they leave you might not get to again!” suga whispered.

“suga, let it go. it’s too strange—they don’t even know me.”

suga shoved daichi forward just as you turned around to make your way towards the door.

“oh! hi!” you mused.

“s-sorry. hi.. again.”

“sawamura, right? you’re the captains of the volleyball team!” you smiled.

“yeah, i am. and you’re l/n, right? asahi was telling me about you. you’re in photography.

“i am, actually! and please, just call me y/n!”

“then just call me daichi!”

first name basis after 10 minutes? way to go daichi!

“actually..” you started. “i was wondering if it’d be possible for me to take some action shots of the volleyball team? i was going to use them for an upcoming project of mine. of course if not, that’s okay too! you probably need to talk it over with the team.”

“yeah—absolutely! i’ll have to talk it over with everyone, but i don’t see it being a problem at all,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “what class are you in? i can talk to you some time next week to figure out what day would work best.”

“here,” you said, turning around to the man behind the counter. “excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

the man tossed you a pen, not giving a second look to you from behind his magazine. you pulled out daichi’s arm and started scribbling down numbers.

your.. phone number?

“now you can call me, that’ll be easier!” you smiled. “anyways, i gotta run. see you later, daichi. tell azumane i said bye too!”

he was speechless. did he really manage to get your number without even trying?

suga ran up behind him. “dude! how? you hardly said anything to them!”

“wow, daichi’s got skills with the ladies!” tanaka mused, noya trailing behind them. their arms were stacked full with all kinds of snacks.

he was definitely not paying for all of those.

KEI: academic rivals to lovers.

you worked at the library at the university you attended. tsukishima had seen you around campus a few times. yamaguchi would go as far as to describe you as tsukishima’s “campus crush”—which tsukki of course denied. he hardly even knew you.

but, this semester is when things finally got interesting. you had wound up taking the course tsukishima was the TA for.

you were currently bent down behind a bookshelf in the campus library, organizing the books that needed to be put away. you noticed a hand grab a book off your cart.

you stood up. “anything you need help finding?”

“no,” the man stated, blankly.

you examined the book in his hand. “wait. are you in psych 301? haven’t seen you in there before.”

“kei tsukishima. i’m the assistant in that class this semester.”

“oh! i’m y/n l/n. are you reading that book for fun then, or?”

“i know. i graded your last essay. something about the human consciousness or whatever,” he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

your face went hot. “oh? so you were the one that gave me a B- on that. that was the best paper i’ve written all semester!”

“yeah, only because you can’t write any better ones. and maybe actually read the syllabus before you join the class,” he deadpanned.

“okay, mr. know-it-all. and for what it’s worth, i did in fact read the syllabus.”

“well if you actually paid attention, then you’d know this book was meant to be read alongside the other materials.”

wait. what?

before you could say another word, he placed the book back down in the cart. “my email is on the syllabus if you’d actually care to read it. good luck actually passing the class.”

you were so going to find that syllabus. and you were definitely doing to pass that class.

KEISHIN: second chance.

stepping foot into sakanoshita after years felt like a dream. but seeing keishin, your high school boyfriend, sitting there behind the counter, was what really sent you back.

“keishin?”

ukai actually took the time to look up form his magazine, and he was glad he did. “y/n?”

“keishin!” you smiled. “i didn’t realize you family still owned the place!”

he stood up form his seat behind the counter. “yeah! work here part-time, coach volleyball the other half.

“you coach volleyball? does the old ukai not coach anyone then?”

“nah, old man retired last year. still coaches a few younger kids on the side. but, hey, how have you been? it’s been years since i last saw you in miyagi. 4? 5, maybe?”

“yeah,” you sighed. “it’s definitely been awhile. but life has been great in tokyo. my internship finally ended and so i’m back here for the next month or two!”

“really? you got to let me take you out sometime—drinks, to celebrate.”

you felt the slight rush of heat to your cheeks. “r-right! of course!”

“hey, if you wanted, we close in less than an hour. you could wait here till then, catch up, then let me take you out for drinks.”

“alright,” you smiled, taking a seat behind the counter next to ukai. “tell me about your team then. where do you coach? karasuno?”

you felt like you were 16 all over again. just him and you.

ATSUMU: opposites attract.

you were the promotional manager for the msby black jackals. everyone on the team loved you—yes, even sakusa. though he wouldn’t admit it. but, atsumu being the sly guy he is, took every opportunity to flirt with you. of course, keeping things professional, you shut him down every chance you got. plus, it would never work. ever. you knew that.

he was childish, you were mature—top of your office only a few months in. he was selfish half the time, and he’d always describe you as one of the most thoughtful people he’s ever met. he was confident and bold. you were quiet and reserved, at least time him. so when you find yourself alone with him at the gym one night late after practice, going through your binder of advertising ideas, you didn’t know what to make of it. the way you could feel he eyes focused on you and only you drove you insane.

you finally took a break form your rant about new promotional ideas for the team, leaving a heavy silence between the two of you.

“y/n?” he finally said, breaking for silence.

“yeah, atsumu?” you respond, not looking up form your binder.

“you should let me take ‘ya out. i mean it.”

you quietly gasped to yourself.

sure, atsumu had made pass after pass at you every day for the last few months since you started working with the team. but, this time, he sounded so.. genuine.

what’s even worse is you couldn’t help yourself from the words the escape your lips in the last moment.

“okay.”

© fum1ku 2024.

⁂ taglist: @chloiyoomi @eashn + let me know if you want to be added! 💌

[theemporium]

[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

“She is hiding something.”

Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 

“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.

“Cap’s new girl.” 

Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 

“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 

Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”

Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.

“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 

“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 

“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 

“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”

“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 

Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”

“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 

Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 

Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.

“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 

“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.

“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”

“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”

“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”

“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 

Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 

“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 

Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.

“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.

“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”

“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

…

All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.

And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 

“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 

Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 

“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 

Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”

Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 

“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 

“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 

“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 

“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 

“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  

“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 

Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 

Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”

Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thursday night?”

“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 

But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.

It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.

“I fucking knew it!” 

Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 

“Knew what?” 

“She’s a vampire!” 

Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”

“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 

“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”

“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 

Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”

Jonas raised his brows in response. 

“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 

“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. “Hughesy has a point.”

“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 

“Uh, like five?” 

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 

Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 

“Shut up and answer the question.” 

Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 

“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 

Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 

“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 

“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 

“Low blow, Bas.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”

“I’m gonna prove it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Just wait and see, Siegs.”

…

Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 

It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 

Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 

Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 

“Ready to eat dirt?”

Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 

“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”

“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.

“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”

Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 

He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 

“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.

“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 

Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 

“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.

“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.

“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 

Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 

“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 

You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 

Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 

“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 

“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 

“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.

“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”

“You need help.” 

…

The next attempt happened a week later. 

You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 

“What?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.

“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 

Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 

“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.

Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 

Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 

“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 

“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.

“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 

“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 

“Like what?” Nate questioned.

“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.

“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 

“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.

“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 

For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.

…

During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.

Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 

It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.

“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”

Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”

Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 

Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.

All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.

“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”

Jonas frowned at his wording.

“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”

“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 

“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”

“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.

“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”

“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.

Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”

“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 

“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”

“You know I’m right!” 

“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 

…

Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 

He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 

Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 

But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.

In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 

Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 

And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 

They do not show up in photographs. 

It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 

It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 

So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 

Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 

He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 

Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 

“C’mon, say it again.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 

“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.

You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”

Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”

“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 

However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 

“Jack?”

Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 

You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.

Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 

Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 

“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”

You blinked. “I what?” 

“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 

Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 

“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 

“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 

Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 

“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”

“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 

“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”

“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”

“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.

“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.

“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”

You snorted in response. 

“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 

“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.

“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 

You snorted in response.

“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.

You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 

This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.

…

“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 

Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.

“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”

Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 

“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 

“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 

“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.

“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 

Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.

“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 

You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 

“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 

“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.

.

[the-prettiest-teardrop]

WORLDS COLLIDE

i. meeting

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warnings- Trust issues, Kissing, She/Her pronouns.

Word count- 1.5k

“Dude, have you seen the new girl yet?” Chris questions. Luke and him are sitting in their respective bunks in the Hermes cabin, taking the opportunity of an empty cabin to chat.

“No, not yet. Should I see her?” Luke responds, his tone inquisitive.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s like, exactly your type.” Chris replies, laying back in his bunk, turning his head to face Luke.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see her soon.” He replies, laying back in his bunk with a sigh.

You trudged into the Hermes cabin, exhausted, and ready to go to bed. It had been a long day, being the new kid at your age felt weird, especially with kids running around with more knowledge of this stuff than you. Everyone was somewhat nice, which was relieving, but no one  really caught your eye, well, until that night.

You laid in your bunk, looking up a bit to see a tall boy, dark curls falling into his face as he quietly studied you.

“You new?” He asks, his voice deep and rich, causing your heart to pound a small bit faster. The boy was pretty, tall, a little bit unsure of himself, but it was kinda cute.

“Mhm, was it that obvious?” You reply, your exhaustion convened through your voice.

“No, no! Not at all! Listen, uh, I’m Luke.” He says with a small smile, moving closer and extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N, and it’s all good.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it. You find yourself lingering in the warmth of his hand, reluctant to let go. When you release his hand, you smile softly, enjoying the small connection the two of you had made.

“Well, I should let you rest, but it was really nice to meet you.” He says, smiling as you nod, he then turns away, walking back to his bunk bed.

Luke’s heart pounded as he laid in bed that night, still thrilled after the excitement of your meeting. Chris had been right, you were his dream girl, perfect, exactly who he had always wanted. He couldn’t wait to see you again, to hear your voice, to see your glowing smile. He felt like a giddy schoolboy with a crush, desperate for your attention.

He dreamed of you that night, of holding your hand, guiding you through life at camp. He hadn't ever fallen for someone like this, so fast, so desperate for attention.

When he woke up that morning, he was still desperately excited to see you, wanting nothing more to see your smile yet again.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” He pipes up, sliding up beside you at the archery grounds. He didn't know why he bothered to check on your name, it had been in his thoughts for hours, ever since you told him.

“Yeah, it’s really good to see you again.” You emphasize the really, realizing that you may be starting to form a crush on the boy you had met only days ago.

“Yeah, yeah, um, you- you too.” God, he needed to get it together. He smiled, his heart warming as you smiled back. He watched you for a few minutes, looking at your aim. “Hey,” he suddenly piped up, “can I help you with your position a bit?”

“Oh, that would be amazing.” He quickly stepped up behind you, hands on yours as he moved your body little by little. His breath was hot on your neck, the smell of toothpaste, his shampoo, sun lotion, and sweat filled your nostrils, his own version of summer in a scent. It made you want to burrow your face into his neck, take in his musk.

“Alright, just aim, and shoot.” His voice brings you out of your dreamy haze. You shake your head a little, then release the arrow. He watches it soar through the air, hitting the target with precision. “Good job.” He praises, his voice light. making your insides heat up with both embarrassment and excitement.

“Thank you, really, you don’t know how much better you’ve made this all for me already.” You say with a light chuckle, all he could think about was how much better you had already made his life, just by existing.

“Hey, um, I know this is really random, but the lake, um, there’s a- a dock on it, and I wanna know if you’d want to go watch the sunset on it? Like, with me?” His heart pounds in his chest as he speaks. He was so scared to be rejected, maybe it was lingering fear, that finally trusting something would backfire on him.

“I- I’d actually love to, um, would it just be us?” You ask timidly, fearing that your feelings would be revealed too much, scaring him off.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you and all.” He replies, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Dude, you actually scored a date with her? She’s been here for like, 3 days, and all the guys are already on her.” Chris said after Luke had relayed the events of your encounter.

“Yeah, I think she’s into me too, I mean, she checked to see if we’d be alone, so that’s a score.” He says with a light chuckle before taking a bite of his dinner. He looked up to see you chatting excitedly with a few girls you had made friends with. It made him happy to see you happy, especially with your new friends.

“Just keep her close, all the other guys here would pounce on her in a heartbeat.” Chris adds, unknowing of how this seemed to spike Luke’s trust issues. He tried to push the thought away, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his head, even as he got ready to meet you.

There he sat, about 15 minutes before sunset, on the dock, fluffing his curls up while waiting for you. He hadn’t dressed up much, just wearing cargos and a black hoodie considering that it would get chilly as the sun went down. His jaw almost dropped when he saw you walk up. You wore a lace cami, pink with lace trim and a little bow, along with light wash, flared jeans.

“Holy shit, you are making feel really under-dressed. You look stunning.” He commented, eyes fixed on the way your eyes seemed to sparkle, even in the low light, as you took your seat beside him.

“I didn’t know what the dress code was for this, so I figured dressing nice would be the better option.” In all reality, you were hoping he’d give you his hoodie at some point in the night. “You look nice too, I mean, you always do.” You say softly, a blush forming across your face as you did.

“Thanks, thanks, uh, can I- is it okay- is it okay if I hold your hand?” He asks tentatively, the way he stumbles over his words makes your heart flutter a bit.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice is low and quiet, you reach out to take a hold of his hand, shifting a bit closer to him, shoulder pressed to his. Your head leans a bit, and he nods, as if giving you approval to put it in his shoulder. The two of you sat there for a little while in silence, watching the colors of the sun set over the lake. Rich oranges and cotton candy pinks reflected on the lake’s surface. Luke could feel you shiver slightly, and it gave him an idea.

“Hey, if you’re cold, you can have my hoodie.” He offers, looking into your eyes. God, he loved your eyes, all the different colored specks, he could get lost in them forever.

“Oh, yeah, um, if it isn’t too much trouble.” You respond, almost shyly. He quickly takes his hoodie off, his shirt pulling up a bit, giving you a tantalizing glance at his abs. He hands it to you with a smile, and before you put it on, you reach over to fix his curls, now a bit messy.

Luke couldn’t believe this was happening, I mean, he was laying on the dock, watching the sunset with you, you were wearing his sweatshirt, and he was pretty sure you felt the same way about him. As the sun finally set, the stars coming out to light up the sky, he finally decided to make his move.

“Listen, I might be reading this wrong, but I really like you, and-” You cut him off, your lips finally pressing to his. Luke’s body melted, one hand going to your waist, the other to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to melt into you, to burrow inside your heart and live there forever. He almost panicked when you pulled away, clutching your waist in a desperate attempt to keep you close. You just giggled, settling with your head in his lap.

“I think you’ve got your answer, Castellan.”

[niiine]

𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐋

Character(s). Xiao, Scaramouche, Kazuha x Reader (Separate, ofc). Mentions of Venti, Heizou, and Aether.

Synopsis. In which they keep on denying having feelings towards you but then becomes hella possessive and gatekeeping experts when someone shows interest.

Modern! AU, Fem! Reader (I'm so sorry for putting this so late T^T)

Fluff

Tsundere! Scara and Xiao, as usual, and Shy Kazu bebi.

NOT PROOFREAD, please don’t expect.

Xiao

He’s just tolerating you.

Or so he says. But Aether always finds it amusing how you can pester XIAO from time to time and get out of it with just a sigh from the golden eyed lad.

Like today, for example.

- As an introvert, powernap at the university’s roof top is like a holy grail for Xiao. He treasures it so much that the moment the bell signifies lunch, he’ll dash out of the room in a heartbeat. His friends know better than to disturb him else they receive some icy words. But somehow, much to Venti’s amusement, Xiao let you crash his solace and talk his ears out on days that you feel like doing so. Pretty privileges. Venti thought, before gushing it out with their friend group.

Heizou tried to make him confess that he is head over heels for you. He just finds it so funny how Xiao keeps denying his very obvious crush on you. Come on, he’s pretty sure that he’s not the only one who notice how Xiao’s sharp eyes keeps drifting back to you every time.

“You don’t look at me like how you look at her!”

“No. It’s just that it hurts my eyes when I see you.”

It’s the talk of the group for like a week. How they would see Xiao being such a gentleman when you’re in the room, his patience longer than they’ve ever seen, and more.

“Just admit it lover boy. You simp for (name)” Scaramouche pointed out. A sinister thought playing in his mind.

-  “I told you, I don’t. She’s just much tolerable than the rest of our classmates” The questioned man rolled his eyes, not entertaining the idea because even if he does, he’s a hundred and ten percent sure that you’re not in love with him. “Well, if that’s true, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I go after her?” the indigo haired man piped, only to be met by daggers sent through Xiao’s eyes. Eerie silence filled the room until Scara raised his hands in the air, satisfied smirk decorating his lips, “I’m kidding.” (Much like what he had done in this one.)

“Thought so.”

Scaramouche

This man is so obvious it hurts.

And also, he’s extra mean to you. He wants your attention babe, believe me.

“Hah! I can do that better. You suck.”, “What? Speechless because you’re so in love with me?”

No, it’s the other way around and SCARAMOUCHE KNOWS IT.

But like, you don’t believe his attitude towards you because his actions say otherwise.

- “You’re an idiot. Acting so high and mighty while being pathetically weak.” And then he proceeds to help you pick up the books that have fallen from your grasp and took the remaining ones on your arms to carry it himself.

- “Heh. You think he’s gonna like you back by helping him out? No way you’re uglyyy” “I don’t like him idiot. I have to do this, so he’ll pay me nice and good” you rolled your eyes and he sighs in relief.

He’s actually pretty close to you since you’re friends since middle school.

Venti and Heizou will call the two of you an old married couple because of the continues bickering. Of which Scara will return with disgusted look because no, He can’t have it get to him because he will lose you if he does.

But his friends know otherwise. They notice how careful the man when it comes to you, how observant he is when you’re involved, etc. And besides, Venti just feels it.

And Venti turns out right (again) when their group passed by two students who are obviously gushing over you and one of them spot Scara.

- “Just confess to (name)! You wouldn’t know until you try.” One of them says, and Scara’s ears perked up at the sound of your name. “But aren’t they like with that scary dude?” cue Venti and Heizou snickering in the background. This resulted to the two met gazes with them. Their knees tremble at the sight of your bestfriend. His usually playful eyes now dark and looming—and it’s directed at them.

“Yes,” he started menacing look present in his lovely, porcelain face. “they’re taken by the scary dude.”

The two ended up running and Venti and Heizou needs to be intervened by Aether for them to stop laughing.

“Hey scary dude. I thought you didn’t like her?” Venti teased, and Aether just sighed.

“Shut up”

Kaedehara Kazuha

This man is a gentleman you wouldn’t notice anything if you’re not as observant as Heizou.

He smiles so gentle with anyone, he talks with utmost respect, this guy right here is the epitome of prim and proper.

“But he’s always giddy when he’s talking to them” Heizou pointed out to Venti one day, to which the latter ended up agreeing to. Because now that he mentions it, Kazuha really seems so excited talking to you.

His eyes literally sparkles when you’re in the room, and his smiles are wider and brighter than usual when talking to you.

And in addition to that, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA always go out of his way for you.

- “Kazuha?” The man turns to you, a tender smile immediately making its way to decorate his face, “Yes, (name)?”. “I made a (a dish with gourd in it). Would you like some?” And oh, the man will munch on it like it’s his most favorite thing on the whole Teyvat, only it’s not. He hates bitter gourd. But to make you happy? Give it all to him and he’ll eat it with the sweetest smile.

The lad also does everything in his capability to be near you. You need something from the cafeteria? He needs to buy something as well. You suck at this one subject? He’ll offer to teach you. You accidentally have no partner in light stretching for P.E? He, too!

But it seems like this fact hits Venti and Heizou earlier than him, as they can also see clear signs that Kazuha is not aware of his own feelings.

That’s why they took it to their own hands. They must help their friend in need you know! So, they did the most obvious thing one should do,

They asked him.

- “Zuhaa,” Venti piped in as Heizou placed his arms around Kazuha’s shoulder. “We’re wondering, do you perhaps fancy (name)?”. They received a soft chuckle from the lad. A very composed answer left his lips. “(Name) is certainly beautiful and wonderful individual,” he smiles and cleared his throat. Bashful and shy from his words, “But I am afraid I have to say no to you question.” The other two expected this. ALL their friends are like this, Kazuha is not the first one, so they know what to do. “Ohh That’s great!” Venti exclaimed, as if excited at the new found information before turning to Heizou, “You can pursue them then!”

Kazuha’s heart almost stopped at his friends’ words, so Heizou like you? Of course, he does. You’re beautiful and kind and gentle, and more. It’s only natural to like you. But he wants you! And words left his lips before he can keep it shut.

“No, they’re mine!”

Awe, the usually composed and collected Kazuha now red and ashamed of what he has done. The back of his hand failing miserably at trying to hide the red hue that painted his face down to his neck.

The other two looked at the outburst of their friend before erupting into laughter.

“Not if you don’t confess soon enough” Heizou said in between laughs and Kazuha sent him a sharp look. Face still beet red.

“Don’t do that again” he warned the other two, now caught up on their antics.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: …whoops

Notes: Guys I’m posting this while at the salon, my hair is processing it’s gonna be b l u e

Day 1: Public Sex

“I’m telling you man-” Buck puts his arms up on the edge of the pool and Eddie rolls his eyes “You just gotta get laid”

Eddie had been on edge lately, everyone had noticed it, after his latest fling had fizzled out he’d been hitting the gym more, hitting the bar more. Hell, he’d even started going to the library again.

He was this close to taking up bungee jumping.

“I don’t need-“

“Don’t even start” Buck puts his hands up “Literally do not. I swear to god you’re gonna burst at any second if you don’t just get some”

Eddie sighs “You know, sex doesn’t actually solve everything?”

“Oh, but it sure as fuck would this time” He winks and Eddie rolls his eyes again, crossing his arms over his chest as he puts his back against the wall.

“You know that’s not me dude… I’m not- I’m not a one-night stand kind of-“

“We’re here!!”

Both boys look up to see Tommy walking in through the house, Buck immediately gets up and swims over to the stairs.

“Hey gorgeous,” Buck says as he gets out, coming over to Tommy. Tommy takes his chin in his fingers, pulling him forward and giving him a little peck on the lips with a wink.

“Oh fucking gag”

A voice comes from behind him and Buck pulls away, giddy as ever

“Hi Y/N”

“Hi Ev- Buck” She corrects herself as she steps out of Tommy’s ginormous shadow.

Eddie comes out of the pool now, the water cascading down his body, he shakes out his hair and smoothes it back.

Buck looks at Tommy. Tommy looks at Buck.

“Hey Eddie, c’mere I want you to meet someone”

He steps aside and holds his arms out, presenting you to Eddie, he gives Tommy a nod, who rolls his eyes and does the same thing.

“Tada,” He says sarcastically and Eddie shakes his head, chuckling as he walks over.

“Eddie Diaz” He holds his hand out and you smile, shaking it

“Y/N Kinard. I’m-“

“Tommy’s little sister!!!” Buck squeals and puts his arm around Eddie.

“Jesus Christ” Tommy mutters under his breath as he grabs Buck by the arm and pulls him off of Eddie.

“She’s staying with me, I thought it’d be nice if she came to hang out with us!”

“If you don’t mind” You pipe up and Tommy has to fight to keep Buck from going feral

“Oh no! Of course, I don’t come on I’ll show you where to put your stuff” Eddie reaches for your pool bag and you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing a little as he leads you over to the pool chairs.

“Evan- Evan you have to-“ Tommy puts his hands on Buck's shoulders as he’s nearly bouncing out of his shorts.

“Evan let it happen, it’s gotta be organic okay? We’ve done our part”

“So I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t play my baby-making playlist?” He shakes his head and Tommy shakes his head with him

“No babe, no you shouldn’t”

Eddie sets your bag down on the pool chair and you smile up at him, he knows what the guys are doing god does he know.

But fuck if you’re not the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. He’s surprised you’re even related to Tommy you’re so… petite. You’ve gotta be a good foot shorter than he is and god the way your curves fill out that swimsuit.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly “I know you probably like wanted a boys thing and-“

“Oh no! No, I’m glad you decided to come!” He puts his hands on your arms and you blush, he pulls his hands back quickly and copies your stance, rubbing the back of his neck

“I’m uh- I'm glad you’re here…Do you- do you have sunscreen? Gotta… make sure you’re all… sun protected”

You snicker a little and turn away from him to go through your bag and he nearly pulls his hair out as he digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, groaning to himself. He’s never this fucking awkward around women.

“You think Tommy would let me go anywhere without it?” You joke as you stand back up “Did you need some?”

“Uh no- no I’m covered but um- I can-‘I can get your back for you if you’d like” He offers as he puts his hand out and you shrug, pouring some into it.

“Thanks”

“Mhm!!” His voice is high-pitched as you turn around and lie down on the beach chair. He gets on his knees, rubbing his hands together before rubbing your back, you reach back and pull the string of your stop, letting it fall off and adjust yourself a little

“That should make things easier,” You say as you pull your hair to the side and Eddie has to work very hard to ignore the perfect view he has of your side boob.

“Ha yeah. So- so much easier yeah” He rubs your shoulders first, working the lotion down your sides and across your golden skin. He likes the way it shimmers as it dries into your skin, how soft your skin is, how pretty it is. He’s so busy giving you a massage, rubbing the lotion in he doesn’t even realize the little noises you’re making at first until you moan his name. His hands freeze in place and he finally snaps out of it.

“You’re pretty good with your hands,” You say softly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“I work with them,” He says dumbly and you giggle while he internally terminates his life contract.

“Yeah, I know, with Buck, right? You’re a firefighter too?”

“Yeah actually, it feels like my calling sometimes you know? Helping people just feels right. Plus you know I get to ride in a fire truck and who doesn’t want to freaking do that”

“Yeah he’s like super sexy, he saves people!! He’s a hero!!!” Buck pops up behind Eddie who nearly swings on him and you scream

“I’m sorry I’m so-“ Tommy lifts Buck by the waist, throwing him over his shoulder.

“Eddie can do this too!! I’ve seen him do it!!” Buck yells before Tommy dumps him into the pool and jumps in with him to try and drown him

You laugh as you get up, facing away from Eddie, you look at him from over your shoulder and Eddie practically melts, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Mind retying this for me?” You ask and he nods absentmindedly, his hands fumbling a little as he grabs the strings and ties them back for you

“This good?” He rests his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him

“Uh huh…” You both stare at each other for a second and he smirks, blushing

“Cool. You ready to get in? Or?” His hands travel down your sides and he grips your hips

“Yeah I guess I’m-“

Before you can even finish your sentence Eddie grabs you by your hips, running over to the pool.

“Wait, wait no wait!!!” You scream as he launches you both into the water. You come back to the surface and jump on him, trying to shove him back under

“You asshat!!”

He’s laughing as he grabs you again and dunks you back under, his body staying pressed to yours as you make him bring you back up.

“Hey, that’s not fair!!” You kick and splash and he turns you in his arms so you’re facing him

“Awwwww is the Princess pouting?” He smirks and your jaw drops

“Princess??” You scoff “I’m not a Princess.”

“I don’t know that” Eddie shrugs “Maybe if I got to know you better…”

“Is he asking you on a date” Buck comes up out of the water and Eddie shoves him right back down.

“Because Tommy and I are going out for lunch after this!! I was just gonna make Eddie take you home but this works too”

Now it’s your turn to shove him back down

“How bout it? Just a little getting to know you”

“I’m just saying it could be a double date”

You sigh, leaning your head on Eddie’s shoulder, and smile, shaking your head.

“Yeah Buck we can go on a double date”

“Why do you indulge him” Eddie groans as he goes running through the water, splashing wildly to tell Tommy.

“Because he won’t stop popping up if we don’t”

Buck actually stops bothering you two after that, not that it’s really much to bother you about now that you’ve agreed to a date. You spend the next couple of hours just messing around with them, playing stupid pool games and even mermaids with Buck. He keeps making you do hair flips like Ariel and Tommy puts a stop to that the second you nearly smack your head into the wall after how dizzy it’s made you.

Buck eventually finds a way to convince Tommy to play chicken and he promises he’ll take it easy on you as he helps you onto Eddie’s shoulders and pats your butt.

Eddie though nearly has a heart attack as you settle on his shoulders, your thighs are so perfect and soft and warm, his head rests against your breasts and he tries to be normal about it he does but they’re just so perfect.

He’s never been more glad he’s in a pool because you can’t see the way his cock is rock hard as you squeal and laugh while fighting Buck and trying to shove him over. Eventually, you fall over onto Buck and you both go laughing and splashing into the water and Eddie feels the tiniest hint of jealousy at the way you cling to Buck as he stands you both up.

He quickly passes you back to Eddie though who is more than happy to be holding you again.

“Hey, Ed why don’t you uh- go inside, maybe help Y/N get ready to go?”

“Did you just call me Ed-“

“Yeah yeah go go” He shoves you and Eddie out of the pool and the two of you gather your stuff up and leave just as Tommy pulls Buck over to him, cupping his face and pressing their lips together.

You and Eddie make gagging noises and Buck flips you off

“I literally hate having siblings,” You say as you both walk into the house, Eddie holds the door for you and you sneak under his arm

“Buck is the closest thing I have to a brother here. I can painfully agree with you”

“At least you don’t live with him” you laugh, as you start to dry off more. You rub your arms, trying to generate some heat and Eddie reaches for you

“For warmth” He shrugs like it doesn’t really mean much, trying to pretend like he’s not internally freaking out as you pull your arms to your chest and snuggle into his, he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head

“Better?” He asks, feeling you squirm a little and you shrug, clearing your throat

“Uh huh, a lot better”

His body is so warm and so… hard. His abs feel nice under your fingertips and you try not to get caught as you totally feel him up and he tries not to get caught feeling you up. His hands rub your arms slowly, his fingertips sliding up your back and massaging you gently again.

“We should probably see what’s keeping them” You pull away after a little bit, biting your lip.

“Yeah… probably” he makes you pull away from him, he doesn’t want to do it himself. You take his hand and pull him back over to the door with you and open it.

“Guys? Can we go please soon?? I’m star-“

Buck is bent over the side of the pool, his head hanging low as he moans, Tommy is over him, kissing his neck and buried deeply inside him.

“MY EYESSSS” Eddie screams as he slams the door shut

Buck has been crazy about double dates, really he just wanted you and Eddie to hang out more and he also wanted to hang out with Eddie and since he wanted to be with Eddie and Tommy it just made sense to bring you too because you’re Tommy’s little sister and he wanted to hang out with you too.

Or at least that’s how he explains it as Eddie blinks at him over his morning coffee.

It wasn’t like it bothered him you tagged along, things were starting to heat up between the two of you. You’d been calling and texting all day since you’d met and he was really starting to feel something for you.

What that was?… he wasn’t really ready to put it into words.

Too bad Buck was.

He’d sent the “What are we?” Text from Eddie’s phone one night when he slept over, and though it got him beat the fuck down Eddie had woken up to an endearing, awkwardly-worded text saying that you “maybe kinda sorta” didn’t mind being his girlfriend.

That’s when the pictures started.

And if getting with you meant you’d be sending him that? Well fuck he would have manned up so much sooner. The first pic arrives when they’re on their way back to the firehouse, he can see the text-

“Is this cute enough for our date?”

And he opens it like a complete dumbass. Because there you are, standing in front of your mirror wearing a sheer corset and a pair of blue jean shorts that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. His jaw drops as he stares at you, and his eyes travel up your body… right to the dripping popsicle you’re eating.

“Holy shit” He lets out a quiet breath as he stares at you. Buck looks over at him and makes little grabby hands.

“Hey is that Y/N? Lemme see!!!”

Eddie hugs his phone to his chest like the gentleman he is, protecting your virtue.

“Uhhh it’s just a picture of her rabbit!! It’s- it’s just you know- a really, like super furry rabbit that’s all it’s nothing! It’s nothing it’s fine”

You guys ended up staying in that night.

A couple days later Buck invited you and Eddie for brunch, he said all cool couples go to brunch (really he just wanted the blueberry pancakes they had at this place and you both agreed to go.

“Hello beautiful” He smiles, pecking your lips as he pulls back your chair

“Hi, Eddie” You blush, kissing him back. He sits next to you puts his arm on the back of your chair and pulls you closer to him

“Can you guys stop being so gross” Buck sips his mimosa and Eddie rolls his eyes

“Dude how many times have I caught you and Tommy fu-“

“Not in front of the kids!!!” Buck nearly spits his drink out as he covers Eddie’s mouth with his hands

Buck and Eddie go back and forth like children before Tommy grabs Buck by the chin and turns him toward him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips

“Focus on the pancakes babe”

Buck pulls away, her cheeks pink, his eyes a little dazed

“Yeah… okay..”

The rest of the time is fun, the boys are really into whatever stupid story they’re remembering and trying to tell you but they keep laughing and talking over each other.

You’re nodding along absentmindedly when Eddie feels your hand. He thinks it’s just a fluke, an accident. But… no? It’s creeping higher up his thigh, stroking his muscles softly.

He can feel his cock hardening in his pants, and he tries to maintain his composure, keeping the conversation going with Buck and Tommy.

He thinks? Are they talking about like bees now? Or maybe horses? He has no fucking clue, not with your fingers doing a little walk up his thigh.

He leans back in his chair, allowing your hand to inch closer, and when you finally touch his growing bulge, he lets out a soft breath, his eyes drifting shut for a moment.

You giggle at something Tommy said, rolling your eyes at the stupid dad joke before glancing at Eddie, your nose crinkles, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you start to stroke him slowly.

Eddie's breath hitches at your touch, his body tensing slightly. He forces himself to relax as best he can, keeping his composure as he listens to the conversation. Your giggle sends shivers down his spine, his heart racing. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he just shoves you down on the table and fucks you right in front of Buck’s salad.

“Eddie?” You look up at him innocently, acting like the sweetest little angel “Can you show me where the bathroom is?”

His eyes light up as he looks over at you, eager to please. His voice is huskier than normal and Buck definitely picks up on that.

“Yeah of course” He gets up from the table, clearing his throat “Excuse us” he takes your hand and pulls you behind him, leading you toward the back of the restaurant. You can feel the excitement and anticipation building up in your chest, and you can see from the grin on his face he’s feeling exactly the same way you are

He pulls you into the family bathroom and pushes you against the door the second it closes, kissing you passionately as he locks it. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, your tongues battling for dominance. His fist hits the door beside you and you gasp into his mouth, he grins, his tongue winning easily now.

“Oh… oh you like it rough don’t you?”

He chuckles darkly as he attacks your neck, biting and kissing. You pull at his belt and whine.

“We don’t have much time, it has to be quick!” Your breath is ragged as he scoops you up and carries you over to the counter

“You think you’re wet enough for me?”

He shoves your skirt up around your waist and pulls your panties to the side, his eyes widening at the sticky tendrils of your wetness plastered against them.

“Holy….”

“I think I’m wet enough” you whisper seductively, reaching for his belt and taking it off.

He pulls his thick cock from his pants, stroking it slowly and tapping your clit with it, your body shudders as he rubs it through your folds, gathering your wetness all over the tip. Your head falls back as he thrusts into you in one quick motion, the wind is knocked out of you as you slap your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your moan.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before he sets a brutal pace, he has to, not that you’re complaining in the least. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper each time. His grip on your thighs tightens as your nails scrape over his skin.

“You feel so fucking good” he groans, his body burning with need. Your breathy moans and whimpers spur him on. His hand comes up to brace himself against the mirror as he loses himself in your body, the sounds of the way he’s fucking you echoing in the small bathroom. He can feel your tightness, how wet you are for him, the way you clench around him with each thrust like he belongs inside you, like you own him.

“Y-you have to p-pull out” you pant harshly, your head falling back so you can see yourself in the mirror.

“Oh baby girl, if you think for one second I’m not making you sit at that table with my cum dripping between your legs?”

His thrusts become sharper and you cry out

“I’m not fucking you dumb enough”

He covers your mouth as he thrusts into you harder, keeping all those high-pitched whines and noises quiet. He wishes he didn’t have to keep you so quiet, but he doesn’t care all that much when you take his hand and push it up further covering your nose too.

“Oh, Y/N” He moans, holding his hand down harder so you can barely breathe, it sends his head spinning, his hips stuttering and jerking messily as he pounds into you so desperately.

His lips spill praises for you, “Good girl” “so fucking tight” he can feel you clenching around him more and more as your back arches and your body shudders, your orgasm rippling through you and that’s all it takes for him to cum with you, pumping his seed into you.

He pulls his hand away and you gasp in air as he collapses against you. You hug him to your chest as he nuzzles his face into you.

“Fucking hell” he moans into your neck and you trail your fingers through his hair in response, tugging lightly so he’ll look up at you. You press your lips to his, giggling quietly and he grins, kissing you back.

“You think they know?” You blush while he sets you back down, helping you rearrange your clothes, your legs are still wobbling and it just makes him want to do it all over again

“I mean, probably” he chuckles, and you groan, letting your head fall against his chest.

“That’s…. Something”

“Hey you’re the one who started this, you really didn’t think it through huh?” He taps your forehead and you huff at him while he gets himself put back together. You make him bend down to fix his hair and he smirks, staring into your eyes while you do it.

“Quit it!!” You frown a little and that just makes him smile more

“You’re really pretty”

You look at him, your fingers tangled in his hair and he leans in, giving you a soft kiss, still staring into your eyes.

“You’re really intimidating” you admit shyly and he gives you a funny look

“Honey we just fucked in a public bathroom and now you want to get all shy on me? Now you want to tell me how intimidating I am?”

“Oh shut up!!” You whack his chest and shove him away and he laughs, pulling you back into him and kissing your neck

“Awww don’t pout baby girl, you’ll turn me on again”

“Eddie Diaz!” You squeak and before he can embarrass you anymore there’s a knock at the door

“Occupied!” Eddie calls out as he pushes you against the wall now, you whimper and lift your leg around his waist and he picks you back up

“Yeah I know, Tommy and I are hungry. Are you guys done yet?? Because she’s gonna be too exhausted to eat”

Your mouth drops open and Eddie lets his head fall onto your shoulder. He chuckles and shakes his head before setting you back down carefully

“Yeah... Buck. We’re done.”

Two weeks later Eddie comes into work, a little pep in his step. He jogs up the stairs and stops at the top, his team standing there. Bobby has a cake in his hands as the other three cheer and a little burst of confetti is thrown on him.

“Whaaat’s this all about?” He laughs, shaking the confetti from his hair

“Congratulations on getting laid!!” Chimney cheers

“Continuously!” Hen adds and Bobby shows him the cake that says “Congrats! You got laid!” With a cute little bed in the middle of it

“We’re gonna be brothers!!” Buck squeals as he jumps on him

[bbyjackie]

𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

relationship headcanons with one piece feat: luffy, zoro, kid, law

warnings: fluff

(header by Loni)

𝙇𝙐𝙁𝙁𝙔 has a constant need to be around you. he follows you around absentmindedly everywhere like a puppy, sometimes it can be a bit of a nuisance.

"y/n it was so funny! usopp's hand was just stuck in the pipe and he was screaming for like an hour 'til franky saw him!" luffy cackled, a gummy grin etched onto his features as you felt your finger grow numb by the second. "hm, i bet.." you let out a light hearted scoff, trying to pull your hand back. it felt like with each tug of your hand, instead of loosening the grasp luffy had, it only made his arm stretch further. "but luf, i need you to let go off my finger!" you groaned under your breath as you felt your back grow sore from the odd angle. you were shrimping with your spine feeling like it was bent to a full right angle just trying to pull away from the - sorry, your rubber boy as he made very clear. you couldn't see him but you could already envision his dopey smile turn into a massive pout. "ehh? why do i need to let go?" "because if you don't want me to become an usopp and start screaming you're gonna have to let go sweetie!" "i dont see why i have to.." "luf as much as i love you, i'm not taking a shit with your hand snaked through the door like that."

we all know 𝙕𝙊𝙍𝙊 has the worst sense of direction, but it always becomes comedy, especially when you're mid argument with him.

"stop being so dramatic!" zoro groans as his fist pounds against the wooden door of your bedroom. "come on out y/n!", he waited for a moment only to be met with silence. you had turned away from him mid workout after he told you that he doesn't need someone to smother him like an over obsessive mother. you must be pissed. not that it's your fault, he shouldn't have turned you away, you were just worried for him. letting go of his pride, zoro's hand loosens as he purses his lips and thinks for a moment, "hey, 'em sorry, i shouldn't have said that." again, there is just utter silence. feeling dejected, zoro turns his back just to see you with an amused smirk and hands crossed against your chest and usopp giving him the most massive side eye from around the corner of the hallway. "that's great and all that you apologised marimo," you giggled, usopp jumps in, "dude, that's the utility closet."

𝙆𝙄𝘿 is always in stage one: denial. every time anyone brings up the fact that he is utterly whipped for you, his face blows red and he gets soo mad. but the thing is, he secretly keeps small trinkets of yours just so he can feel closer to you.

kid was busy at work with a screwdriver in one hand and the other keeping this small steel mechanism as still as he could. his crimson red eyes staring down intensely at the work on his bench. every time he gets concentrated like this, you could almost see the vertex of his tongue poking through the corner of his red-stained lips. "kid!" you shouted, scampering around the room, as you finally landed behind him, hands secured on either side of his broad shoulders. "hah?" kid gruffed, head leaning backwards, hitting against your chest as he looked up from his desk, "what?" "have you seen my bracelet?" you pouted, tilting your head slightly to the side as you noticed from your peripheral that the arm that was not mechanical twitch slightly. "i can't find it.." kid immediately scoffs, turning his head back down to his work. "no how would i know where it is!" "hmm okay, just asking.." when kid finally leaves his workbench, killer glances at him from the side of the kitchen. "y/n was looking for their bracelet." "yeah i know." "did you find it?" "why the hell would i know where it is?" "so the silver bracelet with a pink bunny pendant on your wrist is 100% yours?" "shut up - yeah it is mine so what!" "okay sanrio girl calm down."

𝙇𝘼𝙒 has to remind himself that he loves you dearly. you're the first person to make him feel this way. so when you're absolutely eating it up in the middle of his study with ice spice blaring through the den den mushi, he tries his best to live laugh love.

"HE SAYS THAT I'M WHAT?!" you shout, hand gripping the makeshift pen mic up to penguin as law tries his best to concentrate on the med book he has in his hand. he swears to himself that next time he'll never let you in this room again. "GOOD ENOUGH, GRABBIN' MY DUH' DUH' DUH'" penguin answers, nodding along as bepo stands utterly in the corner with the den den mushi in his hands. "THINK 'BOUT SHIT THAT I SHOULDN'T HAVE!" before you can really show your shit, law immediately shambles you guys out of the room. "law, i'm sorry!!" you plead from outside his room as the boys stand awkwardly behind you, ice spice still playing yet way quieter than before from bepo's hands. "c'mon!!" law swears he loves you, but if he hears another t-that boy's a liar! that boy's a liar! he's going to rip his ears off.

[rumisgf]

SASSY MAN APOCALYPSE (MHA EDITION)

summary: exposing some of the mha boys for the sassy niggas that they are 😒👎🏽

warnings: cursing, this whole headcanon is unserious so do not take me seriously LMAO

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

yea let’s get this out the way.

this man has a serious attitude problem, he just loves to argue and, more importantly, he loves to be right

“i said i’m done talking to you!”

“well i’m NOT done, so what?”

“talk to the hand, then.” then literally does 😒🫸🏽 in real life

did y’all see him walking in those jeans? yeah he’s a bad bitch in disguise.

and over text he’s literally unbearable

“girl bye”

“bitch pls”

“and did. tf?” (i hate him)

“you mad you got ate tf up.” (OUUUUU I HATE-)

if you’ve got an attitude or anger problems, you ma’am have met your match

he will have YOU saying “watch your attitude”

DENKI KAMINARI

now he’s the opposite

he’s sassy in a sense that he’s more on the feminine side

which is completely okay, and attractive tbh

…..however,

“ooouuu i ate that!”

“bitch, bye.”

“okay girl!”

he’s so.

this man is a comedian just for the facts he says things like that out of full seriousness

he also likes being petty, it’s so fun

he’s very keen on pet names you call him so if you hit him w a “bru” “bro” or “dude”

he’ll hit you right back w “girly pop” and “sis”

if you’ve seen this tiktok, denki literally does this. like unironically. on multiple occasions.

KEIGO TAKAMI

he needs to go to hell. like fr.

says “girl, boo” religiously

though there are few, any argument you have is completely unserious

like he’ll smack his lips, rolls his eyes, dramatically throw back his head n sigh, allat

you cannot take him seriously at all, ever.

“mmcht, what are you talkin ‘bout???”

“oh okay… OH okay, yeah. 🙄”

“alright, pipe down now.”

as a pro hero i like to think he cares a lot about his appearance and he wants to look good at all times (even though he does already)

he’ll ask you if he’s “serving cunt”

do not respond.

this man gets his nails done, gets fresh cuts every two weeks, gets facials, the whole thing every time

like sir WHAT do you need all that for 😒 who are you trynna impress???

and he’ll post on his instagram story with a bunch of selfies and videos of himself

which you slide up on and call him “ugly ass bitch”

he needs to be humbled

“who you trynna look good for?”

“hush you mad i look better than you.”

“OH?”

© rumisgf

[seasons-of-death]

busywoman!reader meeting toxic!rafe

warnings: nsfw-y, bunny boiler reader, no smut this reader is inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter :) i read a lot of books about women who are considered 'crazy' or 'unhinged' and i just love that trope sm and i really wanted to give it my own try. check out the moodboard for her!

you didn't get why people thought you were overdramatic; yeah, you sometimes had strong reactions, but come on, that happens to everyone. yes, you keyed a guy's car once or thrice, but they were little rich boys, they could afford a new coat of paint. they had it coming.

guys were cruel, no matter the age, always leading you on and then ghosting you when they got what they wanted, you just called your revenge karmic intervention. like they say, sometimes karma just needs a little push.

but still, when you found yourself fascinated by a guy, you couldn't resist the pull you felt toward them, falling for the sweet nothings they told you, telling you they were different than the rest that hurt you. then you'd end up burning every picture you got with them, along with all the clothes they left at your house, and the smell of a backyard bonfire was almost normalized in your neighborhood.

by this point, the word about you and your 'crazy antics' (eyeroll) had gotten around the island and most guys left you alone; sometimes someone who 'wanted to see if you were really how people said you were' would try to get with you, only to prove to them right when they found the words 'SMALL DICK' spray painted on the sides of their car after you found out they cheated on you, accidentally letting it slip near every girl they were interested in that you heard they weren't... clean. even a few clueless tourons got a taste because they just didn't know any better.

there were even insane rumours about you that were totally not true, about how you purposely took a guy to a place with quicksand and let him sink (where can you even find quicksand?) or that one of your neighbors saw you standing outside smoking while covered in blood (you didn't even smoke.)

really, you preferred being alone; you noticed you were calmer when you didn't have someone constantly running through your mind, your... quirks going away, and you could focus on the fashion line you were designing, your sewing machine the best company to have at night.

honestly, you should've seen it coming when rafe cameron started showing interest in you. he had a similar reputation on the island as you did, not when it came to women, but when it came to everything. people often called him 'batshit crazy' and honestly, it appealed to you.

one night you were happily sitting with your girlfriends at the country club, wearing one of the dresses you'd made yourself, sipping on a strawberry mojito, telling them about how you had an a-list actress's assistant contact you about one of the dresses you had made.

rafe saw you, leaning against the counter while pretending to listen to whatever topper was rambling about to him and kelce, his eyes trailing up and down your body, the way your tits bounced in your low-cut pale pink dress as you motioned excitedly causing him to lick his lips as he slowly took a mouthful of bourbon.

"bro, what are you looking at?" topper asked when he noticed he wasn't paying any attention, the two other boys following his eyes to you, cheerily talking to your friends. "rafe, no."

"what?" rafe grinned, looking to his friend.

"you do know who that is, right? you know her reputation?"

"she's batshit crazy, man." kelce piped up.

"god, you two are such drama queens." rafe sighed, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of bourbon, "she's smoking hot."

"dude, i heard she stole someone's car and drove it into a lake."

"and stole 10k from james."

"i heard she straight-up murdered someone."

rafe just shook his head. yeah, he'd heard some of those rumours, but honestly, you looked way too sweet for that, with your pretty bows and short skirts. he tsked, looking to his friends with a grin as he turned to them, "well, you know what they say about crazy girls."

"that they'll kill you in your sleep?" topper raised his brows. rafe simply chuckled, clapping his friend's shoulder, "that they're fucking freaks in bed." and with that, he started walking towards your little group, his ice-cold eyes set on you.

"hey." he said in his usual cheeky tone as he cocked his head to look at your sitting figure, fully ignoring the group of friends surrounding you.

you turned your head and looked up at his face, before sizing him up, cocking your head on the other side than his was, a small chuckle leaving your glossy lips that he already desperately wanted on his.

"hi."

and as you looked at each other with similar grins on your lips, rafe and you were both so blissfully unaware of the disastrous consequences one greeting could have.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[miraclewoozi]

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 1. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

pair ; vernon x fem!reader.  content ; strangers to lovers.  up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.   fluff, angst, parts two and three will contain suggestive themes and smut. (MINORS DNI).  warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage.  wc ; 13.5k ( ~35k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

“What do you mean, no?”

Your best friend and longest standing employee Seungkwan turns his head away from the customer he’s serving to look at you with filth in his eyes. Unsurprisingly, his features don’t soften when you double down on your response to him.

“I mean, no,” you laugh. “I’m running on fumes, dude. I’m not going. No way.”

“But…” he whines, putting down the record in his hands. “No, come on. I told you about this weeks ago. You’re really gonna make me go on my own?”

“You won’t be on your own. Chan’s still going.”

Your younger friend, upon hearing his own name, whirls around from where he’s been rearranging the wall of cassettes and lifts an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“You’re still going to that guy’s show tonight, right?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am. Why?” Chan eyeballs your guilt-adjacent expression for a second before his face falls and he looks at Seungkwan with a curled lip. “What did you do? Why’s she not coming anymore?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Seungkwan barks. The customer he’s still not finished ringing up flinches at the lift in his voice, but he doesn’t notice. “Why is that always your first–”

“Shut up, don’t start this right n–”

“I’m not starting anything! You started–”

“Guys!” You interrupt, looking between the two of them and doing your best to smile apologetically at the poor lady fumbling through the cash in her fingers like it’s an Olympic sport. “Can we park this one? For five minutes? Please?”

The bickering pair fall quickly into silence and Chan sends one last glare at Seungkwan before he turns back to the cassettes, grumbling something under his breath. 

With a clearing of his throat the only giveaway, Seungkwan drops seamlessly back into his customer service voice and plasters a charming smile onto his lips. He checks the register and warmly tells the young woman her total, holding out his palm for her to place the money into. Even knowing him as well as you do, the switch-up gives you a little bit of whiplash.

The customer passes over her cash and accepts her change from Seungkwan’s hands before making perhaps the swiftest exit you’ve ever seen anyone make. No sooner has the bell above the entry to OFF BEAT Vinyl rung and the door has clicked shut, the two men turn once again.

But not on each other.

On you. And it’s the more gentle of them that pipes up first.

“Why aren’t you coming?” Chan asks, abandoning his little project and hurrying over to the desk with a frown. You’re sure it’s supposed to look sympathetic to whatever issue it is that’s changed your mind, supposed to fool you into believing that this has nothing to do with him still blaming Seungkwan entirely. But… you know him better than that. You know them both better. If Chan and Seungkwan weren’t both employed by you, you don’t doubt that they would have ripped each other to shreds within the first hour of meeting. Their dynamic is fascinating to watch — one minute, the best of friends, the next just seconds away from throwing fists; you’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve had to send them to different rooms to avoid having to clean blood and tears off your shop (and sometimes your apartment) floor. 

“I didn’t sleep so well last night, I just want to go to bed early. Is that… okay?” 

(This is an embellishment of the truth, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them.)

“No,” they both exclaim at the same time, but Seungkwan goes one step further and slams his hands down on the counter for good measure. You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at him, but he keeps his palms flat and doesn’t give any indication that he’s about to apologise, so…

“Okay — God.” You turn away from them, heading towards the little office out the back of the store to try and get a few minutes’ respite. “Whatever. Fight with the wall, you guys – I’m not going. Check in with me before you head out, okay?”

Behind you, Seungkwan dramatically calls you a traitor and says he’ll never forgive you for this, but you just shake your head and continue on your way. The world falls into silence as you shut the door after yourself and you lean back against it, letting out a deep exhale and pinching the bridge of your nose. 

Now, you did have an awful night’s sleep last night, and after how on-and-off busy the store has been all day today, the headache you woke up with this morning has only slowly gotten worse. But there are reasons for those things outside of what you’re going to admit to out in the main storefront. As close as the three of you are, there are some things that you’ve always thought it wise to keep… a little bit hushed. Especially at work. 

When Chan and Seungkwan start an inquisition into your private life, it feels like it may never end. And so sue you, you’d actually like to make it home at a reasonable time, today. 

True to your parting request, the two men close down the store for you while you sit out the back in your ‘office’, lights dimmed, pouring over both a new store playlist you’re trying to compile and a few less exciting — but actually important — tasks. Chan heads out first, all puppy-dog eyed when he pokes his head through the door and asking if you’re really not coming out. You shake your head, telling him to have fun and tell you all about it on Monday when he’s next penned in.

Seungkwan is slightly less easily brushed away. A few minutes after Chan says his final goodbye, your other employee slides into your office and shuts the door, sitting down in the armchair opposite you with his eyebrows scrunched together.

He doesn’t speak for almost a full thirty seconds, at which point, you look up at him from the small mountain of receipts you’re trying to organise and click your tongue.

“What?” you ask, leaning back in your own chair and crossing your arms. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You know why.” Seungkwan shifts forward on the cushion until he’s sat almost entirely on the edge of the seat. “You might think you’re really good at hiding your shit, okay? But you’re not. Not from me.”

“Please,” you sigh. “It’s nothing. I’m telling you, I’m just tired today.”

“And I’m telling you that I know you better than that. Come on, talk to me.”

This is, unfortunately, something you can’t deny. It also seems to be his unfailing last line of defence every single time you’re stubborn over discussing your problems. One of these days, you’ll be ready for it — you’ll have a response sitting on the tip of your tongue ready to shut the conversation down, and he’ll be the one on the spot, and you’ll treat yourself to a pint of ice cream or something when you get home as a victory snack. But today? Isn’t that day; Seungkwan stumps you, once again, so you groan in defeat, cradling your head in your hands.

“I went on a date last night,” you say under your breath.

“What?”

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. You say, louder, “I went on a date last night.”

His eyes blow wide and if he could get any closer to you without actually sitting on top of your coffee-stained worktop, you think he would. Which is strange, if you really let yourself think about it, because Seungkwan is sort of an ex-thing, and talking so openly to someone who has quite literally been inside you about going out with other people… shouldn’t come as easily as it does.

But that was quite some time ago, and for three long months, you drove each other nuts. The two of you are way better off as friends. (Whether you’re better as colleagues is still up for review.)

“You what?” he whisper-shouts. It feels almost like he’s hinting to an invisible audience that this piece of information is extremely scandalous: all wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Which would be fine, except it’s not really that scandalous at all, and neither should it be a surprise: you’re single, you have been for a while, and you have an entire sub-folder in your phone dedicated solely to dating apps — you’re at perfect liberty to go out with whoever you like. You just continue to stare at him, refusing to repeat yourself for a third time. 

“You haven’t even been home, have you?” Seungkwan asks after letting the dust settle, the silence just on the brink of uncomfortable. “Oh my God. Tell me everything.”

“Shut up,” you groan. “His name’s Wonwoo. I met him on Hinge. And fuck you – yes, I went back to my own place.”

You pause for a second, taking a breath when his features cloud with the question he’s about to ask. 

“It’s just-... so did he.”

Seungkwan leaps to his feet and claps loud enough that your already tender eardrums feel assaulted, adding an ‘I knew it!’ for good measure. You cringe at his volume, rubbing your temples – you should’ve known telling him this wouldn’t calm him down, but a small part of you was still hoping. This time, he actually does circle around the desk, carelessly shoving a few bits of paper out of his way before sitting on the newly cleared wood. 

“Had you up all night, didn’t he?” Seungkwan asks. You shove his thigh, looking away from him, embarrassed. “What was the date?”

You just wish it was the kind of embarrassment that he thinks you’re feeling. Flustered, shy, giddy even. But it’s not any of those things.

“If I tell you, will you please turn it down a notch?” You ask, and Seungkwan nods, giddily kicking his legs over the side of the desk. With a sigh, you continue. “We just went for a drink. It wasn’t special, okay? It was bad. We had nothing to talk about, he was awkward, I didn’t even wanna be there – I took a bathroom break after like… a half hour, and I tried to bail but I’d left my phone on the table so I had to go back.”

“And how did that end up with him in your panties?” Seungkwan asks, thankfully a little quieter when he speaks this time. 

“Do not talk about my panties out loud ever again,” you grunt, drumming your fingertips on the arm of your office chair. You give a dejected sigh as you answer him properly. “I guess… It felt like a sign that I was trying to give up too early. So I stayed a little longer, told him the truth about how I was feeling. I don’t know, maybe it took the pressure off or something? But we got talking a little more, we found some stuff we had in common… It just got easier and he started cracking a few jokes, so…”

“So… he laughed his way into your—?”

“He doesn’t drink alcohol,” you interject slowly, narrowing your eyes. “I asked him if he minded driving me home.”

“You devil,” Seungkwan grins, lightly prodding your calf with the side of his foot. “Was he good? Was it big?”

“Seungkwan!”

“Did he make you–”

“He was gone this morning when I woke up.”

Your friend doesn’t say ‘oh, shit’ out loud, but he doesn’t have to. The silence he suddenly falls into speaks for itself, his newly adopted slack-jawed expression the exclamation mark at the end of his unspoken sentence. 

“Always the fucking ‘nice’ guys.” You push up from your desk and start to gather your things, shutting off your computer and grabbing your phone off the desk. You’re over it – you can deal with all this tomorrow.

Seungkwan hops down, biting the inside of his cheek as you pull your keys out of the pocket of your jeans. “Come with us tonight,” he tries one more time, laying a hand on your shoulder and sounding the kind of gentle that makes your skin itch. You swerve out from beneath his palm, shaking your head at him again. “Maybe it’ll take your mind off it.”

“I don’t need my mind taking off anything,” you insist softly. “I’m fine, I just don’t feel like going out. Gonna order in some food and get my ass to bed. Okay?”

Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, your best friend finally stops pressing. He circles around you and flicks on the overnight alarm, letting you lead your way out of the office and then through the front of the store. He helps you pull the shutter down and tests the lock for you, as he so often does, before he holds both of his arms out in front of him. With a resigned roll of your eyes, you walk into his embrace for a couple of seconds.

“I’m okay, Seungkwan. Go without me. Have fun and let me know if this Vernon guy is any good, okay?”

“We’ll miss you,” he says as you pull away, and you clap him on the upper arm once before turning away, slipping your headphones on over your ears. 

What you neglected to inform Seungkwan, even after allowing yourself those rare few moments of vulnerability, is who you bumped into on your way to the bar where you met Wonwoo last night. The encounter that set the tone in the first place. The reason you were so cold with the stranger who sat across from you in the booth, the reason you tried to bail, and two-thirds of the reason you’ve felt so damn out of it all day. That’s a story for another time, you tell yourself on your walk home. Maybe. 

But… then again. Maybe not.

You’ve been marinating on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a crisis hoodie for at least two hours and are currently on your second bowl of evening cereal when you hear a knock on your apartment door. You purse your lips and set the spoon back down inside the milky sludge, but you don’t set your ‘dinner’ to one side just yet. It’s probably just the old lady next door, asking if you’ve seen her cat, Houdini (you can’t help but feel like she was asking for trouble giving him a name like that) (in any case — no, you haven’t), or the middle-aged couple opposite asking you to turn your music down (you won’t) (it’s not even that loud).

You’re not getting up. All you have to do is wait for them to give up and away. 

Knock, knock, knock.

They’ll leave. 

Knock knock. 

Any second, now.

…

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

You groan loudly as you haul yourself to your feet and skid over to the door, crossing your arms tighter over your chest to try and shield you from the chill that always lingers in the hallway.

“I’m sorry, Mrs P,  I haven’t seen H—” you start on exasperated autopilot, falling quiet the moment your eyes land first on Chan’s beaming smile, and second on Seungkwan’s guilty eyes. “How… the fuck did you guys get in here?”

“We followed someone in,” Chan tells you as he slides past, inviting himself into your haven and heading through to the living room where your favourite album is spinning on your record player. “That really tall guy – I think he lives on the second floor? Crazy hairline. Like, right back h—?”

“Cool,” you interrupt, except it’s actually everything but cool. Seungkwan steps through the door too, following behind you as you stalk after your younger friend. “Next question. Why are you guys in here?”

“You’ve been in a funk all day,” Chan says, tossing himself down onto your couch and nearly tipping your cereal all over the cushions. He eyes the glass you have on the side-table, raises a brow and looks back at you. “And you can’t deny that. You’re drinking rosè and eating fruit loops at 9pm on a Saturday. You need to get out of this apartment.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” you tell him, sitting down on the armchair to Chan’s left that only ever gets used when these two idiots show up at the same time. 

“One hour?” Seungkwan tries again, crouching down in front of you and taking hold of your hand. “You don’t have to be out late. And – and I’ll open tomorrow. You can stay in bed as long as you want.”

“Do you guys ever stop?” You ask them, and in tandem, the two men shake their heads at you. “I’m staying here. You’ve gotta go, or you’re gonna be late.”

Chan whines your name loudly, stomping like an upset toddler. “You know it won’t be as fun without you.”

“It’s gonna have to be,” you shrug, picking your feet up off the floor and resting them on the coffee table. “Come on. I’m serious. Get out of here.”

Seungkwan watches you for a moment longer but when you eye him sternly, he stands up again, giving your hand a squeeze and sending a nod to tell Chan to get up and follow him. First taking a long sip from your wine glass, the younger man does as he’s instructed, concern etching a frown onto his lips as he walks towards the door.

“If you change your mind, you know where we are, okay?” Seungkwan says and you nod at him. “See you in the morning.”

The door clicks shut behind them and you feel your shoulders droop, a long sigh leaving your lungs now you’re finally back on your own again. You roll your head side-to-side, relieving a tiny bit of the tension that you’ve been holding up in your neck all day, before relaxing back against the cushions behind you.

I’m not going out tonight, you tell yourself as you try to time your breaths to the beat of your music, letting it drown out the fact that the young couple who live two doors down have started arguing just outside your front door. It’s not gonna happen. 

There’s no way. 

The chill of an ice-cold glass meets your palm not even an hour later.

Chan and Seungkwan had been sitting on the stairs outside your apartment building, giving you fifteen more minutes just in case you happened to change your mind. To your credit, neither man had expected you to get out of your quarter-life-crisis outfit. Each gave a whistle of approval as you stepped outside into the air in a nice pair of jeans and a cute, long-sleeved shirt.

You all set off in the direction to the Arrowhead (so-called thanks to the venue’s unconventional triangular room shape) and both of your friends managed to successfully paint a few smiles on your face along the way. Once inside, Seungkwan dragged you by the wrist up towards the main bar space. Before you even had time to process the blurred faces that you walked by and the fuzzy neon signs all the way up the stairwell, enthused cheers and applause from the room ahead and the melodic strumming of a guitar drowned out the dread you’d been feeling ever since you woke up.

“This guy is not covering U2,” Chan says almost incredulously as he thrusts the drink he paid for into your hand. You manage to work your way through the crowd a little: it’s busier in here than you’ve ever seen it before, and certainly way more full than you would have really expected, but there’s still just enough movement room.

“Yeah, he is,” you say as you weave your way into a decent spot, where you can actually see the musician whose logo has been plastered on every notice board around town for the past month and a half. You even end up with a bit of breathing space, which is a rare, but welcome, treat.

But whatever you were about to say next – about how you don’t like U2, and how you’ve never really forgiven them for putting their entire new album onto everybody’s iTunes back in 2014 – dies a magnificent death on your tongue. You pause with your drink halfway to your lips as your eyes land on the main attraction, the man up on the stage; he has a small band up there, too, but all the lights draw your focus to him. His eyes are sparkly. Both his hands are wrapped around the microphone like he’s caressing it, his rosy lips brush over the metal as they move with each word that comes out of his mouth. Watching him quickly becomes almost hypnotic.

So. This is Vernon.

Long, dark hair sits low over his temples, perfectly parted and shaped in the middle to frame his brows. The top few buttons of his emerald satin shirt are popped open, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the hem half tucked into his black jeans. He has rings on almost every finger. A silver chain around his neck. He looks good, but his voice?

I think I hated this song ten minutes ago, you think to yourself, but there’s something about Vernon’s deep, rough-edged tone that has you considering never listening to anything else. If you could stand to look away from the way he cradles his mic, and the way one of his eyes squeezes tighter closed as he lifts up into a higher note, and the way he moves on the stage like he was born to be on one, you might notice your friends (and everyone else around you) equally entranced by this gorgeous rendition of Beautiful Day as yourself. You can’t, though, so you don’t. 

You keep your attention locked on the singer and instead start to wonder just what he injected the air with when he stepped out from behind that curtain. 

Vernon’s eyes flutter back open right as he hits the final line of the song, a smile spreading over his lips. You realise only now that you’re hardly breathing, nor blinking — your body doesn’t remember to function in the ways it needs to survive, too caught up being immersed all the way to the last beat. You think he looks right at you from up on the stage, you swear one of his eyebrows lifts and his features twist into a satisfied smirk. You’re certain, because for half a second it feels like the world tumbles into slow motion and it’s like he’s reading every single one of your secrets, scouring every corner of your mind. 

And then… he looks away. He looks across the crowd applauding and cheering and whistling for him, before crouching low and taking a sip from the water bottle sitting on the floor beside his mic-stand. Only then does he speak. 

“Risky opener, I know,” he chuckles, his speaking-voice deep and smooth and wholly entrancing. The room erupts into soft laughter, a series of whoops coming from the crowd, everyone disarmed by his slightly awkward charm; the singer’s cheeks turn rosy and a gummy smile lights up his face before he continues. “Thank you guys for giving it a chance, though. If you didn’t know… I’m Vernon—…”

You’re hooked on his every word as he starts to introduce himself and the band behind him — everyone is, but you don’t care about the people around you. Despite being shoulder-to-shoulder with your two best friends and with every breath inhaling the overpowering cologne of the guy standing right behind you, it feels, in a way, like you and the singer could be the only two people in the entire room. 

The set lasts just over ninety minutes and is a carefully put-together mixture of mostly original songs and a couple of crowd-pleasing covers, a few slower ballad-types to offset the higher energy rock songs that he beams the whole way through. In-between, Vernon wins over the crowd with his dry sense of humour and a natural charisma that has you feeling mortifyingly warm, despite the fact that you know he isn’t speaking directly to you when he breaks to talk. You’ve been to more than your fair share of gigs in this venue over the years, but few performers have ever made one of their shows feel so genuinely intimate; by the time he says goodnight and heads off the stage, bidding everyone a safe journey home, it feels, in a weird way, like… you know him.

Most of the more local artists who play in the Arrowhead tend to hang around after their sets – sometimes they’ll have copies of EPs, others come with pins and badges showing off their logos, various cute freebies for people to take home. A few even just stand around in the bar and talk for a while, thanking people personally for coming, sharing information about their upcoming releases and future gig schedules. Unless you’ve been really blown away, this isn’t something the three of you often stick around for, though.

It’s therefore a bit of a surprise that when Vernon re-emerges some fifteen minutes later, you don’t even have to convince your friends to work your way into the crowd already starting to form. If anything, the look exchanged between you all establishes that wanting to praise this guy and say hello is very much mutual; the time that ticks by before you’re face-to-face with him really feels like no time at all.

The people in front of you move off to the side and you catch your first actual, unobstructed glimpse of him. He takes a sip from his glass and wipes his upper lip with the back of his hand before greeting you kindly. Somehow, he’s even more handsome up close. You really didn’t think it was possible. 

“Amazing set, man,” Chan says brightly, doing little by way of snapping you out of your trance. “Super fresh.”

“Seriously. So, so good,” Seungkwan gushes.

Vernon pushes away from where he’s leaned against the bar, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and extending it to your friends in turn. 

“Thank you so much,” he says. “Glad you guys liked it.” Another one of those easy, bright smiles spreads over his face. Maybe you entertain, for a second, that it grows a little more when he holds his hand out to you, too. 

You’re still stunned into silence by how breathtaking he is, but you put your drink in the other hand and wipe the condensation off your palm on the side of your jeans before shaking his hand, as well. He’s really warm, maybe even a little clammy, but when he squeezes with his fingers and looks straight into your eyes, this becomes a very negligible detail.

“Your vibe really reminds me of someone… God, what was his name-...” Chan starts to babble, clicking his fingers at lightning speed as if it’ll help him remember. “He was on that survival show-...”

“We’re sorry about him,” Seungkwan interjects after a few more seconds of nonsense and half-spoken, incorrect names, lifting a hand and covering Chan’s mouth. “He gets a little… it’s just when he’s excited.”

“No I don’t,” Chan huffs, swatting Seungkwan’s hand away. You inhale deeply, trying not to cringe as you watch Vernon’s amused eyes bounce between your two friends like he’s watching a tennis match. 

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Case in point—” Seungkwan starts, at which stage you lay one palm on each of their shoulders to try and get them to stop talking.

By some miracle, it works. At least, their mouths stop moving; there’s definitely a silent conversation ongoing in the filthy looks they continue to exchange, but they stop bickering aloud and that’s good enough for you, for now.

“Come on, let’s leave the poor guy alone,” you say, and Chan shoots Seungkwan a filthy look before he nods and takes a small step back from the altercation. 

Vernon’s eyes glitter under the venue’s neon lighting, wide and focused on you while you do your best to mediate. You only notice this when you look back at him, by which point it’s far, far too late to stop the eruption of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re really good,” you compliment finally, a smile tugging your mouth up on one side. 

“Thank you.” Vernon grins, briefly dipping his head in your direction, but looking for a second as if he’s about to say something else. His chest rises with a breath, his lips push forward like they’re about to separate again, but before he can, Chan finds one more thing to come out with. Of course. (Seungkwan, regretfully, was right — he does get a little…)

“Do you like records?” he asks, pulling Vernon’s gaze away from you. The singer tilts his head, questioning. “Records. Vinyl – albums? Records.”

“Shit – yeah.” Vernon nods then. “Yeah, sorry. I um-... Sure. Yeah. Totally.”

“She owns a record store,” Chan says, jerking his head towards you. You feel your eyes blow wide and you’re tapping harshly at his back in an instant, begging him to stop. “OFF BEAT Vinyl. Not too far from here – it’s a cool spot.”

“No kidding?” Vernon says, glancing back in your direction, but you’re too busy silently pleading at Chan to shut up to realise.

“Mm. You should swing by, some time,” Seungkwan agrees, and all of a sudden, you’re overcome with the urge to fight him, too. “We all work there.”

“All right, let’s go,” you cough eventually, grabbing both men by the wrist and tugging. Vernon chuckles softly at the interruption; it’s almost as sweet a sound as his singing.

“OFF BEAT Vinyl,” he repeats, tasting the store’s name on his tongue, swirling it around his mouth like a wine he’s trying to savour. “For real. I’ll look it up.”

Chan grins proudly, finally letting himself be pulled away from the singer, and you manage to make exactly two paces before Vernon’s voice rings through your eardrums one more time.

“Hey, uh – what was your name?” he asks. It’s unmistakable who the question is aimed at (your friends don’t even entertain for a moment that he could be asking them), but regardless, it takes you a moment to let yourself believe he really wants to know. Vernon doesn’t push, though – he knows you heard him and he waits for your answer, leaning a little forward. 

So, you look over your shoulder and you tell him. You see his lips move silently as he repeats it to himself, just like he did with the name of the store. He tastes it. Plays with it on his tongue, remembers the way it feels. As if it’s something he really intends to remember.

“Cool,” he breathes, pushing his hair back and off his forehead and making it very difficult to feel in any way rational. “Well – it’s great to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out, again.”

Finally, you manage to get your friends away. One of them, at least – Seungkwan decides that he actually wants to grab a few copies of his EP (‘one for me, a few for the store’) and rushes back towards the singer; you tell him to just meet you back at the bar.

Then, with another round of drinks on order, you turn to Chan and land a gentle thump on his bicep.

“Dude,” you groan, and he looks at you incredulously, rubbing his upper arm with a pout. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Chan asks. 

“Tell him about the store!”

“I mean – I didn’t think it was classified?” he says. “Shit’s slow right now, and he seems like the kind of guy to have a record collection. What’s the damage?”

Seungkwan appears behind you with his hands full of CDs, badges and a scrap of something that you’re reasonably sure is firstly, a napkin, and secondly, has been signed. So you rest your elbows on the bar and place your head in your hands, grumbling quietly about how you don’t know you’ve managed to survive this long knowing these two losers.

“Because you love us,” Seungkwan says, fastening a button to your t-shirt. “Stop trying to deny it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, accepting the drink from the bartender and taking a long sip. “God, you better have been serious about opening up for me, tomorrow.”

(Well. You have to give it to him: he was.)

“It’s just my opinion!” 

From your perch on top of the store’s counter, you raise both of your palms in a display of your innocence. Chan stands in the middle of the R&B aisle, looking personally offended, fingers curled around the top of one of the wooden crates holding your stock. 

“Me saying ‘I don’t think Welcome to the Black Parade is the best track on that album’ is not me saying that it’s a bad song.”

“But how can you say that?” Chan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who’s hearing the opening note to Famous Last Words and feeling the same way as they do with the Black Parade?”

“Most iconic doesn’t mean the best,” you counter. “Besides – I never said you weren’t allowed to have it as your favourite. It’d be a boring game if we all had the same answer.”

“I cannot cope with you anymore,” Chan whines. “You know what? No. I don’t even believe you. You’re just being a contrarian.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask. 

“Because it’s the best song on the goddamn albu–”

The bell above the door chimes loud and clear through the store and both of your squabbling voices fall silent. Your head turns in the direction of the entrance, an autopilot greeting already forming on your lips, but you feel them fall slack the moment you realise who it is that’s just walked in.

It’s been five days. Though it would be a mistruth to claim you hadn’t thought about the singer since the night of his gig, it’s not one to say you didn’t think he would ever actually come into your place of work. 

Much less at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Thursday.

He pops his wrists as he walks a little further into the store, glancing around. Barring one of your regulars who walks about with his earphones in all the time, the store is completely empty; an adrenaline spike prickles the hairs on your arms, all the tiny muscles beneath your skin pulling them to stand upright. 

“Hi,” he says once he deems himself to be close enough, stopping in his tracks and kicking the toe of his shoe against the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him in return. 

“I’m-... Vernon. We met at the show, the other night?” 

“Yeah — yeah, I remember you,” you smile. “I’m-... well. I’m still y/n.”

“Still y/n,” he says on a relieved exhale, grinning and glancing away from you. “I uh… I just had some free time. Thought I’d swing by and see what you guys had going on here.” Vernon adjusts the collar of his t-shirt, the silver of his rings glinting under the flickering yellow light overhead.

(It was definitely somewhere on your list of things to get fixed. Honest.)

“Sure, yeah,” you nod, swallowing hard and trying your best not to stare at him. It’s hard, though – in broad daylight, the way the flannel tied around his waist floats down over his hips and the way his jeans hug at his thighs is… you don't even have the words. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, okay?” 

“I will.” He starts to thumb through one of the wooden boxes, offering a small smile your way. “Thank you.”

You’re holding your breath a little as he pulls a few 80’s rock albums out, his lips downturned in surprised approval at some of the records you carry. He holds onto a couple as he moves around the store and the entire time, you can feel Chan and Seungkwan staring at you. If there wasn’t a very real danger of Vernon looking your way again at a moment’s notice, you know you would be showing them your middle finger.

Really, they come away lucky.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to find some of these,” Vernon says after a few minutes, sauntering toward the desk – you’re still sitting on top of it, your legs swinging in the air beneath you. “Might have to make this my new stop.”

And displayed beside you on the counter – right by the cash register – are a few of his albums. The ones Seungkwan picked up after the show; until about two seconds ago, you had forgotten they were even there.

Vernon’s face lights up when he notices, turning to Seungkwan. “Come on, no way. I thought you were kidding about that.”

“Deadly serious,” Seungkwan laughs. Out of the corner of his eye, he must see you start to freeze up: he keeps talking instead of letting the silence settle. “It was on the speakers yesterday. Four people asked us about you.”

“For real?” Vernon asks. When all three of you nod your heads, you see the beginnings of a blush start to creep up his neck. “Wow. Thank you – um. That’s really cool of you guys.”

“It’s good music,” Chan shrugs. “You’re super talented.”

You’re not sure what it is about the onslaught of passive praise that gets so deep into Vernon’s head, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself other than repeatedly saying ‘thank you’. Relief comes in the form of another customer jingling the bell above the door and drawing the attention away from him for a few moments.

“I’ll take these,” he says breathlessly as he turns to face you again. You find yourself a tiny bit lost in the warmth of his eyes and it takes you a second to remember to swivel around and slip off the other side of the countertop. You do, though. Eventually. 

“Nice,” you say softly as you shuffle through them, ringing each one through. He’s got pretty decent taste, even if less than a week ago you were actively cringing at his choice of cover song. (It’s okay. That was before you knew better.) “Do you– need sleeves, or…?”

“I’m good. Thank you, though.” Vernon rests his hands against the edge of the counter and drums a quiet rhythm out with his thumbs as you tap away at the register. “Are-... you guys busy tonight, by the way?”

You look up from placing the records into a paper bag, glancing over to your colleagues who both rush to shake their heads. Vernon looks from them, to you, and you mirror their action. Even if I was, you start to think wistfully. I’d make time.

“I’m playing at the Orchid? Uh— it starts at eight thirty; I could get you guys on the list, if-... um…”

“That’d be awesome,” Chan says, nodding so hard you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his shoulders and start bouncing across the floor. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Seungkwan adds. 

Vernon grins at them both, humming softly, before turning back to you and fumbling with his wallet to take out his card to pay for his purchases. You turn the machine around to face him; he hovers with his hand just above it. 

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” He says.

You can’t help the delight that rises inside you, as if it’s been injected straight into your bloodstream. It’s everywhere, all of a sudden. In your brain and your heart and your bones and in your lungs.

Yet, you somehow manage to keep your composure when you say, “yeah. Maybe you will.”

The payment goes through and you slide the bag over towards Vernon, your eyes never leaving his and his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers brush over yours as he takes it from you, the bite of the cold ring on his index finger a shocking contrast to the warmth the rest of his hand radiates. You hope your little gasp isn’t too audible, but… the way Chan whirls around to face away from the scene in front of him (presumably to poorly conceal his laughter), you know you haven’t gotten away with it.

“Cool,” he says, hesitating another second before finally pulling himself away. He bows his head in the direction of your friends, sending another of those irresistibly sweet smiles at you, and then he starts off towards the door. “See you, then.”

You feel your heart finally start to slow down as you grip the counter for dear life, setting out a long, drawn-out breath. What just happened? Why do you feel all… fuzzy?

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” Chan asks in the deepest voice he can muster, snapping you out of your own head none too pleasantly. You turn in their direction as your other favourite moron feigns tucking hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes across at Chan.

“Yeah… Maybe you will.” And Seungkwan’s imitation of you is a little too accurate. Creepily so, and you want to curse him out for it. Instead, you scrunch up a bag to throw towards the pair of them, grinning despite yourself as they both swerve to dodge it.

“Oh my God, shut up,” you chastise them. You don’t have any bite, though, your brain still tingly and positively reeling and seeing Vernon’s dazzling smile every time you so much as blink. And when Seungkwan takes a running start and launches himself, full-force, into Chan’s unsuspecting arms? When Chan lifts him up and spins him around, and when they start making kissy-noises at each other between unearthly cackles? 

You know that the next few hours are going to be the longest of your entire life.

The rest of the afternoon goes by without much disturbance and with evening plans now in place, you make the executive decision to send the boys home half an hour early. The three of you agree to meet outside The Orchid at just after eight o’clock, giving you all a chance to eat, wash up and change before the show; your friends separate and head in the different directions to the places they call home, making a promise to text your group chat before you leave to coordinate the link-up time. You head back into the office to finish tying up your loose ends and manage to depart just an hour later. 

On your way to your apartment, you plan everything out to the minute in your head. You even allocate yourself twenty minutes to sit on the couch and decompress from your working day. So, when you settle down a little further into the cushions and put your head back, resting your eyes… when you tell yourself you’ll get up in just a minute and hop into the shower…

You certainly don’t expect to be woken up two and a half hours later as your phone vibrates on the floor of your living room.

With one eye still closed, you pick it up, yawning and stretching the lingering wisps of slumber from your body. Seungkwan’s contact name shows on your screen and you swipe to answer the call; on the other end of the line, a song you’ve never heard before is audible, but it’s accompanied by a voice you most definitely do know.

Everything snaps into place at once; in an instant, you’re wide awake, and you feel physically sick.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss into the speaker, scrabbling upright, tugging the phone away from your face to see the time. How is it already past 9pm?

“Oh, hello to you, too!” Seungkwan has to half-shout to be anywhere near audible over the music. You can almost perfectly visualise the way he’ll have sandwiched himself in a corner of the venue, pinching the bridge of his nose, head resting against the wall to try and block out enough sound to hear you. “Good to know you’re actually still alive!”

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” you say, rushing through to your bathroom to check if you can get away with leaving the house as you are. (Jury’s out, but you don’t have much of a choice.) “I… don’t know what happened. I fell asleep – I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Seungkwan chides you again, this time reminding you that he’s been on your ass about going to a doctor to get your iron levels checked for months, that your timekeeping is terrible and that you really better hurry. You promise you’re on your way and hang up the call, pocketing your (horrifically under-charged) phone and slipping into a pair of sneakers you keep by the door before you head out. You told him you’d be here. Seungkwan’s voice rings loud and clear in your ears as you lock up your apartment.

But of course, bad things never happen in isolation. Waiting on the street outside your apartment block, you find yourself being cancelled on by not one, but two uber drivers: by the time the third reaches you, and has to follow the world’s most inconvenient diversion to get past some construction work, it’s 9:35. You know it doesn’t matter how quickly you run down the last stretch of the street and get up the seemingly never-ending staircase: it’s going to be too late.

You only manage to catch the literal last two songs of Vernon’s set. You’re not sure he even knows you’ve arrived, and in a way, you hope he doesn’t. Maybe having him believe you were a no-show is better than him knowing you’re about as low-functioning as a grown adult can be. You just slip in through the door as discreetly as you can and hover at the very back of the room as he rounds up for the night; Chan slips an arm around your shoulders as you turn to the bar and order yourself a drink, but it doesn’t do much to reduce the guilt that weighs heavy in your chest. 

Which… is odd, really, you suppose. Seeing as you hardly know the singer much beyond his name and, now, a fraction of his record collection. Seeing as you certainly don’t owe him your presence at any of his performances. But there’s something in the way he made sure to ask you personally if you’d be able to make it, too, and you can’t shake it off, and… yeah, screw it, maybe you did want to be here. Maybe you did want him to notice. Maybe you do care what he thinks of you. 

Maybe… you hope he feels the same about you.

Your drink hasn’t even arrived yet by the time you hear a chain of ‘excuse me – sorry, can I just? Yeah, thanks – sorry, excuse me’ -s behind you. Your eyes fly wide and you almost choke on your own spit at the sound, growing closer and closer, somehow audible over the background music floating through the speakers, over the other chattering voices and shrieks of laughter in every direction. Part of your breathlessness, admittedly, is to do with how immediately you just knew who that voice belonged to.

“Excuse m–” it sounds again.

And then, softer: “Hey.”

You turn around on your bar stool, barely managing to bite back a smile. “Hi.”

Vernon grins at you from a few feet away, a dark singlet hanging loose on his frame, showing off his long, lean arms, displaying the few bracelets he wears on one of his slender wrists. You’re staring – you know you are; you don’t even notice the fact that Chan takes several steps away from you, or how he throws a side-along glance toward Seungkwan, nor the fact that your two best friends start talking quietly among themselves, leaving you and Vernon almost alone.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how I managed to…” But Vernon’s already shaking his head, coming up beside you at the bar, settling into the seat on your left. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, glancing over at you where you’re sitting. “I’m just glad you’re here, now.”

Chan stumbles over to you somewhere around midnight and claps his hand down on your shoulder, interrupting Vernon’s very enthusiastic explanation as to why flying is totally a better superpower to want to have than invisibility. Your giggles fall silent and Vernon stops mid-flow, waiting to hear what your friend wants to speak to you about. Unfortunately, Chan’s words are barely intelligible; it’s only when a marginally-better-for-wear Seungkwan appears too a moment later that you’re able to make any sense of him.

“We’re gonna–” Seungkwan hiccups, covering his mouth with his hand and wincing, no doubt at the burn of everything he’s had to drink now sitting high in his throat. “Gonna head out. Are you coming? We’ll split a taxi with you.”

You find yourself glancing over to where Vernon is standing, propped against the pool table that you’re now leaning on the edge of. He just smiles back at you, lifting his shoulders.

“I think… I’m gonna stay here a little longer,” you say after chewing it over. “You guys go ahead.”

Seungkwan looks between the two of you and frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Vernon gently pipes up from your side, sliding over a little so that his palm rests flat on the felt of the table, his forearm supporting your hips from behind. But it isn’t you he addresses, despite this butterfly-inducing contact. All deep and serious, he says, “I promise, she’s safe with me.” 

He takes his time to show it on his face, but ultimately this satisfies Seungkwan, who (despite being just about able to support both his and Chan’s weight in his current condition) has before, and still will, ignore his body’s demands in the name of ensuring your safety. But maybe he sees a trustworthiness in Vernon, or maybe he knows that you can and do handle yourself quite well. Whatever it is, he’s happy with this development, and your two friends bundle you in a hug so tight that it squeezes the air out of your lungs before they make their way towards the exit.

Once they’re out of view, you turn back to Vernon again, raising both brows at the man now closer to you than he’s ever been. But it’s far from claustrophobic – not as these things can so often be. No. No.

It’s addictive.

“Oh you promise, huh?” The tease comes out before you can do anything about it. You even end up batting your lashes at him for good measure. 

“Cross my heart,” he says with a small shrug of his shoulders. His eyes dip from where they’re boring into your own, glancing down a fraction, just for a moment, and you’re sure you see him start to lean. Drawn to you like an opposing magnet, like a moth to a flame — his breaths feel hotter as they fan against your skin, his cologne starts to smell a little stronger… then, his fingers on the other hand curl around the pool cue he’s been balancing on his side and he drags himself away from you. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kick your ass one more time.”

One more game of pool quickly turns to two, and it even threatens to become a third as you tease, again, that Vernon just got lucky and he flashes you another one of those looks that says ‘oh? Try me’. But as tempting as it is, you don’t think your pride can withstand any more losses. You resign yourself from the table with a huff when he rests his palms flat on the velvet covering, leaning towards you in that mouth-watering way he’s been doing for hours. The thing is, for the size of his pool-playing-ego, Vernon isn’t even that good. Not if you consider the number of completely missed shots, questionable connections and pocketed cues. But, because your own skill level leaves plenty to be desired, he doesn’t have to be up there with the big leagues. 

He just needs to be a tiny bit better than you.

Asshole.

An announcement for last orders from behind the bar tells you that it’s nearing one in the morning as he starts to circle around the table and makes his way towards you. The bar has emptied considerably since you arrived, the music has steadily started getting more and more cheesy, people in all four corners of the room have started draping themselves over one another like well-dressed blankets, having already chosen the individuals they’ve decided to take home tonight. By all accounts, it’s the perfect time to leave. If you head out now, you’ll miss the rush of people flooding into the street and, if you’re lucky, the surge in taxi prices. The really good takeout place around the corner doesn’t close for another half hour, too. 

There’s just one problem. You don’t want this night to end just yet.

“I think I’m gonna get some fresh air,” you say to Vernon, trying to stretch out a burning knot in your shoulder. “It’s like, a thousand degrees in here.”

Vernon nods. “Yeah – cool. I’ll come with you.”

And with your bag slung over the arm not causing you an ache, you start off down the stairwell. The doors are already open and the late night breeze has you feeling like you’re walking through the gates of heaven as you head outside. You inhale deeply, making the most of this very rare occasion of the city’s air not feeling thick with car fuel and cigarettes. Your eyes fall closed.

“I always liked being out at this time,” Vernon says as he joins you, leaning one shoulder against the brickwork of the outside of the bar. “Feels peaceful.”

“Sure,” you nod, craning your neck to look at him. His face is half-illuminated in the neon red of the bar’s sign above you. The harsh lighting and the shadows cast by his angular features have him looking… sort of sinful, in a weird artsy way that you can’t explain thanks to the pleasant buzzing in your brain. Straight out of an arthouse, indie movie. I bet he likes those, you think absently. 

He looks straight into your eyes, intense and focussed as if he’s trying to search them, though for what you’re not sure. Honestly, you think if he gave a few more flutters of those beautiful lashes, you’d bend in-half-and-half-again to give him anything he wanted, so in a way you’re interested to ask what he’s thinking about. You don’t end up saying anything, though. There’s something wonderful in these little unspoken moments with Vernon. Something raw. 

Something… unexplainable. 

Sitting at the bar and stealing tickled glances as the waitress fumbles and drops a tray full of glasses on the floor. Subtle winks of his right eye (always, you’re discovering, the right?) from across a pool table when he succeeds in making a shot he has absolutely no business pulling off. Standing opposite you in the store you own, waiting to find out when – not if – he’s going to see you, again –

“You know,” he starts, the tiniest edge of nervousness in his voice for the first time tonight. Is the performance adrenaline finally wearing off? Is he… maybe starting to feel a little shy? Whatever it is, your last train of thought melts away into the drain just to his right, and you focus on him as he continues down this new path instead. “I got a new coffee machine in my apartment last weekend and I haven’t had the chance to use it for anyone yet.”

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah.” He nods, swallowing. “I uh…” He bounces one fist in the palm of his other hand, searching for the right order to put the words into. “I mean, it’s not like, one of those super fancy ones, or anything… but it’s sorta retro looking? Which is cool, and—”

“Vernon?”

“Yeah?”

“You‘re a little out of practice, huh?”

He chuckles on an outward breath, bowing his head, a grin that threatens to split his pretty face in two taking residence on his lips. “That obvious?”

“A tiny bit,” you say. “It’s cute though.”

He glances up at you, head a little tilted. “Yeah?”

“Mm… getting less-so by the second,” you tease him. “You can just ask me to come with you.”

“I-…” he starts, but he takes a deep breath instead and corrects his posture, as if it’ll prepare him somehow. “Okay. Okay — do you… maybe wanna come back to my place, with me?”

Not without flashing him a look first that says ‘now, was that so hard?’, you find yourself nodding up at him. 

“I’d love to,” you say.

He pushes away from the wall and when you do the same, he falls into step, heading in the direction of his apartment. You try to discreetly roll your shoulder out again but it’s obviously not discrete enough; it draws his attention down to your arm, and he frowns slightly.

“Is that giving you trouble?” He asks. 

“It’s fine.” You wave him off, stretching the muscle as best as you can by tilting your head as you walk. “It’s been like this for years.”

He scrunches his brows. “Here �� can I?” He asks, his fingertip looping beneath the strap of your bag. You look down at your shoulder, then back up at him, before raising one brow, dropping the other. 

“I mean — I don’t know if it’s your colour?” 

Vernon barks out a ‘ha’, easily slipping your bag down your arm, the tips of his warm fingers brushing against your comparatively cool skin. You make no effort to stop him. He positions it on his own shoulder instead, the one furthest away from you so he can still walk right against your side. 

“There’s a reason I wear all black, okay?” He says. “It makes everything my colour.”

His fingers smoothly slip between yours as he says it. It was quite the move, and for a second you’re impressed. At least, until it turns out that this simple action seems to jolt him back to his factory settings, because—

“I’m so serious about this coffee machine, by the way.”

“I know you are,” you laugh, bumping your weight against him and squeezing his hand. “I’m counting on it.”

“Okay, so,” you start, settling into Vernon’s couch and tucking one of your legs up beneath you. You cradle the mug of coffee he’s made you — admittedly, the retro-style machine was pretty cool — between both of your hands, a thumb brushing over the raised pattern on the ceramic. The fresh air from the walk here seems to have decently sobered you; barring a pleasant buzz, you feel almost like you haven’t drunk a thing. “How did you get into music?”

Vernon matches your posture play-for-play, biting the inside of his cheek before he answers. He drank less than you in the first place, but he seems steadier now, as well.

“Uh… a couple things, I guess,” he starts. “I mean, my parents are big into music. Sometimes they'd take me with them to shows and stuff, had a bunch of CD’s all over the house — all that. You know? I really grew up on it, so…"

You nod, tilting your head to gesture for him to continue. 

“Then… I don’t know. There’s- okay, I was kind of a loser in high school,” he goes on. You roll your eyes; Vernon nudges your thigh with his knee playfully, shaking his head. 

“I just mean, I didn’t have a lot of friends.” He pauses, pursing his lips. “So…, I mean, that’s— that’s whatever. The point is that I spent a lot of time on my own and I basically had an earphone in any time I thought I could get away with it, and–... and sometimes even if I couldn’t.” He chuckles. “Weird. Most of my teachers didn’t like me much either.”

You laugh too now, and Vernon bows his head a little; every single one of his handsome features brightens up and you don’t really know where to look. His never-ending lashes are so long they cast shadows down onto his cheeks, and the ambient lighting reflects off his eyes so beautifully that they look like they’re glimmering. 

He goes on, “there was one, though. My bio teacher? She was really cool. She had a lot more time for me than the others did. And uh, she called me into her office after school one day and just said… basically, my options were to start giving a shit about… cells, and mitochon– whatever, or start really working for this great big thing that I spent all my time daydreaming about. And it’s been a little up and down, but…”

He trails off, shrugging on one side.

“I think you’re doing pretty okay,” you chime in, leaning one arm against the back of the couch and resting your head in your palm. “I bet those kids would lose their minds if they could see you now.”

“Oh?” Vernon asks, setting his coffee down on the side-table. You click your tongue at him.

“Don’t– come on.”

“No, seriously,” he laughs. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-…” you start, shaking your head. “Okay. People go out of their way to listen to you. Everyone who comes to one of your shows… that’s an hour, two hours, whatever – of making people feel exactly the way you want them to feel. They... all want to understand you. Right?”

Vernon just looks at you, forehead a tiny bit creased — the cogs in your brain tick away trying to find a better way to explain what you mean, but he finally speaks. (You’re glad, because you were struggling to come up with anything else.) 

“Shit, I thought that was just an in to say you thought I was hot, or something.”

You push at his chest lightly, your palm lingering on his vest a moment longer than is, perhaps, strictly necessary. 

“Shut up,” you groan. But a second later… “I guess there’s that, too.”

He sits back a little, pushing his hair off his forehead with a chuckle. “I dunno, I mean — I sort of… is it weird if I don’t really think about it that way?”

“Of course not,” you tell him.

He gets that look back on his face again; the pensive one, where he appears like he’s seconds away from saying something else, something important. But he falters, and when he glances back at you, his engine stalls. 

Then, with a shake of his head, he says, “wow, okay, enough about me. I’m so sorry. Can I ask you a question?”

You take another sip of your coffee and set it down, too, nodding ‘yes’. To be honest, you were quite enjoying talking about him; at the same time, you know what it is to feel a little too perceived sometimes, so you let him move on without argument. 

“How do you just… own a record store?”

You laugh. It’s been a while since you’ve had to explain this one. (When was the last time one of your dates was interested enough to ask?)

“I’m not as good a storyteller as you are,” you preface, mirroring him when he rolls his eyes, pretending not to notice that he shuffles even closer. You launch into it easily enough — the old store owner was a friend of the family, he let you work there while you were in college, took you on full-time after you dropped out. When his eyesight started deteriorating, he chose to retire and told you it was yours, if you wanted it. 

“Place would’ve closed down, otherwise,” you shrug. “But I couldn’t do it on my own, so I brought the guys in to help. Two years later... yeah. I guess that's how.”

The whole time as you talk, his eyes don’t leave you. He’s quite expressive, you find — whether he’s lifting a perfectly shaped brow, nodding along to what you’re saying, smiling at you… you feel listened to. When he’s sat across from you, you feel heard; you feel known.

“Well, first — take it back. You’re a great storyteller,” he says. You feel your face grow warm and you nudge him with your knee, but you don’t argue — you aren’t convinced he’d let you win, anyway. “But that’s… really cool? Actually.”

“Oh yeah, I heard nine-to-five retail is the coolest thing you can do, these days,” you laugh.

Vernon scoffs at you. “You close at six thirty.”

(How on Earth does he remember that?)

To avoid thinking about it too much, and so you don’t have to try to navigate asking, you roll your eyes.

“You’re right,” you say to him. “That’s way better.”

“Do you like what you do?” He asks, and you tilt your head at him. “Well — okay. If you ignore the… boring, back-office stuff.”

“Yeah,” you say after a pause. “I guess I do.”

“Then it’s cool.”

Your coffees both go cold as you talk more, and more, and more — he asks about your life, and growing up, your friends, and he answers all of your questions in turn when you ask them. He has an interesting way of talking about himself outside of his job; it’s not so much that you have to pry for information, but he’s not super forthcoming. It’s as if he’s taking all of your questions at face value, like he doesn’t know how to go about expanding on them. 

Maybe he’s just more of a listener, you contemplate once he turns yet another of your questions back on you and you teasingly pull him up on it. It flusters him, which you can’t help but find very endearing. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I just… you have such a pretty… voice?” he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck, ears burning pink. 

“Oh?” You ask, stumped for a moment as your heart lurches in your chest. When he nods, you find the gall from somewhere to say, “takes one to know one.” 

(You’re not sure how.)

And on it goes. On, and on, and on. More questions, more answers, more lighthearted shoves and lingering touches and shy glances away from each others’ scorching gazes as heat rushes to your cheeks. He even shows you his record collection and puts on one of his favourite albums for background noise before you settle back into the couch. It’s so natural, even when the vinyl runs to the end and the only noise from the player is a distant crackle. Being in his space and having mindless conversation after mindless conversation feels almost as comfortable as being in your own home. 

You notice something, as you’re rounding off a monologue about why your highschool math teacher was the worst person you’d ever met. A tiny hair on the apple of his cheek. One of those lashes you envy so much. Even as you try to focus back on your closing remarks, your eyes keep dropping to it and you trail off into silence a few words short.

“I’m sorry, you’ve-… got an eyelash,” you say, tapping roughly the same spot on your own cheek. 

“Mm. I have a few of them,” Vernon counters, wiping the heel of his thumb against his skin. He misses, though, and drops his arm back down with the lash still stuck to his face. 

You move before you can stop yourself, hand lifting up to his face and hovering just a few centimetres away.

“Can I?” you ask. 

Vernon nods, wordlessly. He goes cross-eyed and his lids twitch in a flutter as he watches you get closer; you brush the lash onto your thumb and he only breathes again when you rebalance it on the tip of your finger.  You hold it up to him, settling back into your own part of the couch; he just stares back at you. 

“Make a wish,” you prompt. 

His confusion is poorly concealed, head cocked to one side as he looks from the lash to you and back again. “Huh?”

“Don’t you…?”

He shakes his head. 

“Okay, wow,” you laugh, glancing down at your finger too. “You have to make a wish on your eyelashes when they fall out.”

“No, I got that part,” Vernon snickers. “I just mean — why?”

“I—” you start to explain, but you fall short of an explanation and frown instead, biting the inside of your cheek. “… I don’t know. It’s just what you’re supposed to do. I’ve always done it.”

The downturn of your lips doesn’t last very long, though. 

“Well, what if it’s not an eyelash? What if it’s like… one of my eyebrows, or something?” He asks. 

It's such a simple but off-the-wall response that you can't help but laugh, except it comes on so suddenly you start to choke on your own saliva. One of his hands circles around you and rubs soothingly between your shoulder blades as you cough, succeeding in bringing him even closer and failing to lower the fever you’re starting to feel creep up on you. By some miracle, you don’t drop the lash, even as you hack pathetically into the crook of your elbow; Vernon waits for it to subside, a weirdly fond look on his face all the while.

Now, when you turn your head, he’s right there. In your space. His arm still around your back, the glint of the bar pierced through his brow drawing your attention up away from those smiling lips. 

“I guess it just doesn’t come true? I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve never tried wishing on an eyebrow before.”

“I’m just saying,” he starts, falling back against the cushions now he knows you’re not suffocating. His arm doesn’t move, though. If anything, he sort of pulls you with him. “What if it ends up like a reverse wish. Whatever I ask for, the opposite comes true, or something.”

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it,” you say, starting to bring your finger closer to yourself. 

Quicker than you can blink, he reaches to you and lightly lays his fingers around your wrist, stopping you in your path.

“Wait,” he says, pouting a little. “I didn’t say that.”

Both of you glance down to this new point of contact. Two sets of lips stay parted but two identical breaths remain held, burning in both your lungs and in Vernon’s. His gaze shifts back up to your face, eyes wide and wholly serious and unblinking. 

“What do I do?” He asks on the eventual exhale. It reminds you to breathe again, too.

“Close your eyes.”

It takes him a second to obey, but he does. His eyes flutter closed and you clear your throat, lifting your finger until it’s just in front of his face. 

“Make a wish.”

A few seconds later, his brows relax and he nods. 

“Then… blow.”

His lips purse and he pushes a breath through them, lifting the stray lash off your skin and sending it out into the room. He opens his eyes, then, smiling in a manner that you can tell is absolutely despite himself. 

He doesn’t move away, and his cologne, fresh and citrusy, mixes tantalisingly with the sandalwood candle he lit on your way back to the couch a little while ago, both accented by the chewing gum he popped to get rid of the mocha aftertaste still lingering on his breath.

“What did you wish for?” You ask, dropping your hand back down to your side.

He frowns. 

“I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you,” he says. “Pretty sure that’s against like… wish laws, or something.”

“Boring,” you chide, slumping your shoulders, but he just grins at you, darting his tongue out over his lips.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his Adam’s apple bob in a thick swallow and you can feel the gentle brushing of his thumb. The slow movements, up and down over the exposed area on your hip where your shirt has started to ride up, make you shiver, and you know your chest stutters when his fingers move to press wholly against your bare skin. You know he notices, because he does it again. And again, and again. 

It's maddening. You end up stuck in this never-ending feeling of falling head-first into his arms.

“Where do you think the laws stand on showing you, though?” He asks, inching a little closer.

You hold your breath, little more than anticipatory static flooding your brain. 

“I think they’re okay with it.”

You mirror, slowly, hooked in the gaze that has adrenaline dripping down the length of your spine like honey, and you can’t bring yourself to look away until you can practically taste him. He closes the space between you in half speed, but gently, like you’re both made of tissue, he brings his thumb and forefinger to your chin and touches his lips to yours. His nose presses against your cheek. 

It’s comfortable. It’s warm. It’s easy, it’s exhilarating, it’s perfect. You feel like your heart just might burst clean out of your chest—

But… you can’t.  

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, tugging yourself away and clamping your hands over your mouth. “Shit — I’m-… I’m sorry.”

Out of nowhere, you’re fighting to catch a breath, head spinning in circles, and no longer in the good way. Have those beers finally come back to bite you in the ass? Or, deeper down, do you know your sudden intoxication isn’t alcohol related at all? Vernon shoots back from you like you’ve gone up in flames and he might catch, too — his eyes search your face as you scramble to get to your feet, and he looks… scared. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. You don’t respond right away, already looking around the apartment for where you left your shoes, already trying to locate your bag too. (As you try to swim towards the surface, you forget that it wasn’t you who still had hold of it when you came through the door and placed it on the loveseat back in the living room.) “Hey… is everything-…?”

“I’m fine,” you interrupt. You’re not. “I just-… I remembered-… I have to go.” 

You catch sight of your shoes, hidden behind the ones Vernon kicked off just after you, and you hurry across the apartment to get to them. 

No bag. Where’s your bag? Where did you leave it? But… ah, your keys are in one back pocket and your phone is in the other and maybe it’s not the end of the world if you never see that lipstick again—

“It’s really late,” Vernon says as you bend down to re-tie one of your laces, hovering just a few steps behind you. “Are you gonna be okay to get home?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rush. “I’ll get a cab.”

“Well, at least let me wait with you until it—”

“I said I’m fine,” you insist, you snap, only now looking up at him again. He tenses, but his eyes stay soft. It’s not in the same way you’ve seen them all night, though. Not in a nice way. Not glittering and full of intrigue. No. He’s hurt. And like a wounded animal, he takes several stiff, unsure steps back away from you, swallowing hard and looking anywhere, everywhere else. 

“I’m fine,” you say again, trying to sound a little quieter, a little calmer.  Even if that is miles away from the truth. 

“Okay,” he says, unconvinced and wringing his hands in front of his stomach. “If-… I’m sorry if that was-… I didn’t mean to make you-…”

You shake your head, standing back up to your full height, but you don’t close the gap between you. You don’t reach out to him, even though you want to. You just have to blindly hope he can read your mind somehow — there’s no way to explain it quickly enough without leaving you both in a mess, and right now... 

“Hey,” you say, forcing him to look at you once more. “It’s not-… it isn’t you. I just have to go, okay?”

He doesn’t seem overly reassured by this, but he nods anyway. “Can-… you text me when you get home?” He asks. Then, hurried: “Just so I know you’re back safe. That’s all.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Yeah,” you say on an outward breath, cringing at how exasperated it sounds. You don’t mean it to — you’re really not mad at him. “I will. I’ll message you.”

Biting the inside of his bottom lip, Vernon takes another step back. He doesn’t say anything else, just shoves his hands as far into the pockets of his jeans as he can and watches you. 

“I’ll message you,” you repeat, opening the door, speaking more to yourself than to him. “I promise.” 

Then, you’re stumbling out into his hallway. Hurrying down the too-narrow staircase. Leaning your back against the brickwork outside, a light drizzle of rain splashing all over your bare arms. The stone prickles through your t-shirt as you slide down, as you feebly try to suck thick, damp air into your lungs, as your head starts to ache, as a dull throb starts to reside behind your eyes. 

It takes ten minutes of staring into the empty road in front of you before you feel steady enough to attempt to wrestle your phone out of your pocket. No matter how many buttons you press, no matter how many times you tap it, the screen refuses to come to life and you only now manage to recall the ‘low battery’ notification that came through several hours ago. Briefly, it crosses your mind to go back upstairs and ask if you can request a ride on Vernon’s phone. You know he’d say yes. Hell, he’d probably throw a blanket over your shivering shoulders and fix you another cup of coffee while you waited, too. But you can’t. The look on his face as you slid out his front door is burned into your memory like a brand and there surely couldn’t be anything worse than having to go back in there and face him like this.

Five more minutes pass before you find the energy to stand, to stretch out your bunched up muscles, and start on the walk home. Another thirty until you’re trudging, sodden and blurry eyed and heavy-hearted, through your apartment door. Three and a half after that before you finally manage to text Vernon to say your phone died, but you’re back, you’re safe. That you’re sorry. 

Barely ten seconds tick by before it pops up that he reads your message. (Followed by ninety seconds of staring down at the bubble that says he’s typing, waiting for a reply that ultimately doesn’t come.)

And four hours later, you’re still wide awake, lying under your covers, staring blankly up at the ceiling. You think you ought to be giddy, squirming, hiding your smile in your pillow — that’s how first kisses are supposed to make you feel. Isn’t it? Alas, you’re flooded instead with visions of the last time a first kiss felt like it made this much sense; in place of all the endorphins you’re sure should be ricocheting off every inner surface of your brain, all you know is heartache and dread. 

So you stare, and you stare, and you keep on staring; even when your eyes start to burn, you stare a little more. 

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. parts 2 and 3 are very nearly finished, as well, so stay tuned.<3

[dsireland86]

Hi! Could I request something with Matt? Where the reader and Matt always dance the line between friends and something more and it irritates the others that they keep denying it?

Thanks!

Another Matt One-Shot! Thank you 😊

Denial

Tags: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey

The box fell over, dumping most of its contents onto the floor. Y/N growled, frustrated with how the day was already going, and it wasn't even noon yet. She was starting to rethink her decision in helping Matt declutter the warehouse, thinking it would have been best if she'd just stayed in bed and shut the world out.

"Hey, let me help," came a soft voice. Matt bent down and helped Y/N toss the cables and extra pieces back into the box. 

"You alright? You seem a little stressed this morning." 

"Yeah," Y/N sighed. "Well, no. The water in my apartment building got turned off last night because of a busted pipe, leaving me with no shower, no coffee, and little tolerance."

"Shit, I'm sorry! Why didn't you say anything?"

Y/N shrugged. "Didn't want to complain, I guess. There's nothing you can do about it, unless you know how to fix a busted water pipe."

Matt grinned, draping an arm over her shoulder. He pulled her close, running his hand up and down the side of her shoulder. The sweet, affectionate gesture made Y/N's body shiver, stirring the pot of swirling emotions for Matt inside her.

"No, I can't, but I can offer you a hot shower and a hot cup of coffee over at my place once we're done here, if that'll help."

Y/N blushed, lowering her head to escape embarrassment.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"No, no, no, it's fine!" she assured him with a smile. "I really appreciate the offer."

Her fingers found Matt's fingers that were around her shoulder, briefly lacing them together. The way her touch made Matt feel was insatiable, causing him to shift from the increased pressure against his shorts.

"Yeah?" Matt's stomach flipped inside him, and his heart was pounding.

"Yeah," she smiled again.

Y/N picked up the box and carried it over to Matt's work table, sitting it down. She glanced Matt's way once more, grinning like a schoolgirl, before turning and walking away with the brightest smile on her face.

"Man, you've got to tell her, Matt. It's obvious she's into you," Noah stated, coming up behind him. He clamped his hand down on Matt's shoulder.

"Tell her what?"

Noah gawked at Matt. "Really?"

Matt shrugged.

"You like her. You know you do. She likes you. Why are you both denying it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Noah. I don't like her like that. Y/N and I are just friends. She's been talking to some other guy anyway, so yeah."

"So," Noah shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything."

Matt's face fell.

"Whatever. I'm not discussing my personal life with you right now. I've got too much on my mind.

"Dude, she likes you. You like her. Just admit it."

Matt sighed loudly.

"Whatever. Go," shooing Noah away.

Matt did like Y/N, a lot, but he was scared as hell to admit it. She didn't feel the same about him. There was no way. He was her boss and had been for almost a year, never picking up on any of the same vibes that he felt towards her. He was just trying to be nice, regardless of how crazy she made him feel.

Throughout the day, Y/N and Matt continued their weird awkwardness around each other. Whether it was apologizing to the other if they had accidently knocked into each other or hands brushing against hands as they reached for the same thing, Matt and Y/N were fighting the truth like a bull, choosing to stay in complete denial about their feelings for one another

"If they don't kiss or do something, soon, I'm gonna lose it," Jolly commented to Noah and Nick. "Have you seen the two of them today? What hell is up with that?"

The three looked over at Matt and Y/N, who were working through a box of computer parts together. Her giggles and his smiles were giving all of them tooth aches.

"God. Matt is being ridiculous," Nick chuckled.

Noah sighed, plopping down on the couch and stretching his long arms over the back. "Just wait. Something's going to happen. Knowing Matt, he won't be able to handle it much longer."

"Why do you say that?"

Noah raised an eyebrow, twisting the ring on his right hand.

"Matt's an impatient person. When he wants something, he'll just take it."

Jolly hummed. "So, what you're saying is that by tomorrow, Matt and Y/N will have slept together?"

Noah grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

"No way." Jolly disagreed.

"You wanna make a bet?"

Jolly narrowed his eyes, staring at Noah.

"Fifty dollars says she doesn't."

Noah stuck his hand out. "Deal."

"Hey, Y/N, you want this last Celsius in here," Folio asked, buried in the refrigerator.

"Mmm, I think that's Matt's. Doesn't he get really mad when people take his drinks, especially if it's the last one?"

Folio peered at her from around the side of the fridge. "Well, yeah, but it's you. He won't care."

"Who won't care about what?" Matt asked, casually forcing his way into the conversation.

"You won't care if Y/N takes your last can of Celsius."

"Oh, no, go ahead. Maybe it'll make up for that missing cup of coffee this morning." Matt winked at Y/N, making her smile.

"See," Folio noted. Y/N chuckled.

Matt stopped next to her and just stared at her for a moment.

"You okay?" she asked, skeptically.

He nodded as a small smile spread over his lips. Y/N grinned, looking down again.

"God, the two of you are ridiculous," Folio groaned, closing the fridge and handing Y/N the energy drink.

"Just fucking sleep together, already and put us all out of misery."

"Folio, what the fuck, dude!"

"What! It's obvious you two like each other."

"Oh, no," Y/N denied, shaking her head. Matt looked at her as if her words stung.

"Well," she shrugged nervously, "you're my boss. That's all."

Matt shoved his hands in his pockets, looking away.

"See, I'm her boss. Sleeping together would be out of the question," he stated, glancing over at Y/N, who opened the can of Celsius and took a long sip.

"These are the last two freaking boxes," Y/N sighed, dropping the ones in her arms with a thud. Matt gave her a stern look, raising an eyebrow.

"Hopefully, there's nothing valuable in there."

"Really? Matt, we've gone through forty boxes, and not one thing in any of them is valuable."

"Well, maybe forty-one and forty-two will be different."

"Make that forty-three," Nicholas corrected, dropping one more box on top of the other two.

"Ugh," Y/N groaned, scowling at Matt. "I just want to shower."

"Alright, look, take my keys," Matt said, pulling them from his pocket. "Take my car, go to your apartment and get whatever you need for your shower, then go to my house and take one. Use all the hot water if you want to, I don't care. I'll get one of the guys to bring me home."

Y/N stared at Matt, her eyes etched with curiosity.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to inconvenience you or anything."

"You're not. Honest," Matt assured her, with a soft grin.

Y/N's lips curled into a sweet smile, graciously accepting the offer.

"I won't make a mess. And I won't use all your hot water. You won't even know I was there."

Matt nodded, watching as Y/N turned around and walked out of the warehouse, silently hoping she would wreck his entire house.

Matt pulled the spare key out from the small box behind the planter, unlocking the door. His two boys greeted him with wagging tails and hand licks, so excited that dad was home and after plenty of pets, kisses, and outside potty breaks, Matt finally climbed the stairs to check if Y/N was still in the shower. It was quiet, not a trace of running water.

"Y/N?"

Matt checked the spare bathroom first, hoping Y/N didn't choose to use it; not when he had the huge walk in one in his bathroom. To his disappointment, she had, which honestly didn't surprise him.

"Y/N?" Matt called out again. Her stuff was still in the bathroom, so she had to be here somewhere.

Going back downstairs, Matt checked the kitchen and the living room, stopping immediately when he glanced over the couch. Y/N was curled up under a blanket, fast asleep. She was a beautiful sight to see, so relaxed and at peace, making Matt's heart race.Kneeling down next to her and gently brushing strands of hair away from her face, Matt watched Y/N sleep, focusing on all the pretty little things about her he had never noticed before. After a few minutes, he decided that a bed would better suit Y/N than the couch. Carefully lifting her, he carried her upstairs and laid her down gently in the comfort of his bed.

It was pitch black when Y/N awoke to the sound of silence. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked around, trying to figure out where she was. The touch of a hand on her lower back startled her, but the voice did not.

"Hey," came the sleepy voice of Matt as he rolled over on his side. By now the dim light from the hall seeped into the darkness, creating the right amount of light for them to see each other.

"Hey."

"You fell asleep on the couch."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to. I just,"

"It's fine, Y/N," Matt said, scooting closer to her. "You don't have to apologize."

"You sure?" Y/N sounded so uncertain that Matt was being honest and it bothered him.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Why do you always question me when I say it's okay?"

Matt sat up next to her, their shoulders touching. Her being this close to him was really messing with his head and his heart.

"I don't know," Y/N, huffed a laugh looking away. But Matt stopped her.

"And why do you always look away from me when I'm trying to be nice to you," laying his hand over her cheek to pull her back so that he could look at her.

Through the soft glow of the moon and the hall lights, Y/N never looked more beautiful to Matt than she did right now, with messy hair and sleepy eyes. He was captivated by her, afraid to look anywhere else but at her. His thumb trailed back and forth over her lips as they continued staring at one another and the utter silence was the perfect setting for the light sound of only their heartbeats.

Matt's eyes darted between Y/N's.

"How have I never noticed how beautiful you are?"

Y/N shrugged. "I'm pretty average."

"Whatever. Don't even pretend you don't know how incredibly sexy and amazing you are."

Y/N just stared at Matt. "If you say so."

"I do. You're pretty perfect."

"Oh god, Matt! I'm a ridiculous mess," Y/N groaned, bringing her hands to her face.

"Hey, no you're not. Come here." Matt pulled Y/N towards him, shifting their bodies until she was sitting between his legs, up against his chest.

"Good?" 

Y/N nodded, leaning all the way back against him. Matt was warm and comfortable, making it even better when his arms came around and wrapped around her.

"Is this okay?"

... "Better than okay," she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder.

Matt leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the side of her temple. The feeling of his lips on her skin made Y/N shiver.

"Goosebumps," Matt whispered against her ear, his hands trailing up and down her arms.

"Matt," she whimpered in the dark, her voice trembling.

He kissed the side of her face and this time she tilted her head so he could get a better angle. The feeling of Matt's lips gliding along her skin made Y/N clench her thighs together. This was wrong. He was her boss, her friend. But why did it feel so right?

"Matt, what are we?" she softly asked as his hands found hers.

"We don't have to be anything. I'm tired of people trying to label us."

"You know the others already think we're something, right?

"I had a feeling."

"Are they right?"

"You tell me, Y/N," Matt answered, lacing his fingers through hers. She shifted, turning around and facing him.

"I think you know what we are, Matt. I think you just want me to be the first to say it."

Matt clenched his jaw tight, unable to hide the way his body was reacting towards her. He was dying to tell her the truth, yet scared she'd run away. But then she surprised him by wrapping her arms around his neck and throwing her legs on either side of him, pulling herself up into his lap. Y/N gasped lightly the moment she felt his hard length press against her core, causing Matt to grunt.

"Then say it, Y/N. Tell me what we are, what you want, and I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

The desperate, yet promising look in Matt's eyes was enough for Y/N. With her arms around his neck, she leaned into him and kissed him, softly at first, hoping this wasn't a mistake. She pulled back, looking at Matt's reaction. His eyes were blown wide with surprise yet with a hungry need for more.

"I can't lie anymore, Matt. I want you, and not just as a one night stand."

Matt smiled, slipping his hands around her face, pulling her back in for another heated kiss, this time harder.

"I'm all yours baby. I'm not going anywhere," he promised, pulling back for a moment to look at her. "And fuck, don't ever stop looking at me like the way you are right now."

Y/N giggled, throwing herself back into another kiss with Matt.

"Baby, I can't hold back anymore," Matt groaned the second she pressed her core harder against his erection. "I want you, right here, now," he panted between her kisses.

"Then take me, Matt. I'm yours."

Matt gazed at her for a moment, hoping that what she was saying was true.

"You're serious? No fucking with my head?"

Y/N smiled, grabbing the waistband of her shorts and pulling them off her. Because it was dark, Matt couldn't see her, but he didn't have to. Y/N took his hand and placed it directly between her legs, letting him feel how wet she was for him.

"I'm yours, Matthew. Only yours."

With neither one of them denying their feelings any longer, her promise was all Matt needed. Slipping two fingers instantly inside her, he claimed Y/N as his by making her cum on just his fingers alone. It was unlike anything Matt had ever felt before. She made him feel powerful, fully in charge and capable of anything. Their love making for the first time changed everything for both of them. There was no fear, no questions, just wanting and love, neither one of them able to get enough of the other. The room was filled with nothing but moonlight and moans, cries of passion and groans of ecstasy mixed with the smell of sweat and sex. It was unlike anything they had ever experienced. It was love; pure, undoubting, unwavering love.

[theemporium]

Werewolf landoscar request: both boys being clingy bc you’ve had to be away for a while (maybe in heat?)

Chuffed you’re in your Oscar era xx

-🥀

we don't talk about my oscar era🤠thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t join them on the race weekend, it was your work’s fault.

Your boss seemed to have it out for you the day she made the rota and, despite the time off you vividly remember requesting and being approved, your name was on the schedule all weekend with no hope of you switching shifts with one of your colleagues. 

The boys had been upset when you told them. Oscar had suggested showing the approved time-off form to your boss in a meeting. Lando had suggested quitting your job and letting them take care of you. You had taken neither boy up on their suggestions because you knew how each option would work out—and it didn’t seem worth the hassle. 

However, between work projects and an overbearing boss, you hadn’t really noticed the shift in the boys’ behaviour on the calls. 

It seemed normal whenever you managed to call them after your shifts, when they were curled up in bed and ready to go to sleep but stayed up to catch up with you. Lando would ramble away, taking over most of the conversation whilst Oscar was happy to just nod along and pipe in every few minutes. They could fight over who held the phone, who was taking up more of the screen, who got to say goodbye last. 

It seemed normal because your boys were always clingy, so the amped up neediness wasn’t easy to spot through a screen. 

But when they were back home? It was a whole other story. 

You knew they had a late flight out after the race on Sunday. You knew they would be landing early in the morning, that they would probably be home when you woke up. You were looking forward to spending your day off with them after a week of missing your boys. 

What you weren’t expecting to wake up in the middle of the night, the first cracks of daylight breaking through the horizon as you heard two voices whispering away to each other.

“Mate, you’re gonna wake her up.”

“Did you just ‘mate’ me?” 

“Yeah, dude.”

“Oh my god.”

You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room before you saw both boys standing at the end of the bed. Their bags were nowhere to be seen—most likely abandoned by the door—and they were dressed in their plane clothes. They both looked exhausted, beyond the kind that you were used to seeing on their faces after races. 

This was something else entirely.

“Too late, I’m already awake,” you grumbled, catching both boys’ attention as their heads snapped towards you. 

In all honesty, you expected it to play out the way your reunions usually did. Lando would make some snarky comment about how lonely it must have been without them. Oscar would tell you how much he missed you, which would prompt Lando to do the same before he complained about the way Oscar moved too much in his sleep and you weren’t there to ground him like you usually did. And then they would crawl into bed, muttering away promises that they would shower in the morning when you scrunched your nose at the fact they hadn’t even changed. 

However, instead of your usual routine, pitiful whines—ones that almost sounded pained—filled the room before both boys were crawling into bed next to you. You barely had a chance to say a word before the heat of two extremely warm bodies were pressed up on either side of you. 

Oscar’s hands had already slipped beneath your shirt, pressing against your bare skin before he pulled you closer. Lando’s curls tickled your chin as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, another whine leaving his lips as he tangled his legs between yours. 

“Jesus,” you murmured, shifting a little but quickly freezing when both boys whined again. “What’s up with you two?”

“Just missed you,” Oscar mumbled, his lips grazing against your arm as he nuzzled himself closer into your side. “Don’t like it when we’re away from you.”

“And Oscar said no to shifting in the hotel,” Lando added, something like frustration in his voice because you knew his shifted form was a comfort when he was in one of his moods. 

“Because you ripped the sheets and pillows last time,” Oscar retorted with a huff, and something about it made you smile as he pressed a kiss to your wrist between his words. “You aren’t careful.”

“Whatever,” Lando grumbled, because he knew Oscar was right.

“You can shift in the morning,” you promised because having them in human form where they already felt like furnaces was bad enough, you couldn’t imagine having a huge wolf curled into your side right now. “Get some sleep first, okay?”

“M’kay,” Lando muttered, already sounding half asleep as he snuggled further into your embrace.

“Love you,” Oscar whispered, quiet and a little doubtful as he tensed beside you. Like he needed to hear it before he could fall asleep.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, letting your hand reach down for his to intertwine your fingers. “Love you both.”

.

[prismartist]

It's not uncommon for worlds to collide. Lines get crossed, voids meld, portals malfunction. And when gods and magic are far from few, it's easy to see why.

Still, when the Syndicate comes across five astronauts, tied together and floating rather calmly in the void, they're not any less surprised.

"Uh," Phil calls out, "hello?"

The astronauts––at least, they look like astronauts, though their yellow suits look too battered to actually work––turn to look. They blink, baffled.

"How are you standing like that?" one of them asks, ink-black eyes squinting. He clutches a dark purple egg to his chest.

"Like what?" Niki asks.

"You're just... standing," another astronaut says, this one mustachioed. "How are you just standing in the middle of the void?"

"We're walking somewhere," Connor says.

"Why, can't you guys walk?" Phil asks.

"Not to our knowledge," says a female astronaut. She's floating completely upside down, almost lying down mid-air, her head tilted back to look at the Syndicate. Her eyes are a solid color, like the one with black eyes, but hers are a bright silver. Between the two of them, they're extremely creepy. "And we rather like floating, to be honest."

Suddenly a look of recognition comes over Kristin, and She gasps. "Oh, you guys are the Boatem Hermits! You made it out!" She says.

"Yeah, we are. We did." An astronaut with a smooth American voice says slowly. "Wait, do we know you?"

"Not really. But I've seen you guys around. It's nice to see you're okay. I had complete faith in you guys."

"Thank you, lady we've never met!" another American astronaut pipes up cheerfully.

Phil leans towards Kristin. "Sorry, who are they?"

"Their world was crushed recently by the moon," Kristin explains. "I haven't had time to check up on them, but I wasn't too worried." She looks back at the astronauts––Boatem, apparently. "Are the others okay?"

At that the astronauts lapse into a somber silence. "We're not sure," the mustachioed one mutters. "We were all in a bit of a rush."

The rest hum in agreement, and then are silent again.

"Our world was destroyed too," Niki says. "I mean, not by the moon, but by a nuke."

"Ah, classic," the first American murmurs.

"I... guess? But we get it, not knowing if... if there's anything, or anyone left. It's kind of scary."

"Yeah. But I'm sure the rest of your friends got out fine," Phil pipes up. "I mean if we all did, then surely they did as well."

"This sheep also survived." Connor gestures to Rosie. "If a sheep can survive, so can the rest of your friends."

"That's... strangely very comforting," the black-eyed one says.

"Thanks."

"Well, I hope you all get to the next world soon. I'm afraid we have to keep moving, but I will see you guys around." Kristin turns to the Syndicate. "We should keep going."

"Will they be okay staying here?" Niki asks.

"Oh yeah, they'll be fine. They've been around for longer than you guys have."

"Oh yeah, we've been doing just swell here, all things considered!" the second American assures. Upon closer inspection there appears to be a sleeping cat in his helmet. That's... normal. "You can just toddle on your way, don't mind us. But thank you for your words of wisdom, random void passersby!"

"Sure thing dude," Connor says, giving a thumbs up. Rosie baas.

"Alright, well. Nice to meet you guys," Phil waves and chuckles as Kristin leads them away.

"Bye!" Niki does the same. The astronauts all wave and say their farewells, and soon they're merely another speck of dust in the endless black.

Distantly, the shrill shriek of the black-eyed astronaut rings out, "Wait, we don't even need suits!"

[ad0rechuu]

ᝰ MY OH MY. ━━ (000) prologue: the next bet

WORD COUNT. 837

WARNINGS. swearing ofc! mentions of alcohol/weed, violence, crying and yn isn’t being respected

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

POUNDING MUSIC AND FLASHING LIGHTS.

It wasn’t impressive at all. It was just another frat party on another Friday night with the same people that were drinking their worries away in the same massive frat house, celebrating the weekend.

Sunwoo sighed as he looked around the dance floor, earning a couple of confused looks when they noticed his uncharacteristically annoyed expression. He was never one to be a party pooper, often ending up the main entertainment after a few too many drinks. But this time, alcohol wasn’t close to crossing his mind.

He threw his cup in his friend's hand as soon as he heard the infuriating news by two fratbros in passing.

No matter how many times he scanned the room for the outfit you so graciously showed off to him on your way to the party, you were absolutely nowhere to be seen. Panic settled in as he maneuvered his way between wasted people to get to the stairs.

His hands rested on his knees after he reached the top, catching his breath while still frantically looking around.

In the corner of his eye he saw the back of a familiar figure going around the corner at the very end of the long hallway. Sunwoo quickly shot up as he followed you, finally finding you in front of an open door to a random room.

“Where the hell—” He started with a loud voice the moment he met your eyes.

You shushed him and quickly grabbed the front his shirt, pulling him closer and out of sight of whoever was inside of the room.

When you were sure he wasn’t going to attract any unwanted attention, you leaned closer to the door frame. Sunwoo followed you actions and leaned over your shoulder.

“Dude! I can’t believe you got her to date you! Isn’t she really cold?” Someone laughed, the smell of cheap weed hitting you two.

A sting pierced your already rapidly beating heart when you heard the second voice.

“Actually she pretty sweet.” He responded. “But when am I getting my money? All I had to do was ask her out and kiss her right?”

Sunwoo felt his cheeks heat up out of anger at their words.

The familiar faces laughed again as your so-called ‘boyfriend’ made a money sign with his free hand.

Someone else piped up, “You would get 64000 won for the bet right? Let me up the scale!”

“What are you thinking?” Yeonjun took a sip of his beer and leaned forward, intrigued by his friend's suggestion.

Even just that simple action made your blood boil. You felt Sunwoo try to get passed you, probably to yell at them. But you kept him in place with a stern look. No matter how much it might hurt, you had to hear what the next bet was going to be.

For your own sanity.

“Make Yn fall in love with you! If you can get her to say ‘I love you’ to you first, before the school year ends, I’ll give you 128010 won plus the 64000 won he owes you.” His friend stuck out his hand in Yeonjun's direction, smirking. “That is if you can actually do it.”

Yeonjun’s eyes sparkled with a competitiveness that you used to think was love as he calculated the numbers in his head. “That’s like 150 dollars! I’ll take that bet!”

“She already likes me and I have plenty of time, this will be piece of cake! Say goodbye to your money, Tae!” He cackled, unknowingly breaking your already fragile heart.

Not being able to bear hearing anymore of their crude words about you, you stormed off, leaving a boiling Sunwoo standing there, stunned at their behavior.

Sunwoo was never a fighter. The few times he did get in fights, he was black out drunk and got his ass handed to him nearly right away. But after seeing your expression, he wanted nothing more than to go inside of that room and beat his so-called ‘friend’ to a pulp. His adrenaline told him he could do it.

But he didn’t. He knew you wouldn’t want that. And instead of more worries, you just needed him to be there for you. So he quickly followed you down stairs.

When you both reached the ground floor, he had finally caught up with you. He grabbed your hand to stop you in your tracks and gently turned you to him. Heavy black mascara stained your face and your cheeks were hot from emotion as you avoided his worried eyes.

He could feel his own heart break just at the mere sight of you like this.

Forcing himself to give you a small smile, he held your hand in his and led you out of the big, crowded house, not caring about anybody but you in the moment.

Although Sunwoo didn’t get to beat Yeonjun up as he wished, he was sure that you two would get revenge on the campus's pretty boy for what he did to you.

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NOTES. (make sure to check out the previous chapter for the profiles if u haven’t already) yeonjun and txt are assholes i’m sorry but there is always more than meets the eye (or is there? 🤨) also sunwoo the yn protect lol BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave lots of feedback i really need it esp on the written chapters and it keeps me motivated (not just with some with all writers)

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