#maybe you’re a little tipsy and you saw it in an arcade machine and knew you had to win it

[kingkatsuki]

You know Bakugou has an entire collection of All Might figures, but imagine the first time as a Pro-Hero that he sees one of himself. Maybe it’s in an arcade or a shop window, and he just knows he has to have it.

So he ends up bringing it home and placing it beside his favourite hero on his All Might shelf, because it’s a sign he’s finally achieving his dreams.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Sending you all my hugs 🥰🥰🥰😍 How about...Buddie having the time of their lives being absolute shit at arcade games.

I remember I asked for fluffy prompts the night my boss passed away. That was months ago but I did not forget. Thank you everyone who sent me prompts while I was processing some tough emotions.

911/Buddie 

1v1 Co-op Matchmaking

Read on Ao3

“Are you sure this is the place?” Eddie tried to peer through one of the windows with the scratched off signage but the tinted glass made it impossible to see anything beyond vague shapes in evenly marked spaces.

“Absolutely.” Buck joined him in looking through the glass but seemed to be satisfied with what he saw there. “I found this place my first year in L.A.” He went on to explain as Eddie followed him to the blacked out double doors. “I promise you’re going to love it.”

As with most things in Eddie’s life, he had no choice but to follow his partner. He entered first, a blast of cool air hitting his face, bringing with it the scent of French fries and old pennies. Beyond the sound of whirs and buzzes was quiet chatter and the occasional exclamation of excitement or disappointment (usually accompanied by a string of barely recognizable curses – no doubt, due to the ‘No Swearing’ sign hanging on the cash register in the corner). All around him were a collection of game machines in nearly straight aisles reaching several rows down and across. Interspersed between the machines were tables and chairs with folded signs informing guests that food and drinks were not to be taken to the game machines.

“It’s an arcade.” Eddie dumbly informed his friend.

Buck stood beside him, chest puffed with pride as he examined the terrain. “One of the last in the city that hasn’t been overrun by hipsters.”

“So you’re saying you found this place before it was cool?” Eddie strolled towards the register knowing Buck would be glaring at him all the way. As predicted, Buck paid for both of them and converted twenty dollars into quarters for the two of them two split.

“Oh, this place is old school.” Eddie, once again, exclaimed the obvious while pocketing his share of the coins. “How did you find this place?” he asked as they wandered the aisles looking for their first game. “I didn’t think you would be old enough to remember ‘Ms. Pacman’.”

Buck bumped his shoulder with a playful gasp. “You are being so mean to me today.” He chided before falling more somber. “When I first moved here and started training, I needed a place to study. I had, like, six roommates so there was no way I could concentrate there. So, I wandered around looking for something a little less chaotic and I found this place.”

“And this place was quieter than your house?” Eddie hadn’t lived with roommates in a few years – not since his army days – but he couldn’t imagine one house being that overwhelming.

“No.” Buck rolled his eyes at Eddie’s internal monologue. “I ended up at the library a few blocks away. But I came here once or twice when I needed to get out of the house. Obviously, work keeps me pretty busy, but I like coming here from time to time.”

All of it made sense, but Eddie heard the softness in his friend’s tone, the way he spoke about this place as though it were something precious. He was being handed a gift and he would not turn it down.

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” When Buck looked up at his partner through long eyelashes (when did he start noticing Buck’s eyelashes?), Eddie felt goosebumps rise and wash down his body. Like awakening from a long nap, his limbs tingled and he felt every step as they continued their journey to find the perfect game.

It wasn’t the first time he felt that flash of lightning through his veins at the sight of his friend – he was a single man and his partner was very attractive – but it had been happening more often than he cared to admit. Noticing the little details of Buck’s appearance (his eyelashes, for example) was new. Feeling his heart beat faster and his skin burn with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time…was less new. In fact, Eddie was nearly ready to put a label on the feelings stirring in his chest.

Last winter, when his sisters were visiting and the three siblings got to have a big family dinner with all the cousins and aunts and uncles, he’d spent a little too long talking about Buck. Or, maybe, Christopher had. Either way, Sophia managed to corner him in the kitchen after dessert had knocked out the majority of the children, and asked Eddie how long he’d been with Buck. Romantically. It was sometime after midnight (and a bottle of wine between the three of them) that Eddie finally admitted to both of his sisters that he had feelings for his best friend. Adriana had cooed and asked if Buck felt the same and, on some tipsy instinct, he’d answered “Yes.”

Of course, he didn’t know for certain – he’d never come out and said “Hey, Buck, I want to bend you over the railing and then grow old with you. What do you say?” – but he knew Buck. He knew Buck better than anyone (Maddie might give him a run for his money, but he’s fairly certain there’s a few stories Buck hasn’t told his sister about his time travelling the country). When that man loved, he loved with all his heart, and Eddie figured out a long time ago that Buck had given at least part of himself to the Diaz boys. Why not his heart?

So, yes, Eddie had a pretty good idea of how he felt, and was nearly certain that Buck felt the same way. And now, they were standing in an arcade – the location of which Buck hadn’t shared with anyone else in his life – occasionally making extended eye contact through the aisles. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’. It was a matter of ‘when’.

So now, when not staring longingly into his friend’s eyes, Eddie scanned the names listed above each game. Some of the names were ones he recognized (‘Frogger’, ‘Pacman’, the aforementioned ‘Ms. Pacman’, ‘Centipede’). Others, were less familiar (‘Inferno’, ‘Dig Dug’, ‘1942’) and looked…confusing. His eye caught on a ‘Space Invaders’-looking game and he called his partner to his side.

“Want to be a member of the ‘Moon Patrol’?” He bumped Buck’s shoulder with the smile he reserved just for his friend, and dug for a quarter.

“Nope!” Buck declared as he retrieved his own quarter and inserted it into the appropriate slot, bumping Eddie out of the way so he could stand centered at the controls. “I call first game!”

Though he rolled his eyes in annoyance, Eddie took the loss as an opportunity to watch his partner work. He loved watching Buck work (nearly as much as he enjoyed working beside him). There were times when the man’s focus was hypnotizing. The firm set of his jaw, the piercing eyes that seemed unblinking, the way every part of his body tensed in concentration. He’d seen Buck excited, anxious, worried, panicked, even numb – when it came to the uncontrollable dangers of their job, they had been through a lot together. Every emotion showed Eddie how much his friend cared about his work.

This expression, however, was one he doubted many other members of the Los Angeles Fire Department had seen on the young firefighter. It was one Eddie had been privy to on more than one occasion when Christopher had brought over a particularly difficult puzzle or science question. He wasn’t sure he was ever meant to see it but he happened to be standing in the doorway after putting away leftovers from dinner and he’d seen it: the desire to win, the earnest focus, the eagerness and seriousness of his intent. The first time he saw, it was an accident.  Every other time he rushed to finish his chores whenever he thought that face might emerge… that was less of an accident.

He was pulled from his fond musings by a minor key jingle and light-hearted groan of disappointment.

“Only got to Point Q on the Champion Course.” Buck exclaimed, throwing his hands in defeat.

Eddie couldn’t help himself – or at least, that’s what he told himself. His partner was too genuine. But that was one of his favourite things about the man. Where Eddie could usually keep his outward appearance neutral in the face of adversity (a skill he’d used nearly every day since joining the LAFD), Buck never shied away from letting his face show just exactly what was on his mind – even if he never said anything.

And so, Eddie laughed. Only a small chuckle, but his heart never felt so light as when he was with Buck. It was easy to see, however, that his laugh could be misconstrued as mocking. Perhaps it was both.

“Think you can do better?” The newly-defeated champion bowed and offered the center position to his friend and Eddie stepped into place with another fond eyeroll (he made a mental note to ask his optometrist if too many eyerolls could cause nerve damage).

All right, Eddie thought as he tried to get a handle on the controls, so it wasn’t as easy as he thought. The joystick was rigid and the control pad was sticky and the graphics were definitely from an era long-passed. If he hadn’t been raised with an infinite amount of patience (according to his aunt), he might have given up. As it was, he died before reaching the first checkpoint.

Buck’s laughter could not be interpreted as anything other than mocking, and he didn’t bother to hide it. “You are truly terrible.” He informed Eddie with a slap on the shoulder.

Though he knew he didn’t need an excuse, it was too easy to play when Buck was around. “I’m used to the console at home. Unlike some people, I don’t spend my time playing with technology from the Reagan-era.”

“Well then let me show you.” Before Eddie could properly interpret Buck’s offer, the man had come to stand behind him, chin hovering over his shoulder, arms palming his elbows and guiding him back towards the console. “One more round.” Buck declared, enthusiastically. At his prompting, Eddie gripped the joystick and placed his hands just above the cluster of buttons on his left side. The now-familiar starting music began and Eddie focused all of his energy into game before him. Every few moments, he heard Buck mutter a command or offer advice and he took it without question. The joystick was still rigid and the buttons were still sticky but together, they made it to the second checkpoint. And then the third. By the fourth, Eddie had all but forgotten the world around them. The only things that existed were Eddie, the game, and Buck’s voice in his ear. It was soothing, almost, to fall into that rhythm. So long as he navigated the bumpy terrain and dodged the alien invasion, nothing else mattered.

Until he missed jumping over a landmine and was blown to smithereens.

“Damn!” Buck’s voice was suddenly too close. The air around him electrified on an exhale and the heat of his chest warmed Eddie to his core. As quickly as the world had fallen away in Buck’s arms, it came rushing back, more vibrant and alive than before. Every sound of electronics whirring, Buck’s steady breathing, and people shouting – even the rumble of the cars outside the arcade – was amplified. Every smell of old metal, sweat, and smoke hidden under Buck’s aftershave was overwhelming. Every touch of his scratchy jeans, the clammy plastic in his hand, and the warm presence at his back, made Eddie close his eyes to shut out one of his senses. The only one left was taste.

Buck and Eddie had held each other plenty of times over the years. They were partners and friends who worked in close contact with one another. At the end of a hard day, in the middle of a daring rescue, at the beginning of a heated glance as they stood in front of a game machine. They had shaken hands, hugged tightly, gripped for dear life at the edge of a cliff, even bumped shoulders often enough that he had a Buck-shaped indent near his heart. But standing in this loose hold – the other man’s arms barely brushing his, his back pressed against the other’s front – Eddie had never felt the overwhelming urge to taste more fervently than he did in that moment.

He knew that Buck was an attractive man – he was repressed, he wasn’t dead – and though he’d been contemplating thinking about maybe working up to taking some next step, he hadn’t counted on standing in Buck’s arms and feeling his heart flutter like a school girl with a crush.

Upon slowly dragging his eyes to meet his friend’s Eddie found himself breathlessly overtaken by the sensation of hope. Buck’s eyes were bright and round (earnest, just as he’d known them to be) His eyelashes closed and opened slowly, seemingly disbelieving of his circumstance. If Eddie knew Buck as well as he hoped he did, then there was a question in his friend’s eyes that was begging to be asked. A question Eddie was more than happy to answer.

“We make a pretty good team.” He felt his own breath reverberate off of Buck’s cheek and it stuttered in time with his heart.

“I’ve always thought so.” Buck’s lips twitched with suppressing a smile.

Then, came the moment of truth. Eddie felt a brief flicker of panic as he took one last breath before diving in.

“What should we do about it?”

In reality, Buck only contemplated his response for a few seconds but for Eddie, the silence stretched for years – three years, in fact. He felt the world move in slow motion and within it, he watched as Buck’s face flicked with a thousand emotions: fear, anxiety, excitement, contentment, desire, hope, doubt; finally, he settled on quiet happiness.

“I think we need to find a game we can play together. As partners. What do you say?”

As if there were any other response, Eddie smiled at Buck. “Partners.”

The rest of their time at the arcade was locked away, inaccessible to even Eddie, who recalled nothing more than laughter and flirtatious eye contact as they made their way through the aisles of games. At the end of the night, Eddie would get down the block before turning back to Buck’s door. He would run a nervous hand through his hair while he knocked with the other, and waited for the answer. And then, he would blush as he asked if Buck wanted to go on a date with him tomorrow. Buck would blush harder and assure Eddie that he would happily attend, but warn that he no longer kissed on the first date.

But maybe on their second date tomorrow, he’d get lucky.

[withnosuchgrace]

Soft (M)

(sequel to White Noise and Sing For You) 

A/N: so uhhhhh this was supposed to be just a drabble ......but i kinda got carried away (as usual). this is my first time writing smut lmao i was dying the whole time but i hope you enjoy!! 

special shoutout to @dragonsfire @sherlockedwhovian09 @delta-cubes and @chenderellastrash for putting up with me constantly complaining and dying over this mess of a fic. you guys have definitely made this easier to endure lmao i had like 5 breakdowns writing this

also special shoutout to @doitforjin for making the nicest moodboard????? based on this whole au ?????? that i am so undeserving of but im crying thank you soososos much :’)))) 

genre: fluff, some smut, garage band!chanyeol, neighbour!chanyeol

word count: 6147

(gif used if not mine)

Dating Chanyeol had its perks, but also its cons. Perks included getting exclusive first listens to the songs the band was working on, going to all his gigs for free, and of course, wearing his greatly oversized clothing every chance you got. It also didn’t hurt that he lived right next door, something you never knew how to appreciate until you began falling for him. The cons stemmed from the same places as the pros - you hardly got to see him because he was constantly practicing, and you’d be studying. After that big gig they had last November, White Noise’s popularity boosted, and the band was doing small tours in neighbouring cities, and while you couldn’t be more proud of them, having seen them start from the bottom, you couldn’t help but be disheartened about the timing. You and Chanyeol had barely gotten together and he was off touring with his best friends and you missed him dearly.

All of it was worth it, though, for Chanyeol was head over heels for you, just as you were for him. Every time you saw him, a smile would immediately form on your lips and your stomach would fill with butterflies, causing your heart to flutter and go all soft. How on earth could you have hated him for years when he was literally the cutest and softest giant on earth?  

Every chance you could, you would be in his presence, whether it be in his garage with him teaching you how to play the guitar, or him lying on your bed as you both studied for an upcoming test, only being interrupted by the surprise kisses he would give you whenever he got bored.

You smiled unconsciously to yourself as you thought of Chanyeol, feeling all warm inside, until a voice burst your bubble.

“Are you going to keep smiling to yourself like a loser or are you going to take this shot?”

You shook your head as you came back to reality - a reality that included sitting on a stool in Billie’s kitchen as she poured shot after shot. You weren’t much of a drinker, but for some reason or another you had agreed to drink with your best friend and Martina, a new friend you had made who recently moved in with Baekhyun and Sehun, although that was a whole other story for another day.  

Martina spoke next, looking at you incredulously. “She’s barely had anything and she’s already tipsy.”

“Who knew a tipsy (Y/N) would mean a soft mess?” Billie mused, taking her own shot with a grimace. “She hasn’t shut up about Chanyeol for twenty minutes now!”

At the mention of his name, you pouted. “I just love him so much. And he’s gone chasing his dreams again and I miss him so mu-” before you could finish your sentence, Billie was pushing the shot glass right under your nose.

“Girl, it’s okay, I miss Kai, too. And I bet Martina misses Baekhyun as well.”

Martina snorted. “As if. Do you know how great it is to have the apartment to myself?”

Billie ignored her, instead focusing on your still evident frown. “Besides, they’re coming home tonight! You’ll see your boyfriend soon enough!”

You immediately beamed at that. “Yes! And then Yeollie and I can cuddle on the couch and he can tell me about his tour and I can tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me -” again, your long confession was interrupted, this time by your phone ringing.

You picked it up eagerly, after seeing “the tol one <3” displayed across your screen.

“Yeollie~” you greeted in a chirpy tone, one that made Chanyeol immediately laugh upon hearing it. You only ever called him Yeollie, or spoke to him like this when you were drinking.

“Jagi~” he greeted with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“Are you almost home yet?”

“Yeah, about that…” Chanyeol hesitated. “The boys wanted to go out to celebrate the end of the tour so I’m actually going to be back later than expected.”

You frowned. “But I miss you!”

“I miss you too! I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? First thing in the morning!”

“Okay,” You mumbled, still pouting, causing Chanyeol to chuckle.

“Now please don’t drink too much. You know you’re a lightweight, and I doubt that’s any fun for Billie and Martina.”

“How do you know I’m drinking?” you gasped, looking wide eyed around the room. “Can you read my mind? Are we soulmates?”

Chanyeol simply laughed, finding your little intoxicated antics adorable. “Maybe we are.” there was a pause, followed by a faint C’mon Chan! heard in the background. “Listen, (Y/N), I gotta go. But I’ll see you first thing tomorrow! I love you!”

“I love you, too. Bye!”

You sighed as you hung up, feeling a little down that you wouldn’t be seeing your boyfriend tonight. You picked up the shot glass and downed it within seconds, much to Martina’s amusement. Slamming the glass back down on the counter, you cried “another!”

You knew you would be gone to the world within minutes if you kept up like this, but you didn’t care. As long as it made waiting for Chanyeol easier.

Chanyeol still had a lovesick smile on his face as he hung up the phone and turned around, only to see his bandmates snickering and casting him gazes.

He pocketed his phone and walked towards his friends, taking a seat at the stool next to Sehun, while Baekhyun leaned against the bar, drink already in hand, and Kai just getting handed his. “What is it?”

“Who knew the day would come when Chanyeol became a total softie.” Baekhyun let out a chuckle.

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at him. “Me? A softie? What are you talking about?”

“Looks like our guitarist is losing his edge.” Sehun smirked. “I totally called it. The moment he got together with (Y/N), he’s been like a lovesick puppy.”

“No way! You guys are hallucinating or something, there’s no way I’m soft or whatever. I’m still the coolest member, and y’all are just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Baekhyun scoffed, just as Sehun guffawed at the mention of “coolest”.

“Kai’s soft too! He’s been calling and messaging Billie every day of the tour!” Chanyeol accused, pointing at the bassist, who had been quietly standing on the side and observing the scene with an amused twinkle in his chocolate eyes, sipping at his beer.

“Yeah, but I’ve always been soft! This was expected of me!” Kai defended himself with a smug smile. “You, on the other hand, had this whole bad boy reputation before (Y/N).”

Chanyeol’s lip twisted into an annoyed grimace. He hated that they were right. He really had gotten soft, but he couldn’t help it! You just made him feel so happy and he still could not believe he was with you! He wouldn’t dare let his mates know they were right, though, and so he instead sat up a little straighter and looked defiant as he said his next words.

“I can still be manly, no matter what.”

“Define manly.” Baekhyun immediately rebutted.

“Is your masculinity that fragile?” Sehun rolled his eyes as he took gulp of his drink. “Just say you’re insecure about being soft and go.”

Chanyeol’s frown deepened. “Okay, let’s make a bet.”

This caught all of their attention and they turned towards him with piqued interest.

“A bet, you say?” a smile was already stretching on Kai’s face, his competitive nature seeping through his usual calm exterior. “I’m listening.”

“So am I.” Baekhyun agreed. “What do you have in mind?”

Chanyeol faltered, not expecting them to be on board right away. “Oh… I - um… I’m not sure yet.”

At this, they sighed, and went back to their drinks.

“We can’t just let this go, though.” Kai spoke first after a long pause, his competitiveness still not completely abandoning him yet.

Baekhyun nodded in agreement. “For real, we need to make this bet count. What’s at stake here?”

“Something big.” Kai grinned, mischievously. “Like, perhaps getting a tattoo?”

Chanyeol immediately shook his head, eyes wide in fear of the possibility of getting something they wanted permanently inked and he would most likely regret. “Dude, no, that’s way too intense for a stupid bet.”

“Okay, what about dyeing hair, then?” Sehun offered. “You could always dye it back or it’ll fade so it’s, like, not true commitment.”

“Yes, kinda like a one night stand!” Baekhyun had a proud smile on his face at his analogy, although he only received odd looks from his friends.

“Anyways,” Sehun continued, with a sigh, clearly ignoring Baekhyun’s comment. He was used to the red-haired singer’s remarks, having lived with him for over three years. “What do you think?”

“Easy,” Kai smiled, already confident.

Chanyeol, however pondered this. While Kai had recently dyed his hair silver for the tour, it had been a while since Chanyeol had anything other than dark brown. The last time Chanyeol had dyed his hair it had been during his emo days, and it was a mess that he wished he could avoid.

It was still better than getting tattooed, which was why he found himself nodding along with Kai, ready to suffer the consequences of failing this bet.

“Alright, that settles it then.” Baekhyun clapped his hands together in finality. “Now we just have to figure out what we’re actually going to do.”

“Well, since Chan is so adamant about proving how manly he is, or whatever, why don’t we go find those strength-testing arcade machines? The weakest has to dye his hair.”  

The others nodded at Kai’s words.

Sehun pulled out his phone and began to search for any arcades still open at his late hour.

Chanyeol was not worried. He knew he was strong. Maybe Kai could take him, but there was no way he was going to lose to Sehun. The drummer was pretty thin and had always shown a great distaste in any physical activity, other than dance that is, but Chanyeol didn’t really count that. What was the point of being an amazing dancer if he wasn’t even going to show anyone? Sehun was so complicated, but that didn’t mean Chanyeol was going to allow himself to be beaten by him.

He smirked to himself, as he glanced at the drummer scrolling intently on his phone, his arms looking like twigs to the taller boy.

There was no way he was going to lose the bet.

Chanyeol couldn’t believe he lost the bet.

It was all an accident, a misstep that led to Chanyeol bumping into the machine and getting the lowest score. He didn’t even think it was possible to get such a low score, and he had voiced such thoughts to the others, who simply laughed and told him that there were no second chances. Thus Chanyeol ended up the loser, something he was not prepared for.

Chanyeol frowned as he looked at the photo Sehun had sent, of pastel colours, reminiscent of sweet, soft things and the complete opposite of who he was - or wanted to be. He should've known better, letting Sehun choose the hair colour. Chanyeol knew how Kai got when he won a game, and he knew Baekhyun couldn't be trusted with anything, so he figured that Sehun was the safest option.

But now as he looked at the pinks, purples and blues that took up his phone screen, he was beginning to regret giving the youngest all the power. Sehun may not have spoken much, but he could be quite the shit when he wanted to.

Chanyeol sighed as he finally entered the hair salon after wasting a good amount of time standing outside. He knew he had to do it sooner or later. Part of the deal was that he had to go get it done as soon as he could, and before he could see you, for which he felt guilty. He had told you last night that he would see you first thing in the morning, and yet here he was about to dye his hair a ridiculous colour before even kissing you for the first time in weeks.

The nerves he felt sitting in the waiting room in the salon were nearly identical to those he felt before a performance, which was ridiculous because it was just hair! But no matter how much Chanyeol thought it over, he kept getting reminded of the last time he had dyed his hair, back when he was still a foolish teenager. He remembered how much you had made fun of him for it, at every chance you got. He only hoped that you would still love him after this drastic change.

When it was finally his turn, Chanyeol showed the young woman the picture Sehun had sent for reference. The shocked expression on her face only made Chanyeol feel worse. He was definitely going to regret ever bringing up a bet.

It was a long process of bleaching and dyeing all the shades. Chanyeol sat with his heart in his throat, and his teeth tugging at the flesh of his lower lip, his eyes squeezed shut, afraid of what he might see.

“I think we’re done,” came the sweet voice of the worker, whose name Chanyeol had learned was Yeri. “And, if I may comment, I think it suits you really well.”

“Really?” Chanyeol was still afraid to open his eyes, knowing that nothing good could come out of having pink hair.

“Yes, trust me. You look great!”

Chanyeol hesitantly opened his eyes and, sure enough, the person he saw in the mirror in front of him looked a completely different person. The pastel colours made him look younger than he actually was, and gave him the look of innocence. Strangely enough, Chanyeol loved how he looked.

“It looks like cotton candy.” he gasped, reaching a hand to his hair to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“It really does!” Yeri laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Are you kidding? I love it! Thank you so much!” with newfound confidence, Chanyeol paid, and rushed to where you were, excited to see your reaction to the new him.

You were pissed.

I’ll see you first thing in the morning.

That liar. You looked over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, and saw that it was already half past ten.

You took a big gulp of your scalding tea, angrily. Having a hangover didn’t help your mood, either. You really shouldn’t have drunk that much.

Billie had told you to spend the night, but you insisted you needed to go home, all too ready to see your boyfriend. But it looked like he clearly had better things to do than see you. You had even gone next door, but only found Kai, who gave you the most unsatisfying answer to your questions.

“Chanyeol is out. He’ll be back soon.”

That fucker wasn’t even answering his texts. You knew the minute he walked through your door, you were going to go off. There wasn’t a chance you were going to let him get away with this.

Where had he gone to? All alone? You had messaged Martina, and she had confirmed that Sehun and Baekhyun were both home. What could Chanyeol possibly be doing alone on a Tuesday morning?

You were about to call him again, fingers hovering over his name, when you heard your front door open. You half expected it to be your older brother, Jumin, which was strange since he had left for work two hours ago. But then you heard the unmistakable voice of your boyfriend, something you hadn’t heard in person for weeks.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your previous anger dissipated in seconds after hearing his deep voice, your feet padding against the hardwood floor as you ran to meet him. You would’ve jumped right into his arms, and he had been expecting it too, his arms already open, ready to catch you, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw him.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

Chanyeol looked at you, appalled. “No ‘hello’? No ‘I missed you’? Should I re-enter and we can start this from the top?” he gestured to the door behind him, ready to walk back out.

You ignored him, instead choosing to walk closer to him and reaching a hand out to touch his hair in curiosity. You ran your hands through the strands, watching as the various colours slipped through your fingers.

Chanyeol looked down at you with a nervous smile. “How do you like it?”

“It’s so... “ you paused, searching for the right word, your hands still playing with his hair, which he clearly enjoyed, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, and slightly leaning in to your touch.

“Soft.”

“Yeah, the hairdresser conditioned it a lot.” he chuckled. “I thought it was going to be dry because of all the bleach and stuff, but I’m glad it isn’t.”

“No -” you shook your head. “-I mean, yes it is really soft, but I meant like, you look soft.”

There it was again, Chanyeol being associated with soft. He didn’t understand why he was suddenly always being told this. Chanyeol wasn’t soft. He couldn’t be.

“Why does everyone keep insisting I’m soft?”

He opened his eyes slowly, casting his gaze down towards you and catching you looking at his hair in wonder, before finally meeting his eyes.

You let out a laugh, amused at his obvious annoyance at the situation. “Chanyeol, are you kidding me?  You’re the softest! You’re just so cute and fluffy and -” you let go of his hair to squish his cheeks in your hands, laughing at how adorable he looked. “- the squishiest.”

He swatted your hands away, pouting, which really wasn’t helping his argument. “I’m not soft. I’m the opposite of it, actually! I’m hard!”

You rose an eyebrow at him. “You’re hard?”

“Yeah! I’m so har - nevermind that sounds wrong.”

You burst into laughter, while he kept calling you ‘dirty-minded’ and ‘nasty’, but nevertheless laughing with you as he held you close. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent that you had missed so much while he had been away.

“Don’t be fooled though,” you murmured into his chest, your voice coming out muffled from the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re still the cutest, and this cotton candy hair proves it.”  

Chanyeol sighed, and you felt it, the way his chest heaved as he did it. “I hate you.” he muttered as he kissed the top of your head. “But, I’ll prove you wrong. I can still be manly despite this cotton candy hair.”

You looked up at him, whispering, “I’d like to see you try,” before going on your tiptoes in order to kiss him.

You thought Chanyeol would have changed his hair by now.

It had been a little over a week since his return, and he was still prancing about with his fairy-coloured hair. You thought he would've gone back to his natural hair colour by now, but as each day passed, Chanyeol seemed to be more in love with his new look. He was often exclaiming how good of a change this was, and how he felt like a new person. He even went as far as claiming that he should've “gone pink” earlier.

No matter how much he adored his cotton candy hair, Chanyeol could never escape the teasing from his members and you. Every chance you got, you would call him cute, and ruffle his hair, much to his annoyance. He still insisted that he was just a manly and hot as he was before, but with each passing day it became harder and harder to see him as anything other than soft.

“C’mon guys, we all know I rock this pink hair.” Chanyeol defended himself after Baekhyun had made fun of his coloured locks for the tenth time in the last hour.

You were all hanging out in his garage, the door open to let in the occasional summer breeze, reminiscent of old times, when the band was still up and rising. A lot of things had changed since those days. For one, you were here, sitting in Chanyeol’s lap, something you wouldn’t even dream of doing this time last year. There was also the addition of Billie, sitting next to Kai, and even newer was Martina, standing off to the side and casting the occasional glance at Sehun, who had taken up his usual spot, hidden behind his drums.

“Dude, seriously,” Kai started, looking at Chanyeol’s hair in distaste. “The bet is over, you can really get rid of it now.”

Your boyfriend scoffed. “Nonsense, I like it! I should’ve dyed it sooner.”

Sehun rolled his eyes, a habit of his you never got tired of. “Let’s be honest, you’re about the only person who likes it.”

There was a round of laughter, including your own, which only caused Chanyeol to frown even more.

“See? Even your girlfriend agrees it was a mistake.” you shot Baekhyun a glare at being called out like this, but it was too late, for Chanyeol was looking down at you demandingly.

“Was it really a mistake, (Y/N)? You told me you liked it!”

You looked back at him, his face quite close to yours, eyes already searching yours for any trace of deceit, but you quickly eased your features into a sweet smile. “Of course I do! You look cute.” you ruffled his hair, causing his face to scrunch up in the most endearing way. “Absolutely adorable. My cotton candy fairy cupcake prince.”

“Holy shit, I think I just barfed in my mouth.” Martina gagged, a hand covering her mouth.

“Seconded.” Baekhyun could not keep the disgusted look off of his face as he looked at you and Chanyeol.

“I’m not cute, though!” Chanyeol protested, for what felt like the millionth time. “My fans still think I’m hot!”

“As one of your fans, I know that you guys could literally be bald and you’d still have girls busting a nut.” Billie spoke nonchalantly, as if it was just a matter of fact, however her comment had the boys choking on their spit.

“It’s the truth.” you agreed. “You guys have no idea the kind of things these girls say about you. It’s wild.”

“They’re so far up your asses, of course they still think you’re hot, Chanyeol.” Billie continued. “No offense though!”

“Full offense, actually.” Baekhyun butt-in.

“Like you’re any better Baek.” Martina snorted. “Should I tell everyone about that awful mullet you had back in middle school?”

“Baekhyun with a mullet? This I need to hear about.” Kai laughed, while the singer sunk lower in his seat in embarrassment, sending his childhood friend daggers as she dove into the long-winded, humiliating tale.

You were trying to pay attention to it as well, always ready to hear funny stories at the expense of Chanyeol’s bandmates, but were finding it harder to do so with Chanyeol leaning in to whisper into your ear.

“You know very well I could still have you screaming my name in minutes, with your hands twisted in this very same hair. Let’s see you call me cute after I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, though you tried your best to mask the way his words were affecting you.

He leaned even closer, though, his lips moving against the shell of your ear, as he breathed his next words. “We could totally just slip right out of here without anyone noticing. We do have a lot of time to makeup for.”

You bit your lip, but otherwise refused to give in. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing at unimaginable speeds, heating up all of your body. His deep voice caused a shiver to run down your spine. It really had been a while.

Chanyeol captured your earlobe in his teeth, tugging at it softly. “What do you say?”

You nearly moaned right then and there, before reminding yourself that you were in front of all your friends. You could not give in. Chanyeol was trying to prove his point, and although he was doing a damn good job at it, you would rather suppress all of your hormones in order to prove him wrong. It was what you had been doing for years, you had mastered it at this point.

You turned to look at him, seeing that he had a smirk playing at his lips, thinking he had gotten to you. You leaning in to whisper in his ear only reinforced his smug look, his eyes now hooded and his breath hitched as he waits for your words.

“So should I scream cotton candy or soft fairy?”

His smirk completely disappeared within seconds, and through your laughter, you heard him muttering to himself.

“God, I hate you.”

Chanyeol hadn’t stopped trying to prove how sexy he could be for the next few days. He would purposely do all of the things he knew would drive you crazy. But you were strong. You knew you weren’t going to let him win. With that ridiculous new hair, there was no way you were going to let him be anything other than cute.

It was as if he had never left. You were back to your teasing antics, the taunts and playful comments only fuelling your feelings for him. Of course this is how it had always been. All those years spent hating each other and constantly being at each other’s throats could not completely disappear in the matter of months being in a relationship. One of the best things about being with Chanyeol was the fact that the two of you could still tease each other to no end, just as you had before. The only difference was that now your arguments would end more often than not in rough sex.

But not today. There was no way you were getting into bed with Stephanie from LazyTown. No matter how hot Chanyeol looked. It was a matter of seeing how long you could last.

It was a Monday night in late July, and you found yourself standing before the bar where it all began. It had been Kai’s idea to have a little secret performance here.

“For old times’ sake.” he had insisted.

The bar hadn’t changed at all since the last time you had visited it, which had been a few months; University had no mercy on you. It felt just as it had when you came here for the very first time, the iconic night you had seen Chanyeol performing in this very room. Nearly a year later and your hand was clasped in the guitarist’s as he led you to the stage where they were getting set up.

“Do you think many people are going to show up?” Martina was asking Baekhyun, curiously eyeing the mostly empty bar.

It was not the biggest, but it held a familiar feeling, like revisiting a childhood home. The ambiance was created with the hanging light bulbs that cast a soft yellow glow. You smiled to yourself as you recalled how many people had come to watch them back then. White Noise really was talented, there was no doubt about it.

“We didn’t really advertise it, so I have no idea.” Baekhyun shrugged. “It is a Monday night, so perhaps not many, but who cares, we’re here for nostalgic purposes.”

“We’ve been playing here for the past five years.” Chanyeol explained. “It was where we had our first gig. This is where it all started.”

“Oh wow, that’s pretty cool.” Martina nodded her head, impressed. “This place is super cute and lowkey, too. I like it.”

“Yeah Sehun’s old man did a good job with this place.” Kai smiled proudly, slapping Sehun on the back as the younger passed him in order to take his place behind his beloved drums.

“Wait, Sehun’s dad owns this place?” You didn’t know why you hadn’t known before. You never really spoke to Sehun, he mostly remained silent whenever you were all gathered together. You had always figured he was just shy.

“Wow, (Y/N) is a fake fan.” Baekhyun laughed.

“Well, given she did hate you for the past… how many years was it? Six?” Billie looked over at you for confirmation, but you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hey guys, I think we’re starting soon.” Sehun finally spoke, and you turned to see a small crowd beginning to form in front of you. The boys had already finished setting up, and were all set to go.

You looked up at Chanyeol, and ruffled his fluffy hair. He leaned down, hoping for a kiss, but you simply pecked him on the corner of his lips. “Good luck!”

“Fucking tease,” he growled, causing you to give him the widest grin.

You went over to Billie and Martina, taking a seat at the bar, in order to watch the show.

The crowd wasn’t as large as you were used to, but you didn’t mind. It was small and intimate and brought you back to that night Billie dragged you here for your very first White Noise performance.

They performed as they always did, with their heart and soul pouring out in every sound. As always, Chanyeol was the biggest mess while performing with the utmost passion. He was just as bad as he was that night, his lip biting, his unnecessary dance moves, and the black muscle tee was only showing off his arms, as well as further accentuating his broad shoulders.

But surprisingly enough, that wasn’t what was turning you on right now. You hated to admit it, but the pink hair - the fucking cotton candy ice cream fluff on his head - really, really suited him. He was like a completely different person.

Maybe it was his words from the past week finally getting to you, or perhaps it was the way he pushed his hair back, you weren’t too sure, but you were squeezing your thighs together as you kept staring at him.

“Girls,” Martina spoke after a long time spent in silence. She cleared her throat before speaking again, this time in a higher volume so she could be heard over the music. “I hate to say this, but Chanyeol really does look good with pink hair.”

“Fuck yes, he does.” you found yourself agreeing without so much as batting an eyelash, not wanting to take your eyes away from him. “That’s my boy.”

The rest of the performance went smoothly, with you still ogling your boyfriend without a care in the world. All you knew was that he had been right along, the pink hair most definitely did not prevent him from being as sexy as he was before.

The minute it ended, you waited a total of two minutes before making your decision. You marched right up to where he was, putting his guitar away.

“Hey, (Y/N), how was it?” he was slightly out of breath, and very sweaty after his performance, which only intensified your need for him.

You didn’t even answer his question, only tugging on his hand to pull him to the back of the bar.

The bathroom was thankfully unoccupied, and you locked the door the minute both of you were inside.  

Chanyeol looked at you in confusion, ready to ask what was up, when he was interrupted by you grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in for a hard kiss. He immediately parted his lips, letting you take control for about a minute before his dominant side kicked in, his hands reaching around you to squeeze your ass. You gasped when he lifted you up and sat you down on the edge of the sink.

“So I’m guessing this means you liked it?” he smirked against your lips.

You ignored him, preoccupied with trying to rid him of his shirt, causing him to chuckle. He lifted it over his head easily, before helping you take yours off. You immediately let your hands freely roam his chest, still slick with sweat from having just performed.

“Wait, (Y/N), I’m gross and sweaty, don’t you wanna wait until I shower first?”

You were nipping at his neck now, leaving a trail of opened mouth kisses and beautiful colours in your wake. “Shut up, it’s sexy. And besides, we have a lot of catching up to do.” you began making a path back up to his lips, where you hesitated. “I’ll just join you in the shower later.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed, before catching your bottom lip in his teeth, causing your moan to fill his ears.

You really didn’t realize how much you needed him until you felt his fingers unbutton your shorts. He watched your face in fascination and wonder as he always did, because he adored the way your breath would get caught and your eyes would screw shut as he pleasured you.

You felt his long fingers ghosting over your covered core, making you immediately grasp onto his shoulders to brace yourself for what you knew was to come. You shut your eyes as you felt him push your panties to the side, biting your lip, anticipating, but to no avail.

“Chanyeol, what’s taking so long?” you huffed, glaring at him.

“Oh, sorry, I just missed you.”

Leave it to Chanyeol to be sentimental in the middle of sex. You rolled your eyes.

“I swear to God, Chanyeol, if you don’t sta- Oh my God!” your sentence ended abruptly as you moaned, finally feeling Chanyeol entering your heat.

Chanyeol paused. “Hmm? You were saying?”

“Just fucking move!”

You heard him laugh, but did as you requested, thrusting his finger in you in a rapid pace, before eventually adding another, throwing you off guard. Your moans began to increase in volume the faster and harder he went. Chanyeol sealed them by kissing you hard, reminding you that there was only the door of the bathroom separating you from everyone else in the bar. Had it been any other time, you would have been concerned about your friends worrying about your whereabouts, or worse, hearing you and Chanyeol, but right now you were far too gone to care. Never in a million years would you have been the one to drag Chanyeol into a public bathroom to fuck, no matter how many times you fantasized about it.

Chanyeol began to curve his fingers upwards with each thrust, hitting your sweet spot head-on. Your world was spinning, the knot in your stomach beginning to form. You could feel the end coming soon, and you began to meet Chanyeol’s thrust halfway, until you were pretty much riding his long digits.

You were rapidly approaching the edge, the grand finale, when he stopped. You had been so preoccupied with your release that you barely noticed Chanyeol had stopped kissing your lips and began kissing you lower and lower until he was right before your drenched center.

You were about to protest, when you realized where he was. He pulled your shorts and underwear down your legs in the slowest pace he could muster, enjoying the way you begged him to hurry the fuck up.

When your garments were at your ankles, you hastily kicked them off. With the amount of time Chanyeol was taking, you could feel your high slowly receding. Chanyeol separated your thighs, getting far to comfortable between them.

Almost like an instinct, your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, almost bringing him closer to you. “Come on Chanyeol, just get to it already!”

Chanyeol just smirked, far too amused for your liking. “Would you look at that, I can still have you soaking despite my supposed soft hair. Who would’ve thought.”

“For fuck’s sake! You choose the absolute worst times to be petty!”

“So should I go change it back to brown tomorrow?” he rose an eyebrow at you.

You did not even hesitate with your answer, practically hissing. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Knew it.” That was all he needed to hear before he dove right in, licking a long stripe against your slit.

Maybe it was the fact that he was making you feel so good, or maybe it was the fact that it was Park Chanyeol, the boy you had somehow fallen in love with, in the craziest of ways, but seeing him now, with his head between your thighs, and your fingers tugging at his hair, hard enough that it must’ve been hurting, you thought that there was nowhere else you would rather be.

Perhaps Chanyeol having pink hair wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world, after all.