#thank you to all you wonderful people who helped
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falesten-iw · 3 days ago
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When I first joined Tumblr, I had no idea what I was walking into. There’s no manual for navigating this wild, untamed corner of the internet. My first moment here? I was greeted by an image completely naked, no warning, no explanation. It was just there, bold and unapologetic. That’s when I realized: Tumblr is a place where anything can happen.
But for all its chaos, Tumblr has become something far greater than I ever expected. For us Palestinians, this platform isn’t just a space to scroll through memes or vent about life. It’s a lifeline, a place where we’ve taken the raw, messy energy of this site and turned it into a battleground for survival. Here, we tell our stories, raise funds, and fight for our lives.
I’ve seen campaigns soar past their goals, bringing hope to families barely holding on. But I’ve also seen campaigns like mine, ones that fight tooth and nail for every single dollar, every reblog, every addition, and every ounce of hope. My family’s lives depend on this.
It hasn’t been easy. Zionists flood all Palestinian words with hate, twisting truths and spreading lies. They aim to discredit us, to make people doubt us. It’s exhausting. Some nights, I sit with my phone in my hands, wondering if this fight is too big for me. But then something beautiful happens: a donation comes through, a kind message appears, or someone I’ve never met reblogs my story with words that feel like a warm embrace.
And through it all, people are starting to see the truth. The hate doesn’t drown us; it sharpens our voices. Every day, more people step forward to stand with us, to say, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m with you.” It’s those moments that keep me going.
To everyone who has already helped, whether through verification, donating, wrting post , reblogging, or simply sharing a kind word: thank you. You’ve done more for my family than I could ever put into words. But the reality is, we’re not there yet. My family is still waiting for a chance to breathe, to live without fear, to fill their empty stomachs with warm food, and to wrap themselves in clothes thick enough to keep out the bitter cold. They’re hungry, they’re freezing, and I can’t do this alone.
This fight is hard, but it’s not hopeless. Strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Some of you have shown up in ways I never imagined, treating my family’s survival as if it were your own. That kind of solidarity? It’s powerful.
Tumblr might be chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright bizarre, but it’s also the place where we’ve built something extraordinary: a community that refuses to look away from injustice. With your help, we can take this fight all the way. My family’s lives are within reach, and together, I know we’ll get there.
This campaign isn’t just about me. It supports 26 people, including two orphaned children and an injured family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. Surgery is desperately needed to replace the infected and failing plates. The needs are urgent, and the future of 26 lives depends on your support.
The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.
Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
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dreamwritesimagines · 18 hours ago
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Sunshine [11] - Blast
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.
Word Count: 4244
CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
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The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.
When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.
Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.
“We have found the one.”
You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.
“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.
“Not for us!”
“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”
“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”
You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”
“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Our group chat.”
Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”
“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”
“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”
Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”
Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.
“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”
“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.
“I googled it.”
“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.
“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”
You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.
“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”
“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.
Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.
“Your coworker?”
“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”
“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”
“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not over Logan yet.”
“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”
“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”
You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.
“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”
“Deal.”
                                                 *
 One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.
Well.
Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.
But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.
You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…
You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.
“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”
You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.
Oh, he was already there.
If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.
However—
Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.
“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.
“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.
“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.
“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.
“I’m Hayes.”
You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”
Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.
“Uh, hi again.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”
“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”
“So have I.”
“Jamie showed it to you?”
“Technically no.”
You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”
“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”
You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”
“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”
A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”
“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”
You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.
“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”
“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.
“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”
“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”
“And walked in on her and my best friend.”
“Ouch.”
“Former best friend.”
“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”
“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”
Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”
“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”
“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”
“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.
“Hey, I talked about my ex.”
“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”
Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.
“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”
You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.
“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”
“I am,” he said. “And you?”
“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”
“Do you like where you work?”
“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”
A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”
You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”
He sipped his wine.
“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”
“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”
That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”
“Oh he still keeps those?”
“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”
“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”
“Really?”
“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.
“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.
Logan.
A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.
“Hello?”
There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.
“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”
Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”
“There was a small accident—”
“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”
“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”
You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.
“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”
“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”
“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”
“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”
“Sorry, again.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”
“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”
“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.
                                                 *
If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.
Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.
He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.
“Hey—”
“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.
“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”
When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.
“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.
 “We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”
“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”
You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”
Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.
“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”
“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.
“Bean?”
The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.
“Bean, are you there?”
“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.
“You think you can open the door?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”
“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”
“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”
“People will be angry at me.”
“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”
“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”
Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.
“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”
“You hear that, bean?”
“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.
“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”
“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”
A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.
“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”
“…No.”
Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.
“Theo.”
“I found him here and we’re friends now.”
“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”
“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.
“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”
There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.
“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”
Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”
“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.
“Yeah, him.”
Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.
“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”
                                                  *
Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.
There it was again.
Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.
You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.
 The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.
You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.
“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”
You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”
“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.
“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”
He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.
“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”
You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.
“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”
You smelt like—
Oh. Hayes had hugged you.
“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.
“He’s fine, princess.”
You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.
“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”
“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”
You took another sip of the whiskey.
“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”
You clicked your tongue.
“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.
“For now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”
“That’s not true.”
“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”
“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”
You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.
“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.
“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”
You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.
“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.
“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”
“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”
“I’m fine.”
“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.
“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”
You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”
Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.
Oh.
This. You were familiar with this.
You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—
Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.
“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.
“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.
“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”
The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.
“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.
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lovedrruunk · 1 day ago
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'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part ii]
When the mysterious new girl in town makes a lasting first impression, you make it your goal to befriend and welcome her to the town. [Part i] playlist!!!
self deprecating stalker jinx ill luv u 4eva & eva & eva...
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"Hey."
"Hi!"
“. . .”
“. . . ?”
“. . .”
“. . . ???”
You blinked, waiting for her to say literally anything else, but nope. Just “hey.” and now she was standing there, looking like she was on the verge of shitting her pants while you wondered if this was how all her conversations went.
Surprisingly you didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, more so confused. Looking around, your eyes landed on your old neighbor who’s own eyes were on the girl in front of you. He was giving her this look of judgment. It wasn’t obvious or harsh but it was still there. And then it clicked.
This was her.
The newcomer who moved into that old cottage on the outskirts of town. The one Mrs. Van Dee Kamp couldn’t stop speculating about, the one Mr. Gallagher said “looked like trouble”, and the same one you were so curious about. 
It wasn’t long before your group started to shuffle awkwardly, clearly ready to move on. They glanced at her, the kind of quick, hesitant looks people gave when they didn’t want to seem rude but also didn’t want to linger. One by one, they made their excuses, mumbling something about needing to get back to their stalls. They took a couple of steps away, looking back once they realized you weren’t following.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later!” you called, waving them off.
Turning back, you realized she was already staring at you, her wide pink eyes locked onto yours like you’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to.
“Hi!” you started... for the second time now.
“Uh… yeah.” she said, her voice flat as if responding to a completely different conversation.
Not exactly the warmest start, but you continued. “You’re new in town right? People have been talking, but you know, nothing bad! They’re just curious.”
Her eyes glanced left then right as you were talking, like she was scanning for an exit. “Yeah. New.”
You tilted your head. “Well, welcome. I’m–”
“Okay.” she cut you off, her tone abrupt.
“...Okay?” you repeated, blinking.
“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”
Before you could say another word, she spun on her heel and started walking… no, speed-walking, towards the dirt path that lead into the forest.
You stood there, frozen, your brain scrambling to process what had just happened. Did she seriously just… run away? Mid-conversation?
It took you a solid few seconds to realize your jaw was hanging open. Shutting it quickly, you looked around, half expecting someone to jump out with a camera and tell you that you that it was a prank.
But no. The mysterious girl who had everyone talking had just bolted, leaving you standing there like an idiot.
And for some reason, instead of being offended, you couldn’t help but laugh.
Who was she? And what kind of person walked away from a perfectly normal greeting? Mind you, a greeting she had started. You didn’t know why, but suddenly, you were dying to find out.
. . .
This feeling wasn’t technically new.
For weeks, you’d felt it, that weird sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. At first, it had been easy to ignore. You told yourself it was just your brain playing tricks. It was harmless. Whatever.
But now? Not so much.
The feeling wasn’t just there when you stood still like it was before, it followed you now. Around the market, down quiet streets, even when you stopped to chat with neighbors. You’d catch glimpses, a blur of blue hair disappearing behind a corner, the faintest sound of boots on the gravel.
More than once, you were so sure you’d catch them. You’d spin around at the sound of a shuffle or a shadow that felt too close. But by the time you looked? Nothing. Just an empty alley or a completely innocent looking street lamp.
It was driving you nuts.
You didn’t have to guess who it was either. You knew it was her. The girl from the square, Powder, or whatever her name really was. The way she’d bolted last time you tried to talk to her? That had to mean something.
Now it wasn’t just about being watched. It was about her. What was her deal? Why was she sneaking around? Why couldn’t she just talk to you?
You're own feelings about the situation were confusing you. You didn't necessarily... mind it. Unlike the other townsfolk, you didn't see her as a threat. She didn't seem like the type who would go out of her way to harm you. So 'why' was the question, and you were determined to figure it out.
Every time you caught a glimpse of her, something tugged at you. It wasn’t just the mystery of it all, though that was definitely part of it. There was something about her, it's like she didn't want to be seen yet wanted all of your attention.
And you wanted to know why. Why so secluded? Why so interested in your mundane countryside life?
It wasn’t like the townsfolk were any help either. They whispered about her, sure, 'the new girl with the blue hair and the weird vibes' but that’s all they did. Whispers. Speculation. None of them had actually tried to get to know her as far as you could tell.
Which left it to you.
The more you thought about it, the more determined you got. You didn’t want to believe she was some big, bad menace just because she didn’t fit into their little box of what people here were 'supposed' to be like. She was human, and just as deserving of a community as anyone else. So, yeah, you had questions.
And, apparently, she had no intention of giving you any answers.
It was almost funny how good she was at avoiding you. You’d be walking down the street, sure you'd spotted her near the bakery, and then poof. Gone. Like she had been a figment of your imagination. It was starting to feel like a game, except you knew something she didn't. How to cheat.
. . .
“Alright, I know you’re in there!” you yelled, leaning closer to the door as your fist continued to bang on the wood. “You can’t hide forever!”
Silence.
You squinted at the cottage, the place looked... interesting. It was still that run down creepy cottage you remembered always seeing whenever you passed by, but it was strangely... lively. Big scraps of metal and parts outside, colorful flowers (although wilted), and colorful graffiti that seemed to cover every side.
Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you knocked again harder, this time raising your voice. “I’m not leaving until you open this door!”
Still nothing.
“Powder! Or... whatever your name is!” you shouted, hoping the use of her name might get a reaction.
From inside, you swore you heard a faint creak. A floorboard, maybe? It was hard to tell over the sound of your heart hammering in your ears. You leaned forward, pressing your ear to the door.
“I can hear you in there, you know.” you tried, softening your tone just a bit, stepping back from the door. “I’m not mad or anything. I just want to talk! That’s all.”
The silence that followed felt even more deafening than before. For a second, you wondered if you’d imagined the sound altogether.
And then, just as you were about to knock again, the door creaked open.
Barely.
A narrow space, enough for one pink eye to peek through.
“What do you want?” came a voice.
It wasn’t hostile exactly, but it wasn’t friendly either. Cautious. Suspicious.
You blinked, caught off guard by just how intense her gaze was up close.
“Uh, hi?” you started, scrambling for words that didn’t sound totally ridiculous. “We’ve been running into each other a lot lately- well, okay, more like you’ve been running away- but I just wanted to…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t actually planned this far ahead.
Her eye narrowed slightly, not moving to open the door any wider.
“...check in?” you finally finished, wincing at your own words.
The door inched shut a little more.
“Wait, wait!” you said frantically as you held up your hands.
“I mean it! No tricks, no weird town gossip or whatever. I just… I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we maybe start over? I'd love to be friends.”
Her eye flicked to your hands, then back to your face. For a moment, you thought she was actually gonna let you in.
Instead, she sighed. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
Her voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret? Fear?
“Why not?” you asked gently, lowering your hands.
But she didn’t answer, instead she gave you this long silent look. And just as you were about to speak up again, the door shut and the bolt slid into place.
“Well, okay then.”
. . .
when i talk abt the town pls imagine a Minecraft village or something of the sort ...
this chapter was SOOOO SELF DIVULGENT btw lololol was totally laughing my ass off writing it. I hope the difference in the way i write their povs is noticeable!!! also its 2am rn ill make sure to proof read in the morning... maybe...
part 3 sometime this week probs! it'll go back to being in pows pov ≽^•⩊•^≼˚
notes r appreciated & thx 4 reading as aaalways XOXOXOXO
[Teensy taglist (ˊᗜˋ)]
@cattjull @kenqki @powderbomb-jinxed
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cheyisagirlkisser · 12 hours ago
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can you write a pit fighter vi smut fic where the reader works at a restaurant in zaun and vi comes in drunk and starts flirting with her pretty please 😼
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Thank you sm for the request:3 hope you enjoy!
Content: 1.5k words, dub-con (Vi is drunk), casual sex, use of strap-ons (r! recieving), oral sex (r! receiving), slight overstimulation, this is rlly filthy blame anonymous for giving me the ammo to write this
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Your hands are busy with several plates and your feet are sore in your shoes. Customers in Zaun have no decorum, either!
Being a waitress is not fun, especially not in a dingy restaurant like "The Sludge Pit." It's where most people are coming back from watching fights next door and want a cheap meal. To say that you hate you job is an understatement. But...money is tight, so choices are limited. It could be worse. You could be a prostitute at Babette's.
You've heard rumors that the fight tonight is going to be huge. There's a recently been a new fighter people have been placing bets on - a girl named Vi. You've heard the name before, of course. Jinx's sister, someone who was involved with a Piltie girl. You hated to get involved with all of the drama in Piltover, though; it was all meaningless. It was all just pointless drama that ended in another person in Zaun getting the short end of the stick or dead without a proper burial. Whatever happened was so hard to care about when it felt like an everyday thing.
However, something about the girl you've been hearing rumors about intrigued you. It is apparently often that this Vi chick is bulldozing men in the ring, getting drunk off her ass, and fucking Babette's whores. She got her heart broken, now she's all bitter, and you can't help but wonder what this girl is even like. What could she possibly be like when she's this well-known in the under-city?
It's around midnight. The fight is over because a huge crowd is occupying The Sludge Pit. You've got your poor hands full, tasked with scribbling down rude men's orders and serving them. Some are fucking creepy, too. You wonder if the Vi girl will be coming in tonight, but your curiosity is suddenly dashed when you hear the restaurant BOOMING with cheers from the main area.
When you walk out of kitchen, the first thing you see is the back left table seated with a black-haired girl. She's got no shirt on, just bandages that hug her body and a leather jacket. Her jeans are tightly fitted, sculpted onto her meaty things. The black pigment on her face is all messy. Next to her is a burly brunette man, facial hair covering most of his face. You've seen him before - "Loris."
When you approach Vi's table, she looks up at you and lets out a slight laugh. You look devourable, your hair back in two braids, fly-aways from the day's work. Your eyes are wide, and you look pretty terrified. Poor waitress. She's already decided that you're gonna be her next slut.
"Hi! I'll be your waitress today, what can I get for you-" Your voice is so shaky, oh fuck.
Usually, Vi wouldn't be so forward, but she just got back from the bar. There's too much liquid courage in her system, so now she's gonna get what she wants.
"Don't worry 'bout me, baby. Get my friend Loris here a burger."
You almost choke on your own spit.
Her voice isn't at all what you expected, not raspy or deep, but actually soft and persuasive. She's slurring her words slightly, but you're too focused on her eyes, the soft blue sparkle in them and the half-lidded, carefree look that is complimentary.
"Uhhh, okay! One burger coming right up!"
You soon come back with a shaky hand, plate in your palm. You set the burger down and look up down, adjusting your waitress skirt.
"One burger!"
Vi gives you a wide, lazy smile. Loris is just laughing, he's probably as drunk as her.
"Thanks, baby. How much will that be?"
"Ohhh....well, it's on the house. Since you won tonight, and all.." All rationale seems to leave you when Vi's calling you baby. Your boss is gonna chew you out for this, but the drunken giggle that leaves her mouth is so worth it.
"On the house? No, baby..c'mon, lemme pay."
You laugh and blow a stray strand of hair out out of your face. Her voice makes you imagine her throwing you around on your bed. "No, really, it's fine.."
"Hm..well, if you're not gonna let me use my money, why don't I pay you back in some other way?"
You stare at her for a second.
"What...?"
She chuckles at the cute but shocked look on your face. "Seriously. I wanna pay you back for the burger, since you're such a cute little waitress.."
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She's got you in her twin-sized bed as she pounds into you at a pace you're surprised doesn't break the bed. You look utterly cock-drunk underneath her as her hips slam into yours: eyes practically rolled back into your noggin, whining on each and every thrust she gives your sopping pussy. Fuck, she's already obsessed with you.
Her hands are holding the back of your knees to keep you in position, and she pulls the cock halfway out of your pussy and slams back in, earning herself a wounded squeal from you.
"That's it, baby. Take all of my cock like a good girl," she coos, her eyes moving down to watch the hot-pink silicone disappear in your pretty pussy, and she's almost drooling at the sight.
"P-Please!! Please fuck me, oh my god!" You're screaming for her (soon you'll be creaming), and all Vi can think is how she wants to lick the cum out of your pussy when she's done plowing into you.
She laughs and spreads you legs back so she can hitch them around her own waist, still throwing sloppy thrusts into you. Your legs automatically wrap around her sides and she collapses onto your body, mouth wet and lazy on your throat. She's hardly thrusting now, just grinding up into your cunt like a dog in heat.
"Ohhh, fuckkk...this is the best pussy I've had in so fucking long, did you know that?" She's whimpering like she's not the one slinging strap..
You can't even answer with a proper response, only offering up a broken moan because in this position, the cockhead of the toy is bullying your sweet, spongey spot and making you see stars. By grinding into you, the base of the harness is catching on Vi's clit perfectly, making her her pace grow less and less composed She's fucking you like a touch deprived cave-man, for fuck's sake.
You hear feel her body tense up, and now she's pounding into you, each time your skin connects her body is pressing further into your, grinding her pussy against the harness, making you whine her name.
"You want me to cum inside you, huh? I bet you'd just love that. Wish I actually could cum inside this sweet little pussy." Her words grow more and more deranged the longer she's fucking you, and they send you right over the edge with a gasp and a cry out. For mercy, or for bliss, she isn't able to tell.
You poor legs are shaking around her waist and your voice is chanting her name like a prayer along with cute little cries of "I'm cumming for you, Violet!!" You indeed did cum, your face all flushed and your hips bucking up into hers, making her own cunt clench with need as she hits her own peak. She kisses you to swallow your sweet whines, tongue sliding against yours so you can taste the Vodka on it. She's just rutting into your pussy, and she swears she can feel your walls milking her cock like it's real. The alcohol in her system really does make her delusional.
When she's done, she pulls out of you and throws the strap-on somewhere in the floor, immediately moving down your body to suck the cum out of your tender hole.
You whine and protest, "V-Vi!! Too sensitive!"
She moves her lips to give your clit a firm suck and holds you legs open, "shh, just need to clean you up first.."
Her tongue moves to fuck your pussy as deeply as it can, filling you with the hot, wet muscle, and grazing your overstimulated g-spot until you're begging for mercy and she relented to go swirl around your previously neglected clit.
Her hands are groping your tits, your own tugging at her shitty dye-job as you buck your hips up in the air for more. She doesn't stop, giving you exactly what you want, sucking at your engorged clit and flicking it shamelessly with her tongue.
"Fuckk, V-Vi!! I'm gonna cum again!!"
Your juices paint her face so perfectly, mixing in with her black make-up and making an even bigger mess of your sopping cunt. She pulls back to see your face all red, soft little pants leaving your lips, and your chest heaving like you just ran a marathon. You look perfectly ruined, your hole still wrecked from the cock she fucked you with and your braids messed up into oblivion, but you look satisfied. She really paid you back for that burger, didn't she?
Safe to say, The Sludge Pit is her favorite place to find a meal at.
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gyorouis · 3 days ago
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𐙚 CHARMED & TWISTED - KTH.
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— 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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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“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!
✮ 2024 gyorouis, all rights reserved.
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elizabethemerald · 2 days ago
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The Infiltration
The Beginning of the New Pantheon
Masterpost
Donna Troy dialed a familiar number as she flew through the air from Mount Olympus. She could feel the weight of her coming responsibilities on her shoulders already. Zeus had chosen her to be Queen of the New Olympians. She would need a whole freak out later, but for now, she had to inform the others. 
“This is Nightwing.” Dick’s voice came through her comm, calm, curt, and ready for any crisis. Just what she needed. 
“Hey Boy Wonder.” Donna said.
“I get the feeling this isn’t a social call.” 
“Unfortunately no. I’m going to send you a list of junior leaguers, can you make sure they are waiting for me at Titans Tower? Along with any of you bats that are free.” 
“Of course, Donna. Does this have anything to do with the emergency meeting Diana just called with the rest of the League?” 
“It sure does.” 
“Got it. What should I tell the others? What should I be ready for?” 
Donna took a moment to think through what she thought would happen and how the others would react. 
“Tell your birds to polish their batarangs and prepare for an uncertain diplomatic situation.”
“Got it. I’ll round up the others and meet you at the Tower.” 
“Thanks.” Donna almost ended the call, but stopped. “And Nightwing?” 
“Yeah?” His voice was half distracted as he sought out where the other bats were currently. 
“I’m going to need your help to keep them all from falling apart.” 
“Don’t worry Donna. I’ve got your back.” 
.
Cassie was baffled by her mission. How was it that there was a group of heroes that had flown completely under the radar of the Justice League, yet had somehow earned the respect of the Olympians? Her list had a bunch of different names on it, but all had the same location. She had looked up the names in the JL systems as she flew from Olympus to the middle of nowhere Illinois. None of the people were in the database. Red Robin would be pissed if he knew. 
Even more concerning was the fact that there wasn’t even a town listed at the coordinates. Batman insisted that the League had the best satellites with the best cameras and there was nothing in the area. There weren’t even any JL calls! If there were a bunch of heroes who had been facing things that had been known to the Olympians, there should have been some calls from civilians for help right? 
She was really hoping this wasn’t some kind of weird murder-cult or unsanctioned government organization. She hated dealing with those, and for now she would be on her own. Young Justice got up to a lot of weird stuff that didn’t make it into the League reports, especially under Red Robin’s leadership, and this might top all the rest. 
Cassie landed just on the outskirts of what appeared to be a regular suburban town. Her eyebrows rose at the sign that welcomed her to Amity Park. Underneath the city’s name had previously been an older town slogan, she could still read the faded letters even though the words themselves had been removed, “The Most Haunted City in the US!” Over those faded marks was a new slogan, “A Place to Live.” Clearly the slogan had changed recently, with a real half-assed effort. 
Over top the new slogan was some graffiti in a neon green spray paint that crossed out the other words and said, “Welcome to Hell.” She supposed it only made sense for someone who would replace Hades as the lord of the Underworld to live in a place like this. She sighed to herself, switched her uniform to her more stealth focused look and crept past the city limits. 
Her feelings of concern grew when she saw what was clearly a government blockade stretching across the road into the rest of the city proper. Multiple all white vans blocked all out going traffic and the in going road was limited to a single lane. She could make out multiple government goons in tacky white suits carrying all manner of glowing green weapons; blasters, rifles, even what looked like a bazooka. 
A fence extended from the blockade and seemed to wrap around the entire city. The fence was topped with barbed wire and had strange sensors every few yards. She pulled a few wires, and connected them to the small palm computer she carried with her equipment. She might not be as techy as Red Robin and Impulse were, but she was better than Superboy, and Red Robin made sure they were all equipped to handle the basics of infiltration and espionage. 
Whatever the sensors were searching for, and it wasn’t movement, heat, radiation or anything else she could figure out on her own, they also didn’t detect her. There didn’t appear to be any cameras that she could see, so the goons were solely dependent on these sensors. This was becoming even more of a mystery, and she hadn’t even found Phantom yet. 
Cassie lifted off, flying easily over the fence to land on the other side. Both the goons at the gate and the sensors were aimed at the sky, so she had to imagine that whatever they were trying to contain was a known flier. Even if the sensors couldn’t detect her, she would have an easier time avoiding problems on the ground even if it would take longer to get around. 
She walked quickly into the mid-sized town from the outskirts and her concerns only grew. There were hardly any cars on the roads, which made perfect sense considering the road was pocked with massive craters like the town had been bombarded by meteors. The few citizens she could see hurried by as if afraid to be caught out on the streets. 
This was a city under siege, but from what? 
Also, why hadn’t the Justice League been called? 
Cassie had a bad feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer to either of those questions. 
She hurried through, her eyes peeled for any threat, as well as on the look out for the mysterious Phantom she was supposed to be making contact with. There were stores boarded up, more sensors along with loud speakers on tall poles, and posters warning the populace about a curfew. 
Cassie ducked into an alley at the sound of squealing tires. Her eyes just about bugged out of her head as a silver tank, with that same neon green detailing barreled around the corner. It took out a stop light, then without stopping carried on down to the other end of the street. The tank had what  she could only describe as a cannon on its roof, that same eerie green glow to it. 
She had fought alongside Superboy often enough that her first thought was Kryptonite, but unless there were somehow an entire city of secret Kryptonians, it didn’t make sense for them to carry weapons specifically against the Supers. She leaned out into the street to see if she could see which way it was going, or if there was any sign of what a tank like that was needed for. 
“Hey! Get out of the streets!” A voice hissed to her from the opposite alley way. 
Cassie whipped her head up. There in the opposite alley were two teenagers, desperately waving her over. She double checked that the tank had turned the corner and wasn’t in sight and she ran across to them. They pulled her away from the street into the back alley behind one of the businesses. 
She looked the two of them over once they were no longer moving. The girl was goth, with dark hair, pale skin, a leather jacket, and backpack with several plants hanging out of it. Cassie thought she might get along very well with Raven. The boy had dark skin, a ratty and stained beanie and the oldest PDA she had ever seen even if it looked modded to Hades and back. He would probably get along entirely too well with Red Robin. She would have to keep the two of them apart. 
The boy was watching back the way they had come, his PDA in his hand as he checked for any followers. The girl was watching with Cassie with the same examining glare she was used to from Batman. 
“What are you doing?” The girl snapped her question out. “We told all teenagers to stay off the streets. It's not safe with the GIW on patrol!” 
Cassie ratcheted up her mental alarm scale quite a bit. This whole town already had so many red flags it looked like a ski slope, and now she was adding even more. She set her feet and squared her shoulders. She was a member of Young Justice. She wasn’t going to let this happen. 
“I need you two to tell me everything you know. I’m called Wonder Girl and I’m with the Justice League and I’m here to help.” Cassie said, using her “Daughter of Zeus” voice that she reserved for during a crisis. Impulse always said he could hear thunder in her voice when she did that. 
“What’s the Justice League?” The boy asked, and Cassie was knocked onto her back foot. She had purposely said the main League because people sometimes looked down on YJ and TT because they were kids, but how could someone not even know about the Justice League? They were in the news almost every day for one reason or another. 
“Uh, the Justice League is a group of heroes that protect Earth? They’ve fought off alien invasions and saved lives and things like that? Because of my strength I usually help fight off meta humans who want to conquer the world or steal stuff.” 
The two teens looked completely baffled and Cassie just gave up trying to catalog the red flags in this town and just marked the whole thing as FUBAR. She would probably need the help of the rest of Young Justice to get this sorted, or maybe even the full League. 
“Well, ‘Wonder Girl’ my name’s Sam and-”
“Wait, Samantha Manson?” Cassie ignored the implied finger quotes around her hero name in her excitement that she may have just found one of the people she was looking for. 
“My name is Sam.” Sam snapped. 
Cassie ignored her clear irritation and unrolled the scroll she had been given, ice and frost cracking and flaking off as she did so. If Sam Manson was here, it made sense that she would know the other heroes the Olympians were looking for. Cassie closely examined the list she had before looking up at the boy. He didn’t look like a Jazz, or Danielle, he might be a Dan or Phantom himself, but considering his collection of tech she could see, she had a good guess of who he could be. 
“And that means, you must be Tucker Foley!” Cassie said triumphantly. 
Both of the teens now looked at her with even more wariness than before. That made sense considering what Cassie had seen, but she now had part of her mission objective in front of her. She dismissed the stealth mode on her costume, flicked her wrist to unfurl her lightning lasso and allowed some of her ‘demi-god aura’ out. 
“I am from the Justice League, and I am a hero, but I am also a daughter of Zeus, and I have been sent here on a mission from Olympus to summon the heroes of this town to come to our aid. It is only right that I assist you in any way I can from the troubles you currently face.” 
“What?” “What?”
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rootspiral · 3 days ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1])
(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)
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agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be
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not that she cares about you or anything.
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billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.
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agatha never lies to billy
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and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time
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I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.
Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.
The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even truer for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.
and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.
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billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.
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aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?
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oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck
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rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.
and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity
and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.
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a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit
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and she's gone. her puzzled little face!
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from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.
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look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy
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and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.
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alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again
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agatha picks up rio's flower
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rio looks at her
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pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back
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you could cut the damn tension with a knife
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jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr
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look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes
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agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.
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what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???
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agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!
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behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'
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oh rio's DETERMINED
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'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS
agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body
just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.
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lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.
and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7
LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)
go to episode 4 part 7
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demonic0angel · 16 hours ago
Note
Danny and Cass are expecting a baby, but Danny is the one holding the child.
(Oddly enough, I hc this bc I think Danny is trans and I 100% believe that he’d be the one to incubate the child while his partner goes off being a hero.)
Cass entered their home, pausing at the door. The air was silent, but she relaxed as she heard the softest breaths of her husband. She closed the door, took off her shoes, and then quickly crossed the house to get to their room, where she opened the door and found her husband laying on his side, curling around himself.
She gently laid a hand on his stomach, where she could feel nothing but flat planes and muscle. Quieting her breathing, she focused and tried to sense deeper inside of him.
She wasn't as proficient as Jason or Damian, and she couldn't teach herself like Tim, but she knew how to sense for the souls inside of her husband, and she focused on them, trying to feel for their child.
And then—
She paused. She looked down and met eyes with Danny, who stared at her in silence. His eyes glowed green in the dark and she said softly, "Something's wrong."
Danny smiled and sat up, leaning against her. "No, there's nothing wrong. Try feeling them again."
Cass did so, and she said, "Thank you for doing this. I know it's hard."
"This is nothing," Danny said, kissing her on the temple. "I have no issues with incubating our baby while you have your hands full being Batman. Besides, Jazz and Jason have been helping me, and even Dan and Ellie are as well. I'm perfectly fine."
Cass nuzzled him, her heart warming. She had seen how being a hero could affect relationships with a partner, and she had worried about it when she had discussed having a child with Danny, but he had not been concerned at all. They had talked and communicated and Danny had no problem putting his hero life on a hold while he took care of their unborn child. She had also known that her family faced the same problems, but their spouses, Danny's siblings, had quickly eased their concerns and solved the problem.
She was so thankful that she and her family had been found and loved by such a wonderful group of people.
Cass paused again, as she felt the souls inside of Danny move. It was like a humming of a tiny song, but there seemed to be... two of them?
"Is that...?"
Danny smiled and kissed her again. "You're in luck," he purred. "Jazz says we're both getting twins."
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kivishipps · 2 days ago
Text
x OC fics ≠ x reader fics
Okay guys, I’ve given the gentle reminder as many times as I can without seeming passive aggressive, as a result this is your not-so gentle reminder. Stop tagging your x OC works as x reader for the love of all that is divine. This isn’t a threat, it’s not some long article about how you’re a deadbeat or whatever; The simple fact of the matter is the tagging system was created to help readers find EXACTLY what they are looking for with [relative]ease, and that can’t be if YOU are making them sift through content that has fuck all to do with what they are looking for.
Now there are a couple of assumptions I’ve made seeing some of you guys’ posts. Most of them fall under the writer being insecure and thinking their work will not be seen if they don’t use the x reader tag and I am here to tell you that is simply untrue. I know plenty of people who actively seek out x OC works, and while I am not among them as being called by the name of someone I am obviously not in fiction breaks the immersion for me, this should NOT discourage you from being transparent in your posting.
“It’s called block and move on.” No, it’s called be a good human being and stop evading responsibility for a messy system that doesn’t HAVE to be messy, and thus is so only because you’re making it that way. You are not a singular. There are other people JUST like you doing the same thing further perpetuating the convoluted channels.
Overlooking how self serving it is, it’s also very inconsiderate concerning people that simply struggle to find stories in some already dead or dying fandom. You have no reason to tag it as an x reader unless it is, an x reader.
It’s obnoxious, and frankly, rude.
Again, I’ve given a couple of gentle reminders already but some of you are failing to respond so allow me to put it in words geared more for… I don’t know, hardier audiences I suppose. As always thank you for your time and I hope you have an absolutely wonderful rest of your day[genuine].
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marvelwitchergilmore · 14 hours ago
Text
Secret Kindness
Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> It's no secret Joel Miller could be an asshole, but it was a secret that that wasn't all he could be.
Disclaimer: I haven't finished my re-watch but I wanted to write something for him. Kinda friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, descriptions of scars, bruises, cleaning wounds, kinda a 'who did this to you?' trope. Swearing, light spoilers for Field of Dreams? Fluff. Not Proof Read.
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It was no secret that Joel Miller could be an asshole. 
From the unspoken stories from his brother, to his treatment of people in general; untrusting, strong dislike, to simply his responses when talking to people. Mostly it was in grunts or short sentences. 
Except, for some reason nobody else could see that Joel wasn’t just an asshole. He could be kind, funny, and deeply caring. That was something you had known from the minute you’d seen him. 
Having arrived in Jackson a month or so after the winter, you had heard stories about Tommy Miller’s brother Joel. Most people called him an ass – never truly giving a reason why. But when he walked back into town with who you presumed to be his daughter with him, you saw there and then a side to Joel Miller that nobody cared to mention. 
How he constantly looked around for the girl, watched her every move in fear she might get hurt. How his hand came to her shoulders, leading her away from looking at the group of people staring at them and towards the bar where Tommy had just walked out from. 
And over the following weeks, you saw small parts of Joel that you felt nobody else had even cared to see. He helped Tommy where he could, and helped others where they’d let him. A couple of times you’d see Ellie – having met her briefly one afternoon when she was sat with Tommy as he tried to fix a toaster – struggling with her homework, only to turn to the one man who a lot of people were afraid of in town. With a calm nod, he’d walk over and help her. 
Then you finally met him. 
Usually, you were on patrol in the afternoons, taking over after Joel’s detail. Except, with one of theirs getting sick, you offered to cover. The other’s didn’t want to pair off with Joel because of their preconceived notions of him, or were more than eager to do so, which made Joel slightly uncomfortable. 
So, when you called out to be paired with him, he agreed. Though, neither of you missed the looks two of the women in the team gave you as you walked past them and followed Joel. 
That was the day you became friends with Joel. 
“You know, if it makes you that uncomfortable, I can make a swap with one of them. Just because the world went to shit doesn’t mean someone should feel like it.”
Joel thanked you and, although he never gave an actual answer to your offer, part of him was pleased to see you in detail regularly. 
Over the following weeks, you got to know more about him. About Ellie. About Tommy. About his life before Jackson. And he got to know yours. 
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.” Joel suddenly said to you one day. 
You’d both been walking the grounds around the town and found yourselves looking over and in behind the wooden posts. People were mostly going about their day, working or playing. 
“Right thing about what?”
“With Ellie. She’s just a kid and she’s already seen so much. She deserves a normal life.”
“She has a normal life, Joel. As normal as it can get these days. And that’s because you gave it to her.”
“Did I, though? Y/n, she hadn’t even seen a car before we hit the road.”
With a small sigh, you walked a little further up and met Joel where he stood. “If you’re that worried about her, show her something. Teach her something. A life skill that isn’t about survival.”
“Like what?”
You shrugged and looked back over the town. There has to be something. 
“Do you know how to play the guitar?” You asked after a moment, turning back to him. 
He nodded. “Use to.”
“Well, I’ve got a guitar in my house. Found it when I was rummaging through the attic. Teach her how to play the guitar.”
You walked away and a little further through the trees, Joel quickly followed after you. “I don’t know any songs.”
“I’ve got a guitar. There’s gotta be song books somewhere in that attic. We can look when we get back into town.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“Then…make one up? It’ll be like riding a bike. Trust me.”
“Trust me.” Joel repeated. “Trust me, she says. Have you ever even played the guitar?”
You let out a small laugh. “Once. I wasn’t very good though.”
A few hours later, yourself and Joel were standing inside your house at the bottom of your attic ladders. 
“After you.” 
You stood so far away from the steps, Joel already had a feeling he knew what would be awaiting him. 
“There a reason I’m going first?” He asked, already halfway up the ladders. 
“No…”
He looked down at where you were standing; holding the ladder steady. “Okay, maybe. I found the guitar and then a massive spider. It ran away quickly. I couldn’t find it so that room is now his.”
Joel’s boots hit the floor of the attic and after a few minutes you heard a stomp before he called down to you. “Spider’s dead. You’re safe.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Walking up the ladders, you peaked your head over the edge of the floor before taking a look around. The coast was clear. And for the next twenty minutes, you and Joel rummaged through a couple of different boxes until you both found what you were looking for, including some extra things.
“Watch your step.” Joel stood behind you a little as you climbed down the last couple of steps, the heat of his hand warming your hip before he stepped around you and pushed the ladder back up into the door, closing the hatch. 
Carrying the case of books down, you followed Joel with the box of clothes that you’d deemed salvageable. 
“Thanks, for your help.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Joel nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Just before you closed the door, you called out for him. “Joel?”
He turned around. 
“You’re a good dad. And Ellie’s a good kid. You’re doing a good job.” 
He didn’t know what to say, feeling grateful if a little awkward and unsure of himself. Looking at you from the path to your home, he wanted to walk back and…hug you? He wasn’t too sure. So, with a low nod, he gave you a brief smile before he thanked you once more and headed back home. 
As the next day came into view, Joel was rushing around the kitchen since he’d missed his alarm leaving Ellie to pound her fist on his bedroom door. 
“Done your homework?”
“We don’t have homework this week.” Ellie told him as she took another stab at her eggs. “Were you meant to see Y/n this morning?”
Joel shook his head, pulling the hot toast from his toaster before reaching for the butter knife. “Don’t think so. Why?”
“Because she’s at the door.”
A knock came less than a second later and Ellie watched as Joel became something more than just flustered. “Uhhh.”
“Want me to get it?”
“Go ahead.” He reached into the cupboard above his head and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. 
As Ellie answered the door and let you inside, letting you follow her through the house towards the kitchen, Ellie didn’t miss how neater the kitchen looked since she left. 
And she didn’t miss how Joel’s hair had gone from sticking out in most places and his shirt being buttoned wrong, to being neat and tidy. 
“Y/n’s here.”
“Hey,” Joel practically breathed out. “Were we meant to meet-”
You shook your head. “No, don’t worry. I just…” You held out the pile of clothes in your hands. “I found some more clothes last night after you left. And considering they won’t fit me, I figured you might want them. I’ve dropped some into town already but I saved these in case you needed some.”
“He does.”
“Ellie.”
“What?”
Joel looked back at you. “Thank you. That’s, uhh, that’s nice. Thanks.”
With a little awkward nod, you placed them on the kitchen table where Ellie took one from the pile and held it up. It didn’t seem like it would fit Joel. 
“There’s some there for you, too,” you told her. 
“Thanks.” 
A moment of silence settled over the kitchen before Joel’s mind was kicked back into reality. “Right, you’re gonna be late. Have you got your-”
“Lunch, books, jacket.” Ellie sounded off. 
It seemed like the list was a ritual. 
“I’ve got it all now let’s go.”
You followed Joel and Ellie out of their house and through the town, Joel walking Ellie to school before he made his way further down the road and towards the stables. 
It was your day to clean out their stables and since Joel was on construction, he’d offered to be the one to help fix a couple of the stable doors. 
And all day, talking or working in silence, you both missed the looks and stares from the rest of the town paterons. 
To them they’d seen Joel go from an asshole who spoke in grunts and rough gestures to witnessing a foreign side to him that apparently you only got to see. 
When you were around him, people saw him actually smile. A few even heard him laugh. Of course, when people mentioned it to Tommy, he was a little shocked they hadn’t seen it sooner. It had shocked him to his core when he saw his brother seem a little like his older self when he was with Ellie – laughing, smiling, joking. Even if it contained a few more swear words. So when he saw Joel practically skip into work (he didn’t. But he definitely had a pep in his step) Tommy made sure to keep an eye on what had caused the change. 
The only thing that had changed in his life outside of Ellie was you. 
You’d come into his life and the side of him that was only visible to his family was very, very slowly becoming visible to the outside world. 
Then the rumors started. 
And they circulated for months. 
“Heard any good new ones?” Tommy asked, leaning over the bar top, pretending to be interested in Ellie’s homework. 
“Overheard one of the teachers. They said they’ve met before but because she was running a herbal shop when we were on the road. Apparently she slipped something into his tea that made sure he only ever liked her if they met again.”
Tommy choked back a laugh. “Well, shit.”
“Still doesn’t beat him being a warlock and being cursed to spend his entire life with her.” Ellie said.
“Do you know who started that one?”
Ellie shook her head, pretending to be interested in her homework, too. You and Joel were on the other side of the bar, setting up a couple of hanging features before Maria could get to the ladders again. Despite her being seven months pregnant, she was determined to ignore her midwife. 
“Not yet. But when I do they better run. I like Y/n.”
“I do, too. And it really should be the other way ‘round. She’s cursed to spend her life with him. I used to live with him. I’ve seen him in the morning.”
“We’ve all seen him in the morning.”
“S’Not my fault I’m not a morning person.” Tommy practically stood to attention as Joel made his way over. “You two giving me shit?”
“No,” Ellie said far too innocently. 
Joel hummed. “I’m sure. Tommy, you seen the 2x4 I left here?”
Looking under the bar, he held it up. “This?”
Joel took it from his hand. “Thanks.”
“Hey, Maria and I were thinking about having a family dinner this week? What’d you think?”
Joel nodded after taking in Ellie’s reaction. “Sure. When?”
“Tomorrow? About 7?”
Joel nodded. “We’ll be there.”
“Hey.” 
Joel turned back to his brother. “Want to invite Y/n?”
Joel looked from his brother, to you where you were measuring out the centre of the wall on the ladder, and then back to his brother. “I can ask.”
Tommy smiled and Joel went on his way. “How long do’ya think it’ll take?”
“At this rate? An eternity.”
The next evening rolled around and you found yourself being dragged towards Tommy and Maria’s home by Maria. 
“My shift ran late but I didn’t want to come empty handed.” You explained to Tommy and Joel as you were practically launched inside by the former’s wife. 
“All is forgiven.” Tommy told you as he showed his wife what was in the tupperware you’d brought with you. “Right?”
“Yes, all is forgiven. Now let’s eat.”
Sitting down at the dinner table, Joel held out his arm and let you walk inside before him, where he held your chair out for you before tucking you under and sitting beside you and Ellie sitting on his other side. 
However, halfway through dinner, your body jerked til you sat straight. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just twisted myself.”
All in all, it was a nice family dinner. A couple stories were shared, some updates given and then you found yourself being walked home by Joel since Ellie had given a small salute to you both before reaching your path, saying she had to rush home to do…something. 
“Have fun, kids.”
“Take the main road!”
“Whatever you say!”
Joel gave a small groan. “She’s gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”
You smiled. “She’ll be safe, Joel.”
Walking you to your door, Joel saw your body react to something that didn’t seem to be there. 
“Are you sure you’re okay? That’s the forth-”
You let out a laugh. “I promise, Joel. I’m okay. Just twisted myself on patrol today.”
He didn’t seem to believe you. “I swear. I’ll be okay.”
With a sigh, Joel accepted your promise. “Okay.”
Then you did something that even shocked you. You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, for walking me home. And for inviting me. It was a fun night.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“We should do it more often.”
Joel smiled. “Just might.”
Then a familiar silence settled over both you and Joel. The kind of silence that was begging for something more. But then, taking in a breath, you stepped back. 
“Thank you, again. Goodnight, Joel.”
“G'night, Y/n.”
As you shut and locked the door, Joel found himself smiling as he walked away, his gaze drifting back to your home every now and again as he made his way back down the path and through the town to his own home where Ellie was waiting for him in the living room. 
“So, did you kiss her?”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The look Joel gave Ellie made her feel like she was under a spot-light. It was past ten pm. 
“Answer the question?”
“Ellie.”
Standing dramatically, Ellie sighed. “Come on. I know you like her. And she likes you. Why not just kiss her already? Give the rest of us a break from the looking, and the staring and the smiling and the looking.”
Taking his daughter by her shoulders, he steered her towards the stairs and up them. “Teeth and bed. Now, please.”
“Ugh, fine. But you know I’m right.”
“Goodnight, Ellie.”
Eventually, after hearing the tap turn off and Ellie’s bedroom door shut, Joel shut his own and lay down in bed, his last thoughts being on you and what Ellie had said. 
I know you like her. And she likes you.
A few days passed, however, before he saw you again. Which worried him more than he wanted to admit. But when he finally did, he knew the minute he saw you something was wrong. 
Ellie had knocked on your front door early in the afternoon having snuck out of school. She’d invited you to watch a movie or two with her and Joel that evening. 
“We found a whole bunch at the back of one of the closets. Please say yes.”
You smiled. You’d been dying to see both of them for days but the pain that had started as your side had practically spread across your entire body overnight. 
“Okay. So long as it’s okay with Joel.”
“He said it’s okay.”
Joel didn’t know anything about it until Ellie got home from school and told him what would be happening. But he wouldn’t have said no anyway. 
Ellie had practically flung the door off its hinges when she saw you walking up the steps of their porch. 
“Someone’s excited.”
“Come on, come on, come on.” 
Ellie pulled you inside and shut the door. “Joel! She’s here.”
“Is the door still attached? No Ellie sized hole in it?”
“He’s been grumpy all week.”
“I heard that!”
Then he appeared around the corner and your heart did the same thing it had been doing for weeks whenever you did see him. But that only caused you more pain in your chest. 
“Ellie, go and bring the box down. We need to see which ones need to be rewound.”
Ellie looked between the pair of you before disappearing up the stairs. 
“Hey, sorry I didn’t-”
“Show me.”
“What?” You took a small step back as Joel was about to take one forward. 
“Y/n. Show me.”
Carefully walking over to you, you shook your head. “I’m fine, Joel.”
He was a little less abrupt this time. “Show me?”
His fingers traced the hem of your t-shirt and with a reluctant but painful sigh, you carefully removed your jacket with his help. 
“Can I?”
With a soft nod, Joel took his eyes from yours and lifted the corner of your t-shirt only to be met with deep purple bruises with spots of black, green and yellow. 
“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s starting to heal.”
Joel didn’t seem amused. “Y/n-” Then he noticed the others. “You’ve been cut. Jesus. Fuck. Come with me.”
Taking your hand in his, he pulled you towards the kitchen. “Sit down.”
“Joel, I’m fine.”
“Sit down.”
“If I sit down, it hurts more.”
Another silence washed over you both before he turned back to his freezer and pulled out a couple of ice packs. “Here…can I?”
You gave him your permission once more and he lifted your t-shirt and placed the ice packs against your sides. You could feel his thumb rubbing light lines across your side as he held you steady. 
“Got 'em’ I think a couple- holy shit.”
Ellie got a clear view of the deep bruises across you. “Ellie, can you run and get the first aid kit from the bathroom?”
“Yea, are you okay?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Ellie.” Joel pushed. She nodded quickly then ran upstairs in search of the kit. 
“That’s what you told me.” Joel mumbled under his breath. 
“It didn’t look this bad.”
“When did it happen?”
There was no point in lying to him anymore. “Patrol before the dinner.”
“Who did it?”
“I slipped and fell against one of the trees.”
Flicking his eyes from your wounds and back to your face, one of his hands ran around the rim of your top until it was lifted high enough for him to get a clear picture, he shook his head. “Trees don’t tend to have rifles as branches.”
“It was mine.”
Joel pointed at one of the longer bruises. “This one…is yours.”
He pointed at the other one. “Whose was this?”
He looked you in your eyes but you shook your head. “Joel…”
“Got it.” Ellie landed at the bottom of the stairs. 
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Pulling a chair out, Joel sat beside you. “Sure you don’t want to sit?”
You shook your head. “Not yet.”
“Okay. Ellie, go and see if you can rewind some of those tapes.”
She just nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Joel waited until she left the room before asking you to remove your shirt. It took you a minute but with his help you finally got it over your head. Under any other context, Joel’s eyes trailing your body would have been for another reason outside of his brain counting each cut and scrape you’d gotten and each bruise that was trying its best to heal. 
“This might sting.”
You nodded and bit your lip as the cold disinfectant hit your wounds. Some of them you didn’t even know existed considering you could only turn your body so far to look in the mirror before it screamed for you to remain still. 
“Was it your partner?”
You swallowed thickly. “No.”
Your back was to him for the moment, so that made it easier to tell him the truth. “One of the others. They were hearing noises. His partner had left him and he got lost. Must have heard me and just…jumped. He didn’t mean to. He’s just a kid, Joel. He got scared. Did what most of us would have done.”
“You could have been shot.”
“But I wasn’t. I’m okay, Joel.”
He shook his head. “Says the woman covered in bruises and scars.”
“They’ll heal. I’ll heal.”
“What’s his partner’s name?”
“Joel.”
“Just tell me. If you don’t, I’ll ask around and Maria can be the one to deal with him.”
You sighed. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“What his partner did was stupid.”
“Joel.”
He grunted. “I promise.”
Swearing halfway through as Joel pressed another cotton swab of disinfectant to a scar, you told him his name. Joel had a couple of run ins with him over the last couple of months. A jock twenty years out of college, still trying to haze the kids under his authority. 
Ten minutes or so later, Joel had finished and replaced the ice packs you’d been holding at your side. 
Laying them on either side of your body as you turned around, your t-shirt falling back around your body. He slowly stood and you held onto his arms, your eyes closing. 
“Any better?”
You nodded. “Much. Thank you.”
You both stood there for a few moments, your eyes closed, feeling the throbbing in your sides settle more than it had done in the last couple of days. And as you let out a calm breath, Joel leaned against you a little and pressed a kiss to your forehead before you rested it against his chest. 
“I think I’m ready to sit now.”
“Okay,” Joel whispered before pressing another kiss to the top of your head before walking with you into the living room, finding a set up already made by Ellie. 
“I thought the blankets might help.”
You smiled at her. “Thank you, Ellie.”
She smiled from her spot on the floor by the TV, her finger still holding the rewind button down. Joel helped you sit down. 
“So, what are the options?”
Ellie read out a couple of the boxes. There were a lot of Disney films, a couple of thrillers and a few more different blockbusters. So, sticking his hand into the box without looking, Joel pulled one out. 
Ellie read the cover. “Field of Dreams.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one.”
Ellie looked at Joel for confirmation and he nodded. “Stick it in, kid.”
Sitting beside you, you leaned against Joel for support and very soon after, Ellie joined his other side. 
“Does he dream about a field?”
“Just watch it and you’ll find out.”
Around 40 minutes into the movie, Joel felt a steady weight against his arm where he turned and found Ellie fast asleep. So carefully reaching over, he pulled a blanket over her and held her steady against him. 
“She asleep?”
“Yep. Yet to get through a movie with her awake.”
You smiled. 
“You get much sleep recently?”
“Enough to keep me going.” Joel didn’t say anything but when he placed his arm around your shoulders, that said everything. 
“This always made me cry.” You whispered to Joel as Archie stepped across the line and became his older self. 
“How many times have you seen this film?” He’d caught you a couple of times mouthing the lines along with the characters. 
You felt your cheeks heat. “A couple. Before I came to Wyoming, one of my neighbours had a VCR and two films. This and The Parent Trap. Since I’d look after her two kids when she worked, it didn’t take long for me to learn the scripts.”
“So how much do you know of The Parent Trap?”
You felt yourself chuckle. “We can watch it and find out.”
Joel laughed quietly, too, before carefully pulling you closer. “How’s your side?”
You looked up at him. “Better. Thank you.”
“Good.”
Joel pressed a kiss to your head before getting settled with both you and Ellie. And just as Kevin Costner started to play a game of catch, you felt yourself drift off to sleep. 
You didn’t know how long had passed since the movie ended but when your body hit a soft surface, you stirred awake. 
“Shush, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Joel.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna check on Ellie.”
Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your head but you mustered enough energy to reach out for him. “Come back.”
“I promise.” Lifting your hand, he pressed a light kiss to your knuckles. You woke up again when a weight dipped on the other side of the bed. Then you heard a familiar groan as his body settled into the softness of the mattress. 
You shuffled closer to Joel. 
Waking for the third time, the room was being lit with the soft rays of the sun and beside you, deep breaths were being taken by Joel as he remained in a deep sleep. 
If this was anyone else, you probably would have left. Hell, you wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place. But you trusted Joel. More so than most. You also found him to be steadier than most. He’d shared some of what had happened on the road with him and Ellie, as well as what happened before. Life hadn’t been steady with him, and yet, there he lay. Stable. Able. Strong. Maybe not as he was twenty years ago, but still. Trustworthy. And beneath it all…kind. Caring. Sensitive; even if he wouldn’t admit it. He knew when people were hurt, or hurting. And maybe for others he’d seem gruff. But not with you. Not with Ellie. Not with those he loved and cared deeply for. 
With his hand wrapped over yours, you lifted it and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Maybe Joel Miller could be an asshole. But to you he was a decently kind man. 
Maybe others wouldn’t see that considering between the hour that Joel had left to pick a package up from Tommy, leaving you and Ellie to find another tape to play, your attacker’s partner found his nose broken and had been given a black eye. But you didn’t mind his kindness being kept a secret from the rest of the world. 
Those he cared for knew the truth. 
You knew the truth. 
And nothing could ever change that. 
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nyashykyunnie · 3 days ago
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˗ˏˋ Entry : 049 - Lover! Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Trichotillomania ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
[ Trichotillomania: Repeated hair pulling habits from stress, anxiety and depression. Do not engage with this fic if you are in a poor mental health state. Familial abuse. Physical abuse. Body Dysmorphia. Depression. Suicidal Ideation. Trichotillomania can be considered as a form of self harm. Other variations of self-harm is in heavy description. Ends in fluff ]
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Just Somewhere to Hide. Just somewhere. Anywhere. ] ¡! ❞
The only thing that's stopping you from ending things right now is that there is a lack of a knife present in your hands.
The kitchen is just a few steps away. Just one thrust into your heart and it's off to the comfortable embrace of death itself.
But you can't risk that, there's no spot in this godforsaken house you're imprisoned in for a peaceful death. Every corner of the walls around you is a death sentence to invite panic attacks in.
Why can't everyone just shut up and leave you be?
It's not like it's your fault you can't get into fucking college because of the tuition fee. Aren't you saving everyone's fucking wallets from that bullshit?
No one should give a fuck about your lack of education, you can enroll by the time the expenses die down.
You shouldn't have been here in the first place anyway. If it weren't for that single night you wouldn't be born.
But ah, life has a wonderful way of fucking up everything.
You grew pampered, with food served to you in rich flavors and huge amounts. You're thankful for that, you're thankful for the lovely childhood.
Oh how you wish to go back to those days.
But do you really?
Childhood may have been lovely but underneath all the glitters and rainbows were belts and hangers and brooms used to discipline you?
Can't spell a word right?
A smack from a fist.
Can't do your math right?
A smack from a hanger.
Can't translate between two languages fast enough?
A smack from the wood of a broom.
Can't do an essay right?
A smack with a belt.
Maybe childhood isn't lovely either.
Where was the place that you could hide yourself away? School.
Yes.
As much as you hated that place for all it's shitty standards it was a safe place. At least there you can pretend, at least there you can have some form of isolation even if you're being bullied and mocked for how you look and your voice sounds.
It's fine that you undergo discrimination and bullying, at least they're not swinging belts and brooms at you. It's just them destroying your self-esteem.
Not like you have any to begin with thanks to your parents who were even more brutal about your appearance that you now have body dysmorphia on tip of depression and anxiety.
Even if school is a place where teachers normalize humiliating students shamelessly for basic wrongdoings that can be corrected with simple warnings.
Even though that place is full of people who only respect you when they need something out of you, even if that place is a paradise for the pretty girls and a hell for those who don't fit the beauty standard— That place felt safer than anywhere else.
All your life you've never been given privacy because of your privilege. You're luckier than your cousins who have it harder, so be thankful.
But at one point you started wishing for your places to be switched. It's fine that you eat food that is burnt and poorly cooked, it's fine that you have to eat shitty food.
If it meant you can have a little more breather instead of getting anxious that you might have done something to earn the belt— It's fine.
You'd rather starve than anything else.
At some point in your life you started to pull your hair out. It started from a few strands. But all of the sudden there are clumps of hair gathered on the floors.
What did you get instead of receiving help?
A beating.
That's right, a beating.
You got your hair yanked, pinned to the floor, and slapped repeatedly on your helpless situation. When your aggressor was pried off of you— You got kicked on your already helpless situation.
In the end who is the one who asks for forgiveness and gaslit that you being pinned down and slapped is justifiable? You.
You.
The helpless you.
The you who isn't allowed to voice your feelings out so you grew to not know how to tell anyone what you really feel, even to the point that you feared telling your feelings is what will doom you into irreversible damage.
You feared your own emotions.
You feared everything you should have been allowed to fear from the years of abuse. The fear bedded into your soul.
Did you want help?
YES.
Fuck yes you did.
What happened instead? You are guilt-tripped into saying no that you don't need a psychiatrist despite the fact you have major social anxiety, severe trichotillomania and heck— You even cut yourself when you can.
Nothing.
Nothing could help you.
Everything is a prison and you yourself are rotten from the inside out.
No one wanted to help you.
Your family?
Right.
They only fucking insist on caring because the image of a severely mentally ill daughter is bad for their image.
Nobody really cared.
Nobody did.
Even if you cry your heart out nobody could help you.
Nobody wanted to help.
No one.
There's no one there.
Not here.
Not there.
Not anywhere.
You're all alone.
In this vast world that you try to paint into a pretty picture in your head— Not one soul wanted to help you.
The embrace of death seems all the more enticing now that you really think about it.
Why fear it?
Death gives you mercy from the agony of living.
Atleast if you're dead— No one ans nothing can hurt you.
You can sleep all you want while your body rots from six feet under.
You've always been rotten anyway.
Dying won't be any different.
Life always ends in slumber, it's about time for you to dream.
⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪
"My liege!" Beru's panicked voice yells out for his master, instantly jolting Jinwoo awake from his small nap after playing a few rounds after homework. "The empress— She's unwell!"
"Exchange"
The command slipped out of Jinwoo's lips in an instant. He knew what was happening.
Even if he doesn't know the full story of what you've been through— He knew the situation is bad as he feels Beru's heightened anxiety.
Jinwoo can technically peer into your memories and see for himself what really happens. But he didn't. He wanted you to tell him what happened in the years you grew up. He wanted you to tell him what pushed you to whatever the hell happened to you today.
He knew about your destructive habits. It was the result of bottling up your emotions for so long that it created a ticking time bomb that will burst at any moment should the right trigger be pulled.
And when Jinwoo finally materializes from the abyss-like wisps of shadows— He would find himself face to face with your figure staring out at the cityscape as you stand on the ledge.
"Stop, wait!" Jinwoo panics, breaking into sweat when he saw you take a stop.
He yanked your arm back in an instant, letting your back crash against his chest. Jinwoo held you firmly as you thrashed and screamed in his hold.
But ah, his strong arms will not let you go.
He refuses to let go. Knowing the moment he does you will take flight and descend to your demise. Still he was hyper aware of his strength, if he so ever squeeze too much and he might kill you.
As you stretched your palm out to yearn for the ledge— Jinwoo uses his to grab hold of yours and pull it back.
"That's not something you should longing for" Jinwoo says, his voice trembling as he uses his other hand to cover your eyes so you wont see it anymore. "A leap of faith is not what you need."
You kept thrashing in his hold, cursing Jinwoo out for daring to interrupt your final farewell.
But soon he would lift his palm up from your eyes.
As your eyesight adjusts back to the waking world— You find yourself no longer on top of the building you were in a second ago.
Instead in front of you is a vast field of grass with blooming flowers swaying back and forth along with the gentle breeze blowing your way.
Once Jinwoo could tell that you're no longer agitated, his hold becomes gentle, and instead he would just hug you from behind as you both sat on the grass.
Your breath was completely taken away by how pretty the sight is. Every single dark thought you had in your little head is instantly washed away by the peaceful and beautiful sight.
The sky itself is majestic, with full and fluffy clouds drifting about and even the stars blinking so prettily along with a meteor shower.
While your gaze is distracted by everything else, Jinwoo's eyes are on you. He could see another bald spot on your head from your hair plucking habits. At the center of it was a huge gaping wound fresh and still bleeding. He blows on it gently, the wound closing instantly and your strands growing back anew as if nothing ever happened in the first place.
"Better?" He finally asks as he nuzzles the side of your head.
"Mhm." You weakly nod, too distracted to really talk properly.
"I know, I know that I can't tell you that everything will get better" Jinwoo holds you softly, holding you tighter. "It'll be stupid for me to try and tell you about rainbows and whatnot."
"..."
"But if you want to run away, if you want to be somewhere far away like this. Just tell me. Don't go hurting yourself, don't think about leaving this world" He goes on.
You can't see him directly, but you knew by the tremble of his voice that he must be crying. And yet Jinwoo pretends to be strong. The one who needs comfort is not him, but you.
"When the world is too cruel on you, when everything is just too painful for your, when you just want to cry— Turn to me." Jinwoo said, no— He was pleading you. "I'll take you here. Just you and me. Just us."
A place of solace.
A paradise for both of you.
A place where no one can hit you, no one can yell at you, a place where you can let your guard down.
The thought of that caused you to break into tears. You wanted to tell him what you feel. What you think. What happened and why you're like this. But instead you only sob.
You can only cry your sorry little heart out, you let out all the screams and tears you've been hiding because you will be guilt-tripped for having emotions. For being weak.
Yet this man wasn't doing any of that. Instead he was rubbing your back as if he understood what you were trying to tell him in your tears.
You don't have to hurt yourself. Not as long as he's here. If it's a hero you need then he will be your saviour. Jinwoo wants to show you that you are loved.
If not by the world, then by him.
He will love you, more than he has now.
The world is beautiful, and you have unfortunately been too exposed to the ugliness of everything. So he will be your beacon of light.
He'll hold your hand and show you everything that should have been shown to you in the first place. He'll pamper you to the point that you'll forget your destructive habits.
After all, those came to life because of your environment.
In the hellhole that you are imprisoned in, he'll pull you out to take you home. A home for you and him.
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꒰ 🪼 A/N: What a way to start my Lover series hahah. I just needed this fic so bad so I'm sorry for introducing my new series like this. If you are in need of professional help please reach out immediately should you are able to. Please don't bottle up your emotions. You're only hurting yourself. If you are unable to reach out to therapists then please talk to your friends or close people for comfort. ��
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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foreverisntenough · 20 hours ago
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‘Movie Night’
Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 
Index:
Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!
Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic
Chapter 12 - 'Monaco’ | ‘Movie Night'
word count - 11.3k
You crawled into Trent’s bed that night, the weight of the party and the fading liquor settling over both of you like a heavy blanket. The room was still, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets as you burrowed into him, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arm wrapped instinctively around you, holding you close, and for a moment, it felt like nothing in the world could intrude on this quiet, safe space. But then, like a sharp snap, reality crept in. Thoughts you’d been pushing aside bubbled up, tugging at your peace.
“T…” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. He hummed, ready to listen, tired albeit. “Are we ever going to tell people?” You felt him tense slightly beneath you, his hand stilling on your back. You bit your lip, already regretting the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t love the secret moments with him—those were some of the happiest of your life—but lately, the lines between private and public were blurring and not in the way you’d hope.
“Baby,” he started softly, his tone careful. “We gotta think about this.” His hesitation sent a small pang through your chest. Trent wasn’t just stalling for the sake of it, though—you could see the storm of thoughts swirling in his eyes. The things Noah, Aiden, and Bailey had said earlier at the party lingered in his mind, mixing with his own worries about how this would affect you, him, and everyone around you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to meet his gaze. Your voice was light, almost naive, but you were desperate for clarity.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, pretty girl or that we won’t ever but you know what’s wrong,” he said, letting out a soft laugh as he looked at you with a smirk full of sympathy. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get your ass beat.” It clicked immediately, and you couldn’t help but smirk back. 
“Oh,” you murmured knowingly. Trent nodded, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm.  Your heart swelled at the tenderness behind his worry. “I’ll protect you though,” you teased sweetly, your lips quirking into a grin.
“And that’s well nice, but I don’t believe you for a second,” he shot back, shaking his head playfully. “I’ve seen you try to fight Jack. Not exactly convincing.” He cupped your cheek. You laughed, leaning up to kiss his jaw. 
“I’d try for you, though,” you whispered, your giggles subsiding into a softer, more earnest tone. The room fell quiet again, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Trent sighed, his hand shifting to cradle your cheek still, his thumb brushing softly over your skin.
“Soon, baby, okay?” he said, his voice steady and filled with promise. “I want you. I want you all the time. I don’t want to hide this way. His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the ache of uncertainty in your chest. You nodded, leaning into his touch as his lips found your forehead. Until, he spoke again. “But we’ve gotta find a way to do it right. I don’t want to hurt people.” He told you and while you understood, it broke your heart. He was hurting you, why didn’t he consider that. But you bit your tongue trying to be rational and understanding. 
“Okay,” you murmured, letting your eyes drift closed. You trusted him—how could you not? And for now, that was enough.
“Baby… Pretty girl… you gotta get up for me,” Trent murmured against your skin. His voice broke softly through the stillness of the room, warm and tender, but his words held a weight that didn’t belong to the intimacy of the moment. His lips brushed against your temple, an apology in the contact before the words even came. Trent looked at you with a pout loving how comfortable you were with him, how cuddly you were. It broke his heart but he had to do it. 
“No,” you mumbled, eyes still shut as you pulled him closer, clinging to the drowsy warmth of his body. “I want to stay with you, baby,” you murmured, your voice tinged with sleep and longing. His hesitation was immediate. You felt the shift in him before he spoke again, his arm loosening its hold on your waist ever so slightly. 
“Baby…” His sigh was almost imperceptible, his tone soft but guilty. “The lads are coming over soon.” Your heart sank. It was a familiar refrain—too familiar. The safety of the morning evaporated, leaving behind the sharp edges of reality. You stiffened in his arms, the weight of his words sinking into you like stones.
“Right,” you said quietly, voice brittle and void of emotion as you sat up too quickly, the ache in your chest making your movements feel heavy. “Got it.”
“Y/N…” Trent tried, his voice laced with regret, but you were already pulling yourself out of his arms, the warmth he’d provided replaced by a cold, creeping frustration. You threw the duvet off with more force than necessary, scanning the room for your clothes.
“No, it’s fine,” you snapped, your voice clipped as you grabbed your shirt from the floor. You yanked it over your head, your movements rushed and jerky, the tension crackling between you both. “Lads coming, so I’ll just—what? Link out? Like usual?” He let out a heavy breath, his hands running over his face and then his hair, visibly exasperated but more at himself than you. 
“It’s not like that,” he muttered, his voice soft, almost pleading. You froze, your back to him, before spinning around, eyes blazing. 
“Then what is it like, Trent?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels exactly like that. It feels exactly like every other time you’ve made me feel less important than everyone else is to you. You pick them over me.”
“Don’t do this,” he said quietly, stepping toward you, his tone filled with frustration and guilt. “You know how complicated this is. You know what’s at stake. It’s not like I’m doing this to hurt you.” He muttered as guilt ransacked him. You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed your jeans, the tears already burning at the corners of your eyes. 
“I’ve been patient, T. I’ve understood. But tell me—when does it stop being complicated? When do you stop hiding me like I’m something to be ashamed of?” His shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find the right words. 
“It’s not like that,” he said again, but this time, his voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. “You’re being careful about us too. Don’t act like it’s just me. You know it’s not like that.”
“No, I don’t,” you shot back, slipping your skirt on with trembling hands. “Because all I see is me sneaking out of your bed every time someone knocks on the door. All I feel is this constant push and pull—like you want me, but only if no one else can see it.”
“That’s not fair,” Trent countered, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours desperately. “You know how much I care about you.”
“Do I?” you whispered harshly, your voice breaking as you looked at him, the man you loved, the man you’d waited so long for. “Because it doesn’t feel like it, T. It feels like I’m the thing you’re too scared to fight for.” His hand reached out, brushing your arm gently, but you pulled away, the distance between you widening like a chasm. He flinched at your retreat, the rejection cutting him deeper than he expected.
“Baby, please,” he said quietly, his voice shaking. “Don’t walk out like this. Don’t do this. We’ve done this.” He said in a more irritated tone than he meant. You looked at him, standing there with heartbreak etched into his features, and it only made the pain sharper. 
“Don’t ‘baby’ me right now,” you whispered hoarsely, the tears threatening to spill as you grabbed your bag.
“Y/N, wait,” he said, his voice breaking as he stepped toward you again, but you were already at the door, your hand on the handle. “I’m sorry I forgot some lad’s from the team had planned to come over. If you want to stay, that’s fine but it makes less sense for us to out ourselves to people before we sort everything out and tell the people closer to us. Why would we tell them before…” his words were course but then his tempter faded out. “Jack… please wait…” He whispered.  You paused for the briefest moment, your heart warring with your pride. 
“I’m tired of waiting, Trent,” you said softly, almost too quietly for him to hear. Then you pulled the door open and walked out, the slam reverberating through the room like an echo of everything left unsaid. Trent stood frozen, staring at the empty space where you’d just been. His hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your absence suffocating. He sank back onto the bed, burying his face in his hands as the silence swallowed him whole. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it was. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to chase after you. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he didn’t know how to fix the cracks that had been growing between you for so long.
You left Trent’s house in tears, your chest tight with a swirl of frustration and heartbreak. He wanted to chase after you but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want to upset you but to a certain point how many times would he have to tell you both of you were doing the same thing. He was just protecting what you had. But you felt hurt. Why did he tell you to come home with him if he was going to kick you out. The walk to your car felt endless, your legs shaky as the cold air stung your skin. You couldn’t shake the ache in your heart, the overwhelming confusion. How could something so right between you feel so wrong when it came to the rest of the world? You wanted him, and he wanted you, but you both stayed trapped in this unspoken fear of making it real. Of bringing it to life. 
The drive to Layla’s was a blur. By the time you arrived and knocked on her door, the tears were streaming freely down your face. Layla opened it immediately, her expression softening with concern the moment she saw you. Without a word, she pulled you inside, guiding you toward her couch like she’d done so many times before.
“Okay, sit down,” she said gently, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder as you dropped onto the couch. “What happened?” She asked softly. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady, but it came out in a rush of anger and sadness. 
“Maybe I should just stop it all. It’s stupid. This whole thing is stupid.” You rashly told her explaining nothing.  Layla sat down next to you, her brows furrowed. 
“Erm… okay, but before we decide anything drastic, maybe you need to take a breath.” She grabbed your arms firmly, grounding you. You shook your head, your tears falling harder. 
“Lay, it’s so good. When we’re together, god fuck! It’s so perfect.” You dropped your face into your hands in frustration. “But then it’s so bad, and it happens so fast. I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, your voice cracking as you clung to her like a lifeline. Layla sighed, pulling you into her lap, her hand gently stroking your hair. 
“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice soothing, “you two have to talk. This can’t keep happening. You can’t keep living like this—it’s not fair to you. You need to figure out what you both want and make a plan because seeing you like this upset? It’s really fucked up.” She looked at you,  her heartbreaking seeing you like this.   
“I don’t know how to talk to him,” you admitted, your voice muffled against her shirt.
“Why not?” she asked, her tone patient but desperate for you to fix it.
“Because what if I don’t know…” You frowned at her pleading for help. She just waited patiently for you to get to the realization that you knew what you wanted. It was obvious you did. You were just scared but that didn’t make it any less true. You wanted Trent. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing I do?” you said, your voice trembling. “What if I tell him I want more, and he doesn’t? What if this is all I get—sneaking around, hiding, pretending it’s not as big as it feels?” Layla’s brows knitted together in frustration, but her touch stayed gentle. 
“Have you told him you want it? That you want more?” She looked at you earnestly. 
“No,” you hiccupped with a sniffle. “I don’t know how to say it. And if I do, and he doesn’t feel the same…” You trailed off, shaking your head as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.
“Y/N,” Layla said, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at her. “Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but you’re never going to know unless you say something. Even after all these years of so much being said in the silences… now you have to say something. He won’t know unless you do. And here’s the thing—I don’t think Trent’s playing with you. He’s not that kind of guy. But last night at the party?” Her expression darkened slightly. “That fucking bothered me. The way the boys talked about you, like you’re some kind of game or joke to him. It pissed me off, and I know it pisses you off that he lets it go on but he can’t stand up for you if he doesn’t know you want him to. So say something, ask him to stand up for you.” You nodded slowly, your chest tightening at the memory. Layla exhaled deeply, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Look, I get it’s complicated with Jack and everything, but that’s not an excuse anymore. You’re not a secret he should be ashamed of—you’re someone to be proud of. If you say something then it’s on him. He needs to step up. He needs to stop hiding you. You both need to make changes for this to work.”
“Why is he okay with it?” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Why is he okay with hiding me?” Layla pulled you close again, wrapping her arms around you tightly. 
“I really don’t think he is, babe. I think he’s scared too. But the only way you’re going to know is if you ask him. If you tell him how you feel and what you want. Otherwise, you’re going to keep hurting like this, he’s going to keep hurting you when I’m sure he doesn’t want to and you don’t deserve that.” Her words settled over you like a weight, and for the first time, you let yourself think about the possibility of laying everything bare. Of telling Trent exactly how you felt, no matter how terrifying it was.
Days had passed in silence, the kind that echoed loudly in Trent’s chest. Every time he reached for his phone, his fingers hesitated over your name before pulling back. He didn’t know how to fix this—not yet, at least. Summer loomed just around the corner, promising sunshine and indulgence, but the thought of his upcoming holiday to Monaco filled Trent with dread. It should’ve been exciting—yachts, the Grand Prix, endless parties. It was the kind of trip he used to count down to. But now? Now it felt like a prison sentence, especially with Jack coming along. Jack had planned the holiday with Trent, Noah, and a few other boys months ago, hyped about a well-deserved break from football. Trent knew exactly what it would be like: adrenaline-fueled days watching the races and wild, booze-soaked nights in Monte Carlo’s clubs. It had sounded perfect back then—a dream escape. But now? Now Trent could hardly stomach the idea. He didn’t want to be trapped on a yacht or in some overcrowded club, pretending everything was fine while Jack hovered nearby. Jack, who had no idea that Trent had been sneaking around with you for months. Jack, who’d likely kill him if he found out. Jack, who’d likely kill him if he found out he had made you so upset. And there was you. You, who hadn’t spoken to him since you’d left his house in tears. The image of your tear-streaked face haunted him, a gnawing ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. He hated himself for letting you leave like that, hated the way he’d made you feel like some dirty secret. His own pride aside, he didn’t like that he made you cry so much lately. He ran a hand over his face, sinking back into his couch. What was he supposed to do? How could he fix things with you while being stuck on holiday with your brother? Trent stared at his phone again, heart pounding as he opened your messages. His thumb hovered over the keyboard. ‘We need to talk.’ He deleted it. Too formal. Too cold. ‘I miss you.’ No. Too vague. He wanted to say more than that. His mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that could pull you back to him. But every time he started to type, the fear crept in—the fear that maybe he’d already lost you for good.
The moment Jack’s name lit up your screen, you put on your best casual smile, trying to steady your nerves. As his face appeared, you leaned back, feigning an air of indifference.
“Hey, you! How’s Monaco?” you asked lightly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. Jack grinned, clearly in high spirits. 
“It’s unreal, honestly. Sun’s out, the cars are insane—it’s all proper vibes here.” He shoot you a genuine toothy grin that reminding you so much of your mum it hurt your heart.
“Nice,” you replied, trying to sound detached as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Race is tomorrow?”
“One more,” he said, glancing over his shoulder briefly. Your ears strained to pick up any faint sounds of Trent in the background—his laugh, his voice, anything—but all you could hear was the ambient hum of a busy room. Jack went on about the plans for the day, but then his tone shifted, a greedy grin spreading across his face. “Oh, and there’s this party tonight. Noah’s got some links here. Meeting up with a few girls.” Your stomach sank like a stone. 
“Really?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Jack raised a brow at your tone. 
“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just a bit of fun. Monaco’s full of, uh… opportunities,” he said with a laugh. You forced a tight smile, even as your heart twisted in your chest. Jack was waiting for you too call him out for being rude but to no avail… he was confused. 
“So lots of girls for you lot,” you said flatly, the edge in your voice betraying your attempt at nonchalance. He nodded. “Good,” you replied sharply, eyes narrowing as you fought to keep your emotions in check. Jack paused, his expression shifting as he caught onto your mood. 
“What’s with you?” he asked, half-laughing, half-confused.
“Nothing,” you said too quickly, your voice pitching higher.
“Y/N…” Jack gave you a look. “C’mon, don’t be like that. It’s jokes. Not serious. They’re just lads going out, let them live. Stop judging.” He fell into a teasing smile. 
“I’m not!” you yelped, the words coming out too fast and too defensive. Jack shook his head, still smiling but clearly baffled. 
“Alright, whatever you say. I gotta get ready. Try not to stress so much, yeah?” The call ended, and you sat there, the silence in your room deafening. Your chest felt tight, and your mind raced with thoughts of Trent, of the girls, of everything unsaid between you. The distance between you both felt insurmountable, and for the first time, you wondered if it was even worth trying to bridge it.
Jack wasn’t stupid. He’d always been the first to sniff out secrets, and lately, something was off. It wasn’t one thing—it was a pile of little things that didn’t add up. You were distant, emotional even, on edge, and while you brushed it off as work stress, Jack wasn’t buying it. Then there was Trent. Once the quiet playboy, he suddenly hadn’t looked at a single girl since they landed in Monaco. Noah had been ribbing him about it for days, and Trent, usually quick with a smirk or witty comeback, just shrugged it off and stayed moody. It wasn’t like him. The real clue began two days before they left for Monaco. Jack had been doing laundry, trying to pack light, when he came across something unexpected—a business card. It was from a high-end restaurant, the kind of place you didn’t just stumble into. Jack’s brow furrowed as he turned it over in his hands. The name nagged at him.
“Where have I seen this before?” he muttered to himself. And then, flash forward to last night, he heard the name again… he and Trent were at the same end of the dinner table with Noah. They were all talking about random spots back home they’d eaten at lately. Trent had mentioned going to the exact restaurant. It took a moment to put two and two together but even when he did, he dismissed it. Jack didn’t want to think much of it other than it was odd—Trent was always out and about, meeting people, living the life of a big time footballer. But now… now it didn’t make sense. Who had he gone with? Trent was apparently seeing a new girl, the one Noah had mentioned. Maybe he went on a date there but then why did the card end up at your house. Jack tried to brush it off, but the pieces were starting to connect in his mind. Trent’s unusual moodiness, your strange behavior, and now this shared thread. No way, maybe it wasn’t from your clothes, maybe it had gotten misplaced, something lost amongst all the traffic of friends in the house. But if it was yours… who had you gone with? It all didn’t make sense.  The realization crept in slowly but undeniably, like a puzzle falling into place. Jack sat back on the couch, staring at his phone in his hand, replaying moments and conversations. Surely not. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing. 
A day or so on, deep in your doom scroll, and in your thoughts, you sat cross-legged on Layla’s couch, while she painted her nails beside you. As you pulled down on your screen, your Instagram refreshed, and there it was: Trent’s latest post. A full photo dump from Monaco. Your stomach dropped the second his name appeared on your screen, but it wasn’t until you saw the pictures that the scream escaped your mouth.
“What the fuck! Oh my God! What the actual fuck,” you yelled, nearly throwing your phone at Layla in shock. She jumped, smudging the fresh coat of polish on her thumb.
“Jesus, Y/N! What?” Layla exclaimed, wide-eyed as she tried to figure out if you were upset, angry, or just losing your mind. You shoved your phone in her face, almost shaking with emotion. 
“Look at this! LOOK at him! Is this some kind of sick joke? What the fuck is this?” The photos were ridiculous. Trent looked good—too good. He was wearing a pair of Prada dungarees, sunglasses, his smile lazy and effortless. Every shot was like a knife to your chest. Him walking around the grid with your brother and Noah, then laughing over drinks. A candid of him on a boat, the Monaco skyline glittering in the background. Another of him standing in a garage, tanned and glowing. Layla took one look and winced. 
“Oh. Wow. Yeah, okay… that’s obnoxious. I mean… what did you expect? It’s Monaco. He’s literally built for a place like this.” She shook her head in faux disbelief because she really could believe it. You groaned, running a hand through your hair, nearly tearing it out in frustration. 
“He looks so good, Layla. So good. What the fuck. And all I can think about is how many girls are probably seeing him right now, in real time, in person. Girls who probably feel the exact same way about him as I do. He never posts but of course he posts this. Fuck off!” You yelled annoyed. You collapsed back onto the couch, clutching your phone like it might explode in your hands. “Is he seeing girls while he’s there? Jack did mention Noah had ‘links.’ What if he’s flirting with them? What if he’s—” 
“Stop,” Layla cut in, her tone sharp but kind. She grabbed your phone out of your hands and set it on the coffee table. “You’re spiraling.” You stared up at the ceiling, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 
“I’m not spiraling,” you argued weakly. Layla gave you a look. 
“You screamed like someone set the house on fire because Trent posted a couple of photos. You’re spiraling.” She smirked.
“I hate this,” you muttered, your voice breaking. “I hate not knowing what he’s doing, who he’s with. I hate seeing him like this, looking like that, when I can’t even talk to him.” Layla sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 
“Look, I know it sucks. But you can’t let a stupid Instagram post drive you crazy.  “Millions of people follow him babe but he wants you. You’ll talk to him when he gets back, okay? Just… try to focus on something else in the meantime. And if he is being an prat over there? Then he’s not worth your time, Y/N.  Then he wasn’t worth the risk to be honest. Simple as that.” But it wasn’t that simple. Not for you. Because no matter how much it hurt, all you could think about was how much you wanted him.
When you went home that night and you lost your jealousy but you fell into desperation and vengeance. You were so angry Trent seemed fine. In fact he looked better than fine. You cried on your bed as you pulled out your phone. You stared at Josh’s name. And then in a state of delusion and heartbreak you hit send. You started bawling immediately.  You felt sick, why did you just do that. Why were you so sure? You slammed your phone down on the bed, curling into yourself as sobs wracked your body. You felt your phone buz almost instantly. 
‘My my my… look who it is. Crawling back so soon?’
Your tears blurred the screen, but you could still see Josh’s mocking message, taunting you for your impulsive decision. You hadn’t thought it through—hadn’t considered the consequences of reaching out to him. You only wanted to feel something, anything other than the aching pit Trent had left in your chest. The second you hit send, regret swallowed you whole. Now it was all spinning out of control.Panicked, you grabbed your phone and called Layla. She answered on the second ring, her voice groggy but alert as she heard you crying.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She hurriedly asked, scared. 
“Layla,” you choked out. “I did something so stupid. I—I texted Josh.” There was silence on the other end, then a sharp intake of breath. 
“You what?” She yelped. 
“I don’t know why! I was upset, and I wasn’t thinking, and now he’s replied, and I don’t know what to do!” you wailed, your voice cracking. Layla groaned in frustration.
 “Y/N, why would you—why would you even think that was a good idea? You know he’s not worth your time! You said you were going home to sleep not going to text a fucking sociopath!”
“I know, I know! I just—God, I felt so angry, and Trent’s off in Monaco with all these girls, and I thought…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. It sounded ridiculous even to you.
“You thought texting Josh was the way to get back at him?” Layla snapped, exasperated.
“I don’t know what I thought!” you cried. “I wasn’t thinking! And now I can’t unsend it, and he’s already replied, and it’s just… stupid! I’m so fucking stupid, Layla!” You cried. Layla let out a long, calming breath on the other end. 
“Okay. Okay, first of all, stop calling yourself stupid. You made a mistake, but you’re human, alright? And second…” She paused, considering. “What exactly did Josh say?” You hesitated, swallowing the lump in your throat before you read her the message. Layla let out a noise of pure disgust.
 “Ugh, of course he did. He’s such a tool.” She rolled her eyes but you couldn’t see. 
“What do I do now, Lay?” you whispered, clutching the phone like it was a lifeline.
“You don’t do anything,” she said firmly. “You don’t reply, you don’t engage, nothing. You made a mistake, but you’re not doubling down on it. Block him if you have to.” You sniffled, tears still running down your cheeks. “But what if—”
“No ‘what ifs,’” Layla interrupted. “You’re not talking to Josh. You’re upset about Trent, and this isn’t the way to handle it. You need to focus on yourself, Y/N. Not on trying to make Trent jealous or trying to prove something to anyone.” Her words hit like a slap in the face, but you knew she was right. Still, as you stared at Josh’s message on your screen, you couldn’t shake the sick feeling in your stomach. The damage was already done.
The guilt was suffocating, gnawing at you every second. You hadn’t texted Josh beyond that one reckless moment, but the damage to your conscience had been done. You felt sick—physically ill at the thought of what you’d done, even if Trent didn’t know. The boys’ holiday was finally over, but instead of feeling relief at having Trent back, you were consumed by dread. Jack was hosting one of his infamous movie nights, and you knew there was no escaping it.
“Y/N, come on down!” Jack called from the living room. “It’s your favorite—you love this one!” You groaned quietly, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your face had lost its color, your eyes dull from days of crying and restless nights. You didn’t feel like facing anyone, least of all Trent. But Jack was persistent, and if you didn’t show, he’d come up to drag you downstairs himself. You hesitated at the living room door, anxiety twisting your stomach. The boys turned to greet you as you entered.
“Hey, Y/N!” Noah grinned, lifting his beer in your direction.
“Hey,” you mumbled back, trying to avoid anyone’s gaze. But then you saw him—Trent, sitting on the couch, quiet and reserved. His usual easy smile was gone, replaced by something you couldn’t quite read.
“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, electrifying second. You froze, unable to respond. Your heart ached at the sight of him, at how badly you wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything and fix whatever was broken between you. But the weight of your guilt, of what you’d done and the way you’d left things kept your feet rooted to the spot.
“Come on, sit down,” Noah said, patting the space between him and Jack. You reluctantly made your way to the couch, sinking into the cushions and folding your arms protectively over your chest. The room felt stifling, and your awkwardness bled into your every movement. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, but you could feel Trent’s gaze on you. You tried to act normal, but the tension was unbearable. Every time Trent shifted in his seat or glanced your way, your chest tightened. Your emotions boiled under the surface, threatening to spill over. Finally, the pressure became too much. Your eyes began to well with tears, and you couldn’t stop them. You risked a glance at Trent, and his expression nearly broke you. He looked… pained. Like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. You couldn’t handle it. 
“I… I have to take a call,” you lied abruptly, your voice shaky as you stood up. Without waiting for a response, you darted upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. The second you closed your bedroom door, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. Tears streamed down your cheeks as guilt, regret, and longing consumed you. You hated yourself for getting mad about him waking you up before his friends came over, about what you’d done, about how you felt, and about how hopeless it all seemed. Downstairs, Trent’s eyes followed you until you disappeared. 
“Been so fucking weird lately”Jack nudged him, frowning
“I don’t know,” Trent lied, though the weight in his chest told him otherwise. He could feel the distance between you, and it was killing him.
Trent came upstairs not long after you fled, lying to the boys saying that he was running to the toliet, his heart racing as he hesitated outside your door. He glanced down the hallway, ensuring no one was paying attention, then knocked softly.
“Hey,” he said, his voice barely audible through the door. The moment you heard his voice, it was like a dam broke. A choked sob escaped your throat, and before you could stop yourself, tears were streaming down your face. Trent pushed the door open gently, stepping inside and closing it behind him. “C’mere,” he cooed, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling you into his arms. His warmth, his scent—it was all too much, and you dissolved into him, your face pressed against his chest. “Baby, please don’t be upset,” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt. “I don’t like making you cry.”  You shook your head, your words tumbling out between sobs. 
“I just want you to want me.” You cried. Trent’s arms tightened around you as he let out a shaky breath. 
“Please, baby, I do. I do.” He paused, his mind racing. “I’ll go down right now and tell them. Do you want that? Tell Jack everything?”
“No,” you whimpered, your voice small and raw.
“Baby…” he said softly, caution in his tone. He leaned back slightly, cupping your tear-streaked face with both hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Talk to me then. Be honest with me. Please.” He begged you. Asking the very thing Layla was telling you could help resolve it all. 
“I just want more than this,” you admitted, your voice cracking as more tears spilled over. Trent nodded slowly, his thumb brushing away your tears with careful precision.
 “I know. I know you do. We’re gonna do it, I swear.” He told you softly but surely. You looked up at him, the desperation in your eyes like a knife to his chest.
 “I just want you to like me.” Your words hit him harder than you could have imagined. His lips parted as if to argue, but instead, he pulled you back against him, his hand cradling the back of your head.
 “I do,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I really, really do, so much. Please don’t cry.” He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, swaying gently with you in his arms. He wanted to fix it all, to wipe away the hurt he’d caused, but your arms hung limply at your sides, and it shattered him. “Can you give me a cuddle, please?” he asked softly, his voice almost breaking. After a moment, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together. Trent let out a low hum of appreciation, resting his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m so sorry.” And in the quiet of your room, you both held on, trying to find comfort in each other even as the weight of everything unsaid loomed heavy between you. Trent went downstairs when it started to get suspicious. And then, after a long twenty minutes of regaining your composure upstairs, you finally mustered the courage to come back down. You moved through the hallway, hearing muffled laughter and the sounds of the movie playing in the cinema room. As you came to the doorway, Jack called out.
“Hey, can you grab me a drink?” He yelled. You stopped in your tracks and turned, your tone sharp. 
“Get it yourself.” You quipped. Jack gave you a look, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. Before you could keep walking, Trent’s voice broke through the tension, smooth and casual. 
“Actually, Y/N if you’re up, mind grabbing me a water?” You froze, his request catching you off guard. There was no way you could say no to him right now, not after everything. 
“Fine,” you mumbled, trying not to betray the softness creeping into your voice.
“Of course!” Jack and Noah mocked in unison, bursting into laughter. You shot them a glare, your cheeks burning. 
“It sounded like more people wanted something after Jack said something, so I thought I’d be nice,” you argued, though even you knew it was flimsy.
“Right, right,” Jack teased, rubbing it in. “You’ve never been this “nice” to us. Where’s our special treatment?” 
“Bro, we’ve never bought her a car. It’s just not gonna happen.” Noah added jokingly 
“She lives in my house!” Jack yelped dramatically trying to justify why you should be ‘nice’.  He was kidding because if he really took a moment you did everything for him. Rolling your eyes, you flicked their ears as you walked past them. 
“Idiots.”  You muttered strutting to the kitchen.  When you returned with the drinks, you handed them out silently, ignoring their smug grins. You settled into the empty seat next to Noah, which happened to be just at the end of the couch where Trent was sitting. As the others turned their attention back to the movie, you felt a gentle tap on your leg. You glanced down to see Trent’s foot nudging you, and when you looked up, he shot you a wink. A tiny smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, and you reached over to squeeze his foot lightly. The brief exchange felt electric, like your own private conversation in a room full of people. No one else noticed, already engrossed in the film. But for the rest of the evening, the space between you and Trent felt charged, his occasional taps a quiet reminder that you weren’t as distant as you feared.
The air felt thick with tension as you sat at the end of the couch, acutely aware of Trent’s eyes lingering on you. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you tried your best to ignore it, keeping your focus on the film.
“You look cold,” Trent said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet. Before you could respond, he pulled his jumper over his head and tossed it at you casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 
“Yeah, put some clothes on, sheesh,” Jack, ever ready to tease you, quipped as he glanced at you in your tiny tank top. His joke made you shrink slightly, but your gaze quickly fell to the jumper in your lap. It was that jumper—the one you’d borrowed just the other day when you went to the beach. The one you had wanted so badly to keep, but knew you couldn’t. Yet, now it was here, draped over your legs like a gift. The other boys erupted into playful jeers as you hesitated, examining the jumper. Noah, of course, couldn’t let it slide, teasing and pinching at you like an annoying older brother.
“Oh, look at her blushing now,” he teased.
“Okay, okay,” you muttered, waving them off as you pulled the jumper over your head. The scent of Trent enveloped you instantly—warm, clean, and entirely him. It felt like a secret hug, his presence wrapped around you even when he was sitting a few feet away. For the next half hour, you fidgeted in your seat, feeling distracted by the way the jumper clung to your body and how Trent’s foot occasionally brushed yours. Eventually, you stood, brushing your hands on your thighs. 
“I’m actually tired now and done with you lot so I’m going up,” you announced, pretending to be annoyed as you turned to leave.
Once upstairs, you shut your door and immediately grabbed your phone. Your heart thudded as you typed, 
'Thank you, T xx. Come give me my goodnight kiss pls'
You hit send before you could overthink it. A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door. You opened it to find Trent standing there, his lips tugged into a small, bashful smile.
“Can’t say no to you,” he murmured, stepping inside and pulling you into his arms. You tilted your head up, your hands resting on his chest.
 “Good. I’d hate for you to start now,” you whispered before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart ache and soar all at once. But in the quiet sanctuary of your bedroom, the kiss between you became hungry and unrelenting. His hands moved over your body like he couldn't get enough, fingers curling into your hips, tugging you closer, as though even the sliver of space between you was too much. You clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to your level, your breath hitching as the intensity of the moment consumed you.
"T," you murmured out of breath, pulling back just enough to look up at him. Your chest rose and fell as you steadied yourself, your lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "You like movies so much, maybe we should make one." His brows furrowed slightly, the intrigue written all over his face. 
"What are you on about?" he asked, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to gauge if you were joking. Before he could process it further, you moved quickly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. 
"What're you doing?" he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and amusement. But there was also a flicker of heat in his eyes as he began to realize where this might be going. You opened the camera app, thrusting the phone into his hand with a cheeky grin. Trent looked down at you, bewildered yet intrigued, as you began kissing along his jawline, trailing down to his neck. He tilted his head back, letting out a soft groan, the sensation overwhelming him.
"You're mad," he muttered, but his voice was thick with desire, his free hand gripping your shoulder as you sank to your knees before him. Your hands moved deftly, undoing the button and zipper of his trousers, your eyes locked on his. 
"C'mon," you teased, your voice sultry, "just press record." His lips parted as he stared down at you, caught between disbelief and complete surrender to the moment. And so he did. He stared through the screen watching you take his hardening cock out. Your eyes darkened staring up at him as you let a line of spit fall from your lips onto his pulsating cock. He winced. You placed your thumb over his slit leaking pre cum. You massaged over it hard and he groaned as you continued sliding your hand down his base. 
“Baby” he said the pet name as he took a few seconds watching the scene unfolding in front of him in two fold; one viewing on the screen reflecting the scene back at him, the other in real time. “So fucking good f’me” he whispered trying to bit back a groan. This was so beyond risky. He needed to be quiet. Giving him head while all his mates were just downstairs. Your mouth perfectly wrapped around his shaft, as it was meant to be there around him. The motion of your head bobbing up and down had him in awe trying to suppress his moans. He reached to grab your hair with vigor, guiding your movements as you hollowed your cheeks around him, the corners of your eyes now shining with tears as he gagged you with his length. “You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth baby” He cooed as you moaned at the compliment. You could feel your pussy flutter at the compliment. You stared at him through your lashes as you decided to take him deeper, hitting the back of your throat.  He fucked your face, his cock hitting deep in your throat with every thrust. You were drooling at the corners of your mouth gagging on him trying to breathe through your nose when he grabbed onto your face.
“Going to be a good girl and take all of me? Swallow for me?” He could barely get the words out when your tongue swirled around him as you nodded. He released into your throat coating it in his cum. He grunted at the feeling. You lazily continued sucking him until you milked him of everything. Finishing by gently kissing the head of his cock as you sat back onto your heels.
"Did you like filming me?" you asked with a cheeky smile, your voice breathless, your chin was slicked with trails of his cum and your spit. Trent’s hand with the phone was trembling a little and it made you smile, a small visual you did a good job.
“God baby … fuck. Yeah, I did.” Trent exhaled trying to regulate his breathing. “You’re so good f’me” he cooed. You smiled again as s he stopped the recording and pocketed his phone before he reached out pulling you up to him by your arms. He kissed your temple pulling you into his chest more as he breathed heavily. You smile continued to grow against his chest. 
There was an international break. Trent was away and it was hard on you even if he was only down south. You just wanted to be with him but instead you found yourself with the person you wanted to be with least. The person you were having the hardest time being around lately… your brother. The sun was dipping low, casting a warm, golden light through the car windows, but the atmosphere inside was anything but serene. You sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly against your chest as if to shield yourself from the tension swirling around you. Jack was at the wheel, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel while he animatedly recounted his Monaco stories, his voice filling the car with a steady hum. The air was heavy, though, and you felt like you were balancing on the edge of a knife. The soft rumble of the car engine mixed with Jack’s voice should have been comforting, but every word he said seemed to jab at the precariousness of your situation. Your heart raced, your palms felt clammy against your thighs, and the suffocating weight of the secret you carried seemed to double with every mile. The car smelled faintly of Jack’s cologne and the remnants of takeaway coffee he’d tossed into the cupholder earlier. You stared out the window, trying to ground yourself in the passing blur of countryside, but it wasn’t working. Jack’s voice kept pulling you back into the moment, into the conversation you weren’t sure how to navigate.
“… and so he was literally mobbed. All these little lads were losing their minds trying to get a picture so Trentski took one with each kid cause he’s Trent but then we were late for the boat...” Jack’s salad of words, you assumed was a story, continued on but you started to pay more attention when you heard his name. The car ride became a minefield of emotions. You tried to focus on the passing scenery, but Jack’s words stuck like thorns in your chest.
“That’s sweet though. I miss him a lot,” you had said, without thinking. The second the words left your mouth, you felt Jack’s sharp gaze on you.
“What?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. Your stomach sank. The heat of embarrassment and panic crept up your neck as you tried to recover, your voice scrambling for an excuse. 
“What?” you echoed back, feigning innocence. “I feel like he’s usually around, and now he’s away.” There was a tense pause, the weight of his doubt palpable in the confined space of the car. For a moment, you wondered if he was piecing it all together, but then Jack’s suspicion lingered for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.
“Hmm,” he muttered, his suspicion fading. “You never miss me like that,” he snapped, though there was a teasing edge to his tone.You were already in freefall, the tension in the car mounting when Jack’s teasing words finally shattered through your fragile façade.
“You wouldn’t know if I missed you… you’d be away,” you quipped, trying to deflect, but your voice wavered ever so slightly. Jack laughed, a sharp sound that made your stomach churn.
 “Fine but Jesus, you’re actually so embarrassing for him. He hasn’t even been around much lately,” he teased, and though his words were light, they landed like stones. You forced a laugh, your heart racing as you tried to mask your discomfort. But Jack wasn’t done. “What are you going to do when he gets married, huh? You know he’s seeing someone, right?” He cooed teasingly. The ache was instant, spreading through your chest like wildfire. You rolled your eyes at him, feigning indifference. 
“Shut up, Jack,” you muttered, hoping he’d drop it. But the words haunted you. He’s seeing someone. It shouldn’t have mattered—it didn’t make sense for it to hurt the way it did because you were that someone. But it did. What if you weren’t that someone though…The thought of Trent with someone else, giving someone else the tenderness he gave you in secret, made your stomach twist. The car fell into an awkward silence. You stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything else that might betray you. Jack, oblivious to the turmoil in your chest, hummed along to the music, his earlier suspicion forgotten. But you couldn’t forget. The weight of the lie you were living, the secrets you were keeping from your own brother, felt heavier than ever. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to push the ache down. And yet, you couldn’t shake it. The guilt, the longing, the fear—it all churned within you as you gripped the edge of your seat, praying that the drive would end soon. Jack laughed again, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside you. You turned your gaze back to the window, hoping the conversation would end there, but the weight of his words lingered like an unwelcome guest. The rest of the ride was spent in suffocating silence, your hands gripping your thighs tightly. You kept your face turned away, willing the tears that threatened to prick at the corners of your eyes to stay hidden. The secret you carried felt like it was suffocating you, the walls of the car closing in as the miles ticked by. And as Jack laughed at his own jokes and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, you felt the crushing weight of the lie you lived—both to yourself and to him.
In the dressing room at St. George’s Park, Trent sat on the bench, lacing up his boots while the chatter of the England squad buzzed around him. They were talking fixtures, rivalries, and upcoming games.
“Man United’s coming up, yeah?” one of his teammates said, tossing his training top aside. “Should be a good one, mate. They’re in decent form.” Trent nodded, keeping his focus on his boots. 
“Yeah, big game. Away as well.” He chirped nonchalantly. His teammate glanced at him with a grin, reaching to find Trent’s competitive edge.
 “Don’t you have some personal stakes in that one? Doesn’t your best mate’s sister date that Josh lad?” Trent froze for half a second, his jaw tightening. He kept his head down, hoping his reaction wasn’t noticeable. The mention of your name made Trent’s stomach twist, even as he tried to focus on tying his boots. The casual comment about Josh left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t stop himself from snapping.
“Nah, bro. She’s not with him. Fuck that kid,” Trent shot back, his tone sharp and unfiltered. The group of players exchanged quick, surprised glances. His reaction was louder than it should’ve been, and he instantly regretted it.
“Woah, relax, mate,” one of his teammates said, chuckling lightly. “Only a match.” he said, holding up his hands with a laugh. Trent sighed, leaning back on the bench and rubbing a hand over his face. He could feel their curiosity thick in the air. Trent’s mood simmered, but he tried to play it off, reaching for his water bottle. He hated that people still thought there was anything between you and Josh. It made his blood boil. The teammate sensed some tension but was unwilling to drop the topic. 
“I thought you were seeing that Jess girl anyway,” another chimed in, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction—or maybe just stir the pot. Trent frowned, confused. 
“I don’t even know Jess like that. Where’s everyone getting this information from?” Trent asked frustratingly.
“Jess, mate! Megan’s friend. I saw them out in Manchester the other month.” His teammate grinned as if he was solving some puzzle. “Sorry, I just thought you were with her, and I thought Y/N was still with Josh. So… if that’s not true…” He raised an eyebrow, clearly fishing for more information. Trent felt the possessive heat rising in his chest.
“No!” Trent snapped, but it came out too quickly. He shook his head, trying to sound more composed. “No, bro. Just stop chatting nonsense about Jack’s sister, yeah?” Trent said firmly, his voice more serious than it had been all morning. The group fell quiet for a beat before one of them laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension. But Trent’s mind wasn’t in the room anymore. He was thinking about you, about how much he hated keeping this secret, about how much it hurt to hear your name in someone else’s mouth, tied to someone else’s life. He was done holding back. Something had to give. The thought of you with Josh, of anyone else thinking they could have you—it made his blood boil. Trent didn’t want to share you anymore. Not with rumors, not with anyone. He was ready to let the world know. For the first time, caution didn’t seem worth it.
After training, Trent sat alone in his room, his phone in his hand, the tension in his chest making it hard to breathe. The conversation in the dressing room earlier had stirred something deep in him, a gnawing need to reach out to you. His friends’ comments had irritated him, but what really got to him was how much he hated keeping you in the shadows. He hated the uncertainty, the idea that you might not know how much he truly cared. He stared at your name on his screen, the familiar pang of longing hitting him harder than usual. He swiped at the screen, hovering over the call button. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed it, his heart racing as the line rang. You picked up on the third ring.
“Hey,” you said softly, your voice cautious, like you knew something was coming.
“Hi, baby,” he replied, his voice immediately dropping into something warm and gentle. It was so full of emotion that it caught you off guard. “What are you doing?” He asked sheepishly.
“Not much,” you answered, frowning at his tone. “Why? You okay, T?” You cooed gently. 
“I just…” He paused, trying to gather the courage to say what he felt. His hand ran over his hair as he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees. “I miss you.” The simplicity of his words stopped you in your tracks. 
“What?” you whispered, caught between suspicion and disbelief.
“I miss you all the time,” he confessed, his voice heavy with longing. “Everything, baby. I miss it all; your smile, your laugh… the way you look at me like I’m the only one who matters. I miss having you in my arms.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and it made your heart ache.
“T,” you murmured, your voice shaky.
“I know this might seem out of the blue,” he continued, pressing forward. “But I’ve been sitting here thinking, and I can’t stop. I don’t want to wait till I’m back. I need to see you.” His vulnerability was disarming. You had heard him sweet before, but this was different. His words weren’t casual or playful; they were raw, unfiltered.
“What’s going on?” you asked softly, trying to piece together the sudden intensity.
“I just… I need you,” he said, his voice breaking a little. You couldn’t believe how sad he sounded. “Come down to London tomorrow. Please. I’ve got the day off, and I want to spend it with you. I want you. No hiding, no excuses. Just us.” Your breath hitched at the desperation in his voice. You tried to stay logical, reminding yourself that traveling down to London wasn’t exactly practical. But the way he sounded—like he was holding on by a thread—made it impossible to refuse.
“T, baby, I don’t know,” you said hesitantly, your emotions warring with your logic.
“Please,” he pleaded, the word coming out softer, more vulnerable. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just… I miss you so much, baby. I just want to hold you and talk to you without feeling like we’re running out of time.” The raw emotion in his words broke down your walls, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. You were scared—of what this meant, of what it might change—but you also wanted him just as badly.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Yeah?” he asked, hope lighting up his voice.
“Yeah,” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the tears in your eyes. “I’ll book a train for tomorrow.”
“Thank you, baby,” he said, relief flooding his tone. You could practically hear the smile through the phone. “I can’t wait to see you. Promise me you’ll text me when you’re on the train, yeah?”
“I will,” you replied, your heart pounding. As you hung up, you sat back on your bed, your phone still clutched in your hand. A mix of excitement and anxiety churned in your stomach. You opened the train app, booking your ticket with shaky hands, all while replaying his words in your head. The thought of seeing him again, of being close to him, filled you with both hope and fear. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like things might finally be moving forward. And as much as it scared you, you couldn’t deny how much you wanted it.
The moment you stepped into the London hotel suite, you felt like you’d entered another world. The soft glow of dimmed lighting reflected off the rich wood paneling and modern gold accents, creating an atmosphere of intimate luxury. Plush furniture, sleek and inviting, filled the spacious room. A bottle of champagne sat chilling on the marble bar, a silent invitation for celebration. Trent was already there, waiting for you. He leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, his casual outfit—just a fitted black t-shirt and joggers—looking comfortably him. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and a warm smile spread across his face as he opened his arms.
“Come here, pretty girl” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection. You crossed the room to him, slipping into his embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around you like he never wanted to let go. The scent of his cologne enveloped you, clean and intoxicating, and you melted against his chest. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his fingers running gently through your hair. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his breath warm against your temple. You leaned back to look at him, your hands resting against his chest. 
“I missed you,” you replied with a pout, your voice soft but full of emotion. He cupped your face gently, his thumb stroking your cheek as he studied you, like he couldn’t believe you were really there. You slipped in comfortable silence after that, the weight of the week melting away in his presence. The city buzzed far below, but up here, it was just the two of you in a cocoon of peace. The night unfolded gently. Trent ordered room service, insisting on your favorites. You laughed as he fed you little bites, both of you teasing and playing but never breaking the intimacy of the moment. You fell into the shower later on, taking the meaning of hot and steamy to new heights with him until the early morning creeped in. 
You found yourselves sprawled across the massive bed, wrapped up in each other and the sheets, talking about everything and nothing. His fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as he listened to you, his gaze never wavering. In the quiet hours of the early morning, you lay tangled together, his arms strong and steady around you as he held you close. The faint sound of the city below hummed through the glass, but you felt safe, cherished, and completely at home.
“Wanted to be with my girl,” Trent mumbled against your skin, his voice low and lazy as he held you close. The sheets of the hotel bed cocooned you both, your bodies tangled in the soft warmth of the early morning.
“Your girl, huh?” you teased, a smug grin tugging at your lips as you felt his arms tighten around you.
“Yeah,” he murmured with certainty, his words melting into the curve of your neck as he pressed a kiss there. “Always have been.”
“Yeah?” you challenged playfully, your voice light but carrying just enough curiosity to coax more out of him. “Even with my ex-boyfriends? Still yours?” You teased him with a smirk. A low groan escaped him, the sound vibrating against your skin.
 “They didn’t exist,” he muttered, his tone laced with stubbornness. You giggled, running your hands slowly up his back, feeling the smooth expanse of his muscles beneath your fingertips.
 “No? That’s funny because I’m pretty sure they did, T.” You cooed as you ran your hands up and down  on his warm bare skin. 
“They didn’t,” he insisted, his voice firmer now, though you could hear the hint of a smirk creeping into his tone.
“You’re delusional,” you laughed softly, your fingers playing with the short coils on the top of his head. 
“No, baby,” he said, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze was so intense, so full of conviction, it made your breath catch. “You’ve been mine. Always.” He confirmed as if almost a command. His words carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. He wasn’t just being playful—he was staking his claim, and you could feel the raw emotion in his voice.
“Okay, T,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. But Trent wasn’t finished. His fingers trailed down to the delicate Van Cleef butterfly necklace resting against your collarbones. He toyed with it for a moment, his thumb brushing the charm before he spoke again.
“You knew,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin. “You wore this necklace. There’s no way you didn’t think about me with other guys while you had this on.” Your eyes widened, a warm flush creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond, but he smirked, cutting you off before you could say a word. He was right though. “My baby… You used to come home from dates,” he continued, his voice low and teasing now, “and still be all over me.” His smirk widened, and you could feel the curve of his perfect, plump lips against your skin. The memory of those days—of how tangled everything had been, how impossible it had felt to stay away from him—flooded your mind.
“You’re so smug,” you murmured, but your cheeks burned as your hands slid up his back again, seeking some sort of grounding.
“And I’m right,” he teased, his lips trailing kisses along your jaw. You sighed, a mix of exasperation and surrender. 
“God, you’re impossible.” You feigned a sigh.  
“But you wanted me,” he whispered, his voice softening as his kisses slowed, becoming tender instead of playful. “And I wanted you… and now look how good, baby, hmm?”  You couldn’t argue with that. Instead, you pulled him closer, your arms wrapping tightly around him. 
“Yeah,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his temple. “It’s good.” And in that moment, with his warmth surrounding you and his words echoing in your ears, you felt it—there was no one else. There never had been. 
Reflecting back, the memories played like a reel in your mind, each frame more bittersweet than the last. You could still picture the way you used to come home from dates. Your heels clicking against the floor, your shoulders slumped, and frustration practically oozing from your pores. Jack always seemed to be holding court in the living room, his friends sprawled across the couches and floor, a casual chaos you didn’t have the energy for.
“How was it?” Jack would ask, his voice tinged with mild amusement as he glanced up at you.
“Shit, if you’re back already,” Noah would add with a grin, never missing the chance to tease. And then there was Trent. Always there, perched on the couch, looking entirely too smug for someone who hadn’t said a word yet. His eyes would meet yours, dark and knowing, and just before you could make it out of their sight, he’d send you a wink. It wasn’t loud or showy, but it was enough to halt your steps and make your stomach twist. You’d plop down on the couch with a dramatic grunt, trying to deflect their teasing, but you never could escape Trent. Not really. The teasing would persist, Jack and Noah laughing and throwing out half-hearted insults, but Trent’s presence was magnetic. He didn’t join in. Instead, he always found a way to tether you to him, his touch subtle but undeniable. A pinch at your side that made you jump, a squeeze on your thigh that sent warmth crawling up your neck, or even a gentle swipe at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that felt misplaced—but only because it wasn’t meant to. And then there were his words, deceptively kind but maddeningly ambiguous.
 “Not the right one,” he’d say softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. You remembered wanting to scream every single time. You wanted to tell him that you already knew. You’d known for what felt like forever. The right one wasn’t out there, somewhere in the endless sea of mismatched dates and wasted time. The right one wasn’t a stranger you had yet to meet. The right one was him. The right one was sitting next to you, his knee brushing yours, his smirk curling at the edges of his lips, and his fingers ghosting over your skin like he was leaving breadcrumbs for you to follow. And you did. God, you followed him every time.
But Trent never went further, and neither did you. So, you’d sit there, your heart in your throat and your mind spinning with all the things you couldn’t say, while he acted like he hadn’t just unraveled you with a look, a touch, or a single maddening phrase. And you hated it. You hated how much you wanted him and how deeply he had you tied in knots, yet you couldn’t hate him. You never could. Because every time he touched you, every time he said something that felt like a breadcrumb but never a full map, you hoped. You dreamed. And you stayed.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!
Next part - Chapter 13 xx
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cripplecharacters · 3 days ago
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Hi! So I know that you should not make Up Name Signs for characters if you're not d/Deaf but I was wondering if a character has a name that's a noun/verb (Bumblebee, Swan, Swoop, Starscream, Pheonix, Bluestreak, etc (I write/draw a lot of transformers)), is it too close to making up a name sign if I draw a character using the sign(s) of the nouns and/or verbs to refer to the character with that name instead of finger spelling it? (So like, the sign for star and then the sign for scream or the sign for swan or swoop) Thank you for your help!! You all are really helpful!! <3
Hi!
Yes, this is still making up a name sign. I know some people whose name signs are signs related to their name or the meaning of their name, but for the most part this is not how to translate a name into sign. If your name is Star you introduce yourself as S-T-A-R, not STAR.
If you need shorthand for a character without a sign name, initials (e.g. S-S for starscream) or abbreviation (e.g. S-T-A-R for starscream) works once you've established who that person is. You also might find out the character has a name sign given by Deaf viewers!
Mod Rock
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short-honey-badger · 8 hours ago
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Doll
Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader
Summary: Shanks meets an escaped slave from Marie Geois and swears to teach her how to live.
Notes* hey lovelies. As you can see from the oneshots, I'm finally back in action. I hope you enjoy the start of my new series that I'm planning to help me really get going. Expect some protective Shanks and some darker elements. Pretty fast pace just cause that how I enjoy writing him lol. I've really missed writing for him and sharing works with you wonderful people. Anyway, enjoy! ❤️
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There aren't many things that could surprise Shanks on the Grand Line anymore, but the woman that sat at the bar could definitely be considered a good one. He didn't recognize her, but he could tell that she was in a league above the other patrons that sat around the bar. She sat in the back corner, a bottle of booze sat on the table in front of her that she occasionally took a pull from. Shanks sat at the front and got the attention of the bartender.
“Who's she?” He asked and the man shrugged as he cleaned a dingy glass.
“Dunno. She blew in a couple of days ago. She pays, so I don't ask questions.”
Shanks huffed and ordered a drink for himself, “And whatever she's been drinking, too.”
Drinks in hand, Shanks stood from the bar and ambled over to the table where the woman sat. He plonked the bottle down and, head tilting to the side, “This seat taken?”
You looked up, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a daze and gave the redhead a smile once you focused on the ale he'd sat beside your empty one. “Is now.”
Shanks grinned and plonked down in the chair opposite you and leaned back and eyed you from under his bangs, “You from about here?”
The woman shakes her head, a mysterious little smirk painting her lips, “Nope. And I can tell that you aren’t either.”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing in thought before her eyes brighten like a bulb has gone off, “You’re Shanks, right?”
The emperor huffs and gestures to himself, “You caught me.”
He doesn’t expect the woman to go quiet, an almost contemplative look about her as she shifts in her chair. He can’t help but lean in, curious despite himself.
“Maybe you could help me out then?” You murmur and flick your eyes up to meet his own. Shanks is surprised to see the desperation lingering there, hidden behind the self-assurdness that you seem to wear like a second skin. What would a girl like you need help with?
“Alright, I’ll bite. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t let my money go to waste though, doll,” he murmurs and gestures to the untouched ale that he’d brought over. You smile in thanks and take a sip, wetting your mouth as you get ready to spill. You can only hope that the emperor will accept.
With shaking hands you reach up and unbutton the top few notches of your shirt, just enough to expose your left shoulder where the brand still tugs uncomfortably at your skin. Even though you’ve had the brand for years now, you’ll never get used to the sickening way it pulls at your skin. The constant reminder that you were owned.
Shanks sucks in a sharp breath, the brand of a slave staring back at him in before he tears his eyes away and looks back at you, “How’d you escape?”
You grimace and button back up, eyes flinty, “My old master,” you hiss the word in disgust, “Sent me on an errand in Sabaody so I took my chance. That was about a month ago now. They’re stil looking for me.”
“Who got your off the archipelago?” Shanks asks and downs half his tankard of rum in one go. He’s met slaves before while visiting the string of islands, but with Silvers there, Shanks steered clear most of the time unless he happened to drift close. The though that even after all that Fisher Tiger had done, the Celestial Dragons still kidnapped and baught slaves. It disgusted the emperor to have seen that brand on a woman like you.
You shrug and bite your bottom lip. You busy your hands by playing with the ring of condensation that the bottle of ale has left behind, “Didn’t really catch their names. I stowed away the first ship I could find and I’ve been drifting ever since. I just… I can’t go back to that place Shanks. I don’t want them to find me.”
Shanks doesn’t know what makes him reach out, but he takes both your hands in his own, and wow, you were such a small thing weren’t you? He squeezes your palms and gives you a confident grin to hide the rage that threatens to erupt like an active volcano. He may have just met you, but there is a feeling in the pit of his stomach that tells him that he’d met someone special. Someone that could change his life, and he finds himself hardpressed to even think of letting you slip away from him.
“Don’t worry, doll. I won’t ever let that happen,” Shanks swears, and it’s then that a thought crosses his mind. A blush flushes his face and he peers at you, “Maybe you outta tell me your name, though. Or I could just keep calling you doll. Either works for me.”
Your laugh sends a shot of heat straight to his stomach, and your smile could light up the sky, “My name is _, but you can keep calling me Doll if you’d like.”
Shanks meets your grin with one of his own and then stands, carefully pulling you up with him, “Well, doll. How about you come meet my crew?”
Shanks stays close to you for the rest of the evening, introducing you to each one of his crewmates and pointing out what they do aboard the ship. You smile and make conversation, though some of it is stilted and awkward, like you aren’t sure how to talk to someone so casually. You loosen up after a couple more drinks, and find yourself leaning against your new captain, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you watch the crew’s antics.
“I don’t want to be a burden to you, Shanks. Do you think that you could teach me?”
Your voice is soft, breath featherlight against his skin, and Shanks thinks that he would do anything for you in that moment. Instead, he tips a bottle of rum up to his lips and takes a deep swig before he answers.
“Sure, sweetheart. What do you want to know?’
Your eyes burn with a sort of determination that the emperor doesn’t see often, and it makes anticipation well up in his chest as you lick your lips and look at him.
“Everything, Shanks. I want to know everything.”
He sets the bottle away so that he can give you his full attention. He can feel the air thicken, the winds and sea changing as he dips his head and reaches out to cup your face in his hand. He swipes his thumb along your jaw, then your chin, eyes never leaving your own.
“Then that’s what I’ll do, Doll. I’ll teach you how to live, yeah?”
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suzukiblu · 2 days ago
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Thank-you sentences for Kris behind the cut; I was offered dealer's choice and picked “mirror mirror”. relevant tags: clonecest, gender play, roleplay, daddy kink (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Fuck, you’re so into this,” he breathes raggedly as he plasters himself down against the other’s back, a little too come-stupid to hold back the break in character, and Match– 
Match– 
Match bites his lip, and keeps his hips tilted up just perfectly for the deepest possible place Kon can get inside him; keeps himself up on the balls of his feet. Kon pictures him in heels. It is very fucking distracting, as a picture, and not in a helpful way. 
“Yeah,” Match mumbles, barely audible, and Kon just about burns alive even before he gets to, “You're my favorite, Daddy.” 
Kon really, really regrets the fact he just came. Even half-Kryptonian stamina isn’t gonna let him keep fucking the bastard right now. 
Though if they’re talking superpowers in sex, well–his TTK really never has let him down. 
Kon wraps his TTK around his dick–concentrates it around his dick, more like–and keeps it a hard and thick pressure inside Match, even as his actual cock tries to soften underneath it. Match makes another hitched little noise, and Kon nuzzles the back of his neck a little clumsily, trying to just–focus. Just get himself back into being Match’s “daddy”, at least for now. 
Or being his special little princess’s daddy. Just, like, however his dick wants to phrase that right now. 
“Please,” Match says, his voice flickering a little hesitant, and Kon drops a soft little kiss behind his ear and slides his hands up his sides; keeps his TTK-wrapped dick deep inside him, even if fucking him with it would probably fucking hurt at this point. It’d be worth it, definitely. 
“You don’t have to ask, sweetheart,” he manages, and mostly gets himself under control. “Already told you I'd let you come on my cock as many times as you wanted, didn't I? Let you keep him warm all night? Let you be the pretty little whore you love being as long as you wanna.” 
Match whimpers. Kon strokes his hands heavier back down his sides and presses down tighter against his back and gets him squirming under them; under him. His dick’s too oversensitive for the way Match clutches up around it, even with his TTK in the way, but he doesn't give a fuck. 
He wonders, suddenly, if that’s part of why Match keeps fucking leaving him so fucking quick. If he can’t–what, goddamn justify sticking around if he’s not getting off for it. 
They’ve got the same powers, after all. The same stamina. And Kon really doesn’t usually need or want to go as many rounds as they always seem to end up going. Really does wish Match would just, like–fucking stay and talk to him a little more often. Or just literally fucking ever, even. 
He doesn’t really know how he feels about the fact he’s regularly fucking somebody who won’t even sit down and eat a pizza or watch shitty reality TV or even sleep with him, sometimes. 
But if maybe Match feels like he has to leave, when he doesn’t have the “right” excuse to stick around anymore . . . 
Kon digs his fingers into Match’s ribs. Match squirms again–clutches up tighter around his dick again–and Kon licks the back of his teeth. 
He rolls his hips again, and Match whimpers again. A quiver goes up his thighs, and Kon presses him down against the top of the dresser and slides his hands down to grip his ass and knead in tight. 
“Daddy,” Match whines half-senselessly, and Kon loops an arm tight around his waist and nuzzles roughly into the crook of his neck and up his throat. Match clutches up even fucking tighter and Kon manages to make what should probably be a groan of overstimulated pain into a dirty grunt and rock his cock in to the root. Match whimpers louder, his ass pressing back pleadingly and fingers gouging the dresser again. 
Kon’s probably just gonna need to, like, fucking destroy the furniture after this, or else people might figure out exactly what kind of superpowers tore up this room and shit might get awkward, Kryptonian-ly speaking. Like, definitely he doesn’t want some rando tabloid reporter or online influencer asking Clark, “hey Superman, someone with your exact build and set of superpowers who kept their face carefully concealed from all the security cameras broke this paid-in-cash motel room somewhere in the Pacific Northwest with a sex marathon with an unknown partner; care to comment?” 
Yeah, definitely not. 
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majoryeager104 · 18 hours ago
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Meet-Cute
Part 1 | Part 2
Pro Hero! Touya X Gn!Reader
Summary: Pro hero Touya Todoroki finds a new favorite cafe
a/n: I tooootally didn’t write this bc I’m planning of opening a cafe or anything ✌️🫠
Warnings: Language, that’s about it hehe
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It was a long morning for Touya- his work wasn’t gonna do itself, and add that to the fact that his dad was constantly on his ass for the most random things imaginable, as if looking for excuses to berate Touya just to feel better about his own problems. It was exhausting, so Touya, pro hero name Regulus, would just avoid him at all costs.
Even if that meant hiding in the cute little cafe that had just opened down the street from the break in he had just resolved. He looked around as he walked in, the bell on the door cheerily announcing his entrance as the warm smells of coffee embraced his senses- it was nice, comforting. It kind of reminded him of all the times he’d visit mom in the ward, how they’d sit and drink coffee during visiting times. “welcome in!” Said your cheery voice from the counter. He glanced over, seeing you, clearly too busy to recognize him, or even glance over. He supposed that was better, it meant Endeavor was less likely to find him and criticize him for the next hour. He walked up to the counter- wouldn’t hurt to buy something, it’d probably be rude to just walk in and out again without doing so. You turned around to face him as he approached the counter, moving your hair out of your eyes. “Sorry for the wait what can I get for ya?” Touya stared for a moment, because holy shit were you gorgeous. Hair falling over your eyes, messy, but pretty, your soft gaze reflecting your positive mood, and that smile- he snapped back to reality “uh yeah can I get a-“ he glanced back up at the menu- act normal. His blue eyes frantically scanned the menu “uhh just a latte. Plain. Whatever.” He said, his eyes darting back to yours over and over again because wow. You giggled, nodding as you wrote down his order, and gave him the total. He was totally flustered now, looking back at you with an awkward grin as he regained some semblance of composure.
“So this place just opened right?” He said casually, the blush on his face totally negating his attempts to act causal. You nodded simply as he handed you cash for the order. “Since last week” you chirped, beginning his order. “Nice..” he glanced around. The place certainly seemed new, but it was bustling with people- he hadn’t noticed before just how many were looking at him. Of course. He grinned- being the number two hero was definitely gonna go to his head someday.
“what’s the name for the order?” Your voice caught his attention once more and his eyes flicked back to yours, and he paused. “Uh, Touya.” He said simply, pouting a bit. Did you really not know who he was? He watched as you nodded and continued his order. “I’ll let you know when it’s done, Touya” you said casually, going about your routine. This made him pout even further. Really? He watched as you made his coffee, your patient smile catching his eye. You really enjoyed doing this, huh? “Touya!” Your voice sounded out once more, almost startling him as you slid his coffee over the counter towards him. He’d been so transfixed watching you he hadn’t even noticed you were done. He especially hadn’t noticed that Endeavor was walking around outside, clearly looking for him.
Touya grinned at you, taking the small ceramic cup, his hand brushing yours. “Thanks…y/n” his eyes darted to your name tag. Pretty name. Your eyes widened slightly and you giggled- score 1 for Touya. “Of course, Touya. Come back anytime!” You said cheerily, grinning back at him. “Trust me, I will” he winked- your little wide eyed look clearly worked wonders on his confidence because now he was back to his suave self. You giggled again, and he couldn’t help but laugh too, just because your laugh was so damn contagious for him.
He sat down, his eyes lingering on you as he took a sip of the coffee, his gaze darting back out the window. he definitely did a double take when he finally spotted Endeavor, the fuzzy feelings totally replaced with exasperation and man was he glad that he didn’t get a takeout cup. he laughed once more, turning away to watch you work as his dad searched outside. He’d found the perfect hiding spot.
(Part 2?)
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