#they only see each other for a part of a year but it's the part of year that they can be the most themselves

[nottsangel]

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere. 

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

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[reignpage]

The Other Woman

Pt 1

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true. 

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting. 

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers. 

You keep reminding yourself of that. 

Satoru needs this. 

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by. 

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do. 

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for. 

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here. 

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm. 

You’re the wife. 

You’ve got the ring to prove it. 

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other. 

There’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t interrupt. 

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet. 

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end. 

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back. 

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell. 

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside. 

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him. 

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul. 

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back. 

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry. 

You’re just the woman he did. 

[kinardsevan]

What is your opinion on Tommy coming back or not? And in they case we see him again, do you think it’ll be just for closure (ex: Abby in season 3) or maybe for a BuckTommy second chance?

fun fact: i was considering doing an entire breakdown with a bunch of Oliver's interviews from the start of this arc until now to point to my opinion:

Tommy is coming back. The romcom theme is still in effect, and we're only about midway through the 3rd act.

Long story short (and without sources right now), I think that the interviews were actuallly pointing in this direction with the wording for a hot second. We have OS telling us that he thinks the best relationships have a "will they, won't they" bit where the audience and the characters are pining. We've seen this play out on the show. And we also have to remember that Oli knew during this interview that the breakup was coming. We also have the interview (I believe it was the Decider one I linked last week) where he mentions choosing to fight for the relationship or not. I feel like a lot of people have taken the context of that and twisted it into "they didn't do it right away, so they're not going to". Except, there's ANOTHER quote of relevance, which is Oliver talking about how Buck's queerness isn't tied to Tommy or Eddie, and only to himself.

Obviously, there have been things said since 806 that would point towards me being delulu, except, here's the issue: TM, OS and LFJr are NOT going to tell us that Tommy is coming back if that's the intention. It would spoil the surprise of it all, and the win of it all. What fun is there in that? What TM has said is that Tommy is Buck's romantic past but that doesn't mean he won't turn up again in the future (all relevant and true facts which do not shut down a reconciliation). Lou never out-and-out said he was done with the show. He's said time and time again that he wants to come back. TM has mentioned Tommy coming around again. OS literally said in an interview "they may run into each other on scene and have it be awkward".

Now obviously we don't actually have the full story with how things went down and the show decided to go with splitting the boys up. I think the fact that Lou has called out the bullying but says he wants to come back suggests that it wasn't him saying it was too much. I have two theories that could honestly run concurrent with one another:

Evan and Tommy break up in 806 at the end of the episode. With 911 having 18 episode seasons, this quite literally only makes up the first third of the season. It set up the beginning of the year for us. We're now two episodes into the second part of the season with a pretty clear idea of where the next three will go and suggestions (by fans, nothing official) that the "soonest" we could see LFJr again is 812. This is reasonable, as it would be the end of the middle of the season. Knowing that TM has suggested he might do a multi-episode season finale, pushing LFJr back into the show in 812 (or even the end of 811 if we go with my theory that Eddie could possibly leave around this time and Tommy helps them pack up/his and Buck's first time spending time around each other again), there would still likely be something around this time period that would be around when they would open the doors to this. As it is, we know that 809 and 810 go together, and then we'd have 811 to really flesh out the end of Buck's fling. I think there's even more possibility of LFJr being in this episode as well because if the plan is to bring them back together (which everything has been suggested so far ON screen in terms of keeping Tommy "in" the story), three-episode arc gives us several things: a. it allows the show to make the point that Buck's queerness is not intrinsically attached to Tommy; that his interest in men is as equal as he know his interest in women is. b. it gives them the ability to also show that his feelings for Tommy are not based in Tommy being his "first", or Evan needing to "discover" more about himself. They're in love with each other, and the show has given us the pieces for that. LFJr has acknowledged it in an interview, Tommy loves Buck. We also know that Tommy's line to Evan is "you'd end up breaking my heart, and I don't think I could deal with that". When I hear that sentence, what I'm actually hearing is "I'm already in love with you, and if I let myself fall more in love with you by being with you every day all the time and this ends, I won't survive it". By relation, we have Josh ask Buck if he loves Tommy and Buck waffles, but I think this has more to do with his lack of understanding of what a healthy love is in a relationship, given his past relationships. He never got to tell Abby. Ali left. and saying I love you to Taylor wasn't about the core of actually being in love with her, which I think is another important piece for BuckTommy: they don't just love each other, they're in love with each other. Still, sometimes it's hard to quantify that feeling, and I think (as I've referenced before), for Evan it was easier to ask Tommy to share a living space with him than to share how he feels about him because historically, things haven't worked out well for him when he's been in love outwardly. Further, the questions Josh asks Evan are directly correlated with loving someone, and Evan answers yes to all of them. (I don't think I need to add this, but he also sees a future with Tommy, talks about being engaged or married. He's serious about Tommy in a way he never has been before.)

There's also the theory that the breakup happened because of scheduling conflicts. Now obviously the show could've found other ways to work around LFJr's scheduling issues by having Tommy go on a trip or what-have-you, but let's remember OTHER things that have been said by OS in prior interviews: a. back in June, he did an interview where he stated that he wanted and hoped that BuckTommy would go through issues that couples normally go through in their first year together. He wanted normal issues. This storyline IS normal. b. he didn't want to repeat Tarlos. By the very definition of what the show is doing right now, we're not. Tarlos and BuckTommy are their own things with their own reasonings.

One of the other things I also keep being pulled back to is these issues: first of all, we know how LFJr plays with the 911 demo, given that they got to see it last season. It's why he was written into more episodes after his initial four episode arc and brought back. ABC has also used BuckTommy in their own adverts, which suggests that they are very supportive of the relationship continuing because it draws in viewers. Truly giving that up for good feels like dousing yourself in gasoline and then considering striking a match. Second, people also keep calling out that TM only plans a few weeks in advance. I believe this is true with story beats. We know that the writers room has a general idea on character arcs, thanks to some of the discussion on the cheese page post-806. I really struggle to believe that TM didn't know going into going forward with the breakup whether or not he wanted to bring LFJr back. We know he waffled back and forth on the idea of the breakup, meaning he probably had other solutions on his mind for whatever LFJr's schedule needed adjusting for, and this is what he decided on. Also, even if 8b hasn't been broken down yet (we know it hasn't), they would still know at this point what they do or don't want, what their ideas might be. Solidification for why Tommy should be brought back is directly shown in the reaction by the GA and the fandom to the breakup. They may not know exactly how that reunion happens yet, but what they have suggested is that Buck's new relationship will be short-lived. That he's using it to cope. We also know he's still processing the break-up and still misses Tommy. These are all things that point to the story not being over. Plus, I feel (once again), if the story really was over and they didn't have plans to continue this in 8b, LFJr wouldn't be talking about wanting to go back. It be far more "yeah that sucked, but it's over now and what can you do? I'm off to this new show and I'll never be back." (I've commented also on the fact that the fangirlish interview comment about his "i'm going here, doing this, have some opportunities" statement is very run-of-the-mill. Obvs I could mean something. Or it could literally just be a canned answer.) (This might feel a little off-center, but I think his commentary on trusting TM and knowing what he's doing in one of his post-806 interviews directly suggests that he believes the story is going to be handled properly.)

I realize at the end of the day, all of what I'm piecing together could mean zilch and Tommy could possibly never come back. They could truly just drop the story and never circle back around, set fire to a beautiful arc and lose thousands (possibly millions) of viewers. I've certainly suggested myself being one of them. But I don't see BuckTommy only getting an Abby fix for two reasons. LFJr wants to come back and continue the story, and Connie Britton only ever intended to do one season. Also, the fling has been called out as being planned to be short-lived. Why bother mentioning that if you don't have other plans for the story.

The last thing I'll leave you with is my commentary from the interview Oli and Aisha did with the guy from Chicago. That reporter obviously liked the BuckTommy storyline and said he's choosing to believe that the relationship is paused, not over. By relation, we had Oliver say three things: (1 and 2) Buck is still looking for love, both in himself and with another person. (3)The season is only half over. Circle that back to 806-808. Buck is finding love in himself by dealing with it in a healthy way (so far) with the baking. We've also seen the "cracks" Oli mentioned with his continued urge to want to text Tommy, as well as him fighting it off by baking (referencing the "pendulum swinging"). Looking for love in others will likely be this arc where he tries to deal/move on. I feel like we collectively watched the end of 806, and then 807 and 808 yelling at the TV "you're in love with him, piece it together already!" (or maybe that was just me???). But truly, whether it's a fling, his therapist, or Bobby/Maddie/Eddie who finally spells it out of or him, I think there will be a point at which we see that come to fruition. The seeds were sewn in for it in the scene with Josh. Now it's just about watching those seeds sprout.

Final note: we've had a good run up to this point with these two. Did we truly thing that the honeymoon phase would last forever? (I didn't. Conflict and the pink bubble popping have to happen eventually.) If we really want to suggest that what BuckTommy has is real, they have to go through this and come out the other side. I think everyone is justifiably frustrated due to the 4 month wait on new episodes (I personally would not have left people hanging quite like this, but that's just me), but the narrative does lead us toward what the show is doing with the suggestion that it does have a natural (and good) conclusion. (Possibly with a helicopter/truck/jeep crash?!)

And just as my singularly LAST note, here's my other thing: Evan and Tommy both have abandonment issues. (Tommy's are clear based on the break up and we know Buck's.) By that correlation, when these two finally get back together, they're never going to fucking let the other go.

(This was so much longer than I intended it to be, but that's my answer 😂😂😂😂😂😂)

[nanenna]

This Meeting Could've Been an E-mail

Sleepy King (Nanenna ver.) Masterpost

---

Diana, along with several other members of the JLD, were sitting in a meeting room. John had stood at the head of the table, having just finished outlining the situation for them, and it was grim. She knew if worse came to worse they may have to sacrifice the boy to keep the Ghost King from emerging into their world and wreaking havoc on a scale only Darkseid had managed before, but she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

“Would not the boy also smell my father’s blood?” Raven asked.

“Unfortunately. You an’ me are gonna stay back and help plan based on what everyone else reads from the boy.”

Diana nodded along, likely that was also her role.

Bruce, in full Batman gear, came stalking into the room.

“About bloody time,” John said with a huff.

“I would hope you have brought them all up to speed on what you know of Danny while waiting.”

John made an annoyed sound, then moved to sit in a chair near the head of the table. “`Course I did, just waiting on you now.”

Bruce stood in the spot John had just vacated. “Oracle.” The room dimmed and the holo-projector  in the table whirred to life. A picture of a small family standing in front of what appeared to be some sort of business run out of what used to be a family home (something fairly common in America, Diana had learned) took center stage. Obviously it was part of a website, Diana could see the web bar with several tabs across the top of the projection, but it was zoomed into the photo.

“This,” Bruce said, pointing to the teenaged boy in the photo from behind, “is Daniel “Danny” Fenton, the boy used in the ritual last night.”

Everyone leaned in closer to look the boy over. There was nothing remarkable about him, a bit thin perhaps but that could be due to the lankiness that comes with growth spurts.

“He’s from Amity Park, Illinois. The town advertises itself as the most haunted city in America, and from what we’ve gathered they earned it. Most pertinent is that last year they were under attack by the Ghost King.”

Oracle must have clicked to the next tab, the family picture was replaced by an online newspaper article titled “Ghost King Thwarted! Is Phantom a Hero?”

“I’m sorry, what happened?” Zatanna asked incredulously.

“There must be some mistake, there’s no way Pariah Dark got free without a single person feeling it,” Dr. Fate insisted.

Oracle scrolled down the page to show several blurry photos taken of a being that looked nothing like what they’d seen last night, alongside a sketch of the being. “Either this was well researched, or somehow this whole event was cloaked,” Bruce said grimly.

“Considering this wasn’t even the most recent attack on the town and a few of them sound like JL level threats,” Oracle’s modulated voice came from the table’s speakers as she quickly tabbed through a few more news articles before coming back to the one on the Ghost King, “I think it’s more likely something is blocking the whole town from us.” She scrolled down more to show several missing or broken photos. “Especially this Phantom person that keeps showing up in every article about ghosts. Even using the way back machine there’s not a single photo of him anywhere on the internet.”

“If the Ghost King has been out,” Captain Marvel asked, “where did he go? I doubt he’s spent the last year just hanging out in a small town in middle America.”

“According to this news article,” Bruce said, “Phantom, along with help from the whole town, managed to get the Ghost King back into the Sarcophagus and sealed him away again.”

John whistled, “That’s quite the feat, even with help.”

“Are you saying Danny was chosen as Pariah’s anchor because he’s from Amity Park?” Raven asked.

“Not just because he’s from Amity Park, his parents are also self proclaimed paranormal scientists and ghost hunters.”

Oracle tabbed to a few different pages, each one with a different picture of one of Danny’s parents proudly holding ominously glowing green weapons or with vials of glowing green goo. Sometimes one in the background of another.

John squinted at the photos, “Is that pure æther?!”

“How?!” Captain Marvel and Zatanna both asked incredulously.

“They call it ectoplasm,” Bruce stated.

John scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Ectoplasm is a word scam artists in the 1800s made up to steal money from grieving widows.”

“Nevertheless that is what they're calling it. Especially of note that the Fentons run their research out of their home.”

“Where their children live?” Diana asked, horrified at the implications.

“How are they still sane?” Captain Marvel asked incredulously.

“We're not sure they are,” Batman said grimly. Oracle tabbed to a street view of the Fenton home, easily identified by the large sign on the side. The strange addition to the home's roof was an… interesting choice.

The other attendees of the meeting were becoming agitated, several of them shifting in place as they got ready to speak.

“Before this goes any further,” Bruce stated firmly, “all this to say the cult that kidnapped Danny Fenton did so with intention. Amity Park certainly needs a full investigation, but it will have to wait until after this crisis with the Ghost King is dealt with.”

“Æther exposure might explain why the kid could handle being Pariah’s anchor.” John sighed then stood up. “Alright, if that’s all the info you got…”

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement.

“The clock’s ticking.” John left the room, the others all following after.

Diana hung back to speak with Bruce. “We’ll find a solution.”

Bruce just hummed to show he heard her. She knew he wasn’t handling the situation well, a child’s life was at stake and he had to hand the situation over to others. There was only so much she could reassure him, so she chose instead to go see the boy for herself.

The JLD members that had attended the meeting were all gathered in a kitchenette discussing logistics. Diana left them to it for the moment and simply went down the hall to the room she knew the boy was sleeping in. The lights in the hallway were already dimmed, thankfully, so she simply quietly opened the door and poked her head inside. Clark was sitting on a chair next to the boy’s bed. His posture was a relaxed sprawl, but his face was furrowed in concentration. He looked up and smiled when he saw Diana.

“How are you?” She asked at barely a whisper, knowing he’d hear her just fine.

“Guilty, now that I know he mistook me for his father.”

“Sadly this is an ask for forgiveness situation.” She gently pat Clark’s arm, trying to console him.

The boy himself looked like any other teenager, dead to the world while tucked safely into bed. She only hoped they would find some solution and tomorrow he would be tucked just as safely into his own bed.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Hello

See Me Through You Series

You had me at hello

Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later

Series Masterlist

Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.

Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.

Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.

“What does your ugly ass want?” You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.

“If I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!”

“No, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.” You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.

It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.

You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.

“Y/N!”

“Just kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?”

“Little one? I'm 6’1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.”

You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.

Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.

So the rumors were true, he was really here.

Joe Burrow

Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.

“Ja'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.”

“I thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.”

“YOU CAN'T PROVE IT!”

“Hmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.”

“I threw them away.”

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“Will you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.”

“Hmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.”

“Uh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!”

Click.

Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didn’t bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.

The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.

Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didn’t have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.

Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.

“HEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.” He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.

“Just you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.” You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.

“Hey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.”

You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.

“Didn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.” You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.

“It's entertaining to watch.”

“Hmm, because of the outfits?” You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.

“No, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.”

“It's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.”

“Something like that.”

“Stop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. I’m convinced she’s going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.” Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.

“I'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.” You told him as you gave him his headphones.

“I'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?”

“Hmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.” You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.

You usually hated working out with Ja’Marr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.

Joe and Ja’Marr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.

On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.

Deep down you knew that your brother didn’t like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didn’t notice was Ja’Marr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.

You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving Ja’Marr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.

“I fucking hate her boyfriend.”

“Wait, what? He’s here too?” Joe asked as he was looking around.

“No, I saw that he called her and I’m guessing that she went to go and call him back. I can’t fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But she’s happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what I’ve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.” He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.

“But he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. I’m always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didn’t take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesn’t deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten she’s not too far behind.”

It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and Ja’Marr could tell that you were visibly upset.

“Pebbles, what’s wrong?” Ja’Marr asked but you simply waved him off.

Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and Ja’Marr did.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s hurry up and get this done.” You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.

“You aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?”

Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.

“Don't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.”

“If you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.”

“JA'MARR! NO!”

“And Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.”

“I… I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.”

“I'm here for assistance if needed.” Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.

“Yeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.”

“Oh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.”

“Bam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.”

The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.

“Need some help?”

“Hmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.” You replied as you both laughed.

“I got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.”

Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.

As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.

“Do you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.”

“Yeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?”

“Hmm, let's find out. I think I can.”

Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.

“Thank you for that.” You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.

“Any time.”

“By the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.” You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.

“I'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.”

“How much? 50?” You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.

“Nah, you can do better than that.”

“Okay, 500.” You said as you shrugged.

“Damn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.”

“He's teaching you well.”

“Hmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.”

“Looks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?”

The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.

You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.

“So, did you break up with Trevor yet?” She asked as she began to stretch her arms.

“Uh? Good morning to you too, Erin.”

“Good morning, now did you two break up yet?”

“No, Erin.”

She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.

“Nobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.”

“But I like him!” You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.

“Yeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with Ja’Marr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.”

“Joe Burrow. He plays quarterback.”

“Oohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.”

“ERIN!”

“What? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!”

“I have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?”

“So? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.”

“And he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.” She replied as she smiled at you.

“I…-”

“What are you two going on about over here?” Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.

“Y/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!”

“Erin, shut up!”

“Oh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?” Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.

“I.. don't but I will find out for you.”

“And slip them my number while we're at it.”

“He helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.”

“Erin telling everyone's business as usual.”

“Hey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.”

“Sometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.” You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.

“And you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.”

Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.

After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.

Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.

“Ooh, there goes your man!”

“Erin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!”

“Why not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.”

Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.

“Oh shit, here comes your husband!”

“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”

“You'll get over it.” Erin said as she smiled.

“Morning princess. Just got out of practice?” He asked as he came up to both of you.

“Morning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.”

“Hey Erin, pleasure to meet you.”

“You too and the pleasure is all mine.” She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.

“I was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.”

“Y/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.” Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“And then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?” Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.

“You're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.”

“Lead the way.”

“We're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.”

Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.

On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.

“How are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?” You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.

“A little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.” Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.

“But that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?”

“I didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.”

“Hmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.”

“Always confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.” He responded as he gave you a small smile.

“I can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.”

“I've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.” Joe replied and you looked at him confused.

“Um? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.”

Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.

“It is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.”

“You need my number to be able to do that.” You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.

“Mine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.” Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.

“I've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.”

“Good, because I like being around you too.”

Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.

“Pebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!”

“I took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.” You told him as you stabbed your eggs.

“WAIT, you took Joe!?!?”

“Yes, say hi. You're on speaker.”

“Hey Ja'Marr.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.

“Joe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.”

“I got you.”

“Bye, baby brother.”

“Wait! I didn't give you my order!”

“Text it to me, bye.”

Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.

“When do you have class?”

“Not until one.”

“You want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.”

“I get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.”

“Joe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?” You asked as your face heated up.

“Someone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?” He asked as he winked at you.

This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.

[flowerywoso]

the babysitter || irene paredes x reader

Summary: You've had a thing for Irene ever since you started babysitting for her. When she comes home after a night out with the team, you realize that your feelings might not be as one-sided as you thought they were. Pairing: Irene Paredes x Reader Words: 3,992 Warnings: 🔞, smut with plot Notes: I haven't written anything in quite awhile (I honestly wasn't planning on writing ever again but here we are), so this might be a little rough! Please don't hesitate to let me know (politely, please!) if you notice any horrible grammatical errors or notes to myself that I somehow forgot to take out. Do not post my works on Ao3. And I am horrible at titles.

You peek your head into the room once more, carefully easing the door open and, just as quickly, shut, once you determine that the toddler is definitely still asleep. It’s a habit you adopted after your friends began to have their own children, and one you’ve maintained for the kids you babysit. Tiptoeing back down the hallway, making sure to keep your footfalls as quiet as you can, you plop back down on the sofa, settling into the corner and taking a sip of your sparkling water, grabbing your novel and flipping it back open as you wait for the boy’s mother to return home.

It’s not that much later, only long enough for you to finish a single chapter of your book, before you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, announcing Irene’s return from the Barcelona squad’s night out. You don’t get up from the couch, merely setting your novel aside and uncrossing your legs, letting one dangle off the cushions.

She enters the room quietly, the low heels she’d left the apartment in abandoned on the mat by the front door so they don’t click on the wood floors, and when you look up you can see the flush on her face. You're not sure if it's the result of the chilly evening air or of her night out, but either way it's enough to make you swallow around a lump in your throat. The top and pants she'd left the house in are just as enticing now as they were several hours ago, and you wonder as she walks further into the apartment how you manage to stay sane around her.

“Hola,” she says quietly, setting her purse down in the center of the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the sofa, sighing in relief as she relaxes into the cushions after a long night out. Your heart, as it so often does in the presence of the older woman, skips a beat as she comes nearer to you.

“How was everything?”

“All good,” you reply, beginning to recount your evening with Mateo. As always, the toddler had been easy, listening to you as well as one could expect a two-year-old to, and had fallen asleep on the sofa halfway through an episode of Bluey, only stirring briefly when you carried him to bed.

“He ate most of his dinner,” you relay with a smile, shaking your head at the memory of how the toddler had wrinkled his nose at the "yucky green" you'd provided for him, far more enthusiastic about the special treat that was the chicken nuggets unearthed from the freezer. “We had a bit of a struggle with the veggies, but other than that he was a perfect angel, like always.”

Your words bring a smile to the older woman’s face, and you can’t help but stop in your tracks for a moment, transfixed by the way her lips perk upwards, faint lines around her eyes becoming visible. You’ve seen her take an extra minute in the bathroom more than once after you arrive in the evenings, trying to conceal the bags beneath her eyes or the smile lines beginning to form at the corners, but you think that each and every part of her face is a work of art. 

You had no idea, when you first started babysitting for her, just how quickly your feelings for the older woman would grow. In the stolen moments at the beginning and end of the nights, before one of you walks out the door, you've learned more and more about Irene Paredes the person, not just the footballer, and something about her kept drawing you further and further in. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but you knew that you wanted her.

“Did you have a good night?”

Irene shrugs, shaking her head with a fond smile as she tells you about the Barcelona squad’s night out. She had mostly stayed on the sidelines alongside the other older players, keeping an eye on the girls closer to your own age as they enjoyed themselves, but Pina and Cata had managed to coax her and Alexia into having a drink and dance before she had excused herself.

The thought of Irene on the dance floor makes your heart pound, imagination beginning to run wild.

You’ve never been to Manuela’s, but from the way you’ve heard Irene describe it, there's absolutely no shortage of beautiful women. You know from the bits of information she’s given you that the Barcelona girls normally stick with one another, even while they’re out, but you’ve never been able to help yourself from wondering if any of the beautiful girls who frequent the club have tempted her enough that she’s taken one of them to her bed.

It's that thought, the unpleasant idea of her tangled between the sheets with a nameless, faceless girl from the club that makes your chest hurt. Before you fully notice what you're doing, you open your mouth and begin to speak, some jumbled mixture of thoughts spilling from between your traitorous lips.

"I mean if... If you ever wanted to stay out later... If someone..."

You trail off, clamping your lips shut as you realize just how inappropriate what you're implying is. You cringe, cursing yourself as you watch for her reaction, wait for her to get up off the couch and hand you your bags, let you know that now might be a good time for you to go home.

But she doesn't. Instead, all the older woman does is fix you with a questioning gaze, seemingly losing herself in thought for a moment.

She’s seated closer to you than she normally would be, than she ever has been before, and for a moment you wonder if she can hear your heart as it pounds in your chest, speeding up as she enters your space. You aren’t sure if it’s your imagination, the way her eyes seem to have fixed on you, tracing the details of your flushing face, eyes following your bottom lip as you nervously run your teeth over it.

“No,” she says at last. “None of the girls there have ever been who I wanted.”

Something about the word there catches your attention as it leaves her mouth, and you're certain that you must be losing your mind. Because there's no way, no way in the world that she wants you the way you want her.

The older woman reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve stopped breathing. Her hand pauses by your left cheek, which you're absolutely certain is flushing redder than the cap on her cherry flavored chapstick.

And suddenly, before you can even fully process the fact that her soft but strong hands are cupping your scarlet cheeks, the older woman is leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours.

You must have imagined this moment a thousand times, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it would actually come true. The older woman’s mouth is soft but insistent against your own, exploring your lips with hers, and every coherent thought you’ve ever had is a distant memory as you move with her, kissing her back.

Kissing Irene is even better than you imagined it would be - and you could fill a planner with the amount of times you’ve imagined this exact scenario. Her mouth is gentle, but there’s an edge to her kiss that contains a promise, the knowledge that she’s capable of being anything but.

When your lips finally part, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, you let out a little gasp, pupils blown wide as Irene stares into your eyes, both of you trying to process what has just happened. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, Irene seems just as shocked as you are. But, behind her wide eyes is the same feeling you know she can easily spot in your own.

Desire.

“I… Fuck.”

You’re the one who leans forward this time, lips pressing against the older woman’s, the faint flavor of alcohol on her lips mixed with a hint of cherry from the chapstick you’ve seen her spread across her mouth more than once. The taste of her lips is intoxicating, and you can feel it going straight between your legs.

This kiss is deeper than the first, your arms wrapping around her strong shoulders to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against your own. You part momentarily, gasping for air and only managing a brief breath before she’s kissing you again, every movement raising the stakes. You whine as her lips meet yours once more, hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The older woman uses her own lips to pry yours open, her claiming tongue slipping into your mouth and beginning to explore further.

You let her take control of the kiss without protest, the arousal between your thighs intensifying exponentially with every second her body spends this close to your own. 

“Fuck,” she gasps, breaking away from your lips only long enough to grunt in your ear. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

All you can do is nod, shaking your head up and down in agreement, because you don’t think you’ve ever wanted another person this badly in your entire life. 

“Irene,” you whine, pressing impossibly closer to her. “Please.” 

“Can I touch you?”

You’re nodding again before the question has even fully left her lips, and the older woman’s pupils go dark with how eager she is for you. She kisses you again, her football player’s strength showing as she pushes you backward onto the sofa, hands working their way up under your shirt. She doesn’t bother with the clasp of your bra, instead slipping her hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts. Separating her lips from yours with a low groan, Irene immediately begins tracing a path over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a further wave of shivers up and down your spine. You moan quietly, remembering that you two aren’t alone in the apartment, but tilt your head anyway, granting her better access to your throat.

Advantage is rapidly taken, the Barcelona player letting a hint of teeth scrape across the delicate flesh of your throat as she rolls one of your nipples between her fingers, moaning quietly at the way you arch, pressing your chest further into her touch. 

Your nipples aren’t normally this sensitive, but something about the way Irene rolls and tugs at them makes the two buds feel as if they’re direct links to your most sensitive spot. Her touch is magical, and all you want is more.

As if the older woman can read your mind, the hand not busy exploring your chest slides further down, slipping under your black leggings and making you gasp, bringing a hand up to muffle your own sounds as long fingers begin to rub at your pussy over your panties. 

There’s far too much fabric between the two of you, and every thread feels like a cage. You need it off, need the last bits of separation between your heat and her touch gone, now. 

“Off,” Irene commands and, needing the barrier gone just as badly as you do, she doesn’t wait for you to obey before she’s hooking her own fingers in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down over your legs. Your panties are removed in the same motion, both pieces of fabric coming to rest at your ankles. You try to kick them fully off, but only manage to completely free one leg before the older woman is pushing her way between your thighs, eagerly beginning to explore your bare pussy.

Her experience is clear from the first touch of her slender fingers against your naked heat, and you can’t help but press closer, spreading your legs further to give her better access. The older woman draws in a sharp breath as she circles your clit gently with one finger, exploring, watching for your reactions, the others gathering the rapidly accumulating wetness at your entrance. Irene's touch is electric, and the older woman finds herself becoming rapidly obsessed with the way your clit seems to plead for her touch.

With two of her fingers, Irene traces the outline of your pussy, hyper aware of just how wet you are, how your hole is begging silently for her fingers inside as she continues to rub your clit.

You let your eyes fall shut, eagerly anticipating just how good it will feel when the fingers you can sense lingering just shy of your entrance finally slide home, burying themselves inside your welcoming cunt. You’re practically pulsing with it, with how badly you need her inside, need to know just how she’ll fill you, what previously unknown spots inside the tips of her long fingers will be able to brush.

“Where do you want my fingers, bebita?” 

You whine, shifting your hips in an attempt to get even closer to her, to get her to slide her fingers into your throbbing heat. The digits, wet from your own slick, only withdraw further away from your needy hole, and you nearly sob with how badly you need the older woman, need her touch. 

Obvious as it may be, this nonverbal expression of how desperate you are for her to take you isn’t enough to satisfy the older woman, and she rubs your inner thigh soothingly. 

“Use your words, baby,” she coaxes. “Tell me where you need my fingers.”

The idea of using your words seems borderline impossible at the moment, your brain simply too overwhelmed with the reality of just how close her fingers are to slipping inside, but you can tell that you won’t get what you need until you do.

“My pussy,” you manage to whine, trying to stay as quiet as possible while pulsing with the need for her. “Please, Irene, I need your fingers in my cunt.”

Your words, base and simple as they are, are enough to get you what you need, and when Irene finally slides her fingers home, you can’t conceal the moan that tears its way free from your throat. You’re wet enough that the stretch of going from zero to two fingers inside your cunt brings nothing but pleasure, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning aloud when you feel the ridges of her fingers settle against your walls, the older woman pausing for a moment to let you adjust to the feeling of her digits inside.

Irene has to swallow a wrecked noise of her own as she finally slides her fingers inside your soaking pussy, the sensation of your silky walls against her skin sending her brain into overdrive. The sound of your voice, desperation tinging your whispers as you plead for her to move, to fuck you, is absolute music to her ears, and she doesn’t hesitate to comply with the enticing request. 

Her pace is slow at first as she starts to move, the older woman eagerly exploring every curve and contour of your cunt, leaking around her fingers. It’s so warm and inviting, and the older woman has no idea how she’s lasted this long without knowing what feel like inside.

Once she’s sure you’ve fully adjusted to the stretch of her digits inside of you, Irene speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers in search of the most sensitive spots hidden inside your pretty cunt. 

It’s clear when she finds what she’s looking for, because your cunt clenches down around her fingers and you squeeze your pretty eyes shut as pleasure rocks your body. 

“Oh,” she says, voice a whisper that tickles your ear and makes you shudder happily. “Is that where you need me?”

You nod desperately, the entirety of your reality reduced to the sensation of her fingers against the sensitive tissue inside you, stroking it insistently as her thumb comes to brush against your swollen clit. As she fucks you with her fingers, the older woman tests out different motions on your bud with her thumb, searching for the pattern and pace to take what’s left of your breath away. 

You can’t help but let out a cry as she presses a little harder, circling your needy clit at just the right angle. Irene quickly presses her lips to yours again, reminding you that you’re not alone in the apartment.

“Shh,” the older woman says, swallowing your noises with her own tongue, collecting each one. “You’ve still gotta be quiet for me, bebita.”

You nod in understanding, kissing her back desperately, bringing a hand up to tangle in her hair. You can be quiet, no matter how good it feels, you can be quiet, just so long as she doesn’t stop what she’s doing between your legs. Irene chuckles against your lips, redoubling her efforts between your legs. Her talented fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, each time hitting the spot that makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispers, lips right beside your ear. “That’s it, take it for me. Take it, just like that.”

You toss your head back, more than willing to comply. Every cell of your body feels like it’s on fire, and you want nothing more than for the burning to consume you completely. 

Your orgasm arrives without warning, Irene’s thumb on your swollen clit combined with her talented fingers inside your cunt sending you crashing over the edge with a fury you haven’t felt in a long time. You have to bite down on your lip to keep in your sounds as your it overwhelms you, nails digging into Irene’s bare shoulders. You can feel the older woman’s smile as she kisses your neck, fingers still moving gently inside you, working you through your climax, helping you ride it for as long as you can.

You shudder, aftershocks still shaking your body as you begin to come down from your peak. She slides her fingers out and you bite down on your kiss-swollen lip to keep yourself from whining at the loss. It takes another minute before you're able to gather yourself, fully opening your eyes and taking in the sight of the gorgeous older woman above you.

Irene presses another kiss to your lips, this one gentle, and you can feel the smile on her face as you give a final shudder, sitting up and leaning into her.

"How was that, bebita?"

"Fucking perfect," you reply, unable to conceal a grin of your own as you note how flushed her face still is. Knowing that touching you has her seemingly almost as worked up as you are sends a thrill through your body and you reach for the button of her jeans, aiming to return the favor, only for the same pair of hands that had just brought you to such an incredible orgasm to push yours down, Irene’s lips brushing against your forehead.

“Don’t you worry about me, baby,” she says, and you feel your heart sink with sudden disappointment.

“Are you sure?”

Irene wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, clearly oblivious to the way your shoulders sink. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

You blush, wanting to protest that getting to touch her would be just about the furthest thing away from a worry- dream or fantasy come to life would be a more accurate description- but a sudden wave of shyness overcomes you, the whiplash of going from the high of your orgasm to the valley of being denied an opportunity to make Irene feel as good as she’s just made you feel making your throat close up.

“O-Oh,” you say quietly. “Okay. I just…”

You trail off, not sure what to say to that. It feels like, without meaning to or realizing what she’s done, the Barcelona defender has just tossed a bucket of ice water over you.

“I… I guess I should head home then,” you say quietly, trying not to let her hear the hurt in your voice, reaching down and pulling your leggings back up over your calves and thighs until they rest around your middle. Your panties aren’t quite soaked, for the pure fact that they had been around your ankles soon after her lips first met yours, but they’re still wet enough that putting them back on isn’t exactly comfortable. 

And more than that, you don’t want to leave. Your body is still purring with the aftermath of your orgasm, the last thing you want to do right now is leave her apartment and walk the few blocks home to your own. The route between your apartment and Irene’s is one you know well, lit with plenty of streetlamps and well-frequented on a Saturday night, so any anxiety you might feel can be connected purely to leaving her after what’s just happened, without being certain where you stand. 

Irene opens her mouth and you pause with your hand on the knob, waiting, hoping that she’ll say something, offer her bed to share for the night. 

“Let me know when you get home safe,” she says quietly, and you can’t help the way your chest clenches with a strange sort of pain. You hadn’t really expected her to offer for you to stay, not with the amount of eyes that could be watching someone like her at any given moment, but you still can’t help but wish she had.

You nod in response to her question, clutching your bag close to your side as you shut the door behind yourself, beginning the short walk home.

...

“Fuck.”

The second the door shuts behind you, the defender wishes she could throw it open again and call you back in.

She had wanted to, especially after watching you come apart under her touch, seeing how pretty you looked as your orgasm overwhelmed you. The words had been on the tip of her tongue, but you had beaten her to it, reaching for the door handle and exiling yourself before she could even offer, and she hadn’t offered any protests. 

Peeking in the door, ensuring that Mateo is still safe and sound in his bed, the Barcelona player tiptoes quietly down the hall, two doors down, and pushes her own door open and shut behind her.

As she pulls off her top, letting it fall to the floor, quickly followed by her pants and bra, Irene curses herself, pulling back the covers and slipping into the too-big bed on her own. It feels cold compared to the contrast of your warm body against her own, and her chest pangs with the regret of not asking you to stay the night. 

Back in your own apartment, you slide beneath your own covers, mind racing at a million miles an hour.

No matter how your chest might ache at the fact that you’re here, alone in your own bed, the memory of the older woman’s lips on yours, of her talented fingers bringing you to orgasm right there on the sofa, of muffling your moans in her shoulder, still sends a familiar jolt of electricity between your thighs. With a soft whine, you reach for your the bedside drawer where you keep your vibrator, turning it up before pressing it against your still-swollen clit.

Blocks away, Irene is doing the same, quietly gasping out a much-needed orgasm with your name on her lips, the memory of your mouth on hers and your silken flesh beneath her fingertips sending her over the edge.

As the older woman drifts off into an uneasy slumber, the space beside her conspicuously empty, she knows that, now she's had you once, she won't ever be able to get enough.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: short chapter ? (If you guys have any questions head to my inbox ^^, and I all know we wanna see a sex scene where they’re bumping against each others clits, and scissoring, It’ll happen soon trust me)

⟣・S2・WATCH IT ALL BURN︰

YOU WALK INTO a pretty battered up place, a hand on your hip as you walked next to caitlyn. you were still a little injured from yesterday but that’s okay, the green smoke was clouding your goggles that were attached to your face, causing a frustrated sigh to escape you. the rest of the enforcers including you, were searching for jinx after the incident that had happened.

It wasn’t just an incident, it was a pretty big one, cause caitlyn’s mom got caught in the crossfire. least to say it wasn’t surprising that caitlyn was on the verge of losing it, but she was holding her composure the best she could.

Not to mention you getting hurt was one of her biggest regrets, she wish she could’ve protected you more— but things happen.

Vi checks over her shoulder from time to time to make sure you’re alright, she doesn’t want you getting caught in her sister’s bullshit. It was pretty scary being here, if you were truthful.

You never met jinx but you’ve heard so many good and bad things about her. Honestly, none of it seemed to make sense anymore. She just sounded like a broken person overall, someone who just needed help.

Jinx was hiding somewhere near the ceiling, she could see you, caitlyn, and vi. her pink colored eyes landing on you as she raised her gun slightly, she wondered what it would be like if vi were to lose the most precious thing she’s had in her life— due to being in jail for long 7 years.

You and caitlyn really switched vi’s life around, even though right now she didn’t like having to be an enforcer. But if it was to stop her sister? It was the right thing to do, it has to stop at some point.

Jinx hand starts to shake as tears prick her eyes, she leans back and hides behind a wall— not bothering to take the shot.

She’s just hated what her sisters become, so lovestruck on you and out to get her— it wasn’t fair.

You flinch slightly when music suddenly comes on, making you step back quickly.

“It’s okay, (name).” Maddie tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder. “No one’s there.”

Caitlyn’s eye twitched when she saw the way maddie had placed her hand on your shoulder, her lips upturning into a frown as she grew a little annoyed— maddie always used the sweet act with you just to get close.

And it pissed off vi and cait.

YOU HAD TO take a minute to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, collapsing to your knees as you lift up your top underneath your shirt, the gash still there from the time you had gotten injured after the explosion. Vi and caitlyn make their way towards you, their expressions full of worry and concern.

“Are you okay, love?” Caitlyn asks as she kneels to your level, the height difference between you three very visible. Cait being taller than vi and vi being taller than you. that was so cute.

Vi tucks some of your hair behind your ear as she rubs her thumb over your cheek, “we can take you back. you didn’t have to come with us.” she tells you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“No, no,” You reply. “I want to help. I’m tired of lying in bed doing nothing.”

Caitlyn knows it wasn’t the best time to be taking at look at your boobs but they were so round and pretty she just wanted to put her hand over it and squeeze them in her possession. If only her thoughts weren’t so vivid right now, she probably would be dead set on getting revenge on jinx which—of course—she still is.

Vi reaches to grab the curvy part of your waist, her hand easily squeezing there gently. “Okay. but if you feel sick let us know.”

“I’m okay, guys, seriously.” You tell them, “I can handle myself.”

“If you’re sure.” Caitlyn replies, trying to keep her dirty thoughts away.

If they were out of sight, they’d be out of mind. right?

Wrong!

Vi couldn’t help but take a look at your chest again, oh this felt so wrong and disrespectful but it felt so good at the same time. when she first met you, she already knew she would take a liking to you.

The thought of being between your legs right now and wanting to hear you whimper was not what she had in mind but she wanted it to happen, she craved it to happen.

Standing up you dust yourself off, “okay-- let’s go get the others. I think I know a route.”

“After you sweets.” Vi replies softly, dusting herself off.

Caitlyn stood up as well, vi taking a long look at your ass before quickly adverting her gaze.

They do not know how long they’re gonna last.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face (Pt.4) | Home

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: after eight months, you and Tara are closer than ever. Her playful texts pull you away from a project, and you spend the night cuddling, reassuring her you're not going anywhere.

word count: 981

a/n: hi guys this is literally so short bc I didn't want to ruin it + I'm already working on another part for who hurt you. this can read as a oneshot by itself hence the extra title; anyways I hope u guys like it, any feedback is appreciated and I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to do this collage thing below xoxo

It’s been 8 months since you and Tara went on your first date and started dating; since then, you’ve shared countless memories, learned more about each other than you ever expected, and your bond only has deepened, making you both excited to see what the future holds together. There’s been a mix of growth, fun and intimate moments; and although there’s a few challenges, there’s always playfulness and banter in the relationship. 

Tonight, you’re focused on finishing your project, eager to submit it at least a day before the deadline so you won’t have to rush and send in poor quality work. But then, a ping on your phone distracts you.

Tara <3

can you come over? i miss you and I’m bored

Sent at 11.45pm

You

sorry babe, I can’t. i have a project due in a few days

Sent at 11.47pm

Tara <3

guess i’ll just sit in bed..alone,cold

all by myself

w nobody to cuddle with. allll alone

You

oh shut up I’m putting my shoes on

Sent at 11.55pm

This usual banter happens often. Honestly, you didn’t mind how clingy Tara is, you knew what the younger Carpenter has been through. She decided to let you know about her past after a month of dating, with what happened to her and the core four a year ago; and you comforted her with cuddles and kisses with soft whispers for being brave and having to go through all of that.

It’s almost midnight, but the way Tara’s playful messages cut through the tranquil night, it’s hard not to smile. You know her well enough to recognize when she’s pretending to be dramatic—and when she’s genuinely feeling a little lonely or vulnerable.The little banter between the two of you has become a ritual, a comfort. But beneath it all, there’s that deep understanding of each other’s lives, pasts, and fears. You know Tara’s history, and you know she’s been through a lot. You could never understand how anyone would willingly put her in harms way. A single glance from her could make you melt into a puddle, as if the weight of the world disappeared in the softness of her eyes, leaving you both grounded and utterly undone at the same time.

 You know that when you get to her place, all the tension in your body will melt away. As you head out, a small part of you can’t help but reflect on how far you’ve both come in just eight months—how much you’ve both grown together. Every little moment, where you can simply drop everything and be there for each other, makes all the difference.

Tara’s got a special place in your heart, and tonight, it’s all about making her feel seen, heard, and loved. For so long, the idea of "home" felt like a distant concept, something that belonged to a life you couldn’t fully reclaim after your parents passed. You thought you’d never feel settled again, that kind of deep connection, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But with Tara, it’s different. It’s effortless, the way she makes you feel both grounded and free. Her presence fills spaces in your heart you didn’t know were empty.

As you may your way to her place, a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s funny how simply being with her, in her space, cuddling under the blankets, or sharing small moments of laughter, feels more like home than anything else ever has. When you knock on her door, she’s already standing there, as if she already felt your presence from a block away; wrapped in a blanket, her hair falling messily around her face, and that familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re late,” she teases, her voice a soft mixture of playfulness and a hint of relief. Ever since you both got together, Tara’s been more anxious, fearing that Ghostface might pop out and take you from her. She’s expressed her concerns to you, and you’ve made sure to constantly remind her that you aren’t going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Tara— you’re stuck with me, no matter what.” Besides, you don’t mind constantly texting her and sending pictures of whatever you’re up to.

“Lay with me? Please?” You fold almost instantly, allowing her to pull you into her bedroom while making sure to keep quiet, since Sam is asleep. Just as you settle onto her bed beside her, Tara does her little grabby hands and you pull her against you, her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head and smiling into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as she had always associated you with safety. You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand before leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Tara’s eyes fluttered at the gesture, and you can feel your heart soar at how adorable she is.

“I love you, so, so much. Did you know that?” You whispered close to her forehead. The warmth of your whisper sent a gentle shiver down her spine. “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you say it again, and again..” You chuckled softly at her statement.

“I don’t mind it either, because I’ll keep saying it; every day if I have to” You smiled softly, the words lingering between you.

Before you could say more, she pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle—the familiar taste of strawberry from her lip balm making you sigh in content. The kiss was warm, comforting, like coming home. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile tugging at her corner of her lips. “I love you more,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

It was safe to say that you didn’t manage to finish your project anytime soon. But with Tara in your arms, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

--------------------

a/n: i hope this is enough for ya'll bc i literally couldn't figure out a way to continue without it being too draggy and boring. fyi 'who hurt you' pt 2 should be coming out in 2 days hopefully idk AND idk how this taglist thing works so lmk if you'd be interested in it

taglist: @bella423

[band--psycho]

Vander x Reader - 5 Years Later...(Part 2)

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Requests are still open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

Part 2 to my Vander x Reader series - Part 1

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Thank you all for the continued support!💛

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Vander Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of grief, feeling of dega-vu

You knew the Undercity wasn’t the safest of places to go, at least that’s what your father had always told you. 

So why were you down here? 

Because as much as you appreciated your fathers protectiveness, what type of friend would you be if you let one of your closest friends go down there alone? 

A pretty shit one. 

Which is why, despite the risks, you went with Jayce down to the Undercity. 

Besides, seeing as you were training to be an Enforcer and Jayce was just a student at the academy it was basically your job to escort him and make sure that nothing happened to him; that’s at least what you’d tell Greyson if she asked where you’d been…and your parents, if they asked which you hoped they wouldn’t. 

“Remind me where we’re going?” You asked in a slightly hushed tone as the two of you turned a corner walking down a dimly lit alley, before 

“I need to get some supplies for a project I’m working on,” Jayce answered simply; with an optimistic gleam in his eyes. 

“What project?” you inquired, unable to keep your curiosity at bay; it had certainly been a while since you’d seen Jayce this excited about a project.

“It’s best I don’t tell you, until I can get it working,” he replied; his answer only furthering your curiosity, but perhaps it was for the best for you to know as little as possible…especially if the academy wasn’t aware of it, which by the seams of things, they weren’t. The less you knew the better; though it still played on your mind as the two of you continued walking through the Undercity.  

To most people the Undercity was just an underdeveloped land across the river, deep in the canyons,  beneath Piltover, filled with misfits and thugs; but as you walked through the lanes of the Undercity, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it. 

The beauty of how vibrant the lights atop of the shops shone in the darkness; the difference of industrial architecture, making each building its own, if only in a little way.

It was different from Piltover, of course, but beautiful nevertheless. 

Since you'd arrived down here you couldn’t shake this feeling of deja-vu…like you’d been here before. 

It was odd. 

You’d never been down here; not once; so why did it feel so familiar?

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realised Jayce had stopped walking until you walked into the back of him. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, hearing a small chuckle fall from his lips. 

“Lost in your own world again?” he teased, turning around to look at you. 

You simply rolled your eyes at his comment and looked at the building you’d stopped outside; a pawn shop. 

You shot Jayce a confused look; you didn’t understand what this place had that any of the shops in Piltover didn’t; except from some anonymity. 

Down here no one knew him. 

But that only caused the curiosity you had about his project to grow. 

“Stay out here, I won’t be long,” he said before disappearing inside the shop. 

You went to follow him, before you heard a song in the distance, that halted your steps. 

You knew it. 

But you were certain you’d never heard it before…

How did you know a song from the Undercity? 

You turned on your heel, following the sound of the song; you knew it was risky, venturing off into the Undercity alone and you knew Jayce would be worried if he came back outside and noticed you gone, but you couldn’t help it. 

It was like your feet had a mind of their own and before you knew it, you’d come to the source of the music, it was a bar, or at least that’s what you assumed it was seeing as it was called ‘The Last Drop’ and had a logo of a tankard in the middle of the name. 

‘Why does this place seem so familiar?’ you thought to yourself, your eyes narrowing as you stared at the building in front of you. 

You were about to take another step, before you felt someone grab ahold of your wrist; instinctively your training kicked in and your guard went up, ready to fight. 

That was until you saw that it was Jayce who was holding your wrist; he was panting slightly with a worried look in his eyes, “I thought something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, guilt washing over you, “I didn’t mean to worry you,” 

“It’s okay,” he answered softly, tugging on your wrist slightly, leading you away from the bar, “Let’s just get out of here.”

And with that the two of you made your way past the pawn shop Jayce had been in, passing a little boy with white hair leaning against the wall, he had a proud smile on his face that was until he saw you. 

You waved at him politely, confused about why he was staring at you; but the little boy said nothing, he just continued to stare at you, his mouth hanging slightly agape as you vanished out of his view. 

All you could think about as you made your way back to Piltover was how strange today had truly been. 

The deja-vu, the song, the bar, the little boy….none of it was making any sense….

~~~~~~

Vander hated seeing Vi hurt; he also hated that she was a mirror image of how he was when he was younger, so eager to rebel against the topsiders…but it wasn’t that simple. 

That’s what he was trying to get her to understand.

Every action had a consequence. 

He knew that better than anyone. 

He was the one who was too stubborn to call off the uprising, because he wanted to show Piltover that they were worthy of not being left behind on all the grand new ventures Piltover were indulging in; and because of that, he lost so many people that were close to him. 

But no ones ghost was more haunting than yours. 

He just needed Vi to understand that violence wasn’t the way to play this. 

He knew Greyson would probably be paying him a visit soon; the kids, unintentionally, broke an agreement that he’d made with the current sheriff of Piltover, to keep a peace between topside and the Lanes. 

A peace that was now hanging by a thread. 

Once he was sure Vi’s injuries were clean, he rose from the table and began putting away the supplies he’d used to clean her cuts. 

“Vander…there’s something else,” Vi began, halting Vanders movements and making his attention focus back on her. 

“Go on,” he  said calmly, though in his mind he was dreading the next words that were going to come out of her mouth; she’d just been part of blowing up a building in Piltover, what more could there be.

“Ekko said….he said he saw Y/n,” 

Her words short-circuited his mind at the mention of your name.

“What?” he asked; thinking that maybe, somehow, he’d misheard what Vi had said. 

“He said he saw Y/n walking with that topside guy that came into the shop,” she repeated, noticing how Vanders eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to process her words. 

“That was partly why I went up there….to see if she was there,” she continued, rising from her seat, walking over to Vander and placing her hand on his arm. 

She knew how much Vander loved you. 

She knew how much losing you broke him. 

She knew how much losing you hurt both her and Powder; who’d grown so close to you in the few years prior to the uprising. 

That’s why she wanted to be sure that Ekko wasn’t wrong; she’d barely believed him herself when he first told her, but before the explosion happened, she was sure she heard your voice; but without actually seeing you, she couldn't be sure if it was you or if it was just the wishful thinking in her mind.

“She’s dead, Vi,” Vander stated; his voice remaining balanced; although the look in his eyes showed a growing sadness. 

“You’ve never believed that,” 

It wasn’t a lie; he didn’t believe it. 

He might’ve said that you were dead; but Vi knew that deep in his heart, he had never believed it.

He never found your body; and without your body, he could still cling on to the hope that you were alive. 

Vi never really understood why he couldn’t believe your death was real; but now she knew that he was right all along. 

“Ekko got it wrong, it can’t have been her.”

“Vander, he knows what she looks like….” Vi tried to counter, they all knew what you looked like from the photos Vander kept of the two of you; but Vander just went back to putting away the medical supplies before heading to the stairs. 

“He got it wrong,” he answered back, slightly harsher than he’d intended to,before leaving the basement entirely and heading to his own room. 

He all but collapsed onto the side of your bed; his eyes landing on the photo of you he kept on his bedside table. 

You were dead.

That’s what he kept telling himself. 

That’s what he'd had to tell himself for the last five years to keep his own sanity. 

But there was a little voice in the back of his head, a voice that reignited his failing hope…what if you weren’t…what if what Ekko said was true…?

Vander didn’t know what to believe….the memories from that day flooding back into his mind as the pain he’d felt re-entered his heart, tears fell from the Hound Of The Undergrounds eyes, as he tried to work out what to believe. 

What if all these years you’d been alive? 

Why were you in Piltover? 

Why hadn’t you come back to him? 

Did you blame him for what happened on the bridge….did you blame him for the deaths so many people had succumbed to…? 

Is that why you never came home?

So many thoughts were running through his mind; but even if his mind hadn’t settled on a decision, his heart had; he needed to find out the truth. 

And he would; just as soon as he’d smoothed everything out with Greyson about today's incident.

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @the-lone-librarian @conretewings @barbersjoy @eternallyvenus @trixiex2 @newlosadventures @eternalgoddessofart @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @nagislemontea @dazecrea

I apologise in advance to those who have asked to be on the taglist and aren’t - I’m not ignoring you, I just can’t tag you in it for some reason :(

[trender-official]

Whiskey Burns My Throat | Part Two

Sevika x Fem!Doctor!Reader | 3.5k

Part One

She looked up and ran her teeth over her lip. She knew he was going to lecture her. The leather coach squeaked as she sat up. “Yeah. A bit.” Her face contorted for a moment, knowing she shouldn’t be disrespectful, but still angry. She could handle hard, fast pains. But dull aches made her irritable.

Silco frowned sharply. “Don’t lie to me. The shimmer isn't helping, is it?” His voice sounded soft, despite the underlying anger. He cared for her, after all, they had been working alongside each other for years now.

She sighed. She didn't know why she tried to deceive him, in a way, when it’s his whole job to deceive other people. She did know why. She didn’t want him to think she’s weak. She didn’t want to think about that. “No. Hasn’t been for awhile.”

“That’s why you’ve been so eager to fight, then. Come.” He beckoned her over. Willingly, she stood. He may irritate her, but she respected him. She’d do almost anything for him. He ran his hands over her metal hand, then looked up at her. “I graced you with the height of Zaun’s technology. Do not disgrace it by refusing its progression.” He stood. “If it is failing you, fix it. Go see The Doctor.” He let go of her and sat back down. “Don’t make me say so twice.”

Sevika closed her eyes and took a breath. He was right. She was being irrational. Fuck, she was being irrational. She turned away, running her human hand across the mahogany desk. She remembers when he got this. He almost didn’t- Thought it may had been a waste of money. But she told him, “You’d impress investors. And scare them.” He listened. He respected her, as much as she did him. She needed to listen.

She let out one last sigh, maybe to make it clear she wasn’t happy with the decision, before taking her leave and making her way to The Doctor’s house. She was supposed to head there soon anyway to escort her to the tent.

Soon enough, she arrived. It was a small place, maybe 800 sqft, made of various scrap metals and sheets. She leaned against it, her eyes closed as she crossed her arms around her chest, enjoying the moment of silence. She usually waited youtside for The Doctor to come out, not caring enough to knock. It felt… too domestic.

She heard some clanging inside, then the “oh so put together”, well, not so much recently, Doctor came out. Her hair wasn’t in her proper place, usually tied back in a careful ponytail or bun. But it hadn’t been in… A week? Two? Sevika couldn’t remember the last time it was. Sevika didn’t care, to be honest. She didn’t say anything to Sevika, she just looked at her and started off in the direction they usually went. Sevika didn’t care about that, either. In fact, she appreciated it. She’s been much less chatty recently.

It took about four minutes to get to the tent, they’d placed it here on purpose to keep her out of the streets as much as possible. Although, the Doctor had been ignoring that recently and going out at night. At least she went to the last drop, staying within Silco’s reach. Sevika had seen her there a few times, only staying long enough to get a bottle of alcohol and leaving after.

When they reached the tent, Sevika finally spoke up. “I’m gonna be the first patient today.” She said, as she sat down on the cot that functioned as an examination table, which was far too small for her and practically screamed as she sat down.

The Doctor paused, a look of shock coming across her face. “Are you sick?” She asked, putting her bag down and slipping on some gloves. She stepped closer, tentatively, eyeing her face to see if there were any signs of sickness.

“No.” She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Just… The arm. It’s hurting my shoulder.” She said, once again holding the weight of the metal arm with her other hand. “Shimmer isn’t helping anymore. Don’t wanna take too much either. You know why.”

The Doctor nodded. “Can you remove the arm for me?” She asked, getting close enough to make Sevika want to scoot back. Sevika didn’t say anything, but unlatched the arm and laid it down beside her. She unholstered her gun as well. Just in case she didn’t have the arm to defend them with.

The Doctor leaned forwards, analyzing the area, running her hands along it with a furrowed brow. She reached for the arm itself, and almost immediately she could tell the problem. “It’s too heavy,” she said matter of factly. “It’s putting too much strain on your deltoid- your shoulder” she reached back to gently press on the area, nodding. Then she paused, lost in thought, trying to figure out a way to solve the problem.

Sevika frowned heavily as she fiddled with her. She felt like an animal being tested on. She was used to that- With shimmer and all. But she didn’t like it. When The Doctor paused, she raised an eyebrow. The Doctor’s hand didn’t move, to which Sevika glanced at it. She decided to remove it with a light swipe.

The Doctor didn’t react, her brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her first idea was letting Silco deal with it. That would be the easiest and less stressful thing to do for herself. But she didn’t like the idea of not knowing what their plan was for Sevikas pain. The thought frustrated her.

Then it hit her. Jayce. Jayce was a friend she made while she was just starting her schooling. They had become quick friends, despite their separate fields. Jayce was an easy person. He was easy to get along with. She heard news of him working with Heimerdinger now, so maybe he could help them!

“Wait-“ she perked up, slamming her fist down onto her open palm. “I have a friend who lives for this stuff. He’s…”

“A topsider.” Sevika finished for her. The Doctor paused, her face falling as the excitement drained a little from her voice. “Yes.. but he’s talented. Extremely so. Let him take a look at it- it’ll be a few hours max.” She didn’t know why she was trying so hard to get her to agree. Maybe to earn brownie points? But why did she care so much about what she thought?

Sevika thought for a second, her jaw twisting in irritation. Having to go all the way up to Piltover- AND deal with pilties who no doubt were going to gloat in front of her with their arrogance… she hated it. Hated this whole situation, hated feeling weak. In need. And most importantly, hated her. But… she couldn’t deny it any longer. She had people to protect here. Silco to protect. And his kid, that Jinx girl, which she hated to admit she held a smidge of affection for. So with a begrudging sigh, she agreed.

They set off, making their way to Piltover, wanting to do so earlier than later. Sevika had tied the tent up before they left, putting a sign that said, “Closed. Come back tomorrow.”

The Doctor stayed unusually quiet the whole ride. She busied herself thinking about what she was to say to Jayce after not seeing each other for so long. She didn’t know how to say she’d left Piltover and became a citizen of Zaun without explaining why, and he couldn’t know why. Silco made that clear.

As time went on, she grew more anxious, her hands squeezing and messing with the material of her pants as she thought of ways to dodge or distract Jayce from asking any questions relating to her disappearance.

But a part of her rationalized her thoughts. He probably didn’t even notice she was gone. It wasn’t like they were best friends; they just kept each other company during their boring schooling days. Once Jayce started working under Heimerdinger, he had gotten busier, and they didn’t talk much, not unless she came to visit him in his lab. And even then they talked about basic things before Jayce got distracted and pulled back into his work. Hextech, she remembered.

She didn’t even notice they had arrived until a large airship zipped through the Hexgate. It made her realize she hadn’t been here since before the Hexgates were created. She’d heard it was a marvel- But to see it here? Right in front of her? It was… Awe inspiring. This truly is The City of Progress. It made her rethink some things.

Sevike snickered behind her. “Amazed?” She asked, her voice holding that patronizing tone to it. The Doctor blushed and looked away, even though she knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Sevika had been here many times since the Hexgates were created, running shimmer back and forth for Silco, so the sight was just… Normal to her now. It’s strange, how that happens.

As they made their way to the academy, The Doctor couldn’t help the twist of anxiety brewing in her gut. Sevika was unpredictable, she didn’t know what she’d do or say once they got there, and she really didn’t want to break up a fight, or have any physical altercations between her and the guards. Or even worse; Jayce himself. Jayce was kind, and understanding. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hot-head. Things set him off pretty easily, which also worried her.

And the thing that bothered her the most was the idea of Sevika not accepting Jayce’s help; that she’d be in pain until Silco could find someone in Zaun to fix up her arm. It confused her, and irritated her all the same. Why should she care if Sevika was in pain? She was a grown woman after all. Not a very nice one either.

Finally, they arrived inside. Some people gave them a wary and uneasy look, while others downright glared at them, as if to say “You don’t belong here. Go back to the Undercity”. The Doctor frowned. She had never gotten those looks before. She, unconsciously, moved closer to Sevikas side. It was true that she felt safe with the bigger woman. Who wouldn’t? After all, Sevika didn’t look bothered.

The Doctor asked around, inquiring about Jayce’s whereabouts. She was met with a lot of suspicion, but she eased their concerns with smooth talking, and stories of their college days, proving she had a legitimate tie to the man. Once they had their directions they were off, and in time they found his workshop.

The Doctor raised her fist to knock, when the door opened. A man she didn’t recognize stood there with a tilted head. “Hello?” He said with a strange accent.

“Um- Hello!” The Doctor started, “I’m here for Jayce…” she shifted nervously on her feet.

“I’m sorry, he’s not taking meetings today, would you like to leave your names?” He said monotonously. He seemed to do this often. And he didn’t seem bothered by Sevikas stark presence behind her.

“Oh- but-“

Suddenly the smaller man was nudged, making an irritated sound leave his throat as jayce appeared above him.

“What are you doing here?!” Jayce asked excitedly, pushing past the shorter male, his arms instinctively reaching to hug The Doctor. His hands snaked onto her lower back, squeezing; A familiar, practiced motion.

“Jeez!” The Doctor laughed, her arms returning the hug quickly, her head being shoved into his chest. He was just about the same height as Sevika.

“Careful or you’re gonna kill me before I even tell you why!” The Doctor teased as Jayce pulled back, his eyes bright, excited. He looked good, face bright, but still equipped with the eyebags that came with being a scientist.

“Right, right.” Jayce pulled back, his hands still on the small of her back. “Well come in-! I have much to show you!” he took her hand, pulling her inside the workshop.

The unnamed man stood behind them, a hip popped out to the side with a grumpy looking face. The Doctor couldn’t tell if he was simply leaning on his cane or being sassy…

“Before we start I think introductions are needed.” The Doctor looked happy, a genuine smile on her face as she gestured to the man and Sevika behind them. “I know how you get when you get into things, Jayce.” There it was again, that familiarity.

Sevika wanted to glare at him. She wanted to scare him away- Make him stop asking questions. But she knew how to play this. She wasn’t a stupid woman. She faked a smile, strained and thin, still intimidating despite it, and stayed silent.

In return, Jayce just rolled his eyes playfully at The Doctor, before nodding to Sevika, returning the same smile, it being a little bigger than hers. He turned quickly, and gestured to the man leaning on his cane. “This is Viktor. He’s been my partner while working under Heimerdinger.”

The Doctor nodded in acknowledgment. “Hello, Viktor. I’m a friend of Jayce’s from the academy.” she stuck her hand out to shake.

“Oh!” Viktor’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh. Hello.” He said, taking her hand gently. His hands were bony, his fingers long. He didn’t know how to shake a hand well, he simply laid his hand in hers and let her guide it. He sounded uncomfortable, but not negatively. Simply, in a new situation. The Doctor guessed he likely didn’t get much positive attention from topsiders, based on his reaction, so she put in extra effort to lightly cup his hand and smile as she shook it. He must be from the lower city. Or perhaps it’s because of his disability? She didn’t know, but her heart ached just a little for him.

After she pulled her hand away she turned towards Sevika. “This is Sevika. A…” she paused, not really sure what to call her. She decided on the simpler method. “A friend of mine. We met at a bar a few months ago.” She introduced.

Jayce took no time in raising an eyebrow, his mouth turned into a teasing smile. “Right.. a friend” He said, his voice dipping low. He knew The Doctors type, they did go to the academy together after all. Nights of parties and bar hopping, they had learned each-others type in people. And Sevika? She was definitely her type. Not to mention, The Doctor never brought people to meet Jayce. It was all too suspicious.

Sevika recoiled, looking The Doctor up and down. “Her?” She snorted. “No. Just friends.” Even that felt strange in her mouth. Referring to this woman as anything but a nuisance was wrong. Although, Sevika wouldn’t be surprised if The Doctor was into her. Honestly, a night or two with her wouldn’t be terrible. Sevika wasn’t new to hate sex- But anything else? Pure insanity.

The Doctor herself sputtered, caught off guard. Sevika and her? The thought made her cheeks warm, her heartbeat increasing.

Jayce’s other eyebrow shot up, with his hands as he backed away. “Sure, sure… Sure.” He said with a shrug. “I won’t push.” He said, with a wink. He turned away, his neck straining to look at them behind him. “Come on! I’ll show you the lab. You can tell me why you’re here.”

They made their way inside, Jayce showing off his recent discoveries, though not going into too much detail. He would stop and move on whenever Viktor gave him that warning look- the look of they don’t need to know this.

Finally they settled, taking seats at one of the bigger desks near the back. “So, not that I mind you visiting, but why are you here?” Jayce asked, absentmindedly helping Viktor into the chair next to him, like he’d done it a million times. He didn’t even take his eyes off of hers as he did it.

That had The Doctor raising an eyebrow, but she stored it away for later. She wasn’t one to ask those types of questions in front of others.

“Sevika’s arm has been giving her some trouble. It’s too heavy for her muscles to handle for such a long period of time. Do you think you could take a look and see if there’s anything you can do to remove some of the strain?” She asked them, her voice now poised and Doctor-like.

Jayce blinked, “… that’s it?” He asked, almost shocked. “I thought it’d be something way more complicated. Sure, put it here.” He patted the spot in front of him.

“Show off…” She muttered, and looked back to Sevika expectantly. Sevika wanted to sigh heavily but she restrained herself. She waddled over to the area, gripping her arm and lifting the weight off.

“Just… be careful.” She said grumpily before allowing Jayce to touch her. “It’s delicate.”

“I will be.” Jayce smiled, gentle but large fingers gracing her skin. He looked back to her for approval, receiving it hesitantly, before lifting her arm. He ran his hands over the seam, and her harness. “There seems to be some pressure points here, probably causing some pinching.” He ran his hand over her arm, examining the mechanisms. “How is this powered? There’s no way you could charge something like this in the undercity with basic power lines.”

The Doctor stiffened, honestly unsure if they should tell Jayce. On one hand, being honest would make sure they got everything fixed. On the other hand… she wasn’t sure how he’d react to Sevika using shimmer. It didn’t exactly have the best reputation…

But before she could speak Sevika did for her. “What do you think?” She asked gruffly. She looked down at the floor, her gaze slowly trekking up his body.

His eyes widened, backing away. He looked to The Doctor as if she’d have a different answer. She simply stumbled over her words, then looked down and bit her lip. “I…” He said. “Shimmer? You have me working on shimmer tech?” He said with a laugh of disbelief. “You can’t- You’re against shimmer! You know what it does!” He stood up, his chair flying out from under him, screeching as it slid back.

Viktor tried to quickly stand, but fumbled, falling back into the seat. “Jayce-“ He started.

“No. Viktor, I can’t work on something running on that.” He pointed a finger at him, then at Sevika. “And I want her out of my lab.” He frowned, looked her up and down, then turned and made his exit.

“That went as well as I thought it would.” Sevika mumbled with a scoff. The Doctor sighed, seeming used to it.

“Can’t tell you how many doors we had to replace in his dorm room.” She grumbled.

Then she turned her focus to Viktor. “I’m sorry we caused a stir. I hope he’s not like that often with you. Let me know if I need to have a discussion with him about minding his temper.” she seemed.. pissed, her eyes narrowing. It was, admittedly, hot, Sevika thought. But that thought was quickly squashed.

Viktor huffed a laugh. “You know him. He’s… Passionate.” He stood slowly, balancing on his crutch. “But… You should know, I am as talented as Jayce.” He placed a hand on The Doctor’s shoulder. “Meet me here. Tonight. We will talk.” He smiled at her and continued on, hobbling out the door. Presumably to follow Jayce.

The doctor grinned to herself. It seems as if Jayce found someone that could keep up with him and then some. Good. He needed someone like that. She watched him leave, her hip cocked a bit.

She turned to Sevika, “Well, that solves that.” She said, offering a pleasant smile to her, hoping to receive back… well, praise, if she was being honest with herself. It’s what she thrived off of, what kept her working so hard, being noticed and appreciated by others. Well, that and improving people’s lives of course.

“Damn. I didn’t expect the little guy to go against him.” She said with a laugh. “Good for him.” She stood up, giving The Doctor a pat on the head. “Good job not entirely fucking up.” She said with a slight smirk. That was the best she was gonna give.

The walk back to the undercity was distinctly not in silence, unlike before. The Doctor seemed rejuvenated, and Sevika couldn’t tell if it was because she got to see Jayce, or if it was due to herself. Part of her wished for the later, which irritated her.

When they parted ways, Sevika made her way to the brothel again. Distinctly looking for a woman, Clara, who may look distinctly similar to The Doctor.

[gyorouis]

𐙚 CHARMED & TWISTED - KTH.

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

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (whatever)

pairing: senior!taehyun x afab!reader

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

wordcount: 10.6k

now playing: lola amour — fallen ୨ৎ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“right… thanks,” you reply, your smile faltering.

as you walk away, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder. he’s already back to laughing with another group, his smile warm and easy. it stings, but you’re determined to shake it off. maybe he’s just naturally distant with new people, you reason.

then the representative announces the semester project groups, and fate decides to toy with you. you’re assigned to taehyun’s group. the president claps him on the back. “taehyun, help this group come up with a concept for their project. guide them.”

taehyun nods, flashing the president a smile. but when his eyes meet yours, that warmth disappears, replaced by an unreadable stare.

the first group meeting only solidifies your frustration. while he’s relaxed and encouraging with the others, tossing out ideas and giving thoughtful feedback, he’s standoffish with you, offering only clipped responses. when you suggest a potential theme, he doesn’t even look up, simply muttering, “we’ll see.”

by the end of the meeting, your patience snaps. you linger as he packs up his camera, determined to get some answers.

“did i do something to offend you?” you ask, forcing your voice to stay calm.

he raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“it’s just… you seem friendly with everyone else, but with me…” you pause, searching for the right words. “it’s like you don’t even want me in the group.”

he sighs, adjusting his camera strap. “it’s nothing personal.”

“then what is it?” you press, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.

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

you open your mouth to retort, but he walks away, leaving you fuming.

over the next few weeks, the tension only worsens. taehyun is attentive and encouraging with the rest of the group, but with you, he’s almost dismissive, barely acknowledging your presence. it’s maddening.

during a group meeting, he discusses lighting techniques with another member, patiently explaining the finer details. when you ask a question about camera settings, he glances at you, almost bored. “you can google it,” he says.

“oh, thanks for the insightful advice,” you mutter sarcastically, unable to hide your irritation.

he raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “problem?”

“only that you seem to think i’m not worth your time,” you snap.

he leans back, crossing his arms. “maybe i just don’t have time for people who expect to be spoon-fed.”

you grit your teeth, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting under your skin. “noted. i’ll be sure to stay out of your way.”

“good,” he says smoothly, smirking. “it’ll make things easier for both of us.”

despite his attitude, you can’t help but notice the way he lingers in your thoughts. as much as he irritates you, you find yourself watching him during club activities, taking note of how he interacts with others, how he positions himself for the perfect shot. there’s something about the way he sees the world through his camera that’s mesmerizing.

one day, while reviewing some photos in the club room, you catch him watching you. he quickly averts his gaze, but you’ve already seen the flicker of something in his expression—something that isn’t annoyance.

before you can question it, he speaks up, voice back to its usual edge. “if you’re done staring, maybe you could focus on the composition instead of just the exposure.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you shoot back, holding up the camera. “maybe i’ll just copy the ‘legendary’ taehyun.”

“wouldn’t be the worst idea,” he says, smirking. “though i doubt you could keep up.”

a flush rises to your cheeks. “you’re seriously unbearable.”

“and yet,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his gaze challenging, “you’re still here.”

his proximity sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to let him see you waver. “yeah, because i care about the project, not because i enjoy your company.”

“funny,” he says, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “because you look like you’re enjoying this.”

your heart races as he steps back, leaving you flustered and, frustratingly, intrigued. whatever strange animosity lies between you two, it’s only getting stronger, and despite yourself, you’re drawn to it—drawn to him in a way you can’t quite explain, even if it annoys you to no end.

as weeks pass, the strange tension between you and taehyun only seems to grow. every club meeting follows the same pattern: he’s friendly and helpful with everyone else, offering tips on lighting, sharing his best shots, laughing along with jokes. he even shows others his photos, pointing out the details he likes, encouraging them to try new techniques. but with you, there’s still that wall, like you’re the last person he wants around.

it’s infuriating.

one afternoon, after a particularly chilly exchange with taehyun, you find yourself in the campus café with hana. she’s sipping on an iced latte, watching you with her usual keen interest as you vent.

“i just don’t get it,” you say, stirring your coffee a little too aggressively. “he’s so... normal with everyone else, but with me, it’s like i don’t even exist half the time.”

hana raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “maybe he’s got a little crush on you.”

you let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “taehyun? having a crush on me? please. he practically runs in the other direction every time i’m around.”

“think about it,” hana insists, leaning in. “he’s cool and collected with everyone else, right? but with you, he’s all weird and distant. it could totally be his way of hiding how he feels.”

you shake your head, though her words stir something in you. “but why would he act like that? if he liked me, wouldn’t he just... i don’t know, be nice?”

“you’d be surprised,” hana says, giving you a knowing look. “some people have no idea how to act around someone they like. maybe he’s trying to keep you at arm’s length because he doesn’t know what else to do.”

you scoff, though a small flicker of curiosity sparks in your mind. “you think he’s avoiding me because he likes me?”

hana shrugs. “could be. or he’s just a jerk. but there’s only one way to find out.” she winks. “test him.”

“test him?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “how?”

“you know, catch him off guard,” she suggests. “say something unexpected. see if he reacts. you’ll know if he’s just being weird with you or if there’s something else going on.”

the idea lingers in your mind long after you leave the café, even as you try to push it away. why would taehyun, the effortlessly confident vice president of the photography club, act strange around you for any reason other than irritation? but a tiny part of you wonders if hana is onto something.

the next club meeting, you decide to put hana’s theory to the test. it’s a typical afternoon, everyone gathered in the clubroom, chatting and reviewing each other’s work. taehyun, as usual, is in his element, showing one of the new members how to adjust their aperture for a softer background.

you watch him for a moment, summoning the courage to interrupt.

“taehyun,” you say, stepping forward and forcing yourself to meet his gaze directly.

he glances at you, his expression unreadable. “yeah?”

“i was wondering if you could help me with something,” you say, trying to keep your tone light. “you’re the expert, after all.”

his brow arches, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face. “oh, really?” he asks, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “and here i thought you didn’t need my help.”

you shrug, feeling a spark of satisfaction at his reaction. “guess i’m full of surprises.”

taehyun stares at you for a second longer than necessary, and you could swear there’s a hint of something in his eyes—hesitation, maybe. then he clears his throat and gestures to the camera in your hands. “what is it you need help with?”

“well, i was struggling to get the right lighting for a portrait shot,” you say, holding up the camera. “thought maybe the great taehyun could give me some pointers.”

he narrows his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “flattery won’t get you very far.”

“oh, please,” you say with a roll of your eyes, feeling more confident. “just show me what i’m doing wrong.”

he steps closer, and your pulse quickens despite yourself. he adjusts the settings on your camera, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and you’re painfully aware of the way your heart races at the contact.

“see,” he says, his voice lower, “it’s about getting the right balance between the shadows and highlights. you were just a bit too heavy on the contrast.”

you nod, trying to focus on his words, but it’s difficult with the way he’s standing so close. “got it,” you mumble.

“think you can handle that?” he asks, his tone teasing as he hands the camera back to you.

“oh, please,” you say, mimicking his earlier words. “flattery won’t get you very far.”

he chuckles, the sound soft and unexpectedly warm. “maybe you’re not as hopeless as i thought.”

“wow, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you shoot back, feigning shock.

taehyun rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile. “don’t get used to it.”

after the meeting, hana is waiting outside the clubroom, her eyes lighting up when she sees you. “so? did you do it?”

you sigh, falling into step beside her. “i tried. i don’t know if it really got us anywhere, but he actually... helped me. willingly. and i think he might’ve almost smiled.”

hana grins. “see? he’s totally into you.”

“i still don’t buy it,” you say, though your heart betrays you, thudding a little harder at the thought.

over the next few days, you keep up with your plan, occasionally catching taehyun off guard, asking for his help or making casual conversation. he starts to loosen up, but there’s always that underlying tension, like both of you are playing a game you can’t quite figure out.

one afternoon, while you’re packing up after a club activity, he stops by your side, clearing his throat awkwardly. “hey.”

you glance up, surprised to see him lingering. “yeah?”

“i, uh... noticed some of your photos from last week,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “they were actually pretty good.”

you blink, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. “oh. thanks.”

“i mean,” he continues, looking almost embarrassed, “they’re not perfect, but... you’re getting better.”

you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “high praise coming from you.”

he lets out a soft laugh, glancing away. “don’t let it go to your head.”

the thing taehyun hadn’t anticipated was just how difficult it would be to ignore you. it started innocently enough, with casual glances across the library or quick glances when you weren’t looking. he told himself he was just curious about you, about this person who seemed so different from everyone else he knew.

but that small, nagging curiosity grew into something more. he remembers it vividly—last semester, late at night in the library. he’d been buried under stacks of papers, the weight of finals pressing down on him. then, he looked up and saw you at a table nearby, your face illuminated by the soft glow of your laptop. you looked... serene. completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. he found himself watching you longer than he should have, memorizing the way you unconsciously chewed on the end of your pen, how you’d furrow your brow whenever you didn’t understand something. and then, without warning, you looked up and met his gaze.

caught off guard, taehyun had immediately glanced down at his notes, pretending he hadn’t just been staring. his heart had raced embarrassingly fast, and he mentally scolded himself. it was ridiculous. he barely knew you. so he kept his distance, convinced it would pass.

but it hadn’t. every club meeting, every casual encounter, every time he saw you laugh with friends or discuss a new idea in a way that lit up your entire face, he found himself drawn to you all over again.

and now, with the two of you working closer in the club, avoiding you was becoming... impossible.

one afternoon, after the meeting has wrapped up, taehyun finds himself standing by the door, glancing over at you as you gather your things. he tells himself to walk away, to ignore the urge to talk to you. but instead, he clears his throat.

“hey.”

you glance up, surprised, and he notices the way your eyes soften slightly. “yeah?”

“i, uh...” he falters, feeling his usual confidence abandon him. “i wanted to ask... how did you come up with that concept for the photo series? the one with the shadows and reflections?”

your face lights up, the way it always does when you’re talking about something you care about. “oh! it was kind of spontaneous, actually. i saw this old building downtown with these intricate windows, and the way the sunlight hit them just... i don’t know, it felt like it told a story.”

he nods, captivated not only by your words but by the energy in your expression. “that’s... impressive. i never would’ve thought of it like that.”

you raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “really? i thought the great taehyun had thought of everything.”

he chuckles, a little self-conscious. “guess you’re full of surprises.”

for a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between you two, and he’s painfully aware of how close he’s standing. he wants to say more, to maybe even reach out and brush that stray strand of hair behind your ear, but instead, he clears his throat, stepping back.

“well, i should get going,” he says, his voice a little strained. “see you next meeting?”

you nod, your gaze lingering on him. “yeah... see you.”

taehyun walks away, feeling his heart race, wondering why he can’t just act normal around you. later that evening, as he scrolls through his phone, he stumbles upon a photo you posted of the city at night. the caption reads, “finding stories in the smallest places.”

without thinking, he likes the post, and his finger hovers over the screen, tempted to comment. he types out a message, something casual like, “great shot. didn’t know you were into cityscapes.” but he deletes it just as quickly, feeling stupid for overthinking a simple compliment.

the next day, you and taehyun cross paths on campus. he’s deep in conversation with a couple of his friends, but when he spots you, he instinctively freezes, his words trailing off. his friends, beomgyu and kai, notice immediately.

“yo, taehyun,” beomgyu says with a smirk, nudging him. “you good?”

taehyun clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “yeah, just... thought i saw someone.”

kai follows his gaze, grinning when he spots you. “ah, it’s her.”

“you mean y/n?” beomgyu asks, raising an eyebrow. “why do you get all weird whenever she’s around?”

“i don’t get weird,” taehyun protests, but the heat rising in his cheeks betrays him. “just... forget it.”

beomgyu and kai exchange glances, both clearly amused. “dude, just go talk to her,” kai says, giving taehyun a shove in your direction. “it’s not that hard.”

taehyun grumbles under his breath but reluctantly approaches you, ignoring the way his friends snicker behind him. when he reaches you, he tries to play it casual, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“hey,” he says, his voice sounding more strained than he intended. “what’s up?”

you blink, clearly not expecting him to approach. “uh, just heading to my next class. you?”

“same,” he lies, hoping you don’t notice his friends watching from a distance.

you nod, a hint of a smile on your lips. “well... see you around?”

“yeah,” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself for not saying something more interesting. as he watches you walk away, he glances over his shoulder at beomgyu and kai, who are practically in tears from laughing.

“wow,” beomgyu says between laughs, “smooth, man. real smooth.”

taehyun scowls. “shut up.”

over the next few days, his friends’ teasing becomes a regular occurrence, and it only fuels his internal struggle. he tries to keep his distance from you, to ignore the way his heart beats faster whenever you’re near, but it’s like fighting a losing battle.

one afternoon, after a particularly stressful class, he heads to the library to unwind. he’s flipping through a book on photography techniques when he hears a familiar voice nearby. looking up, he sees you sitting at a table, intently reading.

before he can talk himself out of it, he walks over. “mind if i sit?”

you glance up, surprise flashing across your face before you nod. “sure.”

he takes the seat across from you, feeling oddly self-conscious. “what are you reading?”

“oh, it’s just some history book,” you say, holding it up. “nothing too exciting.”

he quirks an eyebrow. “you like history?”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, sounding a little defensive. “there’s a lot to learn from the past. plus, it helps with storytelling in photography—finding patterns, understanding context.”

he nods, impressed. “never thought about it that way. guess i still have a lot to learn.”

you smile, and he can’t help but feel a warmth spread through him at the sight. the two of you fall into an easy conversation, discussing your favorite books and stories behind some of your photos. he realizes, with a pang, that he genuinely enjoys talking to you, that being close to you feels... natural.

the conversation stretches on, and it’s only when the library’s closing announcement comes on that he realizes how much time has passed.

“guess we should go,” you say, standing up and gathering your things.

“yeah,” he says, reluctantly getting to his feet. “it was... nice, talking to you.”

you look at him, a softness in your gaze. “yeah. maybe we could do this again sometime?”

he’s stunned for a moment but manages a nod. “yeah. i’d like that.”

as you walk away, he feels a strange mix of regret and relief. keeping his distance was supposed to protect both of you, but now he’s not so sure. maybe, just maybe, this was worth taking a chance on.

you shrugged off the thoughts of taehyun being interested in you. after all, what matters now is that you guys have became friends? probably. maybe this was just how he made friends, how he interacted with people. you had convinced yourself that there was nothing more to it, even if a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was... different.

the moments you spent with him, working together on photography projects, were unexpected. you’d never imagined being so comfortable around taehyun—someone you had once thought was nothing more than an arrogant vice president. but now, as you spent hours together, trying to capture the perfect shot or giving each other tips on lighting, you found yourself actually enjoying his company. he had a way of making you laugh when you were frustrated, a quiet encouragement that helped you push past your own doubts.

sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. maybe it was admiration, or maybe it was something else. but every time you tried to understand it, your mind would race, and you’d push the thought aside. things were better this way, right? just friends.

but then, park jongsung joined the club.

you remembered the first time you met him. he had introduced himself with a wide, easygoing smile, and when he mentioned that he was from your hometown, you felt an instant connection. it was like finding a little piece of home in this campus full of strangers. after a few days of casual chats, you found yourself laughing more around him, the shared memories of your hometown providing an easy bridge between the two of you.

"so, do you still go to that café by the river? i swear they have the best waffles," jongsung had said one afternoon as you both flipped through your photos, trying to figure out the next project.

you smiled, happy to talk about something so familiar. "yeah, i miss it actually. we should go sometime."

from then on, you and jongsung spent more time together. whether it was wandering the campus, looking for new photo opportunities, or just grabbing coffee, you felt like you’d found someone who understood you. you were surprised by how quickly you clicked, how natural it felt to talk to him. and yet, as you grew closer to jongsung, you couldn’t help but notice something strange.

taehyun had started pulling away.

it was subtle at first. he stopped showing up to some of the photography sessions you had together, the ones where you’d normally ask each other to model for one another. when he did come, he seemed distant, almost like he was forcing himself to be there. the casual banter you used to share had faded, replaced with awkward silences that hung in the air between you two.

you couldn't help but feel confused. hadn’t things been going so well before? you’d been working together so often, laughing at stupid jokes, even venturing to a new café together one afternoon to try some bizarrely named coffee drink. but now, taehyun was barely around, and when he was, he kept his distance. you could almost feel a wall growing between you two, and you had no idea why.

one afternoon, as you were discussing a new photography idea with jongsung, taehyun passed by the table. you glanced up, and for a second, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—something that made your stomach drop. he paused just long enough for you to notice, but then he quickly walked away, his back rigid.

“what’s going on with taehyun?” jongsung asked, his voice low as he noticed your gaze lingering on taehyun’s retreating figure.

you shrugged, trying to act casual. “i don’t know. he’s been acting weird lately.”

jongsung raised an eyebrow. “you sure? seems like he’s been avoiding you. and honestly, i don’t think it’s just about photography. he used to hang around you a lot, right?”

you bit your lip, not wanting to admit that you had been thinking the same thing. “maybe... maybe it’s nothing. he probably just got busy.”

but deep down, you knew it wasn’t just about being busy. taehyun had always made time for you, even when he was drowning in responsibilities. this sudden distance didn’t make sense.

a few days later, taehyun’s behavior only became more apparent. during a group project meeting, he barely contributed, his responses short and curt. you caught his eye a couple of times, hoping to catch his usual playful smile, but it never came. instead, he seemed preoccupied, his gaze drifting off into the distance. even when you tried to catch his attention with a lighthearted comment, it fell flat. his only response was a stiff nod.

after the meeting, you tried to stop him as he gathered his things. “taehyun, hey—can we talk for a second?”

he turned to you, his expression unreadable. “about what?”

you hesitated, suddenly unsure of what you wanted to say. “i... i don't know. you’ve just been acting weird lately, and i don’t get it.”

his gaze shifted to the side, like he was avoiding looking directly at you. “maybe i’ve just been busy.”

“busy? with what? you used to be the first one to show up to our meetings,” you said, your voice rising just a little with frustration. “we used to talk all the time. what's going on?”

taehyun paused, a flicker of something crossing his face before he answered, his voice quieter now. “maybe i’m just tired. i’ll see you around.”

and with that, he walked away.

you stood there, feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of you. you were left standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling both confused and hurt. what had just happened? taehyun was slipping away, and you didn’t know why.

jongsung, who had been watching from a distance, approached you cautiously. “hey... i don’t know what’s going on, but i think you should talk to him. if you’re worried about something.”

you nodded, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew that the conversation would have to happen soon, whether you were ready for it or not. because right now, it felt like the space between you and taehyun was widening more and more with every passing day, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the question kept repeating in your head: why was taehyun pulling away?

the next few days felt like a blur. you tried to focus on your work, on your photography, but your thoughts kept drifting back to taehyun. you found yourself watching him more than you should have, trying to decipher the coldness that had replaced his usual warmth. each time you saw him, a knot would form in your chest, but every time you tried to confront him, the words just wouldn’t come.

it wasn’t until a week later that you caught him alone in the library. he was sitting at a table, headphones on, completely absorbed in his work. you hesitated, heart racing, but finally, you walked up to him.

“taehyun,” you said softly, and he looked up, surprised.

“hey,” he said, taking off his headphones. “what’s up?”

you took a deep breath. “i need to ask you something. why have you been avoiding me?”

taehyun’s expression faltered for a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “i’m not avoiding you,” he said quickly, but the way he said it didn’t convince you.

“yes, you are,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. “it’s been going on for weeks. ever since jongsung joined the club. i don’t know what’s going on, but it’s like you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

taehyun looked away, his jaw tightening. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the silent struggle he was going through.

and then, for the first time in weeks, taehyun spoke, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

“maybe it’s because i’m... jealous.”

“what?” you asked, barely catching what you had just said.

taehyun stood up abruptly, his eyes avoiding yours. “nothing,” he muttered, grabbing his things in a hurry, clearly trying to escape the conversation.

“wait, no, what did you say?” you shot up from your seat, your voice rising before you could stop yourself.

he didn’t answer. instead, he walked quickly toward the exit, and you followed instinctively, unable to let it go.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, your frustration growing. “this is just like when i was fresh in the club—pushing me around, avoiding me for no reason.”

the librarian, who had been watching the interaction with a disapproving eye, shushed you sharply.

you froze, immediately feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “sorry,” you muttered, but it was too late. the awkwardness lingered in the air.

once the librarian returned to their desk, you rolled your eyes, exasperated. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching taehyun's retreating figure. if this is how he wants it to be, then fine. let it be.

the next few days were a mess.

taehyun and you had completely slipped back into the routine of barely speaking. when you did exchange words, they were clipped, almost hostile. the small conversations you had during club meetings felt strained, like every word was carefully selected to avoid any real connection. and every time he looked at you, it felt like he was trying to pretend you didn’t exist, or worse, like you were the last person he wanted to see.

it was frustrating. maddening.

you would sit across from him in club meetings, pretending to be absorbed in your work, while the tension simmered between you. whenever you spoke, it was as if you had to hold back everything you wanted to say, every insult, every sharp retort that begged to be released.

one afternoon, during a club meeting, the silence between you two was thick enough to cut through. everyone was focused on the tasks at hand, but the second you exchanged a glance with taehyun, everything shifted. his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and you caught that look—the one that said he was done with you. done with whatever had been between you.

“hey, could you pass me the camera?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you reached for the equipment, hoping he wouldn’t refuse, hoping that maybe, just maybe, things could still be normal.

taehyun didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on his phone for a moment too long. when he finally looked up, his expression was unreadable. “it’s right there,” he said, pointing toward the camera on the table without moving an inch.

you froze, your frustration boiling up. right there? you were clearly reaching for it, but instead of handing it over, he dismissed you like you weren’t even worth the effort.

“right,” you muttered under your breath, reaching for the camera yourself, the tension in your muscles growing with every second.

the rest of the meeting went on in a similarly tense silence. every word that came out of your mouth felt like it had to be calculated, as if he would pounce on any slight mistake. and sure enough, the moment you spoke again, taehyun was there, his comment sharp and cutting.

“maybe if you spent less time looking for drama, you’d actually get the work done right,” he remarked offhandedly, his tone mocking.

your blood boiled. “oh, sorry. i didn’t realize you were the authority on how to get things done,” you shot back, the sarcasm in your voice cutting deep.

“you’re always looking for a fight,” he muttered, not even bothering to look at you this time. “I’m just saying, focus on the project. it’s not like we have all day to babysit you.”

you clenched your fists, trying to hold back the urge to snap at him, but you couldn’t. not anymore. “you know, maybe i wouldn’t need babysitting if you weren’t always trying to make everything about yourself.”

taehyun’s head snapped toward you, his expression darkening. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

“it means everything you do is always about proving how much better you are than everyone else,” you said, standing up now, unable to keep your voice steady. “it’s always ‘taehyun this’ and ‘taehyun that.’”

he stood up as well, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn’t feel so left behind.”

your chest tightened. “left behind?” you repeated, incredulous. “you’ve been ignoring me on purpose, taehyun. don’t act like it’s about effort.”

“oh, so now i’m the villain?” taehyun sneered, taking a step toward you. “maybe you just don’t get it. you think this is high school, where we’re supposed to be in constant competition with each other, huh? well, newsflash, it’s not. I’m done trying to cater to your drama.”

your heart pounded in your chest, and the words slipped out before you could stop them. “maybe i’m just done with you. for good.”

taehyun paused, his eyes narrowing as he tried to process your words. “is that supposed to hurt? because it doesn’t.”

the coldness in his voice stung more than you cared to admit, but you refused to back down. “good. because i don’t care. go ahead, do your thing. you’re so good at it.”

“you think you know everything about me?” he sneered, stepping even closer now. “you don’t have a clue.”

“and i don’t want one,” you shot back, your voice a mix of anger and hurt. “you’re exhausting.”

you turned away, your hands shaking slightly, and you could feel the weight of his stare burning into your back. but you didn’t look back. you couldn’t.

the atmosphere was tense again at the next club meeting. the small banter you and taehyun had been sharing in the past few weeks was gone, replaced by the usual coldness. you were discussing a new project when taehyun made another unnecessary comment about your work. it was the same thing every time lately: he had to say something, anything, to get under your skin.

“you’re still overexposing the photos,” he said with a casual shrug, glancing at your camera settings.

“oh, really? thank you for the critique, taehyun,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “i didn’t realize i had an expert on photography sitting across from me.”

taehyun rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “i’m just trying to help, but if you want to keep messing up your settings, go ahead.”

“maybe i’ll just start messing up all the settings on purpose so you can feel better about yourself,” you muttered, not caring if he heard you.

“oh, please, you’re not that creative,” he snapped, leaning back in his chair. “if you actually put some thought into it, maybe you wouldn’t need me to fix everything.”

you narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your chest. “you know what, taehyun? i don’t need you for anything. i can handle it.”

“clearly,” taehyun said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at the camera in your hands. “it’s not like you’ve gotten anywhere without my help.”

beomgyu, who had been sitting quietly nearby, smirked at the scene unfolding before him. “wow, so much tension. you two should really just admit it and get it over with.”

“what?” you and taehyun both said in unison, clearly not expecting that response.

“admit what?” you asked, your tone dripping with confusion and irritation.

“that you’re both clearly interested in each other but are too stubborn to admit it,” beomgyu said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as if he were just making an observation. “or is that just me?”

you and taehyun exchanged a sharp glance. “shut up, beomgyu,” you both muttered simultaneously.

“you know, you really should just get together already,” beomgyu teased, nudging yeonjun, who was seated next to him. “we can all tell there’s something between you two.”

yeonjun shrugged, his voice lighthearted. “yeah, it’s like watching a soap opera. seriously, just kiss already, save us the trouble.”

taehyun’s face turned red, and he stood up abruptly, his voice tight with frustration. “this is ridiculous.”

beomgyu snickered, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing. “what’s the matter, taehyun? you don’t like being called out on your crush? or maybe you don’t want her to know how pathetic you are?”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “pathetic? really? you’ve got some nerve.”

beomgyu gave you a playful glance, then turned back to taehyun. “yeah, taehyun, i thought you were the perfect guy. but here you are, avoiding the obvious.”

“shut up, beomgyu!” taehyun snapped, his face flushed with embarrassment. “this has nothing to do with that.”

“well, i thought you got close to her?” soobin called from across the room, smirking as he overheard. “wasn't that the plan? thought you two were getting along.”

taehyun’s gaze flickered toward you, where you were showing jongsung some of the photos you took two days ago. he clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing. “yeah, well, that didn’t exactly work out, did it?”

you glanced up just in time to catch the look he was giving you, and the frustration boiled up inside you. “no, because you made it not work,” you muttered under your breath.

“looks like jongsung’s getting a lot of your attention now,” soobin teased, nodding towards you and jongsung, who were laughing over a photo you’d taken. “what happened, taehyun? was she just another project for you?”

taehyun didn’t respond, but his hands balled into fists as he stared at you. “you call me pathetic, when you are one?” beomgyu suddenly added, leaning over the table and addressing both of you. “seriously, all of you are a mess. if you two keep playing these games, you’ll just end up hurting each other more than you already have.”

taehyun opened his mouth, ready to snap something back at beomgyu, but he stopped himself. instead, he just muttered something incoherent under his breath and stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

the rest of the group fell silent, unsure of how to respond. beomgyu looked at yeonjun, who shrugged nonchalantly, and then they both turned to you.

“well, that was fun,” yeonjun said, smirking. “i guess we’re just waiting for the drama to unfold now.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “you guys have no idea what you're talking about.”

“really?” beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “because it’s obvious to everyone but you two.”

you glared at him, but instead of responding, you stood up, grabbed your camera, and left the room in silence. the last thing you needed was to be around anyone who thought they had all the answers. especially not when the one person who could make you feel like everything was normal again was making everything feel like a mess.

as you walked down the hallway, you couldn’t shake the feeling that taehyun was the one person who had the power to make you feel completely insane, and yet, you still couldn’t get him out of your head.

it was a rare moment of peace in the student lounge when you found yourself there, trying to unwind after a long day. the soft hum of the air conditioning and the low chatter of students around you seemed like a world away, and for the first time in days, you thought maybe things would settle. but fate had other plans.

as you walked over to the coffee pot, ready to grab the last bit of the warm brew, you saw him there—taehyun, standing by the counter. the same, infuriatingly perfect taehyun who seemed to be everywhere you went lately. you didn't think much of it at first, just a simple coincidence, right?

but when you reached for the handle at the same time, your fingers brushed his.

you froze. something in the air shifted, thick with the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks. he didn't pull back, but neither did you. there was a beat of silence, and then you both tugged at the pot, trying to claim it for yourselves.

“do you always have to be around when something’s mine?” you snapped, your grip tightening on the coffee pot, as if the act of holding it would somehow give you control over the situation.

taehyun's eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. he said nothing for a moment, just studying you, before he finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with irritation. “what are you talking about? it’s just coffee.”

“yeah, well, it seems like everything is just yours lately,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your voice as you glared at him. “coffee, the spotlight, the club meetings—you name it.”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “are you seriously starting this again? you’re still on about that? we’re not in high school anymore.”

you stepped closer, your voice low but heated. “oh, I know,” you bit out, staring up at him, “but for some reason, every time things seem to get fine between us, you just pull away, like i’m not even worth your time anymore.”

taehyun's jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just walk away, but he didn't. instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice sharper than before. “you’ve always been the one who thinks everything’s a competition, haven’t you?”

your heart thudded in your chest, the frustration building with every word. “you’re one to talk,” you hissed, not backing down. “what, did you think i wouldn’t notice how you’ve been acting? pretending like i don’t exist when jongsung shows up? making me feel like i’m the one doing something wrong when you’re the one who changed.”

“don’t make this about me,” he said, voice cutting through the air like a knife, harsh and final. “maybe i’m just tired of dealing with you. maybe it’s you who’s making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“me?” you laughed bitterly, feeling the sting of his words like a slap. “are you seriously blaming me right now? you’re the one who keeps pushing me away every time we get close. every time Ii think we might actually be friends, you act like i’m nothing.”

taehyun's exhale was sharp, his hand rubbing his temples like he was trying to ward off a headache. "it’s not about you. i never said you were nothing. just... forget it, alright?"

“forget it?” you stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief. “do you hear yourself right now? you can’t just forget this. i’m not some passing thing for you to get over whenever you feel like it.”

his eyes flickered with something—was it guilt? regret? but then it was gone, replaced by that same hard, unreadable expression. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, voice low. “you never listen, always making everything into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

you felt your anger rise like a fire in your chest, the frustration boiling over. “you think I’m impossible? you’ve been shutting me out for weeks. so tell me—what is it, taehyun? are you mad because i’m spending time with jongsung? or is it something else?”

taehyun’s gaze darkened, and he took a step toward you, his presence suddenly overwhelming, dangerous even. “maybe I am mad,” he said, his voice rising now, each word coming out like a punch. “maybe I am jealous, okay? jealous of how easy it is for him to get close to you while i’m stuck pretending i don’t care.”

the silence that followed was deafening. the words hung in the air, thick and heavy.

“jealous?” you repeated, the laugh that escaped your lips was bitter, almost hollow. “you’re jealous? that’s why you’ve been acting like a jerk? are you seriously telling me that after all this time?”

taehyun’s face hardened, his eyes flashing with something raw. “yeah, that’s exactly what i’m saying. but you wouldn’t understand, would you?”

the sting of his words hit you harder than you expected. it was like a punch to the gut, making your breath catch in your throat. “so, this is how it ends, huh?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “we’re back to being enemies again.”

taehyun’s expression faltered for a moment, the walls he’d built up around himself cracking just slightly. he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply, looking almost defeated. “maybe. maybe this is just how it’s supposed to be.”

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest, the overwhelming weight of his words. shaking your head, you scoffed bitterly. “fine. if that’s what you want, taehyun. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the quiet lounge. each step felt like it was pulling you farther away from him—farther away from the mess you had both created. and yet, as you walked out of the room, the unspoken words between you felt like a knot in your throat, a weight that wouldn’t lift, no matter how far you went.

the tension in soobin’s room was palpable, like an invisible force pressing down on everyone. the soft hum of the television was the only sound that filled the space, but even that felt like an afterthought in the midst of the conversation.

“you're literally out of your mind,” beomgyu said, staring at taehyun like he'd just confessed to committing a crime. his voice was full of disbelief, the kind of tone you’d use to scold someone who’d done something completely irrational.

“you fucking idiot, you really said that?” yeonjun chimed in, shaking his head, his expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement. he was slouched across soobin’s bed, his arms crossed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

soobin, who had been quieter than usual, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with an odd mix of sympathy and exasperation. “she's got a point for calling you a jerk.”

taehyun shifted uncomfortably, his eyes on the floor, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. the shame from the argument earlier that day was still fresh on him. but it wasn’t just that. there was a gnawing frustration, a feeling that he’d screwed up in a way that was far worse than any of them could understand. “yeah, well, i didn't mean to... it just... happened,” he muttered, sounding like he was trying to justify his actions, but knowing deep down that there was no excuse for how he'd handled things.

beomgyu, ever the blunt one, added, “you are so great when it comes to giving us advice, yet you messed up yours.” his tone was teasing, but there was a bite to it, like he was calling out taehyun for being the only one who couldn’t take his own damn advice.

taehyun ran a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. he sank into the chair by soobin’s desk, ignoring the way his friends were looking at him like he was an idiot. “i don’t know what happened,” he admitted, his voice quieter this time, almost to himself. “it’s just... she gets under my skin. i thought i could figure it out, but when I’m around her... everything just feels wrong. i don’t know how to make it right.”

the silence in the room grew heavier. soobin watched him for a moment before speaking, his usual calm demeanor now tinged with something else, something more serious. “you messed up big time, tyun,” he said softly. “but the thing is, you're not the only one who's made a mess of things. you’ve been too busy trying to play the role of the perfect guy—while you’ve been pushing her away. you can’t fix things if you don’t admit that you messed up.”

beomgyu snorted, “honestly, it’s like you’ve been waiting for someone to just shove a mirror in front of your face and make you see what you’ve been doing.”

taehyun froze. the words hit him harder than expected. that was exactly it. everything about you—your voice, your laugh, the way you challenged him, the way you got so damn close without even realizing it—it made him nervous in a way he couldn’t explain. but it wasn’t just nerves. it was this all-consuming feeling that made it impossible to ignore anymore.

he had tried to push you away, to bury the way you made his heart race when you were near. the way your scent lingered in his mind long after you left. the way you made him feel like a damn fool just because you existed.

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hands over his face. “i don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

yeonjun shrugged, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “maybe the first step is actually telling her how you feel. you never know—she might feel the same way. but you’re never going to know if you keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

taehyun let out a frustrated sigh. “yeah, well, it’s not that simple.”

soobin’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “maybe it’s not. but you’ll never get anywhere if you keep hiding behind all this... bullshit.” his eyes met taehyun’s, steady and unwavering. “just go talk to her, hyun. don’t let this be the thing you regret.”

taehyun slumped back in his chair, his thoughts swirling in a thousand different directions. how had everything gotten so complicated? why had he let it get this far?

he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. you were more than just a rival now—you were someone who made him feel things he couldn’t control. and he didn’t know what that meant, or what he was supposed to do about it, but he couldn’t keep running from it anymore.

“god, i’m an idiot,” he whispered to himself, the weight of his own words sinking in.

the days following taehyun’s breakdown were tense, to say the least. the atmosphere between him and you was thick with unspoken words, neither of you willing to take the first step. taehyun spent his time in a haze, going through the motions of class and meetings, but the weight of what he had said to you—the hurt in your eyes when he walked away—lingered like a bruise he couldn’t escape. every time he saw you, it felt like a reminder of how badly he’d screwed things up.

the student lounge, where everything had started, became a place he couldn’t bear to visit. every corner of the campus reminded him of the argument, the way you’d walked away, and the silence that followed. he couldn’t stand it.

but despite the tension, taehyun couldn’t bring himself to fix things. not yet. because to fix it, he’d have to admit something to himself that he wasn’t ready for. he had to admit that he liked you. more than just as a rival, more than as someone he wanted to beat or outshine. you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. you had made him nervous, made him feel things he couldn’t control. and that scared him more than he cared to admit.

meanwhile, you had thrown yourself into your work. school, student council meetings, and spending time with your friends were your distractions. but no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of taehyun kept creeping into your mind. his words—his confession of jealousy—kept replaying in your head, over and over. you didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, you knew. something was off between the two of you, and the longer you ignored it, the worse it became. you tried to push it away, but you knew there was only so much you could do before you would have to face it. face him.

it wasn’t until another council meeting that things finally came to a head.

the room was quieter than usual as the group discussed the upcoming project. taehyun sat across from you, his eyes flicking between the papers in front of him and you. it was impossible not to feel the tension between the two of you, even with beomgyu and yeonjun sitting beside him, laughing and chatting like everything was normal. but nothing felt normal. not anymore.

you could feel taehyun’s gaze on you, but you refused to look up. not yet. not until you were ready. you couldn’t help but think of how everything had gotten so complicated between the two of you. what had started as a simple rivalry had turned into something far messier than either of you had expected.

when the meeting ended, everyone started to pack up their things. taehyun lingered by the door, his eyes still on you. his jaw was tense, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to figure out how to approach you without sounding like an idiot.

you glanced up, catching his gaze for the briefest moment before quickly looking away. your heart was pounding in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm. you couldn’t let him see how much he still affected you. not now.

“so,” taehyun began, his voice quiet but firm. “we need to talk.”

you stiffened, your body going rigid at his words. you knew this conversation was coming, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon. or maybe you had hoped it wouldn’t come at all. because deep down, you were scared. scared that the things you had been ignoring for so long would finally come to light and shatter everything.

you didn’t say anything at first, just nodded curtly and stood up from your seat. “we don’t have to talk. we’ve been through this already, taehyun.”

his brow furrowed, the frustration evident in his expression. “no. not like this. not like before. i—”

“you what?” you cut him off, finally meeting his gaze. your voice was sharp, but there was a tremor in it that betrayed your emotions. “you messed up, taehyun. you pushed me away when you should’ve said something. when you should’ve just... been honest.”

the words hung heavy in the air. you could see him struggling, his fingers twitching like he was trying to hold onto something, to make this right.

“yeah, I know,” he said, his voice low. “i know i messed up. but it’s not that simple. i didn���t... i didn’t mean for it to happen this way. i didn’t mean to push you away.”

you laughed bitterly, the sound escaping before you could stop it. “but you did. you’ve been doing it for weeks, taehyun. every time i thought we might actually get somewhere, you shut me out. and for what? because i spent time with jongsung?”

he flinched, and you saw the regret flicker in his eyes. “no, it’s not just that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s because every time you’re around, i... i get so damn nervous. it’s like everything about you drives me crazy in a way i can’t explain. I didn’t want to admit it, but i can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

you stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest. this was it. the truth you had been waiting to hear. but now that it was out in the open, you didn’t know how to respond. it was too much. too much to process all at once.

“you’re... you’re saying this now?” you asked, your voice breaking.

he nodded, taking a tentative step toward you. “yeah. i’ve been an idiot. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. i should’ve said something sooner. i just didn’t know how. i didn’t know how to handle it.”

there was a long silence between you two, a moment where neither of you knew what to do next. the world seemed to slow down, and everything else—the noise from outside the room, the bustling hallways—faded into the background. it was just the two of you, standing there in this charged space, both of you tangled up in feelings you didn’t know how to untangle.

finally, you broke the silence. “so, what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

taehyun’s gaze softened, and for the first time in weeks, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “i don’t know,” he admitted. “but i want to try. i want to fix this. i don’t want to keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”

you took a deep breath, your heart still racing as you considered his words. you had been so angry, so frustrated with him. but maybe, just maybe, this was the first step toward something better. something real.

“maybe we can start by being honest with each other,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. ”no more games. no more pretending. just... the truth.”

taehyun nodded, a small, uncertain smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah. that sounds good.”

but even as the words hung in the air, both of you knew that this wasn’t the end. not yet. the tension between you still simmered, the unresolved feelings still swirling in the space between you. but there was a shift. something had changed.

and in that moment, as taehyun took another step closer, his gaze locking with yours, you both realized that this wasn’t the easy solution. it wasn’t the perfect ending. but it was a start. a start to something neither of you had expected.

the future was uncertain, and there were still so many things left unsaid. but as you stood there, facing each other, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t finished with each other yet. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

the world outside the room continued to move, but for now, it didn’t matter. all that mattered was what happened next. what you and taehyun would do with the truth you had finally found.

and in the end, maybe that was the only thing you could control. the next step.

but where it would lead? neither of you knew.

“so…” you started, voice teasing, knowing exactly what you were doing to him. “you like me? like that much it makes you nervous?”

taehyun froze for a second, his eyes widening before he quickly caught himself. a soft laugh escaped his lips, but his eyes betrayed him—there was something deeper there, something that hadn’t changed, no matter how much time had passed.

“seriously?” he muttered, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “now of all times?”

you raised an eyebrow, taking a playful step closer. “oh, c’mon. you can’t expect me not to say it. after all these years… still makes you nervous, huh?”

taehyun leaned against the bar, eyes momentarily darting to the side before meeting your gaze again. “what do you want me to say? that you’re right?” his voice was light, but there was an undertone of something more—something familiar. something between you both that still hadn’t quite gone away.

you grinned, arms crossed. “honestly? yeah, i do. i mean, we’re not exactly strangers anymore. i think you can admit it now, don’t you?” you whispered, flashing the small diamond ring in your finger.

he rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips. “you’re insufferable, you know that?” he teased, the sarcasm not hiding the affection in his tone. “always making me feel like i’m still that guy from way back when.”

“and you’re still the same guy i thought was impossible to talk to. but hey, look at us now,” you said with a smile, stepping in just a bit closer. “you’re nervous, but you’re not running away. progress, huh?”

taehyun let out a low, defeated laugh, shaking his head again. “guess so. but don’t think i’m letting you win this one.”

“win? i thought we were past that.” you couldn’t hide the playful grin spreading across your face. “unless... you're saying you don’t still get nervous around me?”

taehyun’s gaze softened. “i never said that,” he admitted quietly, his voice lower now, more genuine. “i guess... i guess some things never change, huh?”

you felt your heart skip a beat at the shift in his tone. you weren’t sure where this new side of taehyun had come from, but you couldn’t deny how much you liked it. how much you liked him.

“maybe some things,” you said softly, meeting his gaze fully. “but i think we’re better now. less about the games and more about... figuring things out.”

taehyun leaned in just slightly, his voice almost a whisper. “yeah, maybe. you were right about one thing, though.”

you tilted your head, waiting for him to continue.

“you’ve definitely made me more nervous. more than i’d like to admit,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile.

before you could respond, yeonjun, ever the interrupter, appeared beside you, clapping a hand on taehyun’s shoulder.

“taehyun! stop avoiding me, man!” yeonjun grinned, clearly enjoying the moment.

you chuckled and pulled away, but not before giving taehyun a soft nudge. “guess i’ll leave you to your adoring kittens,” you teased, your voice playful. “i’ll just be with hana for a while,” you whispers planting a soft kiss on his cheeks.

taehyun returned to the table with the guys, his footsteps light but his mind still lingering on you. you were out chatting with some of the alumni club members, and for a brief moment, everything felt easy again. but then, the lights in the venue dimmed, the hum of conversation dying down into a quiet murmur. there was a noticeable shift in the air, the kind of tension that came just before something unforgettable was about to happen.

a scoff echoed from the stage, and the boys at the table exchanged knowing glances. they knew that sound all too well.

“he's really singing tonight?” soobin asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“what do we expect with our popstar,” yeonjun added with a laugh, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused by the sudden attention drawn to the stage.

meanwhile, hueningkai sat behind a guitar on the stage, his hands resting lightly on the instrument. he took a deep breath, steadying himself before he began to tune the strings. his gaze swept across the venue, his eyes searching the crowd for something, or rather, someone. when his eyes finally landed on you, there it was—the smile that never quite left his face whenever he saw you.

his fingers began to move on their own, slowly strumming the first notes of the song. as the melody registered in his ears, the memories came flooding back, just like they always did whenever he played this song. it was like a time machine—one strum of the guitar, and he was transported back to a moment, a memory that had been tucked away for so long.

gyo's note: finally, i’ve managed to post the taehyun update for the alumni homecoming. phew, schoolwork and hospital paperwork have been nonstop lately (yes, i’m a student nurse hehe). hopefully, once our finals and grand case presentation are done, i can get back to regular posting. i’ll also try to start writing the series i’ve been planning for yeonjun and soobin. stay tuned, okay? thank you for always waiting patiently. if you made it to this part, thank you so much for reading. you will be loved, xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyorouis, all rights reserved.

[still-talking-to-ghosts]

Dirt Under Your Nails

My friends, "I'm the dirt under your nails" is not Vi saying she is in any way less than or a nuisance to Caitlyn. It's the same as Jinx's "I'm always with ya, sis." It's "one flesh, one end," if you will. Vi is saying that she is tied to Cait in a way that can never be severed, no matter what has or will come between them. They have impacted each other in ways that can never be scraped or washed away, just like every other tragically intertwined relationship we see in the show. It's Jinx/Powder and Vi orienting their entire lives around their connection to the other, even when they haven't seen each other in years, even if they think the other is dead. It's Vander working for a better world for Felicia's children even after she's gone, or Silco styling Jinx's hair the same way as her mother's. It's Mel loving and hating and becoming her mother even as she is finding her own path away from her. It's Jayce being most motivated to advance Hextech for Victor's sake and then destroying it with him, to save him again. It's Ekko painting a mural of Powder thinking she's gone forever, only to leave an alternate version of her because he needs to save her as Jinx, too. It's Jinx decorating her space with mementos of everyone she's ever loved and is haunted by. It's Warwick/Vander recognizing his daughters again and again. It's a record spinning around and around with the faces of two people who will always be part of the same song. "You can't take loved away."

Arcane is a show about many things, and one of them is the beauty and horrors of love, whether it's in found family or blood family or romance. Vi is acknowledging this indelible tether to Caitlin, and also declaring that she is going to be intentional about it. They have both lost so much, even each other, in the past. Vi is essentially promising that she is always going to stay.

[ratatoilett]

katsuki is back in town, and he already regrets coming home for christmas this year.

now he’s standing in front of your house, holding a box of chocolates he thought you’d like. the kind you used to crave after long days together. he doesn’t even know if you still like them, if you even still think about those things he remembers so well. three years have passed, and yet here he is, feeling like a fool for every step that brought him to this moment.

he rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to push down the nerves. why is this so hard? what if he’s changed too much, and you don’t recognize anything familiar in him? or worse—what if you’ve changed, and he’s holding on to someone who doesn’t exist anymore?

he’d thought it ended on a good note. that’s what he told himself all those years ago. so why is he so afraid to see you now? why does it matter so much?

fuck it, he raises his hand, giving a quick knock on the door before he can talk himself out of it. but before he finishes, he hears movement from inside, and the door opens, catching him off guard.

“oh, fuck, you scared—”

it’s you. the words die in your throat, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. even the snowflakes look suspended in mid-air as you stare at each other. he opens his mouth, but only manages, “uh—hey, I, uh… sorry.”

your expression is unreadable. he used to know every glance, every little movement, every sigh. now, you’re a stranger, and it terrifies him. why can’t he read you anymore?

“katsuki, hey—” you finally say, and he hears that voice he’s kept buried in the back of his mind, replayed on endless, restless nights. he feels an urge to reach out, just to touch you, as if that would bring back something of the past.

“i—it’s been so long, katsuki.”

“babe, who’s there?” a voice calls from inside, and he freezes again, the world suddenly colder.

“it’s just—it’s a friend! this’ll just take a minute,” you say, glancing over your shoulder, almost apologetically.

a friend. the word stings, cutting deeper than he expected. he looks down, shaking his head, and forces a small, wry smile. “sorry for interrupting. i just-was gonna give you this anyway, so—”

“no, no, you can—i mean, if you want to— you say, trailing off, eyes uncertain.

he swallows the ache in his throat. he’d known this was a bad idea. but still, some part of him had hoped, against all sense, that you might feel something too, that maybe you were still who he remembered.

“nah. m' fine. just take it.”

you reach out slowly, your fingers brushing his as you take the box from him. “thank you, katsuki.”

“t’s nothin’. should get goin—”

“how—how have you been, katsuki?”

he stops, the question hitting him harder than he thought it would. he feels the world hold its breath again.

“great.”

“why did you come back, katsuki? you never—” you hesitate, your words hanging in the air. “i’m sorry, that was—i shouldn’t have asked.”

he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocks back on his heels, the words he wants to say caught somewhere deep in his chest, tangled and painful. he wants to tell you about every night he lay awake, thinking of this exact moment, of how he’d imagined you waiting for him, of how he’d never truly let you go.

“somethin's always bringin' me back to ya, i guess.”

you blink, your face shifting, as if something in his words struck a place you’d tried to keep buried. your expression softens, and he feels something in you shift, something he hasn’t seen in years. he gestures back towards your door, a small nod.

“go inside. he’s waitin’ for ya.”

but you don’t move. you just stand there, looking at him, your expression a mix of things he can’t quite read. it’s like you’re searching for the boy you knew, and instead, seeing a man who’s weathered years without you. he wonders if you’re feeling what he’s feeling now—a kind of regret that lingers, that quietly seeps into the cracks left by time.

“gotta go,” he murmurs, the words tasting hollow as he says them. “i’ll—see ya around.”

he turns to go, but you speak up, voice catching in your throat. “wait. just—katsuki, look—”

he stops, his back to you, the words sinking into the silence between you. for a moment, he stands there, torn between staying and leaving, between the past and the present.

slowly, he turns, his eyes meeting yours, and in that gaze, everything he’s ever wanted to say seems to spill over.

“i—” katsuki starts, his voice shaking ever so slightly, like he's struggling against a tide of emotions that’s threatening to drown him. he looks at you, the words weighing heavy on his tongue. “i don’t know what i thought would happen.”

there’s a vulnerability there, one you haven’t seen in years, one you didn’t even know he still carried. it hits you harder than you expected. and suddenly, it’s like the air between you two is charged with everything you’ve been holding back—everything that’s been buried deep inside for so long.

you swallow hard, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. not because you don’t want to—because you don’t know how. nothing feels right anymore.

“you didn’t have to come back,” you whisper, but the words sound like they’ve been stripped of meaning, like they were meant to be something else, something you can’t quite reach.

“i know.” he shakes his head, frustration tightening his jaw. “but i did anyway.”

the silence that falls between you both is heavier than any words could be. it’s thick, pressing down on both of you, pulling at all the things you wish you could say, all the things you should’ve said. there’s so much left undone, so much left unsaid, and it’s suffocating.

you look at him, searching his face, trying to see the person you used to know—the one you loved, the one you lost. but instead, all you see is a stranger. a person who’s still a part of you, but someone you can’t reach anymore.

“i—” he stops himself, his hand clenched by his side, like he’s holding back everything he’s feeling. he looks at you one last time, like he’s trying to find something that will make this easier, something that will make it all right again. but it’s too late for that. It’s been too long.

“take care of yourself, yeah?” he mutters, his voice almost a ghost of what it used to be—small, broken, like the words are falling apart before they reach you.

you can feel the emptiness of it. “yeah. you too.”

it’s all that’s left to say. there’s nothing more. you both know it, but neither of you wants to let it go, even though it’s already slipping through your fingers.

katsuki turns away, his steps slow, deliberate, like he’s dragging the weight of every unspoken word behind him. the snow falls harder now, swallowing his footprints, erasing him as if he were never here at all.

but the ache stays. it’s in the pit of your stomach, twisting with every breath. the world moves on, but this—this moment—will never leave you.

you stand there for a long time, watching him fade into the distance, knowing that this is the last time. the last time you’ll see him like this. the last time you’ll ever have a chance to say all the things you wish you could.

and just as he disappears into the snowfall, your chest tightens, your breath catching in your throat. you want to scream, you want to run after him, but you know it’s pointless. the distance between you is too great now. it always has been.

but before he’s completely gone, you see him look back one last time. just a flicker. just a moment. and you wonder, for the briefest of seconds, if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

then he’s gone.

and all that’s left is the quiet. the snow. the space between you both, filling up with everything that will never be.

[buckevantommy]

Bucktommy Fixit where they reconnect next year and become friends - albeit ones who mostly converse via text and only really see each other on calls or running into each other at a bar etc. They don’t actually make plans to hang out, they just keep in touch. But keeping in touch turns into daily text conversations about anything and everything which turns into post-shift phonecalls at least once a week.

Meanwhile: Buck is casually dating, maybe more than one person, because he’s not looking to settle down right now he’s just looking to have some fun and meet some interesting people. But he starts dating one guy a little more seriously, to the point he stops dating others.

Also: Tommy’s been seeing a therapist. And doing art therapy. And trying his damndest not to turn into a sad lonely old man. It was a new year’s resolution kind of thing. He’d dated casually but soon realised it was better to just meet his base needs and focus on platonic relationships - like new friends and old friends, acquaintances and coworkers, and what little family he still talks to. 

Someone asks how Buck’s new boyfriend feels about Buck texting his ex-boyfriend so much (and Buck has mixed feelings about all of that: having an ex-boyfriend and a second boyfriend makes him giddy and conflicted all at once). He starts to wonder if he shouldn’t be texting Tommy so much now that he’s dating someone properly. But he doesn’t get the same want to text his boyfriend about his work day or random things in his life, and when they do text it’s brief and he doesn’t respond to Buck’s rambling trains of thought the same way Tommy does. He thinks it’s fine. Not everyone is a texter. And Tommy is his friend and people text their friends all the time while dating or being married.

But it’s different when it’s an ex. And Buck hasn’t told his current boyfriend that the friend he’s always texting with is an ex. Not that current boyfriend is aware of how much they’re texting or how often they talk on the phone. And current boyfriend knows Buck’s ex is called Tommy. And Buck always just says ‘a friend’ whenever current boyfriend asks who pinged him. Never ‘just’ a friend; Tommy will never be that for Buck, despite everything.

Things come to a head late one night after/during a rough shift or after a fight with Buck’s current boyfriend. Buck calls Tommy and vents because Tommy always lets him vent and always listens to what he has to say, and then he broaches what they haven’t discussed since reconnecting months ago: does Tommy ever think about where they’d be right now if they were still together?Buck has taken responsibility for his part in moving too fast, but he wants to know more about Tommy’s headspace now compared to when things ended between them. It’s curiousity in that ‘what if’ sense, but he also wants to know how Tommy is really doing, if he’s opening himself up to people, letting himself be happy, be loved.

There’d been a closure type of conversation not long after they reconnected, with Tommy apologizing and being sincerely happy for Buck and mentioning how he’s been working on himself a lot in the time since. And buck was happy for him but Tommy held back on details about what exactly he was doing and what that meant for him and his future relationships. He wanted Tommy to want to tell him, so he didn’t pry, but he liked the idea of being a friend Tommy could be open and honest with.

“Evan..”

Tommy knows he hates when he calls him ‘Buck’, but he never actually switched back to ‘Evan’, instead just kind of omitted saying his name altogether. Buck wonders what he’s listed as on Tommy’s phone. On Buck’s phone Tommy is ‘TK’, and he’s told more than one white lie to more than one nosey person that it was a firefighter friend from Texas - gay but happily married. He does keep in touch with T.K., but there’s periods between his letters on Buck’s contact list.

Tommy already said he’s sorry. He’s already told Buck it wasn’t his fault, that he would’ve ended things eventually even if they took their time with every step and that’s on him, it’s his issues and his life, not Buck’s.

“I can’t think about that.”

“I think about it all the time.”

Buck has a boyfriend and he’s happy, but he thinks about his ex-boyfriend slash current friend and what they could’ve looked like today if Buck had found a way to make Tommy believe he wanted all of him. He tells himself it’s to know himself better, to be better prepared and try harder next time. But he’s kidding himself if he says it’s not because he still has feelings for Tommy.

“You have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

And.. he is. He is happy with current boyfriend. But he was happy with Tommy. And he can’t help wondering if he was happier with Tommy than he is right now, or if Tommy was right and his excitement and wonder about being in a queer relationship got muddled up with how he felt about Tommy. He still doesn’t know. He wishes he knew. 

“I was happy with you.” Tommy sighs over the line but Buck doens’t let him cut things off. “I know you think it was puppy love, and that I didn’t know you well enough, but.” But. He knows Tommy better now. Tommy has opened up to him as a friend, sharing personal details about himself and his past - not everything Buck wants to know and he never could bring himself to ask, but he’s learned things about Tommy in these past few months that he wishes he’d known when they were dating. And he wants to know more. He wants to know it all. 

“But?”

“Sometimes, it works backwards.” Sometimes you get to know someone and fall for them, and then you learn dark things about their past or get a better look at their emotional baggage or they go through a rough time. And some people break up because it’s too much or not what they wanted. But some people simply care more, and become stronger together for it. Buck wanted the chance to know Tommy better, to be there with him through the bad times. He never got to find out how things would’ve gone but he thinks he knows his own heart well enough to know he wouldn’t have abandoned or rejected or hated or been fed up with Tommy because he has a past or he’s imperfect or life threw some crap at him.

Buck knows people are more than they seem. He wants to see them for everything they are, to be trusted with that, the same way he wants to be seen in return and wanted anyway.

“What does?”

“Love.”

Sometimes, you love someone more after you learn the bad stuff - or what they think is bad - not less.

Buck breathes in as Tommy remains quiet.

“I didn’t have to know all of you to love you, Tommy. And whatever you think about how I would’ve reacted to the things you didn’t share with me, you’re wrong. I know I would’ve loved you anyway. And not out of pity, or some misguided infatuation, but because knowing you better means getting to love more of you, it means loving you better.”

Tommy doesn’t respond, and when there’s a bleep from Buck’s phone he thinks Tommy hung up - except he didn’t: it’s a facetime request. They’ve done this a few times before but only for something on a call or because it was easier for Buck to show Tommy what he was talking about in realtime rather than try to send through photos and videos.

Tommy fills his screen looking soft around the edges, hair and clothes and face bed-rumpled. His face is drawn into something that threatens to break Buck’s heart again; it beats in aching memory and yearns in equal measure. You’re good, he wants to say, you don’t deserve what you put on yourself.

“Tommy..”

[koyagifs]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂 - 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮

pairing: poly!ateez x reader au: werewolf | camp counselors | the quarry genre: angst | horror | fluff (?) word count: 2.361 words summary: Welcome to Hackett Quarry camp counselors! We know the events that have unfolded back in 2021 was devastating but we’re happy to announce we’ll be opening for the summer of 2025! With new management and now even more tighter security, we can guarantee your children are safe. We'll love to introduce our new counselors this year! warning(s): Minors do not interact! All characters will be aged up! The boys are in a relationship with the reader but not with each other! They will all be in their early 20's, including the hyung line. This is a horror fic! There will be mention of blood and guns. Characters will curse frequently, make many lewd sexual remarks toward one another, and reference drugs and alcohol, even going as far as having a few drinks around a campfire. Minors do not interact! not edited.

23:50 | June 24th hongjoong & mingi

જ⁀➴ Hongjoong glanced over at Mingi, whose fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel in rhythm with the music. Mingi's hum was soft, almost like he was trying not to disrupt the quiet atmosphere in the car, and Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a little more at ease because of it. He shifted his gaze out the window, watching as the trees blur. Hongjoong looked down to his phone, the no signal bar causing him to groan in annoyance. Mingi took a glance before he let out a chuckle.

" what's wrong hyung?"

" no signal, and we look lost Mingi. Are you sure we're going the right way?" Hongjoong asked, looking at the blank GPS screen.

" well.. we kinda lost signal a couple of miles back but -"

" so we're lost," Hongjoong huffed.

Mingi laughed, a little too casually, keeping his eyes on the winding road. "Not lost, exactly. Just... taking the scenic route."

Hongjoong gave him a skeptical look, crossing his arms. "The scenic route? Mingi, we’re in the middle of nowhere, and the GPS has no signal."

Mingi scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "Look, I may have missed a turn. But it’s all part of the adventure, right? No maps, no plans… just us and the open road."

Hongjoong let out a sigh, unable to hold back a small smile. "Only you would call being lost an adventure."

“Come on, hyung, where’s your sense of spontaneity?” Mingi teased, shooting him a playful look.

" yn and everyone else are going to be worried. We promise to keep them updated." Hongjoong grumbled, his eyes going back to the road.

Mingi sighed, " i know, especially since the place is going to be opening for the first time since -"

" since those murders in 2021, yeah i know. Speaking of, why did we agree to do this stupid summer camp?"

Mingi’s playful grin faded as he remembered. "Yeah… guess we didn’t think that part through, huh?"

Hongjoong nodded, his fingers drumming against his knee. "I still don’t know why we agreed. A summer camp at a place with a history like that? They probably think we're crazy."

"Maybe we are," Mingi joked, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. "But, hey, someone’s gotta do it, right? Plus, it’s supposed to be a fresh start for the place, a chance to move on."

Hongjoong sighed, still uneasy but trying to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were there to bring something positive. "Let’s just hope we aren’t the ones who need rescuing by the end of this.”

Mingi let out a soft hum, Hongjoong tapping his fingers to the music before something caught his eyes.

A flicker of movement just beyond the trees drew Hongjoong’s attention. He leaned forward, squinting as he tried to make out what he saw—a figure? Something that seemed out of place against the dense green backdrop.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong said, his voice low, his fingers pausing mid-tap. “Did you see that?”

Mingi glanced over, following Hongjoong’s gaze toward the trees. “See what?”

Hongjoong shook his head, still staring as the figure seemed to vanish into the shadows. “I don’t know… I thought I saw someone, just standing there. Watching us.”

Mingi chuckled nervously, trying to brush off the chill that crept into the car. “Probably just some animal, hyung. Or your imagination. It’s the middle of nowhere, remember?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong muttered, though he couldn’t shake the image from his mind. He forced himself to look away, but the uneasy feeling lingered as they drove deeper into the forest.

Just as Hongjoong looked away, the two males let out a gasp as Mingi tried to swerve away from something that was hunched over on the road. Hongjoong

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he gripped the seat, eyes wide as Mingi jerked the wheel. The car swerved sharply, tires screeching as Mingi struggled to regain control. They both caught a glimpse of a hunched figure, shrouded in shadow, barely illuminated by the headlights before it disappeared from sight.

"Mingi, what was that?" Hongjoong’s voice trembled, his gaze fixed on the dark road ahead.

"I don’t know!" Mingi's knuckles were white against the wheel, his breathing uneven. "It looked… human, but it was— I couldn’t see its face. It just… appeared."

They sat in silence, hearts pounding, as the car rolled to a stop on the side of the road. Both of them were afraid to look back, the air thick with dread.

Hongjoong swallowed, trying to steady his voice. "Should we… check it out? Make sure we didn’t hit it?"

Mingi shook his head quickly, his voice barely a whisper. "Hyung… maybe we just keep going."

" what if it was a person? " Hongjoong asked, already taking his seatbelt off.

Mingi shook his head, " it looked like an animal. Come on, we're nearly there to the camp."

Hongjoong hesitated, his hand frozen on the seatbelt buckle as he looked out into the darkness. "I don’t know, Mingi… if it was a person, we can’t just leave them here."

Mingi swallowed, glancing back at the road nervously. "Hyung, I know how it looked, but… there’s no way that was human. The way it moved, hunched over like that—it wasn’t normal."

Hongjoong’s gaze shifted between Mingi and the empty road, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But something deep down told him that stopping wasn’t a good idea. They were close to the camp, and the thought of being stranded out here with something lurking unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

“Alright,” he finally conceded, slowly putting his seatbelt back on. “But if we hear anything or see it again, we’re checking.”

“Deal,” Mingi agreed, relief washing over him as he started the car. They drove forward, the unsettling encounter leaving a lingering tension in the air as the camp finally came into view through the trees.

00:26 June 25th Hongjoong & Mingi

જ⁀➴ Mingi and Hongjoong were banging on the door, goosebumps covering their body as they sighed in defeat. Mingi crossed his arms, annoyance plater on his face as he turned to Hongjoong.

" did you even talk to the new owner?" Mingi whined, nearly stomping his feet but stopped himself when Hongjoong glared at him.

" the owner didn't pick up, i left him a voicemail.." Hongjoong mumbled, looking away from his young lover.

“A voicemail?” Mingi repeated, exasperated. “You mean to tell me we drove all this way, past… whatever that thing was on the road… for a voicemail?”

“Yeah, because that was such a good call.” Mingi gestured toward the locked door. “Now we’re locked out here, freezing our butts off."

Hongjoong huffed, crossing his arms as he looked up at the old, dark building in front of them. The camp looked even more eerie than he’d expected—weathered wood, windows dark and lifeless, as though it hadn’t been touched in years.

“ you would think with new management they’ll keep the building tidy,” Mingi mumbled.

“ look, why don’t you go and wait in the car for me hm? i’ll take a look around before we look for a hotel nearby,” Hongjoong said, not looking at him.

Mingi nodded. “Alright, but don’t take too long. This place is giving me the creeps,” he muttered, casting a wary glance around.

“I won’t be long, I promise.”

He watched as Mingi shuffled back to the car before he turned to face the old building again, squaring his shoulders and approaching the front door. He knocked once more, the echo fading into the emptiness around him.

After a few moments of silence, Hongjoong sighed, muttering under his breath. “I swear, Yn, you’re in so much trouble when I see you tomorrow.”

He took a few cautious steps around the side of the building, his eyes scanning the windows and doors for any sign of life. The wind picked up, sending a shiver down his spine as he heard leaves rustling nearby. It was quiet, but every now and then, he felt a pair of unseen eyes on him, making his skin crawl.

Back at the car, Mingi waited, glancing at his phone, though it still showed no signal. He looked up as Hongjoong returned to his side, an uneasy expression on his face.

“Any luck?” Mingi asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Hongjoong shook his head. “No sign of anyone. And still no signal?”

Mingi shook his head, disappointed. “Nothing. You think we’ll have to find a hotel?”

Hongjoong nodded, but just as he was about to speak, a faint, eerie crunch echoed from the nearby trees, causing both of them to freeze. Hongjoong’s hand instinctively moved to Mingi’s shoulder.

“Stay close,” he whispered, his own voice barely steady. Whatever was out there, they both knew it was no simple animal.

Hongjoong’s eyes darted to the source of the sound, heart pounding as he scanned the dark treeline. The crunching grew louder, deliberate, like someone—or something—was circling them.

Mingi looked at Hongjoong in fear, "hyung… maybe it’s just an animal,” he whispered, though his voice betrayed his unease.

But Hongjoong shook his head, eyes narrowing as he listened. "That’s not just an animal, Mingi. It sounds… heavier.”

They stood side by side, barely daring to breathe as the footsteps grew closer, each crunch of leaves sending a wave of dread through them. The sound was heavy, calculated, like something stalking its prey.

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, holding Mingi a little closer. “Stay behind me,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving the shadowed trees. He could feel Mingi’s hand trembling on his arm, but he kept his own grip steady, bracing himself for whatever might emerge.

“Hyung…” Mingi’s voice was a shaky whisper, his wide eyes darting around, searching for a way out.

With the wind howling, the leaves shuffling and the full moon shining brightly down below them seemed such a scene out of a horror movie. The taller male clinging onto the shorter male as he held his phone, the light shinning as much as it could.

“ hyung, let’s just go back into the car and -“

The sudden animalistic growl cut Mingi off, Hongjoong shifting his light towards the sound. Mingi’s grip tightened on Hongjoong, making him hiss out in pain.

Hongjoong winced, trying to shake off the discomfort as he adjusted the light, its narrow beam barely cutting through the darkness around them. Mingi reluctantly loosened his grip but stayed close, his wide eyes fixed on the shadowed trees as another low growl echoed from deeper within the forest.

“Let’s… let’s just go back,” Mingi pleaded, his voice trembling. “We don’t need to know what that is, hyung. We really don’t.”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing between the safety of the car and the darkened path in front of them. The logical part of him agreed with Mingi—every instinct screamed at him to turn back and drive far away. But another part of him felt rooted, as if something in the shadows was pulling him closer, demanding his attention.

Just as he was about to speak, the growl grew louder, more ferocious, reverberating through the trees. This time, it was accompanied by the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching, as if something large and powerful was moving toward them.

Hongjoong’s heart raced, and he gave Mingi a firm push toward the car. “Get in and lock the doors.”

“Hyung, I’m not leaving you here alone!” Mingi protested, panic flaring in his eyes.

Hongjoong shrugged the younger male off as he turned to him. A look so serious, Mingi knew that he is to take everything he says serious.

“ run to the car and don’t turn back. Go!” Hongjoong yelled, shoving Mingi away just as something tackled Hongjoong to the ground.

Mingi stumbled backward, his eyes wide with fear and hesitation as he watched Hongjoong struggle beneath the weight of the creature. It had lunged from the shadows so fast, like a blur of dark, twisted limbs, pinning Hongjoong to the ground before he could even react.

“Go!” Hongjoong shouted again, his voice strained as he fought to push the creature back.

But Mingi couldn’t move, rooted to the spot in terror. Every part of him wanted to run, to obey, but seeing Hongjoong on the ground, fighting for his life, kept him frozen.

“Damn it, Mingi, run!” Hongjoong’s voice cut through the haze, snapping him back to reality.

With a strangled gasp, Mingi finally turned, sprinting toward the car with his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His footsteps were loud against the ground, but the only thing he could hear was the sound of Hongjoong’s struggling breaths and the creature’s low, guttural growls. Tears pricked at Mingi’s eyes, guilt and fear clawing at him as he fumbled with the car door, throwing himself into the driver’s seat.

He glanced back, just in time to see Hongjoong shove the creature off, his face twisted in pain but his determination unwavering. But before Mingi could even think of helping, the creature lunged again, claws flashing in the dim light.

Desperation took over as Mingi turned the key in the ignition, praying the car would start. The engine sputtered, and he cursed, trying again. “Come on, come on…”

Mingi’s hands shook violently as he jammed the key into the ignition again, his heart racing faster with each failed attempt. Hongjoong’s cries echoed in his mind, fueling his desperation, and he felt the weight of panic press down on him like never before.

“Please, please, just start!” he muttered, voice thick with fear, gripping the wheel as if sheer force would make the engine turn over.

The engine gave one last sputter before roaring to life, the sudden sound almost a relief too great to bear. As Mingi’s hands gripped the steering wheel, a cold, vice-like grip suddenly yanked him from his seat, tearing him out of the car with terrifying strength. He barely had time to scream as he was dragged backward, his nails scratching against the ground in desperation. His terrified cries pierced the night, echoing through the dense forest, scattering the last few birds that had been resting in the trees.

“H-Hongjoong!”

[auroras-zenith]

what doesn't kill you // part 3

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"They say there's a chance you could learn to walk again." He offered, trying to be as optimistic as he could. Lord knows you didn't need another thing to feel bad about.

"How big a chance?"

He flushed, looking away.

He had caught you after you had passed out, moving to sit beside you afterward.

The nurses were beginning to bustle about. You had caught a few pitying glances already–each one only making you wish your bed would swallow you whole.

"It's been done before."

"I know you know the stats." You said with a sigh.

He sighed too, squeezing your hand. "I just... I don't want you to feel like you can't. I know you can."

"Izuku."

He winced. "One in a hundred."

You sunk a little lower beneath the sheets at that.

The silence stretched on, neither of you knowing exactly what to say after that.

"Sorry I'm late." The door quietly swung shut behind the heterochromic boy as he moved to take a seat beside you; saving both of you from the awkward tension. "I couldn't get out of the press conference."

Right. Because for the rest of them, hero work went on.

You pushed the thought to the corner of your mind, adding it to the list of things you'd think about later.

He pulled a chair over, blank eyes softening as he saw you. He leaned over to give you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're okay." He said softly.

"How'd it go? Have you guys found him?" You asked, ignoring the last comment for no reason beyond its awkward nature.

You had learned from Midoriya that you had been out for two weeks, but he hadn't any other information. Apparently, he had spent most of his time here with you.

Todoroki nodded. "Bakugo did. The day after the incident." He informed you solemnly.

Your heart clenched oddly at the name.

"He got to the fucker before the authorities could. Beat him up pretty bad. For a second it looked like Bakugo was going to be charged with assault because the villain could barely walk after, but... given the circumstances..." He looked down, shaking his head.

You flicked a piece of lint off your blanket glumly. "Suppose he's been pretty busy then." You muttered bitterly.

That was the next question you had grilled Midoriya for. Turned out, in the half a month you had been in a coma, Bakugo hadn't dropped by once.

Todoroki looked at you, blinking slowly. "Y/n, it's not like that."

You scoffed but said nothing.

"It really isn't. He was so angry. He is so angry. He didn't go home that night. He stayed up until dawn looking for the villain and didn't stop till he found the guy." He told you. "He's just processing."

You sighed, turning to look out the window. "I guess." You just wished that he could process here. With you. And maybe some better food.

"He'll visit soon."

It was like that for the next couple of days. All of your friends, acquaintances, even a bunch of people you knew only by name–all showing up to wish you a speedy recovery and look at you with their pitying gazes that made your skin crawl.

And yet through it all, Bakugo never showed up.

"Are you up for another visitor?"

You looked up, slightly surprised to see a purple haired girl standing in the doorway. Jirou, as you recalled from high school–or rather, Earphone Jack she went by now.

You shrugged, nodding sulkily. What did it matter, really?

"Thanks for coming." You spoke quietly. So unlike your usual self.

She stared at you for a minute as you stared firmly at your lap. Everyone's pity was starting to drown you alive–and you had concluded that the only way to survive it was to pretend it wasn't there.

"Hiroshi and Yutaka Kota." She finally broke the silence.

You glanced up, confused. "What?"

"The children you saved." The girl answered. "Those were their names."

You shook your head. She must've been confused. "I wasn't able to save them." You whispered, hands clenched tightly together in your lap. "I was too slow.

"You're wrong. They were a bit banged up, but thanks to you they had just enough time to escape before the building really collapsed."

That couldn't have been right. And yet you wished so dearly that it was. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again–whether because you were happy or sad you weren't quite sure.

"I'm really sorry that this happened to you." She said quietly.

But there was something off about her tone. It wasn't pitying. Didn't feel like nails on a chalkboard as most people's did so often nowadays. It was... understanding. It was actually quite nice.

"But I thought it'd be nice for you to know that it wasn't for nothing. Including those two, 326 people accredit their lives to you, Cordelia."

You looked away, feeling the tears leak down your cheeks now.

"Thank you." You whispered. "It was getting really tiring hearing people tell me how 'at least I didn't die,' or some other unrealistically optimistic bullshit."

She snorted. "That's lowkey a weird thing to say to someone."

"Tell me about it."

She looks at you, and smiles.

Why had you two not been close before? You had both gone to UA together–hell, you two had more mutuals than you could count. And yet, you had never found yourselves in the other's company; and even after you both graduated, you never saw her on the field.

"Are you going to go to the hero gala?" She asked after a beat of pause.

Right. The hero gala. In the grand scheme of things, it just seemed so trivial now. "I didn't think I was still invited." You said honestly, letting your shoulders rise and fall.

"Of course you are." She corrected. "Cordelia, if anyone can learn to walk again? It's you. And even if you can't, that doesn't change your legacy. You're amazing, dude."

You smiled softly down at your sheets. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Do. It's in three days. I'll see you there, okay?"

"Wait." You called as she stood before she could make it all the way to the door. "Why did you visit me?" You asked at last.

She smiled to herself, as if thinking upon a fond memory. "You're awesome. I always see you on the news. You're revolutionizing the space. Paving the way for women. It's amazing. Honestly." She told you proudly. "You're amazing, Cordelia."

For the first time in weeks, the load in your eyes lightened slightly, and you felt your lips tug into a small smile. It didn't erase the ache in your heart or bring back feeling to your legs, but it was something.

a/n: istg my tags are broken 🥲 sorry if ur tag doesn't work

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