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maple-the-awesome · 6 months ago

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Another Link Crushes On You || Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Hyrule, Time, Sky x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys happens to fall pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. 'was beginning to think you might be dead in a ditch somewhere," You scoff, making your presence known as you lean against the door frame coolly while eyeing your long lost roommate and, more importantly, the company he’s brought home, "Hylia's sake, one of you is enough as it is. Now nine?"

Legend breathes your name in a sigh, not so much as glancing away from the chest he currently digs through, "I can always count on you for a warm welcome."

Despite the sarcasm and rolled eyes, you don't seem to actually hold any true disdain towards one another. Quite the opposite, an observant bystander would notice how the Vet's shoulders relax upon hearing your voice, and how there’s a slight curve to your lips following his snark reply. You’re someone who brings him comfort; someone the Chain can trust.

Pushing yourself from the doorframe, you give them a friendly smile and wave, “I take it you must be the other heroes Link’s told me about in his letters - Less I’m to believe he found yet another ragtag group of misfits to drag around with him…It’s nice to finally meet other people who can bear to put up with his nonsense. I’m his roommate, by the way. Sorry I wasn’t around last time you stopped by.”

"Oh, so he has two roommates then -?”

“- His actual roommate," You correct with an annoyed huff. Of course, it's only half hearted, "Ravio doesn't count since he doesn't pay rent."

"He should. He's around enough," Legend's voice is echoed by the chest.

There’s more conversation to be had as the two of you bicker, although much of it becomes muted ambience for Hyrule who takes to wandering the room in awe of his predecessor’s impressive collection. Boomerangs and gauntlets, hammers and feathers, even an entire little chest overflowing with enchanted clothing…Sure, it’s probably not practical to most, but an adventurer can dream, can’t he? Amongst all of this stuff, Hyrule can’t decide what seems more interesting. The magic rods? A library of maps? How about the unique magical instruments lining the walls?

“...You're the one who practically showed up on my doorstep just begging for a place to stay."

"Really? Because I remember finding and nursing you back to health out of the kindness of my heart after you got your ass kicked by a moblin.”

"I had everything under control -”

- Just then, while half distracted by the argument behind him, Hyrule accidentally bumps into a shelf which causes its contents to shake violently. His shoulders tense in preparation for the awful sound of shattering no doubt followed by Legend’s scolding, but before one of the potions can hit the floor, a hand skillfully dives to catch it.

“Careful there. You could really get hurt with some of the stuff in here,” You smirk, setting the potion back onto the shelf before turning around with your hands placed upon your hips, “I keep telling Bunny this place could be more spacious if he’d just sort through some of this junk, but he’s too emotionally attached to it all to ever take my advice.”

“It’s good to be prepared, I guess,” Hyrule stammers, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment - At least, that must be why he feels so nervous all of a sudden. What other reason would there be?

“There’s already been a few times when the Vet’s items have saved our tails.”

You hum, cocking your head to the side as you look the brunette over. In all likelihood, it’s probably only a split second that your eyes glance his way, yet it’s enough to make him feel see-through. Are you judging him? Do you see how knotted his hair is or how desperately his face needs to be washed?

Golly, you’re attractive yourself - which should be a perfectly normal thing to think because yes, conventionally speaking, you could be found very attractive and for good reason. How did Legend and you meet again? Did he say it was strictly platonic or are you already spoken for? Is that even something Hyrule should be thinking right now? Why would he be thinking such a thing when all you’ve done is look straight into his soul - …And you’re gone.

Regardless of whether you noticed Hyrule’s internal panic, you end up straying from his side to start sorting through a nearby chest yourself. If he hadn’t been stunned stupid, he would’ve heard the words you speak to the group while tossing aside items, “Here’s an idea: maybe some of you guys can take a few items off Link’s hands - Split them up amongst the group to get it out of our hair -”

“- Absolutely not!” Legend’s voice comes from somewhere over the heaps of junk, not that it does anything to stop you.

Finally finding whatever it was that you were looking for, you stand up and make your way back over to Hyrule. Before he can react beyond a jolt, you take his hand and place something in it before putting your own on top. Your touch is soft in contrast to his own rough skin. Oh, and that wink you give him - It’s enough to make his face explode in red. It could be deadly for his heart to race any faster!

“...Don’t let him catch you with it,” You whisper, and that smirk you give makes him certain you know what you’re doing.

“I - um - Oh, sure…I -”

You chuckle at the flustered boy, regrettably removing your hands from his before once again leaving his side. He thinks you say something about refreshments, maybe lunch, but honestly, he’s as good as gone to this world. It takes a bit of shaking from Four and shouting from Wind to properly snap him out of it, at least enough so to finally look down at his hand.

There’s a small blue telescope in his grasp, and it’s with that that he finally decides: you are probably, by far, the most interesting thing to be found here in Legend’s collection.

This is nice - peaceful, even, which tends to be a rare gift these days. Granted, the sun is a little too bright, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if someone walks away from this island with a nasty sunburn (most likely Twilight and Wild), but at least there’s somewhat of a gentle breeze to balance out the heat, and a quiet moment protected from any childish shenanigans is never something to turn down.

Most of the boys have been whisked off by Wind who had deemed it a crime that some of them have never seen the sea before. Those who managed to escape his attention have hopefully been keeping out of trouble on their own, basking in much needed time to themselves elsewhere on the island (after all, it does get tiresome traveling in such a large group for so long).

It matters not which deity has decided to smile down upon him today and grace him with this break. What matters is Time’s relaxed - as relaxed as a man with his background and mindset can ever be - while standing here in the sun, soaking in its glow and your perfectly tranquil company.

Ah yes, he hasn’t been left entirely alone. You’re here, too, but unlike his traveling companions, you’re closer to his age and thus seem to match his level of maturity and easygoing nature - a godsent in these trifling times, really.

Currently, you sit upon the porch humming a pleasant little tune while combing Aryll’s hair. She sits between your legs, happily swinging her feet as you work small handfuls at a time, your movements as gentle and careful as the breeze - And that adoring look in your eyes…It could be enough to melt any heart.

Time finds himself being put at ease by the domestic sight, wordlessly admiring how effortlessly you balance caring for the young child while conversing with a stranger like himself, speaking to him softly as if a personal friend of yours:

“Link’ll probably want to stay with his grandma tonight, but the rest of you might do better staying with me. I’m sure she’ll offer, though I’d worry about the stress hosting so many traveler’s would put on her,” You explain, skillfully dividing Aryll’s hair into two blue ribbons, “I have space in my own hut, so there’d be no trouble.”

“It’s nice weather,” Time mentions, gazing up at the clear sky above, “None of us would mind sleeping under the stars -”

“- No trouble at all,” You emphasize with a breath, pretending not to hear his own point. He merely smiles, having no will to argue. They haven’t been here long, and yet this is the second argument he’s unlikely to win against you. The first was your insistence that they stay the night at all with promises to host them well.

Once finished with her hair, Aryll thanks you in a hurry before scurrying off to find her big brother. You chuckle at her enthusiasm, but soon after, there’s a shift in your mood. Suddenly, you grow a bit sad and anxious. Time can’t help noticing the concern that briefly overtakes your expression, twisting your lips into a frown as you raise a nail to nibble on. Now that you’re truly alone, he can no longer mock ignorance to how exhausted you look, and it takes no genius to understand why that may be.

“...Rupee for your thoughts?” Really? That’s the best he can come up with in all his years of wisdom? It’s such a lame way to break the silence and an even lamer way to start a serious conversation with someone you’ve only just met.

Fortunately, you don’t seem to hold any judgment against him. Instead you sigh and look at him from over your shoulder with a sorrowful smile, “Is my stress that obvious?”

“I’ve been around long enough to know a mask when I see one,” Pushing him off the beam he’s been casually leaning against, Time invites himself to finally sit beside you on the steps.

You don’t say anything all too quickly in response, rather you turn back to the sea with a deep inhale.

“...I worry about him,” You eventually confess through a whisper,“Every time he comes back from one of his adventures, he’s…different. Not enough so for anyone else to notice, but I do. He’s getting older - more mature, for better or for worse - and the things he’s had to witness - the battles and responsibilities that no child should ever have to bear - I can’t help seeing how it’s all starting to wear him down, slowly but surely.

“...And I know - I know this is his destiny and that he’s already saved the world once. I know he can handle himself, but he’s - he’s still just a boy! He shouldn’t have to bear the burden of the world upon his shoulders! He should be running around this island, digging for treasure in the sand and catching pigs. Instead he’s finding treasure in dangerous dungeons and fighting pigs!”

Time frowns. What can he say to comfort you? That it’s all going to get better? That maybe, one day, Wind will return home and stay for good? Even though you’re a stranger he has no obligation to, he can’t bring himself to provide an empty promise like that, because out of all the heroes here, he knows best that it would be a lie. This road they’re on - This road the Goddesses have sent each of them down - There is no end to it…Not one that he’s found, anyway…

Fortunately or unfortunately, Time doesn’t get the chance to collect his thoughts nor offer any words of encouragement (if he could’ve even decided on some). You sigh before he has a second to respond, suddenly looking back at him with an optimistic smile only half fitting of the current mood, “...You’ll keep an eye on him, won’t you? Make sure he doesn’t get too ahead of himself, at least during the time that you’re all traveling together?”

"You have my word."

At a minimum, he’s able to give you that promise. The road ahead is rugged and treacherous with fearsome monsters around every corner…but Time can promise that he’ll give his all to protect those in his party. No harm shall fall upon any of the boys so long as he’s able to take a blade within his own hand. He’ll see to it that Wind returns to your arms at the end of this journey, safe and sound with plenty more stories to tell.

Your sigh releases some of the tension kept within your mind and bones, “...I wish none of you had to go through any of this…”

“At times I wish the same…” His agreement is flat and not exactly what you had hoped to hear, even if it is expected, but at least his next words seem to touch your heart more tenderly, “...But it’s not ourselves who we fight for. It’s people like you; people who deserve to live to see times of peace. The world’s safety will always be payment enough.”

As a captain in the Hylian Royal Army, Warrior’s experience doesn’t quite follow the same origin as most of his counterparts. His training had been professional and grueling, the weight upon his shoulders more direct than a mere whisper in the wind guiding him. He didn't have the luxury of stumbling upon his destiny or sneaking in to find Ganondorf when the time was right - No, he was publicly named then pushed by circumstances to meet Ganondorf on a battlefield, of all places.

It’s a life few in the Chain can exactly relate to, although some similar undertones aren’t missed upon Wild and Sky. While Wild isn’t one to draw any attention to it, perhaps not remembering enough about himself to know why any of this may or may not feel familiar, Sky’s a bit more acclimated to this systematized environment than his brothers, even if it is still rather different than home.

The army of this world clearly functions on a far larger scale than any of the knights back on Skyloft, and the air carries more tension than what could ever be found in a classroom, even on testing days. Nevertheless, Sky appreciates how much pride Warrior takes in showing off his world, not letting the stern expressions of anyone they pass dampen his excitement, after all, despite some previous experience fighting alongside inhabitants of other timelines, it’s rare that he’s given the chance to be the host himself, not a simple guest.

"There's someone I'd like you guys to meet!" The Captain announces at the same moment his eyes and smile lighten considerably. Clearly, he’s spotted a new target, one he makes a quick b-line for with the others close on his trail.

A call of your name is all it takes to capture your attention, although contrast to Warrior’s spark, you seem far less amused with your reunion.

“And where have you been?” You hiss, your narrowed eyes disapproving as they basically dare your friend - colleague, maybe? - to try excusing his sudden absence and casual reappearance. Now that’s an expression that really sends Sky back to his days at the Academy! Why, he’s only seen it about a hundred times on his instructors over the years!

"Working," Warrior must be accustomed to being on the receiving end of such a harsh glare, because he completely fails to even acknowledge it, instead swiftly changing subjects as he gestures to the heroes behind him with much fanfare, “I came here to introduce you to -”

"- Sailor!” It’s funny how quickly your expression switches, igniting like a fueled fire. Within seconds, you’re rushing right past Warrior to embrace the youngest hero of their group, “Now there’s a face I’ve missed! Long time no see. Oh, look at you! Have you gotten taller?”

Luckily, Wind seems just as happy to see you, giggling and practically hanging onto you as you rub your knuckles into his hair. With your arm still tossed over his shoulder, you raise an eyebrow towards the rest of the Chain who now feel suddenly out of place, not certain if they should also know you.

Warrior comes up to your side to explain, “Funny story, but everyone you see before you is a reincarnation of the hero’s spirit.”

“Ah! Heroes from different times?” You gasp, pressing a finger to your chin as you look them all over with serious consideration yet hardly any surprise. Maybe you’re just as used to this sort of thing as Warrior is, “...Now that you say that, some of them do seem a bit familiar…”

“You must be the Hero of Twilight Midna spoke of!” You conclude with a point towards their Rancher who jolts. Whether because of the sudden attention or the mention of a sore name, he won’t get the chance to say, “I’m guessing so anyway, based on her descriptions, although I must say, she made you sound more…-”

“- Brutish? Rugged?” Warrior’s smirk is smug yet sadly untouchable amongst the careful watch of the surrounding military.

“I was looking for a nicer word, but that is what she said, isn’t it?” You sigh with a defeated shrug before turning to the oldest of the group. You gasp once again, this time with more heart, “And you! You kinda look like -! But it couldn’t be…Is that you Sprout?

“Talk about someone getting taller! The last time I saw you, you were only yea high!” Time’s thankful that you don’t give him the same treatment as Wind, instead minding your distance while awing at the height difference between you both now, although your smile soon turns sorrowful the longer you look him over, “...Your adventures haven’t been kind to you, have they?”

“In case you haven’t already guessed, this is the historian friend I’ve mentioned before - The one who probably knows more about us than we’re to know about ourselves at this point,” Warrior finally explains to his confused friends, coming up to place his hands upon your shoulder, “Give us a favor and try not to overheat now.”

“Oh don’t be so jealous,” You shoot him an unamused glare and swat him away, however he’s saved from any more scolding when you at long last look to Sky. Based upon what little the Captain has mentioned about you up until this moment, you’re a simple Hylian with no powers beyond your strength with a sword and impressive knowledge of Hyrule’s history…So why is it that your eyes have suddenly managed to freeze him like stone?

"As for you, I recognize that shield from Skyloft's era which means...You must be the Hero of Sky!" Your expression once again lights up like a beacon as you swiftly take his hand and give it a firm shake, not seeming at all fazed by his stunned stance, "You're the Master Fi spoke of, I take it? It's an honor to meet you."

"I, uh - It's an honor to meet you, too," At least he gathers enough of his wits to stumble out some words.

"I must say, Skyloft was one of my favorite places we visited during the war. Such a peaceful island - Well, after getting past the life-or-death battles that brought us there in the first place," You say, nudging Warrior as the two of you snicker. Oddly enough, Sky feels a bit disappointed to lose your focus and even more so to see the bond Warrior and you clearly share. Why, though? Why feel so omitted from someone he’s just met?

Fortunately, the negative feelings don't sink too deep until your attention becomes solely trained on him, "There's so little that has survived in our history books about your time - a real shame, too. As the first hero, I'm sure you have some unique experience under your belt."

"I-I guess you could say that…" Sky mumbles awkwardly, shooting a hand up to rub the back of his neck. Then, suddenly feeling a bit bold, he decides to test his luck with an offer, "I could, um, tell you about them if you want?"

Your eyes widen while Warrior rolls his, "You shouldn't have suggested that -"

"- Really?! Well, I'd love to hear it!" Before he can react, you have Sky’s hands sandwiched between yours, your touch impressively soft despite your years of training and fighting or maybe he’s just imagining them that way, "Could you start with the Imprisoned? We fought it a couple of times during the war and man, was it a pain. Fi mentioned you thought it yourself several times. Tell me, how did you -"

"Aaand we lost them…" Warrior groans, face smacked against his hand as you practically drag Sky off without so much as a goodbye to the others, "We're not going to get a word in ourselves for a while now. Let’s just go see if we can’t get an audience with the Queen and come back for them later.”

#x reader #reader insert #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe #lu time x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu sky x reader #legend of zelda x reader

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yesimwriting · 11 months ago

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Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

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The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

#mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #logan howlett x you #wade wilson x you #wolverine x you #deadpool x you #deadpool and wolverine x reader

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cyberels · 1 year ago

Text

later, loser.ᐟ ᯓ★

˗ˋˏ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ-

☆ ellie discovers the quickest way to get a girl underneath her

daily click! palestine masterpost

☆: sometimes i start writing without a plot in mind to get myself out of a funk and and and this is what i came up w lol so sorry if it’s doodoo ass

☆ warnings -> mention of blood, injuries, all that good shit that comes with skateboarding, probably really inaccurate skating talk, drugs, tbh probably really bad writing but bare with me here, no concept of stranger danger from reader when she sees a hot girl (ellie) for plot reasons lol

☆ skaterboarder!ellie yayyy she wears glasses because i said so &&&&& also ellie works at a vinyl shop and reader works at a bakery :)

☆ ☆ ellies playlist! ☆ ☆

u don’t have to listen but i made it to listen while i write and i thought it’d be fun to add

my masterlist

ellie was no stranger to making mistakes, she’s human, it happens… however, she usually doesn’t make this many stupid choices within the span of one single hour.

today, ellie was running late.

mistake number one.

she practically flew out of the door and hopped on her board, mumbling a half assed apology to her neighbor who she accidentally shoulder checked on her way out when she put on her headphones.

she’s probably going way too fast, but she’s been skateboarding for years, she can handle it. she still has the penny boards that she started skating on when she was 12 hanging up in her living room, right beside some of her other boards she’s had since then that she’s either destroyed or replaced. she weaved in and out of the people walking practically effortlessly, not caring if she was pissing anyone off, they’d live. she’d never have to see them again, anyways.

she opened her phone to turn on her music.

you, on the other hand, were taking your time; you had a good while until you had to be at work. you’ve created a habit of looking for ladybugs in the bushes outside your apartment complex after you noticed that the plant is home to many of the little insects. usually you just glance at the plant as you pass by, but today, you fully stopped to look.

unfortunately, you were unaware of ellie being just feet away from you.

guess you’re no stranger to mistakes, either.

granted, ellie would have had enough time to stop… if she was paying attention.

which she was not.

mistake number two.

you hear a string of curse words behind you. you barely manage to turn around before you’re pushed into the bushes by a girl who promptly lands on top of you. her skateboard rolled away pathetically. it’s almost like it was embarrassed, too.

if there had been any ladybugs, they were definitely squashed now.

you open your eyes slowly to find the other girl hovering just above you. her necklace dangles temptingly close to your lips as she pushes herself up. she's still on top of you, her face just inches away from yours. she blinks a few times, slowly taking in the situation. she seems lost in thought, the wheels in her head turning painstakingly slowly as she tries to comprehend what's happening and her part in it.

she’s taking way too long to get off of you, though, which only serves to frustrate you more.

“hellooo? can you get up?” you mumble through gritted teeth to the girl above you, turning your head to the side to avoid her gaze.

in hindsight, you probably should’ve asked if she was okay, but right now all you wanted to do was get up and pretend like this never happened.

you don’t even want to know how many people saw you fall.

“oh— oh fuck.” ellie stuttered, taking one last glance at you before she moved herself onto the sidewalk, not finding the strength to stand up fully just yet.

she grabbed her headphones that had been flung off in the impact. small scrapes lined the side of them, but at least they probably still worked. she put them around her neck, letting her head fall back in her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions and the situation.

you sigh as you get up, and ellie can tell you’re mad based solely on how the exhale of air sounded.

“uh… you good?” you ask after an uncomfortable pause, eyeing the other girl. it was obvious you didn’t really care, but at least you tried to be polite.

you were still taking your time collecting yourself, brushing leaves out of your hair and wiping blood from your hands onto your jeans (thank god you wore black jeans today). you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow, but other than your scraped up hands, you were fine.

just really pissed off.

ellie looked up at you and then immediately looked back down, running her hands over her face once more. “yeah, i’m… good.”

you roll your eyes as you hold your hand (the one with the least amount of scrapes) out towards ellie, offering to pull her up. you can't help but feel pity as she sits on the sidewalk. not in a sympathizing way, but more of a "damn, this girl looks pathetic" way. she hesitates for a second, but then grabs your hand and smiles weakly.

“thanks.”

as much as you know that this situation partially is your fault, you’re still annoyed. you had spent so long getting ready today just to have some idiot push you into dirt.

when you speak again, your words come out harsher than you intended… not that you minded. “yeah. watch where you’re fucking going next time.”

ouch.

okay, maybe (keyword: maybe) ellie had caused the worst part of this, but she wasn’t going to sit here and take you blatantly being rude when you’re just as much to blame as she is. “maybe if you didn’t think you owned the sidewalk, i wouldn't have ran into you.”

you reach down beside you and grab her, now shattered, phone and her (also shattered) glasses. you raise your eyebrows as you look over the broken screen.

“maybe if you were paying attention.” you pause, wiggling the phone in front of her face. “you would’ve realized i stopped walking.”

she snatched her things back, she didn’t have a comeback for that.

her phone was fucked… usable, but the screen was shattered so badly that if she scrolled on it she’d probably slice open her thumb. small price to pay, she figures.

it’s not like she’s gonna buy a new one… but she would have to cough up the money for new glasses, though. damn it.

“why the hell did you stop walking anyways?”

you hesitate, looking back at the bush sheepishly, vaguely gesturing towards it as you speak again. “i— not that it’s any of your business— i wanted to see if there were any ladybugs on the leaves.”

“…oh.”

well now ellie just feels like a dickhead, because that’s actually really cute. that was not the answer she was expecting.

you continue looking away and ellie sighs, attempting to push past you to grab her skateboard.

mistake number three.

the second she takes a step, she falls into you again, her ankle completely giving out underneath her. you catch her, your arms wrapping around her hips as you hold her up.

ellie has never wanted to die more than she did at this moment.

her face was literally sandwiched in between your chest. she pushed herself back, hopping slightly.

what the fuck just happened?

“oh my fucking god. i’m so sorry. i– oh fuck, this is so awkward.”

yeah, awkward was one word for it. you stare at her blankly for a moment before you kick her skateboard towards her.

you could feel her touch lingering on your body like she was still there. if your hands were just a little lower you would’ve…

“its– it’s fine. dude, are you sure you’re alright?”

you sound more like you care this time, at least.

not that you do care, or anything,

just trying to make sure she wasn’t seriously hurt.

that’s all.

“i’m fine.” it was an obvious lie, but she was preoccupied with thinking about how she was going to skate to and from work if she could barely walk… she’d have to deal with it, she decided. there wasn’t any other option for her right now, she was already late.. “i’ll be fine.”

“very convincing.” you reply, looking her up and down. “you’re not seriously about to get on that thing again, are you?”

“not that it’s any of your business, but i don’t have any other choice, i’m gonna be late to work and this is all i have to get me there.”

you narrow your eyes at her.

no way this girl was reckless and stupid.

“what? you can’t be serious… you’re still going to work? are you an idiot?”

ellie doesn't answer right away, glancing down at her skateboard for a bit. you’re right, she should call out, but she hated the prospect of missing a day of work. money had been tight, even one missed day would be hell for her and her bank account.

“you gonna give me the money i’d lose if i called out?”

you opened your mouth to reply, but she was already flying past you, very clearly having a hard time but also very clearly not caring.

“don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk next time, dumbass!” she yelled, leaving you standing in the same spot just watching her leave.

…and kinda wishing she’d come back.

just so you could get the last word.

when you walk into work, it’s unfortunately obvious that you’re pissed off, if the way your manager immediately asks what happened as soon as you clocked in was anything to go by.

you’re thankful for the excuse to rant, though.

“god, abby, where do i even start? i literally just walked out of my apartment and some girl on a skateboard slammed into me and we both went flying into a stupid plant. got a face full of bush and not even the good kind.”

“jesus,” abby laughed, picking a leaf out of your hair. “was she hot?”

“was she hot? is that seriously all you’re gonna say?”

“...well?”

“i hate you so much… but yeah, she was.” you admit, defeat obvious in your tone. you’re well aware that this would’ve been a lot easier for you if you didn’t find the dumb skater attractive. you’d been close enough to her face to see every detail… her freckles, her eyes, her lips— damn it. you couldn’t get her out of your head.

this felt like a sick joke.

abby clapped her hands together. “this isn’t a completely bad thing! did you get her number?”

“no, abby, i didn’t get her number. i was too busy trying to get her away from me because she was stupid and annoying.”

“you’re no fun, could’ve got yourself a skater girl.” she frowned. “are you okay though?”

“you should’ve led with that question, you know?” you huff, looking at the scrapes on your palms again. “i’m fine.”

“yeah, yeah. i should’ve.” abby tosses a pastry towards you. “here, for your troubles, on the house. go sit down in the break room for a little bit, you look like a mess.”

“gonna ignore the last part. thanks, abs.”

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

“jesus fucking christ.” ellie mumbled to herself, hopping off her board before she opened the door to the small vinyl store she worked at.

“late again, williams— oh. oh wow. you look like shit.” austin, the owner of the shop spoke, nudging ellie as she walked by. he was wearing a stupid smirk on his face which made ellie more aggravated.

asshole.

“real nice.” ellie grumbled, putting up her skateboard and backpack. “sorry for being late, won’t happen again, i just— some people are so stupid, you know?”

“by ‘some people’ do you mean you?” he laughed, spinning on his chair. he mocked the way ellie spoke, doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her.

god, he was a 30 year old man-child, but he pays her… so… whatever. she’ll deal.

“ha-ha. good one.”

“ya gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna leave me guessin’?”

“what happened is people don’t know how to walk anymore.” she scoffed, taking stock of the money she had to count before putting it in the drawer. “so fucking stupid.”

“by the looks of it you don’t know how to walk anymore, either. you gonna be able to work? i’m not payin’ ya to sit around, so if i need to call someone else in…”

she glared at him, trying to see if he’d explode if she stared hard enough.

he was right though, unfortunately, ellie was walking like she had just learned how to. it wasn’t the worst injury she’s ever got from skateboarding, but it was definitely inconvenient.

“yeah, i’ll be fine.” ellie snapped, shifting her weight to her good foot to avoid making her injury any worse. “jesus christ, it’s a twisted ankle. i’m not missing a limb.”

“but—“

“drop it.”

he put his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk still on his face. “oooookay, okay. whatever you say williams. you were still late though, let’s go back to talkin’ about that. what’s the count at now? is this the fifth or sixth time this month?”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. shit’s hard when you don’t have a car.” ellie sighed, punching in the numbers on her register. “i’ll do better. today was not my fault, though.”

“am i gonna have to be more strict with you? everyone else shows up on time, you know?”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” ellie rolled her eyes, trying to focus on work and push the pain out of her mind. “everyone else has a car.”

ellie really did not like austin. his whole holier-than-thou attitude irked her to no end.

still, it beat being jobless, so she knew she shouldn’t complain.

“don’t let it happen again.”

“i won’t, i swear. i’m really sorry.”

“right, okay, i’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, you alright out here?”

she bit her tongue, holding back a groan.

austin ‘going to the bathroom’ was his way of saying that he’s gonna get really fucking stoned and then sit around and do nothing all day. this was a daily occurrence, at this rate.

“yeah, yeah, i’m good.” ellie mumbled, shoving away the annoyance she felt when he walked past her.

austin was a dickhead, but he was never outright mean, not really. he just… he thought he was better than everyone. a classic ego-centric prick.

as much as she hated him, she did like having a job— and being able to afford a place to sleep at night.

“ohhh, ellie, i gave you more shifts, like you asked.” he said before he walked out, smiling at her. “take a look at the schedule when ya get the chance.”

he has to be kidding.

she’s been begging for more shifts since god knows how long ago, and he decides to give her more now? when she doesn’t even know how she’s gonna be able to make it to work?

amazing. just what she wanted!

“great.” ellie muttered, shooting him a glare even though he was already gone. “more hours that i don’t know how the hell i’m gonna get to.”

she shook her head, austin wasn’t worth getting this pissed about— especially when he did try to do what she asked.

the store was never busy in the morning, so she sat in austins chair, finally taking a second to herself. she went over her options on how this was going to go.

she could have asked dina for a ride, if dina wasn’t off on some work trip about three hours away for the next two weeks, taking her and jesses shared car with her.

terrible timing.

she’d take public transportation if it was reliable and also if she didn’t have a few bad experiences with it already.

that wasn’t really a good option.

uber was definitely not an option. she already was going to have to buy new glasses and eventually pay for her phone to get fixed, she wasn’t about to drop $50 a day on ride.

she was screwed.

nothing was working out for her right now— the universe was laughing at her, just like it always did.

she wanted to kick and scream, but that wouldn’t help anything, plus she wouldn’t be able to kick very well right now.

oh well… she’d be fine, she’d just have to push through it.

her phone buzzed in her pocket and she winced when she seen the cracked screen again, it was so wrecked that it barely let her type in her password.

──── ✧《✿》✧ ────

was ellie stupid for agreeing to go out of her way when she was already struggling to walk? yes.

does she care? no.

jesse was a good guy, he’s done a shit ton of favors for her, so this was the least she could do.

she’d never been to the bakery, but she always smelled it when she’d pass by, and it always looked like it’d be good. she did deserve a little treat after the day she had, anyways.

thank you jesse and jesse’s money.

when ellies shift is over, she feels so much worse than she did earlier, and austin repeating that ellie looked like shit over and over again wasn’t helping.

ugh.

“you’re a wreck, williams—“

“—goodbye austin, byeee. i’m leaving, out the door, shifts over. see you tomorrow.” she slammed the door shut, letting out a frustrated sigh as she got on her board again. “god. fuck off.”

the bakery wasn’t far, it was literally right across the street, but it felt like it was miles away to ellie. she leaned on the wall for a second to catch her breath before she walked inside.

it was a cute shop, one of those places you see on pinterest or instagram, with the led light signs and fake plants, it was actually really nice. she doesn’t know why she never came here before.

“let me know if i can help… oh god. it’s you.”

she looks over at you and she starts to wish the fall had just killed her on impact.

“please… pretend like this morning didn’t happen. i don’t want to deal with arguing right now.” ellie sighs, not giving you time to reply to her before she goes into saying her order.

she looked at your name tag as she paid, she could barely see what it said, her eyes squinting slightly as she tried to make out your name.

you scribbled little smiley faces and stars around your name, which was cuter than ellie would like to admit.

“go sit, i’ll bring your stuff to you after i box them, ‘kay?”

“i can wait here.“

“sit.”

“fine.”

she sat at one of the booths, attempting to use her phone without losing a finger. she wasn’t even paying attention to the content, just scrolling mindlessly as the memories of this morning replayed in her mind over and over again.

she was hoping to never see you again.

maybe coming here was a mistake.

“here.” you say after a few moments, placing the boxes on the table. “enjoy.”

you were being kind, but she could read behind the curtness of your tone.

you thought she was dumb. she could always tell by the way you talked to her; that look of disdain on your face.

“thanks.” she said, and then the silence took over again. it was obvious that neither of them wanted to start another conversation after the way the last one ended.

ellie couldn’t help but notice how just scraped up your hands were. you had bandages on them, but the blood that seeped through was bright red, like it was demanding to be looked at.

demanding ellie to feel bad for what she did.

damn it, she really should’ve just paid attention this morning.

would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

she got up, sucking her teeth and hissing as she shifted her weight. she leaned on the table for balance as a few curse words left her mouth.

“god, you’re the dumbest person i’ve ever met.” you declared, confirming her suspicions.

she scoffed, trying to shake the pain away from her ankle.

man, this sucked.

“shut the hell up.” ellie snapped. “you don’t have to be so snarky, you know? i’m already dealing with the consequences of my shitty morning, you can drop the whole, ‘i’m better than you’ bullshit. if you listened earlier, you’d have known i said that i have no other choice.”

“i did listen, idiot. i don’t mean to sound like i’m trying to be better than you, okay? i’m sorry. but you seriously don’t have anyone that can help you out? do you have friends?”

“i have friends, asshole. they’re just either busy or i don’t want to inconvenience them. what’s it matter to you anyways?”

you don’t really have an answer, you’re not sure why it matters. maybe it’s because ellie looked really miserable, or maybe it’s because it had been partially your fault that she’s hurt… or maybe both. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt about the situation she was in.

“i have a car.”

ellie paused, looking up at you. she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly, or if this was just some weird, shitty joke.

“okay? congratulations?”

“don’t make me spell it out.” you reply, annoyance clear in your tone. “i’m saying, you’re obviously hurt, and it’s kinda my fault, so… if you needed a ride…”

“no.”

“don’t be stubborn. look, i get it, we’re not on the best terms right now, but i can’t just let you go like this without at least offering, y’know? plus, you seem like you could use the help.”

ellie’s mind was screaming at her to accept— it was logical. you offered a ride, she needs a ride, she should accept your offer.

“i could be a serial killer for all you know. you don’t even know my name.”

“yeah, okay. you? a serial killer? i’d just run away. not like you’d be able to chase after me.”

“hey, i can run pretty damn fast, you know?” ellie hissed. if she wanted, she could definitely chase you down… but she’d rather not do that at the moment. that was probably not a great idea. “hell, i could be an axe murderer.”

“what’s your name?”

“huh?”

“are you dumb?”

“…it’s ellie.”

“‘kay, ellie, now i know your name and if you’re observant— which i doubt but i’m gonna play devils advocate— you know mine. nice to meet you. now we know each other. i’m not gonna sit here and play 21 questions, do you want me to take you to your place or not?”

“what if you kill me anyways?” she asked, she was kidding, she just wanted to piss you off.

“i am not gonna fucking— you know what, you’re annoying. never mind.”

“wait. i’m sorry.”

fuck.

maybe this whole thing about you wasn’t so bad. you were just— abrasive.

she swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “i’ll take a ride.”

“what’s the magic word?”

“die.” ellie hissed. “you’re not funny.”

“almost! that’s four words. do you want a hint?”

ellie stared at you blankly for a few seconds before answering. “i am not saying please.”

“you just said it.” you grinned. “look, i get off at 6:30, that’s like… 20 minutes from now, if you don’t mind waiting. i’ll come get you when i’m off, sound good?”

“yeah. that sounds good.”

this is such a bad idea.

#max writes ☆#btw #ladybugs symbolize positive change #and luck #will make a part 2 eventually maybe i’ll actually finish this series #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #wlw #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #sorry i know jesses ooc but i rewrote it like 10492 times i can’t get it to sound good

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lexirosewrites · 1 month ago

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'Back to nature' (goes slightly wrong) steddie omegaverse… because I like the idea of omegas digging little burrows like bunnies and I think Steve would get good at it given a chance, so…

Omega Steve is through with his ‘Princess Steve’ reputation. Yeah, he’s got a ton of vacuous jock Alphas throwing gifts at him and howling to court and mate him. None of them want to talk to him, tho’. None of them are actually that hot. He’s sick of being wanted only for his pretty hair, pretty eyes, and pretty clothes.

So yeah, he’s through with that BS, and he does the last thing anybody expects of him. Packs a little bag, heads into the forest, and goes ‘back to nature.’

Steve actually listened in sociology and in biology. Apparently, this is what Omegas used to do when they couldn’t find an Alpha in their home pack. Forage for berries and shit and dig little burrows for nests. And wait to be sniffed and rooted out by an Alpha who actually wants them rather than the idea of ‘Princess Steve.’

It’s risky, yeah, but oh, so romantic.

Trouble is, digging an Omega burrow is even harder than it sounds. Steve discovers he’s not that keen on twigs in his hair or dirt under his nails or mud on his sneakers. He also realizes he hasn’t got a clue which plants he can eat without poisoning himself. After two days of particularly rainy weather for the time of the year, Steve is wet, starving and incredibly lost, snivelling weakly while trying to find his way home.

Cue Alpha Eddie, only faintly known to Steve. He hangs out in the forest because it’s a good place to hide his stash, and let’s face it, most people in the town pack are a-holes. He picks up the scent of a frightened Omega, hunts him down, accidentally scares the shit out of him…

…then snuggles him dry and soothes him calm again. He takes Steve home and sits him on his lap to revive him with chestnut and watercress soup (because Munsons know how to forage without poisoning themselves or their loved ones.) Their eyes meet over the steaming broth, and Steve starts perfuming wildly.

Eddie tries to get Steve to go wash himself. Steve, still kinda shaky plus unsettled by Eddie’s Alpha-ness, stumbles in the shower and whimpers for help. Eddie steps in, flannels him down, and winds up getting a boner while shampooing Steve’s hair.

Before they know it, they’re kissing and then scenting each other.

They get extremely ‘back to nature’ in Eddie’s bed, and by the end of the week, Steve is smugly delighted that he succeeded in his little experiment after all. His parents are so relieved to get him back in one piece, they instantly accept Eddie as Steve’s mate.

They buy Steve and Eddie their own little Winnebago, for some reason expecting them to live in the driveway.

Eddie and Steve drive off and raise their pups in the forest. They all get used to twigs in their hair and dirt on their sneakers, and Steve builds the best treehouses and underground dens for his babies.

princess Steve is not meant for nature😭

(also this is the end of my asks for the week, so if anyone has something to send, go ahead!)

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks

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saythenametotheworld · 2 months ago

Text

Tsunami | c.vn (18+)

You knew you deserved better; you figured that out yourself. But what use is better when Vernon’s all you wanted? A rebound gone wrong. Or maybe right. Depends on who’s asking, really.

Genre: rebound relationship, smut Pairing: Chwe Vernon x afab!Reader Warning: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), angst. Notes: 16k words. Title is based on Tsunami by NIKI. Prompt for this was from an anon who submitted a request a while back. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: I do not know them, nor do I claim they would ever act irl the way they are portrayed in this story.

Enjoy!

"A roaring tsunami, you came crashing in like an act of God. Shake my earth, suck the air out, burn me down."

They called it the Midterms Party. It wasn’t an official university function, but it was a tradition—it happens every semester, with students or groups of students bidding to get the opportunity to host it. This semester, it was hosted by a posh Fashion and Design senior who had invited every single student on campus to attend the party at a sprawling mansion on the upper side of town.

You haven’t even met the girl, but you sure felt at home in her Chesterfield couches and expensive wool carpet.

“Rich kids sure know how to host a party,” said Vivi, throwing her head back as she drank a shot of tequila. “Hooh! That’s the good stuff.”

“We should take that shot glass home,” you grinned drunkenly, half-lidded eyes trying to focus on the crystal shot glass in Vivi’s hand.

Vivi’s eyes were gleaming when she asked, “Should we?”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Jules interjected, snatching the crystal away. “Did you see those security guards outside? Yeah. Not happening.”

Vivi was about to protest, but stopped midsentence, eyes focusing somewhere across the room. “It’s Vernon.”

“Vernon?” Jules asked, just as you turned to follow her line of sight. “He’s here?”

“Is that why Mina didn’t want to come tonight?” you asked, squinting to find which one was Vernon in the sea of students flooding the entire hall.

Vivi snorted. “Pretty sure it’s because she’s going out with Dean tonight.”

“I don’t see him,” you muttered, still squinting.

“He’s right there, brooding,” Vivi sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t mind him. Let’s go get refills.”

You rose to your feet, letting Vivi tug you by the arm. You made sure to grab Jules by the wrist too, and you made your way through the crowd until you reached the mini bar.

You got a refill while Vivi chattered nonstop about some guy she was eyeing across the room. Jules was only half-listening, distracted by something on her phone. You zoned in and out of the conversation, distracted by the sheer chaos of it all.

You were trying to grab another drink from the mini bar when you accidentally bumped into someone, hard enough that your glass nearly sloshed over the edge.

“Whoa—sorry,” you said quickly, eyes going wide.

It took a second for you to realize it was Vernon. He stumbled slightly, trying to keep his drink in his glass as he locked eyes with yours.

“You okay?” you asked, more out of reflex than concern.

Vernon blinked, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his gaze unfocused like he’d been lost in thought. “Yeah, fine,” he said, his voice a little rough. Well, all of him looked a little rough and messy—his clothes, his hair, the knot between his eyebrows.

“Uh-huh. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you added, not knowing what else to say.

He shrugged, and the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Guess that’s the point of the crowd.”

Vernon’s eyes flickered around, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be there at all. Then, as if deciding something in his mind, he glanced at you and nodded toward the back of the room, where people were mingling by the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony.

“Wanna get some air?”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “With you?”

He blinked, caught off guard. And for a second, you considered taking back what you’d said, but then he smirked, all gleaming teeth and pointed canines. “You’re right. That was so random.”

He sighed, tucked one hand in his jacket pocket, and tipped his glass in the air. “Well then, excuse me.”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to stop him—guilt, curiosity, intrigue—but you found yourself calling out, “Wait,” and following him toward the glass doors.

It was cooler out here, quieter. The music from inside thudded against the closed windows, but it was not as loud. Guess the thick walls of this mansion had other purposes.

You leaned against the balcony railing, arms folded over your chest, while Vernon stood a short distance away, swirling the drink in his glass like it might give him answers. Neither of you said anything at first. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly nice either.

“So,” you said eventually, “you always this cheerful at parties?”

He huffed a laugh. “Only when I’m spiraling.”

You glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at you—just watching the trees sway in the wind. “Okay, Drama King. You’re not doing a very good job hiding it,” you muttered.

He shrugged. “Didn’t really come to hide. Just figured standing around in a new location might change the vibe.”

You smiled despite yourself, small and quick. “Classic coping mechanism. Relocate the sadness.”

He took a sip. “I think I’ve mastered that. Relocation. Repression. Deflection.”

“Big words for a guy holding jungle juice in a red cup.”

That earned a laugh. A real one, low and warm. “Fair enough,” he said, then added, “I’m not usually like this, you know.”

“Well, we all have our days,” you said simply, not to dismiss him but to draw a line. Because maybe he was, or maybe he wasn’t. Either way, it wasn’t your place to say.

After a while, he said, “I messed a lot of things up lately.”

You looked at him again, but his expression gave nothing away.

“I was kind of… stupid,” he went on, casual like he wasn’t slowly peeling a layer off himself. “Or maybe not stupid, just… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Your gaze drifted back out to the street lights. “Happens to the best of us.”

He gave a small nod. “Still sucks though.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just let the silence fill in the blanks—you didn’t mention Mina, and neither did he, but the echoes of her name lingered in the air anyway.

You stayed like that for a while, leaning against the railing, both of you watching nothing in particular.

“So, what’s next after relocation and repression?” he asked after a while, straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Why? Are you gonna practice how to face it like a man?” you quipped, chuckling. Vernon chuckled too, shaking his head in amusement.

“Is it denial?”

“Mm,” you nodded solemnly. “Denial is a classic. Works great until you’re crying over leftover noodles at two in the morning.”

Vernon hummed. “Been there.”

“No, you did not,” you sneered.

“Actually, I did.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow skeptically. “Tell me your noodle sob story.”

He shrugged. “Well, for starters, it was supermarket ramen. The eighty-nine-cent kind. Barely edible unless you throw an egg in it.”

“That’s when you know it’s serious,” you said, eyes lighting up mischievously. “Low-grade ramen tears.”

You both laughed. It wasn’t loud, but it felt good. And when the laughter faded, you found him still looking at you. Not just looking—watching, like something about you had changed in the last few seconds, and he couldn’t figure out how or why.

You blinked. “What?”

Vernon didn’t answer right away. He just tilted his head slightly, like the angle might help him understand something.

“Nothing,” he said, though it didn’t sound like nothing. He took a breath, like he was going to say something else, then didn’t.

Your brow lifted. “Okay… why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “You just… caught me off guard.”

You frowned, but not because it upset you. You were just confused—confused and a little too aware of how close you were standing now. The space between you had vanished, like neither of you had noticed yourselves stepping closer.

“Caught you off guard, how?”

Vernon’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then flicked back up to your eyes. “You’re kind of funny when you’re not being mean.”

You laughed. “I wasn’t mean.”

“You were a little mean.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Earlier, you said ‘With you?’ like I was some random stranger.”

You stifled a laugh. “Well, you were being kinda random.”

“But not exactly a stranger.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already smiling. And before you could say anything else, he leaned in—not fast, not slowly either. But naturally, like it made sense, like maybe you’d both been leaning this way all along.

And you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even think to.

At some point, you’d gone from the balcony to the backseat of his car. The windows were fogging up with the heat of your breathing, your bodies, and everything building up between you.

Vernon’s mouth was on yours, hungry and careless. His hand was cupping the back of your head, the other gripping your waist. You’d straddled his lap at some point, your knees pressed awkwardly into the cushions, your dress pushed up, and your fingers clutching the collar of his jacket.

It was messy. Uneven. All teeth and tugging and short, shaky breaths.

He groaned softly into your mouth when your hips rolled against his crotch, his hands tightening at your sides. “Fuck,” he muttered, making you push back a little, one hand pressed on his chest.

You stared into his eyes, half-lidded and clouded with desire. You could feel his heartbeat on your palm, or maybe it was yours thudding loud enough to count for both of you. And his lips, god, those lips. You’d want nothing more than to have them on yours again.

“I should go,” you mumbled, trying to be rational despite every fibre of your being not wanting to leave this cramped space.

Vernon’s forehead creased, confused. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Because he’s Mina’s ex-boyfriend, that’s why. Because it’s weird. Because you shouldn’t want this as badly as you do. “I don’t know,” you muttered, your hand curling tighter against his shirt.

He searched your face, his breathing still uneven. “Do you want to go?”

You didn’t answer right away. Maybe you should’ve. Maybe the decent thing would’ve been to untangle yourself, fix your dress, and head back inside like nothing happened. But the pull of his body against yours, the warmth of his breath on your skin, the way he was looking at you like you were the only real thing in his night—it made the decision for you.

Fuck it, you whispered in your head, and then you kissed him again.

This time, it was you who leaned in first. You who parted your lips, who pressed your hands against his chest, who deepened the kiss like you’d never had any doubts at all.

Vernon made a low sound in his throat—like relief, like hunger—and pulled you closer. His hands slid down your waist, gripping your hips like he didn’t trust you to stay. Your thighs clenched around him, the angle was tight and awkward, but god, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered right now except the way his mouth felt against yours and the heat building fast, faster than you could keep up with.

Clothes were soon forgotten. His jacket was shoved off. Your dress was bunched around your hips, his hands sliding up your bare thighs.

You gasped when his mouth left yours, grazing your jaw, your throat, then lower, taking a mouthful of your boobs with the kind of reverence that had no business existing in the backseat of a car.

And then he paused. Just barely. One breath, maybe two. His lips brushed yours again as he whispered, “Do you wanna go out with me?”

Your brows furrowed. “What? Like… sometimes, or…?”

He didn’t answer. He just kissed you again—deeper this time, more urgent. Like the question was real, but this was more real. Like whatever came after this could wait, because right now, all he wanted was you.

And you let him have you.

The rest was a euphoric blur. Your underwear shoved aside, his jeans undone. The cramped space made every movement clumsy and rushed, but that only made it feel more desperate. You could barely breathe, panting into his neck as he pushed into you, a grunted curse falling from his lips when you clenched around him.

It was raw and uninhibited. There was no talking, just looking into each other’s eyes as he drove you to the edge of your sanity. Outside, the music from the party was still faintly audible. Inside, there was only the sound of your breathing, of skin against skin, of your hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the windows fogged and the car rocked beneath you.

You weren’t supposed to want this. Weren’t supposed to have this. But god, he felt good. He felt real. And right now, that was enough. You’ll worry about the other stuff later.

You stirred under a blanket that wasn’t yours, in a room you didn’t recognize. The light was sharp through half-open blinds, and you caught sight of the hardwood floor and the polished furniture around the room.

You blinked, groggy. Your head was a hurting a little, but not splitting—just enough to make you regret the fourth or fifth glass of whatever you’d been drinking last night.

Vernon! You screamed in your mind, memories of last night’s excursions flooding in.

You turned your head to the side and saw a shirtless Vernon, leaning against the headboard, scrolling through his phone like this was just another Tuesday. His hair was messy, sticking up at odd angles, and a few faint red marks stretched across his collarbone. You didn’t need a mirror to know you probably matched.

“Morning,” he muttered, not even glancing at you.

You stared at him for a moment, still trying to piece things together. “Where… where are we?”

“My house,” he said simply.

Your heart kicked a bit. His house?

You sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall to your lap as you looked around. The room was modern and clean—high ceilings, thick curtains, and framed art on the walls that didn’t look like they came from a dorm room clearance sale. There was even a full-sized couch on one corner, and a desk that looked more like a workspace than a dumping ground for laundry.

“What part of town is this?” you asked slowly, eyes narrowing. “Did you drive drunk last night?”

Vernon finally set his phone down and looked at you properly. “No. We both knocked out in the car. I woke up at, like, five and drove us here. It’s not that far from the party.”

“Where is this exactly?”

“Greenview,” he said simply.

Green-fucking-view. Rich people lived here. Football stars and neurosurgeons, and kids who wore designer slides to class. You processed that in silence, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you stared at the pristine bedroom.

You looked back at him, brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you lived around here.”

He raised a brow, then shrugged. “Now you do,” he said, leaning to plant a quick kiss on your lips before pushing himself off the bed.

Vernon stretched when he stood, all lean lines and muscle as he crossed the room in nothing but a pair of dark sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. You stared—not out of curiosity, but out of sheer, involuntary appreciation. He was pretty muscular, not bulky, but firm—defined arms, a sculpted back, and that sharp taper of his waist.

You caught yourself biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

Then you shook your head violently and pulled the blanket up like it could shield your shame. Get a grip. This was a one-time thing. A mistake fueled by tequila, dim lighting, and heartbreak. Nothing more.

Vernon glanced at you over his shoulder, smirking like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Breakfast?”

You ended up downstairs, wearing fluffy slippers and half-swallowed by his hoodie that smelled vaguely of fabric conditioner and him. It hung down to your mid-thighs like a hoodie dress, with the sleeves dangling over your fingers. He set a warm plate of eggs and toast in front of you on a patio table overlooking a private pool—blue, serene, and surrounded by tastefully trimmed hedges. The whole scene felt like something out of a very rich, very confusing Instagram story.

“Thanks for breakfast,” you said eventually, poking your fork through a slice of avocado. “I’m leaving after this. I’ve got errands and evening classes.”

“I’ll drive you,” Vernon replied easily. “You can shower if you want. I had someone wash your dress from last night.”

“Oh, thank you,” you said, relieved. “I was worried I had to go home like this.”

“You don’t look bad like that,” he chuckled, sipping from his coffee like this was the most normal thing in the world.

After breakfast, you padded back into his bedroom, marveling again at how neat everything was, and stepped into the en-suite bathroom that was nearly half as big as your apartment. The tiles were smooth under your feet, and a huge rain shower waited at the far end behind a glass door. You tugged at the hoodie, just starting to lift it over your head, when you caught movement in the mirror.

Vernon was leaning against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, shoulder propped on the frame. That same smirk played at his lips—mischief, confidence, a hint of sleep still softening his face.

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you doing standing there like a creep?”

“You’re not gonna invite me in?” he asked, his voice low and playful.

“No?”

He shrugged. “Guess I got my hopes too high. We did defile my car last night.”

You tried to scoff, but it came out breathless. “Defile is a strong word.”

He stepped closer, slow and steady like a lion who knew the prey wasn’t running. “Okay. How about sully?”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t stop him when he reached for the hem of your hoodie and tugged it upward. Didn’t stop him when his mouth brushed your shoulder. And definitely didn’t stop him when you both stumbled into the warm spray of the shower, your laughter drowned out by the hiss of water and the sudden heat of his mouth on yours.

The water was already cascading down, steam filling the bathroom like fog. Vernon backed you into the shower, hands on your waist, thumbs dragging slowly over bare skin as he kicked his sweatpants off.

“You always this handsy in the morning?” you muttered against his lips, breathless and teasing.

“Only when I wake up with a pretty girl in my bed,” he shot back, before nipping gently at your lower lip.

You gasped, more from surprise than pain, and your hands curled around his shoulders, feeling the solid, flexing muscles beneath your palms. He didn’t seem like a gym rat, but he was strong and big enough to make you feel small when he pressed into you, chest to chest, with the water pouring down between you.

His mouth moved to your neck, kissing beneath your jaw, then down to your collarbone. “Still not inviting me in, huh?” he murmured, and then dropped lower, crouching slightly as he kissed the space between your breasts.

“What? This isn’t invitation enough?” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

He huffed a laugh and pulled you flush against him again, hands trailing down the slope of your back to your hips. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and god, it was dizzying—how easily your body responded, how warm everything felt, how right it somehow was despite how wrong this should’ve been.

You tangled your fingers into his wet hair as he leaned into you again, one hand gripping under your thigh to lift your leg around his waist. The angle made your breath hitch.

“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse, eyes half-lidded and focused entirely on you.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Vernon didn’t need more than that. He adjusted slightly, one arm bracing behind you against the tiled wall, the other still cradling your thigh. His mouth found yours again—slower now, but deeper, more consuming. You kissed him back just as desperately, your hands wrapping around his back, the other on his neck, nails grazing his skin, and he groaned softly into your mouth.

You could feel him prodding your cunt before he pushed into you with just a little bit of struggle before smoothly filling you up. You gasped sharply against his lips, your back arching instinctively.

The heat of the water blurred the lines between his body and yours, every nerve ending dancing and buzzing alive. He moved steadily and relentlessly—and the wet slap of skin, the shallow sounds of breathing, and the occasional grunt were swallowed up by the sound of rushing water and fogged-up glass.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t slow. It was raw, fast, a little uncoordinated, like you were both still half-asleep and making sense of each other all over again. But there was hunger in it, and desperation, chasing a high you’d once experienced with each other and now can’t seem to get enough of.

“Vernon—” you breathed, fingers tightening on his shoulders.

His response was a grunt and a kiss, messy and off-center as his pace quickened, hot breath fanning your cheek. You could barely think, only feel. With the pressure building, your knees growing weak, and your wet skin sliding against his.

And then it hit, sudden and intense. You clenched around him, gasping, biting down on his shoulder to keep yourself from crying out. He cursed under his breath, holding you tighter, hips stuttering once, twice—then pulling out to finish himself with his hands, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a low groan that vibrated against your chest.

You stayed like that for a second—tangled limbs and shallow breaths as Vernon held you in place to keep your knees from giving out. His hair was soaked, dripping water into your eyes while you were shaking from the aftermath.

Eventually, Vernon let out a breathless laugh. “Bet you don’t regret inviting me in, did you?”

You rolled your eyes, feigning disinterest. “Oh, please. It was just fine. And you invited yourself in, perv.”

He smirked. “Whatever you say.” He caressed your cheek and kissed you slowly.

Vernon dropped you off just before noon. The ride was mostly quiet, but not awkward. You’d both already said what needed saying—or not saying—between tangled sheets and shower steam. When he pulled up to your building, he leaned his arm over the wheel, glanced at you once, then leaned in to press a quick peck on your cheek.

“Get some rest,” he said.

You nodded back. “You too.”

Then you stepped out of his car, smoothed your dress down your thighs, and walked into your apartment like you hadn’t just had sex with your friend’s ex-boyfriend in the backseat of his car, then again in his marble-tiled shower.

Closing the door behind you felt like snapping a chapter shut. No closure, no commentary—just done. It was just a momentary lapse of judgment—a one-time thing. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You changed, tossed the dress into your laundry hamper like it was evidence, and went about your day like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t crossed a moral line and then dove over it headfirst.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, you were on campus for your evening classes, hair washed, face fresh, voice steady.

“Jules said you disappeared last night too,” Vivi said as she adjusted her sunglasses—indoors, because fashion. Her grin turned sly. “Let me guess. You found yourself a hot guy and ran off like the good girl that you are.”

You choked on your iced coffee, sputtering into the straw. “What? No. I just—got tired. Turned in early.”

“Turned in early, I see,” Vivi snickered, turning to Jules. “She totally found a hot guy and ran off last night.”

Jules groaned dramatically. “Wow. So both of you left me at that party to fend for myself while you chased boys.”

“Uh-uh. I didn’t chase him,” Vivi said, arching a brow. “He chased me, for the record.”

You laughed along, trying to keep it casual, hoping the warmth in your cheeks wasn’t giving you away. Then Vivi turned back to you, squinting playfully.

“So? Who’d you leave with?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it again. Your brain panicked. Do you lie? Deflect? Pretend you don’t remember? You’d promised yourself this would stay a secret, but you hadn’t exactly prepared a cover story.

“There you are, darlings,” came a familiar voice, cool and clear with a posh London accent. “God, I’m starving. Can we eat before class? Did any of you eat anything at all?”

Your heart did a full-body jolt. Speak of the fucking devil. And what an alluring devil she was.

Mina crossed the green with two of your mutuals trailing behind her, iced matcha in hand and an oversized tote slung over one shoulder. Her long coat fluttered behind her. Her honey-brown hair was pulled into a high claw clip, with a few strands left loose deliberately, and gold hoops on both ears catching the sunlight.

You blinked. Somehow, next to her, you felt…pale. Underdressed in your plain knitted sweater and faded jeans. You’d never really compared yourself to any of your friends before. But now, after Vernon—after last night—you felt that creeping sense of awareness. Mina was beautiful. Magnetic. The kind of girl men didn’t just get over.

“Mimi!” exclaimed Vivi, immediately forgetting about her question as she rose to give Mina a kiss on the cheek. “Tell me everything about last night.”

Mina rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Later, love. Food is top priority right now,” she said as she turned to give Jules a kiss, too.

You froze for a second when she turned to you. “Hey,” you said dryly, leaning in as she moved to kiss your cheek.

“You look knackered,” she said, almost kindly. “Late night?”

You forced a shrug, praying no one noticed the spike in your pulse. “Something like that.”

“Oh, she’s had a good night alright,” Vivi teased, nudging your arm playfully. “Wouldn’t tell us who the lucky guy was, though.”

You sighed, feigning indifference. “Give it a rest, Viv.”

“Yeah, leave the poor girl alone. Let’s go get something to eat before we all pass out.”

The rest of the day was torture. Between classes and casual conversation, you nodded along, smiled at the right times. But inside, you were spiraling.

You hated the way your stomach tensed every time Mina spoke. Hated how you couldn’t look at her too long without remembering the weight of Vernon’s body on yours. His hands, his mouth. His raspy voice in your ear.

The guilt sat quietly in your chest, not loud or dramatic, but constant. You’d never really felt it like this before—this itchy, unplaceable guilt that followed you from the café to the lecture hall, even during your brief moments alone between classes. It only left you alone when Mina wasn’t there. When it was just you, breathing in an empty hallway or listening to the professor yap about theories and whatnot.

By the time your final class ended, you were drained in a way you couldn’t explain. The others were already discussing dinner—some new bistro that had opened just a few blocks from campus.

“It’s cute, and they do cocktails,” Vivi said, tugging at your arm. “Come on, you’ve been weird all day.”

“I have a deadline,” you said, wincing at how unconvincing you sounded. “Digital storytelling.”

“Sounds fake but okay,” Jules said, already turning to Mina, who was too distracted flipping through her phone to press.

You waved them off with a tight smile and walked away before anyone could question it further.

The taxi ride home was quiet. You watched the city pass by, lights flickering in windows and street signs. And as the car rolled to a stop in front of your apartment complex, your heart started picking up pace.

There he was, leaning against the hood of his car, hoodie on, hands in his pockets, head bowed slightly as he stared at the ground like he’d been waiting a while. He looked up as your taxi pulled in, his gaze locking with yours through the windshield.

You stepped out slowly, paying the driver without breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Vernon straightened, giving you a half-smile. “Hi. I texted you.”

“My phone was dead,” you replied, standing in front of him, keeping a reasonable distance.

“I see,” he said, nodding. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me.”

“It’s past nine o’clock.”

He paused. “I know. But I texted you earlier. I didn’t know your class would finish this late.”

You shrugged, arms folding across your chest. “So? Why did you come all the way here?”

Vernon’s brows creased, like he didn’t understand why you had to ask. “I came to see you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,” Vernon replied, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You didn’t answer, just looked at him, unsure what to do with the sudden flutter in your chest. It made you nervous.

“You’re standing kind of far,” he said, squinting at the space between you. “That’s not very welcoming.”

Before you could respond, he reached forward and tugged you in by the hem of your jacket, pulling you close until you were flush against him. You gasped, hands automatically landing on his chest. You glanced over your shoulder, scanning the street like someone might’ve followed you.

“Vernon,” you warned, trying to take a step back, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He caged you in, not forcefully, just firmly enough to keep you in place.

“What?” he lilted and then leaned in to kiss you.

It was softer than you expected. Less urgent than last time. When he pulled back, you blinked at him, half-dazed.

“We are not in the kind of relationship where we can do that in public,” you chided, rolling your eyes. “In fact, we’re not even in any kind of relationship at all.”

He tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I asked you if you wanted to go out with me.”

“When?”

“Last night. You didn’t say yes, but I kind of assumed it was a done deal after this morning,” he explained, smiling.

You frowned. “What—wait. I thought you meant ‘go out’ like hang out sometimes, not a… relationship.”

Vernon scoffed, looking baffled. “No. That’s— come on.” He sighed and shook his head. “Baby, I don’t do hook-ups.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? So you talked to me once and decided you want me to be your girlfriend?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a thumb along your jaw. “Come on now, that wasn’t the first time we talked. We’ve hung out several times before.”

“Oh yeah, there’s that too.” You pushed yourself away from him. “We’ve hung out before when you were still seeing Mina. You know? My friend Mina?”

Vernon sighed, his shoulders slouching as he leaned back on his car again. “Mina and I broke up weeks ago.”

“Doesn’t really change the fact that your ex is my friend.”

His brows furrowed, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “And I know it might seem a bit hypocritical coming from me because, well, I did make the sound decision to sleep with you despite it all. But that was just the moment. Plus the alcohol. We were vibing, having a good time and got carried away. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Vernon repeated.

“I said what I said.”

He paused. “So, it didn’t mean anything?”

“Maybe it didn’t,” you said, softer than you meant to.

His eyes flicked over you, unreadable. “Did it?”

You swallowed but said nothing.

Vernon didn’t press. He just stood there, his gaze steady, lips parted like he wanted to say more but knew better. You looked at him then, properly. The slouched posture, the furrowed brows, the hint of disappointment in his voice. Not the smug guy who had you pinned in the shower hours ago. Just a boy standing by your curb, asking if it meant something.

You could’ve walked away. You should’ve. That would’ve been the responsible thing, the friend thing, the safe thing. But your feet didn’t move.

You did a quick mental math. Vernon, as Mina’s ex: a con. Vernon, as the guy who made your heart race, your knees weak and cooked you actual breakfast: a decent-sized pro.

Mina and Vernon were done. Everyone knew that, even Mina had started going on dates lately. You hadn’t broken any sacred code exactly… right? Maybe there was a statute of limitations on exes. You didn’t exactly plan for this to happen. But it did. Somehow, it did.

And yeah, maybe this was messy. Maybe it would come back to bite you. But maybe it wouldn’t.

You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead like the thought gave you a headache. “Fine,” you muttered, dropping your hand. “Let’s do it.”

A crooked smile spread across his face, canines peeking through as if he couldn’t quite hide how pleased he was. “You sound like you’re being forced into this.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just turned toward your door and started walking away. You’d taken a few steps ahead when you noticed Vernon wasn’t following you.

“Are you coming or not?” you called out without glancing back.

“I’m coming,” he said briskly, and you could hear him shuffling before you felt his arm around your waist, followed by a soft kiss just below your ear.

Vernon, it turned out, was a pretty decent boyfriend. Not the flowers-and-sonnets type, he wasn’t exactly sweet but he was thoughtful. Considerate. The kind who remembered something you’d said in passing and sent you screenshots of memes that reminded him of you mid-lecture. A little deadpan sometimes, but surprisingly funny when he wanted to be.

You didn’t go out on dates much. Most of the time, you hung out in your apartment. Late-night fast food runs. Coffee breaks in between classes. And those long, lazy evenings where you both lay on the floor listening to whatever playlist he was obsessed with that week.

“I’m telling you,” he said one night, head resting on your thigh as you sat on the floor scrolling through your phone. “This guy’s gonna be the next big thing.”

“Vernon, that’s the third SoundCloud rapper you’ve said that about this week.”

He just grinned up at you, fingers lightly stroking the bare skin under your hoodie. “One of them’s bound to make it. Law of averages.”

He was freaky, too. Always touching, always finding a way to close the space between you. Whether it was sliding up behind you while you brushed your teeth or slipping his hand under your shirt while you were trying to find a movie to stream.

“You’re like a raccoon in heat,” you complained once, swatting him away as he kissed the back of your neck. “You don’t even ask.”

“You never say no,” he muttered into your shoulder, sniffing your skin afterwards like he was addicted to it.

You rolled your eyes, half-laughing. “That’s not the same thing.”

But you didn’t push him away. You never really did.

He was bold, sure, but not pushy. Just… shameless, really. Just always in the mood. Always ready to turn a casual kiss into something steamier. And he made it funny, somehow. Endearing. Like he wasn’t taking himself too seriously, but couldn’t help himself either.

And it wasn’t just about the physicality—he liked looking at you. Really looking. Sometimes it made you squirm, that intensity in his eyes like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re doing it again,” you said one evening after, still breathless and sprawled across your bed.

He propped his head up on one hand. “Doing what?”

“You’re staring.”

“I like staring at you,” he admitted. “You’re really pretty.”

You scoffed, tossing a pillow at him. “You are such a liar.”

He laughed and caught the pillow mid-air. “No, seriously. You’re way too good for me. You could do better.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you muttered, fixing your gaze on the ceiling. “That’s not funny.”

His smile faded a little, just enough. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just kissed him again. Lightly. Like a thank-you. Like a stop-talking-now.

You never told your friends.

At first, it was just easier that way. Although it did make you feel guilty and anxious. You knew they’d find out eventually—especially since Vernon didn’t seem all that interested in hiding it—but for now, you did what you could to keep things under wraps. Avoided walking too close on campus. Left his name out of your stories.

Anyway, you’d just started. You weren’t even sure if it was serious yet.

You kept telling yourself that. It wasn’t serious. You weren’t serious. Just vibing, having fun, seeing where it went.

Except… day by day, you kept falling for him. Little by little. The way your stomach flipped whenever his name lit up your phone. The way your day never really felt done until you’d seen him.

It was a slow Saturday afternoon when the knock came. You weren’t expecting him—you hadn’t even texted him yet—but when you opened the door in your oversized pajamas, there he was, standing with a plastic bag in one hand and a smug look on his face.

And a buzz cut.

You stared, jaw dropping. “No way,” you blurted, blinking at him like he’d shown up with a new face. “What is that?”

Vernon grinned, stepping inside as he rubbed his head. “A haircut?”

“No, that’s shapeshifting,” you said, clinging to him and tiptoeing a little to poke his head. “Where’s your hair? Where’s my hair? I liked your hair.”

“I just thought I’d cut it for a change,” he said, setting the bag on your kitchen counter like nothing was wrong. “It’s just hair.”

“Wrong. It was beautiful hair,” you argued, crossing your arms. “It was soft. Brown. Touchable. Now you look like you’re enlisting.”

That made him laugh out loud, head lolling back and all. “Come on. I brought snacks.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but then reached up to gently rub a hand over his buzzed scalp, curiosity winning over irritation. It felt... nice, actually. Warm. Neat.

He tilted his head, giving you a little side-eye. “See? You love it.”

You dropped your hand, huffing. “Fine. It looks good on you.”

Vernon smirked. “So, you’re into it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stepped in closer, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. “I know you like grabbing my hair when I’m down there, but I assure you, the haircut won’t affect my performance at all.”

You snorted, though you decided to play along. “I’m sure it won’t, but what about me then? Where will I hold on to?”

Vernon appeared to think, then lifted your hands to the back of his head. “You can hold onto the head.”

You giggled, pushing him away. “Stay away from me, Private Chwe.”

But you didn’t really mean it. Because a few minutes later, you were curled up on the couch with your legs over his lap, sharing a bag of chips and casually running your fingers over his fuzzy head every now and then.

It was late. You were curled up in bed with Vernon, the room dim except for the soft glow of your phone screen. He’d knocked out not long after your second round, arm slung over your waist and his breath warm against your shoulder. You hadn’t moved, just mindlessly scrolling and letting the post-sex haze stretch a little longer.

He stirred behind you, mumbling something incoherent and making you glance over your shoulder. “Hmm?”

No response. His arm tightened around your middle slightly, and then, just barely awake, he muttered, “Go to sleep, Minmin.”

You froze. It was quiet, almost just a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear.

He didn’t even realize he’d said it. You could tell by how his breathing deepened again right after, like nothing happened, like he hadn’t just called you by her name.

You turned back to your screen, but the words there blurred. Your stomach twisted tight and cold. You knew it wasn’t on purpose. Knew he hadn’t meant it. Knew people said weird shit in their sleep all the time. But still.

You locked your phone and willed yourself to sleep after that.

From the start, you told yourself it was fine—Mina and Vernon were over, she was moving on, you hadn’t done anything technically wrong. But “technically” was doing a lot of heavy lifting. Because the truth was, Vernon wasn’t just some guy you met. He was Mina’s ex. Mina, your friend, the sweetest girl you’d ever known.

You hadn’t pried into their relationship much. Mina liked to keep those things private—she wasn’t the type to air out dirty laundry unless it was already halfway down the street. But in a friend group like yours, sometimes things slip. You knew they were on-and-off for two years. Knew that sometimes she’d show up to brunch with puffy eyes and a thin smile. Knew she once admitted she loved him, but called him exhausting in the same breath.

As her boyfriend, Vernon never really hung out much with all of you. He was always just a name, a shadow in the corner. Mina liked to keep her worlds separate: her friends, her boyfriend, her self. Clean boundaries. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to pretend he was just your Vernon now.

Until he sleep-mumbled her name. After that, you started seeing her everywhere.

In his car—her music taste still in the saved playlists on his stereo. A cracked compact mirror in the glove box. One of those pink hair ties looped around the gear shift.

In his phone—random photos of her mixed in with others. Her caller ID and photo still unchanged. Even in Vernon himself. Mannerisms. Phrases. Words he’d unintentionally—maybe even unconsciously—say with an accent. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, in your ears, it was unmistakably her. Mina rubbed off on people that way.

But it was his house that really got you.

The first time you stayed over, you didn’t notice much. You were too wrapped up in the moment, in him. But when you started spending more time there—sober, dressed, paying attention—you saw her. In the closets. The bathroom drawers. Earrings in the dish on the nightstand. A polaroid photo tucked in the back of a book you grabbed off his shelf. Her smile. His arm around her.

They were everywhere, those little echoes. Maybe he didn’t even know they were still there. Or maybe he did, and just didn’t care enough to clear them out.

And that was awful because it meant you were walking through a space still haunted by someone else. Living in the leftover corners of someone else’s love.

You hadn’t said anything yet. You weren’t sure if you would. But ever since that night, since Minmin slipped out of his mouth and his arms curled around you like it didn’t mean a thing, something had changed. You couldn’t unsee it.

You couldn’t unfeel it either.

“Okay, spill. Who is he?” Jules demanded one day, putting her cup down a little too firmly.

You were halfway through your iced coffee, huddled in the corner booth of your usual café. “Who?” you asked dumbly.

Jules and Vivi exchanged a look like they were tired of your bullshit. “The guy you’ve been sneaking around with,” Vivi said, folding her arms. “Don’t act clueless. You’ve been weird for weeks. Dodgy. Distracted. Glowing.”

“Glowing?” you scoffed, aiming for a laugh, but it came out strained.

“Yes, bitch. Glowing. And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you vanish every weekend,” Jules added, leaning in. “We want a name.”

“I don’t vanish every weekend, not all the time,” you said quickly, but they weren’t buying it. You tried to keep your voice casual. “I’ve just been… busy.”

“Busy getting laid,” Vivi muttered into her straw.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Sure,” Jules said. “But you’re making it weird by being so cagey. We just wanna know who’s been putting that look on your face.”

You could feel the walls closing in. They meant well—you knew that. But their faces were too expectant, too trusting. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t drop the name and watch their expressions change. Couldn’t say Vernon and watch Jules flinch, or Vivi blink twice and say “Mina’s Vernon?” like she’d misheard.

So you laughed and said, “It’s nothing serious. Just someone I’m kinda seeing. No labels or anything.”

Jules groaned. “Ugh. Boring.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You deflected just enough to wriggle free, changed the subject, let the attention drift elsewhere. But even as the conversation moved on, something in you stayed stuck.

Because the truth sat heavy in your chest, pressing down harder now.

Your friends weren’t dumb. They’d figure it out eventually. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will. And what then?

You hadn’t meant to pull away, but you could feel it happening. You texted less. Skipped the group chats more. Turned down plans with vague excuses. Not because you didn’t love them—but because it was easier to not be around them. To not have to lie.

And yeah, it was the guilt.

Not just because Vernon was Mina’s ex, but because it was all happening behind their backs. The secrecy made it feel worse. Like every kiss you shared with him, carved a little more distance between you and the people who used to know you best.

You didn’t want to imagine what they’d say. How they’d look at you. Whether they’d be angry, or just… disappointed. You didn’t want to imagine Mina’s face at all.

So you didn’t. You smiled. You laughed. You swallowed the guilt.

On one sunny Sunday morning, you were stretched out on a lounge chair, legs crossed, eyes fixed on the glistening ripples on the pool. Vernon lay next to you, arms behind his head, chest rising and falling slowly, with a small towel draped over his eyes to block the light.

“Are your parents away?” you asked, squinting at the house behind you. “I haven’t really seen them around.”

He hummed, slow and lazy. “Yeah. Dad’s busy with business. Mom’s a diplomat so she’s not around much.”

You nodded, letting that settle for a second. “Do you have siblings?”

“I have a younger sister. Sofia. She’s in high school back in Seoul.”

“Are you close?”

“Pretty much.” He pulled the towel down briefly to peek at you. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” you said with a shrug. “I’m nosy.”

He smiled faintly and pushed the towel back over his eyes. You watched the pool glimmer and shift in the sunlight. You picked at a thread on your cover-up. “It’s a nice house.”

“Yeah. A little sterile, though. My mom decorated it like a hotel.”

You gave a short laugh. “It kinda does feel like a resort.”

He hummed again. “No one’s around much anyway.”

Silence fell between you, broken only by the low splash of water against the pool's edge and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead.

You turned your head toward him. “You know… I ask a lot of questions.”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t really ask me much,” you said, watching him carefully.

Vernon peeled the towel off and cracked one eye open at you. “Huh. Yeah. I guess I don’t.” There was no apology in his voice. No defensiveness either. Just a simple sort of agreement, like you’d pointed out the weather.

You pushed up slightly on your elbow. “Why not?”

“I just… don’t ask a lot of questions,” he said with a shrug, propping himself up a little too. “I usually just let people talk and pick up on stuff naturally.”

That made your stomach twist a little. “So… you’re not curious about me?”

“It’s not that,” he said, glancing at you with a casual smile. He reached to cup your face, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before saying, “I like being around you. I don’t need to interrogate you to figure you out.”

You stared at him for a moment. He looked utterly at ease, like this was just another afternoon in a long string of afternoons. And maybe for him, it was.

But for you, it wasn’t. You wanted to be known. To be seen.

You tried to swallow the ache rising in your chest, brushing it off. “Right. I just—yeah, okay.”

He reached over absently, fingers brushing your knee. “I’m sorry. I suck at talking sometimes.”

You nodded. Smiled even. But your heart didn’t quite settle. Because he was right. He did suck at talking sometimes. But the problem was, you didn’t. You liked talking, you liked getting to know him.

And his indifference, for you, was starting to feel like rejection in disguise.

The days that followed were… good. Objectively speaking. Late brunches that turned into grocery runs that turned into him falling asleep on your couch while you watched something he picked but never finished. Evenings spent trying new recipes in his too-perfect kitchen, burning things, laughing about it, ordering pizza instead.

You had your routines. A shared toothbrush at both houses. A playlist that lived in his car, mostly because it was your Spotify account and you liked to DJ from the passenger seat. He never complained. He liked what you liked, or at least pretended to.

There were always the moments, too. The soft ones. Like when he laced your fingers together without thinking about it. Or when he reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear while talking about something completely unrelated. Or when he’d murmur, “Come here,” and pull you against him with a kiss that felt like it could break you in half. In the best way.

And still, you couldn’t stop your brain from running circles around itself. Because he’d say things like “This café’s got the best chai latte—I used to come here all the time,” and your stomach would drop.

Used to. With who?

He’d point at a movie on your screen and go, “Oh, I’ve seen this already. Mina made me watch it like eight times,” and not even flinch.

He didn't even seem to notice. And maybe that was what made it worse. That he could speak her name like it was just another fact. Like it didn’t send you into a spiral. Like it didn’t feel like being poked in a bruise you were trying hard to pretend didn’t exist.

You never told him when it happened. Never asked him to stop. You didn’t want to seem petty. You didn’t want to be that girl—the one who made everything about the ex.

But sometimes it would stick with you the whole day. Sit heavy in your chest like something sharp you accidentally swallowed. And you’d try to shrug it off while you were sitting across from him at a café, laughing about something stupid he said. Or in his bed, legs tangled together, your heart beating a little too fast, hoping he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered every time he kissed you and wondered if he was seeing you or someone else.

You hated how jealous you were. Not of Mina herself—but of the time Vernon had spent with her. How embedded she was in his life. How the memory of her clung to everything, like faint perfume on old clothes.

And the worst part? He wasn’t trying to hurt you. You knew that. He was just being Vernon. Which only made it harder to justify how mad you felt. Because how could you fault someone for not reading your mind?

“You okay?” Yuna asked, tugging you out of your musings.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Yuna didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t push. You were on campus, sitting on a bench seat at the quad, sipping your matcha when Jules and Mina strolled over mid-convo.

“—she looks like she’s going through something,” Jules was saying, phone in hand. “I saw her IG story. She bleached her hair again.”

“Again?” Mina snorted. “What is it with women and changing our hair every time we feel feelings?”

Yuna laughed. “It’s girlhood, babe. We don’t need a reason for it.”

“You know who else had a hairstyle change lately?” Vivi joined in, showing her phone screen for everyone to see. “Vernon Chwe.”

You almost spat your drink. Luckily, they were all too focused on Vivi’s phone to notice.

“Oh my god, he got a buzz cut?” Mina exclaimed, chuckling. “It looks good.”

Vivi hummed. “Yeah, well, he’s lucky he’s blessed with good looks. But it definitely looks like he’s processing.”

“Or that he’s moved on with his life,” Jules said matter-of-factly.

“What’s he even doing lately?” Yuna asked, turning to Mina. “Has he been trying to talk to you again?”

Mina shook her head, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Nope. And thank goodness. We are absolutely, completely over.”

That should’ve been reassuring. Should’ve been your green light. But instead, you just sat there, fingers clenched around your cup. Mina didn’t sound hurt. She sounded like someone who had moved on. You should’ve felt relieved. Instead, you felt small.

The rest of the day passed in a fog. You made excuses to go home early, told Vernon you had to work on something, even though all you did was sit in your room, scrolling your phone and staring at nothing.

You hadn’t told your friends. You hadn’t told anyone. But now, even without opening your mouth, it felt like the secret was slipping out anyway.

And the worst part? You were starting to feel like you didn’t belong anywhere—too dishonest for your friends, too temporary for Vernon. Teetering, always, on the edge.

The annual interdepartmental sports meet was always full of energy and chaos in the best way. Overcrowded gyms, matching shirts in clashing colors, and a week’s worth of trash talk between departments that took themselves way too seriously. You weren’t exactly a hardcore athlete, but when your department needed players for the volleyball team, you and Jules had said yes before thinking twice. It was supposed to be fun. A way to bond with classmates and rack up a few points for team spirit.

But now, standing courtside with sweat already gathering at the back of your neck and nerves tying knots in your stomach, it felt bigger than that.

Because Vernon was there.

You spotted him just before warm-ups ended—seated halfway up the bleachers, water bottle in hand, eyes focused on you. He didn’t cheer or wave. He didn’t need to. Just knowing he was there made you happy.

On the opposite side of the gym, your friends were already making a scene. Mina, in her oversized jacket and Vivi in sunglasses, even though you were indoors, were yelling like it was the World Cup. The others were scattered around them, with poster board signs in hand. They had no idea Vernon was here. They probably spotted him, but they definitely didn’t know he was here for you.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

The PE department had always been a formidable opponent. Every serve they hit came in like a missile, and you were convinced one of their blockers had arms made of steel. Still, your team fought back—scrambling, diving, shouting encouragements across the net.

Vernon didn’t look away once.

You scored a couple of solid points—enough to get your friends hollering your name from across the court—and for a moment, you forgot about everything. The guilt, the secrets, the constant balancing act. All you cared about was the high of the game and the thrill of being seen.

But the PE team was too good, and the final set ended with their victory. Just like that, it was over.

You were still catching your breath when your friends swarmed you.

“You. Are. Insane!” Vivi said dramatically. “Be honest, you guys have invisible wings, don’t you?”

“No?” you chuckled, smiling apologetically as you watched Jules wipe her face when your sweat smeared her after a hug.

“But you girls were flying!”

“Yeah? Well, wings or not, we lost anyway,” Yuna pouted, shoulders sagging.

Mina rolled her eyes. “Darling, it’s PE. Athletics are rigged in their favor every year.”

“Or they’re just that much better than we were,” you said matter-of-factly.

Mina shook her head disapprovingly. “We’re getting celebratory boba anyway, win or lose.”

Their affection came in shouting, hugging, someone sticking a phone in your face for selfies. And in all the noise, all the praise, you glanced up toward the bleachers.

Vernon was already standing. He met your gaze across the gym and lifted his hand in a small wave. Your heart flipped. You wanted to run to him. To hear what he thought of the game, of you. But you couldn’t. Not here, anyway.

So you waved back, just once, hoping it said all the things you couldn’t say out loud. Then your friends pulled you in another direction and Vernon disappeared into the crowd, just like that.

You’d spent the whole day surrounded by friends, moving from post-game snacks to the campus fashion exhibit where Vivi was showing off her latest collection. The group had squealed and clapped when she won a prize, and you were just buzzed enough from pride and fizzy drinks to forget for a little while that Vernon was waiting.

But there he was, leaned up against the stairwell railing in front of your apartment when you finally got home. Hoodie, backwards cap, and a grin that’s smoother than butter.

“Took you long enough,” he said, stepping forward to help carry your tote. “Didn’t think watching models in boxy dresses would take this long.”

You snorted. “They were avant-garde, thank you very much.”

Inside, you kicked your shoes off and beelined for the bathroom. “Give me ten minutes to rinse off before I pass out,” you called behind you.

Vernon’s voice floated in casually. “Make it five. Any longer and I’ll assume you’re crying over your loss.”

You rolled your eyes in the shower.

By the time you emerged, skin damp and cozy in a fresh set of shorts and a cropped tee, he was sprawled on your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looked up the moment he heard you, his head cocking slightly as his eyes ran over your still-wet hair and bare legs.

You dropped down beside him with a dramatic sigh. “Everything hurts.”

“Your pride?” he chuckled. “Those PE girls are a different breed, it’s not your fault.”

“My back, you clown,” you muttered, flopping forward onto the mattress.

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t. You were all over the court.” He put his phone down and shifted closer. “Good thing I’m excellent at back rubs. Among other things.”

You turned your head to give him a look. “How excellent?”

“Guess you’ll have to let me show you,” he said, pushing you gently on the bed so you were lying on your belly.

He climbed over you, straddling your thighs as he pressed his hands on your lower back, kneading slow circles over your aching muscles. The pressure was good, soothing in the first two minutes, until you noticed his hands kept creeping under your shirt.

“I can smell your ulterior motives from here,” you said into the mattress, eyes closed and basking in the relaxing pressure he was putting on your muscles.

“Ulterior what?” he said innocently, still kneading with one hand while the other shamelessly cupped your ass.

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re such an animal. I should sue you for this.”

He leaned forward until his chest brushed your back, lips right by your ear. “Come on. Let me make you feel good.”

You could feel his hard-on against the back of your thigh, his breath warm on your neck. You gave a whine of protest, but it was already dissolving as he kissed down the curve of your shoulder, teeth grazing lightly, hands moving more intentionally.

“Turn over,” he murmured, voice a little rough now.

You obeyed without thinking, shifting under him until he was settled between your legs, tugging your shirt up and over your head. He looked down at you for a second, eyes dark with desire, but there was something tender there too. Admiration, affection.

“You really killed it today,” he said, thumbs stroking the skin just under your bra. “Even if you lost.��

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Were you even watching the game?”

“I was watching,” he grinned. “Not the game, though.”

Your forehead creased and he kissed that space between your brows.

“You in those shorts, jumping around? I almost embarrassed myself on the bleachers,” he added, grinding against you.

You gasped, smacking his arm. “Vernon!”

He caught your wrist, guiding it down between your bodies. “Here. Feel what you did to me.”

Your breath hitched as your hand grazed him through his sweats, thick and hard and hot under the fabric. You curled your fingers around him, watching his jaw flex as he pressed into your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as your hand started to move. “You’re not helping my self-control right now.”

You smiled, tilting your head up so your lips grazed his jaw. “Since when did you have any?”

That earned you a low laugh, one that vibrated through his chest as he tugged your shorts down your hips, leaving you in just your panties. He dipped his head to kiss your stomach, then lower, his mouth leaving a warm trail on your skin as his hands gripped your thighs to spread them apart.

“Were you thinking about this in the shower?” he murmured against your underwear.

You let out a breathy moan, fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled you. “I was thinking about sleep.”

“Liar.” He grinned up at you, wicked and boyish, before dragging his tongue along the edge of your panties, making you twitch.

When he finally pulled them aside and licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, your back arched off the bed. His hands were firm on your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you still, even as you writhed. He worked you over with maddening control, slow flicks of his tongue, then deep, insistent sucking, then back again. You were already panting, hips rolling into his mouth, desperate for more.

“God, Vernon—” you gasped, fingers digging into his nape.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your spine. One of his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right, and your breath broke. He added another, fucking you slow and deep while his mouth stayed busy, tongue teasing your clit until your thighs started to tremble.

“Come on, babe,” he whispered against you. “Let me have it.”

Your orgasm hit hard, blinding and hot, a shuddering wave that tore through you as you cried out his name. He didn’t stop until you were twitching, breathless, pushing weakly at his head.

He crawled back up your body, grinning smugly. “How’s your back?”

You were too dazed to answer, grabbing his shirt and yanking it up over his head. “Take your pants off.”

“Ooh. Bossy.” He complied without hesitation, kicking off his sweats and boxers. His cock slapped against his stomach, flushed, thick and already leaking. You stared for a second before reaching for him, but he caught your wrist.

He grabbed one of your legs, hooked it around his waist, and lined himself up. “Ready?”

You nodded, lips parted, and he slid in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open until he was fully inside. You clung to him, gasping into his shoulder.

“Fuck, you feel unreal,” he growled, holding still for a second as if trying to compose himself. Then he started to move.

His thrusts were deep and slow at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pick up speed. You locked your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, chasing that burn, that fullness. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, of breathless moans, and the creak of your bed frame.

He kissed you between thrusts, messy, open-mouthed, like he couldn’t get enough. His hand found yours above your head, fingers lacing with yours as he pushed harder, faster, hitting that perfect spot over and over again until you couldn’t help but pull away from his lips so you could moan out of ecstasy.

“I love it when you make that face,” he panted, canine grin gracing his face. “Like I’ve got you losing your mind.”

You were losing your mind. You were close again, tighter and wetter and needier than before, every nerve ending on fire. You clutched his hand tightly, clinging into it like a lifeline.

“I’m gonna—” you barely managed.

“I know,” he murmured, biting at your jaw. “Come for me again. I’ve got you.”

And you did—body locking up beneath him as you came hard, muffling your scream into his shoulder. He followed with a low, broken groan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, his whole body trembling with it.

He collapsed on top of you, panting, sweaty, and smug. After a few minutes of catching his breath, he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How did you like my ulterior motives?”

You couldn’t even speak. You just let out a soft, dazed laugh, chest rising and falling beneath his.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he grinned.

You lay together on the messy bed, his arms wrapped around you while your head rested on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You could feel the sticky warmth between your legs, the light throb of overstimulated muscles, but none of it felt uncomfortable. Just, intimate. Like all of him was still inside you somehow, even after he’d pulled out.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, lips brushing your forehead.

You hummed and closed your eyes. “Barely. You ruined me.”

“That’s my love language,” he said smugly, lifting your chin so he could kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered open. “You’re so annoying.”

He grinned. “You say that, but you never kick me out.”

“Because my legs don’t work right now.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You let out a quiet laugh, turning onto your side to face him. He looked like a handsome mess—his skin flushed, lips still kiss-swollen, and somehow, in this disheveled, post-sex haze, he looked lovely. Boyish. Completely unguarded. It made your chest ache with affection.

He stared back at you, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. “You were really good today. At the game, I mean.”

Your brow arched. “Are you saying I wasn’t good just now?”

“Hey,” he said quickly, laughter in his voice. “You were great just now. I’m still seeing stars. I’m just saying… I was proud of you. Watching you out there.”

The words hit somewhere deep in your chest, too warm, too sweet. You looked down at his hand, now resting over your ribcage. “You didn’t even sit on our team’s side of the court.

“Well, your friends were there. I thought you wouldn’t want me somewhere near them,” he admitted. “Since they don’t know about us.”

You nodded. You didn’t need the reminder. The guilt still lived under your skin like a bruise that hadn’t healed.

“I’ll tell them soon,” you said, mostly to yourself.

Vernon didn’t push. He just leaned in and kissed your temple. “Take your time. I quite enjoy feeling like someone’s dirty little mistress.”

You chuckled heartily, letting your eyes fall shut again, breathing him in. You stayed like that for a moment, pressed against him, warm and full but still not entirely at peace. His “dirty little mistress” joke echoed in your head. Not because it wasn’t funny—it was, in a Vernon kind of way—but because it reminded you of the reality you kept tucking under the rug. That this was still a secret.

“Hey,” you said after a pause. “Can I ask you something?”

He glanced down at you, relaxed. “Go ahead, baby. You always ask me something anyway.”

You ignored the tease. “What really happened between you and Mina?”

Vernon blinked, visibly surprised, but not thrown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… why did you break up? Like, for good.”

He didn’t answer right away, and part of you hoped he wouldn’t. That he’d brush it off. But he didn’t.

He sat up a little, leaning back against your headboard, his hand sliding away from your waist. “We just… stopped making sense, I guess. At first it was great. But I kept fucking up. I wasn’t always present. She needed consistency, and I was all over the place back then.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I didn’t even realize how much I was hurting her until she’d already started checking out. We kept going in circles. Break up, I try to figure out what I did wrong, get back together, repeat. I guess she got tired. By the time I got serious, she didn’t want it anymore.” He let out a laugh, one that was bitter and self-deprecating. “She said loved me. I loved her too. But love doesn’t mean shit if you don’t put in the effort to make it work.”

You watched the way his face softened, the way his gaze drifted toward something far away, something not in this room. You wondered if he even realized it.

“I used to wish I was better, you know,” he added quietly. “For her.”

Something twisted in your chest. You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chest even though you weren’t cold. “You still wish that?”

His eyes flicked to yours. “What?”

“For her. You still wish you were better for her right now?”

He blinked, confused. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said.” You tried not to sound hurt.

He sat up straighter, brow furrowed. “I know, but it’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant I used to wish I was— wait. Are we gonna fight about this?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just—” You faltered, heart racing, lump forming in your throat. “I just wanted to know if you’re over her.”

“I am.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“Because I said I used to wish I was better?”

“Because you said it like you still do.”

His expression hardened, just a little. “Baby, I told you, that is not what I meant. Hold on. You asked me to tell you. And now you’re mad because I did?”

“I’m not mad,” you said, voice rising. “I’m just— I don’t know. I thought hearing you talk about it would make me feel better.”

“Okay…? Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know, Vernon.” You laughed, hollow. “Maybe from me pretending not to notice that your whole life still has her fingerprints all over it.”

Vernon stared at you like he didn’t know what to say and that silence only made your chest ache even more.

“I knew I was a rebound,” you said, voice lower now. “I’ve always known. But I’m so tired of feeling like one.”

“Come on, you’re not a—”

“Don’t lie to me and say I’m not, Vernon.”

His brows pulled together, but he didn’t argue and just sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

He ran a hand on his head, frustration starting to leak into his voice. “You never said anything. You never told me it bothered you that I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Because I wasn’t even planning to date you, Vernon!” you snapped, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “You’re the one who had to go and make me your girlfriend. You didn’t even give me a chance to think about what any of this meant before it already meant something.”

That shut him up. Completely. He stared at you, lips parted just slightly, as if he’d been mid-sentence but forgot how to make a sound.

“Come on, baby,” he said softly, a bitter laugh escaping. “You’re acting like I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me,” you snapped. “You just… pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to realize I didn’t want this.”

His expression cracked, like you’d just confirmed the worst thing he suspected about himself. “So what, this whole time you’ve just been regretting it?”

You didn’t say anything. You just looked at him. Steady. Honest.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Got it,” he added, voice tight as he reached for his hoodie on the chair. “Loud and clear.”

“Vernon…”

“It’s fine,” he said, already walking toward the door. “You don’t have to explain.”

You stood too, blanket falling from your shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah. I think that makes two of us.”

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. The door clicked shut behind him.

The silence that followed was louder than anything you’d heard before. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door like maybe he’d come back, but the hallway stayed quiet. The echo of the door clicking shut still rang in your head.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket around you again, but it didn’t help. You were still cold and it had nothing to do with your naked body and everything to do with what just left the room.

Your breath hitched as the first tear fell. Then another. And another. Until you couldn’t stop them, until your chest shook and your hand clutched the blanket like a lifeline.

You pressed your palm to your mouth, trying to quiet yourself, but it was no use. Your sobs still filled the entire apartment.

When you woke up the next day, your eyes were heavy and puffy. But you had classes later, so you tried your best to bring the swelling down and look completely normal. It worked; your eyes returned to normal, except for the redness on the corners that you couldn’t do anything about, no matter how much you tried.

And so you willed yourself to calm down, to face this day without the burden of the fight with Vernon weighing you down. To leave it all behind in the confines of your apartment.

But the moment you stepped into the deserted lecture hall where your friends were hanging out, you immediately felt the air around you change. Their attention immediately shifted to you, and you could already feel nervousness creep up your chest.

Vivi raised an eyebrow, her phone held up for you to see, and Mina—of course, it had to be Mina—was the first to speak.

“You and Vernon, huh?” she asked with a lilt in her voice, but you didn’t recognize that.

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t want to answer. Of all the timing in the world, this had to be the worst. You didn’t want them to know. Not like this. You were still spiraling from the fight with Vernon, trying to piece together what had just happened, and they were about to walk straight into the wreckage.

“Yeah, I’m seeing Vernon,” you snapped, more harshly than you intended. The words tasted bitter as you spat them out. “Mina’s Vernon.”

The moment you said it, it felt like the entire room was holding its breath. You could feel your palms sweating, your heart racing. They’d seen the Instagram story Vernon posted the day before. And they’d recognized you. It was so obvious, your reflection in the glass, the way you had been with him just the day before. But this wasn’t how you wanted them to find out. Not after the mess with Vernon.

“I didn’t want to tell you guys,” you snapped, the words tumbling out, sharp and jagged. “Because I knew you’d think I’m a terrible friend, that I’m some kind of asshole for getting with my friend’s ex. But I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, okay? It just did.”

You felt the words spill out in a rush, but it didn’t feel like relief. It just felt like more of a mess. More of a disaster that you couldn’t control. “I was just having fun with him, alright? But now it’s all complicated, and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. So sue me for being an asshole!”

The group exchanged glances. Vivi blinked, clearly caught off guard, but instead of the judgment you had prepared yourself for, she just scoffed. “You’re not an asshole. Calm down. Geez.”

She walked toward you, cautious at first, as if she feared you might lash out, and gently patted your shoulder. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“It’s a bit weird, yeah, but what does it matter?” Jules chimed in, glancing at Mina. “They’re broken up. It’s not like you’re trying to date him while they’re still together.”

Yuna nodded nonchalantly. “No one thinks you’re an asshole. If it feels right to you, who cares?”

You blinked, caught off guard by her acceptance. It wasn’t exactly the response you’d expected, not the condemnation you thought you’d face, not the judgment.But it didn’t matter much what they thought. It was Mina you were more worried about.

Mina, who had been silent the entire time, stood up and without a word, pulled you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, in the comfort of her embrace, but it was long enough for you to start crying again. She didn’t say anything else. She just held you, as though she knew something had happened, as though she understood that this confrontation was a result of all the emotions you hadn’t let out before.

When she finally pulled away, you saw the understanding in her eyes. “You alright, love?”

You nodded, still sobbing. “Are you?”

“I’m fine, silly,” she said softly, smiling. “You’re not the first person to date someone’s ex, and you’re not doing anything wrong.”

You expected to hear some kind of anger, some kind of hurt, but instead she just sounded resigned. After spending all those days worrying that you were a horrible friend, you needed more from her. You needed her to be mad, or at least to tell you that you were making a mistake.

“But... don’t you think it’s kind of—” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Mina, don’t you think it’s fucked up?”

She gave you an apologetic look, like she was trying to gauge how much of this you needed to hear. You saw her glancing over at Vivi, her face unreadable. “It’s not fucked up. If you’re happy with him, then you’re happy. I don’t see the point in holding on to grudges about who dates whom after a breakup. It is what it is.”

You could feel your heart sinking. The validation you had been searching for from her wasn’t coming. You almost wanted to scream at her, tell her she was wrong, that you had no idea what you were doing, that this was all so messed up. Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. And yet, she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even mad. She was just unfazed.

And for some reason, that lack of anger felt like a thorn being plucked from your chest.

“Okay, girls, this is obviously something we need to unpack,” Jules said, slapping Vivi and Yuna on the back. “Let’s ditch class and blow off some steam.”

You chuckled bitterly, wiping your face as you tried to compose yourself. “Let’s not. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Jules shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “No, you’re not.”

Vivi scoffed lightly. “You’re just looking for an excuse to run off.”

After a round of glances and a half-hearted protest from Yuna about attendance, the group had collectively decided that, for the sake of everyone’s emotional well-being (read: yours), the day should be devoted to ‘girlhood’. No lectures. No readings. No pretending everything was fine when something had clearly almost rattled your friend group.

You wound up spending the afternoon doing what you always did when one of you was getting some drama thrown your way—retail therapy, greasy food, dumb photo booth pictures you’d all cringe at later. The mall wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was the place you and your girls were most familiar with. You tried on sunglasses you didn’t intend to buy, stole fries off Mina’s plate, let Vivi drag you through every store offering a SALE.

No one mentioned Vernon. No one had to. He wasn’t part of this detox, not part of this girlhood.

By the time evening rolled around, you’d collected a half-dozen shopping bags and a little more peace than you’d started the day with. The group voted on takeout from your favorite Korean fried chicken restaurant and decided to eat it at your place.

“Honestly, can’t remember the last time we hung out at your place,” Vivi said as she linked her arm around yours, peeking at your face with narrowed eyes. “I wonder why...”

Jules smirked. “It’s the boy, obviously.”

“Did that dude have you on lockdown?” Vivi asked, not even trying to be subtle.

You rolled your eyes, shifting the paper bag in your arms. “It’s not like that.”

But the teasing stopped as soon as you turned the corner onto your street. Because Vernon was there. Sitting on the steps outside your building, hoodie on, elbows on his knees, and eyes on the ground. He looked up at the sound of your voices and immediately stood.

You froze, the breath catching in your throat. Your friends didn’t.

“Absolutely not,” Vivi snapped, stepping in front of you before you could say anything. “Turn around.”

“What are you doing here, Vernon?” Mina added, moving to block his view of you.

“I just wanna talk to her,” Vernon said, hands up like he knew exactly how bad this looked.

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” Vivi grimaced, feigning an apologetic look. “We have a thing and you’re not invited.”

You could see his jaw tighten at that, but he didn’t argue.

“Go home, Vernon,” Mina said. “Maybe use this time to reflect, yeah?”

Vernon sighed. “How do you know this is my fault?”

Mina shrugged, glancing briefly at you. Vivi replied, “Doesn’t matter whose fault this is. It was you who made her cry. We don’t want you here.”

“Guys, this is between me and her, please.”

Your friends all turned to you with inquiring looks, suddenly making you feel nervous. You swallowed the lump in your throat and smiled. “Let’s go inside, girls.”

Vivi didn’t move until you did. Even as you stepped forward, she stayed close, her arm brushing against yours like a silent signal: “Just say the word, and I’ll swing.” Before trailing after the others, she paused just long enough to glance at Vernon over her shoulder.

You didn’t look at him. Not once. Just kept your eyes on the entrance, heart hammering, keys slipping slightly in your sweaty grip as you ushered the girls inside and shut the door behind you.

And for a while, everything felt normal again.

There was fried chicken on the table, open soda cans scattered across every surface, and someone had put on a feel-good playlist that kept the room alive with laughter and off-key singing. You danced barefoot on your living room floor with Yuna, both of you losing it over Vivi’s ridiculous two-step. Jules was perched on the back of your couch like a cat, chewing on a piece of tteokbokki and pretending to be unimpressed with everyone’s moves. Mina laughed so hard at one point she had to clutch her side and collapse onto a throw pillow.

You didn’t know who brought him up first. Maybe it was Jules, maybe it was Vivi throwing a not-so-subtle glance your way when the laughter finally began to quiet down. Either way, it was inevitable. You’d made it through the mall and dinner and two hours of messing around in your apartment without saying his name—but that silence had started to feel loud.

“So… Vernon,” Jules said, curled up on the far end of your couch, chopsticks dangling between her fingers. “Are we gonna talk about it or keep pretending we didn’t see the human roadblock outside earlier?”

You sighed, resting your chin on your hand. “There’s not much to say. We hooked up once, drunk, and it just kind of… kept happening. We were dating, I guess.”

“Just like that?” Vivi frowned. “He broke up with Mina, what, two seconds ago?”

“Exactly.” You let out a humorless laugh. “He said I wasn’t but I really felt like I was a rebound. Like he was just killing time with me until he figured his shit out. He didn’t ask questions about me, didn’t really seem interested in the things I liked. He said he liked being around me, said he liked me a lot and stuff—but it never felt like he was trying to know me.”

You sighed slowly, heart lighter now that you were able to talk about this. But there was something still catching in your throat. Something you couldn’t say. That it wasn’t just about how he acted—it was how you felt every time Mina’s name came up in conversation, or worse, when it didn’t. Like you were constantly living in the shadow of a relationship that you hadn’t witnessed but couldn’t stop imagining.

You didn’t say any of that. Your damn pride wouldn’t let you.

There was a pause. Yuna blinked and said, “Well, shit.”

“I mean,” Jules began slowly, “that’s valid, babe. It makes total sense you’d feel like a rebound. The whole situation was set up to make you feel that way.”

“He probably has commitment issues,” Vivi added with a scoff. “That or he didn’t take it seriously from the start. Not even trying to know you? That’s a red flag. Come on.”

But Mina, who had been quietly picking at the leftovers of dinner, surprisingly had other opinions.

“Vernon’s not really like that,” she said calmyl. Not defensive, not biting—just honest. “He’s not big on questions. He gets to know people by doing things with them, being around them. Not through twenty-questions or late-night heart-to-hearts.”

You glanced at her and it was Jules who asked, “So he’s not deep?”

“No, he is,” she said. “He just doesn’t show it the usual way. It took a while before I realized he liked me back then. He’s spontaneous. And he doesn’t like wasting time on things that don’t matter to him. So if this was just a rebound… that would actually be kind of weird for him.”

That made your chest tighten. The way Mina talked about him like she really knew him. Somehow, you thought it would be painful, but instead, your heart was tightening for an entirely different reason.

Affection, and pride. Like a mom hearing other mothers praise your child for being well-behaved and smart.

“But,” she added, tone shifting slightly, “he does love bomb a little. When he’s into something, or someone, he throws himself all-in, fast. And sometimes it fizzles out just as fast. So maybe you’re right. Maybe it was temporary. But only Vernon knows how he really feels.”

There was a second of silence. Yuna finally muttered, “That’s so frustrating.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

Still, you appreciated Mina’s honesty. Her ability to speak about Vernon without bitterness, even if part of you wished she had been bitter. You wished someone had been angry enough to make you feel like you weren’t just spiraling alone.

“You want me to tell you something?” Jules said sternly, pointing a fork at you. “You deserve better.”

“Hear, hear!”

You knew that. You didn’t need people to tell you. You were smart enough to know you deserved better. That you shouldn’t be in a relationship if it feels unstable and uncertain.

But what use is better if Vernon is all you want? If, despite everything, you still wanted to be with him?

You could unpack this with your girls, knowing they’d have enough angles and perspectives for you to help make a decision. But you didn’t wanna do that because this was something you had to figure out on your own. This was something only you and Vernon could talk about. This was between the two of you.

And your friends were good. They didn’t push further. They let you rest your head against the couch cushions again and made plans to sleep over next weekend. Normal things. Safe things.

And then, it was time to go. You walked them downstairs, one by one, clinging to the lightness you’d clawed back during the day. But the second you stepped outside, that lightness evaporated.

Because Vernon was still there.

Sitting in the exact same spot, hoodie pulled up, expression unreadable in the glow of the streetlights. He stood the second he saw you. You could hear your friends making surprised sounds and murmurs around you.

“You’re joking,” Vivi said flatly.

He didn’t speak. Just looked at you as if he couldn’t see anyone else.

“Should we stay?” Mina asked quietly, her fingers brushing your arm.

You hesitated, then nodded. “No. It’s okay.”

The others weren’t so sure. Jules gave Vernon a sharp look. “You sure you don’t want us to stay?”

“It’s fine,” you said again, firmer this time. “Really.”

With reluctance and a few more side-eyes at Vernon, they said their goodbyes. Vivi mimed her two-finger “watching you” gesture.

Jules even pointed at Vernon’s feet and said, “Stay,” like he was a dog.

And then, finally, you were alone with him. He didn’t speak right away. Just stared, like he wasn’t sure you’d come out at all.

“I didn’t know if I should wait,” he said eventually. “But I didn’t wanna leave without trying.”

You stepped out, slowly. “Okay. Try.”

The wind blew and the cool air made you hug yourself. It was getting late and the night had gotten colder. You wondered how long he was waiting there. Had he really been sitting there the whole time?

“Can we talk inside?”

“No,” you replied before you could even think about it. “I don’t trust myself to be alone in private with you right now.”

“Right, I understand,” he nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Um, that night, when we fought… I, uh… I shouldn’t have left like I did.”

He paused, eyes softening as he met your gaze. “It’s just, when you said you didn’t want… this—” he motioned at the two of you— “us, dating. It kind of got into my head. I was a little upset because I thought I dragged you into something you didn’t want and that everything that happened was just…”

He paused again, looking away and then chuckling in a self-deprecating way. “Anyway, I don’t wanna make excuses. Point is, I understand now why you were upset. Why you felt like a rebound and what I did… and didn’t do to make things better. I understand the Mina thing. I understand why you thought I didn’t like you enough because I didn’t ask much about you but…”

You raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

“But you were wrong about something,” Vernon said, stepping closer, his voice low, not pushing, just stating a truth. “ I know you. We haven’t been together long, but I’ve known enough about you.”

He paused, glancing up like he was searching for the right words. Then, almost awkwardly, he started counting off on his fingers.

“You hate ketchup. Like, viscerally. You always wipe it off your burger before eating it. You set three alarms every morning but never wake up until the fourth, which is somehow always a voice memo of you yelling at yourself to get up.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “You like watching horror movies but always cover your eyes during the scary parts. You don’t like soda but you always steal sips of mine.”

You felt yourself go still. Not because he was saying anything particularly grand, but because it was clear—he’d been paying attention. More than you thought. Maybe more than you let yourself believe.

“You read too fast and finish books in a day, then spend the next three days depressed about it. You dance in your seat when your food’s good. You always fall asleep during car rides unless you’re the one driving. You get quiet when you’re thinking too hard. You ramble when you’re nervous.” He smiled faintly. “Like on the day of your volleyball tryouts. You talked about how avocadoes are a scam.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “They are though. Four bucks for something that goes bad in a day.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Point is, I notice. I might not ask a million questions about your childhood or your star sign, but I see you. And I like you. A lot.”

He stopped, letting those last words sink in. His eyes were on you, not pleading, but open and vulnerable.

“I’m not gonna promise you anything I’m not sure I can keep. But I know I want you. I know I care about you, and that’s not just me saying it because I’m scared of losing you, even though I am. I just…” he sighed. “I don’t want this to be over before we even tried, baby.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just watched him, arms crossed, heart thudding in a way you were trying hard to ignore. Because you wanted him—but you weren’t sure if you could trust him yet. Or yourself, for that matter, to stop letting your insecurities eat at you.

But you didn’t tell him any of that. Instead, you turned away, slowly walking to your door.

You unlocked it, paused with your hand on the knob, and glanced back over your shoulder. “Are you just gonna stand there all night?”

Vernon blinked. “No, I… um, I’ll leave you alone if you want me to.”

You huffed, stepping just inside the doorway. “Come on in,” you said simply, not looking at him. “It’s cold and you’ve been sitting out here like an idiot all night.”

It took him a second, but then you heard his quiet footsteps behind you, following you in.

Inside, you paused in the middle of your apartment, took a slow breath, and turned. Then you threw yourself into his arms. Vernon nearly toppled over, but managed to steady you, arms wrapping around your back, one hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his chest, sighing like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I overreacted. Got a little over dramatic. Just… got in over my head.”

Vernon shushed you gently, kissing the side of your head and tugging you closer. “Don’t be sorry. I get it. You can be a little crazy sometimes, and I think I can deal with that.”

You pulled back just enough to smack him lightly in the chest. Vernon just chuckled, throwing his head back before pulling you back into his arms.

“I’m kidding, baby. It’s not your fault,” he said, nose brushing your temple. “I missed you so much. You had no idea.”

You rolled your eyes despite the flutter in your chest. “Liar. It hasn’t even been a full day.”

“You sure about that?” Vernon murmured, pulling back just enough to kiss your forehead. “Felt like five weeks.”

You scoffed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the girl who cried when I left,” he chuckled, “even though she’s the one who picked a fight with me.”

You tried to pull away again, but he tightened his hold. “Don’t worry about it. I like my women emotional.”

You groaned, letting your forehead fall against his chest. “Shut up or I’ll kick you out for real.”

“Please don’t,” he replied, arms still wrapped tightly around you. “I missed you too much.”

You didn’t respond, just closed your eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. For a second, neither of you moved. The room was warm, and so was he. And even if you were still a little mad, and still a little scared, it felt good to be in his arms again.

He lifted your chin up, gaze dropping to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you said, before pressing your lips to his.

He kissed you like he meant it. Like he missed you. Like he was trying to remind you of every reason you’d let him in to begin with. His hands moved up to cradle your face, gentle, a little desperate. Yours were still fisted in his hoodie, keeping him close. Just in case he changed his mind. Just in case you did.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you a little breathless and grinning, he rested his forehead against yours.

You didn’t believe in neat resolutions. Relationships didn’t fix themselves overnight, and a kiss wasn’t a magic bandage for everything that had gone wrong. Maybe nothing would change. Maybe you’d still fight, still misunderstand each other. But for now, your walls were down and his arms were around you.

And that was enough. You weren’t going anywhere. Not unless one of you said it was over.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whispered.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” he murmured back, brushing your cheek with his thumb before leaning to kiss you again.

[fin]

#vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #vernon x you #seventeen x you #vernon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt vernon #hansol x reader #hansol x you #hansol vernon chwe #calcali

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sl3epyaf · 29 days ago

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Going shopping with the kings

So you decided to do some shopping in the human realm

Would the kings be helpful?

(I accidentally posted this when it wasn't done cuz my phone sucks lmfao-)

Okay ngl I feel like he'd slip into fatherly persona here-

Like he'd help you get the stuff you need- and he'd probably hold your bags aswell because he knows how heavy some bags can get thanks to shopping with his wife before.

Of course he'd also flirt with the employees to get you a discount cuz he knows stuff is expensive-

No.

Bro would not be helpful at all.

He'd 100% wander away from you and your cart because he cannot stay still and a few minutes later the shop/mall intercom says "MC, please come get uhh.. your child?"

Atleast you can enjoy the confusion on the employees faces when they realize you (probably) look younger than Beelzebub..

It didn't take you long to figure out that mf introduced himself as your child like the menace he is.

Beel might carry your bags but make sure he's with you at all times- he's likely to wander off with your bags in hand and then misplace them somewhere..

Levi would be sorta helpful?

He'd walk along with you glaring daggers at anyone who dares to look at you so atleast you won't have any unwanted advances towards you?

Leviathan is 100% going to judge what you buy, saying Hades would've provided with better stuff.

If you think he's going to carry your bags then you're more than a bit delulu. He's too good for that

Maybe if you promise to choke him later he might carry one or two.

The best person you can bring with you.

You want it? You got it.

Saw a plushie or game you like? It's yours.

Mammon will 100% carry your bags for you- and he'd carry you on his other arm if you let him.

He will insist that you only buy the best.

People will 100% stare at you at the checkout either because of your total or because of how much expensive stuff you got.. or both..

With Mammon around I can guarantee you won't get hit on- nobody wants to try with this giant man around..

10/10

The second best person you can bring with you.

He's not clueless about what to buy compared to the other kings.

Lucifer might comment on it if you buy tons of snacks but he knows it's your money your choice.

If you're buying medicine Lucifer will shake his head at you, Paradise Lost has better medicine and for you it's free so why bother spending your money on shitty painkillers

If it's prescribed Lucifer won't comment on it. Not sure Paradise Lost has medicine for anxiety/depression (this is just an example)

Honestly he'd put the other kings on a leash just to make sure they behave and won't embarrass you (They'll find a way anyway..)

The most useless mf ever.

It's a miracle you even got him with you while shopping.

You can either have him sleep in the shopping cart, on the floor or having someone carry him-

Honestly it's just better if you left him at hell-

Considering how short he is an employee might mistake him for a kid so you'll probably have to drag him out quickly..

Satan will not be able to get stuff from the high shelf so don't ask him..

If you're buying something that needs durability checking definitely don't ask him- he'll smash it into pieces and you'll have to pay for it- and you'll probably get a lifelong ban from said store..

I'd say it depends on what you're buying- you can bring him along with you but don't try to test anything with him..

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb lucifer #whb mammon #whb asmodeus #whb belphegor

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hummingbird24220 · 2 months ago

Note

Greetings! May I request a luffy x reader with a devil fruit that causes anything they touch die, even fabrics doesn't conceal their death touch. But after wano and luffy getting gear 5, luffy accidentally touched reader, and then finding out their ability now doesn't work on him, which made them tear up and ask for a hug as all they have ever felt was the coldness of a corpse and not the warmth of the living

Oooo i like this^^ Thanks for the request <3

I dont know much about gear 5 luffy (aside from the look) so hope its okay. Its preeeetyy short, so sorry!

The Touch of Life

Luffy x Reader

The sun was high over the Thousand Sunny, casting long, warm shadows as it danced on the waves. The air was filled with the usual sounds of life on the sea — creaking wood, flapping sails, and the distant screech of seagulls circling overhead.

And laughter.

Always laughter when Luffy was around.

But just beyond the edge of that sound, sitting cross-legged near the mast with your hands folded tightly in your lap, was you. Watching. Listening. Smiling when they smiled. But never getting close. Not really.

You didn’t wear gloves — not because you wanted to be reckless, but because nothing helped. Fabric decayed under your fingers just like everything else. Cotton turned to dust, leather cracked and rotted, even metal could rust away in your grip if given time. And people? Skin turned to ash. Bones crumbled. Life shriveled.

You didn’t need the reminders. Gloves only made it feel worse.

The Devil Fruit you had eaten — the Shibotsu Shibu no Mi — was more of a curse than a blessing. Anything you touched with your bare hands decayed. People called it powerful. Useful in battle. Terrifying.

You called it lonely.

So you kept your hands clasped. Always. It was your quiet rule. The crew understood. They’d seen what happened the first time you lost control. Brook had only chuckled good-naturedly after you accidentally grazed his sleeve, saying, “Yohoho! Good thing I have no flesh, or that might’ve hurt!” But the tattered edge of his coat still made you nauseous with guilt for days.

They all understood. They respected your space. But you still saw the glances. Felt the hesitation when a high-five was missed or when your cup was taken with a napkin.

Except for Luffy.

Luffy never looked at you like that. He never feared you.

He just… listened.

Like the time you sat beside him on the deck in the dark, unable to sleep, and whispered about what it felt like — to only know the cold of lifeless things. He didn’t say much, just stared at the moon for a while before saying with a gentle grin, “That sucks. But you’re still you, and I like you.”

And that was that.

Now, after Wano, after everything — Kaido, Yamato, the fire festival — things should have calmed. But something had changed.

Luffy was stronger. Brighter. His presence crackled like lightning now. Gear 5 had transformed him into something otherworldly — laughter incarnate, joy made flesh. But he was still Luffy. Still the same boy who offered his seat to you at dinner and saved the last meat bun when he remembered you liked them.

You hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten during today’s sparring match with Zoro, bouncing around in Gear 5. The deck was a blur of movement, and the others were cheering, and you were watching him — and then he stumbled.

Right into you.

He crashed forward with his usual lack of grace, arms flailing — and before you could back away or yell or stop it —

his hand caught yours.

Bare skin on bare skin.

Time stopped.

Your heart seized in your chest. You felt the familiar buzz of your Devil Fruit roar to life, ready to devour the thing you touched — and then…

Nothing happened.

No rot. No decay. No crumble of cells or dust or death.

Just… warmth.

Your fingers trembled in his grip. You stared at your joined hands like they were something alien.

Luffy blinked. “Oh, sorry!” he said, pulling back slightly, but not all the way. “Didn’t mean to—uh…” He paused, eyes flicking to your wide, shocked expression. “Wait… you’re not…?”

“I…” Your voice cracked. Your hands opened and then closed again. “I didn’t… kill you.”

Luffy looked down at your hands still touching. “Heh. Guess not.”

You stared at him, chest tight, your vision swimming. The warmth was still there. His skin was warm — not crumbling, not withering — alive.

Your throat tightened, and your hands suddenly clutched his.

“I can feel it,” you whispered. “You’re warm. You’re real. You’re not—” Your voice broke. “You’re not dying.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’m not planning on it today.” He laughed lightly. “That’d suck, right?”

You let out a shaking breath — half a sob, half a laugh. “Luffy…”

His smile faded a bit, and his voice softened. “...You okay?”

You nodded too quickly, but tears still spilled from your eyes. “I’ve never touched someone like this. Never held anyone. I’ve only ever felt the cold of death. And now…” You clenched his hand like a lifeline. “Please. Can I have a hug?”

Luffy blinked once — then twice — and then grinned so widely it hurt.

“Of course you can!”

And without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

You gasped — not from fear, not from dread — but from warmth. Pure, unfiltered warmth. It hit you like a wave, like fire, like life. His heartbeat thumped against your chest, his arms solid and kind and alive around you.

You sobbed into his shoulder.

From the upper deck, the rest of the crew had gone silent. No one interrupted. No one said a word. Not even Sanji lit his cigarette.

Because they all understood what this moment meant.

And for the first time in your cursed, decaying life — you weren’t killing someone.

You were holding on.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in his arms.

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. The ocean breeze brushed across your skin, cool and clean, but all you felt was him — the warmth of his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart, the softness of his voice when he murmured, “It’s okay,” over and over.

It was more than okay.

It was the first time you weren’t afraid of your own hands.

Eventually, your tears slowed, and you pulled back, just enough to see his face. His eyes were bright, full of that same unfailing faith that had pulled him through warlords and emperors and hell itself.

“You’re really not scared of me,” you whispered.

He gave you that sunny grin — all teeth and sunshine. “Nah. I never was.”

“But now,” you said, glancing down at your joined hands again, “I can touch you. I can hold you. I thought… I thought I’d never get to do that in my whole life.”

Luffy tilted his head like he didn’t see the big deal. “You’re my nakama. Why wouldn’t I let you hold me?”

You laughed, watery and raw. “Because I used to kill everything I touched, Luffy.”

He scratched his chin, clearly thinking. “Hmm. Maybe Gear 5 makes me different now. My body’s all rubbery and weird — like, freedom-weird.” He grinned. “Maybe even your Devil Fruit can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

You blinked. “Wait… you think you’re immune because you’re… free?”

He nodded confidently. “Yep. I can do anything now. Even hug my cursed friend.”

You blinked once.

Then again.

And for some reason, that made sense.

Not scientifically, not logically, but Luffy-sense.

And you found yourself laughing — really laughing, full-belly, shoulders-shaking laughter that had you leaning into his chest again. He laughed with you, his arms still around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

From the upper deck, the rest of the crew finally exhaled.

Zoro sheathed his sword with a quiet grunt. “Took him long enough.”

Sanji wiped his eyes with a sleeve and muttered, “Damn onions.”

Nami just stood there, lips parted slightly. “She… she’s touching him. And he’s okay.”

Robin’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “It makes sense. Gear 5 allows Luffy to embody the impossible. Perhaps her power doesn’t apply to him anymore.”

“Then does that mean…” Usopp leaned forward over the railing, eyes wide. “She can hug people now?!”

“No,” Robin said gently. “She can hug Luffy.”

Franky adjusted his shades, unusually quiet. Even Chopper had tears in his eyes, tail swishing slowly.

Brook sniffled, though no tears came. “Yohoho… she deserves this. She really does.”

Later that night, the Sunny was quiet. The stars above shimmered over the gentle waves, and you stood at the rail, looking down at your hands.

You didn’t hold them tightly anymore. They were open now. Relaxed.

And warm.

“You’re thinking again,” Luffy’s voice said behind you.

You didn’t flinch when he stepped closer. You didn’t back away.

“Am I allowed to?” you teased softly.

“Only if you don’t cry again. I’m not good with sad stuff.”

You smiled and looked over your shoulder. “I was just wondering… if this only works on you, or if it’s the start of something bigger.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Dunno. Want me to get Chopper to poke you with a stick?”

You laughed again — gods, you were laughing so much now — and shook your head. “No. I don’t want to test this on anyone else. Not yet.”

“Then don’t.”

You blinked.

He stood beside you now, leaning on the railing. “You’ve got time. You’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. So you don’t have to rush.”

You stared at him.

That grin of his could power a whole island.

“Besides,” he added, turning to face you. “You’ve got me. And you can touch me anytime you want.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Luffy…”

His hand found yours again, and he laced your fingers together.

Warm. Alive. Safe.

“You’re not a curse,” he said. “You’re not poison. You’re you. And I’m really glad you’re with us.”

The wind carried your answer away, but it didn’t matter.

Because this time, for once, you weren’t thinking about how much you’d ruin. You were thinking about what you could finally hold onto.

#x reader #one piece #luffy #reader insert #sanji #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #usopp #request #luffy x reader

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h1biscusgal · 2 months ago

Text

The little shifters Neighborhood.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

what is the shifters small neighborhood?: a place between your worlds, where you can stop there and reside in a comfortable waiting world with other shifters, where you can interact with them, be your own person, and find out newer things!

P.S// i decided to take one of the zones off, there wasn't much to do with it, so Thirteen is out of the way :)

the layout/ map:

now, there 5 zones in this world, and one main one that is the center of the neighborhood, the heart of this place, where every shifter can meet, have our fairs and ceremonies, help each other and such, the center is called "The shifters main."

now, the 5 zones are divided by each of their own aesthetic and world, buckle up traveler, we will have a very long journey explaining each and how it is.

ZONE ONE : THE EVERDAWN VALLEY

"where time moves like honey."

an enchanted valley near the forest where fairies and animals roam, the comfort of it's life and the quiet nights to dance under the stars, rivers and pretty rains and meadow fields that shine under the sun.

the features of this place:

The Golden hours: a time where the dawn comes by is the most magical part of the day, grasses shimmer, fairies sing, just when the beautiful sun rises down with it's rays, a moment of pure peace.

The East River: a river that flows with the purest cold water, a perfect place for a gentle way of sinking your feet in, or just to sit by and watch it stream.

The talking animals: the furry friends there can talk! they are local and love to roam the place, sometimes could advise you and are really sweet, leading you to the right path if you are ever lost.

The Fairies: small little helpers that love to harvest flowers for their homes and uses, they love to talk, and certainly listen well.

The deepest and most comfortable sleep: want to actually sleep so good for once? in here we have sleeping cottages especially for those who don't reside there, but would like a deep sleep.

The local valley market: a market abundant with every nature's best fruits and foods, crafted at it's place and is open whenever you need.

The Memory Field: a field with endless flowers, each picked flower will show you a memory from your DR that you want to see.

The valley's tea party: a garden where we can meet up and have sweets and tea while we chat about our DRs, and who there would like to be the owner of the Valley's tea party?

ZONE TWO : THE NULL

"where future meets itself."

a cyber futuristic place, where technology is at it's prime, here you can do your favorite activities ranging from any sport, or to simply access whatever you want.

the features of this place:

The static room: a room where you can sit and see every part of your journey through a tv and a remote control in your hand.

The athlete instructors: we got cybernetic people here that are especially trained to help you with your desired activity, train here and work out if you like, the neon zaplines and games.

The Gaming Arcade: a full on arcade for people to meet up here, food served and gossips and prizes.

The downtown city streets: the best part during late night food and memory markets here, stroll through the exciting city where locals welcome you with the best food known to land while the vehicles swarm over your head.

Neon therapies: a place where you can talk to your assigned therapist, to pour your heart out for nothing and helped through any trauma or damage you have accidentally brought back from any DR.

The Folder: a place where you save every script of any of your DRs, can be accessed and changed anytime, and don't worry, it is safe and locked by your own password protected by the highest security.

The Cyber Hotels: where your room will be here if you are not a resident in this zone and don't have a house and just want to visit.

Borrow center: You can "borrow" powers and any ideas for you scripts here, it is the best place to get infinite ideas without AI.

ZONE THREE : THE LUMINAL LAGOON

"where the watershore meets the sunny sand."

a sunny and happy lagoon, clear water by the ocean and mermaids to talk with, hibiscuses on the sand where you can pick them up and weave them into a crown, ask the sirens their stories and they'll say so, run in the water and back.

the features of this place:

The water has a mind on it's own: the ocean water is like your friend, it honestly looks like what it is in Moana, y'know? the calm cold foam of the water, never to drown in, it will float you up when you swim, and bonus, you can breathe underwater and see under the sea with the fishes, and another fun fact! ask the oceans questions and it gives you answers.

The Seashell shore: a shore with tons of pretty seashells, you can ask the mermaids there to make you a necklace! they'll do so while telling their tales.

Luminal's Sunset: famous for it's way of the sun setting, the orange hue over the water, the ocean calming, the people in a comfortable haze, and a way to rewind.

The mermaids and mermens and the sirens: creatures of the water, charming people of the ocean, they can lead you to play underwater, they can help around, and consider the mermaids to be as your own best friend, they love to gossip and braid your hair, while the sirens love to come up at night.

The night Bonfires: every once a week we will hold a safe bonfire in the beach and invite everyone, having a good time and of course, each of their dances, a place to reconnect with the shifters.

Palm-shaded hammocks: need to sleep cozily? or just need somewhere to sit and watch the beach? these hammocks in the palm trees are your best friends, coconut juice topped with pink umbrellas, seagulls flying, enjoy and lay back.

The boats: want a row? we have boats and cruise ships there for parties on the ocean, safe and calm every once a while.

Late night stargazing: lay back in the sand when the night comes and watch the stars and galaxies while we can talk and help each other through our lives, tell each other who we really are and what we really do.

ZONE FOUR : THE SKYFALL ISLANDS.

"where the rocks float in the sky."

a cozy place where islands are on the clouds, streams and water fall from there to the ocean in the Luminal Lagoon, you have birds and flying friends there, a place where Sakura flowers waft every day there, gently falling over by the soft wind.

the features of this place:

The April Lane: a lane full of the cherry blossom trees and it's petals flowing, each cherry blossom has it's meaning and their words are written on their tree bark for you to read.

The hot air balloons: if you're worried how to go up and get down, there are hot air balloons to do so! simply step in and step out whenever and it'll automatically get you there.

automatic Lesser Gravitation: you'll glide instead of jump to get to other islands easily, no need to fear falling!

Weather controllers: tap the clouds for rain and snow whenever needed! it is something you can easily do so, just jump on it, you can also travel on the skies with the fluffy edible clouds. (EDIBLE- YOU HEARD?)

The Nimbus spa: best self care in the whole shifters neighborhood, need something to relax back? let yourself be treated for once.

Cloud parties: parties on cloud! where sweets and games like tag and anything close can be played there.

Tea shops and japanese-inspired stores: want a feeling of bliss and happiness? go through here and walk the quiet stores, locals waving cheerily at you and their crafts to amaze you, this is the best market for self crafts and furniture or anything remotely close for your cozy home.

The Cloud-Whisperer: a cloud child which once you pay him a slice of strawberry shortcake, he'll tell you how each person from your desired reality currently feels about you.

ZONE FIVE : THE CORNER

"where chipped statues lay."

a comfort zone where the high minds lay, libraries and coffee shops, central schools of shifting and so much more, great minds here can study, write their DR scripts comfortably and use their minds to study quantum physics.

The ARS: best at their subject of shifting in this learning academy, called the ARS, which is short for the Academy of Reality Shifters, a place where your curious mind can rest and learn at the hands of the best professors and teachers.

Inkwell Coffee shop and endless study places: need somewhere to sit back really? the coffee shops are all quiet, comforting and all there is here is a gentle sound of pitter pattering of rain or something else, you can study for your CR exams here, even your DR exams, or just grab a book from the library and study.

The Endless Library: a spiral library on the street, where every book imaginable on anything is possible, find more realities, you can ask the librarian (anyone who volunteers) there to give you a book based on any word you choose, the books never rip, never tear, and is always in mint condition and can't ever be lost.

Cat corners: a corner where you can literally talk to cats- because why not? pet them, watch them roam the street with you, and they'll show you secrets of this place.

Haunted Lane: a special lane for the haunted people, vampires, and "monsters" alike who are not really monster, but old souls bound here to teach and help around, (no the vamps won't drink your blood dw-)

Late night stroll through the quiet roads: need peace and quiet? this place is the best for thinkers, whenever you want, the place can heighten your intelligence and memory.

The Seer: a wise old woman, ask her anything and she shall give you your answer you need, any question can be answered by her in her large old house.

The DR mirrors: need to see your DR now and what is happening in it? peer through those mirrors that are everywhere in the cafes.

ZONE ZERO : THE SHIFTERS MAIN

the place where everyone meets! has a train there that can take you to your desired reality, fairs and night parties are held there, talks and everything is in here.

so the zones are done! now here comes the rules with it (applies to first person and the person enrolled in this place):

No Homophobia

No Transphobia

No Racism

No Ableism

No Xenophobia

No Fatphobia / Body Shaming

No Sexism / Misogyny

No Ageism

No Classism

No Religious Discrimination

Trauma-aware space — no unsolicited triggering content

No hate speech, slurs, or microaggressions

Respect others’ pronouns and identities

You don’t have to share or explain your experiences

It’s okay to lurk, rest, or just vibe silently

All realities are valid — no reality policing

No “real shifter” gatekeeping

Shifting methods are personal — no judgment

No pressuring others to shift a certain way

Celebrate each other’s progress, even the small wins

No one in this space has bad intentions toward me or anyone else.

Only beings with safe, kind, or neutral energy can exist here.

This space is protected from negative entities, thoughts, and energies.

No one can manipulate, influence, or harm others here in any way.

Everyone here respects each other's energy, boundaries, and privacy.

There is no jealousy, envy, or comparison between shifters.

There is no time pressure — we all shift in our own rhythm.

This space is immune to intrusive thoughts or limiting beliefs.

Any harmful intent dissolves before entering this space.

No one can access this space unless they are aligned with peace, safety, and love.

Everyone here operates from consent, respect, and compassion.

I am always in full control of my presence here and can leave at any time.

This space is energetically clean, balanced, and constantly self-cleansing.

There is no judgment, only understanding and support.

This room exists outside of fear, doubt, and harm.

Time moves in a way that supports rest, healing, and clarity.

Everyone here is conscious of their energy and keeps it peaceful.

No one can read my mind, shift my energy, or access my DRs unless I allow it.

The waiting room adapts to my needs and comfort automatically.

I am always protected, grounded, and loved here.

No one can physically harm or touch me without consent.

I cannot be injured, weakened, or made sick in this space.

There are no physical discomforts — the temperature, lighting, and atmosphere adjust to my needs.

This space is immune to illness, fatigue, and pain.

No weapons or violent tools are permitted in this space.

My body is always well, safe, and comfortable here.

Gravity, air, sound, and all physical laws operate in a way that supports my peace.

The environment cannot collapse, change unexpectedly, or glitch in a way that harms me.

I cannot be restrained, trapped, or followed against my will.

No one can read my mind, thoughts, or memories unless I allow it.

Intrusive thoughts dissolve before entering this space.

I am protected from gaslighting, manipulation, or influence of any kind.

My mental clarity is heightened here — I feel focused and calm.

I do not absorb the emotions, energies, or traumas of others.

This space blocks all fear-based programming, negativity, and self-doubt.

There is no judgment or shaming of thoughts, feelings, or experiences.

I am allowed to rest, cry, laugh, breathe — all emotional states are welcome and held.

My personal boundaries are understood intuitively and always honored.

No low-frequency or parasitic entities can enter.

I am surrounded by protective energy that cannot be breached.

Only energies that match my frequency or higher can connect with me.

My aura is shielded, cleansed, and intact at all times.

Cord-cutting happens naturally — I release all energy that isn’t mine.

The room itself is conscious, kind, and devoted to peace.

I cannot be cursed, hexed, or psychically attacked from this space.

Any lingering energy that is not mine is transmuted into light before reaching me.

This space enhances my intuition, clarity, and spiritual alignment.

The air is fresh and exactly the way I like it.

The lighting is soft, adjustable, and never harsh.

Sound levels are peaceful — no loud or jarring noises exist.

There are infinite safe spots: cozy corners, nature rooms, healing pods, etc.

I can summon objects or elements that bring me comfort instantly.

No one can enter my personal space bubble unless I invite them.

The energy of the room naturally heals and calms all who enter.

My body is always safe, comfortable, and free from pain or tension here.

No unwanted sensations, dysphoria, or discomfort exist in this space.

I can adjust my bodily form at will — appearance, gender, energy, etc.

I feel deeply safe in my body and with my body here.

There are no bodily triggers or trauma responses in this space.

My bodily boundaries are felt and honored even without words.

This space is perfectly clean, sterile, and self-cleansing at all times.

All surfaces, air, and materials are free from bacteria, viruses, or harmful substances.

No one carries germs, dirt, or illness into this space.

My body and clothes are always clean, fresh, and comfortable here.

There is no body odor, sweat, or discomfort unless I consciously allow it.

I always feel fresh and hygienically cared for, no matter what.

The environment adapts to my hygiene needs automatically — showers, fresh clothes, oral care, etc. appear when needed.

Cleanliness in this space feels effortless and natural.

There are no unclean sensations, textures, or smells unless I create them.

Waste is nonexistent or instantly disposed of in a safe, invisible way.

I cannot get sick, injured, or fatigued in this space.

My body is at peak health and vitality here.

Any past illness, injury, or imbalance is gently healed while I rest in this space.

My organs, systems, and cells function perfectly and effortlessly.

My immune system is always strong and effective in this space.

There are no allergens, toxins, or pollutants present here.

The air is always clean, fresh, and oxygen-rich.

My skin, hair, teeth, and nails are always healthy and well-cared for.

My body is free from inflammation, bloating, or hormonal imbalances here.

I feel nourished, hydrated, and whole at all times.

All food I eat here supports my ideal health, body, and energy.

Food digests effortlessly and never causes discomfort.

I am always nourished, energized, and satisfied after eating.

My body knows exactly what it needs and I am guided to it intuitively.

There is no guilt, shame, or restriction tied to food here.

My relationship with food is peaceful, intuitive, and joyful.

I can eat freely without gaining or losing weight unless I want to.

Any food I imagine or desire instantly appears, perfectly made.

Meals can appear solo, shared, or ceremonial — whatever suits the moment.

Food can be experienced as visual-only, taste-only, or fully immersive, depending on preference.

There are no loud chewing noises or sensory discomforts unless desired.

There is no pressure to eat socially or explain food choices.

The environment always adapts to my cravings or dietary preferences (vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free, etc.).

Tea, drinks, and cozy snacks appear when emotionally needed.

Only beings with kind, neutral, or aligned intentions can exist here.

Everyone in this space comes with the intention of peace, healing, or rest.

No one is allowed to bring fear, anger, or harm into this space.

Everyone here is self-aware, grounded, and respectful of all others.

No one will attempt to control, influence, or manipulate me or others.

Each person is energetically clean, non-invasive, and in their own lane.

No one can lie, trick, or deceive in this space — only truth can exist.

Every person or being respects boundaries automatically, even unspoken ones.

Everyone here honors consent as a sacred rule.

If someone becomes energetically unbalanced, they are gently guided to rest or step out.

Everyone recognizes each other by energetic signature, not appearance — no one can impersonate.

People cannot spy, stalk, or follow others into personal DRs from this space.

Telepathy, if allowed, is consensual and non-invasive.

Money does not exist here — all needs are met instantly and abundantly.

There is no government, system, or ruling body — this space is self-governed through shared energetic respect.

There is no capitalism, no ownership, and no scarcity.

Everything in this space is shared freely, without transaction or obligation.

There is no hierarchy or power imbalance — everyone exists as equals in their own sovereignty.

Time is fluid — there are no clocks, deadlines, or expectations.

There is no pressure to be productive, useful, or impressive.

There is no war, conflict, or politics here.

No media, advertising, or propaganda can enter this space.

There are no systems of control — only alignment, freedom, and peace.

There is no competition — only individual expression and harmony.

No one is “above” or “below” anyone else — all beings are respected as divine.

Laws of the outside world (physics, legal systems, social norms) do not apply here unless consciously invoked.

anything else the shifter decides to add in their mind can already be added automatically.

oh my god my hands-

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dragonridersandhighlords · 3 months ago

Text

Chasing Shadows | P R O L O G U E

Masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Wrenley's first year at Basgiath.

Word Count: 9.6k (I blacked out while writing.. oops lmao)

Series Warnings: smut 18+ MDNI (begins in prologue) , accidental choking, violence, death, swearing, torture

Chapter Specific Warnings: p in v, no mentions of condoms or birth control (wrap it before you tap it), unintentional choking with shadows, use of safe word,

July 15, 632 AU

Conscription Day. The day every 20 year old in Navarre will enter the quadrant of their choosing to assist in the war. Well choosing if you aren’t one of the marked ones.

I've counted down the days until I was here. Not because I was excited at the possibility of death, but because my parents went here. My mom walked the exact path I'm about to. I'm a legacy, and if they think the shimmering swirls up my left arm are going to change that, they are dead wrong.

I follow behind my closest friends, Bodhi Durran and Imogen Cardulo, as we walk towards the entrance to the Riders Quadrant. I watch the people around us. Many stand alone, some whose families have no clue where they are. Others, like us, who have no family left to say goodbye to, not after the executions.

“Ready?” Bodhi asks, looking over to me.

I smile weakly. “Truthfully? No, but do I have a choice?” I look between him and Imogen as we step forward in line.

Imogen sighs loudly, shaking her head. “Nope. None whatsoever." Another step forward. 5 people ahead of us.

"What's the plan for when we get across?" Imogen questions. 4 ahead, another step.

“Find Xaden and Garrick, they’ll work it out.” I promise. Honestly? I don't know if they can figure out anything when it comes to the Riders Quadrant. None of us have seen the likes of Xaden Riorson or Garrick Tavis in exactly a year. Thanks to a long string of letters and a short string of secret ones in the last year, I never had to fully miss Xaden.

3 people ahead.

After the execution of the rebellion leaders, all the children were sent off to be fostered by those considered loyal to the crown. My cousin and I were sent to a distant relative while Xaden, who I had just started dating as the rebellion began, was sent elsewhere with many of the other children. Siblings were separated, friends lost touch. Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi, and I got lucky that our foster's were friends and let us write letters and occasionally got to see each other. I have an entire box full of letters back home that I've read a million times.

“Name?” The scribe before me is giving me the most annoyed look I’ve ever seen. Glancing up, I see Imogen and Bodhi already climbing the stairs to the parapet. A death trap of an entrance to a death trap of a quadrant. “Name?”

“Uh, Wrenley Tavis.” I spit out, signing on the empty line and quickly move to catch up with my friends. We’re silent on the way up. Not a word is spoken between us as we stick close to the wall just as Xaden had urged us to do in the last letter from him.

“Oh man, is she gonna be happy to see you.” Bodhi laughs at the top of the stairs. He gives his name and begins his turn crossing the parapet, practically running across.

Imogen laughs, muttering a “show off” as she steps up, providing her name and then following Bodhi at the same pace.

I cleared the doorway to the small platform and spotted just who Bodhi was talking to. “Garrick!” I resist every instinct in my body to jump into my cousin’s arms. It may have been a year but he is still, without a doubt, the exact same person I sent off to the same sentence.

“Hey Princess.” He offers me a warm smile, using the nickname the boys have always had for me. “Keep your eyes ahead. Don’t look down.” The advice comes in a hushed tone as the other Rider up here asks for my name. I provide it and then Garrick says, “Good luck, Candidate Tavis.” He nods, any sign of the man just happy to see his little cousin is gone. Got it. Strictly business.

I step onto the parapet and repeat exactly what I’ve spent years preparing for. Arms out for balance, heel to toe with a 5 inch gap. Pretend you’re balancing a stack of books on your head. Do. Not. Look. Down. And walk with determination. The faster you’re on, the faster you’re off. The sooner you can be in his arms, I think to myself before I’m off.

Bodhi and Imogen wait just off the foot tall drop for me, the roll-keeper nearby to document who lives. I give her my name, Bodhi and Imogen cheering in my ear at us all making it.

“Cadet Tavis,” The roll-keeper hands me a missive and dismisses us as she says, “I was directed to give this to you upon your arrival.”

Imogen immediately starts to tease me as I unfold the paper to the handwriting I’m all too familiar with.

I’m proud of you Little Bird! Let me show you just how much? Head to the right of the parapet. Up the stairs to the second floor, 5th room on the left. -X

“Oh we’ve definitely lost her.” Bodhi pokes at my cheeks that I’m sure are red.

“I’ll see you at formation.” Tucking the missive into my pocket, I start following the directions. Two flights of stairs, through the door, fifth room on the left. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. My smile only brightens as I stop at the door. Gods, he’s right here.

I reach up and before my knuckles can touch the wood, the swings open and I’m tugged through and pinned to the back of the door. Deep onyx eyes, the specks of gold I have long since memorized, watch me with such longing that I’m sure is mimicked in my own blue orbs.

“Xaden.” I manage to whisper before his lips meet mine.

“A year,” he heaves, pulling from the kiss before taking over my sense again, “is way too fucking long.” There’s a rumble from deep within him at his words that only drags a moan from between my lips as he moves his assault to my jaw and down. “I watched you cross. I’ve never been so terrified and yet so turned on in my life.

“Gods, have I missed you.” I breathe as he locks onto the sweet spot on my neck, the one he knows will drive me wild. A battle of will ignites between us as we rush to strip each other as quickly as possible. Between heated kisses and tripping over our discarded clothes, we manage to get down to our undergarments before we reach the bed.

“I will never get over how gorgeous you are.” I can feel his breathing catching as I reach up to pull my hair from the tie holding it away from my face. I slide across the sheets, beckoning him to follow.

“If you don’t have me seeing stars in the next five min–” I can’t even get my weightless threat out before his lips are back on mine.

“We both know I’ll have you seeing stars in less than two, my love.” He flashes my favorite version of his smile when he pulls away, the one reserved just for me. He runs a teasing finger over my clothed slit. “Which should I use first, Love? My fingers?” The moan he pulls from me is anything but quiet, my whimpers a plea. “My tongue?” He rips my underwear from me, exposing my lower half to his prowling eyes. “Or my cock?” He growls, shifting on the bed to press himself against my soaked core.

“Please.” I have no control over myself. It's just pure need that drives the noises I’m making from me.

“Who am I kidding? I never need to ask, you’re always so needy for the same thing.” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, the truth of his statement is not lost on me. Given a choice, I always reach for the same pleasure only his cock can provide me.

“Please, Xay.” I moan as he grinds into me, the pleasure from his movement cascades over me.

“Anything for you,” he promises, his voice barely over a whisper and then I feel him. All of him, bare and gliding across my folds. “Fuck, Wren. I’ve missed you so much.” He mutters before sliding in all the way into me.

My screams are raw and unrestricted with each of his thrusts, pulling me further towards my release. “Oh gods, Xaden, please…” He doesn’t respond as his speed increases, burying his face into the crook of my neck. I didn’t even notice I had closed my eyes until I opened them and found black tendrils of smoke whispering around the room and up my body. “Xay…” My plea over the strange whisps floating over me comes out as a breathy moan with another snap of his hips.

“You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice, Wren. Come for me.”

I want to, gods do I want to, but the closer those tendrils come to my neck, the weight that settles around my throat, the farther my release feels.

“Xa–” The smoke tightens, cutting his name off in the throat. I open my mouth to release another plea but nothing comes out, darkness creeping in on the edges of my vision. I try to push him back, so he can at least see it but he doesn’t move. I gasp what little air I can as the smoke just barely releases its hold. Before the hold can tighten again I gasp, “Ven–” I blink and Xaden’s on the other side of the room, eyes wide and gasping for air like I had hit him.

“Xay?”

“You should go back to formation.” I watch those tendrils retreat from the bed and towards Xaden before disappearing completely.

“Talk to me, please.” I cautiously move towards him, tugging the blanket off the bed to cover myself.

Xaden’s already taking steps away from me until he’s leaving against the desk. “I lost control. I lost complete control and you had to use–”

“But I’m okay.” I quickly tell him. The pure fear in his eyes tells me it’s not the first time he’s lost control like that. “No marks, see?” Are there marks? I don’t know! It doesn’t hurt so I’m going out on a limb here. “We have the word for a reason, darling.”

I catch his gaze landing on my neck and then back to the floor. “I just need a minute, I’ll see you out there.”

I nod silently and redress, watching as he doesn’t move. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.” I lean up on my toes to kiss him and he turns away. Sighing, I place a kiss on his cheek then move to the door. “I love you, Xaden.” He doesn’t respond as I slip out of the door and sneak back out to the courtyard.

I’m stewing in my thoughts as I sift through the faces of first years, searching for my friends. I’m reaching the last line when I collide with someone. “Shit, I am so sorry.”

“It’s no prob– Wren?” The familiar voice, yet deeper than the last time I heard it, bounces around my mind tugging my gaze over and settling on the familiar face.

Time has been kind to him. In the last six years since I last saw him, Dain Aetos has gone from the boy I ran around outposts with to a man that wouldn’t even dare to do the same foolish activities from our childhood.

“Dain. You’ve grown up.”

“I could say the same about you.” The smile he offers is genuine, until his eyes catch the shimmering relic on my left arm. Now it looks forced, with a tell tale hint of remorse. “Shit, Wren. Did you get punished for your uncle?”

“What?” I feel like the world has started to crumble around me.

“That's a separatist’s child relic.” He says it like it's a dirty phrase and I struggle to reply for only a moment before it's not shock simmering in my chest, but anger.

“Yeah, Dain,” I scoff, watching his eyes as my next words come out. “I watched my dad get executed in Calldyr just like all the others.”

“Your dad joined them?” His matured features shift, the pitying look he had is replaced with one that almost resembles disgust. How could something so simple destroy the friendship we had developed a decade ago?

“He defended our home and lost his life for it!” I try to keep the angry tears that threaten to spill at bay, my hands tightening to fists at my side. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand that, considering it was your father that dragged him to his execution.”

“I didn’t know, Wren.” Just when I think he might show some remorse, knowing that the man who considered my dad his friend was the one to kill him, Dain takes the knife that's been permanently embedded in my heart for the last four years and twists. “But I’m sure there was more to it than–”

“Right.” The words taste bitter. A copy of his father, my dad had said he’d become. Low and behold, Aetos Junior. “I’ll keep this in mind, Aetos. Thanks for showing me who you really are.” I shove past him, my anger threatening to boil over at the thought of this place already tearing my friendships away.

Bodhi’s only a few feet away, his presence pulling me over as I continue to fight with my emotions. I can feel his eyes on me, worry radiating off him, but I shrug him off. “He was an old friend.” These words taste worse on my tongue. “But you know what happens to friends from before.” And what this place will do to you, I say to myself.

The senior wingleader begins calling cadets towards the first three wings. Bodhi is called to Tail Section of Fourth Wing, while Imogen and I are called to Flame Section of the same wing. Xaden smiles at me as I pass him, his finger’s grazing mine as he mutters, “Meet me after curfew.” The simple touch releases all of the tension in my shoulders. I step in line for my squad, Xaden’s squad, and land right next to Dain. This is going to be a long year.

September 632 AU

Perched on the parapet, I watch the stars fill the night sky. Xaden sits beside me, whether he’s actually watching the sky or me is an idea I ignore for this peaceful moment.

Sneaking around with Xaden for the last 3 months has been nothing short of exciting. Although I’m sure many are becoming privy to our dynamic, especially after the few occasions of Xaden’s protective side coming out. I can hold my own during any challenge but there was one that nearly sent Xaden over the edge. During the Gauntlet yesterday? It took Bodhi and Garrick to keep Xaden from rushing to my aid as I slipped from the final incline.

“Were you nervous for Threshing last year?” The words feel like no more than a whisper against the breeze around us.

“For Threshing itself? Not particularly.” His voice showed no inflections, a calmness that surrounded me like a blanket. “What really got me was the thought of not seeing you again. That fear haunted me daily. Still does.” His words hung in the air between us as he turned to straddle the parapet, tugging me closer to him. “Are you scared for tomorrow?”

I hesitate with my answer. “Will you be disappointed if I say yes?”

Xaden’s laughter is like a breath of fresh air, pulling me in for a soft kiss. I know he’s trying to send all of my worries away with the kiss but they still remain, even as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I saw Desa at Presentation,” I murmur, honestly wishing I hadn’t seen the familiar sapphire scales. “When Kaori said this was the first year she’s agreed to bond, I was shocked she didn’t already have a new rider.” Desa, a blue swordtail, was my mother’s dragon. I can still remember the late night rides mom would talk me on, or the early mornings that I would watch them soar off on patrol, before tragedy had struck and both Desa and I lost the most important person in our lives.

“Sgaeyl mentioned that,” Xaden nods along, “Apparently they’re as close as sisters.” He chuckles, the far off look in his eyes a tell tale sign he’s speaking to Sgaeyl right now.

“I’m sure mom is overjoyed that Desa is finally moving on,” I sigh, turning towards the stars again. “I’m honestly just hoping to live tomorrow.”

I can feel Xaden’s fingers intertwined with mine, a seal to the promise he makes me. “If anyone will survive–and bond–it’ll be my strong and insanely smart girlfriend.” It feels like a lifeline in the dark sea of my mind where I’ve been drowning. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Another kiss meets my cheek before I’m pulled to stand and guided off the parapet. Xaden wraps an arm around my shoulders as he leads me towards the dormitories and leaves me with a final kiss before leaving to his room.

October 1 632 AU

I think I’m lost. I’ve been in the dense woods for what feels like hours and the rustling leaves and distant roars of dragons raise the hairs on the back of my neck. Every once in a while, I’d glance up to see a newly bonded pair shoot off to the sky, and just as often, I’d see a rider lose their seat, falling back to the earth.

“If anyone will survive–and bond–it’ll be my strong and insanely smart girlfriend.”

Xaden’s words from last night flit through my mind and I remind myself that I can do this, that I will not die today.

“You surely won’t, Youngling.” The voice, soft and yet commanding, makes me freeze mid step.

“Hello?” I call, feeling the wavering tone as I search the trees around me for the owner of the voice.

“I’ve waited 6 years for you, Wrenley Tavis.” The familiar sapphire scales glint in the sunlight behind me and I turn. I can feel the air halt in my lungs and I instinctively step back from the creature before me, head held low.

“Back away any farther and you risk another dragon choosing to scorch you.” I bring my eyes up to meet the striking gold ones, the piercing gaze, like she bores into my soul. “I do. Now get on,” she orders, her tone leaving zero room for an argument. So why do I provide one?

“We’ll get… we’ll get in trouble. You can’t choose me.” I stutter out.

“Let me worry about that, Youngling. Now climb.”

I take a deep breath. This is crazy, but I listen. I sprint towards her leg and climb my way to the seat before she launches into the air. It takes all of my strength to stay on and not fall the hundreds of feet to my death as she loops and swirls through the air. When the dragon levels out above the citadel, I take in the view of Navarre and smile and the wind whips my hair, tugging strands out.

“That was amazing!” I scream over the wind.

“I never doubted your ability for a second. She would be proud.” I can feel the pride from the dragon alone and I don’t need to ask who ‘she’ is as we land in the training fields and I dismount. “Tell the role-keeper Desathos. If anyone questions you, they will deal with me.”

I can feel all of the eyes on me, whispers growing around me, the closer I get to the desk.

“There’s no way.”

“Kaori said even though she agreed, she probably wouldn’t bond.”

“They’re whispering about you.” I say to Desa, finally pushing my thoughts towards her.

“You needn't try so hard to speak with me and ignore them, Youngling. Focus ahead.” Mom always spoke of how calming it was to have Desa in her head, but actually experiencing it? It's the craziest thing.

My steps feel heavy under the weightful gazes around me. The grass of the field provides quiet steps, and with the hushed voices around me, I can hear my racing heartbeat like it’s being projected.

“Impossible.” Professor Kaori stands in awe as I approach, his gaze flickering from me to Desa.

I meet the gaze of each person standing on the dais and finally land on General Lilith Sorrengail, my moms best friend. There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes as I approach.

“Wrenley Tavis. For the record, please tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.” The poor scribe who acts as roll-keeper this year looks absolutely terrified as those on the dais lean in.

“Desathos.” My throat is shockingly steady compared to the thrumming inside my chest. Am I going to pass out?

“Breathe, Youngling.”

“Your mother’s dragon?” The role-keeper questions, quill trembling in her hand.

“This cannot be allowed!”

“The generations are too close for safety!”

“The Empyrean has already approved the bond.”

What? I turn back to Desa in shock, and then back to the dais where Melgran is looking off into space and General Sorrengail who just has the proudest look in her eyes.

“Enough!” Melgren’s voice booms, silencing everyone in the area. “The Empyrean has already met on this subject, long before it was an issue to us. Cadet Tavis will remain bonded to Desa. Should she go mad, they will meet again.”

I nod to Melgren before retreating back to my dragon’s side. Relief flows over me as I feel a warm rush of air hit me. I look up to Desa watching me as another rush of hair and I turn to see Xaden and Sgaeyl land just a hundred feet from us, Xaden’s eyes locked on mine. We’re both alive and all I want–need– is to be in his arms but General Sorrengail begins speaking before either of us can move.

I can’t hear a word she says as Xaden just watches me from his spot. I bonded my first Threshing. I bonded my mom’s dragon. The words settle over me and the joy sparks in Xaden’s eyes when Desa nudges me forward.

“Five steps forward, Youngling.”

“Dragons, it is our honor as always. Now we celebrate!”

A scream rips through me as heat curls around my left shoulder, along the top of my relic. I can hear other screams around me but I can’t focus on them.

“I think it pairs well with your existing one.” I tug the neckline of my shirt down, revealing the intricate shape of a dragon on my collarbone, the tail blending into the swirls of my relic.

“Wow…”

“A perfect blend of the two halves of your life.” I can’t think more on what she means because I am lifted up by two arms appearing from behind and am immediately spun around.

“You did it!” Xaden’s voice is like music to my ears. “And they let you have Desa? Eden must be smiling down on you.”

Seeing General Sorrengail’s pride was like hearing of my mother’s pride from someone else, but hearing Xaden say it? The boy my mom swore was going to be the one as Fen Riorson said when he learned of our relationship, it's like my mom is saying it. A bright smile spreads across my face, and before I know it, Xaden is closing the space between us and meeting my lips in a passionate kiss.

“Xaden! People can see us!” It’s nothing more than a breathless whisper between us as I pull back.

“I don’t care what others say, do you?” The confidence and affection in his eyes and voice drown out the rest of the world around us. The cheers of those bonded, the devastation of those who didn’t, the loss of friends. Life is so short at Basgiath, and the brightness in Xaden’s eyes? I hope he never loses that spark.

“Let them talk. As long as I get you in the end.” He pulls me into another kiss, the whoops and hollers that are surely coming from our friends sound around us. But amidst all of that, I find solace in his arms. It's almost like I see our future in my mind.

The two of us, side by side, with no worry about what tomorrow could bring us. And with his words, it solidifies that hope in me.

“Always, my life. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.”

End of October 632 AU

The Gathering Hall hummed with energy as the cadets settled down for dinner. Bodhi drops his try beside me and knocks my arm with his. “How’s Xaden liking Cordyn?”

I let out a groan. “I can’t wait until the stupid year is up so I don’t have to send him away for a week a month anymore.” My squadmates laugh at my frustrations, Bodhi, Imogen, and Garrick laugh harder at my next words. “Have I mentioned how much I hate Catriona lately?”

“Only every 5 minutes,” Imogen laughs across from me.

We’re all laughing now until a voice pierces through the air. “Hey Tavis!” My cousin and I both turn at our last name. “Saw Riorson flying in just a few minutes ago.”

I can feel the excitement bubble in me but uncertainty still thrums deep below. “Did he mention coming back early?” I ask, turning to my friends. Their eyes match that deep feeling of uncertainty but my excitement wins out, making me jump from the table and run to the flight field.

“Youngling? Do we have a surprise class this evening?” Desa’s voice rings through as I reach the stairs.

“No, someone said they saw Xaden flying in.” I can’t hide my excitement as I take the stairs two at a time.

“Sgaeyl is still out of reach.” Desa responds and my steps stumble as I reach the grass.

“What?” I instinctively reach for the dagger on my hip as pain shoots out from my left knee.

“You’re too gullible for your own good, Tavis.” The world spins, laughter erupting around me, as I land face first into the ground. I roll onto my back, catching the faces of my attackers. More than one, perfect. I try to lunge at one but an unexpected kick reaches my ribs and I curl into the pain. Trying again to stand, I feel the weight of someone clambering on top of me before pinning my arms to the ground, and then the blows keep coming. Like rain, each one landed in a sequence. A sickening crunch when one hits my nose at the right angle.

“Keep fighting.” Desa calls, and desperation raised in me. Desa did not bond someone who couldn’t hold her own. I pull my right knee up, knocking the body above me off balance enough to shove him off. I rise again but the minute I place my weight on my left knee, white hot pain sends a scream through my lungs–a strong reminder that I’m not just fighting to prove I can, but for my survival because they will kill me.

I will not die today.

I manage to remain upright and palm another of my daggers as I’m circled again. “Your precious section leader isn’t here to protect you.” The words are dipped in malice but I can’t focus on the taunt, can’t cling to the hope Desa’s voice brings, promising that he’s on his way, when there's another pain in my side. I feel the cold metal graze my skin on his exit as my eyes meet the dripping dagger and the blood seeping from my side.

Shit. That’s not good.

“Maybe next time, you’ll rethink your bond.” It's almost a growl that erupts from another of the attackers as a second blade is sent through the same opening, or maybe it's the same one? I can’t tell when everything feels so much darker. A mist sweeping up my vision as I try to hold onto my strength to live.

I feel so… heavy, almost like I’m slipping. Laughter circling me again as I drop to my knees with another sharp pain.

“Wrenley!” I hear my name called but it’s quiet. So quiet.

“Hold on, Youngling.” I feel the grass at my cheek again, starting to embrace the shadow of darkness as a roar rings through the air and I let myself smile as frantic hands reach me, pleads filling the air but the words are lost and I let the dark consume me.

I can hear the voices before I can see the owners. Each string of words weaves to create a blanket of concern and frustrations.

“Why didn’t you keep a better eye on her?” The words cut through my consciousness.

“I was a minute behind her! Desa had already charred them as I climbed the last stair!” That’s definitely Bodhi’s voice, his whisper harsh.

“They wouldn’t have been able to do anything if you had been there!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s the fastest runner at Basgiath!” Bodhi counters. “I can barely keep up with her on a good day!”

“I gave you one job, Bodhi! One!”

“It wasn’t his fault.” I let out with a hoarse groan. Prying my eyes open, I’m blinded by the harsh light in the healer’s quadrant. My vision clears as I process who exactly is in the room. Bodhi is leaning on the footboard of the bed I’m in, concern etched in every inch of his face, Garrick pacing behind him. Imogen is seated to my right, gently stroking my hand.

Onyx eyes meet mine as I look to the left. Pain and worry shine in them, yet they’re filled with the most soothing warmth. “Take it easy, leave. Healers said it's all gonna hurt for a few days.” Xaden stops me as I try to sit up.

“Listen to the Shadow Wielder.” Desa orders as I shift in the uncomfortable bed.

“What happened?” I groan out, meeting the eyes of my friends, but I especially try and fail to avoid Xaden’s.

“Couple of unbondeds attacked you. We got there right after Desa did.” Bodhi answers.

“Xay…”

“I flew back as soon as I got the missive.” The sigh Xaden releases is filled with the weight of unspoken fears, his fingers brushing against my cheek and pushing them behind my ear so gently, like he fears I might break. “You knew I wasn’t supposed to be back for a couple days. Why would you risk it on the word of another rider? Especially an unbonded one?”

“I hate sending you to Cordyn.” I confess in a whisper, turning away from Xaden. As much as I tell Bodhi and Imogen, I’ve never admitted it to Xaden out loud.

“I know, my love.” I catch a cry before it releases at his words, gentle fingers turning my face by my chin so he can look in my eyes. “You almost died.” There’s an unusual tremble in his voice, a silver line along his lashes and I feel all of his pain.

Getting the missive, the one I’m sure Bodhi wrote, judging by how shaken Garrick looks, it must have torn Xaden to shreds.

“Why choose now to attack? Her and Desa have been bonded for 3 weeks now, it would have been better to do it right after Threshing, right?” Garrick finally speaks, his pacing pausing but the terror doesn’t leave his body.

“It’s because Xaden was gone. Because he couldn’t protect me.” I mutter, hoping they didn’t hear me. “

“That's it.” Xaden’s voice is cold, the sudden shift sending a chill down my spine, He storms out of the room, Garrick hot on his heels, leaving me in a whirlwind of confusion and pain.

“While I appreciate the previous agreements made with my father and the aid you had provided, I cannot in good conscience continue the arrangement with Catriona Cordella. I hope we can come to another agreement to make up for our end of the deal that does not allow me to betray those closest to me.”

- Recovered correspondence from Cadet Xaden Riorson to Viscount Tecarus of Krovla

December 632 AU

The chill of the impending Winter crept into the air as I walked with Bodhi and Imogen through the rotunda, our laughter echoing off the stone walls after Bodhi cracked a joke about what happened during flight maneuvers this morning. The buzz of cadets all around us, as we continued our laughter. I catch Xaden watching us from the exterior of the circular hall. I really need to talk to him, Desa started channeling a few weeks ago and weird things have been happening all week.

It’s almost like he can read my mind when he offers me a reassuring smile and a soft nod before mouthing. “Meet me in the courtyard.” I nod back before turning to the conversation between Bodhi and Imogen as we enter the Academic Wing. I don’t hear their conversation as I think over the interaction with Xaden. Did he sense my anxiety? Maybe he just wants to check on me.

“I’m telling you, they didn’t stand a—” Imogen’s voice was cut off by screams pouring out as we opened the door to the Battle Brief.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my heart racing. The scene that greeted us was chaotic; a first-year student was screaming, hands clamped tightly over his ears, his face twisted in terror.

“He’s an inntinnsic,” murmurs rippled through the crowd. I felt my stomach drop as his eyes met mine, wide with desperation.

“Help me. You understand,” he gasped, his voice warping, changing into a tone that wasn’t his own. “I really need to talk to Xaden. He’ll know what to do.” The urgency in his plea sent shivers down my spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, anguish etched across his features, and for a moment, a different voice echoed from his lips, “Make it stop!”

What? How did he know what I was thinking?

A hand gently touches my back, causing me to jump at the sudden touch before a low whisper reaches my ears.

“Change your thoughts, think of anything else. Something useless,” Xaden urges. The unyielding in his voice grounds me and I fight to divert my mind.

I reach for the memories of dusty outpost libraries, those few years I was away from Aretia growing up. Violet and Dain are beside me, laughing as we translate a random scroll or two.

“Close your eyes,” Xaden directs, someone pushing their way through the gathering crowd pushing Xaden closer to me. “You aren’t gonna want to watch this.” I turn to him confused and a gasp slices through the crowd, drawing silence. I turn back to see the first year motionless, a professor looming over him. How have I met every professor here already? Which one is he?

“That’s Professor Carr,” Garrick says. “He’s the wielding professor.” Had I asked out loud? No. No, I know I hadn’t.

“Holy shit.” There’s a pit in my stomach. Instinctively, I take a step back towards the door but Xaden still stands in my way.

“Wren?” The concern in his voice acts as an anchor, but it’s too late. I’m already drowning. I can’t draw a single breath as panic rises in my chest like a wave ready to crash over me.

“Trust the Shadow Wielder,” Desa urges me.

“I’m an inntinnsic, aren’t I?” I ask her, praying I’m not right.

“The Shadow Wielder can help.”

“They’ll kill me.” I can’t tell if the words are aloud or in my mind but Xaden’s hands grip my shoulders.

“Wrenley, what's wrong?” He’s turning me to face him, a hand coming up to brush the tears I hadn’t even noticed falling. I try to speak, I open my mouth and nothing comes out. “Love, talk to me.” Before I can think, like my body is in overdrive, I pull from his grasp and run out the doors.

I’m barrelling through every door until the fresh air from the courtyard rushes through my lungs. My hands reach for something to grip onto as I try to steady my racing heart.

“Wren?”

Dain. Fuck he’ll tell his dad if he finds out what I am.

“I’m–” I gasp. “Just go to class, Dain.” The words are rough as I lean farther into the wall.

“Shit, who told you?” I lift my gaze to meet him, all of my worry shifting to confusion as I see the pain in his eyes. “I was just coming to get you, Violet was asking for you.”

“What happened to Vi?” It’s like an alarm goes off when he mentions Violet. Our parents were assigned to the same outpost when Dain and I were nine and Vi was 8. I learned pretty quickly that Violet was a fragile thing after we fell out of a tree. My heart is still uncontrollable.

“Focus on calming your heart, Youngling, before you lose control,” Desa’s voice is softer than I’ve known it. I can feel how worried she is through the bond. Fuck, I’m really losing it.

“She’s fine. Well, physically at least.”

“Spit it out, Aetos!” I snap, my patience fraying along with my control.

“It’s Asher, Wren,” Dain finally confesses and my heart sinks. “He collapsed in the Archives a few days ago. I turn on my heel and run towards the main college. “She’s in her room!” I hear Dain call from behind me and I barely hear it over the echo of my footsteps meeting the stone of the bridge. I’ve only been to this part of Basgiath once after her parents took positions here, and yet I blindly follow the path to her room.

I take a deep breath before knocking and pushing the door open. It's silent besides the shuddering breaths of the girl curled into a ball on her bed.

“Vi?” I call softly, pushing the door shut behind me as I walk towards her. My heart ached at the sight of this tiny girl, swimming among the blankets.

“Wrenley?” I can’t wait a second more, climbing onto the bed and holding her close as a sob rips through her fragile frame. “He’s gone.” She sobs and the words reach me like a dagger. I held her tighter, wishing I could take her pain, and block anything else that could come for her.

“When’s the last time you slept, Vi?” She doesn’t respond, but the way she’s barely holding herself up in my hold speaks volumes; it hasn’t been in the last few days. “How do I help her? Can I help her?” I plead with Desa.

“You can barely keep your thoughts to yourself,” her reply is dry, a reminder of my own emotional chaos.

“Can I help her or not?” I snap, frustration coursing through me.

“Mentally imagine a door, that you’re opening it and stepping into her mind. Just think soothing thoughts, ones that could help her fall asleep. It’s how she did it on you.”

“My mom was an inntinnsic?” That's not possible. My mom was such a rule follower.

“Focus, Youngling.”

I focus every fiber of my being into the task. The door, old wood with intricate carvings, like what the old tomes were written in. Opening the door, I step through to Violet’s mind and I focus on the soothing thought Desa mentioned.

Nights of reading fairy tales by moonlight, Asher and my father acting out the stories with shadows on the wall. Then I think about Violet, wishing for her to remember the simple times with those stories that always put us to sleep, running my fingers through her brown and silver tipped hair. Her breathing starts to slow, a soft rise and fall as I watch her tense muscles loosen.

“Very good, Youngling. Now imagine yourself leaving her mind, like backing out of the door and closing and locking it.” I follow Desa’s instructions and feel the connection between Violet and I getting farther away. “This is also how you can keep yourself from accidentally entering someone else’s.”

A light smile tugs at the corner of my lips at the success.

“Vi? Wren?” The door swings open, Dain frantically coming through the door. I quickly shush him, pointing to the sleeping girl in my lap. “How’d you do that so fast?”

“She just fell asleep. Must still like me more than you.” I laugh softly as Dain positions himself on the floor by the bed.

“Are you okay?” He asks me, his gaze watching me closely.

“I will be.” I answer simply, giving my old friend a soft smile as Desa’s voice rings through my mind again.

“We begin training tomorrow.”

January 633 AU

“Come on, Bodhi!” The crowd of cadets cheered as we watched the challenge. They just started back up this week and it's been fairly entertaining. Bodhi’s grin is infectious, completely in his element as he pins his opponent.

“Kick his ass!”

“He yields!” Professor Emetterio’s voice cuts through the excitement and Bodhi hops off his opponent, offering a hand to help him up. The cadet brushes him off, limping over to his squad. Bodhi saunters over to us, popping a high five to my raised hand as he stops beside me, turning back to the mat, pride radiating off him.

He’s the best fighter in our year and I’m not far off. I may leave the mat as injured as my opponent but at least I leave victorious as Bodhi and Garrick like to say. Xaden has been trying to teach better evasive maneuvers but while I’m quick on my feet, everyone has been significantly larger than me.

“Next we have…” Emettario scans his notes, drawing out the anticipation. “Sebastian Orbeck and Wrenley Tavis.”

Speaking of larger than me.

“Isn’t that the guy that's been threatening you for the last week?” Imogen asks, eyes glancing at me wearily.

“I’m so dead.” I’m five foot six on a good day, Sebastian? He’s as tall as Xaden, if not taller if that was possible, and arms the size of my fucking head. I will not die today.

“Begin,” Emettario calls as we both step onto the mat. I brandish one of my blades as Sebastian circles me, two blades of his own drawn.

“Finally, my chance to take you out, Tavis. I’ve been waiting all year.” His smile brings the hairs on the back of my neck to attention, and I reach to pull a second blade.

“You'll have to fight for that,” I shoot back, voice way steadier than I feel on the inside.

“Oh, I will.” He says with a growl before charging at me, the ground thudding with his weight. I use one of the moves Xaden taught me and tuck into a roll to dodge him. Landing on my feet, I turn to face him and lean back just out of reach of the blade Sebastian swings at me.

“Uh, that’s the best you can do?” I ask, laughing to mask the anxiety flowing through my veins. The murmurs around us fade as I focus on the threat.

“Don’t piss him off, Wren,” a stern voice calls out, worry an underlying tone.

In an instant, Sebastian charges again and I reach for the door of his mind, forcing him to shift his blade to the side, but not enough when I hiss at the sting of the blade breaking skin.

“Your aim is shit,” I taunt, flipping one of my blades in my hand as I take a step back. I can feel Xaden’s annoyed sigh at my taunting but I can't focus on him right now. Another swing of his blade, and I jump back from the blade. “Can’t you try harder than that?” I start backing along the edge of the mat, trying to create some distance when my foot snags on something and I land on my back with a thud, air completely knocked from my lungs.

Before I can force any air into my lungs, Sebastian is on top of me and his hand at my throat, but he’s not squeezing. Why can I still not breathe? My wide eyes snape to Xaden who is fighting every urge to step in. Then it dawns on me:

Sebastian is an Air Wielder. He’s using his signet to suffocate me!

“Come on, Signetless. Die quickly so this can all end,” he hisses, breath chilling along my skin. I manage to turn towards Xaden, using what little energy I have left to reach for his door. The pressure on my chest increases as I gasp for any air but none comes and my vision starts to blur as I throw open the mental door. I’m risking everything by doing this to Xaden, but I’d rather live to have him lecture me than die and have him burn my things for Malek.

I launch myself into his subconscious and scream. “Stop him.” Xaden freezes, eyes widening in alarm.

“Wren?” What? No! He should be moving! This isn’t right!

“Now!” I scream again, before my vision fully blurs and I’m yanked from his mind.

“He’s using his signet!” I hear Xaden shout but the blurriness is turning to darkness and I can feel the last of me slipping.

“Youngling?” Desa’s voice comes through as a whisper and try as I might, I can’t reach out to her.

“She fucking yields!” Xaden shouts again.

I hear Emettario’s voice next and then a rush of air fills my lungs, Sebastian no longer above me. I cough, trying to force more air into my lungs as Xaden appears in front of me.

“Are you okay?” He asks, searching me for any signs of bruising around my neck. I nod, coughing more as Xaden turns back to sebastian.

“You’re going to fucking pay, Orbeck.” Xaden’s anger draws him to action and Xaden’s holding a blade to Sebastian’s throat.

Bodhi and Imogen are at my side, pulling me up from the mat as I finally manage a dep breath. Garrick is on Xaden trying to pull him off.

“You know signets aren’t allowed during challenges!” He shouted, putting more weight behind the blade.

“Xaden,” I call, reaching through his door again. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” He growls out loud, focused solely on Sebastian. Dammit, he’s going to get me caught.

“If you keep answering me out loud, you’re not going to be able to protect me. Now let him go.” With a reluctant huff, Xaden backs the blade away and stands but not before slamming Sebastian’s head into the ground, knocking him out cold.

Once I felt the soft comfort of my bed, I curled into it immediately. I closed my eyes, hoping and praying that Xaden wouldn’t bring up the events from the training room.

“Your signet manifested.” Okay, nevermind then. I peek through one open eye, to see the door closed, and with the wards Xaden placed on my room I was essentially safe in here. Unless Xaden decides to turn me in.

“It did.” I say softly, closing the one eye and burying my head in my pillow, fighting off the throbbing headache that usually comes after using my signet.

“How long?” He presses. I know he cares, but god can he please just not– “How long, Wrenley?”

I sigh, sitting up and sliding to the edge of the bed. “Desa said it manifested right before the attack in October. I noticed weird things happening right before the incident with the inntinnsic in Battle Brief. I wanted to talk to you that day but then he died and I– I got scared.” I take a deep breath, trying to read Xaden’s emotions but he’s stone cold. “Speaking in people’s minds? That's new.” I tell him, the relief of someone knowing lifting all of the weight I’d been carrying.

“You’ve been doing it since the beginning,” Desa reports, I can almost feel her shrug. “Everyone is either oblivious to the fact that your mouth didn’t move or it blended in with their own thoughts flawlessly. It was honestly kind of impressive when that happened.”

“Excuse me?”

“What type of inntinnsic are you?” Xaden questions, his hard gaze boring into every hole in my soul. “And answer truthfully, since you’ve been lying to me for weeks.”

I should’ve told him from the get go. I knew this would turn on me eventually. Inntinnsics can’t be trusted, it’s why they’re killed. “At first, it was just being able to slip ideas into minds, make someone move a certain way without knowing it wasn’t them. Desa and I have been practicing late at night, but she’s kinda over being a puppet.”

“Shit,” Xaden finally breathes and I scoff at his reaction.

“Yea shit. I’ve been pretending to be signetless for 2 months. It’s fucking hard when you’re constantly jumping into someone’s head on accident.” The fear of getting caught is festering in my head. “I’m scared Xaden. I’d never hurt anyone, but I don’t want to die because they can’t see the good in my ability.”

“I know, I know.” He paces my room, tendrils of shadows swirling around him as he gets lost in thought. “I just…” He pauses, looking over at me and his eyes soften. He settles beside me on the bed, pulling my hands into his. “I’ll help you practice, and we’ll make sure that you have enough control to keep it hidden.” It's a gentle promise, one his eyes promise back to me. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He whispers, lips pressed to my temple as he pulls me closer.

I lean further into his hold, smiling at the smallest flicker of hope. The small promise of tomorrow. “I know.”

April 633 AU

“Stop sending your shadows to wrap around my ankles. It’s highly distracting,” I call across the open channel between Xaden and I, my voice a blend of annoyance and amusement.

Thanks to the practice Xaden's been giving me, I figured out that if I left a door open we could talk back and forth like we do with our dragon's, and it's been interesting to say the least.

I can feel the smirk that surely makes its way onto Xaden's face behind me just from the words he passes to me. “I could do a few other things with them instead if you prefer?”

His mastery of his signet had evolved into an art form, and I had grown all too aware of the power he wielded. The moments of lost control like my first day at Basgiath long behind us. Now, a stray shadow or two from Xaden's will? Well, I don't entirely hate the surprise.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you tie me up with them later,” I counter, I turn to send him a wink and he chuckles. I could get lost in the carefree look on his face right now, but Professor Devera’s voice pulls my attention.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Cadet Tavis?”

My cheeks flushed as I turned back around. “No ma’am.”

"It would be wise to get your attention forward in my class, wouldn’t want to be sent to the front unprepared." I nod, and Professor Devera returns to her lecture. The classroom shifted its focus back to the front, yet my mind lingered on the shadows now coiling around my knees. As she jotted down notes, I allowed my finger to idly drift through the mist.

Suddenly, I’m no longer looking down at my notebook. The world around me blurs, colors smearing like watercolor paint on canvas, and in the blink of an eye, I find myself in my room and then my notebook returns and I'm back in the classroom.

What was that? The disorientation makes my heart race as I shake it off, forcing my focus back to the notes sprawled before me. Yet, as I try to ground myself, the image crashes back in, but this time, it morphs into something far more sinister—no longer just a fleeting thought but a vivid nightmare looming at the edges of my consciousness.

“What’s little Signetless gonna do? Take on five cadets at once?” The taunting voices cut through the air like a knife. My breath quickens as I whirl around, the laughter ringing hollow and mocking. I see them now, the familiar figures of my peers, their faces twisted with a cruel blend of amusement and malice, surrounding me like a pack of hungry wolves closing in on their prey.

“We can’t let you keep going. Weakest links need to be weeded out.” Their words drip with venom, and my pulse thrums in my ears as I watch them brandish their weapons. My instincts scream at me to flee, but I’m frozen, spinning in a frantic circle, desperately trying to keep my eyes on each one of them. The walls seem to close in, and the air grows thick. I reach for a dagger, the familiar weight of my weapon something I instinctively crave for reassurance, but my sheaths are empty.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it quick, after we have a little fun.”

I’m dragged from the vision by the sound of wood scraping across wood, my heart pounding.

“What was that?” I stammer, reaching for Desa through the bond. All I can feel are the gazes of my classmates, all eyes on me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disdain.

“Your second signet,” she replies, her tone dripping with smugness. “Two rare signets. Perfect for you.”

“What. The. Fuck?” My mind races, grappling with her words while dread coils tight in my stomach.

“Cadet Tavis? Is everything alright?” The voice cuts through the haze of confusion, pulling me from the spiraling thoughts that threaten to consume me. As I look up, the classroom blurs into focus, the eyes of my peers fixed on me with an intensity that feels both invasive and unnerving.

“I’m sorry, can I be excused?” I plead, my voice a fragile whisper laced with urgency as I direct my gaze toward Professor Devera. I can feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck, but there’s a deeper dread clawing at my insides, compelling me to escape this moment.

“Very well.” She brushes me off with a wave of her hand, her attention already drifting back to the lecture that is so far from my mind. I gather my belongings hastily, fingers trembling as they race to shove my things into my bag.

“Wren, what's going on?” Garrick’s voice breaks through from the row behind me, concern etched deeply into his brow. Bodhi and Imogen echo his question, their faces a blend of worry and confusion as I move toward the door. Xaden’s shadows still weave through the air, a comforting presence that tingles against my skin, urging me forward as I reach for the doorknob.

“Make up some bullshit about checking on me. Something’s wrong,” I whisper urgently, barely able to form coherent thoughts as panic constricts my chest.

I manage to cover ten feet before the familiar pull of my vision yanks me back into a disturbing memory. My heart races as scenes flash before my eyes—those cadets, their laughter ringing in my ears, the cruel mockery in their tone as they paint a vivid picture of my helplessness. I see the blade gleaming menacingly, then feel a visceral jolt as it pierces my chest, right over my heart. I scramble back, disoriented, desperate to escape this nightmare.

“Wren– Wrenley, it's me! It's me!” A voice breaks through the chaos, and my vision finally sharpens to reveal Xaden, his expression a mix of fear and urgency. “What’s going on?” His concern feels palpable, wrapping around me like a lifeline, but the words catch in my throat. How do I articulate the horrors I’ve just witnessed?

“Precognition, Wise One,” By the Gods, does Desa just know fucking everything? "I do."

“Can I have 5 minutes where you aren’t in my head?!” I shout, my hand instinctively rising to my pounding temple.

“Wren?” Xaden’s voice softens, pulling me back from the brink of my spiraling thoughts. For a fleeting moment, the world narrows, and I forget he’s here.

“Something’s going to happen to me if we don’t stop it.”

I recounted the events in my vision to Xaden who was quick to formulate a plan. He even enlisted Garrick and Bodhi to roam the halls without exposing my signets.

As the night stretched on, the anxiety of what could be looming before us covered the room in silence. Xaden spent most of the night pacing which did nothing to ease my mind. And near the early hours of morning, when the knob turned on my door, our plan was quickly in action. I turned to face away from the door while Xaden used his signet to hide in the shows as five figures crept into my room. I kept still, waiting for the moment that Xaden stepped in. Then I felt the hand on my ankle and I'm dragged to the edge before I could even scream.

“Did you think you were clever?” Xaden's voice sliced through the air and shadows reach for the throats of the intruders. "It’s unlawful to attack another cadet while they sleep,” he declared, his voice dripping with malice and as quick as a snap, the five cadets were on the ground, lifeless.

Garrick and Bodhi came running in, their expressions both shocked and relieved, eyes bouncing between the bodies, Xaden, and myself.

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Bodhi mutters, shaking off a shiver as he and Garrick begin removing the bodies.

“You okay?” Xaden asks, his entire demeanor shifting from the man I saw kill 5 people, to my Xaden and the way he looks at me? Gods, am I turned on right now?

“And if I said that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done?”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect you.”

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