#pretty sure his furniture business was going to be key...

[catboyieejeno]

seventeen reaction ˚୨୧⋆˚

⋆ hhu ver.

oddly specific details/key points of their relationship with you

cw: sfw, 'girl' is only mentioned once in wonwoo's, mentions a period once, and mentions showering together in mingyu's but it's not sexual, npr!

masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ seungcheol

⋆ seungcheol, who refuses to wake you up when he leaves early for practice/schedules, no matter how much you insist that he should.

when you bring it up, he always promises you that he will next time, and in that moment, he really isn't lying! he fully intends on fulfilling your wishes and waking you up to let you know he'll be heading out; in fact, there's nothing he wants more than to selfishly wake you and bid you a proper goodbye each and every morning he has to leave for work. except on the day of, when his alarm rings at nearly six in the morning, his plans change completely. he spends the better part of an hour talking himself up to the grueling task ahead of him, reminding himself that you literally want him to wake you up.

after he's showered, gotten ready, and is moments away from heading out, seungcheol's eyes land on you, face poking out under all the blankets that you love hogging, cheeks smushed and drool gathering at the corner of your lip. that's when he realizes he doesn't have it in him to disturb your slumber, and he probably never will. ultimately, he breaks his promise, settling instead for leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and a note or text where he expresses his apology and explains that you deserved the rest. secretly enjoys the earful he gets later, and makes it up to you so sweetly.

⋆ seungcheol, who doesn't let you lift a finger when it's not necessary: "don't worry, i'll take care of it."

it doesn't matter to seungcheol that everyone sees him as responsible and reliable—what really matters to him, is that you see it, too. has no problem with you being independent, but he definitely feels a healthy surge of pride at the prospect of being able to facilitate things for you. having you depend on him, or at the very least having you know you can depend on him for anything, is so important to him. no task is too grueling, and babying you is a partner privilege i can't see him not indulging in. the members definitely call him out for it if it ever happens in front of them, but he could not care less.

if your car needs an oil change, he'll go get it done while you're taking a nap so you don't have to worry about it later. if he notices any laundry piling up throughout the week, he'll do it while you run an errand so that you have one less thing to do when you get home. if you want to redecorate or renovate something, he's invested in your ideas, learning how build complicated furniture and polish floor tiles—anything it takes he'll do, as long as it means he can make you happy. very much an 'acts of service' kind of guy.

⋆ seungcheol, who calls everyday to check-in.

it might seem like it's the bare minimum, but when he works the job that he does and is as busy as he is, knowing that he puts time aside to call you throughout the day is so, so meaningful. especially when he's in a different time zone, staying up late into the night or getting before the sun so that he can wish you a good morning/night. always asks if you've eaten, what you're planning to do that day, etc. and he'll talk to you until he's confident that you don't feel neglected in any way. you're never a second thought to him, and he wants to make sure you feel like he's dedicating time and attention to you, even when he's not physically there to do so.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wonwoo

⋆ wonwoo, who replaces all of your favorite things the moment they run out.

the level of attention to detail he has for things involving you is both concerning and extremely endearing. he's so attentive to you and remembers all of the things you like and dislike. at the start of your relationship, it was pretty subtle: keeping your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up at his apartment for when you came over or buying a few pairs of shorts or sweats (since you’re obviously wearing his shirts) for when you’d stay the night. keeps them neatly folded in a drawer for you to wear on days need to cover up a bit more, like if Mingyu is around.

eventually, this evolves into restocking your favorite shampoo and conditioner when he's showered at yours and noticed you're out. same goes for your favorite perfume that's running low, and other house-hold things like your detergent or your favorite candle.

always makes sure you're taken care of during outings—brings hair ties and little battery-powered fans for hot days, and on cold winter days, opens his jacket so you can hug his waist and he can wrap it around you, swaying the two of you side to side. presses his cheek against yours to warm it up or kisses the icy tip of your nose.

⋆ wonwoo, whose love language is ambiguous

not only is he receptive to any love language you may have, he is somehow amazing at giving you all five (regardless of which one is your actual favorite).

gift giving? the most thought-through, special gifts for his special girl, as frequent as he deems necessary, too, because you deserve nothing less. quality time? one of his favorite things is sitting with you in a comfortable silence, making occasional jokes and comments to get you to crack a grin. a smile is his favorite look on you. acts of service? waters your plants, cooks for you, cleans or organizes things just how you like them so that you're at your most comfortable, massages your shoulders and feet after long days, runs warm, scented baths—you name it, he does it. physical touch? scoops you into his lap because he's obsessed with how warm you are, and the way your weight feels on him is so, so infatuating. likes leaving light and airy kisses on your cheek or pressing his lips into the crook of your neck. all of his kisses take your breath away, but the ones on your shoulder where he mumbles soft confessions of love are particularly awe-spiring. words of affirmation? don't be fooled by his quietness—he always has something he's eager to say to you, and if it's to pay you a compliment, there is no restriction to his words. loves telling you just how happy you make him, how pretty you are, how you're his safety-net and his soulmate and all of his favorite things put in one.

⋆ wonwoo, who sets aside time for you

you'd never have to ask him to put a book down or hop off a game. the moment you appear, he's putting everything aside to greet you and hold you and ask how you've been. if you're upset or sad, he'll glue himself to your side until you feel better. he seems like the type of person who feels very deeply for the people he cares about, so it's extremely important to him that you are always feeling your best, for his sake and yours. listens so deeply to your concerns and complaints for any matter—whether it's in an argument and you're sharing your views, or after a bad day at work where you ramble and rant about what went wrong.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mingyu

⋆ mingyu, who is impatient when it comes to you

he's understanding of the fact that the two of you cannot always be together, considering his career and the fact that you're also busy at times; regardless, he has an inability to be away from you for longer than a few hours. it’s endearing, his neediness showing in the form of longing text messages or voice notes where he whines and mumbles, “what are you doing? i miss youuuu,”

his impatience is also evident in person, like how he runs up to the door when he hears your keys jingling because he's that eager to greet you. most of the time if he's cooking or tasting something, you end up tasting the food on his lips because he's never patient enough to wait until he swallows a bite of food before he kisses you.

⋆ mingyu, who is so gentle and thoughtful with you

loves pampering you, whether its by scrubbing your shampoo into your scalp as he sits behind you in a hot bath, or getting up before you to bring you breakfast in bed. most of the time, showering together isn't even sexual; he'll hold you close and mumble soft compliments or talk about his day, wrap you in a towel when you get out, dry your hair for you, apply lotion, whatever your regular routine is— and he truly enjoys every part of it. if he comes home after you've fallen asleep, he'll make sure your phone is plugged in and any alarms you may need are on. finishes any tasks around the house you may have forgotten to do prior to your slumber, like folding clothes you left in the dryer or washing any dishes in the sink.

treats you as if you were made of glass, covering the corners of tables when you walk by or holding your hand while you cross the street. pouts while he takes care of you if you're sick or injured, cooing and bandaging your cuts and scrapes or insisting you take your medicine around the clock and rest (perhaps even excessively... you could have seasonal allergies, and he'll still scold you for wanting to get out of bed).

⋆ mingyu, who dedicates a section of his phone to you

loves candid pictures and loves your face. simple.

there's a hidden photo album on his phone with all the pictures he has of you and with you and there are various playlists dedicated to you, too. any song that reminds him of you is on a playlist with a cheesy name. another playlist consist of songs he knows you like or even thinks you might like. plays these for you on drives where his hand clutches yours and the windows are down.

if you're an individual who gets their period, he has your period tracker on his phone so he can plan accordingly and make sure he's extra sweet to you around that time. has recipes you like/he wants to make for you set aside in a pinterest board or bookmarked on his search page. also keeps your favorite shopping apps with the cart full of things you mentioned so he can get them for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vernon

⋆ vernon, who can't watch shows without you

there's certain tv shows that he completely avoids unless you're there to watch them with him. even if the guys beg him to watch it, he'll refuse and lock himself in his room so there's no chance it might be spoiled. when he's with you though? a few nights of the week, the two of you sit down with snacks and sugary drinks to watch your favorite series together like an old married couple watching their nightly programs.

loves when you you curl up in his lap, both of you wrapped under one blanket with your head resting on his shoulder and his arms circled around you. his gasps and laughs and overall reactions are so loud by your ear but it's adorable and it's such a domestic and comfortable experience. it feels very familiar, and more often than not, both of you prefer this to going out.

⋆ vernon, who rests the best when he's around you

needs his afternoon naps, but specifically, he needs them with you. limbs tangled and light conversation before you drift off that just becomes slurred, pointless babbling. quiet snores and soft breaths take over as the early afternoon hours go by. just the warmth of having you near makes his heart so happy and his rest so fulfilling, especially before practice or after long hours of travelling.

it's a treat to wake up beside him after these catnaps, too. the sleepy features and tousled hair are so very boyfriend, and the way he looks at you when his eyes peek open is so cute.

⋆ vernon, who always tries new things with you

a yes man, any time, all of the time. whether you ask to go on a grocery run at two in the morning or a hike at dawn, he's saying yes. whenever you want to try something new, vernon is your partner in crime and your greatest alliance. he's not only your boyfriend, but your best friend, and it makes everything so fun. always puts a smile on your face, too. he's so goofy and easy going that it's difficult to not feel great around him.

enthusiastic and supportive when you wanna try new hobbies. always asks so many questions so you know he's interested and invested, and will get you any tools or resources you need to excel. trying new foods and restaurants is also high up on the list of things the two of you like to do. he might like keeping a little list of your favorite spots so he can find similar ones to try with you.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

[vicariousresearcher]

Neighbour!141 and how they get your attention.

Neighbour!Price who is constantly offering you help. Sees some furniture boxes at your door and is offering to put it together for you. No? Well surely you need some tools at least, make it all easier. No no he doesn’t mind truly. He doesn’t want you trying to fix everything up with just an allen key now does he?

Shovels your side walk, up to your door even. When you come to him the next day all apologetic and saying that you were just about to do it, seriously he didn’t need to. He just brushes you off saying that ‘birds don’t need to be out doin that.' It‘s okay, he was doing his anyway. 

Listening when you complain about your shitty landlord who has yet to do anything about your faulty water heater. You’re in those shorts he’s only seen through the window, arms crossed and rambling as he thumbs at the valves. 

“It’s a no go bird. You gotta buy a whole new heating element and get it put in dere. If you’re needin to, you can shower at my place till this gets figure’d out ya?”

Neighbour!Kyle who honestly you see more outside of your neighbourhood than in it. You have no clue how but you two always end up in the same place at the same time. 

Grocery shopping? Oh he's here too, it has the best deals on produce! Excursion? Oh he just wanted to see the new exhibit at the aquarium just like you, great minds think alike. Eating something in your favourite cafe during your lunch break? He slides in the seat across from you with a playful smile saying ‘how its nice to see you here neighbour’. 

You don’t even know he slipped a tracker in your purse during one of these bump ins.

That's how it starts. A friendship with a man you apparently have so much in common with. You have to with how much you see him at your favourite places. Even that niche little diner that you love as soon as you mention it he’s finishing off its name and talking about how their sweets are so good.

“What do you mean you haven’t had any? Want me to grab you some next time I go-actually no how about we just go together. I need to see what else you’ve been depriving yourself of. Come on, we’ll go in the evening when it’s nice and quiet so it’ll just be us.”

Neighbour!Johnny who sees the sweet thing living next door and knows he needs to get his hands on you. But he’s smarter than those pretty eyes and dumb grin would let you think. He wants you to come to him. He just needs to prove what a prize he is first. 

So he finds every chance possible to workout outside. 

Deliberately does his stretches for his morning run where you’ll be able to see while you make your coffee for the morning. Absolutely chuffed when he makes eye contact with you while he’s mid shirt pull. The way you go bug eyed when caught ogling has him ready wanting to ask if you liked the show.

Now, god forbid you have a dog. He’s making friends through the fence, coming up to your door offering to take the sweet thing on a walk if you want. Truly he would love to have a running buddy please let him take your pupper out. It becomes normal enough that you don’t even bat an eye when he’s offering to take your baby out when you’re not home. 

“I don’t mind taking my boy out once in a while. His mama’s busy but I’m not. Where’d you say you keep your outside key?”

Neighbour!Simon who quickly learns that he can’t offer to help you round because it comes off as….creepy. He’s the one you think is going to tag you with a tracker or follow you to work. The one that has you holding your keys between your fingers when pulling in at night.

So he takes a different approach. Needy, confused, and helpless. A military man entirely unacquainted with domestic duties.

He’s pathetic in a stuck racoon kind of way. You know you shouldn’t trust him but the way you’ve heard his smoke alarm go off 3 times in the time you’ve been here has you messaging if he wants some of your supper since you made too much. You catch yourself adding far more while cooking just so you have something to drop off to his doorstep. 

You don’t even know how it happened but now you’re in his kitchen teaching him how to make some easy meals with your chicken marinade recipes. Something he won’t burn or over salt. He’s got you rambling away, so blissfully unaware. Safe in his home, so trusting of him now.. He’s made so much improvements with you, no more scurrying away the minute he’s a couple feet away. 

“‘m sorry for needin so much from ya. If there's anything I can do just message me ya? Don’t matter what time, I’ll come. Anything you need.”

[comatosebunny09]

apt 302 | sylus q.

— summary: at first, your new neighbor was as mysterious as he was handsome. after taking some time to get to know him—or forcing your way into his quiet life—you realize looks can be deceiving. — cw: gn reader, neighbors au, neighbors to friends to lovers, profanity, innuendoes, jealousy, misunderstandings, stalker ex, alcohol use, guns mentioned, self-indulgent, allusions to reincarnation, angst, pet names, sylus being an insufferable gentleman, slice of life — dividers by: @omi-resources — notes: this grew way longer than i expected, soooooo you’re gonna hate me for what comes next. anyways, thank you so much for reading! — now playing: my favorite person now - she was pretty ost — tagging: @alfredosaws, @chuppiechanchan @hao-ming-8 @antonneva @sunsets-and-crows @leighsartworks216 @grabby-smitten @nebulorra @minniestarmj @elysiums-light @saiaise @queenofstresss @beewilko @aetherscribit @libriomancer @world-of-hearts @awkwardnurse @huachengnism

Information Technology isn’t as cushy of a field as you initially thought.

Sure, you have a desk job doing the most mundane of things—working the help desk, troubleshooting devices, re-imaging computers. But your job isn’t without its drawbacks. 

Sometimes, the days are long and arduous. The constant customer interaction doesn’t help matters; you’re a bit of an introvert, requiring five business days to recover from just a few hours of socializing. 

So, forgive you for seeking a little respite in the form of your favorite set of pajamas and fuzzy slippers as you ease into your apartment. 

The weight of the world sloughs off your shoulders when the door leading inside clicks shut behind you. You sigh gratefully, the sound of your keys clattering against your entryway table, intermingling with that of your AC humming to life.

You hang your bag and sweater on the coat rack. Trade your uncomfortable shoes for house slippers, the soreness in your heels slowly retreating. The last vestiges of sunlight creep through the slits of your blinds to bathe your home in its ethereal glow before ducking behind the horizon. 

Your apartment is humble. Has a natural, minimalistic vibe with bits of decor displaying your personality sprinkled throughout. You already pay the price of a kidney and two lungs to stay here. No use investing in posh furniture when your job sometimes requires you to pick up and go at the drop of a hat.

Your stomach growls whilst you draw your curtains shut and turn on some ambient lighting via your phone. You’ll eat soon, you promise. For now, you’re on a mission. 

Quietly, you move through your home in search of your laundry area, thoroughly prepared to slip into your PJs following a shower to jumpstart your weekend. 

Too bad a pile of sopping wet clothes awaits you when you open your dryer door. 

“Goddammit,” said under your breath as you mash the power button. It won’t turn on. Figures. You kick the offending appliance. Stupid thing must be out again. 

You had set your clothes to dry before you left for work. You were looking forward to snuggling up with wine and your favorite show, donned in comfy clothes. Seems your dryer had other plans.

You should’ve replaced it months ago when it first started acting up. You had hoped to salvage it a little longer; appliances don’t come cheap these days. Besides, you’ve had a darling neighbor to fix it each time. To extend its lifespan. 

Speaking of which—

Chewing your lip, you pad over your cold, hardwood floor to snatch your phone from the coffee table. Fall onto your couch cushions with a devious smile twitching your lips. It’s getting late, so you don’t think to badger him into tinkering with your dryer tonight. However, perhaps he’ll let you utilize his. At least until you can use your day off tomorrow to shop for a replacement.

You hover your thumb over his contact, his name flanked by crow emojis. Contemplate calling him, but what if he’s busy? This is usually about the time he’s leaving. Instead, you settle for opening your messaging app, already conjuring an excuse.

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): lol (Sylus): good morning to you too. (You): 😒😒😒 dude it’s like 6  (Sylus): 🤷‍♂️ (Sylus): im just now getting up. long day at the office.  (Sylus): whats up? (You): are you busy tonight?? (Sylus): not really. 😏 what did you have in mind ? (You): pause. not like that (Sylus): 😢 (You): my dryer’s out again (Sylus): ah. want me to take a look? (You): nah you already do so much (You): is it cool if i use yours tho? 😬😬😬 (You): i’ll bring you booze (Sylus): lol (Sylus): its fine sweetie. doors unlocked. ill be in the shower. help yourself. (You): 🙏🙏🙏

You take your time gathering your saturated clothes into a basket. On your way out, you snag a bottle of Merlot from your fridge.

No matter how often you’ve been here, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how much more… put together Sylus’ place is compared to yours.

It suits him—the black and red furniture, the stylish accents littering his apartment. It smells delightful inside, a mixture of mahogany and amber enmeshed with remnants of food. Soulful jazz flows from a record player, fitting the sepia-toned glow of floor lamps and candles flickering on every other surface.

You toe the door shut behind you. Feel so small and out of place amid his decor. You’ve only recently started coming here, having spent much of your time together inside your apartment. Regardless, you navigate his space like it’s your second home, finding his washer and dryer set.

After starting your clothes in the dryer, you wander back to the living room, hands stuffed in the pockets of your cardigan. You take some time to admire the atmosphere. Fingers skim over the various vinyls organized on a built-in bookcase on the wall.

You snort with a half-smile. You know so little about your neighbor, yet you know just enough to be this comfortable with him.

He’s a music buff; that much is for sure. He’s clearly made of money if the luxurious furniture and his car are anything to go by. You don’t press him about what he does for a living. Figure he values his privacy above all else, unlike you.

You’re an open book. The primary yapper in your acquaintanceship, prattling on about your life and aspirations. And he just sits there, wordlessly nodding with a polite smile behind the rim of his glass. Where you would otherwise be wary of being in someone’s home like this, you feel safe around him in a way that almost terrifies you.

“Admiring the decor,” teases a voice from behind. 

You jolt, spinning around like you’ve been caught stealing. You’re met with a smirk beneath scarlet eyes, twinkling with mischief. Strands of white cling to Sylus’ forehead, damp from the warm spray of his shower. He towels his hair dry, maneuvering around the living set towards you.

“Hey, you,” you greet, trying to play it cool. Like your heart isn’t hammering and heat isn’t branching into your cheeks. You attempt to maintain eye contact. It’s increasingly difficult to do so with his physique peeking through his t-shirt and sweats like that.

“Hey, yourself.” There’s amusement in the deep gravel of his voice. A smile in his eyes as he studies you, draping his towel around his shoulders.

You swallow. Try to divert the subject, motioning to his record collection. “You got some new tunes, I see.”

A chuckle is dredged from the bowels of his chest. You feel it pull in your stomach. “Sure did. Got something you might like.” 

God help you as he reaches around you, the fine hairs littering your body standing on end, your mouth agape like a fish out of water.

Unconsciously, you step back, your spine softly thudding against the records display. Your heartbeat’s on a warpath, and you swallow against the dryness of your throat as the veiny, sinewy muscle in his forearm stains your periphery.

He gives you a bemused look before slowly peeling a record from the shelf behind you. Steps back to fish out the vinyl and settle it on the platter, replacing the record that was just playing. 

You release a breath you were unaware of holding. Good job playing it cool, dumbass.

“You alright?” Sylus quizzes with a raised brow. “You seem a little on edge tonight, sweetie.”

You sigh, schooling an unconvincing smile onto your face. Try to ignore how the term of endearment glides off his tongue so effortlessly. You wonder how many other people he addresses like that. 

“Work was…rough today. Kicked my ass. I’m tired.” 

A snarling sound invades the space between you, heard over the gentle croon of the new music. Your eyes fall to your stomach. You rub it placatingly. In all your haste to have some dry friggin’ clothes, you forgot to eat. 

“And hungry, too,” you sheepishly add.

You glance up, and Sylus’ gaze tracks from your stomach to your face. He smirks knowingly, motioning with a nod toward his kitchen. 

“Figured you didn’t eat yet. I made carbonara if you’d like some.”

You smile wryly at his back as he pads away, carrying the scent of cedarwood and bergamot with him. Where would you be without such a doting neighbor? 

You track him to the kitchen. Leaning against the threshold, you watch him procure a bottle of water from his fridge. It’s so very small, dwarfed by his massive hand.

“I suddenly got called for a Teams meeting five minutes ago.” 

Your heart drops, the smile nearly falling from your face. And here you thought you’d have his company over dinner.

Suddenly, he taps your nose, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t noticed when he got closer, swaddled in the static of your bodies being so close. “Where did you run off to,” he rasps, searching your gaze for something. 

The proximity of your bodies grows stifling, his warm breath glazing over your skin, dizzying. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he steps back, leaving you shell-shocked and utterly confused. 

“In the meantime, make yourself at home. You know where everything is,” he says, brushing past you with an air of finality. 

You strain your ears for the noise of a distant door shutting before you make your move, rummaging through his cupboards and drawers for a plate and cutlery. After you’ve scooped a decent helping of food onto your plate, you settle onto one of his velvet couches, cross-legged and shoveling food into your maw. 

The fluttering of wings piques your interest. You’ve hardly any time to acknowledge him before a tuft of black, iridescent feathers shines from Sylus’ coffee table. The crow studies you curiously, ingesting you with his beady eyes before he preens himself.

“Me-fith-toe!” you greet around a mouthful of food. 

Said crow ducks away, dodging errant crumbs and spit flying from your mouth, cawing in protest. You give him a rueful look. 

Sylus has a soft spot for animals. You noted it the first time you entered his apartment, greeted by his boisterous companion. Funny; he doesn’t look like the type to have such an eccentric pet. 

But Sylus has found numerous ways of pleasantly surprising you, revealing parts of himself to you bit by agonizing bit.

“Chicken?” you say after finally swallowing, offering a forkful of pasta to the bird. Mephisto scrutinizes the food before resigning himself to pecking at it. You smile fondly, your eyes crinkling with mirth. “Mephisto, you cannibal.”

Lulled by the occasional flap of Mephisto’s wings and Sylus’ even tone murmuring things of business somewhere far off in his home, you fall into a familiar rhythm, quietly waiting for your clothes to dry.

You spend the remainder of your evening in your neighbor’s company, drinking Merlot and judging each other’s music tastes, long after your pajamas have dried and settled in the dryer.

“So, have you boned yet?”

You choke on your waffle. Pound on your chest with the heel of your palm to dislodge it. You turn narrowed eyes on the source of the question. She merely shrugs from across the table, sipping her mimosa as if she’s asked the most innocent thing. 

“Bitch.”

“What?” She appears nonplussed, setting her champagne flute down with a definitive clack. All serious when she returns your stare over crossed arms, and you know you’re in for it. 

“You talk about the guy so much I figured you would’ve already, ya know…” The humping gesture she makes under the table is a bit much. 

You blanch. “No, dumbass, I haven’t boned.” Your voice peters towards the end of your sentence. And you peer down at the napkin folded in your lap, heat prickling your face. 

You won’t deny Sylus is good-looking. More like he could be someone modeling Prada on a catwalk. Can’t pretend you haven’t entertained the thought of being a little closer to him, too. More than just the late nights spent talking or him fixing something you broke.

You shake your head. Of all the times you’ve been tucked away in either of your apartments, he’s never made a move on you. Sure, he’s said some pretty suss things. Flirted with you outside of your usual banter. 

And maybe he’s done things to confuse the ever-loving hell out of you—cooked you breakfast when you were drunk off your ass and hungover the next morning. Lended you one of his expensive record players. Shacked up at your place a few times under the guise of “coming to get Mephisto.” But—

Nah. He’s not like that. You’re just neighbors, right? Unofficial friends. Friends hang out all the time, right?

“He’s not like that,” you say brattishly, stuffing more food into your face. At least not with you. 

You don’t miss your coworker’s fox-like grin spreading in your periphery. She taps her cheek thoughtfully, watching you like a smug sibling about to snitch. 

“Sure, sure. If you say so. He’s still a man, though. He might not have tried you yet—”

“Hush,” you interject. The table shakes, cups rattling as you saw into your sausage with your fork and butter knife. You’re done with this conversation.

Try as you might, however, you can’t banish your thoughts revolving around him. Especially with your coworker watching you like that, silently egging you on.

He’s not that kind of guy. 

He’s still a man, though. 

You’ve repeated it like a mantra throughout your day, even as you mindlessly clacked away at your computer. 

Work was a blur. An exhausting blur. Day gave way to the soothing exhale of night, and you were finally nestled in the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, on your couch, entertaining yourself with a game of Uno. It wasn’t much fun playing alone, but you needed a distraction from the mess of your mind when your favorite show couldn’t help. 

It’s a quarter past 9 when a shuffling sound in the breezeway outside your apartment catches your attention. It’s accompanied by the echoed rasp of a recognizable voice, chuckling and murmuring indiscernible things. 

You peel yourself from your couch as if on autopilot, nose pressed against the cold metal of your door as you peer through the peephole.

It’s your nightly ritual—waiting like an overzealous puppy to greet or send off your neighbor. You don’t always get the luxury of saying goodnight in person. Sometimes, he’s gone for days—weeks—at a time. You don’t know the semantics of his job, but you make it your mission to help assuage whatever burdens he shoulders whenever you can.

He’s there to help you, after all. Whether with a glass of wine, a warm meal, or his company.

So, forgive you for wanting to be a decent neighbor. And you would be tonight if not for the scene that passes through the fisheye of your peephole.

It’s Sylus, clad in something flattering and expensive. There’s no mistaking his broad back and shoulders. The purl of his voice, the wispy dusting of alabaster hair on his collar. But the smaller frame with him, well—

Your heart plummets into your stomach.

She’s pretty from what you can glean from the limited view of your peephole. Donned in a dress that’s form-fitting, voice high and light. Giggling silly things, fastened to Sylus’ side, held there by a virile arm draped around her middle. She’s drunk if the sloppy lean of her body is anything to go by. Sylus angles himself near her ear to whisper something, ushering in a new set of giggles.

You watch with your breath corked in your esophagus until they slide into his apartment together, their enmeshed voices fading from the stilled walls of the hallway.

Huh. Well, so much for him not being that type of guy. 

You grapple with this new revelation, a furrow between your brows, hands falling listlessly at your sides. Numb as you drag yourself back to your couch, bouncing comically on the cushions.

You don’t even know why you’re upset. He's a grown man with a…life. You think. 

It’s the first time you’ve witnessed him bringing someone to his place other than you, but it’s only natural for a guy like him to have options. He’s far from hideous. Has the gift of gab, for God’s sake. He’s charming and the very definition of masculine. 

It just stings a little, knowing that it’s not…you that he’s touching like that. 

So, you are definitely not flinging Uno cards onto the coffee table. Muttering things to yourself, gripping the stack in your hands so tightly, the plastic squeaks. What’s even got your undies in a bunch? The man’s not yours. You’ve never screwed around. Never really showed signs of wanting to, so it makes sense he would seek pleasures of the flesh elsewhere. His world doesn’t solely revolve around you as much as you would like for it to.

You’re halfway through a third round of angry card-flinging before a soft rap at your door nearly sends you some 30 feet into the air.

Stomping to your entrance, you peek through the peephole, and your heart works overtime when you catch sight of a wash of black and scarlet.

Internally, you scold yourself for how gullible you are. You throw the door open like you weren’t just cursing him and his stupid existence moments ago. Try to act nonplussed, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe with a haughty look. 

Of course, he would smell good. Look good, propped against the threshold like that, an amused cant to his lips, his physique devastating beneath the tight cling of his turtleneck.

“Hey,” he greets, the sound breathy and easy like warmed honey. 

“Hey, yourself.”

He studies you for a bit. Eyes flicker over your face, and you tamp down the sparkling rush of warmth that wades over your skin at the attention. Even when you’re mad at him, your attraction still finds an annoying way of creeping through the seams.

“This is going to sound incredibly strange, and feel free to tell me to piss off, but…do you mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”

You stand up straight. Blink owlishly, mouth opening and closing. “Huh?” is all you’re able to muster. 

He chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this side of bashful. “Yeah. It’s a…bit of a long story, sweetie.”

“O-Okay,” you say, rigidly moving aside.

“Thanks.” The charm is back on, turned up to max capacity. He brushes past you into your apartment, falling onto your couch with a huff. Quirks a brow at the mishap on your table, the carnage having spilled onto the floor. 

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but were you playing Uno by yourself?”

You ignore him, plopping cross-legged on a floor cushion adjacent to him. Bypassing the tick in your brow, you look off to the side, fighting the embarrassment threatening to take hold of your visage. Shouldn’t he be across the hall, entertaining his company?

“Shut up and grab some cards,” you grumble to dispel the green-eyed thoughts stewing in your mind.

“Bossy.” But he doesn’t contest you, gathering the abused cards to shuffle them. 

The remainder of your evening slides by with comfortable quips. With booze and a break to catch up on Love Is Blind—somehow, he’d roped you into watching it. 

You had no idea he was such a sap. Nearly forgotten how miffed you were mere hours ago. 

He assuaged your worries with an explanation as the sun crept over the city. 

The girl in his apartment was an old colleague who’d gotten drunk and convinced herself that she was anything but. 

Being a good samaritan, Sylus brought her to his place to sober up since the apartment complex wasn’t too far from the main strip of bars. He didn’t want any issues when she inevitably woke up. Messing with drunk people wasn’t his thing. 

So that’s how he ended up here, inhabiting your couch like he’d always been a part of the decor. 

He didn’t owe you an explanation. You were just friends. Still, you couldn’t help the quiet smile that twitched your lips after he cleared the air.

At some point in the morning, you both fell asleep. He looked all serene, too big for your sofa, but comfortable. You watched his lashes flutter from your place on the floor, his lips parting with soundless exhales. Even in sleep, he maintained that guarded aura, his arms folded across his chest. 

You were bleary-eyed, gathering yourself from the hardwood to fetch a blanket to drape over him. He shifted, and he was so pretty with the sun bathing him in an angelic glow like that, his hair bright like a halo. 

You were about to retreat to your bedroom when an abrupt knock tore you from your reverie. You glanced at your guest, ensuring he went undisturbed. He needed the rest. He was a night owl, and something about the sun vexed him, so he typically spent his days sleeping when you weren’t impeding on his time.

You moved to the door, foregoing the peephole to open it. Big mistake.

On the other side stood Little Miss Pretty from the night prior, impatiently tapping her foot. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her dress was askew. By the looks of it, sleep hadn’t been kind to her.

“Hi, good morning,” she sighed, schooling her expression into fake politeness. She straightened herself as best she could, but the white patch of dried slob staining her chin did little to help her plight. You bit back a snicker. 

“I’m looking for a friend. He lives across from you. His name’s Skye.”

You quirked a brow at that. Skye? Oh, honey…

You wondered how many other people Sylus had fed a fake alias to. Or if Sylus was even his real name.

“Haven’t seen him,” you chirped over crossed arms. Pulled the door slightly closed behind you, barring the woman from getting a peek at him, nuzzled up so cozily on your couch.

She sighed with slumped shoulders. A childish pout warped her lips. Her voice shifted into something more bratty. “You sure? Tall guy, white hair, red eyes? You can’t miss ‘em.”

“Not ringing a bell, hun. Sorry.”

It was taking all of you to keep up this ruse. You were fighting so hard to tamp down your amusement. This woman reminded you of an antagonist in a Korean drama, the way she was kicking and huffing about. 

“Where the hell did he go,” she groused. You watched her draw her phone from the pocket of her fur coat, your throat growing dry. 

Your blood turned to ice when a familiar ringtone chimed in your apartment behind you. You stiffened comically; mouth hinged open with shock.

The woman’s expression morphed into one of suspicion. She tried to look inside your home, the upbeat ring of Sylus’ phone still flooding the uncomfortable silence.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to assert her way inside. “What the fu—”

“Hey, girlie. Back the hell off before I call the police,” you warned with a hand pushed to her sternum. She insisted on being unruly, so you snatched your taser from the entryway table, the telltale blue sparks and sharp whip of static causing the woman to jolt back with alarm.

“You’re both insane!” she shouted from the hallway, the stomp of her heels reverberating off the walls as she made her way to the stairwell. 

With a relieved sigh deflating your chest, you eased the door shut. Leaned against it, glancing at the man of the hour. He was still fast asleep, his leg dangling off the edge of your sofa. You smirked knowingly, shaking your head as you disappeared into your bedroom. 

You’d let him sleep for as long as he needed. And you’d give him shit when he awoke about his taste in acquaintances. 

(Sylus): hungry? (You): a little. was gonna make some ramen if you want (Sylus): 🤢 (Sylus): that stuffs terrible for your digestion sweetie.  (Sylus): how about i make you dinner instead ? (Sylus): at the supermarket. need anything? (You): 😲😲😲 (You): you keep spoiling me and i might think you like me (Sylus): 😏 (You): nvm. no don’t need anything. lemme know when you’re back (You): i can help with groceries (Sylus): now who likes who? (You): fkdkos (Sylus): ? (You): sorry fat fingers 

You have a nasty habit of not using your peephole as of late.

Your apartment came with one for a reason. Sure, your neighborhood’s been pretty tame since you’ve moved here. But that doesn’t mean the occasional weirdo doesn’t slip past security, roaming the halls and startling the other tenants. 

You’ve found yourself forgoing the use of it a lot lately, given the only person who typically knocks on your door is the guy across the hall. And he usually calls or texts before he bugs you, but that doesn’t stop him from being spontaneous. You suppose today is one of those such cases after he manipulated you with dinner. 

Maybe his hands are full, you muse, unlocking your door. Though you’re doubtful he can’t handle a few bags. You’ve seen him in action at the community gym, thick cords of muscle rippling beneath a tan stretch of skin. 

You draw the door open with a smile, expecting to see a customary thatch of white. What confronts you instead sends a tide of dread washing over your innards. 

“Oh, thank God you’re home,” breathes a voice you haven’t heard in months. A voice that still makes your body stiffen, and your blood run cold. 

When your senses return, you step back into your apartment, thoroughly intending to slam the door in your ex’s face. They’re quicker, however, wedging themselves in the gap before you can shut it. Grabbing for you, a crazed look warping their features.

“Baby, please! Talk to me! I miss you!”

You bat at their hand, trying vainly to crush them, to scare them off. It’s to no avail, and you wonder if they’re coked up, giving you a run for your money as they try to bully their way into your home.

There’s a softball bat propped on the wall, and your fingers brush the base of it in your attempt to grab it. Something to defend yourself since your taser’s out of reach, tucked somewhere in your bag. 

The sounds of your struggle intermingle, your voice strained and panting, please please please, and your ex’s caught between sobs of your name. 

Just a little further. Just—

Suddenly, there’s no more resistance in your door. You stumble against it, a wild look in your eyes. And then, there is the noise of a brief scuffle. Of a back being shoved against a wall, of rusting plastic bags, of “Who the fuck are you?!”

Amid your panicked frenzy, you glance up to see a back to you. Barring you from the view beyond your threshold, and your body’s awash with relief as you register your savior’s form.

“You would do well to piss off,” seethes Sylus, and there’s an edge to his voice you’ve never heard before. You feel it furling in your stomach, burning your lungs. And in this moment, you don’t know who to be more afraid of.

Your ex makes a sound of protest, but you imagine the cut of Sylus’ eyes deterring them.

There is the scuffling of shoes across the concrete flooring of the breezeway, and you listen with bated breath until the cacophony fades at the foot of the stairs, willing your heart to ease down.

Scarlet eyes shift to you, brows knit with concern. “Who was that?” Sylus asks, tone cautious as if he doesn’t want to startle you more than you’ve already been.

You right yourself, smoothing out the wrinkles of your clothes. Finally grab your bat, waving it intimidatingly as you step aside to let your neighbor in.

“My stupid ex. Just know you saved their life. ‘cause I was gonna—” You make swinging gestures, the metal bat swooping in the air. The corners of Sylus’ eyes crinkle. 

“Slow down before you hurt yourself.” He kneels to retrieve the bags he’d tossed down in his haste to intervene. You scurry over to help, gathering up spilled food.

Once you’re both inside, the bags placed haphazardly on the counter, you’re seated on your sofa, nursing the rush of adrenaline still spuming through you like the hot rush of a geyser. 

“You need to get a restraining order,” says Sylus. He emerges from your kitchen with a tense set to his jaws, two bottles of Angry Orchard clasped between his fingers. 

Plopping down beside you, an arm draped over the headrest, he shoves a bottle into your hand, side-eyeing you as he throws his head back for a swig. 

You babysit the cider, the crisp condensation of it serving to ground you. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m not asking, sweetie.”

You bristle under the weight of his tone, feeling much like a scolded child. You know this. Should’ve done it long ago the first time your ex took it upon themselves to do surprise pop-ups at your place—at your job.  

“And an alarm system.”

“I know, I know.”

“I can take you right now to look for one—”

“I got it, Sy! Fuck, I-I got it.” You release a weighted sigh, warring with yourself. 

Not only do you feel silly for being so lackadaisical with your life. But now, you feel even worse for the seemingly impenetrable silence that settles between you. You didn’t mean to yell, frustration and adrenaline having burbled to the surface. He was just worried. No need to take your emotions out on him. 

Sylus exhales slowly, an unreadable expression descending onto his face whilst staring at the wall.

“Sorry,” you murmur, unconsciously patting his quad. You don’t miss how he stiffens; don’t miss the tight coiling of tendons in his neck. You retract your hand, instead drumming your fingers along the bottom of your bottle.

“I’m assuming this isn’t the first time this has happened,” queries Sylus in an attempt to dispel the tense atmosphere.

You shake your head, shrinking into yourself. Stare at your lap, pulling at some frayed threads in your bottoms. 

“How did they even manage to get up here?”

You shrug. The security guards at the gates aren’t always the most attentive. Besides, sometimes, the pin pad leading into the lobby malfunctions, making it easier for anyone to just slip into your complex.

Unprompted, you begin to bare yourself, explaining the possibilities of why your ex showed up.

Sylus listens attentively. Doesn’t interrupt you, watching the subtle shifts of your expressions as you speak. 

You tell him that things weren’t bad in the beginning about two years ago. How your ex said and did all the right things, and they were wonderful. But they wanted something you weren’t ready for. You had some growing up to do, so you broke things off. Moved to another city, started a new job. 

You didn’t bank on them following you. 

The visits were random at first. Occasional run-ins at the park, the bar. Things soon blossomed into something more concerning when your ex found your new address after you relocated to another part of the city to ease the stress of the commute. 

This was their second time making an appearance at your door. You knew you should’ve done something to protect yourself sooner, but you didn’t think much of it then. Figured they would live and let be. Today proved otherwise. 

“You’re grossly naive, sweetie.” 

You snort before gulping down the remnants of your cider. “Way to make me feel better.”

He chuckles, and it’s comforting, your thighs pressing together amid your dinky couch. “It’s what I’m here for. But I could understand how you could drive someone to such extremes.”

You glare at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means…” 

Before you know what’s about, he’s panning in, flooding your vision with the scarlet shine of his eyes. With the wispy dance of his lashes until his breath fans over your molten cheeks. Limber fingers sneak beneath your chin, slightly tilting your head back. 

Warmth wades over you. Your breath swells in your chest. Lips purse as a mysterious shade of burgundy leaks over his irises. His voice drops a few octaves, husky, the sound of it pinching in your stomach.

“It means that you’re someone worth fighting for.”

You scoff, shaking yourself away from his hold. Ignore the bashfulness creeping into your face in favor of being a cheeky little shit. 

“All right, Li Shang. Getting a little too serious over there.”

He huffs a laugh in response, popping up to grab another round of ciders from your fridge.

Ingredients sat untouched on the countertop as your evening eased by. You’d settled on a pizza, catching up on shows and talking, long after the moon had pinned itself to the center of the sky. 

Sylus promised to teach you how to use a gun. He had plenty and would carve out time in his schedule to take you to a range. He didn’t press much after, instead letting the weight of your evening melt from your shoulders. 

He was reluctant to leave you, even after sunbeams spilled through your blinds and you snoozed so quietly, cheek propped against his shoulder. 

His hand never left your thigh. Possessive in its touch as he mirrored your affections from before. 

It’s strange.

Today is your birthday. You’re enjoying yourself, filled with enough alcohol to tranquilize a small goat. 

Your co-workers had dragged you out. Surprised you with dinner, a cake. Took you to the strip of bars lining the streets adjacent to your apartment complex. You were all smiles until your cheeks ached, and you’d nearly thrown up from laughing so much. 

Still, you feel…empty. Like something is missing. Or someone. 

You look at your phone for the umpteenth time. Scroll through your messages, reliving the moment in your head. 

Sylus was the first to wish you a happy birthday. It made you swell with overwhelming happiness, knowing he’d woken up so early to be the first to say it. You don’t think you’ve ever cried harder when he sent a voice message of him singing “Happy Birthday.”

God, for everything he was good at, poor baby couldn’t hold a note to dig himself out of a hole. Still, you cherished the gesture, lying in bed for the first hour you’d been awake, replaying said message and rolling around your bed like an enamored teen.

Even now, you replay the voice note, holding the speaker to your ear. It’s hard to hear it amid the live band playing and the merriment around you at the bar. Try as you might to enjoy what remains of your night, you can’t keep your thoughts from drifting back to a certain smug figure clad in black. 

(You): 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛💥💥💥 (Sylus): hows it going birthday babe? (You): 😭😭😭 (You): u shuld be her e (Sylus) im sorry sweetie. i had some work to catch up on.  (Sylus): you must be having a good time. 😏 (You): fuk wrk 🖕🖕🖕 (You): am not drink ur dronk (Sylus): lol. you sound plastered. (Sylus): do i need to come rescue you? (You): hum (Sylus): ? (You): hone (You): home (Sylus): 🫤 (Sylus): we need to have a serious talk about you enabling autocorrect. (You): r u (You): home (Sylus): about to be. why ?? (Sylus): sweetie?

Somehow, you find yourself staring at the glossy, black numbers embossed on the top center of his door. 302. It’s ingrained in your memory. You’d probably find your way to his apartment with your eyes closed, driven to it by the familiar smell and homeliness it exudes. 

You’re still a little tipsy. Took some time to sober up as best you could before ditching your friends and catching an Uber back to your complex. You had enough sense to gather everything you’d shown up with. Didn’t hitch a ride with any strangers regardless of how many of them tried to pull you into their arms as you stumbled out of the bar. 

You had a one-track mind. Only wanted to spend the rest of your birthday with him.

With a goofy smile plastered on your face, you knock on his door. You’re singing that infectious song you can’t get out of your head when it swings open.

“Apateu-pateu, apateu-pateu,” you chant, shaking your hips from side to side.

He greets you with an omniscient smirk, eyes softening whilst leaning against the doorframe. “Well, hello, birthday babe.”

“Sup!” you return a little too enthusiastically, pitching forward until Sylus steadies you with his hands. You giggle like a drunken fool, peering at him. Hadn’t realized how good his hands felt, searing through the fabric of your top. 

Come to think of it, you hadn’t noticed many things about him before. His lips are a pretty shade of pink. Skin textured, nose sharp, cheeks high. Little flecks of amber dwell between the scarlet rinse of his eyes. His hair falls into his face, damp from the shower he probably had before answering the door.

“I take it you had a good night,” he says, gaze painting a steady triangle between your eyes and mouth.

“Almost,” you whisper back, surprised by the huskiness of your voice. You lose yourself in the idle stir of his eyes. In the fragility of his smile, and you feel so safe in his hands like this. 

You don’t know what compels you to do it. To conquer the space of hot, dizzying breaths between you. But, you sort of…well…

Your inhibitions hit the floor. With your fingers wrapped tenderly around his wrists, you angle yourself closer to kiss him. You almost pull away when he stiffens. But he seemingly relaxes, and his lips cautiously move against yours as he unconsciously guides you closer.

You cling to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He encircles your waist in his powerful arms, fastening you to the hard press of his body. He kisses you like he’s waited lifetimes to do it, one hand molding around the apple of your cheek. 

When your tongue sloppily prods the barrier of his teeth, he bristles. Draws away from you with a resounding smack, blinking wildly. You’re confused. Your heart sinks. You try again to draw him back in, but he gently pushes you away, shaking his head to dispel the bleariness. To chase away the spell that’s fallen over you. 

“Baby, wait. No. Not…not like this,” he rasps through kiss-swollen lips, holding you by your hips. You’re wounded. A hot flush of embarrassment washes over you, and your brows knit together like those of a confused puppy.

“Wha-what’s wrong? Did I—am I—”

“No, no, you’re…you're perfect,” he soothes with a chuckle, a thumb gliding over your bottom lip. “Beautiful, even. I just…I don’t think now is a good time to do this.”

“Oh.” You deflate, a scorching film of tears clouding your vision. “Oh, okay. Um, I’ll just—yeah, I’ll go. I’ll…see you around, I guess.”

You slide out of his arms, too mortified to look back as you fumble with your keys. After he murmurs a hoarse, “good night.” Did you misread him before? Misinterpret his actions, his words? 

You’re numb as you sink into your couch. Sobriety slowly creeps in. Stray tears blister your cheeks, but you don’t full-on sob. Can’t bring yourself to, instead laughing hysterically with your face buried in your hands, swallowed by the bleak loneliness of your apartment.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

[skellyflowers]

Too Many Beds

Ployvessels x reader

The world tour is going amazing. We just finished the Australian leg where IV really stole the show. Our next destination is America. We got a flight and landed a few days early so we could recover and be ready for the next part of the tour.

Management got us a hotel to recover in. The room would be purchased home for the next two days before the tour starts. We kick off in Las Vegas at a music festival. Check in was a quick process and we were given our key cards and room numbers in no time.  Wait numbers? Like more than one?

If I wasn’t so jet lag l would have said something earlier but I didn't really pay attention. I  wanted to take a shower and get a nap. When we get to our room I take my bag to the bathroom.  II and IV planned to go get a drink at the hotel bar and III wanted to go to the hotel casino. Vessel is only one without a plan, so he is either going to stay with me all night and get room service or wait until I fall asleep and join the others. 

The bathroom is pretty big, it has both a shower and a bathtub. I put my bag on the counter and went to report the information to the boys.

“The bathroom is nice. Shower and tub are only big enough for two.”

I was expecting to hear III moan out a complaint about no group showers. However that is not his main grievance.

“There are too many beds! And they are all too small!” He yells.

“What do you mean too many? How many is too many?”

“THE NUMBER IS NOT IMPORTANT V!”

Vessel and IV watch us talk back and forth. Both clearly trying not to laugh.

“What III means,” interrupts II, trying to defuse to tension “That we have 4 Queen size beds in two rooms”

“We have two rooms?” I ask, still confused.

“Yes they are adjoined right there.” II points to another door that must lead to the other room.

Why did we get two rooms? It’s not like management didn’t know about the five of us and our relationship. We were not trying to hide it. We regularly turn the back lounge of any tour bus into a big bedroom.

“Relax, it's not the end of the world.” Says IV.

“This shouldn’t have even happened!” III grumbles. “We always get a king size.”

“It was pretty last minute. This may have been the best they could do.” I defend.

“That’s enough bickering.” Vessel finally speaks up. “V, go take your shower. We will wait and go get dinner.”

I do as asked and hope the boys calm III down. I decided to dress up a little and not get into my cozy clothes. All five of us go to one of the restaurants near the hotel. It was fun and really what we needed. Afterwards, we walked around the casino and played a couple of slot machines.  We eventually got back to the hotel room.

When I get ready for bed I finally check out the adjoined room. As I expected the room is exactly the same, just flipped. I walk to the bedroom and see that one of the beds is missing a mattress. I head back to our main room to ask what happened.

When I get there I see what happened. All of the furniture has been pushed into the corners, I assume that Vessel was responsible for that, and all three mattresses are on the floor. Vessel and II are making the bed. IV comes up behind me and gives me a hug.

“You ok with this?”

“Yes. As long as it makes your boyfriend stop freaking out.”

“When he’s like that he is their boyfriend.”

That comment makes me laugh. I am not sure how long we are standing next to the new super bed. The others are busy arranging blankets and pillows. I feel my eyes starting to drift close, all the activity from the day catching up with me. IV swaying us is also putting me to sleep.

My eyes open when someone grabs my hand. It’s II, he gently pulls me away from IV. Now it’s time to arrange the sleeping positions. III is in the center on his back, me on his right and II on his left. Vessel is my big spoon and IV settles next to II.

“Four beds really is too many.” I say.

“THAT'S WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!”

[abstract-crossverse]

helloo! I love your writing so much, and saw you were taking requests for doors so I decided to slide in!

if I may, could I request a Jeff x Reader thing? only if you want to, I just haven’t seen much of him and I think he deserves more attention :)

Helloo! Im glad writing is enjoyable! I’m still getting into the hang of things again, so do excuse me, its about time I get to doing my long ass how you meet/dating headcanons with fic intervals again One Jeff comin’ up!

===========================

Jeff x Reader [Hc/Fic, fluff]

Jeff, the sweetest entity and friendliest one in the Hotel.

Surprise surprise, he's not one of the Human turned Entity ones

Genuine supernatural creature right here

Unlike Jack and Shadow, the founders of the hotel, he’s just here for business, and was also hired as the hotel’s chef, he makes one good pasta I’ll tell you that

Also he’s not a maniac who loves to torture people for funnies like the other two… well, at least that Jack’s whole spiel, Shadow… is too reserved, and we don't know his motives with the hotel, he only helped with the furniture and keeps knocking down bOOKSHELVES

Jeff never really leaves his room after the Library, it's a good room, and he got a pretty good deal with Jack to make his room unavoidable for players, poor things must be famished

Which means if you come over to his room hungry and mentioned, you bet he’s going to sit you down and make you some food, in exchange for some coins of course, this ain't free dining

Most players just stop to take a breather in his room, have a chat with Goblino and buy something they need from his wares

Flashlight? Lucky for you, he has one with a full battery today! Cross? Skull key? Lighter? He has it all, being a shadow like entity has its perks, he slithers around the shadows at times and snatches anything he can get his hands on unnoticed, nothing on drawers though, it's too risky to be seen and Timothy doesn't quite enjoy visitors too much… and Jeff himself is not the biggest fan of spiders

Anyway, you meet like everyone else meets him, get past Figure, get to his room, take a breather from the adrenaline dying down.

He greets you from his stand with a wave of his tentacle as Goblino also greets you, and Bob couldn't even be bothered to look your way

You’re a regular, technically everyone is, but some don't spare too much time to chat or even tip, how rude!

You, however, stick around for a while to talk to either Goblino, buy a snack or one of the things on his stand, and you always tip, because of course you do.

Your friendly nature draws Jeff to you, looking especially happy whenever you come around, waving excitedly, he shakes your hand when you approach as a greeting as he keeps himself in the shadows, the lights hurt his eyes so he’s not crossing his stand ever.

He watches you from his stand as you talk with Goblino, something warm cooking in his heart, he gets flustered when you talk with him, how odd, he’s never felt this before

He doesn't talk, he can, but he doesn't aside low rumbles or clicking/chattering, you're not too sure what those sounds are, he can't speak English or any other language aside his mother tongue, which is cryptic and hard to understand for anyone else who doesn't speak it, though the other entities seem to understand him, even Goblino, you wonder if it's just players who can’t.

He can write, crudely, but he’s trying, after all the S on his sign is backwards, he’s learning, give him a moment.

You two can keep up conversations sometimes, he writes on a notepad you gave him once, and you speak, he’s glad you try to adjust to make him comfortable and include him

His sentences are broken, but you get the gist

You sighed before opening the door to the “Store” room, a familiar tune filling your ears and your heart with relief, Figure had been more aggressive today for whatever reason, you wondered if something upset it or if it was just in a bad mood?

You didn't have a clue, but that didn't matter now, you just hoped they would calm down until you reach the warehouse, for now, you can breathe again. Jeff looked over from his stand, visibly lighting up in mood as he waved an arm at you, turning towards you as Goblino greeted you from his seat.

“¡Oye, amigo! Good to see you in one piece!” the goblin yelled, counting the coins he had snatched from drawers, you waved, about to say something before the goblin turned to the skeleton beside him “what’s that? … HAHAH! Yeah, Bob says you sure don’t look alive!”

It made you chuckle a bit, you knew you didn't, you were getting tired of all these runs and repeated cycles, the adrenaline only fueled you so much, and the runs you actually got to the elevator weren’t feeling as satisfying as they used to be. You silently agreed with the goblin as he went back to counting his coins, sitting on the chair Jeff pulled up next to his counter

Noticing how tired you looked, he moved the radio across the room to the table next to the duo, lowering the volume a bit more to make it ambience noise for you both, you appreciated the small gesture, as much as you liked his music it was starting to give you a headache

He pointed at the items on the counter as his head tilted with a chirp, you shook your head

“Not now at least, buddy, I’m just-... tired…” you said leaning against the counter, he nodded in understanding, moving the items behind the counter, leaving only one of the pillows he previously had set a crucifix on.

His arms pulled a notebook from behind the counter and a pen, gifts from you, it made you smile a bit as you faintly remembered the day you gave him that to talk with you, he looked so happy, though you were brought back to reality when he turned the book to you

“Figure angry tonight, because of Ambush I thinks, you okay? They hurt you?” as you read, he made worried rumbling sounds at you with worried eyes, seeming to look you over for any injuries. His gentle concern was appreciated, smiling warmly at him despite your tired eyes

“I noticed, they didn’t hurt me, I’m alright, I just… I dunno… just tired, this cycle is getting exhausting, I might be starting to realize I won’t ever be able to leave this place…” you let out a couple sad laughs, looking down at the counter, it was true, the possible harsh reality was setting in, and you didn't know how to take it, but it wasn’t well, you may never see your family again, if you even had one, you barely remembered, this place fucked with your memories and you hated it.

Out of your view, Jeff seemed saddened by your mention of leaving, he tried not to think about it much himself, but the idea of you leaving made him scared, sad. He didn't want you to leave, but he knew that this place wasn't built for your survival in the first place. Silence hung thick in the air for a moment before you heard scribbling again, the notebook sliding into your view, “Have you eaten? Drink water? Want anything, friend?” The hospitality made you scoff a fond laugh, shaking your head again, “I'm fine, Jeff, thank you though.”

You heard him chirp again, closing your eyes just for a moment, you felt his arms gently tug at your arms up, you looked surprised as he silently asked you to raise your arms a bit, pulling the pillow still on the counter to you before scribbling again, “rest head, tired friend, you need it. May I play with hair?”

You laughed, warmth rising to your cheeks as he put an arm on your shoulder, gently tugging you down, “sure buddy, god how I am so lucky to have met you?”

He let out a happy thrill as you laid your head on the cushion, sighing as he played with your hair, another arm gently rubbing your back as you crossed your arms over your head, slowly slipping into sleep, he wouldn’t mind if you took a nap, would he? Nahhh…

Jeff looked over your relaxed form, completely forgetting anything else around them as he focused solely on you, your hair, your face, your mannerisms, looking over you softly, love struck as ever, letting out gentle thrills and almost purr-like rumbling, he knew he was completely infatuated with you, he knew his kind’s mannerisms regarding love, he just needed the perfect time and words to let you know

El Goblino and Bob had long moved on, figuring to give the two of you some privacy, despite Jeff completely forgetting they were there in the first place. The lights in the room dimmed with a flick of an arm before gently wrapping around you, pulling another cushion for himself as he laid his shadowy head beside yours, glowing eyes gently casting light on your face for a couple of moments, seeming to either have really fluffy, long hair or fur sprawling on the makeshift balcony as he slipped into sleep himself

I was very tired and sleepy when I wrote this, can you tell I think falling asleep near each other and cuddling is the biggest sign of trust? It's also my favorite thing in couple scenarios, I think it's so cute

Anyway, his shop room is completely off limits for other entities, really only Rush kinda breaks that rule sometimes, he just has no other way to go through, Jeff understands but it's a pain to replace the lamps

Jack can’t do shit if he finds you two being sappy with each other, Jeff isn’t someone he can control like that, he’s a business partner, and he can't just kick the guy out because of something so “petty” in the eyes of other entities, also too much paperwork

He CAN however make the entities go nightmare mode on you out of no where, increased difficulty mf good luck

But he won’t find out, why? Because Jeff is very good at hiding things, including other entities and players, so you’re the only one allowed behind his counter

He’ll hide you behind there if he feels Jack’s presence approaching, it's so dark in there that if you make not sounds he wouldn’t have less of a clue you're even there

I’ll be honest I don’t feel like writing how he confesses atm, so I’ll be owing y’all this one, but let's get into the dating hcs before those ideas cease existing in my mind

Jeff is the softest coziest entity to cuddle with, he goes neck to neck with Rush in that department, with Rush only being a bit tougher due to whatever he is, meanwhile Jeff is all soft all around, squishy

Like the other he has two forms, I like to think as much as he may have smooth tentacle arms and shit, he’s a fluffy ball of shadow, and in his humanoid form, that fluff goes to hair

It's long too, like that shit almost drags on the floor, he loves when you play with his hair just as much as he likes playing with yours

He’ll actually melt in your hands if you play with his hair or trace his face

Usually he wears a long coat in his humanoid form, like a cartoonishly shady seller on the street, not much under it aside black pants and, oddly enough, a ruffled white shirt, he doesn't even wear shoes

He likes cuddling with you in the dark of the room he stays in, it's a comfy little room just like the other bedrooms you can find, it's just different in ways that it's personalized to Jeff’s liking, it’s also connected to the kitchen

Cooking? Amazing. With you? Even better. He’ll call you over to help him cook you anything if you want to, give you a headlight and batteries for it, and get to work!

Best cook for sure, he’ll cook and bake you anything you’re craving, just give him a name and maybe a recipe and he’ll do it

Gift giving and quality time are his love languages, for sure, he adores listening to you ramble about anything you like, explain lore of any media you like for hours, he’ll listen and write down questions for you to answer, sometimes he’ll tune out and just look at you with the dumbest love struck expression ever.

Anything he finds in the hotel floors and stuff that remind him of you are going directly to you when you get to his room, even of how he found it is… less than conventional

“Hey Jeff, how are you, hun?” *happy chirping as he gives you a shiny brooch* “oh that's cool, thank you so much!- why is there blood on it.” *confused thrilling*, he thought he cleaned it well enough, ofc he got it off a corpse

You are not immune to receiving comfy knitted sweaters and scarves from him, he knits as a hobby too, anything he makes for you will be to your preferences and sizes, it can get pretty cold in the hotel sometimes!

Surprisingly, Guiding Light is not a worrywart if you ever tell them you're with Jeff, they like Jeff and knows he’s a good… entity, so he gives you both their thumbs up of approval

The other entities, though? If Jeff ever tells them, it's a lot of mixed feelings

“Oh hey Jeff what's going on?” *chattering and chirping* “oh that's cool glad your business is going we- FUCK YOU MEAN YOU'RE DATING A PLAYER?!?!?!”

BUT LIKE, THEY CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT, I mean, this guy is associated with Jack so for all they think, they work under him too, they sometimes fear what he could do if they dare fuck around with him, as much as he’s a sweetheart. Don't hold it against them, though, they're not used to constant niceness from entities like him

Regardless, he’s honestly the best one to date in the hotel, sure Jack would make your runs a nightmare, but he wouldn’t touch you with a 10-foot pole if he can help it, as long as it doesn't hinder Jeff’s job then you’d be fine in theory

[nuria-schnee]

Hi everyone! ❤️ In this week's sneak peek, I bring you a bit of one of Crystal's scenes in the first chapter. She seems to be onto something...

Crystal almost fell asleep in the lift. She’d had to escape a swarm of monstrous iron-stinger wasps and neutralise a poltergeist that night, and Jenny scolding her had been the last thing she needed. Not that she exactly disliked it. She knew it was her way of showing she cared about her well-being. This was the part she hated the most. Facing the door of her flat, getting the keys out of her pocket. It shouldn’t fill her with dread, but it did. She always hesitated for a second before opening the door, fighting against the delusional hope that bloomed under her skin. What Crystal wanted was to open the door and find someone waiting for her inside. To be welcomed by the sight of a warm, cheerful smile, one she couldn't help but miss. Instead, only the silence and the obvious emptiness of her new home welcomed her when she returned. Everything was as she'd left it, and she hated it.

Read the rest of the scene under the cut!

[...] Crystal stepped into the flat, closed the door, and collapsed back against it. Letting out a tired sigh, she closed her eyes and dropped her bag on the floor. She was cold and every part of her body ached after such a long night of running around solving cases. The feeling was gratifying, even if it wasn't physically pleasant. It reminded her for a little while that she wasn't alone, that she had a purpose now. That knowledge kept her sane when she was by herself. Made sleeping much easier, considering how plagued by nightmares and fears her nights were since Niko died. A continued feeling of loneliness had taken roots in her mind, every empty corner of the flat a reflection of it. She hadn't bothered about buying furniture and decorations yet and still hadn't the energy or the time to do it. In the end, she had more important things to take care of at the moment. She breathed in and out, and pushed herself away from the door. Dragging her feet, she crossed the empty living room. Jenny had blamed the boys for her lack of energy and sleep, but they weren’t truly at fault. They weren’t forcing her to come along at night, or asked more than she could take. It was another thing entirely, what had been exhausting her. Because— The most logical thing to do after such a night was collapse on the bed and sleep. And she didn’t do the most logical thing most nights. That flat only had one other room, aside from the bedroom. It was narrow and dark, without windows, probably meant to be a storage room. She liked to think of it as her own private study, her little agency, if only to make it less bleak. She was working on a case of her own, in the end. Her investigation, the process of trial and error, was probably taking longer without the boys’ help. Even so, Crystal couldn’t tell them what she was doing. In fact, what scared her the most was Edwin finding out. Charles might be excited, would want to help, no doubt, and would worry too much, for sure. Edwin, instead— She had got to know him pretty well, in all those months since they’d met, and they still argued and metaphorically head-butted most of the time, but Crystal cared about him. He was her friend, and she wanted to be a good friend to him. So, she was worried Edwin might stop trusting her, or resent her, if this didn’t go well. When they met, she wouldn’t have guessed she’d end up craving his acceptance. Not in a million years. In the security of her mind, she didn’t mind admitting it, since it was the truth. The thought of breaking Edwin’s heart perturbed her greatly. Even if she couldn’t read him, being a ghost and all, she didn’t to. Not to know he had suffered losing Niko more than he’d allowed them to see. He'd busied himself with work, was all day thinking, pondering, trying to find the reason for the influx of missing ghosts' cases that had been flooding the agency. So, it was in brief moments, easy to miss if she didn't pay attention, that she could see the sadness in him. So, for now, this was her secret.

[isa-loves-you]

The Confession | The Group Chat | Pt.1

In this the group boys or readers confess their feelings/start dating. THANK YOU ALL FOR LIKING MY SILLY LITTLE STORIES <33

Isaac- It has been days since people started shipping you and Isaac. It's not that you were embarrassed by the thought of being with Isaac, but you were embarrassed by what he might think of you. For the past week you would try to either make yourself look busy or try to fill your schedule as much as possible, so you didn't have to face Isaac. This morning you had seen the boys leave to go film a blog and you had thought Isaac went with them, but it turns out that Isaac wasn't feeling well and stayed behind. "Hey, is it okay if I come in?" It was Isaac peeking his head into your room "sure" you kept your eyes on your computer so you wouldn't start getting nervous facing him. Isaac wanders around your room, glancing at your screen from time to time to see what you were doing. you just pretended to work on stuff until Isaac turned your chair around "I know why you've been ignoring me and i don't like it" "you do?" you said nervously asking him "no. I don't know, but I don't like it, "Isaac said sickly. you were fighting yourself inside trying to decide if you should tell him or not "so after i read that fic one of our fans made and seeing the edits i got embarrassed, and i don't mean by our fans but because of what you might think if i do have feelings for you". he stared at you trying to figure out what to say, "you like me" Isaac said looking at you with the biggest smile on his face "well yeah?". another minute had passed but this time Isaac was just smiling at you the whole time "do you want maybe wanna go out" Isaac asked like an excited schoolgirl, you couldn't help laughing at his goofiness. "I would love to, but don't tell no one i don't want people to know" "sure thing" Isaac exclaimed while running out the door to go call nick and tell him.

Softwilly-After that night Nick had devoted his life to try and get close to you, and he was doing a pretty good job. you and him almost hung out every day and whenever you were out in public people thought you were a couple. Earlier that day you had called Nick to see if he could help you pick out some furniture from Ikea; after you guys messed around in the store you guys had gotten some food and headed back to your apartment. "Oh, hey i forgot to tell you about ralph" you said looking for you keys, after saying the name ralph nick had felt the "y/n I'm sorry but i need to tell you something before we go in" you stopped looking for your keys to see that nick looked nervous and was trying to hype himself up to tell you. "The day i had met you i thought you were the coolest person and when i spend more time with you i started to like you more. I don't care if you don't like me or about your boyfriend Ralph. I just want to let you know that I want to be with you more than friends. ``. you stared at nick trying to find something to say but you were mostly confused on why he thinks you're dating your dog? You finally grabbed your keys out and unlocked the door while Nick just stood there trying to find a response in your face; once you opened the door Ralph had run out and tried to jump onto you and nick. "This is Ralph and he's the sweetest boy ever" you smiled at Nick while he looked confused but yet satisfied that Ralph was a dog and not a person. "Now about your little speech, I like you too Nick and I think it would be great if we could be something more than friends. '' You took your bags from his hand and whistled at Ralph to get into the apartment. "Oh yeah. yeah, that would be great if you would li-" you cut nick off by giving him a kiss on the cheek "goodnight nick, text me in the morning" you gave him a smile and walked into your home leaving nick stunned and swooping in your hallway.

Tanner- After winning discord Batchelor you and tanner kept in touch through a text here and there or doing videos together. you loved talking to tanner no matter what mood you were in or what happened in your day he always gave you something to smile about. you live in Dallas Texas and was in Austin to check out some stores; while being in Austin you texted tanner to see if he wanted to have lunch together which he said yes to. You guys sat down at an outside burger place and started to talk; after small talk the conversation of tanner liking you came up. "I mean it's just a little crush, it's not like I'm totally obsessed with you and have a picture of you on my while" "Damn I was kinda hoping you did." You guys shared a laugh, but you weren't lying you kinda wish he did. "It's okay tanner I don't mind you having a crush on me since I have one on you" you said trying to play it cool, he looked around and pointed at himself making sure you're talking to him "yes dum dum I'm talking to you". you guys just sat there at smiled at each other to see who would ask first "so do you wanna you know be the girlfriend to my boyfriend" tanner asked while curling the long hair stand, he didn't have to make is question goofier "of course, who would ever say no to the great tanner". you guys broke out into a laugh and just smiled like idiots at each other; after a few seconds tanner whipped out his phone and took a picture of you and asked you permission to post it which you okayed. After your little lunch date, you went home and showered from being in the Texas heat. Once you sat down to look at your phone you saw people freak out over tanners Instagram post of the picture, he took of you earlier with the caption "first date kinda nervous". you couldn't help but be so happy that you got this man to date you.

[xoxo-author]

What Happens in Vegas Part 2

Note: Not quite sure how I feel about this one but here we are! I am definitely planning to make this into a series, regardless of my shitty writing! Hopefully it's not awful! I also tagged some people because they asked in the first part and that is so exciting! Thank you!

Jake Seresin x FemReader

Warnings: Shitty writing (as usual), drinking

I halt as I enter the kitchen, eyes locked on the open sliding glass door, "Hangman, did you leave the backdoor open?"

"No, I've been upstairs waiting on your ass to finish getting ready."

Rolling my eyes, I head over to the door before pulling it shut and ensuring the lock is in place. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over the backyard, which in reality was the beach. There was a feeling that washed over me that caused a shiver to run down my spine as I gazed out but I didn't have time to dwell on it as I heard footsteps stomping down the stairs. 

Shaking my head, I turned back towards the counter to get my clutch, opening it to make sure I had everything I needed. 

"You clean up nice." 

My head snaps up to see Hangman standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking very sharp in his outfit. Hangman was busy fixing his shirt cuffs which gave me a bit to look over him. His white dress shirt hugged him rather nicely, his biceps on display and his shoulders looking even more broad than normal. His pants fit him nicely, not too tight but not too loose. Not a single hair was out of place.

"Thank you, you're not so bad yourself." 

While I wasn't conceited, like some people ( cough cough Hangman), I thought I looked decent. The lilac-colored dress didn't look awful like I thought it would.  I was a bit nervous about the strapless A-line part but it turned out to be great, not to mention I was in love with the "ruffle" slit up the leg. 

Grabbing his jacket off the counter and the keys out of the bowl, Hangman looks at me, "Ready?" 

Nodding, I follow Hangman out of the house, mumbling thanks as he opens the car door for me. He handed me his jacket before closing the door and heading to the driver's side. 

Hangman and I seemed to have fallen into the husband-and-wife routine pretty easily over the last month. I was a bit worried when we first moved in, I wasn't quite sure how our lives were going to intertwine with each other. I had so many questions; How would we decorate? How would our routines coincide with each other? How would this impact the next eleven months? How are we going to convince people that we were given this whole marriage thing ago? Are we going to end up hating each other after this? How would my ex react?

I am genuinely shocked with how well it was going. Hangman was, unsurprisingly, very neat. The first night we moved in, everything was unpacked and put away. He built furniture like a madman and tore down boxes like his life depended on it. I was also very shocked to learn that he is a good cook. Now I can throw down in the kitchen so I am usually the one doing all of the cooking but when Hangman manages to get in there, it's good. So far our routines work out great, he works out in the morning and goes to work, I make his lunch in the morning, and then go to work. By the time we get home, whoever gets home first has dinner ready by the time the other gets home, we eat, chat, and either sleep or sit out on the deck.

                                                                            *********

"Mrs. Seresin!" 

A smile breaks out on my face as my eyes land on Phoenix making her way towards me, "Mrs. Floyd!" 

I wrap my arms around her and give her a tight squeeze before pulling back to look at her, "The ceremony was beautiful Phi! How does it feel to be a married woman?"

She briefly moves her head to look at Bob over at the pool tables before turning back to me, "It's an amazing feeling!"

I tightly squeeze her hands, "I am so happy for you!" 

"Where's Hangman?"

Shrugging my shoulders, "He told me he would meet me in here." 

As soon as the ceremony was over and everyone was making their way up to the beach to head into the bar, Hangman told me to go in and that he would meet me in there. Didn't tell me why or give me a chance to respond, just walked off.

"Well, go get yourself a drink and then head over to our spot, I will meet you all there as soon as I can."

Smiling at her, I turn on my heel and head towards the bar. The bar was filled with uniforms. Everywhere you looked, you were hit with a Navy uniform. 

Squeezing into a space at the bar, I smile at Penny when she waves and starts to make my go-to drink. "Penny, can you add Hangmans too?" 

She nods before going back to making the drinks and talking to Mav. 

"Bride or groom?" 

Turning to the right, my eyes land on a young man in a Navy uniform leaning against the bar. This man barely looked old enough to be in here. "Both."

Inching a bit closer to me, the youngster says, "I'm here for Bob, we were deployed together a bit ago." 

I nod with a smile, "It's great you came."

"Want to dance?"

Shaking my head, "No thank you." 

Penny places my drinks in front of me before hurrying off to help someone else. 

"Two drinks? Need help drinking them?" 

Before I could answer someone pressed their chest up against my back, "Her husband will help her."

Tilting my head back, I see Hangman staring down at the young sailor who looks a bit scared. 

Hangman doesn't let the kid say anything else before he slides in between him and me, bringing up his hand that held my jacket, "I figured you would be cold so I went to the car to grab it."

I gently take it from his hand and slip it on, "Thank you."

Hangman hands me my drink before grabbing his, nodding his head towards the back of the bar where everyone else is, "Fancy getting your butt kicked in pool?"

Taglist:

@harperdoodle @untoldshortsofthefandoms

[merthurians-prat-and-idiot]

6x18 buddie coda

Warning: 6x18 spoilers

(I had lots of feelings about couches and wrote this! Just a lil post ep oneshot! Written very sleepily so be kind skss) Now on ao3!

🚒🌠

Buck's wandering along the aisle of Mr Mullins furniture emporium, trailing his hand over (soft, soft, scratchy, stripey?) fabrics when he just - freezes.

Natalia pulls up alongside him.

"Have you found one you like?" She asks but-

Its like the words are underwater, muffled, said through a crackling radio- because he's just - frozen.

Staring down at dark blue fabric.

Two navy back cushions, two seat- tall thin armrests.

A faint stain in the middle from knocking a bowl of salsa over in the middle of an intense Mario Kart battle- the echo of laughter and admonishments for using the coffee table as a foot-rest instead a snack one. The tiny tear across the side, courtesy of a 3am beer-fueled need to "try it over by the window!" and the slice of fabric against the wall. The easy change into a bed, sinking into its soft comfort.

Buck blinks and - it slides back into place, the tear knits back together, the laughter fades away and the stain vanishes.

Oh.

"Buck?"

He blinks again, his eyes wet.

Sleepy morning greetings, pancakes and syrup, reading horoscopes and answering scoffs, freshly washed uniforms, tangled shoelaces, car playlists.

Hands on ropes, tightening harnesses, stealing coffee, knocking shoulders, pressed head to toe.

Zoo trips and maths homework, video games and homemade dinners.

A life.

Lived together.

Buck does nothing to stop the tear that rolls off his cheek.

"I- uh- I have to go- I'm- I'm really s-sorry- this isn't going to work- I'm sorry I-" he stumbles, turning away and heading for the door.

And its like now the switch has been flipped- he wants to rush, to hurry towards where he's meant to be.

He makes it to his jeep in record time, long legs flying (like a frog stood up and tried to run, according to- oh - it was truly in every corner of his life)

And somehow, maybe the goddamn universe, he pulls up- unharmed despite his shaking hands.

He goes to knock and then gets hit once more and pulls out his own set of keys and turns them in the lock.

Buck breathes for a moment.

Warmth washing over him.

Home.

And follows the sounds of laughter.

He's sat on the couch. Of course he is.

Eddie.

And how did Buck miss this? The way his heart pulses in his chest, the way his eyes trace the pull of Eddie's mouth, the softening glance as he looks up and sees Buck standing there.

"Hey" Eddie speaks, soft & familiar.

Buck breaks into a grin.

"Hi"

"You're uh, you're not busy are you?"

Eddie huffs a laugh.

"You broke into my house to ask me if I was busy?"

"I have a key!"

"Pretty sure that was meant to be for emergencies" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, well, this is an emergency"

"Ohhh you mean like how you running out of doritos two weeks ago and "borrowing" some from here was also an emergency?" He tilts his head with a faux serious expression.

God, Buck loves him.

He sniffs, overcome suddenly- like in the aisle of the furniture shop.

"Uh, no I-" he ducks his head.

Eddie waits him out.

"I- needed to talk to you I - need - to talk to you- its- kind of- kind of important"

"Okay..."

"I- I was about to buy a new couch, I was standing infront of aisles and aisles of what was supposed to be the perfect couch for me and then I- I just froze"

Buck pauses for a moment and Eddie hums.

"Why did you freeze?"

"I saw a couch- it was blue- navy, actually and it looked soft and- and- familar and I looked at it and I saw things that weren't there"

"Do we need to get you checked for a concussion?" Eddie frowns, twitching forward.

Buck waves his hand.

"No- no- I just- it reminded me of something else, somewhere else- I saw a stain- right across the seat cushions- tomato salsa-"

Eddie's eyes flicker with something.

"I heard laughter and- and Mario Kart. I saw a tear, against the side- I felt the softness, the comfort of sinking into it- the warmth"

"What are you saying Buck?" Eddie croaks out.

"I- I'm saying that I realized I was in a store trying to find the right couch, only realize I was standing infront of it all along"

"As in now- I- I'm standing infront of it now-" Buck breathes.

"I've got a date tomorrow" Eddie replies.

"Oh"

"Right- I- I - I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

"You should. You always should Buck"

"What?"

Eddie smiles, eyes shining.

"You should spill salsa all over this couch, you should fall asleep on it after dinner, you should play Mario Kart here with our son, you should sit down and you should stay"

Buck sniffs.

"You want me to stay?"

"I want you to never have to feel you need to ask that question again"

"And I want you to know you never needed to ask me"

"Eddie"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

Eddie's smile is like coming home.

"I love you too"

Buck falls-

And burrows down into the couch.

[mossy-mushrooms]

The dark harvest

PT 12

Ryu woke up with a start, He wasn't in the living room anymore. He felt the warm duvet on him. As he sat up slowly he winced at the throbbing pain in his foot–well ankle.

He turned to his bedside table and quickly took the pills on the little plate and the water glass. He quickly swallowed them before laying back down and grabbing his phone.

He groaned when he turned it on, it was too bright for his eyes. He turned it down and checked the messages, Mikey spammed him the most, almost eighty messages. He didn't open them yet, he didn't want to deal with that right now. Calista was more normal, about less than twenty? But who knows maybe she wrote paragraphs?

He hummed when he saw that Zane wrote just one message, makes sense they don't know eachother that well.

His eyebrows however raised impossibly high when he saw a new number. Donomic.

He opened it quickly, it was just the address and a simple 'tell me when you can come over'

The black haired boy just hearted the message before exiting the chat, planning to deal with the other messages. This was going to be a pain for him.

....

It was afternoon now, he was lounging around in the kitchen, keeping his head down. He seriously didn't want to see anything that might be outside, there were too many close class he didn't want to acknowledge.

He was poking at his food, trying to bring himself to eat something but every time he opened his mouth he felt the dull throbbing going through his cheek.

The cold light filtered in through the window, it wasn't warm and hell– it just made his head hurt. He decided to take his phone and text Mikey.

'you busy?' he typed, staring at the bubble that quickly popped up.

'no, what's up?' the message came quickly and Ryu started typing again.

'wanna come over? I'm alone in the house and it's annoying'

'i'll be there in five.' Ryu raised his eyebrows as he started at the text that appeared immediately after he hit send.

He shrugged before sitting up and going to put some logs in the fireplace.

Before long he got a message.

'lemme in.' he heard the rattling of the gate, as Ryu hobbled out the front door, trying not to irritate his ankle.

He got to the last step of the porch and rummaged through his pocket before he hurled the keys to Mikey who was waiting.

The keys clanked as the hit the gate while passing through the bars. The blonde crouched down to grab the keys and unlocked the door, it was pretty easy to know which one it was. Only one key was intricately designed.

"Bit lazy huh?" Mikey dropped the keys into Ryu's hand. "If you mean me having a sprained ankle then yeah– I'm a bit lazy." He huffed and Mikey's eyes fell on the elastic bandage around Ryu's foot and ankle.

"Oh..right.. sorry I didn't realise" he followed him into the foyer. Ryu looks at him expectantly. "What?" He tilts his head and Ryu raises an eyebrow. "Off with the shoes" he scoffs.

"Oh- you're one of those households? Yeah okay" he bends over to take off his shoes.

"You mean a household that's clean? Yeah." He quipped back.  The blonde rolled his eyes, "so rudeee"

They continued Into the house, with Ryu pushing himself off of the wall and then holding onto Mikey's arm, he didn't want to fall after all.

"So what do you want to do?" Ryu asked as he plopped down onto the couch and Mikey followed suit.

"Dunno what do you have?" He asked as he looked around. His dull blue eyes looking around the living room and all the furniture there is, noting the blankets and throw pillows on every couch and seat.

"We could watch a movie.. or play games, talking is always an option.." Ryu said as he looked over at Mikey, his eyes locked onto him. His gaze unnerving–but that was a common occurrence.

"Let's... Talk first" the blond said tentatively, not sure if Ryu was up for it.

Ryu shrugged and leaned back, taking a blanket and pulling it over his lap, offering another to Mikey, who wordlessly took it and did the same.

"Sure.. about what?"

The blond looked ahead, not wanting to meet the other boys gaze.

"What.. what happened?" He decided to just get it out. Deciding it was no use to beat around the bush, as he he decided to finally look back at Ryu he was just met with Ryu's face, half of it covered with the gauze but he looked so calm.

"Oh.. I don't know.. it's a blur honestly, I just know that someone broke in.." he held the eye contact and Mikey didn't dare break it, almost fearing that if he did Ryu would close up about the topic.

"Did– did you see what they looked like?" He nervously asked, not wanting to step a line. Although he didn't even know where the line was with something like this.

"He was bald.. not much else.." he gripped the blanket. Feeling the fabric– grounding himself, well that's what Mikey guessed at least.

"A-and your face?..did he?.." "oh no, no.. I fell while running away, uhm.. the path had sharp rocks so.." Ryu was the first to break away from staring. "Right.. the ankle too?.." he prodded more. "Oh uh.. that's from me jumping out the.. window.." his voice got quieter, his head hanging low and his black hair framing and obscuring his face.

Mikey's hand twitched, he stayed silent and still for a moment. He hesitantly put his hand on Ryu's shoulder, squeezing slightly. The other boy wasn't prompted but he leaned onto the blond, and Mikey just slowly wrapped his arms around him.

"They'll catch him" He mumbled, to that Ryu just grabbed Mikey's arm. "I just want him to stay away.." he croaked out.

"Ryu.. how did the man get in? Did the police tell you?" He was met with silence.

"Ryu?.." he looked down at the as he held him, he could just see the eyes of the other boy– not even fully visible but he saw the realisation spark in them.

"They.. they never told me no." He pulls away slowly, careful not to brush the injured side of his face against the blond's arm. He grabbed his phone and started texting, Mikey peeked over his shoulder as Ryu texted, it was a group chat with his guardians.

When Ryu looked up at Mikey, his expression held nothing but confusion.

"They– they don't know. The cops told Yuuki there were no signs of forced entry."

Mikey squinted at that, his facial expression contorted into the one of confusion. "That doesn't make sense, how can he get in. He couldn't climb the fence??"  Ryu looked at his lap, he was mulling the situation over, with all the stress he didn't even stop to think how the person had gotten there. He just assumed it was something supernatural. But.. the fence was of silver, even if partially.

But he couldn't tell Mikey that, he'd get a one way ticket to a mental institution. "I.. I don't think I left the gate unlocked. I– I know I didn't– "what about the trees?" Th blond cut him off. "What?" He looked up, his eyebrows furrowed, causing a shadow over his already dark eyes.

"You live in the middle of a forest Ryu.. what if it climbed a tree that's near the

Fence?" Ryu's mouth made an 'o' shape as he heard what Mikey said.

"We can check around maybe?" The blond asked and Ryu looked down at his wrapped ankle. "I can't really walk Mike'"

He hadn't thought of that, he pursed his lips In a thin line as he mulled it over in his head.

"I could carry you?" He sounded unsure of his own words. "You think you can carry me?" Ryu leaned back on the couch and propped his ankle on Mikey's thigh.

"Well yeah, you probably don't weigh much.." he raises eyebrow at that statement.

"well we're assuming a whole lot now huh?"

"Do you want to check it out or not?" The blond said gruffly before standing up.

"Fine." Ryu huffed "get me my jacket please, it's on the coat hanger" he moved to sit up right instead of leaning back.

"Right.."

...

"You see anything?" Mikey asked as he carried Ryu on his back, walking along the fence. They had almost made it halfway. "No nothing." The black haired boy mumbles as he held onto Mikey's shoulders.

They kept walking, as they did so they spotted a tree that was closer to the fence than the others. The blond wordlessly sped up, and Ryu tightened his grip, his heart sped up as well. Maybe he was in over his head? They probably won't find anything..

When they finally got to where the tree is, their blood ran cold. Mikey tightened his grip on Ryu's legs as he just stared. "Those are.." "scratches marks.." Ryu finished the sentence as he stared at the tree, the scratches and indents started at the middle of the tree, as if the person.. or thing jumped to get a hold.

There were marks trailing all the way to the branch, the one that tapered off into a thin brittle branch. The one that was almost touching the top of fence.

He felt bile rise to his throat as he just stared at the marks a deep nauseating feeling settling in his whole body, sinking into his bones. They could come again, he didn't want that. He didn't want more damage to his body– he wanted safety. This was not it.

"Ryu?" Mikey asked so quietly he almost didn't hear it. "Y-yes?.." he tightened his grip on the blond's shoulders unconsciously. "We should.. head back inside and wait for your parents.." he said before taking a step back. "Right..right" he just agreed quietly, the air suddenly felt a lot more cold. His cheek stung, he didn't notice that before.. he should take his meds again.

He buried his face into Mikey's back, just trying to block out the world. Trying to block out the fact that— that thing could have been stalking him the whole time he was here. He bit the inside of his cheek, hating his mind for making an image of those disgusting milky eyes flashing behind his eyelids.

He didn't even notice that they were inside, his jacket was off.. oh. He was on the couch again. "When do ya think your parents will be back?" He heard Mikey faintly through the ringing in his ears. "I think.. Santos will be the one home earliest? At seven maybe.." his hand twitches before he goes to grab a pillow to hold it.

"I'll wait with you 'till then" Mikey drawled as he took the remote and put on a random show.

They stayed quiet for the most part, with Mikey only getting up to get them snacks and the painkillers for Ryu.

Ryu stayed quiet while waiting, with his knees to his chest. Mikey tried talking but there wasn't much effect, so he decided to stay quiet as they barely paid attention to the show.

There was only one thing on Ryu's mind.

'Why didn't the cops tell us about the marks. why did they lie? They said there was no evidence. I can't trust them.'

[phoebastria-albatrus]

okay for the people who ao3 crashed minutes after i posted this. this has no text editing and is probably formatted weird but. convergence

“You have to be joking.”

“Look, everyone else is busy, I wouldn’t be asking this if I didn’t think you could do it.” A cup of viscous, red liquid slides across the counter top.

“Why us? Breaking the masquerade’s rules like this is a pretty big deal, Tide. This is a bigger job than any other ones we’ve done.” A pale, purple veined hand downs it.

Tide turns around from where he stands facing the rows of bottles, “I think I just said why. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but this has affected even us here, so…”

William lets himself sigh, and pauses, “I guess it’s a pretty big bonus?”

“Added onto your continued stay here, it should be. You know I don’t decide that.”

William finishes his cup of blood and groans, putting his head down on the bar top. “…I’ll…go tell Dakota.”

He sees Tide nod out of the corner of his eye, “Thank you again, I know this isn’t easy.”

As Tide silently hands him a folded piece of paper, he slides the empty cup back, before hopping down off the bar stool, and into the loud noises of Club Crépescule. Music blares through the enclosed chamber, and multicoloured lights flash across the walls.

He gets foul looks shot his way, and he grimaces as he pushes through the crowd to find that shock of red hair. Said person that’s attached to is currently dancing with another girl, and it takes William clearing his throat several times to even get his attention.

“Yo- did we get a job?” Dakota exclaims, and he’s glad the noise covers it up.

“Unfortunately,” He sighs, waving the paper, “Let’s get out of here?”

Dakota says bye to that girl he was dancing with, and leads them out the club. It’s easier now that he’s in front, with his bright flannel and stature. The moment they’re out of the club, the cold Los Angeles air hits him as he goes to sit down, opening up the paper.

It’s simple enough actually. A lone vampire has started hunting far too outwardly, not even bothering to charm. He knew that already secondhand. The piece of paper is honestly lacking in any information, there’s no mention of any discerning traits, only that he might reside by the residential area warehouses or the surroundings.

“Damn, that’s…” Dakota trails off, looking over his shoulder.

“Not alot?”

He shrugs, “Yeah. You’ll find him though, right?”

“It’s either that or we’re on the street by the end of the week, so yeah.” Dakota laughs at that, and he chuckles a bit too as they get up and begin walking to where Tide’s shitty Honda is parked, and William takes a second to get the doors open.

Dakota pauses before getting in, “Are you gonna crash again?”

“That was a one time thing- and it was a stressful situation!”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s not like you can drive,” he huffs as he finds the keys. They have a little fish keychain hanging off the ring, and it gives a faint jingle as he starts the car up. It’s engines backfire a couple times, before settling down and giving a low purr. It’s a miracle it still works, honestly, but he manages the stick drive and it’s a pretty silent ride. Dakota’s put on some grungy rock song through the aux, and it’s a nice as he gets them to the edge of town.

It’s mostly just neighborhoods, and he’s sure they look a bit odd, parking off the side of the road and skulking around. His phone is the only source of light as they walk, showing the directions to where some abandoned storage warehouses are.

There’s a obvious, metallic smell in the air as they approach, and he sees Dakota grimace and cover his nose out of the corner of his eye. Something stirs in him as-well, but he pushes it down and gets to wrenching the door open. A layer of dust settles as he steps inside, looking through the area. It’s a rundown place, and there’s a couple of old pieces of furniture strewn around, but that’s mostly it. There’s some old scaffolding around the building, and it piques his interest as he starts looking around.

Almost immediately he finds a body. It’s gross- even for him- it’s vocal cords have been torn out, and the blood has been drained from that area. Crouching down, he can also find messy, torn holes through the sides, stretching from the ribs to the hips.

The next body misses its head. He looks around for it- but he doesn’t see anything- except-

A pair of bright, yellow eyes peer out of the darkness, and he’s stunned for a moment before theres a sharp burning sensation over his torso, and then shuffling, and he’s on the ground, pinned by his arms.

The person on top of him doesn’t look much older then him (not that that means anything), and he has long, unkempt purple hair that falls over his eyes. He also currently holds a bloody, sharpened claw over William’s neck, but that’s less important right now.

“What are you doing here?”

And he doesn’t get the chance to respond- weirdly dazed- as Dakota barrels over the other, letting them sprawl over the ground. It’s a flash of power- the purple haired boy keeps a raging Dakota back, while becoming more and more ragged at the continuous potent attacks.

William remembers then that, oh yeah, he can do something, and proceeds pull the shadows around them, feeling the temperature drop around them. There’s the very, very obvious noise of someone losing their breakfast- or in this guys case- a lot of blood. It’s gross even to him, and he watches the darkness fade, and Dakota wrestles with the other before they’re down on the ground.

“You’re the masquerade breaker?” William asks, slowly walking over. At this point, said masquerade-breaker has stopped struggling against Dakota’s weight.

He doesn’t look that- special, and he’s almost disappointed in a way?

“Uh- what’s that?” The other squeaks, and William genuinely doesn’t know if he’s joking, as he makes a sudden movement out of Dakota’s grasp again, stumbling backwards.

He lunges forward to pull the shadows again, but there’s a moment where the purple haired boy makes eye contact with him, and his eyes flash a bright, beautiful red and suddenly a stifling, white pain tears through his brain and-

His vision suddenly rushes back to him, and it’s…weird. He stands in the middle of a warehouse? He thinks it’s a warehouse. There’s a faint layer of dust in the air, and he’s breathing heavily, while a faint pulsing feeling stretches down his torso down to his hip, and he feels a little sick. Blood drips down his side in a faint trickle, pooling on the ground beneath him. Ew. But also what the fuck?

The fog in his brain passes, and he realises really fast his memory must’ve been clouded, because he’s currently in a really weird situation where he has no idea what’s happening. Last thing he remembered doing was getting into Tide’s car, and now it seems they found their lead.

When he blinks away the spots in his vision, he can vaguely make out a blur of colour dancing through the warehouse space, and he sees what happens before Dakota does.

At this point- they’re both covered in a good amount of wounds, mostly bruises or slash marks- when the redhead goes for a kick and falls wide. He falls wide by a lot, and he watches as the other take the chance to dig his hand through Dakota’s side, holding onto that flesh as he lunges for his neck.

William’s not gonna let that happen, as he calls on the shadows again and tenses as he feels his body’s joints begin to lock up.

Using the shadowy tendrils is always weird- at first it feels like he’s had a cold soda can put down his shirt collar, before that feeling spreads- his hands stay at the same spread out angle aimed towards the two and his elbows creak as the cold clenches them.

William’s usually cold, but this is…worse. Somehow. He doesn’t like using the tendrils for this exact reason. But whatever it takes, right?

The tendrils snake between Dakota and their purple-haired attacker, and he yanks the two apart.

Dakota lets out a stifled scream as the others arm is removed from his body, trailing out blood, sinew, and gore. He thinks he sees a piece of him come out. Sorry Dakota.

The tendrils slam the other down to the ground and coil around his feet, and he sees Dakota give him a pained look as he walks over.

“Dude, we got you, can you just give up now?”

The other is silent, and the only noise in the room is his friends laboured panting.

“I’d also- really like- my kidney back.”

Still nothing. The tendrils fight against him, and Dakota looks pained as he digs into his pocket and pulls out a large, hand length object of wood, sharpened at the top.

Will watches him hesitate as he drives the wooden stake through his chest. Watching a vampire’s entire body lock up as the paralysis sets in is never fun, and it reminds him about his current situation. Dropping the shadow arms takes a minute or so to fully take effect, but once he can wiggle his toes again is when he figures he’s good to walk over.

“Do you know what we’re supposed to do with him?”

He shrugs, slightly wincing as the raw and torn skin is rubbed against his clothes, “Bring him back to the Crèpescule, and Tide’ll deal with him.”

A pause.

“…I really- really don’t think he knows what the masquerade is, William.”

And that’s how, instead of dumping the body in Tide’s trunk or burying it off the side of the road, Dakota sprawls him gently over the backseat. There’s blood everywhere, and it’s a silent ride as he listens to his friends fake, haggard breathing even out, followed by the noise of skin stitching itself back together. He reminds himself to get him more blood later.

The air is cleared when William accidentally drives over a curve. He doesn’t even drive over it that badly, but once the car settles again, Dakota turns the radio back on, humming to whatever.

“So…”

“Huh?”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“I’d feel bad if we just let him die. I think.”

“I mean- yeah- I would too- but he tried to kill us.” Will, notably, tries not to look at the mess that is Dakota- or his own torso.

“That’s just the job though- we’re just gonna drop him off and be done with it.”

“Out of sight, out of mind, huh?”

He shrugs, “I guess. I mean, he’s just like us isn’t he?”

“…I guess.”

“Anyways- what’d he do to you earlier?” He tilts his head at the body in the back.

“Hmh?”

“You went all still- just stopped. And it wasn’t like you used the shadow arms again either.”

William thinks for a second, “He uh- clouded my memory. I think. It was only after we got into the car the first time, so it doesn’t really make sense?”

“So you forgot?”

He nods, and he sees the gears in the others head turning, “Being a vampires weird.”

He lets himself sigh again, “You tell me,” and pushes harder on the gas pedal. It’s gonna be a long week.

Dakota clicks the door open, and the guy on the other side just slumps a bit down. His blood- more like William’s and Dakota’s blood- stains the couches and armrests as he kinda just flops around-

“Uh- do you wanna to get Tide?”

“On it.”

Dakota skips to the single door lit by fluorescent lights, before doing the knock to be let in- it’s kinda hard because he can never remember what number of long dashes or short taps it was- but apparently it’s good enough as the door swings open.

Out steps Tide. Thats normal, he’s usually here. The grimace that etches itself across his face at the sight of him…isn’t.

“Tough job?”

“…Yeah.”

“Did you get to capture them or- was it that bad?”

Dakota swears he sees William tense out of the corner of his eye, before the other pokes his head above the car frame.

“Well-“

“We captured him-“ Tide raises an eyebrow, “But uh- you gotta promise not to kill him.”

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“Tide-“

“No, no, cmon, explain it to me.” The older vampire leans against the wall, kicking the door shut with his heel.

“We think he doesn’t know what the masquerade is. Y’know- like how we used to be.”

It looks like Tide’s entire face drops.

“…ah.”

After a tense second, Tide walks around the car- looking down at the body William now has over his shoulder.

Dakota just watches- as he offers out his hand and transfers the limp form over his shoulder, “Thank you two- i’ll deal with this.”

And without elaborating, he disappears back into the club’s back door before clicking it shut behind him. William slides down on the car hood and hangs his head.

“That…could’ve been worse?”

William just groans.

There’s the very sudden rush of senses as he wakes up. His fingers itch to go for flesh he knows isn’t there, and as he blinks away the spots in his vision, he realises he stands in the middle of his old homes hallway. The air is crisp as he breathes, without it being compressed by shadows or stress or-

He exhales. It’s dark outside his window, like it always is. The faint scent of smoke fills the air, and he paces the hallway like he always does.

This is a dream. He knows it is. He has the same one every time he closes his eyes, and he has had it. That doesn’t stop the feeling of dread and fear and hunger from creeping in.

Virion paces the hallway. The smell of smoke becomes stronger now and he makes sure the hallway door is shut. It’s always shut; but it doesn’t hurt to check again.

Once it starts billowing under the doorway is when he stops pacing. The screams start a bit later and he just shuts his eyes closed and waits. He waits a while. He waits for what feels like forever. It doesn’t make the screams fade nor does it stop the smoke from choking his lungs, but he waits. By the time he’s hacking and coughing- and the smoke scalds every inch of his skin- he’s still closing his eyes and shutting his hands over his ears, still leaning against the wall.

And Then He Wakes Up

Vyncent wakes up with a stake through his chest. His first thought is Wow, I can’t feel anything. He thinks that’s probably not normal, but he’s seen some pretty weird things. His second thought is he can vaguely make out the feeling of someone’s hand over his back, and a steady motion of walking- but that’s it.

It’s stifling as he just listens to the noise of boots on tile, and he counts down ten minutes before his body is painfully set down. He feels- he feels someone put their long, jagged hand against his chest before puling, and suddenly Vyncent feels everything.

The blood pooling in his torn shirt and the radiating pain and- general feeling; warmth pulses to his face and he arches against the wall, letting himself bite his tongue until he draws blood.

He hopes he doesn’t scream. He’s pretty sure he is.

“Hey- look- calm down-? Can you do that?” The voice sounds a bit…somber. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it as blood bubbles in the back of his throat and he nods. It sends pin pricks of pain down his back but he nods.

A sigh. Vyncent’s able to open his eyes now, blinking away tears from his dream and the pain and the everything- the person in front of him is a lot more solid now.

Tall, with sharpened claws that currently hold the long, wooden object slick and covered in his blood. He also looks sad- like Vyncent himself is doing that.

The moment he has feeling in his feet again he’s bolting up- I don’t want to die here- it’s a quick motion as he tries to get his claws through the man’s neck- but not quick enough as the he gets a kick against his back- and he’s thrown into the opposite wall.

His face makes contact as he whirs around and guards against a leg aiming for his skull from above. His blood pumps in his ears and he feels like just running away running away running away-

His arms begin to shake before the leg then returns to the floor- and he’s stunned (bad idea-) as it immediately lands in the crook of his ribs. Something cracks, and he recovers on the opposite end of this hallway. His ears perk as he can vaguely make out- loud music? before he lunges at the man, grabbing at his back. His hands tear through his vest as he digs his sharpened claws through them- before the man’s other hand makes purchase on his neck and- in one swift motion- he’s put against the wall again.

It’s silent, save for the noise of him struggling against the hand around his throat- he claws at the black gloves and the arm muscles but the man just continues to stare.

And then he drops him. Vyncent falls like a sack of potatoes to the floor, wheezing as he chokes on his own blood. It rolls down his face from his nose and comes up from his torn throat and tongue- and he just stares up.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna finish me off?” It comes out nasally and groaning- as he speaks, and he knows he shouldn’t be agitating someone who currently decides whether he lives or dies; but it’s the blood loss getting to him. Or whatever.

“…No. You’re a Ventrue?”

He blinks- before looking down at his shoulder. The mark of two crossed knives is right there- albeit a bit hidden by blood- but it’s there.

“…What’s it to you?”

The man hums, “I didn’t think- well, you know what happened, right?“

That sentence puts ice straight through his veins, even worse than the paralysis from being staked.

“…yeah.”

His voice trembles a little, and the man pauses.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?”

That…was not what he was expecting.

“Huh?”

“William and Dakota- those two who fought you earlier, they’re masquerade breakers too, or at least they were. If you join them, you’ll be safer here.” He pauses as he speaks, “We’d be glad to have you, if you’ll accept?”

Vyncent nods- he doesn’t know what a masquerade is or if this’ll turn out well- but it’s his best bet.

He turns his head maybe a little too quickly- because the next thing he knows his knees are buckling and his visions going black at the edges.

Whoops.

The last thing he feels is someone grabbing him around the shoulders, so he doesn’t let himself worry.

Maybe a week or so passes uneventfully. He waits around for something to do while Will does some solo job in the outskirts of town. He’s bored, and he mostly hangs around downtown at night. Or the club. It’s mostly been the club, honestly.

It’s one night when he’s hanging about when he sees him.

He’s been standing in the corner, making some awkward conversation with a group when the slightly curly, purple hair that falls just over his eyes and the tattoo of two crossed knives on his exposed shoulder catches his eye, and he thinks if he still had to breathe it would’ve stopped.

Thats the guy. Holy shit thats THE guy.

His head swims a little- he’s not sure why- but he knows Tide is over by the bar again and before he knows it he’s running there and screeching against the tile.

One Potence-charged shaking of Tide later (“TIDE, DID YOU KNOW THAT ONE MASQUERADE BREAKER IS HERE???), Dakota’s sitting on the bar stool and spinning in it. He can make out the faint shock of violet hair from here, and he still can’t wrap his head around it.

“You really didn’t kill him.” He has a small cup of blood in his hands now- and sips it gently.

“I’m a vampire of my word, Dakota.”

“Huh. So what is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be off being rehabilitated or something?”

“He’s- well- he’s contracted now.”

Tide says this with all the nonchalance in the world as Dakota spits out his blood in surprise. Tide continues to stare.

“Are you serious?” He says after a minute.

“Very. I…offered and he accepted- we’re able to keep an eye on him now, it’ll be good for everyone here.”

“…we’re?”

“You and William. I know he’s gone right now, so I’ll expect you to catch him up.”

“What if I just- don’t.”

“Dakota.”

“He tried to kill us-“

“And you didn’t die- did you? I know you can handle him if it comes to it.”

Tide isn’t wrong. Thats the thing- he isn’t wrong. Being civil with this guy couldn’t be that hard- but he doesn’t wanna do it. He doesn’t want to risk that.

“You two are also the ones who brought him here, mind you.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted to be anywhere near him-“

Tide shrugs.

So Dakota gets up. The cup of blood is abandoned on the countertop as he feels Potence flow through the balls of his feet, and then he’s off running, ignoring the sound of protest next to him.

There’s a crowd of course- but they all part when they see the blur of colour that is him, the faint layer of dust, bodily fluids, and dirt all settle around him as he settles as he’s standing face to face with that purple haired kid.

The thing that makes it click for Dakota is seeing the other tense. Like for a fight.

…And then he gives out his hand. Instead of putting it through his face or something he gives out his hand-

“Names Vyncent- nice to meet you…?” His voice cracks on that i, and it just makes everything worse. He blinks once. He blinks again. He feels Potence trickle out of his body and he just…stands there.

People are muttering now, retreating to other areas of the dance floor, and he just…stares at the hand thats given.

Vyncent’s got little callouses on his palm. He knows this because he grits his teeth and takes his hand- less in a handshake and more in a grabbing motion- and huffs.

“Dakota. Nice to meet you.”

he should’ve been at the clubbbb

[soraavalon]

DM: So you guys head into this little town there's a really sweet sign out front 'Welcome to Newberry' and you head over to the Lilting Lark which is the inn in town. It seems to be a mostly animal-folk town as most of the towns have been, but there are a number of fairies and elves and other sorts of creatures moving about here. You all head into the inn there's a warm fire crackling immediately nice from the chill of the road this close to Winter and this far in towards Night you can see your breath pluming in front of you now and coming in warms the tips of your nose that have started to get chilly. It seems like a pretty small inn, there's several small tables Rymer goes to the counter to start talking to the people there and you're welcome to settle down at a table.

Mistletoe: Mistletoe is going to go find a table that's the right size for all of us and sit down on the table like kind of perch on the table. (OOC): Mistletoe's one of those people who does not sit on furniture correctly ever.

Marigold (OOC): Makes sense. That tracks with everything.

DM: Yeah. And as you guys sit down there are a couple other people in the tavern, it's not super busy. You do notice in the corners there seem to be people playing games; there is two tables in particular there is one where these dice are being rolled their bids being overseen by this badger wearing a stained cook's apron and at the table are two other badgers wearing waist coats and this little leaf-nosed bat that has ginormous ears bundled up in scarves and these giant coke bottle glasses on their face. And all of them seem to be laughing and making small bets at that table.

At the other one there is a barn owl woman with a handkerchief around her head dealing cards out to these three players; there's a goblin man in a crushed velvet suit that does not match his appearance at all he's very grisled-looking, he's got this scar across his face, a milky eye, a notch in his ear. There's a satyr woman where she's sitting back to you guys wearing all these silks and a warm fur mantle and then an eladrin man with lichen-looking hair mossy sideburns and brows in this dark green traveling clothes, looks like he just came in from the road he's got his bags still slung over his chair. And they just seem to be playing this card game and it looks like the eladrin is the only one not taking it seriously, the goblin is very obviously deeply invested in these cards.

So there's some games if anyone want to play some games. Otherwise Rymer will come back with some room keys and some drink and more food he has been able to get without issue.

Hunt: Hunt's just kind of people-watching, see how they're playing the games, seeing...

DM: Go ahead and make an insight check for me.

Hunt: Oooh. *rolls* Okay starting off strong!

DM: Uh-huh.

Hunt: 8.

DM: You are mostly watching, you can tell that the badgers and the bat seem to be betting small, they're mostly here having a good time. The other card table you're more focused on the goblin who seems like hyper-focused on his cards. He has a pretty good poker face, but you notice he chews on his thumb a lot and you're not sure if that's good or bad 'cause it seems like a tic that he has.

Hunt: Hmm.

DM: But if you guys want, you can kind of figure out what they're playing, see if you are familiar with the games...

[archaeopter-ace]

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder,  regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the  title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or  tell you something about it. And then tag as many people as you have  WIPs.

I was tagged by @earth-ambassador-jim​, thanks!

Oh man I wish I had a single WIP folder. Instead my works are smeared across Microsoft OneNote, Gmail drafts to myself, a bookshelf’s worth of notebooks, a small basket filled with loose pieces of paper, Word Docs (both on my laptop and on an external drive), Google docs, and now Scrivener.

Behold! The closest thing I have to a dedicated WIP folder 😭

(Most of those are from 2014 - 2016, I have mostly stopped writing on slips of paper in my back pocket)

In answering this tag game, it has been an absolutely wild ride diving back into my old works, swimming through files. There’s been a lot of ‘I totally forgot about that idea!’ and ‘what even is this, I have no memory of this.’ Also I write stream-of-consciousness on first drafts, so I’m also getting insight into the quality of the sandwich I ate on some day five years ago.

So. I am going to start with the WIPs that I am actively working on, followed by the WIPs that I did once actively work on, and I will omit things that never got their own title or doc, e.g. bits that were part of a stream-of-consciousness ramble in my gmail draft

The following are all document titles for my in-progress series, Don’t Listen to Kafka:

Kafka - Last Chance to Change Apoptosis Name

MetaEp & Intermission Act I

Apoptosis Notes

i’ve made similar documents before

Other Active WIP:

Night of the Living Stone

North Salem Possibilities

Ectober Day 9 - Mask

Ectomancy - DP x Dresden xover

Things that are more like Deadfics-In-Progress than WIPs:

The Way Things Fit Together

hey brother

GF/Trollhunters

More Impossible Things - Merlin x Flash xover

Relative Truth

88 Miles Per Hour

Peter and Jack

Gumshoe-Fly Pie

April Fools

Souvenir

Press Release

Childish Things

Things That Go Bump

Five Miles Under a Mountain

x gene horned devil matt

blue fire

GO/Lucifer

There’s probably more that I’m missing, but I have a terrible habit of giving docs undescriptive titles, e.g. “nano 2.3,″ “a new way to write,” “note bene,” “logging,” “blurb,” “news,” and “apparently i’m having 15 drafts.” So it’s kinda hard to know what is and is not a WIP

I’m tagging @rebelliouswhirlpool​, @yellowmagicalgirl​, @violetemerald​, but as always participation is completely optional!

[puppyguppy]

Not that you go looking for him or anything, not when you’ve got shit to do. Shit like finding the little set of keys your aunt stashed around the front porch – under rugs and amidst potted plants. Shit like unpacking, showering, settling. Shit like removing and shaking out all the sheets that covered the furniture. Shit like checking just how stocked the cabinets, fridge, and freezer are, and making a list of things you hope are available at the local market. Needless to say, you’re pretty busy.

But, you know you aren’t alone. You catch sight of him a few times. The farmhand. From the corner of your eye, through the various windows you’ve opened around the house. He flutters past your vision like the mild breeze through the curtains, and stills sometimes in certain spots, dark, like a shadow. Over by the barn, over in the garden, over by the greenhouse – you’ve yet to spot the trailer you were told he lives in. But again, it’s not like you were looking. You’ve got to hand it to him, though; he’s one hell of a farmhand. Though you don’t exactly have anyone else to compare him to – the house is old, but so far, seems in need of little to no repair. The garden you’ve glimpsed looks weeded, watered, and pruned. There’s silhouettes of several different plants most likely flourishing out in the green house. Your aunt said there’s a handful of animals scattered about the property, such as a horse, a cow, some chickens and a pig, all serving different purposes, but you can hardly even smell the evidence of them. And to top it off, the lawns are mowed, and there’s fruit on the fruit trees. It’s hard to believe it’s all tended by just one person, just some guy your aunt had taken a shine to. She hadn’t even bothered to give you his name. You honestly wonder if he even knows you’re there. You get your answer later, just as the sun’s starting to set, when you decide to head out onto the back porch with a glass of wine and your phone. You planned to take some pretty pictures; post it up online as proof of your spur-of-the-moment decision, and to let everyone know that you’d arrived safe and sound. Even if the sun sets ugly, the deck and property make for just as pretty a picture. There’s an old porch swing with some comfy looking cushions, more potted plants, one of those papasan chairs that look like a little nest. There’s a couple of little tables littered with little knick-knacks and decorations, like crystals and rocks and – dragon figurines? And there’s also what looks like a little firepit. And a windchime, almost moving enough to make a tune – with another dainty, stained glass dragon motif. You’re about to sit down, pondering whether it’s your aunt or your aunt’s ‘best friend’ that has an obsession with such mythical creatures, when a sound catches your attention. That’s something you’re going to have to get used to. The noises here. And the lack thereof. Your place back in the city wasn’t loud, but it also wasn’t quiet enough to hear the gentle tapping of a hand against a weird wooden crate from several feet away, either. Which is exactly what you’re hearing. And what you’re seeing. Down in the grass, between the deck and the barn, the farmhand stands amidst several stacks of wooden crates. The stacks vary in height and color, sort of haphazardly so, and the farmhand stands next to the tallest one, hunched over with what seems to be his ear pressed down against it. It’s hard to be sure, though, since his back is towards you. Does he know you’re there? Outside right now, or at all? Is there something in that crate? You don't want to startle him… And you don’t. Even as your phone chimes in one of your hands, he doesn't even flinch. So you stop holding your breath (since apparently you were doing that), but before you can get a single word out, he holds up his hand and straightens up. You watch, then, as he pats the top of that crate again with a gentleness you can't help but compare to affection.  “Do you need anything?” He asks. The question zips through you like lightning, making you still save for the blinking of your eyes.

You cough and wave dust away from your face, eyes watering as you fish for the folded up letter you’d previously shoved into your back pocket. The man that’d picked you up from the bus stop was kind, but you couldn’t tell which was older; him, or the spluttering truck he drove. It made for difficult, hardly held conversation. Not because you’re shy or weren’t curious, but because the truck had been loud, and the man a bit hard of hearing. He’d had a warm smile as he waved goodbye to you though, tinged with a little red. However, before you could ask, or even so much as thank the guy, his truck was off down the road, kicking up dirt.

His barely held together tailgate read, in bold but faded white letters, “Plus Ultra!” When you can see and breathe clearly again, you unfold the paper in your hands and double check the address you’d been given. You’d been to the property before, of course, but a long, long time ago. Honestly, it felt like a lifetime ago – your childhood. Even then, you can’t really remember the place beyond a couple of random, core memories. Like falling asleep on both the way there and the way back, safe and comfortable, lulled unconscious by the quiet conversation of your parents and the rhythmic rocking of the car. You could’ve made more memories there – here. You’d been invited well into your teen years, for holidays and summer breaks and special occasions. And it’s not that you didn’t love your aunt, the one who used to live here; her and her ‘best friend’ though everyone in the family knew better. You still love her, love them. Hard not to with just how crazy they could be – like the two of them buying a farm out in the middle of nowhere, and thinking they could keep up with it. They’d done surprisingly well, up until randomly deciding to travel the world before permanently settling down. You’re pretty sure they eloped. You’re like, ninety-nine percent positive that they’re currently on their honeymoon. Just best friend things. You probably could’ve been closer to them, if you’d just given them the chance. But, you were young. You had classes and friends and hobbies at the time that you’d just considered too cool to pass up. Now all gone, for one reason or another, which is why you’re even here. Why you’d reached out to your aunt in the first place. It was the perfect opportunity. They’d more or less left the property abandoned, and you were in desperate need of an escape. A reset. That all depends on that more or less, though. Apparently, your aunt had hired a farmhand at some point. And, said farmhand still lived there. Here. Not in the house or anything, but in his own little trailer, supposedly. Parked somewhere rather permanently on the property. In the letter, your aunt had described him as ‘a bit standoffish’ but with ‘a heart of gold’. Then followed that up by saying that if you didn’t like him, well. ‘Tough shit. Leave.’ Whether you liked him or not didn’t really matter. You didn’t come here to make friends. You didn’t come here to get to know anyone else other than yourself. So, you figure, as long as he stays out of your way, you’ll do your best to stay out of his. Which… Ends up being almost eerily easy.

[simping4villains]

I’m usually a Feitan girlie, but here’s a little Shalnark one shot that I wrote recently! It’s posted on ao3 and wattpad along with my ongoing Feitan fic (all under the same username).

Please give me some requests bc I love writing little scenarios like these!

Anyway:

Our original plan had failed.

As soon as we got to the special event island, we were stopped by one of the game’s creators and beamed to one of the main cities. Shalnark decided that it would be best for us to find somewhere to rest tonight and regroup in the morning.

“Come on,” he said to us. “There’s a place up the road where we can rent lodging for the night.”

   "So, now what?" I asked while we walked. "Can we still go through with the rest of the mission? We don't have the boat anymore."

   He rubbed his chin as he thought. "I guess for now we'll just play the game until we can find another way off of the island."

   "What he means," Phinks clarified, "Is that we'll steal whatever cards we need in order to get the treasure. That's what Fei and I did before."

   "Right," Shal agreed as he pushed through the front door of one of the city's brick buildings.

   The decor inside was very old and rustic-looking. I noticed that there were cobwebs wrapping around the chandelier that hung in the center of the room. There was a small cat-like man sitting in one of the lobby's plush chairs, reading a book. He smiled at us as we came in, hopping up to run behind the counter.

   "Hello! What can I do for you folks?"

   "We'd like to rent six rooms, please," Shalnark answered.

   "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I've only got three left."

   "Should we go somewhere else?" Franklin asked Shal.

  "No, no, we can just pair off—you and Kortopi, Phinks and Feitan, and me and y/n.” He gave me a warm smile as he said my name.

I appreciated Shalnark’s offer to room with me, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by it. I didn’t think we were necessarily the closest. Then again, who was I really close with out of these guys—Phinks and Feitan? Definitely not, the three of us just teamed up for missions sometimes. Maybe he figured that out of everyone in this group I’d feel least threatened rooming with him. He did have a very welcoming presence after all.

We grabbed our keys from the man behind the counter and climbed the stairs to our shared room.

“I’m excited for our sleepover,” he beamed as he unlocked the door. “I’ve been dying to get to know you better, it’s just that we’ve both been so busy—you with your training and me trying to plan this mission—but what a perfect opportunity this is!”

“Yeah,” I agreed, returning his grin.

It was true that the two of us hadn’t really spent a ton of time together—just a few card games here and there, and that one time he looked after me when I’d passed out during the Yorknew auction mission—but I’d always thought of him as being very kind. Plus, he was pretty close with Machi and Shizuku, and they were probably my best friends in the troupe. So, logically, it made sense that Shalnark and I would get along pretty well, too.

Our room was simple and rustic, just as the lobby had been. The only furniture we had was a beat-up writing desk, a nightstand with a dusty lamp, and a bed just big enough for two.

“Oh no,” he said when he saw it. “Are you okay with sharing? If not I completely understand. I’ll let you have the bed and I can just sleep on the floor or—“

I waved my hands. “No, Shalnark, you don’t have to do that. We can share.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “It’s fine. Really!”

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable with it!” He flashed me another one of his charming smiles.

He went down the hall to the shared bathroom so we could both have some privacy while changing into our pajamas. I climbed under the covers once I was done and waited for him to get back so I could shut the lights off.

He came back into the room in a pair of purple shorts and a white t-shirt with some video game logo on the front of it, locking the door behind him before rushing and jumping onto the bed. He laughed to himself as he collided with the mattress, then turned to his side and propped his head up on his elbow.

“What, you aren’t tired already, are you?”

“Oh, I mean, were you wanting to stay up?”

“Yeah, I thought maybe we could play a game or something.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm,” He tapped his finger against his lips as he thought. “Oh, I’ve got it! We could play Truth!”

“Truth?” I echoed, not recognizing the game.

“It’s like Truth or Dare, but without the dare part.”

“So, we’d just be asking each other questions?”

He chuckled. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s all it really is, but you get one chicken card to use if there’s something you don’t want to answer. Is that lame?”

“No, not at all!” I moved onto my side so that I was facing him, too. “You go first so I can think of one.”

“Alright. What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s it?” I laughed. “I was expecting some much deeper questions!”

“Oh, we’ll get to those. I just figured we should start small.” He was smiling again, not that he ever seemed to stop. He really made hanging out with him feel so natural and easy.

“It’s green.”

“What kind? Like a lime green, or an olive green, or a forest green. . .?”

“Mmm probably a deeper green, almost like, well, like your eyes.”

He blinked in surprise at my response, but quickly snapped back to his usual happy demeanor. “I’m flattered. So, did you think of a question for me yet?”

“Who’s your best friend in the troupe?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one!” He weighed his response. “I get along with everyone, but I’d have to say that I’m probably closest with Phinks or Feitan.”

“Really?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Honestly, yeah. Phinks and Feitan had regarded me with suspicion when I first joined the troupe, treating me like an enemy, but Shal had always been warm and welcome. It was odd that the three of them would be such great friends. “You’re just pretty different is all.”

“I can see how you’d think that, but they’re good people once you get to know them.” He paused, his expression changing. “Speaking of, is there something going on between you and Feitan?”

My stomach flipped. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Downstairs when I paired people up he didn’t seem to like that I chose to room with you. I guess you must not have noticed the look he was giving me.”

I hadn’t. “Well, I don’t know what that was all about. We can barely stand each other. It’s been that way since I joined.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. There wasn’t anything between Feitan and I—just this stupid attraction that I couldn’t kick, but I knew nothing would ever come of it.

“Okay,” he grinned. “You can count that as my question.”

Fuck, I hadn’t been thinking of what to ask next.

“Do you have anyone?”

It was all I could think of. We were on the subject of romance, so it was the first thing that popped into my mind.

He shook his head. “Nope. I wouldn’t be against it though if I met the right person.”

“What does your ‘right person’ look like?”

He wagged his finger at me. “It’s my turn.”

“Right. Sorry,” I laughed.

“And just for that, I’m stealing your question.”

“No fair!”

He shrugged. “Shouldn’t have tried to skip me, then.”

I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. “Alright, fine. I haven’t really thought about it much, but I guess my perfect person would be. . . someone I could trust, who I can be myself around and who makes me feel safe.”

“Aww that’s sweet.”

“Well, what about you?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. Repeat questions aren’t allowed.”

I frowned. “But it was my question.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

He literally did, but I wasn’t going to argue. “Alright, then, um, where’s your spider tattoo?”

“Right here,” he tapped the right side of his chest. “Wanna see?”

I nodded.

He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. I had already figured by his arms that Shalnark was fit, but that knowledge didn’t keep me from staring at his toned abs. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t look away.

Shalnark noticed my wandering gaze. His cheeks lightly flushed as he laid back down again, still shirtless.

“Do you have a question for me now?” I asked.

“I do,” he murmured. “If I tried to kissed you right now. . . would you let me?”

My heart skipped. Was this a joke? No, he wasn’t laughing. He didn’t even have that trademark smile plastered on his face. I searched his eyes—innocent, pleading, sincere. Shalnark wasn’t someone who would hurt me.

Maybe he was exactly what I needed.

I nodded, breathless.

He traced his fingers along my jaw until he reached the back of my neck, where he wove them into my hair. Using this grip, he pulled me closer to him, and our lips met in sparks.

Kissing Shalnark was everything you’d expect: soft, gentle, and sweet. I felt like I was melting against him, turning to putty under his touch. I think he must have known what he was doing to me, because I felt him smiling again.

He broke the kiss, smirking as he brushed his thumb across my lips. “You enjoying yourself?”

“I don’t think it’s your turn to ask a question,” I joked. “And for that, i’m stealing yours.”

He laughed. “Alright, I see how it is. I guess I deserved that.” He moved his hand down my neck and along my side, until it came to rest at my waist. “But yes, I am.”

“Me too,” I smiled.

He rested his forehead on mine, our noses barely brushing. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Our lips connected once more, but nothing about this kiss was the same. We were both driven by a wild passion coursing through our veins, unable to hold back. It was like our bodies burned for each other. No matter how closely he held me to him, it wasn’t enough.

His hands slid under the fabric of my shirt and he helped to guide it over my head. He paused, his lips parting when he saw the way my stomach was littered in scars.

“Y/n. . .” he carefully ran the tips of his fingers over my raised skin.

“Battle scars,” I chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine, really.”

He wrapped his arms around me again and held me close to his chest, stroking my hair. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

“Will you just. . . help me forget?”

He tilted my head up so that I was looking into his eyes. “Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

I kissed him again, biting down on his bottom lip before rolling him on top of me. He took the hint and started biting, kissing, and sucking further down my body until he reached my waistband. He hooked his fingers into the top of my shorts and glanced up at me, waiting for confirmation that this was what I wanted. I nodded and he pulled them down along with my panties.

I suppose I should have felt self conscious, being so exposed in front a man I admittedly didn’t know all too well, but Shalnark didn’t give me any reason to feel insecure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as I lay sprawled out before him.

He pressed a soft kiss to my knee before pushing my legs apart, then another on the inside of my thigh, and finally his lips covered my clit, causing my hips to buck upward as if they had a mind of their own. He started slowly, teasing me with long, drawn-out strokes in an effort to drive me wild.

“Shal.”

He hummed a question in response, sending vibrations rippling through my core. I threw my head back at the sensation.

“Faster,” I begged. “Please.”

He did as I’d asked, hitting the small bundle of nerves with quick, patterned flicks of his tongue. I moaned as I began to feel the tension building under his skilled movements, my back arching off of the mattress.

He barred an arm across my hips, holding them down as he brought me closer and closer to my release. With his other hand, he traced his fingers around my entrance, testing my wetness with one before sliding two in, curling them over my g-spot and stretching me out.

My hands shot to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as I practically screamed at the amount of stimulation he was giving me. Galaxies exploded behind my eyes as I finally came undone. He moved up to kiss me as I caught my breath, coming down from my high.

“I love the sounds you make for me,” He said, pulling his pants down to release his already-erect cock. “Don’t hold back, okay? I want to know that you’re enjoying it too.”

The rest of our clothes were torn off and thrown into a pile on the floor. We pounced on each other with an animalistic hunger, leaving love bites on every inch of skin we came into contact with.

He sunk into me slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size, but once I wrapped my legs around his waist he started moving, torturing me with the same drawn out pace as before—the only benefit of this being that I could feel every inch of him rubbing inside of me.

“God, you feel amazing,” he said, burying his face into the crook of my neck. “It’s making it so hard for me to hold back.”

The broken rhythm of his breathing, the brush of his lips against my ear, the strokes that left me wanting more—it was all driving me crazy, making my body feel electric.

“Don’t,” I said.

That was all the convincing he needed.

He fucked into me at a reckless pace, bringing one of my legs up to rest on his shoulder to give him a better angle. He buried himself deeper and deeper, hitting the same, sensitive spot each time he snapped his hips. I arched against him, throwing my head back into a moan. I could already feel another orgasm building.

“There you go, sweet girl. Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Shal, God, just like that.”

My right hand reached to clutch the bedsheets, but he grabbed it and pinned it over my head, lacing his fingers with mine. My left hand wrapped behind his neck, holding him closer as he dipped down and caught me in a kiss. His tongue ran across my bottom lip and I granted him access, letting him explore my mouth as he pushed me closer to my second release.

His hand came between us, moving to work my clit with his thumb. I gasped at his touch. I was so close now, any second I’d—

“You got it, let it go for me.”

His words sent me over the edge. I pulled at his hair as he rode me through my orgasm, my walls clenching tightly around him. Every sensation was amplified, yet at the same time it felt as though I were experiencing the world in a warm haze. I had never felt so content.

He gave me a moment to come back down to earth before dropping my leg from his shoulder and pressing my knees to my chest. I dragged my nails down his back as he snapped his hips even faster than before, chasing his orgasm. I could tell he was getting close when his thrusts became erratic, not following any particular rhythm. Shortly after, I felt the twitch of his cock inside of me followed by a rush of warmth as he filled me with his cum.

He rested his forehead on mine, shutting his eyes tight as his chest rose and fell with exasperation. After a few final strokes, he pressed a passion-filled kiss to my lips and pulled out of me, letting his seed seep onto the bedsheets.

He laid on his back, smiling to himself as he caught his breath. “That’s not how I imagined our first sleepover would go,” he said, pulling me into his chest, “but I still had fun.”

I nodded in agreement.

He helped me clean up and we got dressed in our pajamas again before settling back into bed. I fell asleep in Shal’s arms, listening to the retro sounds of his video game.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

try it on {e.m}

Plot: Eddie gifts you a particularly special Hellfire Club shirt.

Character: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader

part of my eddie munson ‘pretty eyes’ series

One thing you hated about being fat and dating Eddie was that you couldn't wear his clothes. It seemed so trivial and silly and to anyone else, they might think that it was completely stupid and you were just being dramatic but to you, it was a real issue.

You grew up watching TV shows and movies and reading books where the girl would wear her boyfriend's shirts and it was the sexiest thing to him... That couldn't happen for you... you were too big for Eddie's clothes. You'd tried once before and it ended with you getting stuck at the shoulders and crying and getting Eddie to pull it off of you as your cheeks burned with the fury of one thousand suns. You wouldn't do that again.

Eddie knew that this was something that bothered you. He knew that it upset you that you couldn't wear his t-shirts. He had once told you how he thought it would be so sexy if you could wear his shirt but he didn't know it would upset you so much, he didn't realise that it would be something you would begin to hate about yourself. He loved your body, he didn't care if you couldn't fit into his shirts or not, he wanted you exactly the way you were so... Eddie came up with an idea.

You never saw much of Eddie for a few days. Anytime you called, he made an excuse about being too busy to hang out and rushed you off of the phone. His behaviour was pretty suspicious and you knew that something was off with him but you didn't know what so as his partner, you were determined to find out what was going on.

It was Monday night and you'd not seen Eddie since Thursday. He'd not been in school, had been making every single excuse to not see you when usually he would be making every excuse to see you. You were admittedly a little worried about him, you knew that he'd been struggling since everything that happened so going this long without seeing him was making you worry so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You'd spoken to your friends about it at school that morning and your best friend had suggested, "Maybe he's cheating on you?" which wasn't the most helpful of suggestions but that thought hadn't even occurred to you. You trusted Eddie, you trusted him with every single part of you and you knew that he wouldn't dare betray your trust. Eddie knew how important trust and open communication was to you and up until now, he'd done nothing which made you question him. Pushing those worries away, you tried to focus on Eddie's wellbeing. You needed to know that he was okay, that he was alive and well so you after having dinner, you grabbed your car keys and headed to his trailer. You just needed to know that he was alright. After everything that happened, you just needed to know that he was doing okay.

Surely he wasn't cheating on you, right? No, he wouldn't... Would he?

The drive to Eddie's only took ten minutes and then you were standing in front of his door, knocking continuously waiting for someone to answer. You knew he was home, his van still parked out front, and you could hear the music pounding from his bedroom. He was home.

You could hear shuffling from inside the trailer and you guessed it would be Eddie clambering over various pieces of furniture to get to the door. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the trailer door swung open, "(y/n)?!" He hissed, hurriedly ducking behind the door so that you could only see his head and closing the door half-way.

"Oh, so you are alive!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Never mind what I'm doing here, where the hell have you been, Munson?!" Munson, he thought, oh god I'm in trouble. You looked at the way he hid behind the door, "Why are you hiding from me?" It was then that your worry your friend had inserted into your mind and it was the only reasonable answer as to his avoidance and shiftiness, "Are you cheating on me?" It was out before you'd even really thought about it but maybe it made sense?

Eddie scoffed, "Princess, seriously?! That's ridiculous, of course I'm not!" He frowned, staring you down, "Why would you even think that?"

You rolled your eyes, "Eh, hello?" You stuck out your hand gesturing to the way he was greeting you right now, a head sticking out from behind a door, "You've avoided me for days and now you're clearly hiding your body from me. You probably have hickies covering your entire body! Prove me wrong, Munson." You didn't like that paranoia that had come from this whole situation but it was the only thing that could be happening, right?

Wrong.

Eddie huffed a loose curl away from his face, "Okay, okay," he held his hand up, "I promise I'm not cheating on you, pretty eyes. I just- I wanted to do something special for you but since you're here making wild freaking accusations, guess I'll show you."

This was it. Eddie was going to reveal himself. You held your breath as you waited for the inevitable to happen. Honestly, you didn't know what to expect when Eddie revealed himself. Although he'd said he didn't cheat on you, you were continuing to half expect hickies all over him and if that happened, you didn't quite know what you'd do. You loved Eddie and he loved you. Sure, the two of you were still pretty young but you knew months ago that Eddie was it for you. He was 'the one' as the movies say. And if he-

"Oh."

He'd opened the door to reveal him wearing a pretty large Hellfire t-shirt. The t-shirt had the same design as the other ones but it hung off of his slim frame, large and baggy. You scanned what you could see of his neck - bare.

Eddie held up his arms, "See? No hickies." He stepped aside and let you come into the trailer, closing the door behind you, "If you really don't trust me, you can check the rest of the trailer to check for any evidence I might be cheating because I promise you, I'm not."

You shook your head, "No... I- I trust you, Eds. Just need you to tell me what's going on."

He nodded, "Fair enough... Remember when I'd said it would be really hot if you wore my shirts? And then you tried and-"

"I'm too fat and I got stuck, yeah I remember." That memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, made shame burn bright in your stomach and made your cheeks heat up.

Eddie shook his head, grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit on the couch as he stood in front of you, "Pretty eyes, stop... Your body isn't too big for the clothes, it's just that the clothes are too small for your body. The clothes have to fit your body, you don't have to fit into the clothes, okay?" He gestured to himself, gesturing to the large Hellfire Club t-shirt that hung off of him, "I know how badly you wanted something of mine to wear and I know how much you wanted a Hellfire shirt so... I made you one."

"You..." Your eyes scanned him, looking at him up and down, "that's mine?"

Your boyfriend smiled, "The reason I've been avoiding you is because every waking moment for the last few days I've been wearing it, and some others, to smell like me. I know that you really wanted to wear my clothes so I got some t-shirts in your size and I've been wearing them so that they were mine for a bit and they smell like me."

"Oh, Eddie." It was impossibly sweet, something so pure and kind and loving and... it meant everything to you. You jumped upwards, wrapping him in a tight hug, breathing in the smell of him deeply, "Thank you."

Eddie grinned against your hair, peppering it with small kisses, "I'm sorry that I made you worry, Princess." He pulled back, "Now..." he tugged the shirt off of his body and thrust it into your hands, "go try it on."

You were all too excited to try it on. You'd been waiting for this moment for months and now it was here. You didn't think Eddie would do something like this, you didn't think he would've actually bought shirts in your size to wear and make smell like him. You just wouldn't have expected him to go through such effort for you but you were so appreciative and glad that he did. That was the thing about Eds, he was sweet and so freaking caring and you were so thankful that you got to see that side of him.

When you came back, he'd lit up a joint, puffing on it with his back turned to you. "How do I look?"

He turned to you and his jaw dropped. A spark was lit in his eyes as he stalked over to you, like a predator coming from his prey, "Holy shit, Princess..." he grabbed your hand and twirled you around, getting a good look at you from every angle, "I knew you'd look so damn good wearing my clothes." He leaned over, extinguishing the joint in an old ashtray, before pulling you close, hands digging into those hips that he loved so much, "Don't you dare ever think I'd cheat on you again, Princess. I love you too much to do that, got it?"

You nodded quickly, "Just shut up and kiss me, Eds."

He grinned, "Gladly," he said before crashing his lips to yours.

Oh yeah, you'd be wearing 'his' shirts a lot more now.