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indulgentdaydream · 8 months ago

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I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #red hood #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #missy writes #ask missy #jason todd x y/n #dc x y/n #dc x fem!reader #dc x you #dc x reader #dc fic #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic

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leviathans-watching · 1 year ago

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omg i love your work!! if posisble, can you do a part 2 to touching their wings and stuff with the dateables or maybe other characters? thank you and take care :D

touching their tails/horns/etc. pt 2

includes: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, mephisto, raphael x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .5k | rated t | m.list | pt 1

a/n: i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, either because their forms haven't been revealed or just because i wanted to so just assume most of this is not canon at all lol

please reblog and like <33

➳ diavolo laughs as you poke at the gilded ends of his wings, taking in the intricate design. “it’s real gold,” he says before you can ask, gesturing to the tips of his horns, “as are these. it’s a birth present to children of our family, laced with magic that let’s it grow and change along with is. it’s a symbol of our wealth, our status.” you reach up to touch his horns, and he leans into your touch, happy to let you explore as you wish. “sometimes i think they’re a bit much, and then i remember who i am,” he continues, and you chuckle, making him laugh again too.

➳ barbatos’ tail twitches as you run your hand along it, obviously surprised by the texture. “that feels good,” he says mildly, and you give him a grin, twisting the end of each forked part between your fingers gently. if it keeps you occupied he’s happy to let you play with his tail for as long as you want. only because of that, obviously. not because he can’t remember the last time, if ever, someone’s touched him like this. or because your touch is soothing something inside of him he hadn’t known needed soothed.

➳ mephisto bows his head for you, letting you feel over the nubs where his horns should have been. “they never grew in quite properly,” he explains, sighing as you scratch gently at his scalp around them, “which is why i don’t often reveal my demon form. it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it? of course, my parents offered to have false horns inset, and lord diavolo knows we had the money for it, but, well, that just sounded like a bother.” you press your fingers to hs head, eyes steady, and he’s glad to see you’re not thinking of him any differently.

➳ raphael unfurls his wings, and you catch your breath. he’s often been told that his wings are beautiful, richly colored like a peacock’s, and your reaction goes on to support that opinion. ��you can touch, if you’d like,” he offers, and you don’t hesitate, burying your fingers in the downy feathers near where they connect to his back. his head falls back, and a quiet peace goes over the two of you as you stroke your way from base to wing tip, then back, soothing actions putting him on the verge of sleep.

➳ simeon wakes up to the feel of your touch on his wing, soft and hesitant. sometime during the night, he’d transformed into his angel form, wings splayed out and over the bed, almost covering the whole thing in their enormity. they certainly cover you, like a warm, live, down blanket. he twitches instinctively, and you pull your hands back. “no, no,” he says sleepily, “you can keep going. it feels good when you touch me.” he sees you smile and smiles too, even though he’s already being lured back into sleep by your soft strokes across the top of his wing, where the feathers are smooth and packed together.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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bread-crum206 · 3 days ago

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A Game of Hearts

Chapter eleven: The Hunt Begins

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13

The atmosphere in the VIP room had shifted into something far heavier, something that felt like it could suffocate you if you didn’t breathe carefully. The VIPs were scattered around the room, lounging on the lavish couches with glasses of expensive drinks in hand, their eyes on the large screen mounted on the wall. The air was thick with anticipation, the same kind of energy you’d feel just before a storm hit.

You could feel their gazes on you, even though you weren’t looking directly at them. You were hyper-aware of their presence, as if they were all leaning just a little closer, just a little more eager to see what would happen next. You knew they were watching you—after all, you were the spectacle of the night, just like every other game participant. The only difference was, you didn’t want to be the prize they were fighting over.

In-ho had positioned himself near the back of the room, standing close to you but not too close. His presence was both protective and commanding, as though he was a constant reminder that the games—no matter how much fun the VIPs were having—would never be something you could truly escape. Even here, with all the plush luxury and the apparent peace, you were never really safe.

You shifted your gaze to the screen, trying to focus on the events unfolding there instead of the discomfort you felt.

The game was about to start.

On the screen, the city appeared—ruins. Buildings half-collapsed, streets littered with rubble. It was like a bomb had hit it, and what was left was a desolate wasteland. You couldn’t help but feel a knot tighten in your stomach as the camera zoomed in on the players.

Each of them wore a bright orange headband, the color a stark contrast against the grey backdrop of the destroyed city. It was the perfect game—Hide and Seek, but with a twisted, deadly twist.

The players had to evade a pack of trained dogs. If the dogs found them, they were mauled. If they managed to stay hidden, they moved on to the next round. It was brutal. Violent. And the VIPs loved it.

The camera cut to the dogs. They were large, terrifying creatures, their eyes hungry, waiting for the signal to hunt. You felt a tightness in your throat, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t look away. The images on the screen were becoming more vivid, more real. The dogs—trained specifically for this kind of hunt—were restless, pacing behind a metal gate, snarling, their teeth sharp and glinting in the dim light of the arena.

A man’s voice broke through the tension in the room. “This is my favorite part of the games,” a VIP called out, slurring slightly, clearly a few drinks in. His voice carried a note of excitement, like a child about to see his favorite movie.

Another VIP laughed darkly. “You say that every time, but you never get tired of it, do you?” He looked at you, his gaze lingering longer than it should. It made your skin crawl, but you fought the urge to shrink back. You weren’t allowed to show weakness. Not here. Not in front of them.

The horn blared.

It was a sharp, loud sound that sent the dogs into a frenzy. They barked, their bodies tense, their noses twitching as they began to pick up the scent of their prey. You could see the players—still in hiding, trying to remain as quiet as possible—knowing that the moment they were discovered, they’d be torn apart. The camera panned across the arena, showing glimpses of broken buildings, the wreckage of cars, shattered glass that glittered like dangerous confetti in the dust.

One player, a man with a thick beard, tried to hide behind a crumbling wall. His breath was shallow, his body pressed flat against the rubble. The camera zoomed in on him, following every movement, every flinch. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to make it. The dogs were too close. You could hear their growls, their teeth snapping in the air as they closed in on their target.

A single dog, a massive black creature with piercing yellow eyes, sprang forward. The bearded man didn’t even have time to scream before the dog leapt at him, its jaws clamping down on his arm with a sickening crunch.

The VIPs in the room reacted—some of them leaned forward, watching intently as the man struggled. His arm was pulled out of its socket, his body jerking in spasms of pain. The dog didn’t let go. It was almost clinical in its violence.

Your stomach turned, but you forced yourself to look away. You couldn’t afford to show any sign of weakness, even though everything inside you screamed to leave, to run far away from this nightmare. You couldn’t. Not while you were here.

In-ho must have sensed the change in you. Without turning, he moved closer, his presence a shield. His hand brushed lightly against your shoulder, a subtle touch that no one would notice but you. It was a small thing, but to you, it was everything. It was the reminder that, even though you were surrounded by these monsters, he was here.

“You don’t have to watch this,” he murmured softly, his voice so low that it was just for you.

But you shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice firm, but his hand on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, as if to say that you weren’t alone in this. It’s funny because this is what you had said to him in the first week of your marriage and now he’s giving you your own advice.

The game continued, and you had to watch—had to endure every violent moment. The players were slowly eliminated, each one either killed by the dogs or injured enough to be eliminated from the game. The tension in the room built, and the VIPs, unable to hide their excitement, began to lean closer to the screen.

It was as if you were all watching something… sacred. The chaos was intoxicating, even for you. But you knew it wasn’t real. These men didn’t care about the players. They were nothing more than objects to be discarded when they were no longer useful. And yet, they stared, completely enthralled.

Your eyes flickered to your father again. He hadn’t moved. He never moved. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his face a mask of impassivity. But when his gaze briefly flicked toward you, it was like a flash of lightning—a quick, cold look before it was gone. He hadn’t acknowledged you, not really. But in that fleeting moment, you saw the briefest flash of something in his eyes. Regret? Disappointment? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want to care either.

As the horn signaling the end of the game the remaining players slowly made their way out of their hiding places as the dogs retreated back to their cages.

The game ended in a bloodbath, as it always did. But that didn’t matter to the VIPs, they didn't care that people died, they only cared if they were entertained.

They began talking among themselves. Their eyes, however, soon shifted back to you. They were bored now, looking for something new to entertain them. The focus of their gazes was relentless.

You could feel them closing in, their words directed at you now, one by one, subtle compliments, veiled insults, thinly disguised advances. They were trying to reel you in, to see if you’d bite, to see if they could take something from you that they hadn’t earned.

In-ho’s protective stance didn’t falter. He stood between you and the crowd, blocking their advances with his quiet strength. His presence was like a wall, keeping you safe, even if only for a while.

You wanted to look away from it all, to pretend you weren’t part of this game, but the truth was, you were. You had been from the moment you stepped into this world.

And you weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending.

———————

Chapter 11!!! Woo! I’m prolly going to have 1-2 more chapters posted tonight… as always let me know what you think about the chapter! Thank you! :)

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jupitersdescendant · 2 months ago

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hello guys, i hope everyone is doing as good as possible!

todays topic: a prominent spirit guide in your life

close your eyes and let your intuition guide you while choosing a pile. you could feel drawn to more than one. only take what resonates. this is meant for entertainment purposes only.

art by Sydney Lawrence

Pile 1

💠about your guide💠

cards: butterfly (rx), elf, four of pentacles, king of pentacles (rx)

hi guys, so you’re guide has a difficult time getting through to you or to connect with you. they seem a little frustrated because of that. the have a more masculine energy to them. because the earth element is very present here i think, that even through their frustration they remain patient and grounded when it comes to you. they’re mainly here to spark a transformation in you and guide you through change but it does seem like you aren’t a hundred percent ready for their presence yet. the colours orange and red are prominent here, they want to light that fire inside you and inspire you. they also want to challenge you. they haven’t reached their full power hence their full impact on your life yet since you’re struggling to let them in. if you do though, you’ll feel their presence and their impact on your life strongly. when prominent, they aren’t easy to miss. they also seem a little stubborn so they’ll wait for you as long as it takes and will remain persistent.

💠messages from them💠

cards: emperor (rx), two of pentacles (rx), ten of swords

i think you carry some unhealthy masculine energy in you (mind you this has nothing to do with gender) which is really interesting and also makes a lot of sense as to why your spirit guide carries a more masculine energy themselves. they’re here to teach you how to use and embrace it in a natural and healthy way. you could very well struggle with an „my way are the highway“ attitude and refuse to budge. they want to teach you how to listen and think about how your actions might affect others. you have the choice, the power to decide how you’re gonna move forward. are you ready to let go of these negative patterns in your behaviour? they may seem more comfortable than facing yourself and the inevitable change but are they going to benefit you in the long run? its okay to be scared and insecure but that’s why your spirit guide is here. they`ll help you through your ego death because that is what you’re going to face. just know: if you succeed, those destructive thoughts and patterns will no longer hold you hostage. this cycle will finally be over and will lead to the new emergence of your soul, possibilities and a new narrative. the number four as well as animals with horns could be direct signs and symbols sent by them to you.

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

Pile 2

💠about your guide💠

cards: bat (rx), kraken (rx), nine of wans (rx), six of wands (rx),

hello pile 2! your guide has a very dark energy to them but that doesn’t mean they’re bad or anything like that. they seem to prefer the dark so maybe they’re most prominent after sundown and could appear in your dreams as well. they’re very attached to you and very protective. their energy feels very brooding but also fiery. the colours black, dark pink and red are most representing for them. their presence in your life is here because they want to help you to let go of the past. you seem to be clinging to what you know and what brings you a false sense of comfort and they’re here to help you through that. since you seem very afraid you’re blocking them out a lot. this could be another reason they mainly try to reach you at night/through your dreams. they have an adventurous personality and want to spark this within in you too. they’re not afraid to wander into the unknown,and rather thrive in it actually. with them by your side you’re urged to embrace fearlessness and to let go of what no longer serves you. rainbows are coming through as well, this represents what is waiting for you when you decide to trust and follow them into the uncertain. if some of you believe in gods or even deities, your guide could also function as some kind of messenger.

💠messages from them💠

cards: ace of pentacles (rx), queen of cups (rx), eight of wands (rx)

wow so just as before all your cards came out in reverse which isn’t necessarily a bad thing though in your case it’s not a good one. the three cards i pulled also flipped out all at once, couldn’t even really shuffle once. your guide is really desperate to talk to you and get their message across. dear people, i`m really not judging but by god you’re blocking yourself and your growth so damn hard and it truly leaves me a little speechless. man, i feel for your guide. you refuse to allow something natural and new to emerge. probably ignoring signs and omens as well. there’s basically this gateway of your desires and wishes waiting for you but you’re walking the other way. what hurts most to see though is how unhappy you actually are in your current situation and like i`m just the messenger, for your guide it must be brutal to watch. you seem to have some harsh emotional wounds. it looks like you think and feel like in order to „get rid of them“ you can’t move on to something completely alien to you but moving on and out of this energy is the only way to truly heal. not taking action is still an action. reflect and think: what holds you back? what action can you take? what intentions can you set right now? your guide also wants you to remember: what you put out into the world will return to you. i know this was probably hard to read but your guide really means well. you’re not alone, they’re just waiting for you to take and accept their hand and lead you through that magical gate with endless possibilities on the other side.

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

Pile 3

💠about your guide💠

cards: earthworm (rx), phoenix, three of wands (rx), five of cups

hello pile three! your guide is very careful in their way of connecting to you as they don’t want to overwhelm you. they have a very bright and colourful energy to them and seem to be very pleased by you. they’ve been by your side for a while and helped you through the hard times you recently had to face. many of you have dealt with a great loss and are still grieving. know that they grieve with you and that they try to give you as much comfort as possible. they care about you a lot. they don’t want to push or pressure you too much but they’re still a little impatient since they can’t wait to see you really flourish. your spirit is here to guide your through your big transformation, they aren’t represented by the phoenix for nothing. they have this special and all consuming spark to them that’ll infect everyone they’re connected to. their energy and influence are revitalising. it could be possible for you to see this spark reflect in your own eyes. they of course feel and share your anxiety of what’s to come but its more so out of excitement. they’re still very sure of themselves, as well as of you of course. accepting your past, then letting go and preparing your for your new set is their main purpose.

💠messages from them💠

cards: the sun, ace of wands (rx), four of pentacles

you’re still unsure of how to embrace this transformation. well, get comfortable darling because the universe has your back. the time to doubt yourself was yesterday, step into and embrace the confidence that waits to be unlocked. it might take some time to fully get used to this and its alright to be overwhelmed at times. your guide wants you to know that you have nothing to fear, nothing to hide. you’re unfolding who you are and what you’re capable of. growth and expansion are in store for you. you’ll see and experience your hearts desires unfolding. you’ll shine in the center of your universe. they’re saying that an eternal sun will warm you, obviously more so in a spiritual sense. they also want you to accept the help of others and to allow them to provide for you when you need it. always remember: what you need is at hand and even if you should lose sight of it, the universe is conspiring to help you. they’re also saying well done ;)

hope it resonates, stay safe!! 🖤

#divination #pac reading #pick a card reading #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #spirituality #free tarot readings #witchcraft #pac tarot #tarot card reading #tarotblr #tarot blog

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huboi · 11 months ago

Text

POLY! SATOSUGU ˖ . ☆

MINORS DNI!!!

╰┈➤ includes; poly satosugu ft gn! reader, a separate part where reader is afab and how they comfort you during period time, shoko is included because she’s a #girl boss, separate nsfw part, they didn’t have the kfc breakup in this so dw

╰┈➤ a/n; the shibuya arc destroyed me and I’m in desperate need for fluff, reader’s a sub (sos to all the tops/switches, I’m just a sub at heart)

these guys are complete opposites

but in a good way that they pretty much compliment each other

when you entered their life, they were smitten

they were both dating before you came into their life, they never thought of having another partner but then you came along and boom

satoru is a clingy bastard

this goes for both you and suguru

neither of you guys are safe from the menace that is satoru

he’s clingy but you guys love him for that, cause that means cuddle piles 24/7 when you’re all free and not busy with killing curses etc.

suguru is the peace keeper in a sense, he’s the most chill

like if there’s ever an argument between you guys, he’s usually the one that encourages communication

my guy knows that communication is very important in order to maintain a healthy, happy long lasting relationship

suguru shows affection more subtlety than gojo

instead of rushing towards you as soon as you come home, he instead has food ready for you if you’re hungry, if not then he just puts it in the fridge for later

one thing suguru loves is having his hair played with, you can brush it, braid it, anything, he’s like a Barbie doll

speaking of hair when you guys are sleeping, 9 times out of 10 you will find sugurus hair in your mouth, even if it’s tied in a neat bun (which he doesn’t usually do since he likes having his hair down when sleeping/relaxing)

geto is very caring and reminds you of a mother/father figure, since he always asks you and gojo wether you’ve eaten, had something to drink etc.

not in the overbearing way either, he just wants to make sure his loves are in top condition :3

shoko is the no.1 wing woman, like she roots for you guys all the time, she’s so glad that this chaotic duo found you

if you ever wanna hang out with her without the boys, you usually have to sneak out since gojo is really reluctant on letting you go without him, not in a toxic way, he’s just really fucking clingy and so wants to be around you as much as possible

but as soon as you tell him suguru’s coming home when you’re gone, he instantly plans out the little date they have whilst you go out with shoko

speaking of dates, they’re either spent in a fancy ass restaurant for dinner, or a causal night in with take out whilst watching a movie, gojo insisting on horror even though you and suguru both know he’ll piss his pants and hide behind a pillow throughout the whole film

shoko fourth wheels you guys a lot, even though suguru tends to not show affection outside of the house, gojo lives for PDA

like when you guys are walking, he’ll slither between your bodies so he’s in the middle, only to grab both of your hands and intertwine them🥹

gojo is also a big fan of cheek/forehead kisses

yes he loves kissing you on the lips but that’s more so for in the house

gojo tends to get very grumpy when you don’t reciprocate his affectionate gestures, but dw you can cheer him up by bribing him with his favourite sweets, it usually works, if not that then you can make it up to him in the bedroom *wink wink*

when sleeping gojo tends to spread out his long ass limbs as far as they can go, which leaves you and suguru barely any space

gojo defo snores, man sounds like a whole ass tractor at best, at worst a bloody horn that you hear on ships

suguru doesn’t snore, he just mumbles in his sleep sometimes, which is cute low-key

gojo is a light sleeper (due to his six eyes) and suguru is a heavy sleeper, like you have to suffocate him with a pillow to wake him tf up sometimes

whenever you have a cold/are sick, the boys become so doting, satoru somehow becoming even more clingy even though you keep on warning him that he may also get sick too, cocky bastard claiming ‘I won’t since I’m the strongest’ only to, unsurprisingly, have the exact same illness once you’re better

if you struggle with mental health a lot, the boys will do pretty much anything to help you out

gojo usually prefers to buy you loads of sugar/sweets if that’s your thing, if not then he will cuddle you and just be there for you

suguru understands since he has struggled with mental health in the past and is there for you if you want to vent/rant to someone

if you are neurodivergent then they will try their best to help with your needs

eg. if you’re overstimulated they will bring you to the closest quiet area and help you calm down wether via hugs and kisses or giving you some alone time

same goes for if you have a disability eg. you use a wheelchair etc. they are very supportive and they don’t care as in you’re still the love of their life no matter what

IF READER HAS A PERIOD (feel free to skip this if you don’t get periods)

they obviously don’t understand how painful periods can be, but they don’t make any negative comments about it

when you have terrible cramps their hearts ache as they can’t really do much other than giving you medication, hot water bottle and tea

suguru tends to place his hand on your stomach if you want to of course

if you’re craving foods, they will get them for you

mainly gojo tho cause he also loves food

when you get emotional they kinda just stand there like 🧍

one time you cried over suguru giving you a forehead kiss, he was very concerned

bro was worried he somehow upset you :(

they definitely go to shoko for some more advice on how to comfort you when you’re on your period

gojo defo says ‘apperantly orgasms can relief period cramps sooo’

you slapped him in the face

NSFW SECTION!

CW: DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, SWITCH! GOJO, BRAT! GOJO, SPANKING, SOFT DOM! GETO, BRAT TAMER! GETO, SUB!READER, AFTERCARE

when it comes to sexy times, geto is always the one in charge

sometimes gojo gets ahead of himself and forgets his place, only to be spanked till his ass is red by suguru

suguru loves praising you so much, he hates it when you misbehave and he has to spank you

gojo loves spanking you on the other hand, he also loves receiving a spanking from suguru

if gojo misbehaves one thing suguru loves to do is tie him up and make him watch as geto fucks you dumb

gojo cant touch himself, and if he does then he has to have a vibrator on his cock and not cum for 30 mins whilst watching geto fuck you yet again

satoru has a high sex drive and can seemingly go on for hours on end

suguru has a high sex drive too, but it’s not as high as gojos’

gojo’s a horny bastard :(

sometimes you will find yourself being woken up by gojo giving you head in the morning

yes suguru does find out, one way or another, and punishes gojo for giving you head without getos permission (dw gojo and geto both have ur consent to do sexy stuff to you whilst you sleep, you guys all agreed on this in the beginning of the relationship)

suguru prefers giving head over receiving, since he loves making either you or gojo moan out his name whilst he gives you delicious head

gojo prefers receiving but sometimes enjoys giving

gojo mainly prefers receiving from you since unlike geto you don’t tease him

geto’s a fucking tease in the bedroom, to both of you but mainly gojo since he’s so bratty and suguru hates that (secretly loves it)

sometimes gojo will fuck you whilst he gets fucked by geto

aftercare is a MUST for both gojo and geto

especially after an intense session

sometimes you end up slipping into sub space which can be a problem since they both hate seeing you that way

they instantly cover you with kisses, hugs and so much praise

bath time always happens after, the boys joining you

you even have a little snack or a big snack depending on how rough the session was

after you’re all taken care of, the boys and you hop into a clean, fresh bed and fall asleep in each others’ arms <3

I ONLY POST ON TUMBLR, IF YOU SEE MY FANFICTION ON OTHER WEBSITES LET ME KNOW ASAP

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innorogers · 4 months ago

Text

Reverie

Steve Rogers x Reader (You)

Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!

Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.

Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️

Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid

"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.

"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.

Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.

But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.

"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.

"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.

You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."

"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.

"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.

"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"

"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."

"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.

"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."

The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.

"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”

"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."

He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.

You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild.

OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.

You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives.

And now... this.

Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was.

After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file.

Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus.

He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.

After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."

"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it.

"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."

"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.

"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."

"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.

"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."

You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.

"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands.

"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"

That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."

"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car.

"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far.

"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.

"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."

“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”

Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.”

To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.

As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.

As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.

His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.

So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.

But instead…

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.

You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.

What's your superpower, Steve wondered.

He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.

Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row.

"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.

“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.

“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”

“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”

“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”

“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind.

Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."

When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound.

Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”

Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."

“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.

“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?”

It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.

“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.

“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."

Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”

“Couldn’t you just say that…”

They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.

He needs to ask the most important question.

“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve.

“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”

“Don’t I always?”

Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right? Aaaand third, she asked. So...”

He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…”

He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”

Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”

The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations.

There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.

Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.

Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.

So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever? Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...

“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”

Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.

It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.

You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.

Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red.

Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.

“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.

“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.

“Who? Where?” his companion asked.

“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”

“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”

“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”

Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...

“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."

Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.

“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”

“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”

In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."

A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.

"What are you doing tonight?"

You frowned. Who is this?

You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?

You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender.

Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.

"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.

"Sure." you reply.

"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"

Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.

"Who is this?"

Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.

"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."

Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.

But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.

"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."

"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."

His laugh stopped.

"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"

Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.

"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.

So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?

"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"

Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off."

So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.

"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."

"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere.

He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.

He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.

Of course, you had no idea.

You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.

"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.

"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.

"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you.

"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.

"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"

"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."

"I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.

"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation.

Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker.

You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.

"I can’t. "

You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.

"It’s confidential."

Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled.

Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"

"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…"

As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."

"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.

Of course, you had to go—you had a date.

Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...

"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.

"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…"

He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.

You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.

It was not just a date, it was the date.

So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."

"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."

"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.

"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."

He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."

"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"

"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."

"Like... in Harry Potter?"

"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.

"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"

"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention.

"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”

"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.

"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."

"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.

"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..."

He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"

“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.

You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.

You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.

He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.

“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm.

“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”

Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”

You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps.

“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”

Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”

Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?

Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?

Of course he’s taking it further.

Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.

It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.

You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.

Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.

“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.

“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”

“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.

“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”

You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.

“Like…”

You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.

“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”

There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.

“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”

“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted.

“Everything is perfect.”

He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning.

Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.

“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”

“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.

Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.

“Are you sure?”

“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”

And that does it.

Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.

“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.

“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.

“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.

You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”

Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…”

He was feeling the surge of his powers – everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back.

Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.

He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire.

He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.

“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”

You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.

The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.

You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.

You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.

“God…”

Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need.

He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.

He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.

“Please don’t stop…”

God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.

“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”

Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire.

He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.

“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…”

You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard.

He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy.

He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again.

His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss.

“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”

“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.

Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt.

He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm.

" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"

You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.

Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.

“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”

“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”

“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?”

“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams.

He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.

“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…”

His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you.

You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.

“Steve…”

He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long.

“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”

“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.

“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing.

“Well…” You blushed slightly.

The “date” has lasted the entire weekend.

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking.

You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on.

“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”

“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?”

He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”

“What?”

“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”

“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...”

Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”

“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.

You grinned. “Maybe I did.”

“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.

“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.

“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.

You sighed and smiled.

Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

End but TBD

Continue to:

4: Nightmare |

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.

I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)

Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)

Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3

Love.,

Moon.

P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!

#captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x female reader #smut #steve rogers smut

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whereserpentswalk · 6 months ago

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Choose a transformation to permanently alter your body and remove your humanity.

1: get infected with lycanthrope (being bitten is the easiest way, but the curse can also be passed on through blood transfusions, or other bodily fluids). You'll be able to turn into a wolf any night when the moon shines, and you'll be compelled to when the moon is full. The other werewolves are likely to accept you into their community under most circumstances.

2: enter a local ufo to be turned into a cyborg. The visitors are dying to find a human who'll let you do this to them, and you might just be the one. Parts of your body will be replaced with strange and unknowable technology, thousands of years more advanced than what your backwater planet has. Who knows what you'll become, but it certainly won't be human.

3: allow a demon to possess you. While this sounds bad at first, most demons aren't actually sentient beings, but just semi sentient balls emotions. When they possess you it'll still be your mind and personality, just enhanced with the demon's emotions and desires, given its abilities. You'll also probably start looking more like what people consider a demon to look like after awhile, weather that be a body with horns and scales like the classic devil look, or something more animalistic, or even something more eldrich.

4: let the faeries play with you. This is a risky one but they're looking to be entertained by a cute little human to do things to. Who knows what they'll do to you, but we can be quite certain it'll be something very very interesting.

5: permanently psychically bond to a wyvern through the dreaming. For generations humans have done this to become wyvern riders, though rider is an odd term as your minds will be linked, you'll be able to know what it's feeling as well as it's sensations, and possibly even be able to control it directly with enough time, as easily as you'd control your own body. Though the wyvern and dreaming may effect you to, you'll likely become more creative and have more vivid dreams, at the cost of your ability to fit in with much of human society. Your body will also likely become more youthful, slender and androgynous, and may even take on wyvern like traits like slit pupils or sharp teeth.

6: permanently hybridize yourself with an animal of your choice. It's useally done with mammals for compatibility reasons, but it might work with anything. This is a slow process, involving weekly injections of Phlebotinum, and you'll get more and more like the animal you choose over the course of many months. There's no actual end limit to how long you can inject the Phlebotinum for, only a few weeks for some animal features, about a year for a 50/50 split, and if you never stop taking it ever you'll end up just becoming an animal of your choice. Be warned, it's a one way trip, so while you can always become less human, you can never reverse the changes.

7: be melted into a slime. Not much more to say about it. It'll probably be the most alien your physical form can become, as you'll have no solid body parts anymore, just an amorphous mass to move around. Natrual born slimes may be suspicious of you.

8: get bitten by a vampire and become a vampire yourself. You'll get most of the powers, from strength, to healing, to not needing sleep or food, along with the requirements to drink blood, and the weakness to silver and sunlight (you still can go out in the sun, but it won't be a pleasant experience). Your body will also change a lot, losing any sex characteristics, gaining red eyes and completely desaturated skin, and becoming extremely emaciated looking. Your mouth will also be able to shift at will between a humanoid shape, and a massive horrifying maw with huge fangs and strange mouth parts for drinking blood. There's likely a vampiric community around who'll accept you.

9: become a digital only being. You won't just be transforming your body, you'll be getting rid of it. Your entire vision will display what you'd usually see on a computer monitor, and you'll be able to type and move the mouse as easily as you can move your body now. You'll be entirely online without anything human to worry about.

10: become a spiritual being. Like a less online version of the last option. You'll become a spirit, without a body to worry about. You can't touch things, but you can move them psychically. You can also choose who can or can't see you, and how you appear to people.

11: have your entire body replaced by the cloth witches. They're always looking for humans to do this to. Every part of you will be replaced with artificial materials, usually you'll get a metal skeleton, stuffing for filling, and either cloth or plastic for your skin, like a doll of some sort but big and alive. You won't have to worry about a lot of the body things like dying or being tired or in pain, but be warned, you'll have to repair yourself with new material if damaged.

(Hey, I had to delete the first version of this poll and reupload it because of something on the old post setting off my silly little trauma. I feel like such an awful person for this, I'm sorry. But yeah, please reblog and interact with this version instead.)

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butterbabyflapjack · 5 months ago

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ＣＨＡＯＳＨＥＡＲＴＳ

[ PAIRING ] Messmer the Impaler x hornsent princess!reader

[ SUMMARY ] Messmer is feared throughout the land. Your world, his flame has razed; your family gone, yourself his prisoner. He’s given you every reason to hate him. So why does heat flood your veins at his touch? Doth your wretched heart crave his to come and claim you?

[ RATING ] explicit, 18+

[ WARNINGS ] enemies to lovers as an extreme sport, mutual pining, snake bites, light bondage, monsterfucker, inhuman anatomy, size difference, hurt and comfort, passionate sex, hate sex, dark romance, slow burn, minor character death, attempted rape (not by Messmer), canon typical violence and warfare, more tags to come

✧˖° read here or ao3

CHAPTER 1

[ AUTHORS NOTE ] Soooo I did not mean for this to be so long. I got carried away–I can't help myself. And I’m sure there's parts which are messy since editing chapters this long melts my brain so I hope you’ll forgive me <3 Enjoy!

This land was not always weighed by death. Not always wrought by ash and ruin.

The Impaler, Messmer, changed that. Inked his name to its cause. Proud, it seemed, to wear the flame-soaked flag his crusade waved in the broken halls of your people.

He changed a lot of things in what would become his land of shadows, and always in manners most cruel.

The people feared him.

You feared him.

Ear craned to whispers of his name.

You lived a sheltered, privileged life, despite your lust for ungilded freedom, and your father wouldn’t tell you the state of things, how close this war had gotten. He often told you nothing at all, in truth, beyond the length of your duties as a woman and sole daughter of his house. But you feared the worst–for yourself, for those around you. Feared that death was fast approaching, for something of it shivered in the air, made its mountain calm taste ashen. And what is calm, if not what veils the savage storm which lies beyond it?

Something was coming. Of this your nightmare’s warned, though it seemed no one would voice their shared concerns. Playing fool to the obvious, as though to hide from truth would keep it from ever finding you.

You needed your brother; your only and cherished sibling. Your kin and closest friend. Needed to speak with him about your worries, needed to salve them, but he’d been garrisoned near Rivermouth for nearly two moons, a sentry against the threat of Messmer’s men–but no longer.

Today was the day he finally came home.

Your heart swims with warmth at the notion, as for days and nights you’ve fretted he may never return.

He was practically your twin, your brother Sven. People often believed such was true, though you were younger. And his imminent arrival was your first thought upon waking. To embrace him safely your sole intention when throwing yourself from your dusky blue bed at the silver of dawn, wrestling inside the arms of your emerald overcoat. Slipping on dirtied shoes your father would be ashamed of with all the clumsy, stumbled excitement of an eager child.

Sven is home…!

You were anxious to see him, even if your intentions of doing so well before your father ineluctably found him were far from merely greeting him home.

With this in mind, you rushed from your private chambers. Down through the broad, stone-floored hallways of your family’s hold, and knew not how you knew his procession arrived, only that you knew. Perhaps it was the song of the field birds, or those of the surrounding pines; that small forest which surrounds your sprawling, mountainous city. Or perhaps it was merely his presence in the air, something clung to the leaves like dappled dew, but you knew; Sven was home. He was safe, and you meant to keep it so.

The chill of the outer courtyard couldn’t receive you fast enough as you rushed past servants and guardsmen out into the dawn. The courtyard filled with horned mounts and war carts, brimming with the sounds of armor and hooves, as inside the gates amasses your brother’s wearied men at arms. And when you see Sven slipping off his steed alongside them, you fail even to call his name. Something catching in your throat as you merely bolt toward his presence, with him too distracted loosing his horned steed’s bridle to see you bounding there. Informed with a breathless grunt upon you tightly seizing him that you’ve come to greet him, swarmed by a hug that might seek to wring him of his very life.

After tensing in bewilderment, he laughed; his exhales shaking you. “Someone’s eager to greet the dawn.”

“I’d be eager to see you no matter what time it is,” comes your mumbling in his chest.

He clasps one solid arm around your far more fragile form, bronze armor twisting leather joints as he brings you to his ochre-draped chest. Holding you there for warm moments, before shifting his hold somewhat in effectively prying you off him.

He surmises you a moment, as though confused by such fierceness of emotion. Eventually smiling softly. “Good morrow to you as well, dear sister.”

“You’re home,” is all you can muster, like you can’t quite believe it still, and a chuckle harbors once more in his throat.

“I’m home,” he agrees, quite simply. “Had you room for doubt I would be?”

To this, you withhold response.

He lacks the helm of his fellow horned warriors, of whom it seems what remains of his regiment’s traveled here. Donning instead a fabric mask he now pulls from his nose and face; dark, shoulder-length hair spilling past his crown of two goat-like horns, their curves spiraling toward the sunlight.

He seems to decipher your worries as you eye his men, as you eye him ; giving your chin a small pinch in the effort to snatch you from them.

“I’m well,” he assures you. “You worry far too much.” Glancing at the vine-twisted keep far behind you, he wonders, “Have you told father of my arrival?”

Your expression’s wry. “Has it been so long you’ve forgotten I’m not entirely witless?”

One corner of his lips quirks as his hand shifts to your hair, ruffling it up a bit despite your instant protests. “Happily, it has not. And I’m glad of it. I’d prolong his inevitable criticisms for as long as possible.”

“I’m rather offended you hadn’t told me of your arrival, however,” you point out whilst slapping his giant, armored hand away, to which his dark brows pinch incredulously.

“I only just arrived! I hardly know how you knew it.”

Pressing back your responding grin, you shed the skin of levity in favor of matters more severe; ones you’ve rushed here to find him for in the first place.

“Come,” you tell him, in the guise of welcoming him home. “You must be tired. And before our unfortunate father finds you, I have questions of your time at the blockade.”

And though Sven sighs, he doesn’t stop you–allowing himself to be pulled by one hand toward the keep whilst his soldiers behind him toil with horses and armament; some greeting family, others guiding their horses back home.

“Of course you do,” he mutters, unenthused. “Though I assure you father’s relayed the state of things well enough.”

He hasn’t, and Sven must know that. Your father confides in you nothing. He loves not your gender, preferring you’d been yet another son, and nor does he love you were born without horns. He thinks less of you. Sven can’t deny this unfortunate truth. And he won’t worm his way from your questions by playing fool to it.

“I’d rather hear it from you,” you state, forcing tension from your tone.

Past chamber after chamber, you drag him searching for one vacant of any eyes that might spot you. And though Sven’s much taller than you, it’s like he’s dragging his feet in some useless attempt to dissuade you.

“My, you’re slow,” you chastise, leaning more weight toward your aims, more or less lugging the tall man forward. “Have you suffered so greatly on your journey that you now walk as a feeble old man?”

He rolls his hazel eyes, though at your taunting, his pace rises to meet yours all the same. “I’ve only just arrived,” he complains. “Have we not time to tarry?”

No, you bite back from saying. Instead steering him inside a broad, open storeroom where you two can be alone. We don’t.

The room is quite barren, many of its supplies shifted elsewhere in support of the war. And after glancing about in ensuring your privacy, you turn and stare up at your brother hard.

He looks at you with subtle perplexion. Meeting your solemn gaze as all lightness is slowly bled of him.

“What troubles you, sister?”

You’re not sure what to say. Knowing the words, yet somehow sure he will resist them.

In your troubled silence, he takes your arm in reclaiming your wandering gaze again, guiding your worry more toward his.

“What is it?”

Your mouth presses flat before you manage to force the words out.

“We have to get out of here.”

A crease weighs his brow. “What do you mean, get out of here?”

“I mean it isn’t safe here,” you tell him with more insistence in every second drawn on.

You steal another glance at the opened doorway beside you, before taking his hand to steer him deeper into the room, away from what prying ears might hear you.

“I’ve heard whispers,” you state, in a whisper all your own. Staring up with desperation, attempting to wring the truth from his dodging hold. “The Impaler…”

Sven’s forearm tenses, though you press on.

“He’s reduced Moorth to naught but ruin, has he not?”

Jawline growing tight, some faint darkness glints his eye in a way suggestive that he did not want you to know this.

“We’ll take the city back,” he says, but you won’t have his dodging.

“Father insists our paths of trade aren’t broken, but I’m not the ignorant simpleton he thinks I am,” you say, fearful and sullen. Determined for whatever ugly truth. “He’s incinerating everything, isn’t he?”

“Who?”

“You know who!” your voice now raises. “Stop treating me like some blissful, ignorant child!”

In his reluctance, silence follows, though you read him well enough. Know your brother better than anyone. And you see something beyond the stone-wall of him splinter.

“That’s why you’re here, then… Isn’t it?” you press him, as your nervous heart still trembles. “To defend these halls… Belurat far beyond them… There’s nowhere else to fall back to. He’s ransacked everything else.”

He doesn’t immediately respond. Instead studying you with the hesitance of not knowing what to say, how honest to be with you.

You demand full honesty. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Through his tension, he says not anything.

Biting the inside of your lip so harshly it stings, you take both his hands in yours, squeezing harder than you mean to.

“We have to go,” you insist in one breath, unblinking. Hushed enough to hide such treason from any walls that may have ears. “We have to leave the city. Now. We’d be fools to wait any longer.”

The line of his jaw turns to stone as he studies you.

“And go where?” he wonders at last, voice bladed against you. “There’s nowhere in reach where Messmer’s flames cannot find us.”

You’re left without answers, for there are none for such an impossible thing.

“We’ll find a way through the shadow veil,” you insist in desperation; disheartened to hear his weary scoff. Gripping his hands still tighter to win his ear. “I’ll tear the bloody thing apart myself if I have to,” you persist, not knowing if you even can, if such a thing is possible. “I’ll–”

“Enough,” your brother halts you, with such uncharacteristic firmness it stills your tongue at once.

A flicker on his brow seems to regret his harshness of it, though he carries on unyielding even so. “There’s nowhere more safe than inside these walls. And even were there not, who are we to abandon our people here? While we ourselves flee for spurious safety in the night?”

Our people…

The notion ties labyrinthine cords inside you. For though you care for your people–our people–don’t want them to suffer Messmer’s wrath…

Some of your people’s practices are those of pure horror. Traditions and rituals with shamans–with people–you’ve always found barbarous. Beyond what one can bear. Impossibly cruel.

Still. Even with the bad, there is good here. Hundreds of innocent lives that might be snuffed out.

But when it comes to their lives, or your brothers…

You choose your brother’s every time, without question. Over every single soul that elsewise exists.

You hold Sven’s gaze as obstinately as he holds yours. “I’m leaving,” you say. “Tonight. And you’re coming with me.”

He regards you still more discontentedly, as some thread inside him fails in tearing through. And when he pulls his hands from the unyielding strangle of yours, there’s the smallest smile forced to his lips that might’ve convinced anyone other than you.

“I understand your disquiet,” he says. “Truly, I do.” He brushes back some hair behind your ear, as if this alone might cease this war inside you. “But such depth of concern is unfounded. Worry not, dear sister... Messmer’s forces will not reach our city. Nor will the Tower Settlement fall.”

As you frown, his thumb swipes your chin as though to swipe the shape of it from you.

“You underestimate me,” he says, with a glisten to crinkling eyes. “I’ll protect you, as I always have. As you know I always will. In this, you can be certain. And with it allow this matter to rest.”

You merely scowl at him. “You’re… You’re being stubborn… pigheaded… I–”

He laughs before frustration lets you finish. Drawing you to him. Hugging your scowling close whilst he strokes the back of your hornless head with playful fingers.

“I’ve heard tell of my being such,” he agrees, lightly. “Enough that I fear it must be true. The pigheaded prince, they call me.”

His embrace is comfort enough that your fears are near forgotten. Though it slips through your grasping fingers all too swiftly as he lets you go, with guidance toward the doorway where the two of you both entered.

It’s obvious that he would see this conversation’s end, while you consider it hardly started.

“I also fear our father’s already loathe to’ve not addressed me,” he says, with this in mind, though with little relish. “I’m sure I’ll be his unwilling captive in the war room at least till dusk. After which…”

He pauses just before the doorway, turning you toward him with gentle hands.

“I expect you to sit with me at whatever feast he’s surely hosting.”

Your attempt at jest’s still murky with clouds of doubt. “A feast… I suppose your presence warrants as much...”

His eyes, even now, cast a sparkle. “Is that doubt on your tongue?” he ribs you. “My presence warrants several feasts, at least. Lavish ones, where the whole of the city stumbles home drunk from them.”

You look away, in no mood for his usual liveliness. And his fingers grace your upper arms in catching your gaze once more. Eyes passing between your worried ones.

“Be at peace, dear sister,” he says, with firmness reassuring, even now. “Leave worry with me. I won’t let ill befall you.” He gives your arms a squeeze. “Save me a spot at the table tonight, will you? Near some comely friend of yours. I could use a lovely distraction.”

You fight back the smallest smile in response. “I’ll have no part in you breaking some poor girl’s heart again.”

“Then I’ll take care not to break it this time,” he teases.

As he’d guessed, you did not see your brother again till the world became swallowed by night.

Your father’s great hall is thunderous. Partiers laughing, people jeering, as though the only one worried is you.

How can they all be so ignorant of what death approaches?

You wish you could shrink from it; this jovial place. But you’re not one to cast aside a more pleasant reunion with your brother than the short one you shared this morning, so you stay, beside his and your father’s empty seats at the longtable as instructed.

As a man slick with sweat reaches toward you across the table for yet another leg of lamb, a darkened presence hovers just behind where you sit.

“Is this seat taken?”

The boldness, to ask such a thing of your brothers chair. Only a nitwit would speak such stupidity, and you turn to see said nitwit standing there.

He’s older, with a tangle of horns on his brow. A thin smile and small eyes, with teeth greased with the ale which surely prompted this.

Yet another, it would seem, after your affluent hand. As if your father hadn’t plans to sell you to whoever’s hand flattered his own most.

“Yes,” you say brusquely, turning away more rudely than you mean, though you find it hard in that moment to care.

You grab the flask of ale before you and suck it down as though you mean to drown in it.

Wherever is your damnable brother?

Wiping amber from your lips with an unladylike hand, you endeavor to breathe some fresh air. Standing up far too quickly, to the effect of nearly toppling over, and it’s no wonder you don’t often drink liquor.

Wavering your way from the hall, you make your way out into night. Out, through the courtyard, knowing not where you wander, only that you’d rid yourself of all raucous and smell of that festivous hell.

Ale warms your veins, yet you still rub gooseflesh from your arms as you wander in your long-sleeved gown up the stairway of the keep’s curtain wall, thinking to look out at the darkness beyond the sprawling city’s light.

The breeze is stronger up here, on the wall’s utmost walkway. Curling the length of your skirts in about you, tugged to and fro with the wind's invisible hands. And you stare outward, full of worry, not aware that you aren’t alone.

“Didn’t know I’d have such fine company.”

It’s a gruff voice which greets you, and you turn with a start, though it’s only a grizzled guard who addresses you. A graying old man with kind eyes and a knobby head of horns. Is your father so wanting of forces he’d pluck some greybeard from his bed to man the bailey?

“Apologies,” you say, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your watch.” Vacillating a moment, before adding, “I’d stay a while, if you’d allow it.”

His eyes crease as he smiles, pushing himself up off the half-wall he’d previously leaned upon.

“Stay as long as you like,” he says. “There’s naught much to look at. Boredom’s making me numb.”

Your attempt to return his smile falls short. “I fear I may fail to salve boredom, if that’s what you hope. I’m not presently much for conversation.”

He quirks a grandfatherly brow. “Long night?”

If he wasn’t so kindly, you might be aggrieved he’s still insistent on chatting away through the night. But as it were, you just sigh. Staring out into the darkness beyond the city.

“One longer has yet to grace me.”

“Say no more,” he says, understanding. “The quiet’s a balm for such things.”

Relieved, you take him up on such advice.

You stay on the wall with this stranger who feels somehow a friend for some time. Likely longer than you ought to. And it thaws you, inch by inch, of that worry which clings; enough till you finally clear your throat to speak, to somehow return this man's kindness. Though as you turn to say a word, a flicker of light in the distance instead captures your focus.

Standing straighter, you're drawn like a moth to that faraway glisten. Watching as one glimmer turns to four. Then a dozen. Then more. Unable to turn away from whatever those pinprick lights are as they loom so far across the horizon, like stars dragged over ground. Asking the graybeard, “Do you see that…?”

You hear the old man’s armor shifting as he seems to adjust his gaze.

“...Aye,” he says at last. “I see it.”

You cannot look away. And how some flickers of light can distress you, you fail fully to grasp or name why. “What is it?”

Silence, as the graybeard beside you stares.

“...M’not sure,” he utters at length. Perturbed, a touch, it seems. “Though whatever they are… They're getting closer.”

Reaching one grizzled hand toward his neck, the old man grasps a silver looking-glass from where it dangles upon his chest, raising it in scanning outward. And with a glance at him, you wait with bated breath for word of what's seen.

“...Too dark to see for certain,” he murmurs, his tone more weighed than before. His eye staying glued to his contraption. “...There’s perhaps two dozen… N’whatever they are, they’re too large to rightly be torches…”

For stretching moments, he stares outward, as do you. Until finally he offers you his looking-glass, slipping its delicate chain off from round his neck.

“Take a look,” he offers, and in disquietude you do, not so much as thinking to decline him. Something raising every fine hair on your skin, though the reason eludes.

You see…

…Flames.

The distance holds them small, in the palm of its night-drenched hand, though with every second passed they grow larger. Wavering midst the shadows, as if lumbering side to side; as though flame itself's somehow walking.

You peer past the lens to stare with the naked eye again. And it's then you first feel it. The ground come so slowly to life. A sensation so subtle at first you cannot hear the distant thuds which crescendo each minute vibration, more and more, til you cannot deny them. A sort of hum. A twisting of earth. More rhythmic with each second dragged on.

Despite how vague and far those groans of earth, whatever could be their cause flashes images of horror inside your mind. Of something you’ve only heard tell of; a wickedness only since dreamed. Of machines, gnarled and vast, designed with the fuel of bodies. Tall as any tower. Barred as any gael. Fashioned for death and the installation of fear in any soul hapless enough to look upon them.

Just its image painted in your mind inscribes fear in you now, as was its architects intention.

You stumble back a step, eyes growing wide in the darkness as you stare at those ever-growing flames. And though you lack any proof of their purpose, some piece inside you knows what they are. Why they’re here.

The looking-glass tumbles with a delicate plink from your grasp, while the man beside you’s expression draws confusion.

“What is it?” he asks, but you’re already running. Down the bailey’s length, down stairs, through the courtyard's growing dim.

Sven.

You hear the graybeard’s horn sound behind you, and though you should find relief in what little solace its call to your father’s forces might bring you, you cannot care. It matters little. For surely those golems grow nearer with every lumbering step, and there’s nothing you or your father’s dwindling men can do to stop them, not if all tell you've heard about Messmer is true.

The ground further shakes, undeniable in what it might bring you, as you enter the sconce-scattered castle. Fighting the length of your damnable skirts as you bound in through the hallways as fast as you can, as already panic clouds your vision.

Messmer will feed your bodies to his golems one by one. Impale all others. Leave your ashes to rot on a graveyard of spears, your tombs like a forest. Your corpses charred black, with faces frozen in whatever terror his flames found you in; whatever anguish his spear brought before the mercy of death.

You run still faster; in past the broad, opened doorways of the dining hall, where merriment’s paused in favor of scattered, flummoxed eyes and panicked questioning, though even that you find hard to hear.

You need to find Sven. Need to drag him to any place far from here. You have to protect him, as he always has you–even from himself if you must, and such is his dauntless, stubborn pride that you likely will.

There’s no stopping what may come, you should have dragged him from this place far sooner, you–

You're too late.

You were too late–dammit, you–!

Reeling as you turn one hallway’s bend, you're forced to shove your way past those filing into the corridors; servants, guardsmen, guests, all traveling with purpose or else questioning if you're under attack. And it's nothing short of a blessing catching eye of Sven's height lingering above the masses, as he likewise spots you; gaze alight with relief as he fights his way toward you.

Lodged within the crowds of mismanaged havoc, he takes your arm and drags you further into the keep, beyond the rising panic of those behind you.

The ground further quakes. Iron chandeliers overhead further quivering.

How close must they be now? Those colossal, wandering flames?

“I saw them,” you tremble as Sven further leads you, knowing not where he guides, too dazed to question. “I saw them, Sven. The furnaces. I–I couldn’t–they were so far away, but they–”

“I should have sent you away this morning,” he says, almost to himself, which does nothing to allay that viperous terror twisting through you. Sounding to wrest up whatever hope he has left whilst adding, “Though it’s not too late.”

It’s then that you realize he’s leading you in the direction of the stables.

You seize his wrist; stopping him in his tracks as his impatient, worried expression turns across one shoulder, his gaze alone questioning whether you’ve succumbed to sudden madness.

“I won’t leave without you,” you tell him, knowing already his intent. That he’d send you off and remain behind here. As of course he would, seeing reason to fight, though you won’t allow it.

This stubborn, stubborn man.

He doesn’t answer. Instead attempting to drag you on again, though you dig your heels in as sediment trembles from the rumbling walls all around you.

“I’m not leaving without you!”

You don’t mean to shout, but you do.

He looks at you as though you’re a war he’s already lost.

“I can’t leave while the city needs defended,” he argues, resolve fused to his every sinew.

His valor is nothing short of infuriating.

“Then I’m staying with you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Should you put me on a mount I’ll simply ride right back,” you protest, gaze growing wild. “You can’t make me go anywhere unless you ride by my side in ensuring it!”

His look is of utter frustration. But as horns blare and some distant, bone-deep tremor once more shakes the earth, inspiring a ripple of far away screams in the castle, there isn’t time to dissuade you. And with an agitated breath, he diverts course in leading up a set of winding stairs–those leading toward the hallway of your bedroom, where he guides you with swiftness.

“Stay here,” he says, ushering you inside your chambers. Seeming barely to accept such a compromise. “Bar the door. Remain hidden. I’ll return for you.”

The rapid beating of hooves and heels sounds far below your bedroom's balcony window, and too soon Sven's turned to leave, with you grabbing his wrist before he is able. “Don’t go! Don’t… Don’t go out there, Sven…!”

Tears burn your eyes, their threat overwhelming your lashes, and the resolve of Sven's own expression crumbles somewhat to see it.

He takes your face gently in his both hands while you plead with him once more, “Don’t go…” Steering you just a touch closer in placing a kiss upon your brow.

“Do as I’ve told you,” he bids, resolutely. “Allow no other entrance. I’ll return here as soon as I’m able. You have my word of this.”

And with this, he is gone. His warmth left on your cheeks as tears spill where his touch had been.

You staunchly refuse the cruel suggestion of your heart; that this may be the last time you see him. Uncertain how you’ll barricade your door with no lock on its innermost side, though you’re desperate to keep your mind busy, to heed Sven’s instructions. So with great effort, you squeeze yourself in behind your bed’s massive headboard, barely managing to shove it inch by awkward inch away from the stone-hewn wall. Shoving with all your strength until the mass of it blockades the doorway.

Time is as much a weapon as any sword. And as you wait for your brother's return, heart tangled by vines in your chest, you seek to pry yourself from terror enough to stumble out onto your balcony, where night wraps you up in its arms.

The song of steel and iron grows ever louder from down below. Your view half-concealed by the edge of the castle. Horns sounding more in the darkness. The rumble of beasts and mounts and men shaking into the ground. And your strained eyes grow wider upon seeing a haze of flame glowing just outside the city, bewitching the air to a blistering hellscape of dancing cinder and molten fog.

Such a harrowing sight overwhelms you.

Whatever has come, it is here.

Your hands grip desperately to the terrace’s balustrade as the world around you abruptly lurches in place, and with a vicious crack one section of walls round the city erupts into pieces, struck by some mammoth blow beyond what your vision can see. Stones tumbling like naught more than ash as a behemoth lumbers in through the wreckage. A mountainous cage of a being, weighed slow by its body of metal; stomach burning with the piled corpses of past feasts. Its silhouette singed against darkness, twisted by hundreds of arms reaching out through the bars of its belly; burned slow enough to long to be free.

You long to look away, yet can scarcely remember to breathe. The cities outmost towers growing brighter with ashes and flame in a nauseating dance of destruction that would see all before it laid waste, as behind the crushed path of each furnace, Messmer's forces are free to bleed in.

The city you've known all your life slowly transforms beyond all recognition. Your sense of time broken, sands scattered to the wind, as you watch the growing onslaught in horror. Your pupils shrinking from a vicious, sudden trail of horrid brightness as tendrils of flame lick the air, weaving through it, met soon by a chorus of screams that grow shrill before melting. Lungs scorched in a firestorm that sets the very sky on fire, and you've never seen anything like it. Like a dragon assaults your city, though even they cannot wield such a vicious flame.

You can do nothing but watch as fire tangles through buildings and streets. Your fingernails digging into your palms till the marks left behind may soon bleed.

Sven…

You… You can’t just stay here, sequestered in your room like this-!

You have to find him,

You have to help him–!

But if you leave, how might he find you amidst the chaos?

You have to stay here. He needs to know where you are when he surely comes back, for he will. He’ll come back. His word was given.

Villagers run through the streets as flame leaks its way its alleys; into the very reaches of your father’s keep, as its bailey comes crashing at the slam of a furnace golem’s gnarled excuse for a fist. And as your world shakes you hear Messmer’s men storming in through the courtyard. Hear the clashing of metal grow near. The screams of terror in hallways, all while fear tears through your bosom like an animal clawing to get out.

Where is your brother?!

It feels as though an eternity has held you breathless in its clutches, and as the sounds of war draw nearer, your walls feel to close in.

Footsteps soon sound within the corridor behind your shuttered doorway. Soldiers grunting, weapons clattering to the ground beside a distant woman’s shriek. And then the handle of your door’s taken hold of. The wood of it shuddered by what seems an impatient hand; rattled against how your bed keeps it fully from opening.

Your attention hones tightly toward it.

Sven…?

It remains as a thought, your throat’s tautness not letting you speak it. As you watch in a silence that would strip all reason raw while the door falls eerily still.

You’ve no time to react before your chamber’s entrance blasts violently open in a hailstorm of splintered wood and flame, whipping the room with embers as you stumble back and scream from the ruined blockade of your doorway.

Snowflake cinders hang loosely in the air as your eyes strain through the rubble, and you know not the man who stands there in the wreckage, whose outline swirls amidst wisping smoke, though he’s wearing Messmer’s red. A pointed helm adorns his looming outline, its steeple skyward, and from his breadth a dripping crimson cowl falls lapping at his heels. Armored head to toe in blackened steel save the shape of his slowly smiling lips as he beholds you. And though you can’t see his gaze through the intricate, beak-like visor he wears, you you can feel his curious eyes scanning over your shape.

“Well… What have we here,” he croons above the distant hymn of bloodshed; that war below now muted by growing unease. “A hornless trollop all alone in her chambers… Tucked away, it would seem, just for me…”

His cruel lips curve as you instinctively falter from him, recoiling further toward the terrace at your back, even when its height would further trap you.

The man steps in through your doorway's ruin, unperturbed by anxious lack of welcoming him in.

“You aren’t quite as foul as the rest of them,” he observes, almost to himself. In no real hurry to approach you, as instead he makes a game of dread. Bits of broken wood twisting beneath his heavy, prowling footsteps as he draws ever closer, and though you glance to the ravaged doorway behind him, with him its gate its passage feels to shrink.

“Not the talkative sort?” he wonders, idly, with a falsely exhaustive sigh. “What a pity… I'd hear your tearful pleas, were it up to me.”

His drawing nearness springs a trap in you, and unthinkingly you try to flee. Though as you bolt in sprinting past him you find he’s far faster than you could have believed.

He’s snatched your wrist in his harshly armored grip before you can even flinch, his every finger steel and pointed. Flinging you without mercy onto the rubble of your bed as a cry tears from your chest, your body shaken as you tumble.

“Such a morsel I’ve found myself,” he breathes, becoming feverish as a predator above prey. “You do look hornless… Though I’d be sure of it. Let us see if you have any defilements in places I haven’t yet seen, hm?”

Terror wraps fists around you, and though you scramble to get up, to run, he’s on you in an instant. The weight of him shackling you down against your ruined mattress on the floor. The snakelike scales of his ruby tabbard scraping up your kicking legs as he roughly straddles down your writhing form, and though you strike his half-masked face in desperation it does naught but scrape your fingers raw.

He laughs at the attempts to dissuade him. Snatching your wrists and squeezing until you fear your bones might crack.

“There’s that flame,” he croons, tone gleefully debased. “I thought for a moment you’d bore me. How long might that tiny flame flicker before tamping out, I wonder?”

With hungry hands, he grips and tears the flowing fabric of your gown at the seams, ripping it from your thighs as alarm makes you mindless, has you kicking out wildly in the attempt to be free.

“Let me go!” you scream, voice stripped by panic. “Let me go! Get off of me–!”

His breathy laughter’s a horrible thing. But all at once it’s frozen in his throat; locked away as his muscles all seize. Its cruelty marred instead to a painful choke, something congealed, as a swing of metal shears the air behind him, slashing through what seems his severed spine.

His form grows rigid with the realization of death. Wavering in how he pins you, before slumping down like a lifeless tree whilst your lungs are crushed beneath him. And though you fight to claw him off, his weight of steel proves too much for your waning strength.

Some hand seizes the cowl which drapes the dead man’s neck, tearing his body from you. And with a gasp of needed breath you’re overcome to see Sven, like a beacon above you; his red-slicked sword in hand.

Blood and ash fill the lines of his handsome face. Concern whiting his brow as he reaches down to take your shell-shocked hand.

There’s little time to coddle you.

“Are you hurt?”

Tension cleaves to every inch of you, though as you struggle to swallow, you also strive to nod your head.

“I’m… I’m fine.”

The need to thank him once again for saving you, as it seems he always does, trembles past your mind with you too overwhelmed to fully grasp it. And Sven’s jaw is hard as he holds your trembling hand, his fingers weaving through your own.

“Come,” he says, not wasting words. Towing your stumbling fragility with him from the horror of your chambers.

You haven’t made it far at all before the clamor of many footsteps resounding in these hallways soon assails you. And round the corridor's bend, just several yards before you, comes a cluster of soldiers in regalia you don’t recognize, so they must be Messmer’s men. Led by a knight in red like that of your bedroom.

Their party pauses upon sighting you, as does yourself and a stiffening Sven. His giant hand gripping yours more fiercely.

Silence, as time strips thin and the lot of you warily eye one another.

“You there,” the red knight says, his voice like brass. “You are the son of the false, impure king, unjustly throned in these lands, I presume?”

Shifting slowly forward, Sven secures himself one step before where you stand, stricken beside him.

“Would that I were,” he says, ever defiant. “What difference does it make?”

The knight before you slowly smiles, though its quick to fade away.

“We’d make a sigil of your broken body in the courtyard,” he says. “I’d hoped to fell you outside. Alas, we must now drag you there, instead.”

The line of Sven's shoulders grows taut, before abruptly he shoves you from him, your hand stripped from his–pushing you further behind him.

“Go,” he orders, not glancing back. “Run.”

You tremble, and cannot move but to shake your head. Salt soon stinging your vision. Unwilling to obey him.

“No–”

“Go!” he shouts, yet still you cannot heed him. Will not heed him.

The red knight tilts his chin, gesturing three soldiers carry on before him. And already your brother’s sword is raised; knocking back one spear that would see him dead, and then the another. Repelling blows as each comes raining in, trading strikes through the bedlam.

He holds them off for much longer than any man rightly should, such is your brother, such is his mastery of sword. Sweat soaks his brow, blood spilling through his armor with every blow he fails to break. Felling two of Messmer's men as two more are sent by the man in red to take their place, and you're terrified he’ll tire before the end of them.

You scarcely notice, at first, how beneath his steps bubbles forth a glowing pool of red.

You watch in pure horror as flames like vines slowly leak up through the cracks of the floorboards, tendrils of searching crimson, while Sven’s too caught by battle to heed them. And the moment you cry out for him to run is already a cry too late, as those flames burst forth with sudden violence. Flinging from their center a massive spear, pierced up from the very ground he stands on, as though formed from the shadow of his feet.

The spear flings forth with impossible strength, goring high into the ceiling like the shoot of a savage, crooked tree. It’s hilt still buried in the ground as its speartip thucks up high in the timber above you; piercing through Sven's middle, metal lifting through his ribs.

His body's rigid where he hangs, high above where once he'd stood fighting. And you forget what feeling even is as his body gradually falls limp. Sword slipped from wilting fingers. Clattering to the ground so far below his hanging feet.

All you can see is him and that spear he hangs on. An awful monument to a moment that will live with you forever. And you stare at this nightmare of him; balking backward. Stare, as your heart crumbles into pieces, and you can do nothing else.

Sven…

You can’t find breath enough to even cry his name, though it trembles in the pit carved where your heart and lungs once lived.

Those soldiers still alive before you part within the haze that strangles your breath, making way as someone else approaches, though you hardly notice as you stand there. Defeated. Tears blurring your vision to a melted, burning thing.

….Sven…!

He cannot hear those cries you fail to utter. And even should you scrape them from your chest, he’ll never hear your words again. Nor your larks. Nor your laughter.

Just this once, you might've protected him. Just this once. Yet here you've failed him.

“Do not prolong the inevitable,” a low, serrated voice condemns from midst your shrouded torment, and you blink away what tears you can, straining through grief to see a dreadfully towering man, so tall no common hallway could ever hope to hold him.

You’ve only heard tell of Messmer. That his hair is red as bloodied fire. That his eye, his only eye, is as gold as Marika’s sins. That two winged snakes adorn him, with agile minds and bodies it seemeth all their own. And yet even those two snakes now watch you, along with their wretched master. Their emerald eyes trained to your every movement, though you shift none.

You bite back your tears; anguish giving way to anger. Your jawline like glass, so hard and close to splintering, but still you’ll grit your jaw up at this red-maned savage as though on his neck you were clamping down, tearing the very life from him.

His captain steps forward, but Messmer’s lengthy, muscled arm raises scarcely enough to halt him in place, though his order's immediately heeded. And though his captain’s face lay hidden behind a snake-like helm so similar to Messmer’s own, you can sense the confusion which braces through him.

“Not her,” says Messmer, so low you scarcely hear him. And you stare, at this monstrous man, while he meets your gaze with what seems not an ounce of pity.

His eye, you admit, is a strangely beguiling thing. Like a spell that might dissect the furthest reaches of you. Its gold so strangely brilliant, like a pinprick of flame, gnawing through the darkness.

“...Take her,” his deep voice at length breaks through the enchantment of his gaze, and you at once feel panic swell at such an order. “We couldst use another specimen for the storehouse.”

And then, he is gone; turned without another word said, as though he matters of much more import to attend to than whatever in any hell his decreed fate as ‘specimen’ might bring you.

You far prefer death.

When Messmer’s captain comes for you, obedient dog that he is, you immediately try to run only for your gown to snag you back within his clutches. And as he lifts you beneath one arm like a satchel of wheat, you snarl and you fight with every bit of strength remained in you; transformed into a hopeless, feral thing. Clawing at his legs, biting at his wrist despite his armor blunting every blow at him, until he slaps you so hard your vision blurs and all sound’s replaced by the ringing of your skull, your body hanging momentarily limp.

It does no good, your fighting, though you scream and writhe and fail to stave back tears as you’re carried from your father’s ruined castle.

The world outside is smoldering waste.

All is fire and ash.

You see no one else left living.

You have nothing.

Nothing.

This demigod of flame has taken everything from you. Has burned away your heart to an ashen pit. And while you are still living, you will do everything within your power to gift him the very same.

[ AUTHORS NOTE ] f’s in chat for Sven, rip gone too soon 😔 I actually felt really bad killing him, but I wanted to give you a legitimate, visceral reason to hate Messmer so he had to go. Anyway thanks for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts 💕

#messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #messmer the impaler x reader #elden ring #soulsborne #chaos hearts

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littleredwing89 · 2 months ago

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FAMOUS [PART EIGHT]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “Stop ruining the mood”. “Oh… there’s a mood?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Warnings: Nothing

A/N: Sending all my love to you wonderful readers & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo ❤️❤️

———

MIDNIGHT DELICACY

———

The night air was cool as Jason pulled into the near-empty parking lot of the late-night drive-through. The hum of the engine faded, leaving only the soft buzz of neon lights and the distant chirping of crickets. You had insisted on this stop, craving something sweet and simple after the long, stressful day.

Jason glanced around, taking in the desolate scene. “I’m starting to see why you like these 1 a.m. food runs,” he mused.

You smiled, leaning back in your seat, the smell of greasy food already wafting through the air. “I don’t get hassled as much. It’s a welcomed break.”

Jason nodded, his eyes softening. “I can imagine.”

You turned to him, your voice quieter now. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate my fans or where they’ve gotten me. But sometimes… I just want a little—”

“Peace?” Jason finished for you, his eyes locking with yours.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah… I just don’t get to do normal things as much anymore.”

Jason smirked, taking a sip of his drink. “It is a little creepy, though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “Stop ruining the mood.”

“Oh… there’s a mood?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

Jason chuckled, his voice dropping to a more playful tone. “Bet you bring all your boyfriends here, don’t you?”

You tried to play it off, but the hint of jealousy in his voice was unmistakable. “Well, not exactly.”

Jason turned to you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Oh? What do you mean?”

You shrugged, your cheeks warming as you glanced down at your feet. “I don’t exactly remember the last proper date I went on.”

Jason’s teasing smile faded, replaced with something softer, more genuine. “Well, aren’t you lucky I’m here.”

You laughed, but it was nervous, your heart beating a little faster. “Does it really count if you’re getting paid?”

Jason swallowed, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Well, I mean… we could go when I’m not on the job. If you wanted?”

You blinked, surprised, your chest tightening with something unfamiliar. “Are you paying?” you asked, trying to lighten the moment.

Jason grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “On my wage? Guess I’ll have to start saving up.”

You laughed again, feeling the tension ease. “First date will be my treat. I’ll just charge you if I get bored.”

Jason’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Trust me, princess, that ain’t gonna happen.” He leaned over, grinning mischievously as he stole a bite of your ice cream.

“Hey!” you protested, swatting his hand away. “Get your own!”

He smirked, taking another bite. “I’ve got one here.”

You narrowed your eyes, pointing to the corner of his lips. “You’ve got some—”

Jason raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his lips. “Oh?”

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Your eyes locked with his, the playful banter fading as the space between you shrunk. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin, his eyes darkening with something unspoken. Your heart raced as you instinctively leaned closer, the tension between you thickening.

But just as your lips were about to meet, Jason’s elbow hit the steering wheel, and the car horn blared, making both of you jump back in surprise.

You burst into laughter, the moment shattered, while Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “Smooth,” you teased, still giggling.

Jason shot you a sheepish grin, the heat between you not quite gone, just postponed. “Yeah, well… there’s always next time.”

You smiled, the thought of a “next time” hung in the air between you.

——

Jason and you lingered in the car for a moment after the horn blared, both still laughing softly, but the undercurrent of something heavier remained. His eyes flicked to your lips more than once, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what would’ve happened if the moment hadn’t been interrupted. The tension between you crackled, like an unspoken invitation hanging in the air, too tempting to ignore but too delicate to address outright.

Jason finally let out a low sigh, running a hand through his hair as he broke the silence. “Well, I guess that’s one way to ruin the moment,” he said with a chuckle, but his voice was a little rough, as though he wasn’t quite ready to joke about it.

You swallowed, your heart still racing from the near-kiss, and tried to ease the mood. “Maybe the universe was saving you from embarrassment, Jay.”

He leaned back in his seat, eyes glancing over at you with a smirk. “Or maybe it was saving you,” he shot back, his voice teasing, but there was something else behind his words, a softness that made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

The weight of what almost happened hovered between you both, neither of you willing to push it further, but the moment still lingered, making your skin prickle with a mixture of warmth and frustration.

“Jason…” you began, feeling the need to say something—anything—but not knowing exactly what that was. You didn’t want to make things awkward, but you also didn’t want to let it slip away as if it hadn’t meant anything.

He turned toward you, his expression unreadable but his eyes soft. “Yeah?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your phone buzzed from your lap, breaking the moment again. You glanced at the screen, a reminder notification popping up.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, realising the time. “I have a meeting with Roman in the morning. You know how cranky he gets if I’m late.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “Ugh—who needs an early morning meeting?” His voice trailed off, but you could hear the clear disappointment haunting his tone.

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into your seat. “Yeah, tell me about it. If we don’t get home soon, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jason gave a small, reluctant nod, his eyes shifting toward the road. “Alright, princess. Let’s get you home before he blows a fuse.”

As he started the engine, the moment between you both seemed to settle into a strange kind of peace. There was still something unspoken hanging in the air, the missed kiss now a lingering thought that neither of you could shake. But the conversation had shifted—back to reality, back to responsibilities—and neither of you dared to push the boundary that had been so close to breaking.

——

The ride back was quieter this time, not awkward, but filled with the awareness of what almost happened. You stole glances at Jason, watching the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, how his jaw tightened every time the thought seemed to cross his mind. And every time you met his eyes, there was a spark, a question neither of you was quite ready to answer.

As the car pulled up to your building, Jason shifted in his seat, turning to face you. “You should get some sleep before that meeting. Roman’s already a pain. Don’t give him more ammunition.”

You gave a tired smile, still feeling the weight of what hadn’t been said. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.” You paused, hand lingering on the door handle, before turning back to him. “Thanks for tonight, Jay. It… It was nice.”

Jason’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension seemed to melt into something warmer, something comfortable. “Anytime, princess,” he said quietly, the nickname sending a little flutter through your chest.

Your head span with the lingering feeling of what could have been. As you headed up to your apartment, you couldn’t help but wonder if this missed moment was just the beginning—if the next time you were both caught in the current, neither of you would pull away.

And the thought made your heart race all over again.

***

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flmer · 1 year ago

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★ oh no! it's the baby apocalypse! (2) ┊ wc:

content: talks of baby stuff, crackfic?

pairings: idia & malleus x gn!reader. (seperated)

note! I finally did the part 2! although the last part would be Kalim and Jamil.. This was stuck in my drafts and I just noticed now. part 1

idia.

idia is the type of dad to spoil his child since he doesn't really know what else to do, he isn't used to saying affectionate words but he does make it up by spending time with the child and spoiling them.

I believe that idia has some experience in handling kids because of ortho so he wouldn't technically be completely clueless about fatherhood. (also there's a chance that he watched those family animes)

when he first saw his child, he froze. he froze like an ice statue because he's in shock like wow?? is that really his baby?? (the baby literally has his fire hair.)

he's awestruck because of how adorable the baby looks and not to mention how cute it is... idia promises that he'd do anything to make his child smile

he spends his free time bonding with his child by watching numerous animes and playing games that's child friendly of course, even though the child could barely talk... but it is quite endearing to hear the nonsensical babble of your child and idia nodding along with whatever they just said as id he understands them.

“I probably won't be able to buy that much merch anymore... unless I make my child enjoy gaming and anime >:) ”

malleus.

he would isolate his child without knowing he's isolating his child inside his castle. it was how he was raised but his child won't be completely isolated just protected. malleus wants his child to not have the same childhood like the one he had.

malleus would be king by the time he had a child but that doesn't mean his child would rarely see him, no. malleus grew up without experiencing his mother and father’s presence in his childhood that's why he makes sure his child always sees him. malleus's child would practically be in the throne room playing with toys and malleus's tail and also talking gibberish nonsense with the guards that's stationed in the throne room mostly silver and sebek. the scenario goes like this: malleus on his throne listening to silver and sebek's reports while his eyes sometimes stray to his child and his mouth would twitch and turn upwards- the reason was because his child is now currently munching on silver's long cloak while their hand was occupied with grasping sebek's pants. it was an eandering sight.

the first time he saw his child, he cried. the fearsome dragon fae king was shedding tears like a newborn baby and it was because of the mere sight of his child. when the child first opened their eyes- malleus saw his own striking electric green eyes staring right back at him and that was what made him have a wide smile on his face as his child reaches for his horns with their small closed fists.

lilia sometimes makes sure to visit just so he could spend some time with his precious grandchild, yes, his bangs got burned again by a similar green fire that came out of the mouth of the baby he's holding. malleus saw this happen and his reaction was to chuckle while sebek fretted over lilia's now smoking bangs but lilia only waved him off saying that he's used to it by now, and silver is just standing there with a soft smile on his face.

malleus takes you and his child out every night to walk with him in a forest that malleus used to go to back when he was a child whenever he feels overwhelmed with his feelings. the forest is a beauty with it's thorned vines that seems to wrap around trees, there were also some glowing fairies lingering and lighting the beautiful forest. the forest was the meaning of peace and beauty.

malleus hums a familiar lullaby that he used to sing for you back when you both were still at nrc, his hands caressing you and your child's hair as he wraps his arms around the both of you protectively as if the both of you would disappear out of his arms.

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doomhands-jr · 8 months ago

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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 1

Noah Sebastian X Reader Summary: Noah is a delinquent and you are the pastor's daughter.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist Banner by @flowerynerds

__________

“Why would someone do something like that?” you asked, staring down at the picture on your phone. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” you dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. “I can only guess that he’s clearly lost and hurting.” You stared once again at the photo displayed across your screen. A black, horned figure stared back at you with the letters HAIL SATA scrawled in red underneath. At least they didn’t finish the last word. Could someone go to Hell for saying that? You weren’t sure. It made you uncomfortable though.

You didn’t like to think about anyone going to Hell. Suffering for eternity with no way out? A lifetime of being burned alive? Your throat started to close up and you knew you had to stop thinking about it too much or you would have an anxiety attack. That happened sometimes when you thought about Hell too much. It’s why you always tried to make sure you were on the right side of the Bible.

“Do they know who did it?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Caught him trying to scale a fence. The paint on his forefinger matched the colors on the wall. He spent the night in custody. They’re asking if I want to press charges.”

“Do you?” you asked.

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to negotiate his sentence. Some community service would do him some good, don’t you think?” “I suppose,” you mentioned, not sure where your dad was going with this. “I need you to monitor it.”

“Monitor what?” you said, not quite putting two and two together.

“The community service. Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, shaking your head rid of the thoughts that had crept in. You’d started thinking about Hell again. “Why me?” you asked. “Because I trust you,” he said. You groaned internally. “I need you to witness to this boy. He’s a lost soul and needs to be brought to the Lord. It’s only for a few weeks. Saturday mornings from eight to noon. I know you can do that.”

You sighed. Your father always did this. You were tired of the guilt trips, but they still worked every time. Besides, what’s more important to you? Sleeping in on Saturdays or someone’s eternal fate? You were being selfish. “Fine, but I want a leadership role at the youth center this year.”

“Done. I’ll call you later with more details. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You slumped forward. There goes the rest of your Saturday mornings. They were the only day out of the week you actually got to sleep in, since you had Church every Sunday morning.

At least you’d be working closely with Isaac during the week. You melted a little even thinking about him.

He was the praise and worship leader for the campus youth group, and the most attractive man you’d ever seen. You’d kissed last summer, but haven’t made progress on that front since.

You sighed and fell back into bed, acknowledging that this was likely your only opportunity to sleep in for a while, allowing your thoughts to stay on Isaac and go as far as you could before it turned to lust (a sin).

_________

The chilly mid-October wind sent shivers coursing through you. Three weeks had passed since your dad had informed you that you’d be conducting community service. It was 7:56 AM and you were standing, clipboard in hand, next to the marred wall of the youth center, waiting for the delinquents to show up.

Delinquents, plural. Apparently, they caught the guy’s accomplice with the help of security footage.

“Excuse me, am I in the right place?”

You looked up from the clipboard to see a young man with a friendly smile.

“Name?” you asked.

“Nick,” he answered. You looked down at your clipboard and wrote the time next to his name.

Nick had striking features. He wore a backwards ball cap, a black hoodie, black jeans, and a denim jacket overtop. A nose ring decorated one side of his face. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through a mop of messy brown hair in a way that let you know that he knew it was attractive, before placing the cap back on. He had a friendly, disarming smile that you didn’t expect from a delinquent. It was charming in a sickly-sweet sort of way.

“Good. Okay yes, you’re in the right place. Do you know where the other guy is?” you asked.

“Noah? Not sure. He should be here soon though. He knew we had this today.” It was 7:59. You had to report him to your father if he wasn’t there by 8:00. You sighed. Was it so hard for people to be on time? You arrived to everything at least five minutes early and had no problem with it. It irked you whenever people blatantly disregarded rules, but you supposed you could have expected so much from someone who vandalized houses of worship for fun. In your mind, that was just mean.

Your father characterized him as someone who was just sad and hurting. And maybe he was, but he was also a jerk.

When he still hadn’t arrived at 8:10, you determined he probably wasn’t going to and figured that there was no sense wasting time.

“Okay Nick. You see the buckets and sponges over there? Grab a sponge and start scrubbing.”

“Aye,” he answered and walked off. He was much more chipper than you’d have expected for a criminal. But then again, Jesus hung out with criminals, so they couldn’t be all bad.

You didn’t talk much. Nick got to work quickly and you observed, not knowing what else to do. A semi-awkward silence fell between the two of you and you busied yourself flipping through the pages on your clipboard.

It had all the rules and regulations you needed to follow, as well as the schedule for the next twelve weeks. Nick and Noah were to report to each location by 8:00 AM sharp. Failure to do so would mean another week of community service tacked on to the end of the program. They could potentially shorten their sentence if they demonstrated punctuality and good behavior, but not before they’d scrubbed and painted the wall they’d vandalized.

You’d read through all the instructions several times, yet you still had a feeling you were underprepared for this. Were you really just supposed to watch them? Or were you supposed to help them, too? You deliberated for a while until a deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m here for my community service?”

You were greeted by a tall, slender figure with long brown hair hiding a pair of dark, indifferent eyes. He wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and matching black jeans with rips on the knees. On his arms, you could see a spiderweb of tattoos extending down to his hands and all the way up his neck.

This, you realized, was exactly what you had in mind when you pictured a delinquent. Everything about him whispered ‘danger.’ He wasn’t dressed all too different than his counterpart Nick, but something about the way he carried himself made him seem much darker. He wasn’t the sickly sweet type. If Nick was children’s cough syrup, Noah was arsenic. “Noah?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse. He grunted in affirmation but made no other move. You checked the time. 8:42.

“You’re forty-two minutes late,” you said. He blinked, but didn’t respond any further. “Which means I’ll have to report this.”

He shrugged. “So report it.”

His demeanor wasn’t something you’d ever experienced. In the church, everyone was always friendly and accommodating. It was a stark contrast to his counterpart, Nick, who reminded you of many of your church friends with how willing to cooperate he seemed.

“Well, grab a sponge and get to work, I guess.”

He did exactly that, wordlessly taking his place beside his accomplice. Together they scrubbed, not making much progress overall. It took them the entire session to reach a state where some of the graffiti could be painted over.

As they worked, you observed. For the most part, Noah remained stoic, but every once in a while, Nick would get him to crack a smile, either by flicking water at him to making some humorous comment you couldn’t quite catch.

Noah’s smile, you noticed, changed his face completely. It was much more innocent than you’d expect. It was rare, but genuine when it did occur, which humanized him to a point you were uncomfortable with, considering how angry at the two of them you still were.

“That’s all the time we have for this session,” you said once it had reached noon. “See you next week.” Without even saying bye or offering to help clean up the supplies, Noah dropped his sponge and walked away. Nick was a little kinder, telling you he’d see you next week and placing his sponge back in the bucket.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” you muttered to yourself, and got to work cleaning up the supplies.

_____________

“So what was it like?” your friend Ava asked.

You shrugged in response. “I don’t know. They’re delinquents,” you said. “One of them was fine, I guess. The other was a bit of a jerk. But it was just kind of boring, really. They didn’t talk much. I just kind of watched them work.”

“A jerk how?” she asked. You could tell she was desperate for more information. She’d been hoping to hear an exciting story about how “bad kids” acted, and you got where she was coming from. You’d always been curious, too.

The church elders (your parents included) had always warned you about who to befriend and who to stay away from. These bad kids who go out drinking every night and get themselves into bad situations. In their stories, they always end up addicted to drugs and feeling lost with God in their lives. These were the people who needed to be witnessed to. But how were you supposed to tell them about God if you were also supposed to avoid them? It was all very confusing to you.

Both you and Ava had grown up entirely within the church community. Both of you had gone to private school, and while there were definitely some people there who were more misbehaved than the two of you, there were no real bad kids.

The biggest scandal you’d seen is when you found out Jason Carver had sex with his girlfriend. Which, admittedly, was a pretty big scandal because you were under the impression that everyone in that school had taken their purity vows seriously.

You couldn’t fathom what possessed Jason to commit such an outright sin. You were sure Jesus would forgive him, but seriously. What was he thinking?

Although the boys hadn’t been given quite as many purity talks as the girls had, so that could have had something to do with it. Each of the girls in the school were given a silver ring called a “promise ring” signifying their promise to stay pure until marriage. There was a whole big ceremony, too. Getting your promise ring was a huge deal in school. It was basically a coming-of-age ceremony.

You fiddled with the silver ring still on your finger. Ava had a matching one. You two had also made a friend pact where you’d both stay virgins until marriage. Though you weren’t sure how that would work out, because both of you had plans to marry Isaac and both of you were stubborn enough to hold out for him.

Regardless, the church community was pretty close-knit, and neither of you had interacted much with people who didn’t follow the same code of conduct. You could tell Ava was fascinated by the idea but so far, nothing too exciting had happened.

“Both of them drink alcohol though,” you mentioned. “I overheard them talking about a party they’d gone to the previous Friday, and Noah had mentioned he was really hungover and that’s why he’d woken up late.” He said this only to Nick, not to you.

“Wow. I wonder what that’s like.”

“Ava!” You scolded.

“Oh, whatever. Jesus himself drank wine,” and you just shrugged, because you didn’t have an argument for that. She was right. You supposed drinking didn’t go against the Bible. Just the rules your parents had laid out for you.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to practice,” she said. “Maybe we’ll get to see Isaac.”

You picked up your pace.

____________

Isaac was indeed there, looking very Jesus-like with his long hair in a bun on top of his head and his scruffy face. You supposed that might have been what drew you to him in the first place. He wore loose-fitting jeans slung low on his waist, a pair of Birkenstock sandals, and a plain white V-neck tight across his chest. He had a silver cross necklace that matched the silver purity ring.

Isaac was impossible not to fall for. He played guitar in the worship band, had the voice of an angel, and really practiced what he preached. So much so that it had been him to stop your kiss from progressing last summer, saying he didn’t want to do anything with you that either of you would regret.

A man who protects your purity rather than challenges it? What could be hotter?

“Okay, let’s run through ‘He Reigns’ again,” said Isaac, and he began to strum out the opening lines. Ava was on keys, Darian was on drums, and Josh played bass. You and Isaac sang.

It’s the song of the redeemed

Rising from the African plain.

It’s the song of the forgiven

Drowning out the Amazon rain.

You launched into a harmony with Isaac. This was one of your all-time favorite worship songs. You loved harmonizing with him. Your voices blended together so perfectly that the act felt almost intimate. Sometimes you’d hit a really beautiful note and you and Isaac would lock eyes and it felt like you were singing to each other.

Every night before bed, you prayed that God would bring the two of you together. And perhaps if you were good enough, he would answer those prayers, so you also prayed that He would be with you to help you not sin as much. Anything to improve your chances.

________

Noah was not thinking about his community service tomorrow. Six beers deep, he was only thinking of how he could see Madison Lewis’s nipples through her silky white shirt and that he’d like to wrap his lips around them if he could.

Madison hasn’t let him hit it in a while. Not that he was desperate. He’s had plenty of women since her, and will have plenty of women in the future. But she was always a particularly good fuck. Something about how unashamedly loud she moaned his name—especially when there were people just outside the bedroom door—really sent him.

She’d been making eyes at him all night, and he had a feeling tonight would be his chance if he played his cards right.

He kept his distance from her. She liked to play hard to get but didn’t want someone that simped for her too hard. He’d have to find his moment. If he knew her well enough, she’d get tired of the charade and present an opening to him, and then he’d move in for the kill.

That’s what set Madison apart. Noah was a hunter. He had no problem getting laid on a regular basis, but most women made it too easy. He barely had to show them attention for them to be practically throwing themselves at him. A good fuck is a good fuck, but he preferred a challenge.

Not that she would be super challenging, but at least she understood the game. Fucking her was like playing chess. There was strategy involved and she knew how to hold her own. The better he played, the more rewarding she’d be. She was reliable in that way.

Plus, she was one of the only women who knew what it was. She didn’t linger. She got in and got out without trying to pretend it was something it wasn’t—or worse, trying to force it into something it was never meant to be.

Too many times, he’d bang a girl who had played it cool with him at first, only to get obsessed and practically stalk him afterwards until he was forced to tell her he wasn’t interested. Whoever it was would cry and make him out to be the asshole, when he had been up-front about what he wanted from the beginning. For some reason, they always believe they were going to be the one to change him. They never were.

And okay, he might be an asshole in the fact that he always knows which of them will get clingy. By now, he’s had enough experience to tell. They come on too strong. They give him too many openings, worrying that he somehow didn’t understand what they were trying to communicate if he responded the first time. He got the hint. He just wasn’t interested.

At least he wasn’t interested if there were still other options available. If he got to the end of the night and all the good options had been taken, he’d throw them a bone and give them a good time, fully knowing that he was in for a week or two of headaches after they realized that he wasn’t going to suddenly fall in love.

Madison caught his eye and gave him a once-over. He was in. She turned to climb the stairs, exaggerating the sway of her hips as she walked and he followed, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on a nearby table and following her up.

_________

“Any idea where he is?” you asked Nick.

It was 8:07 and Noah still hadn’t shown up yet. Nick shrugged. “I was with him at Jolly’s party last night, but he disappeared and didn’t come back to our place. My guess is with Madison.” “I don’t know any of those people,” you said.

Nick laughed, showing a charmingly crooked front tooth. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“Why is he going out partying if he knows he has community service in the morning?” you asked.

Nick chuckled as he pried the lid off the paint can. “I’m guessing you don’t get out much.”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked.

“Have you been to a party before?”

“Sure.”

“I mean one with alcohol,” he deadpanned. You blushed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you’ve been to a party, you’d understand why we go even if we have to get up early. That’s the fun of it. You get drunk. You hook up. You meet new people and you suffer the consequences because that’s what life is about.”

“Life is about more than just partying.”

“Something tells me you could use a bit of fun,” he replied.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, offended.

“Nothing,” he said, now pouring the paint into the tray and swiping his hair across his face. “Just that you seem a little uptight is all.”

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but you didn’t want to prove him right by getting upset about it, so you said nothing.

Nick sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to become a whole thing. I was just teasing.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, albeit defensively.

“Clearly.”

You sat with his comment for a moment.

“I have fun,” you said.

Nick smiled to himself. “I’m sure you have plenty of fun.”

“I do!” you protested. “Just not the kind of fun that ends up in having to do a semester of community service.”

He chuckled again, the smile not once having left his face. “And yet, here you are, with me.”

You didn’t have a response to that.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You looked up and saw Noah towering over the two of you. “I know I’m late again,” he said. “In my defense I didn’t know that being late meant serving more time.” You noticed the tiniest of lisps sneak out of his mouth on ‘defense’ and ‘serving’ and it further humanized him in a way you wished it wouldn’t.

“You didn’t think there would be consequences?” you asked. He shrugged, removing his hood. His long hair was tied in a bun at the nape of his neck and a deep purple bruise appeared on the skin next to it.

“Shit,” said Nick and gave a low whistle. “Madison?”

Noah nodded without making eye contact with his friend.

“Good for you, man.”

“I’ll remind you that we’re on church grounds. Please watch your language,” you said.

Noah and Nick shared a look that you knew was meant to mock you, but you were adamant. They could behave however they wanted on their own time, but this was your time.

“We were just talking about how Saint Mary over here could use a little fun,” said Nick as he handed Noah a paint roller.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically. “My name isn’t Mary.”

“Might as well be,” said Nick.

At that Noah snickered. “Why does he think you could use more fun?” asked Noah. The fact that this was the first time he was choosing to make conversation with you was not lost on you. And though you knew you’d get teased, it was worth it to establish some sort of rapport, or else how were you ever going to talk to him about God?

“He’s judging me because I’ve never been to a drinking party.”

“A drinking party?” asked Nick. “Did you hear that, Noah? A drinking party!” he said, clutching at his chest in mock scandalization.

You crossed your arms and sucked on your teeth for a moment. “I don’t think you’re the right judge for what kind of fun I should be having, frankly.”

Nick didn’t speak for a second, then held out his hand for you to shake. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks,” you said, shaking his hand.

“Do you attend this church?” said Noah.

“Yeah,” you said. “And it wasn’t cool to vandalize it. It’s really important to me.”

“I stand by what I did,” said Noah.

“Sorry Mary,” said Nick. “Won’t do it again.”

“Again, my name isn’t Mary. And don’t think I’m going to let you off easily. It’s because of you two that I’m roped into doing this for the next however many weeks.”

“They aren’t paying you?” asked Noah.

“No,” you replied, pointing to the wall to refocus them on the task at hand. They picked up on the hint and started working again. “My dad’s the pastor at the church that sponsors this youth center. He asked me to do it as a favor to him.”

“You’re dad’s the pastor?” said Nick, eyebrows lifting up on his forehead. His expression turned unreadable.

“Nick,” Noah said, soft but stern. They shared a look you couldn’t decipher and you sensed the tone of the conversation had shifted to one you weren’t familiar with. Noah looked serious. You couldn’t determine what expression was on Nick’s face. Something hung in the air between the two of you and you had a sneaking suspicion you weren’t going to like it.

________

“A pastor’s daughter!” Nick repeated when they got back to their shared apartment.

“Don’t even think about it,” said Noah.

“A pastor’s daughter, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Whyyyyy?” Nick whined.

“Forget it, man. I’m not doing this with you again. First of all, you have terrible taste. They always get clingy. Plus, we have to spent the next ten weeks with her. If it goes poorly for either of us, it’s going to be awkward.”

“A hundred dollars,” said Nick.

“And second of all,” said Noah, “you’d lose anyway. I already caught her staring at me.”

“Two hundred,” countered Nick.

“That chick is so prude, she wouldn’t open her legs for Jesus himself.”

Nick laughed at the imagery. “She’s kind of cute though, in a mousy, goody-two-shoes, kind of way.”

“Nick, I am begging you. Do not make this some sort of mission to bed her. There are enough prude women out there that offer whatever kind of challenge you’re looking for. Leave this one alone.”

Nick sighed. “You never want to have fun anymore.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “I just have better things to do than to compete for who can bed the pastor’s daughter. Plus, I learned my lesson from last time. Remember that groupie?”

Nick smiled. “Chelsea.”

“Yeah. Her. She wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah but dude, she came to me as a rebound and straight sucked out my soul.”

“You are so missing the point, man. I’m not interested in your games anymore.”

Nick pouted. “You’re no fun. Guess I’ll just have to make it a solo game.”

“Just wait until community service is over, please?”

“No promises.”

Noah sighed and retreated to his bedroom, throwing himself down on the bed and rolling onto his back. Truth be told, he had already thought about what you might look like under your high-necked sweater. Nick was right about you being cute. And he could definitely use a challenge.

Plus it would be the ultimate fuck-you to the church. Sleeping with the pastor’s daughter? Taking her virginity? Corrupting the innocent?

He actually had some level of sympathy for you. Clearly you were raised in a household where you had to subscribe to that shit. You probably never even questioned your devotion to this made-up religion. You’d never been to a party. You definitely had never gone past first base with anyone. You lived life with such rigidity and fear of wrongdoing that you probably never let yourself stray from that tightrope.

He knew it well. He’d been raised in a catholic household by grandparents that had instilled the same kind of fear in him. Luckily, he got out when he was still in high school, but he still remembered what that catholic guilt was like. And what happened when he broke out.

All that pent-up self-control? The sexual shame you were taught to have. He knew what that looked like when it finally burst, and you were in for a wild awakening.

Logically, he knew he should stay away. Let you live your life. He wasn’t responsible for saving you from the church. But another part of him wanted to see you freed and felt like he’d be doing you a disservice by not exposing you to the other side.

__________

“I want to go to a drinking party,” Ava whined.

“Are you serious?”

“What? It sounds like fun. We don’t have to drink. We could just go and have a good time and stay sober.”

“Am I the only one who doesn’t want to risk getting an underage?” The two of you were headed to the World History class you shared on Mondays. She’d been prying you for more information on “the bad boys” as she called them. “And you really want to come home smelling like weed and booze and whatever else happens at those parties?”

“Sex?”

“Ava!”

“I just want to know what life is like on the other side is all.”

You sighed. “We don’t need to know what it’s like on the other side. It’s probably just a bunch of idiots getting sloppy drunk and grinding on each other.”

Ava laughed. “You’re so judgey! God won’t send us to Hell for attending one party.”

“I know,” you said, though your throat tightened infinitesimally at the mention of it, because really, who could know for sure? God could be testing you.

“Just promise me, if they invite you to one, you’ll bring me along?”

You laughed. “I doubt they’ll invite me to one. They seem like they already have all the friends they want.”

“You never know!” she said.

“True.”

Part of you was also curious about what happened at these parties that made them so fun that Noah and Nick still went even when they had to get up early, but another part of you wondered if this was His way of testing your commitment to determine if you were worthy of Isaac.

If it was a test, what would you need to do to pass?

_________

“You’re on time,” you said.

“Who’d have thought?” Noah replied. It was 7:48, and you’d only just arrived at the side when you had spotted Noah walking towards you, long arms swinging casually at his side. He wore a white shirt with a gray hoodie today. You tried to get a better look at the tattoos painting his forearms, but they were so numerous it was hard to identify any specific designs without making it obvious that you were staring.

“Is Nick with you?” you asked.

“He should be here soon. He was showering when I left.”

“Okay. Well, I guess we should get back to work.” Painting had finished last week, so this week, Nick and Noah were to rake the leaves that had fallen on the ground and in the parking lot. Noah got to work immediately and without complaint.

“How was your weekend?” he asked. You were surprised he was actually speaking to you, considering how distant he’d been the past two weeks.

“It was good. Yours?”

“Good.”

The conversation fizzled out before it had a chance to go anywhere. It was awkward being alone with Noah. You were trying to stay polite, but he didn’t give you anything to go on, and you were still so angry with him for what he did to the church.

It was so much easier to like Nick. He was at least friendly with you, which made it easier to forgive him. Plus, he seemed genuinely sorry that he had upset you.

“I went home early last night, like you said.”

“What?” you asked, having not processed the information.

“I went home from Jolly’s party early last night,” Noah said.

“Who is Jolly?” you asked.

“Our friend. He plays guitar in our band.”

“You have a band?” you asked.

He nodded. “We’ve only played basement shows locally so far. Nothing major, but it’s fun.” His lisp came out again and your heart softened towards him just a touch.

“What do you play?” you asked.

“A lot of instruments, but in the band I just do vocals.”

“No way,” you said. “I sing in our worship band.”

A small smile broke out on the corner of Noah’s mouth. “I’m guessing our music is a lot different than yours,” he said.

“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “It’s like…heavier than what you’re probably used to.”

“So like, screamo or whatever it’s called?”

Noah chuckled softly. “Something like that,” he said, focusing on raking up a stubborn clump of leaves.

“So why did you leave early?” you asked.

Noah continued to focus on where his rake met the ground in front of him. “I didn’t want to keep adding time on to the end of my service,” he said.

You laughed, picking a leaf on the ground and twisting it around in your fingers by the stem. “Turning over a new leaf, are we?” you asked. You waited for him to look up and notice the pun. When he did, he stopped raking and stared blankly.

“Did you really just say that to me?”

“I stand by what I did,” you said, echoing his words from last week.

Noah stayed still and silent for a long moment, before nodding to himself, and then quickly, without warning, using his rake to kick up a large pile of leaves in your direction. “Hey!” you shouted, brushing off the leaves that had stuck to your wool sweater. Noah said nothing, turning back to raking. The half-smile never left the corner of his mouth.

Had you misjudged Noah? He had seemed so cold to you at first, but he’d already become much friendlier than he had been that first week.

“So do you think he went back to bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Noah.

You sighed and fell back into the large pile of leaves Noah had been working on. He continued raking, piling the leaves on top of you.

“You know that’s how you get ticks,” he said. You hadn’t thought of that. You jumped up, brushing all the leaves off you and scanning yourself for ticks. You took your hat off to examine it and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Do you see any on me?” you asked.

“Let me check,” he said, and paused raking. You stood with your back to him, feeling awfully short compared to his towering frame. Noah crouched down to peer at the back of your neck. He lightly brushed the remaining leaves from your shoulders, and then you felt his icy fingers on the back of your neck when he pulled your collar out to check.

“Your fingers are so cold,” you said, voice coming out breathier than you would have liked.

“Sorry,” he said softly from behind you. His voice was gentle as he focused. His fingers pushed your hair out of the way so he could see and tingles erupted over the back of your neck. “Forgot my gloves. Hold on.” You felt him pick at something that clung to your hair. When you turned around, he was inspecting a brown speck pinched between his thumb and forefinger. “I think it’s just a leaf. You’re good.” He flicked the speck away and went back to raking. You, however, couldn��t shake the memory of his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“Did you go to church?”

It felt like a loaded question, but you decided to entertain him. You needed something to focus on.

“I did. Why?”

He shrugged, continuing to watch himself work rather than look at you while he spoke. “No reason.”

“Okay then,” you said, guarded.

“Do you go every week?” he asked after a few more moments.

“I do.”

“And do you like it?” he asked.

“Why? You thinking of giving your life to God?” You meant it to be teasing, but it came out more bitter than you intended.

He smiled to himself. “Just curious as to what you get from it. Why you’re so devoted.”

“It’s not all rules and restrictions, you know,” you said, feeling yourself growing more defensive. “It can actually be kind of fun, and pretty meaningful too.”

“If you say so,” he said. “I just don’t see the fun in being told how to live.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” you said. “I like having some guidelines to live by.”

He shrugged, but didn’t say anything else and you fell into an uncomfortable silence.

“It’s not like that all the time,” you continued after a while, watching him rake leaves into a modest pile. “There’s a lot of encouragement. And it can be really rewarding to devote yourself to a greater cause.”

“Seems like a cult to me.”

“It’s not a cult.”

You’d heard the arguments from people before, especially online. Every Atheist you’ve ever talked to does this same dance. They are upset that you believe in something they don’t like and react by trying to disprove God. Each of them brings up their own version of the same argument, all thinking that they, in their brilliance, have somehow got it all figured out and can change your opinion. They never can.

“Do you follow all the rules?” he asked.

“I try to. Why?”

“Just wondering. So you believe everything that the Bible says is true?”

“It’s complicated,” you answered honestly.

“How so?”

This was the part of the conversation you didn’t like. You were well aware the Bible had a lot of contradictions, and you were willing to admit that some of the stuff in there wasn’t realistic, but most people you talked with couldn’t fathom how you still subscribed to an idea that wasn’t completely perfect.

“There’s a lot of great wisdom in the Bible. But it was written by humans, and sometimes humans don’t always do a good job of interpreting God’s will.”

“So how do you know what parts to believe and what not to believe?” he asked.

“I don’t. I just do my best and hope that God will guide me,” you said.

“I guess I can respect that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still think it’s bullshit, but I’m not here to tell you what to believe. I’m not the church.”

“Touche.”

He cracked a genuine smile, and you were caught off-guard by how pleasant it was. It was almost enough to distract you from that horrendous neck tattoo.

Just then Nick came jogging up.

“You’re—,” you began, but were cut off.

“I’m late, I know,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “My bad.”

“Well, grab a rake and get to work,” you said, gesturing to where the other rake was leaned up against the tree.

“So what don’t you agree with?” Noah asked, continuing your conversation from earlier.

“Most of Leviticus is garbage,” you said as Nick fell into line between you and Noah and began raking. “Like, that stuff about women not being able to leave their house during their period? Or not wearing blended fabrics? Ridiculous. I think they were all health codes written for the time.”

Noah nodded. “What about homosexuality?” he asked.

That was a sore spot between you and your church. “I don’t think it’s wrong,” you said. “I think if God is love, then love can never be evil. My father doesn’t exactly agree. We get into a lot of arguments about it. It’s something I feel strongly about and have to pray about a lot.”

Noah nodded. “I can accept that. But the church has still done a lot of harm to that community. They should be held accountable.”

“I agree,” you said, moving out of the way so Nick could rake by your feet. “And some churches do outreach to try to heal some of the wounds. One of our sister churches even goes to the local pride parade every year. And they do fundraising to help with AIDS screening.”

“What about your church?” he asked.

You shifted. “My church still has some learning to do.”

“And do you try to educate them?” he asked. “As a pastor’s daughter, you probably have more influence than most.”

“I try,” you said, starting to feel like you were standing trial. “But I’m just one person. I don’t have as much influence as you’d think. I have hope it’ll get better though. I see a lot of churches moving towards a more progressive stance.”

Noah nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You figured that was about as much approval as you were going to get. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I just can’t get over the whole sex thing,” said Nick.

“Nick.” Noah’s voice came out stern and full of warning.

It took you a few moments to register what he had said. When you did, you inhaled sharply through your nose. Nobody in your social circle ever talked about sex openly, aside from saying how they wouldn’t have sex before marriage. You sensed this conversation could be a dangerous one, but your curiosity was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you’re not allowed to have sex, right?” asked Nick, ignoring Noah.

“Not until marriage,” you said.

“How do you live like that? I could never!”

On the surface level, there was a part of you that was aware that most people in the secular world did not actually wait for marriage, but because you’d been mostly confined to your immediate social circle, you hadn’t actually conversed with someone who was so openly comfortable with talking about sex. You were both intrigued and so far out of your comfort zone that you struggled to keep up.

“I avoid tempting situations,” you said, noticing the hard set in Noah’s jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. His brows were furrowed and he raked slightly more vigorously.

“How do you not get into tempting situations?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. I just…don’t?”

“Do you just…not think about it? What happens when you’re talking to an attractive guy?”

“What do you mean? I just talk. I mean sure, I might get giddy or nervous, but I don’t like…I don’t know,” you trailed off. “What happens to you when you talk to an attractive woman?”

“I honestly don’t know if I should tell you, sweet child. It might be too much for your virgin ears.”

“Gross,” you said.

Nick threw his head back into a big belly laugh, ignoring the rake for the moment. “I can’t help it! I love women. They’re so beautiful and…just…sexy.” He said this while drawing a set of hourglass curves with his hands.

“Can’t you admire them without lusting?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. That’s like asking me not to breathe. What’s the point? I’m not interested in being a masochist.”

You leaned against the brick building and crossed your arms, sizing him up.

“You’re not afraid of the consequences?”

He faced you, leaning on his rake. “Consequences? Like STDs or pregnancy? I’m not an idiot. I use protection.”

“No, I mean. Like. Aren’t you afraid of going to Hell?”

“Hell?” he asked, bewildered. “You believe in that?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “Yeah,” you answered. “Don’t you?”

“No!” he said. “I didn’t realize people still believed in that.”

“What about you?” you asked Noah.

“I’m not part of this,” he said, refusing to look up from his rake.

“He knows better,” said Nick.

Noah continued working, but eventually spoke. “I believe it’s something that adults make up to scare children into behaving. Like the boogeyman.”

“It could be real,” you said.

“Doubt it,” interjected Nick. “And if it was, I think it would take a lot more than a few fucks to wind up there. That being said,” he shrugged, and went back to raking, “a life without sex seems pretty hellish to me.”

“Nick,” said Noah with even more bite. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, raising his arms up in surrender. “Just making conversation.” He grabbed his rake and went back to working on the lawn, while you finished out the rest of the shift in relative silence. A strange and curious energy hung in the air between the three of you. It wasn’t a bad energy, exactly, but it wasn’t altogether comfortable.

You reached your hand up to wipe away another leaf from the back of your neck, fingers brushing over where Noah’s had been earlier. The tingles stayed with you throughout the next several hours.

____________

“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a war going on. And it’s not a war of the physical realm. No, it’s a war for the soul of the world,” Pastor Jeremy said, in his stern but somber preacher voice.

This was a common theme for sermons. How there is a constant and ongoing battle for the soul of the world, and how Satan and his army are using every tool in their belt to corrupt the hearts of the innocent.

“It is our job,” he continued, “to make sure the devil doesn’t win.”

A message of evangelism. According to many pastors, it was each of our responsibility to save the souls of everyone else. Church goers do this through all sorts of methods. Missions trips were popular. You’d been on one to Guatemala when you were in high school. A group of students went down to build schools and teach other kids about the gospel.

But lately something had been bugging you about this kind of message. Because what if Noah and Nick were right, and Hell didn’t exist? What if it was just something adults told to children to scare them into behaving?

And furthermore, did that mean that your faith was only present because you were afraid of going to Hell? What would your relationship with God look like if you didn’t fear that fate? Would you have one at all?

These questions weighed on you heavily.

“Hey,” said Isaac, nudging you with his elbow. The sermon had ended, and you’d gotten up and started walking out along with everyone else without fully realizing what you were doing. You, Isaac, and a few other students from the campus ministry usually went out for lunch after church on Sundays.

“Hey,” you said, falling into stride with him as he walked into the foyer.

“What’s up?” he asked. “You seemed a little distracted today.”

It was odd of Isaac to comment on your demeanor. You weren’t used to him paying enough attention to you to mention anything.

“Oh. Maybe I was. I didn’t notice.”

He put his hands in his front pockets and leaned his weight on one hip. He looked good in this pose, and it was possible he knew that.

“Anything on your mind?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”

Isaac seemed to notice the difference in your mood. Normally, you’d be the one asking him all the questions in an attempt to connect.

“I know what it is,” said Ava, sidling up to the two of you, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Or should I say who.”

“Ava,” you warned.

“Who?” asked Isaac, his interest piqued.

You sighed in frustration. Ava, for as good of a friend she was, loved involving herself in drama and jumped at the chance to involve everyone else, too.

“Oh, just a couple delinquents,” she said in a teasing lilt.

You didn’t know why you even told Ava about the conversation you’d had with them. You’d like to think she wouldn’t use that information to her advantage, but she hadn’t always been the most reliable friend. Truly, she was as much a friend because of circumstance as she was a friend because you shared any solid connection.

Few people understood what it was like to grow up in a church and be sent to a Christian school. Your graduating class only saw fifteen people. You connected with Ava the most out of everyone, but that didn’t mean you trusted her very much.

And you were right to be hesitant, considering she was currently repeating your private conversation to Isaac simply to gain his attention.

“Is that so?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “And who are these delinquents?”

“You’ll have to ask her dad about that one.”

“I’m not listening to this,” you said. “I have sleep I need to catch up on. I’ll see you guys later.”

Truthfully, it was just an excuse to get away from them and clear your head. As much as you usually craved opportunities to spend time with Isaac, you were not feeling it today.

Ava was right. You were distracted because of a couple delinquents—one in particular—and you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t.

Perhaps this was Jesus telling you that you needed to spend more time with him. Perhaps maybe you’d be the one to guide him towards the light?

On the other hand, it could be temptation from the enemy. In which case, you needed to guard your heart.

The only way to know for sure was to pray about it, which you had been doing in earnest, but there was still no clear answer in front of you.

__________

“So I have a theory,” Nick said softly as he took a break from vacuuming the carpet of the worship center. Noah was across the room, headphones on and head bobbing as he dusted the backs of the chairs. He’d apparently given up on trying to tame his friend.

“And what is that?”

“Okay, so it’s maybe you magically just have an inhuman amount of self-control, and I’m not saying it’s not possible, but I’m willing to bet that it’s more likely you just haven’t been tested.”

“Nick, what are you talking about?” Noah asked from across the room.

Nick placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Our conversation last week,” he said. Noah rolled his eyes and went back to dusting, but he let his headphones dangle around his neck, freeing his ears.

“Okay, and?”

“You say it’s not hard for you to avoid tempting situations, but I imagine you probably don’t get into many with the crowd you run with. Like, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

“Why is that any of your business?” you said.

Across the room, Noah sighed and padded over to the two of you.

Nick took the tiniest side-step closer to you. “Just making conversation.”

You took a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not to play whatever game this was. On the one hand, it really wasn’t any of his business. On the other, you were interested to see where he was going with this.

“Okay, I’ll bite. I have kissed before.”

“One of the church guys?” he asked, shifting his body to face you more. Noah observed silently from beside his friend.

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “At summer camp last year.”

“Who initiated?”

“He did, but we’d been flirting all summer before then.” “And when was this? What happened? Paint me a verbal picture.” Nick was visibly interested, shifting his weight from converse-clad foot to converse-clad foot as he looked at you expectantly. You had to admit that it was kind of cute. Noah remained stoic but attentive.

“It was late August,” you said. “Like I said, he and I had been flirting all summer. It was the last night of camp, and all of the counselors were having an end-of-year party.”

“You were a counselor? Oh man, this is too good.”

“What does me being a counselor have anything to do with it?” you asked.

“Nothing. Keep going.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that you might not even want to know the reason. “So anyway, we take a walk down to the beach. The sun had already set by that point and it was a new moon, so we could barely see anything. We get down to the beach and decide to go for a nighttime swim.”

“Oh, damn,” he said.

“Language,” you said. “We are in a house of God.”

He made the sign of the cross and put his hands together in mock prayer. “Forgive me. Go on.”

You had to admit, it felt good to have someone hanging on your every word like this, even if his motives were less than ideal.

“Okay. So don’t get too excited. We were still wearing our bathing suits under our clothes from the beach game tournament we’d had with the campers earlier that day. But we get in the water, and he’s like ‘where are you?’ because we couldn’t see anything, and I reached out my hand. He took it and pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. Then he said he really enjoyed hanging out with me this summer and asked if he could kiss me.”

“He asked? Ugh,” Nick scoffed.

“What’s wrong with that? It was sweet. He respected me.”

“It was weak,” he replied. “No wonder nothing else happened.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, crossing your arms. You had appreciated that Isaac cared about getting consent before he kissed you.

“I don’t know how to explain this concept,” he said, resting his hand on his chin. “Noah? Want to take this one?”

Noah pursed his lips, debating whether or not he wanted to get involved, but ultimately relented.

“It’s like,” he said, “a guy who asks to kiss a woman is kind of a coward. When you really want to kiss someone, you just do it and risk getting shot down.”

The image of Noah, standing in the lake with you instead of Isaac, tattooed hand grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss flashed in the forefront of your brain before you could shake it away.

“I don’t know about that,” you said. “I always thought it was like, a sign that a guy respects you.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Nick. “It means he’s afraid of rejection.”

“Is that really true?” you asked, looking at Noah.

He nodded. “A guy who respects you reads your body language and understands context. He’d know whether you want to kiss him because he’d pay attention to how you’re acting. You wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.”

“Huh,” you said, processing what he had said. You’d never considered it like that before, but looking back, you had put in a lot of work dropping hints to Isaac, going as far as to make it obvious that you were into him.

“How was the kiss?” said Nick.

“It was nice.”

Nick slapped his thigh and barked out a laugh. Noah cracked his signature half-smile.

“So it sucked.”

“What? No! It was really nice.”

“Trust me,” Nick said. “If it would have been a good kiss, you wouldn’t describe it as ‘nice.’”

“I don’t know if I agree with you. I think a kiss can just be nice sometimes.”

“Yeah, if you’re an old married couple maybe. But it just goes to show that you’ve never actually been properly kissed. And that you don’t know true temptation.”

“I don’t think I like this conversation anymore,” you said. “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“I might be, just a little bit,” he said. You bristled. “And I’m sorry,” he finished. “I don’t mean to make fun of you. I just think you’re missing out on some really important life experiences. And frankly, it’s a shame that the men in your life have failed you so terribly.”

You softened a bit. “I don’t like being mocked, but I suppose you’re right. I do wish the kiss would have been a little bit more…I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“Passionate?” Noah offered. You locked eyes with him and a warmth grew in your stomach. You liked feeling like he understood you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d dreamed my whole life of my first kiss, and when it finally happened, it was exciting because it was Isaac, but—,”

Nick perked up. “Isaac?”

You hadn’t meant to say his name.

“Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Does Isaac go here?” he asked.

“Nick, please. I don’t want any drama.”

“I promise I won’t say anything. I’m just curious.”

“I’m not telling you anything else about him,” you said. “All you need to know is that he kissed me. It was okay. And then he stopped because he didn’t want to get tempted.”

Noah made a face when you said that last part, and you knew there was something behind it, but you didn’t want to ask. He might just join in and make fun of you.

“I’m done dusting,” said Noah finally. “Want me to start on the windows?”

“That would be great, actually,” you said. “Take Nick with you.”

Noah nodded and latched on to Nick’s collar, directing him over to the supply closet where the window cleaner was kept.

You sat on the steps leading up to the alter and crossed your arms over your knees, resting your chin on them.

You were disappointed in the kiss, you realized. They were right, and you hadn’t even noticed until now. After that night, you and Isaac hadn’t spoken about it again. It was as if it had never happened.

You had always surmised you were just better at self-control than your secular peers, and had clung to the identity, basing a level of self-worth on that idea, but what if that wasn’t true? What if they were right about the rest too, and you were missing out on all these important experiences? Were you just naïve?

You supposed that was a good thing. After all, chasing after those experiences could get you in a lot of trouble and lead you down a bad road. But then again, how were you supposed to resist temptation in the future if you couldn’t even recognize it? What would happen when something came along that did tempt you? How would you handle it?

Did you even want to know?

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trustmypoison · 1 month ago

Text

Ah! Love - Act One

Yoon Jeonghan isn’t told ‘no’ often - or ever, really. So, when his friends set him up to get turned down, his ego is shattered. But his friends didn’t realize they just introduced him to his new partner in crime.

You can find the Ah! Love masterlist here.

Playlist: Ah! Love by Seventeen; Can’t Get You by Jaehyun; Bonnie & Clyde by Yuqi

Word count: 13k

Parts of this story will contain explicit content that's not suitable for minors, so MDNI.

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

It’s nearly 1am when Y/N parks her car. She should have been home a while ago, but thanks to someone calling in, she was asked to work a few extra hours today. Not like it was hard, but there’s only so much to do at the reference desk at the campus library on a Friday night. The semester hasn’t even started yet, but the stupid university policy said that the library had to be staffed 24/7 except for holidays.

She was just thankful that one of her coworkers had the good sense to hide a phone charger in the bottom of a desk drawer. It had come in handy tonight when she’d finished her book. The university library had a less than impressive fiction collection to pick from.

But now, Y/N was irritated again because her designated parking spot at her apartment complex was taken. In fact, every single spot was taken. Someone must have been hosting a party to celebrate before the start of the semester. This complex was mostly occupied by students, but damn, didn’t they know how to read signs, such as RESERVED? So she was parked on the street half a block away.

Y/N yanked the key out of the ignition and had her hand on the door handle when a loud laugh made her jump back. A group of guys were walking down the sidewalk towards her and they’d clearly been drinking. Not interested in facing them (whether out of self-preservation or to spare them her mood), she sat back in her seat, biting her nail and waiting patiently (read: Not Patiently At All). They seemed to be taking their sweet time. As they walk under street lights, she thinks she might recognize one or two of them from campus over the years, but that doesn’t mean much. The university has a huge student body.

One of them stops, a muffled, “Hold on,” coming through the car window. He steps towards the front passenger side of her car. His hands go to his pants. He’s -

He’s peeing on her car.

Her jaw drops. A car passes by and in the headlights she can see who it is. She unfortunately knows him - or knows of him, anyway. It’s Yoon Jeonghan.

Her jaw is now tight, gritting teeth together painfully. Before she can think, her hand is on the center of the steering wheel, pressing sharply. The horn blasts for a split second and the only thing that makes this situation any better is the panic that flashes across his face. He jumps back, zipping himself up, waving and shouting a quick “Sorry!” Then he’s off, practically sprinting. His friends follow, but between the drinks and the laughter, they’re sluggish.

Y/N waits until they’re around the corner before she gets out of her car.

The next morning, Y/N finds Vernon at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t look up from the game on his phone when she walks in and goes straight for the coffee. “Didn’t hear you come in last night.”

Y/N grunted as she slid into a seat across from him. He pushed her a bowl and spoon, along with a box of sugary cereal. “Yeah, I didn’t get back until 1. Had to park on the street.” Vernon hums, but she’s not sure he’s really listening or cares. “By the way, do you know if the complex has a water hose or something near the parking lot?”

Now he’s listening, though he still doesn’t look up. His eyebrows are scrunched. “Water hose? I don’t know. Why? Why not go through a car wash? There’s one around the corner.”

“I don’t need a whole car wash for my piece of shit car. Just enough to wash the urine off of my tire.”

Vernon bites back a laugh. “Someone pissed on your car?” He’s obviously amused.

“Yoon Jeonghan did.”

Now his laughter resembles the squeak of a windshield wiper. This was nothing new - Vernon finding Y/N’s bad luck hilarious. Normally, she’d let it go because he had a laugh that made her laugh. She did not find it funny right now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, stuffing some cereal in her mouth to bite back any further comments.

Vernon wiped his eyes. “How do you even know it was him?”

“Because I was in the car when it happened.” Another bite of cereal for Y/N and another wheeze from Vernon. For the rest of the morning, Vernon would glance at her before falling into another fit of laughter. Y/N opted to escape by going back to bed.

Jeonghan joins his friends in the student union at lunch on Monday. Classes started this morning but he’s not stressing it so far. After all, he’s only had one class and it’s already 1pm. Tomorrow might be another story based on his class schedule, but he’ll worry about that… tomorrow.

Across from him, Mingyu is talking about the girl he hooked up with on Friday night. Jeonghan’s not really listening because he’s too busy scarfing down his third slice of pizza.

Seungcheol tells the story of his hookup on Saturday night. It becomes a competition between Seungcheol and Mingyu and they keep glancing at Jeonghan as he stuffs his face with more pizza, challenging him to jump in. He usually would, but he’s not terribly interested today.

Besides, they all know he didn’t go home after the party on Friday. He walked with them back to campus and ended up in the dorm room of one of the many girls he kept in rotation. All it took was one text and five minutes later she was signing him in at the front desk of her dorm as a guest. He signed himself out at the front desk afterwards because it was clear she wasn’t up to moving anytime soon. Between that and how satisfied she looked, he was pretty happy with the night as he walked back home. He doesn’t feel the need to brag anymore. His reputation precedes him.

When it becomes apparent that Jeonghan isn’t taking the bait, they turn on Joshua. “How’s your girlfriend?” The word ‘girlfriend’ comes out as more of a sneer when Mingyu says it. Out of the whole group, Joshua seems to be the only one that believes in the concept, or at least puts it to any genuine practice.

Joshua met her while shadowing at the hospital a few years ago when he was still trying to pick a major. His crush was massive and they all teased him relentlessly about it. But after seeing how lovesick their friend was, they actually encouraged him to ask her out. They knew Joshua wasn’t a huge fan of anything casual. He’d rarely hooked up before meeting his current girlfriend anyway. Jeonghan is happy for him, he really is, but he’s still very perplexed at the dopey smile that overtakes his friend’s face at the mere mention of her.

“She’s good. We volunteered at the animal shelter on Saturday and then went out to dinner.” He says this with such an innocent grin that some scoff or roll their eyes. Jeonghan just smiles and shakes his head. They should know by now that Joshua is just that kind of person. Even if he wasn’t, all this girl would have to do is ask because he’s totally wrapped around her finger. Again, very perplexing. Jeonghan couldn’t imagine what that was like.

Jihoon is not one of those people that scoffs at Joshua though. He shakes his head disappointedly at the others and then looks at Joshua directly. “They’re just jealous. They wouldn’t know how to even get into a relationship, much less hold one down as long as you have.”

Joshua seems totally unfazed with his stupid smile, but Seungcheol barks out a laugh. “It can’t be that hard. Mingyu and I both have had long-term things.” He pointedly ignores Jihoon's correction - a not-so-subtle mumble of ‘situationship’ disguised under a cough. Dating was a very loose term for them, never that serious and really just for a predictable amount of sex in the end. When they got their fill, it was over at the snap of a finger. “Besides, it’s Jeonghan that couldn’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan chuckles, “What makes you think that?”

The silence is deafening for only a moment before his friends start giggling. Mingyu bangs his fist on the table. Seungcheol is shaking his head in disbelief. Jihoon is sliding down in his chair and covering his face. Even Joshua is smiling like he’s trying to contain a laugh.

Which is not a good time for Chan, the poor unsuspecting freshman that they’ve taken under their wing, to slide into a seat at the table. He looks like he’s afraid to ask. When he makes eye contact with Jeonghan, he’s really afraid to ask.

Jeonghan scoffs. “I don’t know what’s so funny. I could date anytime I want. I just don’t want to,” he yells near the end to be heard over his friends.

Seungcheol’s still shaking his head, but this time it has a purpose. “No, I’m sorry, man. I haven’t seen you so much as go on a single date since high school. Everybody knows your pattern. You sweet talk some poor girl at a party to get her home and then as soon as it’s over, you say ‘This was nice, but I’m not interested in anything more’.”

The words sting because it’s accurate, right down to the phrasing Jeonghan usually uses. Seungcheol must have heard some of these awkward morning-after conversations before at their apartment. Jeonghan is used to Seungcheol cheering him on in his pursuits. It felt like a skill then, one that he was very good at. A little locker room talk is normal, right? It’s another thing entirely for his best friend of nearly 15 years to turn it all around and say he can’t do the opposite. That his skills are a hindrance to it. That he’s just not capable of it.

Joshua must have sensed his friend’s discomfort because he tries to smooth it over. “Han, all he’s trying to say is that you’ve never even expressed interest in pursuing someone seriously and you shoot down anyone that approaches you for more than sex. When you do want to date, there might be a bit of a learning curve. That’s all.”

Jeonghan doesn’t know how to respond because he’s totally floored by the whole situation. Since when did not wanting anything serious become a problem? Jeonghan likes having fun. He likes having something new often. When did they stop understanding that?

The minutes tick by slowly, especially when his friends are still talking about it long after Chan has finished his lunch. They’ve emptied their trays and left the student union and they’re still talking about it. They’re half-way across campus and they’re still talking about it. Details about how shameless he’s been, how brutal he’s been about his rejections, how he’s won so many bets and completed so many dares over the last few years. His record is starting to sound like a bad thing when they were high-fiving him about it a week ago.

Mingyu turns around, walking backwards so he can face Jeonghan with a taunting smile. “I can’t believe you think you can do it.”

“I can,” Jeonghan says, now completely bitter because it doesn’t come off as confidently as he would have liked. It’s not like him to accept that he can’t do something. He likes pushing limits. He likes to toe the line. Mingyu’s face right now makes him want to jump clean across the line just to prove him wrong. The words spill out. “I can prove it.”

This gets all of his friends attention. Seungcheol’s smirk is so fucking irritating when he says, “And how are you going to do that?”

Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. He’s burned a lot of bridges as he’s formed this reputation. There are a lot of women that hate him - have yelled at him, slapped him, bad mouthed him, or just plain sobbed in front of him. Besides the last one, that was usually pretty amusing. There are also a lot of men that hate him too, likely because he’s ghosted their friend or sister. That’s a little less amusing when he has to dodge a fight. He’s not a coward when it comes to a fight, but he feels like there’s nothing to defend because he’s done nothing wrong. He’s never promised anyone a date and it’s not his fault when someone assumes that he will. But now he’s very determined to prove that he can do anything he wants with anyone at anytime because they’ll happily let him. That includes dating. “Pick anyone. I’ll make it happen.”

His friends raise their eyebrows as they look at him. They’ve now stopped in the quad and stepped off the path into the grass. Jeonghan grows impatient with their stares. He waves his hand around the quad. “Pick.”

Mingyu and Seungcheol are the only ones that start looking around with any sort of seriousness. They must find something that makes them happy because they look at each other and smirk. When they turn to Jeonghan, their expressions make his stomach turn, but he’s determined not to show it.

Mingyu points across the quad to a figure. Their target is a girl he’s seen in some of his English classes before but her name escapes him. All he knows is that she’s is a major bookworm, usually having stacks of books on her desk that aren’t even for a class. The only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s heard others laugh and whisper about it - which he found ironic because they were all English majors. You shouldn't pick that major if you hate to read. A errant frisbee flies within five feet of her and she doesn’t flinch. He’s never talked to her.

“Let’s start by getting her to agree to go out with you first.” Mingyu’s clearly enjoying this and Jeonghan’s fists clench in his pockets to resist hitting him.

“And what do I get out of this?” It won’t be a girlfriend, at least not in anyway that matters. He does want something besides his pride back though.

“$100 if you can get her to agree to go on a date with you. Another $100 if you can get her to agree to be your girlfriend. Another $100 if you can make that last three months.” Seungcheol states the terms, looking rather smug about it. He expects Jeonghan to back down. The whole concept of dating is absolutely not his style and $300 doesn’t seem worth the trouble. Seungcheol’s probably giving a lowball offer on purpose. But Jeonghan is desperate to retain some pride and composure.

Jeonghan’s feet are moving before he even realizes it. He slaps Seungcheol on the shoulder for good measure as he passes.

Y/N is quite literally a page away from finishing her chapter when a shadow casts over her. She glances up and suppresses a groan. “Can I sit here?” She slides over to the edge of the bench and tries to refocus on her book and remain unaffected. However, her mind has alarm bells are going off.

Why the fuck is Yoon Jeonghan sitting next to her?

She prayed he didn’t recognize her from Friday night. She did not want to have that conversation - or any really - with him. But she could not think of a single other reason why he would be here right now.

“You look familiar. Have we had classes together before?”

She glances up, if only for a brief moment to make her answer convincing. “Maybe.” She knows she’s had classes with him. He doesn’t need the ego boost by knowing she’s paid any attention to him though. He gets enough of that from everyone else.

He sticks out his hand. “I’m Jeonghan. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself in any of those classes before.”

Y/N stares for a second, internally cursing the manners that are ingrained in her. She’s going to have to shake his hand, if only to remain polite for now. She mutters her name, reaching out to his hand. His hand dwarves hers, long fingers wrapping around her hand, but his touch is soft and warm. It surprises her only momentarily before she’s remembering all the reasons why she wants to avoid him. She’s relieved to have her book clutched in both hands again to ground her. She will not be falling for his charms today, or ever.

“I’ll get straight to the point, since I interrupted you. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He says gently, but there’s the usual amount of arrogance in his expression. Like he knows what she’s going to say. Y/N bets he usually gets the answer he wants. Y/N presses her lips together, feeling uncomfortable for so many reasons.

“Oh. That’s nice of you, but no thank you.”

Jeonghan blinks a few times, then his eyebrows furrow. “Uh. What?”

Y/N closes her book and stares at him. Why now? They’ve shared classes for three years now. Their schedules have aligned an irritating number of times and he’s never so much as glanced her way. Not that she would have ever fallen for this, even as a naive freshman three years ago. “I said, no thank you. I’m not interested.”

“Not interested?” He says this slowly, like the words don't make sense to him. Maybe they don’t. Word on campus is that he doesn’t hear them often. Or perhaps ever from the expression on his face. But there’s a first for everything, right? This must be one for him. “Can I ask why?”

There’s a loud cackle across the quad and it gets both of their attentions. It’s the guys that were with Jeonghan on Friday night. They seem to be enjoying whatever show Jeonghan is putting on for them.

Ah, okay. That tracks. Y/N scoffs, standing to put her book in her bag. “Do I need a reason? Besides, I’m sure there are many others that will fall for the dare or bet that they’ve put you up to.”

Jeonghan kind of looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a few times. He’s glancing fast between her and his friends. “What? That’s not…”

“Sure seems that way,” she cuts off, trying to keep her voice even, but it’s challenging. “And you’d have to make me a pretty damn good offer to agree. You should tell them to be more subtle if you really want to use this tactic on some poor unsuspecting victim.” Y/N isn’t sure why she isn’t walking away right now.

Jeonghan is standing now, but he looks totally out of his element, none of his normal confidence and arrogance present. It actually makes her want to smirk, but even she feels a little bad about how loudly his friends are laughing across the quad. Second-hand embarrassment is a very real thing and she was starting to experience it. “Have I done something to you?” It sounds a little defensive.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “It says something if you have to ask that, Jeonghan. But no, you have not. I’m really just not interested. I have to get to class. Have a good day.”

She passes by the group of guys and doesn’t make eye contact. Kim Mingyu is there and this really does seem just like the kind of thing he’d be involved in. She almost feels sorry for Jeonghan again, but then she remembers the arrogant smirk he usually wears and the way he was confused by the word ‘no’. Almost sorry, but not quite. He could stand to be taken down a peg every now and then and Y/N was happy to be the one to do it today.

Jeonghan didn’t wait around to find out just how funny his friends found whatever the fuck just happened. Getting turned down was something he wasn’t used to and his friends’ laughter across the quad just rubbed salt in the wound. He’d also pointedly ignored the group chat for the rest of the day. Even Joshua was being iced out. When Joshua sent Jeonghan a message apologizing outside of the group chat, Jeonghan just gave it a thumbs up and nothing else.

However, by the afternoon he realized he needed to save some face. Y/N may have said no, but many others would say yes. And despite his shock, he had heard what she said back in the quad. His friends would be a detriment to whatever plan he tried because they couldn’t hide their amusement. He sent a single text when he got home and a girl arrived at the apartment he and Seungcheol shared a little after 8pm. When he let her in, he passed by all of his friends in the living room, drinking beer and playing video games. Perfect. Uninvolved in the plan, but present for the show.

He’d picked this girl because she’s loud in bed and seemingly not embarrassed about it. After sex though, he realized that she’s just loud all the time. He decides he can’t ask her to go on a date, much less hang out with her for three months as her boyfriend. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about as he pulled on some clothes, but he interrupted her to tell her he had an 8am class the next day and he’d see her out. She took the hint and began getting dressed. There was no 8am, but he wanted whatever this was to end promptly. He also wouldn’t be reaching out to her again.

He was still icing his friends out but Jeonghan was satisfied with the expressions on their faces as he went back to his room after seeing the chatterbox out. They could make comments about his dating habits, or lack thereof, but they couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was doing in every other way. They’d had to listen to the evidence of it.

That eased his mind until the next day. At lunch, they made it clear they hadn’t forgotten about his rejection the day before. He was thankful that all except for Joshua had a class soon after so his suffering wasn’t prolonged like yesterday. As soon as the others were far enough away, Joshua frowned at Jeonghan. “I’m sorry. I told them to let it go, but you know how they are.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Jeonghan mumbled, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as they start walking.

“For what it's worth, they set you up anyway.”

Now, that got Jeonghan’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“She’s friends with Mingyu’s roommate, Wonwoo. They knew she’d shut you down.”

Oh. Now it was making sense. He remembers how smug Seungcheol and Mingyu had looked when they’d spotted Y/N. Jeonghan had met Wonwoo many times over the years. Mingyu and Wonwoo shared a lot of classes and seemed to get along as roommates, but Wonwoo was never very interested in joining them when they went out. They’d stopped extending the invitation after a while. Mingyu said his roommate would rather be home reading or playing video games anyway.

“Are they close? Y/N and Wonwoo?” Jeonghan wasn’t totally sure why he was asking. Maybe he wanted to know who she would say yes to, if not him. He’d like to think he checks a lot of boxes for women, but… she must be a unique case. Maybe if he knew who she would date, it would make him feel better.

“Seem to be. Mingyu said they’ve known each other for a long time, since they were little I think. Y/N’s apartment is apparently where Wonwoo goes when Mingyu brings guests over.” Guests, meaning girls - Joshua was just too polite to say it. Jeonghan had a similar system with Seungcheol when he wasn’t trying to prove a point. Basic roommate etiquette and all that.

“Don’t sweat it too much, okay? It’s a single rejection. I don’t condone the bets or dares, you know that, but I know I can’t stop you guys there. There are plenty of other girls on campus if you’re really serious about this. Just be careful.” With that, Joshua turned towards his class and walked away. Jeonghan was almost late because of how distracted he was.

He had to let go of this if only for his sanity. Joshua was right - it was a single rejection. The only one in his entire high school and college careers. It was a blip on the radar. A small infraction on an otherwise perfect record. It wasn’t like he’d have to see her anyway. He’d only had a few classes with her and even if he did have to see her he’d just avoid her until he wasn’t feeling so wounded by the whole thing. No big deal. He can breathe easier with that realization.

Whatever high Jeonghan had been riding since Tuesday comes crashing down at approximately 4:30pm on Thursday afternoon. He was almost late to his Tales of Villainy literature class. Though he was on a pre-law track, he was technically an English major and had to fulfill a certain number of literature credit hours to graduate in the spring. Of all the options offered this semester, this one seemed like the most tolerable.

Oh, right. Except that the first person he lays eyes on when he walks into the classroom is none other than Y/N. And the only seat left open is the one directly behind her. He bites back a curse and almost leaves. He’s considering just dropping the class and figuring it out later, but the instructor is already looking at him from the podium, waiting to start. Jeonghan silently sits down in the seat behind her. He knows he can’t drop because he’s on a tight schedule to graduate. If Y/N noticed him, she doesn’t show it.

He does his best to focus on what the instructor is saying. What tests and essays there will be. What works they’ll be reading and when. What kind of participation he wants to see in class. Jeonghan prays that all of this is in the syllabus he blankly glances at occasionally because he’s taking very little of it in right now.

The truth is he feels like a fucking teenager, because he can’t stop glancing at the girl in front of him. He’s noticing things that he’d normally not notice or give much thought to when it comes to girls. Usually, he’s looking at their bodies and how much skin he can see, or how they’re looking at him. Specific features have never mattered much or held his attention because it all feels the same in the end.

So it’s totally unfair that he’s transfixed by her. The way her hair falls in her face when she leans down to write something with a stupid purple glitter pen. Or the doodling she’s doing in the margins, which mostly consists of a bunch of little suns and moons. Or the smell of her perfume which is some kind of blend of lavender and vanilla. He’s not even admiring her body as much as he normally would, but that’s really nice too. He noticed that earlier in the week when he’d approached her.

He wants her in a way that he hasn’t wanted anyone before but his ego is still in recovery and he can’t risk asking her again. Why wasn’t she into him? Was he losing his touch? It occurs to him that maybe he’s bordering on obsession like this only because she turned him down. Because she seems unattainable. That’s something he’s never really experienced before, but Jeonghan’s been known to like a challenge. It feels kind of like a fatal flaw right now.

He has to get here earlier next week to secure a seat away from her, not only to save his grade but to save his sanity and ego. Fuck the rule that you sit in the seat you picked on the first day for the entire semester. He’d fight someone for it to avoid this kind of spiral weekly. He needed to put a lot of distance between Y/N and himself ASAP.

After three agonizing hours, when the instructor lets them go, Jeonghan is the first one out of his seat, not even bothering to stop to stuff the syllabus that’s wrinkled in his grasp into his backpack. He thinks about bailing on his plans with his friends to call someone over because he needs some sort of validation right now that he hasn’t lost his touch, but thinks better of it. He’s afraid his friends will see right though the facade. They don’t need to know his ego his hurt this badly that he’s driven to hook up with so many people in a week to get over one rejection.

He’d get his validation tomorrow night. Maybe more than once with the way his system was on overdrive. At least then he wouldn’t have to seek it out. They’d come to him.

Y/N thinks that if she has to hear this song again she’s going to scream. She’s in her ensuite bathroom with the door closed and she can hear CL’s Hello Bitches start for the 23rd time. Yes, she’s been counting. She loves CL, but this is becoming excessive.

She can also hear who is in tune and who is most certainly not. She’s just about to get her eyeliner right this time when there’s a screech in the other room. Not the type of sound you expect to hear when you know there are six grown men in there.

Swinging the door open, she’s met with the sight of Seungkwan pinning Junhui down by his neck. Soonyoung is scolding them (which is ironic because he’s usually at the center of these things) but the other three are totally unfazed. Vernon and Minghao are scrolling on their phones and Wonwoo looks like he’s napping (or trying to anyway). “Guys, are there any other songs on this ‘playlist’ of yours?”

Seungkwan pulls away from Junhui, whose glad for the opportunity to escape. Seungkwan turns his wrath to Y/N. “What do you have against this one?”

“It’s one song, Kwan. It shouldn’t count as a playlist,” Y/N deadpanned.

Seungkwan glares. “Yeah, well, your eyeliner sucks.”

“Thanks to Junhui’s screeching,” Y/N sasses, while Junhui scoffs, putting a hand to his chest in offense. They all ignore him and his dramatics.

Minghao’s off the bed in moments though, taking the eyeliner pen from Y/N and pushing her back into the bathroom. “Let me fix it so we can leave. I can’t stand them or this song anymore and I need a drink.” Minghao’s subsequent glare silences the laugh that’s bubbling up Y/N’s throat. Like the artist he is, Minghao’s efficient with lots of mediums, including eyeliner apparently, and they’re dragging her out of the apartment in less than five minutes.

This is not their normal Friday night. They usually end up at one of the restaurants down the street until it closes and then they move to Vernon and Y/N’s apartment to crash. Sometimes there’s alcohol, but there’s always more food (despite having their fill at the restaurant), and almost always some form of games.

So it was to everyone’s surprise when Wonwoo announced that his roommate, Mingyu, had insisted they come to a party tonight. Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Junhui were in immediately. The rest took some convincing and Wonwoo was certainly not going to do it. He left that to his friends that couldn’t wait to get drunk on someone else’s alcohol.

The walk was short and the house was already packed when they arrived. They squeezed through the crowd to the kitchen to get drinks and then went their separate ways. It was likely that they’d all end up back at her apartment anyway, so Y/N wasn’t worried. She runs into Minseo in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation. They were roommates in the dorms until Y/N moved into her own apartment with Vernon and Minseo moved into the sorority house. They were unlikely friends back then and even remained friendly when they ran into each other on campus now.

Minseo was talking about being a big for her sorority this year, something she’d been looking forward to. However, Minseo was cut off by an “Oh shit!” Something splashed onto Y/N’s shoes. She hadn’t looked down but Minseo had. Y/N did not like how her former roommate’s face was twisted in disgust right now. Y/N glanced down.

Yep, that’s puke.

“I am so sorry!” Y/N was convinced that any and all gods hated her, because she recognized that voice. She looked up to find Yoon Jeonghan in front of her with wide, panicked eyes. He was clutching another guy by his sides, seemingly holding him up. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know how to handle his alcohol quite yet.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N forced out, trying not to look down at her converse again. She’d most certainly gag if she did.

The freshman wavered on his feet but this time he made it to the trash can behind Minseo. Jeonghan was no longer clutching the freshman, but now ringing his hands, so uncharacteristic from his usually overwhelming confidence. “Let me wash your shoes for you. My friend lives here, he won’t mind.”

“No, no. That’s not necessary.” With a grimace, Y/N dropped her drink into the trash can when the freshman came up for air. She tried not to look at Jeonghan and instead looked at Minseo. “I’m going to head home.”

“At least let me walk you home. It’s late,” Jeonghan cut in, face pinched with anxiety.

Y/N waved her hand as she stepped back. “No, that’s not necessary either. It’s not far.” The freshman had his head in the trashcan again. “I think he needs you more right now, anyway.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and quickly exited the house. As she walked, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to the group chat that she was leaving. They all had her location so they’d know when she made it home if they were worried.

The August air was stagnant and humid, making the smell on her shoes so much worse. She grimaced again. This was why she didn’t go to these types of things. Minseo and a few of the guys regularly tried to get her out of the house, but this was just not her vibe. Tonight was just more evidence of that. She had terrible luck with these things.

A rhythmic sound was getting louder behind her. For a moment, she prayed that Yoon Jeonghan hadn’t followed her to walk her home like he’d been insisting. She was beyond relieved when she heard a more welcomed voice. “Hey, what happened?” Wonwoo asked as he slowed next to her. He must have caught a whiff of what had happened because he did a quick scan of her before landing on her shoes and muttering, “Ew. Dude, that’s gross.”

“I know,” she scoffed. “Go back to the party. Mingyu wanted you there.”

Wonwoo began walking with her, ignoring her command. He shrugged, “I showed up and spoke to him. That’s more than he usually gets. What happened to you though? You didn’t answer.”

“Some freshman that couldn’t handle his alcohol apparently. That’s the shortest visit we’ve ever made to a party and that’s saying something.” Wonwoo laughed at Y/N’s words and thankfully it diffused some of her tension.

“Yeah, a whopping twenty minutes.”

Wonwoo was the brave one when it came time to deal with Y/N’s shoes upon arriving to the apartment. She slid them off along with her socks at the door and Wonwoo carefully picked them up by the least gross parts. Never mind that he sprinted for the washing machine with a scream. He said it was so he wouldn’t breath in and smell it. Y/N thought that was pretty valid.

When the others arrived at the apartment a few hours later, they found Y/N and Wonwoo on opposite sides of the couch, one reading and one playing video games. They joined in seamlessly, grabbing snacks from the kitchen to sober up. She appreciated that they didn’t ask why she left early. The last thing she wanted to talk about was anything in reference to Yoon Jeonghan.

It’s been nearly a week and Jeonghan is still not talking to Chan. He pretends like he doesn’t hear him when he talks. He’s getting really good at it.

At first it confused Chan, particularly when there was no one else in the room with them in Jihoon’s trashed kitchen on Saturday morning. It goes on so long that a hung over Chan starts to wonder if he’s invisible. Can that happen? He’s never drank this much before. He’s starting to worry about weird genetic mutations or that maybe he’s a ghost now. However, Seungcheol greets him when he enters the kitchen. So that settles it. Not invisible. Jeonghan’s just mad.

It takes the entirety of Saturday and Sunday, and the first half of Monday before Joshua finally steps in to counsel them and try to solve the issue at hand. All of them have a soft spot for Chan and don’t like seeing him so dejected. It turns out Chan remembers very little of the party so he doesn’t even know what to apologize for, though he keeps offering blanket apologies. So, Jeonghan tells the story in excruciating detail. Mingyu is downright elated by it. Seungcheol and Jihoon try to bite back their laughs and turn away. Chan is completely mortified and says he’s swearing off drinking for good. Joshua can’t fix this, he’s decided, but he feels a lot of sympathy for Chan. After all, they were all once freshman and did some stupid things. So he tries to fix it anyway. He fails.

Then food magically starts appearing in front of Jeonghan randomly. First it’s a burger and fries that Chan treats him to on Monday night when they all go out. Then it’s coffee and a muffin on Tuesday morning. When they go out for beers on Wednesday, Chan buys everything Jeonghan drinks, but Chan doesn’t partake even though this college bar is known to overlook a little underaged drinking now and then. Thursday, Jeonghan finally puts a stop to it because Chan must be spending a small fortune for a college student on this apology. He accepts the coffee Chan hands him and says, “Okay, enough.”

Chan’s eyes are hopeful and Jeonghan hates how much he loves the kid. He really does seem to feel bad. “I’m forgiven?”

Jeonghan nods. “Yes. Please pace yourself next time though.”

“Of course,” Chan nods eagerly. “I do not want to feel like that again. Have you talked to her since?”

The question catches Jeonghan off guard. He’s relieved it’s just him and Chan today. He really wants his friends to forget about her entirely because every time she comes up it’s kind of like they’re twisting the knife. “Uh, no. I’m trying not to see or talk to her, which might become a bit of a challenge at 4:30 today. I have a class with her.”

“Oh,” Chan deflates. “Maybe I should apologize? I know you said you did, but… maybe it wasn’t well-received.”

“Yeah, because she had puke on her shoes,” Jeonghan half scoffs, half laughs.

“Sure…” Chan looks like he wants to say something more and Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “That has something to do with it, I’m sure… But… Okay, I’m not telling you this to bother you about it. I know you’d wish we’d drop it. But the others are really enjoying how much she seems to not like you. Something about karma.” Chan gives a shrug because he isn’t sure what else to do.

“Karma about what?” Jeonghan bit, anger rising. If feels like all of this has been so far out of his control that it’s not fair. What has he done to deserve this?

Chan wouldn’t make eye contact with Jeonghan. “You know I’m new, so I don’t know specifics. But something about how you deserve to be shut down every now and then. That your body count borders on too much.”

Jeonghan can’t help but scoff. “Literally all of them except for Joshua have a high body count. They’re not totally innocent either. Besides, the whole concept of body count is stupid.”

“Yeah, it’s been pointed out,” Chan said cryptically. “Anyway, I’ll apologize if you think it will help. Just let me know.”

Jeonghan debates on whether to stick to his plan of avoidance throughout the rest of the day. When he arrives to his lit class, he makes the impulsive decision to sit behind Y/N again. He cares more than he’d like to admit that she seems to hate him. It’s one thing if he deserves it - if he’s done something to her, then he thinks he could accept this and move on like he has many times with many other girls. But he hasn’t really done anything to her besides ask her out and it’s starting to eat him alive, especially when he thinks about how she said no before she realized he’d been dared to do it. And the party on Friday was just a comedy of errors. Maybe there was a little irony in the fact that, out of all the people at that party, it was her shoes that Chan threw up on.

She’s reading when he slides into the seat behind her. When she’s finished a chapter, he taps her on the shoulder. She closes the book around her fingers, turning in her seat. Her expression, like it was in their last two interactions, doesn't give much away except that she’d already like the conversation to be over already. It pains Jeonghan to see because it’s not the reception that he usually gets.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday.”

Y/N blinks. He hates how big and pretty her eyes are, even when she’s definitely not happy to see him. “You said that already. I told you it’s fine.” Her voice is totally flat and he really wishes he could read her mind. Maybe then he could find a way to fix this. They don’t have to be friends by any means, but something other than her total disinterest would be nice.

“I know, I just -“ He doesn’t know where to go with this. He swallows roughly. He’s expecting her to turn away, but she doesn’t, placing the book in her lap now. There’s something patient in her expression that confuses him, but he’ll take advantage of it. “It’s occurred to me that I haven’t left the best impression, not just once, but twice now.”

She laughs, but there’s something humorless about it and it makes his lips turn down a little more. “More than twice, but I’d have to agree with that.”

He’s not sure what he’s done before this semester, doesn’t remember a single interaction with her before all this. “I’d like us to forget it if we can. Start over, if you will.” He’s not sure why he’s saying this or why it’s so important to him. He’s never cared much about his interactions with women outside of before, during, and after sex. It’s clear that none of that is going to happen here.

She seems to be thinking and it feels like she can see right through him. He squirms in his seat, not used to feeling so exposed. Usually, he’s the one reading people, not the other way around. And he can’t read her - not when he asked her out, not at the party, and not now. Finally, she smiles but there’s kind of an evil look in her eyes. “I’ll think about it. I’m still mad that you pissed on my car.”

Jeonghan’s jaw drops, breath catching in his throat, but he can’t get a word in because the instructor has swept into the room and Y/N is already turning around in her seat. He drops his head in his hands and suppresses a groan. This class is the longest three hours of his life.

It’s nearly dark when class ends. Jeonghan stuffs his things in his bag quickly, but his movements are hurried and messy and Y/N is already walking out of the classroom. He calls her name as he exits the building. He kind of expects her to ignore him, but she stops, halfway turning to glance at him. She kind of looks smug and he doesn’t know how to take it. He halts next to her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was your car.”

Y/N looks away and starts walking again and Jeonghan is trailing behind her now. “Do you have a habit of doing that when you go out drinking?”

The question is conversational, casual even. Jeonghan feels awkward and kind of wishes she’d just yell at him. “Uh, no. It’s not a habit of mine.” He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not when she looks mildly amused.

“You seem nervous.” Another casual statement.

Jeonghan stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans and he watches in real-time as she clocks the defensive pose. Yeah, she’s definitely amused. He’s noticed she’s incredibly perceptive. He feels like an open book to her. “I’m not used to making this much of a fool out of myself. I’m usually much smoother than this.” He admits it because she probably knows it already anyway.

“Oh, I know. Your reputation is well-known around here. Quite the heartbreaker.” She says it so evenly that it somehow hurts worse than the anger that he gets from other women. It’s like it’s a fact. Jeonghan guesses it is and it makes him deflate.

“Is… that why you said no?” The question leaves a very bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he fucking cares. It’s just one girl, why is she worming her way into his brain like this, making him feel so insecure?

There’s curiosity in her eyes when she glances up at him. “Perhaps. It didn’t help that you’d obviously been put up to it.”

Jeonghan huffs. “Yeah, that probably looked bad, didn’t it?” He’d been so stressed about getting his lick back lately that he’d kind of forgotten how fast she’d put all the puzzle pieces together.

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, but this time it wasn’t so humorless. He’s so surprised that she’s not mad because she has every right to be. He doesn’t know what to say. “This is my stop,” she said, pointing to the library behind her. “Look, I don’t know what all that was about, and I don’t really want to know. But consider that maybe your friends are just dicks if they’re putting you up to something like that. Even you might deserve better friends, Yoon Jeonghan.”

She wishes him goodnight with a wave and his frown is so deep that even Seungcheol notices when he arrives home. Jeonghan brushes it off, almost feeling bad when Seungcheol presses again later that night, asking if everything is okay. Jeonghan remembers what Joshua and Chan said about the whole thing being a set up and how much they were enjoying it. Hell, it had even occurred to him that her presence at the party was a set up too, now that he knew Mingyu’s roommate was one of her friends. It would be so easy to invite Wonwoo and tell him to bring his friends as a courtesy.

No, he wouldn’t be talking to any of them about Y/N anytime soon. The sooner they all forget about this whole thing, the better.

The weeks start to fly by as the semester gets underway officially. Jeonghan is taking more than a full load of classes because he plans to do an internship next semester that will take up most of his time. This is something that he begrudgingly planned for last semester, but is really thankful for now. There’s a predictable pattern to his life. Class, homework, hang out with friends, go to parties on Friday and Saturday night and maybe take someone home. He’s not even doing that last part as often as he once did. He keeps thinking about his friends’ words at the beginning of the semester and when he does hook up with someone he’s left feeling less than satisfied. He's never realized how empty the whole thing is, but now that he does he can’t unsee it.

The only other deviation from this plan is the occasional conversation with Y/N in their shared lit class.

No, he hasn’t moved seats. No, he doesn’t plan to anytime soon. No, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

That’s what he tells Joshua after his friend spots Jeonghan and Y/N leaving their class together. They've taken to idly chatting as he walks with her to the library on his way to his own destination. He’s thankful it was Joshua that saw it and that his friend was willing to let it go. Joshua also must have kept it to himself because none of his other friends said anything. They’d seemingly forgotten about Y/N.

Which was perfect because he doesn’t want to talk about how many times he’s been embarrassing himself in front of her.

In September, his printer crapped out and the ancient professor that he was writing a paper for insisted on paper copies, even though the school offered a perfectly good online submission option. So Jeonghan found himself at the library late on Thursday night. Yes, he knew Y/N was working because he’d walked her there earlier that night. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He especially didn’t want to talk about how he broke the printer and had to approach Y/N to admit it. If he hadn’t have needed that paper printed for first thing in the morning, he would have ran for it and come back another time. Y/N assured him that this particular printer was always on the fritz and offered to print it for him at the reference desk, but there was something sly in her expression when she handed him a stack of warm papers neatly stapled together. It’s like she knew he was taking a hit to his pride by having to ask her of all people, despite the positive interactions that they had sometimes.

In mid-October, he found out she actually lived in the same apartment building as him. He found that out because he had been dared to wear his halloween costume (Spiderman to be exact) to check the mail. No good reason, just because. He usually had no shame, so what’s the worst that could happen? He found out the worst is seeing Y/N coming down the hallway. He ducked into the elevator as soon as it opened and repeatedly pressed the Close Door button, hoping to avoid the whole thing. However, Y/N not only saw him, but how aggressively he was pressing the button as she slid into the elevator. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and she was biting back a smirk. “Don’t…” he muttered, his eyes closed tight. She stayed silent throughout the whole interaction, letting him retain what little pride he had left. He’s not even sure why he’s so embarrassed because he’s done way more ridiculous things in far more public settings just for a laugh. Jeonghan returned to his apartment with none of his usual bravado when he completed a dare.

In early November, Jeonghan decided he wanted to make ramen at 3am. Writing a paper had worked up an appetite. He’d made ramen a thousand times in his college career. What he hadn’t done before is set off the fire alarm in the apartment complex. As he stood in the parking lot watching the fire department sweep the building, he heard Y/N grumbling to her roommate how annoying this was because she had an 8am class. If he’d had his keys, he would have gone to hide in his car. Or maybe leave.

Yeah, maybe just leave. Seungcheol could handle the rent, right?

And then there were the times that Y/N of all people had caught him in compromising positions with girls. The first was when an acquaintance of Seungcheol’s that lives in the same building hosted a party. He’s making out with a girl in the hallway. He’s not sure why he didn’t just take her up to his own apartment down the hall, but the thought hadn’t occur to him immediately. He’d just pushed her out of the apartment and against the wall in the hallway and she let him. He’s almost got his hand under this girl’s shirt when he hears something alarmingly similar to Y/N’s voice from the other end of the hallway. It snaps him out of whatever lust-filled haze he was in and she and her friends pass by them in the hallway. He knows she’s seen him and what he was doing - the eye roll gives it away. The girl asks him to take her somewhere more private and he does, but he’s a little distracted for the rest of the night.

The second time is at the library of all places. He’s been paired with a girl from one of his classes to work on an assignment and they’ve agreed to work in the library. He’d normally suggest working somewhere more private, but he’s not terribly attracted to his project partner. She’s fine, he’s just not that interested. However, the project is painfully dull and when she suggests that they sneak off for a few minutes he agrees automatically. He lets her suck him off in one of the dark corners of the stacks. Despite not being very attracted to her, she’s decent and he enjoys it enough to come. He also doesn’t mind the thrill of a little exhibitionism from time to time. His blood runs cold when they’re walking back to their table and Y/N is in the next aisle over, reshelving some books off a rolling cart. He has no idea how much she’s seen or heard. She doesn’t look at him, but she’s shaking her head. He decides he can’t stick around and makes an excuse that he’s forgotten something and he needs to leave.

The most recent run-in is at another party, this time at a sorority house. He’s snuck off to the bathroom with one of the sorority girls and he’s got her sitting on the sink. Her hand is in his pants and his fingers are in her panties buried deep inside her when there’s a knock on the door and it opens. None other than Y/N is standing there. He pulls away from the girl quickly, but the girl’s hand is still very much in his pants and he knows Y/N has seen all of it anyway. He starts to apologize so they can let her have the bathroom, but Y/N is already waving him off with another eye roll and closing the door behind her. He makes an excuse to the girl and doesn’t end up taking anyone home that night.

And after all that, luck was especially not on his side when their lit instructor announced that they’d be pairing up with someone for their final presentation. This was both a blessing and a curse. Someone to share the responsibility for the bulk of your grade, but also… someone to let you down on the bulk of your grade. Jeonghan also couldn’t decide if it was a blessing and a curse that the instructor paired him up with Y/N. She didn’t object and he’s too mortified by 90% of the interactions he's ever had with her, so he kept his mouth shut and accepted her invitation to meet, pick a book, and lay out a plan. She was a good student so he could at least bank on a good grade. He’d have to get a grip if he was going to survive this project though.

Yet another thing that he did not want to talk about with his friends.

It’s Wednesday afternoon in early November when Jeonghan slides into the seat across from Y/N. They’ve agreed to meet in a coffee shop just off campus. When Y/N recommended it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and asked for the time.

“Sorry, I got caught up after class. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Jeonghan asked. His face was pinched with the usual concern - usual only because she kept seeing it when he looked at her over the course of this semester. It was very different from the arrogant grin he usually wore, and somewhere deep down (deep, deep, deep down), she was wondering if she’d been too harsh on him or misjudged him. He seemed to wear a mask sometimes and she could see right through it because she liked to wear one too.

Either that, or he was the greatest actor in the world. Maybe this new face of concern was a facade to get her to let her guard down so he could still win whatever bet his friends had issued. But it didn’t seem like it. He hadn’t broached any topic that indicated he had an ulterior motive since the first day of class. Anyway, even if it was all an act, she kind of liked watching him squirm.

“Not long. What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it,” Y/N said, prepared to stand up.

Jeonghan immediately objected. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it in a minute.”

“No, really,” Y/N chuckled. “I know the barista. Just tell me what you want.”

He reluctantly gave his order and she smiled as she left the table, satisfied that he’d folded so quickly.

Minghao was standing behind the register with an eyebrow raised when she approached the counter. He leaned over the register to whisper to her. “Yoon Jeonghan? What’s that about?”

“We’re paired for a project. Can I add another drink to my tab?” Y/N gave her sweetest smile. Minghao’s lips pursed like he was unimpressed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Your tab is becoming alarmingly long, you know that right? The boss doesn’t even want us to offer tabs to friends.” Nevertheless, he took the drink order and began making it. While he was at it, they were discussing plans for the upcoming weekend. Junhui was performing in a play on Saturday and all of his friends had agreed to show up in support - not that he could keep them away. They hadn’t seen much of Junhui in the past few weeks as he’d been rehearsing nonstop, but everyone was really proud of him. They were planning to cheer and clap so loudly it embarrassed him, give him flowers, and treat him to dinner and drinks afterwards.

When Y/N put the drink in front of Jeonghan, he looked like he was ready to go with his laptop and a printout of the approved books for the project. She was pleasantly surprised by this since he never seemed to take classes too seriously. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to get out a pen or paper or even open his laptop to take notes. She just hoped he’d open the damn book that they picked out because she had never seen him read a single page with her own eyes.

Still, she was pleasantly surprised again at how involved he was with their selection process. They agreed on The Monk, mostly because they both liked the challenge. Not many people were picking something from the 1700s if they could help it and their selection would show some initiative to their instructor. He’d even agreed to a reading schedule and regular meetings. She tried to remind herself that every time she got caught up in how cute he was when he focused, or how intently he seemed to be listening, that this was the man that pissed on her car in the beginning of the semester. And asked her out on a bet or dare. And whose friend puked on her shoes. And… you get the idea.

Somehow she didn’t feel all that angry about a lot of it anymore. Weird.

That’s why when he began chatting idly about other things outside of the project, she didn’t shut him down. She told him about her plans for Junhui’s play this weekend and he told her he’d been applying to internships for next semester without much luck. She surprised herself by volunteering to review his applications and resume. He looked really cute when he was surprised by the offer and she bit her tongue to keep from further trapping herself. Being friendly with Yoon Jeonghan was something she was still conflicted about.

“Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly when conversation lapsed. Y/N shrugged. “You said you know the barista?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, his name is Minghao. We’ve been friends since freshman year.”

Jeonghan hummed and something smug filled his expression. “Mhm. So how long have you liked him then?”

Y/N choked on air. “What? What are you talking about?”

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. “I saw you bat your pretty eyes and smile for a free drink - thank you by the way. That’s so unlike you. I mean, all I get are blank stares most of the time and I’d like to think I’m quite charming.”

“It’s not like that,” Y/N insists, but it was weak at best. Her face feels hot.

“There’s nothing wrong if it is like that,” Jeonghan assured. It appeared to be genuine, encouraging even.

“It’s…” Y/N trailed off, avoiding eye contact as she tried to find the words. Whatever explanation she was trying to conjure up fizzled out when the door to the cafe opened. “Oh god.” She dropped her head into her hands.

Jeonghan swung to look in the same direction. “Whose that?” He glanced back at her. He’d always thought he might enjoy seeing Y/N in a way that wasn’t so composed after all the times he’d made a fool of himself in front of her. And he did enjoy teasing her about her little crush on the barista. He’d never thought he’d see her blush and it was pretty cute. However, this was different because she looked down right mortified. Not cute. He’s feeling protective all of the sudden for no good reason. “Uh, he’s walking over.” He watches the mask snap back into place so fast that he gets whiplash. She had just looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but now her face is totally impassive.

“Y/N!” The guy is now standing in front of their table, a bright smile on his face.

The smile Y/N returns is friendly enough but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Seokmin, how are you? I’m surprised to see you here.” Jeonghan thinks that she really meant something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ instead. Seokmin clearly did not know that.

“Oh, you know I couldn’t miss Junhui’s first leading role. I had some time off and decided to come and visit.” Seokmin is still smiling brightly and Jeonghan knows now that he’s not a fan. He’s seen Y/N looked totally unimpressed, primarily at Jeonghan, but this is different. There’s a flash of anxiety on her face that unsettles him. This guy’s done something wrong and he hopes she’ll stick up for herself. He wants a front row seat to it and he doesn’t even know what Seokmin’s done.

Y/N’s smile is tight. “That’s great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you made the trip.”

Maybe Seokmin is finally picking up on the tension because the thousand-watt smile dims a bit. She hadn’t said she was happy to see him, just that Junhui would be. Seokmin turns to Jeonghan, sticking out his hand. “Lee Seokmin.”

Jeonghan turns on the charm, giving his best smile and gripping Seokmin’s hand tight as they shake. “Yoon Jeonghan.” He isn’t sure what Seokmin is thinking when he glances back and forth between Y/N and Jeonghan, but Jeonghan kind of hopes that in some twisted way he thinks they’re together. He’s trying to put out the vibes of a possessive boyfriend, mostly so Seokmin will stop looking at Y/N because it’s clearly making her uncomfortable. She’s shrunk in her seat and crossed her arms, making herself look small.

Seokmin’s about to say something when Minghao comes out of the back and yells his name. Seokmin’s easily distracted and as soon as he’s away from the table, it takes half a second of eye contact before Jeonghan and Y/N are packing up their stuff, making a show of looking at the time and saying they’re late for something.

Once they’re out of the coffee shop and around the corner, Jeonghan pulls her to a halt by the elbow because she’s practically sprinting. “What exactly was that about?”

He doesn’t ask if she’s okay because her distress is crystal clear. Now that she’s out of the cafe, she looks like she might cry. “It’s kind of a long story.” There’s a choked quality to her voice that tugs at his heart strings. He can’t explain that. He’s seen plenty of women cry, usually because of him, and it’s never really bothered him before.

“I have time,” Jeonghan shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but he’s floored that she’s not shutting him down and walking away right now. Y/N’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she finally pouts. He doesn’t even think she’s aware she’s doing it but he still suppresses the urge to squish her face because of how cute she looks. He doesn’t think that she’d like for anyone to do that, much less him. “How about this? It’s nearly dinner time. Let’s go get something besides coffee and you can tell me about it.” She looks hesitant, probably remembering the first day of classes, so he tacks on, “No ulterior motives, I promise. You just look like you need to talk to someone about it. I’ll even pay.”

He lets her order her chicken tenders, fries, and milkshake before he starts asking questions, mostly because he’s surprised she’s still sitting across from him and the promise of food on the way might make her stay. The whole walk to the diner near their apartment complex, he had half expected for her to make a run for it.

“I’m not sure where to start.” There’s a helpless tone to how she admits this and Jeonghan hates it. She’s usually so sure of herself and he already hates Lee Seokmin for the effect he seems to have on her.

“Let’s start with Seokmin.” The waitress delivers their milkshakes and Jeonghan patiently waits while Y/N jabs the straw into her cup and starts twisting and crumbling the straw wrapper.

“We dated. For a long time actually, since high school. We even picked this school so we could go together because it had both of the programs we were interested in. He’s a theatre major, you know? Well, was. Was a theatre major. Last year, out of the blue he announced that he’d landed a role and he’d be moving right away for it. I hadn’t even known he was auditioning for anything that wasn’t local. He broke up with me because he thought he wouldn’t have time for me and left three days later. Back at the cafe is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since.”

Y/N looks so dejected as she grabs Jeonghan’s straw wrapper because hers is totally mangled now. He kind of wishes he’d hit Lee Seokmin rather than shake his hand. “How long were you together?”

“6 years, almost 7.” The pout is back and Jeonghan’s beginning to heat with anger. What a waste that time was for her.

“I’m… sorry. That’s so shitty. I can’t imagine it.”

“Kind of hoped he wouldn’t come back. That maybe he’d be so successful abroad that he’d never need to. Is that wrong of me?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “Wrong of you to wish him success even though he broke your heart to achieve it? Maybe. Something isn’t right about that.” He’s aware immediately of how hypocritical what he just said is. Earlier this semester he asked her out on a bet, fully intending to date her for three months and then dump her to cash in on the $300 he was promised. He squashed the thought because now wasn’t the time. He needs to get that pout off her lips right now. He kind of hates that the only way he can think of to do it is to bring up Minghao. She was so much lighter when she ordered Jeonghan’s drink from him. “How does Minghao fit into all this?”

The pout lifts a bit. “Minghao was one of the first friends I made in my freshman year here. I took an art class for one of my general education requirements and he was in it. I’m not an artist. But he was kind about it even though he’s a much better artist than me and even helped me fix a lot of my work so I could pass. Last year, when Seokmin left, Minghao was still kind, even though Seokmin was his friend too. He didn’t look at me with pity like a lot of the others did.” Abruptly, she throws down the second mangled straw wrapper, crossing her arms across her chest. “That probably sounds stupid, doesn't it?”

“No!” Y/N’s eyes flare at Jeonghan’s rather passionate answer and Jeonghan tries to backpedal. “I mean… I know I don’t set a great example when it comes to this stuff. God only knows my friends won’t let me live it down. But I can sympathize. You put your heart and soul into someone for nearly 7 years and then he up and leaves at the first sign of a greater opportunity without so much as asking what you want? That would hurt anyone. It’s also totally reasonable to have a soft spot for someone that helped you when you needed it after all that.”

He’s avoided looking at her during his whole speech, but when he does he knows what he’s looking at because he’s already seen it a couple times tonight. She’s biting her lip and her eyes look unusually wet. He’s about to apologize when she says, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I do?” Jeonghan asked, confused.

Whatever emotion she was showing clears and she nods firmly. “Yes. Every time I think I have you figured out, it seems I’m wrong. You’re pretty thoughtful when you want to be.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s not like this with most people, not by a long shot. The waitress brings their food and he’s thankful for the distraction. He’s nearly done with his burger when Y/N speaks again.

“What were they going to pay you if I said yes?”

Jeonghan is sure he knows exactly what she’s talking about but he prays he’s misunderstanding. He tries to play dumb. “Huh?”

“You said your friends never let you live down your reputation. I saw them that day that you asked me out. What was the prize if I said yes?”

He stalls out of for a long moment and Y/N waits patiently. “You won’t be mad?”

“No. It was obvious there was an ulterior motive the moment you approached me. We’ve had classes together for years and you never even glanced at me.”

He thinks that wasn’t totally true but he doesn't correct her because he doesn’t think it would change anything. She appears to be honest about not being mad so he clears his throat. “One of my friends, Joshua, is in a relationship and very happy. I don’t know how it ended up here, but they all agreed I was basically incapable of dating like that, or at all really. They wouldn’t let it go and it bothered me. I felt like I had something to prove to them.”

“How much?” This time she was pressing. His throat burned because it occurred to him why Joshua didn’t condone the betting and dares in the first place. Telling her she was worth $300 and some bragging rights to him made him feel ashamed now, especially with how she’d just opened up to him. But he answered her anyway. To her credit, she barely blinks. “And you picked me?”

“They did.” Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing acid. He wonders if she thinks he finds her unattractive or that he never would have picked her if it had been up to him. That bothers him for reasons unknown.

“So they set you up then.” Jeonghan must have looked surprised because Y/N continues. “Mingyu knows I don’t like his habits. It runs Wonwoo out of his apartment constantly and hurts a lot of feelings. Because of your reputation, and your association with Mingyu, they had to know what I would say.”

Jeonghan’s positively dejected now. He slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looks out of the window to avoid her eyes because she’s doing that thing again where she looks right through him and he feels too raw now.

“It really does bother you, doesn't it? You don’t think you could do it if it was with the right person?”

“Maybe not,” Jeonghan mumbles bitterly. “I haven’t even gone a date since I was a sophomore in high school and my fucking mom drove me to it.” His laugh is so hollow as he wipes his hands down his face in frustration. He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this. He expects to see pity in her face but her expression is not completely impassive or unkind. “Sounds kind of pathetic, really, especially admitting it to someone like you, whose been in a very long relationship. I know how to hook up but I know next to nothing about dating.”

He can’t look at her and he kind of expects her to leave. Kind of wishes she would so he could go crawl in a hole in peace. “Jeonghan.” He looks up reluctantly and is terribly confused when she’s smirking and her eyes look a little chaotic. “Ask me again.”

Jeonghan’s brain shuts off like someone’s pulled the power cord to it. All thoughts flicker out. “What?” It comes out more like a hiss.

But she’s still blinking her pretty eyes at him and now she’s nodding encouragingly. “We can prove them wrong, easy. Ask me again.”

He shakes his head, hoping it’ll help him make sense of this. “You want to help me win a bet by pretending to date me.”

She shrugs. “Sure. I have a little experience, so I can help make it convincing.”

He knows she’s trying to make a joke about Seokmin, but he feels like he might pass out. “Why would you do that? What do you get out of it? And what about Minghao? Seokmin? What about my horrible reputation?”

“I care very little about your reputation actually,” she says firmly. “We’d have to establish some ground rules anyway if you want some image rehabilitation out of this. Seokmin is a non-issue because I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and I’m positive that things with Minghao won’t be going anywhere. Besides, I kind of hate Mingyu. I’d like to make him eat his words.”

After a beat, Jeonghan barks a short laugh in disbelief. “You’re insane.” It’s not an insult because he’s beginning to smile.

Y/N sticks her hand out to him across the table, a satisfied smirk across her face. He likes the mischief in her eyes. It’s actually a huge turn on. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Now he’s wearing a huge grin. His hand encapsulates hers and they shake. “I’m Jeonghan. Nice to meet you. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan imagines #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #smut

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worldly-fluster · 2 days ago

Text

Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace imagine #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 2 years ago

Text

5 times the Bronco was a third wheel - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

Summary: 3.6k words. Rooster & his partner's love in snapshots throughout the course of their relationship. or, five times the Bronco was a third wheel <3

Warnings: sososo much fluff. some cursing, suggestive material, overuse of italics, & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi y'all! life has been v busy but i'm excited to share another fic with u guys! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

master list

After multiple failed & disappointing first dates, y/n was prepared to write off dating and romance altogether. She could be happy and fulfilled with some pets, good friends, and a good vibrator.

Then Bradley Bradshaw came along.

y/n was convinced chivalry was dead. So when the aviator offered to pick her up for their first date, she was skeptical. She did an internet deep dive and all she found were high praise for his flying ability and Navy accolades. Bradley only had one social media account and he followed less than 50 pages–most of which were plane and vintage car accounts. He almost exclusively posted photos of his travels during deployments.

So, she accepted his offer. She told him her address and pushed the Dateline and Criminal Minds theme songs to the back of her mind.

Bradley showed up on time and he actually walked up to her door. There was no dry “I’m here” text or the muffled honking of a car horn.

Not only did he ring y/n’s doorbell and meet her at her front door, but he also brought her flowers. Bradley brought her flowers!

His mama raised him right.

Bradley sucked in a breath when y/n opened the door. She was beautiful, and he told her so. The words left his lips before his brain caught up. It sounded cliché, but he was pretty sure he fell in love at the sound of y/n’s kind giggle and the way she bashfully scrunched up her nose.

As the aviator led y/n toward his car, she admired the sight of the vintage Bronco. A shiny wax coat accentuated the bright blue paint. It seemed as though there wasn’t a speck of dirt on the car. Somehow, the decades-old vehicle looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

Bradley smirked when he turned back and found y/n shamelessly staring in awe at the Bronco. Keeping up with the old car’s maintenance was a labor of love; it made his heart flutter to see someone appreciate it the way he did.

y/n snapped out of her trance when she saw Bradley patiently waiting by the opened passenger door. Swoon.

With a blushed smile she approached the door, standing intoxicatingly close to the aviator. Even in her heels, he was still a full head taller than her. Being mindful of said heels, Bradley held out his hand for y/n to hold while she slid up into the slightly lifted car.

She buckled her seat belt as he shut the door and jogged around the front of the hood.

She smiled inwardly. This could be good.

After six months of dating, y/n had officially earned the title ‘passenger princess’. y/n and Bradley spent a good majority of their time in either of their homes, but when they went out together Bradley drove.

If they went out to a bar, Bradley always made sure to limit himself to one beer or sober up before they left. y/n was especially fond of fruity little drinks with a high enough alcohol content to knock a grown man out cold, so she wasn’t exactly a good candidate to drive either of them home after a night out. The buzz tended to make her more touchy-feely, which Bradley didn’t mind at all.

If they went to the beach, they’d typically take y/n’s car. Bradley shuddered at the thought of sand in the Bronco and sunscreen on the seats. Yet, he still drove when they took her car. y/n would’ve protested if it were anyone else attempting to drive her car but with Bradley it was different. Everything was different.

She’d never felt the kind of love and safety she did with Bradley. And it was easy! Their relationship was playful and fun and happy. Which was part of why y/n found teasing him to be particularly amusing.

The couple was driving along the beach with no specific destination in mind. A soft breeze flowed through the open windows and a playlist y/n made for Bradley played over the stereo. y/n alternated between watching the pink and orange hues adorning the sky–nothing quite compared to west coast sunsets–and admiring the handsome man seated to her left.

Rooster’s eyes flickered away from the road for a moment to look at this girlfriend. He caught her already ogling him and broke out in a toothy grin, ghosting his fingers along the inside of her thigh where his hand already rested on her leg.

The mostly-innocent devil on y/n’s shoulder told her it was time to bug her boyfriend. She carefully toed her sandals off before kicking her feet up on the dash. A smirk graced her face as she trained her eyes on Bradley, awaiting his reaction. His eyes flashed toward her feet with alarm and his shoulders sagged in relief when he realized the dirty soles of her shoes weren’t marking up the dash. Bradley rolled his eyes and grumbled before he effortlessly pulled both of her legs off the dash and into his lap with one hand. y/n threw her head back and laughed. The corner of Bradley’s lip twitched upward at his favorite sound.

At the next red light, Rooster pressed a kiss to y/n’s ankle before continuing to massage her calves.

y/n groaned in the lobby of the auto shop. The mechanic gave her a timeline of roughly two weeks for her car to be fixed. Her insurance wouldn’t cover a rental either, so she’d have to get rides from her coworkers. She was sure Bradley would gladly drive half an hour each way to drop her off and pick her up from work, but she didn’t want to burden him with that.

Rooster came with her because she suspected the mechanics wouldn’t take her seriously by herself. Men. She sulked while stomping out into the parking lot. She knew better than to touch the passenger door handle herself, so she waited for Bradley.

y/n huffed as she stared out the window. Bradley knew it was better to let y/n ride out her frustration, so he silently rubbed his thumb over y/n’s knuckles, brushing against her engagement ring. After her second huff, Bradley ventured into the lion’s den.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Rooster asked with a kiss to the back of her hand. She ran her free hand through her hair and pinched her brows together. Maybe she was overthinking and stressing out too much, but the feelings felt very real nonetheless.

“I guess I’ll just ask one of my coworkers for a ride to work for the next couple of weeks. I don’t think she lives too far from us…” y/n trailed off. It was Bradley’s turn to pull a confused face. Why would she do that when they had another perfectly fine car? When Bradley proposed to y/n he promised her his heart for the rest of their lives and that what was his was hers–though both of those things had been determined long before he bought y/n’s dream ring.

“Baby, you can just take the Bronco. I’ll drive us to the base in the morning and then you can take the car from there. Or I can have Mav pick me up on his way to the base and you can get more of your beauty rest,” Rooster finished with a cheeky grin. Though y/n had her personal favorite origin story for her fiancé’s call sign, the actual reason rang true. Rooster was up before dawn nearly every day, regardless of whether he’d set an alarm or not. y/n, on the other hand, rather appreciated sleeping in and ignoring the morning daylight for as long as possible.

Bradley once tried to wake y/n up before 6 a.m. to join him on a morning run. In her sleepy haze, she threatened to break up with him. She was joking mostly but the edge in her tone had Bradley leaving her to rest without any further argument.

“...are you sure Brad? You would let me drive the Bronco?” y/n asked hesitantly. The only other person she knew of that had driven the vintage car was Bradley’s late father, Goose. To Bradley, sharing the car was a no-brainer. Would he let anyone else have their hands on his precious wheel? Hell no. But y/n? He’d give her the moon if she asked for it.

“What’s mine is yours, honey. I don’t trust anyone more than you,” Bradley smiled as he spoke. The words flowed off his tongue so easily. y/n did her best not to tear up at the sentiment, but it was a fruitless effort. It was her turn to kiss his hand this time, muttering a soft I love you against his tanned skin.

Which is how y/n found herself parking the Bronco in the car lot closest to the dagger squad’s hanger. The aviators had just finished their afternoon workouts. It was the safest means to gradually decrease the natural adrenaline rush from flying, but also had added benefits, if you asked y/n–the bonus being her fiancé’s physique. She took a brief break from ogling her boyfriend to be mindful of the distance between her feet and the ground as she hopped out of the car.

Hangman looked up from the weights he’d been lifting and clocked the new addition to the parking lot. The bright blue vehicle was hard to miss among the red, white, and dark blue trucks filling the lot.

“Rooster, that looks like your car,” Jake observed. Thank you, Sherlock.

“That is my car,” Bradley replied after glancing toward the parking lot. Hangman was a lot of things, cunning even, but the blonde man’s density didn’t surprise Rooster. A small smile graced his face when he saw y/n’s feet land on the asphalt, the rest of her body concealed from view. Phoenix typically ignored Hangman’s antics. It was a waste of time and energy, and ensured she wouldn’t lose brain cells simply by exposure to the cocky aviator. However, this discussion piqued her interest.

“Then who the hell is driving? Has anyone other than you touched that wheel in the past 15 years?” Natasha blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and stood back with her hands on her hips. Eventually, she too noticed the approaching footsteps nearly hidden by the car and she smirked. Of course it was y/n.

“Not until today,” Bradley smiled. y/n turned the corner, coming into view, and Hangman tutted in understanding. Rooster paused his workout to take in his fiancée. She wore a breezy sundress that complimented her complexion and the wind blew gently at her, letting her hair flow back to reveal her sun-kissed cheeks. She was a sight for sore eyes.

“Well I’ll be damned, Bradshaw. You must really love her,” Jake clapped Rooster on the back, earning an eye roll.

“We’re engaged, Bagman. I obviously love her,” Bradley replied, his eyes still trained on y/n. Fanboy piped up. He quite enjoyed the verbal tennis match.

“Yeah, but that’s like next-level love,” Mickey argued. The rest of the squad nodded in agreement. Rooster shook his head with a smile and abandoned his weights, lightly jogging to meet y/n halfway. Bradley wrapped his arms around y/n, pulling her into a tight hug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of jet fuel and sweat, but she wasn’t bothered; she was used to it by now. y/n dangled the key ring from her finger in front of Bradley’s face with a teasing smile. He grinned and slipped the keys into his back pocket with a peck to y/n’s lips.

The wedding ceremony and reception were breathtakingly beautiful. Bradley and y/n decided to have a private ceremony with just their closest friends and family and a larger reception party. They danced the night away quite literally. The newlyweds probably stayed on the dance floor for almost two hours, only taking breaks to take some private wedding photos and for Rooster to play the piano. The wedding venue was the couple’s favorite of the ones they had toured, the on-site piano was an added bonus

When the night came to an end and it was time for the send-off, Bradley and y/n couldn’t wipe the wide grins off their faces even if they tried. Whooping and hollering from their loved ones sounded out as party-poppers and sparklers surrounded the pathway toward the awaiting Bronco.

y/n was the first to notice the tin cans on strings affixed to the back of the car. With a loud laugh, she turned back to the crowd to find the culprits. Her eyes zeroed in on Bob and her sibling with a chuckle. The aviator wore a blush and avoided eye contact with y/n though he was acutely aware her eyes were trained on him and the string he was shoving into his pocket. Her sibling, who was standing right alongside Bob, attempted to discreetly kick a spare tin can on the ground behind them out of view. Rooster gave the two of them an appreciative wink.

Bradley picked y/n up bridal style, earning a surprised yelp from his wife, before he gently sat her down in the Bronco’s passenger seat, careful not to snag her wedding gown on anything. He pressed a searing kiss to her lips and jogged around to the driver’s side.

As they pulled away the distinctive clanking of the tin cans bouncing on the pavement earned louder cheers from the wedding guests. Despite his strong urge to get both of them home and into bed as quickly as possible, Bradley was careful not to drive too fast so that the cans wouldn’t fly up and chip the Bronco’s paint.

In the driveway of the couple’s shared home, Bradley opened his wife’s door and helped her step down from the vehicle. Once she was on solid ground y/n pulled him down by his collar and pressed yet another kiss to his lips. Their kiss count for the day was nearing triple digits. y/n shuffled toward the back of the Bronco to admire Bob’s handiwork again, pulling her husband along with her. Bradley wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed wet kisses to her neck. y/n suppressed her quiet moans and tried to stay focused on the task at hand, but it was a near-futile effort.

“Honey, do you think we should-hmm, oh-take these off before we go to the airport? We have to leave-hmmph-early tomorrow morning,” y/n finished breathlessly. Rooster’s ministrations were distracting and relentless. He groaned against her neck and nipped at one of the sensitive areas he knew by heart.

“Baby, if I don’t get you inside right now we’ll both be charged with indecent exposure,” he spoke directly against her goose-bump-covered skin and ground his hips against her back to emphasize his point. y/n tossed her head back against Bradley’s chest with a grin and a devious glint in her eyes.

“Take me to bed, you big stud,” she whispered. Bradley heard her loud and clear. He tossed y/n over his shoulder and practically sprinted toward the door. Though most of the blood in his body had rushed elsewhere, he still was mindful enough to carry his wife across their home’s threshold bridal style.

Bradley Brashaw is a smart man. Incredibly smart. He knew his plane inside and out, could take it apart and build it back up again from each individual part. The same was true for his Bronco and y/n’s car, for that matter. There weren’t many mechanical problems he couldn’t solve with his toolkit and some WD-40.

So what was stumping him?

An infant car seat.

He understood clearly how it should be installed. He’d read the manual three times over to make sure he didn’t miss any details. He wanted, no, needed to make sure his baby would be absolutely safe. Bradley wanted the car seat to be able to safely withstand a moon launch. The problem was that the manual directions weren’t working. He groaned and rested his forehead against the cool leather backseat. It was almost, but not quite cold enough to distract him from the sweltering California summer heat.

Against her husband’s protest, y/n followed him out to the front yard and observed as he installed their soon-to-be-Earthside baby’s car seat. The relentless San Diego heat was getting to y/n too. At eight months pregnant, she was already uncomfortable. With the added humidity? She was bordering on miserable. The couple didn’t really think through the timing of the pregnancy and the fact that y/n would be in her third trimester during the hottest time of the year. Actually, they hadn’t really thought through getting pregnant much at all. It wasn’t that y/n and Bradley weren’t trying to get pregnant. They just… got carried away one too many times.

Nonetheless, they were excited to be parents.

Bradley didn’t have to say anything for y/n to know he was getting frustrated. She could read her husband like a book. She slowly walked over to him, being cautious of her bump and lightly rubbed Rooster’s tan sweat-covered back. The aviator sighed and relaxed into his wife’s touch for a moment before he swung around to face her.

“Go sit down!” Bradley pleaded exasperatedly. As much as the aviator acted like a tough guy around his coworkers, y/n knew he was a teddy bear at heart. A teddy bear that worried incessantly. His eyes were wide as he took in his wife’s form. A large hand subconsciously gravitated toward her growing bump. y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into her husband’s comforting touch nonetheless.

“I’m pregnant, Brad. Not incapacitated.” she said pointedly. Bradley groaned inwardly. The exchange was all too familiar and he rarely won. y/n rested an arm on the door frame and looked around the back seat at Bradley’s progress (or lack thereof). She thumbed through the installation manual herself and Bradley looked as well, his chin resting on her shoulder. He reached his arms around her front to gently support the weight of her bump and y/n swore the instant relief she felt was akin to very few worldly pleasures.

y/n didn’t find anything in the manual Bradley hadn’t already. She didn’t expect to, but it was worth a try. She leisurely grabbed the nearest seat belt buckle and examined it.

“Maybe the buckles are just too outdated? Not compatible with the car seat or something like that?” y/n offered with a shrug. Bradley sucked in a sharp breath behind her.

“Don’t… don’t shit on the car, baby,” he spoke softly, a pained strain in his voice. y/n rolled her eyes and turned around to swat Rooster’s pec with the instruction manual. She obviously had no intention of taking a dig at the Bronco; the car had more history than either of them. To get his mind off of the failed car seat installation, y/n coaxed Bradley inside for a lemonade break. The cold beverage had been her pregnancy craving all summer, so they always had an excessive amount on hand. With a resigned sigh, Bradley followed y/n inside their house looking like a kid who’d dropped his ice cream directly on the pavement.

Though y/n invited Bradley inside so that he could take a break, he insisted on having his wife sit down while he poured lemonade into two glasses. y/n’s attention was split in two directions. The car seat adapters she was browsing through on her phone were interesting enough, but her husband’s sculpted figure was much more captivating. Bradley rounded the kitchen island and settled in next to his wife on the bar stools, peering at her phone as he passed her a cold glass of lemonade. y/n leaned over to peck her husband’s cheek in thanks when she noticed where his eyes were trained. From the way y/n straightened her back and grinned, Bradley should’ve known she was up to no good. But, in his defense, he was feeling too defeated to notice.

“You know, you could always just trade the Bronco in for a minivan,” y/n suggested with an innocent facade. She casually toyed with a loose strand of her hair and watched the fifty-some emotions morphing over Bradley’s face. y/n had a much better poker face than her husband, but she couldn’t help but crack and burst out into laughter when Bradley delivered a final deadpan look. He tugged her stool to face him directly so that he could look her in the eyes. Sure, y/n might’ve been joking, but he was so serious in that moment.

“Honey, I will drive that car until the damn wheels fall off,” Bradley declared without a single shred of doubt. y/n failed to hide her giggles behind the glass of lemonade and soon enough Rooster broke into a grin too. When she finally got a chance to catch her breath, y/n intertwined her fingers with Bradley’s.

“As long as I get to ride shotgun,” she half-whispered with a twinkle in her eye. Bradley took y/n’s glass out of her hands before softly gripping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss. When they pulled away they gladly welcomed air back into their lungs. Bradley rested his forehead against y/n’s and traced his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Always, baby.”

a/n: i snuck another top gun ‘86 reference in here…👀 i absolutely love love reading ur comments & reblogs so please don't be shy <3

have a good day luvs!

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

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