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https-lvesick · 4 months ago

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CAUGHT ON CAMERA — starring f!reader x na jaemin (ft. jeno and haechan, the perverts)

jeno and haechan know they can always count on their best friend, jaemin, and that's why they borrow his camera for a project. they just didn't expect to get the wrong camera... and enjoy every second of it.

content 𖹭 jaem!big dick, sex tape (size diff, breeding, stomach bulge, fingering, slight nipple sucking, m!oral + cum eating), m!masturbation

notes 𖹭 another big thanks for my baby @sinisxtea for proofreading this!

it wasn't unusual to see na jaemin walking around the campus carrying a camera and photographing everything he found cool. the devoted photography student had an unique artistic view, in his mind, anything could be turned into art. ordinary objects, situations and even some students were his objects of art, but there was only one thing, precious enough to worth his devotion: you. jaemin's object of adoration. he was so committed to you and to show the beauty of every single thing you'd do, he bought a camera exclusively for you.

that camera was special. It could only support videos and photos of you. you could be doing anything. playing with stray cats, eating, painting your nails, putting on some makeup, but his favourite moments were the intimate ones.

jaemin just... he couldn't handle your preciousness. in every aspect, he felt the need, the urge to capture and keep your beauty. especially when you put on a little show just to show him your new lingerie set. or maybe when you were choking with his cock down your throat, your makeup smudged all over your face. fuck... he could list every video that the camera had ever captured.

and knowing how committed, na jaemin, a third-year photography student, was to his major, donghyeok, his roommate, thought he could borrow one of his cameras for a project.

“did you even ask him for it, you dumbass? what if he took his camera with him?” jeno comments, leaning on the door frame, watching his friend search for one of the most valuable items for jaemin.

“wasn't he just driving his girl home? why does he need a camera for that?” the younger cusses, messing with jaemin's drawer.

“sure, but you know how in love he is and how he just keeps anything she does.” jeno rolls his eyes, almost giving up on convincing his friend to find an object he didn't even ask permission to use.

“finally!” donghyeok laid his eyes on something deep in the closet. he takes the camera and closes the doors.

“i still think that's the worst idea you've ever had. what if jaemin sees a picture of you there? especially if it's on the camera that, again, was deep in his closet.” jeno emphasizes his last words, trying to knock some sense into his friend, but knowing he wouldn't listen, he just adds: “at least check to see if it's charged.”

“that's what i'm trying to do...” donghyeok says focused. the two guys were already sitting in the corner of jaemin's bed. he turned the camera on and you are the first thing they saw, wearing a flowy light blue dress. jaemin and you were on a date and you were showing how to make your boyfriend's favourite sandwich. “how can someone be so pretty...” he murmurs, sighing.

“i don't know...” jeno says, letting himself get lost at the sound of your voice and how your beaming smile could lighten up his whole day. honestly, they can get where all of jaemin's adoration comes from. if he had a girlfriend like you, he'd also keep every single moment to himself. then he realized what he was thinking. “but she's our best friend's girlfriend, right? the camera is fully charged, we can see it, then c'mon.” he stands up, but donghyeok immediately pulls him to sit again.

“c'mon jen, we're already here. this might be the camera he dedicated to her. don't you wanna see more of this... damn sculpture? you sure?” the younger lee skips some photos and videos, stopping at a video where you're wearing a bikini. you were laughing with jaemin while taking off your sundress, talking about going to the water. the focus goes all to your ass, while you walk to the water and they can hear jaemin's mischievous laugh along with a perverted comment.

they knew it wasn't cool to desire their best friend's girlfriend, but were they the ones to blame when you looked that pretty? you looked like some fancy masterpiece sculpted by michelangelo in his peak of inspiration. are they the ones to blame when you looked like aprodithe's daughter yourself, being allowed to live among those poor and useless human beings, gifting them your graciousness? you must be the girl of every guy's dream and they're lucky to have a best friend good enough to win a lotto. at least they get to see you often.

as donghyeok passed the videos, the two guys found themselves more and more immersed in you. and jaemin is completely right to be obsessed with you.

“holy fuck...” haechan whispers, licking his lips before biting his lower lip. jeno comes closer, eyes wide open when he notices what's happening on the video.

“come here.” Jaemin's voice is heard and you comply. you crawl to the corner of the bed, where your boyfriend was, and sit still.

you were wearing an expensive lingerie set that was driving not only one, but three men crazy. the bra hugged your breasts so prettily that they wondered if they'd fit that good in their hands.

“nana... your cock...” you let out a whiny plea. almost purring like a cat. your sparkling eyes, begging your boyfriend to stop flauting you to the camera and to let you suck on him.

it's not that hard to deduce that jaemin may have been lowering his pants.

“haechan, enough.” jeno warns, trying to be rational, but yet his eyes were glued on the little screen that was showing you, kitty licking jaemin's tip, teasing him. you were even rubbing his cock between your breasts, slobbering on it.

“fuck it, he's not here to see what we're doing.” donghyeok says in a low voice, holding the camera in one hand, as the other was lowering his shorts.

“haechan, what the fuck!” the older lee exclaims, completely shocked with his friend's attitude.

“jeno, if you don't wanna stay, then leave. and you better don't open that fucking mouth of yours to jaemin.” he spits on his palm, before dragging it along his shaft, lubricating his length. “but you can't deny the obvious.” haechan laughs, looking at jeno’s pants, before turning his full attention to the video.

jaemin's hand was guiding your head, sucking him off as if it was your life goal. you sucked his tip, forcing your tongue on his slit, making your boyfriend cuss, and squeeze lightly his full balls. he's so fucking good at what he's doing, and so are you. shortly after, he's pulling your hair, prying you off of his cock.

“open that pretty mouth of yours, huh?” he asks, jerking off right on your mouth. In a matter of few seconds, you can taste his salty cum on your tongue and you swallow when he spills more on your boobs.

jeno was standing, thinking about this whole situation. he looked at his friend having fun and looks at his own problem, getting more uncomfortable. the way donghyeok looked so satisfied watching whatever was happening on the screen awakened his interest and desire. fuck, she was his best friend's girlfriend, but... she was fucking pretty and when would he get any opportunity like that again?

“this might be harassment or something like that…” he mumbles, retaking his place beside his friend and frees his cock out of his pants. jeno could see haechan's mischievous smile, so he said first: “don't you even get started, you nasty dog.” even with that said, donghyeok didn't seem very offended, after all, who is he to say anything?

by this time you were already laying in bed, your legs spread for jaemin and the camera, consequently, the two perverts watching that. your glistening cunt gushing your juices, while your boyfriend collected every drop of it with his long fingers, teasing your slit.

“how many?” jaemin asks, threatening to insert the tip of two of his fingers, but never doing it.

“three, nana…” you whine, biting your lower lip, watching your boyfriend smile and tease you, the same way you'd do to him. that's until he inserts the three fingers you requested, all at once.

haechan was sure that sweet, languid, moan would linger in his mind forever. jeno, on the other hand, was sure he will never be able to look at his friend and his girlfriend again. he'd rather throw himself off of the window. as soon as he cums.

with each movement of jaemin's fingers, the wet squelching sound could be heard. it made your eyes roll while jeno and haechan make it an opportunity to fasten their own movements. jeno gulps, looking straight at your wet hole, salivating. fuck, he imagines how good it must be to feel you. he's sure you're tight and nice to be inside of. he tighten his grip, forcing his cock on a tighter hole. haechan also salivates, watching how good you take jaemin's fingers. he stops his hand's movements, thrusting his hips up, imagining it was your pussy he was fucking.

jaemin takes his fingers out of you and the boys could suppose what he was doing. he was tasting you on his own fingers. haechan curses, caressing his balls, and closes his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. jeno slows his rhythm, tracing his fingers along his abs.

your boyfriend hovers over you and kisses you. his free hand traces your body, searching for your bra's clasp, undoing it. you discard the piece, feeling jaemin's wet kisses on your skin, and then you feel his plump lips wrapping around your nipple. you shiver feeling your boyfriend's warm tongue, hugging him.

“jaem…” you call, almost like crying, and jaemin smiles against your skin, understanding well your wish. he pulls the mound of flesh between his teeth making you hiss.

“how could i deny you?” he mocks and stands up, taking off his pants. when he resumes his position above you, he rests his cock on your tummy.

and that's when they realize how smaller than jaemin you are.

“no fucking way! this won't fit, no shit.” donghyeok smiled, clearly having fun. “this might be better than some cheap ass porn i've ever watched in my life.” his eyes lighten up with excitement. jeno only nods, lost in pleasure.

jaemin rubs his tip on your slit, forcing himself slowly. “no matter how many times i fuck you... will you ever open enough for me, darling?” he growls, getting even further inside you.

“jaem, it's too big!” you whine, gripping the bed sheets and closing your eyes, arching your back.

for a moment, your boobs shake and donghyeok loves it, almost losing it. he considers replay that part, but maybe another time, when he's alone.

when jaemin is fully inside you and the bulge is perfectly visible, jeno cums with a grunt. haechan laughs, teasing his friend. “good job, jen! hit it that fast?”

“shut the fuck up, lee donghyeok.” jeno grits his teeth. the truth is, jeno has a thing for bulge. it was the first thing he searched for when he was trying to relieve some stress. it was the first thing he thought when getting laid and now... knowing you were so small that a bulge was surely made on your belly made him see stars.

jaemin moves. starts slow, helping you get used to his size, even if you had done it plenty of times before, he was too big for you, no matter how many times when you were fucked by him, but then he picks up his pace. his hand presses the bulge on your stomach for a while, before gripping your thigh. his rhythm is rough, intense, so much that it makes your breasts move at each snap of his hips. and haechan felt like he was in heaven.

your moans starts to get more desperate and high-pitched. you call your boyfriend's name like a mantra while resting one of your hands on his stomach. jaemin doesn't stop, only picking up his pace, getting even rougher. he feels your pussy gripping his cock, identifying your orgasm. your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your mouth remains wide open for a while until you feel it dry, feeling jaemin squirting all of his seed inside of you.

“you fine, love?” he asks, slowing down his pace, only so you can come down off your high. you can just nod.

jaemin finally turns his camera, focusing right where your bodies meet. he thrusts a few more times, before getting out of you. the moment his cum is seen dripping out of you like a cascade is when haechan loses it, cumming with a whiny moan.

jaemin says something else, but the boys could care less, so donghyeok turns off the camera, putting it on the bed. jeno and haechan remain in silence for a moment.

“this might be the best thing my eyes have ever seen.” “that must be the gayest thing i've ever done.” they say at the same time.

“what?” haechan says.

“c'mon, i saw your cock. plus, i had to hear you moan like a whore. i'm getting insane…” jeno stands up angry, covering his dick again.

“oh, right, 'cause you moan like an alpha, huh?” the younger lee also stands up, bringing the camera with him.

“where do you think you're going with this, haechan?” jeno questions, watching his friend walk past him with the camera in hands.

“if you think i'm not enjoying this pretty little thing right here while i can, you're stupid. and you better not to try and jerk off with me. once was enough.” he says, leaving the room and an astonished jeno behind.

poor jeno, little does he know that haechan won't only watch. maybe he can upload some videos too. seeing jaemin's cock was a little price to pay when he was able to see all of you, spread and wet again.

#nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin smut

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c0n-fus3d · 1 month ago

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𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

#arcane x reader #Powder x reader #jinx x reader #arcane league of legends #arcane s2 #ekko arcane #powder arcane

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wordsarelife · 10 months ago

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—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

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godmadeaterribleerror · 5 months ago

Text

No Love Lost Series Masterlist

Read on A03! - Listen to the Playlist!

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, mental health issues, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff.

Series Summary

Three years ago you were normal, the only demons you had to fight were your own, and you the most you knew of Vought and the Boys were what you saw on TV. But then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.

After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.

One month later, the Boys found you.

You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.

And this is what it takes.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being;

1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so.

2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad.

Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask!

Navigation Key

❤️‍🔥 = Smut

🚩 = Additional Warnings

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress 🚩 Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence 🚩 Chapter 8 - I Just Find My Way Back ❤️‍🔥🚩 Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 11 - The Wolves or The Ocean Rocks Chapter 12 - While My Blood's Still Flowing Chapter 13 - The Terror of Knowing Chapter 14 - Choke on Sun Chapter 15 - I Found A Martyr ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 16 - Let It Flood ❤️‍🔥 🚩 Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir Chapter 18 - Something In The Static ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 19 - Don't Look Back 🚩 Chapter 20 - Forget to Fall Down Chapter 21 - Some Things You Just Can't Speak About ❤️‍🔥 🚩 Chapter 22 - I Stayed In The Darkness With You Chapter 23 - Wherever You're Going ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 24 - You'll Never Be Alone ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 25 - All I Know ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 26 - I’ve Loved Everything About You That Hurts ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 27 - Just A Shot Away 🚩 Chapter 28 - Something That I'm Supposed to Be ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 29 - All My Bets On You Chapter 30 - Every Demon Wants His Pound of Flesh 🚩 Chapter 31 - I'd Do It All Again ❤️‍🔥

More Than You Could Ever Know - A No Love Lost Christmas Special

Part 1 - The Boys start Secret Santa, Ben pretends to do his job. ❤️‍🔥 Part 2 - Ben and Ryan go shopping, and you all try to find a tree. Part 3 - 12/24

Bonus Footage (Standalone Chapters)

Dying’s Up to Me - A Prologue. Takes place 6ish months before Chapter 1. 🚩 They're Never Gonna Find You A Home - Request! Everyone adjusts to your life with the Boys. Takes place 5ish months before Chapter 1. 🚩 Back to Here - Request! They get horny at the dining table, and Butcher takes it personally. Takes place in Chapter 14. It's So Simple - You make Ben do icebreakers. He's a little bitch about it. Takes place in Chapter 14. Just Your Time - You give Ben internet lessons. Takes place in Chapter 14. As Much As I Do - Request! Ben finds you dancing, is immediately very normal about it. Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15. Calling Your Name - Ben's first birthday awake isn't great. Takes place in Chapter 19. ❤️‍🔥 I Skip My Pride - You share some music with Ben over text. Takes place in Chapter 22. The Only Place That I Call Home - It's team game night, and everyone is sick of you and Ben's shit. Takes place in Chapter 24. ❤️‍🔥 Can't Help Myself - Request! Ben has a breeding kink, and you're incredibly horny, so it works. Takes place in around Chapter 24 and Chapter 25. ❤️‍🔥 Anywhere Else Is Hollow - A halloween special episode! Takes place in Chapter 25. It Was Smiling Down - A Ryan pov Chapter. Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. A Call To Motion - Request! There's a lot of things you're good at. Sex with Ben is one of them. Takes places in Chapter 28.❤️‍🔥 I Want You Only - You and Ben go shopping. Takes place in Chapter 28 ❤️‍🔥 I’ll Hold Your Hand - Request! You get your period, and Ben has to do his job and take care of that. Takes place post series.

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dxrlingluv · 18 days ago

Text

Trinket Catapult

You stand on the edge of the rusty balcony, the cool breeze from Zaun brushing against your skin, the chaotic sounds of the city below mingling with the distant hum of Piltover above. The sun dips low, casting a warm golden hue over the familiar, yet haunting, skyline that has been both your playground and your prison. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of memories swirling in your mind.

"Y/N! Look what I made!" Powder's voice rings out, bright and unyielding, cutting through your reverie. The sound of metal clinking fills the air as she bounds into view, a whirlwind of energy with her short blue hair tied in space buns bobbing as she runs.

You turn to see her holding a new contraption, a jumble of gears and wires that she's likely spent the last few days tinkering with. "It's a—"

"A trinket launcher?" you guess, a smile breaking through the somber mood.

"Close! It's a—" She pauses dramatically, her violet-blue eyes sparkling. "—a trinket catapult!"

A laugh escapes your lips, the sound almost foreign after so long. "You're going to put someone's eye out with that thing, you know."

"Pffft! Not if I aim it right!" She grins, her excitement infectious.

But as you watch her, a pang of guilt hits you. You remember the last time you felt this light, this carefree. It was with Violet, your childhood sweetheart. The warmth of her laughter, the sweetness of her smile... it all feels like a distant memory now, overshadowed by that tragic day.

"Y/N?" Powder's voice breaks through your thoughts, concern creeping into her tone. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just... thinking." You bite your lip, glancing toward the sunset, the colors swirling like a painting, chaotic yet beautiful. "It's just... everything reminds me of Vi."

You see Powder's smile falter, just for a moment, before she quickly recovers. "I know. But she wouldn't want you to be sad. She'd want you to be happy."

You nod, your heart heavy. "I know, but it's hard, Powder. I don't think I'll ever truly let her go."

"I understand," she murmurs, fidgeting with the trinket catapult. "But that doesn't mean you can't find happiness again. With someone else."

You turn to her, feeling the weight of her gaze. "And what about you? Don't you miss her?"

"Of course," she replies, her voice low, but there's a determination behind her words. "But I'd do anything for you, Y/N. Even if that means pretending to be her."

You blink, taken aback by her honesty. "Pretending to be Violet?"

"Yeah! I mean, you loved her, right? I could be like her, just for you. I'd wear her clothes, do my hair like hers. Anything."

"Powder, that's—"

"Please!" She steps closer, her eyes pleading. "Just give it a try. For me?"

You shake your head, laughter bubbling up again, mixed with disbelief. "You're serious?"

"Absolutely! I'll do what it takes."

A warmth spreads through your chest at her loyalty. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Crazy for you!" she chirps, her laughter echoing in the alleyways.

But deep down, you sense a storm brewing. You know it's not just about pretending; it's about the ghosts of the past that still haunt you, and the love that refuses to fade.

Days turn into weeks, and Powder's resolve grows stronger with each passing moment.

She works tirelessly on her projects, each one more ambitious than the last. "Y/N! Look at this!" she exclaims one evening, presenting a mechanical bird that flaps its wings. "I named it Violet!"

You can't help but smile, but there's a lingering sadness that wraps around your heart. "You're going to confuse me."

"Good! Maybe it'll make you realize I'm right here!"

"Right here, pretending to be my dead girlfriend?"

"Not pretending! Just... giving you a reason to smile."

"Powder, this isn't healthy."

"Neither is moping around over someone who's gone!" she snaps back, her voice sharp but her eyes pleading.

The tension hangs heavy between you, and it's clear that the stakes are rising higher. You want to comfort her, to reach out and tell her it's okay, but the weight of your unresolved feelings keeps you rooted in place.

"Let's go to the old hideout," you suggest suddenly, desperate to change the subject. "The one by the river?"

Powder's eyes light up, a smile breaking across her face. "Yeah, Let's go!"

The two of you make your way through the winding streets of Zaun, the air thick with the scents of machinery and the distant sounds of laughter and music. As you reach the hideout, a small shack perched precariously over the rushing water, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

"Remember the last time we were here?" Powder asks, plopping down on the creaky wooden floor.

You chuckle, recalling the misadventures you had with Vi, Mylo, and Claggor. "How could I forget? We almost got caught by the enforcers!"

"Yeah! And we had to hide in that dumb old barrel." Powder laughs, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Violet was so mad at you for almost blowing up the barrel with your monkey bombs."

"Hey! They were supposed to be safe!" Powder grins, the memories washing over you both like a warm breeze.

But as laughter fades, the silence settles back in, a heavy blanket of unspoken words. You glance at Powder, who's now fidgeting with her hands, the brightness in her expression dimming. "Do you really think it's possible for me to move on?"

"Of course," she replies, her voice soft but firm. "But you have to let go of the past first. You can't keep holding onto something that's gone."

"I know," you whisper, the weight of her words sinking in. "But it's so hard."

"Then let me help you."

"By pretending to be Violet?"

"By being here for you. I care about you, Y/N. I don't want to lose you, too."

The vulnerability in her voice hits hard, and you feel the walls you've built around your heart begin to crack. "You're... really something, you know that?"

She shrugs, a hint of shyness creeping in. "Just trying to be the best friend I can be."

The moment stretches on, the sound of the river rushing below filling the silence. You can feel the tension between you, a pull that's both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Powder..." you start, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, can I... can I try something?"

Your heart races as you meet her gaze, uncertainty swirling in your stomach. "What do you mean?"

"Just... close your eyes. Trust me."

You hesitate, but something in her eyes tells you to comply. You nod, shutting your eyes tight as your heart pounds in your chest.

A moment passes, then you feel her warmth next to you. "Okay, open them!"

You do as instructed, and your breath catches in your throat. Powder has transformed herself, her hair styled to mimic Violet's, her clothes a makeshift version of what you remember. It's uncanny, and for a split second, you see a ghost of the girl you lost.

"Powder..."

"See? I can be her! Just for you!"

But as you gaze into her violet-blue eyes, the reality washes over you. This isn't Violet; it's Powder, your loyal and fierce friend, desperately trying to fill a void that can't be filled.

"It's not the same," you whisper, the truth slicing through the air like a knife.

"I know," she replies, her voice trembling. "But... can't you see how much I care?"

You reach out, brushing hair back from the way it was, the way it perfectly was, your heart aching for her. "I care about you too, Powder, but I'm not ready to let go."

"Then let's do this together," she pleads, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You don't have to do it alone."

The weight of her words settles into your heart, and for the first time, you feel the flicker of hope. "Together?"

"Yeah. I'll be here, no matter what. But you have to promise me that you won't shut me out."

You nod slowly, feeling the warmth of her hand in yours. "I promise."

The resolve between you strengthens as the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. You sit together on the old wooden floor, hand in hand, the ghosts of the past still lingering but no longer suffocating.

"Let's make a new memory, then," you suggest, your voice steadier.

"Like what?" she asks, her eyes brightening.

"Like building something together. Something that isn't a trinket catapult."

Powder laughs, her joy infectious. "I'm in! But only if you help me!"

"Deal."

As you begin to sketch out plans for a new project, you realize that while Violet will always hold a special place in your heart, there's room for new beginnings, new memories, and perhaps, a new kind of love.

And as the stars begin to twinkle overhead, you can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, you're ready to embrace the future with Powder by your side.

Written by : dxrlingluv

#jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx #jinx fanart #jinx and isha #vi and jinx #powder #powder x reader #powder league of legends #vi x reader #violet arcane #violet league of legends #arcane #arcene netflix series #_dxrlingluv

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fullsandwichmiracle · 6 months ago

Text

Pretty screams

Paring: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Joost invited you to the studio and encouraged you to experiment with creating a song. As you worked on it, Joost was inspired and decided he wanted to use your captivating screams for his next project.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cigarettes, smut, oral receiving , PnV, unprotected, no use of Y/N, one shot

Word count: 2,5k+

You had met Joost at a friend's house party, where you had spent most of the evening engaged in deep conversations and playful flirting. Joost, it turned out, was a musician, and by the end of the night, you had exchanged numbers.

A week later, while lounging in your room with a good book, your phone buzzed with a text from Joost.

Hello! Do you remember me?

Hmm. Cute music dude?

Yes!

Since the party, you hadn't spoken and had assumed he had forgotten about you. You hadn't reached out either, not wanting to appear too eager and desperate. Despite the closeness at the party, nothing had transpired between you two.

Are you up to anything?

No, not really, just reading. Why?

Me and the guys are in the studio. Just wondering if you wanted to come over? You can read here.

Sure, why not. Can you send me the address?

When Joost sent the address, you quickly threw on an oversized hoodie over your black silk pajama shorts and top, packed your book and phone into a tote bag, and slipped on your headphones. The night air was cool as you headed out on your bike towards the studio.

I'm outside. How do I get in?

You texted Joost after parking your bike near the building. When he didn’t respond immediately, you lit a cigarette and took a drag, letting the music in your headphones carry you away.

Lost in the music, you closed your eyes. Suddenly, a hand on your shoulder jolted you back, and you let out a scream.

It was Joost, who had apparently been standing there for a while before deciding to interrupt you.

"Pretty scream," he said, laughing. "Wanna come inside?"

"Sorry, I drifted away," you replied with a chuckle. "And yes."

You stubbed out your cigarette and followed him inside.

The studio buzzed with energy, a mix of creative chaos. Joost introduced you to everyone, their faces lighting up with infectious enthusiasm. You settled next to Apson, who was focused on something on his laptop.

"Hey," Apson greeted you with a nod as you took out your book to continue reading.

After a while, Joost approached you with a pair of headphones. "Wanna hear what we're working on?"

You nodded eagerly, putting down the book and slipping them on. The music enveloped you—a fusion of beats, melodies, and harmonies that was both raw and polished. You glanced over at Joost, who watched your reaction intently.

"This is amazing," you said, genuinely impressed as you heard the beginning.

"Thanks," Joost replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "We've been at it for hours."

You nodded along to the beat of the song, enjoying what they had created.

When the song ended, Joost pulled up a stool next to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"It's incredible," you replied. "I had no idea you guys were this talented."

As you took off the headphones and handed them back to Joost, your fingers brushed lightly, sending a subtle shiver up your spine. You both paused, the moment lingering between you.

"Do you wanna try making something?" Joost asked with a soft, inviting smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt a flutter of excitement and eagerly nodded in agreement. Joost guided you over to the mixing board, his hand resting gently on your back. As he explained the basics, his voice became a warm whisper in your ear, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Under his patient guidance, you began to experiment with different sounds. Joost watched you with admiration and something deeper in his gaze. Together, the two of you crafted a simple melody and beat, each note resonating with the shared energy between you.

"That sounds beautiful," Joost murmured, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a thrill through your body.

"Thank you," you whispered back, feeling a blush warm your cheeks under his gaze.

Glancing back, you noticed that the others had quietly slipped away, leaving just the two of you immersed in the music and each other's presence.

Joost's hand found its way to your thigh with a gentle touch, causing a delicious tension to spread through your body. "Seems like someone's hiding a talent," he remarked, giving your thigh a slight squeeze. A soft whimper escaped your lips at the sensation of his touch on your bare skin.

"Thank you," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a breath. The intimacy of his touch and the moment overwhelmed you, drawing you closer to him without hesitation.

Joost's eyes softened as he looked at you, his fingers tracing light circles on your thigh. "You know," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the party."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. "Me too," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion.

Joost's hand moved to gently cup your face, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek. "I can't get you out of my mind," he confessed, his gaze locked on yours with unwavering intensity.

The air around you crackled with anticipation and unspoken desire. Unable to resist any longer, Joost closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss. It started tentatively, a gentle exploration fueled by the electric connection that had been building since the party. As the kiss deepened, passion and longing took over, expressing the unspoken emotions that had drawn you together.

His hands traced your body, slipping under your hoodie. You stood up from your chair and moved onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. You had wanted to kiss him for so long, but now the kiss alone wasn't enough.

Joost's hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. You could feel the heat between you rising, every touch and caress intensifying the moment. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"You have no idea how much I have been thinking about this," Joost murmured against your skin, his breath warm and electrifying.

You arched into him, your desire matching his. “Joost, please" you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

Joost's hands moved with a sense of urgency, exploring your curves and igniting a fire within you. The studio, once filled with music, now echoed with the sounds of your shared passion. Every kiss, every touch, brought you closer, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As his hands found their way back to your face, he paused for a moment, looking deeply into your eyes. "Would you be okay if we continued in the sound booth? You sound like music," he asked, his voice gentle but filled with desire.

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Sure," you responded quickly, not really processing his words and just wanting him to continue.

With that, he captured your lips again, the kiss filled with a mix of tenderness and intensity. He lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around him. You heard the click of a button before he carried you into the sound booth. Inside, there was a couch, a microphone, a piano, and a sign blinking with the word "REC."

Joost placed you down on the couch and adjusted the mic, positioning it right next to you. His hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face to meet his gaze. Towering over you, he looked incredibly sexy with his messy hair, hunger in his eyes, and a mischievous grin. "Say my name, schatje," he grunted, squeezing your chin slightly.

"Joost," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Louder, can you?" he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Beg me to fuck you."

Taken aback by his words but driven by desire, you licked your lips before screaming nearly moaning, "Joost, please fuck me! I need you!"

Joost's eyes darkened with desire as your words filled the booth. He leaned in, capturing your lips with a fierce passion. His hands roamed over your body, every touch igniting a fire within you. You could feel his urgency, his need for you.

He pulled away just long enough to whisper, "That's my girl," before his lips were on yours again, more insistent this time. His hands slid under your hoodie, caressing your skin and making you shiver with anticipation.

Joost's kisses trailed down your neck, and you tilted your head back, giving him full access. His teeth grazed your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. As his hands explored further, you felt him pulling up the hoodie. You lifted your hands, helping him remove it with ease. Once he got it off, he threw it to the ground and paused, locking eyes with you in a gaze filled with intense desire.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I need you."

He trailed kisses along your body as he knelt at the edge of the couch. Your head fell back with a whimper as you felt Joost's hand caressing you through the thin fabric. His hands moved up to your waistline and tugged on your shorts, urging you to lift up so he could slide them off. You complied, lifting yourself slightly as Joost swiftly removed your shorts and underwear in one smooth motion, tossing them aside.

His hand returned quickly, now against your bare skin. His finger traced your wet folds, and he smirked, saying, "So wet and so pretty," before gently pushing in one finger, causing you to whimper, "Ohh, Joost." Only urging him on more.

Joost's touch sent shivers of pleasure through you as his finger explored your slick warmth. He continued to stroke and tease, his movements expert and deliberate. Your breath hitched with each gentle thrust, the sensation building with a delicious ache.

"You sound so pretty," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His thumb found your sensitive bud, circling it slowly while his finger delved deeper, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

You gripped the edge of the couch, your body arching towards him, seeking more of his touch.

"I need you," you gasped, your voice thick with need.

Joost groaned in response, adding another finger to stretch and fill you. Pleasure surged through you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume every thought. His movements grew more urgent, his fingers finding a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart, driving you closer to the edge. Soon, you felt his tongue as he began to taste you, intensifying the sensations swirling through your body.

Your senses were ablaze as Joost's tongue explored you with expert precision, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. He alternates between gentle licks and firm strokes, his touch igniting sparks of ecstasy that danced along your skin.

You gasped and moaned, your fingers grasping at the couch cushions as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Joost's mouth worked fervently, his fingers and tongue coaxing you closer to a peak of pleasure you couldn't resist.

The intensity built like a crescendo, each flick of his tongue pushing you further towards the edge. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body arching towards him, urging him to continue. His movements were relentless, driving you towards a climax that promised to consume you entirely.

Finally, with a shudder and a cry of his name, you shattered into euphoria. Pleasure rippled through you in powerful waves, leaving you trembling and breathless in the aftermath. Joost withdrew his fingers, now slick with your essence, and moved up towards you, again towering over you.

His hand covered your mouth, his fingers teasing your lips until you obediently opened them. He gently pressed his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste your own release. You licked his fingers clean, locking eyes with him as you savored the intimate moment.

"Want me to fuck you?" he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

You nodded eagerly, his fingers still lingering in your mouth.

With a hungry gleam in his eyes, Joost withdrew his fingers from your mouth and swiftly removed his own clothes, while you removed your shirt, leaving both of you naked. The air crackled with anticipation as he moved closer, his desire palpable.

You watched intently as he positioned himself above you, lying down on the couch with your head resting on the armrest, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.

He guided himself inside you, inch by delicious inch, and you gasped his name at the sensation of being filled by him. His movements were slow at first, savoring the connection between you, but soon he picked up pace, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Moans escaped your lips with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his desire matched by your own. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you in rhythm with his thrusts. The couch creaked beneath you, a symphony of passion blending with the quiet hum of the studio around you.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer as you met each thrust with equal fervor. The heat between you grew with every movement.

Your nails dug into his back, eliciting a deep grunt from him. In response, he began to thrust faster and deeper. With each thrust, the intensity grew, your bodies moving in perfect sync. Joost's breath was hot against your ear, mingling with your own ragged breaths.

Your nails left trails down his back, the slight sting only fueling his desire. His movements became more urgent, driven by the raw connection between you. You clung to him, your body arching to meet his, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through you.

"Sound so… pretty," Joost murmured against your skin, his voice filled with pure desire. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, the intensity of the moment making your heart race even faster.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in each other. The crescendo built again, the pressure mounting until you were both teetering on the edge of release. With a final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge, your cries and screams of pleasure mingling as you found your release together, you felt his warm release fill you up as he thrusted into you one last time. Joost collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged against your skin as he held you close.

You lay entwined, catching your breath in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The studio, once a place of creativity and music, now bore witness to the raw, unbridled connection you had shared.

“You have a really pretty scream,” Joost murmured into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He slowly got up and extended a hand to help you. Gathering your scattered clothes, he placed them beside you with a tender smile. Leaning in, he kissed your forehead before asking, "Do you want some water or anything, schatje?" as he began to put on his underwear.

You nodded, still feeling the lingering warmth of his kiss on your forehead. "Water would be great," you replied, your voice soft and content still breathy as you tried to catch your breath.

Joost smiled and walked over to a small fridge outside of the booth, retrieving a bottle of water. He handed it to you, his eyes lingering on your face with a mix of affection and desire. You took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your dry throat.

As you both dressed, the air between you remained charged with the intimacy you had just shared. Joost's touch was gentle as he helped you with your clothes, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Once you were both fully dressed, Joost pulled you into a warm embrace. "That was incredible," he whispered into your hair. "I’ve been thinking about you since the party, but this... this was more than I ever imagined."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "It was amazing," you agreed.

Joost's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "I'm glad you came tonight," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet studio. "Me too," you agreed, leaning in to kiss him once more.

Breaking the kiss, Joost stepped out of the booth and pressed a button to stop the recording. He downloaded the file, erasing it from the computer, and held up a USB drive. "You okay if I use this in a song?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smiled, feeling a surge of warmth. "Sure, but I don't want to be credited," you replied with a chuckle, leaning your head on his shoulder, knowing he thought you sounded beautiful.

You packed up all your things and headed out of the studio hand in hand with Joost. As you walked out into the night, the cool air felt refreshing against your flushed skin.

#joost fanfic #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein imagine #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joost smut #joost x reader

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sweetimpurity · 8 months ago

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I Think I'll Keep You 3

Notes: Thank you for your patience and your kindness! I've been finishing school and I'm graduating next week so I'm BUSY! But I love you guys and I hope you enjoy! I recommend rereading the last section of Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 next chapter>>

w.c. 8k. rated p for plot

Miguel storms back to his dorm, across campus, clutching his jacket around his bare torso. Feeling like an absolute idiot for losing his cool. Losing control. What is it about you that makes him act this way?

It’s like you’re trying to knock down the walls he’s built around himself all his life. Running to his building as rain starts to sprinkle, he makes it to the lobby, rushing around, pacing in the elevator getting up to his floor, his mind on total lockdown. As the doors open, he steps out, eyes widening, heart thumping, instantly seeing Peter and a few other teammates down the hall walking his way. Before another thought crosses his mind and before they can spot him, he steps back into the elevator as the doors are closing, slamming on the buttons for the lobby. His heart beating out of his chest.

It’s starting to pour by the time he gets back downstairs, racing out before anyone he knows will see him. He’s sure they’ll get a bloody nose if anyone tries talking to him now. He keeps his head down, pushing through the doors outside and walking in the freezing rain, running at a certain point, crossing the courtyard and running to the other side of campus towards the athletic building. His Nikes splash in shallow puddles along the uneven parking lot, his dark eyes squinting as rain pelts down from above. His long legs bring him closer to the doors, closer to sanctuary, out of the freezing rain. Soaking his jacket, his hair, dripping down the bridge of his nose, fluttering in his eyelashes.

He pushes through the doors, sighing audibly in a mixture of relief and annoyance and realizing how fast he was running. He pushes through the next set of doors, walking down the dark hallways of the building. Sneakers squeaking softly on the linoleum as he reaches the team's locker room door. Rain drips down from the curls that flopped onto his forehead and down the nape of his neck. Droplets glistening off his cheeks and his nose as he flicks on one of the locker room lights. He has no idea why he came here. Maybe it’s just the only place no one else is.

He runs a hand through his hair, slicking it back from the cold rain, a few stray hairs springing out around his face. His mind flashes with images of you. Your smile, the pink tint of your lips, the peachy soft roundness of your cheek. His breath is heavy and his cheeks flushed from the cold. He gets to his locker, figuring maybe he should just… just do anything… 27… his fingers slip over the lock as rain drips from his curls… he could run around the field until he passes out…15… the color of your eyes… he could work on those drills he just gave the team the other day…10… the joint of your hip… the team does have a big game coming up this weekend… the lock won’t unlock… 27… the crook of your neck… he could go back to his dorm and work on that grant proposal he’s been needing to start…15…he could go to the lab and keep working on his thesis project… your gasping whispers of his name… 10… he could go to you right this second and tell you he’s sorry… 27… maybe that would make things better…15… the sound of your whimpers… the pitch of your moans… he could kick a ball around until it fucking pops… holding you close as you come down… 10!!... kissing you as you’re trembling… Why won’t the lock unlock? “Fucking unlock!!” He bellows and tugs on the lock in anger. His anger is blinding, numbing, controlling… his fist slams into the front of his locker. The bang of impact ringing throughout the empty locker room.

Instant pain shoots up his arm but he doesn’t care. He hits the locker again… and then again… and a few more times until the pain is too much to bear. Bang. Bang. BANG! Until his knuckles are worn raw. Punching, beating, denting the big “C” painted on the front of his locker. Captain. Leader. But he feels like a fucking loser. Punch, punch, PUNCH! Until he can’t anymore. “Ah… fuck!” He grunts and clutches his hand. Knuckles busted and fingers tingling hot and numb. “Fuck fuck ah… ngh…” He winces and groans in pain. “Shit…” He sighs and slumps his shoulder against the lockers. His hand throbbing and searing, clutching his hand to his chest in pain. His head rests against his locker, and he can feel the dents from the punches against his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut in pain and trying to stop the tears. Clutching his right hand and beating himself up in his head for being such a baby… for freaking out… for having feelings like this. Even when he’s alone, he won’t let himself cry over this.

“Ah…” He winces, looking down at his hand, trying to move his fingers but the instant swelling makes it practically impossible. Hissing softly at the pressure and pain between his knuckles.

Maybe this was necessary. Maybe this was the only way he’d slow the fuck down for one second to get his head on straight. He’s standing there and going over the events of tonight in his head. All that shit with Dana… then seeing you, kissing you, touching you… leaving because he couldn’t bear to listen to what you were saying. It was too much. It was too real. And the kind of conversation he actively tries to avoid. He can hardly remember what you said, it all feels like a blur right now. He can’t even remember what he said right now either. Probably some douchey stuff. “Ow, fuck…” He sighs and winces, holding his hand close to his chest.

He sits in silence only when he catches his breath enough to suppress the sounds of pure agonizing pain. He feels embarrassed. He thinks you probably hate him now too. You must. How could you not after the shitty things he said. Sighing, he sits down on the bench in the middle of the locker room. His hair still dripping down the back of his neck uncomfortably.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He thinks to himself. Watching the purple bloom over his fingers and feeling the searing hot pain.

Why did I just do that? Freak out. Is it because he knew what you were about to say? That you… you might be in love with him? After all the needy nights, the sneaky meetups and the lazy mornings, why is he so afraid? He can’t help but think of one specific morning... a week before you'd left… after a long night entangled in the sheets.

“You’re so warm…” You had said. Wrapped in his arms after sleeping beside him all night long. Naked and soft in his thick arms. His chest pressed against your back, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He smiled softly to himself, wrapping his arms a little tighter around you. He wanted you to feel warm. He wanted to be the one to warm you.

“You’re so soft…” He hummed into your neck. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled, feeling so wanted, so safe and secure. No one had ever made you feel this way. And Miguel just kept doing it. When you were in his bed, he was always holding you. Always touching you. The sex was usually rough and desperate, and that was good… that was… incredible. But there was something about seeing him like this. Soft and quiet with all his attention on you. You were just dreaming of the day that these hookups would turn into something more. Trying to be patient but feeling like it would happen very soon.

“That tickles…” You whispered, squirming in his grasp as his breath and his lips tickled your neck. “Shhh…” He shushed you ever so softly, encasing you tighter in his arms and grazing his lips all around your neck and your shoulder. Knowing it’s tickling you, that it’s making you squirm. “Hah…” A soft puff of tense air left your lips at the feeling, unable to resist the urge to squirm and escape his tantilizing torture. “So sensitive…” He whispered, his hand coming up to softly grasp your throat, his lips moving up the side of your cheek before going back into the dip of your neck, biting down softly. You’d never experienced something so intimate, so romantic. You just closed your eyes, accepting everything he’s giving as you usually do. Except right now it feels like he’s giving it just to you. It’s for only you to have. His arm that’s under you wrapped around, his fingers teasingly tracing down your hip.

“Hey, don’t start anything. We both have class soon…” You said with a smile and he nipped at your shoulder. “Mm.” He grumbled defiantly into your neck, breathing in your scent, your shampoo mixed with the sweet smell of your skin. When was he not trying to start something? To fill you up and keep you in his bed all day after having you all night. “You’re not making me late to class again…” You said softly, still smiling as warmth spread over your cheeks. He smiled as you brought that up again. You just couldn’t seem to let that go. “It was one time…” He hummed playfully. “One too many…” You said with a sort of mischievous smile. “One too many…” He echoed your words in a breathy laugh, scoffing at your teasing. His voice is deep with sleep, fingers brushing down your chest, against your soft plush tummy and to your side, his fingertips pressing pleasantly to the little love-handles at your back, up to your shoulder blades and down your arm, his fingers encasing the back of your hand, so gentle, so soft. You’re still crushing on him hard except this time around he’s fucking you like he owns you and holding you like he made you. He sighed against your neck.

“You know what’s better than being late?... Staying in bed…” He said all smugly. “You know what’s actually better than being late?... Being on time…” You retorted back and he laughed softly. He can play this game. “You know what’s better than being on time?...... Staying in bed.” He repeated and it made you laugh. “You already said that one!” You pouted, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your back. “You know what’s better than staying in bed?... Going to class…” You said quick and giggled. It didn’t really mean anything anymore but it was fun and you wanted to win this back and forth. “No way, that’s undeniably incorrect.” He smiled, leaning up on his elbow to look more at your face as you were laughing. You looked so cute. He just couldn’t resist. “You know what’s better than going to class?” He asked and you turned back a bit to look in his eyes. “What.” You brow raised knowing he was about to say something stupid. He really wanted you to stay in bed. He smirked. “Sex with me…” It made you roll your eyes when he said it. You should have known. He smiled and moved to climb more on top of you, looking down right into your eyes. The blush that washed over your cheeks and the way you tried to look so unimpressed. “You know what’s better than sex with me?” He whispered. Was there such a thing? “Sex with you.”

You looked up into his eyes. The tension got thicker the longer he just looked at you. Your eyes rolled again, trying not to break out into a big smile. He said it so easily. Before you could even form another thought his lips were on yours. His hand coming to your cheek, fingers soft upon your face. He kept it quick, knowing you actually didn’t want to be late for class. He was only teasing. But he kissed you again… and then again. Soft pecks. That kiss he kept doing. Like his lips couldn’t stop coming back for more. Your eyes fluttered open when you realized he’s not stopping. “Mm!” You hummed, pressing softly against his shoulder and he finally relented, pecking your cheek before getting off of you. Chuckling and laying beside you on his stomach, hooking his arm under the cold side of his pillow.

Your phone buzzed on his bedside table. Catching both of your attention. You picked it up, opening it for the first time this morning. He watched over your shoulder as you unlocked the phone and went to your messages. He tried not to look too much. He did glance at the screen a few times. A certain tension building inside him. Wondering who could be texting you. He wanted to ask, or just outright look at who was texting you but he didn’t want to seem like he cared. His dark eyes flicked to the side of your face, the wisps of hair around your ear and your hairline fanning to your cheek, the slight blush from sleep and his flustering touch. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this, being with you like this…. It made him want to kill any guy who so much as looked your way. Or texted you first thing in the morning…

“My mom is just… driving me crazy…” You sighed and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Your mom?” He managed to say, physically feeling himself relax finding it was just your mother texting you. The knot in his chest unraveling. He remembered you talking about some plans to go home for the weekend. A family reunion type of thing.

“Yeah she’s… I love her but she gets sort of… crazy when it comes to plans…” You said and sent one last text before setting your phone back on the bedside table. “Well she just probably wants to see you…” He said and it brought a smile to your face. “Yeah… I just feel bad when she tries to take care of everything...” You said softly. Thinking of your mom, the kind of brave and determined woman she’s always been. “I told her, I don’t need anything fancy, I just need to see her and dad and my siblings and that’s it. And we have all the time in the world once I’m there. I mean… until it’s time to come back to school obviously…”

“Yeah…” He said softly, but it sounded like his mind was somewhere else.

You have a large family. Lots of siblings. And Miguel doesn’t have that. He has one brother of course but he doesn’t even speak to his parents unless he needs to. It was interesting for him to hear about the conversation with your mom and your relationship with her. How you always spoke of your family with such love and tenderness. He’s never experienced anything like that in his life.

“You have such a…big family.” He said softly. You couldn’t really tell with what tone he was saying it. Whether it was simply an observation, a judgment, or some sort of longing. “I do…” You sighed with a smile. You are the oldest of six which Miguel was flabbergasted to learn. “It’s not something I expected, but once you told me, it made sense.” He stated. And you couldn’t help but be curious as to why he thought that. You turned over on your side to face him more, his eyes meeting yours and the look on his face was a little surprised like you caught him off guard turning around like that. Making a direct connection with him. “Made sense, how?” You asked with a smile, curious about how he sees you. His face felt hot. The way it got hot a lot when you looked at him like that. Like his body knew something his brain didn’t. So he tried to explain while he feels like the wind is being knocked out of him. “Well… you… are very…” He starts and you’re expecting him to say what a lot of people say. That you’re dependable, you’re mature, you’re independent, helpful, capable. Because that’s how everybody has always seen you. Like anytime anyone looks at you, they’re trying to get you to help them in some way. “…patient.” He said. And you’ve never heard that one before. You smiled softly at him and he felt relieved. “Five siblings, I mean you’ve got to be patient, right?” He said and smiled, trying to make it all just a light joke, looking around a bit and away from the way you’re gazing in his eyes. But what he said was pretty profound. Tells you he’d thought about you and the kind of person you are. He’d thought about more than just sex with you. You looked in his eyes, a smile dancing on your lips. It distracted him a bit.

“How does that make you feel?” You suddenly asked him. “What.” He asked, not knowing really how to answer a question like that. “How does my patience make you feel?” You reiterated slowly, looking right in his eyes like you’re staring right into his mind. He thought, getting distracted by that look on your face. The look that for some reason let him know whatever answer he gave you would never be the wrong one.

“It…makes me…feel….”

“Fuck.” He sighs, the memory dissolving in his mind as he shoves it away. How could he be so stupid? Why did he say that kind of stuff to you? It’s like he doesn’t even remember that being him. Like he’s looking at someone else’s memory with you. He becomes someone else when he’s with you. But you looked so happy and he remembers how warm and soft you were. Holding his swollen, mangled hand, he winces at the pain still throbbing. It’s not getting any better, it’s only getting worse.

It’s radio silence for the next few days. Midterms come and over the week you’re finishing up exams and tutoring students to do well. More students than ever are taking advantage of the tutoring program that you basically resurrected from the dead. So that’s a good feeling at least. You’ve been spending basically all your time in the library, both doing your own work and meeting with any students that need help. And just hanging out with a few tutoring friends. There are some new tutors that just joined the club a few weeks ago and it’s made this whole thing much more fun, hanging out with people that are like minded in that way. Wanting to help other people.

You haven't heard from Miguel. You don’t know what became of him on Sunday night. And he didn’t reach out or anything on Monday to talk. Discuss what happened. Will you ever talk to him again? Or do you have to pretend none of this ever happened and he never existed in the first place. Your Sunday night heartbreak turns into Monday numb and Tuesday rage. Now it’s Thursday and you’ve thought of all the things you’d say to him if he showed his face again. But deep down you know it’s only the kind of thing you’d never be able to say. Like scripting the perfect comebacks in the shower and kicking yourself for not thinking to say it in the moment.

It’s hard not talking to him. Not seeing him basically everyday. Because before this past weekend you were seeing him every second you both had to spare. You’re mad at him but you miss waking up in his arms. You miss the late night texts, him wanting you, coming to you and making you feel things you’ve never felt before. Maybe you’re delusional. Was that all this was? Sex and pillowtalk? After what he said Sunday night it seems that way and he made you feel bad for ever thinking otherwise. You’re not stupid, you know that friends with benefits exist and fuckbuddies are such a common thing. And you didn’t even need to be his friend if he really didn’t want you to be! There was never even a need for some conversation about labels because to you it just seemed so obvious! No one could fake that desperation and need. That wanting passion you both shared. The things he said as you gave him everything. Your body, your thoughts, your heart. His whispers of wanting you and how good you make him feel.

Of course he felt good. He was fucking you raw almost every night and you let him because you’d fallen in love with him. But were you even friends to begin with? Did he see you as anything more than a body to do whatever he wanted with? You thought he wanted you. You were his. He told you that.

This week has been hell but you push forward. Trying not to isolate yourself and staying in touch with some tutoring friends. Unfortunately, Miguel is so popular that you always find yourself running into his friends too. But you’re realizing more and more that no one knows about you. It’s like Miguel didn’t want anyone to know he was with you. Not even his closest friends.

You’re sitting in the library for a tutoring session. Last minute cramming before the last exams later that day. Typing on your laptop, a student at your side and helping him on a calculus study guide. Elbow leaning on the table, watching him work, checking what he’s doing as he’s doing it. “Simplify it first, then use the formula…” You say softly and he does as you say, erasing some and correcting himself. “And then just the same on the next one?” He asks and you nod. Patient. That word is in your mind. Remembering when he said it. You were a little too patient with Miguel.

Miguel’s watching all of this happen. Standing behind the library door, hidden mostly and only peering in through the window in the door. He finally caught up to you after days of trying to get to you. He tried multiple times to catch you in the library this week but he always missed you. Every night he debated texting you but ultimately decided he wanted you to text him first. Mostly because he had no idea what to say. He just wanted you back. For things to go back to the way they were. He’s pissed himself off. In his mind it’s like he’s convinced himself you don’t want to talk to him.

The library is mostly empty except for you and your tutee. He wants to get you alone right now but doubts he can. Especially when you’re in the middle of doing something. But what you’re doing can’t be as important as what he needs to say to you. As important as him. His hand is aching badly as it has all week since Sunday night. Hidden in his pocket. He hasn’t done anything about it. He’s been taking ibuprofen but it’s not doing much.

If he has to wait hours to talk to you, then so be it. He won’t let this go on any longer. You’re going to talk to him whether you have anything to say or not. Somehow he’s managed to turn his desperation into anger. He leans against the wall outside the library door. Staring at the pattern on the floor. Fidgeting with the seam inside his jacket pocket. Sighing deeply, he feels uneasy thinking about what he’s going to say to you. What you might say to him. He’s got to act tough so he doesn’t lose control of the conversation. If he does he’s sure he’ll lose you. Because he knows deep down that he’s the asshole here. It’s his fault. And he’s scared to beg you for another chance.

These feelings are foreign to him. Never before has he acted this way over someone and he doesn’t know why. Is there something wrong with me? He thinks. That always seems to be his first thought. A while goes by and his mind swirls with thoughts of you.

He’s lost in thought and only glances up as he hears the doors at the end of the hall swinging closed. Someone must have walked by him. He pushes off the wall, instantly going to the window in the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

He gets halfway to you before you suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he suddenly feels like he’s doing something wrong. Eyes locked and breath caught in both your chests.

It’s been four fucking days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

It’s silent. Not a word dared spoken until…

“I need to talk to you.” The tall man finally speaks, towering over the table. Silence follows as you think about how to go about this. You thought about this moment all week. All the different scenarios and possibilities. You imagined melting into his arms as you’ve done a million times by now. But thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. After he finally spoke, it lit a fire inside you. “I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick. You don’t want to let him get away with it. You don’t know how you’re going to do that but you try not to bend completely to his will. Your attention is directed back to your keyboard, typing away and ignoring him. All those comebacks are stuck in your throat. Miguel frowns, watching you.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. And now seeing you ignore him. He wants your attention and he’s gonna get it.

After a few beats of heavy silence, he walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Pulling it out and slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets as he sits like he intends to stay.

“Y/n… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more, his knee pressing softly into the side of your thigh. He can see your anger, he can feel it too. “I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him. “Well I’m talking to you…” He says so softly, one could mistake the tone for sweet nothings. You sigh, closing your laptop with a click, you grab your bag. Ready to just leave and brush him off if he’s not going to take the hint to leave you alone. “No…no.” He says softly and reaches across you, taking your bag, lifting it over and onto his side. So you can’t get to it.

An annoyed huff escapes your lips, crossing your arms and staring straight ahead to avoid him. You’re not good at confrontation. Never had to do something like this before.

His hand comes up to brush your hair back behind your ear. The backs of his fingers brushed across your cheek. And you brush his hand away when he does it. Is he really trying that right now?

“Stop it.” You sigh, pushing his hand away absentmindedly so he opts for resting his arm on the back of your chair. “Come on… let’s talk about this.” He says and you’re starting to fume inside. Now he wants to talk? After you begged him not to leave, begged him to talk to you Sunday night? You look over at him angrily and he keeps his arm around the back of your chair. His broad shoulders give him an advantage. “What do you want?” You glare at him and he sighs. He knew you might be angry but he’s never seen you look at him that way. “Why did you even come here? Just to make things worse?” You frown and keep your arms crossed, closed off from him. “I came here to speak with you.” He says calmly, trying to maintain the control he’s been losing all week. “Well you’re not doing much speaking.” You sigh. A beat of silence follows.

“I want you to come over… tonight…” He says in that soft tone again. In his mind the both of you just need some time and things can go back to normal. “We can cool off and then you can come over and we can just move on from this.” He says and leans back a bit as if that��s that. Everything’s fixed?

“What are you talking about?” You look at him like he’s from another planet. “Can’t we just move on from this?” He asks, patience running even thinner. “This has gone on long enough… I’m tired of it… come over…” He says again and he doesn’t even realize how disappointing this all is to you.

You sigh softly. Feeling let down. He couldn’t even apologize. Couldn’t fix the problem he created. He didn’t come here to explain, or apologize, or to check up on you. The words just start to flow now.

“So you just came here to get your dick wet, is that it?” You say and stare him dead in the eyes. But his expression changes, brow raises in a certain surprise. He wasn't expecting you to say something like that.

“No… I… I wanted to…” He starts but it’s like he can’t find the words. “I just wanted to see you.” He says feeling like he’s teetering on a very dangerous line right now. And silence follows.

Why must he be so confusing? It’s like he’s making it your fault that he has no idea what he wants or how he feels. This week started with you feeling so small and insignificant. You told yourself that he’d never talk to you again after the things he said. That he really regretted being with you. That you were never supposed to happen. Just like he said. But now he’s back and he doesn’t even apologize? He just wants to act like none of it ever happened? Like he didn’t break your heart?

“Why did you ask me to tutor you? That day?” You suddenly ask as it’s something you’ve been wondering and these are the things he’s not good at talking about. He knows all of this started with him acting like a greedy douchebag but he didn’t expect to feel this way towards you. He doesn’t want to tell you the real reason he invited you to his dorm a month ago. The real reason being he wanted a quick easy fuck with someone who seemed eager and innocent. He feels like a fucking jerk. “I don’t know…” He sighs and shakes his head, looking down at the table then back up at you. All your words just seem to come spilling out now.

“Well you knew that I liked you...” You state as if it should be obvious. “What do you mean?” He asks and your brow furrows. Is he serious? “You… you knew that I liked you. When you asked me to tutor you? A month ago??” You ask hopefully, trying to confirm what you hoped to be true. You had thought he knew you had feelings for him all this time. You even hoped those feelings were returned. “N-no I… I mean I assumed maybe you might have. I didn’t really think about it too much” He says a bit nervous about where this is going. His cool control slipping. But everyone likes him so it just makes sense that you would like him too. That’s why you didn’t refuse him. And it’s all getting twisted up in his head. “Didn’t think about it? Like… it wasn’t important to you whether I liked you or not?”

And the silence falls over the both of you right then. “Well then what is this? What have we been doing?” You frown at him, waving your hands in the air a bit because you just can’t understand how you got to this point and he just keeps acting so oblivious. And he’s losing control.

“No. Wait. I didn’t say it right. I-”

“Why did you start doing all this then? If you didn’t even like me in the first place?”

His eyes go wide, not having an answer that wouldn’t make you feel even worse. “I don’t know…” He says again. He doesn’t seem to know a goddamn thing. “Was it just to string me along?! Is this all just a joke to you?! Are you trying to make fun of me or something?” You press for answers, feeling more heartbroken the longer he doesn’t give you a real answer. “No! It’s not! I am not trying to make fun of you!” He exclaims, shaking his head. This isn’t going how he wanted. This is spinning out of his control and he’s on the verge of all this collapsing. If this happened with anyone else he’d just forget it ever happened in the first place. But he couldn’t forget you if he tried. He doesn’t understand that feeling.

“You’ve just admitted you didn’t even like me when you first started this… and after a month of me giving you nothing but sex, you still just ‘don’t know’?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“That’s exactly what you just said! And apparently I was never even supposed to happen in the first place.” You throw his own words back at him and he scoffs before scrambling to explain himself in a way that won’t make you hate him even more.

“I freaked out… I don’t know why I freaked out. Can’t you just forget it? What I said was stupid I don’t even know what I was thinking…” He insists. “Seems like you were thinking a lot actually. That this was your plan all along. You don’t want a relationship, you just want a fucktoy…” You scoff and stand up from your seat, to which he immediately stands up too. His earlier confidence is crumbling.

“Come on, I was… drunk!” He scrambles to justify his outburst Sunday night.

“You said you weren’t drunk or were you lying about that too?” You move past him to grab your backpack from where he put it trying to keep it from you.

“Can you just come over? Let’s forget about this, this is a waste of time.” He begs and follows you around as you’re collecting your things off the table and shoving them into your backpack.

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time…” You say softly and shove your computer inside. “Yeah, well I do… you have wasted my time!” He raises his voice, trying to get a rise out of you but when he sees your disapproving expression he knows that wasn’t the right move. With one last zip, you’re starting to leave the empty library. And he follows frantically.

“W-Wait! Just wait… w-what do you want me to do? You want me to block Dana’s number? I’ll do it!” He’s speaking fast and frantic, reaching for your hand and holding it to stop you from leaving him.

“I don’t want you to block Dana’s number… I don’t care.” You sigh, completely over all of this. It’s too confusing. He’s a mess you’re not sure you want to be a part of.

“I’ll block her right now… you can watch me do it!

“Oh my god… enough…”

“Please.”

“Enough!!”

“I’ll cut her off… I don’t even want to see her anyway, I hate her…and we didn’t fuck on Sunday if that’s what you think!”

“Dana is not the problem”

“Dana must be the problem.”

“I’m telling you, she’s not!” You yell at him. And he finally shuts up, watching you wide eyed as you keep scolding him.

“Do you even hear yourself? D’you ever think that the problem might just be you? Are you incapable of just apologizing or do you genuinely not believe this is all your fault??! All of your problems just have to be other people’s problems right?!” And he flinches as you yell.

He’s stunned by your words and the volume with which you just scolded him. He knows he deserves it but he just can’t stop himself from arguing. He doesn’t want you to hate him even though he deserves it.

“Well I’m not perfect, okay? I can’t be…I can’t be perfect.” He pleads softly, holding onto your hand like a lifeline. A silent plea for you to not let go of him now.

“I’m not asking you to be perfect!”

His eyes stay wide. Staring at you like you’ve just told him a deep dark secret.

“I’m asking you to stop being a selfish asshole!!”

Your voice doesn’t echo in this place padded with old books and hardwood. It's sturdy and final. And finally it seems like you’re getting through to him. Maybe he’s understanding.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same. Do not tell me I was making it all up in my head. I’m not the one misreading things. You are.” You say. Your voice is softer now. Fragile as you can see he’s thinking about all that you just said.

Tell her you’re sorry, Miguel. He thinks to himself. He knows everything you’ve said is what he needs to hear. He knows he hurt you. What he said was not okay. And now he’s made you upset and angry too.

“You’re right I… about everything…” He mumbles. Sighing and looking down. His fingers slipping away from your hand. Letting it go. Letting you go.

“I… I’m sorry.” He finally says. And you let his apology sit. Allowing yourself time to decide if you’ll accept. If he deserves it. The silence is deafening.

“I-I just…” He sighs deeply. At a loss for words. He just feels so stupid. Rubbing his forehead down to his cheek frustrated. Sighing ashamedly as he tries to think of what to say that could fix this. “You asked me… to tell you what I’m feeling and I-I don’t know…” He says softly. And you stare at him wide eyed as he admits this.

“What is that?” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts for a moment. Looking back up at you confused. “Your hand.” You say, your eyes locked on his busted hand as he rubs his face. He pulls it behind his back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. “It’s nothing I-” He painfully clenches his hand behind his back. The guilt is overwhelming. Please don’t feel bad for me. He thinks to himself. You’ve been far too patient with him.

“Show me.” You demand softly, looking in his eyes. And you’re serious. He sighs softly and brings his hand out, holding it out sheepishly to show you. The hand that’s held you, the hand that’s touched you… it’s cut up and bruised.

“What happened?” You ask sternly with a hardened expression when you finally see the cuts in his knuckles and the bruises. His hand is mangled, swollen, purple and clearly would cause anyone lots of pain. “Don’t lie to me.” You sternly say. And he doesn’t dare lie to you again. “I just… punched my locker.” He looks down ashamed. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. Broken and defeated. It’s not a good feeling, you don’t like seeing him like this. “When did this happen?” You ask firmly and he answers in a sigh. “Sunday.” Shoving his hand back in his pocket. It makes sense that he would have thrown a fit after he stormed out Sunday night. He must have been going about his week with his hand like that and not doing anything about it. “Did you go to the hospital?” He shakes his head at your question. Averting your gaze. “It’s gonna get worse if you don’t.” You insist and he just nods. For fear of his voice breaking if he found any words.

“I’m sorry Y/n… I’ll just go…” He says softly and steps back, and once again it’s like everything inside him is telling him to leave. You stand there. Not wanting to stop him this time. Watching him as he goes.

“You should go to the hospital.” You say soft and serious as he walks past you. Staying still and not attempting to stop him from leaving. You’ve made your point. And he didn’t win. But neither of you won tonight. He nods softly and keeps his head down, walking past you to leave the library. And he’s going to try his hardest not to bother you again. You’re so kind, so patient, so real. And he fucked up the one good thing he had going on. The one thing that made him feel good. Instead of belittling you, he should have acknowledged that he has some messy feelings of his own.

So he leaves. And you’re left standing in the library. You stood up for yourself. You told him off. But why do you feel so empty? Maybe it was seeing him so broken. When it comes to things that are good for him, he seems to forget himself.

He leaves the library silently. Walking down the dim hallways of the building and then outside. It’s raining again. It’s been raining pretty much all week. Pulling his hood up, he walks down the front steps of the academic building. Walking through the rain and not even bothering to run this time. Letting the rain pelt his sweatshirt, soak right through to his skin. He feels so stupid. He feels confused. And he feels sorry. But you deserve better than him.

Getting back to his residence building, he gets in the elevator. Staring at the floor and leaning his head against the wall as it travels up to his floor. He scoffs when the conversation replays in his head. His own words echoing and hearing himself act like such a dick. He didn’t know what other way to approach you other than to try and make things go back to normal. He wants things the way they were.

But he’s realizing the way things were is not fair to you. It’s not like all month the two of you just happened to cross paths. It’s not like you were sleeping with each other because there was no one else. It’s because neither of you can stay away from the other. It’s this messy obsession fueled with fire. He could touch you blind and know the pulse at your throat, the tips of your fingers, the plush of your stomach. He’d know the whispers of your voice, the fan of your breath over his cheek, the taste of your tongue. So then why is he so afraid? If he’s memorized every shimmering stretch mark, every inch of your skin, the sound of your voice, then why does he keep pushing you away?

He wants you to be his… but he wants to be yours just as much.

Miguel sighs as the elevator finally dings and the door opens. He keeps his head down, walking down the hall to his door. Unlocking it and walking inside. His hand hurts like hell. The cuts are just starting to heal but his fingers are still busted and swollen. It’s hard for him to open and close his hand all the way.

His phone rings, vibrating in his pocket as he peels off his wet hoodie and kicks his shoes off. Pulling it out from his pocket, he sees who’s calling. He didn’t expect it to be you. And it’s not. It’s his Father.

His heart sinks further, letting it ring, staring at the caller ID. This is the last thing he needs right now. Sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his vibrating phone in the palm of his hand, his eyes start to sting. Hot tears welling up and brimming in his eyes. When the ringing finally stops he drops his phone on the bed and drops his face into his hand. A shaky sigh trembling in his chest, swollen, hurting fingers clenching painfully on his lap. His arms wrap around himself, leaning over and down into his bed. He’s so tired. And he’s alone again just like always. He doesn’t feel bad for himself, he feels bad about himself. What is it about him that drives everyone away? You just answered that question for him tonight. It’s just him.

...

“It… makes me… feel… steady? Like… like there’s nothing to worry about. Or like… y’know…” He sighed, flipping over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling as you looked over at him across the pillows. The words felt trapped in his chest but they flowed like a river from his lips. “Like things feel slow...in a good way.”

…

He remembers saying that. He remembers meaning every word. Right now he feels anything but steady. He's collapsed.

His tears dry after a while and he keeps trying to just fall asleep and forget all of this. Even for just a few hours. But he can’t seem to just fall asleep. His head hurts and all he wants is to rest for once after this shitty week. But his running mind won’t let him.

His eyes crack open to check the time, his alarm clock blaring red in the darkness of his room. 2:17am. “Ugh…” He sighs, letting his head fall back onto the covers. He’s been sitting like this for hours now.

Knock knock knock.

He hears the knock on the door, flinching and sitting up slightly on his elbows. Watching the door and wondering if he’s hearing things. But there it is again. Three soft knocks.

“Miguel?” Your soft voice sounds from the other side of the door and he sits up completely. Eyes wide and heart thumping. This is his last chance. He can’t mess it up this time. He immediately gets up and turns on his desk light, running a hand through his hair and going to the door, unlocking the bolt and opening it. He doesn’t care if it seems desperate, he is desperate.

He looks smaller somehow. Or maybe you just feel bigger in some way. He’s staring at you as he stands in the opening of his door. And his immediate instinct is to try whatever he can to make things better.

“Y/n… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t hav-”

“Put your shoes on.” You shush him softly. You didn’t come here for an apology.

“What?” He steps forward, not understanding your request. It’s 2am and you’re both half asleep anyway.

“Put your shoes on please.” You say again. “And a hoodie or something, it’s cold outside.”

His brow furrows in confusion but he’s not going to argue with you right now. You’re here and talking to him so that’s what matters. Using his one good hand, he pulls his sneakers on at the door, grabbing his hoodie off the back of his desk chair. “Where are we going?” He asks and passes through his door to you. He’d go anywhere if it meant he could be with you right now. A soft hopeful expression on his face. “We’re going to the hospital.”

To be continued…

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Taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

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@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

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#artists on tumblr #smut #artists on tiktok #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel #miguelohara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguelito

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gracieheartspedro · 7 months ago

Text

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before.

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat.

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy?

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life.

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him.

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic.

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you.

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face.

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself.

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him.

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.”

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat.

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes.

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it.

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner.

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things.

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind.

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like.

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you.

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date.

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable.

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed.

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be.

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”.

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands.

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne.

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring.

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t.

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness.

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel.

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking.

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable.

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting.

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently.

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner.

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies.

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.”

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full.

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response.

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you.

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen.

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas.

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything.

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right.

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing.

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough.

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass.

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft.

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up.

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment.

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment.

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight.

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller au #joel miller the last of us #tlou au #pedro pascal characters #gracieheartspedro

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triptuckers · 1 year ago

Text

on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader Summary: you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings: reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count: 917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

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mochinek0 · 11 months ago

Text

In Sickness and in Health

"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.

"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.

'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'

"Stay after class, please." they replied.

Damian simply nodded.

'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'

"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."

"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.

"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."

"I can do that." Damian accepted.

'At least I can still work by myself.'

Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.

"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.

"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."

"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.

'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'

"Yes." he answered, still unsure.

"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."

Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.

'A door would be better suited.'

Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.

'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'

"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.

"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."

She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.

"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.

'Polite; unexpected.'

"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.

"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.

"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.

"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."

"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.

"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."

'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'

Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"

"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.

Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.

'She calls this functional?'

Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.

'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'

"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.

"I'm emancipated." she smiled.

'She's by herself?'

Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.

"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."

Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.

"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.

'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'

The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.

He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"

"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.

'Guess he really needed to go.'

Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.

"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."

Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.

"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.

'Shit!'

Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.

'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'

Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.

"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.

"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.

Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.

"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.

'Why would he give this to me?'

Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.

"I make my own teas." he replied.

Mari smiled, "Thank you."

Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.

"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."

Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.

"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.

"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"

Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.

"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."

Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.

This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.

'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'

Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.

"You're-" she began.

"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.

"Sorry." Mari whispered.

Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.

"Use it." he demanded.

Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.

'102.5'

"I'm fine." Marinette declared.

"You are far from fine." Damian stated.

Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.

Marinette woke up to the room being dark.

"Damian?" she called out.

She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.

'Sticky note?'

She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.

'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'

Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.

'Gonna need it.'

Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.

'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'

He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.

'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'

Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.

"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"

"I did." he answered.

"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."

"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.

"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."

Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.

"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.

Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"

Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.

"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.

Mari added her contact information and handed it back.

"Sick Girl?" he questioned.

"So you know it's me." Mari answered.

He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.

"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.

"That was all." he said and quickly left.

Marinette closed the door an giggled.

'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'

Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.

'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'

The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.

'Marinette.'

"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."

Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.

"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.

"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.

"He could have been nicer."

"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"

"Lucky bitch."

"I can’t believe she was his partner."

"He probably did it himself, already."

"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."

"I can’t believe he touched her."

"True."

"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."

Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.

"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.

Damian looked at her questioningly.

"For rescuing me." she answered.

"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."

"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."

"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.

"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."

"You were late." he growled.

"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."

Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.

"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.

Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."

"No!" she cried out.

"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"

"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.

He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.

"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.

"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.

"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.

Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"

"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"

"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.

"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."

"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.

"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."

'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'

"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."

"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"

"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.

"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.

"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"

Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.

The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.

'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'

DAMINETTE TAGLIST: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb

TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

#daminette #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette in gotham #bullied marinette #emancipated marinette #sick marinette #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #history project #matchmaking teacher #maribat #damian worried #grumpy damian #mochinek0

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barblaz-arts · 9 months ago

Note

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

#asks #hazbin hotel #chaggie #truly love charlie as a character #i dont agree with people who say that charlie didn't feel like the main character of the show #she is still very much the heart and star of the story #if they felt more drawn to the male characters that isn't fully the show's fault #Alastor didn't even have as much screentime as i thought he would have #which is good!#he's entertaining but better in certain doses

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gyorouis · 29 days ago

Text

𐙚 CHARMED & TWISTED - KTH.

— for a second, he looks like he's about to say something, but then he shakes his head, a faint smirk on lips. "look, just focus on the work. i'm not here to babysit."

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (whatever)

pairing: senior!taehyun x afab!reader

warning: hmm, idk... words (?) lmk if i forgot anything!

wordcount: 10.6k

now playing: lola amour — fallen ୨ৎ

you’ve always admired the photography club from afar, watching the members wander around campus with their cameras slung over their shoulders, capturing moments of beauty in the most ordinary of places. this semester, you finally decide to join. after all, it’s your second year, and you’re determined to push yourself out of your comfort zone. photography has always been something you were passionate about, so why not give it a try?

the first meeting is held in a small classroom tucked away in the art building. you arrive early, scanning the room filled with posters of famous photographers and their work. the air smells faintly of ink and aged paper, adding to your nervous excitement.

as people start filing in, a tall figure catches your attention—taehyun. he’s the club’s vice president, two years older than you, and practically a legend on campus. effortlessly cool, he strolls in with a confident stride, his camera slung casually around his neck. his easy smile and warm greetings charm the room, but when his gaze sweeps over you, his expression changes, if only for a moment.

you brush it off, assuming he didn’t see you clearly, but there’s a part of you that wonders.

the meeting progresses, and you’re introduced to the club representative, who enthusiastically welcomes new members and explains the semester’s projects. your attention drifts back to taehyun, who’s leaning against a desk, laughing easily with a group of girls near the front. his dimples deepen with each smile, giving him a laid-back charm that seems completely genuine.

eventually, it’s time for introductions. when you stand up, you feel the weight of his gaze. “hi, i’m y/n. this is my first semester in the club. i’ve always loved photography, so i’m really excited to learn from all of you.”

when you glance over, taehyun’s face is oddly neutral, almost cold, unlike the friendly smile he’s given everyone else. your stomach twists uncomfortably as you sit back down.

after the meeting, you muster up the courage to approach him. “hey, taehyun, right? i’ve heard a lot about you. i’m really excited to be a part of the club.”

he looks up from his camera, his expression tightening as he nods curtly. “yeah, welcome.”

the conversation feels stilted, but you push on. “do you have any tips for someone just starting out? i’m kind of nervous about keeping up with everyone.”

he barely glances at you. “just… practice,” he says, in a tone so dismissive it feels almost like an insult. “you’ll get better.”

“right… thanks,” you reply, your smile faltering.

as you walk away, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder. he’s already back to laughing with another group, his smile warm and easy. it stings, but you’re determined to shake it off. maybe he’s just naturally distant with new people, you reason.

then the representative announces the semester project groups, and fate decides to toy with you. you’re assigned to taehyun’s group. the president claps him on the back. “taehyun, help this group come up with a concept for their project. guide them.”

taehyun nods, flashing the president a smile. but when his eyes meet yours, that warmth disappears, replaced by an unreadable stare.

the first group meeting only solidifies your frustration. while he’s relaxed and encouraging with the others, tossing out ideas and giving thoughtful feedback, he’s standoffish with you, offering only clipped responses. when you suggest a potential theme, he doesn’t even look up, simply muttering, “we’ll see.”

by the end of the meeting, your patience snaps. you linger as he packs up his camera, determined to get some answers.

“did i do something to offend you?” you ask, forcing your voice to stay calm.

he raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“it’s just… you seem friendly with everyone else, but with me…” you pause, searching for the right words. “it’s like you don’t even want me in the group.”

he sighs, adjusting his camera strap. “it’s nothing personal.”

“then what is it?” you press, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.

for a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but then he shakes his head, a faint smirk on his lips. “look, just focus on the work. i’m not here to babysit.”

you open your mouth to retort, but he walks away, leaving you fuming.

over the next few weeks, the tension only worsens. taehyun is attentive and encouraging with the rest of the group, but with you, he’s almost dismissive, barely acknowledging your presence. it’s maddening.

during a group meeting, he discusses lighting techniques with another member, patiently explaining the finer details. when you ask a question about camera settings, he glances at you, almost bored. “you can google it,” he says.

“oh, thanks for the insightful advice,” you mutter sarcastically, unable to hide your irritation.

he raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “problem?”

“only that you seem to think i’m not worth your time,” you snap.

he leans back, crossing his arms. “maybe i just don’t have time for people who expect to be spoon-fed.”

you grit your teeth, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting under your skin. “noted. i’ll be sure to stay out of your way.”

“good,” he says smoothly, smirking. “it’ll make things easier for both of us.”

despite his attitude, you can’t help but notice the way he lingers in your thoughts. as much as he irritates you, you find yourself watching him during club activities, taking note of how he interacts with others, how he positions himself for the perfect shot. there’s something about the way he sees the world through his camera that’s mesmerizing.

one day, while reviewing some photos in the club room, you catch him watching you. he quickly averts his gaze, but you’ve already seen the flicker of something in his expression—something that isn’t annoyance.

before you can question it, he speaks up, voice back to its usual edge. “if you’re done staring, maybe you could focus on the composition instead of just the exposure.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you shoot back, holding up the camera. “maybe i’ll just copy the ‘legendary’ taehyun.”

“wouldn’t be the worst idea,” he says, smirking. “though i doubt you could keep up.”

a flush rises to your cheeks. “you’re seriously unbearable.”

“and yet,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his gaze challenging, “you’re still here.”

his proximity sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to let him see you waver. “yeah, because i care about the project, not because i enjoy your company.”

“funny,” he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “because you look like you’re enjoying this.”

your heart races as he steps back, leaving you flustered and, frustratingly, intrigued. whatever strange animosity lies between you two, it’s only getting stronger, and despite yourself, you’re drawn to it—drawn to him in a way you can’t quite explain, even if it annoys you to no end.

as weeks pass, the strange tension between you and taehyun only seems to grow. every club meeting follows the same pattern: he’s friendly and helpful with everyone else, offering tips on lighting, sharing his best shots, laughing along with jokes. he even shows others his photos, pointing out the details he likes, encouraging them to try new techniques. but with you, there’s still that wall, like you’re the last person he wants around.

it’s infuriating.

one afternoon, after a particularly chilly exchange with taehyun, you find yourself in the campus café with hana. she’s sipping on an iced latte, watching you with her usual keen interest as you vent.

“i just don’t get it,” you say, stirring your coffee a little too aggressively. “he’s so... normal with everyone else, but with me, it’s like i don’t even exist half the time.”

hana raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “maybe he’s got a little crush on you.”

you let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “taehyun? having a crush on me? please. he practically runs in the other direction every time i’m around.”

“think about it,” hana insists, leaning in. “he’s cool and collected with everyone else, right? but with you, he’s all weird and distant. it could totally be his way of hiding how he feels.”

you shake your head, though her words stir something in you. “but why would he act like that? if he liked me, wouldn’t he just... i don’t know, be nice?”

“you’d be surprised,” hana says, giving you a knowing look. “some people have no idea how to act around someone they like. maybe he’s trying to keep you at arm’s length because he doesn’t know what else to do.”

you scoff, though a small flicker of curiosity sparks in your mind. “you think he’s avoiding me because he likes me?”

hana shrugs. “could be. or he’s just a jerk. but there’s only one way to find out.” she winks. “test him.”

“test him?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “how?”

“you know, catch him off guard,” she suggests. “say something unexpected. see if he reacts. you’ll know if he’s just being weird with you or if there’s something else going on.”

the idea lingers in your mind long after you leave the café, even as you try to push it away. why would taehyun, the effortlessly confident vice president of the photography club, act strange around you for any reason other than irritation? but a tiny part of you wonders if hana is onto something.

the next club meeting, you decide to put hana’s theory to the test. it’s a typical afternoon, everyone gathered in the clubroom, chatting and reviewing each other’s work. taehyun, as usual, is in his element, showing one of the new members how to adjust their aperture for a softer background.

you watch him for a moment, summoning the courage to interrupt.

“taehyun,” you say, stepping forward and forcing yourself to meet his gaze directly.

he glances at you, his expression unreadable. “yeah?”

“i was wondering if you could help me with something,” you say, trying to keep your tone light. “you’re the expert, after all.”

his brow arches, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. “oh, really?” he asks, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “and here i thought you didn’t need my help.”

you shrug, feeling a spark of satisfaction at his reaction. “guess i’m full of surprises.”

taehyun stares at you for a second longer than necessary, and you could swear there’s a hint of something in his eyes—hesitation, maybe. then he clears his throat and gestures to the camera in your hands. “what is it you need help with?”

“well, i was struggling to get the right lighting for a portrait shot,” you say, holding up the camera. “thought maybe the great taehyun could give me some pointers.”

he narrows his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “flattery won’t get you very far.”

“oh, please,” you say with a roll of your eyes, feeling more confident. “just show me what i’m doing wrong.”

he steps closer, and your pulse quickens despite yourself. he adjusts the settings on your camera, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and you’re painfully aware of the way your heart races at the contact.

“see,” he says, his voice lower, “it’s about getting the right balance between the shadows and highlights. you were just a bit too heavy on the contrast.”

you nod, trying to focus on his words, but it’s difficult with the way he’s standing so close. “got it,” you mumble.

“think you can handle that?” he asks, his tone teasing as he hands the camera back to you.

“oh, please,” you say, mimicking his earlier words. “flattery won’t get you very far.”

he chuckles, the sound soft and unexpectedly warm. “maybe you’re not as hopeless as i thought.”

“wow, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you shoot back, feigning shock.

taehyun rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile. “don’t get used to it.”

after the meeting, hana is waiting outside the clubroom, her eyes lighting up when she sees you. “so? did you do it?”

you sigh, falling into step beside her. “i tried. i don’t know if it really got us anywhere, but he actually... helped me. willingly. and i think he might’ve almost smiled.”

hana grins. “see? he’s totally into you.”

“i still don’t buy it,” you say, though your heart betrays you, thudding a little harder at the thought.

over the next few days, you keep up with your plan, occasionally catching taehyun off guard, asking for his help or making casual conversation. he starts to loosen up, but there’s always that underlying tension, like both of you are playing a game you can’t quite figure out.

one afternoon, while you’re packing up after a club activity, he stops by your side, clearing his throat awkwardly. “hey.”

you glance up, surprised to see him lingering. “yeah?”

“i, uh... noticed some of your photos from last week,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “they were actually pretty good.”

you blink, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “oh. thanks.”

“i mean,” he continues, looking almost embarrassed, “they’re not perfect, but... you’re getting better.”

you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “high praise coming from you.”

he lets out a soft laugh, glancing away. “don’t let it go to your head.”

the thing taehyun hadn’t anticipated was just how difficult it would be to ignore you. it started innocently enough, with casual glances across the library or quick glances when you weren’t looking. he told himself he was just curious about you, about this person who seemed so different from everyone else he knew.

but that small, nagging curiosity grew into something more. he remembers it vividly—last semester, late at night in the library. he’d been buried under stacks of papers, the weight of finals pressing down on him. then, he looked up and saw you at a table nearby, your face illuminated by the soft glow of your laptop. you looked... serene. completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. he found himself watching you longer than he should have, memorizing the way you unconsciously chewed on the end of your pen, how you’d furrow your brow whenever you didn’t understand something. and then, without warning, you looked up and met his gaze.

caught off guard, taehyun had immediately glanced down at his notes, pretending he hadn’t just been staring. his heart had raced embarrassingly fast, and he mentally scolded himself. it was ridiculous. he barely knew you. so he kept his distance, convinced it would pass.

but it hadn’t. every club meeting, every casual encounter, every time he saw you laugh with friends or discuss a new idea in a way that lit up your entire face, he found himself drawn to you all over again.

and now, with the two of you working closer in the club, avoiding you was becoming... impossible.

one afternoon, after the meeting has wrapped up, taehyun finds himself standing by the door, glancing over at you as you gather your things. he tells himself to walk away, to ignore the urge to talk to you. but instead, he clears his throat.

“hey.”

you glance up, surprised, and he notices the way your eyes soften slightly. “yeah?”

“i, uh...” he falters, feeling his usual confidence abandon him. “i wanted to ask... how did you come up with that concept for the photo series? the one with the shadows and reflections?”

your face lights up, the way it always does when you’re talking about something you care about. “oh! it was kind of spontaneous, actually. i saw this old building downtown with these intricate windows, and the way the sunlight hit them just... i don’t know, it felt like it told a story.”

he nods, captivated not only by your words but by the energy in your expression. “that’s... impressive. i never would’ve thought of it like that.”

you raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “really? i thought the great taehyun had thought of everything.”

he chuckles, a little self-conscious. “guess you’re full of surprises.”

for a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between you two, and he’s painfully aware of how close he’s standing. he wants to say more, to maybe even reach out and brush that stray strand of hair behind your ear, but instead, he clears his throat, stepping back.

“well, i should get going,” he says, his voice a little strained. “see you next meeting?”

you nod, your gaze lingering on him. “yeah... see you.”

taehyun walks away, feeling his heart race, wondering why he can’t just act normal around you. later that evening, as he scrolls through his phone, he stumbles upon a photo you posted of the city at night. the caption reads, “finding stories in the smallest places.”

without thinking, he likes the post, and his finger hovers over the screen, tempted to comment. he types out a message, something casual like, “great shot. didn’t know you were into cityscapes.” but he deletes it just as quickly, feeling stupid for overthinking a simple compliment.

the next day, you and taehyun cross paths on campus. he’s deep in conversation with a couple of his friends, but when he spots you, he instinctively freezes, his words trailing off. his friends, beomgyu and kai, notice immediately.

“yo, taehyun,” beomgyu says with a smirk, nudging him. “you good?”

taehyun clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “yeah, just... thought i saw someone.”

kai follows his gaze, grinning when he spots you. “ah, it’s her.”

“you mean y/n?” beomgyu asks, raising an eyebrow. “why do you get all weird whenever she’s around?”

“i don’t get weird,” taehyun protests, but the heat rising in his cheeks betrays him. “just... forget it.”

beomgyu and kai exchange glances, both clearly amused. “dude, just go talk to her,” kai says, giving taehyun a shove in your direction. “it’s not that hard.”

taehyun grumbles under his breath but reluctantly approaches you, ignoring the way his friends snicker behind him. when he reaches you, he tries to play it casual, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“hey,” he says, his voice sounding more strained than he intended. “what’s up?”

you blink, clearly not expecting him to approach. “uh, just heading to my next class. you?”

“same,” he lies, hoping you don’t notice his friends watching from a distance.

you nod, a hint of a smile on your lips. “well... see you around?”

“yeah,” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself for not saying something more interesting. as he watches you walk away, he glances over his shoulder at beomgyu and kai, who are practically in tears from laughing.

“wow,” beomgyu says between laughs, “smooth, man. real smooth.”

taehyun scowls. “shut up.”

over the next few days, his friends’ teasing becomes a regular occurrence, and it only fuels his internal struggle. he tries to keep his distance from you, to ignore the way his heart beats faster whenever you’re near, but it’s like fighting a losing battle.

one afternoon, after a particularly stressful class, he heads to the library to unwind. he’s flipping through a book on photography techniques when he hears a familiar voice nearby. looking up, he sees you sitting at a table, intently reading.

before he can talk himself out of it, he walks over. “mind if i sit?”

you glance up, surprise flashing across your face before you nod. “sure.”

he takes the seat across from you, feeling oddly self-conscious. “what are you reading?”

“oh, it’s just some history book,” you say, holding it up. “nothing too exciting.”

he quirks an eyebrow. “you like history?”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, sounding a little defensive. “there’s a lot to learn from the past. plus, it helps with storytelling in photography—finding patterns, understanding context.”

he nods, impressed. “never thought about it that way. guess i still have a lot to learn.”

you smile, and he can’t help but feel a warmth spread through him at the sight. the two of you fall into an easy conversation, discussing your favorite books and stories behind some of your photos. he realizes, with a pang, that he genuinely enjoys talking to you, that being close to you feels... natural.

the conversation stretches on, and it’s only when the library’s closing announcement comes on that he realizes how much time has passed.

“guess we should go,” you say, standing up and gathering your things.

“yeah,” he says, reluctantly getting to his feet. “it was... nice, talking to you.”

you look at him, a softness in your gaze. “yeah. maybe we could do this again sometime?”

he’s stunned for a moment but manages a nod. “yeah. i’d like that.”

as you walk away, he feels a strange mix of regret and relief. keeping his distance was supposed to protect both of you, but now he’s not so sure. maybe, just maybe, this was worth taking a chance on.

you shrugged off the thoughts of taehyun being interested in you. after all, what matters now is that you guys have became friends? probably. maybe this was just how he made friends, how he interacted with people. you had convinced yourself that there was nothing more to it, even if a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was... different.

the moments you spent with him, working together on photography projects, were unexpected. you’d never imagined being so comfortable around taehyun—someone you had once thought was nothing more than an arrogant vice president. but now, as you spent hours together, trying to capture the perfect shot or giving each other tips on lighting, you found yourself actually enjoying his company. he had a way of making you laugh when you were frustrated, a quiet encouragement that helped you push past your own doubts.

sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. maybe it was admiration, or maybe it was something else. but every time you tried to understand it, your mind would race, and you’d push the thought aside. things were better this way, right? just friends.

but then, park jongsung joined the club.

you remembered the first time you met him. he had introduced himself with a wide, easygoing smile, and when he mentioned that he was from your hometown, you felt an instant connection. it was like finding a little piece of home in this campus full of strangers. after a few days of casual chats, you found yourself laughing more around him, the shared memories of your hometown providing an easy bridge between the two of you.

"so, do you still go to that café by the river? i swear they have the best waffles," jongsung had said one afternoon as you both flipped through your photos, trying to figure out the next project.

you smiled, happy to talk about something so familiar. "yeah, i miss it actually. we should go sometime."

from then on, you and jongsung spent more time together. whether it was wandering the campus, looking for new photo opportunities, or just grabbing coffee, you felt like you’d found someone who understood you. you were surprised by how quickly you clicked, how natural it felt to talk to him. and yet, as you grew closer to jongsung, you couldn’t help but notice something strange.

taehyun had started pulling away.

it was subtle at first. he stopped showing up to some of the photography sessions you had together, the ones where you’d normally ask each other to model for one another. when he did come, he seemed distant, almost like he was forcing himself to be there. the casual banter you used to share had faded, replaced with awkward silences that hung in the air between you two.

you couldn't help but feel confused. hadn’t things been going so well before? you’d been working together so often, laughing at stupid jokes, even venturing to a new café together one afternoon to try some bizarrely named coffee drink. but now, taehyun was barely around, and when he was, he kept his distance. you could almost feel a wall growing between you two, and you had no idea why.

one afternoon, as you were discussing a new photography idea with jongsung, taehyun passed by the table. you glanced up, and for a second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—something that made your stomach drop. he paused just long enough for you to notice, but then he quickly walked away, his back rigid.

“what’s going on with taehyun?” jongsung asked, his voice low as he noticed your gaze lingering on taehyun’s retreating figure.

you shrugged, trying to act casual. “i don’t know. he’s been acting weird lately.”

jongsung raised an eyebrow. “you sure? seems like he’s been avoiding you. and honestly, i don’t think it’s just about photography. he used to hang around you a lot, right?”

you bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you had been thinking the same thing. “maybe... maybe it’s nothing. he probably just got busy.”

but deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about being busy. taehyun had always made time for you, even when he was drowning in responsibilities. this sudden distance didn’t make sense.

a few days later, taehyun’s behavior only became more apparent. during a group project meeting, he barely contributed, his responses short and curt. you caught his eye a couple of times, hoping to catch his usual playful smile, but it never came. instead, he seemed preoccupied, his gaze drifting off into the distance. even when you tried to catch his attention with a lighthearted comment, it fell flat. his only response was a stiff nod.

after the meeting, you tried to stop him as he gathered his things. “taehyun, hey—can we talk for a second?”

he turned to you, his expression unreadable. “about what?”

you hesitated, suddenly unsure of what you wanted to say. “i... i don't know. you’ve just been acting weird lately, and i don’t get it.”

his gaze shifted to the side, like he was avoiding looking directly at you. “maybe i’ve just been busy.”

“busy? with what? you used to be the first one to show up to our meetings,” you said, your voice rising just a little with frustration. “we used to talk all the time. what's going on?”

taehyun paused, a flicker of something crossing his face before he answered, his voice quieter now. “maybe i’m just tired. i’ll see you around.”

and with that, he walked away.

you stood there, feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of you. you were left standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling both confused and hurt. what had just happened? taehyun was slipping away, and you didn’t know why.

jongsung, who had been watching from a distance, approached you cautiously. “hey... i don’t know what’s going on, but i think you should talk to him. if you’re worried about something.”

you nodded, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew that the conversation would have to happen soon, whether you were ready for it or not. because right now, it felt like the space between you and taehyun was widening more and more with every passing day, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the question kept repeating in your head: why was taehyun pulling away?

the next few days felt like a blur. you tried to focus on your work, on your photography, but your thoughts kept drifting back to taehyun. you found yourself watching him more than you should have, trying to decipher the coldness that had replaced his usual warmth. each time you saw him, a knot would form in your chest, but every time you tried to confront him, the words just wouldn’t come.

it wasn’t until a week later that you caught him alone in the library. he was sitting at a table, headphones on, completely absorbed in his work. you hesitated, heart racing, but finally, you walked up to him.

“taehyun,” you said softly, and he looked up, surprised.

“hey,” he said, taking off his headphones. “what’s up?”

you took a deep breath. “i need to ask you something. why have you been avoiding me?”

taehyun’s expression faltered for a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “i’m not avoiding you,” he said quickly, but the way he said it didn’t convince you.

“yes, you are,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. “it’s been going on for weeks. ever since jongsung joined the club. i don’t know what’s going on, but it’s like you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

taehyun looked away, his jaw tightening. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the silent struggle he was going through.

and then, for the first time in weeks, taehyun spoke, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

“maybe it’s because i’m... jealous.”

“what?” you asked, barely catching what you had just said.

taehyun stood up abruptly, his eyes avoiding yours. “nothing,” he muttered, grabbing his things in a hurry, clearly trying to escape the conversation.

“wait, no, what did you say?” you shot up from your seat, your voice rising before you could stop yourself.

he didn’t answer. instead, he walked quickly toward the exit, and you followed instinctively, unable to let it go.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, your frustration growing. “this is just like when i was fresh in the club—pushing me around, avoiding me for no reason.”

the librarian, who had been watching the interaction with a disapproving eye, shushed you sharply.

you froze, immediately feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “sorry,” you muttered, but it was too late. the awkwardness lingered in the air.

once the librarian returned to their desk, you rolled your eyes, exasperated. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching taehyun's retreating figure. if this is how he wants it to be, then fine. let it be.

the next few days were a mess.

taehyun and you had completely slipped back into the routine of barely speaking. when you did exchange words, they were clipped, almost hostile. the small conversations you had during club meetings felt strained, like every word was carefully selected to avoid any real connection. and every time he looked at you, it felt like he was trying to pretend you didn’t exist, or worse, like you were the last person he wanted to see.

it was frustrating. maddening.

you would sit across from him in club meetings, pretending to be absorbed in your work, while the tension simmered between you. whenever you spoke, it was as if you had to hold back everything you wanted to say, every insult, every sharp retort that begged to be released.

one afternoon, during a club meeting, the silence between you two was thick enough to cut through. everyone was focused on the tasks at hand, but the second you exchanged a glance with taehyun, everything shifted. his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and you caught that look—the one that said he was done with you. done with whatever had been between you.

“hey, could you pass me the camera?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you reached for the equipment, hoping he wouldn’t refuse, hoping that maybe, just maybe, things could still be normal.

taehyun didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on his phone for a moment too long. when he finally looked up, his expression was unreadable. “it’s right there,” he said, pointing toward the camera on the table without moving an inch.

you froze, your frustration boiling up. right there? you were clearly reaching for it, but instead of handing it over, he dismissed you like you weren’t even worth the effort.

“right,” you muttered under your breath, reaching for the camera yourself, the tension in your muscles growing with every second.

the rest of the meeting went on in a similarly tense silence. every word that came out of your mouth felt like it had to be calculated, as if he would pounce on any slight mistake. and sure enough, the moment you spoke again, taehyun was there, his comment sharp and cutting.

“maybe if you spent less time looking for drama, you’d actually get the work done right,” he remarked offhandedly, his tone mocking.

your blood boiled. “oh, sorry. i didn’t realize you were the authority on how to get things done,” you shot back, the sarcasm in your voice cutting deep.

“you’re always looking for a fight,” he muttered, not even bothering to look at you this time. “I’m just saying, focus on the project. it’s not like we have all day to babysit you.”

you clenched your fists, trying to hold back the urge to snap at him, but you couldn’t. not anymore. “you know, maybe i wouldn’t need babysitting if you weren’t always trying to make everything about yourself.”

taehyun’s head snapped toward you, his expression darkening. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

“it means everything you do is always about proving how much better you are than everyone else,” you said, standing up now, unable to keep your voice steady. “it’s always ‘taehyun this’ and ‘taehyun that.’”

he stood up as well, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn’t feel so left behind.”

your chest tightened. “left behind?” you repeated, incredulous. “you’ve been ignoring me on purpose, taehyun. don’t act like it’s about effort.”

“oh, so now i’m the villain?” taehyun sneered, taking a step toward you. “maybe you just don’t get it. you think this is high school, where we’re supposed to be in constant competition with each other, huh? well, newsflash, it’s not. I’m done trying to cater to your drama.”

your heart pounded in your chest, and the words slipped out before you could stop them. “maybe i’m just done with you. for good.”

taehyun paused, his eyes narrowing as he tried to process your words. “is that supposed to hurt? because it doesn’t.”

the coldness in his voice stung more than you cared to admit, but you refused to back down. “good. because i don’t care. go ahead, do your thing. you’re so good at it.”

“you think you know everything about me?” he sneered, stepping even closer now. “you don’t have a clue.”

“and i don’t want one,” you shot back, your voice a mix of anger and hurt. “you’re exhausting.”

you turned away, your hands shaking slightly, and you could feel the weight of his stare burning into your back. but you didn’t look back. you couldn’t.

the atmosphere was tense again at the next club meeting. the small banter you and taehyun had been sharing in the past few weeks was gone, replaced by the usual coldness. you were discussing a new project when taehyun made another unnecessary comment about your work. it was the same thing every time lately: he had to say something, anything, to get under your skin.

“you’re still overexposing the photos,” he said with a casual shrug, glancing at your camera settings.

“oh, really? thank you for the critique, taehyun,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “i didn’t realize i had an expert on photography sitting across from me.”

taehyun rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “i’m just trying to help, but if you want to keep messing up your settings, go ahead.”

“maybe i’ll just start messing up all the settings on purpose so you can feel better about yourself,” you muttered, not caring if he heard you.

“oh, please, you’re not that creative,” he snapped, leaning back in his chair. “if you actually put some thought into it, maybe you wouldn’t need me to fix everything.”

you narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your chest. “you know what, taehyun? i don’t need you for anything. i can handle it.”

“clearly,” taehyun said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the camera in your hands. “it’s not like you’ve gotten anywhere without my help.”

beomgyu, who had been sitting quietly nearby, smirked at the scene unfolding before him. “wow, so much tension. you two should really just admit it and get it over with.”

“what?” you and taehyun both said in unison, clearly not expecting that response.

“admit what?” you asked, your tone dripping with confusion and irritation.

“that you’re both clearly interested in each other but are too stubborn to admit it,” beomgyu said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as if he were just making an observation. “or is that just me?”

you and taehyun exchanged a sharp glance. “shut up, beomgyu,” you both muttered simultaneously.

“you know, you really should just get together already,” beomgyu teased, nudging yeonjun, who was seated next to him. “we can all tell there’s something between you two.”

yeonjun shrugged, his voice lighthearted. “yeah, it’s like watching a soap opera. seriously, just kiss already, save us the trouble.”

taehyun’s face turned red, and he stood up abruptly, his voice tight with frustration. “this is ridiculous.”

beomgyu snickered, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing. “what’s the matter, taehyun? you don’t like being called out on your crush? or maybe you don’t want her to know how pathetic you are?”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “pathetic? really? you’ve got some nerve.”

beomgyu gave you a playful glance, then turned back to taehyun. “yeah, taehyun, i thought you were the perfect guy. but here you are, avoiding the obvious.”

“shut up, beomgyu!” taehyun snapped, his face flushed with embarrassment. “this has nothing to do with that.”

“well, i thought you got close to her?” soobin called from across the room, smirking as he overheard. “wasn't that the plan? thought you two were getting along.”

taehyun’s gaze flickered toward you, where you were showing jongsung some of the photos you took two days ago. he clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing. “yeah, well, that didn’t exactly work out, did it?”

you glanced up just in time to catch the look he was giving you, and the frustration boiled up inside you. “no, because you made it not work,” you muttered under your breath.

“looks like jongsung’s getting a lot of your attention now,” soobin teased, nodding towards you and jongsung, who were laughing over a photo you’d taken. “what happened, taehyun? was she just another project for you?”

taehyun didn’t respond, but his hands balled into fists as he stared at you. “you call me pathetic, when you are one?” beomgyu suddenly added, leaning over the table and addressing both of you. “seriously, all of you are a mess. if you two keep playing these games, you’ll just end up hurting each other more than you already have.”

taehyun opened his mouth, ready to snap something back at beomgyu, but he stopped himself. instead, he just muttered something incoherent under his breath and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

the rest of the group fell silent, unsure of how to respond. beomgyu looked at yeonjun, who shrugged nonchalantly, and then they both turned to you.

“well, that was fun,” yeonjun said, smirking. “i guess we’re just waiting for the drama to unfold now.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “you guys have no idea what you're talking about.”

“really?” beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “because it’s obvious to everyone but you two.”

you glared at him, but instead of responding, you stood up, grabbed your camera, and left the room in silence. the last thing you needed was to be around anyone who thought they had all the answers. especially not when the one person who could make you feel like everything was normal again was making everything feel like a mess.

as you walked down the hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling that taehyun was the one person who had the power to make you feel completely insane, and yet, you still couldn’t get him out of your head.

it was a rare moment of peace in the student lounge when you found yourself there, trying to unwind after a long day. the soft hum of the air conditioning and the low chatter of students around you seemed like a world away, and for the first time in days, you thought maybe things would settle. but fate had other plans.

as you walked over to the coffee pot, ready to grab the last bit of the warm brew, you saw him there—taehyun, standing by the counter. the same, infuriatingly perfect taehyun who seemed to be everywhere you went lately. you didn't think much of it at first, just a simple coincidence, right?

but when you reached for the handle at the same time, your fingers brushed his.

you froze. something in the air shifted, thick with the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks. he didn't pull back, but neither did you. there was a beat of silence, and then you both tugged at the pot, trying to claim it for yourselves.

“do you always have to be around when something’s mine?” you snapped, your grip tightening on the coffee pot, as if the act of holding it would somehow give you control over the situation.

taehyun's eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. he said nothing for a moment, just studying you, before he finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with irritation. “what are you talking about? it’s just coffee.”

“yeah, well, it seems like everything is just yours lately,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your voice as you glared at him. “coffee, the spotlight, the club meetings—you name it.”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “are you seriously starting this again? you’re still on about that? we’re not in high school anymore.”

you stepped closer, your voice low but heated. “oh, I know,” you bit out, staring up at him, “but for some reason, every time things seem to get fine between us, you just pull away, like i’m not even worth your time anymore.”

taehyun's jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just walk away, but he didn't. instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice sharper than before. “you’ve always been the one who thinks everything’s a competition, haven’t you?”

your heart thudded in your chest, the frustration building with every word. “you’re one to talk,” you hissed, not backing down. “what, did you think i wouldn’t notice how you’ve been acting? pretending like i don’t exist when jongsung shows up? making me feel like i’m the one doing something wrong when you’re the one who changed.”

“don’t make this about me,” he said, voice cutting through the air like a knife, harsh and final. “maybe i’m just tired of dealing with you. maybe it’s you who’s making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“me?” you laughed bitterly, feeling the sting of his words like a slap. “are you seriously blaming me right now? you’re the one who keeps pushing me away every time we get close. every time Ii think we might actually be friends, you act like i’m nothing.”

taehyun's exhale was sharp, his hand rubbing his temples like he was trying to ward off a headache. "it’s not about you. i never said you were nothing. just... forget it, alright?"

“forget it?” you stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief. “do you hear yourself right now? you can’t just forget this. i’m not some passing thing for you to get over whenever you feel like it.”

his eyes flickered with something—was it guilt? regret? but then it was gone, replaced by that same hard, unreadable expression. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, voice low. “you never listen, always making everything into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

you felt your anger rise like a fire in your chest, the frustration boiling over. “you think I’m impossible? you’ve been shutting me out for weeks. so tell me—what is it, taehyun? are you mad because i’m spending time with jongsung? or is it something else?”

taehyun’s gaze darkened, and he took a step toward you, his presence suddenly overwhelming, dangerous even. “maybe I am mad,” he said, his voice rising now, each word coming out like a punch. “maybe I am jealous, okay? jealous of how easy it is for him to get close to you while i’m stuck pretending i don’t care.”

the silence that followed was deafening. the words hung in the air, thick and heavy.

“jealous?” you repeated, the laugh that escaped your lips was bitter, almost hollow. “you’re jealous? that’s why you’ve been acting like a jerk? are you seriously telling me that after all this time?”

taehyun’s face hardened, his eyes flashing with something raw. “yeah, that’s exactly what i’m saying. but you wouldn’t understand, would you?”

the sting of his words hit you harder than you expected. it was like a punch to the gut, making your breath catch in your throat. “so, this is how it ends, huh?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “we’re back to being enemies again.”

taehyun’s expression faltered for a moment, the walls he’d built up around himself cracking just slightly. he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply, looking almost defeated. “maybe. maybe this is just how it’s supposed to be.”

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest, the overwhelming weight of his words. shaking your head, you scoffed bitterly. “fine. if that’s what you want, taehyun. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the quiet lounge. each step felt like it was pulling you farther away from him—farther away from the mess you had both created. and yet, as you walked out of the room, the unspoken words between you felt like a knot in your throat, a weight that wouldn’t lift, no matter how far you went.

the tension in soobin’s room was palpable, like an invisible force pressing down on everyone. the soft hum of the television was the only sound that filled the space, but even that felt like an afterthought in the midst of the conversation.

“you're literally out of your mind,” beomgyu said, staring at taehyun like he'd just confessed to committing a crime. his voice was full of disbelief, the kind of tone you’d use to scold someone who’d done something completely irrational.

“you fucking idiot, you really said that?” yeonjun chimed in, shaking his head, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. he was slouched across soobin’s bed, his arms crossed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

soobin, who had been quieter than usual, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with an odd mix of sympathy and exasperation. “she's got a point for calling you a jerk.”

taehyun shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on the floor, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. the shame from the argument earlier that day was still fresh on him. but it wasn’t just that. there was a gnawing frustration, a feeling that he’d screwed up in a way that was far worse than any of them could understand. “yeah, well, i didn't mean to... it just... happened,” he muttered, sounding like he was trying to justify his actions, but knowing deep down that there was no excuse for how he'd handled things.

beomgyu, ever the blunt one, added, “you are so great when it comes to giving us advice, yet you messed up yours.” his tone was teasing, but there was a bite to it, like he was calling out taehyun for being the only one who couldn’t take his own damn advice.

taehyun ran a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. he sank into the chair by soobin’s desk, ignoring the way his friends were looking at him like he was an idiot. “i don’t know what happened,” he admitted, his voice quieter this time, almost to himself. “it’s just... she gets under my skin. i thought i could figure it out, but when I’m around her... everything just feels wrong. i don’t know how to make it right.”

the silence in the room grew heavier. soobin watched him for a moment before speaking, his usual calm demeanor now tinged with something else, something more serious. “you messed up big time, tyun,” he said softly. “but the thing is, you're not the only one who's made a mess of things. you’ve been too busy trying to play the role of the perfect guy—while you’ve been pushing her away. you can’t fix things if you don’t admit that you messed up.”

beomgyu snorted, “honestly, it’s like you’ve been waiting for someone to just shove a mirror in front of your face and make you see what you’ve been doing.”

taehyun froze. the words hit him harder than expected. that was exactly it. everything about you—your voice, your laugh, the way you challenged him, the way you got so damn close without even realizing it—it made him nervous in a way he couldn’t explain. but it wasn’t just nerves. it was this all-consuming feeling that made it impossible to ignore anymore.

he had tried to push you away, to bury the way you made his heart race when you were near. the way your scent lingered in his mind long after you left. the way you made him feel like a damn fool just because you existed.

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hands over his face. “i don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

yeonjun shrugged, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “maybe the first step is actually telling her how you feel. you never know—she might feel the same way. but you’re never going to know if you keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

taehyun let out a frustrated sigh. “yeah, well, it’s not that simple.”

soobin’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “maybe it’s not. but you’ll never get anywhere if you keep hiding behind all this... bullshit.” his eyes met taehyun’s, steady and unwavering. “just go talk to her, hyun. don’t let this be the thing you regret.”

taehyun slumped back in his chair, his thoughts swirling in a thousand different directions. how had everything gotten so complicated? why had he let it get this far?

he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. you were more than just a rival now—you were someone who made him feel things he couldn’t control. and he didn’t know what that meant, or what he was supposed to do about it, but he couldn’t keep running from it anymore.

“god, i’m an idiot,” he whispered to himself, the weight of his own words sinking in.

the days following taehyun’s breakdown were tense, to say the least. the atmosphere between him and you was thick with unspoken words, neither of you willing to take the first step. taehyun spent his time in a haze, going through the motions of class and meetings, but the weight of what he had said to you—the hurt in your eyes when he walked away—lingered like a bruise he couldn’t escape. every time he saw you, it felt like a reminder of how badly he’d screwed things up.

the student lounge, where everything had started, became a place he couldn’t bear to visit. every corner of the campus reminded him of the argument, the way you’d walked away, and the silence that followed. he couldn’t stand it.

but despite the tension, taehyun couldn’t bring himself to fix things. not yet. because to fix it, he’d have to admit something to himself that he wasn’t ready for. he had to admit that he liked you. more than just as a rival, more than as someone he wanted to beat or outshine. you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. you had made him nervous, made him feel things he couldn’t control. and that scared him more than he cared to admit.

meanwhile, you had thrown yourself into your work. school, student council meetings, and spending time with your friends were your distractions. but no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of taehyun kept creeping into your mind. his words—his confession of jealousy—kept replaying in your head, over and over. you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you knew. something was off between the two of you, and the longer you ignored it, the worse it became. you tried to push it away, but you knew there was only so much you could do before you would have to face it. face him.

it wasn’t until another council meeting that things finally came to a head.

the room was quieter than usual as the group discussed the upcoming project. taehyun sat across from you, his eyes flicking between the papers in front of him and you. it was impossible not to feel the tension between the two of you, even with beomgyu and yeonjun sitting beside him, laughing and chatting like everything was normal. but nothing felt normal. not anymore.

you could feel taehyun’s gaze on you, but you refused to look up. not yet. not until you were ready. you couldn’t help but think of how everything had gotten so complicated between the two of you. what had started as a simple rivalry had turned into something far messier than either of you had expected.

when the meeting ended, everyone started to pack up their things. taehyun lingered by the door, his eyes still on you. his jaw was tense, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to figure out how to approach you without sounding like an idiot.

you glanced up, catching his gaze for the briefest moment before quickly looking away. your heart was pounding in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. you couldn’t let him see how much he still affected you. not now.

“so,” taehyun began, his voice quiet but firm. “we need to talk.”

you stiffened, your body going rigid at his words. you knew this conversation was coming, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon. or maybe you had hoped it wouldn’t come at all. because deep down, you were scared. scared that the things you had been ignoring for so long would finally come to light and shatter everything.

you didn’t say anything at first, just nodded curtly and stood up from your seat. “we don’t have to talk. we’ve been through this already, taehyun.”

his brow furrowed, the frustration evident in his expression. “no. not like this. not like before. i—”

“you what?” you cut him off, finally meeting his gaze. your voice was sharp, but there was a tremor in it that betrayed your emotions. “you messed up, taehyun. you pushed me away when you should’ve said something. when you should’ve just... been honest.”

the words hung heavy in the air. you could see him struggling, his fingers twitching like he was trying to hold onto something, to make this right.

“yeah, I know,” he said, his voice low. “i know i messed up. but it’s not that simple. i didn’t... i didn’t mean for it to happen this way. i didn’t mean to push you away.”

you laughed bitterly, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “but you did. you’ve been doing it for weeks, taehyun. every time i thought we might actually get somewhere, you shut me out. and for what? because i spent time with jongsung?”

he flinched, and you saw the regret flicker in his eyes. “no, it’s not just that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s because every time you’re around, i... i get so damn nervous. it’s like everything about you drives me crazy in a way i can’t explain. I didn’t want to admit it, but i can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

you stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest. this was it. the truth you had been waiting to hear. but now that it was out in the open, you didn’t know how to respond. it was too much. too much to process all at once.

“you’re... you’re saying this now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

he nodded, taking a tentative step toward you. “yeah. i’ve been an idiot. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. i should’ve said something sooner. i just didn’t know how. i didn’t know how to handle it.”

there was a long silence between you two, a moment where neither of you knew what to do next. the world seemed to slow down, and everything else—the noise from outside the room, the bustling hallways—faded into the background. it was just the two of you, standing there in this charged space, both of you tangled up in feelings you didn’t know how to untangle.

finally, you broke the silence. “so, what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

taehyun’s gaze softened, and for the first time in weeks, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “i don’t know,” he admitted. “but i want to try. i want to fix this. i don’t want to keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”

you took a deep breath, your heart still racing as you considered his words. you had been so angry, so frustrated with him. but maybe, just maybe, this was the first step toward something better. something real.

“maybe we can start by being honest with each other,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. ”no more games. no more pretending. just... the truth.”

taehyun nodded, a small, uncertain smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah. that sounds good.”

but even as the words hung in the air, both of you knew that this wasn’t the end. not yet. the tension between you still simmered, the unresolved feelings still swirling in the space between you. but there was a shift. something had changed.

and in that moment, as taehyun took another step closer, his gaze locking with yours, you both realized that this wasn’t the easy solution. it wasn’t the perfect ending. but it was a start. a start to something neither of you had expected.

the future was uncertain, and there were still so many things left unsaid. but as you stood there, facing each other, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t finished with each other yet. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

the world outside the room continued to move, but for now, it didn’t matter. all that mattered was what happened next. what you and taehyun would do with the truth you had finally found.

and in the end, maybe that was the only thing you could control. the next step.

but where it would lead? neither of you knew.

“so…” you started, voice teasing, knowing exactly what you were doing to him. “you like me? like that much it makes you nervous?”

taehyun froze for a second, his eyes widening before he quickly caught himself. a soft laugh escaped his lips, but his eyes betrayed him—there was something deeper there, something that hadn’t changed, no matter how much time had passed.

“seriously?” he muttered, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “now of all times?”

you raised an eyebrow, taking a playful step closer. “oh, c’mon. you can’t expect me not to say it. after all these years… still makes you nervous, huh?”

taehyun leaned against the bar, eyes momentarily darting to the side before meeting your gaze again. “what do you want me to say? that you’re right?” his voice was light, but there was an undertone of something more—something familiar. something between you both that still hadn’t quite gone away.

you grinned, arms crossed. “honestly? yeah, i do. i mean, we’re not exactly strangers anymore. i think you can admit it now, don’t you?” you whispered, flashing the small diamond ring in your finger.

he rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips. “you’re insufferable, you know that?” he teased, the sarcasm not hiding the affection in his tone. “always making me feel like i’m still that guy from way back when.”

“and you’re still the same guy i thought was impossible to talk to. but hey, look at us now,” you said with a smile, stepping in just a bit closer. “you’re nervous, but you’re not running away. progress, huh?”

taehyun let out a low, defeated laugh, shaking his head again. “guess so. but don’t think i’m letting you win this one.”

“win? i thought we were past that.” you couldn’t hide the playful grin spreading across your face. “unless... you're saying you don’t still get nervous around me?”

taehyun’s gaze softened. “i never said that,” he admitted quietly, his voice lower now, more genuine. “i guess... i guess some things never change, huh?”

you felt your heart skip a beat at the shift in his tone. you weren’t sure where this new side of taehyun had come from, but you couldn’t deny how much you liked it. how much you liked him.

“maybe some things,” you said softly, meeting his gaze fully. “but i think we’re better now. less about the games and more about... figuring things out.”

taehyun leaned in just slightly, his voice almost a whisper. “yeah, maybe. you were right about one thing, though.”

you tilted your head, waiting for him to continue.

“you’ve definitely made me more nervous. more than i’d like to admit,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile.

before you could respond, yeonjun, ever the interrupter, appeared beside you, clapping a hand on taehyun’s shoulder.

“taehyun! stop avoiding me, man!” yeonjun grinned, clearly enjoying the moment.

you chuckled and pulled away, but not before giving taehyun a soft nudge. “guess i’ll leave you to your adoring kittens,” you teased, your voice playful. “i’ll just be with hana for a while,” you whispers planting a soft kiss on his cheeks.

taehyun returned to the table with the guys, his footsteps light but his mind still lingering on you. you were out chatting with some of the alumni club members, and for a brief moment, everything felt easy again. but then, the lights in the venue dimmed, the hum of conversation dying down into a quiet murmur. there was a noticeable shift in the air, the kind of tension that came just before something unforgettable was about to happen.

a scoff echoed from the stage, and the boys at the table exchanged knowing glances. they knew that sound all too well.

“he's really singing tonight?” soobin asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“what do we expect with our popstar,” yeonjun added with a laugh, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused by the sudden attention drawn to the stage.

meanwhile, hueningkai sat behind a guitar on the stage, his hands resting lightly on the instrument. he took a deep breath, steadying himself before he began to tune the strings. his gaze swept across the venue, his eyes searching the crowd for something, or rather, someone. when his eyes finally landed on you, there it was—the smile that never quite left his face whenever he saw you.

his fingers began to move on their own, slowly strumming the first notes of the song. as the melody registered in his ears, the memories came flooding back, just like they always did whenever he played this song. it was like a time machine—one strum of the guitar, and he was transported back to a moment, a memory that had been tucked away for so long.

gyo's note: finally, i’ve managed to post the taehyun update for the alumni homecoming. phew, schoolwork and hospital paperwork have been nonstop lately (yes, i’m a student nurse hehe). hopefully, once our finals and grand case presentation are done, i can get back to regular posting. i’ll also try to start writing the series i’ve been planning for yeonjun and soobin. stay tuned, okay? thank you for always waiting patiently. if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading. you will be loved, xoxo!

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