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Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.

A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!

General Masterlist

PART 2

You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.

With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.

When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.

Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.

Your mother had stuck with one man.

Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.

That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.

After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.

So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.

It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent  frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.

It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.

You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.

After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.

At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.

Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.

Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.

There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.

In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.

"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.

"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"

Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.

"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."

The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.

"Harry."

Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.

Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.

Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.

But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.

Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.

The way you stumbled over your words and  let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.

Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.

Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.

************************************************

ONE DAY LATER

Your shoulders are hurting.

After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.

When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.

Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.

Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.

You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.

Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.

"Hey!" You say instead.

"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"

Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."

You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.

"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.

"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.

"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.

"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.

"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.

A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.

Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.

It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.

Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.

You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.

You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.

You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.

"Need some help, pumpkin?"

Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.

Then, an idea enters your mind.

You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."

The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."

Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.

"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.

You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.

"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.

"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.

"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.

He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.

Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.

"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.

You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.

You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"

You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.

He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.

"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."

You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:

"You too."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.

Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.

Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.

You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.

"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.

You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.

*****************************************

A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.

The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.

After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.

You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.

Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?

Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.

Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.

Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.

Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.

Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.

So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.

Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.

"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.

"Good, love."

You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.

"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.

"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.

Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.

"Do I scare you?"

Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"

"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.

"Well, there you have your answer."

With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...

"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."

Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.

“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.

“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.

“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.

“Go sit.”

Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.

“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.

“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.

“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.

“What are their names?” You ask.

“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.

“You named your girl cat Hades?”

“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.

“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”

Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”

You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.

You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.

“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”

[rensylph]

Hihi! I'm not sure if you do nsfw or not, but if you do..PLEASE. IM BEGGING U TO MAKE A NSFW VER OF THE GENSHIN HIGH SCHOOL AU😭😭🙏🙏

Sure I guess, you guys consider whenever it's canon or not canon to the au. I'm sorry if it's bad It's my first time writing nsfw stuff

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 ( 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐀𝐔 ) 𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

<< yandere genshin ( school au ) NSFW version >>

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

You are a student at teyvat high, a prestigious highschool only for the wealthy and the elite has managed to get in due to one of your family members managed for you to be a student in the school, little did you know your presence will catch the hearts of many students. Characters: Diluc, kaeya, thoma, ayato, alhaitham, kaveh, childe, scaramouche, xiao, kazuha, albedo, vent

⚠️ Warning : this may have NSFW content ⚠️

(English is not my first language)

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄

NAME: (name) (last name)

CLASS: 2A

CLUB: music club

FAVORITE SUBJECT: (your choosing)

(Name) A second year student, a member of the music club, born from a middle class family has become an object of many students desires.

Diluc

A complete virgin, I mean he was saving for marriage but if you want to do it now he wouldn't mind he was having fantasies about you guys wedding night. I mean if you're planning on going to college why don't you move in with him and get married with him after college. Your life would be set.

Every time he thinks of you he couldn't stop popping a boner, even the slightest touch of your hand causes him to go crazy and go to the bathroom.

But the good thing is that the new arrangements with the student council president ayato, you and him will cross that border.

Kaeya

He has his fair share of sleeping around with the population of the school, so he's very experienced compared to his brother's diluc who is a virgin. He doesn't understand his brother's saving his virginity for the right one, until he meets you.

I mean he uses his charms to enchant the school to get everything he wants now he's regretting his choice because his reputation as a playboy is well known, causing you to avoid him entirely .

And every time he tries to flirt with you or try to indicate action, you would just look at him with a confusion. You're impossible to flirt with and so oblivious but that's a cute trait he could fix if you let him show you a good time

Thoma

Another virgin, unfortunately he has to witness you and student council arrangements and deal to keep funding incoming for your club

He's not allowed to do anything but Just watch you in the hands of predators that are willing to rip your flesh apart and feast on you.

But he also carries fantasy of himself and wishes for you and him to be together so he just needs time to strike. So you and him would be together without anyone disrupting your time.

Ayato

There are new arrangements with you and the student council, when Ayato called you and told you he had no choice but to cut the funding for the music club, and when you begged ayato saying you're willing to do anything, this gave him an idea.

So once a week or month, after school you would go to the student council meeting room and let your body be devoured by them, you allowed them to do anything with you.

Even tho the arrangement is with the entire student council, you and him would sometimes book a hotel room to spend the night together. And will use toys on you during school if you do not behave

Alhaitham

Of course accidentally witnessesing one of your rondavous with the student council, he decided to use it to his advantage. He used it to blackmail you and the student council president ayato.

So every time you do something wrong on a test you will get punished, and if you did well on a test you will be rewarded. As well every time you or him visits each other's house there will be some in course with each other

Plus every time he is stressed or overworked you have no choice but to follow him and distress him no matter the location. In school, bathroom, literally anywhere and you have to keep quiet if you guys don't get caught.

Kaveh

Poor kaveh seeing the love of your life having intercourses with your rival and roommate that gotta hurt. One time when you were with alhaitham. In exchange of keeping his mouth silent he also wants to have the same deal as alhaitham.

So every time when you finish with alhaitham you have to go towards kaveh. Heck maybe he will join you with alhaitham.

On the bright side, he's not been as stressed as before as well and he get a better view of biology and how does your body works

Childe

He's very pent up and everytime he win a game he will always expect you to reward him for doing good In the game.

Every time he's invited to a party, he will ask you to be his plus one and will not let you leave his side. If you're bored here don't worry he will take you somewhere more fun

He will take you to a hill, and you guys will make out in his car or just drive you back home so you and him could make out there. And he gets verbally jealous whenever someone tries to flirt with you

Scaramouche

Whenever he feels jealous or he feels like it, you will have to expect being pulled to the side drag into an empty broom closet and make out there

He doesn't even help you put your clothes back in or do after care just smash and go.

But sometimes he is gentle or whenever he's feeling a little nicer he's more gentler with you and gives you after care sometimes

Xiao

Also a virgin, he's very shy during his first time but gets the hang of it when you guys started to do it more often when he's not busy

He's very shy and nervous during his first time as well every time when you guys decided to have intercourses but he does have impressive stamina he can last for hours

He gets jealous when other students manage to get you before him, he once saw you walk out of the broom closet with scaramouche with a sweety body and disheveled clothing, so every time when he's jealous he's rought

Kazuha

The most gentlest and sweetest out of all of them, he can be rough but if you want to and ask him politely.

He always gives you the best after care after doing it, as well as gives you milk tea or any drink you want after doing it.

Will write poetry about your time with him In detail and will read it to you in the middle of it, it describes how he was feeling and what he wants to do with you and the things he's gonna do with you in extreme detail and find it amusing you blushing.

Albedo

He's very curious on how the human anatomy works during intercourse, so he asked you to do it with him so he could study how the body works

He calls your hook ups an experiment of the human body, he will write down every reaction thru every position or toys he uses on you.

He will say "how interesting" after managing to get a reaction from your body. And every time you guys do it, you will wear his lab coat.

Venti

The most open about your hook ups to make your other admirers jealous. And every time you try to shut him, he will reply with you " I thought you were enjoying it"

Likes to tease you a lot and grind against you when you are playing your music, same as Kazuha will write poetry about your time together.

Will always try to convince you to hook up or go another round even tho class is about in 5 minutes other wise you guys gonna be late I mean he doesn't care when ever he's late or not

[targaryenluvs]

OUR LITTLE DOVE

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal

word count: 3.0k

a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!

he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.

you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.

you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.

you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.

Everyone's born as clean as a whistle

As fresh as a daisy

And not a bit crazy

Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing

she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.

As rough as a briar

Like walking through fire

This world, it's dark

This world, it's scary

lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary It's why

I need you

so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.

You're as pure as the driven snow

your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.

your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.

hope could only get you so far.

your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.

what on earth could you provide her with?

“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!

your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.

“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”

you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.

“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”

but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?

his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.

“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.

was this your chance?

you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.

but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.

your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.

even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?

“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”

“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.

you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.

crack.

you’d been found. you fucked up.

“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”

his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.

the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.

you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.

“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”

“she should eat something better.”

“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”

he was smiling, you could tell.

“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”

you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.

“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”

“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”

“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”

coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.

“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”

you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.

coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.

“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.

“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.

his, his, his.

with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.

lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.

your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.

don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.

not with her in the way.

you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.

here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.

obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.

“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”

and you did.

when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.

when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.

through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.

through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.

when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.

when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.

you had no idea why at this point.

for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.

for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.

you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.

and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.

maybe you’d grow up and find love.

maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.

maybe we’ll heal.

you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.

you’ll always be his little dove.

[hyunjinz]

KPOP ASK GAME

your favorite group(s)?

your favorite solo artist(s)?

who is your bias in your favorite group(s) and why?

who are your ultimate biases?

who was your very first bias?

how long have you been into kpop?

which song/group introduced you to kpop?

an idol you'd love to be friends with?

an idol you don't think you'd get along with?

an idol you think would match your freak?

idols you share the same zodic sign with?

idols you share the same mbti with?

the last photo of an idol you have saved to your camera roll?

name 3 idols you'd want to accompany you during a zombie apocalypse!

your favorite hairstyle on your bias(es)?

your bias(es)' best look(s)?

tell me 3 things about your bias(es) some people might not know about!

name 5 things your bias(es) remind(s) you of?

your all time favorite kpop songs?

your favorite songs from your favorite group(s)?

your favorite kpop albums?

your favorite concepts?

your favorite choreographies?

your favorite debuts?

your favorite music videos?

your favorite collabs?

your favorite vocalists?

your favorite dancers?

your favorite rappers?

if you could only listen to one group for the rest of your life, who would it be?

if you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, which one would it be?

which song is playing during your funeral?

a kpop concept you don't like?

a group you're no longer a fan of?

a group you've been eyeing for a while but couldn't get into them yet?

name an underrated kpop group!

name an underrated kpop song!

a song everyone seems to like but you?

a song no one seems to like but you?

songs you would show to people who are not into kpop?

last kpop song you listened to?

a fandom name you like?

do you watch survival shows?

if yes, who's a survival show contestant you've been keeping up with ever since?

do you own any kpop albums/other merch?

do you collect photocards?

have you been to any kpop concerts?

a kpop group whose concert you MUST attend in your lifetime?

your favorite kpop songs from this year (2024)?

did you get into any new groups this year (2024)?

which kpop song do you think will be your most played song this year (2024)?

which group(s) did you listen to the most this year (2024)?

tell me your unpopular kpop opinion!

talk to me about anything kpop!

[gisellecnz]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

💌 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Teen!Gojo Satoru x Teen!fem!reader

💌 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The most worst thing Gojo never wanted to happen became true. But after meeting the new transferee, all his problems went away.

💌 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Highschool 2009 jjk, Gojo being sad after the Geto incident, Reader is a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high, Reader is a 2nd year and Gojo is a 3rd year, fluff, slight angst

💌 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Might actually consider making this into a series... From Gojo meeting you for the first till you both are married and have children AACKKKK. Also, if you're wondering why it's not 2006, the year where gojo and Geto separated happened during 2009 and they were 3rd years

💌 𝐖𝐂: 1.4k

2009 — 2 days after Gojo and Geto separated.

.

.

.

That sickening feeling of regret gripped Satoru as he sat down on the rough, stoned surface of the stairs outside Jujutsu high. He tried to reminisce the moments he had shared with his one and only, best friend Suguru Geto. He hoped that it would relieve his feeling of remorse after the incident. But instead, it made him feel worse. So worse that it made him feel more empty–an emptiness that was sinking deeper and deeper into the dark. He's the strongest, but why couldn't he save his loved ones? He just wishes that he had the ability to rewind the time.

EVERYONE knew that the two bestfriends were inseperable. Yet, was what so important to Satoru had been taken away from him.

Not until......

"Yo, Satoru, are you okay?" Shoko asked as she was approaching the white-haired man, who seemed depressed. Who did nothing but just stared at the ground while sitting on the stairs. It was rare to see Satoru in this state—His usual joyful and playful attitude replaced by a quiet demeanor now, made Shoko feel bad for him.

"...Yeah, I'm fine, it's just that... " He paused, not knowing what to say afterwards. He couldn't think of any excuse.

"... Don't worry, I understand." Shoko replied as she pulls out another cigarette. Searching for the lighter in her pocket.

"..Oi, Ieri-san, what do you think, am I the strongest because I'm Satoru Gojo? Or am I Satoru Gojo because I am the strongest?" He has been pondering about the same questions over and over, and still couldn't find the answer to it. But just now Shoko was too busy with her cigarette, that she didn't perceive what was Gojo was saying.

"Sorry, we're you talking to me?" Shoko puffed the smoke out of her mouth, and puts the cigarette back in to her lips.

Gojo sighs, "Well, forget it. Let's just go, that old man might start exploding by now if we go back to his class late again. " He finally stood up from the staircase as he walks together with Shoko back to class whilst watching the bright blue sky through his sunglasses.

After a few walks on the way to class, Shoko spots an unfamiliar girl who was wearing the same uniform as her, she had a pretty face. But the girl seemed puzzled of where she is right now.

Shoko taps on Gojo's shoulder, "Hey, is that the new transferee from Kyoto? I heard she's the same year as Nanami."

Gojo looked down from the sky, "Eh? Ha? What transferee? Whe–oh... " The moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt a rush of emotions. He's confused of what he is feeling. Why is his heart beating so fast? Why does his face feel hot? What? What?? You're even prettier than the model that he has as his wallpaper on his phone, just who are you?

(hey!! Waka inoue is very VERY pretty, this is just based on Gojo's perspective in my fic) (Also, think of this as the bg music of this scenario the moment gojo lays his eyes on you)

The way he is feeling right now felt so soothing and comforting, as if that emptiness he felt earlier felt like it was no longer there anymore.

He felt weird—for him, he felt like there was a connection between the two of you. His six eyes tell him that he's just crushing over you, but his soul tells otherwise. You were absolutely WAY more than that.

.

.

"Oi! Satoru! Stop daydreaming, that girl seems confused right now. We should ask her." Shoko snaps her fingers in front of Satoru's face, bringing him back to reality. "O-okay...!" His whole body tensed, and Shoko cringed at his reply.

As they approach you, your gaze met Satoru's, he feels even more tense. By now his face turned as red as a tomato.

You quickly ran towards them, feeling relieved that you finally found people that you can ask help with finding your dorm. You may have been to Jujutsu high's sister school, but this school was way different than the one in Kyoto.

"Oh thank goodness. I'm a little lost right now, but you guys must be the 3rd years. I'm [last name, first name]. I'm a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high. Nanami-san has told me about what you guys looked like in case I ran into you. " You said shyly.

Shoko smiles at your introduction, she knew you the both would get along well. "I'm Ieri-san, I work with healing a ton of people. And this is–" The moment Shoko points at Satoru, he scratches the back of his head, trying to avoid looking at you. Fuck, he's never acted like this in front of new people before. What were you doing to him? The only thing he could do right now is just to shyly wave his hands at you. "–Gojo. He may look stupid but he's actually really strong, he's a special grader."

Shoko went to take a look at Satoru, thinking why he was so quiet. Usually when he goes to introduce, he'd go boasting. He could even take an hour to introduce himself. The way he looks right now was so awkward–Red face, sweating, the way his eyes were avoiding to look at you, and he ONLY waved at you. Now that she has given a thought to it, mischievous thoughts filled up in her mind. She now found a new way to tease Gojo.

Upon hearing their introduction, your face lit up. They sounded really cool! You were happy to have them as your seniors. At that moment you didn't notice Gojo's awkwardness; you were more concerned about finding your dorm. But you wouldn't mind a little talk with them.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about you and your insane powers! You're really famous. I knew you were in Tokyo Jujutsu high. So when I was gonna transfer, I was looking forward to meet you." You were referring to Gojo.

When you looked up at him, his sunglasses were resting on the bridge of his nose, revealing his ice-blue eyes. His long white lashes framed them perfectly. His eyes we're sparkling like a sunlight above the rim of his glasses. You were slightly taken aback by how breathtaking his eyes looked. And he also had a well sculpted face. Now you understood why you kept hearing girls squeal about this particular guy.

After Gojo heard your comment about him, he felt like he could seriously melt at this moment. He stuttered a short "...T-thanks..." in reply. How long will he stay here talking with you? He can't take it anymore!

And it seemed like the gods heard his prayers, Shoko gave Gojo a teasing look. She pat his shoulders and told you that he wasn't really feeling well today. "Sorry, this guy kinda got a fever today. He'd go bragging about himself if he wasn't. He's gonna have to go back to his dorm right now." Shoko looked at Gojo with raising her one eyebrow up, giving him a teasing smile. It pissed Gojo off that she knew he had an instant crush on you. But anyway, she still helped him. "Gosh darn it you Shoko. "—he mumbled.

You turned to look at Gojo to see he was turning away now, a little disappointed that you guys didn't really get to talk that much.

"...Oh, I see. Get well soon then!" You yelled, but not too loudly as Gojo was about to head back to his dorm. But after all the talking, you remembered why you were here in front of Shoko—"Oh yeah. I forgot to ask something, it says my dorm is **** but I don't know where it is. Please help me find it!"

And after that, she was able to help you find your dorm, but the thing is..

*what happened after*

Satoru: "Shoko, what the fuck do I do. It's like I'm being tested, her dorm is right next to mines!!!??" he panics.

Shoko: "Looks like somebody's whipped..." *she raises both her eyebrows up and down repeatedly*

Satoru: "Oh my gosh shut up, I feel like I could melt any minute. What the heck is that woman doing to me... "

Shoko: "You were all emo and stuff earlier, now you're all giddy? She really did a huge impact on you. Aaaanddd it's the first time you were acting timid."

Satoru: "I know! When I first saw her, it felt so weird. I dont know how to explain it! It's like....weird in a good way.... "

tags: @byakuya61085 @angelsleepinggurl

[amirasainz]

Girl, I just listened to 'Oh qué sera' by Willie Colón and I can imagine Carlos dancing with his girlfriend to it at a restaurant or something. I love your stories so much and wanted to ask if you could write my request please😘🫠🥹

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💙

Dancing through the night

Carlos leaned back in his chair, casting a warm glance at Yn as she sipped her drink, a soft smile curling on her lips. They were out with some friends at a cozy little restaurant nestled on a quiet street. The laughter of their friends echoed around them, but in his eyes, there was only Yn. The dim lighting added a romantic charm to the evening, and he couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked in the soft glow of the candles on their table.

"You look beautiful tonight," Carlos said, his voice low but full of affection.

Yn smiled, her cheeks flushing. "You're just saying that because you want me to finish my food," she teased.

Carlos laughed softly and reached for her chair, pulling it slightly closer to his. "I want you close to me, not because of your food," he said, his hand gently resting on her thigh as he did. His fingers traced small circles on her skin, a gesture that made her feel warm and cherished.

Their friends, a mix of fellow drivers and their partners, were deep in conversation about the latest race, but Carlos and Yn were in their own little world. She reached over, stealing a bite of his steak, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Hey! I was saving that!" Carlos chuckled, but his tone was playful. "Here," he said, cutting off another piece and offering it to her. "Let me feed you."

Yn raised an eyebrow but accepted the piece, her lips brushing his fingers in the process. She smiled up at him. "You spoil me, you know that?"

Carlos just shrugged, his eyes softening. "It's not spoiling when I enjoy doing it," he replied. "You deserve it."

They continued like this, sharing bites of food, laughing at inside jokes, and exchanging sweet glances. Every time their eyes met, Carlos felt his heart flutter like it had on the first day they met. Yn had a way of making everything feel right in the world.

As the evening progressed and their friends started heading off to other places, Carlos and Yn remained at the table. The restaurant had started to empty out, the noise settling into a more peaceful hum. It was just the two of them now, the quiet punctuated by soft conversations between the two, occasionally interrupted by the distant clinking of glasses.

Carlos looked around, sensing the change in atmosphere. He reached over, squeezing Yn’s hand, which was resting on the table. "Hey," he said softly. "What do you say we stay a little longer, just the two of us?"

Yn met his gaze, her heart warming at the thought. "I’d like that."

As they sat there, savoring the peacefulness, a new song began to play over the restaurant's speakers, the familiar tune immediately catching Carlos's attention. His eyes lit up as the first few notes of "Oh Qué Será" by Willie Colón filled the air. He knew immediately it was Yn’s favorite song.

Without missing a beat, Carlos stood up and extended his hand toward her with a playful grin. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Yn’s eyes sparkled with delight. "Here? Now?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

Carlos nodded, his smile never wavering. "Of course. No better time than now."

Yn’s face broke into a wide grin as she placed her hand in his. He helped her to her feet, leading her out of their seat and onto the small dance floor that had been empty up until now. The soft lights above them made the moment feel like something out of a dream. The song was a slow salsa, and Carlos immediately pulled her close, his hand resting lightly on her waist while his other held her hand. Yn placed her other hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his touch.

They moved together, the music flowing through them as they swayed to the rhythm. Carlos's fingers lightly brushed her back, sending shivers down her spine. He loved how easily they fit together, as if they were two puzzle pieces.

"You know," Carlos murmured as he twirled her gently, watching as she laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I could twirl you all night long."

Yn laughed, her voice light and musical. "You're just saying that because you know I can't stop giggling when you do."

"Exactly," he teased, grinning as he spun her around again, watching her smile grow wider. He loved hearing her laugh—especially when it was because of him.

They danced, spinning and swaying, laughing at their own clumsy movements as the song picked up a little, but always staying close to one another. Carlos would pull her back in whenever she wandered too far, always with a gentle smile and a soft laugh of his own. Each time they came together, their gazes locked, and the world outside seemed to fade away.

As the music slowed, Carlos pulled her closer, his arms wrapped securely around her. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. "I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

Yn's heart skipped a beat at the words. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her fingers. "I love you too," she replied, her voice just as quiet and filled with emotion.

They stayed like that, dancing slowly, their movements almost imperceptible, as if time had no meaning in that moment. The song ended, but neither of them wanted to let go. Carlos continued to hold her close, and Yn leaned her head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart, a comforting reminder of the love they shared.

"You know," Yn said softly, still in his arms, "this is the best part of the night."

Carlos grinned, his thumb gently stroking her back. "I agree," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But we’ve got all the time in the world for more moments like this."

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed far away. There was no rush, no place they needed to be—just the two of them, sharing a moment of quiet, gentle love.

[enhaeil]

NITE AND DAY! ☆ 엔하이픈

"i can tell you how i feel about you, nite and day."

nite and day - al b. sure

ENHYPEN AT A COOKOUT!

c/w: implied black reader... but i mean, anybody can read ig!

heeseung

"baby i'm so nervous to meet your family. i mean what if they hate my gifts? what if they hate me? do i stink?-"

you cut him off, laughing at his nerves. "hee, my momma already loves you, so you're one step ahead. and for the record, you don't stink. you smell like me."

"not my fault. i can't keep you off of me." he says smuggly.

you roll your eyes playfully before opening your car door. "last time i checked it was you who couldn't stay off of me, mr. made-us-late." you say as you walk up the stairs to your porch. you look behind you and notice heeseung still nervously standing in front of the house.

"heeseung, get your ass in this house!"

jay

your family decided it was about time they hosted a family reunion. it would be the first family event since you and jay got married, so you thought it'd be a good idea to go.

you finish ironing the reunion shirts and throw yours on, handing jay his. you turn around in the mirror to look at where it shows your now shared last name on the back.

"mr. and mrs. park huh? who would've thought!" he says, wrapping a hand around your waist. he leans down to press a kiss on your lips before you guys head out for the busy day.

you finally arrive at the house and are immediately bombarded with family. jay feels a little awkward at first, but once the family starts giving out hugs, he's in.

you run inside to help your mom prepare some food real quick and leave jay with your brothers.

"excuse me," he feels a small hand tug on his pants. "who are you?"

he looks down at the voice and notices a small child, presumably your niece. he crouches down to her height. "well, i'm your uncle jay."

"hi uncle jay. do you want to play dollies with us?" how could jay say no to such a cute face?

by the time you come back out, jay is standing by the grill with a 'kiss the chef' apron on. you dont hesitate to make your way over there and give him a smooch.

"looks you're fitting right in baby." you say as you wipe some sweat off his forehead with a cloth.

jake

you left for 3 minutes, and you come back out to your boyfriend jake being tackled by all your little cousins.

you rush over there to save him, yanking the little ones off one by one and helping him up off the grass.

"jakey. mind explaining what happened?" you giggle, dusting grass out of his hair.

"it started off as one. then two. then the whole stampede came running towards me. they really love their uncle jake!" he says, catching his breath.

you drag him towards the food table, fixing his plate as he takes a breather. "here, you've probably worked up an appetite."

he wastes no time chowing down. he finishes his food quickly, holding his stomach as he leans back.

"you know what this experience has made me realize, y/n?" he says casually. you hum, waiting for him to continue.

"i'm ready to have a baby." you almost choke on your potato salad.

"a baby, jake? i mean,... sure, but at least put a ring on me first!"

"i'm already one step ahead of you, babe."

sunghoon

sunghoon is usually reserved and to himself around new people. however, your family has seemed to turn him into a new man.

you're flipping some meat on the grill before you feel your mans presence behind you. he wraps his arms around your waist, swaying you to the beat of the music playing.

"hi, hoonie. what's up?" you say as place your hand over his.

"i was thinking. we should take your little cousins ice skating one day." he presses a soft kiss against your check.

"you think so? what, you wanna show off your skills?" he chuckles and nods his head.

"of course and i think it'll-" he starts before he's cut off.

"aye hoon!!! come over here for a round of dominos."

"gotta go, baby, your cousins are about to teach me how to play their version of dominos!!" he says, running off like an excited kid.

sunoo

sunoo wanted to make the best impression on your family, so for the potluck, he decided to make dishes from his culture.

you watched your boyfriend as he slaved over the stove to whip up some samgyeopsal and tteok, making sure they taste perfect.

you can't help but go up to him and kiss his cheek. "it's so cute how hard you're working, noo. they're gonna love whatever you make."

"i sure hope so. i mean, y/n. these are my future in-laws we're talking about here. i refuse to be known as the brother in law who can't even boil water!"

"that will never happen! and if it does, i'll cook something, and we can say you did it." you giggle.

jungwon

jungwon had never been to a cookout before. actually, he's never been to a black cookout. man was so excited he slept next to his outfit instead of you.

you sit by the coolers as you watch jungwon mingle with your uncles. before he comes jogging back to you.

"hi won, you hungry?" you say, standing up to hug him. he presses a kiss onto your cheek before replying. "yes, let's eat!"

you fix jungwon's plate and you guys sit down and eat together. the moment he takes that first bite you swear you see his eyes light up.

"y/n. baby." he says, one cheek stuffed with chicken. you hum in return.

"i think i just fell in love."

jungwon definitely returned for seconds and a to-go plate.

niki

you were home for college and decided to bring your boyfriend back with you. every spring, your family held a reunion, and niki decided to tag along.

"are you sure i'm not invading, y/n? i mean, it's a family reunion." he says, watching you do your makeup in the mirror.

"no nik, you're good, i promise. as long as you're with me, you're family."

that afternoon, you guys arrive at the park where it was being held and make your way to the picnic area.

everyone greets you and niki as the party starts to kick off.

niki is awkward, and he doesn't know what to do at first until some of your male relatives drag him away.

by the time you see riki again, it's as if he's a different person. "y/n, baby!! come here and dance with me" he says, holding on to your waist as y'all "step in the name of love."

what does he even know about that?

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 마크 ꒱ ── cherry beer 𖥔 synopsis. . . mark would've never guessed that he'd spend his free time on some college party making out with a pretty girl

𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑑 마크 ／ reader ៸៸ college au suggestive ⟡ ⌢ . making out drinking mark loves ass now is playing! . . cherry bomb by nct 127

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. im so obsessed with mark the past week guys this is getting out of hand so i had to write it. also not proofread and everything is happening super fast in this im sorry lol

mark wasn't used to be in a place like this, he wasn't a party typa guy at all to say at least, but there he was. he could spend friday night to study and maybe produce something for his next class, but his friends wanted him to go to that frat party so bad, they were annoying him for the whole week. now he was sitting on the couch, his ears hurting from the shitty music those frat guys were playing, couple that sat right next to him were touching each other and he almost spilled his drink on him. fucking perfect.

"hey, why are you here?" donghyuck comes to him from behind, wrapping a hand around his friends shoulder. why the fuck is he asking that, he was literally the one who drugged him there and then left to go get drunk with some girls that won't even look ar him for once. mark was annoyed. he could be in his room, watching new episode of his favorite show, but no. it was all donghyuck and jisung's fault.

"because you left me to get some pussy?" mark rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair when he stood up. he followed donghyuk even if he was mad at him, there was nothing else to do at that shitty party anyway.

"hold on a minute, you were the one who said you'd be somewhere in the house not wanting to talk to girls…"

"because they do not care about you or me. dude, you seriously think those girls, looking like they just came from 'mean girls' movie would care about you?" mark chuckles at his friend's naivety. that was just stupid of him thinking that they care. "have you seen how they were all over jeno? and now they're probably having a threesome or something.."

"gosh, why are you like that?"

"like what? not blind of someone's pretty facade that they built just to get rid of the nerds like us?" mark leaned back on the wall when they got outside, breathing deeply. fresh air helped him feel better, he wasn't feeling that bad now after he finally left that crowded room that smells like alcohol and sweat. nasty.

"you're too serious," donghyuck took a sip from his drink and waved him off before he walked away. mark saw jisung smoking at the backyard with some stoner guys from the campus he saw before a few times. obviously hyuck went there to get high like it would bring some fun into this event.

mark was staring at his phone, scrolling through his discord chat with other friends, seeing they were playing minecraft. he would play it too if he wasn't there. he couldn't leave this house without hyuck and jisung though, he wasn't a shitty friend after all. they were drunk and high and he didn't want anything to happen to them.

he didn't hear when the door opened and only when someone quite literally bumped into him and almost fell, he saw you. his phone almost slipped from his hand, but that didn't matter now. mark's hands quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall on the ground. "yo, are you alright?"

"yeah, thanks." you nodded, looking up to see who saved you from falling. trying your best to get your hair out of your face, you saw mark. you knew him because you shared one class together when you both were on your freshman year, after that you were only looking at him from time to time at campus. or in cafeteria. or when he was ordering his coffee in the morning before classes at the same coffee shop you always went to. "im bad at drinking, had one fucking beer and can't stand straight already.."

"why did you drink then?" mark asked. his hands still were on your waist, holding you in place with a gentle grip. he looked at you, searching your face and eyes, something about you were super familiar but he couldn't quite understand what. like he saw you somewhere before. and you were pretty. mark's gaze dropped to your lips, lip gloss looked so shiny he was wondering how'd it taste and how'd your lips look all swollen and messy… what the hell? why was he thinking with his dick right now, that's not mark lee. something about you just brought this side of him out and he couldn't help it. so stupid.

"because this party is fucking boring!" you rolled your eyes as you heard mark's question. in all honesty you came to this party to have fun and relax after a stressful week of studies and maybe hookup with someone, but music was shitty, guys were ugly and your friends decided to get high for some reason and you weren't feeling like it. you drank one cherry flavored beer and since you're not good with alcohol, it was enough for you to go outside to get some fresh air before you could've done or said anything weird that you'd regret later. "aren't you bored, mark? that's why you're outside, yeah?"

"how do you know my name?" mark's eyes widened slightly, now he tried so hard to remember where he could possibly see you that you even know his name. you. hot girl in those fucking jeans that were hugging your ass perfectly and low cut top, he felt like he was in some teenage movie where a popular cheerleader girl allowed a nerd like him to touch her and there'd be happy ending where they ended up together or something. some stupid shit his cousin would probably watch.

"we had art class together a few years ago, you sat right infront of me and i couldn't see half of the desk because of your big head," you explained, standing straight and making sure your hair and outfit looked presentable. even though you weren't about to fall anymore, you didn't want to escape from mark's grip on your waist. you didn't want him to let go either, it also seemed like he forgot that he was touching you.

"oh! sorry dude, my bad.. um," he finally let go of your waist, making you pout slightly which he didn't notice. his hand comes to the back of his neck as he rubs it awkwardly. "how'd you still remember me?"

"can't say i didn't like that big head of yours covering the view, so i asked your friend… ugh, what's his name?" you genuinely couldn't remember the name of the guy that you asked for mark's name. he looked like he was about to cry back then when you came up to him. "the emo looking kid."

"jisung."

"i guess? whatever. i asked him for your name, poor boy looked like he was about to piss himself." you both chuckle.

"wait, you asked for my name? why?"

"you're cute," you shrugged, looking up at him. the distance between you two was small, you could smell the mix of perfume and alcohol coming from him, his hair looked soft and the only thing you wanted to do right now was run your hands through it while you kiss him, leaving him all breathless and shy. "the reason why i haven't talked to you since then is because i thought you were too busy studying.."

"too busy for what?" mark interrupted you, his cheeks now flashed slight red as he noticed your gaze on him. and when you called him cute.. he just had to believe you, there was no sign that you were lying or anything like that, he thought you'd never make fun of him too. just felt right.

"dating? fucking? not sure."

"you wanted to fuck me?!" mark was shocked, he almost yelled so you had to cover his mouth with your hand to shut him up so nobody would look at you two.

"shut up, idiot. gosh, why are you so pathetic, that's hot.." you truly didn't mean for the second sentence to come out of your mouth, but by the look in mark's eyes you could tell he was more shocked and confused now. you put your hand down, clearing your throat as you looked away. "still do, by the way."

"what?"

"still wanna fuck you, mark."

oh, he wasn't expecting that. what was he supposed to do? or say? maybe he just needs to shut up and stay there quietly and wait before you say something? there was a lot of thoughts in his head, gaze flicking from your face to your boobs. yeah, he was still thinking with his dick.

"wanna make out?"

"what?!"

"are you deaf or something?" you rolled your eyes at him once again, turning your head to look at him and wait for his answer. yeah, you liked mark. he was cute, awkward and oh damn you loved nerds and he was the hot one, obviously you wanted to make out because you were at this party for that at the first place. and you were a little drunk, so why not? "if you won't answer i'll just kiss you.."

"i want to," mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking down at you. "what do i do?"

"oh my god, mark! have you ever kissed a girl in your life?" one of your hands wrapped around his shoulder while other comes to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. you couldn't wait, your mouth quickly covering his, tasting a strong taste of beer on his lips. mark closed his eyes, standing there and letting you do all the work. he didn't even know where to put his hands, honestly. he was afraid you wouldn't like him touching you even though you two were kissing. and he still couldn't remember your name. fuck.

you pulled away, taking a breath before smiling at him. your smile was so pretty, mark could've sworn he almost faint. "you can touch me, i can tell you want to touch my ass."

"are you s-serious?"

"cute." was the only thing you've said when you pulled him for another kiss. the hand on his shoulder slipped down his arm and you brought his hand to your ass, mark's eyes widened and he almost moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly more so you could slide your tongue inside. the wet sound of your messy kiss was making mark's head spin, his other hand moving up to your waist as he pressed his back to the house's wall. the contrast between your hot body, warm lips against his and the coldness against his back was definitely doing something to him.

mark felt kinda bad though. he liked kissing you, liked knowing that you were attracted to him, who wouldn't be happy if they were him? you — pretty girl from his university, hot as fuck as we speak, were attracted to some nerd like him? what a fucking win. he loved touching your ass too, it just felt right. so soft comparing to the rough fabric of your jeans, fits perfectly in his hand. but he still couldn't remember your name. he didn't want to become one of those jerks who's fucking a cute girl without even knowing her name and then leaving. yeah, you two weren't even fucking, but kissing you was nice and he liked that cherry beer flavor on your tongue when you licked his lower lip. so fucking hot.

he couldn't believe a girl like you could possibly like someone like him and that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to let go without remembering who you were. he wanted to take on a date? yeah. date you? maybe. damn, he doesn't even know you, but for him that was literally the last thing that matters right now. your lips were soft, the way your hands run through his hair and pulled them slightly… oh shit. when he felt your lips on his neck, teeth rubbing his gentle skin slightly as you pressed more kisses down his neck, mark was gone. down bad. in that moment he was pretty sure he wanted you all to himself and that right now he was the luckiest man alive.

"what's your name?" he choked out between kisses you shared, eyes still closed and his hand still squeezing your ass. you chuckled, finding his behavior adorable.

"y/n."

taglist: @spacejip @peterm4rker

[sugary-daydreams3]

Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  

“That’s not the same.”  

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   

“Well?” You ask impatiently.  

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  

“Yet?”  

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  

6 weeks later 

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  

“I appreciate it.”  

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   

“You know what I mean.”  

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  

“Babydoll.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Turn around for me.”  

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  

“Yeah, you should.”  

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  

“Oh really?”  

“Yep.”  

“How about you taste this then.”  

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  

“Better than fine dining?”  

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  

“It’s silly?”  

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  

“You know what I mean.”  

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  

“Thank you for sticking with me.”  

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FOUR

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 9.7k notes: mama a MASTERLIST behind you 💜 lots of filler content but it's kinda pivotal ig 😛 hope you're all enjoying, reading all of your comments makes my day 🫶

‘South Carolina Basketball Star Apologizes for Destruction Tour'

After a month of out of control behavior, Tess Kennedy has officially put an end to her destruction tour. In a heartfelt message on her socials, Kennedy apologizes to her team, coaches and staff, and basketball fans and she opens up about how her ACL injury “flipped [her] world upside down.”

“My injury forced me to consider a future where I could not play basketball,” Kennedy writes. “I moved to the States at a young age and basketball was the one thing that made me feel at home here. Believing that I’d lost basketball made me feel like I’d lost the one place I belonged. My thoughts were, ‘if I can’t play, then what’s the point?’”

Many fans responded well to Kennedy’s apology, understanding the guard’s feeling of homelessness. Many others appreciate the candor. One commenter noted that athletes don’t tend to discuss the darker parts of the ACL injury, claiming that this transparency is paramount in making mental health resources more accessible and more normalized for athletes. There are others who are firm in their belief that Kennedy’s reaction was unacceptable. Supporters rallied in defense for Kennedy.

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: USER THOMASBLINKY39: “GOOD ATTEMPT AT SAVING FACE. YOU OVERREACTED AND LET DOWN MANY, ESPECIALLY YOUNG GIRLS WHO LOOK UP TO YOU. TELL YOUR PR MANAGERS TO WRITE A BETTER APOLOGY NEXT TIME.” | USER TESSKENNEDYUPDATES: “IT’S THE SAME WITH YOU PEOPLE, ISN’T IT? A MAN IS ALLOWED TO REACT. A WOMAN CAN ONLY OVERREACT. DON’T PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND WHAT TESS IS GOING THROUGH. ALL YOUR COMMENT DOES IS SHOW THE YOUNG GIRLS YOU PRETEND TO CARE ABOUT THAT THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FEEL AND FALL APART WHEN THEY’RE HURT. TESS SHOWS THEM THAT THEY CAN COME BACK EVEN STRONGER.” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Reactions aside, one thing is for certain. Tess Kennedy is fully on the road to recovery and things are looking up for her.

“I’m connected with great physical therapists to rehab my knee and I am meeting with a psychologist to address my mental health and alcohol dependence,” Kennedy shares. “I am thankful for my friends, family, and support system. They were patient and loved me when I couldn’t love myself. This process hasn’t been pretty and it won’t look pretty for a while – but I owe it to myself to do what I need to so I can play the game I love again. This is a new opportunity to compete, only I’m against myself this time, and the one promise I can make is that I don’t lose to the same opponent twice.”

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 9, 2023

Tess’s alarm wakes her on Tuesday morning. It takes her a moment to blink the sleep out of her eyes, still feeling the residual exhaustion from accidentally staying up later than she’d been accustomed to the past week. It’s only 8am, but she can hear Kamilla and Bree milling about in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast, quietly laughing over the gentle hum of whatever music they have playing. Tess hauls herself out of bed, stretching the ache out of her body and making her way into the bathroom.

Tess was never usually one for sleeping in. It was a hard habit to break after years of being up bright and early to go on morning runs and hit the gym. She fell off of that part in her routine after her surgery, and although she can’t exactly do much running or lifting currently, trying to repair her sleep schedule and other routines helps bring back some normalcy in her life. So far, it was working pretty well, though it’s been a struggle to figure out what to do with her time on the days she doesn’t have PT in the morning.

As she brushes her teeth in the bathroom, she’s distracted by thoughts of the upcoming 12 hour drive she’ll have to power through. It was her only choice – she wasn’t cleared for air travel just yet, so it’s an unfortunate fact of life she’ll just have to deal with. She’s less stoked about the long conversation she’ll have to have with her parents. Between PT and her other obligations, Tess hasn’t really had the time to truly sit down and give her parents the closure they deserved. They’d texted and called numerous times; Tess felt terrible for ignoring most of it, but she just couldn’t stomach their worry and disappointment. She couldn’t stomach her own shortcomings, either, nor the fact that she let it get so bad and that she iced out the people who have been in her corner since day one. The more she thinks about how she ghosted her own parents and let them watch her crash and burn through gossip articles and online videos, the more she feels like she’s going to throw up.

She can’t avoid it forever, though. Not when there’s nothing between her and her parents besides their car’s center console and 715 miles of open road.

Tess rinses her mouth out, splashing water on her face, reaching for her cleanser and moisturizer. When she begins applying her skincare, it’s the first good look she gets of her face all morning. She stares at herself for a long moment. The bags under her eyes are fading and her cheeks finally have their fullness back. She feels okay – she really does, which she thinks is a weird feeling to celebrate, but she’s celebrating it regardless, knowing she’s felt anything but okay in the past month. The one feature, however, that almost brings a smile to her face is the subtle shine in her eyes, the flash of life that has otherwise been missing.

She looks good. She feels good. That much is enough to improve her mood. She ventures out into the kitchen, grinning at Kamilla and Bree who look up with matching smiles as they work. Kamilla is flipping something in a pan at the stove while Bree chops veggies. “Hey, guys. Need a hand?”

Kamilla shakes her head, waving the spatula at her in a way that reminds Tess of her nonna. “Nuh-uh. Sit. You want an omelette?”

Knowing better than to test Kamilla, Tess slides into a stool, careful of her knee. “Yes please.”

Kamilla hums, cracking a few more eggs into a bowl, adding milk, and whisking them together. “We didn’t wake you or anything, right?” Bree asks, dumping some peppers and onions into Kamilla’s bowl. Bree lowers the volume on their music just slightly so she can hear Tess’s response.

“Nah,” she reassures her. “I had an alarm set. My parents should be here around noon.”

Kamilla turns on her heel suddenly. “Oh, speaking of, you got a package like, twenty minutes ago. It’s by the door. What the hell did you buy? It was heavy as shit.”

Tess can’t help the flush that covers her cheeks, though she doesn’t understand why Kamilla’s question makes her feel as though she’s been caught red-handed. “Uh, I might have bought a PS5,” she admits, and Bree snorts. Tess shoots her an indignant look. “My therapist says I need new hobbies. Turns out I had zero personality outside of basketball, so I’m trying to find out what else I like.”

“Besides a certain blonde hooper, of course,” Bree says, straight-faced and deadpan. Kamilla nudges her with her elbow and they both break out into giggles.

Tess narrows her eyes. “You guys aren’t funny. We are literally just friends.”

“Well, you said y’all was strictly business last week, so which is it?” Bree teases. “I saw those photos of y’all at the airport, too. You looked heartbroken –”

“Stop,” Tess whines, burying her face in her hands. “It’s just for the media.”

“Cheer up, T,” Kamilla says comfortingly. Tess looks up to watch as Kamilla dumps the omelette onto a plate, sliding it her way with a fork. “Bree’s just jealous. The football player she’s been plottin’ on for months has a girlfriend back home, so she’s sad.”

Bree gasps, shooting her a scandalized look. “First of all, I wasn’t plotting on Shawn. I was just testing the waters, and the waters say football players are not husband material. Second of all –” Bree redirects her attention to Tess, whose fork hovers halfway to her mouth as she stares at her teammate, “–Tess is the worst actress I’ve ever seen in my life. Remember that time we tried to plan a surprise party for Aliyah and Tess couldn’t stop grinning the entire day?”

“That’s different!” Tess interrupts, the egg falling off of her fork. She groans as she scoops it up again. “I can’t lie to my friends. But I can lie to the media.”

“No the hell you can’t!” Bree retorts. “You can’t control your face. That’s why you trend on Twitter after pressers because half of the country turns you into a meme.”

Tess’s face falls. “Wait, they do that?”

Bree points at her as Kamilla snorts. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Anyways!” She claps her hands, gathering her thoughts. “You can’t control your face. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Which is why I know that look on your face at the airport was real. You aren’t lying to the media – you’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. You fuck with Paige, whether you’ve realized that or not.”

Tess’s face burns red as her thoughts race. “What are you, my therapist? I don’t fuck with Paige, whatever the hell you mean by that.” Bree narrows her eyes at her, and Tess has to look away. “Christ,” Tess mutters, fingers pressing into her temple. “Look, me and Paige are just friends. I’m just a mess emotionally with everything going on and she’s like, the only person I’ve hung out with that’s not you two.”

Kamilla nudges Bree with her elbow, drawing her attention as she breaks her silence. “Maybe we don’t need to grill her on this now,” she suggests, but her tone of voice leads Tess to believe that it’s more of a demand. “She’s going through a lot. Let her friendships just be friendships.” Tess shoots her a grateful look as Bree sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Bree says after a while. “I know you – you’re my girl, Tess. You’re not good at lying, or keeping secrets, or pretending, or doing anything casual. You’re real, maybe blunt to a fault, and you always give everything your all. I just want you to be careful. Blurring those lines with Paige can make things really complicated and you need to focus on recovery – not her.”

Tess frowns, pushing around the egg on her plate. She suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore. The anxiety creeps up into her chest, kickstarting her heart, and she has to breathe through the what-ifs and the slight panic that comes with questioning everything you’ve known for the past week. “I know you mean well, Bree, but I’m good,” Tess states once she gathered her thoughts. She gives her two teammates a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and judging by the way Bree deflates, she knows that she knows she’s soured the mood. “Trust. I’m not going to fall for Paige and I’m not going to blur those lines. We’re just friends who have to make the best of a weird situation because we fucked up our reputations. Nothing more.”

Bree stares at her long and hard, as if she doesn’t believe her. Tess doesn’t believe herself, either, but she has all the time in the world to start convincing herself that she’s just fine with her situation and there’s nothing to read into. “If you’re sure,” is what Bree says instead.

Tess can only give a half-hearted nod, suddenly feeling a lot less sure.

Her parents arrive shortly after noon as expected. She moved all of her packed belongings to the living room, anticipating their arrival, and she’d nearly teleported to the door once she heard the knock. Kamilla and Bree made themselves scarce after their uncomfortable conversation after breakfast. Tess isn’t sure if it’s because they knew that she needed time alone with her parents or because they were regretting bringing up the Paige situation at all. Maybe it was a mix of both, but Tess remembers she has other things to worry about as she opens the door to her apartment, coming face to face with her parents.

Her mother and her father, Alessandra and Mateo, stand just a few inches taller than she does with her father tallest of their trio. When she was younger, she used to hate that she stopped growing at 5’10 when her parents were 6’0 and 6’3 respectively. It used to make her feel small, like she wasn’t meeting her potential. Now, after everything she’s been through, she falls directly into their open arms and it feels like coming home all over again. They wrap her up tightly, engulfing her completely, and she finds that she has a newfound respect for being the shortest of them.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels her tears soak her mother’s blouse and her mother starts smoothing the hair at the crown of her head. The gentle touch is enough for the dam to finally break. Tess shudders through heaving sobs as her parents hold her tighter, whispering pleasantries in murmured Italian that only makes her wish she’d never shut them out. She wishes she asked them to come down for her surgery, that she asked them to take her home after the fact. She wishes she was cognizant enough to have asked for their help before she let everything consume her. It’s too late for ill-timed wishes, although there’s still plenty of time for her to make up for her misgivings.

Her parents let her cry until there’s nothing left, and only then do they pull away. Her mother wipes away the residual tear tracks on her cheeks with her thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as her father stares at her with a look that mirrors both his concern and his love for her. She stares back at him, at her mother, at the two people who have dropped nearly everything to support her and her dreams. They let her have her way when she couldn’t bear to see anyone after her surgery, they let her have her way when she wanted to move several hundred miles down south for basketball because she believed in what Coach Staley was preaching. Tess feels so much remorse and grief and love constrict around her heart and she can’t stop herself when she rushes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I–”

“You have nothing to apologize for, piccola,” her father says, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, but his understanding does nothing to quell the guilt.

“Yes I do,” she chokes out, eyes wide as she stares at the both of them, fresh tears beading at her waterline. “I got hurt and I pushed you guys away and I almost killed myself. I spiraled for a month straight and said awful things and almost ruined my knee for good. People tried so hard to help me and I didn’t let them.”

Her mother squeezes her hand, smiling softly at her. “We are your parents. You do not need to do anything to earn our forgiveness. You have it. Unconditionally.”

Tess’s lip trembles. She tries to fight the tears. “That’s not how that works,” she says weakly. 

“Some things don’t have to work any certain way,” her father says. “Sometimes they just are. We’re proud of you, Tess.”

Growing up, people always said that Tess was a mix of her parents. She had her mother’s coiled, dark brown hair, her laugh, her nose, her sarcasm. She had her father’s eyes, his smile, his heart, his drive. Now, she’s beginning to realize that the trait her parents share – their ability to forgive – hasn’t quite reached her just yet.

“You don’t need forgiveness from other people,” her mother says, halting her racing thoughts. “You just need to forgive yourself, sweet girl. Learn from this, bounce back and recover, but you cannot do any of that if you hold the blame close to your heart.”

“I’m trying,” Tess confesses.

Several thoughts swim in her brain. She hears it all. Trying isn’t enough. Try harder. Why did you let it get this bad in the first place? It takes her far too long to realize the voice is her own. Her parents would never say any of that to her. But what they do say instead is, “Sometimes trying is all you can do,” and that’s enough to make her bottom lip wobble again. She launches herself back into their arms as her father continues, “We know you can heal from this. We know it’s hard. But you need to believe in yourself and try.”

The words get stuck in her throat as she tries to breathe through the pounding in her chest. All she can manage is a nod, but they understand her – they always do. Her parents hold her until she comes back to earth, her mother flashing a familiar smile at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Tess nods again, wiping her cheeks again. “Yeah. Just let me say bye to Kam and Bree first.”

Her parents nod, picking up her suitcase, her backpack, and her Amazon box by the door. They exit her apartment with her belongings in tow as Tess makes her way to Bree’s door first, knocking on it gently and waiting for her to open it.

When Bree does, she opens her arms immediately and Tess falls into her embrace. “Have a safe drive, okay?” Bree says, squeezing her. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Tess promises, pulling away.

“Listen,” Bree says. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t be in your business like that.”

Tess shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know where you’re coming from. Thank you for looking out for me. Just trust that I can look out for myself, too?”

“Done,” she agrees, and she sweeps Tess into one last hug before saying her goodbyes and venturing back into her room.

Kamilla’s room is her final stop. She doesn’t even have to knock before Kamilla opens the door and wraps her arms around Tess. “Don’t miss me too much,” Tess says jokingly, and Kamilla laughs, her chin resting on Tess’s head.

“Too late,” her best friend states. “Come home, Tess Kennedy. The kids miss you.”

Tess grins, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, Kam. I gotta go my own way.”

Kamilla pulls away but smiles fondly at Tess. “Text me when you’re home safe. I don’t care how late it is.”

“I will,” she promises again. Kamilla wraps her up one more time, saying goodbye, and returning to her room.

When Tess makes it back to the living room, her parents are back and empty handed. Tess smiles at them, slipping her crutches under her arms, and together, the three of them begin the 12 hour journey back to Brooklyn.

The first few hours of the drive are dedicated to the much needed conversation with her parents. Tess recaps the last few weeks to her them, explaining her thought process, the loneliness, the near constant knee pain. It’s all smooth sailing until she reaches last week’s events and the meeting with Amaya. She honestly has all intentions of leaving out the Paige situation, not wanting to lie to her parents because she and Paige agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone. If there was one thing Bree was right about, it was the fact that Tess was a shitty liar, and she would prefer to avoid the situation as a whole.

“So what about that blonde guard you’ve been hanging out with?” her dad asks innocently, completely ruining her entire plan.

Fuck. So much for that.

“Um,” she says smartly, a blush rising on her cheeks. Her dad glances up, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror, and his lips twitch into a smirk. “We’re taking things slow right now,” she says slowly. “Paige reached out after I tore my ACL and offered her condolences. I didn’t really want to accept help from anyone, but she flew out and surprised me after my meeting with Amaya, and, I don’t know, but it was really nice.”

“Do you like her?” her mother asks.

“Mamma,” she groans, exasperated. Her mom levels her with a look that makes her insides crumble. She remembers that her and Paige aren’t even publicly official, so what’s the harm in downplaying it? “I mean, she gets it, you know?” She gets me, is the clarification that goes unsaid, but Tess gets the idea that her parents understand her meaning just the same. “We play on different teams. I didn’t, um, want to let her get close,” she says tactfully, feeling as the words hit a little too close to home. “But I couldn’t stop it. I like being her friend and talking to her. That’s good enough for me for now.”

Her parents share a look in the front seat. Tess is sweating bullets in the back, trying desperately to distract herself by flipping her phone mindlessly in her hand. Truth be told, she’s not even sure where the truth ends and the lie begins. This whole situation is so messy, she thinks to herself, only snapping out of her thoughts when her mother speaks up. “Well, you sound happy,” she says, which genuinely surprises Tess. Another thing Bree was right about. She cannot control her expressions. “She may be good for you, piccola.”

Tess swallows thickly, craning her head to stare out the window. The trees on the side of the interstate pass by in a blur. She finds them much more interesting to look at now. “I hope so,” Tess says, the words coming to her easily.

Thankfully, her mother cranks up the AC and adjusts in her seat, aiming to take a power nap before she swaps places with Tess’s father to finish out the drive. Her father glances at her once more through the rear view, a knowing smile on his face, which unsettles Tess more than she’d like to admit, but the underlying softness in his eyes makes it hard to be too worried. Releasing a deep breath, she pulls her own blanket over her legs, pops her earbuds in, and leans against the car door as she closes her eyes, hoping to speed the drive along by sleeping through it. They still had another 10 hours to go, and Tess will be close to losing it if she has to talk about Paige for any longer.

The rest of their drive passes in relative peace. Tess crashes for a few hours and wakes up in time to order dinner from a drive-thru. Her parents switch driving duty an hour later at the closest rest stop and Tess takes the time to get out of the car to stretch her leg and use the bathroom. She stocks up on a couple of overpriced vending machine snacks, and before she knows it, they’re back on the road again.

She tries to nap again, but after the three hour snooze she took, she feels more restless than anything. Combined with being in the car for six hours, she’s ready to start running laps, knee be damned. She’s running out of playlists to listen to and she can only play Subway Surfers for so long before she starts getting exhausted of it. As if she senses her turmoil, a text from Paige comes through, and Tess can almost cry with relief, knowing that the blonde will have something stupid to say that will distract her.

Are you alive?

barely the longer we drive the more i wish i took a plane there’s got to be a donor somewhere out there who can give me their knee

So I don’t think that’s actually how that works!

so i don’t think you’re qualified to say that!

I am The ladies call me Dr. Bueckers Okay that was actually worded really bad

“the ladies” huh

Please don’t make this a thing I regretted it as soon as I sent it

every day i wonder how and why girls throw themselves at you you literally can’t flirt for shit you just annoy people and say the stupidest things so confidently

Well you’re still talking to me I think it works

my choices right now are entertaining you or staring out the window for another six hours

This is progress cause a week ago you would have said you’d prefer to stare out the window Tess Kennedy MIGHT like me 🤩

paige bueckers MIGHT be delusional 🤩

The line between delusion and manifestation is thin but I get what I want so just keep on hating

ok bars ur still delusional though

One day I’ll get you to admit it I’ve grown on you

much like a fungus

You think I’m a fun guy!

[8 Ball]

Don’t deflect

are you chicken?

Okay I see how it is

Tess and Paige probably set the record for the most pool games played in one sitting, which is surprising for two reasons. The first being the fact that Paige apparently had nothing going on for six hours, the second being the fact that Paige actually sat and played pool with Tess for six hours. Tess’s eyes had started drooping around 11:30 pm, but she and Paige were tied in how many wins they had (318 each – they kept track in a shared note), so she kept pushing through, even though her eyes burned and she wanted to crash. When Tess claims victory 319, Paige almost loses it.

You’re actually cheating

how tf am i cheating at 8 ball?

You seem like the type to take a screenshot and use the ruler

i’ll have you know i’m a woman of honor and integrity you’re just ass

You say the nicest things Okay one last round and I need to go to bed You’re almost home right?

we have like 20 more min yeah

Lock in

Tess, in fact, does not lock in. Six hours of pool is probably detrimental to her eyesight, so she cuts her losses and accepts one final draw between her and Paige. 319 each is good enough for her – especially with the time inching closer and closer to midnight and the fact she’ll likely see the pool table in her sleep.

Rematch tomorrow?

i don’t think i can ever play 8 ball again it will be too soon when my therapist said to find a new hobby i don’t think this is what she meant

You’re welcome!

i did not say thank you

You didn’t have to But you’re welcome for spending 6 hours on 8 ball with you

thank you

Oh my God that sounded genuine

and you just killed the moment

We were having a moment? 🤭

ok goodnight don’t text me again

You’ll miss me Lemme know when you’re home for real I’ll stay up

you don’t have to

So notice how that wasn’t the request

fine i'll let you know

Paige simply reacts to her message with a heart, and with a soft smile, Tess shuts her phone off and finally gives it a rest after six hours of non-stop use. Her screen time was probably off the charts, but that’s a problem for another time.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive passes by quickly and before she knows it, her mom is pulling into the driveway of their house. Tess could cry in relief, though whether it’s from lingering homesickness or the need to get out of the car, she doesn’t know. Her mother shakes her father awake and together, the two of them grab Tess’s bags from the back while she slips her crutches under her arms as they make their way into the house.

Tess hardly has the time to soak it all in. The last time she was home was during spring break, but right now, her main concern is hauling her ass to bed and passing out. Her parents carefully deposit her belongings on the floor in her room. Sharing one last hug for the night and exhausted goodnights, her parents leave her be and Tess all but collapses into bed. She adjusts the pillow under her knee, plugs in her phone, and opens her messages with Paige.

i'm home

Paige’s response is near instantaneous. Tess wonders if she was hovering, patiently waiting for her message before she let sleep consume her. Tess doesn’t dwell on it, not liking the way the thought made her chest tighten.

Thank you Night ma 🫶

Tess bids her goodnight, too, and she shuts her phone off, placing it on the bedside table. She stares at the ceiling, wondering why Paige’s message leaves an almost foreign stirring feeling in her stomach. But as her eyes slip shut, she determines she’ll just have to deal with it at another time, and she lets sleep finally take her.

MAY 11, 2023 - JUNE 20, 2023

The next month of Tess’s life passes in a blur of PT, weekly therapy appointments, mentoring from various Liberty members (although that was unplanned for), movie nights with her parents, and truthfully far too much Fortnite with Paige. She had her first PT appointment with Theresa, or Terri as she’d insisted Tess call her, on May 11th. As her appointment was in between the Liberty’s first two preseason matches, Tess saw a lot more of the Liberty players than she was expecting to. Stewie is taller than her Wikipedia led Tess to believe and Betnijah was even prettier in person. They all expressed their condolences as they filtered in and out for last minute screenings and check ups, and Tess couldn’t quite lose her stupefied awe no matter how many pros she talked to. She even got a follow back from Stewie, who joked that she was “alright for a Gamecock.” 

Tess genuinely felt like she won the lottery. She couldn’t believe Sabrina had reached out for her or that it was even this easy in the first place, though she probably has to give more credit to the Liberty front office for granting their permission and monopolizing on the opportunity. So far, it’s been pretty mutualistic — Tess works with Terri, learns from seasoned veterans, cleans up her image a little more, and honestly increases her draft stock through league exposure; in turn, the Liberty monopolizes on Tess’s branding and status as a college athlete, aiding in growing the scene. There’s a lot of viewers out there who tune in solely for college athletics. The Liberty have already reported an increase in traffic on their websites and even some ticket sales, which Tess is honestly surprised by. She still has another year minimum in college; the fact that people are tuning in for her (when she isn’t even in the league yet) and the fact that she’s helping grow the WNBA simply by hanging out with the Liberty and rehabbing her knee is insane. 

That was something Paige had teased her relentlessly about when they both found the time to FaceTime that Friday. Paige’s flight back to Minnesota was delayed a few hours, so she spent most of Thursday at the airport. She and Tess were supposed to chat after she landed, but the blonde went straight to bed once she made it home. 

“With the 1st pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the New York Liberty select—”

“Okay, you’re not funny,” Tess gripes, narrowing her eyes at Paige, who can’t control her laughter from across the screen. Tess is in the middle of setting up her Playstation account, trying — and failing — to remember where most of the buttons are on the controller. Paige already has Fortnite loaded up on her screen and tries her best to help Tess with the logistics, but she keeps getting sidetracked. “The Liberty won’t have first pick for a hot minute. And you’d think they’d take me over Caitlin?”

“Stop talking about other women!” Paige cries. “Am I not enough for you or what?”

“You are so easy to mess with, it’s unreal,” Tess states. She leans in closer to her screen. “What the hell is L1?”

“Top button on the left,” Paige supplies. “The one on the back is the trigger, L2.”

Tess sighs, pressing the button and finishing up some of her customization as she navigates her way to the console store to download Fortnite. “Nerd,” she says under her breath, but the indignant gasp from Paige is the only reaction she needs. “Honestly,” she begins, hesitating slightly. “I might not declare in 2024.”

“What?” Paige blurts. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting ball. An angel just lost its wings.”

“Not like that!” Tess rushes to say. She stares at the download bar as it fills up, not looking at Paige. “I was talking to Sabrina this morning — chill, she is grown and she has a man —” her words do nothing to quell Paige’s dramatic huff, “and she suggested I use my redshirt eligibility and take an extra year. I mean, I’ll be back in time for March Madness and can play a few games with the new redshirting rules, though I’m honestly not feeling confident in returning from an injury, taking on high level play with little to no practice, then declaring for the draft fresh off of recovery. I’m not, like, worried about my ability, but from a purely logistical standpoint, no team would willingly want to draft me in this condition, right? It wouldn’t be safe. I wouldn't be a reliable pick. I feel like it would be good for me to stay, get back into it, and declare when I’m actually at my best.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, and when Tess glances down at her phone, she can see that Paige is deep in thought. When she finally responds, her voice is soft. “I know what you mean. I think you should,” she says. “Stay, I mean. I don’t think I’m declaring in 2024, either.”

Tess smiles knowingly at her. “Oh, you just wanna keep getting dunked on by me, huh?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but grins at her. “You’re 5’10. Only way you’re dunking is if they lower the rims.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You started it!” They dissolve into laughter. Tess’s download finally finishes and she opens Fortnite. “I’m serious, though,” Paige continues thoughtfully. “I’ve missed so many games due to injuries. I want a healthy offseason. A healthy season in general. A natty.”

“I always forget you barely have two seasons worth of games played,” Tess admits. “Your stats are kinda crazy.”

Paige smiles smugly. “Super efficient, I know. Don’t get too jealous.”

Tess scoffs. “Every time I say something nice, I immediately regret it. You can never just say thank you, can you?”

“Thank you, Tess Kennedy, I can’t wait until we play each other in 2025 and I stat pad my 3-point percentages 'cause you can’t guard me,” Paige declares confidently. 

Tess’s jaw falls open. “I’m more likely to go #1 in the draft than you are to score on me,” she states. Paige raises a brow, as if to say really? and Tess rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “Okay, friend me or something. I don’t know how this works.”

“What’s your Playstation name?”

“tkennedy25.”

“Super original,” Paige says dryly, but quickly enough, she gets a friend request from pboogers1. “Don’t ask.” Tess accepts it with a wry smirk, as well as the party invitation. She watches as Paige’s character spawns on her screen, fully decked out. Tess’s character honestly looks like a loser next to hers, though it’s probably because her starting character is a man. “Where’s your drip at?”

“I don’t know,” Tess whines. “Why am I a man?”

“You gotta play more to get skins,” Paige supplies unhelpfully. “Are you ready to spend the next month playing Fortnite?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope! Ready up!”

Tess does just that. Her first few games are frustrating. She’s still getting accustomed to the button layout and the building in the game sucks, but Paige has endless patience (somehow) and Tess finds herself having more and more fun as Paige tries to guide her through it. She spends a fair bit of time begging for Paige to revive her (fall damage is not a fun concept) and even more time yelling that she’s getting shot at. They’re halfway through a match and making their way into the zone when they come across another duo.

“Flank them!”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Tess cries, trying to aim and shoot. Multitasking has never been so difficult.

“I’m at the top of the key,” Paige says. “Go to one of the wings.”

“What do you – ohhhhh.” Tess does as instructed and with both her and Paige firing, the other players are quickly taken down, leaving their loot. “Wait. Why was that actually a good call?”

“There may be hope for you yet, ma,” Paige says, placing a hand over her heart like she’s swooning, and it’s enough to make Tess crack a smile despite the flush on her cheeks.

When they take the win at the end of the round, Tess isn’t sure who’s more surprised – her or Paige. Tess drops her controller on her bed as she cheers – loudly – and Paige buries her head in her hands. If her knee was in better shape, she’s certain she’d be taking victory laps by now.

“I can’t believe you stole my fucking kill,” Paige says in near disbelief. “I did so much damage–”

“Oh, my God!” Tess screams, not processing any of Paige’s words. “We won! Did you see that?” she asks excitedly, barely hearing Paige’s initial response. She digs around in her blankets to locate her phone. When she finally fishes it out, Paige is already gazing at her through the screen, face and smile softening as she takes in Tess’s excitement.

“I did,” Paige confirms. Tess finally keys in on her stupid grin and she feels the flush travel the length of her body.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Paige exclaims, and her grin widens. “Just proud, s’all. You went from not knowin’ where X was to gunning people down.”

“We make a good team,” Tess says nonchalantly, but, fuck, Bree is always right – she can’t keep the dumb expression off her face. Her eyes are bright with elation, with the satisfaction that comes with finally understanding something. Paige’s raw honesty and the simple ‘Just proud’ means something different coming from her, even if her pride stems from Tess sucking just a little less at a video game.

Paige’s smile turns tender, and instead of a witty remark, her voice is soft when she admits, “Yeah, we do,” and it makes the warmth creep onto Tess’s cheeks once more. “Couple more?” she asks hopefully. “I got nothin’ but time.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of their day, learning more and more about each other in between game queues and early game rotations. Tess eventually has to get off to save her eyesight and do some PT, but it’s hard to get rid of her smile even after she shuts off the console and she and Paige hang up. When she ventures out of her room for dinner, Tess tries her best to ignore her parents’ knowing smiles. The look in their eyes explains more than their words ever could, and briefly, as she’s layering salad on her plate, Tess thinks of a future where everything is less complicated, where she and Paige don’t have to put a fake label to something they’re not.

But that thought sounds suspiciously like something Tess isn’t ready to face, so she wipes it from her brain and drizzles the balsamic over her salad.

On Saturday, Paige introduces her to Drew. He’s off school for the weekend and Paige asked if she’d be interested in running trios with him. Tess honestly couldn’t think of a world where she’d say no to that, to learning more about who Paige Bueckers is outside of basketball and being a charming mix of annoying and unbelievably sweet. Looks aside, Tess would have assumed that Paige and Drew were fully blood related the way their mannerisms were exactly the same, all the way down to their sassy, “Alright now,” that never failed to make her laugh. Drew tells her all about how his classes are going and how he’s going to be better than Paige at basketball one day. Tess is pretty sure she and Drew become best friends when she tells him, “I think you’re already better than her,” and Paige gasps so indignantly that she almost chokes.

Tess is an only child, but with the speed at which she and Drew bond, she thinks he might become an honorary brother. She’s so focused on Drew that she misses the look of complete adoration on Paige’s face, the tender curve of her smile. She only registers something is off because Paige is unnaturally quiet – which never happens because Paige has a near inability to shut up. It was something Tess had to convince herself was annoying, but now she knows it’s just another part of who Paige is.

“Lock in, Paigey,” Drew tells her, realizing she’s unfocused, too, and his demand makes Tess erupt in laughter.

“Bro, I am locked in!” she exclaims.

The three of them load into the game and Drew drops a marker in the middle of the map. He looks at Paige with an expression that is menacing in the way only a younger sibling can ever be capable of. “You should pay more attention to the game,” he says innocently, “and less on your girlfriend.”

“Drew!” Paige cries, her face reddening. Tess feels the burn on her cheeks but she can’t stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter. Paige drops her controller long enough to bury her face in her hands in exasperation. Drew’s giggles are infectious, which makes it harder for Tess to get the air back in her lungs. “Bro, do not kill my girlfriend. I will hunt you down, swear.”

Drew sticks his thumb and index fingers up in an L shape, shoving his hand in Paige’s face, who pushes him back dramatically. “You both need to lock in,” Tess gripes, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “You promised me a win, Paigey.”

Paige scoffs, picking her controller back up. Together, the three of them begin their descent, along with dozens of other players, into the most populated location on the map. “Don’t trip, ma. You know I got you.”

Tess hums, unconvinced. Eventually, they do end up taking the win at the end of the match, which results in Drew showboating after he successfully stole the final kill from Paige. Tess giggles as she watches him run a victory lap around their living room over the phone. Paige meets Tess’s eyes, a fond expression on her face, although she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. The blonde isn’t a different person around her brother by any means. She’s still sarcastic, freakishly charming, but there’s an underlying softness in how she speaks to him that reminds Tess of how Paige speaks to her. She’s not soft because Drew is younger or needs coddling, but Tess suspects that Paige just treats him that way because Drew just means that much to her. There’s an immeasurable amount of care in her heart that most people miss simply because Paige likes to tease, but having grown up similarly, Tess is fine-tuned to the way Paige shows her love, fine-tuned to the way it manifests in their own friendship.

For the next month and some change, this is their routine. Tess and Paige spend hours on FaceTime playing Fortnite. Sometimes it’s with Drew, who yaps just as much as Paige does, but as the time goes by, Tess finds that she truly enjoys listening to the both of them go on. They talk about their blended family and their other siblings, Ryan and Lauren. Paige lights up when Tess asks more about them – it’s obvious that she’s an amazing older sister and her siblings clearly adore her. In turn, Tess opens up about her cousins. Her mother had fertility issues and Tess was their miracle baby; her cousins were the closest people she had to siblings, and she wouldn’t change a thing about it. One day, Drew declared that Tess is his sister now, too, and that was enough to shock Paige and make Tess tear up.

Other times, it’s just her and Paige hanging out alone. They talk about any and everything, poking fun at each other over the simplest things, laughing at stupid shit, and stirring the pot online when they share photos of their wins with cringey captions like, “my duo.”

Tess has never verbalized it before, but she knew it was just as true: Paige gets her. The knee, the on-court pressure, their other shared interests. The understanding between her and Kamilla is different from the one between her and Paige. She lacks the ability to define it, and honestly, she’s not sure how important the actual definition is anymore. She’s acutely aware of just how much of her life she’s inadvertently dampened by trying to understand something before experiencing it. The moral is that Paige has quickly become an integral facet in her life. That thought doesn’t scare her as much as it used to.

“Okay, so what do you notice that’s different about me?” Tess asks coyly one day after she props her phone up on her nightstand, taking a few cautious steps backwards. She places her hands on her hips, watching as Paige taps her chin dramatically.

“Wait, you’re not using your crutches anymore!” the blonde exclaims.

“Nope! Officially cleared.” Tess wiggles her leg, a beaming grin on her face. “Still got the brace, though.”

Their friendship progresses over the month and so does Tess’s recovery. Her wins easily become Paige’s wins. Paige celebrates her with just as much enthusiasm as she celebrates wins on the court, all teeth and wide smiles when Tess reports back with crucial developments in therapy or new developments with her knee. Tess is just as invested in Paige’s life as she is in hers; Tess “officially” meets some of her teammates when they’re on live one night and Paige forces her to join. They spend hours together, and judging by all of the screen recordings they’re tagged in the morning after, they clearly did a good job at pretending to be together (although Bree’s factual statement about Tess being unable to lie swims in Tess’s head on repeat).

When they’re not playing Fortnite or fucking around on the other games Paige forces her to try out, they’re building LEGO sets together. They were on FaceTime one night building two different sets: Tess with a tuxedo cat and Paige with a red rose, and the jokes were flowing. When Paige finished her rose, she displayed it proudly with a cheeky smile, holding it up to her phone screen as if she was giving it to Tess. While Tess rolled her eyes, she couldn’t curb her growing fondness for the blonde, and they both seemed to know it.

“What do we think about the white?” Tess asks another day, holding the aforementioned dress over her body, displaying it for Paige, who sits patiently on the other end of the phone.

The blonde raises an unimpressed brow. “Who all’s gonna be there?”

Tess levels her with an unimpressed look of her own, lowering the dress slightly. “P, it’s my cousin’s baby shower. Take a wild guess.”

Paige raises her hands defensively. “All I’m saying is the white looks good as hell on you. I might have to fly out to make sure no one brings a plus one who’s on some funny shit.”

Tess flushes, but rolls her eyes with a pleased expression. “The white’s nice, right? But look at this gold one I have, too.” Tess hangs the white dress back in her closet, returning with the gold one in tow – it has a slightly longer skirt but it’s a little more snug at the top. Paige is quiet for far too long. Tess narrows her eyes at her, stepping closer to the phone to see what’s going on only to realize Paige is just shamelessly checking her out. “Eyes up here, Romeo. White or gold?”

Paige clears her throat. “Can’t you just wear a paper bag or sum’?”

“To my cousin’s baby shower?” Tess deadpans.

Paige stares back at her with a serious expression. “Well, it’s either the paper bag or you figure out how to become ugly. Only one of those is possible.”

“You are no help at all. Let me call Sabrina –”

“Gold,” Paige interrupts quickly. “You don’t need Sabrina. She’s not even six foot.”

“And her height makes her unfit to pick out dresses, because…why?”

“She don’t see the vision like I do,” the blonde says simply, smirking in a self-satisfied way. “The gold? Immaculate.”

“Spell immaculate.”

Paige gasps indignantly. “Alright! It’s like you’ont even want my help. What am I even here for?”

Tess grins mischeviously at her, returning the dress back to the rack in her closet. “Clearly just to stare at me. You have no shame, Paige Bueckers.”

She raises her eyebrows suggestively, her expression appreciative. “Well, I mean–”

“Goodnight, Paige!”

Somewhere in between late night FaceTimes and breaking the Internet one Instagram comment at a time, their friendship seems to shift. It all becomes natural. She wakes up, responds to Paige’s timely Good morning! texts, reposts her stories and comments on her posts. The longer that this goes on, the less that Tess cares about whoever they’re supposed to be pretending for. Her brand deals are trusting her again and the trolls in her comments start disappearing. Her PT and therapy appointments are going well and she starts feeling like herself again. She’s sure she could credit that to Paige’s near constant presence in her life, but she knows the blonde well enough by now – Paige would emphasize that it’s all Tess. For a while, Tess was fearful of letting this get out of hand, but she’s coming to realize now that she doesn’t mind how their friendship has evolved.

But Tess has been around for long enough to realize that the ball drops sooner rather than later. Late at night in early June, Tess gasps awake with debilitating pain in her knee. It was unexpected – she hadn’t felt it like this in quite a while. Her exercises were going well and she was usually cautious to not overwork herself, but perhaps she did a little too much that day and it’s coming back to bite her in the ass. She groans in pain as she pushes herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and blindly reaching for the insulated cup full of ice that she keeps on her nightstand for times like this. Tess digs through her blankets until she finds her phone and turns the flashlight on. She pours some of the ice into a ziplock bag she keeps on hand, zipping it shut tightly and pressing it to her knee. It does little to soothe the pain, but it’s better than nothing, and her breathing becomes a little easier.

It’s only after she takes care of her knee that she finally registers the dryness of her mouth, the thirst for something to numb the pain. She falls back onto her pillows in equal parts frustration and grief – she thought she was past this. She’d made so much progress in therapy and figuring out how to fill her time with new hobbies and activities to distract her. She hadn’t felt an actual craving in a few days, but now, it feels like undoing a month’s worth of work. Tess reaches into the cup and shovels a handful of ice into her mouth. As she chews, it soothes the dryness and the cold is enough to shock her brain, but it’s not enough to regulate her. The pain in her knee combined with the urge to do something she’ll regret makes her feel like she’s drowning again. She could easily satiate it – her parents moved their liquor (not out of distrust, but to keep it out of mind), although she knows where the hiding spots are. She grew up with younger cousins. Knowing how to keep it out of reach was just a matter of responsibility. But now, that responsibility feels uncomfortably like temptation, and it takes everything in her to keep herself rooted to the bed.

Tess reaches for her phone before she even fully processes what she’s doing. She types in her passcode, swipes over to her contacts, and hits call. The phone only rings twice before the line clicks through.

“Tess?” Paige’s voice is quiet, but rough with sleep. Part of Tess feels guilty for waking her up, although the other part of her knows that Paige would have been upset if she didn’t call.

“Hey,” Tess says softly, unconsciously relaxing.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” Paige sounds a little more awake now, shifting around on her bed, and Tess exhales. She hates how much better she does feel just from hearing her voice. Her knee still aches but her brain clears. It’s like coming back up for air after diving.

“I’m sorry for waking you–”

“Don’t,” Paige says firmly, interrupting her. “What's wrong, ma?”

Tess smiles, forgetting Paige can’t see her. “I woke up and I was in so much pain,” she admits in a near whisper, listening to the sound of Paige’s breathing. “Felt like I was tearing my ACL all over again. And then the cravings came back. I was doing so well, like I was improving, but… I’m frustrated and exhausted and my knee hurts so bad, and, I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Her confession rings out in the silence of her room. She tries to ignore the way her voice cracks, but her honesty makes the weight on her shoulders feel a little lighter.

“You know you can call me whenever,” Paige says after a while, her voice soft. “I’ll answer.”

“I know.”

“You are improving,” she continues, trying to find the words. “This isn’t a set back, ma, just part of recovery. It’s never gonna be linear. Some nights are gonna be harder than others. But that doesn’t mean you’re going backwards. It just means you gotta fight a little harder.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Tess admits. “I just want to be okay again.”

“You will be,” Paige says confidently, endlessly patient. “Tess Kennedy doesn’t lose to the same opponent twice, right?”

Tess chuckles. “That was kind of a bar.” Paige hums in agreement. “Thank you for picking up.”

Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat, like the idea that she wouldn’t pick up is preposterous. “Always, Tess, you know I got you.” Tess can’t stop the slow smile from spreading across her face. “You want me to stay?”

Tess opens her mouth, hesitating, but reminds herself to be honest. “Can you? Please?”

Paige hums again, her voice sounding sleepy, and Tess relaxes as Paige begins to ramble. “Lauren and Ryan are comin’ up this week. We’re just gonna hang, do a big dinner and shit. I wish they lived closer, but I mean, I’m in Storrs most of the year and they’re getting older so they’ll be goin’ off to college, too. I just really miss them a lot. I think you’d like them. Maybe you can fly up for the holidays and I can introduce you. My parents ask about you. They might like you more than they like me, which is insane…like these past 21 years didn’t mean anything to them.”

“Poor baby,” Tess teases in a soft murmur. She hears Paige snort.

“Are you free, um, fuck – on the holidays?” Tess listens to Paige shuffle around, a smile growing on her lips. “Do you celebrate?”

“Thanksgiving, no; Christmas, yes,” Tess responds. “My parents and I usually just watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and order a pizza.”

“Lemme fly you out for Thanksgiving? Meet my family?”

Tess hardly has to give it a second thought. “Sounds perfect to me,” she says. “You wanna fly out here after Christmas? New Year’s in New York?”

“Whatever you want,” Paige replies. “You’ll have to give me that insider Kennedy knowledge. How do I get your parents to like me?”

Tess laughs, feeling her eyes droop. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust. My mom thinks you’re good for me. And my dad thinks you’re the worst kept secret in the history of Tess Kennedy’s worst kept secrets.”

“Yeah?” Paige huffs out a quiet laugh. “And what does Tess Kennedy think? Am I good for her?”

Tess struggles to stifle her growing smile as she answers coyly. “What do you think?”

She can almost visualize Paige’s grin. “I make you smile. I think ‘m doing somethin’ right.”

And for that, Tess truly has no rebuttal, embracing the warmth that creeps up her cheeks. Paige keeps speaking and Tess tries her best to stay awake to listen, but the timbre of Paige’s voice reverberates throughout her room and lulls her to sleep. It makes her forget about the ache in her knee and the chaos in her mind. Paige’s soft laugh as she recounts her first dunk is the last thing Tess hears before she succumbs to a blessedly peaceful slumber.

[starlovesganyu]

Love your writing style, its so comfy to read (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Can I humbly request [characters] perfect date for whoever you want to do.

From: 🦎

their perfect date!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

what their perfect date is!

thanks for the ask!

various characters x gn!reader

characters: keqing, hu tao, clorinde, jean, ei, yae miko, furina, bronya, black swan, feixiao, march 7th, qingque, silver wolf

warnings: none

not proofread

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

keqing -`✮´-

• window shopping is her favorite way to spend time with you!

• she wouldn't be able to contain her excitement as you walk through the streets of liyue together, looking at all the different goods displayed in shop windows

• enjoys explaining the significance behind many of the artifacts, or how different types of clothing are manufactured

• but, if gently intertwine your fingers with hers, she'll shut up real quick

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hu tao -`✮´-

• would definitely enjoy bringing you to a haunted house of some sort

• obviously she wouldn't get scared, but enjoys watching you jump at every little movement and sound

• would also scare you herself, then giggle at your reaction

• should you hide behind or grab hold of her out of fear or for protection, her heart will flutter a little <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

clorinde -`✮´-

• for her, playing through a tabletop troupe script with you would be her ideal date

• she loves to immerse herself in the story and characters, and whenever she roleplays with you, she finds it much more enjoyable!

• she'll secretly pick a script that has her saving you from monsters, or even one that ends with the two of you kissing (//ω//)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

jean -`✮´-

• a midday picnic away from the hustle and bustle of mondstat and the knights is perfect!

• you would bring your favorite dishes, she would bring hers, and you two would spend time sharing food and stories

• spending time away from her responsibilities and expectations also helps her relax and decompress

• her heart will melt if you lean on her shoulder or lay your head down in her lap

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ei -`✮´-

• in her mind, simply walking around inazuma with you is perfect

• having been stuck in the plane of euthymia for so long, many of the sights and goods are still novel to her, and she enjoys listening to you explain all the new things she’s seeing and experiencing

• but, you should be prepared to stop at every shop or stand that sells sweets

• wouldn’t try and feed her any sweets though, she’s still the archon and has an image to uphold

she’ll gladly do it in private

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

yae miko -`✮´-

• she would prefer to start the night off with a nice dinner

• wouldn't have to be anything extremely fancy, the only requirement being the establishment must serve fried tofu

• after the meal, simply lazing around at home with you would be a perfect way to end the night

• she would enjoy reading light novels with you in her lap, but her hands would be constantly roaming around your body, making it very difficult for you to focus on your book

"dear, is the novel not to your liking? you've been on the same page for ten minutes now..."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

furina -`✮´-

• would love to go watch some sort of stage play or musical with you

• she wouldn't care what genre the performance actually is, she just wants to spend time with you!

• unless it's horror-if it is, she'll have a death grip on your hand the entire way through

• the following days, or even weeks, she's not entering any dark rooms by herself, has you check in the closet and under the bed before sleep, summons all the salon members to keep watch, and clings to you like her life depends on it while she's trying to sleep

• if it's not horror, she would be constantly glancing over at you to "gauge your reactions at different scenes" (you're just too beautiful, and she couldn't resist the urge to look at you)

• would also enjoy acting out some of her favorite scenes to you in private!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

bronya -`✮´-

• similar to jean, anything that lets her take a break from her responsibilities and expectations would already be perfect

• that being said, she would really enjoy going clothes shopping with you!

• besides taking her mind off work, it's allows her to admire you under the pretense of making sure the clothes fit on you

• she'd blush every time you tell her she looks good in something

• would suck at helping you decide what to pick because you just look good in everything!

• wants to hold your hand, but sadly she's got an image to uphold-don't worry though, she'll make up for it by giving you a quick kiss in a changing room!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

black swan -`✮´-

• 100% a romantic candlelit dinner type of woman

• loves to listen to you talk about your most recent or favorite memories!

• she'd also want to show you some of her favorite memories of the two of you, or even maybe some of her favorites from her own life

• would definitely make you relive some of your embarrassing moments, for example, when she caught you red-handed trying on her clothes and posing in front of a mirror

• afterwards, taking a calm night stroll hand in hand would be a perfect way to close the night

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

feixiao -`✮´-

• would love to have you accompany her for a morning run and workout!

• when she runs, it usually allows her clear her mind and think over important issues with a fresh mind, but since you're present she can only think about you

• don't worry! if you get tired or don't want to run, she'd be more than happy to just take a morning stroll!

she'd also be willing to carry you

• would love if you'd join her lifting weights, but wouldn't ever make you do anything you don't want to do

• very obvious that she's trying harder than ever now that you're watching to try and impress you <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

march 7th -`✮´-

• shopping.

• spending a whole day going store to store looking for cute things with you would be a dream come true

• she'd have you try on many different outfits, and may even have you pose for her camera!

• would also suck at helping you choose an outfit, you just look too cute in everything!

• by the end of the day, her camera roll is filled with pictures of you and her, and she'll immortalize her favorites on her wall

• if you were to buy her a stuffed animal of any kind, she'd treasure it, naming it ruler over all her other stuffed animals, and would also hold it when she's missing you </3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

qingque -`✮´-

• she'd love to just slack off and play celestial jade with you!

• she wouldn't care if you brought along your friends, as long as they were fine losing to her

• but, if was were to be down to you and her, she'd discreetly make a bad play to let you win because your smile never fails to make her heart skip a beat!

• grabbing takeout and walking around aurum alley would be a cherry on top for her, but you should be prepared to have a lot of your food stolen by her

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

silver wolf -`✮´-

• would want to just laze around and play video games with you

• she's very skilled at basically every game, so she could help you beat bosses you were struggling on or boost you a couple matches in competitive

• could also spawn you in credits or other valuable in game resources if you wanted-just don't ask how

• if you decide you want to play against her, she'll promptly sit herself down in your lap just to distract you (not like she needs the advantage, she just likes to watch you slowly get flustered)

• also uses you as like a good luck charm for her gacha game pulls

a/n: thanks for reading!

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 2 - Bruises | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.6k

Trent slumped down next to Noah, running a hand over his hair, his thoughts all over the place. It had been hard enough leaving you upstairs, seeing you so vulnerable, so close. Noah nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Mate, seriously—what is the deal with you two?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s putty in your hands, and you’re practically breathing down her neck. Thought you’d snap eventually but you just keep dragging it out.” Trent let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the couch. 

“I don’t even know, mate. I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around her lately, it feels impossible to just… be her friend.” He shook his head. “But Jack would kill me, you know that.” Noah burst into laughter, shaking his head. 

“Trenty, it’s been years of this. You’re acting like this tension is new! This is, hands down, the longest and most intense case of foreplay I’ve ever seen. Even Jack’s gotta know by now.” Noah smirked. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty grin breaking through. 

“Yeah, but it’s different now. She’s… she’s not just Jack’s sister anymore. It’s like she’s looking at me the same way I look at her.”  He groaned and then he let out a shaky breath, feeling exposed for the first time. “And tonight—I feel like she’s slipping, no? Just hard to leave her room after all that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Noah leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “Mateeee.” Trent groaned once more for good measure. 

“Bro, you gotta sort this. You can’t go on like this forever.” He clapped Trent on the shoulder. Trent chuckled, a little embarrassed but unable to deny how much he wanted you. 

“I know. But I’m just trying to play it smart, you know? I don’t want to hurt her but Jack’s my boy.” Noah raised an eyebrow, laughing harder. 

“Play it smart? Just try not to trip over yourself sneaking back upstairs.” He teased. With one last laugh, Trent let himself sink into his thoughts of you, wondering how much longer he could hold himself back.

Another night of drinking to forget came. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest method, but it was maybe the most fun. The club was packed, pulsing with the beat of the music and the energy of people letting loose on a Saturday night. You had dragged Layla along with you to have a fun night out, a chance to unwind and forget about all the stress from the past week. You were in good spirits, laughing and dancing with Layla, letting the music take over. But everything shifted when you spotted him—your sort of ex, a footballer for Manchester United, Josh. If playing for that club wasn’t enough of a reason for you to hate him, he also was just an awful person.  He was standing by the bar, surrounded by his friends, looking as arrogant as ever. You tried to ignore him, but it was clear he had seen you too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pushed through the crowd, heading straight for you.

“YN!” he called out over the music, a mocking tone in his voice. “Long time no see.” You forced a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene but you knew this was being done to be rude.

 “Hey,” you replied shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and move on. But he didn’t.

“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” he jeered, leaning in closer than necessary. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the malice in his eyes.

“I’m just here to have a good time with Layla,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. “I’d rather not—” But he cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. You were always such a good girl, Y/N. Too good for the likes of me, right? Or maybe you’re just playing hard to get?” He sang in an obnoxious tone. You’d ‘split’ because you didn’t like each other enough. It was sex and that was about it. Josh particularly didn’t like that no matter what, you’d never look at him the way you looked at Trent and so he blamed the split on you. Despite him ending it, it was your wrong doing apparently.  

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, yeah? Fuck off.” Layla stepped in, sensing the tension. He sneered at Layla before turning his attention back to you. 

“What’s the matter, YN? Still pining after Alexander-Arnold? Aye just get it through that pretty little head, he’s never going to want you.” The words stung, sharper than you expected. You rolled your eyes and he didn’t take kindly to that. Even though you didn’t care for him anymore, his cruelness cut deep. Tears welled up in your eyes despite yourself.  Josh had never been the kind to hold back, not even in public. You had seen glimpses of his temper before, but tonight, it felt different—meaner, more deliberate. His words were mocking as his fingers gripped your arm with a force that made your skin sting, and as he leaned in closer, his words grew more venomous.  "What, are you going to cry now?" he spat, tightening his hold on you. His grip was firm, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to bruise. You winced, trying to twist free, but he only tightened his grip, his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you close to him, he was angry in a possessive way. You could feel the bruise forming under his touch, a dark mark that would remind you of this night long after it was over. You hated how he could make you feel so small, how he could strip away every ounce of confidence with just a few words and a harsh grip.

“Please just stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. You tried to yank your arm away again, but he only pulled you closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He pulled you away from everyone so it was just the two of you. You felt a wave of shame, not just for the scene he was causing but for yourself—for letting him do this to you, for putting up with it, for not having the strength to push him away once and for all. Layla didn’t know what to do. So often you had said it was fine with him but right now it felt anything but.  You didn’t know why you even put up with him, why you had let him into your life at all. He had always been like this—aggressive, dominating, possessive,always needing to control every situation, even when you were out in public. It was as if he thrived on belittling you, on reminding you of every perceived flaw, every mistake you’d made.  He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“You’ll be nothing without me, know that?” he hissed, his grip tightening painfully. You flinched, the pain radiating up your arm. “You’ll always be nothing.” The tears blurred your vision, and you hated yourself for letting him see you cry. You hated how he still had this power over you, how he could reduce you to this—a sobbing, broken mess in the middle of a crowded club. You hated how he could strip you of your dignity with just a few cruel words and a tight grip on your arm. Somewhere in the haze of your thoughts, you found the strength to pull away. You jerked your arm back with a sudden burst of energy, managing to break free from his grasp. You stumbled back, cradling your bruised arm against your chest, the sting of the fresh bruise radiating through your skin. You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears, your chest heaving with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration.

“I’m done. We’re done” you choked out, the words barely more than a whisper. “I get it. Just let it go, okay?” You whimpered. He just laughed, a dark, hollow sound that sent a chill down your spine. 

“You’ll be back, babe” he called after you as you tried to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You always come back.”  You hated that you had gone back to him before, that you had let yourself get tangled up in his web of anger and possessiveness. The sex had been good—at least, that's what you told yourself. But he had cheated on you more times than you could count, though you were never really sure if it counted as cheating. Your relationship had always been undefined, a messy entanglement of emotions and misunderstandings. He was hypocritical, a storm ready to explode any time he saw you so much as smile at another man. And yet, there you were, always caught in the crossfire of his jealousy and rage. It didn’t matter what he did, his whole goal was to just have complete control over you and Trent threw a wrench in that. He especially hated Trent. It wasn't just because they played for rival clubs, though that was part of it. It was deeper than football. He saw the way your eyes lingered on Trent, the way your face softened when you spoke his name. He knew there was something there, a connection that went beyond friendly banter or casual attraction. Trent was everything he was not—calm, kind, successful in a way that made others admire rather than fear him. And you—God, he could see it—your feelings for Trent were written all over your face, in the way you laughed at his jokes, in the way you always seemed to find yourself at his side. He resented Trent for being everything he wasn’t and for being the object of your affections. You ootd to keep Josh’s behavior hidden from your brother, somehow managing to mask how fucked up it all was. Jack didn't know how deep your ex’s temper ran or how controlling he could be. But if he knew.. If Jack knew or even his friends knew but probably especially Trent knew… all hell would break loose.  So you’d learned how to swallow back the stories, pretending that everything was fine. 

“Can you just leave me alone,” you managed to say, your voice breaking. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” He leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Does your brother know you slut yourself out for his best friend? What’s your dad think of that... Being a whore for the boys your brother trusts most… and your mum.. Oh well.. You wouldn’t know what she thinks of her slutty little daughter.” That was the last straw. You hated that you even trusted him enough that he had that bit of information about your life. You felt the tears spill over, and you turned and bolted, pushing your way through the crowd. You needed to get away, to breathe, to clear your head. Your heart was pounding, and your vision blurred with tears. You stumbled trying to get to the back hallway of the club, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Layla had seen enough. 

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed rushing over but when she turned to try to follow after you, you were lost in the crowds. Unbeknownst to you, Trent had been at the club too, celebrating with a few of his teammates. He had seen you running, and had noticed the distress on your face. Without a second thought, he followed you, his concern outweighing any questions about why you were there or what had happened. The flashing lights of the club blurred around you, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to spin faster with each passing second. The pounding bass reverberated through your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. You felt dizzy, your thoughts swirling like the flickering neon signs above. The laughter and shouts of the crowd melted into a distant, muddled hum as your vision began to swim. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and unchecked, as you stumbled through the throngs of people. The room felt like it was closing in on you, walls shrinking as the faces around you became distorted, like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one catching in your throat as you fought the rising tide of panic.

You could barely think straight, your mind a haze of confusion and pain. Everything felt wrong—your body, the people around you, the pounding music that seemed to pulse through your veins. You wanted to escape, to find a place where you could breathe again, but everywhere you turned, there were people, faces, eyes. It was too much, all of it pressing down on you, squeezing your chest until you thought you might break. Your legs felt heavy, your steps unsteady as if the ground were shifting beneath your feet. You pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for space, for anything but this suffocating chaos. Your tears blurred your vision, and you wiped at her eyes, her hand trembling. Then, through the haze, you felt it—strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. At first, you panicked, thinking it was someone else, another stranger trying to touch you, but then you caught a familiar scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely comforting.

Trent.

Your body sagged with relief, your knees nearly buckling beneath you as you collapsed against his chest. His arms were solid and warm, encircling you like a protective barrier against the chaos of the club. You felt his hand on the back of your head, gently cradling you as he whispered soothing words you could barely hear over the music. Then for the first time, Trent saw a bruise forming on your arm. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes darkening with anger as he took in the sight of you, your arm marked with the telltale signs of aggression. 

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping back before reaching out to gently lift your arm, his touch featherlight but steady. He turned it over, revealing the bruises that had already started to bloom in shades of purple and blue. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened just enough for you to feel his rage simmering beneath the surface. "Who did this to you?" You tried to pull away, tried to hide the evidence of your shame and pain, but Trent wouldn't let go. It was so obvious it came from someone grubbing you too tight, being too rough in a way no one wanted. His hand held yours firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin as if he could erase the marks with a touch. 

"Please," you muttered, your voice breaking, "stop." you weakly begged.

"Y/N…" he insisted, his voice low and steady, but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't going to let this go. "Who…" He snapped demandingly. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Trent's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in you attempting to tell him what just happened but he couldn’t focus on anything but how sad you looked, how broken. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as if to shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything that had ever hurt you. In that moment, you felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. His arms were your refuge, his strength your solace. Trent's blood boiled with a fury he rarely felt, his hands shaking with the need to do something—anything—to make Josh, who he knew it had to have been, pay for what he'd done. But then he saw your tear-streaked face, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back sobs, and all that rage took a back seat. His anger didn't matter right now; you mattered. Your body shuddered with each sob, and Trent felt a pang of helplessness in his chest. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright, that he'd take care of everything. He wanted to promise that no one would ever hurt you again. But he knew that words wouldn’t be enough, not now. So, he just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise, anchoring you to the present. You buried your face against his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping you from drowning. The tears kept coming, but they were different now—less frantic, more a release of all the tension you had been holding onto. Trent’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on. The world around you seemed to fade, the thumping bass and flashing lights dimming in comparison to the steady, comforting rhythm of Trent’s heartbeat against your ear. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, calming the storm that raged inside you. In his arms, you felt a safety you hadn’t known she needed—a reassurance that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

“Just breathe for me,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and close to your ear. “I’m here. You’re safe.” You tried to do as he said, taking a shaky breath that caught in your throat. But with him holding you, the air seemed easier to draw in, the panic slowly ebbing away. The tears continued to fall, but now they were softer, quieter, as if his presence was slowly soothing the hurt you felt. For a moment, there was only you—no noise, no crowd, no chaos. Just the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his embrace. Trent held you tightly, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. You stood in there struggling to catch your breath as Trent's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, grounding you in a way that felt comforting and electric all at once. He tightened his hold, his chin resting on the top of your head, and his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. But even as he tried to comfort you, a battle still raged inside him. Part of him wanted to go find Josh right then and there, to make him pay for every single bruise on your skin, every tear he'd caused. The other part of him—the rational part—knew he needed to stay with you, to keep you safe and calm. And then there was the question he couldn't push away: Should he tell Jack?  Jack was his best friend, but Jack was also your brother. He deserved to know that his sister had been hurt, but Trent also knew how fiercely protective Jack was of you. If he told Jack, there’d be no holding him back, and things could spiral out of control. Plus, he wasn't sure if you'd want Jack to know—if you'd want your brother to see you in this vulnerable state.

"I got you," he whispered as his thoughts spiraled, his voice filled with a tenderness you hadn't felt in a long time. "I got you, okay?" You felt something break in that moment-a wall you'd kept up around yourself for so long. And when his lips brushed the top of your head in a soft kiss, something stirred inside you, a longing that had been quietly simmering for years. It felt like an opening. Your heart raced as you pulled back slightly, your gaze finding his, and in the dim light, his eyes softened, a silent understanding passing between you. You hesitated, but then, almost instinctively, you tilted up, pressing your lips to his. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question in every touch of your lips against his. Trent tensed, caught off guard, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this so instead, his hands found your waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as he kissed you back, the warmth of his mouth melting away the hurt that had clung to you since your ex's cruel words. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together, like a fuse that had finally been lit. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, years of unspoken attraction finally bubbling over. His hands roamed, his grip on you tightening as he leaned into you, pushing you up against the cool brick wall behind you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt like it was meant to be, like you'd waited your whole life for this moment. God, he wanted this… but not like this. This was wrong. So then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with wide eyes, his expression torn between disbelief and something deeper. 

"What...Y/N… what are we doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his fingers still lingering on your skin. The conflict in his eyes was clear, and it sent a pang through your chest. But you didn't care about the doubts racing through his mind. You leaned in again, refusing to let go of this feeling. To remind him how very right this wrong was. The kiss was softer this time, gentler, but just as consuming. You poured everything into it—all the years of longing, the quiet, unspoken feelings, the ache you'd felt every time you saw him with someone else. And for a moment, he gave in, his lips moving against yours like he'd been holding back for years. You could feel him wanting more but then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away once more, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. "Y/ N... we can't. I can't," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry. I just..." He muttered. The rejection cut deeper than you expected, the pain raw and immediate. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you took a shaLay step back, your heart pounding with a mix of heartbreak and anger.  

"Fuck you!" you cried, your voice trembling. It felt like the walls you'd let down were crashing back up, each one harder than before. You turned on your heel, ready to escape before he saw you fall apart completely. But he reached out, his hand grazing your arm, as if he couldn't quite let you go. You recoiled, stepping back, your expression a mix of pain and anger. 

"Wait," he pleaded softly, but you yanked your arm from his grasp, your heart shattering as you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind with the lingering taste of regret on his lips. Trent’s heart ached seeing the tears well up in your eyes again.  You turned and ran, pushing your way back through the crowd, your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t care where you were going; you just needed to get away from him, from the humiliation and the heartbreak. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you fled, but you didn’t look back. Trent watched you go, his heart sinking into his stomach. He wanted to run after you, to explain, to somehow make it right, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He knew you needed space, needed time to cool off. But as he stood there, the guilt and worry gnawed at him. He had never wanted to hurt you, but in trying to protect you, he feared he had done exactly that. The sounds of the club grew louder around him, but Trent felt miles away, lost in his thoughts. He knew he’d have to find a way to make this right with you, to explain himself, and to make sure you knew how much he cared. But for now, all he could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, your absence leaving a painful ache in his chest. Trent leaned back against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Some of his teammates who he was out with came over. They were giving him confused looks, clearly curious about the scene they had just witnessed. From their perspective, he had chased after to a a teary-eyed girl, who then kissed him like her life depended on it, and then, just as quickly, pulled away with a broken ‘fuck you.’ They had questions.

“Mate, what was that about?” one of them asked, laughing awkwardly, unsure how to react to the tension still lingering in the air.

“Bro, was that…” Another piled on cautiously, recognizing you. Trent ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the flood of emotions. He glanced toward the crowd, desperately scanning for you, but you’d disappeared into the sea of people. His chest tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of what just happened settle in. He couldn’t explain it, not to them, not in a way that made any sense. 

“Yeah, was Jack’s sister.” He muttered after he took a deep breath, eyes still flicking toward the direction you’d gone. The second those words left his mouth, Trent knew something had shifted inside him. It wasn’t a lie, not really, but it felt bigger than that. It felt like a realization he’d been avoiding for too long. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You were his everything. And the truth of that hit him like a freight train, leaving him standing there, breathless and rattled.

“Fuck, mate. That’s complicated.”  One of his teammates whistled, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Trent breathed out, his mind racing. It was beyond complicated. Jack was his best friend, and you… you were the girl who had been slowly slipping from childhood crush to something deeper, something dangerous. He shook his head, his thoughts swirling. The way you’d kissed him tonight, the hurt in your eyes, the fire in the way you’d pulled away—it was like everything had boiled over, and Trent had been too slow to catch up. He’d rejected you, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted you too much. He couldn’t handle the idea of hurting Jack, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But now, standing there with his teammates still glancing at him for answers, he realized that line had already been blurred for a while. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You hadn’t been for a long time. And now, Trent wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise. As the music pulsed around him, Trent felt a shift. He needed to find you, needed to figure out what came next, no matter how messy it got. Because, after tonight, he knew he couldn’t go back to seeing you as just Jack’s little sister. You were more than that. You always had been. 

After leaving Trent behind, you had stumbled back into the chaos of the dance floor, your heart pounding and your emotions a tangled mess. You had felt rejected and humiliated, and in a haze of frustration and alcohol, you made a poor decision. You spotted a man at the bar—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing you all night. Without much thought, you walked up to him and struck up a conversation. His flirty smile and eager compliments were a welcome distraction from the pain you felt. When he suggested you leave together far sooner than appropriate, you didn’t hesitate. You just wanted to forget, to numb the ache in your chest caused by Trent's rejection. You told Layla you felt sick and had needed to leave. She knew it was a farce but she also knew she couldn't stop you. She assumed it was just Josh being an ass she had no idea you had just kissed Trent. She called and called to find you; to leave with you but you just texted saying it was all fine. But as the night unfolded and you found yourself in the stranger's bed, you quickly realized how hollow it all felt. The sex was awkward and unfulfilling, a stark contrast to the passion you had imagined when you thought of Trent. You found yourself comparing the man to Trent in every way—his touch, his movements, the way he spoke to you. Every comparison only made you miss Trent more. You knew deep down that Trent would have been different—gentler or maybe rougher but definitely more attentive, more real. Tears stung your eyes as you lay there, regretting your impulsive decision. This was a low. By the time morning came, you left the stranger's place without a word, feeling emptier than before. You hadn’t heard from Trent since that night. Part of you was relieved, thinking it was better this way—less complicated. But another part of you ached for him, for his presence, for the safety you felt in his arms. 

You’d stumbled in through your front door just after dawn, your steps heavy and uneven, your head pounding with every movement. Jack was already up, a coffee mug in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin. 

“Rough night?” he joked, his eyes barely glancing up from his phone. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a soft hum, barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine. Your shoulders slumped as you shuffled over to the fridge, your body moving on autopilot. The sting of tears was still fresh in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall again, not in front of him. Jack finally looked up from his phone, his grin fading when he saw the look on your face. He straightened up, setting his mug down on the counter, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more serious.  You just hummed again, the sound weak and empty. You didn’t have the energy to explain, didn’t want to get into it with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you closely, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his gaze. Jack took a step closer, his concern growing. “You sure?” he pressed gently, sensing something was wrong. “You don’t look so good.” You just shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest aching with the effort of holding everything in. You needed to get out of there, away from his questions and his worry. You couldn’t deal with it, not now.

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a lie, and you knew he could see right through it, but you didn’t care. You needed to be alone, to let yourself fall apart without an audience. Jack watched you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, but he didn’t push any further. He just nodded, letting you go. He knew you knew he was there if you needed him. 

 “Alright,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But if you need anything...” You nodded, not waiting for him to finish. You turned and headed upstairs, your steps heavy and slow. As soon as you reached your room, you closed the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.  The weight of the night before crashed down on you, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through your chest. The shame, the regret, the confusion—it was all too much. You’d thought you could handle it, thought you could keep it together, but now, alone in your room, it all felt too heavy to bear. You cried until there were no tears left, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. And when you finally stopped, when the tears finally ran dry, you were left with nothing but the hollow ache in your chest and the haunting memory of Trent’s rejection.

You were absolutely mortified. You had kissed Trent. How could you have done something so reckless? You laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling on Layla’s bed at her place, your mind racing in sheer panic. Every nerve in your body felt on edge, replaying that moment over and over. What was worse was that it never happened before, not even close, but something had come over you—like instinct taking over reason—and now you regretted it. Layla shifted beside you, sensing your turmoil. 

“Come on, it won’t that bad,” she said in an attempt to soften the blow. You groaned, rolling onto your side to face her. 

“No, Lays. I can never, ever see him again.” The words came out in a rush, your voice cracking under the weight of your embarrassment. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. 

“That’s not true.” She told you. You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, your breath shaking. 

“It is! I crossed the line. And he… rejected me.” The last part was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud made the sting of it even worse. You felt your face grow hot, the emotions swelling until they spilled over. The rejection was unbearable, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” you said, your voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle. Layla immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close. 

“No, it’s not just tiredness,” she murmured into your hair, holding you tightly. “This sucks. The boy you like just said no. That’s a lot to handle, but we move.” You stayed in her embrace, taking in her warmth, but her words only made your heart ache more.

“I’m not even sure if I just like him,” you admitted, voice small and hollow as you pulled away slightly to look at her. Layla’s face twisted in confusion. 

“What?” she asked, blinking, and then a knowing look crossed her face as she softened. “Oh no. Babe…” You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears. 

“I mean, I do… but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not just like.” The weight of the word hung in the air between you both, unspoken but understood.

“You love him,” Layla said quietly with a frown she couldn’t control, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But maybe right now, the feeling of love is for your friend.” She paused, her eyes full of sympathy. “You don’t need to hurt yourself imagining anything more, okay? Not right now.” You bit your lip and nodded, the tears still threatening to spill over. You were exhausted, heartbroken, confused.  You knew you loved Trent as Jack's best friend, as a friend of your own but you had never had an intimate relationship to say you loved him any deeper than that. The thought of those feelings right now though were making you sick.

“But what if I can’t face him? What if it’s too awkward?” Layla shook her head and gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’ll bounce back. Trent’s nice. He’s not going to make fun of you for this or make it weird. You two have been friends for too long for that.” But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sting of rejection. Maybe Layla was right—Trent wouldn’t make fun of you, but things weren’t the same anymore. Not after this.

When Jack invited Trent along with all the other boys over for a movie night a few days later, Trent was hesitant. He knew you might be home, and he wasn’t sure how you’d feel seeing him. But Jack was his best friend, and Trent figured maybe it was time to face the music. As Trent walked up to Jack’s front door, his nerves were on edge. He took a deep breath and knocked, his mind racing with what he might say if you were there. The door swung open, and Jack greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a quick hug.

“All good, mate?” Jack said, stepping aside to let Trent in. But Trent only hummed. He managed a smile, following Jack inside. He glanced around the living room, half-expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the room was empty. “Y/N’s out,” Jack said casually, noticing Trent’s quick survey of the room. “I think she’s been a bit off lately. Haven’t seen much of her.” Trent nodded, trying to hide his relief that you weren’t home but sadness Jack noticed things were off.. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. Jack grabbed a bottle of water and handed one to Trent.

“She seemed pretty fucked up when she came back from a night out but didn’t tell me much, though.” Trent took a long sip of his water, not sure how to respond.  Jack and Trent were sitting in silence on their phones only best friends could sit in whilst waiting in the kitchen for the other boys to show up. Trent kept glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the moment you would come home. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to somehow make things right. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of you, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The sound of a key turning in the front door caught Trent’s attention. He tensed, his heart quickening as he heard the door open and close. A few seconds later, you appeared strutting through the house, your face mildly flushed from the summer heat outside. You froze when you saw Trent sitting there, your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice tight.

“Hey,” Trent replied, his eyes locked on you.  Jack, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Y/N. Weird vibe but erm.. Lads are watching Shawshank tonight. Want to join?” He asked, trying to lessen whatever awkwardness just flooded the room. You shook your head, avoiding Trent’s gaze. 

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head to my room.” Jack looked between the two of you, frowning slightly. 

“You sure? You haven’t been out here much lately.” He cooed gently. 

“I’m sure,” you smiled sympathetically at your older brother. You appreciated him caring but this was far from something he could help with. You turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word. Trent watched you go, the weight of your unfinished business hanging heavy in the air. He knew he needed to talk to you, to explain himself, but he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen. For now, all he could do was sit and wait, hoping for a chance to make things right.

You had spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t get Trent out of your mind. Trent, on the other hand, was torn between worry and respect for your space. He had tried to find you that night at the club, but it was like you had vanished into thin air. He didn’t want to push you, especially after how things had ended between you. Still, the thought of your hurt and alone gnawed at him. Trent thought about that kiss everyday and how much withstraint he was having to practice. He wanted to rip your clothes off, he had to stop his hands' magnetic pull to grab your ass. It was a typical movie night—Jack had all the boys over for another film. They’d yell through the whole thing and gossip in a way they’d claim only girls did. You knew the drill by now, but tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen Trent since that moment, the kiss that had turned everything upside down. You tried to ignore how awkward things were between you and trent but you were dying of thirst and you weren’t sure if dying of embarrassment of dehydration would be worse, You settled on dehydration so you moved quickly through the house, attempting to avoid where all the boys were, but Trent wasn’t going to let it go. He heard you try to sneak into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” he called out quietly, coming into the room behind you and taking a few steps toward you. You froze, your back to him, the tension thick in the air. You could hear Jack in the cinema complaining about something, completely oblivious you’d hoped. You weren’t ready for this, not now, not when your emotions were so raw.

“Please, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said firmly, your voice low, trying to keep the emotion out of it.

“Y/N, come on… just give me a minute,” he persisted, his voice filled with a quiet plea.You whipped around, eyes already welling up. 

“Trent, I really don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, trying to hold your composure. “Frankly, I’m having a hard time even just seeing you right now, so please,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. You could feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill. His face softened, but he didn’t move.

“I just want to talk. Please,” he said, sounding desperate now, like he was grasping at straws. But you couldn’t do this. Not here. Not with Jack just a few rooms away. You shook your head, blinking back tears, but one escaped anyway. 

“I don’t want to talk,” you choked out, your voice shaLay, as the tears began to build along your lash line. Trent stood there, helpless. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do, caught between wanting to comfort you and knowing that he couldn’t—not here, not now. You could see the frustration and guilt etched on his face, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. But you just shook your head again and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, stuck in the mess that neither of you had any idea how to clean up. And the worst part was, Jack was still there—completely unaware of the storm brewing between you two, his heart left open to wounded arguably as much as yours if you couldn’t sort this.

Trent thought about that drunk, tearful kiss at the club every single day. It replayed in his mind over and over, the taste of it, the way your lips had trembled against his, the way your hands had gripped onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you. He hadn't even expected it—had been caught off guard by how much he wanted it too. But then, the reality had hit him hard. The restraint he had to practice afterward felt like torture. It felt like trying to fight a g force the way his hands moved on your body. He wanted to rip your clothes off that night, to give in to the magnetic pull that constantly drew him to you. But he couldn't. Not like that. Not when you were drunk and emotional. Not when it could ruin everything. Now, the moment haunted him, and he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing what to do next. What if you regretted it? What if that kiss had meant something completely different to you than it did to him? And what scared him the most-what kept him up at night-was the realization that he didn't just want the kiss. He wanted more than that. He wanted you in a way that wasn't just about desire or physical attraction. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who you leaned on, who you could trust with all the messy bits of life. But what if he'd already blown his chance? What if that kiss had been the beginning of the end rather than the start of something more? 

This tension carried on for days. Neither you or Trent making any further attempts at sorting it. Trent sat at a restaurant with Jack and Noah one night, completely lost in his own thoughts. His fork hovered above his plate, food untouched, as he stared blankly at the table. Jack, noticing how quiet he’d been, shot Noah a look. They’d been trying to get him to open up all night, but nothing was working.

“Mate, seriously, what’s going on?” Jack finally asked, setting down his drink. “You’ve barely said two words.”

“Yeah, you’ve been in your own head all night. Go on.” Noah chimed in. Trent talked nonstop all the time so this was very out of character and it’d been going on for over a week. Trent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure if this was something he should even bring up, especially not with Jack sitting right there. But the weight of what happened between him and you had been pressing down on him for days, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He ran a hand over his hair, debating how to word it without setting off alarm bells.

“Have you ever…” he began slowly, his voice low, “turned down a girl and then immediately regretted it?” He sheepishly asked his eyes, flicking to both boys trying to gauge their responses. 

“Nah, mate. If I turn her down, it’s for a reason.” Noah, always the confident one, scoffed.

“Yeah, once or twice. Why?” But Jack, ever the romantic, leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. Trent’s eyes flickered between them, his stomach churning as he chose his next words carefully. He had to be vague, had to make sure Jack wouldn’t catch on.

“There’s this girl…” he started. He hesitated, feeling the weight of his own words. “She kissed me, but she was drunk, so I pushed her away. Now she’s pissed, and she won’t talk to me.” Trent hesitantly explained. Trent wasn’t normally shy talking about women so this whole thing was very confusing for his friends.

“So why did you turn her down if you’re this worked up about it?” Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Because she was drunk!” Trent said, frustration lacing his voice. He looked down at the table, unable to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to be like that.” Jack shrugged, clearly puzzled. 

“That’s more than valid, mate. If she was drunk, you did the right thing. Why wouldn’t she understand that?” Trent groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t explain the real reason behind his frustration without giving too much away. The truth was, he didn’t want just a drunken kiss. He wanted more than that—something real, something that wasn’t just swept under the rug as a mistake.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. Noah, always the one to push for action, smirked.

 “Next time you see her, just go for it. Easy.” He looked at Trent like he had solved his issue no problem. Trent couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of Noah’s solution. If only it were that easy. He wasn’t just dealing with any girl—this was you, Jack’s sister. It wasn’t something he could just ‘go for’ without thinking about the consequences. Jack, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward with a more serious expression. 

“Mate, just talk to her. Tell her you actually care about her and that you want it to be something she remembers, not something that happened when she was drunk. Simple as.” Trent’s heart sank. Jack had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what he wanted to say to you, but how could he? How could he tell you that he cared about you—really cared about you—when Jack was right there, completely unaware of the storm brewing between the two of you? He tried to keep his expression neutral as Jack gave advice, but guilt gnawed at him. He was about to take his best mate’s advice and use it to get closer to his little sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and it made his stomach twist. But he couldn’t keep running from the situation. He had to talk to you, had to tell you how he felt before it drove him insane. Noah, oblivious to the deeper layers of the situation, laughed and gave Trent a light punch on the arm. 

“Yeah, man. What’s the worst that could happen? You talk, she listens, and you two figure it out, I imagine she’s leng.. Get her in bed. Done.” Noah quipped and Trent’s guilt worsened. He forced a chuckle, but his mind was already elsewhere. What was the worst that could happen? Jack could find out. He could lose his best friend. You could reject him, or worse—tell him that kiss was nothing more than a drunken mistake. The thought made his chest tighten. But Noah’s lightheartedness didn’t calm Trent’s nerves. Jack’s advice, however, echoed in his mind—talk to her, tell her how you feel. Trent knew it was the right move, but the fear of rejection, of ruining everything, loomed over him like a dark cloud. As they finished dinner and paid the bill, Trent’s thoughts were already on what was coming next. He was heading to your house after this. You’d be there. Jack would be there. And somehow, amidst it all, he had to figure out how to have that conversation. As they walked to the cars, Jack patted Trent on the back. 

“You’ll be alright, mate. Just don’t overthink it.” Trent forced a smile, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling inside him. Jack’s words rang in his ears, and he knew he had to take the advice, but how? As Trent drove to your house, the weight of everything pressed down on him. He was about to walk into a house where everything could change in a matter of minutes. He wanted more than a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment—but what if you didn’t? What if that kiss had meant nothing to you? You only said you didn’t want to see him… were you just mad. He couldn’t tell.  Pulling into the driveway, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He had to talk to you. He had to try, even if it scared him to death

Trent awkwardly made his way into the living room, his heart pounding as he spotted you already seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. You looked adorable and it made him sadder. You were curled up in the corner, your eyes glued to the TV, but he could tell from the stiffness in your posture that you were aware of his presence. The soft glow from the screen cast a flickering light over your face, highlighting the tension in your jaw and the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should sit down. But with a deep breath, he took a seat next to you, careful to leave a respectful gap between you. The silence between you was thick, almost tangible, and he could feel the awkwardness settling over you like a heavy blanket. 

“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. You barely acknowledged him, giving a short nod without looking away from the TV. 

“Hey,” you replied curtly, your tone clipped. Trent’s heart sank a little at your cold reception. Never in his life had you greeted him like this and it was starting to eat at him but he couldn’t blame you. He knew he’d hurt you that night, and he was ready to face the consequences. He could imagine what he would feel like if you said no to him. Still, the distance between you now felt like a chasm, one he was desperate to cross. He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the show, but he was acutely aware of every small movement you made—the way you shifted slightly, the soft sound of your breath, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Minutes passed in silence, the tension between you unyielding. Trent’s mind raced with what he could say or do to make things right. He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep, but he also didn’t want to let this moment slip away without trying. Finally, gathering his courage, he reached out and gently placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee. It was a tentative touch, his fingers light and hesitant, but it was enough to make you stiffen slightly under his hand. You glanced down at his hand, then up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to upset you that night.” He cooed gently. Your gaze remained on his hand for a moment longer before you sighed, your shoulders relaxing a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… trying to kiss you. I was drunk and— Clearly that’s not something you want and I get that…” You earnestly and awkwardly were trying to apologize but Trent couldn’t help but chuckle softly, interrupting you. 

“You honestly think I didn’t want to kiss you back?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He kept his eyes on the TV, a coy smile tugging at his lips.  “Trust me, Y/N, it took everything in me to stop.” You looked at him, a flicker of confusion mixed with curiosity in your eyes. 

“Then why did you?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. Trent’s smile faded slightly as he turned to meet your gaze. 

“Because you were upset and not in a good place. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, especially after what that asshole did to you.” You flinched at the mention of Josh, the hurt from his cruel words still fresh in your mind. You looked away, your eyes downcast. 

“He… he said some awful things. It wasn’t great,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s grip on you tightened just a fraction, his touch becoming more reassuring. You sat there, your heart pounding as Trent's words hung in the air. He'd never spoken to you like that-direct, unfiltered, like he'd been holding back for too long. The way he placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact, sent a spark straight through you. Your mind raced to keep up, to make sense of what was happening, but he was already pushing forward, his tone low, serious, like he needed you to understand.

"That kid's a fucking idiot for losing you," he said, his voice tight, almost angry. "Saying whatever he could to make you feel small... he doesn't know shit about you, and you know that. Right?" You nodded slowly, words caught in your throat. It was true-you did know, somewhere deep down. But hearing it from Trent felt different, grounding, and it made the sting of your ex's words fade, bit by bit. Trent's hand stayed warm on your thigh, a quiet promise in the small gesture. You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his expression, the way his brow furrowed slightly with concern. 

“You really think that?” You asked quietly, your voice tinged with disbelief. Trent nodded, a small, earnest smile playing on his lips. 

“I know that. You’re smart, occasionally  funny,” he teased with a glint in his eyes and your lips curled,  “you’re the sweetest girl I know, and—” he hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly, “—gorgeous. You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone who can’t see that is a fucking donut.” He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to play it cool, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone else happened to come into the room but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He risked a quick glance at you and saw a soft smile slowly spreading across your face. The sight of it made his own heart lighten, the tension between you beginning to ease.

"Trent.." you started, wanting to say something, anything, but he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of intensity in his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he interrupted, each word sounding heavier than the last. It was like he'd been carrying them around, waiting for the right moment to let them out. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of nerves and thrill rushing through you as his gaze stayed locked on yours. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so it’d be impossible for anyone else to hear, his hand firm on your thigh. "And just so you know... that's not the way you get bruises. Never again. I'll fucking kill him if he ever comes near you." His eyes were dark, protective in a way that felt both comforting and incredibly dangerous. Then, in the midst of the tension, he smirked, the intensity softening into something else, something teasing. "The only bruises you ever get are from not being bored in the bedroom. Yeah?” Your breath caught, your face flushing as his words registered. You recalled telling when you split with Josh citing boredom in the bedroom as a problem but you were surprised he remembered that. Surprised he just said that to you. Before you could respond, he gave you a wink, that same smirk lingering as he stood up and walked away, leaving you stunned, heart racing, and desperate for him to come back.

You laid in your bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Trent. You could hear the low rumble of laughter drifting up from downstairs where Jack, Trent, and their friends were still hanging out. But your thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of Trent and all the moments you’d shared over the years. You closed your eyes and let the images flood your mind. The way he’d smile at you from across a room, a mischievous glint in his eyes, or the way he always seemed to find a reason to touch you—a hand on your shoulder, a playful nudge, his arm brushing against yours when they sat close. You thought about all the times he’d said sweet things to you, little compliments and comments that you’d always brushed off as friendly banter. You tried your entire life not to take the pet name ‘pretty girl’ too seriously, you always thought maybe he said that to every girl but now it felt personal and just for you. Was he talking about bruises in the bedroom in a sexual way, yeah 100% but did he mean that he would give them to you? Leave love bites on you? Your mind was racing.  But, lying there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it. Your heart fluttered as you recalled the feel of his hand on your leg earlier tonight, the warmth of his touch and the firm yet gentle way he’d reassured you. You shivered, a pleasant tingle running through you as you thought of all the times his hands had been on you, even in the most innocent of ways. His touch always left a lingering warmth, a sensation that seemed to seep under your skin and settle deep within you, leaving you longing for more. You bit your lip, a wave of desire washing over you. In your longing haze, you wondered if maybe you’d been missing something all along. Had Trent been flirting with you all these years, in his subtle, teasing way but in all seriousness, did he want something? Was there something real to your relationship that you hadn’t let yourself see? Was it more than teasing? The thought sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Your fingers itched to reach for your phone, and before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed it from your bedside table. You couldn’t shake what he said to you, Trent had made it clear-it wasn't that he wasn't interested. Now, you were ready to take the risk, fully aware that all the boys were together. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but that only made it more exhilarating. They were watching a movie in the cinema room, the lights dimmed, everyone absorbed in whatever action scene was playing on the screen. You were upstairs in bed, restless and buzzing with anticipation. You flipped your phone camera to 0.5 to catch yourself at a high angle, tits prominently displayed in your thin bralette, the flash making your nipples obviously visible. You typed out a message, your fingers moving faster than your brain could catch up.

"Is this the appropriate place to get those bruises you were talking about?"

You pressed send, heart pounding in your chest. The silence afterward was deafening as you waited for a response. It was insane you just did this, but you couldn't back out now. A part of you wished you could retract it but there it was… ‘read.’ Trent opened the message, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked, unsure if he'd seen it right, unsure if you had actually sent it. This was the first time you'd ever texted him directly. Sure, you'd always been in the group chats-always flirty in your usual playful way-but nothing like this. The last personal message you'd sent was your order for a takeaway months ago, and before that, it had been something for your birthday and then passport details for a trip that seemed forever ago. A trip you weren’t sure why you were invited on to begin with but it was one where you'd teetered on the edge of something more with him but never quite tipped over. Now you had pushed things over that fragile edge with a stupid text. There was a reason for the limited texts though, because you knew it’d lead to something just like this. Trent swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the image, the words beneath it repeating in his head. He couldn't let the boys see this but he also didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t… but he had to.

Quickly, he swiped out of the message, his phone burning hot in his hand. He shoved the phone into his lap, screen down, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the visual of you barely in that bralette. He felt a slow, stupid grin spread across his face despite his best efforts. His heart was racing, and he could feel the tension building inside him. He knew things were spiraling. He'd always told himself this was a line he couldn't cross, but now? Now, it felt inevitable. Trent moved, his thumb hovered over his phone. He dimmed the screen, adjusted his seat in the chair, trying to play it cool making sure the other boys were none the wiser. His mind was racing, wondering if this was you really finally putting your hat in the ring. And god, if it was... there was no way he could say no. Now, all that was left was his response. Trent took his time responding, trying to be as calculated as possible. You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for his response. The dots appeared then disappeared only to reappear, showing he was typing back, and your heart leaped into your throat. What was he going to say? Had you gone too far? You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a hint of fear. But underneath it all was a simmering excitement you couldn’t deny. You could practically feel the tension building in the air around you. Finally, your phone buzzed with a new message, and you hesitated before opening it, your pulse racing…

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 3 - Crossed A Few Lines xx

[joelmillerisapunk]

candy hearts

Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3k

↳ summary: In the post-apocalyptic world, you and Joel find solace in each other's arms. As you explore an abandoned building, a stray acoustic guitar becomes the catalyst for a passionate night of music and intimacy.

~or~

You find the perfect Valentine's gift for Joel

↳ warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, this is during the outbreak

↳ notes: Happy Valentine's. Will you be mine? 🥹 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

As you and Joel make your way through another abandoned building, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. It's Valentine's Day, and you're grateful to have Joel's company and a roof currently over your head in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of the outbreak.

“See If you can find a good spot to set up for the night, I'll make sure the rest of the house is clear.” As Joel starts rummaging through cupboards and drawers, he comes across a stash of old candy hearts tucked away in a corner. "Hey, look at this," he says, picking up the candy and showing it to you. "It's those dumb candy hearts. Must be from before the outbreak."

You walk up to Joel and take a candy, reading the red printed message on it: "U R CUTE." You can't help but smile and chuckle at the simple, heartfelt sentiment.

Joel picks out a candy heart with a message that catches his eye: "Be Mine." He holds it out to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, will ya?," he says, his voice flirty.

You take the candy heart and look at the hard to read text, "Be Mine, huh?" you say, trying to sound coy. "Well, I don't know, Miller. What's in it for me?"

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What do you want?" he asks, his voice low and playful.

You give Joel a flirtatious smile and say, "Well, for starters, how about you try to find some blankets for our bed? Wouldn't want to catch a cold on Valentine's Day."

Joel's grin widens, and he nods. "I think I can manage that," he says, his voice full of promise.

As you head upstairs, you continue to playfully banter. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you share my body heat," you say, winking over your shoulder.

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'll do my best to earn that privilege," he replies, a playful glint in his eyes.

As you reach the top floor, you start scouting for a good spot to set up camp for the night. You come across a large, open room with a few pieces of furniture scattered around, and you immediately feel drawn to it.

"This looks perfect," you say, setting down your bag and starting to unpack your things. As you're setting up your makeshift bed, you notice something in the corner of the room that catches your eye.

It's an old, worn acoustic guitar.

Your heart skips a beat as you make your way towards it, feeling like you've struck gold. You run your fingers gently over the strings, plucking them softly to test their sound. To your surprise, they don't sound bad, but they could sound better. You quickly remember the spare strings you salvaged a few months back from a broken guitar body and pulled them from your bag, excited to replace the strings and surprise Joel.

But just as you start removing the strings, the job proves harder than usual. Taking the strings off is easy, but you aren't paying attention to where they come out from on the guitar as you pull the original ones out. As you continue, you hear Joel's footsteps on the stairs. You turn around just in time to see him enter the room, a stack of blankets in his arms.

"That doesn't look like a bed," he says, his eyes scanning the room.

You grin, feeling a rush of excitement. "No, it's not," you say, pulling out the new strings that you've been saving for months. "But I found something even better."

Joel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he takes in the strings in his calloused hands. "Where did you find these?" he asks, his voice full of curiosity.

"I found them a few months ago," you say, holding up one of the strings. "I was just waiting for the perfect guitar to come along."

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "And you think that there is the perfect guitar?" he asks, looking at the old acoustic guitar with a skeptical eye.

You nod, feeling a sense of determination. "I do," you say, starting to replace the strings.

He starts watching you with amusement as you try to figure out the first string. “Need help darlin’?”

You look up at him pausing, “No, you already ruined the whole surprise part. I'm not letting you ruin this for me too."

Joel grins, shaking his head in amazement and chukles. "You're kinda sneaky, huh?"

You giggle. "Maybe a little," you wink at him.

As you work, Joel sits down next to you, watching with interest and amusement. “You sure you don't need help? Can I just show you how to do one at least?”

You roll your eyes, trying to act like you've got it all under control, but you can't help but feel a little embarrassed. "Fine, fine," you say, handing the guitar over to Joel.

Joel takes the guitar from you, a smug look on his face. "Alright, let's see what we've got here," he says, examining the guitar closely.

Before you know it he's swapped out more than a couple, “Hey, you said you were gonna show me one not fix the entire thing.”

Joel smiles and then begins showing you how to properly replace a string. You watch carefully, trying to commit his movements to memory.

"Alright, last one you try," he says, handing the guitar back to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of determination. You carefully thread the string through then wrap it around the peg, pulling it tight. You turn the peg, watching as the string tightens and the pitch rises.

Joel's eyes twinkle with excitement as he watches you replace the last string. "Not bad at all," he says, impressed with your progress. "You might just have a talent for this."

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Well, I've been saving these strings for the perfect guitar," you say, running your fingers gently over the now-tightened strings.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "I think you've found the perfect one, alright, darlin"

"I hope so," you say, giving him a playful smile.

Joel grins back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, let's see if we can get a tune out of it, shall we?" he says, grabbing the guitar and testing the strings.

You pick up the blanket and pillows from your bag, laying them out on the makeshift bed. "You make yourself comfortable while I finish setting up this bed," you say, glancing back at Joel as he tunes the guitar.

Inspecting the guitar, Joel's fingers find the right chords, and the room fills with the sweet sound of a well-played tune. "Well, I'll be damned. It sounds almost new, whatcha think darlin’ how does that sound?" he calls out to you, his voice rich with the melody.

You can't help but be mesmerized. "Sounds amazing," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Joel smiles, a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. "I've sure missed playin this thing," he says, strumming the guitar once more.

"Would you teach me how to play that?" you ask.

Joel's eyes light up, and he nods enthusiastically. "Of course, darlin'," he says, setting the guitar down and offering it to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Joel sits you down on his lap, guiding your hands as you place them on the strings.

"Now, first things first," he says, adjusting your fingers on the frets. "You've got to get the grip just right."

You nod, focusing intently on Joels hands, mostly how good they feel on top of yours, so large, so rough. "Got it," you say, feeling the strings beneath your fingertips.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "That's it baby, just like that," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Now, let's try a chord."

You follow his instructions, strumming the strings as he showed you. "Wow, that's actually not as hard as I thought," you say, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "See, you're a natural," he says, winking at you. As you continue to practice playing the guitar, Joel's hands rest on your hips, his breath warm against your neck as he watches you play. The room is filled with the sweet sound of music, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

Finally, Joel sets the guitar aside and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "I think that's enough practice for now," he says. “Come on to bed now, baby.”

The two of you settle into the makeshift bed, pulling the blankets up around you as you snuggle close to one another. "Hey, darlin'," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'm feeling a little cold. Mind if I snuggle up to you?”

"I'm cold too," you say, your voice low and seductive. "Maybe we can help each other warm up.”

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think that can be arranged," he says, pulling you closer to him.

As you snuggle up to one another, your bodies pressed close together, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, warming your skin and making you feel safe and protected in his arms. You take a moment to breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely Joel, that you've come to associate with him and the comfort he brings. Your hands begin to wander over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. You can feel the rough texture of his calluses, evidence of the physical work he's done to survive in this new world, and it only adds to his appeal.

You trace your fingers over the lines of his abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. You move your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the strength in his arms, the way they encircle you, holding you close. Your fingers graze over the rough stubble on his jaw, feeling the way it scrapes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the way they part slightly, welcoming you in. Your hands continue to explore his body, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his heartbeat quickens beneath your touch.

Joel responds to your kiss, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressed against you, and it only serves to heighten your desire for him. Joel's hands wander your body, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He teases your nipples, causing you to gasp with pleasure.

You break the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Joel," you moan, your voice full of need.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Yes, darlin'?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you," you say, your voice low and seductive.

Joel's eyes darken with desire. "I want you too, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need.

He lifts your shirt and bra over your head, tossing it aside as his lips find yours once more. He teases your nipples with his tongue, causing you to moan with pleasure.

You run your hands over his chest again, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Joel's hands wander down your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressing against you, causing you to moan with need. He trails his lips down your body, kissing and licking at your skin as he goes. He reaches your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs. You help kick your pants aside, your body now bare before him. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of you.

He stands up, removing his pants and boxers in one swift motion. You take in the sight of him, his body muscular, his erection long, thick, and hard. Joel crawls back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, his own full of desire.

"You sure, darlin'?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You nod, your eyes locked on his. "I want you, Joel. I need you."

Joel's eyes darken with desire as he looks into your eyes. "You've got me, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he positions himself at your entrance. He teases you with the tip of his erection, causing you to moan with need. Finally, he thrusts inside of you, filling you completely. You cry out with pleasure, your body adjusting to the massive intrusion.

Joel sets a slow, steady pace, his hips moving in a slow, circular motion. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you, taking exactly what you need. You feel the tension building between you, the pleasure mounting higher and higher like a rollercoaster about to reach the very top of the track. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips moving faster and faster.

As the tension continues to build, you can feel yourself getting closer to coming apart. Each thrust of his hips sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you breathless and trembling. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest as his hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your soft, supple skin.

"Oh god, Joel," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close. Please don't stop."

Joel's response is a low growl, his body tensing as he drives deeper into you. His thrusts become more erratic, his movements more urgent as he races towards his own climax. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, the veins standing out as he pumps his hips faster and faster.

"Fuck, m'gonna come," he gasps, his breath hot against your ear. "You ready for me, baby?"

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. "Please Joel, need your come deep inside me."

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his cock twitching as he empties himself deep inside you. You can feel the warmth of his seed spreading through your body, triggering your own release as you cry out his name. Your orgasm rolls through you in waves, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath. Joel collapses on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies come down from the high. Joel reaches over into the pile of candy hearts and pulls out a new one. He looks at it for a moment, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Think this one sums up tonight perfectly," he says, holding it out for you to read.

You take the candy from him and read the message aloud, "Heavenly Match."

Your heart flutters, and you can't help but smile. "Couldn't agree more cowboy," you say, leaning in to press a kiss to Joel's lips.

Joel grins, his eyes shining with affection and love. "Forever yours, darlin'," he says, his voice low and husky.

You smile back at him, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness that you've never felt before. "Forever yours," you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bask in the afterglow of your love. As you lie there in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your love, you realize that amidst the chaos of the world around you, you've found a sanctuary in each other. The abandoned building may be filled with shadows and uncertainty, but in this moment, there's nothing but the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a gentle light on your intertwined bodies.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to Joel, feeling his steady heartbeat against your chest. In his embrace, you find solace, strength, and a sense of belonging that you never thought possible in this harsh new world.

As you drift off to sleep, the sweet melody of the guitar still echoing in your mind, you know that no matter what tomorrow may bring, you'll face it together, hand in hand, hearts intertwined, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.

[thoughtsonkm]

Mimi-san & Kookoo-san

This photo really fulfills my need for aesthetic shots

This episode (and probably the whole trip) is like the biggest, warmest, lingering hug someone could give you. Not letting go for a long time, until after it's over you're left with a full heart, teary eyes and a sense of unprecedented calmness.

~

So no Tokyo for us (as expected). That city really is theirs and theirs ONLY. (I read that ppl saw them with a camera in that ramen shop in Tokyo, so now everyone's thinking of a possible GCF #2 but that would be INSANE)

~

Jimin stop ruining the romantic moments JK creates, challenge failed! (he really does live up to the "conceal, don't feel" idea)

~

This ritual of Jimin singing Kook's new singles on each trip, is very very cute.

~

THE BABIEST OF THEM ALL another bean here⬆️

Did they lowkey have a gentle monster sponsorship? Way to go Jikook 👏🏻👏🏻

I know it's always been Jimin's go to brand for glasses so it feels kinda full circle. He should be some kind of brand ambassador for them.

Oh hello mister 'I can eat yo fingers but not yo potato peel' (I get it tho)

This is the single softest Jikook moment ever!! Period. End of discussion.

Sharing earphones, romantic music, beautiful scenery, calm setting, head on shoulder. - Who says romance is dead? 😭

Not even the background animation can ruin this for me. (ingenious idea nonetheless)

I CANNOT deal with the sweetness of this daughter talk. DO THEY KNOW WE'RE INSANE??

My guy starts talking about a family. The other guy he's gripping tight is already discombobulated, gulping, eyes going left and right lol

Jokes aside he really would be the most gentle, bestest, most caring dad ever 😭 (I promised myself to not get emo during this episode, I'm saving the waterworks for the inevitable last ep.)

~

I do remember they (especially Jimin) used to be pretty fluent in japanese so I'm guessing since they haven't done Japan promo since 2021, they forgot a little bit..

~

Imagine Jimin in a jazz bar with a 10 year old whiskey in hand, flirting with his bf.. Improv kings!

Happiness looks so good on them.

~

I love that from time to time they almost forgot they had a show to shoot. A DAMN JOB to do 😂

~

I present you a compilation of Jungkook saying how happy he is, how much he loves it and how good it is, during this episode.

~

LOL at them doing the english meme thing. Just two simple guys with ONE BRAINCELL. Looks like one of those random af videos they would watch while learning english.

~

Oh yes, we do indeed enjoy y'all gradually getting raggedy and fat 😂😂 He's hilarious, he's on a roll ladies and gents.

Jungkook half wishing they were the same age so they could "twin" even more (I'm sure that would be so convenient for you Jk 👀) as if it's possible for them to be even more on the same wavelength than they already are.

I do feel like in the distant future it would be such a good option for them to transfer and live in Japan cause it does seem like their favourite place in the whole world and the one place they feel themselves the most.

Sapporo in their 40es would be like a little hidden paradise for them to be somewhat free..

(let me dream)

[lilacmingi]

CRUELLA DE VIL (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Cruella!San x boutique owner!fem reader (ft business partner!Hongjoong)

Word count: 6,745

Note: Okay this one might be my fave out of the whole series!! So many people loved it on Wattpad and I personally am really proud of this one to this day!!

The new window display looked incredible. You had stayed after closing the previous night to put it up in hopes that it would attract some new customers. Not just that, but you wanted to show off the jacket you worked so hard to reform.

You went in to make a few minor adjustments before opening for the day. As you were straightening up the outfit on the mannequin, your coworker and business partner, Hongjoong, walked in adjusting his beret.

Today's ensemble consisted of a white t-shirt with safety pins all over it, thick, black suspenders clipped onto a pair of black pants with a partial red, plaid pleated skirt attached to it—he's always dressing in the most wonderfully unique outfits.

"Morning." You greeted, stepping out of the window display. "You're looking fashionable, as usual."

"Thank you." He grinned, doing a little spin so you could see a full 360 view of the outfit. "I'm experimenting with something different."

"You mean the skirt attached to the pants?"

"Yeah. I think it looks cool, don't you?"

"Yes! I love it. We might be able to sell something like that, hm?" You grinned, raising a brow.

"If the people want it, I'll be more than happy to make more." He said. "Oh, here's your coffee, by the way."

"Ah." You placed your hand on your chest. "You're a doll. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded, heading to the back.

Seconds later, music started playing through the speakers in the store, your lips curling into a pleased smile.

You and Hongjoong shared a similar music taste and you'd both curated the perfect playlist for the store. It's a mix of alternative rock, indie, and a touch of classic rock and indie pop—which was fit for your motley boutique.

The two of you had been friends since college. You both majored in business and shared a love for reforming clothes. It wasn't long until you started making plans for a business. You made a deal to go in together, save the money, and start up your own boutique, and as of one year ago, you did. It was a brilliant idea that blossomed into what it is today.

Yours and Hongjoong's business is located

in one of the fashion capitals of the world—London. You both specialize in thrifting and reforming. The two of you check out local thrift shops and buy pieces to cut up and put back together to make something unique. You can't find clothes like yours and Hongjoong's anywhere else.

"So, I stopped at a couple secondhand shops on my way here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. What did you find? Anything good?"

"Well, I found this scarf." He spoke, pulling the accessory from a shopping bag. "The print is unique. I thought maybe we could cut up uneven chunks of the fabric and sew them on a jacket or something."

"Ooh." You nodded, envisioning the piece. "I like that. What else?"

"These dainty little chains and these boots."

"Let me guess. Attach the chains to the boots to make them edgy?" You guessed.

"Yes! This is why we're business partners." He grinned. "I'm gonna go put this stuff in the back with the other pieces."

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip of coffee, the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, a slightly bitter aftertaste following.

"Please help get me through the day." You spoke to the beverage as you plopped down behind the register.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room, smoothing out his shirt.

"That window display looks nice."

"Thank you. I did stay late last night to get it set up." You grinned, proudly. "I hope it attracts some new customers."

"It will. It looks fantastic. No other storefronts look like ours." Hongjoong assured you, his eyes trailing off to the dog bed behind the counter, your pet Dalmatian curled up asleep inside.

"I didn't even know Valentino was here." He commented.

"Yeah. He's tired today. He's been sleeping ever since I got here."

"Hey. If that window display doesn't attract new customers, Valentino will."

"Yeah, he's a favorite among our usual customers."

"Speaking of customers." Hongjoong pointed towards the front entrance.

Someone was standing outside in front of the display window, you couldn't see them too well from where you were sitting, though.

"I'm gonna go work on those boots. Just call me if you need me."

"Sure." You nodded, watching Hongjoong disappear behind the beaded curtain separating the front of the store from the back.

You stayed sitting behind the register, assuming the person outside was just perusing and most likely wouldn't come inside.

Just then, the door to the boutique opened, catching your attention. You turned your head and watched as a man with unique half black and half white hair strode into the store. He wore pinstripe pants and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, a tight corset cinched around his waist. On top of the entire ensemble was a cream-colored fur coat draped over his shoulders. His entire appearance practically screamed high fashion and you were left speechless as you stared at this incredibly well-dressed man.

"What's that in the display window?" He asked, pointing with his cane.

"A jacket."

"I know what it is. I'm not stupid. I want to know who made it."

"I did." You answered.

"It's wonderful."

"Thank you." You were surprised to hear this man's praise. "Would you like to see it up close?"

"What kind of question is that?"

You stepped onto the platform in the display window and removed the jacket, bringing it to your new and eccentric customer.

He held it up, examining it, running his gloved fingers over the embellishments on it.

When you first got a hold of it, it was a measly little leather jacket with a couple holes in it, but now it looked like something completely new. You put a couple patches printed to look like newspapers on the jacket to cover the holes and added hundreds of studs and chains to it. To top it off, the word rebel was hand-painted on the back in sharp, white letters.

"I'll take it." The customer finally spoke.

"That's wonderful. Let me ring you up."

He followed you to the register where he paid for the jacket.

At this point, Valentino had gotten out of his bed and wandered around the counter.

"What a cute dog." He commented.

"Thank you. His name is Valentino."

"Like the fashion designer."

"The very same."

"Hm." The man gave a hum of what seemed like approval.

"You know, I just put that jacket out last night. You're the first one to show interest in it."

"What can I say? I have an eye for fashion." He grinned.

"I'd say you do. Your outfit is incredible."

"Oh, this?" He questioned as if it were nothing. "I just threw this together."

Your brows raised at his nonchalance.

"Well, darling, thank you for the jacket." He gave you a wink, retrieving the clothing from the counter. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

You blinked a few times as you watched him stride away, your cheeks feeling slightly warm at the nickname darling.

"Wait." You called out.

The man turned to glance over his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

"San. Don't wear it out, dear."

Just then, Hongjoong emerged from the back seeing San leave the store. The door closed and Hongjoong turned to look at you in your flustered state.

"Who was that?"

"San."

"San who?"

"I don't know, but he was beautiful."

Hongjoong let out a snort. "You're drooling."

You brought your hand up to your mouth, not feeling a thing.

"Am not."

"You were about to."

You rolled your eyes, choosing not to argue back.

A few days passed and all you could think about was the fashionable San. He was only in your store for about five minutes, but he made quite an impression on you, capturing your attention as soon as he stepped into your establishment.

A customer had just purchased a pair of pants with a partial skirt attached to it. Hongjoong only made one tester pair just to see if anyone would buy it.

"Looks like you need to make more of those pants." You commented.

"Looks like I do." Hongjoong smiled.

Your eyes widened as you saw San walking past the storefront, his eyes landing on the new display you set up.

"Oh my gosh." You stood from your seat behind the register.

"What?"

"There he is!" You whispered, pointing to the window.

"That San guy from a few days ago?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes."

"He came back? That must mean he loved what he bought."

Your cheeks became warm thinking about San loving the jacket so much that he came back.

The door opened and in walked the highly fashionable man from the other day. Today he wore a black and white striped shirt with a long, black trench coat over the top. The pants he wore were the same color as his jacket and were cropped above his ankles, showing off his shiny dress shoes with pointed, metallic-capped tips.

"Hello." Hongjoong greeted as he approached San.

"Hello." San responded as he passed Hongjoong, walking straight to you. "Y/n, my dear."

He took your hand, giving a kiss to the back of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Yeah. It's a surprise to see you." You managed to say.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he let go of your hand. "You're surprised I came back?"

"Well, yes."

"I wanted to see what else you've got. Hopefully it's as good as that jacket."

"Ah, well, feel free to look around." You gestured to the endless racks of clothes. "We have plenty more items like that."

San turned towards all the clothes and began perusing the store.

You watched as he strode around, his fingers running over the fabric of the clothes hanging up. Every so often, he would pull a piece of clothing off the rack, examining the garment and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. If he found something he liked, he would take it off the rack and toss it over his arm.

"I must admit, I'm impressed." San spoke up.

"Thank you. I can't take all the credit, though. Hongjoong designs a lot of these pieces as well." You spoke up.

"You're both incredibly talented." San praised. "What about this?" He retrieved a pair of pants from the rack.

You remember the trousers well, Hongjoong designed them. He took two different pairs of pants and cut them in half, one black pair, the other red plaid. He sewed them together and clipped a wallet chain onto the belt loops.

"I made those." Hongjoong spoke up.

"Incredible." San murmured. "I'll take these. I have just the right top to pair with them."

Hongjoong offered to ring up the items San had collected while you made yourself busy rearranging a jewelry display.

Once San had paid for his items, he headed towards the door, briefly coming to a stop beside you.

"Keep doing what you're doing, love. There aren't many people who possess the talent you and your business partner have."

"Thank you." You told him.

"Don't mention it." He waved his hand dismissively as he headed towards the door. "Au revoir." (goodbye in French)

Again, you were left speechless and absolutely awestruck.

"He's amazing."

San continued to stop by the boutique over the next couple weeks, always looking for new finds and wanting to know the latest piece of clothing that had been reformed. He even showed interest in Hongjoong's pants with the half skirt attached to it and requested a custom pair of his own. He was practically a regular customer at this point.

Each time he popped into the store, he wore yet another incredible outfit that left you mind blown. He was the most fashionable person you had met—besides Hongjoong, of course.

"You know San?" You asked.

"The one you always ogle at?" Hongjoong asked.

"I do not—" He gave you a look, making you stop mid-sentence. "Yes. That one."

"What about him?"

"Do you think he lives around here?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"We should hire him."

"What?"

"His style is incredible. We could use someone like him on our staff."

"Hm." Hongjoong hummed. "It's not a bad idea."

The mail slot in the front door opens as today's newspaper falls to the floor. Your dog, Valentino got up to retrieve it, carrying it over to you.

"Ah, the paper. Thank you, Valentino." You thanked your Dalmatian, taking the newspaper from him.

You unrolled the paper, pausing when you saw a photo of a familiar-looking man printed on the front page.

Plastered on the front page of the newspaper was a photo of San, and he was wearing your jacket. The cover read: RENOWNED SOUTH KOREAN FASHION DESIGNER CHOI SAN AT LONDON'S FASHION WEEK.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Hongjoong?" You called out.

Your partner came hurrying over.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Look." You showed him the front page.

Hongjoong's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

"He's a fashion designer?" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. A renowned fashion designer too."

"I can't believe this. Do you know what that means?" Hongjoong asked.

"We had a popular fashion designer stop by our shop!"

"Exactly! Do you think he told his famous fashion designer friends about us?" He inquired excitedly.

"I don't know. Let's read the article."

South Korean fashion designer Choi San has graced London with his presence, traveling to the bustling city for London Fashion Week. He's been seen around the city wearing some eye-catching outfits that have people talking.

Choi San is known for his uniquely original and out-of-the-box designs. Fans and designers alike are all anticipating what he has in store.

"Wow." You gaped. "I'm speechless."

"Do you think those eye-catching outfits consisted of anything he bought from this store?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"I sure hope so."

You were dying for San to return to the boutique. You wanted so badly to talk to him about the new information you found out.

It was a couple days before he returned.

Those were the longest two days of your life.

One overcast day, he came striding into the boutique, graceful and elegant as ever.

"Hello." He greeted before perusing the items, acting as if he wasn't hiding a huge secret.

"You're a renowned fashion designer?!" You shrieked.

"Of course, doll." He responded, casually as his fingertips trailed over a pair of handmade earrings on display.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't know?" He asked, raising a brow.

"No. I saw you in the paper the other day."

"Well, I don't fault you for that. I'm fairly new in the fashion scene. A virtuoso, they call me. Can you believe that?" He chuckled. "It's rather flattering."

"I can't believe a famous fashion designer has been visiting our little boutique. I had no idea."

"Don't let it get to you, dear." He chuckled. "My status shouldn't change the relationship between us."

"R-relationship?" You blushed.

"Yes?" He said it like a question. "We're friends, are we not?"

"Yes! Friends. Of course. Yeah." You chuckled nervously.

That was awkward.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room with a newly reformed piece of clothing, a measuring tape draped around his neck.

"Ah! Just the man I wanted to see." He smiled. "What do you think?"

Hongjoong held up a black coat that had been completely redone. It was embellished with silver swirls and had epaulettes added onto the shoulders.

"Wow." San gaped. "I love everything about it. How much?"

Hongjoong gave him the price he was considering for the garment and San immediately bought it.

"I'll probably stop by within the next few days." He told the both of you.

"That's fine. You're welcome any time. Even if we're closed." Hongjoong smiled.

"Good to know." San tossed his shopping bag over his shoulder. "Until next time." He waved, striding out of the shop.

San returned to your store just a few days later, a large bag tossed over his shoulder.

He strode into the boutique, dropping the sack onto the floor. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Well, don't just stand there. Have a look." He gestured.

You opened the bag and began digging through it, gasping as you pulled out multiple pieces of designer clothes.

"What are you doing? This is thousands of dollars worth of your clothing."

"Right. I want you to tear it up."

"I'm sorry?"

"What you do here. Thrifting clothes. Tearing them apart and putting them back together. I'm having a show, that's why I'm here in London. I'd like to do a small showcase during my show."

"So you're talking about a collaboration? Your clothes, our style?" You questioned.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love."

"We would love to."

"I'd like to watch you work if you don't mind. I can assist you, of course. I would just need a station with a sewing machine."

"Don't worry. We have an extra in the back." Hongjoong chimed in. "We can definitely work something out."

"Fabulous." San grinned. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Later that evening when the store closed, the three of you gathered in the back room where all of the sorting and reassembling took place. You and Hongjoong would examine each piece San brought in, making plans and sketches, discussing how you would upcycle it. With each piece came a story from San about how he came up with the idea for the garment. You enjoyed hearing him talk about his thought process, hanging on to every word. You took it as an opportunity to learn a bit from the fashion genius.

After examining each piece of clothing, the three of you got to work. You and Hongjoong would cut up clothes while San laid them out on a table and pieced them together, following the sketches the two of you provided. Naturally, you and your business partner had music playing to help keep everyone motivated. Though, sometimes you'd get distracted, prancing around the room and dancing.

Unbeknownst to you, San was watching and admiring you as you goofed off. To see you so carefree while doing what you love made his heart swell.

A couple hours passed and the three of you had gotten a considerable amount of work done. You cut up about half of the clothes San brought to you and laid them out with pieces of other garments of San's that you'd planned to turn into one piece.

Once you had a few pieces laid out, you and San began to sew them together while Hongjoong continued to disassemble any remaining garments in the bag.

At some point, Hongjoong let out a huff, stretching his back.

"I could use something to eat. Is anyone else hungry?"

"Starving." You responded.

Hongjoong glanced at his watch.

"It's only 7:00 PM. I can go and pick something up."

"Sounds good. San and I can stay here and keep working."

"Perfect. What's everyone in the mood for?"

You and San shared a look before you spoke up.

"Pizza?"

You then looked to San for approval, worried that he would turn the idea down and suggest some lavish meal.

"It's a classic. You can't go wrong with pizza." He responded.

"Great." Hongjoong clasped his hands together. "I'll be back soon."

Your partner left the room, the sound of the front entrance closing behind him following shortly after. You paid no mind to it as you worked, sewing the lower half of a red plaid shirt onto the bottom of a cropped, leather jacket.

"So, Y/n, how long have you been into fashion?" San inquired.

"Since I was a kid. I'd get into my parents' closet and take their clothes." You chuckled. "I remember one time I took my dad's suit jacket and tied one of my mom's scarves around the waist. Then, I got a hold of her red heels and put them on. The outfit was horrendous and I was far too little for any of the clothes, but it was so much fun."

A soft smile made its way onto San's face as he pictured a tiny you prancing around in a large jacket and heels.

"I used to draw pictures of outfits too. Most of the drawings were of dresses. I'm talking pages upon pages."

"Did you ever create any of those drawings?"

"Goodness no." You chuckled. "When I got older and learned how to use a sewing machine, my taste had changed quite a bit."

San listened to you talk about how your love for fashion progressed as well as how you and Hongjoong met and started your business together.

"That's quite a story."

"Yeah, it is." You hummed. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have their plans work out like mine and Hongjoong's."

"I'd say you're both very lucky."

Valentino, who had been napping walked up to you, resting his head in your lap. You stopped what you were doing to give him a few soft pets accompanied by ear scratches. His tail wagged happily in response. When you stopped, he lifted his paw, placing it on the side of your thigh as a way to tell you to keep going.

"Alright." You chuckled. "But only for a little while. Mama's got work to do."

San watched you with adoration, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

"How did you get Valentino?" He asked.

"I actually found him roaming the streets. I was headed here when I spotted him. I felt so bad. He was only a little guy at the time. I brought him into the store and gave him part of the sandwich I packed for lunch. Hongjoong was surprised to see me come in with a dog, but he didn't mind. I decided that day that I would keep him." You gave the Dalmatian a fond look as you stroked his ears. "While I was working, he wandered in the back room. I later found him sleeping on a Valentino shirt Hongjoong thrifted. That's how I decided to name him."

"He's lucky to have you." San smiled.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

It wasn't long before Hongjoong returned with a couple pizzas and some drinks. The three of you took a twenty minute break to eat and rest before getting back to work. When midnight rolled around, you decided to call it a night. The three of you agreeing to close up shop and head home, promising to pick up again the next day.

You continued to meet up for a week, working tirelessly on the clothes. San and Hongjoong stayed in the back room sewing while you worked the store. When you weren't running the boutique, you were in the back helping San, switching out with Hongjoong.

It took two weeks for every piece to be completed. Once finished, each item of clothing was placed on a hanger and put in a garment bag, provided by San, then put inside a van.

"Thank you so much, darling." San beamed, flashing a bright smile accompanied by the most charming dimples. "The two of you have done marvelous work."

"It was an honor." You told him.

"It really was. To work with someone like you has been such an awesome experience." Hongjoong agreed.

"It's been wonderful working with the both of you." San approached Hongjoong, giving him a brief cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

He then moved over, doing the same to you, except he actually kissed your cheeks.

"I'll see you around." He smirked, giving you a wink before hopping into the van and driving off.

You stood with your mouth open, your cheeks burning from San's sudden kisses.

"He just..." You trailed off, your hands cupping your burning cheeks.

Hongjoong stood off to the side, unable to hold back giggles as he watched you in your flustered state, having witnessed the exchange.

"Y/n! The paper's here!" Hongjoong called. "And San is on the cover again!"

You rushed out of the back room, excitedly.

"Let's see what it says."

Hongjoong laid the paper out on the counter so the both of you could read it. The front page was plastered with photos of San wearing clothes that he bought from the boutique. Your eyes traveled from the photos to the article as you began to read it.

Choi San is set to have a fashion show this weekend where he will showcase his most recent designs. The fashion genius has been spotted walking the streets of London wearing an incredible ensemble from his new fashion line. Critics have been raving over the pieces he's been seen wearing around the city. When asked for any clues about his upcoming line, this was his response.

"Well, I can't reveal much about my designs, but the theme for the show will be 'The Next Generation of Fashion'. So stay tuned, darlings." The designer said.

"What?" You frowned. "His designs?"

"That can't be right." Hongjoong murmured.

His eyes scanned over the article, a frown on his face.

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"It says it right there, plain as day." You pointed. "I can't reveal much about my designs. Not only that, but it says he's been wearing his designs around the city. The clothes he's wearing in the photos is our stuff from the shop."

Hongjoong shook his head in response, unable to believe that San would do that.

"I have to talk with him." You murmured.

"It looks like you'll get your chance."

The door swung open and in walked Choi San, happy as ever.

"Hello, loves." He greeted, striding towards the register.

Hongjoong, who knew what was going to happen, quickly made himself scarce.

Your jaw clenched as he approached you with an arrogant grin that you wanted so badly to slap off his face. You snatched up the newspaper and slammed it onto the counter.

"Care to explain?"

The designer's brows furrowed as he looked down at the front page. "I don't understand."

"The article, San. You totally took credit for mine and Hongjoong's work."

"No, I didn't."

"It says so right here." You pointed.

He leaned down to get a better look at the paper.

"I can't believe I thought you wanted to work with me." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Just go."

San merely turned around and left the boutique without another word.

A huff left you as you spun around, storming into the back room.

"What happened?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I told him to leave."

"He didn't say anything?"

"No."

Valentino trotted in a few moments later with an envelope in his mouth.

"What's that?" Asked Hongjoong.

"I don't know. He already got the mail."

You took the lavish, cream-colored envelope from him, opening it up.

Inside was a card with two tickets to the fashion show. The card had a short note written in neat handwriting:

You've worked hard. Enjoy the show.

- San

"It's tickets to San's fashion show." You scoffed.

"He sent us tickets?" Hongjoong rushed over, peering over your shoulder.

"I guess that's what he came here to do." You assumed.

"Y/n, you need to go." He told you.

"What? No. There's no way. Not after what he did to us."

"I know you're upset that he used us, but I want to go to the show, you should too. The least we can do is show up and see our designs on the runway."

To your disappointment, he had a point. It would be nice to be able to see the clothes you and Hongjoong worked so hard to create.

You walked into the event, loud music blaring throughout the large room. You felt like your whole body was trembling. You didn't want to be there.

"You look great." Hongjoong assured you.

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"It'll be fine, Y/n. Despite what he did, I think he wanted us to be here."

"I can't understand why."

The two of you made your way to a row of seats. Hongjoong stopped suddenly, nudging you.

"Look." He pointed to the first row of seats, each one with a card on them. There were two chairs beside each other, one had a card with Hongjoong's name on it, the other with yours. You were a bit surprised to see that you had reserved seats, especially after what happened just a few days prior.

"C'mon." Hongjoong beckoned you over to your chairs.

After sitting down, you held the name card in your hand, flipping it back and forth. On the cardstock was your name printed in beautiful gold letters, a decorative box framing the print.

The show began shortly after, rock music playing through the speakers in the building as the lights started to dim. A silence settled over the room as everyone focused on the bright catwalk. A voice came over the speakers, kicking off the show.

"Welcome to the next generation of fashion."

Models began striding down the runway, each one donning an outfit you had never seen. You knew immediately that these were San's designs. Though you want very happy with him at the moment you had to admit, his designs were impeccable—they were nothing like you'd ever seen before. It was hard not to be impressed by his incredible work. He truly was a virtuoso.

Halfway through the show, that same voice came over the speakers once again.

"And now, for a special showcase."

Your eyes widened in awe as you watched the models strut down the catwalk wearing designs that you and Hongjoong created. It was like a dream come true. You just wished the circumstances were better. Though your situation wasn't the greatest, you didn't let that put a damper on your excitement.

The both of you watched with awestruck expressions as the models sashayed down the runway, showing off the upcycled pieces of San's previous fashion lines. The models looked incredible, as did their hair and makeup. Every single one had a different look and managed to match the vibe of each ensemble.

"Wow." You gaped.

"Yeah." Hongjoong nodded, his wide eyes staring unblinking at the models.

The last few models made their way off stage, signaling the end of the showcase. You knew what would happen next.

Your chest tightened when San walked up on stage. The crowd clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front of the catwalk.

His black and white hair was pushed away from his face in a messy, yet tidy way that perfectly suited him. His ensemble consisted of a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, showing off a silver body chain. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black, high-waisted trousers with two rows of buttons on the front and a chain dangling from the waist. He had on a large, spotted fur coat that resembled a Dalmatian, and bold, red gloves with many silver rings on top. The coat was long and swayed behind him as he stepped forward.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted, scanning the crowd.

You unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, afraid of being noticed.

"I hope you all enjoyed the show. First of all, I want to thank every single one of you for coming tonight. I appreciate your support dearly."

The crowd clapped in response.

"The showcase you all just watched was extra special. You might have noticed some familiar elements in each outfit, those elements being my old designs. Each one has gotten a new life, being turned into something different." He explained.

There were a few oohs from the crowd.

"I can't take all the credit for the end result you all saw moments ago. Yes, these may be my clothes, but they were truly brought to life by the amazing people who run a small boutique in town and I have to give all the credit to them. I was only a small part of this." He admitted. "Contrary to what the papers have been saying, all the fashion I've been wearing during my time here has been created by them. The pieces I wore were purchased at their boutique, it was not me giving anyone a sneak peek at what would be showcased tonight. You should all know, I hate giving spoilers."

Your lips pressed together as you felt shame and embarrassment flood your entire body.

"Now, I would like to introduce you all to the two incredibly talented fashionistas who re-created the stunning looks you just saw. Hongjoong and Y/n, will you come up here?" San turned right towards the both of you, your cheeks being set aflame.

Hongjoong nudged you as he stood up, heading onto the catwalk with you nervously following behind.

"Everyone please give these two a rousing applause!"

The whole room erupted in claps and cheers for you and Hongjoong. You were overwhelmed. You got to see your designs displayed on the runway and you were receiving a literal standing ovation from a room full of fashion designers and other luminaries. To top it all off, San was being genuine the entire time. Of course, you totally made a fool out of yourself and snapped at him without bothering to hear him out, and for that you needed to apologize.

San thanked everyone and gave a shoutout to yours and Hongjoong's boutique before closing out the show.

"There's going to be an after party in the next room, so please feel free to stay and hang out."

And with that, the show was over and the after party began. Everyone started getting up from their seats, making their way to the next room as you, San, and Hongjoong exited the catwalk, going backstage.

"Thank you, San. The showcase was incredible." Hongjoong told him.

"I should be thanking you. Tonight was a success and that's because of you two."

You smiled a little, guilt weighing on your heart.

"Well, I believe you two need some time alone, so I'm going to the after party. I'll see you later." Hongjoong quickly excused himself, allowing you and San some privacy.

"San, I'm so terribly sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I was really hateful to you that day." You apologized immediately.

"It's alright." He shook his head with a soft smile. "Don't worry yourself."

"I didn't know the tabloids messed up"

"Well, they did. I read the paper when I got home that day and found that they misquoted me. I never said my designs. I said the designs. They also jumped to conclusions big time and assumed the pieces from your store were my designs. I'd say I can't believe they did that, but honestly, that's how they are." He rolled his eyes. "Magazines, newspapers, websites. They're practically known for mincing people's words. How embarrassing."

"My apology still stands. I should have let you explain."

"I told you not to worry." San brought a gloved finger up under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. "You don't have to apologize."

"Alright." You sighed.

He dropped his hand, giving you a warm smile.

"So, what did you think about the show? Honestly."

"It was incredible. I was blown away by your designs and the ones Hongjoong and I worked on looked great too. It was honestly a dream come true. And that was nice of you to give our shop a shoutout at the end."

"You both deserve it." He smiled softly.

"Your outfit tonight is incredible. I especially love the coat."

"Thank you, doll. It's a tribute."

"A tribute?"

"To you. It reminded me of your dear Valentino so I wanted to wear it tonight."

You didn't hold back the flattered grin that spread across your features.

He did that for you?

"Now, let's talk about this ensemble you have on. You look absolutely divine." He told you.

Your eyes widened. "You think so?"

"I know so. Let me have a look at this." He glanced at your outfit, stepping back and allowing you to show him the full look.

You chose a flattering, yet chic ensemble; a bit edgy like what you and Hongjoong reform, but classy enough for a fashion show.

"Oh my." San gasped. "My dear Y/n, you are absolutely stunning."

You tried to stay cool, but San's compliments were getting to you, making your whole body feel like it was going to collapse.

"Love, can I tell you something?" He suddenly asked, his hand reaching for yours.

You allowed him to take it as he pulled you closer.

"Yes. Of course."

"You've captivated me, my dear Y/n. I treasure that night we shared in the back room of your shop. I enjoyed learning more about you and your love for fashion."

That brought a smile to your face.

"I enjoyed that night too, and every night after that when we worked on clothes."

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual." He smiled, his thumb running over the top of your hand.

You could tell there was something he wasn't saying or something he wanted to say, rather.

"We made a great team. Perhaps we should make this duo permanent."

"What are you trying to say?" You inquired.

"I'm saying, I want you to be my girlfriend."

You tried to hold back your smile as you looked at him.

"What if I don't feel the same?" You asked.

"Darling, I know when people are staring at me."

"What?"

"I saw you gawking at me all those times I came into your boutique."

"Oh." You became flustered. "So you noticed."

"Don't be embarrassed, darling. I quite liked it. Attention from the public is nice, but attention from you is even better."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart racing.

"So, what do you say? You want to make this official?"

"Yes, please."

San was unable to contain himself as a glowing grin spread across his face, his dimples making an appearance. His hand let go of yours, moving to rest against your waist, tugging your body closer. You knew what he was getting around to and you were more than okay with it. His gloved hand cupped your cheek as his sharp, half-lidded eyes darkened slightly, his face inching closer to yours.

"Just kiss me already." You urged, desperate to feel his lips.

"What's the magic word?" He whispered.

Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed the body chain that hung over his chest, using it to pull him to you, your lips crashing against his. The unexpected action caught San off guard, but he didn't mind. In fact, he thought that was very attractive.

His hand immediately moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could deepen the kiss.

"A girl who knows what she wants. I like that." He smirked against your mouth before capturing your lips fully with his own. You clung to him desperately, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt as your head tilted slightly, wanting to feel closer to San.

A hum of satisfaction from San vibrated against your lips, sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. His hand that was resting on your waist made its way to the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away in need of air. San stared down at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes droopy. His hair had become slightly out of place, a few extra strands hanging over his forehead. You casually brought your hand up to his uniquely-colored hair, gently running your hand over it, careful not to mess it up.

"I've always been fascinated with your hair." You admitted.

"Really?"

You hummed with a nod.

"I used to color it when I was a kid. I felt that I stood out too much."

"You know, sometimes standing out is a good thing."

He smiled, cupping your cheek. "That's exactly right, my dear."

The designer placed one last kiss to your lips before escorting you back out to the main room.

"Now, what do you say we go to that after party?"

"Sounds good." You nodded.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

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