A CPH ARMY

INTP / ‘96 LINER / MASTERLIST / ARMY / ENGENE / CARAT

[jung-koook]

....... I have no words (cr.)

[acopenhagenarmy]

I don't think I'll keep my writing up on here - on a whim I made another blog on here a little over a year ago, one where I'm actually somewhat consistent with my writing.

I think I'll at some point go and continue especially my soulmate series on there. Until then my loves - thank you for following on here, thank you for being my first readers.

@acphengene is the name of my other blog. I hope you like what I'm writing on there

[yoongikook]

jimin and jk have developed a novel way to combat the spice

[acphengene]

Sunstorm & Eclipse

☼ pairing: jeonghan x reader, Vernon x reader, Minghao x reader, Mingyu x reader

☼ word count: 24k

☼ genre: fantasy au, friends to lovers au, soulmate au, royalty au, magic kingdom, found family, revenge plot

☼ trigger warnings: mental and physical abuse, torture, character death, murder, cutting, starving, nightmares, angst.

☼ note: I honesty can't believe it's finally done. It feels so surreal! This is my baby, it is one of the most time-consuming things I've ever written and also one of the things I'm moste proud of, so please, please, please, give me all the feedback, and reactions as you read the story. There is a few twists and turns here and there ;)

You ran through the woods as fast as your feet could carry you, as fast as anyone could being as fatigued as you were. The cuts on your feet from the branches and the stones didn’t matter, the tears that the thorns from the bushes left on your legs didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting to safety. To get as far away as physically possible from that cave. 

You had no idea how long it had been, how long you had been there. There was still no logic as to how you had escaped without anyone noticing. Had someone helped you, or had they just gotten sloppy after guarding you for so long? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you crossed the border. 

Voices bounced from the large tree trunks and you ran straight for them, hoping, begging that these were friends and not foe. 

A whine escaped your throat, but it was too dry to make a sound louder than a whisper. You felt your legs tremble beneath you and before you knew it you stumbled and fell to the ground. The speed you had been running with made sure that you rolled a few meters before the ground caught on and stilled you. 

The crash was loud enough to grab the attention of those closest by. You tried getting up, tried to will your arms to lift you, at least just enough to sit and beg for mercy. But the shackles around your wrists bored into your already torn skin, and they made it impossible for you to do anything. 

Tears streamed from your eyes as you sent a silent prayer to both the sun and the moon goddess, begging that these would be the right people to find you, that they would take you far far away from this wretched forest. 

“Over here!” You heard a man yell. He was quickly followed by a dusin men and you heard at least half of them draw their swords, the other half pulled arrows from their quivers. 

“She’s… she’s… Goddesses above, how is she still alive?” You heard one of them say as you once again tried to lift yourself from the ground. 

“Help me…” You managed to whisper. The people around you yelled out orders, the exact nature of them was impossible for you to decipher as you went in and out of consciousness. 

At some point you were wrapped in a warm cloak and lifted from the ground by a pair of strong arms. You did your best to cling to the warm body of the person who had saved you, soaking in the warmth he radiated. 

How long had it been since you were warm? Some part of you wasn't sure you ever had been, it felt as if this cold that clung to your bones had been there always, as if the sun had never touched your skin. The sun. It felt more like a dream than a memory. 

“I got you, rest now, you are safe with me” You heard a voice whisper in your ear, and then exhaustion finally took you. 

It was dark when you finally opened your eyes. The moonlight was the only source of light in the room, as if the smallest flicker of light might wake you from the deep sleep you had been in. 

You listened before you even dared to change your pace of breath, just as you had learned to do in the cave. Somewhere in the room someone wrenched a towel in a bowl of liquid, no doubt to either clean you or your wounds. 

The door slowly opened and you forced your heart to beat in a steady pace since you didn’t want to alarm your new captors. 

“How is she?” The voice that spoke was stoic, uninterested and deep. 

You heard a sigh that reminded you more of a melody than anything else. 

“Like the last time you asked, she’s alive. I’ve healed the last bit of frayed skin around her ankles and wrists. But the wound on her stomach, on her chest…” The man's voice trailed off as if he was imagining what had been done to you to make the scars. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Some of them healed so long ago. I can’t imagine how long they held her captive"   

The healer's voice quivered. It was the voice of a soft soul, one who would take the burden of another’s pain, and let it move him to tears. 

A rustle of metal was heard, and you shot from your place on the soft pillows in the bed. The metal was after all such a similar sound to those of the chains that had kept your hands and feet tied together. It was the only natural response of anyone in your position. 

The man in the armor quickly pulled his sword, as if you, this frail and harmless woman could cause any of them any danger. 

He protectively stepped in front of the healer. Both of the men were of similar build, although they had very different purposes. Where the soldiers, no, the captains, you realized as your eyes noticed the fine details in his uniform, slim figure was for speed and to make him a smaller target, the healers were from being crouched over books and people. 

You threw yourself from the comforts of the bed, and when your newly weaved skin came into contact with the cold night's air you winced in pain. The nerves hadn’t regenerated yet it would seem. The broken shell you once had called a body hit the floor and you crawled to the nearest corner, you had no one to watch your back other than the walls, so they would have to do. 

The healer stepped around the soldier and slowly pushed him out the door. “Captain you need to leave, I can’t have you traumatise her further” and as if he had hung the stars themselves in the sky, the captain nodded and left. 

“I’ll let him know” was all he said before he slipped from the room.

The healer looked at you. He observed everything, from how your heart beat in your chest to how your pupils dilated to adjust to the moonlight. Every time you moved your body screamed in protest, and as much as you tried to keep the pain away, even with the adrenaline pumping through your body, you couldn’t help how your face twisted in pain. 

“Shhh…” he said as he sat down on the foot of the bed. “You’re safe here”  

You stared at him with horror in your eyes, and you could almost taste the pity and the sorrow that radiated from him. 

For the first time since you had woken up you allowed yourself to look around the room. It was large, every window neatly decorated with shining and shooting stars. The interior was dark and silver, the walls were tall and the almost sheer white curtains were slightly blowing in the wind. 

The air was crisp, fresh and clean. You sighed deeply, and felt how your heart sang from the lack of sand and dust that entered your lungs. A breath like that alone was almost enough to take your mind from the scars and the new skin that were no doubt scattered all around your body. 

New skin. Skin that hadn’t been cut and pulled apart, skin that had never been touched. Skin that he, that they had never touched. 

The sob forced its way up your throat, and before you had a chance to stop it the cries took over your whole being. There was no stopping it, and the healer at the foot of the bed didn’t even try to comfort you, instead he let you have your emotions, he let you feel them, he let you mourn. 

For that you would always be thankful. 

You couldn’t remember if you had crawled back into bed yourself, or if you had been carried when the sobs and cries had finally stopped, leaving you passed out once more. 

It didn’t really matter, because when you woke up you were once again under the soft warm duvet. 

Against one of the windows were a large armchair, black as the rest of the interior, and in it sat the healer, book in hand. He kept reading, but something told you that he knew you were watching, so instead of pretending otherwise, you sat up and rested your body against the headboard. 

He shut the book before he looked at you. His eyes were both kind and understanding and his smile seemed genuine. It was a familiar smile. 

“Are you hungry?” is all he asked before he stood from the chair to put the book away. 

The other night hadn’t done him justice, he was slender yes but his shoulders and arms held muscles that were built by his craft. Grinding herbs and making potions usually had that effect on any man's shoulders, at least if he did it properly. 

You nodded, afraid that your voice hadn’t yet recovered. As if he could read your mind he gestured towards the small table next to the bed where a glass and a decanter stood, both filled to the brim with water. 

It was as if he had released a wild animal, because you threw yourself over it and started chucking it down without caring if you spilled down at yourself. 

When you finally came up for air, you looked at him and he let out a quiet laugh. It was a surprising sound, one you didn’t expect from him. 

He had long light hair, a stark contrast to all the black in the room, but he looked very stereotypical as the people from ‘The Moon Kingdom’. 

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh. I can't imagine how long it has been since you had access to clean water” 

You forced a smile. “It’s okay I can imagine I’m looking like some sort of wild beast” your voice was a little hoarse, but you were glad to discover you were able to get your point across at least. 

You coughed a few times in the hopes that it would warm up your vocal cords. “What’s your name?” 

The healer pulled a long braided piece of silk next to the door. “Minghao” he said before he took a few bottles and a tin can off a long table. Then he once again sat at the foot of the bed and laid them all out in front of you. 

“These are for you. I’ve tried my best to modify my usual recipes for you, but if you feel any side effects come to me at once and we’ll try to fix them together. The tonics are for your internal injuries and mostly just to give you enough vitamins to make you strong as fast as possible. The ointment is for your scars, should you wish to fade them” 

Your fingers caressed the new skin around your wrists. It felt like a crime to remove the memories your skin held, even if those memories were heartbreaking to even think of. They were a testament of survival and a reminder that you would one day get your revenge. 

“Thank you” was all you got to say before it knocked on the door. A short man opened it shortly after. He moved slowly, as if he was used to being a caretaker of frightened animals. You were used to people tiptoeing around you, but normally it had been for a different reason, normally it had been from fear. But it was that exact fear that had led you to that cave. 

You shook your head, desperate to get the memories out, and the short man seemed to stop, as if the ‘no’ was to him and not to your own mind. 

“I can come back” he said as he looked at Minghao with large eyes. In his hands he held a tray with a few bowls and you finally allowed yourself to inhale, and the smell alone was enough to stop every other thought in your head. 

Whatever the short man had cooked, it was the most divine thing you had smelt in what felt like years. Your eyes narrowed in on the large bowl and the delicious steam that came from it. 

The small man laughed. “I took the liberty to prepare a few things, proteins and probiotics to hopefully give your energy and strength. It usually help the soldiers recover quickly, my hope is it will do the same for you” 

He sat down the tray and a bowl of soup with various vegetables and sources of protein stood in the middle, on the sides there were everything from rice to different fermented vegetables and extra protein, should you feel the need to add extra. 

You almost drooled as you took the chopsticks and the spoon into your hands. “My name is Woozi, I’m the head chef here and I’ve been tasked, like Minghao, to take care of you. If you’re hungry just pull the silk string by the door and I’ll bring food to you as quickly as possible, and if you have any requests, please let me know and I’ll do my best to accommodate you” He bowed slightly. 

“Thank you” You said, but your eyes never left the food. The two men laughed. “Just dig in already, no need to hold back for our sake” Minghao said as he allowed himself to get comfortable on the bed in front of you. 

So you did, and the taste was even better than you could’ve imagined. You moaned out in pure bliss as the first bit hit your tongue, and the cook let out a victorious gesture. 

Then the two men watched over you as you ate every single bite and asked for seconds. When you had devoured your second plate you were so full that your stomach hurt, but you felt warm, and for some strange reason you felt safe. 

Minghao had spent almost every waking moment by your side, and when you slept he did so too in the chair. And within two weeks it was clear to him that you had gained enough strength to stretch your legs beyond the room. 

He saw how you looked to the windows whenever the sun shined through them. How your eyes closed automatically as you seemed to bathe in the sunlight, as you seemed to drink every ray with a need he had only ever read about. 

The behavior was common in itself, but here the people usually did it with the moonlight instead of the sunbeams. And due to the placement of the castle and the land, the sunlight was sparse. 

“How about we take a walk in the gardens around noone?” He asked one morning as you sipped your tea while reading a book. 

You perked up at that. “I’m allowed to go out?” You said and it almost broke his heart how you tried not to seem too eager. 

For a moment he had forgotten that you had been a captive, that you hadn’t had any privileges before coming here, so the mere request of leaving your room had never occurred to you. 

“You are allowed to go wherever you please” He said as he searched for your eyes. You desperately tried to avoid his. 

“I would love to… I miss the sun” You finally looked up and tears welled in your eyes. You missed the feeling of being warmed from the outside and into your very core, missed how your heart drank up the light that rightfully belonged to you and you alone. 

It was your power, it was your legacy, your birthright and your one true love. One that had been the reason for all of this, for the scars, the hurt and the heartbreak you had faced. The sun was everything to your people, but you, you had a relationship to the sun and its warmth that were uncommon. It was special, sacred. 

Minghao slowly reached out with one hand and then he laid it on top of yours. You didn’t know how long it had been since someone had touched you. 

The tears started before you had a chance to stop them, and he opened his arms to you and for once you didn’t overthink anything, instead you crawled to him and allowed once again the healer to take away your pain. Only this time it was a different kind than the physical one. 

You missed your home, you missed your family, your brother. They were all so far from you, and who knew if you would ever see any of them again. 

Minghao only held you, he didn’t ask questions, he only comforted that breaking heart in your chest. 

After a while of crying in his arms, he had helped you look presentable, and for once you stepped out of your nightgown and instead wore one worthy of a queen. The silk was soft and hugged every bone on your body, caressed every scar. Because the curves that had once been on your body were gone. 

Minghao didn’t say anything, he didn't wince and he didn’t comment on it, he was just there as silent support. In that moment it meant everything. The man before you wasn’t cruel, you had known from the moment you saw him, that he would never be. 

The two of you had laughed as he fixed both your hair, and as he tried to make your eyes appear a little less red. 

You had clinged to his arm when you had finally left the room, it had both been for support, since it had been a while since your legs had moved around that much, but also because everything in this new place scared you a little. 

The palace was huge and soldiers that were lining all the hallways you passed down on were a constant reminder of what had led you to this moment. You had to keep reminding yourself that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they were here for protection, yet you couldn’t help but feel unease. 

You grabbed on to Minghao’s sleeve a little tighter, and he laid his hands on yours to calm your nerves a little. He was a good man to have by one’s side. He told you everything there was to know about the palace, about its people. 

“The surrounding city is beautiful, at some point I will have to show it to you” He said as he helped you down a flight of stairs. At the bottom a soldier opened the door, and there laid the garden. 

It felt as if a phantom hand of pure sunlight gripped onto that little heart of yours, it felt like you could breathe again. The smell was that of flowers and vegetables, most likely from one of Woozi’s many gardens close to the kitchen. 

Minghao smiled at you, and you bit your lip to not cry once more. It reminded you of the place you had always called home. 

Not far away was a stream, and you had to restrain your mind to not run to it and slip beneath the no doubt cold water. 

“It’s beautiful” you said as he led you over a small decorated bridge to the other side of the stream. There he found a bench, one one a small hill, one in the perfect center of the garden. The spot in the garden that would get the most sunlight. 

Your hand explored the wood and the small carvings in it. It was those of both suns and stars, not the typical patterns of the night sky alone. In the middle of the back of the bench were a sun and a moon. Intertwined in one another, almost embracing. 

A smile painted your lips.

“Do you like it?” Minghao asked curiously. Instead of answering with words you just nodded. Afraid that your voice would once again fail you. It was perfect. 

“Good, now… You stay here and I’ll go fetch us some tea” he stepped away from you looking back at you once to make sure you didn’t panic. In the weeks you had been there, he had never left you alone. 

All he found was you sitting on the bench, eyes closed, looking toward the sun. It was as if the Sungoddess herself had missed you, because as you turned your palms letting them face upwards the few clouds disappeared, and the sun itself almost seemed to shine brighter, as if it welcomed you. 

You had no idea how long you sat there, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until you heard someone approaching. The steps he made seemed both curious and afraid all at once, as if you were prey he was afraid of scaring away. It seemed to be something the men in this kingdom had in common. 

You opened your eyes and turned towards the sound, and there stood a man, more beautiful than any you had ever seen. He looked like a god himself, silvery hair flowing softly in the breeze, skin that looked pale and almost cold to the touch. His features were delicate, as if he had been sculpted from moonlight, one night centuries ago. 

He sent a calm smile your way, and for some reason you couldn’t help but return it. He was familiar somehow. He was angelic in the way he moved towards you. He was, for lack of a better word, an otherworldly beauty that no doubt enchanted anyone he met. 

“I’m glad to see you’re out of your quarters” He said as he came to halt not far away from the bench, almost as if he was testing the waters. 

“I’m sorry sir, but have we met?” You asked. He drew you in and you couldn't help but turn your body towards him. It was as if fate itself were telling you that he held all the answers you had ever been looking for. 

He smiled, and it made your heart beat faster in your chest. 

“I was there that day. When they, when we, found you” he said and he almost hesitated to step closer. Yet he took one. 

It wasn’t on purpose but you recoiled and moved further away from him, leaving a space next to you on the wooden seat. He, unlike what you had expected, never stepped closer. 

“I'm sorry” You said as you looked towards your hands. At some point they had started shaking. 

“Don’t be. Your reaction is understandable given everything you have been through” You looked up at him, and there was pain in his eyes. Almost as if he knew exactly what you had been through. 

You didn’t say anything, and the silence lingered in the air. 

“Is everything to your liking?” He asked after a little while. His feet moved a little closer, yet he never really took an actual step. 

“It is” it was a short reply, one that didn’t invite him closer, one that would make any normal man turn around. But for some reason he stayed. 

“Is Minghao good to you?” he asked, and by the mere mention of your new friend's name you perked up. 

A sigh left your chest. “He is” and then you smiled. It wasn’t on purpose, in fact you tried to hold it back. But the reality was that Minghao was the only friend you had in this place, and even though you knew that he had been tasked with taking care of you, you kept trying to convince yourself that he in fact was a true friend. 

“He feels familiar somehow…” and that was the truth, he did. At that the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, as if it agreed with you. 

You sighed at the warmth that spread through your body, and when you looked back at the man, he smiled at you. As if it had been your task in a previous life to hang both sun and moon in its place in the sky. 

“He’s a good man. Loved by everyone he meets” he said. 

It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but pick up on that. 

“The two of you know each other?" He had, despite his sudden arrival, managed to peak your interest. 

He laughed, and it was a louder sound than you had anticipated, yet it was the sound only angels seemed to be able to make. 

“Yes, the two of us go way back. We grew up together” 

Your smile widened at that. “So you must have stories then?” your head crooked to the side, and your eyes betrayed you, as the mischief shined through. 

“I do” the man hesitated and took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I join you?” 

It wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but look past him to where Mingaho had disappeared to, and it made him look back over his shoulder. 

“He’ll be back soon, that much I can promise you” 

At that you only nodded and moved a little further to the side, making room for him. 

As soon as he sat beside you that familiar warmth you had felt previously seemed to seep into your bones. It wasn’t all consuming, but it was stronger than the one that Minghao seemed to radiate. 

You whipped your head towards him. “It was you!” It wasn’t a question, but more a statement. “It was you who held me” 

He seemed to release a breath at that. “Yes, it was” 

He was the one who had lifted you from the ground, the one who had held you in his arms and carried you away from the woods. 

You looked at your hands as you intertwined them with one another. “I remember your warmth” 

He turned his body towards you, and for a second it seemed like he almost feared he had reacted that way. Yet he kept his body turned towards you. 

“I think you might be one of the first people ever to describe me as warm” 

A chuckle left you then. The sound was almost strange to your own ears. Had it really been so long since someone had made you laugh? 

“You are though. You are warmer than most of the people here” 

“You would know,” he said, as he made a gesture towards the sun. 

And if anyone would, it would be you. 

You had been raised in The Sun Kingdom. You were raised beneath the blazing sun, it was what fueled your magic, it was what your very soul craved. Warmth and light was what gave you power. And that power was strange in this land, it was foreign, it was hated. 

“I’m sorry” you managed to say with a small voice. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw how his face instantly conveyed his emotions. It was nothing short of pure regret. 

“No… No! That’s not what I meant” He leaned forward as he rested his elbows on his knees, trying his best to catch your eyes. 

“It’s just that your magic is foreign. I’ve never experienced it, a light wielder like you” You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but he stretched out a palm towards you. Almost as if even the thought of your rejection made him reach out for you. 

You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m a lightwielder anymore” you said as you looked straight towards the sun. It was an act that would blind the likes of him, but for you it was second nature. The sun was afterall the goddess that had given you power. 

He moved a little closer. “You are…” his voice dripped in what felt like hope. “Minghao said it himself. He could feel it beneath your skin, he could feel it in your scars. As if light itself was what kept your injuries from taking your life” 

You looked at him, you finally met his eyes at that. And they were the night sky come to life. They were darkness incarnate. 

There was no telling how long you sat there, staring at one another, but at some point someone cleared their throat. 

The action was all it took for the two of you to divert your eyes in a somewhat indiscreet manner. 

And there stood Minghao, next to the captain that had been in your room a few weeks ago, tea tray in hand. 

“I don’t hope we’re interrupting your majesty,” Minghao said as he raised a brow at the man. 

Majesty. 

You felt your cheek blush instantly as you looked at him, at the king, with wide eyes. 

“Your Majesty? I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t know” You tried standing up to bow to him, but he only raised a hand and that alone was enough to keep you in your place. 

“To you, I’m Jeonghan. You are not a subject of mine, and although I appreciate the formalities, I think I could need a little light in my life. Something, someone, who could humble me. And I don’t know why, but I think that someone might be you” 

And with that he rose from his seat. 

“I won’t take anymore of your time. But I do hope to see you again, perhaps, same place and time tomorrow?” 

He held out his hand to you, and although every bone in your body told you not to take it, you still did. He gave it a little squeeze and with that he went with the captain, leaving you and Minghao with your tea. 

“What just happened?” The healer said as the two of you watched the two men walk away. 

“I have no idea” and you really didn’t, because this had never been a part of the plan. 

The following day Minghao once again led you to the garden, and the king, Jeonghan, was already sitting at the bench in the sunlight. 

He rose from the seat as he saw the two of you approaching. Standing next to him was the captain. And this time you had a chance to really study him. 

His eyes were hidden in a shadow from the helmet he wore as a part of the uniform, yet they seemed to hold some sort of familiarity despite the fact that they were lacking all life, they were lacking warmth. 

Your brows furrowed as you studied the rest of the captain's face. His lips were slim, pressed in a straight line, and he stood as still as a statue. He was familiar, in a way that would make it hard to describe if anyone asked. 

When you turned your attention to Jeonghan, he smiled brighter. It was contagious and you returned it, even though you had promised yourself that you would do your best to keep that heart of yours on a tight leash. To not daydream, but to be realistic. 

“I’m glad that you came” he said as he took a few steps towards as you neared the little spot he had no doubt made for you in the garden. 

Minghao pushed you towards his king with a gentle hand on the small of your back, slowly backing away to give the two of you some privacy. 

Jeonghan sent him a grateful nod that the healer returned. 

“I wanted you to meet my captain of my guard and armies” Jeonghan said as he gestured towards the man that you had just studied. “This is Vernon” 

Vernon bowed shallowly at you, and those eyes of his never left you. He scanned you from top to bottom. Almost as if he was determining if you in any way were a threat to his king. 

You returned his bow. “Good day Vernon” 

His eyes flickered, as if the sound of you saying his name was enough to wake him from a trance. His lips parted slightly, an action that most would’ve never noticed. But you did. The two of you stood there, looking into each other's very souls. 

Then he turned towards Jeonghan and gave him a deep bow, all before leaving the two of you alone as he joined Minghao. 

Jeonghan gestured towards the bench, and as much as you wanted to turn around to study the captain further, you didn’t. 

You sat down next to Jeonghan, and as your eyes locked to his, it was as if the whole world disappeared. 

“I’m glad you decided to meet me today. I will admit I wasn’t sure if you would show up” 

A little chuckle slipped out. “You are the king Jeonghan, would I have a choice?” 

His smile fated at that. “With me, in my kingdom, you will always have a choice. I want you to be free here. Free to choose and do whatever it is that your heart desires. Even if that means not spending time with me” 

“Well if that is the case” you stood, and you could see the disappointment on his face, almost as if you had caught him so off guard that he forgot to manage them. 

You stretched out your hand towards him. “I would like for you to show me the rest of the garden” 

The man perked up at that and quickly stood up beside you, extending his arm so you could grab on to it, just as you still did with Minghao. 

The two of you walked around until the sun disappeared beneath the mountain tops and made the shadows long and dark. The darkness had a way of triggering you usually. It had been impossible to sleep in it after you had been rescued, yet when you were with him, it was almost as if they pulled back, as if to not disturb you. 

“How do you like it here?” He asked as the two of you had sat down on one of the vegetable beds in Woozi’s garden. 

“I love it here” You said as you looked towards the trees and bushes that stood tall and green close by. 

“Everything is so lively, so fresh. The air is lighter and not as heavy as what I was used to back home” 

“Do you want to tell me about your home?” He asked as he interlaced his fingers. His eyes watched you, scanned you for any sign of discomfort, and when he didn’t find any his brows seemed to relax. 

You sighed gently. “I don’t know if there’s much to tell, it all seems so far away, as if it happened lifetimes ago” 

Jeonghan didn’t speak, he just sat there, and it was a silent comfort. As if he was there as support in case you needed it. You didn’t know why, if it was the comforts of this palace, that it was because it seems to have happened so long ago, or if it was because he had asked, but you decided to share. 

“I was raised outside of the walls of the castle, which wasn’t the custom of the nobility, but my father liked the feeling of not being cooped up. He also didn’t like the scheming and the manipulation that were everyday for those who lived in the castle. So he had built my mother a farm, one where she could have her horses and enjoy the space and fresh air. One where she could grow her vegetables” 

You looked around at the garden beds and felt how you almost choked up by the reminder of her, of them. You hoped that they were safe, that they were okay. You pulled your legs a little closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees as you looked towards the king. 

“We loved it there, it was home you know” you shrugged. “My brother used to tease me that some nobleman had to whisk me away from there, because if I had to be the one tending to the vegetables and making all of us dinner, if I was left in charge, then we would starve” 

A little laugh escaped your throat, and Jeonghan joined you. “Not good at tending to things?” He asked in an almost teasing manner. 

Your eyes found his and you saw the sparkle of mischief that shone there. You smiled at him, a wide genuine smile. It seemed like it had been years since you had smiled like that. 

You shook your head no, and stayed silent after that. Your eyes jumped from the vegetables, to the trees and to the dark night sky. 

“Where did you mind go just now?” he asked as he dared to move a little closer to you. 

You took a deep breath. “I miss him”. Your breath shook when you released it. 

Jeonghan smiled. “I’m sure you’ll see him again some day. Maybe we can figure out a way, to get your family here” 

Another shake of your head. He let you sit there in silence, he didn’t pressure you, he didn’t push you to tell him, even if you could feel his curiosity. 

“They took him fist” it was the only four words you could manage to get out. Jeonghan stiffened, as if he knew exactly what you were referring to. You hid your face in your hands which led to him, almost automatically, eliminating all space that was between the two of you. 

“And when they didn’t get what they needed from him, that was when they came for you” he said silently, as if he already knew your story. 

You raised your head and looked straight at him.

Delicately he removed a strand of hair from your face, all the while his thumb gently caressed your cheek. 

It hadn’t been on purpose, but it had been so long since anyone had touched you like that, so nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand as you let a single tear loose. 

He wiped that away too. 

“You’re safe here,” he said, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes, you knew that he meant it. 

“Excuse me, my King” a voice echoed through the small courtyard. 

The two of you flew away from one another, before turning to the man who had managed to sneak up on you. 

It was Woozi. “Dinner is almost ready, and I was wondering if the servants should set an extra plate at the table for you miss?” 

He was more polite around the king than he was when it was only you and Minghao around. Which did make sense, yet you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

Jeonghan smiled at you. “What do you say, want to do me the honors and join me for dinner?” He stood up and extended a hand towards you. 

You looked first at the hand, and then at him. You smiled as you reached out for it and let him take you to the dining hall. 

It had become a tradition for you to eat dinner with Jeonghan since that night. Another tradition was that you in the mornings woke up the entire wing up with your screams. 

The nightmares would be haunting anyone in your position, but you were getting so tired of screaming, of having to think back of all that you had lost. 

Jeonghan had given Minghao the room next to you, to make it easier for him to be of assistance. 

He was typically there by your side before you had even fully awakened. You cried and that morning the dream had been especially brutal, because that night it hadn’t been your nightmare, it had been his. 

“It was just a dream” The healer kept repeating as he stroked your hair, and his words made you cry even harder. 

“It’s okay, just get it out” 

There was no judgement, only support in his voice. He had never specifically asked what had happened, something told you that he had his own reasons for not wanting to know. 

After you had catched your breath, Minghao stood up and pulled the silk string, to tell the kitchen that the two of you were ready for breakfast. You did your best to gather your thoughts but the images flashed before your eyes every time you closed them. 

Minghao had sat down in his chair as he silently watched you trying to comb your hair. The food came and he made the tea ready for the two of you, before sitting back down with his plate. 

“Who’s Chan?” he finally said, and he watched you with almost sad eyes as he saw how you stiffened by the mere mention of his name. 

You sat down your cup. “He was my brother, my twin” you lifted one of your shoulders, it looked almost like a shrug you had given up on. 

The healer only nodded. “What happened to him?” 

You played with your duvet, twisting the soft comforter around your fingers, as if you needed to occupy your hands. 

“He was taken, just like I was. Apart from that I don’t know” 

When you met Minghao’s eyes, he only gave you a tightlipped nod. It made you wanna continue and for once, actually open up. 

“All I know is that he died years ago. I felt it, not that I felt what they did to him, but it was as if the world lost its light, lost its magic. Like it stopped spinning and everything ceased to matter” 

Minghao sighed deeply. “It’s what gives me hope” 

You looked at him with a raised brow. He leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his hands together, almost as if just speaking about it made him lose all his warmth. 

“I have a twin too” he smiled, and you moved a little closer to him, not saying anything, just letting your new friend share his story, just as he always allowed you to do. 

“His name is Junhui, but I always just called him Jun. He was a healer too, but he is better with the mental injuries than I ever was. A total mess when it came to the physical ones however” he chuckled and you smiled with him. 

“I think he would like you” 

“You think?” you teased back, and he nodded. “What happened to him?” 

“He was sent on a mission to research sun storms. One of Jeonghan's scholars, Wonwoo, had read about them and he was interested in just what power they might have. He had apparently found something a year or so prior, but the work he did ended up blinding him permanently” 

You sat completely still as you listened to his story. They had been looking for sunstorms. It was pure magic, one that like eclipse magic, came directly from the goddesses, but it was rare, so rare that there were really only prophecies and legends tied to it. 

“You don’t say no when your king asks something of you, and he was eager for an adventure, had always wanted to see what laid beyond our borders, and this was his chance, so he went without a second thought” 

Minghao looked to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to not let his tears fall. 

“But he never came back, and he never reached out to say that he had found peace, that he was okay” 

You moved closer and sat on the footrest in front of the chair. “Did Jeonghan do anything?” 

He took a deep breath. “Yeah he sent spies and soldier, but no one ever returned, and after the fifth time, he told me it would be best to just accept whatever had happened to him” 

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I think he’s still out there, he has to be. Because as you say; I would’ve felt it in the world if he had been taken from me” 

The tears finally fell and all you could do was embrace your friend as his heart broke. You felt and understood his pain more than any one else. Yet it was impossible for you to give him any kind of reassurance, it was impossible for you to tell him the two would meet again. But you so dearly wished that you could heal that heart of his. Maybe someday. 

So instead you held him, just like your friends had held you when you had lost your brother. 

Your talk with Minghao that morning had peaked your interest, and the mention of sunstorms and the scholar, had you wondering not only what the libraries had of hidden stories about your old kingdom, but what secrets might be found of the new one you called home. 

It hadn’t taken more than just a simple question before Jeonghan had already arranged a date for him to show you around the massive place. And it was as beautiful and grand as any royal library. 

He talked with passion about his forefathers, the magic system of his land and his people. He was excited to share, and you drank up any information that he gave you. Your mind was hungry, hungry for knowledge, and you were lucky that he wanted to give it to you so freely. 

His hands lingered on the small of your back, an act that made your breath hitch every now and then. Every time it did you felt how the blush crept up in your cheeks and it earned you a smile from the King, one of pride and satisfaction. 

“Last but not least, this is Wonwoo” Jeonghan said as they got to the end of the room, and true enough behind one of the desks sat a wide-shouldered man in dark glasses. 

You bowed politely, even though the man had lost his vision. He smiled in return. “It’s good to finally meet you, welcome to my little slice of paradise” Wonwoo said as he gestured to the room. 

“Wonwoo might be the smartest man in my kingdom” Jeonghan whispered in your ear, making you blush as his breath and lips caressed the shell of your ear. 

“You’re being too kind, your majesty” the scholar said as he humbly lowered his head. 

“I think i might have a new student for you” the king said as he pushed you closer to the man. 

You stumbled a little as you looked back at him with what looked like a bit of annoyance and embarrassment. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s only natural for a girl with your background to want more information” 

There was no doubt that Wonwoo knew exactly who you were and where you had come from, but none the less it seemed like he had agreed to teach you. 

And as the weeks went by, he did. 

There was a constant stream of knowledge, about the stories of how the kingdoms had been split in two and about the prophecies about children born who would bring peace to said kingdoms. There were books upon books about politics, about the people of The Moon Kingdom and its history and how they had been ruled in millenia. 

There were bits and pieces that you as an individual did not agree with, things you thought could’ve been executed better, but you only scribbled them in your notes instead of voicing them with Wonwoo. 

You had learned after the first time you had voiced an opinion, that the man did not care for it. He had left without even entertaining you. 

It had taken you a while to get comfortable with the blind man. He was, much like the laws of the Kingdom, strict and silent as the night itself. After that first question, you had quickly realized that there was no room for interpretations of the old text, there was no bettering them, because according to the scholar and his king, they had been written by smarter people than them, so there was no reason for anyone to change them. Men. 

“Have you ever seen sunstorm or eclipse power?” You asked the man one afternoon. 

He looked up from his book and stared at you. “Does it look like I can see anything?” he said in a stoic manner. 

You rolled your eyes. “I assume that you haven’t always been blind?” 

Wonwoo shut his book in front of him. “You’re getting more and more sassy as time goes by, aren’t you girl” he slung out the word as if it was an insult. 

“You might be the Kings guest, maybe even his friend, but that does not give you the right to know about the secrets of this Kingdom” 

You stuck out your tongue at him, and he sent you a stern look, as if he could see the gesture. 

He waved a hand, dismissing you, and you were quickly out the door. Book in hand as usual, if he didn’t want to teach you about that kind of magic, you would just have to research it yourself. 

That night you sat and poked to your dinner, the thoughts of eclipses and sunstorms was nothing short of a whirlwind in mind. 

Wonwoo had only made you more curious, and unfortunately you had become more and more like your old self over the last couple of months. They had made room for you to be your true self, and it had made it all so much easier. 

But that also meant that the stubbornness was slowly coming to the surface. And that part of you had always been an acquired taste. 

Jeonghan looked at you as he chewed his food. He laid down his spoon before scooping your hand in his. It had become a gesture you had gotten so used to, that you didn’t even flinch. Instead you just intertwined your fingers with his, an action that always made him grin. 

“What is it, my ember?” he had given you a nickname, it was a sweet and kind gesture, one that usually made Vernon make a face of discomfort. 

You sighed. “I was at the library today…” 

“As per usual” Jeonghan said, you reached out and gently hit his shoulder, it earned you a laugh from the king. He gestured for you to keep telling your story. 

“And I asked Wonwoo if he had ever witnessed eclipse or sunstorm powers, but he refused to answer. He as good as insulted me instead” You pouted a little. But Jeonghan had gone quiet, stiff almost. 

As soon as you noticed you leaned closer. “He has, hasn’t he?” You asked with a more quiet tone. 

Jeonghan looked towards Vernon, who shook his head so little that most people wouldn’t even be able to notice the gesture, but as with everything the captain did, you noticed. 

The King sighed. “I can’t tell you here” he let go of your hand and continued with the meal, and suddenly you had lost all appetite. You were desperate to learn more, especially when the scholar had refused to. 

Jeonghan sighed, then he scooped up his plate, and took your hand, and pulled you along after him. 

You laughed, and as you left the large dining hall, happy you had gotten your way. You looked back at Vernon with a victorious smile, but he looked devastated, broken almost, and the previous flutter of happiness were quickly morphed into a pit in your stomach. 

The walk to Jeonghan's private balcony wasn’t long, but due to Vernon’s reaction to his king's willingness to discuss it all with you, it made you wonder if this secret really was one you wanted revealed. 

You sat up at the stone reeling, and Jeonghan put his plate of food beside you, taking a bite before finally looking towards you. 

He smiled, and crossed his arms before his chest. 

“Many years ago my parents ordered one of their captains to kidnap a child from The Sun Kingdom. He was born in the nobility and the rumors in the court was that he would have sunstorm powers when he grew up. My dad decided that a power like that would be catastrophic to leave in the hands of our enemy” 

You moved a little closer to him. Desperate to hear more. You had of course heard of the tale when you were a child. A child stolen in the castle at night. It was why your parents had decided to take Chan and yourself and leave the fortress behind. Your mother had been terrified that something would happen to the two of you as well. 

“As the child grew, they… or I guess we, quickly realized that he did not have the sunstorm powers, but instead he had other gifts, talents. So we kept him close, raised him, molded him into a soldier. Some of his sunpower is suppressed, just enough to not make anyone too suspicious. But he is powerful. His flame is white like moonlight, and it burns unlike anything I have ever seen. It flame and shadow all at once” 

Jeonghan smiled, and it was a dangerous and wicked thing. He was fascinated by the power, that was clear to see, he was proud that he had such a weapon at his disposal. 

You nodded. “I’m glad that you kept him alive, that you found use of him. That you didn’t disregard him like” you sighed. “Like they did with Chan” 

The king reached out for you, he held your head in his hands as his dark eyes searched yours. “I promise you my ember, that one day we will find those responsible for your brothers death, and when that happens, I will allow you to do whatever you wish to those monsters” 

There was a glimmer there, in your eyes. You could see it reflected in his. It was a promise of destruction, of revenge. That day in the forest, when the two of you had met the first time. That day had been nothing short of fate, the goddesses themselves had let you to the man who would help you get your revenge. 

He grinned, and you returned it. 

One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you closer to him, allowing your forehead to press against his. 

“Everything you want to do is justified, I won't stand in your way for your revenge” 

You smiled a little wider. “Well I guess that means I might need to start training then” 

Jeonghan laughed then and pulled you from the railing, he pulled you close and your hands snaked behind the back of his neck. 

“I guess it does” 

He took your hand to lead you away from the balcony. “This child, or I guess he’s a man now, does he have the power of the eclipse then?” You asked as you slowly rested your head on Jeonghan's shoulder. 

“We don’t know yet. There’s never been a recorded case of the eclipse power, at least not in my kingdom, but I think he might be the best bet” Jeonghan extended his arm to you, and you quickly took it. 

“I guess that makes sense, a power like that would most likely get stronger as the years passed” You thought out loud, and Jeonghan only hummed in response. 

“I’ve never heard of anyone with sunstorm powers, I know the legends say that they’re from The Sun Kingdom, but if he was from there and has eclipse powers, then maybe the sunstorm powers is something you’ll find in your own kingdom?” 

“That could be, but I have it on good authority that , that is not the case” 

You hummed. “I don’t know what your tales says about the eclipse powers, but I do know a little about what my old people said about the sunstorm powers” 

Jeonghan pulled you a little closer, urging you to go on. You could feel the interest bubbling beneath his otherwise calm demeanor. 

“It was said that one family would have their middle child carry sunstorm powers. But that if he was not protected, if he died, The Sun Kingdom would lose its right to the powers. The theory was that one from your kingdom would instead be blessed with them. In a similar way if you would fail to protect your eclipse power, then one from our Kingdom would gain the power” 

You looked up at Jeonghan as you tightened your grip on his arm. He, however, was lost in thought, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. 

A smile spread on your lips as you let him have his thoughts all to himself. 

All you had gotten was a place and a time. That and a new wardrobe for you to use for training, the fine silk dresses would make it a little difficult to move around like you would need to. 

You stood there and waited. The room was completely empty. Not one soldier had shown up, and you wondered if it was because they had been ordered to stay away. 

The hall was large, scattered with weapons and equipment. You admired it all, studying every little thing on the walls as you recalled how you would soon need to move and stretch your body to operate them. 

Fighting had always been something you had loved to do growing up. Your powers had never been strong, they hadn’t been deadly as Chan’s had. They were a gift yes, but a common one of the people you belonged to.

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault there aren’t people here. My men need the moonlight and the darkness to train with their powers, the sun will do them no good” Vernon said as he entered the hall. 

He was in casual clothes, without his usual plates of armor. It was dark, and you finally had a chance to actually observe the captain. The two of you were alone after all. 

He walked with confidence and there was something so elegant about the way he moved. It was as if he expected the ground beneath his feet to be there, not because it had always been the way of the world, but because he needed it there, and he expected it to comply with his wishes. 

“Let’s see what you got” he still had a hat on, once again shielding his eyes from you. You furrowed your brows and he sighed when you didn’t follow his command. 

“Show me that fire of yours” he said again, as if his first statement had been too difficult for you to understand. 

You shook your head to release your mind from the thoughts that ran through it, as they always did when you looked at the captain. 

You raised a palm and an orb of fire appeared a few centimeters above your palm. It had been a while since you had summoned it, so it was weak and kept flickering. 

Vernon only nodded. There was nothing in his demeanor that indicated whether he was disappointed or impressed. He took a step aside and revealed a dummy who stood in the other end of the room. 

He pointed to it. “That’s your target,” he said. You laughed a little, but the captain kept his stoic facial expression as he looked at you. You seemed to bore him more than anything. 

“Are you serious?” You asked as the smile slowly disappeared from your lips. You raised a brow with the question, and he only nodded. 

You tried your best, but the little fireball never reached close to the doll, it only came a quarter of the way before it plopped down on the ground, and went out. 

Vernon released a huff of air, it was almost a grunt. “Pathetic” you heard him whisper beneath his breath. You sent another ball of fire towards the intended target, it got closer, but it was still no way near it. 

Vernon crossed his arms over his chest as he shook his head with a smile on his lips. He was baiting you, you knew that he was. Everything he did, he did to get a reaction from you. And it was working. 

It took you an hour and a half to get the little ball of light ¾’s of the way to the target, and at that point you were heaving for air. Your hair was damp, and your shirt was clinging to your back due to the sweat. You were exhausted, but you refused to give up. 

The captain stepped in front of the target once again, almost as if he was shielding it from your so-called attacks. “We’re done for today” 

Your hand fell to your side and the fire went out. “What? But I didn’t even get to-” 

He held up a hand to silence you, and the mere gesture was enough to light a fire under your ass. 

“I needed to know how much you are capable of, what you can do when well rested and how it looks when your reserves are starting to run dry” 

You looked down at your hands as you once again tried to summon the fire, but nothing came when you called. The fire was out, there was nothing left, and he had known before you had

You furrowed your brows as your legs gave out under you. 

“You’re exhausted” Vernon said as he came to your side, a sack of water in his hands, one he quickly passed to you. “And you’re hanging on to rage” 

The sack was as good as empty when you replied. “Isn’t that a good thing?” It was a question you didn’t expect him to answer. Your tone was annoyed, sharp, and if anyone had spoken to you like that, you would’ve left them to deal with their temper tantrum alone. 

“It’s not,” he said before he sat down beside you. He held out his hand, his palm facing the ceiling. “Anger is a fleeting emotion. Sure, it’s a strong one, but it loses power over time, it has no real anchor point. Anger can give you an instant surge of power, but what I want from you, what I want to teach you, is to dig deep, and find that one emotion or memory that brings you peace” 

A bright ball of pure white light appeared in his hand, it was blinding, and when you wanted to look away from it, Vernon did a small flicker of his finger, and the ball flew from his palm to the target, the mere impact causing it to light up in what almost looked like silver flames. 

Despite your exhaustion you were at your feet in an instant. You looked at the flame like light for no more than a split second, and then they were gone, as if they had in fact never existed and so was the target, there was nothing left.

“How did you do that?” You turned to him, and you could feel the joy and excitement that roared through your body. It had been so long since you had experienced even something similar to his power. 

Vernon stood, a small smile on his lips, one you had never seen on his lips before. “I use a memory, of the people I love most in this world, of my home and my family” 

Despite the fact that his eyes were hidden in shadow, you could’ve sworn you saw a shimmer and a sparkle in them by the mere mention of said memory. That is new.

You smiled at him. “Okay, let’s meet again tomorrow” You reached out to give the captain your hand, and as quickly as his smile had appeared, it was gone again. 

Vernon turned on his heel and walked towards the door. “Same time tomorrow, Spark” he stopped in his tracks. As if the name he had just given you had come as a surprise to even him. 

A warmth spread through your body, and you felt your breath hitch. In that moment all you wanted was to run up to him, force him to say that again. But you couldn’t, it was as if his words had nailed you to the ground. 

You would be there tomorrow, you would learn everything he wanted to teach, to get stronger, and hopefully at some point, the captain would trust you enough to finally tell you who he was. 

The next few months were a series of the same routine over and over again. The mornings you spend with Minghao, getting breakfast, drinking tea in the garden, slowly healing both your mind, your body and your soul. 

The thoughts of the kidnapped child Jeonghan had told you about had never left your mind, you looked for any indicator of a man who was even remotely different to his peers, wherever you went on the castle grounds. You studied every soldier, nobleman and servant, yet he was nowhere to be found. 

Or else they had managed to completely suppress the Sun side of him, maybe he was hiding in plain sight. You did have your theories of course, but at that point in time they were nothing more than that. And you did after all have more pressing matters to attend to. 

After lunch you would train with Vernon, slowly building up your stamina and your muscles. As each day passed you could run faster, hit harder and summon more and more fire. The fire got easier to control, to throw and to master. You knew it would take time to master and you didn’t mind the work that much, it gave you a purpose, a goal to work towards. 

The evenings were spent with Jeonghan, taking walks throughout the castle, having him teach you the way of his land and its magic. The two of you had dinner every night, growing closer, more intimate. And typically the two of you would end up on a couch in the library, each a book in hand, limbs intertwined. 

The king would pull you as close to him as humanly possible whenever he thought you had fallen asleep. It was a gesture that warmed your heart, that made you feel a sense of pride. He would cradle you in his arms, and carry you back to your quarters where he would tuck you in, on those nights where you had no energy to get up yourself.  

Everyone knew that he wanted you by his side, that his heart had come to belong to you and you alone. It was something Woozi and Minghao teased you with each morning, something that made you roll your eyes at them, all while secretly wishing they were telling the truth. 

He never acted on those desires. His hands always lingered, his eyes shone like the stars in the sky, yet he never expressed his emotions. People always said actions spoke louder than words, and normally you would agree. 

But Jeonghan wasn’t no ordinary man, he was a king and a ruler. There were laws about who he was allowed to love. There were advisory boards and nobility families that had to be appeased in any match of his. And as much as you sometimes wish the stars would align for the two of you, you also knew that, that was nothing more than a childish dream. 

After breakfast and tea one morning, Minghao and Woozi had both asked if they could accompany you to your training with Vernon, and since you had gotten better, you saw no reason for them not to watch along. 

The pair took a seat against one of the walls and when Vernon walked in, they both waved at him, he looked taken aback at the spectators. Some part of you was a little afraid that he would scold you for bringing them along, so you went up to him as he gathered the things he would need for that day's lesson. 

“I hope you don’t mind, they asked if they could come and I-” 

“It’s fine” he cut you off. 

It had been your hope that he would slowly open up to you, but that hadn’t been the case, on the contrary. It seemed like he took one step back, every time you tried taking one forward. 

The nickname that had slipped out at your first training also hadn’t made an appearance again since. Some days you even thought you had imagined him saying it. 

You nodded and found your place in the middle of the room. You had hit the target more and more over these past few weeks, your orbs of fire got faster with each passing day, which only meant you got more and more confident in your abilities. 

Vernon stepped in front of the target, and you waited for him to give you orders. But the man stood still, and he didn’t say a word. 

A small tilt of your head and a raised brow was enough of a question for him to reply. 

“Since you’re so confident in your own abilities that you’ve gathered an audience, you will be training with a moving target today, a target that fights back” 

Your mouth opened in chock. “But we’ve never done that before” was all you said. 

He smiled sinisterly. “We have to try it some time, so why not now?” Vernon summoned his own power and threw it at you. 

It took you a second to realize what he had planned, so when you moved you could feel the cold that ebbed from that bright white light, so close to your face that it almost knocked the air out of you. 

“In the goddesses' names, have you lost your mind?!” you yelled back at him. 

Vernon only shrugged. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Minghao rise from where he was sitting. 

“What?” was all Vernon said, as he threw another white ball of light your way. This time you had seen it coming and quickly retaliated. 

“Not bad” Vernon said after he had avoided your counter attack. It didn’t even get close to hitting him. “If what you wanted to hit was nothing I mean” 

Two of his lights flew your way, and you ducked and rolled out of their path before shooting fire his way, this time it was more a stream of it, instead of small blasts. He was getting under your skin, he was baiting you once again, as he had done so many times. 

“Are you getting mad?” He asked, and you could’ve sworn you saw one of his eyes sparkle in their usual shadows. 

“No” you responded in a stern voice, he only laughed coldly. 

“We’ve talked about this, find a memory, of something or someone you love” 

Another blast flew from his hands, one of which almost hit your shin. 

Your chest heaved for air, you felt how you were slowly running out of energy, how your magic was draining as you desperately tried to keep up with the captain. 

He stopped and crooked his head to the side as he watched you, as a predator watched its prey. 

“What’s the matter? Don’t have anyone you love? Or have they all just decided to leave you behind?” He spat out the words and you felt your whole body go cold. 

You didn’t even think, instead you pulled every bit of sun and fire that were in your veins, you summoned every spark inside of you, even those who hid out in the darkest depths of your soul. 

Rage over took you and as you prepared to attack the captain, Minghao yelled out Vernon’s name, not in warning of your attack, no he hadn’t noticed your stance. He yelled out in protest, he yelled out on your behalf, to put the captain in check. 

And as you threw every bit of sun magic you had inside of you, Vernon's way, he was caught off guard because of the voice of both of your friend. 

The fire flew from your hands before you even had a chance to rail it back in, it travelled faster than it had done in any previous training sessions with the captain. But he didn’t notice, as his eyes were still looking at Minghao. 

All you could do was scream, and you did, you screamed your own nickname for him.

“Sol!” It was a broken sound, one that bounced off the walls of the training hall. Even after the fire had found its mark. 

The fire hit him hard, it hit him before he had a chance to jump out of its path, and it knocked him off his feet and threw him to the floor before it engulfed him in flames. 

You ran to him, and when you were halfway across the room you heard him. He didn’t scream in pain, as they usually did, he didn’t yell. The captain of the guard was laughing. 

It stopped you in your tracks, and you gaped at the man as he slowly sat up, all the while your fire danced around him and his skin, it was as if you were watching a curious creature welcome an old friend it hadn’t seen in years. 

And you felt your heart stop in your chest, you felt how the memories that had been hidden away somewhere within you, all came back to you. You remembered the nickname, his and your own. You remembered everything. 

You felt how your knees wobbled, how they gave out beneath the realization of who you had been standing before all these weeks, these months. 

Vernon was quickly on his feet, and as your flames went out, he quickly barked an order to both Minghao and Woozi to get out, and despite some hesitation they did. 

As the door closed behind your friends you looked to him, and for the first time he smiled at you. It was awkward, as if there was fear hidden behind it. 

“I’m sorry, but I just… I needed to see what would happen if you attacked me” He took a hesitant step towards you. 

The man before you was no captain of the guard, he was not a soldier, it was a man that resembled a boy, a boy that was terrified of the possible rejection that laid on his path. 

“When did you know?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes, your chin vibrating with both happiness and sorrow intertwined. 

He shrugged. “Since you got here I think. I couldn’t place why I felt so protective over you, why I was looking for dangers that might attack you and not the king, whenever you were in the same room. It’s not normal for me to be that unfocused” 

He looked at his hands as he slowly pulled at his fingers. 

 “What are you doing here Spark? We both know you aren’t safe anywhere, not while he is still alive. Besides, since when do you leave Chan's side for more than a day?” 

He chuckled and you furrowed your brows at his statement. 

“You don’t know…?” 

“Don’t know what?” 

How you hadn’t realized it sooner was beyond you. You reached for him, arm stretched towards him. He moved towards you instantly, sitting down beside you on the floor. Pulling you close to him. You allowed him to hold you for a few minutes before you were gonna destroy the hope you felt lingered in his heart. 

“I can’t believe this is actually real. You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this” 

A single tear fell from his eyes, it was one of happiness, and you couldn’t help but smile. You rested a hand on his cheek as you made him look at you. He hesitantly reached up and removed that damned hat. 

As expected, his eyes were a perfect match to your own, hidden in darkness so that no one would find out that the captain was in fact not from this kingdom, but from yours. The child that was kidnapped in the night so many years ago. 

The only difference was a slight silver ring around his pupils, as they had always been. 

“Hansol” you said and he smiled, it had probably been years since someone had called him by his given name. 

You stroked his cheek, and the smile on his lips disappeared. 

“Who?” he asked in a serious voice. 

“Chan” You said. 

He pulled away from you and held your hands in his. He shook his head. “No, no it can’t be. If he was gone I would’ve known. If he was gone they would’ve told me!” 

“Hansol… It’s why I’m here” He froze at that. As the puzzle pieces seemed to click into place, he went pale. 

“You want revenge…” he said as he swallowed once, twice. 

You nodded. 

“What if he find-” 

“He won’t” you said, there was no reason to put it out into the universe. 

Hansol pulled you even closer to his chest as he silently rocked you back and forth as your mother always had. 

“Please just let it go, I just got you back, I can’t lose you too” he buried his head in the crook of your neck. 

“I promise you won’t lose me, even if the goddesses claim me before my time, then I’ll be by your side, just as I’m sure Chan is by ours” 

The two of you held each other, and if it had been possible for human eyes to look behind the veil of your own world, the two of you would’ve seen the missing piece to both of your lives embracing you both. The soul of Chan, still lingering by your sides.

The missing petal of a fire clover, the middle brother of your sibling flock of three. For the longest time you had thought you had lost both of your brothers, you were happy to find out you still had one left. 

The workouts with Hansol had suddenly gotten a lot more fun. You enjoyed each other's company, you shared memories and stories with him about your parents, and he shared stories about his life in the castle you now both called home. 

You told him about the day you had lost Chan, how it had felt as if the sun itself were shedding a tear over the loss of one of its most precious children. 

He never asked about the cave, how you had ended up there. Something told you he knew exactly what had happened after the death of your brother. 

Jeonghan had noticed the change in you and his captain, and to your surprise it pleased him. On one of your evening walks he decided to open up a little more than he had done previously. 

“Vernon is a menace. He’s strong, stoic and powerful. But I grew up with him” he smiled as he looked up at the stars, they reflected in his dark eyes and for a second it looked as if they were the true night sky. 

Even after all this time he still managed to take your breath away. 

“He never really had any friends because… Well never mind that” he shook his head. “But neither had I” 

You raised a brow. “So are you telling me your highness that no one wanted to befriend the future king?” 

Jeonghan laughed and pulled you closer to him. Your heart started beating faster at the sheer proximity. 

“Of course they did, but for all the wrong reasons. The children had been ordered by their parents to befriend their future king, not because they actually liked me, but because it could mean a secure future for their house” 

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on children” You only said. 

Jeonghan hummed. “Unfortunately it’ll be one… my children will inherit one day aswell” 

You pulled away from him at that. It was the neutral thing to do when rejection was staring you in your face. 

“My ember…” He said as he reached out for you. 

You gave him a polite smile. “It’s okay. I should get back to my cambers anyways, it’s getting late, and what would the nobility think if they saw their king with someone like me” 

“Please” was all he managed to say as he moved with you, desperate to have you close to him, even when you tried to remove yourself from him. 

“Your majesty” was all you said before turning from the king. 

You wanted to know more about Hansol's story. But how could you listen to it when he so blatantly had rejected you? 

His kids, his kids he would have with someone that wasn’t you. There was no other choice than to leave him, anyone in love would be devastated by those words. 

All you could do was hope that he would be just as devastated by how you removed yourself from him, that he would change the rules, that he would convince them that you were the queen this kingdom needed. 

But that was a childish dream. 

The morning after Minghao came to your chamber. It was later than usual. 

“No nightmare?” He asked as he looked at you from his chair, all the while you prepared the tea for once. 

You just shrugged. “Why would I need a nightmare when I’m living in one?” You hid behind your hands dramatically. 

Minghao leaned forward in his chair and reached out for you. “What are you talking about?” 

You turned on your heel and looked at him. His eyes were large with concern although he was smiling. You knew that he would protest when you told him, you knew he would do his best to change your mind about the decision that had been brewing in your head since last night. 

“I think I might need to move out of the castle” you said as you bit your lip. 

He was up in an instant. “And who gave you that stupid of an idea?” 

You shrugged, because how were you to tell the healer that it was because of his king? It was getting too difficult. You knew that Jeonghan felt something towards you, yet he refused to act on it, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were getting impatient. 

If he could not give you what you wanted, what your soul craved, you would have to find someone who could. 

Minghao looked at you with eyes that seemed to look right through you. “How about we switch it up a bit then?” 

You turned your body to face him. “Switch it up, how?” 

The man smiled. “Well I’m pretty sure Jeonghan has set up an account for you, so how about we go on a bit of a shopping spree?” 

Minghao raised a brow as he smirked at you. 

A high pitched sound left your mouth. The silk dresses you had been parading around in were beautiful, and you were more than grateful, but they were in colors that did not match your complexion even a little bit. 

He laughed at your reaction. “Finish your food and we’ll go out to town okay?” 

Instead of answering you quickly began stuffing food into your mouth. 

The city was beautiful, the streets were filled with little shops and cozy cafes. It was almost as if you had been transported back to when you were still a child. Transported back to a time where you had no expectations, nor worries. 

Minghao understood what the latest styles were, and he knew exactly where to find the shops that were worthy of bringing it all to life. The two of you were laughing and feeling your best as you left the third shop of the day, bags in hand with smiles painted on your faces. 

You crossed over a plaza where two girls stood in the middle and sang a song. Their voices bounced off the walls and made a natural echo. It sounded as if the two archangels had decided to let their voices flow. 

It stopped you completely in your tracks, yet you seemed to be the only one. 

“It’s beautiful” You said, almost breathless. 

Minghao nodded as he let out a small hum. 

“How come we’re the only one listening in?” You looked at your friend and saw him open his mouth once, he had a pained expression. 

“They are here every day, trying to collect coins to help their parents gather enough to pay the tithe” 

The healer looked almost embarrassed. 

“Tithe” you said as you looked down at the bags you held in your hands, the bags filled with silk, lace and stones expensive enough to feed a family for years. 

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had read of the tithes in the library, read of how every family was expected to pay a certain amount to the nobles, to sustain their way of living. But you had expected it to be an old system, one that was not upheld any longer. 

“Minghao… We need to return all of this” 

He looked at you with sad eyes. “There’s nothing that you can do for them” 

Your head whipped towards him. “By the goddesses, of course there is”. 

When every dress and every piece of jewelry had been returned, you approached the two girls, and said that you would love to meet their parents. 

They had taken you down small and dirty pathways of the city, down allies filled with filth, next to people that all looked like they were on the brink of starvation. It felt like a knife was twisting in your heart. 

This was not how it should be, this was not how it could be. People could say what they wanted about the sun king, and you could say more than most, but no one in The Sun Kingdom was left to fend for themselves like this. 

You had given the girl's parents a pouch of gold, and told them that if their girls ever needed anything, that all they needed was to send word for you. 

Their mother had wept, and their father had thanked you profusely. 

Then they let you to the next family, another that like them needed the help, and you helped them as well. 

You went from door to door through the slums, in the shadows of the castle that you had been cooped up in for months while people starved. You had not known, but you knew now, and it was about time that someone did something for these people. 

“Are you a princess?” a little boy had asked as his mother had told him that they could finally afford food. 

“No little one, I’m just a little light in the dark” 

When you returned to the castle that night Minghao had hugged you a little tighter than usual. “Thank you” he had said with tears in his eyes. 

You had only kissed his cheek as a response. 

That night you slept peacefully. 

Jeonghan had been busy after the day you and Minghao had spent in the city. He was running to and from meetings, and for the first time since he had invited you to join him for dinner, he hadn’t shown up. 

It broke a part of you, you thought that you meant more to him than you did, you thought that you knew the king better than that, you thought… 

It didn’t matter what you thought, you were wrong and that meant you had to plan accordingly. You had spent your days in the sun in the garden, scribbling away in a notebook, trying to decide what would be the best way forward. 

You saw him out of the corner of your eye, yet you chose to ignore him. Two could play this game. 

“My ember” he said as he stood next to the bench, the bench that he had made for you. You laid down your pen and took a deep breath. 

“Please, leave me alone” Your voice cracked a little and you knew that he smiled at that. 

“Let me explain,” he said as he sat down. 

You closed the notebook with a loud thumb. “Why should I? You left me, left me alone” It wasn’t on purpose but you sounded so small, so fragile. 

“No, I promise you, I didn’t leave you” 

You looked at him, you saw his apologetic eyes, all while all that he saw was disdain for his actions. 

“You did” 

He shook his head and reached out for your hand. “No, I’ve been planning, I’ve been negotiating, I’ve been talking to my advisors. I’ve even been talking to my subjects” 

Your eyes perked up at that. He nodded. “Yes, they had a lot to say about you, my ember. They hold a love for you, one that I’ve never had, a love that no ruler of this kingdom has ever had. They’re calling you their princess” 

A smile blossomed on your lips then. They had all been kind, so kind and with open hearts and open homes. It had been a pleasure to walk among them. 

“So why did you…” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he slowly kneeled down before you. 

“Because they’re right, a woman like you, one as kind and as beautiful deserve a title, you deserve to rule, to make this kingdom better than it has ever been” 

Your heart swelled. 

“You deserve a crown, but I do not want them to call you princess” he shook his head as he smirked, it was a nervous smile, but it was there. “I want them to call you queen, and I want you to be my queen” 

At that he pulled out a small round box, as he opened it it revealed a stone as dark as the night sky in a silver setting. 

A scream was all you could think to let out. Then you tackled the king to the ground as you repeated: “Yes!” over and over again. 

Jeonghan laughed as he pulled you close to his chest. 

It was a night worthy of remembering, it was a celebration of your engagement and everyone who mattered in your new life was there, and most importantly Jeonghan was right by your side. 

He held your hand with the ring all through the dinner, and every now and then you would catch him, as he stared at you when you admired it. 

He was so soft, so gentle around you, and it was a feature you adored, it was what had made everything so easy. His love made it all so easy. 

“A toast!” he said at one point as he raised himself from the chair where he had been sitting all night. That was the first time that night he let go of your hand, but now his eyes, those dark eyes were fixated on you and you alone. 

It was something you would never get used to, the way he observed you and looked at you with such love and adoration, you didn’t know how you had been this lucky. This lucky that he was the one who found you, that he had been as smitten with you, as you had wanted him to be and that this incredible kingdom of his had chosen to accept you as their queen. 

You smiled. 

“For you, my beautiful bride. My queen. You are the one thing I could’ve never predicted, and you’re the one thing I never knew I needed. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my li-” 

He was interrupted by yells on the other side of the ballroom door. Hansol was up and out of his chairs in a split second. Ready to protect his king, and now ready to protect you as well. 

The doors flew open and in walked the three people you would’ve never expected to crash your engagement dinner. The first one to enter was Hoshi, the last tiger, which was what they had always called him. 

He was the general in The Sun Kingdoms army. He was known for how he made loyal soldiers that were impossible to break, even under intense torture. He was strict, and if one were to believe the books in Wonwoo’s library, his soldiers feared his wrath more than death itself. 

After him followed Seungcheol, the royal guard captain. He was stoic, sharp and all around intimidating. He was the man who handpicked the best of Hoshi’s men, to join in protecting their king. Not a single emotion was to read on his face, it was as if he had cut himself completely off of every single one of them. In this moment he was a weapon and nothing more. 

You knew he was coming, you knew he was the only one in the whole kingdom that would travel with both of these men with his side as companions, yet you hadn’t been prepared to see the man. The king that had first led you into that cave so long ago. 

King Mingyu stepped in and looked first at the man you were soon to call your husband, and then he looked at you. He nonchalantly took his hands and rested them on his belt, the very belt where both daggers and swords hung. Daggers that had helped cut you open. 

You gribbed the sides of your chair and bore your nails into the tree. You wanted to run, you wanted to look away from him, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You wanted him to see how far you had come. Despite the tears in your eyes and the sobs that slowly clawed their way up your throat, you refused to divert your eyes from him. 

There was a promise in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in so long, one that made your whole body shake. 

“Well well well…” the broadshouldered Sun King said as he smirked. The two soldiers were not far from him. They looked to one another with lazy smiles, almost as if it had been nothing to cut their way into the castle. 

And looking at them, and the way nothing seemed out of place, it properly had been as easy for them to cut through Vernon’s men as it were for any other mortal to cut through butter. 

“Looks like you’ve come far from our cave my light” Mingyu said as he looked at you scanning you from top to bottom. 

You tried steadying your breathing but it was near impossible. You had tried your best to forget him, to push him to the back of your mind, but no matter how much you trained, how much you laughed and smiled, it was as if he was always there, in the back of your mind, lingering. 

Your heartbeat picked up as you tightened your grip on your chair, you knew it hurt, but your body couldn’t seem to focus on the pain. He was the only thing you saw. 

Hansol looked back at you for a split second, almost as if he could sense something was going on, as if he could sense your distress. 

Hoshi growled at him, almost to see what the statue of a man would do. To Hansol’s credit he didn’t move a muscle. 

“She does no longer belong to you” Jeonghan spat out, he was mad, and most likely embarrassed. 

Mingyu only smiled a little wider as he raised a brow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that” He took a step closer to the king. “Something tells me that I’m always there in the back of her mind” 

He took another step. 

“Tell me Moon King, does she scream my name every night?” 

He hit a nerve with that comment.

Jeonghan whipped his head towards you, as if Mingyu’s comment reminded him that you were in fact in the room, and there he found you, complete and utter broken. The tears fell from your eyes as your face twisted in what seemed like physical pain. 

“Vernon, take her away” His voice was low but due to the complete and utter silence in the hall it carried to you as well. 

You looked up at the captain as you shook your head, a silent plea to please let you stay. To let you be by your lover's side just a moment longer. 

The hall darkened, and you saw how Mingyu pulled his sword out and flung it around a few times as he lit the blade on fire without even blinking. 

The fire was strong and it warmed up the hall instantly. 

Hansol grabbed on to you then and pulled you towards the nearest door. You kicked and you screamed, nothing left your mouth but the word no. A plea to the kings to please stop whatever they were thinking of doing.  

What if he would end up hurt? What if something happened before you had a chance to tell him just how much you loved him? 

Jeonghan pulled a sword from one of the shadows, and just before the door closed, you saw the two kings jump at one another aiming their swords for lethal blows. 

When you heard the click of the door shutting behind you, you became limp in the captain's arms. He quickly pulled you over his shoulder before taking the stairs two steps at a time and getting you back to the safety of your room. 

He sat you on the bed and tried getting into contact with you, you could see his face in your field of vision. Yet you couldn’t hear his voice. It was as if you were under water, because his mouth moved but you heard nothing. 

Hansol gently placed his hands on your cheeks and forced your eyes to meet his, and as soon as those familiar colors met yours. You broke. 

He was quick to catch you, and it didn’t matter that you had basically slammed your head into the metal plate of his uniform, because you just needed someone to hold you. And he did, he held you close and stroked your hair gently as he pulled you close to him. 

“It’s okay, he’s gonna be okay, he’s the fiercest swordsman to walk this planet, he’s gonna be just fine. Just you wait and see” 

You ended up in his lap as he gently rocked you, just as he had done that day when the two of you had found your way back to one another. He held you as you wept, he held you as a brother who wished he could take away all of your pain. 

A part of you wished that he would just get it over with, a part of you wished that he would cut the king down where he stood. 

It didn’t matter that you got your revenge, it didn’t matter that there would be consequences. As long as he no longer breathed, as long as you could be by your love’s side, as long as you could finally get married.

Not long after you heard the footsteps on the stairs. You curled yourself around the captain as he pulled at his sword, and much like Mingyu had done, he let his silver flame coat its sharp edges. 

The door was pulled open and Jeonghan stepped in. 

You felt Hansol hold his breath beneath you, and he gently let down his sword, before slowly pushing you away from him. Some part of your soul didn’t want to part with him, but the part that needed to know that he was okay, won the battle in the end. 

Jeonghan gently took you from his captain's arms. He looked you over with worried and scanning eyes. He looked okay, he didn’t look hurt. 

“What happened?” You asked, eyes scanning for the smallest of answers. 

“He wanted you returned to him. I refused” 

You felt how your chin started to slightly vibrate, as you let your emotions run freely. The tears kept falling. 

“Shhhh” he cooed. “It’s okay, I’m okay” 

You were holding him tightly, and you almost couldn’t get yourself to ask what had happened to the three intruders. Were they gone, had he taken their lives or were they on the run? 

“Where are they?” Hansol said as he stepped closer to the windows, carefully observing the walls around the castle, scanning them and the woods that you could clearly see from your chambers. 

Something told you he would be having a harsh conversation with his men later that evening. His blades were not bloodied during this fight, but there was no doubt that his king needed someone to be responsible for ruining a night that should’ve been a celebration. 

“I don’t know, they were gone in a flash of light” Jeonghan pulled you a little closer to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry my ember, I promised you that he couldn’t get to you here. I’m so sorry i broke that promise” 

You sobbed a little harder, and he rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

“He was here…” You cried. 

“I know” was all the Mon king said as he stroked your hair. 

“He was right here” 

It almost sounded like screams, the sounds you made as you felt your soul being torn apart once again by the mere sight of him. 

“I want whoever is responsible for this punished” Jeonghan said as he looked to your brother, to his captain. 

Hansol was just about to step out of the room when he said: “Vernon, I want their heads” 

He was cold, he was the king you had always heard stories about when you were a child and he was only a prince. 

A prince that had never accepted mistakes, had now become a king without mercy. 

As the door shut behind you he pulled you away from him, he gently led you to the bed and sat you down on it. 

Jeonghan took a few deep breaths, urging you to follow the rhythm he set, and you did. 

After a few minutes your head seemed clearer, more set on the goal than it had ever been. 

“I will kill him for this, my queen. I will slay him where he stands for how he had made you both cry and scream” 

You shook your head. “No, I want to be the one to put the dagger in the heart of the king who killed my brother” 

Jeonghan smirked before he rested his forehead against your own, gently rubbing his nose against yours. 

“I can't wait to marry you” he whispered. You smiled at that, neither could you, the day better come quickly, because you had business to attend to. 

Jeonghan had insisted on sleeping in the chair in the room that was usually reserved for Minghao, it was a sign of respect he had said. 

His kingdom had other rules on how men and women interacted with one another, when they weren’t married, it was also why he hadn’t as much as kissed you yet. 

And with everything you had been through, with all you had loved and lost, you didn’t mind that the intimacy suddenly came after the wedding. 

So he had laid there, and just as the healer always did, he had dosed off long before you were even close to sleep. 

He meant well, you knew that, he was there for protection, but were you ever safe in that castle you had gotten so used to calling home? 

You stood from the covers and went over to the window, and looked out at the world beyond the walls that surrounded the castle. 

You looked out at the woods, and somewhere between the trees you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of sunlight, calling you to it, begging you to return home. 

Instead of listening to it you just bit your lip and returned to bed, hoping your sleep would be dark and for once without dreams. You couldn’t bear the heartbreak of seeing him twice in one day.

Jeonghan woke you the next morning with breakfast in bed. You didn’t mind that he was the one who did it, but it was strange to suddenly have a different routine. 

You hadn’t noticed how much you had gotten used to your day starting with the healer and the cook. Eating your breakfast together had become such an integrated part of your routine. 

It gave you a sense of normalcy, one that would definitely be gone as soon as you were wed. 

The two of you ate in silence, and for some reason it felt natural. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a sip of his tea. 

A nod was all the reaction he got, as you slowly chewed the remaining food in your mouth. 

He laughed a little at that, which earned him an eye roll. 

“I’m okay, I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I was wondering if you could take me somewhere?” 

Jeonghan moved a little closer to you then, gently took your hand in his own, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. 

“You just say the word and I’’ll have someone prepare our horses” 

A sigh was released from your lungs then, and for a second you wondered if he would in fact grant you this wish.

“I want you to take me back to the woods, I want you to show me where you found me that day” 

Jeonghan looked at you with serious eyes, and just as it looked like he was ready to deny your request, something in those cold eyes of his, softened. 

He stood from the bed and went over to the large wardrobe that stood in the room, he then started to pull out a set of riding leathers. 

When he stopped he went over to you and pulled you into his chest. “When I say I would deny you nothing, I mean it” 

Your heart swelled at that. 

The ride was relatively short, almost as if someone had been pushing you in the right direction of The Night Kings castle that day. 

“My men found you first” Jeonghan said as he swung free of the saddle of his large black stallion. 

“Vernon said that it had looked like you had been running all night” he held out a hand for you to take as you followed him. 

He pulled you tight into him, as if the memory of you being so broken and weak, broke his heart anew. 

“You were strong, I knew that from the first time I saw you. You were a warrior, one who had fought your way to freedom, one who had looked into the eyes of death and had lived to tell the tale” 

You held him a little closer, and the extra contact with your body seemed to loosen the muscles in his brows. Almost as if your touch were a reminder that you were safe with him now. You smiled. 

“I can’t thank you enough for saving me” You said as you stopped in a clearing. 

He slowly rested a hand against your cheek. “I didn’t save you, you saved yourself, my ember. I just lend you a helping hand” 

The way he spoke was beautiful, and you appreciated it more than he would ever know, that he didn’t see you as this broken and frail thing, but as a survivor, a warrior. 

It was a blessing that you could be yourself with him, that you didn’t need to make your sharp edges blunt to be loved by him. 

Jeonghan made a gesture with his head towards a small patch of flowers among the leaves. 

You released yourself from his side, as you made laps around the small white daisies on the forest bed. 

“I sent out one of my soldiers with flower seeds that day, to mark the place that we found you” 

You did a quick turn as you looked at your fiance with disbelief written all over your features. “Jeonghan, why would you even do that?” 

It was a simple question, one you almost knew the answer to, but you wanted him to say it out loud. 

He only shrugged. “I don’t really know, I guess some part of me knew that you were meant to be mine, that our destinies were intertwined” 

The two of your destinies had been intertwined long before the two of you had even met. It made you smile. 

“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me, especially after yesterday” 

It wasn’t on purpose, but your smile disappeared at the thought of him, of the fight between the two kings. 

You sat down on your knees and inspected the little daisies that laid there. You ran your fingers over the ground, touched each petal. A silent thank you for this gift that Jeonghan had once again given you. 

“A sculpture of you is being made as we speak. I want it raised right here, so that all of our subjects can come here and pay their respect to their queen. So that they can hear the story of how you fought, how you escaped and how it led you to be their queen” 

There was no doubt that the man in front of you loved you. You didn’t know exactly why that was, but he did, and maybe it was time for you to give a little something in return. 

“Do we have to wait?” You said as your hands finally stilled. 

“With what, my ember?” Jeonghan said as he looked around the forest, his back turned to you. When you studied his shoulders it almost looked like he was holding his breath. 

“With the wedding? Do we have to wait?” You quickly stood and moved towards him, he however never turned towards you, almost as if he had wanted you to say the words, as if he wanted you, to want him just as much as he craved you. 

You took his hand, your own was cold as metal. 

He searched your eyes, and found nothing but want, need, of being tied to him. 

Instead of denying you, instead of honoring the traditions of those who came before him, he melted, as snow beneath the sun of spring. 

“I would never deny you anything my queen, least of all that” 

He took your hand and kissed it gently. Jeonghan, the king of The Night Kingdom, the perfect gentleman, and your future husband. 

The next two weeks went by in a flash, the preparations to the upcoming wedding had made you more busy than ever. 

Jeonghan had ordered Hansol to stay by your side, it was the only thing, the only thing that kept you sane while all the stress of everything you had to do and learn before the wedding. 

Especially since both Minghao and Woozi were otherwise occupied with preparations of their own. 

You stood in a room filled with mirrors, with seamstresses all around you as they stitched the black wedding dress onto your body. 

Hansol was as always stiff as a statue whenever other people were around, and a part of you hated that your brother couldn’t be there for emotional support. 

As if he could read your mind, he quickly dismissed the seamstresses, and as soon as the room was empty, he pulled off his helmet and looked you over with a smile. 

“You look beautiful, Spark” he said as he took your hand. 

You smiled at him, yet it didn’t really reach your eyes. He gave your hand a little squeeze. 

“They should all be here… Mom, dad, Chan…” You bit your bottom lip. You needed them all here. 

“Something tells me dad would object to this if he had the chance” Vernon said with a wink, and he was right, he would have. It was too grand, there were too many people and none of those who truly mattered were there. Except him, except Hansol. 

“Yeah, at least I have you” You smiled at your older brother and he beamed at the sentiment. 

“I think Jeonghan might make me in charge of your guard” Hansol gently removed a few stray hairs from your face. “And if he choose to do so, then I would be the one to give you away” 

You threw yourself at him, pulled him close, he laughed at that. “I always thought you would wear white at your wedding” 

Now it was your time to laugh. White was the color usually used for weddings in The Sun Kingdom, whereas they used black in the place you currently called home. 

“Who says I won't?" You winked at Hansol, and all he could do was roll his eyes. 

What Hansol had said turned out to be the truth, Jeonghan had in fact put him in charge of your guard and your security. 

According to Jeonghan he was the only man he trusted enough to put his queen's needs before the king’s. He was the only one loyal enough to actually do the job, which meant he was the only one right for it. 

“Are you ready?” Minghao said as he gave you your bouquet of flowers. 

You took a deep breath before you nodded. Hansol gently let the veil fall down over your face. 

“Yes” it was confirmation enough, and before you knew it you were walking down the aisle of the large cathedral. 

Jeonghan was shining as a star, tears in his eyes and a smile brighter than any you had ever seen on his lips before. He was happy, the happiest he had ever been, and so were you. This was it. 

Wonwoo held a speech to all of the noblemen and women that had dragged their fine dresses and uniforms out of their closets, but you didn’t hear a single word, all you saw was the king in front of you. 

The two of you exchanged your vows, and as the scholar tied the black ribbon around your hands, you were officially wed. 

A crown was placed atop your head, two scepters were given to you by Jeonghan, one representing the moon, the other representing the sun, and you knelt before the king as he swore you in as queen of his people and the land. 

Your heart was beating loudly throughout the festivities of the night, it was hammering away in your chest as you danced with your lover, as you laughed with his friends, as you ate your way through the large banquet. 

It never stopped, it was a constant beat in the back of your mind, a clock, a countdown. It was nerves, nerves for what were to happen that night when the two of you were finally alone. 

Jeonghan led you into his chambers as soon as it was acceptable for the two of you to leave the party in the ballroom. 

It was larger than your own room, the bed was bigger, the windows taller. Overall this was a room fit for a king and queen. 

He took your hands, and you were trembling like a leaf. 

“Take a deep breath for me, my queen” 

You chuckled at that, but you did as he said. It managed to calm you down, at least a little. 

“Anyone would be nervous, if you weren’t I might even take offence” he laughed, and so did you. “Buy you my ember, you have been through more heartbreak and pain than most. So I will not force you to share my bed” 

You looked straight at him, surprise and relief no doubt written all over your face. He brought a hand to your cheek and caressed it, as if you were the most delicate thing the world had ever seen. 

“The day you want to give up your heart and soul to me, will be the second happiest day of my life. But it’s not something that I expect of you before you’re ready. I don’t want it before you beg for me to take it” 

His eyes darkened, and you gasped for air. 

“All I want from you tonight, is to hold you, if you’ll let me” 

Your mouth went dry, and you nodded, maybe a little too eageristic, but it seemed to both melt and soften the king. 

Jeonghan gestured towards a room divider in the other end of the room. “At the other side of that you’ll find a nightgown, go change my queen” 

So you did, with shaking hands you loosened the black dress and let it fall to the ground, and with shaking hands you pulled on the silk and lace gown that Jeonghan had specially made for the occasion. 

He was splayed in bed without a shirt. Casual and content. He belonged there, it was clear to see that he belonged in this grand room. For you it would take some getting used to. 

His muscles were defined, and his long hair framed his face so perfectly. Before you knew it, you were pulling back the covers of the bed and slipping beneath it. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Jeonghan laughed as he turned his whole body towards you. 

You pushed his shoulder. “No it wasn’t” 

The two of you laid there, observing one another in this new space, and as you looked into his eyes, everything stilled. 

It was as if looking at him made everything come into focus. 

“There you go” He whispered as the whole bed seemed to still as soon as the nerves seemed to disappear. 

He rested his forehead against yours as he had always done. “This is where I want to be, right here by your side, this is where I want to end every night, right next to you” 

He slowly rubbed his nose against yours, and you leaned into his touch as you closed your eyes, just soaking in his words. 

“And one day, this bed is where I want to end my days, next to you as the goddesses collect my soul” 

You moved a little closer to him at that and laid a small kiss on his cheek. The gesture made him shudder. 

“I think that’s doable, don’t you think?” You could feel the twinkle of sunlight in your eyes peek out, and he smiled wider at the sight. 

The two of you didn’t say anything else, you just laid there and took in the day, took in each other, the warmth of your bodies, the smell of your mixing perfumes, the sound of your breaths. 

As Jeonghan drifted to sleep, all you could do was thank the goddesses, for how they had blessed you. You smiled as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. 

Everything was wet, so incredibly wet. As if it had started raining and someone had forgotten to close a window. 

The whole room was heavy, and the smell of iron forced its way up your nose and down your throat, it almost made you gag. 

You knew the smell well, it was blood. 

You screamed then, a scream that was quickly stopped by the blade ramming into your stomach. There was a furious knock on the door as you screamed out for Hansol, for anyone, yet the stabbing continued, until finally it ceased. 

The door to the room flew open and guards were everywhere to be seen. The captain had you in his arms in an instant, the oath he had sworn to Jeonghan making it so that he could not look back, as he ran towards Minghao's room with you in his arms. 

Blood was dripping with each step he took, leaving a trail behind for anyone to follow. The healer was quick to open his door, he was over you within seconds, humming, letting his magic flow, healing the important vessels within a second. 

Then he left you, left you to go and tend to his king, while his students took care of you. 

Hansol had killed many men in his time. Both as soldier, guard and captain, he knew the body and its secrets, and with the amount of blood that was soaking the mattress of your wedding bed?

No one could come back from a blood loss that severe. 

“Sol…?” Your voice was horse, weak. 

“Shhh…” was all he said as he brushed the sweat soaked hair out of your face. 

A tear rolled down your cheek. 

You couldn’t muster anything to say. 

The captain nodded. “He’s gone” 

Through the halls of the castle, all anyone could hear was the scream of their new queen. 

As the two weeks up to your wedding, the two weeks after were even more of a blur. You were sitting in meetings with the heads of families and noblemen, all discussing which one of them should take the king's place. 

It didn’t matter what you said in protest. Jeonghan might’ve been a man who wanted to hear your opinion, but these men only wanted power. 

They couldn’t care less that you were their queen still, because now that the king had died, they saw you as nothing more than a widow. 

The meeting was the last of the day, everyone had sworn that they wouldn’t leave the room until they had all made an agreement of who was to be king.

They had been going back and forth for hours when Wonwoo finally spoke. 

“There are two ways for us to fix this conflict with The Sun Kingdom, it’s either through war where we hopefully get to avenge our king. It’s a war which we cannot afford, not in gold nor in the losses of men” 

His eyes were not hidden behind the dark colored glasses as usual, no they were revealed, exposed to the world. 

They were completely white, great power had stolen his vision, sunpower, it made your stomach twist in knots. 

“Or it’s through marriage” It was as if he was staring right at you. 

“Since you and Jeonghan had only been wed for a few hours, there’s no heir we can promise King Mingyu, which under normal circumstances leaves us at a disadvantage” 

The man smirked then, it was sinister, almost evil. 

“Luckily for us, we have something that the king want” 

You felt your heart stop in your chest as your face drained of color. 

The men started talking between themselves, no doubt weighing the pros and cons of making such an alliance with the king of the sun and light. 

You knew what their decision would be before they did themselves, such an alliance would mean more gold for each of them, so they would vote in favor of it, and as they all nodded in agreement with the scholar, Wonwoo then looked back to you. 

“What do you say my queen?” 

The tears welled in your eyes. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my people and my kingdom safe. If this is what you all deem to be the best, then I will sacrifice my own happiness, my own life” 

The men all nodded approvingly, all they saw was a woman who knew her place. 

“I will make sure that this kingdom will be ruled with help of the people who know how to govern a country” 

More nods of approval. Wonwoo sat at the end of the table looking as smug as ever. The men next to him were all idiots, they had not known that he had just secured the crown for himself. 

There was no doubt that Mingyu would whisk you away from this palace, and leave the governing of The Night Kingdom to whoever you recommended, and Wonwoo was gonna make sure that, that someone was gonna be him. 

You shook your head. He was as stupid as the rest of them. 

“Good, I will send word to King Mingyu right away, and lay the terms out for him, let’s hope he still crave our queen, otherwise we might have a problem” 

You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer of satisfaction in those dead white eyes of his. 

It had been no more than a month since you had been standing in this cathedral, only a month ago that the man in front of you had been Jeonghan, the moon, and yet he was gone now, and in front of you stood none other than the sun himself. Mingyu. 

There was a fire burning in his eyes, one you knew was reflected in your own. You were not a weak woman, you never had been, and you were determined to show everyone in the room exactly that. 

You were determined to show them all that you could do this, determined to earn their trust and their respect. 

Woonwoo stood there, just as he had two weeks ago, saying the sacred words of the goddesses, those that would bind not only your souls together, but the two kingdoms. 

You heard one of the giant doors open and quickly close again. You looked towards it and saw a silver haired man sneak in. 

It took you a second before you realized who he was, you had become so accustomed to look at the other side of the coin that was his face, you had become so accustomed to look at his twin that it took a few heartbeats before you realized just who you were looking at. Jun. 

Your breath hitched and you quickly found Minghao’s eyes in the crowd. His eyes were filled with both love and adoration for you, but also sadness. Your friend was sad on your behalf. 

You looked back at Jun and smiled. Then your eyes once again found Minghao’s and you smiled even brighter then. 

He shook his head slightly, clearly confused about the sudden change in your demeanor. Your eyes made a direct line from him to the man that had just entered. 

Minghao only furrowed his brows in confusion. 

So instead you made a gesture towards the door which seemed to do the trick, and as your friend turned you felt your heart filled with joy. 

He looked back at you in an instant, as if confirming that his eyes were in fact not deceiving him. Your smile widened even more, though it didn’t seem possible.  

The healer slowly stood from his seat and moved closer to the doors. And there at your second wedding, a pair of twins, brothers who had been apart for far too long, finally reunited in an embrace. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mingyu, and how he leaned his head back and smiled at the ceiling. 

He was hiding his joy from those in the room that didn’t need to see it. Because like you, he too was happy that the brothers had united at last. 

His smile lit up the room, warmed it, and when he once again turned his face towards you, you saw how his face neatly slipped on the smug mask. 

You avoided looking at him for too long, afraid of what reaction it might have, so instead you once again turned your attention to the twins. 

Jun looked at you then and smiled, broadly and brightly, and then he bowed deeply. It was a bow to thank you, for everything that you had done, for reuniting them at last. 

There was a pride gleaming in his eyes. Then he opened the door and slipped out of the room with his brother right behind him. The two of them had a lot of catching up to do. 

The ceremony was over before you knew it, and the feast after was complete and utter torture. 

You had to sit there and look at people have fun, all while you had to sit there like a statue. Unable to leave before your new husband deemed it time to whisk you away from all the observing eyes.  

Hansol grabbed onto your hand beneath the table and squeezed it. You bit your lip. You needed to get out, needed an escape. 

“Let’s go” Mingyu had leaned as close to you as he could, his lips touching your ear in the way Jeonghans had, but this time there was no blush in your cheeks, only fire and light burning beneath your skin. 

He stood from his seat and held out a hand for his new bride, you hesitated a little before you took it, a gesture which only made him smile even brighter. 

Somewhere in the hall you heard Hoshi make a vile noise, one that almost made you roll your eyes. But you composed yourself, and decided you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his shenanigans. 

Mingyu let you lead both of you to your chamber. It had been decided that the new king would not be allowed into the room where the previous one had been killed, especially when Mingyu was the one they suspected had been behind the assasination. 

Therefore the two of you would instead use the one that had been your home for the past year. 

You stepped towards the windows as he gently closed the door behind the two of you. 

“Everything is just so dark and cold here” he looked around the room and his eyes finally settled on your back. 

You could see the flash of light that he had released reflect on the walls and windows around you. You knew what he had done. 

It was a protection spell, one that would let the two of you speak or scream without anyone else hearing it. He had used it so many times before, always when the two of you had been left alone. 

“Look at me” he whispered, it was an order, although it sounded more like a plea. 

You turned around as fast as you could, and then you looked at him. And you finally allowed yourself to take in the king that stood before you. To take in your husband. 

The golden eyes, the strong jaw and light brown hair. The tan skin of his neck and the broad shoulders hiding beneath his cape. 

He looked like light and warmth itself, and you had been cold and hidden away in the dark for so long. 

You felt the tears as a sob clawed its way up your throat. Your knees, however, gave out first, but he had you in his arms before you could hit the ground. 

He pulled you as close to him as humanly possible, and you clung to his white linen shirt as you wept. 

“You did so good, light of my life. You did so, so good” he whispered the words again and again. It was a prayer on his lips, a mantra, and you clung to every word. 

Because he was right, you had done it. 

You had infiltrated the enemy. You had done everything that you had planned to, you had executed everything perfectly. You had managed to seduce the Moon King himself. 

Mingyu had lifted you from the spot on your floor and while you were cradled in his arms he had sat down in the chair. 

He never spoke, he never rushed you, he just sat there, grateful that he could finally hold you again. 

When you were done crying you told him how you had taken Jeonghan's life while he slept. 

The day that Mingyu, Hoshi and Seungcheol had cut their way through the palace, he had sent you a signal from the woods, a signal of where to find a sundagger, the very place where you had collapsed, the place that Jeonghan had made so easy to find with the small daisies. 

You told him how you had raked through the flowers, until your hand had touched the metal, then you had gently pushed the small blade down the back of your trousers, carrying the weapon back into the moon castle. 

You told him of how you had trembled all night, nervous that he would discover the knife you had hidden with a chain around your upper thigh. It wasn’t until you were laying next to Jeonghan in bed and you knew you had succeeded, that your body finally managed to relax. 

You told him of how you had pulled the knife in the dead of night, and first punctured his lung. Making it impossible for him to call for help. 

And as you slowly made holes in the king, as if he were nothing more than a pincushion, you had told him the real story of who you were. 

The story of a girl who grew up with two brothers by her side, one who was kidnapped when she was young, the other when she was an adult. 

One brother that had been molded to the perfect weapon by a foreign and cruel king. A king that took riches from those who needed it the most, a king that stole children from their parents to make them into soulless soldiers. 

The king had never known that the child, the eclipse wielder, had never forgotten his life, had never forgotten his family. No one had known, until you yourself found your brother in the role as his own captain. 

You thanked him for training him, and told him of how you would now use his own captain, to turn his own people against every nobleman and woman in his court. Then you had stabbed him again

Then you told him of the other brother, the one born with the power of the sun and its storms. You told him of how he had been your best friend, of how the two of you had laughed, cried and trained together. 

Then you told him about the cruel king that had once again taken what didn’t belong to him, the cruel king that had taken the one dearest to you. 

You told him that the day that Chan died, it wasn’t because Wonwoo had tortured him to his breaking point, it was because he had sacrificed himself, and transferred the power of the sun, to the only person he knew would be able to avenge him. You. 

Then you had looked into the king's eyes as widened, as he realized he had let his worst enemy into his own castle, how he had been the reason for the prophecy coming true. 

A child of the moon, a child of the sun,Born of the eclipse, crowned by the storm.Keep them not sundered, for they are one Together, their fates will shift and transform.

Two lands shall converge, their division undone,And no mortal hand shall unmake what’s begun.

You had smiled as you finished the prophecy. 

“This is for Hansol and for Chan and every other person you have killed for your own greed” you had said before you had driven the blade into his heart. You leaned over him and in his ear you whispered: “You did promise me that you would never stand in the way of my revenge, and for that I thank you” 

You told Mingyu of how he had tried to reach out for your neck as he slowly bled out before you. 

Of how you had laid back in the blood soaked bed and laughed, right before you had kissed the sundaggers blade and lined it up with the old scars they had made on your stomach, in that cave so long ago, and how you had stabbed yourself again and again.

When your vision had darkened in the edges, you had called out for help. And on the other side of your door, there stood Hansol, ready to assist you, to make sure that the story of your innocence was air tight. 

Mingyu kissed your temple once as he inhaled your scent. 

“I’m so proud of you” 

You nuzzled into his chest then. It felt surreal to be there by his side, after everything that had happened. 

“I dreamt of you every night” You whispered to him. 

It wasn’t a lie, every night you had been there you had met your soulmate in your dreams, it was why you screamed his name every morning

He was being torn from you over and over again. 

You could feel his smile on your skin. “I know, I did too” 

From the moment the two of you had met it had been him, it was as if a string of golden light connected the two of you, as if the goddesses themself had decided that your fates were intertwined. 

He was yours and you were his. 

You looked at him, and with the most tender look you had ever seen him express he rested his forehead against yours. 

He took a deep breath, one that shook, and as he opened his mouth to say the words, you kissed him. 

He kissed you back with a vigor, one that lit your soul on fire and warmed you from within. 

As you pulled away from him, his smile could light up the world. You returned it. 

“I love you” you whispered. 

You had never dared speak the words before now. He had done it often and without a demand of you returning them. He had always known you couldn’t say them, he had always known that if you did, it would be impossible for you to leave him. 

He laughed, it was a silent and beautiful sound. 

“Oh my light” he kissed your lips once. “I love you too” 

The two of you had called upon your closest friends that night, told them to meet you when the moon was at its highest and most of the castle would be asleep, and when the soldiers would be training. 

It was torture walking the halls and not grab on to the arm of the man you called husband, the man you loved. 

The good thing however was that it gave you a pained expression, one that most of the soldiers lining the halls seemed to approve of. 

You were the last one to arrive in the little room that was located in the library. They were all there, all those men that you loved and adored that were still alive. 

Hansol stopped at the door and turned his back to the wall, ready to protect you all as you talked and discussed. 

You reached out for him and you saw his eyes flicker with uncertainty. 

“You belong in this meeting as well,” you said with a smile. 

He took your hand and took a deep breath. “What if they don’t remember me?” he whispered almost silently. 

The tears threatened to fall right then and there. “They will brother” 

With that he stepped into the room behind you. 

Once again Mingyu let his magic protect the room in case someone wanted to listen in on the conversation. 

You looked out at all of them and took a deep breath.

Woozi was as good as hiding behind Minghao who was glued to Jun’s side. Seungcheol and Dokyeom, the little prince, as you had always called him, were engaging in some sort of conversation. 

In one of the corners of the room you saw Hoshi and Seungkwan bicker as usual, the two were masters in annoying one another, masters in driving each other completely nuts, and it seemed that even the pending conversation wasn’t serious enough to stop that routine. 

Mingyu pulled you close to his side and you melted into his touch as you always had, and the gesture was enough for all eyes in the room to look towards you. 

Dokyeom was the first that moved, he ran to you and picked you up and spun you around. 

It earned him a little scream. “Oh how I’ve missed you sister” 

It had always been his nickname for you, and he had emphasized calling you that and that alone since Hansol had been taken. 

“Missed you too my sunshine” The prince beamed at that before he hugged his brother and no doubt congratulated him once again. 

Seungcheol was right behind him and pulled you in for a hug, he pinched your cheek as he let the next one take his place. 

Jun had left his brother and the cook and slowly stepped forward, and you met him halfway through the room and he scooped you up into his arms. He held on to you the longest and as he finally pulled away he smiled and said: “Thank you for reuniting us. This is a day I never thought I would live to see” 

“It was my absolute pleasure” 

As soon as Jun had let go of you Hoshi was over you in a second. The two of you spun around again and again as you laughed together. The tiger was chaotic, but in the best way possible, and you couldn’t wait to train with him again. 

“Yah I’ve dreamt of this day for so long!” He spun you around once, and when he finally pulled you in for a hug he whispered: “Don’t worry I kept it safe for you” 

You laid a hand on the general's cheek in thanks. 

Seungkwan hadn’t moved. Not even a little bit. He was frozen in his chair as he looked towards the ceiling, desperate not to cry. 

“Kwan” you said as you stepped towards him, he only shook his head in response. 

“You can’t hug me, if you do I will just end up crying even more” 

You laughed as you flung your hands around him, causing the sun healer to break down completely. He sobbed into the crook of your neck, and you let him fall apart as you held him. 

“I’m sorry, this is kind of pathetic” he said as he laughed a little. 

“Just get it all out, it’s healthy!” Dokyeom said as he poured himself a glass of red wine from the decanter that stood in the corner of the room. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna need one of those as well,” Woozi said as he stepped forward, quickly grabbing the glass from the prince's hand and drowning it in one go. 

Dokyeom only laughed at that. 

You saw how Seungcheol looked at the other captain that stood in one of the corners of the room, silent and still as a statue. 

“You’re the captain of the guard, are you not?” he asked Hansol and you saw him visibly stiffen as all the eyes of the room looked towards him. 

Hoshi took a step closer to him as he said: “How did you manage to win my queen's trust?” the tiger raised a brow as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“She’s my queen too” Hansol only said, his voice didn’t shake, it was loud and clear, but you knew that beneath the uniform, his heart was most likely beating out of his own chest. 

You sent a silent nod towards your brother, and he took a deep breath before he slowly reached up and removed the helmet, ready to show everyone in the room who he was. 

Hansol’s eyes remained closed for a few heartbeats. “Well that was anticlimactic” Hoshi said with a shrug of his shoulders. 

The captain laughed at that, his mouth merging into that all to known smile, and when he opened his eyes to look at the Sun warrior the whole room seemed to cease breathing. 

One heartbeat. 

Two heartbeats. 

Everyone stood completely still. 

All of the sudden, as if they had all been let loose, your lover, your oldest friends set off and sprinted towards Hansol. 

The man was quickly wrestled to the ground as laughs mixed with cries of relief echoed through the room. 

His hair was ruffled, his cheeks were pinched and kissed all the while all of them did their best to pull him into a giant group hug. It was as if they had all become children again. 

Your heart had never felt more full than it did in this second, it was as if parts of you, parts that you didn’t even know were broken, were healing right in front of you. 

After a few minutes of wrestling and bickering, Mingyu removed himself from the flock. He went straight for you and held your head in his hands. He looked at you with the same love and adoration as he always had. 

He kissed your lips slowly and with so much tenderness it made your knees go weak. “You found him” he said with a smile and that signature sparkle in his eyes. 

You answered with a nod and a little chuckle. 

The men were slowly getting up off the ground. 

“Yahhhh… I did not expect that” Hoshi said as he shook his head. 

“This is absolutely insane!” Dokyeom said in a voice that was nothing short of excited. 

Seungkwan lingered and helped the captain off the floor, and as both men stood, he quickly pulled him in for yet another hug while he whispered something meant only for your brother's ears. 

Minghao slowly raised a hand, his back still up against the wall. Jun just smiled at him. “I for one would love to know what the hell is going on” 

Mingyu pulled out one of the many chairs that stood around the round table of the room, and with a nod he gestured for the healer to sit down. 

“You do deserve an explanation” you looked at Woozi then, “you both do. So allow us to explain what happened before I was found in the woods that day” 

“You also need to know what happened while you were gone,” Seungcheol said with a smile, but the tone was still serious. 

“And I for one would love to know how the three of you managed to get through my guards” Hansol said, as he gestured to the king and his two soldiers. Hoshi only winked at him, which only made your brothers smile wider. 

“We might as well start at the beginning then” you said as everyone had found a seat at the table. Mingyu reached out for your hand and you quickly took it. 

It would be a long night. 

☼ taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @zaycie @lveegsoi @hellaboredd @loudpeachdetective @why4anne @why-did-i-just-do-this @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @fabulousarepo4 @tunafishyfishylike @meowstake @chaseyui @ateez-atiny380 @reiofsuns2001 @dcrlingyou @dy-kyeom @unusuallyshy @littlemoonfairy02 @melovehao @kwonhs96 @juju-227592 @strwberrymuffins @mute-chaos @girliepop-is-in-the-house @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @wonznme @uncndtnllvr @plumpot17 @shegotheruby @huiimoon @user-0703 @my-neurodivergent-world @vwintershire

☼ notes: please as always! Like and reblog if you like my work, and as always I really appreciate any kind of feedback! Thank you so much for being patient, and for reading

[hobipowers]

hope tattoo 👀

[acphengene]

Sunstorm & Eclipse

☼ word count: 20k+

☼ genre: fantasy au

☼ trigger warnings: mental and physical abuse, torture, character death, starving, nightmares, angst.

☼ note: since I'm in the last stages of finishing this story I thought it was about time to tease what has kept me occupied the last two months

☼ taglist: please reach out if you want to be added to the taglist for this, either in the comments, through my ask or in my dm's

An escape from a desert cave underneath the blazing sun. A schackled run through the rough forest floor. A beg of mercy and the embrace of a moon king.

A tale of finding your way back to yourself. A tale of love born from the need for revenge. A tale of family found along the way.

[namgination]

boyfriend vlog

[acphengene]

The Night - Introduction to the universe

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jay x reader

₊ ⁺ genre: fantasy, fluff, angst, found family, brotherly love, death of family, loss, heartbreak, swearing, smut.

₊ ⁺ Introduction ₊ ⁺ Chapter one ₊ ⁺

On a continent in another universe you would find 13 kingdoms. These kingdoms are often parted into four different categories.

The seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter.

The times of day: Dawn, Day, Dusk and Night.

The elements: Wind, Water, Earth and Fire

and lastly; the Afterlife.

Each kingdom has specific magical abilities tied to the land itself. These abilities will always manifest in the royal families and give the kings and queens and their heirs a little extra power to help them rule their lands.

Every member of the royal families will have some sort of manifesting color that also tie them to where they belong. For some it might be red hair, for others it will be skin that glisten like pearls, or wings wider than said person were tall. For some it was the color of their eyes. These ties to the land is impossible to hide, yet one heir has managed to do exactly that.

To the lands specific creatures are tied, the most regular being the fae, since those are spread all over the land. This was beings like the panther shifters of The Night Kingsom, the sirens of The Water kingdom, the unicorns of Dawn and most importantly the souls of The afterlife.

Unlike all other kingdoms The Afterlife were one only the royal family had access to while alive, the remaining of people in all of the lands would only see what was waiting for them beyond that grey mist, when they had left the world to begin on a new journey.

You ran and you ran, so desperate to get through, to get to her. It didn’t matter if it would cost you your own life. It didn’t matter if it meant leaving this world before you were meant to. You just had to get to her.

But somewhere out there you heard someone call out for you, and as you passed out you could’ve sworn your heard a voice in the back of your mind, a voice begging you to hold on. To stay. To chose life. To chose him.

What a wierd dream one that kept returning.

₊ ⁺ note: my loves my loves. did you really think you could get rid of me for more than a few days? ha jokes on you! this is the first introduction to a whole new universe, and it’s something I’ve been working on for months. I hope you all are as excited as I am for this.

₊ ⁺ as always let me know if you wanna be apart of this taglist and please please don’t hesitate to reach out, you have no idea how much it means to me.

taglist: @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @flawlessapollo6 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @azzy02 @zaycie

[namgination]

a visual next to a visual next to a visual

[acopenhagenarmy]

MY SHAYLAAAAA 🥹

[acphengene]

Lilac longing

₊ ⁺ pairing: Sunoo x reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au and over all cuteness overload

₊ ⁺ wordcount: 3.5k (idk what happened)

₊ ⁺ note: i was so close to make this a angst full mess - also be prepared for a lot of brotherly love and support 🤍

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺

Sunoo felt the world more fiercely than most, that had been the case his entire life. Even when he was a child.

He loved to paint, loved color and he loved to express himself through his own style and how he chose to decorate his room, through dance and through song.

When his thirteenth birthday came he was nothing short of excited. He woke up as early as possible and when he opened his eyes, everything was a light purple hue.

It almost seemed like he was looking through colored glasses, he had smiled and quickly woken up his sister that had tried to put on a brave face as he rambled about the beauty of the purple colors.

She had helped him make marks in his clothes so he always knew what color they were. He had been all smiles all day, but when the sun had come down, so had his smile.

Sunoo wasn’t stupid, he knew that emotion-marks were some of the hardest to have, not as bad as touch-marks but finding you from your feelings alone would be difficult.

He then saw his world go from a happy yellow to a worried grey, and he knew that you could see him and his emotions as well. That his anxiety worried you and it warmed his heart.

It had to have some sort of effect, cause the grey quickly transformed into a light blue: content

Sunoo became more positive and it was all thanks to you. He had always had a happy outlook on life, but because you were able to sense him, he had turned himself into a glass half full kind of guy.

He did his best to be upbeat and just over all confident, and even though he was faking it in the beginning, it ended up actually rubbing off on him.

The guys on I-land were somewhat jealous of his carefree spirit, and when they had debuted, he had told them why he was the way that he was. They had all been so supportive and kind, and to them it made sense, cause they would’ve done the exact same had they been in his position.

You too were very similar to your soulmate, and had decided that you too wanted to be the happiest version of yourself. Both now but also later in life for when the two of you would be united.

All your life you had loved art, and now that you saw the world in hues you wanted to express that. Show it off with pride to the world

The nature of your paintings was typically inspired by the sky and its different colors. It was one of the things you could still enjoy in all its original glory. A sunset or sundown had a ray of colors that could change in an instant. Just like you and your soulmate's emotions did throughout a day.

It inspired you, and inspiration and the outcomes of it had to be shared. You had been active on TikTok since before the pandemic, you adored the platform and had managed to build yourself a following throughout the years.

In the beginning you had used it for your art and your art alone, but when someone had asked why all your paintings were monochrome. You had answered with a video explaining your mark, and the spark in your eyes when you spoke of him had made you go viral

“Dude have you seen this?” Jake said as he threw his phone to Sunoo.

They were currently in hair and makeup for a photoshoot. He caught the phone and on the screen and there you were.

He couldn’t help but smile, you looked radiant, like the impersonation of a sunray.

“I do see color, it’s just all in one hue, like looking at the world through rose colored glasses” he saw how a gigantic smile broke out on your lips and you lighted up.

He felt a tug on his heartstrings and for the first time in his life he felt longing, longing for his soulmate. He couldn’t help but hope that his other half would be as bright and beautiful like you were.

“They’re excited, everything just went from a slight nervous green to a yellow so bright it’s almost blinding. So I’m guessing we’re gonna have to change canvases now” you said as you switched them out.

“She’s cute” Sunghoon said as he looked over his shoulder, and he hummed in agreement.

Sunoo pulled out his own phone and quickly found your public social medias and followed them all with his private accounts.

He ended up watching some of your videos throughout the day. There was something incredibly comforting about seeing someone with the same mark as him, channel that into something so beautiful as your art.

Personally he did it in song or in dance, but he could nothing but admire anyone who could turn something most would see as a hindering into something so beautiful.

In the next few weeks he had to admit he had become a little obsessed. He typically got the girls to help him translate your lives whenever you logged on. They were all fans as well, some for your art others just for your over all personality so they at least didn’t seem to mind it.

“It’s purple again. I don’t know you guys, either he has the biggest sweet tooth ever, and constantly craves and longs for chocolate… or else I would say he’s right here with us” you had laughed at your own statement and had quickly disregarded it.

But there was something there - because he had felt that longing after his own person right as you had smiled so brightly.

In another live he watched, someone commented on something in the background, and he had to admit he had never really noticed anything but you. It made him feel a bit of shame, mostly because he never thought you’d actually be his, but also because the pull he felt towards you might make his soulmate jealous down the line.

“Oh! Those are my albums” you said before getting up from your chair where you usually painted.

And in your hands you had copies of their albums. So he wasn’t the only one who was a fan of the other.

The chat had quickly exploded with other engenes, wanting to know your thought on the sudden pop up of the guys and their other halves.

“I’m honestly so so happy for them, we all deserve to find our person, and as long as they bring them joy… well it’s the most important thing”

His vision turned a mix of dark blue and green then and there. Sadness and envy. But that was just a coincidence, right?

You sighed and shaked your head; “anyways, I’ve been a pretty big fan of Enhypen - practically since I-land”

His hands hovered over the keyboard on his phone as he tried to get the courage to ask that one little question. But before he knew it, he saw the familiar @ of none other than Jungwon soulmate, ask the question on his mind.

“Who’s your bias?” She sent a wink his way and he returned it with a shy smile. Sunoo had come to love the women almost as much as he loved his brothers.

“Oh my bias is Suno! There’s a brightness about him that remind me so much of myself” He felt the heat rush to his cheeks as the girls all made little ‘uuuuuuuhs’ around the room.

“Stop it” he said quietly. He looked up from his phone and saw the make up artist roll her eyes. “I’m guessing we’ll just have to do a lot of blush today - you’re lucky it’s a trend”

He smiled apologetically, and heard you laugh in the background.

“I honestly have no idea” he heard you say and he tried finding out what question was asked. Right as you continued: “I think he could have something similar to me, or maybe a pain mark. I don’t think he has a tattoo or anything physical on his body, like I know he doesn’t show it off that much, but he also never hides anything or seek comfort in it the same way Jake did” You shrugged.

You were good at analyzing. Hell if you asked him you were good at everything and that made it so hard not to admire you.

“Do you ever think it might actually be her?” Niki asked as the two played a game in his room.

Sunoo sighed. “I don’t know, like sometimes I hope so, but other times I feel so guilty for doing that”

Niki smiled. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it, whenever I see someone I find attractive I always look down on my pinky, because what if the string actually connected us”

The youngest shrugged. “It’s okay to be hopeful, and just imagine if it’s actually is her, then you’ve known her for a while, not as long as Jay and G but still, it’s more than most of us”

He supposed that was right. It would also be a funny story to tell, how the purples you always had to paint when you were live was because he was watching along.

“I still think it’s unfair I won’t just know, you know? Like with how G just knew when she saw Jay on I-land?” Sunoo said with a small pout.

“Why is that anyways? Never got around to ask you about that” Niki said as he leaned to the left to avoid one of the many obstacles of the game.

“She thinks it’s because she’d kind of already ‘met’ Jay, so he didn’t need to physically be there, she just needed to be reminded of his name and how he looked for the floodgates to open”

Niki laughed. “Yeah, that’s the worst thing about these marks, they don’t follow the same rules. If they did that would be so much easier”

“Do you ever think Sunghoon might just have a touch-mark?” Sunoo asked. He was nosy, he knew that, Sunghoon himself didn’t even intertain the idea.

“I honestly don’t know - and I don’t wanna speculate too much about it. He seems happy either way” Niki said, but Sunoo saw the lack of genuine happiness on his face.

He pushed him slightly with his shoulder. “When did you become so wise?” he chuckled.

“You can thank Jay for that,” Niki said.

Sunoo sat on his bed with his phone in hand as he just stared at it. His thumb was hovering over the send button on the screen. He had debated whether or not this was actually a good idea.

But he just couldn’t help himself. So he pressed it.

A few hours later you were live once again, and you were sitting there staring at the screen. He hoped this would confirm his theory, because if he weren’t right then this was hell of a coincidence.

Two hours after he had sent off his message his vision became such a bright yellow it almost looked white - it was blinding.

He had right then and there decided that that meant you were his. There was no way in hell you weren’t.

The little live notification finally ticked in on his phone, and he had never pressed a link as quickly.

“The most insane thing just happened” You said before you buried your face in your hands. He smiled, well knowing that he was the cause of that.

Your hand hovered over your mouth as he saw the tears well up in your eyes, and he once again fell such longing.

Just tell them - he wrote as a comment from his private account.

He saw that little twitch of a smile on your lips and then you took a large breath.

“Kim Sunoo, my fucking bias, reached out a few hours ago to request a custom painting” you said and you stood up and jumped onto your bed as you screamed into the pillows.

He laughed, glad that he was able to actually see your reaction, even though he was convinced your reaction when you found out had been completely different.

“He wants a sky with every color that I’ve ever seen from my soulmate, every emotion he have ever had - it’s gonna be such an insanely huge piece, and I hope you’ll all follow along when I make it”

You bit your lip: “he’s proud of me” you whispered and the chat went wild.

But you were right, pride was the overwhelming feeling he currently had in his chest.

He saw how you shook your head and once again rested your hands on your lips as you stared into the camera with wondering eyes, as if the puzzle piece finally were starting to reveal the bigger picture.

Don’t spoil it yet - let’s test it out first. Was all he wrote, and he heard the small scream you made, before you turned off the live.

After the live he went straight for Jake’s room, he needed someone to talk to about this feeling inside his chest.

“Come in” he heard from behind the door as he knocked.

“Hey can I pick you brain for a second?” He asked as he sat down on the bed.

“Sure” Jake said before he logged of his game and gave the younger his undevided attention.

“I think I found my soulmate”

Jake froze in whatever movement he was just about to make and stared at him with big eyes.

“What?! How?!” He almost yelled.

“Please be quiet, I’m not completely positive yet”

“You better start talking before I call all of them in here” Jake said with a sinister smirk, Sunoo laughed.

“Do you remember Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she’s the painter right?” Jake asked and Sunoo nodded as he started fidgeting with his ring.

“I’ve noticed whenever she’s live and I’m watching her paint, that the colors she sees are mirrors of my own emotions. When i’m stressed she’s painting orange, when I’m happy she’s painting yellow, and when I …” he sighed. “When I long for my soulmate she’s painting purple”

Sunoo ran his hand through his hair a few times. Trying his best to steady that beating heart of his. He had never shared any of this before. It felt like peeling back a layer and exposing a part of himself he had never shown to anyone.

“So I asked her for a custom piece” Sunoo said.

Jake looked like he was about to scold him, but he raised his hand to finish his confession.

“And I felt this pull” he said and made a tugging motion with his hand, right where his heart were.

The previously worried expression of Jake changed, and a genuine happy smile broke out on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m with you dude. She’s def yours” Jake bit his lip, and it made Sunoo wanna roll his eyes but he reeled it in.

“Are you sure? I mean with Jay and Won…” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before Jake interrupted him.

“It’s different for them, their mark makes it somewhat possible for them to communicate. Jay more than Won, but still the whole chocolate debacle pretty much proved it’s possible” Jake leaned back in the chair.

“For us it’s different” he gestured between them. “Our mark is something we can’t control, so our pull to them is different, and the tug on the heartstrings - yeah that’s one of them… I was more in a trance as soon as I heard her voice, but the tug was definitely there. I even think Won felt something similar if I’m not wrong”

Sunoo smiled a smile wider than Jake had ever seen.

“Thank you Jake” he said and the Aussie saw how the tear welled up in Sunoo’s eyes. He pulled him to his feet and into a hug.

“No problem”

He was nervous. And kept shifting his weight from one leg to another.

You had reached out after the painting was finally done, And he had somehow convinced you to come to Seoul to deliver it personally.

Okay, it hadn’t taken that much convincing, but still it was a long trip to take with a canvas as big as the one you had been using.

So now he stood there in a practice room in the Hybe building, cameras all around to possibly document his meeting with what he was 98% sure was his soulmate.

The cameras had been your idea, you wanted to make the whole experience into a little “come with me to give my bias a painting”-vlog.

He took a deep breath, and then he heard it, the somewhat muffled. “Oh shit, please please be careful. I’ll lose it if it breaks so close to the finish line”

His heart sped up by the sound of the voice.

And then you entered and his heart stopped. You were painted in the green and turquoise colors of anxiety and nervousness. But god you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Even more beautiful as you stood here before him.

You smiled a large smile, but your eyes never left the floor, as if you refused to meet his own. The anxiety had quickly been replaced with longing, so why wouldn’t you just look at him?

He bowed as he said his hello, and thanks for meeting him. It was awkward and clumsy, but still it was somehow fitting.

“Do you wanna see it?” You had asked after returning the pleasantries.

He stepped closer to you, as the two of you had turned your bodies towards the canvas. “Yeah, but can you look at me first?” He said with a small smile, desperate.

All he heard was a whimper and his whole body reacted before he could form a single thought. His hand was caressing your cheek and his other arm was around you waist. Sunoo knew he should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t care less.

“Are you okay?” He said silently, desperately.

You nodded, and as you stilled his thumb slowly caressed your cheek. Still, you didn’t lift your eyes to mee his.

“Please look at me” he said, and the yearning in his voice were clear for everyone to hear. But he didn’t care that he was in a room full of people, all he cared about was you.

“I can’t” You finally mustered as a tear slipped from you eye, he brushed it away quickly.

“You can” He said with what he hoped was a reassuring and not mocking chuckle.

A sigh escaped you and he could feel you shake beneath him. “I’m scared…” You finally got the courage to muster.

Instead of pressuring you, he let you be, let you express yourself in your own tempo.

“I’m scared that I’m wrong”

He smiled. “That we’re wrong. And if we are we’ll take it from there” he pulled you a little closer. “But I can tell you that if we’re right, the all you’re feeling right now is slight embarrassment, longing and love”

Your eyes shot open and you were met with the widest smile from him. His hand snaked from your cheek to the back of your neck and he squeezed it teasingly.

“There you are” He said.

And the the world exploded into color.

The two of you gasped as the pink-ish hues were quickly replaced by the actual colors of the world. He laughed as he rested his forehead on yours.

“I knew it” he said, and right after you flung your arms around his neck as you pulled him close to you.

He lifted you from the ground and spun you around, earning him a laugh.

“You’re mine?” You asked with surprise in your voice.

“It seems so” he pulled you into yet another hug and as you seperated it was your turn to reach out for him.

You caressed his cheek, and saw how his eyes almost disappeared when he smiled. “I can’t believe it” the words were so small he almost didn’t pick up on it.

He turned you towards the canvas as a his arm draped around your hips. “Now let’s see what you made me” he kissed the top of your head and your entire body shuddered at the intimate gesture.

You nodded to the two men who had been holding it, and the loosened the bow that held the protective cloth over it.

And as it slipped away Sunoo felt his mouth open slightly in chock. It was a beautiful explosion of colors, colors he could now see at the same time.

He once again pulled you closer to him. “It’s beautiful” and you heard how his voice almost betrayed him and gave after for the sobs that threatened to spill out.

“Just like you” you said.

In this moment neither of you had felt more loved or more seen, and that lilac longing were now substituted for pink and red love.

Taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh

[amazzwon]

MY GO-TO SEVENTEEN FICS

────⟢.ᐟ Choi Seungcheol (Scoups)

╰ Rough

smut, 2k

╰ warm hearts

fluff, 0.5k

╰ his arms

smut, 0.4k

╰ sapiosexual

smut

╰ Good Luck, Fermata Tower

firewatch au, smut, angst, fluff, 13.9k

╰ always only you

14.2k, smut, childhood friends to lovers

╰ Shiver Me Timbers!

pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader, fantasy au, smut, 3.0k

╰ Dancing Queen

smut, fluff, slight angst, disco club owner!choi seungcheol, performer!reader

╰ passenger princess(es)

fluff, established relationship, 0.8k

────⟢.ᐟ Yoon Jeonghan

╰ First Makeout Session

suggestive, minors do not interact

╰ my heart is beating for two

fluff, daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan, 1k

╰ Blueberries

smut, yoga instructor!Jeonghan, 2k

╰ Hate is a strong word

smut, angst, fluff, e2l, coworker au, 15k

╰ How many chances are too many chances?

angst, fluff, fwb, f2l, 14k

╰ Titty-Shirt!

pervert!rollercoaster operator!jeonghan x bigtiddie!fem!reader, theme park au, coworkers to lovers, e2l, smut, fluff, 13.2k

╰ every summertime

16.1k, 70s au, playing hard to get, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

╰ daisies

angst, some fluff, some spice, 10k

╰ City lights Series

smut, rocksinger!joshua, neighbours with benefits, angst, fluff, 75.4k

╰ NBA player

smut, 0.8k

╰ cranberry concoctions

bartender!joshua, smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au, 4.6k

╰ leaning on the everlasting arms

childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader, angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au, 10.3k

╰ Curse The Stars

Salesman!Joshua x Starlet Afab!Reader, Smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, fwb to lovers, 1970s Hollywood au, pwp, 8.4k

────⟢.ᐟ Moon Junhui (Jun)

╰ Christmas with his family

fluff, comfort, (slight) angst, 0.5k

╰ Do Re Mi

smut, fluff, 4k, wife!reader, husband!jun

────⟢.ᐟ Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)

╰ charity f*ck

smut, virgin!hoshi x experienced!reader, fluff, 12.2k

╰ Leather

smut, 1.5k

╰ driving lessons for dummies

fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au, stoner!hoshi, 16k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Jihoon (Woozi)

╰ Somewhere In The Middle

9.7k, romance, smut, best friends, fwb to lovers, hurt, comfort

────⟢.ᐟ Jeon Wonwoo

╰ [12:01 AM]

fluff, 0.2k

╰ First Snow

fluff, angst, smut, ceo!wonwoo, single mom!reader, 33k

╰ no such thing as too perfect

office au, established relationship, fluff, 2k

╰ wonwoo falling in love for the first time

fluff, 0.8k

╰ April Shower

12.0k, romance, meet cute, smut, love at first sight

╰ Mine, all mine

4k, boyfriend’s dad au, smut

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Seokmin (DK)

╰ Backstage series

romance, smut, theatre performer!seokmin, fake dating with benefits, 43.6k

╰ Teach Me

smut, humor, college au, 2.3k

╰ I ❤️ DILFS / GOOD GIRL

college au, brother's best friend au, smut, crack, angst, 15.9k

╰ Patterns

smut, eventual fluff, angst, 10k

────⟢.ᐟ Xu Minghao (The8)

╰ (Not Titled)

fluff, humour

╰ i should’ve never let you go

exes!au, angst, comfort, 2.5k

╰ Flashing lights

model!minghao x f!assistant!reader x actor!mingyu, smut, 30k

╰ the letter

slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l, 26k

────⟢.ᐟ Kim Mingyu

╰ titty obsessed! mingyu

smut

╰ i’ll marry you with paper rings

smut, fluff, angst, 28.3k

╰ kisses to his moles

fluff, 0.8k

╰ Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)

fluff, suggestive, 1k

╰ [10:23 PM]

fluff, 170

────⟢.ᐟ Boo Seungkwan

╰ honey

wedding planner!reader, fluff, smut mdni, theatre performer! seungkwan, childhood crush to lovers, 10.2k.

────⟢.ᐟ Chwe Hansol (Vernon)

╰ Friends with Benefits

fwb setting, suggestive

╰ DO YOU DREAM OF ME?

soulmate au. slight college au , f2l, fluff, some angst. pining, 9.6k

╰ [16:23 PM]

fluff, childhood friends to ?, 0.3k

╰ Birch Trees & Fear Street

smut, fluff, 1.7k

╰ sweet kiss

fluff, strangers ish to lovers

╰ BEAUTIFUL

fluff, strangers to lovers

╰ Music festival

drabble, fluff

╰ operation: hot girl summer

smut, fluff, humor, summer romance au, best friends to lovers, 4k

────⟢.ᐟ Lee Chan (Dino)

╰ As It Was

Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Romance, Angst, Smut, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, 9.1k

╰ Goodbye, Fourth of July

college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut

╰ Love Guard

Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader, 9.2k, Fluff, E2L (One sided)

╰ distraction, a fatal attraction

strangers to lovers, college au, fluff, 7k

╰ In Case You Didn’t Know

Fluff, romance, smut, a little angst, Brother’s best friend au, roommates au, 90s au, 28.8k

[ariellaa-xoxo]

~HANSOL VERNON CHWE fic recommendations~

part 1

[personal fav.= ✨]

divorce child by @lovelyhan (✨)

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s g

work husband by @wondernus (✨)

wondernus!

- ̗̀ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ˎˊ- ✏︎ pairing: teacher!vernon x teacher!yn (gn) ✏︎ synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teach

The Cat-Parent Trap by @bluehoodiewoozi

The Cat-Parent Trap

Alternatively: Rocket, Mango, and the Idiots in Love Vernon Chwe x Reader (gender not specified i think? i hope?) Genre: fluff (figurative

the soulmate service by @dkfile

the soulmate service

❛ pretty at every hour of the day but especially prettier under the glow of the sunset. ❜ word count | 31.0k (31,023) genre | fluff, angst,

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? by @miraclewoozi

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull

LOST IN STEREO by @hannieehaee

LOST IN STEREO

18+ / mdi summary: after kicking you out of your own band to seek success with the band on his own, vernon finds his plans falling through,

favorite coworker by @sescoups (✨)

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry) summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that

today of all days by @the-boy-meets-evil

today of all days | vernon

(the lull of the new year never really comes for you, which is fine. it's better to be busy. this year, you're a little too busy planning so

pretty lies by @lonelywhalien22

pretty lies [masterlist, completed!]

pairing: vernon x reader rating/genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, suggestive, smut (fem bodied reader), band au summary:

love between the lines by @etherealyoungk

love between the lines | chwe vernon

SUMMARY: despite the initial nerves of your new gig as an english literature TA, you’re ready to tackle the new job. that’s where you meet v

[wonupatootie]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩 Part III

쉬는 날인데 넌 뭐해 생각 있음 나와 놀래~

Main Recs Masterlist

➣Part I // Part II // Part III

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Way Back” by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || rapper x actor, angst, fluff, some humour || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

Kwon Soonyoung

“Let Me Hear You Say” by @cherrycheolliesc

Fem!reader || YouTuber au, friends to enemies to lovers, comedy, angst, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･after not seeing each other for years, Yn is ecstatic when she finds out all of her friends will finally be in the same place at one time. but unfortunately an unwanted situation turns a 12 year friendship into hateful relationship between yn and soonyoung. as things grow sour between them, their group gets tired of it and tries to fix things.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“The Roomie” by @zo-byeol

Fem!reader || roommates au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

Jeon Wonwoo

“To My Youth” by @viastro

Fem!reader || love alarm inspired au, slice of life, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Back To You” by @seventeensmaus

Fem!reader || brother's best friend, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･y/n and mingyu are twins. they are pretty much inseparable along with their childhood friend seungcheol. the three live together in an apartment. y/n has never met mingyu’s friends. that is until one day she finally does and sees someone from her past.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Clueless” by @hanniedream

Coworker au, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Wonwoo and you are were both oblivious idiots.

Lee Seokmin

“Sunshine and Sunflowers” by @shuastruck

Fem!reader || college au, sort of childhood friends to lovers, fluff, humour, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“We Have Chemistry” by @seungcy

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a biology major was difficult enough along with juggling an internship at a hospital. So how about adding some cute guys to your internship to spice it up a bit? Can you balance it out?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“What Is Love?” by @cupidhaos

High school au, cupid au, past life au, fantasy, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seokmin never expected to fall in love with a human - especially one that was supposed to be with somebody else

Chwe Hansol

“Two Minus One” by @twogyuu

Fem!reader || uni/recent college grads au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･What’s a better way to find love in the modern day than through dating apps? Eight months after his breakup with his long-time girlfriend, Vernon is finally ready for the dating scene once more - or so he thought. Finding the new game of love more challenging than he remembered, he reaches out to you, Chan’s best friend and legendary wing woman, for help.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Lie Again” by @escapewriter

Fem!reader || idol au, soulmate au, fluff, humour, slight angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･a world in which various types of the soulmate system apply, you just so happen to have one that is completely stupid; being able to hear what your soulmate thinks of. however, when your soulmate hums a certain tune, you cant seem to get it out of your head.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“花樣年華 : HYYH : Golden Years” by @sw1mmingfoolz

Fem!reader || college au, eventual roommates, angst, fluff, slowburn || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when vernon and y/n realise their partners are cheating with each other, they strike up an unlikely friendship trying to figure out how it all began.

Unspecified Endgame

“Feverish Lips” by @sunlightwoo

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･you’d think that because it’s the first semester of the year, it’d be like the beginning of a roller coaster when its slowly becoming climatic and stressful. however, once you’re at the top of the point you have two choices: scream your lungs or quickly hang onto your life support. sadly in your case, you can either suck it up and get through it, or get involved in its loops in tangles with trouble that is bound to be met within every corner that you turn to.

⤷“Louder Than Bombs” (Part 2 of feverish lips)

College au, mafia au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the past semester of your senior year was hectic after the winter ball, its events making it harder for you to get back into your old routine. a rollercoaster that you finally managed to get off of for a blink of an eye, when suddenly you’re strapped on once more. you think to yourself that maybe you’ll make it to graduation in May; maybe alive. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Here Comes The Sun” by @seokgyuu

Fem!reader || college au, slice of life, angst, comedy, fluff || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what's supposed to be just another year of fun and games at one of south korea's top universities turns into a rollercoaster of emotions for you. stuck between best friends and former crushes, you try to find love, friends and most importantly yourself.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“A Poem A Day” by @wooahaeproductions

Gn!reader || modern day cyrano!, fluff, romance, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･When Mingyu literally falls head over heels for someone, he has no idea what to do. What happens when he gets help (and a little meddling) from his friends? it definitely won’t be boring, that’s for sure.

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[hannieehaee]

TRAINING SEASON

18+ / mdi

summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.

content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: not really sure why i keep writing vernon like a loser with no game lol im sure in real life he's got a ton of game lets just pretend he doesnt<3

masterlist

"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."

"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"

"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."

Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.

Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.

One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.

"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.

God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?

"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.

"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?

"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"

"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.

"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."

Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.

God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.

"We're pretty well liked, actually."

A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.

Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.

All the more reason to not join them.

All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.

Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.

Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.

Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.

Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.

And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.

~

Vernon felt out of place.

All his friends had arrived in extremely casual fashion, immediately comfortable in the familiar environment and dispersing themselves in their respective smaller groups.

Meanwhile, even after half an hour of being there, Vernon felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

The agreement they'd settled on was that Vernon would try out the gym. If he didn't like it, — more like, if he truly despised it, in Seungcheol's words — they all agreed to leave him alone (other than Jeonghan, who insisted he'd move into his closet and haunt him until he came back).

So, really all Vernon had to do was hang out for an hour or two and then let his friends down easy.

It should've been easy enough considering how out of place he felt surrounded by other unfamiliar gym bros in their natural habitat.

"Dude, at least try not to look like you have no idea what a gym is."

His thoughts were interrupted by Mingyu who suddenly materialized next to him.

"Huh?"

"You've been standing here staring into the distance for five minutes. Here, just follow me. I just finished my cardio You can do arms with me and Seok today."

The statement felt like a threat. Looking at Mingyu, at his muscles, was enough to tire Vernon out. Was he supposed to keep up with that?

Still, Vernon shrugged to himself and followed after Mingyu. Something which he regretted soon after realizing it'd take an entire flight of stairs to get to what he presumed to be the area of the gym where they usually did arms. There, he found Seokmin and Chan, seemingly already in the middle of some set of some workout while Jeonghan sat on a bench press with a coffee in hand.

"You're actually gonna work out? I thought you'd just go to the spa room," commented Jeonghan upon spotting him approaching.

"There's a spa here? Sick."

"And you can use it after a few sets with me. Follow me, let's go figure out how much you can lift," once again, Vernon began to trail after Mingyu towards the stack of dumbbells on a mirrored wall nearby.

"Oh, Y/N was looking for you earlier, by the way," Seokmin stopped Mingyu before he could walk away.

"Y/N? What for?"

"Your bet, you idiot. She said she can bench press 80 pounds now. You owe her $50," interjected Chan, setting down the two dumbbells he'd been holding.

"Nah, no way," Mingyu crossed his arms, "Where's she at?"

"Are we going to get the weights or-"

"Hold on, 'Sol," Gyu interrupted him, "I have something to settle."

"She just went to fill up her water. She should be back soon," added Seokmin.

"Who's Y/N?", Vernon asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", snickered Jeonghan.

"What does that even me-"

"Chan, just hand me those weights. Vernon should be able to lift those," Mingyu reached over to Chan, grabbing the dumbbells he'd been using with an ease that made it seem like they were weightless.

But this theory proved to be wrong the moment Mingyu attempted to hand them over to an unsuspecting Vernon. Embarrassingly enough, the most predictable thing happened.

But what was most embarrassing was the timing. Suddenly the main character of the conversation showed up, just as Vernon's hands failed to hold onto the heavy weights, dropping them at his feet and barely missing a hospital visit by a few inches. His hands had stupidly attempted to catch them mid flight, but it only resulted in him almost falling over, body now bent down as he caught himself before falling.

That's when he saw an unfamiliar pair of converse standing in front of him.

"Hey- oh, shit!" were the first words he heard from you just as he created the biggest clanking sound resonating through the entire floor.

Looking up with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment on his face, he found you standing right in front of him. Like his own, your expression showed surprise, though he also found amusement in it. In any other situation, he may have laughed along with you (and the rest of his friends who he heard cackling from behind him), but this instance was different.

Because Vernon hadn't expected for a girl his friends had merely mentioned in passing to look like you. Makeup-less and in some worn band shirt with some tiny spandex underneath, you had Vernon's mouth catching flies.

Vernon didn't have a type. Was never one to care for appearances too much. But he suddenly found himself gulping at the sight in front of him. Your eyes stated down at him with some sort of wonder, and he felt a sickly feeling in him that told him he wanted them on him at all times from then on — even if it was due to something embarrassing he'd done.

An incredibly out of character thought for Vernon to have, but here he was.

Instead of picking up the dumbbells he'd stupidly dropped and introducing himself as he usually would've done, his brain malfunctioned along with his body. Losing balance as he straightened himself up, he stammered out what he believed to be a greeting (though he wasn't too sure; he was too distracted by you) while Mingyu offered him support to properly stand.

"Hi?", you responded, "Sorry, was that my fault?", you turned to the other members with slight concern.

A soft slapping sound resounded as Mingyu patted Vernon on the back, chuckling over at your concerned expression.

"Nah, you're fine. Vernon's hand-eye coordination just isn't that good."

"Dude, you handed me like a hundred pounds with no warning!", Vernon recoiled from his touch, attempting to save some of his dignity.

"That was just forty on each dumbbell actually," corrected Chan.

Vernon groaned internally.

Thank you, Chan. Make him look like even more of a wimp than he already did.

"Uh, anyways. Hi, I'm Vernon," he extended his hand out dumbly.

"Oh, you're Vernon?," your hand squeezed his own (a feeling which Vernon would have to get back to later), "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you smiled before letting go.

"Uh, what?"

He was really killing it today.

"What Hansolie here means to say is, it's nice to meet you too," Mingyu interjected, "Now, onto more important matters - I want evidence," he said in reference to the previous subject.

"Not even a 'hello'? Not even gonna let me get to know your friend?", you looked over at him with a grin that Vernon was too flustered to return.

Before he could even consider interjecting, Mingyu grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you over to the bench press Jeonghan had been sitting on to demonstrate the skill Seokmin had declared you'd been looking to show off to Mingyu. Jeonghan got up as soon as you approached, giving you a grin that told Vernon you were familiar with each other before walking over to where Vernon was standing. He seemed to always keep some distance between himself and any actual exercise. Respectable.

Without even needing to be asked, Seokmin and Chan stood nearby, ready to spot you in case it were necessary while Mingyu helped you load the weights onto the bar.

"So. She's cute, huh?", Jeonghan leaned over to Vernon's side, voice low to ensure the others didn't hear.

"Huh?"

"Y/N. She's really pretty, isn't she?"

"Dude, shut up."

The elder simply snickered, going back to slurping at the basically empty cup of iced coffee he'd been nursing this entire time.

Vernon continued watching you, spacing out from any commentary the other boys had been giving you as you began a set, instead solely focused on you.

As you laid on the bench, your shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest spandex shorts that dug into the muscle hidden under them. Your back arched in order to lift the weighted bar, giving him perfect sight of your silhouette despite the baggy shirt you had on.

God, your body was sculpted ridiculously. Your body was toned, which showed through perfectly from the position you were currently in. The sweat dampening your clothes didn't help matters either.

Vernon wasn't one to thirst on a random Tuesday afternoon, yet here he was, eyes glued to you as if he hadn't just met you. He might've felt more guilty, but both you and his friends were too distracted to notice him, so he let himself indulge this one time.

But then Jeonghan interrupted again.

"Are you sure you don't think she's pretty?", he snickered.

"Fuck, fine! Yes, she's obviously very pretty. What do you want?", he took his eyes away from you to face the manifestation of annoying standing next to him, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Nothing. I was just wondering," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.

Meanwhile, two of his other friends were cheering you on while Mingyu half-heartedly attempted at trash talking you into failing. Even as you carried what to Vernon was incomprehensible weight, you cursed out at Mingyu, something which Vernon appreciated.

Fuck. You were cool.

You were pretty, clearly very confident, strong, got along with his friends, and just incredibly cool. And Vernon had only known you for like ten minutes.

Was this a crush? Did he have a crush on a girl he'd just met?

He was 26. Crushes were so high school, what the hell was happening to him?

"Dude, are you blushing?"

"Han, I swear to god-"

"Oh my god, you are!", the way his eyes lit up at the realization was like it was christmas morning to him. Jeonghan had a strange fascination with mischief Vernon never really understood.

"Who's blushing?"

And suddenly there was another presence next to him, coming to a halt to watch you on what was now your second set of bench presses.

"Nonnie's in love," Jeonghan snickered.

"Shit, with who? Wait, don't tell me," Hoshi stopped for a second to ponder before shaking his head as he gave up, "Never mind. Tell me."

Vernon shook his head. He was friends with idiots.

"Y/N!"

"Dude, not so loud!", Vernon's eyes widened, face only going back to its natural poker face when he noticed you were still being entertained by his three loud friends.

"Dude, wait, that makes sense. They'd make the perfect couple," Hoshi gasped at the revelation., "They're both movie freaks and couch potatoes. But Y/N's way cooler than Vernon," he added.

Jeonghan nodded along in agreement.

You were into movies? You didn't give him the vibe of a couch potato, though. I mean, you were lying there, immense weight on your hands as you challenged the biggest gym buff he knew.

Vernon was about to question them on this assessment. They'd clearly thought about this before, which he wasn't sure whether it was good news for his newfound crush or not. But before he could at least complain at the slight thrown at him, he heard cheering from the spot where he'd been watching you, finally turning back to face you.

"Dude, three sets of eighty pounds with your frame? You're crazy. You might actually be stronger than Mingyu," Seokmin praised you as he offered up a high-five.

"I can do 200 pounds-"

"But you're a tree. It doesn't count," Chan disregarded him, instead choosing to join Seokmin in dapping you up.

Vernon hadn't noticed as he watched you, but Hoshi and Jeonghan had also joined in, leaving him alone in watching you from a small distance away. He went back to feeling kind of out of place.

But he liked seeing his friends with you. It was odd. He'd met many of his friends' friends, but he always felt entirely indifferent about them.

You were different. Vernon felt himself smiling as he watched you snatch the $50 from Mingyu's hand and turn to Hoshi and Jeonghan with a triumphant smile on your face.

And then you looked past them, spotting him and walking the few steps over to him.

"So, gonna congratulate me, new guy?"

He scoffed in amusement.

"I'm new?"

"Here? Clearly. I have seniority at this gym. Now, be a gentleman and congratulate me on robbing your friend of $50."

Vernon couldn't help but return your satisfied smile. You were fun.

"Congrats. Well deserved," he chose to say. He needed to remain nonchalant after his earlier embarrassment.

"Now, c'mon. I'm buying everyone something from the snack bar to celebrate Gyu's defeat," you turned back to head over to the guys, Vernon now following along.

"Fifty's probably not gonna be enough for six people-", someone spoke, Vernon wasn't sure who, too focused on walking by your side.

"It's fine. Gyu'll pay the difference," you shrugged.

"Hey!"

Were you into him? Were you into Mingyu?

You'd been pretty friendly with all his friends that day, but it was impossible not to notice the special attention you paid to Mingyu. But then again, who didn't have a soft spot for Mingyu?

There was no indication you liked him, or that he'd even left some sort of impression on you. If anything, you probably remembered him as the idiot who almost took out both your and his foot. Or maybe as the dumbass who couldn't lift the measly forty-pound dumbbells Chan had been carrying with ease.

Meanwhile, you'd looked for Mingyu, looking far too happy to tease him and take his money.

Maybe Vernon was behind on the current dating world, but the two of you gave him more-than-friends vibes.

But then again, Mingyu held a flirtationship with literally everyone who came into his vicinity. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd at some point flirted with him without realizing it. Except this was an instance in which Vernon needed to be sure before he made a move. Not that he was too scared to do it or anything ...

Sadly for Vernon, he had been too much of a wuss to ask Mingyu about you directly, so he went for someone who he hoped wouldn't tease him.

"So, uhm, do you know Y/N?"

God, he sounded so needy. He was usually smoother than this. He had game. Right?

He'd decided that Joshua his safest bet. He was the only one out of all the guys who could maybe be normal about his curiosity about you.

Joshua could only chuckle at him. His eyes were too focused on scooping at the remnants of the fro-yo Vernon had bought him under the pretense of just hanging out. Casual.

"So you've met. You like her, huh?"

"Dude, what is this? Why does everyone keep asking me that? We've met once," Vernon frowned.

Was he that easy to read?

Joshua shrugged, "She seems like your type. She's single too."

"She is?"

"So you are interested," Joshua grinned.

He groaned. Did all his friends have to be such instigators? Men were the nosier gender, he was sure.

"Listen-"

"It's fine, 'Sol. I don't judge you. She's very pretty. Fun too."

"You talked to Jeonghan, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He told me you almost broke your foot in front of her and proceeded to fuck her with your eyes for like ten minutes straight. Not your finest moment."

Maybe Vernon's memory was failing him, but he was pretty sure those weren't the actual events that happened. Sure, he'd made the entire situation way more embarrassing in his head, but it hadn't been that bad. Right?

"I did not eye-fuck her," he rebutted, "I checked her out. I don't think she really noticed, though."

"Is that good? Wouldn't you rather just ask her out?"

"Uh, am I even her type?", Vernon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he reclined back on his chair, "She seemed to be kind of into Mingyu."

"Dude."

"Listen, it's just-"

"Mingyu just has that effect on people. They don't like each other. Not like that. They're just friends," clarified Joshua, "We all met when we started going to this gym last May. She just became closest to Gyu and Kyeom cause they practically live there."

"So they've never ..."

"No, man, I swear. You can ask Gyu. Or better yet, ask her out,."

"It's not that easy!", Vernon grumbled, hand crumbling the fro-yo container in his hand.

"Why not? You've never had trouble with girls. That's Channie. He's a mess," Josh chuckled.

There was just something about you. Vernon had never become this infatuated with someone. It was kind of embarrassing.

"She just ... She makes me nervous for some reason," Vernon admitted, "She's friends with all my best friends and I never even knew about her. She's funny and cool and confident, and-"

"And she's hot," finished Joshua for him.

"She's so fucking hot, man," Vernon groaned as Joshua chuckled.

"So, what, do you think she's out of your league or something?"

"Maybe? You tell me. I need an objective opinion," Vernon said with more seriousness than intended.

Joshua pretended to mull over it, hand scratching at chin as he started up to contemplate it up until Vernon groaned at him to stop.

"Dude, you're such an idiot. I'm not answering that. Just ask her out!"

All Joshua received in response was a muffled groan as Vernon let himself fall back on his chair. The dramatics felt necessary to him at that moment.

"So, are you going to keep going to the gym?", Joshua laughed at his friend.

"I'm a man on a mission."

"Lost?"

"Fuck! Wh- Oh, shit, hi. Sorry, you scared me," Vernon's hand clutched at his chest in surprise, ears slightly red in embarrassment.

Did he really have to embarrass himself every time he saw you?

"Sorry I keep catching you off guard," you chuckled, "You just looked kind of lost. You've been staring into space for the past three minutes."

"Oh, uh, right. It's only my second time here. I'm not sure where all the guys went," he mumbled.

Now facing you, he tried to take quick note of your appearance. You'd come from the opposite direction as him, meaning you'd likely only gotten here just now. That explained the lack of sweat and your pristine hair, as opposed to last time. It made him wonder what you looked like on a regular basis, outside of the context of the gym.

"Right. Well, they usually go to the basketball court on Sundays, so most of them are probably there now. I hate playing sports with Han and Boo, so I usually just avoid them," you explained.

You seemed to have a great hold on his friends' gym lifestyle.

"We could go look for them," you began, "Or we could hang out on our own."

You smiled at him expectantly. It was a cute and innocent smile, as if you'd been hoping for an opportunity to get him alone.

"Do you, uh, do you mean in the gym?"

You nodded, "C'mon. I'm sure none of the guys actually showed you around, did they?", he shook his head, "Men suck. I'll give you a tour, y'know since you're new," you extended your hand out to him, eyes expectant.

With no time (nor dignity) to wipe his hand of any possible sweat, he grabbed onto your own, gulping at your hold.

This was moving faster than he thought. But then again, you probably just felt comfortable around him due to his association with the rest of your friends. It must be that.

Once you made it out of the general area of the gym, you let go of his hand, now opting for walking side by side instead. The place was quite spacious, so it gave more than enough room for the two of you to take your time walking without getting into anyone's ways. Not that Vernon wanted to extend his time with you as much as possible or anything.

"So, how come you've never been here before?", you suddenly asked whilst showing him what you'd donned as the 'poser gym buff' part of the gym. It looked like it, considering it was filled with shirtless muscular men, all ignoring the blatant 'No Nudity Allowed' sign you'd just walked by.

"Uh, before I answer that - How much did the guys tell you about me?"

You chuckled, "Just, stuff. I'd rather hear it from you, though."

Then you smiled at him again. As if you had no idea it messed with his brain chemistry.

"Just, uhm, not really a gym guy like the other guys. Not sporty, like at all. Always got hit by balls in P.E. Kwan drags me to street basketball matches sometimes, but I always end up embarrassing myself. Oh, and I can't really lift, as you probably noticed the other day," he found himself rambling. Very unusual of him.

"Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you don't come to the gym with the rest of them," you laughed, "But I think you should. You bring a nice balance to whatever's going on with the rest."

"Well, uh, I could be persuaded," he made his attempt at flirting, internally cursing at himself while also praying that it didn't fall flat and force him to never show his face in front of you again.

"Oh, really? I think I could help with that," your tone turned a little softer as you gave him a suggestive smile, "Wanna go check out the pool with me? It's usually empty this time of day."

"Oh, uh, yes! I- uh, yeah," he mumbled his way through, gulping when you took his hand again and led him out of the room.

That's when Vernon's mind started going a mile a minute, but instead of freaking out, he let himself be taken away by you.

~

So, maybe taking you up on your offer to use the pool hadn't been the best idea.

Everything was fine. Really. The pool area was pretty clean and the water felt nice. The temperature was just perfect, allowing for anyone who wanted a quick dip to enjoy themselves without risking frostbite like at the local community pool.

Only issue was you.

According to all prior experience, you had proven to be nothing but a health concern for Vernon since meeting you only a few days ago.

Despite the lukewarm water, Vernon was burning up.

Who thought it'd be a good idea to go to the pool, alone, with his crush as she paraded herself around in a sad excuse for a bikini? Was this even allowed? He was seeing too much skin. Which wasn't an issue for Vernon! He'd never call himself a prude, but ... In this one instance, he wished for some of puritanical rule to prevent him from having to see you swim laps in a bikini that left very little to his imagination.

Except, of course, the material in front of him did give him a lot of room for some very imaginative thoughts.

Vernon had no option but to dip his feet in the pool, sitting at the edge with a towel on his lap in order to cover what he was sure was a small chub growing under his trousers. Meanwhile, he watched you swim for a good ten minutes, dreading the moment you stopped and approached him again.

"Are you really not going to swim with me?", you called from afar, having reached the other side of the pool, "The water's so nice and there's no one here."

"Uhm, nope, I hate getting wet. I'll just watch you," he slapped himself mentally as soon as he said it.

"Well, I wanna get to know you," you told him as you exited the pool, killing Vernon with every step you took in his direction up until you sat next to him. Your legs were practically touching.

"Hi," you smiled at him.

There was an air of confidence you carried every time you spoke to him. He was half sure you were fully aware of his crush and were simply banking on it.

"Hi," he said back, unknowing of where to settle his eyes.

You likely caught onto this, giggling under your breath.

"Vernon."

"Yeah?", he looked to you. He deliberately avoided looking at any of your bare skin, staring directly into your eyes with widened eyes.

"You can look at me, you know. I want you to."

"Oh, uh, I- I didn't want to be rude or anyth- Wait, what?"

You giggled again, "You're funny. Are you this much of a mess with everyone else, or am I getting special treatment?"

"Special treatment for sure."

Again, you laughed. Good. At least he wasn't fucking this up.

"You know, the guys told me you were this ... very stoic and chill type of guy. I was wondering if I'd get to see that guy if I got you alone. But you're even worse without the guys around to hackle you," you accused jokingly.

"So you're doing this on purpose?"

He turned his body to face you more, allowing for your knees to actually knock together this time. The dampness of your skin graced his leg, but it was your bare touch that made him shiver. Still, he felt like less of a loser now. He had somewhat of a handle on the conversation this time around.

"Depending what you mean by 'this.'"

"The bikini? Getting me alone? Sitting this close to me knowing I have to override my brain in order to not look anywhere past your eyes?"

Okay, he was flirting now, apparently. Unexpected, but he welcomed it. His mouth was going faster than his brain. But the slight shift in your expression told him it was a welcomed development.

"Yes," you bit back a smile as you confirmed it, "I wanted to see whether the feeling was mutual or if you were just socially incompetent. No offense."

"None taken. And, uh, what's your verdict?"

"I think it'd be more fun if you tell me," you challenged.

Either he was crazy or you were gradually leaning closer to him. Or maybe it was him. Both? Either way, the proximity increased.

"I do like you. It's painfully obvious and probably worrying how much since we've only met once, but I even went asking my friends about you," he found himself admitting.

"Really? That's funny, because I was asking Mingyu about you," you revealed.

So you didn't like Mingyu. Noted.

"Oh? I, uh, what'd he say?"

You hummed, scooting over and shamelessly laying one of your legs atop his, body leaning completely towards his own. The distance between you was practically nonexistent now, with your eyes even zeroing in on his lips as you spoke.

"He told me you can be shy sometimes. That I should help you out a little."

"A-and, are you? Going to help me out, I mean," he could hear his own gulp.

"Nope," you popped the 'p,' "I want you to take what you want."

"That's ... You're kind of mean," he chuckled breathlessly.

You chuckled back, but you were clearly frustrated by how much he was dragging it.

Without having to move, his arm wrapped around you, courtesy of you literally taking it and placing it on your hip. He was obedient, so he followed along. Next, your hand placed itself on his cheek, tilting his head down and abolishing any sort of distance left. Your lips were practically touching now.

"Vernon, just do it. I want you to. I really want you to."

And so he kissed you.

Immediately, you deepened it, taking control of it all.

All you wanted was for him to take the first step, which in reality he didn't. You held all the power, which you knew. Still, he enjoyed this. He liked that you knew the effect you had on him and that you knew what to do with it.

Plus, he'd be an idiot to complain about your sticking your tongue in his mouth.

Like any thinking, breathing man, he continued to kiss you, not bothering to stifle any groans he left against your lips. He completely disregarded the fact that you were in a public space, that anyone could walk in at any moment — maybe even one of his friends. But it was hard to care when your fingers tangled through the tresses of his hair and sucked at his tongue.

The kiss only stopped when you harshly pulled at his hair, physically removing his face from your own. He mumbled out a few complaints as you did, but eventually woke up from his trance and cleared his throat as you pulled away.

"It's almost 1 o'clock," you said, but all he paid attention to were your swollen lips, "There's a swimming class at one," you began getting up, towering over Vernon as you dried yourself up, "So unless you want to get a fine for fondling in private property, we should go."

You held out your hand for him to stand up, surprising Vernon when your stance didn't falter when helping lift up his weight. That's when he was reminded about your affinity for weight lifting. Hot.

The fleeting thought of you manhandling him crossed through his mind, but he shook it away not wanting to risk a boner at the gym.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe. But it's more fun like this, isn't it?", you giggled as you walked away.

Vernon shook his head to himself as he watched you — very focused on the show you gave him as you walked away.

Vernon continued to see you on an almost daily basis after that — or at least every day in which he got dragged to the gym. Except maybe not in the way that he had hoped.

After that time in which you led him to the privacy of the empty pool patio, the two of you did not spend any time alone. Every single time he saw you was exclusively at the gym, with all the other guys in your immediate vicinity. He didn't even get the chance to speak to you, mostly unable to due to your attention being shared between thirteen men seemingly starved for attention (with him being the biggest culprit).

Like a dumbass, he didn't ask for your number at any time. His shyness around you had mostly left him, but he was still an awkward idiot when it came to taking further steps towards you.

And it wasn't as if you'd stopped provoking him. If anything, your efforts had doubled. Your gym outfits went from baggy shirts and spandex to tiny little sets that showed off as much skin as possible — he had even confirmed with Seungkwan that this was a brand new development in your wardrobe. You were insistent in eyeing him down any time it was his turn to do some sets. You'd bite your lip and stare at him as if you wanted to jump him on the spot. It was safe to say that this messed with his performance (not that he had good form in the first place).

A week of this went by, making him slowly lose his mind. All of his friends became privy to his frustrations, but he was mostly met with mockery. Some told him he was an idiot, that he should just grow some balls and ask you to come over to his apartment. Others simply laughed at how weak he was under your attention.

On the eighth day of this hell, he finally decided to do something about it. If you wanted to play with his sanity, then he'd feed right into it. He didn't care to look like a wimp or like he was down bad for you — he was both of those things, and proud.

Mondays were the day in which the guys went to the gym at night rather than during the day. Something about a lower influx of people at that specific time. And you, you had a tendency of attending the gym at the same time as them most of the time, which meant you were also present.

It was almost closing time by the time the guys were done working out that day. Vernon had to endure three hours due to their insistence that they 'might as well stay til closing.'

As they began to pack up, of course Mingyu managed to hold up the part-timers who were about to close, wondering if it'd be fine to stay an extra ten minutes so a few of his friends could catch the showers they desperately needed. Being Mingyu, of course the part-timers didn't stand a chance to his charms.

Vernon decided to take this as an opportunity to find you alone. The guys (who loved to hog your attention, apparently) would finally be out of his way while he sought you out. It was the perfect chance to at least ask you for your number. Before you left the guys and headed over to the girls' locker rooms, you made sure to eye Vernon far too suggestively for him to misunderstand your intentions. Or at least he hoped so.

For once, Vernon was thankful for Mingyu's habit to befriend every person in his vicinity, as his yapping allowed Vernon to sneak into the women's locker rooms to find you there. It was also thanks to him that he'd be able to you alone rather than accidentally bump into some other gym-goer. He made a mental note to thank him later before beginning his search for you.

This search didn't last long. It was clear to Vernon as soon as he crossed the threshold to the showers in the girl's locker room that you'd been expecting him.

In nothing but a towel, you stood next to a running shower, lower lip trapped under your teeth as you eyed him down. No words to be exchanged. All you had to do was extend your hand out to him for him to finally unfreeze and do something.

Immediately, you dropped your towel and dragged him into the shower, pulling him in so that he'd have you pinned up against the dampened wall. His gym clothes got soaked, but he figured it was worth the temporary inconvenience. Especially when your hands began pawing at him to get undressed within seconds of kissing him.

Just like last time, Vernon lost all sense of time and space in the kiss. His hands were way less awkward than he was, confident in their touching of your body. The wetness of the running water only added to it all, allowing Vernon's hands to easily slide across every curve.

"You took too long to make a move," you huffed into his lips.

Your hands expressed frustration. They glided through his dampening hair, pulling it in order to get his mouth to open for access for your tongue. It was clear to him you had a tendency to take what you wanted, and he was ready to be completely consumed by you.

"I told you," he mumbled, "you make me act like an idiot."

That pulled a chuckle from you as your lips traveled down the wet skin of his neck. Teeth pulled lightly at the skin there, surely leaving reddened marks behind their wake. Every bite and suckle was met by a squeeze of your hips, courtesy of Vernon's needy hands.

"So I'm not being too forward? This is fine?", you pulled away for half a second before Vernon grumbled as he reconnected your lips. You chuckled at his neediness.

"Please be as forward as humanly possible. It's hot."

The two of you continued kissing. Had it not been for the echoing of the water hitting the floor, Vernon was sure the obscene sound of your kissing would've made him blush. It wasn't like him to play tonsil tennis in public like this, but you made his common sense leave his body.

Then you made things all the worse for him.

Pulling away, you eyed him before wrapping your hand around him. Vernon made the mistake of looking down, finding your hand slowly working him, pace so slow it was surely meant to tease. He groaned as he looked back up, eyes becoming stuck at your bare tits for the first time since you'd dropped your towel for him.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned almost pained.

"Yeah? You too, baby," you grinned as you sped up your hand.

Baby? Was he baby now? Fuck.

"I- fuck, this won't be fun if you keep going," he winced despite the increasing pleasure. This only encouraged you to make things even worse for him, though. Your lips attached to his neck again, dick now being grasped with both hands as one worked him and the other tended to his balls.

"I'm having fun," a breath was felt against his skin as you chuckled between kisses to his chest, "I want you to cum right here," you laid one last kiss before moving to his ear, licking and pulling at the lobe, "If you're good, you'll get me on my knees after."

Vernon almost lost it then. He didn't care what you'd ask of him. He needed this. At no other point in his life had he ever needed something as much as he needed to obey your every whim.

He groaned and buried his face in your neck as his hands continued to fondle at you. They took turns between your ass and your breasts, losing any decorum they had left. This was the only pleasure he could give you while you jerked him off, but you loved it. Your pretty sighs against his ear told him that you were getting off on the effect you had on him. His lack of control as he felt you up to his heart's contentment had you reeling. It was sickening how much he enjoyed that knowledge.

"'m gonna cum, fuck. Shit, I need- oh, fuck," he babbled. You squeezed and twisted and played at his cock in ways that had nonsensical words leaving his lips. No further coherent cries left him whilst you had your fun with him.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," you continued to instigate.

As per usual, he was yours to toy with. His body followed your instructions before he could even process your words. The cum splattered on your stomach before trailing down and going down the drain, washed away by the wasted water.

Again, you kissed him, this time without the separation of your hand on his dick standing between you. His arms held onto you tighter than before as he pulled you as close as possible. Sensitivity sparked on his dick when you began absentmindedly grinding against him. Despite the water surrounding you, he was sure it was your own wetness that he felt as you humped him.

When he let his hand explore between your legs, he had to bite back a groan. You were incredibly soaked, instantly dampening his fingers with your nectar.

Your sigh of pleasure against his lips told him all he needed to know as he felt between your legs. A tiny nod from you was confirmation that you wanted him, so his fingers entered you. But not before teasing at your folds with a hard knuckle, up until you bit his lip and grumbled at him.

"Shit, you're tight."

"I'll be tighter when you fuck me," you moaned.

"I, fuck, yeah? You'll let me fuck you, baby?", he breathed out, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you, curling where he knew would have you keening for him.

You gasped out a moan, hands digging into his chest in a worthless attempt to both pull and push him away. Head thrown back, Vernon took advantage to scrape his teeth on the skin there, sucking lightly at the points that had you shuddering. His read on your body was immediate. It gave him a surge of confidence to note every little reaction you had to him. Every moan and every gasp was taken in by him, stored in his hippocampus for future use.

"Oh, fuck, right there, shit, Vernon," you whimpered.

Long fingers, pointed and curled in a come-hither motion began repeating their movements. Touching that spongy part of you, Vernon continued to pull cries out of you, uncaring that anyone could walk by and hear you despite the running shower. The water was beginning to run cold, but your orgasm mattered more to Vernon.

"'m gonna cum, Nonnie," you warned, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

"Cum, shit. Wanna fuck you so bad."

You tightened at that, causing his hardening length to twitch at the thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — though that was impossible to him.

When your orgasm found you, Vernon knew he was in out of his depth. Your back curled as his free hand held you up against him, causing your chest to dig into his own. Head thrown back and fingers digging into his biceps, you were a sight he would never forget. A low groan of his own mixed with your breathy whines at the mere view of your pleasure overtaking you in such a way — and because of him!

His fingers continued to play at your middle throughout your orgasm, refusing to stop toying at your swollen clit until you whined at him to stop with a halfhearted grumble.

He chuckled at the sight. Somehow you managed to look adorable to him right after what had just happened between you.

Just when he thought you'd stop to at least take a breather, you cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss. His fingers were still dripping with you, hand simply flying between your bodies to ensure he didn't get your own substances on you. But shocking him once again, you pulled away, grabbing onto his hand and slipping his fingers in your mouth.

Eyeing him down as you sucked at his fingers, his mouth shot open, letting out a silent groan at the sight — Depraved. That's the only way Vernon could describe himself at that moment as he watched your eyes roll back as you sucked at his digits in your mouth.

"I wanna suck your dick," you deadpanned as soon as you pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

All he could do was choke on his own spit, full well knowing that his dick twitched against his stomach, gracing your own due to the proximity between you.

"I, you don't have to-"

"But I want to. Do you not?"

Your head tilted and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were confused by his hesitation. He was confused too.

As much as he wanted to take you up on your offer, — and very enthusiastically so — he knew there was no way he could last more than one more orgasm (and that was saying a lot).

And despite the thought of you on your knees, mouth wrapped around him as you eyed him in that way you knew made him feel faint making him almost lose his mind, what he wanted most at that moment (or ever, he was pretty sure) was to be inside you.

The thirst he felt for you at that moment was unmatched. It was a sickly feeling considering he'd only known you for a bit over a week, yet your effect on him had been immediate — That, and the fact that you were standing in front of him, completely nude and dripping wet (everywhere), eyeing him like you wanted to devour him until there was no man left in him.

"I wanna fuck you," his voice broke as he said it, a testament to how needy he felt in that moment.

"Yeah?"

There was that pleased, teasing smile on your lips again. And then a hand wrapped around him again, but this time directing him towards your center, holding him hostage as his tip graced at your mound.

"Like this? Want me against the wall? While the guys wait for me to finish 'showering'?", you were challenging him, he knew it.

He took the bait.

For the nth time, your lips connected in a heavy kiss. It was dubious whose spit made its way to his chin, but that was the last thing he had in his mind.

Grabbing onto your toned thigh, he lifted it to wrap around his waist, pushing himself up against you even closer, ridding you of even the smallest inch of distance. Meanwhile, your hand led his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself (and him) by running it up and down your slit, stopping to circle his tip on your clit.

Vernon's forehead fell against yours with a groan at the feeling of your warmth, a whimper leaving him when you took that chance to lick into his mouth, beginning to push him inside, but only the tip.

"F-fuck, please," he pleaded against your lips.

"Begging now?", you chuckled.

"I'll beg every time if it means you'll let me fuck you."

And he meant it more than he realized. Whimpers left his mouth as soon as you began leading him in, legs shaking and a sigh of relief leaving his lips at finally being inside you.

You were so tight, so hot, so fucking wet. He could feel his eyes itching to roll back all the way to his brain at how perfect you felt. Grabby fingers held onto your damp skin, uncaring that the water hitting his back was now cold and only proved as an obstacle to fucking you. Any surrounding circumstances were locked up in the back burner. His brain was just a constant repetition of yesyesyesyes as he willed himself not to cum within the first minute.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good ..." he groaned out.

"I'll feel even better when you move," you huffed out a breath.

"Just one second, baby. You feel so good, I'm sorry."

Readjusting his hands on your hips, he brought you closer, raising the leg you had wrapped around him a bit and leaning you upwards. From this angle, he began to move, starting off slow to test the waters. And god, did that reward him.

The prettiest sigh he'd ever heard left your lips, accompanied by subsequent gasps of pleasure. Sharp nails dug into his back, petulant in their attempt to pull him closer, but the took it like a champ.

"Nonnie, fuck! R-right there!", you cried out.

And then he was gone.

He was no longer himself. No longer caring to extend his orgasm and only worried about hitting that spot. The spot that had your back arching and your chest pressing onto his. That same spot that morphed your face in a way that Vernon knew he'd remember for endless nights after this.

Continuing to piston desperately into you. Strength he didn't know he had suddenly took over as he manhandled your body as he wished. Every thrust was accompanied by your own attempts at pushing back against him, leading to a depraved harmony of slapping skin and gasps of pleasure.

"Didn't, shit, didn't think you were this strong," you hiccuped out.

"That's what good pussy does to a man," he joked, but deep down probably meant it.

You tried to laugh, but the sound was interrupted by another moan, head throwing itself back and resting against the shower wall. You tightened yourself around him then, groaning something out to him about not making you laugh. He couldn't really process it when you were suctioning him in so deliciously.

Soon enough, he felt his high approaching, making him panic and accelerate the speed of his thrusts. His mind was going a mile a minute as he attempted to take you down with him, mumbling out expletives into your skin, huffing and groaning at the way you internmently tightened around him.

"Need you to cum with me, okay? Please, it'll be so fucking embarrassing if you don't."

You chuckled between gasps, pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm there, just, fuck, keep doing that."

He was far too gone, lips barely able to kiss back in the midst of his orgasm taking over. He couldn't do this. Couldn't handle how good it all felt. Couldn't deal with your tongue in his mouth or your nails digging into his skin, much less with the sudden strangulation your cunt performed on his cock as your own orgasm arrived. And then your high pitched moans came into the picture, making him truly lose his mind.

"It's so good, oh god, so fucking good. You feel so- fuck, shit, so tight, baby," he babbled against your lips.

"So good, hmm? Fucking me so good, Non," you moaned back.

Vernon swore he blacked out after that, not knowing what happened as soon as the dramatic influx of pleasure reached him. The aftermath was full of dizziness and a feeling of fulfillment Vernon had never experienced before. It was like waking up from an amazing nap, except this time he was still plunged deeply into the prettiest girl he'd ever seen as she pressed lazy kisses to his chest.

"Are you alive?", you asked when you reached his lips, pecking them once, twice, thrice before he tried deepening it, only to find you pulling away with a giggle.

"Maybe not. I'd be fine if I wasn't. That would've been a great way to go."

"You're funny after sex," you noted.

"It's a little easier when I'm already inside you. It's less nerve-wracking that way."

"Yeah? So are you gonna go back to stuttering through every sentence once you pull out?", you tightened yourself around him to somehow prove your point, making him wince.

"Nope. Staying here. I'll even risk hypothermia with this cold ass water," that earned him another laugh and even a kiss.

"Okay, Romeo. Mingyu can only hold off the part-timers for so long, c'mon," you pressed your hands on his chest, making him groan but follow along to your instruction as per usual. — maybe this was something to look into. Later.

~

"I was not expecting that from you," you breathed out a laugh once you were dressed, exiting the dressing room hand-in-hand.

You were kidding. Maybe.

"I told you I'm not as socially awkward as I seem. I'm just an idiot around you," he chuckled. His hand swung back and forth with yours jovially.

He was very happy right now. Sue him.

"Well, a very skilled idiot, then."

He laughed along with you as you approached the main lobby, finding two familiar men leaning against a wall. It was clear in their demeanor that they'd been waiting a while, with Mingyu sighing in frustration when he spotted you.

"Half an hour? What could you have been doing in there for half an hour?", whined Seokmin.

"Well-"

"Don't. Rhetorical question," interrupted Mingyu.

The two of you snickered, walking past them and towards the exit. Both boys exchanged a look as they followed slightly behind you.

"Hold on. No 'thank you'?", Mingyu interrupted again.

Mingyu stopped you from walking away, grabbing onto your arm so you'd turn around and subsequently causing your hand to disconnect from Vernon's

You sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Fine. Thank you, Gyu. I guess I owe you one."

"Wait, what?", Vernon looked quizzically at you both.

Mingyu grinned stupidly at both of you, with an equally idiotic Seokmin standing next to him with a mirrored expression.

"She asked us if we could stall so she'd get you alone," Mingyu started.

"I was just going to pull the fire alarm, but Gyu figured that probably wouldn't work," Seokmin continued, "and now Gyu scored a date with the receptionist, so all wins here, I guess."

Vernon turned to you, both scandalized and amused, "You-"

"Hey, I told you. You were taking too long. A girl has needs," you shrugged, grabbing onto his hand again and beginning to walk away as if it was nothing.

Vernon could've argued back. But following you seemed like the more obvious response.

Maybe he'd been a total loser throughout all this, but he scored the girl in the end. All was good.

Except now he'd probably have to go to the gym every other day.

to read short 1.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: established relationship, afab reader, smut, morning sex, dry humping, tit worship, sorta switch!vernon, etc.

wc: 332 (teaser); 1789 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"God, no, I can't go again," Vernon grumbled, face planted on his pillow.

The man was practically passed out, unmoving as he stayed cuddled into his blankets. The only movements out of him were the occasional squeezing of his arms around the polar bear plush you'd gotten him a few weeks back.

Vernon was more than content staying like this for the rest of the day. Only thing that would've made it all even better would be if you hadn't insisted on getting up and away from his arms.

Unfortunately for him, you were strong enough to flip him over.

Usually, this would be something he enjoyed. Something he keened over, even. But the context was different.

This time you weren't flipping him over to straddle him and make him lose his mind. No, this time was so you could continue to insist at him to get up, but now forcing him to look you in the eye as you did so.

"Vernon, we agreed on this," you pouted at him.

You were too far for his liking. While he laid on bed, body completely stretched out and occupying way too much space, you were propped up on your knees on the same bed, except not close enough for him to pull you into him. This was strategic, he guessed.

"It's been three months. How much longer do I have to keep going to the gym?"

"It's kind of a lifetime type of thing."

He groaned.

"If I show up without you you're just gonna get twelve men barging in here in an hour," you reasoned, crawling closer to him.

"Is there any way I can convince you to not make me go?"

"Is there any way I can convince you to go?", you rebutted, eyes flirty.

Vernon knew this move.

"You know you can convince me. You're very well aware of all the ways in which you can convince me. It's kind of mean of you to threaten me like this."

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[sailorsoons]

Hello, Darling (c.hs)

Pairing: Vernon x afab reader

Summary: Vernon has been one of your best friends for years. Shy, quiet and calm, he’s always been a steady rock for you. He has no idea you’re in love with him, but that’s neither here nor there. After a strange series of events on Halloween night, Vernon seems a little… different, and the new version of him both terrifies and thrills you. 

Word Count: 21,558

Genre: Supernatural, Friends to Lovers, Thriller

Type: Smut, Angst

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Explicit language, recreational drinking and smoking, crude humor, some of the members of SVT are a bit of an asshole in this - it is not a reflection of how I think of them, mentions of occult practices, a NOT ACCURATE spirit summoning/ritual, mentions of a murder suicide case/event, mentions of murders, light mentions of blood, mentions of infidelity, catching someone in a sexual act (not the main couple), Vernon is a bit of an asshole at times, mentions of insecurities/confused feelings, I owe Chan and Mingyu an apology for how I wrote them, sexual tension, some angst, sexually explicit content including thigh riding, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, a lot of biting and scratching, choking/breath play, vaginal fingering, a lot of spit and cum mentioned, unprotected sex, references to sub space, Vernon takes a dom role but it is not explicitly established, Vernon gets a little bit possessive, calls reader a slut a total of one time, some light finger sucking, reader is at several points annoyed with the women in this fic which can come off a lil bitchy, general creepy scenes in woods and in some dark spooky places. 

Additional Content Warning: It is implied by the end of this fic that Vernon is possessed to some degree by a spirit in this. I make zero distinction as to whether it’s Vernon or the spirit calling the shots or if there is even a difference/distinction between the two, which poses the fair question of consent in parts of this that I do not address or provide nuance to. The lack of clarification is due to the POV of this fic being entirely from reader’s perspective and she doesn’t have a clue what’s going on until the very end, and thus we are unable to unpack to what degree this character is or is not himself. If that lack of nuance bothers you, that is valid but this is not the fic for you. 

❀ A/N: This was an original request fill for my Haliween event on my first blog for @eoieopda. Thank you for letting me write you 20k+ of this Vernon :)

A/N 2: I AM NOT WRITING A PART 2 TO THIS ON PURPOSE. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE AMBIGUOUS.

Reader Notes: This reader is never explicitly gendered as girl/she/her etc. so I have listed them as an afab reader.

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Cool wind lifts the pages of your book, threatening to flip them over. You press your fingers flat to the page, fighting to keep them from flitting over and losing your place in the story. There’s not much daylight left in the sky as the afternoon dies to make way for the evening, but you’re eager to finish the chapter, craving to unravel the mystery you’ve been working your way through the past week. 

Atmospheric sounds play in your headphones as you read. Your legs are crossed, book in your lap as you sit on the concrete wall separating the quad from one of the sidewalks on campus. Now that there’s a chill in the air, you crave being outside, finding the opportunity to sit wherever you can on campus to crack open a book before the sunlight finally fades. 

Flipping the page, you only get a split second warning of the shout you hear through your headphones before something hits you in the back of the head. You yelp, dropping the book to the ground as your headphones clatter from your head to the grass from the impact. 

Scowling, you swivel around to see Mingyu jogging over, his hand over his mouth as apologies start pouring out of him. A flush creeps up your neck as he approaches, his friends and fellow fraternity brothers watching from afar. Some of them are bent over cackling, the others have their hands on their head, visibly stressed from hitting you with their football.

Again. 

“I am so sorry,” he pleads, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Seungcheol threw wide.” 

“Maybe play on a rec field, then?” You snap, sliding from the wall, picking up your headphones and book. You kick the football toward him, irritated. “There’s literally so many other places you can play. Don’t you have a yard at your little frat house?” 

“It’s being used for float building for the Halloween parade.”

“Convenient.” 

For the most part, Mingyu isn’t so bad. He’s a little loud and obnoxious, but he’s always nice and he does seem to mean it when he picks up the football and apologizes again. It’s more than a lot of his fraternity brothers would do, though it’s not much now that they’ve managed to hit you twice with the same ball. 

Someone like Mingyu wouldn’t even pay attention to you if it weren’t for Vernon, though. As Mingyu retreats, the reason you’re even friends with Mingyu appears on the sidewalk, coming toward you with his hands in his pockets, hood pulled up on his head and headphones on. He lifts his chin in greeting to Mingyu, but Vernon’s brown eyes focus on you, his true destination. 

Vernon pulls his hood and headphones down when he’s within a few feet, jerking his thumb at Mingyu. “What did he want?” 

“He was apologizing for hitting me with the football. Again.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah. They hit me earlier.”

Vernon hums, displeased. He doesn’t say much, instead turning to lean against the wall, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets again.

The last embers of sunlight hit his side profile, stunning you to momentarily silence. In a halo of fiery light, Vernon looks like a god. His light brown eyes turn burnished gold, reflecting the dying sun. His hair is spun copper, strands dancing in the breeze as he watches the world around him. 

Not for the first time, you think that you understand why Helen of Troy inspired a thousand ships to come after her. Vernon’s face is the kind of thing you’ve read about in all of your mythologies and folktales for your Occult Studies major, so beautiful that it can’t be real.  

If Vernon notices you staring, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes watch the other members of his fraternity play football, one of them crashing into someone on a lawn chair. He shakes his head and mutters under his breath, wearing his second-hand embarrassment silently as he watches them apologize for the millionth time. 

Vernon is nothing like the rest of his fraternity. You’re still unsure why he even joined. It was something he had done his freshman year going into school, wanting to put himself out there and make friends. 

He certainly looks the part - he’s handsome and in shape from playing soccer in highschool, and he’s got good fashion sense for a college student. But he’s quiet and a little awkward, unsure how to navigate conversations with most people who aren’t in his immediate circle of friends and shy to an almost crippling point. 

It had taken Vernon seven weeks of being your lab partner before he finally spoke more than three sentences to you. For the longest time, you’d assumed it was because he thought you were beneath him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. Greek life on campus tended to stick with their own. 

Now, you know it was because he didn’t know what to say or how to start a conversation. You’d only managed to get him to talk to you when he noticed a song by Frank Ocean bleeding from your headphones, piquing his interest. 

Four years later, talking to Vernon is easy. Well, maybe not easy. You’ve got years of friendship between you now and you know what makes Vernon tick, but the butterflies you get when you’re around him and the way your heart swells when he does something so simple makes it a little harder. 

Like now, as day fades to evening and the world is awash in purple and gold, and he’s looking at the watercolor sky like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, completely unaware that while he’s in awe of the sky, you’re in awe of him. 

Vernon jerks forward, making you flinch. You have no idea what he’s doing until his hand is in front of you, smacking down the football that has been sent your direction again. You huff in frustration, watching as this time it’s Chan who jogs over to get it. 

“Are you all fucking serious?” You demand. He slows his approach, eyes darting to Vernon as though looking for help from his friend. Vernon says nothing, bending over to pick up the football and toss it to Chan. “I should shove that football up your ass.” 

“Maybe not the football,” Chan quips, catching it. He looks you up and down, head cocking to the side a little. His mouth lifts at the corner and there’s a glint in his dark eyes that makes you even angrier. “I’m open to other things, though?” 

“You’re so gross.”

“What? You’re hot when you’re mad.” 

“Go away, Chan!” You shriek, flustered and angry as you spin around to grab your things and storm off. You only get a few feet before realizing Vernon is still leaning on the wall. “Are you coming or not?”

He scrambles after you, nearly tripping over his own feet to catch up. Chan is snickering as he runs back toward where the others wait for him, yelling a trilling bye toward you and Vernon as you charge north toward the main campus parking lot. 

“He’s so annoying,” you gripe, shoving your book in your bag. Vernon hums, noncommittal. You glance at him. “Nothing more to add?” 

He lifts a shoulder. “It’s cause they think you’re hot, Lovecraft.”

You smile at the nickname, fondness sweeping through you. He’d started calling you Lovecraft your freshman year after learning about your major, deciding that it just fit. You like it - at least coming from Vernon, who understood Occult Studies was more than just spooky and magic and the metaphysical. 

“They think anything with a set of tits and a hole to stick their dick in is hot. I’m sure a blowup doll would blow their fucking mind.” 

Vernon’s mouth twitches at that. “You’d hate Chan’s room.”

“Don’t give me that visual!” 

His laugh is warm. He bumps shoulders with yours, grinning at you as the two of you walk. You feel the telltale sign of your traitorous heart beating extra hard at his closeness, your gaze shooting to the floor as you try to hide any evidence of your feelings that might lurk on the surface of your expression. 

Thankfully, Vernon never seems to notice. You’re glad that he doesn’t. You don’t think you’re very good at hiding how you feel, but he is equally bad at picking up on it, totally oblivious to the long stares and the way you fumble over your words when he gets too close. 

Vernon has that effect on a lot of people. His proximity to being attractive has always outweighed his inability to make small talk among the female population on campus. The amount of times you’ve watched girls openly flirt with him and whisper about what it would take to get him to crack was insurmountable. 

Autumn wind kicks up leaves at your feet. Neither one of you says anything as you walk, simply content to be together. It’s one of your favorite things about him, never feeling pressure to perform or to have conversation. Being with Vernon is just… easy. Natural, even. 

The parking lot is slowly emptying as the rest of the late afternoon classes end. A few unlucky evening class students pull in, slamming their car doors and rushing off to their auditoriums. Vernon’s car is easy to find and you let yourself in, sliding into the passenger seat like it’s yours - it kind of is. 

“Pizza?” he asks, engine humming to life. 

“Please.” His lips twitch in a soft smile as he nods, flipping on the radio. You hum, leaning forward and turning up the volume. “I love this song.” 

Vernon’s smile increases as you lean back, the sounds of Emotional Oranges filling the car. He rolls the windows down once he’s on the road proper, cool wind kissing your skin. You pull your feet up onto the seat, leaning toward the window as the fading twilight brushes past you. 

Outside the car, the world smells like pine. You take a deep breath in, loving the way the October air feels just right. Fall is always your favorite time of year, and with the music playing in the background, wind in your hair and Vernon drumming on the wheel, you don’t think there could be anything better in the world. 

Sal’s Pizzeria glows against the dark, a beacon of hunger and hope against the night. The giant pizza slice on the roof blinks rapidly, the neon a little bit broken. Gold light glows through the windows as you climb out the car, gravel crunching beneath your feet. 

A bell chimes as the door opens and a group of students pour out, laughing and carrying boxes. Vernon catches the lip of the door and holds it open for you, gesturing you to enter first. The smell of bread and warm air hits you in the face, your lips curving as you tell the girl at the host stand two.

College students and local residents fill the restaurant. The hostess leads you to a booth in the corner, the vinyl seats creaking under you as you hop-slide your way in. She hands you the menus, her eyes lingering on Vernon as she does, lips twitching when she asks if there’s anything else you need. When he doesn’t answer, you shake your head, shooting her a thin-lipped smile. 

She’s hesitant to leave but she does, casting one last look over her shoulder as she heads back to the stand. You look at Vernon too, studying him. He’s none the wiser, brown eyes scanning the menu even though you know he’s going to order the same thing. 

When the server comes, Vernon does as expected: orders a diablo pizza with a side of fries. You shake your head a little, asking for the white feta pizza, handing over the sticky menus. When the server is gone, Vernon leans back in the seat, sipping his coke as he drinks you in, wordless. 

You kick your feet up on his side of the booth next to him and he lets you, patting your ankle fondly when he sets his drink down. He has no idea how torturous that alone is, the simple comfort of his familiar touch enough to send your eyes averting across the room, trying to control your breathing. 

“What are the favorites and least favorites this week?” he asks, balling up the paper his straw came in. 

Favorites and least favorites is a game you like to play with him. It’s not so much of a game as it is a routine where you tell him your favorite piece of material from your classes and your least favorite. Most people dismiss your major as too peculiar for interest. No one knows what you’re supposed to do with Occult Studies but it fascinates you.

And Vernon, who has always had a keen interest in the goings on in your classes and homework. 

“We’re in the psychology of the occult module.” He nods, eyes fixed on you. “Mostly covering the psychology of community as it relates to the occult. We have sections on covens, clans, actual cults, sects and more modern mass followings.” 

“Hmm. So like… Twitter stans.”

You smile a bit. “Something like that. We covered the maenads in class today. Ever heard of them?” He shakes his head and you lean forward, elbows on the table. “They were women in Ancient Greece devoted to the god Dionysus and they were believed to be possessed by the god. They were said to have wild parties in the woods with one another where they’d do all manner of sordid things, all while under the influence.” 

“A Friday night for Chan.”

“Exactly. A lot of historians call them crazy and speculate they were raving mad, but if I was a woman under the thumb of men in Ancient Greece…”

“Shit, I’d get fucking crazy in the woods with my friends too.”

“Exactly. It was more about reveling in female companionship and being unfettered from the male-dominated societal norms.” 

The arrival of your dinner interrupts the conversation. Both of you lean backward, making room for the hot plates and Vernon’s basket of fries. You slide your feet down from his side of the booth, leaning to grab the red pepper flakes from the corner of the table. He grabs salt, immediately dusting his fries.

“Ugh, you could have at least let me have some first.” He looks up at you through his lashes, brows raised. “They’re already salted, Vernon.”

“Not enough.”

“You know, if you were haunted or possessed you’d never want the salt.” He gives a questioning hum. “Salt is used in purification rituals. It’s believed spirits hate it because it’s used in banishing spells and rituals. It’s why a line of salt keeps them out.”

“Good thing I’m hungry, not haunted.” 

You snort, taking a piece of your pizza from the tray. “Speaking of haunted, are we going to your Halloween party this weekend?”

“My halloween party?”

“You are in the fraternity, Vernon. Yes, yours.” 

He makes a face and tears into his pizza. You shake your head as he lets out a sound, huffing and tilting his head backward as he tries to deal with the too-hot food in his mouth burning him. “Ya,” he says around the slice. “I guess so.” 

“What are you going to wear?” He raises a brow at you, swallowing down the hot bite. You pout, sagging in your seat. “Dude, you have to dress up. You can’t just go in a black shirt and a baseball hat.” 

“Why not?” You kick him under the table and he winces, ducking down to rub at his shin. “Shit, fine. Okay, what do I go as?”

You grin, picking up your appropriately cooled pizza. “Leave it to me.” 

-

“This makeup itches,” Vernon mutters, looking up at you through long lashes. You hush him, putting the finishing touches on the black line down his mouth. “Couldn’t I have gone as something easier?”

“What is easier than black jeans and a jacket you already own, huh? Stop talking, I’m gonna fuck up this line and this makeup is perfect so far.” 

It’s true. You’ve outdone yourself on turning Vernon’s face into a skull, taking inspiration from American Horror Story for the costume. Vernon is a low effort kind of person, so getting him into costume is a lot easier when all it requires are clothes he already owns and makeup that you have to do anyway. 

Stepping away from him, you admire your handy work. His eyes are painted black, hollowed out for the skull. His dark hair is slicked back, the perfect skeleton. He looks… good. Painfully good, which makes you nervous and turn away quickly, heart flipping. You’re not sure what it says about you that Vernon staring at you while painted as a deadly skeleton makes your heart race but… it does. 

“How do I look?”

“Terrifying,” you admit, turning back to him. “But good.” 

He grins and if it were anyone else but Vernon, you’d be terrified. Maybe you did a little too good of a job. 

“What are you again?”

“One of the witches from American Horror Story Coven. Close your eyes, I’m going to use setting spray.” 

Darkness blankets the sky by the time you’re both scrambling down the steps and into an Uber. The driver does a double take when they see Vernon, eyes watching nervously in the rearview as you give him the address. 

“That’s at a closed down gas station.”

“Yep,” you agree, leaning back into the seat.

The driver mutters something about fucking college kids and fucking holiday but otherwise says nothing about the questionable location. He doesn’t need to know that a mile from the abandoned gas station is also an abandoned farmhouse notorious for unsanctioned parties and being distinctly haunted. 

Haunted isn’t your favorite thing in the world. You didn’t like to mess with ghosts, despite your area of study. You were infinitely more interested in the intersectionality of occult studies and modern culture and society and less enthused about the idea of drinking stale beer from a foamy tap in the middle of a murder house. 

If the driver thinks there’s anything weird about other people being dropped off at the gas station - you’re sure he does - he says nothing, ignoring the two of you as you get out of the car and dive into the night air. Vernon is close behind as you take a few steps away from the car, eyeing the old gas station.

The windows have long since been broken and cracked, foggy with time. The stations are stripped of their labels and stickers, just white residue left behind and no pumps. A few people lounge around the building smoking, dressed in a variety of halloween costumes. 

Nervous, you look up at Vernon. His smile is small and he juts his chin toward the dirt road that leads through the woods. Nodding, you both fall into step, sand and gravel crunching beneath your feet as you go. Vernon recognizes a few people associated with his fraternity and others, throwing a casual wave or a nod as you pass by people.

Music echoes down the road. It’s a little less foreboding in the dark trees when you can hear Michael Jackson’s thriller coming down the way and the dull roar of voices. The bend in the road straightens out, the line of trees giving way to flat land. 

The farmhouse is pretty, even in old age. It’s two stories, glowing from within from all of the battery lanterns and lights being used to light the party. A generator roars somewhere behind the house, light flooding the yard where people mingle and crowd the kegs. 

A chill slithers down your spine as you enter the yard, the broken gate doing a poor job at keeping trespassers out. Even with the lighting, shadows dance as you navigate through people, the strange anxiety crawling up your throat worsening as you near the house. 

Vernon pulls the sleeve of your dress so that you’re closer to him, his fingers steady and calm as he leads you up the steps where you can clearly hear Mingyu’s howling laughter inside. 

Bright light fills the house. As do a crush of people and beer pong tables, the abandoned home turned into a raucous display of drinking and debauchery. If you weren’t so distracted by the wave of people pushing you into Vernon’s arm, you might be impressed at how much you could forget the farm home was abandoned because someone had been murdered here. 

“I need a drink,” Vernon announces, continuing to pull your arm after him as he plunges toward what used to be the kitchen.

It’s where you find Mingyu dressed as a lifeguard - and loudly yelling directions. He blows his whistle shrilly when he sees you and Vernon, pointing at the two of you and spitting the whistle out of his mouth to scream, “NOT WET ENOUGH!”

“What a weird way to offer drinks,” you mutter. Chan, who seems to be on lifeguard assistant duty - while dressed in a horrid felt dinosaur costume - scrambles to get you drinks, spilling rum as he tips it over into a cup. “No ice?” 

“There’s not a fridge,” he pouts, shoving the cup in your hand. His eyes drink you in. “Are you a hot goth or?” 

Instead of answering him, you roll your eyes and turn to Mingyu, who blows the whistle again. Both you and Vernon wince, the latter throwing back his drink to chug it all before thrusting the cup back at Chan. “That’s gonna get real tiring.” 

Mingyu comes around the corner of the old island countertop, pumping his fists in the air to the music rattling through the house. “Vernon you look fucking sick!” He and Vernon do the little hand-clap-to-half-hug men do. Mingyu turns to look at you, eyes dark. “Are you like, a hot goth?” 

Your smile is plastic as the whistle around Mingyu’s neck. “Sure.” 

Mingyu, dancing and moving toward the living room, reaches out to you. “Come dance with me! This song fucks.”

“Decidedly not!” 

“Go ahead, Lovecraft!” Vernon urges, pushing you toward the obnoxious lifeguard with a shit-eating grin as he imitates Mingyu’s voice. “This song fucks.” 

Before you can chastise him for egging his fraternity brother on, Mingyu has you sucked into the dancing crowd, throwing his hands in the air as he swivels his way through the crowd. You try to knock back as much of the lukewarm drink as you can, cringing at the burn of cheap rum and not-iced coke. 

Bodies pressed in. Mingyu is close to you, a hand going to your waist. You frown and look over your shoulder, eyes scanning for Vernon. You know he’s probably lingering on the edge of the crowd, watching you with a smirk over the rim of his cup as he watches Mingyu roll his hips toward you.

“Mingyu,” you snap, turning back to him when you don’t find Vernon. “It’s the Monster Mash, it doesn’t require grinding.” 

“I mean, if you wanna graveyard smash…”

“You’re all insufferable! All of you!”

Still, you sway back and forth, trying to stomach finishing the rest of your horrid drink. It takes an effort, but shaking your head at Mingyu and judging him silently gets you most of the way through it until Soonyoung - dressed in the same tiger costume from last year - crashes through the crowd into the pair of you, thrilled when he realizes who it is he has slammed into. 

“Hot goth!” he screams, pointing at your outfit. “Where is your other half?” 

You don’t have to ask what Soonyoung means and both the drink and the accusation have you flushing. You shrug a shoulder, eyes surveying the party. Before either of you can find Vernon, Joshua appears at Soonyoung’s side, leaning to his ear to murmur something. Soongyoung’s face lights up and he grins at you, grabbing you by the wrist to yank you through the crowd. 

“Hello?” you demand, pulling your wrist from his grip. “Have you heard of asking?”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“The last time I heard that was promptly followed by you showing me that stupid peach tattoo on your ass.”

“First of all, that tattoo is amazing.” He heads to the stairs, which you eye warily. “Second, Vernon is already upstairs, come on. You like weird ghost shit, you’ll like this.”

Without waiting for a reply, Soonyoung thunders up the stairs. You cringe, waiting for a foot to go through a dry plank and send him falling. It doesn’t happen, though. Tentatively, you creep up the stairs after him, eyes glued to each of the steps as you go. 

It’s colder upstairs, the windows in the rooms open to the elements. You shiver, looking down the hall to Soonyoung heading into a bedroom. You tentatively follow him, stopping at the threshold of the doorway to survey the people inside.

Vernon is one of them, back pressed to the wall near the window, his eyes focused on his boots in front of him, hands tucked into his pockets. A girl next to him dressed as Red Riding Hood is leaning close, speaking to him rapidly. Nothing on his face indicates he’s listening. Then again, his expression is hard to read while painted as a skull, mystifying and dark as you follow Soonyoung down the hall. 

Soonyoung goes straight toward a pile of things on the floor next to Seungcheol’s feet in the corner of the room. The president of Vernon’s fraternity pays Soonyoung no mind, eyes totally focused on the pretty fox in front of him, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

Suddenly, the room feels too intimate for you, like everyone is a couple tucked away. You have half a mind to go back downstairs when Vernon looks up at you, dark eyes zeroing in. His face is ten times more intense with the skull paint, pinning you to the spot. 

Everything dulls to the background for a second. You don’t dare breathe, too afraid to shatter the moment as he stares at you, unblinking. His eyes glitter in the darkness of the room, two amber pools reflecting the moonlight. 

Joshua enters the room behind you, shattering the spell as you step out of his way. You turn back to Vernon, clearing your throat. He pulls a hand from his pocket, beckoning you over. Mouth dry, you obey, skittering over toward him quickly as you observe the materials that Soonyoung is sifting through in the corner. Candles. Matches. Salt. A bell. 

“Soonyoung,” you say sharply, slowing your step. “Why do you have ritual materials?”

He looks up at you, his grin wide. “Told you that you’d like this.” 

“What is this?” You turn back to Vernon, who shrugs one shoulder. 

Hesitantly, you take the unoccupied space next to him, casting the girl at his side a cursory glance. She observes your costume. “Are you a hot goth?” 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, head thunking against the wall as you watch Soonyoung stand, materials in hand. Vernon coughs next to you, trying to cover his laugh. You glare at him sidelong and he says nothing, but his skeleton mouth is screwed up in a smirk. “What is he doing?”

“No clue.”

Soonyoung walks over to the bedroom door, looking down the hallway before shutting it. You fight a shiver, disliking how quiet the room becomes, cut off from the rest of the world. The window near you is the only source of light, and the only one shut on the second level of the abandoned home. 

“What time is it?” Soonyoung asks Joshua.

“11:45.” 

“Perfect.” Soonyoung spins, eyes falling on you. “Want to talk to a ghost?” 

All eyes turn to you in the room. You open and close your mouth, confused. “What?” 

“Do you want to talk to a ghost? Like someone who died?” 

Your eyes drift to the candle, bell and matches in Soonyoung’s hand. A tingle spreads over your skin and your spine stiffens. “Soonyoung that better not be to invite a spirit in.” 

His grin grows. “Come on, you are the ghost major or whatever. You should be thrilled to do this.”

“Occult Studies. And that doesn’t mean I fuck with the unknown or make a mockery of the dead. We’ve been over this.” 

“It’s basically the same thing, come on. You learn it all in class.” 

“No.” 

He pouts. “You’d be best at it, though. Rumor has it that when the veil is thinnest, you can talk to the spirit that haunts this house.” 

“The murderer? Or the murdered?” Soonyoung shrugs. “I doubt either would be very happy a bunch of drunk college kids are trying to bother them. My answer is no.” 

“Ugh. I was kind of counting on you doing it.” 

“Do it yourself.”

“I don’t study ghost shit!”

“Occult! Studies!”

“Ghost shit,” Soonyoung assures the room confidently.

“I’ll do it,” Vernon sighs, pushing off the wall. “Leave her alone.” 

Soonyoung’s eyes are alight as Vernon steps toward him. You reach out to grab his wrist, pulling him back. “Don’t.” 

“It’s fine.”

“Vernon.”

His eyes are soft when he looks at you. As soft as the terrifying makeup allows, anyway. “It’s fine, Lovecraft. Let me. He’ll stop asking.”

“I’m right here.”

“We know,” you and Vernon say in unison. You feel warm, chewing the inside of your cheek before nodding. You drop his wrist and turn to Soonyoung, eyes hard. “Give me that, you’ll do it wrong. Tell me what the mythos is.”

“What math? You need math?”

“The story, Soonyoung. What is the fucking story of this house?”

“Right. Apparently some dude murdered his girlfriend in here and then hung himself in that closet.” He points to a door you didn’t see when you walked in, dark and far away from the window. “Legend says at midnight, ring the bell three times and step into the closet with a candle. If the candle blows out, the spirit is with you. If it doesn’t, it didn’t work.” 

Grabbing the items from Soonyoung’s hand, you look at Vernon. “When you’re done, ring the bell three times again and say: Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.” 

“Thank you,” Vernon repeats gently, taking the bell from your hand. “I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Everyone else take candles,” you direct, voice rough with irritation. You glare at Soonyoung and Seungcheol in particular as you shove candles in their hands. “Stand in the four corners of the room. Did you bring sage, Soonyoung?”

“Bring what?”

“Of course not, why would you?” Everyone starts moving to the corner of the room, using matches to light their candles. The room feels unnaturally cold now, despite your long sleeves. Turning back to Vernon, you say, “It’s probably a stupid rumor.”

“Probably.”

“If your candle goes out, just ring the bell, say the words, and dismiss it.” 

“Right.” 

“You don’t have to do it, Vernon.”

His mouth kicks up at the corner. “I’m not worried, Lovecraft. You are.” 

Letting out a breath, you give a laugh that’s only half-there. You are nervous. You don’t like the idea of inviting a spirit into Vernon’s space, and though Soonyoung’s little ritual doesn’t really sound right, you’re not going to correct him. 

Still, you feel unsettled as you light your own candle and then Vernon’s. He cradles it in his hands as you escort him to the door. Tucked under your arm is the canister of salt. Crouching down, you pour the salt in a thick white light in front of the door, careful to ensure that there are no breaks and that it covers the entire entryway from corner to corner.

“Be careful when you step over it and when you open the door,” you instruct, standing up. The candle in your hand flickers unsteadily. “Don’t break the line. The idea is that if Soonyoung’s stupid summoning works, the spirit can’t get through the salt.”

“Banishing and all that,” Vernon recalls with a smile. Your heart flips. “I remember.” 

“Come on, you only have a minute!” Soonyoung calls eagerly. 

Shooting him a glare that silences him, you turn back to Vernon. “Ring the bell three times. Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Got it.” 

Unsettled you shuffle back from the door a little bit. You don’t go to a corner of the room like you’ve asked everyone else, unwilling to totally leave him by himself. Heart hammering, you hold your candle in front of you, cradling the warmth like a second heart. 

Vernon is unbothered. You can see it in the loose set of his shoulders and the way he sighs, already tired of Soonyoung’s antics. The party downstairs feels a million miles away as you watch Vernon stand in front of the closed closet door, looking up at it, unimpressed.

“It’s midnight,” Joshua whispers from the corner. 

Vernon doesn’t make any sound that he’s heard Joshua, but he lifts the little bell in his hand. It’s a hand bell, the wood grip worn and cracked. You wonder where Soonyoung got it from, having half a mind to ask him when the first clear ring of the bell disrupts your thoughts. 

The note sings through the air, your blood turning to ice in your veins. It feels like your pulse is throbbing in your neck as Vernon rings the bell hard a second time, the sound chasing the echo of the first. The third ring feels like a tremor in the air, warbling as Vernon quickly sets the bell on the floor, careful not to extinguish his candle flame. 

You hold your breath when he sets his hand on the doorknob. No one makes a sound as he twists it open. He pulls on the door and it comes away with a silent swing. The darkness on the other side is gaping, like there’s no back to the closet, just a wide hole of nothing. 

Vernon doesn’t seem to mind. He steps over the line of salt carefully until he’s in the middle of the closet, pivoting to face you. The orange flicker of his candle casts a haunting glow over his skull face. You swallow down a brief moment of fear before he winks and leans forward to pull the door shut.

For a long moment, there’s nothing. You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the thudthudthud so loud you swear everyone else in the room can hear it. No one moves, everyone fixated on the door. The silence is so piercing that your ears start to ring, the sound of the party completely unreachable over your mounting anxiety. 

“Well?” Soonyoung whispers somewhere behind you. “I guess it didn’t work.” 

Vernon begins pounding on the door. Someone screams behind you followed by a bunch of curses. You leap forward, heart in your throat as Vernon screams something unintelligible on the other side. You drop your candle, completely throwing caution to the wind as you grab the doorknob and twist. 

It doesn’t move.

“Vernon?” you ask, voice spiking with fear. “Let go of the doorknob, let me turn it. Vernon!”

The pounding doesn’t stop. He is screaming in a way you’ve never heard before, his fists rattling the door against the frame. You shriek his name back, yanking at the door frantically, your panic mounting as he screams and- 

When the door opens, you nearly fall backward with the force of it, stumbling over your feet. Soonyoung steadies you, to your surprise. You hadn’t realized he had left his corner of the room to help, his hand warm and firm. 

Vernon stands on the other side of the door, mouth pressed in a firm line. 

“You fucking asshole,” Soonyoung swears, throwing his unlit candle at Vernon. Vernon laughs, dodging it. “You fucking suck.”

“Yeah, well don’t ask me to do stupid shit.” Vernon steps out of the closet, eyes dropping to you. His mirth is edged with something sharp, a glint in his eyes that is wholly unfamiliar. “I was kidding.”

“You fucking asshole!” You screech at him, slamming your hands into his chest and knocking him back a little. He smirks and says nothing, letting you hit him a few times. “Why would you do that to me? What is wrong with you?” 

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you sound really fucking sorry.” Anger sours your mouth. Turns your words to poison. Your throat tightens up and you feel the telltale sign of tears, equal parts livid, embarrassed and offended that Vernon would do such a thing. “Fuck you, Vernon.”

Someone laughs awkwardly as you storm off. Vernon calls your name but you ignore him, bolting down the hall and down the stairs. The wood creaks uncertainty under your feet but you don’t care. You want to be anywhere but here, the hot lick of embarrassment burning your heels as you go. 

You blow past Chan on your way out, his bleary eyes following you. “Nooo,” he whines. “Hot goth, come back to me!”

“Shut up, Chan!” You scream, slamming down the steps as you go.

People nearly dive out of your way, swiveling to watch the wake of your wrath as you leave the party. You ignore them, not wanting anyone to see the hot tears that spill over as you hit the dirt road, boots crunching. 

It’s hard to tell what’s worse. The fact that Vernon had played a joke on you he knew you wouldn’t like, or the way you had panicked and lost all resolve to be the one in charge. Both feel awful, but the sting of Vernon’s joke is the sharper of the two, cutting you to the quick.

Vernon has never dared to do something like that in your entire friendship. You have no idea why he did it now. Was it because he had an audience? Was he drunk? Was he actually like the members of his fraternity he associated with? 

You had no idea, which only made things worse. Above anyone else, you thought you knew Vernon best. But perhaps, you didn’t know Vernon at all, which was far worse than any sort of haunted spirit you could imagine. 

-

The next morning, you don’t hear from Vernon. It makes your blood boil, a nasty feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as you put your phone on Do Not Disturb. You put on a big set of headphones, blaring music to keep you sane as you set about cleaning your apartment furiously. 

It’s an okay distraction. The lull of clinical cleaning is nice and the music soothes the sting that nips at your heels like an incessant hound. When you run out of things to clean, though, you’re forced to face the fact that it’s nearly evening and Vernon still hasn’t said anything to you.

You don’t want to text him first. Your pride is wounded from the night before and you’re shocked he hasn’t apologized - he should apologize. The silence only makes you angrier, and with nothing left to clean in your apartment, you decide to think of all the things you’re going to say to him when he does finally reach out to you. Because you’re not saying anything first. 

Vernon’s radio silence makes it nearly impossible to sleep. You toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable, checking your phone and social media. It’s difficult to remember the last time you went over twenty four hours without hearing from Vernon, and the realization forms a pit in your stomach.

Maybe the silence was good. Maybe you were too reliant on his friendship, the one constant that you had grown far too fond of. Maybe he was into that girl last night, making a show of you because he wanted to make her laugh or maybe he was just putting you in your place.

The insecurity wars with your logic that Vernon wouldn’t do that. He’s never had a history of that kind of behavior before, and though he might tease you on occasion, you have never been the butt of his jokes or the target of his humor. 

Jokes like that aren’t even Vernon’s style. He doesn’t like cruelty, and that’s what pretending to be screaming for help was. It was cruel, and strange and it hurt. 

What hurts more is the silence continuing into a second day. By the late afternoon, though, the hurt has morphed into something else. You sit on your couch, staring at the phone on your coffee table. Your pride was begging you not to text him, but your worry was starting to chip away at you. 

Heaving a sigh, you pick up the phone. The tap of your nails against the glass screen is loud in your quiet apartment, the final rays of sun melting through the blinds while a candle burns on the counter. 

[You 5:14 PM]: So are we not talking? 

Setting the phone down, you immediately start making dinner. It doesn’t matter that you’re too early. You’re nervous waiting for his text back, which makes you feel ridiculous. Then you feel ridiculous for feeling ridiculous, validating yourself that it is totally okay to have feelings and be nervous.

“God,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m exhausting.” 

By the time you’ve had dinner and watched a full episode of Alice in Borderland, Vernon has said nothing. Worry eats away at the lining of your stomach. You pause the show and pick up the phone again, dialing his number.

On the other side of the line, the phone rings. And rings. And rings. 

You hang up when you get the automated voicemail, frowning. It’s all strange, and a nagging feeling tugs at your nervous system but you can’t put your finger on it.

Just as you set the dishes in the sink, your phone starts to ping. You’re grateful no one can see you in your apartment as you lurch to the phone, picking it up and unlocking it to see if it’s Vernon. It isn’t, but your heart starts to thud when your group chats with other friends and classmates in projects flood with the same rumor over and over.

A dead body had been found on campus. 

Vernon doesn’t live on campus, but it doesn’t stop you from calling him again. And again. And again. When the voicemail turns on a fourth time, you seethe into the phone, fingers gripping it so hard it feels like it’ll break. “Call me back you fucking asshole! Someone died on campus and you’re not answering and I just need to know it’s not you. Fuck!” 

Time passes and you get so desperate you do the one thing you didn’t want to do unless it was dire circumstances. You hit dial and bring your phone up to your ear, pinching the bridge of your nose to prepare yourself for when Mingyu answers the phone. 

“Am I dreaming?” he says by way of greeting. “It was the life guard costume, right?” 

“Mingyu, it wasn’t a costume. You were shirtless with board shorts.” 

“But it worked, right?”

“Have you heard from Vernon?” 

“Nah, why?” 

“Like you haven’t seen him at all since the party?” 

“Mmm. I don’t think so.” There’s a muffled sound on the phone like he’s trying to cover it when he yells, “Chan, have you seen that fuck head Vernon?” You wait impatiently, holding the phone further from your ear as Minguy yells. “Chan hasn’t seen him either.” 

“Isn’t that weird? I haven’t been able to get a hold of him.”

“Nah, I mean we never really see him. Usually he’s with you.”

“Right. And he isn’t with me, I haven’t seen him since the party.” 

“Well have you checked his apartment?” You hesitate. “Helloooo?”

“No.”

“Well. Do that. He’s probably sleeping or some shit, who knows.” 

“Great. You were so helpful,” you deadpan.

Mingyu sounds genuinely happy when he says, “I’m so glad!”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything else. 

Chewing your nail, you stare at the wall, mind racing.  Mingyu has a point that it’s normal for them to never see Vernon. He is usually with you, or he’s solitary. There is little in between. He also has a point that most of the time if you were looking for Vernon, you’d just swing by his apartment. 

The thought of seeing him again makes you want to curl in on yourself, but your concern weighs out. You get dressed and grab your keys, trying not to let your fear of what you might find there keep you from leaving. 

Opening the door to your apartment, you get one foot out the door and then slam directly into Vernon. You reel backward, eyebrows shooting up as he steadies you by the elbow, equally surprised to see you as though he wasn’t at your doorstep. 

“Easy there,” he greets, a half smile on his face.

Vernon looks totally normal. He definitely doesn’t look like he was murdered, and he’s dressed in his usual jeans, plain black shirt, and a backwards hat. For a second, you just stare at him, totally shocked and utterly relieved he isn’t dead.

Then, the anger comes. 

You slam a hand into his chest, cursing at him. “Where?” Slap. “Have?” Slap. “You?” Slap. “Been?” 

He takes the blows in stride. His chest is firm beneath your palm, heart beating steadily. Alive. And now that you’ve established he’s not dead, you feel so much anger ripple through you that you don’t let him answer before you’re pivoting on your foot and storming back into your apartment.

The sound of the door closing behind you followed by his shuffling as he takes his shoes off tells you he hasn’t left. A small part of you curls in satisfaction with the domesticity of his arrival, but it is blotted out by the hurt and rage at the surface of your emotions.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand. It isn’t as eloquent as your practiced rant, but it’s something. “You better explain yourself. And quickly.”

Vernon’s dark eyes connect with yours, simmering. You feel your heart lurch as he slinks over to the kitchen, never taking his gaze off you. The back of your neck tingles. Vernon never keeps this much eye contact and it’s both thrilling and unnerving. 

“I want to apologize,” he murmurs, pitching his voice low. You watch with trepidation as he reaches out to gather your hand in his. He folds your fingers under his, pulling your hand to his chest. Your breath quickens, pulse throbbing as he cradles your fist to his chest, his heartbeat steady. “I fucked up. I wanted to fuck with Soonyoung but I did it at the expense of you, and for that I’m deeply sorry.”

Warmth spreads from his hand to yours. You don’t know what to make of the apology - it’s so unlike him. Vernon has no problem apologizing when he’s wrong, but he’s usually not so confident, so well spoken. You stare and stare, that pitless gaze of his pinned on you. 

“I just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You really hurt my feelings, Vernon.” His hands tighten around yours and he tugs a little, pulling you closer. It’s harder to think when you’re this close, fingers wrapped in his. “You really scared me and then you vanished for nearly three days. Why did you do that?” 

“I wasn’t feeling well and I slept most of the days away. Honestly.”

“You weren’t feeling well?”

He gives you a look. “I see the skepticism. I’m serious, I just… wasn’t myself. I tried to rest and I didn’t hear my phone and I’m sorry. Really.”

Vernon’s apology settles around you like a weight. You watch him, contemplating what to do next. He doesn’t look ill, his gold skin as flawless as ever, his rosy lips tucked under his teeth as he watches you, waiting. His heart thuds under your palm, his thumb absently brushing back and forth over the top of your hand.

Breathing becomes difficult. Vernon isn’t overly affectionate, but the way he presses your hand to his chest now sends you down a dangerous path. The desire for him bubbles just below your surface and you’re terrified it’ll boil over, exposing everything you’ve ever thought about him.

“Alright,” you say softly, pulling your hand from his. He lets you. “Don’t ever do something like that to me again. It was scary and I felt stupid. And I thought you were dead.”

“Why?” 

Gesturing to the couch, the two of you plop down, seemingly back to normal. You’re still a little off kilter, but you report back to Vernon what your classmates had been saying. He grabs your remote and turns on the news, settling close enough to you that your thighs brush against one another. You shoot him a questioning look but he’s fixated on the TV, leaning forward to press his elbows into his knees.

The reporter on the news confirms the body of one of your fellow students had indeed been found on campus. Names and details were not yet available, but they were interviewing students about whether or not they felt safe on campus. By the second interview, Vernon was turning off the TV and leaning back.

“Freaky,” you murmur, tapping the arm of the couch. “Weird timing, right?”

“How so?”

“We just had a Halloween party in a weird murder house.”

Vernon goes silent. You turn to look at him, eyes searching. He stares at you, again the eye contact unsettling. Even though it feels like your Vernon sitting next to you, there is an edge to him that’s new. You don’t know what to do with it, shifting in your seat a little.

“Forget the murder house,” he says eventually, flicking his fingers in dismissal. “That party sucked and I’d rather forget it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, eyeing him as he looks out the window. You swear he’s agitated, but you can’t pinpoint why. “Me too.”

-

Someone sitting down roughly next to you draws your attention away from your essay, barely audibly over the sound of Current Blue playing through your headphones. You raise a brow as Vernon slings his belongings on the table unceremoniously, uncaring how loud he is in the library.

You glance around, seeing that he’s attracted the attention of a few people at nearby tables, some scowling, others blushing. When you turn your gaze back to him, you see his mouth moving as he divests his bag of its contents, but you can’t hear him. 

Pulling your headphones from your head, you ask, “What?” 

“Can you help me with my organic chem assignment?” 

“I hate chemistry.” 

His mouth twitches as he opens his laptop. “Right, but you’re good at it. You’re the smartest person in school.”

Again, something nags at your instincts. You can’t pinpoint it, examining Vernon more closely. He looks totally normal, dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, and a jean jacket pulled over it. He’s without a hat today, his hair falling in messy strands over his brow as he sets up his area to study.

Sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “What?” 

“You seem different.”

“Different how?” He types on his computer to start bringing up his chemistry homework. “Different as in going to fail organic chem without your help?” 

“Oh shut up. I’m obviously going to help you.” 

His mouth is wicked when he grins. “Good.” 

When Vernon looks up at you, the world stops a little. His gaze today is fathomless, dark eyes smooth like the surface of a lake with no end. You tip into that gaze, letting yourself drown in it for a moment. Normally, Vernon would break eye contact by now, easily distracted or unrealizing that he’s got you stuck on him. 

Now, he doesn’t do that. He looks right back at you. Heat crawls up your neck and your breaths quicken. For the first time since you’ve known him, Vernon looks at you like he knows everything inside your locked-tight heart. 

You lick your lips and his gaze dips to your mouth. Inside your chest, your hummingbird heart hammers, threatening to break free. The corner of Vernon’s mouth tilts upward as his eyes meet yours again, and you watch, completely frozen, as he leans toward you. 

Vernon is so close you can smell the spicy cologne on his skin. It’s heady and makes you dizzy, and you watch, totally lost as he wraps his hand around the leg of your chair and tugs hard. You yelp, startling a few people around you as he yanks your chair next to his, your thighs pressed together. 

“What are you doing?” you whisper harshly at him, throwing an apologetic look at the people you’ve disturbed for a second time. 

“How are you going to help me from over there?”

“You could have asked me to move my chair.” 

The problem isn’t that he moved your chair. Not really. The problem is how close he is, leg pressed against yours and elbows touching as he shrugs and turns his computer screen toward you. The problem is how at ease he is with you nearly on top of him, his lazy smile making your thoughts tangle and your breath quicken. 

This Vernon is still the one you’re used to but there’s something about him that keeps you on edge. Keeps you looking at him when his hand brushes against yours to grab a pen, or when he leans back and puts his arm across the back of your chair, idly playing with the hood of your jacket.

It’s almost like he’s flirting, and you spend half the time stumbling through his homework, barely able to assist him in a meaningful way because you’re busy decoding the subtle touches and the light teasing. You feel yourself blush more and look the other way to collect yourself more in the hour you help him than you have your entire friendship, unsure what’s happening or how to handle it. 

Homework completed, Vernon stares off into the distance, his finger twisting in the string of your hoodie absently as you try to write the rest of your paper. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate like this, the intimacy more than you’re used to. 

“You’re very distracting today,” you comment as you reference a text to the right of your screen. “Are you aware of that?” 

He hums. “This is hardly a distraction. I could try harder, though.”

You cut a glance at him. He seems utterly serious, any sort of mirth nonexistent in his expression. There’s just that shadowed gaze, that spark of something right where you can’t reach it. You abruptly stand, surprising him as you knock his arm away from you and clear your throat. 

“I need a different text. It’s downstairs, though.” 

“I’ll come with you.” You raise your brows and he shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” 

“Sure.” 

Without another word, you pivot on your heel and nearly run for the far set of stairs that lead to the subterranean level of the library where all the old texts and books exist. Vernon follows you at a casual pace, still totally at ease despite the fact that you’re obviously unraveling.

You have no idea what his sudden interest in you is and it’s making you unspool, thoughts wild and racing as you reach the stairwell that leads down. 

Damp air greets you as you start down the steps and it smells like wet carpet. You cringe, hating every time you have to come here. It’s always poorly lit and damp, not at all what one would expect from a library trying to keep books from molding. But no one really comes down here anyway, only the history majors and people like you, who require weird books long retired from the main shelves.

It’s eerie in the old stacks. There are lamps above head casting a burnt orange glow over the green, shag carpet but otherwise it’s nearly impossible to see in the shadowy parts of the room. You certainly could never read a book down here. 

Vernon is silent behind you but you can feel him, his gaze burning into your back as you navigate toward the last set of rows. As you approach, you hear a sound, stopping you dead in your tracks. Vernon crashes into you, nearly knocking you over but his hands grab you, steadying you and holding you close to his chest. 

For the first time today, you’re able to ignore his nearness in favor of straining your ears for the sound you heard, a small whimper, perhaps. You hear it again, distinctly human. Your heart starts to pound as you remember that just the day before there was a body found on campus, mind racing with thoughts as you stand rooted to the spot, Vernon pressed against you.

Craning your head, you look up at him. His expression is unreadable as he looks at you through long lashes, face shadowed. There’s a soft bang, like someone knocking something over. He looks over your head and back at you, shrugging his shoulder as if to say your choice. 

Slowly, you move forward. Vernon keeps close, his heat radiating behind you like a furnace as you creep through the last few rows of shelving. As you near the third one, you stop and peer around the corner, eyes trying to adjust in the shitty lighting. 

What you see has you snapping back around the stack, mouth dropping open. Vernon, curious, leans around you to peer around the stack. He raises his brows and steps backward, mouth pressed in a firm line to conceal his laugh. 

In the next row over is a girl you vaguely recognize, naked from the waist down while someone who is very much not her boyfriend, pumps their fingers between her legs. Slapping Vernon’s chest you point toward the door, silently screaming at him to turn around and hightail it out of there. 

Vernon, for a second, bites his lower lip and wags his eyebrows at you, suggestive. You glare and shove his chest. He goes easily, grinning at you playfully as he turns on his heel and heads back up to the main floor. 

When you reach your table, you drop down in the chair, totally shocked. Vernon drops down next to you, laughing. “Listen, when the urge hits, I guess.”

“I guess,” you agree sharply, shaking your head. “That was not her boyfriend, though.”

“No shit?” 

“Yeah. She’s dating some dude in Sigma whatever.” 

Vernon’s gaze turns sharp and his eyes trail back toward the far side of the library, resting on the stairs. “Interesting.” 

“Not really. That seems to happen a lot among you Greek lifers.” 

“I would never do that.” The severity of his declaration has you looking up from your notebook. Vernon’s expression is cutting, his jaw flexing. “I would never participate in infidelity. Ever.” 

“I didn’t mean you, Vernon.” 

“I’m not like that.” 

You soften a little, guilt tugging at you. So often you remember that Vernon isn’t like a lot of the people around him and grouping him in is unfair and insensitive. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He nods once, turning from you to pack up his stuff. Somehow, you can’t help but feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. 

-

“Oh shit,” Vernon mutters. You look up from where you’re flipping a grilled cheese in the pan. He holds his phone out to you from where he leans against his kitchen counter. “They found another body. Same MO or whatever as the first.” 

“No way?” 

Putting down the spatula, you grab his phone from him where he has the article pulled up. Sure enough, there’s been another murder on campus. Your eyes drink in the details, similar as before: student victim, stab wounds, message written on the wall. 

“What is the Hello Darling Murder?” you ask, more to yourself than Vernon. “It’s linked here as a reference to these being copycat murders.” He says nothing. You read out loud, “The Hello Darling Murder is a case of a murder suicide that happened in the same town in 1979. It was the town’s first violent domestic crime in years, and drew national media attention for the gruesome crime scene in which a message had been written on the wall in blood.” 

Vernon makes an amused sound. You look up at him sharply, staring. He has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor with a mildly bemused expression. You kick him and he looks up at you. “What?”

“Why are you laughing? That’s not funny.”

“The way people sensationalize murder is weird.” 

“I mean, I agree. But what is funny?”

“It’s not funny as in funny ha ha,” he clarifies. “It’s funny stupid. The media is going to sensationalize this and turn it into an entire thing.” 

“Yeah, well. That’s their job.” 

Off put by his dark mirth, you turn back to the article, reading further. You skip over the old murder, more interested in the details of the two new ones. Your heart seizes in your chest when you see the name and picture of the second victim, stomach roiling. 

He sees your expression, pushing off the counter toward you, hands shooting your arms. “What? What’s wrong?” 

In any other scenario, you’d be overwhelmed by the sudden care and affection. Now, you just turn the phone toward him, showing him the photo. “It’s that girl from the library. Her name was Sidney. She’s the one I told you was cheating on her boyfriend.” 

Nothing registers in his face when he looks at the phone, his hands still resting on your arms lightly. He looks away from the screen and at you instead, a sharpness to his gaze that’s there so often you’re starting to grow used to it.

“You’re burning the grilled cheese, Lovecraft.” 

-

Mosquitos nip at your skin as you walk down the narrow path between trees. You slap your hand against your neck again, muttering under your breath. Vernon chuckles next to you, keeping his pace even as you struggle to step over a fallen tree branch. 

You hate the woods at night. It’s not your first time going to a bonfire deep in the woods off campus, but you don’t know why you keep coming back. Tripping over another branch, Vernon catches you by the arm and steadies you, stopping to make sure you’re okay before he lets go.

Scratch that. You do know why you keep coming back. For as long as you’ve been friends, you’ve been Vernon’s permanent plus one to all of his parties, formals and events, even if both of you hate going. It’s become a weird obligation to show up at things like this as a pair. 

They aren’t always terrible, you have to admit. When Mingyu isn’t absolutely hammered, he’s mostly tolerable to be around. Soonyoung isn’t bad either, though you’re still pissed off at him for the Halloween party incident, unwilling to talk to him. 

But nights like this where you have to trek out into the middle of the woods using your phone’s flashlight to navigate, you sort of loathe your unspoken oath to attend with Vernon. 

Instead of focusing on the distaste and the inherent anxiety the shadows of the trees give you, you let Vernon help you slide down a ditch and climb up the other side. His fingers are firm on your wrist, not quite holding your hand but keeping you connected. 

Your skin is warm and tingles when he lets go, deeming it safe enough to let you walk yourself. It’s easier to see now, too, the orange light of the massive bonfire casting a circle of orange glow that only grows as you near the party. 

Party is perhaps too strong of a word for it. There can’t be more than twenty people in the small clearing surrounding the roaring fire the Soonyoung tends to, foldable chairs and coolers arranged in a circle. Chan is trying to roast a marshmallow and failing, the white snack immediately catching fire and singing in the heat of the fire. 

Mingyu whistles when he sees you, catching your attention to wave you over to a pair of seats by him and Chan. You make your way there, navigating through groups of people clutching plastic cups and stepping over various sizes of coolers. 

The heat from Soonyoung’s inferno is nearly unbearable, making you cringe back as he adds something that cracks and pops, sending bits of orange ash floating toward the sky. 

“Jesus Christ, Soonyoung!” Seungcheol complains from his seat where a girl sits on his knee. “Enough, it’s fucking hot!” 

“Sorry,” Soonyoung answers, sheepish. 

Backing your chair away from the fire a little, you sit down and curl into the folding chair, accepting the drink Vernon hands you before moving his chair closer to yours and sitting down. A shiver ripples through you at the cool can in your hands. You crack the top and take a sip, trying to cool down from the blast of heat you’d taken while passing the fire.

Mingyu turns to you and Vernon as Chan pops a burned marshmallow in his mouth, the two of them immediately launching into discussions of the murders. You shift uncomfortably in your chair, listening as they recount the details in the news mixed with the rumors on campus. 

So far, two bodies have been discovered and linked together. The authorities don’t want to call it a serial killer, attempting to avoid a media craze and inspiring the killer to go on a spree, but denying the murders are connected is impossible.

You’re unsure what the victims have in common. The first had been a male senior who was in the business track, discovered by the dorms near the lake on campus. The second had been the girl you’d seen in the library in her apartment off campus, and Sidney had been in the education track and a junior. 

Neither of them were friends. You don’t go to a large university, but there are enough students that it’s normal to have a ton of people that you don’t know. From what anyone can tell, there was nothing the two victims had in common.

Except that they’d been murdered by someone who had left a bloody Hello Darling written at the crime scene.

A chill sweeps over you as Mingyu mentions the Hello Darling Murderer. It was the same story as before - a man had murdered his girlfriend in the 70s, a shocking and violent domestic crime that had unsettled the citizens and local university. He’d promptly killed himself after that, leaving only a bloody Hello Darling on the walls.

Authorities didn’t even know who the blood had belonged to - it took them so long to realize the couple was missing before they did a wellness check that by the time they investigated, they’d been dead a week. 

Vernon snorts at that and mutters something about the ineptitude of law enforcement. You cut your eyes at him. Though you agree, Vernon is usually the last person to make degrading comments - or comment at all really. 

Not for the first time in the last two weeks, you can’t help but sense that honed edge to him he has now. You’ve attributed it to him moving with more confidence, talking to people directly and making actual eye contact. You don’t know where the sudden swell in self-conviction has come from, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t look good on him.

Still, it’s got you a little uneasy, trying to adjust to this version of him. 

The topic shifts to football and you find yourself tuning everyone out, sipping your cider and staring at the fire as it warms your feet. More people arrive and drag chairs up. Someone hauls a few kegs into the firelight, cheers going around the fire.

Vernon stands and holds his hand up for your empty can. You give it to him wordlessly and he heads to get you a refresh, tossing the trash into one of the trash bins.

Turning to Mingyu as he goes, you ask quietly, “Has he seemed different to you lately?” 

“Who?”

“Steve Jobs,” you deadpan. “Vernon, obviously.”

“I don’t think so? He’s around a lot more lately and actually talks to us.” Mingyu pauses, thinking as he cocks his head to the side. “I mean, I guess that is kind of weird for him. He also actually goes to places with us now.” 

“Exactly what I mean.”

“Hey! We are friends, you know?” 

You hum uncertainty, your attention trailing back to Vernon. You observe him, noticing all the little details that are different. He stands a little bit straighter, inserts himself in conversations where he didn’t before.

Now, he stands near the keg, nodding along to something the girl next to him is saying. They’re standing close - you realize it’s the same girl from the Halloween party that had been talking to him, except this time, he’s talking back. 

Vernon leans in close to her and says something, making her laugh. He bites his lower lip a little, watching her with half-lidded eyes. Your stomach turns a little, eyes glued as he brushes her arm when he reaches for the cup that Joshua hands him. 

Turning away from them, you tune yourself into Chan’s conversation, needing a distraction. You try not to count the minutes until Vernon returns. When he does, the girl is with him. He drags a chair over so she can sit on the other side of him. 

It’s close, their knees touching when he sits and hands her the drink he was holding for her. He turns and holds out your drink to you, which sloshes a little when you snatch the cup from his hand. He arches his brows but you say nothing, taking a large gulp and turning your back on him to ask Chan about football instead. 

“You watch football?” Chan asks cryptically. 

“Sure. Go Green Bay Ravens.” 

He stares. “Packers. Green Bay Packers.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing with you. In fact, if you want to tell me what’s what more often-”

You scoff. “Shut up, Chan!”

Stuck between Vernon flirting with the girl next to him and Chan and Mingyu being - Chan and Mingyu - sours your mood. You try to lose yourself in your cup, going mute as you stare at the fire. Vernon hardly notices the shift in your mood, leaning in to the girl as they chat. 

You can’t help but notice everything about them. It’s impossible not to see the way she leans into him, bumping shoulders when she laughs. He lets her, watching her with a gaze you can only describe as hungry. The grip on your cup tightens as he knocks their knees together when he shifts in his chair, leaving it pressed against hers. 

It reminds you of the way he’d behaved in the library with you, brushing against you on purpose, making his words come out in a playful pur instead of what you’re used to, and seeing him do it with her now makes you snap. 

You stand abruptly, drawing the attention of Chan and Mingyu but not who you want. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Need company?” Chan offers. It seems genuine, but you give him a sharp no before you’re walking away, sticks snapping underneath your boots as you go. 

Chill air licks your face as you get further from the fire. There are plenty of people dispersed throughout the general area, some people pulled far away for intimate conversations, others pulled away to pass a joint in a circle, the pungent smell chasing you as you pass them. 

Away from the smoke and the noise, you feel like you can breathe a little more. You find a fallen tree, thick enough to sit on. You test your weight on it first before deciding it’s safe, swinging your leg to straddle it and look off into the dark trees.

There’s just enough light from the silver moon above your head and from the distant fire to feel safe. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you hug yourself and close your eyes, breathing in deep. The fire smoke isn’t strong here, the air clean and crisp.

Opening your eyes, you look at the sky. This far out in the country, you can see the stars. Out of habit, you start mapping out all the constellations you know, eyes tracing Orion the Hunter. You skip over to Andromeda, counting each star before moving to the east to spot Cassiopeia. 

It reminds you of the time you taught Vernon all the different constellations. He’d been a silent and attentive listener, watching as you’d pointed them all out while sitting on a bench at the park. You’ve caught him drawing them more than once in his chemistry notebooks, little dots of perfect constellations memorized. 

An ache you’re familiar with fills your chest. It’s the same ache you had when you realized you had feelings for him but didn’t want to tell him. The same ache you had when he’d hurt your feelings on Halloween. The same ache as when you’d seen him actually look back at someone who's interested in him, for once. 

Crying seems silly, but suddenly you have the urge to, throat twisting as you stare at the sky and try to puzzle out the direction your friendship has gone since that night. As you sit on the tree, a prickling sense of awareness creeps up your spine, tugging at you. 

Looking around, you see nothing. You can generally see in a good circumference, but the sudden instinct that something or someone is watching you drives you to get off the branch, hitting the ground with both feet to stride back toward the fire. 

As you go, your foot gets stuck in a tangle of tree roots again, making you stumble. You curse, bending down through squinted eyes to untangle your foot. Your fingers are a little cold and shaking, anxiety creeping up slowly as you pull the weeds and roots away from your shoe. 

Something snaps behind you. Your fingers freeze, head whipping around to look for the source of the noise. Again, you see nothing but your heart is hammering. You don’t dare to breathe, holding your breath as you strain your ears to hear anything else. There’s only crickets and an owl in the distance, no more snapping branches.

In that moment, it occurs to you that you’ve decided to wander out in the woods at night and alone after two recent murders. The stupidity of your actions land like a blow.

Turning back around, you wrench your shoe free and stand up, nearly colliding with Vernon who leans backward to avoid smacking into you as you shriek in surprise, stepping backward. Vernon’s hand darts out to grab you, catching you and tugging you forward into him before you can lose your balance fully.

Heart hammering, your fingers dig into his biceps, keeping yourself standing as you hiss, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing? You’re wandering out in the middle of the woods while there is an active serial killer in town.” 

“Oh please, like you noticed.”

He frowns. You drop your hands and try to step away from him, eager to put some distance between you. Vernon’s grip on you tightens though, keeping you where you’re standing. “I’m here, I obviously noticed.” You snort derisively and his grip tightens a little. “Is there something you want to say?”

You open and close your mouth, scowling at him. He’s never so direct you’re unsure how to approach the question. So you try for a little bit of honesty. “I wasn’t having fun.” 

“Okay, so let’s leave.”

“You look like you were having fun.” 

Silence hangs in the air. Vernon’s face is indecipherable. Then, “Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your response is so fast that it even sounds practiced and hollow to you. It’s hard not to wince, hoping that as always, he doesn’t see through your cellophane defense. Vernon’s touch drops from your biceps to your wrist, delicate. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, instead staring at the buttons on his jean jacket. 

“I noticed you were gone.” His voice is gentle, a low purr. You dart a quick glance at him to see the intensity of his gaze. It makes you squirm, unsure how to respond. “I always notice when you’re gone.”

“Alright. Well.” 

“I notice everything about you.” 

The way he says it is a soft whisper. A promise, a suggestion. Again, it feels like Vernon has discovered your loose thread, tugging lightly on it. If he tugs again, you think you might unspool all the way, showing him everything you don’t want him to see. 

It feels like he wants to, and that’s what scares you more. That suddenly he’s looking at you like he wants to see past the veneer of your words, like he’s ready to look inside. You hear the double meaning. It’s so terrifying that you look away from him, ready to hide. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper. 

“I’m not. If you’re not having fun, let’s go home. I came here with you.” He tugs your wrist. “Come on. You can’t be walking around out here alone with a killer on the loose, Lovecraft. I’ll be forced to fight them off.” 

The tension fades. You let out a breath and laugh, looking at him skeptically. “Yeah? You’re going to fight for me?” 

His grip on your wrist tightens. You wonder if he can feel the speed of your pulse under his thumb, the way it hammers when he smirks. “Yeah, I am.” 

-

Sal’s Pizzeria isn’t your favorite place to do school work. It’s too loud and bright, the promise of food is way too distracting for you to focus for much longer than a few minutes at a time, and usually your fingers are too slippery with pizza grease to type properly. 

You only have a narrow window to finish writing your paper before going to the bar for Jihoon’s birthday. You barely know him, but he’s someone Vernon is decently close enough too that you feel obligated to attend. More importantly, you’re finally almost done with your paper you’ve been working on for two weeks, eager to celebrate hitting submit. 

“You know that dude who was killed first was a rotten cheater?” 

The girls sitting behind you catch your attention. Your brows knit together and you turn your head a fraction to eavesdrop, eyes unfocusing on the words on your screen. There are four of them behind you that you don’t recognize but assume go to the same school as you, based on the attire and the backpacks. 

“Yeah! Sam told me about that. Apparently he was sleeping around with a bunch of freshmen. Maybe his girlfriend found out and went all psycho killer on him?” 

“Ew, how scummy. But what’s with the hello darling message shit? Can you say weird?” 

“I know, right?” 

Their words give you pause. The first victim had been someone known for his infidelity too? Turning back to your screen, you pull up your web browser and type in Hello Darling Murderer to the search. The original murder from the 70s hadn’t given you much thought beyond assuming someone was being a copycat, but now you feel something nagging at you. Something you’re missing. 

All of the top stories are of the recent murders. You amend your search to the 70s and get older articles and links to podcasts covering the initial incident. Clicking on a story from a reputable journal, you start reading in detail about the first murder and his victim, skin prickling as you go.

As an Occult Studies major, a lot of people think you’re into murder mysteries. In truth, you’re not. They have little to do with what you study, and you’ve spent countless times telling people that occult and people obsessed with true crime are two totally different things. You have no idea why they’re lumped together so often, but on more than one occasion you’ve had to explain you’re not interested in serial killers or their stories.

Except now. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you unwind the story of Thomas Ellswater, who had apparently murdered his girlfriend at the time before promptly killing himself. The initial investigation hadn’t dug up much, assuming that it was a case of domestic violence gone as bad as it could. 

But the journalist who had written the story had other details. Accounts from family friends that detailed Elsswater’s girlfriend, Maya, unhappy with their relationship. One even insinuated that she had been cheating on him for a long time, though with who, they were unsure. 

Further down in the article, you stop. Read the paragraph again. Look at the picture of the house. A sickly chill coats your skin as you lean forward, taking in the details of the house. You’ve seen it before, though your memory of it at night surrounded by floodlights and full of drunk college students makes it almost unrecognizable when you see it on the screen. 

Thomas Ellswater lived in the same house that you’d partied in on Halloween night, where Vernon had played that horrible prank in the closet. Thomas or Maya had been the haunting spirit Soonyoung had been attempting to summon.

And now someone was killing in the same exact style.. 

The server bringing you two trays of pizzas and a basket of fries breaks you from your trance. You close the article, a sick feeling in your stomach as you try to piece together the puzzle. Was it just a spurned lover who was paying homage to someone who related? Or was it a serial killer poking fun at the MO?

Vernon crashing into the seat across from you startles you. He gives you a grin, eyeing the pizza in front of him and rubbing his hands together. Rolling your eyes, you grab the red pepper flakes and salt, passing the latter over to him. 

“So I learned something weird today,” you venture, pulling a slice of pizza from the tray. 

“Tell me,” he answers over a mouthful of pizza, once again burning himself. You roll your eyes, shaking your red pepper onto your slice. “What is going on in the world of occult today?”

“Actually, not occult.” He gives you an appraising look, popping some fries into his mouth. “What, no salt today?”

He pauses, looking at the basket of fries. “Nah, I need to cut back on the sodium.”

“Good idea. Anyway, it’s about the murders.” 

“Do tell.”

“The girls behind me said the first victim was known for cheating.” 

“It’s college. Apparently there is a lot of that.” 

“But remember that day we saw Sidney in the library? She was cheating too.” 

“Right.” He rips into his pizza, gaze sharp as he looks at you. “So this town is full of a bunch of lowlife fucking cheaters.”

You flinch at his vehemence, leaning back in your seat. Vernon drops his gaze, tearing into his slice in silence. “Sorry,” he says after swallowing. “I’m hungry.”

“Right. As I was saying, I looked up that Hello Darling Murder.” 

He pauses, gaze flicking to you. “And?”

“And it was ruled as a case of domestic violence gone wrong, but there were some people who think the Maya Caravalo was cheating on Thomas Ellswater, who killed her.” 

“I’m sure cheating is the leading cause of crimes of passion.”

“In the house that we were in on Halloween.” 

Vernon frowns. “Ah. Weird.” 

He doesn’t elaborate. You watch him as he chews on more pizza, shoving fries into his mouth on occasion too. He seems totally at ease - and more normal than he’s been in weeks. You watch, mildly disgusted at the way college men eat. 

“That’s all you have to say?” You ask. “Weird.”

“It is weird.” 

“Kind of an insane coincidence.” 

He becomes still, only his eyes moving as he settles his inky gaze on you. For a second, you can’t help but think he looks a bit like the cat who ate the canary, eyes glittering. “So tell me what theory is in that pretty head of yours, Lovecraft.” 

Ignoring the way your heart leaps at him calling you pretty, you sigh, picking at the wooden table with a thumb nail. “I don’t really have one. I just think someone came across the original murder and thought I could write that at my crime scenes. I don’t study criminology, I can’t figure out motivation.”

“You’re the smartest person in school, Lovecraft. Try.” 

“I guess… I don’t know. The new killer was probably cheated on recently, came across what happened in the 70s, and has been taking out their rage on other adulterers because they feel some sort of kinship with Thomas. Maybe like finishing his work or ridding the world of a common enemy.” 

Vernon hums. “Maybe so. Do you think they deserve it?” You look at him sharply, mouth downturning. “The victims. Do you think they deserve to be killed for their infidelity?” 

“I don’t know that anyone is deserving of murder.” You chew the inside of your cheek, watching Vernon’s face for any sign of what he’s thinking. He’s totally closed off, a blank canvas. “This is why I’m in Occult Studies and not law, Vernon.” 

He gives a wolfish grin. “Touche. Come on, eat your pizza. We have a bar to go get drunk at.” 

-

The bar in question is teeming with people. You’re immediately overwhelmed, squeezing your way between chairs, tables and people as you navigate to your group of friends. Vernon keeps you close, his arm encircling your waist as pulling you to him as you go. 

He either ignores or doesn’t notice the sharp look you give him. Instead, he’s focused on keeping the two of you attached, shouldering his way through the crowd, the press of his fingers on your hip dizzying and steadying at the same time. 

At the far back of the bar, an entire section of people associated with Vernon’s fraternity crowd from wall to wall. Vernon manages to get you onto a stool at the bar top, shouldering one of the pledges off the seat with a narrow-eyed look. You raise your brows at him and he winks, leaning his elbow on the bar top to order you both drinks.

Spinning to face him in the stool, you give him a quick once over. You’d been so engrossed in your murdery mystery findings at the pizzeria that you haven't really looked at him until now. He looks good, dressed simply in dark jeans and a dark, long sleeve shirt that shows how broad he is. Has he always been that broad? 

Vernon catches you staring. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” 

He grins, accepting drinks from the bartender and sliding one over to you. You burn under the full weight of his attention as he pops his straw into his mouth. “Tell me.” 

“You look nice tonight.”

“You look nice every night.”

“Oh shut up.” 

“What?” he laughs. “I mean it.” 

“Whatever.”

Spinning in the chair again, you place your back to the bar, facing the crowd to watch people. Vernon is content to stand next to you in silence, both of you sipping your drinks as you observe the people around you. Someone jostles him a little closer, his arm shifting to lay across the bartop along your back. 

Heat creeps into your cheeks and you try to remain breathing normally. Vernon leaves his arm there, pressed against you but not exactly wrapped around you. There is a distinct difference, but this is still new. Still confusing. 

People who recognize you both come up and say hi. You keep the conversation polite and short, especially when you see the girl who has lingered at the last two parties slink toward you, her eyes only for Vernon. 

“Hi,” she yells over the crowd, totally ignoring you. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m friends with Jihoon.”

The girl opens and closes her mouth, lips pursed at that. You sense the serrated edged to Vernon’s words, casting a glance his direction. He’s not looking at her, eyes instead scanning the crowd. Uninterested. Even you know she didn’t literally mean she wasn’t expecting to see him - it was just a conversation starter. 

Using the opportunity to sip from your straw to hide your laughter, you have to admit you’re a little relieved to see Vernon missing social cues again. It’s more him, a Vernon that you're used to. Maybe a little meaner than usual, but this is closer. 

“Right,” the girl says. Her eyes flicker to you for the first time. “It’s his birthday, right?” 

“According to the giant sign in the corner and all the balloons, yes.” 

Okay, maybe it’s not entirely normal Vernon. Usually he isn’t so callous. In this case, you don’t mind, watching as she tries to puzzle out how to keep the conversation going. Vernon decides for you, turning from her to press his mouth close to your ear. 

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, breath hot against you. “I’m gonna greet Jihoon really quickly.” 

All you can manage is a breathy, “Alright.” 

Vernon finishes his drink and pushes off the bar, fingers dragging against you as he goes. He ignores the girl standing and watching, her eyes darting from you to him until he vanishes in the sea of bodies. Without Vernon there, she has nothing to do. She tilts her chin up, sucking up her pride and turns on her heel to walk a direction distinctly not the same way as Vernon.

Alone at the bar, you swivel in your seat to order you both another drink. You assume Vernon is drinking a whiskey coke, hoping that’s right as you flag down the bartender. While you wait, someone slips into the spot next to you. You turn, thinking Vernon’s already back only to find someone you definitely don’t know. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the loud voices and music. “Did not mean to get in your personal space, this spot was way smaller than I thought it was.” 

“That’s okay! Getting a spot kind of sucks.”

“No kidding.” He grins at you, turning his attention back to trying to get anyone to take his drink order. “How long do you think it’ll take for them to notice me?” 

“About seven years.”

“Yikes. I’m Seokmin, by the way.” You give him your name and he grins. “What brings you to this shit hole ass bar?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday. You?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday indeed.”

A bartender finally comes over to take Seokmin’s order. He leans forward to shout over the crowd, his shoulder knocking into yours. You don’t mind - he’s nice. He looks over at you, a question on his face. “You like tequila?”

“No!”

“Let me rephrase - want a shot of tequila?” 

“She doesn’t.”

Vernon slides behind you, his palm pressed flat to your back. You startle, looking up at him in surprise. He isn’t looking at you, his eyes zeroed in on Seokmin. You slide Vernon’s drink toward him, eager to dispel the sudden tension thrumming through him.

“Whiskey and coke?”

He looks down, eyes rounding out a little as he softens. “Mhmm. Thank you.”

Drink in hand, Seokmin turns to you both and waves. “Y’all have a good night!”

When he’s gone, Vernon leans against the counter again, his tone flat as he says, “He was nice.”

“He was, but what do you sound bothered by ?”

“Maybe I am.” 

“Why?” 

He lifts a shoulder. Instead of answering you, he picks up the lime in his drink and squeezes it, stirring it with his straw before taking a long pull straight from the rim of the glass. 

You nudge him. “I’m going to say this again: you’ve been different, lately.” 

“Different how.” 

“I don’t know. You talk more. You’re a lot more engaging. You’re a little…” 

“A little what?”

“Cockier?” He hims, eyes dropping down to your mouth. “Like that,” you point out, voice a little weaker. “You do that now, and you didn’t used to.”

“I always did. I’m just a little more obvious about it now.”

Tension crackles between the two of you. Your mouth feels dry as you watch him, reading the minute expressions of his face. Finally, when you can’t unpuzzle him, you say, “I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell if you’re coming onto me or if it’s some sort of game to you.” That makes him frown as he sips his drink again. Your fear and frustration clash, wrestling for dominance. “It makes things confusing.”

“Why didn’t you say so? I’m happy to clear things up.” 

You grip your glass, trying to keep your fingers from quaking. This moment feels like it’s all or nothing. Vernon puts it out on the table so easily, leaving the option to you. Either you can ask for clarity, or keep playing this new game of cat and mouse. But you have to decide. 

“I would appreciate it if you did,” you say eventually. 

Vernon nods and finishes the rest of the drink. He sets the glass down before he leans forward, hand going to the underside of your chin to lightly tip your face upward with his knuckle so he can press the world’s most gentle kiss to your mouth. 

You freeze. When he doesn’t pull away, lips soft and warm, you sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. He feels you relax, mouth curling in a smile against yours. He steps into your space without breaking the kiss, finding the space between your legs as his lips press firmer to yours. 

Vernon smells like his cologne and something distinctly him. It makes you dizzy, and the way he tastes like whiskey and lime makes the room spin. When he pulls away from him, you feel like you’re going to fall from the stool, leaning toward him. 

His hands grip your thighs, squeezing generously as he leans in and drags his mouth to your ear. “Does that clear things up?” 

“Actually, no?” 

His groan is throaty, turning into laughter as he buries his face in your neck. Your hands tentatively settle on his waist, a little hesitant. “I always said you were the smartest person at school, but maybe not.”

“Hey!” 

“Come home with me.” He feels your delay, laughing. “Come home with me because I like you. Is that clearer? Because I want you to come home with me, and I don’t want anyone else here.” 

Your heart goes bolting like a rabbit, running in circles. Vernon pulls away from you to study your face. You watch him for any sign that he’s kidding, that he doesn’t mean it. You find none. In its place, you only see honesty. Hunger. Fiery desire burning at the surface. 

“Really?” Your question is small. Vulnerable. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.” He tugs on your thighs. “I’m not playing games with you. Come home with me - I’ll prove I’m serious about you. You are what I want. I just had to be sure.” 

Lightheaded and heart slamming, you let Vernon pull you from the seat and lead you out of the bar. 

-

Vernon’s apartment on the north side of town is a place you’ve been a million times. You recognize all the cars in the parking lot, and you know exactly what building and floor belongs to him. You even recognize his neighbors come in mat that you’ve always hated. 

He catches you staring at it with distaste now, laughing as he shakes his head and inserts his keys. “You and that mat.”

One hand works the keys into the door while the other is stretched behind him, fingers linked with yours. Your hand is warm and your heart is still racing as he gets the door open, pulling you inside the dark of his home. 

“They could be inviting anything in,” you assert, a little breathless as he pulls you to his chest. He kicks the door shut, the frame rattling as it slams. “You should never have a doormat that just welcomes whatever shows up at your door inside. You could end up with a vampire in your home.”

“A vampire, huh?” Vernon ducks his head towards your neck, lips skimming your throat. Your fingers twist in the hem of his shirt, eyes fluttering closed as his teeth scrape against your pulse point. “Sounds scary.” 

“It is. There’s nothing to disprove that vampires exist.” 

Vernon bites down and you whine, melting into him. His laugh vibrates through his chest as his tongue presses to the bite mark, soothing the pain. His mouth closes over the spot and he sucks gently, sending a shiver through your body. 

“I promise the only thing biting you will be me.”

The full weight of his words hit you between the legs. You feel like putty in his hand as he navigates you to the island counter in his kitchen. He presses your back into it, careful not to jam you too harshly against the marble. 

Heat licks through your stomach as Vernon steals your lips in a kiss. It’s different from the gentle one he gave you at the bar. This one drinks you in, pries you open and lets you spill out into him, all the feelings and bottled thoughts you have free for the taking.

You get lost in him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him close, fingers sliding through his hair. He moans and you respond, curling your fingers to scrape your nails against his scalp. His hips twitch forward, pinning you between him in the counter as he sucks your bottom lip harshly. 

“Be careful,” he warns, a hand drifting from your chin to your neck. He doesn’t wrap his fingers around your throat, but his hand rests there, heavy and wanting. “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

You steal a kiss, nipping his bottom lip sharply. “Don’t be.”

His resounding groan makes you dizzy. His kisses become rough and heated, using his tongue as much as his teeth. He presses you hard into the countertop now, the marble digging into your back as he nearly folds you in half with the weight of his body. 

It feels like the air has left the room. Vernon is the only thing you need to breathe in, fueled by the way his tongue licks into you, the gentle squeeze of his hand at the base of your throat. His fingers press against your pulse, not enough to cut off any airflow but enough to send a bolt of pleasure and thrill through you. 

“You have no idea,” Vernon pants, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your jawline. “How long I’ve waited to do this. I could have had you this entire fucking time, but I held myself back.” 

His thumb presses under your jaw, angling your head to the side. With more access to your throat, he peppers you in bites and kisses, tongue soothing each sting. “I have wasted so much time,” he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Being a fucking coward.”

“Don’t say that,” you gasp as his other hand presses between your legs. The ache in your cunt is already throbbing, and he does nothing but make it worse by adding pressure but doing nothing more. “Please don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” He pulls away from you. Before you can complain, he gives you a quick kiss, tugging you toward his room. “I shouldn’t have waited until I had a little… encouragement to do this. I’m going to give you everything you want, love.”

A quiver slithers down your spine at the shortened version of your nickname. The new endearment hits home when you see the way he looks at you, the want and desire more unrestrained than anything else you’ve ever seen on his expression. 

Hand in yours, he pulls you into the bedroom, spinning you to sit you down on the edge of his bed. You look up at him through your lashes, admiring the shape of his face and the way you can just barely see his freckles in the soft glow from the nightlight in his bathroom as he slots himself between your knees. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Vernon whispers, voice like velvet. He slides a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze even higher as he watches you, eyes blown. “I’m entirely devoted to you and you only. You know that, right?” 

Vernon’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You open your mouth on instinct and he growls low in his throat. He pushes his thumb past your swollen lips, pressing down on your tongue. You taste the lime from earlier and the hint of salt on his skin, closing your mouth as you suck gently. 

“Fuck,” he swears, thumb pressing harder. “You really have been a little slut for me this entire time, huh?” 

Hearing Vernon say it in that deep, whispered voice of his does something to you. There’s a note in his voice you’re unfamiliar with, a dangerous edge that you want to lean into and cut yourself on. So you nod, lashes fluttering as you bat them up at him. 

“Yeah, thought so.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it spit-slicked down your chin. “Lay back on the bed for me, love.” 

You do so immediately, shuffling backward so that you can lean back. The sheets smell like him and you tilt your head to the side, nuzzling his comforter a little. You try to ground yourself, feeling a little staticky as he kneels on the bed, mattress dipping. 

Vernon plants a knee between your legs, leaning forward to cage you in with a hand on either side of your head. His kiss is all consuming, any sense of delicacy gone. You let him devour you, your hands pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer.

He’s not close enough, never close enough. 

Having him like this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s familiar, the scent of him and the warmth of his skin and the little sounds he makes but he’s also entirely new. He is rougher than you imagined, sharper than you thought. He drags his blunt nails over your collarbone as he pulls your shirt away from your neck, giving his mouth access to litter your skin with kisses. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, curious as you press the pads of your fingers into his stomach. You feel the muscles flex and he hums low in his throat, enjoying your exploration as you slide your hands around the perfect taper of his waist to the small of his back. 

Vernon slides his knee higher, pressing it directly to your clothed cunt. You twitch against him, a questioning sound leaving your lips as you breathe in sharply. 

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against your chest, one pulling sharply at your shirt. You hear the seams rip and you don’t even care. “Take what you need, love.” 

The rawness of his words fucks you up. You do as he says, rolling your hips against his thigh for any sort of pressure and friction. It helps relieve the tension a little, but not nearly enough. Your breathing turns ragged as he harshly bites and kisses his way to your bra. 

Yanking hard, he rips the rest of your shirt. You let out a throaty laugh and he looks up at you, eyes like burning coals. “What’s so funny, hmm?”

“I did not expect you to be able to rip my shirt.” 

“Oh?”

The dangerous note in his voice makes your hips stutter and stop. He runs the tip of his tongue around the soft curve of your chest, watching you all the while and fuck. If you’d realized that this was the type of Vernon you’d get, maybe you’d have been braver sooner. Because this Vernon is something else, confident and cocky and ravenous. 

“Want me to rip this too?” He teases, teeth pulling at the cup of your bra. Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath, a little overwhelmed. “Say the word.”

“Maybe salvage some of my clothing, Vernon.”

“Fine. I will not salvage you, though.”

You believe him. Nothing about the way Vernon peels your bra off of you is gentle. Nothing about the way his hand cups your breast, squeezing before he lowers his mouth to give a generous suck to your nipple feels like he has your survival in mind. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let Vernon have his way. It feels like he’s peeling you open layer by layer, plucking every string connected to your pleasure that he can find.

His mouth is a weapon, tongue lazily circling your pert nipple until you’re whining and squirming under him. He laughs and drags his tongue to the other side of your chest, licking his way to your peak to tease you further. 

“Shit,” you whisper, one hand leaving his back to tangle in his hair. You don’t know if you’re pulling him away or pushing him closer - maybe both. “Vernon.”

His teeth scrape your nipple and you whine. He shuts you up by closing his mouth around you, sucking sharply. When he pulls away with a loud pop, you let out a shaky breath. 

“You can barely keep it together,” he observes. He placed closed mouth kisses on your stomach as he descends, pulling his knee from between your thighs. “What are you gonna do when I eat you out, huh?”

Flushed and embarrassed, you cover your face as his tongue licks the skin above your jeans. “Cat got your tongue, love?” 

“You - you’re - ugh!”

He chuckles, popping the button of your jeans. “I’m ugh?” 

“You know what I mean.” 

Vernon tugs on your jeans. You try to lift your hips to help him, but your thighs are like jelly already, turning you useless. He coos at you, pressing a kiss to your hip gently. “I got you.” 

Unsure if he means about your inability to get out your fucking pants or he understand what you mean, you let him peel them down the rest of the way. His hands skate up your calves, squeezing and firm as he sinks to his knees on the floor. 

Bracing yourself, you brave a look between your legs where he presses your thighs open gently with his palms. Veronon’s eyes are on the apex of your thighs, entirely focused on where your underwear stick to your folds. He licks his lips, hand brushing up and down your thighs. 

His gaze flickers to you. For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. You feel overly exposed, naked from the waist up, cool air pebbling your spit-slicked chest. The weight of his gaze presses you down like a physical thing, but it’s comforting. Warm. Reassuring. 

The air is charged between you as he keeps watching you while he drags a hand up and between your legs. He presses a thumb between your folds and you whimper, feeling the way he prods at your aching entrance, only the thin fabric keeping him out.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asks, thumb slowly dragging up the damp patch to your clit. He digs in sharply, pressing firm enough that your pleasure spikes and your hips pop off the bed. He hisses at you and smacks your thigh, making you lower your ass to the bed again. “Everytime we were together, did you get like this?” 

It takes effort to rasp, “Sometimes.”

Vernon hooks his thumb in the side of your pants, pulling. The fabric peels back achingly slow, cool air hitting your cunt and making you whine. He hums thoughtfully, placing the fabric to the side.

“Like what times?” he questions, blowing cool air against you. You thrash and he laughs, pinning you down by the hips. “I’m curious. Elaborate for me.” 

“Umm.” 

It’s the only word you can get out before he renders you speechless, the flat of his tongue sliding slowly up your pussy. You go boneless, breath stuck in your chest as his tongue lazily circles around your clit and drags back down. He repeats the motion, the slow-soft brush of his tongue driving you insane instantly. 

“You’re not elaborating,” Vernon notes. He presses a kiss that is far too sweet for the moment to your bundle of nerves. “I wanna know all the times you were with me where you felt like this. Go on.” 

“I don’t,” you breath catches when his tongue curls through your folds. He’s soft and slow as he licks you, a lazy smoothless to it that makes you see stars. “Know how to speak when you’re doing that.” 

“Should I stop?” 

“No.”

“Try,” he murmurs, dipping his tongue in your dripping entrance. “I want to know.” 

Fuck. Trying to pull together any coherent thoughts is like wading through thick water. You’re distracted by the way Vernon’s mouth closes on you, sucking gently. He takes his time, fingers pressed into the meat of your thighs as he keeps you open, enjoying you fully. 

“I - shit - I guess sometimes when we go out,” you manage. “I like when you wear your hat backwards.” 

He flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit, making you clench, toes curling. His mouth is wet and warm, closing around your throbbing bundle and sucking gently. Your hips lift but his grip is firm, keeping his mouth to you. 

When he pulls away, the suction is audible, a string of spit and arousal connecting his lips to your pussy. “Taste so fucking good,” he whispers. You think it’s more to himself than you, his tongue carving through you again. “Tell me more.” 

“Halloween night. When you were in skull makeup.”

His tongue starts circling your clit again, the indirect stimulation driving you wild. Your hands tangle in the sheets, sweat slicking your skin as Vernon works to firmer motions. You realize he knows exactly how you like it, gentle to start, working you to firmer motions, a little hungrier. 

It makes him all the more lethal, the way he can just figure you out like that. “Yeah?” he asks, sucking harshly against you. “Wanted me to fuck you like that?” 

“God, yeah.”

“You should have asked. I’ll fuck you however you want.” 

“Didn’t think you liked me.” 

Vernon is too busy to answer, increasing the attention of his mouth. Your hands slide down to his, nails digging into the tops of his hands where he holds you. He lets go of your hips in favor of linking your fingers, pressing your clasped hands to the mattress. 

His name drips from your mouth, eyes falling shut as you sink into the pleasure deep in your stomach. He makes little sounds of pleasure, grunting and groaning as his mouth becomes more fervent. You feel yourself toeing the edge of an orgasm, so so so close.

He can tell too. He finds a harsh rhythm, pulling you closer and closer to your high with each sharp suck of his lips. You twist in his grip, fingers squeezing his so hard you think you might break his hands. You don’t, feeling your breath catch and hold as you come hard, thighs squeezing as you writhe on the bed.

You draw in a ragged breath, desperate for air as he kisses your cunt once. Twice. His slick mouth presses against your thighs, teeth dragging against soft flesh as he mouths his way to your knee. He gives you a moment, letting you pant against the sheets. 

Fabric sticks to your skin as you wiggle against the bed. He stands up, crawling up you again to find your mouth. You lean forward, catching him in an open-mouth kiss that is more tongue than anything, your taste heady in the heat of his mouth. 

“Turn over on your stomach for me,” he groans. His hands squeeze your side as he gives you room to follow his direction. You do, but not without his help, your orgasm making you a little clumsy. “Can you get on your knees for me?”

“Maybe?”

“I’ll help you in a second.”

Instead of moving, you lay slumped on the bed, fully intending to let him do the work. You turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off, revealing firm, tan skin. Vernon is beautiful, the sleek lines of his body reminding you of a painting. He kicks off his jeans before shuffling back on the bed behind you, looking down and snorting.

“Didn’t want to move like I asked?” You shake your head. He pats your ass lightly. “Come on, darling. Help me get these panties off or I will rip them off.” 

Huffing, you do as he says. He does lend you his strength hauling you up by the arm as you lean up on your knees. The room is cold, making you shiver but he presses your back to his chest, mouth dusting kisses over your shoulders. 

Vernon’s fingers dance along your sides until he’s pulling your underwear the rest of the way down your thighs, helping you kick out of them. When he’s got you full naked, he presses your back to him, crowding your space as he angles your head to kiss you slowly. Fully. 

Behind you, his cock presses firmly into your ass. You push back against him, putting pressure against his shaft. He hisses, biting your shoulder harshly. 

“Careful,” he growls, teeth at your neck. “Or I won’t be very nice.” 

“Want you, though.”

“You’ll have me when I say you can.” 

One of his hands slides up to your neck, gripping your throat lightly. He pauses, leaning to catch your gaze. His eyes are round and soft. Honest. Open. “This okay?” He questions gently. He gives a little squeeze to indicate what he means. You nod eagerly, reaching a hand to close around his, making him press harder. “Fuck you’re perfect.” 

You lean your head back against his chest as he holds you by the throat, one of your hands dropping to his elbow, the other reaching behind you to sink your fingers in his hair and tug. The sound he makes is feral, the hand he has placed on your waist dropping between your legs, fingers pressing between them. 

“Oh,” you squeak, feeling his deft tough on your clit. His movements are aided by your earlier release, fingers circling smoothly as he squeezes your throat, thumb pressed perfectly, to make it just a little harder to breathe. “Shit.” 

“Can you tell me a safe word? Not gonna go hard, just wanna know if it becomes too much.” 

“Maenad.” He snorts and you huff. “I just wrote an essay on them, don’t start.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Alright. Just please use it if it’s too much - any of it. If you can’t talk, pat my arm, alright? Just wanna do this right.” 

You nod, so in love with him it takes all of you to stop yourself from blurting it. 

Vernon shuffles behind you, letting you tilt forward a little. The hand between your legs leaves and he instead brings it behind you, prodding at your pussy with his fingers from behind. You let out a loud sound and you can almost feel his grin as he presses a finger into your heat. 

He’s slow at first, the same way he was with his mouth. He explores what you like, testing the way his fingers drag against your walls combined with different grip strengths on your throat. You feel light headed. The room spins as he finds a rhythm that draws the most noises from you, that makes you clench down on his finger the most. 

All of your weight is against the hand around your neck, barely able to hold yourself up as he presses another finger in. This time, his fingers prod right against that soft spot inside of you, making you see stars. He must realize he’s found it, because he starts finger fucking you in earnest. 

The grip on your throat loosens a little, careful not to keep you short of breath for too long as he works your cunt with his hand. His lips find your shoulder, peppering you with light kisses that are delicate and butterfly soft in comparison to the way his fingers fuck into you. 

“Vernon,” you whisper, only able to think of his name. “Vernon vernon vernon.”

“Doing so good, darling,” he whispers against your skin. He kisses his way to your ear, sucking the sensitive spot on your neck. “So fucking good for me.” 

His words hit below the belt. You shudder in his hold, letting him drive you toward another release. You never imagined Vernon to be talkative in bed, but he is, his voice like velvet. Just like that. Perfect for me. There you go, come on. 

Everything about him is perfect, driving you to mania. His grip on your throat tightens suddenly, sensing how close you are to your second peak. Your breath quickens until you can’t breathe, going mute against him as his fingers press hardly into that spot over and over and over.

A high-pitched ring winds in your ears. You hold and hold and hold and when Vernon lets go of your throat, a gust of air flooding your lungs, you shatter around his hand. You collapse backward against him, head knocking into his. You don’t even care, twitching and gasping against him as his hand stills. 

For a few moments, you just lean against him like that, sweaty and lost and in a dream. Slowly, you become aware of his pounding heart against your back and the slick between your thighs. Vernon’s mouth is pressed to your shoulder, waiting patiently as you blink a few times, the room swimming into view.

“Hi,” he murmurs, watching you with shadowy eyes.

“Hi,” you croak, voice rough.

“Good?”

“Very.” 

“Want to stop?”

“No. Unless you want to.”

His gaze darkens. “I don’t.” 

“I want more. I can take more.” 

He lifts his head and presses a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re perfect for me. Do you know that?” 

Reverent hands help you lay back against the pillows. Vernon touches you like you’re something delicate - not because he thinks you’re fragile, but because you’re something important to him. Valuable. You see it in the way he looks down at you, taking a moment to drink you in. 

There’s something else there too. Something edged with a knife, a little wild. Covetous. There is something in the way Vernon grips your leg briefly, a language he’s trying to communicate to you with touch. 

Mine, it says. Mine and no one else's.

With hooded eyes, you watch him peel his briefs off. Your eyes shoot to where his cock hangs heavy, beads of precum dripping at his tip. You reach a hand up toward him but he shakes his head, careful as he shuffles toward you.

“Later,” he promises. “I like touching you.” 

“I want you to feel good.”

“You make me feel good. Seeing you unravel makes me feel good. I like seeing how much you enjoy me touching you.”

You can tell he means it. His lips are swollen and soft when he kisses you. You open your legs open for him, letting him settle between the softness of your thighs. Vernon runs the head of his cock through your messy fluids, earning a whine for you.

“Sensitive?” he asks against your lips, nose nudging yours. You nod and you feel him smile. “Sorry.”

“Feels good,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Want more.” 

“Greedy thing.” 

“I’m Your greedy thing.”

Your words have the desired effect. You feel a shiver ripple through him, Vernon’s grip on your leg turning to iron as he opens you up wider. He presses his cock into your entrance slowly, pausing just as the tip pops in. You throb around him, whispering his name - begging him to keep going. 

Vernon’s grin is sharp as he sinks in further, the slide tortuous and wonderful and so much as he finally finds home, hips pressed as far as he can go. He stays like that, tangling your tongue in a messy kiss as he sits there, fully seated in your heat. Your pussy spasms around him, pressed open to the max. 

“Feels so good,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.”

“So do it.” You wrap a leg around his waist, your hips tilting upward. Both of you moan at the angle change, so close to breaking. “I wanna see it.” 

Instead of answering, he nods. He drags his hips backward slowly before slamming back in. He punches the breath out of your lungs with each slide home, the stroke slow but deep. Your head falls to the side, breaths rasping as he sets a steady, slow pace. 

It feels good, your legs curling around him to keep you close, hands tangle in his hair to keep him tethered to you. His hair is damp with sweat, your fingers curled in the strands, tugging a little. He seems to like it, making a needy sound in his throat that has you grinning. 

“Mine,” Vernon whispers to you, words muffled by your neck. “You are only mine, darling. You will only ever be mine. You were made for me. No one else.”

“No one else,” you agree. 

His hips move faster, a little messier. You egg him on, legs squeeze, cunt spasming around him. He lets out a feral sound, driving himself further to his orgasm. He drags you with him, another swell reaching you. Vernon can tell, chasing it like a predator, pinning you down and slamming his cock into you until you’re melting around him again, vision blotted out. 

Vernon comes to the sound of his name on your lips. His movements become sloppy until he can’t go anymore, holding himself above you, trembling. Carefully, he drops next to you, pulling his cock free. You feel your joint fluids run down your leg, but you’re too tired to care. 

Reaching for him, your hand finds his chest. He wraps his fingers around yours, holding your palm to him, his heart thudding wildly under your touch.

“For you,” he mutters. “Only for you, darling.” 

You fall asleep like that, hand pressed to his chest.

-

Waking up in Vernon’s bed is not new to you. You’ve fallen asleep numerous times at his apartment or stayed the night after going out, but you’ve always had the bed to yourself, Vernon opting to take the couch. 

The bed is empty now, but still warm. You stretch as you roll over in his sheets, groaning as you feel the soreness between your legs and mostly everywhere else. Pressing your hand to your chest and shoulders, you feel all the tender places Vernon mapped his affection with tongue and teeth. It makes you smile fondly as you lay in bed alone for a minute, breathing in the scent of his room.

Slowly, you peel yourself from his bed. With an awkward waddle, you make it to the bathroom, flicking on the light. You shield your eyes at first, going about your morning routine and washing your face to try and feel human again. 

On your way out, something catches your eye. You frown, walking back toward his laundry hamper where you see brass glinting in the light. You reach for it, pulling the bell from the tangle of his clothes. It has an old wooden handle with cracks, a little hand bell used for-

Well. Used the night of halloween. You have no idea why Vernon still has it, the memory of that night like poison in your mouth. You toss it back into the hamper on top of another shirt that catches your eye. It’s one of his dark green t-shirts, but the collar is stained dark brown.

Curious, you pull it out, shaking the shirt out in front of you. It’s mostly unmarked, save for the spatter of something dark brown and dried. You run your finger around the edge of it, puzzled. It looks like dried blood, but you can’t recall any injuries he’s suffered recently. 

You take the shirt with you into his room, tossing it on his bed as you get dressed, stealing sweatpants and a hoodie. Grabbing the shirt again, you trail out toward the kitchen where Vernon is making breakfast, the smell of bacon crackling in the pan.

You grin, leaning against the doorframe for a second to watch him. He looks so at ease, flipping pieces of bacon while he sings to some seventies song you don’t know the name of. 

Pushing off the wall, you head toward him. He catches you in his peripheral, turning his head and smiling at you. “Hello, Darling.” 

The nickname gives you pause. You slow as you come around the corner of the counter, stopping completely as the endearment pricks you sharply on the back of your neck. Vernon goes back to flipping bacon, singing along a song you vaguely know, but don’t know why Vernon does. He’s never liked music from the 1970s, and-

Your ears start to ring. Several things occur to you at once. 

The memory of Vernon screaming and banging his fists against the door, begging for help. You’d been so afraid that you ripped the door open, crashing through the line of salt. 

Vernon, sharp and confident, the new edge to him as he interacts with people, a little harsher. A little darker.

Nah need to cut back on the sodium had said when you asked about the lack of salt on his fries.

The way he’d called you darling the night before, whispering it against your skin. 

70s music that Vernon has never listened to since you’ve known him.  

The bell sitting in the hamper used to call a spirit on Halloween. 

In the house that belonged to the Hello Darling Murderer.

Brown stains - like blood - on his shirt. 

Carefully, you learn toward the middle of the counter, watching Vernon like a prey skirts a predator. With trembling hands, you gently grab the salt from where it sits next to the pepper. You hold your breath, trying not to draw his attention as you unscrew the top of it, placing the metal lid on the shirt to keep it quiet. 

With as silent steps as you can manage, you cross to the other side of the kitchen where you’re out of his line of sight. Tipping the salt over, you pour it across the tile from counter to fridge, eyes darting between the barrier of white and the man standing in the kitchen humming. 

Your heart hammers. 

Your hands shake. 

Salt shaker empty, you set it on the counter and take a few steps back. It’s an unbroken line of salt, and though it doesn’t trap him in the kitchen, at least it’s there. 

Vernon turns around with the pan of bacon. He sees you and his humming stops, cocking his head to the side. He notices the empty salt shaker. Frowns. Looks at you. Looks at the ground where you’ve drawn a line of salt. 

For a second, he just stares at it. His eyes flick back up to you, warm and brown but narrowed. 

“Why is there salt all over my floor?” 

“Cross it.” 

“Huh?”

“Step over the line of salt.” 

Silence stretches between you. He remains standing in the kitchen, pan in hand, music playing in the background.

When Vernon doesn’t move, you can see everything so clearly. 

Vernon hadn’t been joking when he slammed his hands on the door begging for help on Halloween. A sick feeling roils in your stomach as you remember the panicked screams, the way his fists hammered the door. 

Your next words come out as a hiss. “Cross the line of salt, Vernon.”

He looks at the salt and purses his lips before sighing and setting the pan down on the stove. He tosses the rag from his shoulder and shakes his head, striding over to the white line you made against his tile. He stops in front of it, looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if to say really?

“Well, do it.”

Vernon looks down at the salt. Looks back up to you. Down at the salt. 

And then he laughs. 

“Fuck, you really are the smartest person in school.” He sighs heavily, a gaze darker than anything you’ve ever seen on his face as he stares at you. “You know I can’t cross that line of salt, darling.” 

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries @archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen @mingumis @kimsaerom

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[sailorsoons]

Hello, Darling (c.hs)

Pairing: Vernon x afab reader

Summary: Vernon has been one of your best friends for years. Shy, quiet and calm, he’s always been a steady rock for you. He has no idea you’re in love with him, but that’s neither here nor there. After a strange series of events on Halloween night, Vernon seems a little… different, and the new version of him both terrifies and thrills you. 

Word Count: 21,558

Genre: Supernatural, Friends to Lovers, Thriller

Type: Smut, Angst

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Explicit language, recreational drinking and smoking, crude humor, some of the members of SVT are a bit of an asshole in this - it is not a reflection of how I think of them, mentions of occult practices, a NOT ACCURATE spirit summoning/ritual, mentions of a murder suicide case/event, mentions of murders, light mentions of blood, mentions of infidelity, catching someone in a sexual act (not the main couple), Vernon is a bit of an asshole at times, mentions of insecurities/confused feelings, I owe Chan and Mingyu an apology for how I wrote them, sexual tension, some angst, sexually explicit content including thigh riding, oral (f. receiving), nipple play, a lot of biting and scratching, choking/breath play, vaginal fingering, a lot of spit and cum mentioned, unprotected sex, references to sub space, Vernon takes a dom role but it is not explicitly established, Vernon gets a little bit possessive, calls reader a slut a total of one time, some light finger sucking, reader is at several points annoyed with the women in this fic which can come off a lil bitchy, general creepy scenes in woods and in some dark spooky places. 

Additional Content Warning: It is implied by the end of this fic that Vernon is possessed to some degree by a spirit in this. I make zero distinction as to whether it’s Vernon or the spirit calling the shots or if there is even a difference/distinction between the two, which poses the fair question of consent in parts of this that I do not address or provide nuance to. The lack of clarification is due to the POV of this fic being entirely from reader’s perspective and she doesn’t have a clue what’s going on until the very end, and thus we are unable to unpack to what degree this character is or is not himself. If that lack of nuance bothers you, that is valid but this is not the fic for you. 

❀ A/N: This was an original request fill for my Haliween event on my first blog for @eoieopda. Thank you for letting me write you 20k+ of this Vernon :)

A/N 2: I AM NOT WRITING A PART 2 TO THIS ON PURPOSE. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE AMBIGUOUS.

Reader Notes: This reader is never explicitly gendered as girl/she/her etc. so I have listed them as an afab reader.

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Cool wind lifts the pages of your book, threatening to flip them over. You press your fingers flat to the page, fighting to keep them from flitting over and losing your place in the story. There’s not much daylight left in the sky as the afternoon dies to make way for the evening, but you’re eager to finish the chapter, craving to unravel the mystery you’ve been working your way through the past week. 

Atmospheric sounds play in your headphones as you read. Your legs are crossed, book in your lap as you sit on the concrete wall separating the quad from one of the sidewalks on campus. Now that there’s a chill in the air, you crave being outside, finding the opportunity to sit wherever you can on campus to crack open a book before the sunlight finally fades. 

Flipping the page, you only get a split second warning of the shout you hear through your headphones before something hits you in the back of the head. You yelp, dropping the book to the ground as your headphones clatter from your head to the grass from the impact. 

Scowling, you swivel around to see Mingyu jogging over, his hand over his mouth as apologies start pouring out of him. A flush creeps up your neck as he approaches, his friends and fellow fraternity brothers watching from afar. Some of them are bent over cackling, the others have their hands on their head, visibly stressed from hitting you with their football.

Again. 

“I am so sorry,” he pleads, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Seungcheol threw wide.” 

“Maybe play on a rec field, then?” You snap, sliding from the wall, picking up your headphones and book. You kick the football toward him, irritated. “There’s literally so many other places you can play. Don’t you have a yard at your little frat house?” 

“It’s being used for float building for the Halloween parade.”

“Convenient.” 

For the most part, Mingyu isn’t so bad. He’s a little loud and obnoxious, but he’s always nice and he does seem to mean it when he picks up the football and apologizes again. It’s more than a lot of his fraternity brothers would do, though it’s not much now that they’ve managed to hit you twice with the same ball. 

Someone like Mingyu wouldn’t even pay attention to you if it weren’t for Vernon, though. As Mingyu retreats, the reason you’re even friends with Mingyu appears on the sidewalk, coming toward you with his hands in his pockets, hood pulled up on his head and headphones on. He lifts his chin in greeting to Mingyu, but Vernon’s brown eyes focus on you, his true destination. 

Vernon pulls his hood and headphones down when he’s within a few feet, jerking his thumb at Mingyu. “What did he want?” 

“He was apologizing for hitting me with the football. Again.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah. They hit me earlier.”

Vernon hums, displeased. He doesn’t say much, instead turning to lean against the wall, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets again.

The last embers of sunlight hit his side profile, stunning you to momentarily silence. In a halo of fiery light, Vernon looks like a god. His light brown eyes turn burnished gold, reflecting the dying sun. His hair is spun copper, strands dancing in the breeze as he watches the world around him. 

Not for the first time, you think that you understand why Helen of Troy inspired a thousand ships to come after her. Vernon’s face is the kind of thing you’ve read about in all of your mythologies and folktales for your Occult Studies major, so beautiful that it can’t be real.  

If Vernon notices you staring, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes watch the other members of his fraternity play football, one of them crashing into someone on a lawn chair. He shakes his head and mutters under his breath, wearing his second-hand embarrassment silently as he watches them apologize for the millionth time. 

Vernon is nothing like the rest of his fraternity. You’re still unsure why he even joined. It was something he had done his freshman year going into school, wanting to put himself out there and make friends. 

He certainly looks the part - he’s handsome and in shape from playing soccer in highschool, and he’s got good fashion sense for a college student. But he’s quiet and a little awkward, unsure how to navigate conversations with most people who aren’t in his immediate circle of friends and shy to an almost crippling point. 

It had taken Vernon seven weeks of being your lab partner before he finally spoke more than three sentences to you. For the longest time, you’d assumed it was because he thought you were beneath him. It wouldn’t have surprised you. Greek life on campus tended to stick with their own. 

Now, you know it was because he didn’t know what to say or how to start a conversation. You’d only managed to get him to talk to you when he noticed a song by Frank Ocean bleeding from your headphones, piquing his interest. 

Four years later, talking to Vernon is easy. Well, maybe not easy. You’ve got years of friendship between you now and you know what makes Vernon tick, but the butterflies you get when you’re around him and the way your heart swells when he does something so simple makes it a little harder. 

Like now, as day fades to evening and the world is awash in purple and gold, and he’s looking at the watercolor sky like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, completely unaware that while he’s in awe of the sky, you’re in awe of him. 

Vernon jerks forward, making you flinch. You have no idea what he’s doing until his hand is in front of you, smacking down the football that has been sent your direction again. You huff in frustration, watching as this time it’s Chan who jogs over to get it. 

“Are you all fucking serious?” You demand. He slows his approach, eyes darting to Vernon as though looking for help from his friend. Vernon says nothing, bending over to pick up the football and toss it to Chan. “I should shove that football up your ass.” 

“Maybe not the football,” Chan quips, catching it. He looks you up and down, head cocking to the side a little. His mouth lifts at the corner and there’s a glint in his dark eyes that makes you even angrier. “I’m open to other things, though?” 

“You’re so gross.”

“What? You’re hot when you’re mad.” 

“Go away, Chan!” You shriek, flustered and angry as you spin around to grab your things and storm off. You only get a few feet before realizing Vernon is still leaning on the wall. “Are you coming or not?”

He scrambles after you, nearly tripping over his own feet to catch up. Chan is snickering as he runs back toward where the others wait for him, yelling a trilling bye toward you and Vernon as you charge north toward the main campus parking lot. 

“He’s so annoying,” you gripe, shoving your book in your bag. Vernon hums, noncommittal. You glance at him. “Nothing more to add?” 

He lifts a shoulder. “It’s cause they think you’re hot, Lovecraft.”

You smile at the nickname, fondness sweeping through you. He’d started calling you Lovecraft your freshman year after learning about your major, deciding that it just fit. You like it - at least coming from Vernon, who understood Occult Studies was more than just spooky and magic and the metaphysical. 

“They think anything with a set of tits and a hole to stick their dick in is hot. I’m sure a blowup doll would blow their fucking mind.” 

Vernon’s mouth twitches at that. “You’d hate Chan’s room.”

“Don’t give me that visual!” 

His laugh is warm. He bumps shoulders with yours, grinning at you as the two of you walk. You feel the telltale sign of your traitorous heart beating extra hard at his closeness, your gaze shooting to the floor as you try to hide any evidence of your feelings that might lurk on the surface of your expression. 

Thankfully, Vernon never seems to notice. You’re glad that he doesn’t. You don’t think you’re very good at hiding how you feel, but he is equally bad at picking up on it, totally oblivious to the long stares and the way you fumble over your words when he gets too close. 

Vernon has that effect on a lot of people. His proximity to being attractive has always outweighed his inability to make small talk among the female population on campus. The amount of times you’ve watched girls openly flirt with him and whisper about what it would take to get him to crack was insurmountable. 

Autumn wind kicks up leaves at your feet. Neither one of you says anything as you walk, simply content to be together. It’s one of your favorite things about him, never feeling pressure to perform or to have conversation. Being with Vernon is just… easy. Natural, even. 

The parking lot is slowly emptying as the rest of the late afternoon classes end. A few unlucky evening class students pull in, slamming their car doors and rushing off to their auditoriums. Vernon’s car is easy to find and you let yourself in, sliding into the passenger seat like it’s yours - it kind of is. 

“Pizza?” he asks, engine humming to life. 

“Please.” His lips twitch in a soft smile as he nods, flipping on the radio. You hum, leaning forward and turning up the volume. “I love this song.” 

Vernon’s smile increases as you lean back, the sounds of Emotional Oranges filling the car. He rolls the windows down once he’s on the road proper, cool wind kissing your skin. You pull your feet up onto the seat, leaning toward the window as the fading twilight brushes past you. 

Outside the car, the world smells like pine. You take a deep breath in, loving the way the October air feels just right. Fall is always your favorite time of year, and with the music playing in the background, wind in your hair and Vernon drumming on the wheel, you don’t think there could be anything better in the world. 

Sal’s Pizzeria glows against the dark, a beacon of hunger and hope against the night. The giant pizza slice on the roof blinks rapidly, the neon a little bit broken. Gold light glows through the windows as you climb out the car, gravel crunching beneath your feet. 

A bell chimes as the door opens and a group of students pour out, laughing and carrying boxes. Vernon catches the lip of the door and holds it open for you, gesturing you to enter first. The smell of bread and warm air hits you in the face, your lips curving as you tell the girl at the host stand two.

College students and local residents fill the restaurant. The hostess leads you to a booth in the corner, the vinyl seats creaking under you as you hop-slide your way in. She hands you the menus, her eyes lingering on Vernon as she does, lips twitching when she asks if there’s anything else you need. When he doesn’t answer, you shake your head, shooting her a thin-lipped smile. 

She’s hesitant to leave but she does, casting one last look over her shoulder as she heads back to the stand. You look at Vernon too, studying him. He’s none the wiser, brown eyes scanning the menu even though you know he’s going to order the same thing. 

When the server comes, Vernon does as expected: orders a diablo pizza with a side of fries. You shake your head a little, asking for the white feta pizza, handing over the sticky menus. When the server is gone, Vernon leans back in the seat, sipping his coke as he drinks you in, wordless. 

You kick your feet up on his side of the booth next to him and he lets you, patting your ankle fondly when he sets his drink down. He has no idea how torturous that alone is, the simple comfort of his familiar touch enough to send your eyes averting across the room, trying to control your breathing. 

“What are the favorites and least favorites this week?” he asks, balling up the paper his straw came in. 

Favorites and least favorites is a game you like to play with him. It’s not so much of a game as it is a routine where you tell him your favorite piece of material from your classes and your least favorite. Most people dismiss your major as too peculiar for interest. No one knows what you’re supposed to do with Occult Studies but it fascinates you.

And Vernon, who has always had a keen interest in the goings on in your classes and homework. 

“We’re in the psychology of the occult module.” He nods, eyes fixed on you. “Mostly covering the psychology of community as it relates to the occult. We have sections on covens, clans, actual cults, sects and more modern mass followings.” 

“Hmm. So like… Twitter stans.”

You smile a bit. “Something like that. We covered the maenads in class today. Ever heard of them?” He shakes his head and you lean forward, elbows on the table. “They were women in Ancient Greece devoted to the god Dionysus and they were believed to be possessed by the god. They were said to have wild parties in the woods with one another where they’d do all manner of sordid things, all while under the influence.” 

“A Friday night for Chan.”

“Exactly. A lot of historians call them crazy and speculate they were raving mad, but if I was a woman under the thumb of men in Ancient Greece…”

“Shit, I’d get fucking crazy in the woods with my friends too.”

“Exactly. It was more about reveling in female companionship and being unfettered from the male-dominated societal norms.” 

The arrival of your dinner interrupts the conversation. Both of you lean backward, making room for the hot plates and Vernon’s basket of fries. You slide your feet down from his side of the booth, leaning to grab the red pepper flakes from the corner of the table. He grabs salt, immediately dusting his fries.

“Ugh, you could have at least let me have some first.” He looks up at you through his lashes, brows raised. “They’re already salted, Vernon.”

“Not enough.”

“You know, if you were haunted or possessed you’d never want the salt.” He gives a questioning hum. “Salt is used in purification rituals. It’s believed spirits hate it because it’s used in banishing spells and rituals. It’s why a line of salt keeps them out.”

“Good thing I’m hungry, not haunted.” 

You snort, taking a piece of your pizza from the tray. “Speaking of haunted, are we going to your Halloween party this weekend?”

“My halloween party?”

“You are in the fraternity, Vernon. Yes, yours.” 

He makes a face and tears into his pizza. You shake your head as he lets out a sound, huffing and tilting his head backward as he tries to deal with the too-hot food in his mouth burning him. “Ya,” he says around the slice. “I guess so.” 

“What are you going to wear?” He raises a brow at you, swallowing down the hot bite. You pout, sagging in your seat. “Dude, you have to dress up. You can’t just go in a black shirt and a baseball hat.” 

“Why not?” You kick him under the table and he winces, ducking down to rub at his shin. “Shit, fine. Okay, what do I go as?”

You grin, picking up your appropriately cooled pizza. “Leave it to me.” 

-

“This makeup itches,” Vernon mutters, looking up at you through long lashes. You hush him, putting the finishing touches on the black line down his mouth. “Couldn’t I have gone as something easier?”

“What is easier than black jeans and a jacket you already own, huh? Stop talking, I’m gonna fuck up this line and this makeup is perfect so far.” 

It’s true. You’ve outdone yourself on turning Vernon’s face into a skull, taking inspiration from American Horror Story for the costume. Vernon is a low effort kind of person, so getting him into costume is a lot easier when all it requires are clothes he already owns and makeup that you have to do anyway. 

Stepping away from him, you admire your handy work. His eyes are painted black, hollowed out for the skull. His dark hair is slicked back, the perfect skeleton. He looks… good. Painfully good, which makes you nervous and turn away quickly, heart flipping. You’re not sure what it says about you that Vernon staring at you while painted as a deadly skeleton makes your heart race but… it does. 

“How do I look?”

“Terrifying,” you admit, turning back to him. “But good.” 

He grins and if it were anyone else but Vernon, you’d be terrified. Maybe you did a little too good of a job. 

“What are you again?”

“One of the witches from American Horror Story Coven. Close your eyes, I’m going to use setting spray.” 

Darkness blankets the sky by the time you’re both scrambling down the steps and into an Uber. The driver does a double take when they see Vernon, eyes watching nervously in the rearview as you give him the address. 

“That’s at a closed down gas station.”

“Yep,” you agree, leaning back into the seat.

The driver mutters something about fucking college kids and fucking holiday but otherwise says nothing about the questionable location. He doesn’t need to know that a mile from the abandoned gas station is also an abandoned farmhouse notorious for unsanctioned parties and being distinctly haunted. 

Haunted isn’t your favorite thing in the world. You didn’t like to mess with ghosts, despite your area of study. You were infinitely more interested in the intersectionality of occult studies and modern culture and society and less enthused about the idea of drinking stale beer from a foamy tap in the middle of a murder house. 

If the driver thinks there’s anything weird about other people being dropped off at the gas station - you’re sure he does - he says nothing, ignoring the two of you as you get out of the car and dive into the night air. Vernon is close behind as you take a few steps away from the car, eyeing the old gas station.

The windows have long since been broken and cracked, foggy with time. The stations are stripped of their labels and stickers, just white residue left behind and no pumps. A few people lounge around the building smoking, dressed in a variety of halloween costumes. 

Nervous, you look up at Vernon. His smile is small and he juts his chin toward the dirt road that leads through the woods. Nodding, you both fall into step, sand and gravel crunching beneath your feet as you go. Vernon recognizes a few people associated with his fraternity and others, throwing a casual wave or a nod as you pass by people.

Music echoes down the road. It’s a little less foreboding in the dark trees when you can hear Michael Jackson’s thriller coming down the way and the dull roar of voices. The bend in the road straightens out, the line of trees giving way to flat land. 

The farmhouse is pretty, even in old age. It’s two stories, glowing from within from all of the battery lanterns and lights being used to light the party. A generator roars somewhere behind the house, light flooding the yard where people mingle and crowd the kegs. 

A chill slithers down your spine as you enter the yard, the broken gate doing a poor job at keeping trespassers out. Even with the lighting, shadows dance as you navigate through people, the strange anxiety crawling up your throat worsening as you near the house. 

Vernon pulls the sleeve of your dress so that you’re closer to him, his fingers steady and calm as he leads you up the steps where you can clearly hear Mingyu’s howling laughter inside. 

Bright light fills the house. As do a crush of people and beer pong tables, the abandoned home turned into a raucous display of drinking and debauchery. If you weren’t so distracted by the wave of people pushing you into Vernon’s arm, you might be impressed at how much you could forget the farm home was abandoned because someone had been murdered here. 

“I need a drink,” Vernon announces, continuing to pull your arm after him as he plunges toward what used to be the kitchen.

It’s where you find Mingyu dressed as a lifeguard - and loudly yelling directions. He blows his whistle shrilly when he sees you and Vernon, pointing at the two of you and spitting the whistle out of his mouth to scream, “NOT WET ENOUGH!”

“What a weird way to offer drinks,” you mutter. Chan, who seems to be on lifeguard assistant duty - while dressed in a horrid felt dinosaur costume - scrambles to get you drinks, spilling rum as he tips it over into a cup. “No ice?” 

“There’s not a fridge,” he pouts, shoving the cup in your hand. His eyes drink you in. “Are you a hot goth or?” 

Instead of answering him, you roll your eyes and turn to Mingyu, who blows the whistle again. Both you and Vernon wince, the latter throwing back his drink to chug it all before thrusting the cup back at Chan. “That’s gonna get real tiring.” 

Mingyu comes around the corner of the old island countertop, pumping his fists in the air to the music rattling through the house. “Vernon you look fucking sick!” He and Vernon do the little hand-clap-to-half-hug men do. Mingyu turns to look at you, eyes dark. “Are you like, a hot goth?” 

Your smile is plastic as the whistle around Mingyu’s neck. “Sure.” 

Mingyu, dancing and moving toward the living room, reaches out to you. “Come dance with me! This song fucks.”

“Decidedly not!” 

“Go ahead, Lovecraft!” Vernon urges, pushing you toward the obnoxious lifeguard with a shit-eating grin as he imitates Mingyu’s voice. “This song fucks.” 

Before you can chastise him for egging his fraternity brother on, Mingyu has you sucked into the dancing crowd, throwing his hands in the air as he swivels his way through the crowd. You try to knock back as much of the lukewarm drink as you can, cringing at the burn of cheap rum and not-iced coke. 

Bodies pressed in. Mingyu is close to you, a hand going to your waist. You frown and look over your shoulder, eyes scanning for Vernon. You know he’s probably lingering on the edge of the crowd, watching you with a smirk over the rim of his cup as he watches Mingyu roll his hips toward you.

“Mingyu,” you snap, turning back to him when you don’t find Vernon. “It’s the Monster Mash, it doesn’t require grinding.” 

“I mean, if you wanna graveyard smash…”

“You’re all insufferable! All of you!”

Still, you sway back and forth, trying to stomach finishing the rest of your horrid drink. It takes an effort, but shaking your head at Mingyu and judging him silently gets you most of the way through it until Soonyoung - dressed in the same tiger costume from last year - crashes through the crowd into the pair of you, thrilled when he realizes who it is he has slammed into. 

“Hot goth!” he screams, pointing at your outfit. “Where is your other half?” 

You don’t have to ask what Soonyoung means and both the drink and the accusation have you flushing. You shrug a shoulder, eyes surveying the party. Before either of you can find Vernon, Joshua appears at Soonyoung’s side, leaning to his ear to murmur something. Soongyoung’s face lights up and he grins at you, grabbing you by the wrist to yank you through the crowd. 

“Hello?” you demand, pulling your wrist from his grip. “Have you heard of asking?”

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“The last time I heard that was promptly followed by you showing me that stupid peach tattoo on your ass.”

“First of all, that tattoo is amazing.” He heads to the stairs, which you eye warily. “Second, Vernon is already upstairs, come on. You like weird ghost shit, you’ll like this.”

Without waiting for a reply, Soonyoung thunders up the stairs. You cringe, waiting for a foot to go through a dry plank and send him falling. It doesn’t happen, though. Tentatively, you creep up the stairs after him, eyes glued to each of the steps as you go. 

It’s colder upstairs, the windows in the rooms open to the elements. You shiver, looking down the hall to Soonyoung heading into a bedroom. You tentatively follow him, stopping at the threshold of the doorway to survey the people inside.

Vernon is one of them, back pressed to the wall near the window, his eyes focused on his boots in front of him, hands tucked into his pockets. A girl next to him dressed as Red Riding Hood is leaning close, speaking to him rapidly. Nothing on his face indicates he’s listening. Then again, his expression is hard to read while painted as a skull, mystifying and dark as you follow Soonyoung down the hall. 

Soonyoung goes straight toward a pile of things on the floor next to Seungcheol’s feet in the corner of the room. The president of Vernon’s fraternity pays Soonyoung no mind, eyes totally focused on the pretty fox in front of him, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

Suddenly, the room feels too intimate for you, like everyone is a couple tucked away. You have half a mind to go back downstairs when Vernon looks up at you, dark eyes zeroing in. His face is ten times more intense with the skull paint, pinning you to the spot. 

Everything dulls to the background for a second. You don’t dare breathe, too afraid to shatter the moment as he stares at you, unblinking. His eyes glitter in the darkness of the room, two amber pools reflecting the moonlight. 

Joshua enters the room behind you, shattering the spell as you step out of his way. You turn back to Vernon, clearing your throat. He pulls a hand from his pocket, beckoning you over. Mouth dry, you obey, skittering over toward him quickly as you observe the materials that Soonyoung is sifting through in the corner. Candles. Matches. Salt. A bell. 

“Soonyoung,” you say sharply, slowing your step. “Why do you have ritual materials?”

He looks up at you, his grin wide. “Told you that you’d like this.” 

“What is this?” You turn back to Vernon, who shrugs one shoulder. 

Hesitantly, you take the unoccupied space next to him, casting the girl at his side a cursory glance. She observes your costume. “Are you a hot goth?” 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, head thunking against the wall as you watch Soonyoung stand, materials in hand. Vernon coughs next to you, trying to cover his laugh. You glare at him sidelong and he says nothing, but his skeleton mouth is screwed up in a smirk. “What is he doing?”

“No clue.”

Soonyoung walks over to the bedroom door, looking down the hallway before shutting it. You fight a shiver, disliking how quiet the room becomes, cut off from the rest of the world. The window near you is the only source of light, and the only one shut on the second level of the abandoned home. 

“What time is it?” Soonyoung asks Joshua.

“11:45.” 

“Perfect.” Soonyoung spins, eyes falling on you. “Want to talk to a ghost?” 

All eyes turn to you in the room. You open and close your mouth, confused. “What?” 

“Do you want to talk to a ghost? Like someone who died?” 

Your eyes drift to the candle, bell and matches in Soonyoung’s hand. A tingle spreads over your skin and your spine stiffens. “Soonyoung that better not be to invite a spirit in.” 

His grin grows. “Come on, you are the ghost major or whatever. You should be thrilled to do this.”

“Occult Studies. And that doesn’t mean I fuck with the unknown or make a mockery of the dead. We’ve been over this.” 

“It’s basically the same thing, come on. You learn it all in class.” 

“No.” 

He pouts. “You’d be best at it, though. Rumor has it that when the veil is thinnest, you can talk to the spirit that haunts this house.” 

“The murderer? Or the murdered?” Soonyoung shrugs. “I doubt either would be very happy a bunch of drunk college kids are trying to bother them. My answer is no.” 

“Ugh. I was kind of counting on you doing it.” 

“Do it yourself.”

“I don’t study ghost shit!”

“Occult! Studies!”

“Ghost shit,” Soonyoung assures the room confidently.

“I’ll do it,” Vernon sighs, pushing off the wall. “Leave her alone.” 

Soonyoung’s eyes are alight as Vernon steps toward him. You reach out to grab his wrist, pulling him back. “Don’t.” 

“It’s fine.”

“Vernon.”

His eyes are soft when he looks at you. As soft as the terrifying makeup allows, anyway. “It’s fine, Lovecraft. Let me. He’ll stop asking.”

“I’m right here.”

“We know,” you and Vernon say in unison. You feel warm, chewing the inside of your cheek before nodding. You drop his wrist and turn to Soonyoung, eyes hard. “Give me that, you’ll do it wrong. Tell me what the mythos is.”

“What math? You need math?”

“The story, Soonyoung. What is the fucking story of this house?”

“Right. Apparently some dude murdered his girlfriend in here and then hung himself in that closet.” He points to a door you didn’t see when you walked in, dark and far away from the window. “Legend says at midnight, ring the bell three times and step into the closet with a candle. If the candle blows out, the spirit is with you. If it doesn’t, it didn’t work.” 

Grabbing the items from Soonyoung’s hand, you look at Vernon. “When you’re done, ring the bell three times again and say: Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.” 

“Thank you,” Vernon repeats gently, taking the bell from your hand. “I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Everyone else take candles,” you direct, voice rough with irritation. You glare at Soonyoung and Seungcheol in particular as you shove candles in their hands. “Stand in the four corners of the room. Did you bring sage, Soonyoung?”

“Bring what?”

“Of course not, why would you?” Everyone starts moving to the corner of the room, using matches to light their candles. The room feels unnaturally cold now, despite your long sleeves. Turning back to Vernon, you say, “It’s probably a stupid rumor.”

“Probably.”

“If your candle goes out, just ring the bell, say the words, and dismiss it.” 

“Right.” 

“You don’t have to do it, Vernon.”

His mouth kicks up at the corner. “I’m not worried, Lovecraft. You are.” 

Letting out a breath, you give a laugh that’s only half-there. You are nervous. You don’t like the idea of inviting a spirit into Vernon’s space, and though Soonyoung’s little ritual doesn’t really sound right, you’re not going to correct him. 

Still, you feel unsettled as you light your own candle and then Vernon’s. He cradles it in his hands as you escort him to the door. Tucked under your arm is the canister of salt. Crouching down, you pour the salt in a thick white light in front of the door, careful to ensure that there are no breaks and that it covers the entire entryway from corner to corner.

“Be careful when you step over it and when you open the door,” you instruct, standing up. The candle in your hand flickers unsteadily. “Don’t break the line. The idea is that if Soonyoung’s stupid summoning works, the spirit can’t get through the salt.”

“Banishing and all that,” Vernon recalls with a smile. Your heart flips. “I remember.” 

“Come on, you only have a minute!” Soonyoung calls eagerly. 

Shooting him a glare that silences him, you turn back to Vernon. “Ring the bell three times. Thank you, I dismiss thee. Go in peace.”

“Got it.” 

Unsettled you shuffle back from the door a little bit. You don’t go to a corner of the room like you’ve asked everyone else, unwilling to totally leave him by himself. Heart hammering, you hold your candle in front of you, cradling the warmth like a second heart. 

Vernon is unbothered. You can see it in the loose set of his shoulders and the way he sighs, already tired of Soonyoung’s antics. The party downstairs feels a million miles away as you watch Vernon stand in front of the closed closet door, looking up at it, unimpressed.

“It’s midnight,” Joshua whispers from the corner. 

Vernon doesn’t make any sound that he’s heard Joshua, but he lifts the little bell in his hand. It’s a hand bell, the wood grip worn and cracked. You wonder where Soonyoung got it from, having half a mind to ask him when the first clear ring of the bell disrupts your thoughts. 

The note sings through the air, your blood turning to ice in your veins. It feels like your pulse is throbbing in your neck as Vernon rings the bell hard a second time, the sound chasing the echo of the first. The third ring feels like a tremor in the air, warbling as Vernon quickly sets the bell on the floor, careful not to extinguish his candle flame. 

You hold your breath when he sets his hand on the doorknob. No one makes a sound as he twists it open. He pulls on the door and it comes away with a silent swing. The darkness on the other side is gaping, like there’s no back to the closet, just a wide hole of nothing. 

Vernon doesn’t seem to mind. He steps over the line of salt carefully until he’s in the middle of the closet, pivoting to face you. The orange flicker of his candle casts a haunting glow over his skull face. You swallow down a brief moment of fear before he winks and leans forward to pull the door shut.

For a long moment, there’s nothing. You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the thudthudthud so loud you swear everyone else in the room can hear it. No one moves, everyone fixated on the door. The silence is so piercing that your ears start to ring, the sound of the party completely unreachable over your mounting anxiety. 

“Well?” Soonyoung whispers somewhere behind you. “I guess it didn’t work.” 

Vernon begins pounding on the door. Someone screams behind you followed by a bunch of curses. You leap forward, heart in your throat as Vernon screams something unintelligible on the other side. You drop your candle, completely throwing caution to the wind as you grab the doorknob and twist. 

It doesn’t move.

“Vernon?” you ask, voice spiking with fear. “Let go of the doorknob, let me turn it. Vernon!”

The pounding doesn’t stop. He is screaming in a way you’ve never heard before, his fists rattling the door against the frame. You shriek his name back, yanking at the door frantically, your panic mounting as he screams and- 

When the door opens, you nearly fall backward with the force of it, stumbling over your feet. Soonyoung steadies you, to your surprise. You hadn’t realized he had left his corner of the room to help, his hand warm and firm. 

Vernon stands on the other side of the door, mouth pressed in a firm line. 

“You fucking asshole,” Soonyoung swears, throwing his unlit candle at Vernon. Vernon laughs, dodging it. “You fucking suck.”

“Yeah, well don’t ask me to do stupid shit.” Vernon steps out of the closet, eyes dropping to you. His mirth is edged with something sharp, a glint in his eyes that is wholly unfamiliar. “I was kidding.”

“You fucking asshole!” You screech at him, slamming your hands into his chest and knocking him back a little. He smirks and says nothing, letting you hit him a few times. “Why would you do that to me? What is wrong with you?” 

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, you sound really fucking sorry.” Anger sours your mouth. Turns your words to poison. Your throat tightens up and you feel the telltale sign of tears, equal parts livid, embarrassed and offended that Vernon would do such a thing. “Fuck you, Vernon.”

Someone laughs awkwardly as you storm off. Vernon calls your name but you ignore him, bolting down the hall and down the stairs. The wood creaks uncertainty under your feet but you don’t care. You want to be anywhere but here, the hot lick of embarrassment burning your heels as you go. 

You blow past Chan on your way out, his bleary eyes following you. “Nooo,” he whines. “Hot goth, come back to me!”

“Shut up, Chan!” You scream, slamming down the steps as you go.

People nearly dive out of your way, swiveling to watch the wake of your wrath as you leave the party. You ignore them, not wanting anyone to see the hot tears that spill over as you hit the dirt road, boots crunching. 

It’s hard to tell what’s worse. The fact that Vernon had played a joke on you he knew you wouldn’t like, or the way you had panicked and lost all resolve to be the one in charge. Both feel awful, but the sting of Vernon’s joke is the sharper of the two, cutting you to the quick.

Vernon has never dared to do something like that in your entire friendship. You have no idea why he did it now. Was it because he had an audience? Was he drunk? Was he actually like the members of his fraternity he associated with? 

You had no idea, which only made things worse. Above anyone else, you thought you knew Vernon best. But perhaps, you didn’t know Vernon at all, which was far worse than any sort of haunted spirit you could imagine. 

-

The next morning, you don’t hear from Vernon. It makes your blood boil, a nasty feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as you put your phone on Do Not Disturb. You put on a big set of headphones, blaring music to keep you sane as you set about cleaning your apartment furiously. 

It’s an okay distraction. The lull of clinical cleaning is nice and the music soothes the sting that nips at your heels like an incessant hound. When you run out of things to clean, though, you’re forced to face the fact that it’s nearly evening and Vernon still hasn’t said anything to you.

You don’t want to text him first. Your pride is wounded from the night before and you’re shocked he hasn’t apologized - he should apologize. The silence only makes you angrier, and with nothing left to clean in your apartment, you decide to think of all the things you’re going to say to him when he does finally reach out to you. Because you’re not saying anything first. 

Vernon’s radio silence makes it nearly impossible to sleep. You toss and turn in bed, unable to get comfortable, checking your phone and social media. It’s difficult to remember the last time you went over twenty four hours without hearing from Vernon, and the realization forms a pit in your stomach.

Maybe the silence was good. Maybe you were too reliant on his friendship, the one constant that you had grown far too fond of. Maybe he was into that girl last night, making a show of you because he wanted to make her laugh or maybe he was just putting you in your place.

The insecurity wars with your logic that Vernon wouldn’t do that. He’s never had a history of that kind of behavior before, and though he might tease you on occasion, you have never been the butt of his jokes or the target of his humor. 

Jokes like that aren’t even Vernon’s style. He doesn’t like cruelty, and that’s what pretending to be screaming for help was. It was cruel, and strange and it hurt. 

What hurts more is the silence continuing into a second day. By the late afternoon, though, the hurt has morphed into something else. You sit on your couch, staring at the phone on your coffee table. Your pride was begging you not to text him, but your worry was starting to chip away at you. 

Heaving a sigh, you pick up the phone. The tap of your nails against the glass screen is loud in your quiet apartment, the final rays of sun melting through the blinds while a candle burns on the counter. 

[You 5:14 PM]: So are we not talking? 

Setting the phone down, you immediately start making dinner. It doesn’t matter that you’re too early. You’re nervous waiting for his text back, which makes you feel ridiculous. Then you feel ridiculous for feeling ridiculous, validating yourself that it is totally okay to have feelings and be nervous.

“God,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m exhausting.” 

By the time you’ve had dinner and watched a full episode of Alice in Borderland, Vernon has said nothing. Worry eats away at the lining of your stomach. You pause the show and pick up the phone again, dialing his number.

On the other side of the line, the phone rings. And rings. And rings. 

You hang up when you get the automated voicemail, frowning. It’s all strange, and a nagging feeling tugs at your nervous system but you can’t put your finger on it.

Just as you set the dishes in the sink, your phone starts to ping. You’re grateful no one can see you in your apartment as you lurch to the phone, picking it up and unlocking it to see if it’s Vernon. It isn’t, but your heart starts to thud when your group chats with other friends and classmates in projects flood with the same rumor over and over.

A dead body had been found on campus. 

Vernon doesn’t live on campus, but it doesn’t stop you from calling him again. And again. And again. When the voicemail turns on a fourth time, you seethe into the phone, fingers gripping it so hard it feels like it’ll break. “Call me back you fucking asshole! Someone died on campus and you’re not answering and I just need to know it’s not you. Fuck!” 

Time passes and you get so desperate you do the one thing you didn’t want to do unless it was dire circumstances. You hit dial and bring your phone up to your ear, pinching the bridge of your nose to prepare yourself for when Mingyu answers the phone. 

“Am I dreaming?” he says by way of greeting. “It was the life guard costume, right?” 

“Mingyu, it wasn’t a costume. You were shirtless with board shorts.” 

“But it worked, right?”

“Have you heard from Vernon?” 

“Nah, why?” 

“Like you haven’t seen him at all since the party?” 

“Mmm. I don’t think so.” There’s a muffled sound on the phone like he’s trying to cover it when he yells, “Chan, have you seen that fuck head Vernon?” You wait impatiently, holding the phone further from your ear as Minguy yells. “Chan hasn’t seen him either.” 

“Isn’t that weird? I haven’t been able to get a hold of him.”

“Nah, I mean we never really see him. Usually he’s with you.”

“Right. And he isn’t with me, I haven’t seen him since the party.” 

“Well have you checked his apartment?” You hesitate. “Helloooo?”

“No.”

“Well. Do that. He’s probably sleeping or some shit, who knows.” 

“Great. You were so helpful,” you deadpan.

Mingyu sounds genuinely happy when he says, “I’m so glad!”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything else. 

Chewing your nail, you stare at the wall, mind racing.  Mingyu has a point that it’s normal for them to never see Vernon. He is usually with you, or he’s solitary. There is little in between. He also has a point that most of the time if you were looking for Vernon, you’d just swing by his apartment. 

The thought of seeing him again makes you want to curl in on yourself, but your concern weighs out. You get dressed and grab your keys, trying not to let your fear of what you might find there keep you from leaving. 

Opening the door to your apartment, you get one foot out the door and then slam directly into Vernon. You reel backward, eyebrows shooting up as he steadies you by the elbow, equally surprised to see you as though he wasn’t at your doorstep. 

“Easy there,” he greets, a half smile on his face.

Vernon looks totally normal. He definitely doesn’t look like he was murdered, and he’s dressed in his usual jeans, plain black shirt, and a backwards hat. For a second, you just stare at him, totally shocked and utterly relieved he isn’t dead.

Then, the anger comes. 

You slam a hand into his chest, cursing at him. “Where?” Slap. “Have?” Slap. “You?” Slap. “Been?” 

He takes the blows in stride. His chest is firm beneath your palm, heart beating steadily. Alive. And now that you’ve established he’s not dead, you feel so much anger ripple through you that you don’t let him answer before you’re pivoting on your foot and storming back into your apartment.

The sound of the door closing behind you followed by his shuffling as he takes his shoes off tells you he hasn’t left. A small part of you curls in satisfaction with the domesticity of his arrival, but it is blotted out by the hurt and rage at the surface of your emotions.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You demand. It isn’t as eloquent as your practiced rant, but it’s something. “You better explain yourself. And quickly.”

Vernon’s dark eyes connect with yours, simmering. You feel your heart lurch as he slinks over to the kitchen, never taking his gaze off you. The back of your neck tingles. Vernon never keeps this much eye contact and it’s both thrilling and unnerving. 

“I want to apologize,” he murmurs, pitching his voice low. You watch with trepidation as he reaches out to gather your hand in his. He folds your fingers under his, pulling your hand to his chest. Your breath quickens, pulse throbbing as he cradles your fist to his chest, his heartbeat steady. “I fucked up. I wanted to fuck with Soonyoung but I did it at the expense of you, and for that I’m deeply sorry.”

Warmth spreads from his hand to yours. You don’t know what to make of the apology - it’s so unlike him. Vernon has no problem apologizing when he’s wrong, but he’s usually not so confident, so well spoken. You stare and stare, that pitless gaze of his pinned on you. 

“I just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You really hurt my feelings, Vernon.” His hands tighten around yours and he tugs a little, pulling you closer. It’s harder to think when you’re this close, fingers wrapped in his. “You really scared me and then you vanished for nearly three days. Why did you do that?” 

“I wasn’t feeling well and I slept most of the days away. Honestly.”

“You weren’t feeling well?”

He gives you a look. “I see the skepticism. I’m serious, I just… wasn’t myself. I tried to rest and I didn’t hear my phone and I’m sorry. Really.”

Vernon’s apology settles around you like a weight. You watch him, contemplating what to do next. He doesn’t look ill, his gold skin as flawless as ever, his rosy lips tucked under his teeth as he watches you, waiting. His heart thuds under your palm, his thumb absently brushing back and forth over the top of your hand.

Breathing becomes difficult. Vernon isn’t overly affectionate, but the way he presses your hand to his chest now sends you down a dangerous path. The desire for him bubbles just below your surface and you’re terrified it’ll boil over, exposing everything you’ve ever thought about him.

“Alright,” you say softly, pulling your hand from his. He lets you. “Don’t ever do something like that to me again. It was scary and I felt stupid. And I thought you were dead.”

“Why?” 

Gesturing to the couch, the two of you plop down, seemingly back to normal. You’re still a little off kilter, but you report back to Vernon what your classmates had been saying. He grabs your remote and turns on the news, settling close enough to you that your thighs brush against one another. You shoot him a questioning look but he’s fixated on the TV, leaning forward to press his elbows into his knees.

The reporter on the news confirms the body of one of your fellow students had indeed been found on campus. Names and details were not yet available, but they were interviewing students about whether or not they felt safe on campus. By the second interview, Vernon was turning off the TV and leaning back.

“Freaky,” you murmur, tapping the arm of the couch. “Weird timing, right?”

“How so?”

“We just had a Halloween party in a weird murder house.”

Vernon goes silent. You turn to look at him, eyes searching. He stares at you, again the eye contact unsettling. Even though it feels like your Vernon sitting next to you, there is an edge to him that’s new. You don’t know what to do with it, shifting in your seat a little.

“Forget the murder house,” he says eventually, flicking his fingers in dismissal. “That party sucked and I’d rather forget it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, eyeing him as he looks out the window. You swear he’s agitated, but you can’t pinpoint why. “Me too.”

-

Someone sitting down roughly next to you draws your attention away from your essay, barely audibly over the sound of Current Blue playing through your headphones. You raise a brow as Vernon slings his belongings on the table unceremoniously, uncaring how loud he is in the library.

You glance around, seeing that he’s attracted the attention of a few people at nearby tables, some scowling, others blushing. When you turn your gaze back to him, you see his mouth moving as he divests his bag of its contents, but you can’t hear him. 

Pulling your headphones from your head, you ask, “What?” 

“Can you help me with my organic chem assignment?” 

“I hate chemistry.” 

His mouth twitches as he opens his laptop. “Right, but you’re good at it. You’re the smartest person in school.”

Again, something nags at your instincts. You can’t pinpoint it, examining Vernon more closely. He looks totally normal, dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, and a jean jacket pulled over it. He’s without a hat today, his hair falling in messy strands over his brow as he sets up his area to study.

Sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “What?” 

“You seem different.”

“Different how?” He types on his computer to start bringing up his chemistry homework. “Different as in going to fail organic chem without your help?” 

“Oh shut up. I’m obviously going to help you.” 

His mouth is wicked when he grins. “Good.” 

When Vernon looks up at you, the world stops a little. His gaze today is fathomless, dark eyes smooth like the surface of a lake with no end. You tip into that gaze, letting yourself drown in it for a moment. Normally, Vernon would break eye contact by now, easily distracted or unrealizing that he’s got you stuck on him. 

Now, he doesn’t do that. He looks right back at you. Heat crawls up your neck and your breaths quicken. For the first time since you’ve known him, Vernon looks at you like he knows everything inside your locked-tight heart. 

You lick your lips and his gaze dips to your mouth. Inside your chest, your hummingbird heart hammers, threatening to break free. The corner of Vernon’s mouth tilts upward as his eyes meet yours again, and you watch, completely frozen, as he leans toward you. 

Vernon is so close you can smell the spicy cologne on his skin. It’s heady and makes you dizzy, and you watch, totally lost as he wraps his hand around the leg of your chair and tugs hard. You yelp, startling a few people around you as he yanks your chair next to his, your thighs pressed together. 

“What are you doing?” you whisper harshly at him, throwing an apologetic look at the people you’ve disturbed for a second time. 

“How are you going to help me from over there?”

“You could have asked me to move my chair.” 

The problem isn’t that he moved your chair. Not really. The problem is how close he is, leg pressed against yours and elbows touching as he shrugs and turns his computer screen toward you. The problem is how at ease he is with you nearly on top of him, his lazy smile making your thoughts tangle and your breath quicken. 

This Vernon is still the one you’re used to but there’s something about him that keeps you on edge. Keeps you looking at him when his hand brushes against yours to grab a pen, or when he leans back and puts his arm across the back of your chair, idly playing with the hood of your jacket.

It’s almost like he’s flirting, and you spend half the time stumbling through his homework, barely able to assist him in a meaningful way because you’re busy decoding the subtle touches and the light teasing. You feel yourself blush more and look the other way to collect yourself more in the hour you help him than you have your entire friendship, unsure what’s happening or how to handle it. 

Homework completed, Vernon stares off into the distance, his finger twisting in the string of your hoodie absently as you try to write the rest of your paper. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate like this, the intimacy more than you’re used to. 

“You’re very distracting today,” you comment as you reference a text to the right of your screen. “Are you aware of that?” 

He hums. “This is hardly a distraction. I could try harder, though.”

You cut a glance at him. He seems utterly serious, any sort of mirth nonexistent in his expression. There’s just that shadowed gaze, that spark of something right where you can’t reach it. You abruptly stand, surprising him as you knock his arm away from you and clear your throat. 

“I need a different text. It’s downstairs, though.” 

“I’ll come with you.” You raise your brows and he shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” 

“Sure.” 

Without another word, you pivot on your heel and nearly run for the far set of stairs that lead to the subterranean level of the library where all the old texts and books exist. Vernon follows you at a casual pace, still totally at ease despite the fact that you’re obviously unraveling.

You have no idea what his sudden interest in you is and it’s making you unspool, thoughts wild and racing as you reach the stairwell that leads down. 

Damp air greets you as you start down the steps and it smells like wet carpet. You cringe, hating every time you have to come here. It’s always poorly lit and damp, not at all what one would expect from a library trying to keep books from molding. But no one really comes down here anyway, only the history majors and people like you, who require weird books long retired from the main shelves.

It’s eerie in the old stacks. There are lamps above head casting a burnt orange glow over the green, shag carpet but otherwise it’s nearly impossible to see in the shadowy parts of the room. You certainly could never read a book down here. 

Vernon is silent behind you but you can feel him, his gaze burning into your back as you navigate toward the last set of rows. As you approach, you hear a sound, stopping you dead in your tracks. Vernon crashes into you, nearly knocking you over but his hands grab you, steadying you and holding you close to his chest. 

For the first time today, you’re able to ignore his nearness in favor of straining your ears for the sound you heard, a small whimper, perhaps. You hear it again, distinctly human. Your heart starts to pound as you remember that just the day before there was a body found on campus, mind racing with thoughts as you stand rooted to the spot, Vernon pressed against you.

Craning your head, you look up at him. His expression is unreadable as he looks at you through long lashes, face shadowed. There’s a soft bang, like someone knocking something over. He looks over your head and back at you, shrugging his shoulder as if to say your choice. 

Slowly, you move forward. Vernon keeps close, his heat radiating behind you like a furnace as you creep through the last few rows of shelving. As you near the third one, you stop and peer around the corner, eyes trying to adjust in the shitty lighting. 

What you see has you snapping back around the stack, mouth dropping open. Vernon, curious, leans around you to peer around the stack. He raises his brows and steps backward, mouth pressed in a firm line to conceal his laugh. 

In the next row over is a girl you vaguely recognize, naked from the waist down while someone who is very much not her boyfriend, pumps their fingers between her legs. Slapping Vernon’s chest you point toward the door, silently screaming at him to turn around and hightail it out of there. 

Vernon, for a second, bites his lower lip and wags his eyebrows at you, suggestive. You glare and shove his chest. He goes easily, grinning at you playfully as he turns on his heel and heads back up to the main floor. 

When you reach your table, you drop down in the chair, totally shocked. Vernon drops down next to you, laughing. “Listen, when the urge hits, I guess.”

“I guess,” you agree sharply, shaking your head. “That was not her boyfriend, though.”

“No shit?” 

“Yeah. She’s dating some dude in Sigma whatever.” 

Vernon’s gaze turns sharp and his eyes trail back toward the far side of the library, resting on the stairs. “Interesting.” 

“Not really. That seems to happen a lot among you Greek lifers.” 

“I would never do that.” The severity of his declaration has you looking up from your notebook. Vernon’s expression is cutting, his jaw flexing. “I would never participate in infidelity. Ever.” 

“I didn’t mean you, Vernon.” 

“I’m not like that.” 

You soften a little, guilt tugging at you. So often you remember that Vernon isn’t like a lot of the people around him and grouping him in is unfair and insensitive. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He nods once, turning from you to pack up his stuff. Somehow, you can’t help but feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. 

-

“Oh shit,” Vernon mutters. You look up from where you’re flipping a grilled cheese in the pan. He holds his phone out to you from where he leans against his kitchen counter. “They found another body. Same MO or whatever as the first.” 

“No way?” 

Putting down the spatula, you grab his phone from him where he has the article pulled up. Sure enough, there’s been another murder on campus. Your eyes drink in the details, similar as before: student victim, stab wounds, message written on the wall. 

“What is the Hello Darling Murder?” you ask, more to yourself than Vernon. “It’s linked here as a reference to these being copycat murders.” He says nothing. You read out loud, “The Hello Darling Murder is a case of a murder suicide that happened in the same town in 1979. It was the town’s first violent domestic crime in years, and drew national media attention for the gruesome crime scene in which a message had been written on the wall in blood.” 

Vernon makes an amused sound. You look up at him sharply, staring. He has his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the floor with a mildly bemused expression. You kick him and he looks up at you. “What?”

“Why are you laughing? That’s not funny.”

“The way people sensationalize murder is weird.” 

“I mean, I agree. But what is funny?”

“It’s not funny as in funny ha ha,” he clarifies. “It’s funny stupid. The media is going to sensationalize this and turn it into an entire thing.” 

“Yeah, well. That’s their job.” 

Off put by his dark mirth, you turn back to the article, reading further. You skip over the old murder, more interested in the details of the two new ones. Your heart seizes in your chest when you see the name and picture of the second victim, stomach roiling. 

He sees your expression, pushing off the counter toward you, hands shooting your arms. “What? What’s wrong?” 

In any other scenario, you’d be overwhelmed by the sudden care and affection. Now, you just turn the phone toward him, showing him the photo. “It’s that girl from the library. Her name was Sidney. She’s the one I told you was cheating on her boyfriend.” 

Nothing registers in his face when he looks at the phone, his hands still resting on your arms lightly. He looks away from the screen and at you instead, a sharpness to his gaze that’s there so often you’re starting to grow used to it.

“You’re burning the grilled cheese, Lovecraft.” 

-

Mosquitos nip at your skin as you walk down the narrow path between trees. You slap your hand against your neck again, muttering under your breath. Vernon chuckles next to you, keeping his pace even as you struggle to step over a fallen tree branch. 

You hate the woods at night. It’s not your first time going to a bonfire deep in the woods off campus, but you don’t know why you keep coming back. Tripping over another branch, Vernon catches you by the arm and steadies you, stopping to make sure you’re okay before he lets go.

Scratch that. You do know why you keep coming back. For as long as you’ve been friends, you’ve been Vernon’s permanent plus one to all of his parties, formals and events, even if both of you hate going. It’s become a weird obligation to show up at things like this as a pair. 

They aren’t always terrible, you have to admit. When Mingyu isn’t absolutely hammered, he’s mostly tolerable to be around. Soonyoung isn’t bad either, though you’re still pissed off at him for the Halloween party incident, unwilling to talk to him. 

But nights like this where you have to trek out into the middle of the woods using your phone’s flashlight to navigate, you sort of loathe your unspoken oath to attend with Vernon. 

Instead of focusing on the distaste and the inherent anxiety the shadows of the trees give you, you let Vernon help you slide down a ditch and climb up the other side. His fingers are firm on your wrist, not quite holding your hand but keeping you connected. 

Your skin is warm and tingles when he lets go, deeming it safe enough to let you walk yourself. It’s easier to see now, too, the orange light of the massive bonfire casting a circle of orange glow that only grows as you near the party. 

Party is perhaps too strong of a word for it. There can’t be more than twenty people in the small clearing surrounding the roaring fire the Soonyoung tends to, foldable chairs and coolers arranged in a circle. Chan is trying to roast a marshmallow and failing, the white snack immediately catching fire and singing in the heat of the fire. 

Mingyu whistles when he sees you, catching your attention to wave you over to a pair of seats by him and Chan. You make your way there, navigating through groups of people clutching plastic cups and stepping over various sizes of coolers. 

The heat from Soonyoung’s inferno is nearly unbearable, making you cringe back as he adds something that cracks and pops, sending bits of orange ash floating toward the sky. 

“Jesus Christ, Soonyoung!” Seungcheol complains from his seat where a girl sits on his knee. “Enough, it’s fucking hot!” 

“Sorry,” Soonyoung answers, sheepish. 

Backing your chair away from the fire a little, you sit down and curl into the folding chair, accepting the drink Vernon hands you before moving his chair closer to yours and sitting down. A shiver ripples through you at the cool can in your hands. You crack the top and take a sip, trying to cool down from the blast of heat you’d taken while passing the fire.

Mingyu turns to you and Vernon as Chan pops a burned marshmallow in his mouth, the two of them immediately launching into discussions of the murders. You shift uncomfortably in your chair, listening as they recount the details in the news mixed with the rumors on campus. 

So far, two bodies have been discovered and linked together. The authorities don’t want to call it a serial killer, attempting to avoid a media craze and inspiring the killer to go on a spree, but denying the murders are connected is impossible.

You’re unsure what the victims have in common. The first had been a male senior who was in the business track, discovered by the dorms near the lake on campus. The second had been the girl you’d seen in the library in her apartment off campus, and Sidney had been in the education track and a junior. 

Neither of them were friends. You don’t go to a large university, but there are enough students that it’s normal to have a ton of people that you don’t know. From what anyone can tell, there was nothing the two victims had in common.

Except that they’d been murdered by someone who had left a bloody Hello Darling written at the crime scene.

A chill sweeps over you as Mingyu mentions the Hello Darling Murderer. It was the same story as before - a man had murdered his girlfriend in the 70s, a shocking and violent domestic crime that had unsettled the citizens and local university. He’d promptly killed himself after that, leaving only a bloody Hello Darling on the walls.

Authorities didn’t even know who the blood had belonged to - it took them so long to realize the couple was missing before they did a wellness check that by the time they investigated, they’d been dead a week. 

Vernon snorts at that and mutters something about the ineptitude of law enforcement. You cut your eyes at him. Though you agree, Vernon is usually the last person to make degrading comments - or comment at all really. 

Not for the first time in the last two weeks, you can’t help but sense that honed edge to him he has now. You’ve attributed it to him moving with more confidence, talking to people directly and making actual eye contact. You don’t know where the sudden swell in self-conviction has come from, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t look good on him.

Still, it’s got you a little uneasy, trying to adjust to this version of him. 

The topic shifts to football and you find yourself tuning everyone out, sipping your cider and staring at the fire as it warms your feet. More people arrive and drag chairs up. Someone hauls a few kegs into the firelight, cheers going around the fire.

Vernon stands and holds his hand up for your empty can. You give it to him wordlessly and he heads to get you a refresh, tossing the trash into one of the trash bins.

Turning to Mingyu as he goes, you ask quietly, “Has he seemed different to you lately?” 

“Who?”

“Steve Jobs,” you deadpan. “Vernon, obviously.”

“I don’t think so? He’s around a lot more lately and actually talks to us.” Mingyu pauses, thinking as he cocks his head to the side. “I mean, I guess that is kind of weird for him. He also actually goes to places with us now.” 

“Exactly what I mean.”

“Hey! We are friends, you know?” 

You hum uncertainty, your attention trailing back to Vernon. You observe him, noticing all the little details that are different. He stands a little bit straighter, inserts himself in conversations where he didn’t before.

Now, he stands near the keg, nodding along to something the girl next to him is saying. They’re standing close - you realize it’s the same girl from the Halloween party that had been talking to him, except this time, he’s talking back. 

Vernon leans in close to her and says something, making her laugh. He bites his lower lip a little, watching her with half-lidded eyes. Your stomach turns a little, eyes glued as he brushes her arm when he reaches for the cup that Joshua hands him. 

Turning away from them, you tune yourself into Chan’s conversation, needing a distraction. You try not to count the minutes until Vernon returns. When he does, the girl is with him. He drags a chair over so she can sit on the other side of him. 

It’s close, their knees touching when he sits and hands her the drink he was holding for her. He turns and holds out your drink to you, which sloshes a little when you snatch the cup from his hand. He arches his brows but you say nothing, taking a large gulp and turning your back on him to ask Chan about football instead. 

“You watch football?” Chan asks cryptically. 

“Sure. Go Green Bay Ravens.” 

He stares. “Packers. Green Bay Packers.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing with you. In fact, if you want to tell me what’s what more often-”

You scoff. “Shut up, Chan!”

Stuck between Vernon flirting with the girl next to him and Chan and Mingyu being - Chan and Mingyu - sours your mood. You try to lose yourself in your cup, going mute as you stare at the fire. Vernon hardly notices the shift in your mood, leaning in to the girl as they chat. 

You can’t help but notice everything about them. It’s impossible not to see the way she leans into him, bumping shoulders when she laughs. He lets her, watching her with a gaze you can only describe as hungry. The grip on your cup tightens as he knocks their knees together when he shifts in his chair, leaving it pressed against hers. 

It reminds you of the way he’d behaved in the library with you, brushing against you on purpose, making his words come out in a playful pur instead of what you’re used to, and seeing him do it with her now makes you snap. 

You stand abruptly, drawing the attention of Chan and Mingyu but not who you want. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Need company?” Chan offers. It seems genuine, but you give him a sharp no before you’re walking away, sticks snapping underneath your boots as you go. 

Chill air licks your face as you get further from the fire. There are plenty of people dispersed throughout the general area, some people pulled far away for intimate conversations, others pulled away to pass a joint in a circle, the pungent smell chasing you as you pass them. 

Away from the smoke and the noise, you feel like you can breathe a little more. You find a fallen tree, thick enough to sit on. You test your weight on it first before deciding it’s safe, swinging your leg to straddle it and look off into the dark trees.

There’s just enough light from the silver moon above your head and from the distant fire to feel safe. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you hug yourself and close your eyes, breathing in deep. The fire smoke isn’t strong here, the air clean and crisp.

Opening your eyes, you look at the sky. This far out in the country, you can see the stars. Out of habit, you start mapping out all the constellations you know, eyes tracing Orion the Hunter. You skip over to Andromeda, counting each star before moving to the east to spot Cassiopeia. 

It reminds you of the time you taught Vernon all the different constellations. He’d been a silent and attentive listener, watching as you’d pointed them all out while sitting on a bench at the park. You’ve caught him drawing them more than once in his chemistry notebooks, little dots of perfect constellations memorized. 

An ache you’re familiar with fills your chest. It’s the same ache you had when you realized you had feelings for him but didn’t want to tell him. The same ache you had when he’d hurt your feelings on Halloween. The same ache as when you’d seen him actually look back at someone who's interested in him, for once. 

Crying seems silly, but suddenly you have the urge to, throat twisting as you stare at the sky and try to puzzle out the direction your friendship has gone since that night. As you sit on the tree, a prickling sense of awareness creeps up your spine, tugging at you. 

Looking around, you see nothing. You can generally see in a good circumference, but the sudden instinct that something or someone is watching you drives you to get off the branch, hitting the ground with both feet to stride back toward the fire. 

As you go, your foot gets stuck in a tangle of tree roots again, making you stumble. You curse, bending down through squinted eyes to untangle your foot. Your fingers are a little cold and shaking, anxiety creeping up slowly as you pull the weeds and roots away from your shoe. 

Something snaps behind you. Your fingers freeze, head whipping around to look for the source of the noise. Again, you see nothing but your heart is hammering. You don’t dare to breathe, holding your breath as you strain your ears to hear anything else. There’s only crickets and an owl in the distance, no more snapping branches.

In that moment, it occurs to you that you’ve decided to wander out in the woods at night and alone after two recent murders. The stupidity of your actions land like a blow.

Turning back around, you wrench your shoe free and stand up, nearly colliding with Vernon who leans backward to avoid smacking into you as you shriek in surprise, stepping backward. Vernon’s hand darts out to grab you, catching you and tugging you forward into him before you can lose your balance fully.

Heart hammering, your fingers dig into his biceps, keeping yourself standing as you hiss, “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing? You’re wandering out in the middle of the woods while there is an active serial killer in town.” 

“Oh please, like you noticed.”

He frowns. You drop your hands and try to step away from him, eager to put some distance between you. Vernon’s grip on you tightens though, keeping you where you’re standing. “I’m here, I obviously noticed.” You snort derisively and his grip tightens a little. “Is there something you want to say?”

You open and close your mouth, scowling at him. He’s never so direct you’re unsure how to approach the question. So you try for a little bit of honesty. “I wasn’t having fun.” 

“Okay, so let’s leave.”

“You look like you were having fun.” 

Silence hangs in the air. Vernon’s face is indecipherable. Then, “Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Your response is so fast that it even sounds practiced and hollow to you. It’s hard not to wince, hoping that as always, he doesn’t see through your cellophane defense. Vernon’s touch drops from your biceps to your wrist, delicate. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, instead staring at the buttons on his jean jacket. 

“I noticed you were gone.” His voice is gentle, a low purr. You dart a quick glance at him to see the intensity of his gaze. It makes you squirm, unsure how to respond. “I always notice when you’re gone.”

“Alright. Well.” 

“I notice everything about you.” 

The way he says it is a soft whisper. A promise, a suggestion. Again, it feels like Vernon has discovered your loose thread, tugging lightly on it. If he tugs again, you think you might unspool all the way, showing him everything you don’t want him to see. 

It feels like he wants to, and that’s what scares you more. That suddenly he’s looking at you like he wants to see past the veneer of your words, like he’s ready to look inside. You hear the double meaning. It’s so terrifying that you look away from him, ready to hide. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whisper. 

“I’m not. If you’re not having fun, let’s go home. I came here with you.” He tugs your wrist. “Come on. You can’t be walking around out here alone with a killer on the loose, Lovecraft. I’ll be forced to fight them off.” 

The tension fades. You let out a breath and laugh, looking at him skeptically. “Yeah? You’re going to fight for me?” 

His grip on your wrist tightens. You wonder if he can feel the speed of your pulse under his thumb, the way it hammers when he smirks. “Yeah, I am.” 

-

Sal’s Pizzeria isn’t your favorite place to do school work. It’s too loud and bright, the promise of food is way too distracting for you to focus for much longer than a few minutes at a time, and usually your fingers are too slippery with pizza grease to type properly. 

You only have a narrow window to finish writing your paper before going to the bar for Jihoon’s birthday. You barely know him, but he’s someone Vernon is decently close enough too that you feel obligated to attend. More importantly, you’re finally almost done with your paper you’ve been working on for two weeks, eager to celebrate hitting submit. 

“You know that dude who was killed first was a rotten cheater?” 

The girls sitting behind you catch your attention. Your brows knit together and you turn your head a fraction to eavesdrop, eyes unfocusing on the words on your screen. There are four of them behind you that you don’t recognize but assume go to the same school as you, based on the attire and the backpacks. 

“Yeah! Sam told me about that. Apparently he was sleeping around with a bunch of freshmen. Maybe his girlfriend found out and went all psycho killer on him?” 

“Ew, how scummy. But what’s with the hello darling message shit? Can you say weird?” 

“I know, right?” 

Their words give you pause. The first victim had been someone known for his infidelity too? Turning back to your screen, you pull up your web browser and type in Hello Darling Murderer to the search. The original murder from the 70s hadn’t given you much thought beyond assuming someone was being a copycat, but now you feel something nagging at you. Something you’re missing. 

All of the top stories are of the recent murders. You amend your search to the 70s and get older articles and links to podcasts covering the initial incident. Clicking on a story from a reputable journal, you start reading in detail about the first murder and his victim, skin prickling as you go.

As an Occult Studies major, a lot of people think you’re into murder mysteries. In truth, you’re not. They have little to do with what you study, and you’ve spent countless times telling people that occult and people obsessed with true crime are two totally different things. You have no idea why they’re lumped together so often, but on more than one occasion you’ve had to explain you’re not interested in serial killers or their stories.

Except now. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you unwind the story of Thomas Ellswater, who had apparently murdered his girlfriend at the time before promptly killing himself. The initial investigation hadn’t dug up much, assuming that it was a case of domestic violence gone as bad as it could. 

But the journalist who had written the story had other details. Accounts from family friends that detailed Elsswater’s girlfriend, Maya, unhappy with their relationship. One even insinuated that she had been cheating on him for a long time, though with who, they were unsure. 

Further down in the article, you stop. Read the paragraph again. Look at the picture of the house. A sickly chill coats your skin as you lean forward, taking in the details of the house. You’ve seen it before, though your memory of it at night surrounded by floodlights and full of drunk college students makes it almost unrecognizable when you see it on the screen. 

Thomas Ellswater lived in the same house that you’d partied in on Halloween night, where Vernon had played that horrible prank in the closet. Thomas or Maya had been the haunting spirit Soonyoung had been attempting to summon.

And now someone was killing in the same exact style.. 

The server bringing you two trays of pizzas and a basket of fries breaks you from your trance. You close the article, a sick feeling in your stomach as you try to piece together the puzzle. Was it just a spurned lover who was paying homage to someone who related? Or was it a serial killer poking fun at the MO?

Vernon crashing into the seat across from you startles you. He gives you a grin, eyeing the pizza in front of him and rubbing his hands together. Rolling your eyes, you grab the red pepper flakes and salt, passing the latter over to him. 

“So I learned something weird today,” you venture, pulling a slice of pizza from the tray. 

“Tell me,” he answers over a mouthful of pizza, once again burning himself. You roll your eyes, shaking your red pepper onto your slice. “What is going on in the world of occult today?”

“Actually, not occult.” He gives you an appraising look, popping some fries into his mouth. “What, no salt today?”

He pauses, looking at the basket of fries. “Nah, I need to cut back on the sodium.”

“Good idea. Anyway, it’s about the murders.” 

“Do tell.”

“The girls behind me said the first victim was known for cheating.” 

“It’s college. Apparently there is a lot of that.” 

“But remember that day we saw Sidney in the library? She was cheating too.” 

“Right.” He rips into his pizza, gaze sharp as he looks at you. “So this town is full of a bunch of lowlife fucking cheaters.”

You flinch at his vehemence, leaning back in your seat. Vernon drops his gaze, tearing into his slice in silence. “Sorry,” he says after swallowing. “I’m hungry.”

“Right. As I was saying, I looked up that Hello Darling Murder.” 

He pauses, gaze flicking to you. “And?”

“And it was ruled as a case of domestic violence gone wrong, but there were some people who think the Maya Caravalo was cheating on Thomas Ellswater, who killed her.” 

“I’m sure cheating is the leading cause of crimes of passion.”

“In the house that we were in on Halloween.” 

Vernon frowns. “Ah. Weird.” 

He doesn’t elaborate. You watch him as he chews on more pizza, shoving fries into his mouth on occasion too. He seems totally at ease - and more normal than he’s been in weeks. You watch, mildly disgusted at the way college men eat. 

“That’s all you have to say?” You ask. “Weird.”

“It is weird.” 

“Kind of an insane coincidence.” 

He becomes still, only his eyes moving as he settles his inky gaze on you. For a second, you can’t help but think he looks a bit like the cat who ate the canary, eyes glittering. “So tell me what theory is in that pretty head of yours, Lovecraft.” 

Ignoring the way your heart leaps at him calling you pretty, you sigh, picking at the wooden table with a thumb nail. “I don’t really have one. I just think someone came across the original murder and thought I could write that at my crime scenes. I don’t study criminology, I can’t figure out motivation.”

“You’re the smartest person in school, Lovecraft. Try.” 

“I guess… I don’t know. The new killer was probably cheated on recently, came across what happened in the 70s, and has been taking out their rage on other adulterers because they feel some sort of kinship with Thomas. Maybe like finishing his work or ridding the world of a common enemy.” 

Vernon hums. “Maybe so. Do you think they deserve it?” You look at him sharply, mouth downturning. “The victims. Do you think they deserve to be killed for their infidelity?” 

“I don’t know that anyone is deserving of murder.” You chew the inside of your cheek, watching Vernon’s face for any sign of what he’s thinking. He’s totally closed off, a blank canvas. “This is why I’m in Occult Studies and not law, Vernon.” 

He gives a wolfish grin. “Touche. Come on, eat your pizza. We have a bar to go get drunk at.” 

-

The bar in question is teeming with people. You’re immediately overwhelmed, squeezing your way between chairs, tables and people as you navigate to your group of friends. Vernon keeps you close, his arm encircling your waist as pulling you to him as you go. 

He either ignores or doesn’t notice the sharp look you give him. Instead, he’s focused on keeping the two of you attached, shouldering his way through the crowd, the press of his fingers on your hip dizzying and steadying at the same time. 

At the far back of the bar, an entire section of people associated with Vernon’s fraternity crowd from wall to wall. Vernon manages to get you onto a stool at the bar top, shouldering one of the pledges off the seat with a narrow-eyed look. You raise your brows at him and he winks, leaning his elbow on the bar top to order you both drinks.

Spinning to face him in the stool, you give him a quick once over. You’d been so engrossed in your murdery mystery findings at the pizzeria that you haven't really looked at him until now. He looks good, dressed simply in dark jeans and a dark, long sleeve shirt that shows how broad he is. Has he always been that broad? 

Vernon catches you staring. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” 

He grins, accepting drinks from the bartender and sliding one over to you. You burn under the full weight of his attention as he pops his straw into his mouth. “Tell me.” 

“You look nice tonight.”

“You look nice every night.”

“Oh shut up.” 

“What?” he laughs. “I mean it.” 

“Whatever.”

Spinning in the chair again, you place your back to the bar, facing the crowd to watch people. Vernon is content to stand next to you in silence, both of you sipping your drinks as you observe the people around you. Someone jostles him a little closer, his arm shifting to lay across the bartop along your back. 

Heat creeps into your cheeks and you try to remain breathing normally. Vernon leaves his arm there, pressed against you but not exactly wrapped around you. There is a distinct difference, but this is still new. Still confusing. 

People who recognize you both come up and say hi. You keep the conversation polite and short, especially when you see the girl who has lingered at the last two parties slink toward you, her eyes only for Vernon. 

“Hi,” she yells over the crowd, totally ignoring you. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Why wouldn’t you? I’m friends with Jihoon.”

The girl opens and closes her mouth, lips pursed at that. You sense the serrated edged to Vernon’s words, casting a glance his direction. He’s not looking at her, eyes instead scanning the crowd. Uninterested. Even you know she didn’t literally mean she wasn’t expecting to see him - it was just a conversation starter. 

Using the opportunity to sip from your straw to hide your laughter, you have to admit you’re a little relieved to see Vernon missing social cues again. It’s more him, a Vernon that you're used to. Maybe a little meaner than usual, but this is closer. 

“Right,” the girl says. Her eyes flicker to you for the first time. “It’s his birthday, right?” 

“According to the giant sign in the corner and all the balloons, yes.” 

Okay, maybe it’s not entirely normal Vernon. Usually he isn’t so callous. In this case, you don’t mind, watching as she tries to puzzle out how to keep the conversation going. Vernon decides for you, turning from her to press his mouth close to your ear. 

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, breath hot against you. “I’m gonna greet Jihoon really quickly.” 

All you can manage is a breathy, “Alright.” 

Vernon finishes his drink and pushes off the bar, fingers dragging against you as he goes. He ignores the girl standing and watching, her eyes darting from you to him until he vanishes in the sea of bodies. Without Vernon there, she has nothing to do. She tilts her chin up, sucking up her pride and turns on her heel to walk a direction distinctly not the same way as Vernon.

Alone at the bar, you swivel in your seat to order you both another drink. You assume Vernon is drinking a whiskey coke, hoping that’s right as you flag down the bartender. While you wait, someone slips into the spot next to you. You turn, thinking Vernon’s already back only to find someone you definitely don’t know. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the loud voices and music. “Did not mean to get in your personal space, this spot was way smaller than I thought it was.” 

“That’s okay! Getting a spot kind of sucks.”

“No kidding.” He grins at you, turning his attention back to trying to get anyone to take his drink order. “How long do you think it’ll take for them to notice me?” 

“About seven years.”

“Yikes. I’m Seokmin, by the way.” You give him your name and he grins. “What brings you to this shit hole ass bar?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday. You?”

“A friend of a friend's birthday indeed.”

A bartender finally comes over to take Seokmin’s order. He leans forward to shout over the crowd, his shoulder knocking into yours. You don’t mind - he’s nice. He looks over at you, a question on his face. “You like tequila?”

“No!”

“Let me rephrase - want a shot of tequila?” 

“She doesn’t.”

Vernon slides behind you, his palm pressed flat to your back. You startle, looking up at him in surprise. He isn’t looking at you, his eyes zeroed in on Seokmin. You slide Vernon’s drink toward him, eager to dispel the sudden tension thrumming through him.

“Whiskey and coke?”

He looks down, eyes rounding out a little as he softens. “Mhmm. Thank you.”

Drink in hand, Seokmin turns to you both and waves. “Y’all have a good night!”

When he’s gone, Vernon leans against the counter again, his tone flat as he says, “He was nice.”

“He was, but what do you sound bothered by ?”

“Maybe I am.” 

“Why?” 

He lifts a shoulder. Instead of answering you, he picks up the lime in his drink and squeezes it, stirring it with his straw before taking a long pull straight from the rim of the glass. 

You nudge him. “I’m going to say this again: you’ve been different, lately.” 

“Different how.” 

“I don’t know. You talk more. You’re a lot more engaging. You’re a little…” 

“A little what?”

“Cockier?” He hims, eyes dropping down to your mouth. “Like that,” you point out, voice a little weaker. “You do that now, and you didn’t used to.”

“I always did. I’m just a little more obvious about it now.”

Tension crackles between the two of you. Your mouth feels dry as you watch him, reading the minute expressions of his face. Finally, when you can’t unpuzzle him, you say, “I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell if you’re coming onto me or if it’s some sort of game to you.” That makes him frown as he sips his drink again. Your fear and frustration clash, wrestling for dominance. “It makes things confusing.”

“Why didn’t you say so? I’m happy to clear things up.” 

You grip your glass, trying to keep your fingers from quaking. This moment feels like it’s all or nothing. Vernon puts it out on the table so easily, leaving the option to you. Either you can ask for clarity, or keep playing this new game of cat and mouse. But you have to decide. 

“I would appreciate it if you did,” you say eventually. 

Vernon nods and finishes the rest of the drink. He sets the glass down before he leans forward, hand going to the underside of your chin to lightly tip your face upward with his knuckle so he can press the world’s most gentle kiss to your mouth. 

You freeze. When he doesn’t pull away, lips soft and warm, you sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. He feels you relax, mouth curling in a smile against yours. He steps into your space without breaking the kiss, finding the space between your legs as his lips press firmer to yours. 

Vernon smells like his cologne and something distinctly him. It makes you dizzy, and the way he tastes like whiskey and lime makes the room spin. When he pulls away from him, you feel like you’re going to fall from the stool, leaning toward him. 

His hands grip your thighs, squeezing generously as he leans in and drags his mouth to your ear. “Does that clear things up?” 

“Actually, no?” 

His groan is throaty, turning into laughter as he buries his face in your neck. Your hands tentatively settle on his waist, a little hesitant. “I always said you were the smartest person at school, but maybe not.”

“Hey!” 

“Come home with me.” He feels your delay, laughing. “Come home with me because I like you. Is that clearer? Because I want you to come home with me, and I don’t want anyone else here.” 

Your heart goes bolting like a rabbit, running in circles. Vernon pulls away from you to study your face. You watch him for any sign that he’s kidding, that he doesn’t mean it. You find none. In its place, you only see honesty. Hunger. Fiery desire burning at the surface. 

“Really?” Your question is small. Vulnerable. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.” He tugs on your thighs. “I’m not playing games with you. Come home with me - I’ll prove I’m serious about you. You are what I want. I just had to be sure.” 

Lightheaded and heart slamming, you let Vernon pull you from the seat and lead you out of the bar. 

-

Vernon’s apartment on the north side of town is a place you’ve been a million times. You recognize all the cars in the parking lot, and you know exactly what building and floor belongs to him. You even recognize his neighbors come in mat that you’ve always hated. 

He catches you staring at it with distaste now, laughing as he shakes his head and inserts his keys. “You and that mat.”

One hand works the keys into the door while the other is stretched behind him, fingers linked with yours. Your hand is warm and your heart is still racing as he gets the door open, pulling you inside the dark of his home. 

“They could be inviting anything in,” you assert, a little breathless as he pulls you to his chest. He kicks the door shut, the frame rattling as it slams. “You should never have a doormat that just welcomes whatever shows up at your door inside. You could end up with a vampire in your home.”

“A vampire, huh?” Vernon ducks his head towards your neck, lips skimming your throat. Your fingers twist in the hem of his shirt, eyes fluttering closed as his teeth scrape against your pulse point. “Sounds scary.” 

“It is. There’s nothing to disprove that vampires exist.” 

Vernon bites down and you whine, melting into him. His laugh vibrates through his chest as his tongue presses to the bite mark, soothing the pain. His mouth closes over the spot and he sucks gently, sending a shiver through your body. 

“I promise the only thing biting you will be me.”

The full weight of his words hit you between the legs. You feel like putty in his hand as he navigates you to the island counter in his kitchen. He presses your back into it, careful not to jam you too harshly against the marble. 

Heat licks through your stomach as Vernon steals your lips in a kiss. It’s different from the gentle one he gave you at the bar. This one drinks you in, pries you open and lets you spill out into him, all the feelings and bottled thoughts you have free for the taking.

You get lost in him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him close, fingers sliding through his hair. He moans and you respond, curling your fingers to scrape your nails against his scalp. His hips twitch forward, pinning you between him in the counter as he sucks your bottom lip harshly. 

“Be careful,” he warns, a hand drifting from your chin to your neck. He doesn’t wrap his fingers around your throat, but his hand rests there, heavy and wanting. “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

You steal a kiss, nipping his bottom lip sharply. “Don’t be.”

His resounding groan makes you dizzy. His kisses become rough and heated, using his tongue as much as his teeth. He presses you hard into the countertop now, the marble digging into your back as he nearly folds you in half with the weight of his body. 

It feels like the air has left the room. Vernon is the only thing you need to breathe in, fueled by the way his tongue licks into you, the gentle squeeze of his hand at the base of your throat. His fingers press against your pulse, not enough to cut off any airflow but enough to send a bolt of pleasure and thrill through you. 

“You have no idea,” Vernon pants, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your jawline. “How long I’ve waited to do this. I could have had you this entire fucking time, but I held myself back.” 

His thumb presses under your jaw, angling your head to the side. With more access to your throat, he peppers you in bites and kisses, tongue soothing each sting. “I have wasted so much time,” he mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Being a fucking coward.”

“Don’t say that,” you gasp as his other hand presses between your legs. The ache in your cunt is already throbbing, and he does nothing but make it worse by adding pressure but doing nothing more. “Please don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” He pulls away from you. Before you can complain, he gives you a quick kiss, tugging you toward his room. “I shouldn’t have waited until I had a little… encouragement to do this. I’m going to give you everything you want, love.”

A quiver slithers down your spine at the shortened version of your nickname. The new endearment hits home when you see the way he looks at you, the want and desire more unrestrained than anything else you’ve ever seen on his expression. 

Hand in yours, he pulls you into the bedroom, spinning you to sit you down on the edge of his bed. You look up at him through your lashes, admiring the shape of his face and the way you can just barely see his freckles in the soft glow from the nightlight in his bathroom as he slots himself between your knees. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Vernon whispers, voice like velvet. He slides a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze even higher as he watches you, eyes blown. “I’m entirely devoted to you and you only. You know that, right?” 

Vernon’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You open your mouth on instinct and he growls low in his throat. He pushes his thumb past your swollen lips, pressing down on your tongue. You taste the lime from earlier and the hint of salt on his skin, closing your mouth as you suck gently. 

“Fuck,” he swears, thumb pressing harder. “You really have been a little slut for me this entire time, huh?” 

Hearing Vernon say it in that deep, whispered voice of his does something to you. There’s a note in his voice you’re unfamiliar with, a dangerous edge that you want to lean into and cut yourself on. So you nod, lashes fluttering as you bat them up at him. 

“Yeah, thought so.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it spit-slicked down your chin. “Lay back on the bed for me, love.” 

You do so immediately, shuffling backward so that you can lean back. The sheets smell like him and you tilt your head to the side, nuzzling his comforter a little. You try to ground yourself, feeling a little staticky as he kneels on the bed, mattress dipping. 

Vernon plants a knee between your legs, leaning forward to cage you in with a hand on either side of your head. His kiss is all consuming, any sense of delicacy gone. You let him devour you, your hands pulling at his belt loops to bring him closer.

He’s not close enough, never close enough. 

Having him like this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s familiar, the scent of him and the warmth of his skin and the little sounds he makes but he’s also entirely new. He is rougher than you imagined, sharper than you thought. He drags his blunt nails over your collarbone as he pulls your shirt away from your neck, giving his mouth access to litter your skin with kisses. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, curious as you press the pads of your fingers into his stomach. You feel the muscles flex and he hums low in his throat, enjoying your exploration as you slide your hands around the perfect taper of his waist to the small of his back. 

Vernon slides his knee higher, pressing it directly to your clothed cunt. You twitch against him, a questioning sound leaving your lips as you breathe in sharply. 

“Go ahead,” he mumbles against your chest, one pulling sharply at your shirt. You hear the seams rip and you don’t even care. “Take what you need, love.” 

The rawness of his words fucks you up. You do as he says, rolling your hips against his thigh for any sort of pressure and friction. It helps relieve the tension a little, but not nearly enough. Your breathing turns ragged as he harshly bites and kisses his way to your bra. 

Yanking hard, he rips the rest of your shirt. You let out a throaty laugh and he looks up at you, eyes like burning coals. “What’s so funny, hmm?”

“I did not expect you to be able to rip my shirt.” 

“Oh?”

The dangerous note in his voice makes your hips stutter and stop. He runs the tip of his tongue around the soft curve of your chest, watching you all the while and fuck. If you’d realized that this was the type of Vernon you’d get, maybe you’d have been braver sooner. Because this Vernon is something else, confident and cocky and ravenous. 

“Want me to rip this too?” He teases, teeth pulling at the cup of your bra. Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath, a little overwhelmed. “Say the word.”

“Maybe salvage some of my clothing, Vernon.”

“Fine. I will not salvage you, though.”

You believe him. Nothing about the way Vernon peels your bra off of you is gentle. Nothing about the way his hand cups your breast, squeezing before he lowers his mouth to give a generous suck to your nipple feels like he has your survival in mind. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let Vernon have his way. It feels like he’s peeling you open layer by layer, plucking every string connected to your pleasure that he can find.

His mouth is a weapon, tongue lazily circling your pert nipple until you’re whining and squirming under him. He laughs and drags his tongue to the other side of your chest, licking his way to your peak to tease you further. 

“Shit,” you whisper, one hand leaving his back to tangle in his hair. You don’t know if you’re pulling him away or pushing him closer - maybe both. “Vernon.”

His teeth scrape your nipple and you whine. He shuts you up by closing his mouth around you, sucking sharply. When he pulls away with a loud pop, you let out a shaky breath. 

“You can barely keep it together,” he observes. He placed closed mouth kisses on your stomach as he descends, pulling his knee from between your thighs. “What are you gonna do when I eat you out, huh?”

Flushed and embarrassed, you cover your face as his tongue licks the skin above your jeans. “Cat got your tongue, love?” 

“You - you’re - ugh!”

He chuckles, popping the button of your jeans. “I’m ugh?” 

“You know what I mean.” 

Vernon tugs on your jeans. You try to lift your hips to help him, but your thighs are like jelly already, turning you useless. He coos at you, pressing a kiss to your hip gently. “I got you.” 

Unsure if he means about your inability to get out your fucking pants or he understand what you mean, you let him peel them down the rest of the way. His hands skate up your calves, squeezing and firm as he sinks to his knees on the floor. 

Bracing yourself, you brave a look between your legs where he presses your thighs open gently with his palms. Veronon’s eyes are on the apex of your thighs, entirely focused on where your underwear stick to your folds. He licks his lips, hand brushing up and down your thighs. 

His gaze flickers to you. For a moment, the two of you just stare at one another. You feel overly exposed, naked from the waist up, cool air pebbling your spit-slicked chest. The weight of his gaze presses you down like a physical thing, but it’s comforting. Warm. Reassuring. 

The air is charged between you as he keeps watching you while he drags a hand up and between your legs. He presses a thumb between your folds and you whimper, feeling the way he prods at your aching entrance, only the thin fabric keeping him out.

“Are you always this wet for me?” he asks, thumb slowly dragging up the damp patch to your clit. He digs in sharply, pressing firm enough that your pleasure spikes and your hips pop off the bed. He hisses at you and smacks your thigh, making you lower your ass to the bed again. “Everytime we were together, did you get like this?” 

It takes effort to rasp, “Sometimes.”

Vernon hooks his thumb in the side of your pants, pulling. The fabric peels back achingly slow, cool air hitting your cunt and making you whine. He hums thoughtfully, placing the fabric to the side.

“Like what times?” he questions, blowing cool air against you. You thrash and he laughs, pinning you down by the hips. “I’m curious. Elaborate for me.” 

“Umm.” 

It’s the only word you can get out before he renders you speechless, the flat of his tongue sliding slowly up your pussy. You go boneless, breath stuck in your chest as his tongue lazily circles around your clit and drags back down. He repeats the motion, the slow-soft brush of his tongue driving you insane instantly. 

“You’re not elaborating,” Vernon notes. He presses a kiss that is far too sweet for the moment to your bundle of nerves. “I wanna know all the times you were with me where you felt like this. Go on.” 

“I don’t,” you breath catches when his tongue curls through your folds. He’s soft and slow as he licks you, a lazy smoothless to it that makes you see stars. “Know how to speak when you’re doing that.” 

“Should I stop?” 

“No.”

“Try,” he murmurs, dipping his tongue in your dripping entrance. “I want to know.” 

Fuck. Trying to pull together any coherent thoughts is like wading through thick water. You’re distracted by the way Vernon’s mouth closes on you, sucking gently. He takes his time, fingers pressed into the meat of your thighs as he keeps you open, enjoying you fully. 

“I - shit - I guess sometimes when we go out,” you manage. “I like when you wear your hat backwards.” 

He flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit, making you clench, toes curling. His mouth is wet and warm, closing around your throbbing bundle and sucking gently. Your hips lift but his grip is firm, keeping his mouth to you. 

When he pulls away, the suction is audible, a string of spit and arousal connecting his lips to your pussy. “Taste so fucking good,” he whispers. You think it’s more to himself than you, his tongue carving through you again. “Tell me more.” 

“Halloween night. When you were in skull makeup.”

His tongue starts circling your clit again, the indirect stimulation driving you wild. Your hands tangle in the sheets, sweat slicking your skin as Vernon works to firmer motions. You realize he knows exactly how you like it, gentle to start, working you to firmer motions, a little hungrier. 

It makes him all the more lethal, the way he can just figure you out like that. “Yeah?” he asks, sucking harshly against you. “Wanted me to fuck you like that?” 

“God, yeah.”

“You should have asked. I’ll fuck you however you want.” 

“Didn’t think you liked me.” 

Vernon is too busy to answer, increasing the attention of his mouth. Your hands slide down to his, nails digging into the tops of his hands where he holds you. He lets go of your hips in favor of linking your fingers, pressing your clasped hands to the mattress. 

His name drips from your mouth, eyes falling shut as you sink into the pleasure deep in your stomach. He makes little sounds of pleasure, grunting and groaning as his mouth becomes more fervent. You feel yourself toeing the edge of an orgasm, so so so close.

He can tell too. He finds a harsh rhythm, pulling you closer and closer to your high with each sharp suck of his lips. You twist in his grip, fingers squeezing his so hard you think you might break his hands. You don’t, feeling your breath catch and hold as you come hard, thighs squeezing as you writhe on the bed.

You draw in a ragged breath, desperate for air as he kisses your cunt once. Twice. His slick mouth presses against your thighs, teeth dragging against soft flesh as he mouths his way to your knee. He gives you a moment, letting you pant against the sheets. 

Fabric sticks to your skin as you wiggle against the bed. He stands up, crawling up you again to find your mouth. You lean forward, catching him in an open-mouth kiss that is more tongue than anything, your taste heady in the heat of his mouth. 

“Turn over on your stomach for me,” he groans. His hands squeeze your side as he gives you room to follow his direction. You do, but not without his help, your orgasm making you a little clumsy. “Can you get on your knees for me?”

“Maybe?”

“I’ll help you in a second.”

Instead of moving, you lay slumped on the bed, fully intending to let him do the work. You turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off, revealing firm, tan skin. Vernon is beautiful, the sleek lines of his body reminding you of a painting. He kicks off his jeans before shuffling back on the bed behind you, looking down and snorting.

“Didn’t want to move like I asked?” You shake your head. He pats your ass lightly. “Come on, darling. Help me get these panties off or I will rip them off.” 

Huffing, you do as he says. He does lend you his strength hauling you up by the arm as you lean up on your knees. The room is cold, making you shiver but he presses your back to his chest, mouth dusting kisses over your shoulders. 

Vernon’s fingers dance along your sides until he’s pulling your underwear the rest of the way down your thighs, helping you kick out of them. When he’s got you full naked, he presses your back to him, crowding your space as he angles your head to kiss you slowly. Fully. 

Behind you, his cock presses firmly into your ass. You push back against him, putting pressure against his shaft. He hisses, biting your shoulder harshly. 

“Careful,” he growls, teeth at your neck. “Or I won’t be very nice.” 

“Want you, though.”

“You’ll have me when I say you can.” 

One of his hands slides up to your neck, gripping your throat lightly. He pauses, leaning to catch your gaze. His eyes are round and soft. Honest. Open. “This okay?” He questions gently. He gives a little squeeze to indicate what he means. You nod eagerly, reaching a hand to close around his, making him press harder. “Fuck you’re perfect.” 

You lean your head back against his chest as he holds you by the throat, one of your hands dropping to his elbow, the other reaching behind you to sink your fingers in his hair and tug. The sound he makes is feral, the hand he has placed on your waist dropping between your legs, fingers pressing between them. 

“Oh,” you squeak, feeling his deft tough on your clit. His movements are aided by your earlier release, fingers circling smoothly as he squeezes your throat, thumb pressed perfectly, to make it just a little harder to breathe. “Shit.” 

“Can you tell me a safe word? Not gonna go hard, just wanna know if it becomes too much.” 

“Maenad.” He snorts and you huff. “I just wrote an essay on them, don’t start.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Alright. Just please use it if it’s too much - any of it. If you can’t talk, pat my arm, alright? Just wanna do this right.” 

You nod, so in love with him it takes all of you to stop yourself from blurting it. 

Vernon shuffles behind you, letting you tilt forward a little. The hand between your legs leaves and he instead brings it behind you, prodding at your pussy with his fingers from behind. You let out a loud sound and you can almost feel his grin as he presses a finger into your heat. 

He’s slow at first, the same way he was with his mouth. He explores what you like, testing the way his fingers drag against your walls combined with different grip strengths on your throat. You feel light headed. The room spins as he finds a rhythm that draws the most noises from you, that makes you clench down on his finger the most. 

All of your weight is against the hand around your neck, barely able to hold yourself up as he presses another finger in. This time, his fingers prod right against that soft spot inside of you, making you see stars. He must realize he’s found it, because he starts finger fucking you in earnest. 

The grip on your throat loosens a little, careful not to keep you short of breath for too long as he works your cunt with his hand. His lips find your shoulder, peppering you with light kisses that are delicate and butterfly soft in comparison to the way his fingers fuck into you. 

“Vernon,” you whisper, only able to think of his name. “Vernon vernon vernon.”

“Doing so good, darling,” he whispers against your skin. He kisses his way to your ear, sucking the sensitive spot on your neck. “So fucking good for me.” 

His words hit below the belt. You shudder in his hold, letting him drive you toward another release. You never imagined Vernon to be talkative in bed, but he is, his voice like velvet. Just like that. Perfect for me. There you go, come on. 

Everything about him is perfect, driving you to mania. His grip on your throat tightens suddenly, sensing how close you are to your second peak. Your breath quickens until you can’t breathe, going mute against him as his fingers press hardly into that spot over and over and over.

A high-pitched ring winds in your ears. You hold and hold and hold and when Vernon lets go of your throat, a gust of air flooding your lungs, you shatter around his hand. You collapse backward against him, head knocking into his. You don’t even care, twitching and gasping against him as his hand stills. 

For a few moments, you just lean against him like that, sweaty and lost and in a dream. Slowly, you become aware of his pounding heart against your back and the slick between your thighs. Vernon’s mouth is pressed to your shoulder, waiting patiently as you blink a few times, the room swimming into view.

“Hi,” he murmurs, watching you with shadowy eyes.

“Hi,” you croak, voice rough.

“Good?”

“Very.” 

“Want to stop?”

“No. Unless you want to.”

His gaze darkens. “I don’t.” 

“I want more. I can take more.” 

He lifts his head and presses a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re perfect for me. Do you know that?” 

Reverent hands help you lay back against the pillows. Vernon touches you like you’re something delicate - not because he thinks you’re fragile, but because you’re something important to him. Valuable. You see it in the way he looks down at you, taking a moment to drink you in. 

There’s something else there too. Something edged with a knife, a little wild. Covetous. There is something in the way Vernon grips your leg briefly, a language he’s trying to communicate to you with touch. 

Mine, it says. Mine and no one else's.

With hooded eyes, you watch him peel his briefs off. Your eyes shoot to where his cock hangs heavy, beads of precum dripping at his tip. You reach a hand up toward him but he shakes his head, careful as he shuffles toward you.

“Later,” he promises. “I like touching you.” 

“I want you to feel good.”

“You make me feel good. Seeing you unravel makes me feel good. I like seeing how much you enjoy me touching you.”

You can tell he means it. His lips are swollen and soft when he kisses you. You open your legs open for him, letting him settle between the softness of your thighs. Vernon runs the head of his cock through your messy fluids, earning a whine for you.

“Sensitive?” he asks against your lips, nose nudging yours. You nod and you feel him smile. “Sorry.”

“Feels good,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Want more.” 

“Greedy thing.” 

“I’m Your greedy thing.”

Your words have the desired effect. You feel a shiver ripple through him, Vernon’s grip on your leg turning to iron as he opens you up wider. He presses his cock into your entrance slowly, pausing just as the tip pops in. You throb around him, whispering his name - begging him to keep going. 

Vernon’s grin is sharp as he sinks in further, the slide tortuous and wonderful and so much as he finally finds home, hips pressed as far as he can go. He stays like that, tangling your tongue in a messy kiss as he sits there, fully seated in your heat. Your pussy spasms around him, pressed open to the max. 

“Feels so good,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.”

“So do it.” You wrap a leg around his waist, your hips tilting upward. Both of you moan at the angle change, so close to breaking. “I wanna see it.” 

Instead of answering, he nods. He drags his hips backward slowly before slamming back in. He punches the breath out of your lungs with each slide home, the stroke slow but deep. Your head falls to the side, breaths rasping as he sets a steady, slow pace. 

It feels good, your legs curling around him to keep you close, hands tangle in his hair to keep him tethered to you. His hair is damp with sweat, your fingers curled in the strands, tugging a little. He seems to like it, making a needy sound in his throat that has you grinning. 

“Mine,” Vernon whispers to you, words muffled by your neck. “You are only mine, darling. You will only ever be mine. You were made for me. No one else.”

“No one else,” you agree. 

His hips move faster, a little messier. You egg him on, legs squeeze, cunt spasming around him. He lets out a feral sound, driving himself further to his orgasm. He drags you with him, another swell reaching you. Vernon can tell, chasing it like a predator, pinning you down and slamming his cock into you until you’re melting around him again, vision blotted out. 

Vernon comes to the sound of his name on your lips. His movements become sloppy until he can’t go anymore, holding himself above you, trembling. Carefully, he drops next to you, pulling his cock free. You feel your joint fluids run down your leg, but you’re too tired to care. 

Reaching for him, your hand finds his chest. He wraps his fingers around yours, holding your palm to him, his heart thudding wildly under your touch.

“For you,” he mutters. “Only for you, darling.” 

You fall asleep like that, hand pressed to his chest.

-

Waking up in Vernon’s bed is not new to you. You’ve fallen asleep numerous times at his apartment or stayed the night after going out, but you’ve always had the bed to yourself, Vernon opting to take the couch. 

The bed is empty now, but still warm. You stretch as you roll over in his sheets, groaning as you feel the soreness between your legs and mostly everywhere else. Pressing your hand to your chest and shoulders, you feel all the tender places Vernon mapped his affection with tongue and teeth. It makes you smile fondly as you lay in bed alone for a minute, breathing in the scent of his room.

Slowly, you peel yourself from his bed. With an awkward waddle, you make it to the bathroom, flicking on the light. You shield your eyes at first, going about your morning routine and washing your face to try and feel human again. 

On your way out, something catches your eye. You frown, walking back toward his laundry hamper where you see brass glinting in the light. You reach for it, pulling the bell from the tangle of his clothes. It has an old wooden handle with cracks, a little hand bell used for-

Well. Used the night of halloween. You have no idea why Vernon still has it, the memory of that night like poison in your mouth. You toss it back into the hamper on top of another shirt that catches your eye. It’s one of his dark green t-shirts, but the collar is stained dark brown.

Curious, you pull it out, shaking the shirt out in front of you. It’s mostly unmarked, save for the spatter of something dark brown and dried. You run your finger around the edge of it, puzzled. It looks like dried blood, but you can’t recall any injuries he’s suffered recently. 

You take the shirt with you into his room, tossing it on his bed as you get dressed, stealing sweatpants and a hoodie. Grabbing the shirt again, you trail out toward the kitchen where Vernon is making breakfast, the smell of bacon crackling in the pan.

You grin, leaning against the doorframe for a second to watch him. He looks so at ease, flipping pieces of bacon while he sings to some seventies song you don’t know the name of. 

Pushing off the wall, you head toward him. He catches you in his peripheral, turning his head and smiling at you. “Hello, Darling.” 

The nickname gives you pause. You slow as you come around the corner of the counter, stopping completely as the endearment pricks you sharply on the back of your neck. Vernon goes back to flipping bacon, singing along a song you vaguely know, but don’t know why Vernon does. He’s never liked music from the 1970s, and-

Your ears start to ring. Several things occur to you at once. 

The memory of Vernon screaming and banging his fists against the door, begging for help. You’d been so afraid that you ripped the door open, crashing through the line of salt. 

Vernon, sharp and confident, the new edge to him as he interacts with people, a little harsher. A little darker.

Nah need to cut back on the sodium had said when you asked about the lack of salt on his fries.

The way he’d called you darling the night before, whispering it against your skin. 

70s music that Vernon has never listened to since you’ve known him.  

The bell sitting in the hamper used to call a spirit on Halloween. 

In the house that belonged to the Hello Darling Murderer.

Brown stains - like blood - on his shirt. 

Carefully, you learn toward the middle of the counter, watching Vernon like a prey skirts a predator. With trembling hands, you gently grab the salt from where it sits next to the pepper. You hold your breath, trying not to draw his attention as you unscrew the top of it, placing the metal lid on the shirt to keep it quiet. 

With as silent steps as you can manage, you cross to the other side of the kitchen where you’re out of his line of sight. Tipping the salt over, you pour it across the tile from counter to fridge, eyes darting between the barrier of white and the man standing in the kitchen humming. 

Your heart hammers. 

Your hands shake. 

Salt shaker empty, you set it on the counter and take a few steps back. It’s an unbroken line of salt, and though it doesn’t trap him in the kitchen, at least it’s there. 

Vernon turns around with the pan of bacon. He sees you and his humming stops, cocking his head to the side. He notices the empty salt shaker. Frowns. Looks at you. Looks at the ground where you’ve drawn a line of salt. 

For a second, he just stares at it. His eyes flick back up to you, warm and brown but narrowed. 

“Why is there salt all over my floor?” 

“Cross it.” 

“Huh?”

“Step over the line of salt.” 

Silence stretches between you. He remains standing in the kitchen, pan in hand, music playing in the background.

When Vernon doesn’t move, you can see everything so clearly. 

Vernon hadn’t been joking when he slammed his hands on the door begging for help on Halloween. A sick feeling roils in your stomach as you remember the panicked screams, the way his fists hammered the door. 

Your next words come out as a hiss. “Cross the line of salt, Vernon.”

He looks at the salt and purses his lips before sighing and setting the pan down on the stove. He tosses the rag from his shoulder and shakes his head, striding over to the white line you made against his tile. He stops in front of it, looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if to say really?

“Well, do it.”

Vernon looks down at the salt. Looks back up to you. Down at the salt. 

And then he laughs. 

“Fuck, you really are the smartest person in school.” He sighs heavily, a gaze darker than anything you’ve ever seen on his face as he stares at you. “You know I can’t cross that line of salt, darling.” 

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380 @bultaereume @yoongznme @kaitieskidmore97 @coffee-addict-kitten @gyubakeries @archivistworld @asyre @kaepjjangiya @fancypeacepersona @beckyloveshannie @imujings @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jbluen @mingumis @kimsaerom

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Soulmate! Junhui

I literally wrote this the day after the Hoshi/Soonyoung one so yeah. Also I legitimately did research into body art/painting so. It was like, ten minutes of it, but I did it.

Who: Wen Junhui (Jun), Seventeen

AU: Whenever you draw on yourself it also appears on your soulmate (I like to call this a ‘Doodle AU’)

Synopsis: Body art (specifically painting) is your shit and Jun loves seeing your art, he just never expected to see it at a fansign. (AKA you’re oblivious and he’s losing his mind)

Warnings: Cursing

(he’s so fuckin intense look at the eyes the expression oh my god it’s like a six second image how does he do that)

Seungkwan || The8/Minghao || Hoshi/Soonyoung || Junhui || Jeonghan || Joshua || Mingyu || Vernon || S.coups/Seungcheol || Wonwoo || Woozi/Jihoon || DK/Seokmin || main masterlist

so everybody always talks about what soulmark they want to get when they turn ten

you weren’t actually sure what mark you’d want

hell you weren’t sure if you wanted a soulmate at all

but your tenth birthday came and when you didn’t wake up with a timer or a tattoo you kinda shrugged it off with a mini pang of regret

because sure you didn’t have any marks but at least now you don’t have to worry about letting them down because you don’t know how to handle a relationship or something

you were an artsy kid who got bored in class like, all the fuckin time so you’d draw on anything that was available, and that day you’d run out of paper but your teacher had made the mistake of leaving the tub of washable markers on your desk

she walks back and bout fuckin screams because here you are with marks just covering your skin like we’re talking dinosaurs and stars and a spaceship and whatever you came up with in the moment like there’s a rainbow on your leg where you’d just taken a palmful of markers and pulled them up the side

your teacher’s like “HOLY HECK WASH THAT OFF” because teachers always freak tf out over ink poisoning so your smugass ten year old self went to the bathroom and started scrubbing with this pleased little expression because not only are you covered in pretty art but you also got yourself out of class

and then your left wrist starts to tingle like someone’s writing on it and you’re like ??? and pull it out of the water and as you watch a crescent moon appears on your arm outlined in a black marker

it’s shaky but it’s so fucking cute and you’re like oh shit, this is my mark isn’t it? because your teacher in the third grade had it too

so you pull a marker out of your shoe (because you’re the little shit who walks off with half the art supplies) and you put a little heart and a star next to it

and thus begins a lovely friendship

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