#and look who's finally getting a moment in the spotlight!

[thomamaru]

Scripted Hearts: The Star, His Love, and His Spotlight...

Synopsis: Rin loves it when you wear his jersey. He may not show it, but deep inside, it shows that you are only a fan of him and nobody else's. The one day you wear it outside, you encounter his brother.

Tags: Rin Itoshi x gn!reader, jealous and protective! Rin itoshi, Sae is a tease, fluff

You’re on your way to meet Rin after his late practice, lazily wearing one of his jerseys since he left it at your place after a shoot. It feels soft and oversized, the number 10 sprawled across your back. As you pass by a café, someone calls out.

“Nice jersey.”

You turn, heart skipping as you recognize Sae Itoshi. Rin’s older brother. The famous Sae Itoshi—international soccer superstar and household name. You’d seen his aloof expression a million times in interviews, but now he’s standing a few feet from you, a brow raised.

“Thanks?” you stammer, unsure of what else to say.

“I didn’t know Rin lent you that.” His voice is cool but mildly amused. “Must mean you’re important to him.”

You chuckle nervously, “Uh, something like that. Are you visiting?”

Sae steps closer, a faint smirk gracing his face. “Something like that. Mind if I join you for a moment?”

As Sae chats with you, you find yourself less overwhelmed and more fascinated. He’s charming and charismatic, making light jokes about Rin’s dramatic nature, though there’s a sharpness in his tone whenever he mentions his younger brother.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rin walking up the street. His hoodie’s pulled low, hands tucked into his pockets, his posture already rigid when he notices Sae speaking with you.

Sae follows your gaze, and a glimmer of mischief lights up his eyes. Before you can figure out what he’s planning, Sae leans in.

“Stand still,” he says casually, pulling out his phone.

“What—?”

Click.

The sudden flash blinds you, and before you can react, Sae pulls back with a smug grin. Turning to Rin, who’s now glaring at the scene from just a few feet away, Sae holds up the phone as if to say, See this?

“Later,” Sae says coolly, walking past you to casually bump shoulders with Rin. His exit is punctuated with a stuck-out tongue that only Rin can see.

You turn to Rin, still stunned. “That was...weird.”

Rin doesn’t answer. His teal eyes are locked on the spot Sae disappeared, his jaw visibly clenched. Without a word, he turns and starts walking ahead of you.

---

From that point on, Rin becomes...strange.

He starts hovering closer, always making sure his arm rests around your shoulders or that he’s the one holding your hand—even in situations where it isn’t necessary.

He starts nitpicking things. “Why were you talking to him for so long?” “You looked too comfortable.” “Don’t trust anything he says.”

During a red-carpet event, he leans in closer than usual when photographers ask for a couple shot, his lips brushing your temple with a pointed, "Mine," under his breath.

At first, you think he’s just being protective. But after the third time you catch him scrolling through his phone (most likely checking Sae’s social media), you finally confront him.

It’s late at night, and Rin is at your place, brooding on your couch while you try to get some work done. When he sighs for the fifth time in ten minutes, you slam your laptop shut.

“Okay, spill.”

Rin flinches but doesn’t look at you. “What?”

“You’ve been acting weird ever since we bumped into Sae. Don’t lie.”

His lips tighten into a thin line as his fingers tap against his knee—a rare show of nervousness. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not ‘nothing.’ Rin, if something’s bothering you, just—"

“I didn’t like it.”

You blink, startled by his bluntness. “…Didn’t like what?”

“The jersey,” he says softly, staring at his hands. “You wearing my number. His number. Him acting like you…” Rin takes a deep breath, the words almost growled: “...like you’re someone he can mess with.”

“Oh.” You sit back, realization dawning on you. “You’re jealous.”

His head snaps up, his teal eyes wide. “I’m not—”

“You’re definitely jealous!” you say, stifling a laugh.

“I’m not!” Rin protests, his voice rising slightly before softening. “It’s just… I don’t like the way he looks at you. Like he’s better than me. Like he can take you—”

“Rin.”

Your voice makes him pause, and when you place a hand on his cheek, his rigid expression crumbles just slightly.

“I’m with you because I want you. Not Sae, not anyone else. Just you.

He swallows hard, leaning into your touch. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I mean it.” You smile softly. “Though, for the record, I like when you get a little possessive. It’s cute.”

Rin groans, burying his face in your neck as you laugh.

---

The next day, Rin posts a picture of the two of you in his jersey on his private account—a candid shot of you laughing on his couch while he watches you with a rare, genuine smile.

Minutes later, your phone buzzes with a notification.

Sae Itoshi: Guess he made his move, huh? Cute.

You laugh, showing Rin the message. He narrows his eyes, snatching your phone and typing a single reply.

Y/N : Stay away.

When you glance at him, his glare softens into a small smirk. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, pulling him closer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Only because of you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours.

And for once, you’re okay with that.

(*￣∇￣)ノ

[tiyawnyana]

Thank you for the request!!! @all-seeingeye so sorry it took so long but I really wanted to capture some angst and soft comfort with what I envision with Viktor and his dynamics with people

A/N: brrrr it's finally like fall out where I'm at, so cold and so windy

Characters: Viktor x Male (or gender neutral) character

Warnings: hurt, comfort, slight angst, illness, character death

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Golden

Growing up, you were more of the scrawnier kid in your family. It wasn't for a lack of food- no, you had plenty. You ate plenty, always provided for by your professor parents.

It just seemed to be what your body was like. Your parents fussed, grandparents even moreso, over your tiny frame but ultimately they realized you were fine. Healthy. Just small.

As you grew, you still remained lanky and small, but it was more so lean, less defined muscle.

You had first met Viktor as he was introduced to the academy of engineering by Counselor Heimerdinger. You had stopped by, bringing food for your parents who were learning they would be teaching the first Zaunite transfer student- you were stunned. Viktor was incredibly kind, his voice smooth but features sharp, soothed by the warm honey glow of his eyes.

He extended his hand, the olive branch to you, and you were so easily entwined in his branches.

You decided to pursue more engineering classes, suddenly interested as Viktor had a way with words that made this whole new world seemingly filled with light and promise.

You appreciated his kindness- you had struggled with making friends that could understand your way of thinking or talking, often residing by the walls in favor of staying out of the spotlight.

He was kind. He was patient. You were entangled.

You devoted yourself to creations, wishing to make a difference down in the Undercity but projects needed funding, something that was scorned upon despite the picture perfect model citizen of the Undercity- Viktor, who worked on said projects with you in hopes for them to take flight and actually help the undercity.

There was a breakthrough- Suddenly, the promise of scientific engineered magic spreading across the city, led by Jayce Talis.

He, too, was a kind man. He cared deeply for Viktor who saved his life. You often found yourself thinking that the man from the undercity did the same for you as well.

As Hextech grew and blossomed, you took notice of Viktor getting ill. He was closer with you, you'd like to think, enough that he would link his arm with yours down vacant halls as you both discussed new project ideas in the late nights. Those were the times that you realized just how badly this illness was affecting him.

You took up working out, building up your arm strength over time.

You wanted him to lean on you as much as needed, figuratively and literally. He was everything- he brought light to your stale world, you wanted to provide that same light and kindness.

He returned from his check up with the physician with a slight wobble in his step, one that he couldn't mask as easily.

You walk beside him, side eyeing his form with a never ending worry.

“You're staring,” he murmurs, side eyeing you back.

“Sorry-” you sigh,”Just- What did the physician say?” You stop in the hallway and he stops as well. People walk past, nodding your way with no regard to the genius before you.

Viktor sighs, leaning wholly on his cane,”Same thing as always,” but he averts his gaze.

You notice, of course you do,”which is?”

He huffs in annoyance, but it's never directed at you,”My leg is getting worse- just as everything else is. They think they'll find a breakthrough soon,” he shrugs,”But you and I both know that's not the case.”

“Don't say that,” you murmur, reaching a hand out to hold his bicep,”I hold hope that they will, they have to-”

He shakes his head,”You're always too hopeful,” then looks back at you in silence for a brief moment,”Let's go back to the labs. I'd rather spend my time there anyway.”

You nod with a soft, albeit worried smile, then follow in his stride, almost hovering if he ends up needing help.

Weeks roll on, new breakthroughs with Viktor and Jayce have a buzz going through the halls.

“-this formula doesn't make sense though, look-” Jayce shows you the notebook clasped in his hands,”In theory- it'd work just fine, but when I've applied it to the gauntlet, it doesn't work-”

You open your mouth to respond but it's not you who speaks.

“What of the gemstone?” Viktor responds from across the room, engrossed with his own creation.

“That is.. not entirely ready yet,” Jayce scratches the back of his neck.

“Then we can finalize it,” Viktor turns to look your way,”It only needs a few more tests and final notes, correct?”

“Yes, that's correct,” Jayce confirms.

“Viktor and I can get that done, then-” you nod his way,”You have that banquet, right? With the Counsel and their buyers?”

Jayce huffs at the mere mention,”Yes, but I don't see why it's important.”

“Counselor Medarda seems to think it could help fund some of our future projects,” you speak with a knowing smirk, looking over to Viktor who rolls his eyes.

Jayce becomes slightly sheepish, stammering over himself as he tries to brush it off,”Well- uh, my time is more valuable here, in the labs-”

“You are the golden boy, the face of Hextech, Jayce,” you pat his shoulder,”Go, get the support and funds for the projects, we can handle this here.”

He huffs in annoyance but nods,”I'll be back in the morning, then- if anything happens, though-”

“Tell you immediately,” you and Viktor say at the same time. You throw a knowing smirk his way before shooing Jayce out of the lab.

You walk over to Viktor, midway through writing formulas down. You hover, gazing down at the runes and the new design for his hex claw.

“The new design is nice,” you murmur.

“Thank you,” he speaks softly, before putting down his pencil and turning around in the chair,”we should get started on the gemstone.”

“Not before dinner,” you shake your head, standing up straight and crossing the room to the lunch bags your mother bad insisted you take,”My mother made more of that cuisine- the one with the radishes?”

Viktor looked annoyed at the thought of having to eat but ultimately nods, relenting as you place the food down before him with a soff,’Thank you.’

You eat in silence, leaning back against the desk. After a mouthful, you mumble,”What even are the gauntlets for?” As you usher over to the semi finished project across the room.

Viktor finishes chewing, side eyeing the project,”Jayce says it can help the people that are mining, making a three day job into a 3 hour job.”

He shrugs. You hum at his answer.

“You think they can be used down in the undercities mines, then? Once the air is cleared, of course.”

Viktor is silent for a moment, seemingly thinking it over,”One can only hope.” Then he's silently finishing his food.

After finishing dinner, you stand poised in the center of the lab with a mallet.

Viktor tinkered with the gemstone, finalizing it and stands across the room with goggles on. You stand there, waiting for his mark, with a welders mask strapped to your face.

His hand raises, and you bring your hand down, a loud noise filling the room as the mallet connects with the gemstone. What looks like electricity shoots around the room fizzles out, but the residual shock of it sends Viktor collapsing. You're dropping the mallet just as quick, unstrapping the mask from your face and quickly helping him up.

His face is strained as he carefully sits in the chair you bring him to and he reaches down to rub at his leg, the brace wrapped firm around his muscle.

“The reaction is getting to be less.. violent, at least,” he murmurs through a wince.

“Yes, uh,” but you're not focused on the gemstone, moreso at the fact that his hand won't stop shaking. You grasp his hand in yours,”I think we should stop here.”

His gaze snaps to yours, taking in the furrow in your brow and the worry laced into your eyes,”No- no, let's continue.”

“Viktor, please,” you urge carefully, not wanting to come off as commanding nor pitiful.

“No, I'm fine, just-”

He's interrupted by a coughing fit, and you're quickly moving to grab him water. He takes it quickly, cooling his throat.

He huffs for a minute, confused as he rubs over his chest carefully.

After that minute, he tries to stand, but his knees wobble beneath him and he almost buckles over only for you to catch him with an arm around his waist.

“Yeah, we're done for the night,” you speaks firmly and for once, he doesn't argue as you help him out of the lab.

After locking up behind you, he's leaning against the wall with his eyes shut, taking in soft breaths.

“I should bring you to the physician,” you speak carefully.

He looks at you, momentarily silent before nodding quietly.

You loop your arm with his and you're thankful that he leans on you now but halfway across the building, he begins to cough again, bending at the waist and nearly hacking up a lung.

“Ok, c'mon,” you manage to say after he's calmed, taking his cane and carefully lifting him into your arms. He grips at your shoulder, eyes wide in shock.

“I don't want your pity-” he rasps.

“Viktor,” you mumble, looking at him with sincerity,”You'll never have pity from me, only care.”

He huffs but slumps in your hold, legs dangling over your arm and leaning into your chest as you carry him to the physician.

The door cracks open carefully, the soft creak of wood waking you with a slight startle.

Jayce peeks his head in and you're confused before taking in the early morning rays of sun shining in through the blinds.

He carefully shuts the door behind him and you sit up in the chair you'd dragged closer to the bed Viktor remains asleep on, an iv drip hooked in his arm.

“The physician told me it was a cold?” Jayce murmurs softly as he crosses the room.

You softly clear your throat,”Yeah- I guess, honestly..” you trail off, gazing over at your friend,”I think it's worse than that- but I don't want to jinx it.”

He nods quietly,”I'm trying to figure out something to help him, his leg-”

You nod too,”Been trying to do that for years, too, it seems.”

There's a slight lull, a silence filling the room but not an entirely uncomfortable one.

It's broken when Viktor breathes in shakily, his eyes cracking open blearily.

You focus your attention on him, and Jayce is quick to go get the doctor. Your hand clasps over Viktors, soothing him with a soft, kind smile as he finally relaxes.

Honey golden eyes peer back at you framed by tired eyes and thick, brown lashes.

You grow familiar with his weight- carrying him to the physician due to his health plummeting.

It seems that the first time- it was a cold, but rapidly grew into something in the lungs. It's remained in him the last few months and you remain glued to his side, ensuring his well being.

You lose sleep or have half assed sleep in that little chair by the bed, hand entangled with his. Like a lifeline.

You don't know that he wakes up in the middle of those nights, looking over at you with the same worry and concern, tightening his hand around yours.

One night, Jayce was busy at a concert with the Counselors.

You were crossing the building, bringing food with promises to meet Viktor in the labs that night due to being busy with your parents throughout the day. You had waved to Sky, the new assistant to Viktor, brought on to the team a few months back. A kind, sweet young lady with bright eyes and even brighter dreams- she was going to the lab as well and would be there before you.

Opening the door to the lab, you're greeted with a sob of what sounds to be pain. You drop the food, uncaring if it spills as you rush in, the sight of Viktor collapsed to the ground a staggering one.

You don't hesitate, rushing over and carefully lifting him in your arms, confused at the fine powder surrounding him but paying it no mind.

“Viktor- Viktor, I'm here, I'm bringing you to the physician-”

He passes out in your hold, slumping against your chest.

Your hand is entangled with his, fingers laced together as you muffle the sobs into your fist.

Viktor remains asleep, iv hooked into his arm with a relieving relaxed look on his features.

The door cracks open early in the morning, Jayce quickly but quietly slipping through. He looks exhausted but at the same time like he actually slept. His hair is a mess, eyes rimmed red and he inhales sharply over the sight of you, eyes red and shiny with tears.

You sit up, sniffling softly and wiping your nose with a tissue but never letting go of Viktors hand.

“They told me,” he murmurs, crossing the room and dragging the other chair over to sit beside you.

You nod, that ball in your throat burning. You're quiet for a moment before rasping,”I got into engineering because of him- for him.”

Jayce nods,”All I've wanted to do was help him.”

You wipe your eyes, a soft headache brewing but you remain uncaring to it.

“Our inventions- our creations, we were supposed to make something-”

“The hexcore-” Jayce interrupts,”If we finalize it, we can-”

You shake your head,”Jayce- he said to destroy it.”

“What?” He rasps.

You nod in disbelief, watery eyes meeting his,”He wants us to destroy it- said something about it growing too dangerous.”

“That's just because it's not safe guarded yet,” Jayce tries to reason.

“No- this wasn't a matter of finalizing it,” you look back over at Viktors resting face,”He was frantic. Scared, even.. insisted about its destruction.”

Jayce is quiet otherwise, a soft sigh of defeat filling the room.

You grew familiar with holding his weight in your arms. You gained more muscle over time, but not realizing that he was losing himself- bit by bit, every cough seemingly taking part of himself away.

The building shook with the explosion. You took off, realizing it came from the northernmost part of the building, the counselors chamber. You had walked Jayce and Viktor up there before departing.

You nearly slam into the wall trying to avoid a frantic Jayce, heart seizing into your throat upon the sight of a broken Viktor in his arms.

He looked small in Jayces hold.

You run right behind Jayce, tears stinging your eyes and quickly unlock the door to the lab for him as he carefully places your friend down on the table.

Your fingers press to his throat, trying to find a pulse and a wrecked sob tears from your own at the realization that you can't find it.

You wipe the dust and dirt from his face, urging him to wake up. To greet you with his kind, honey golden eyes and to scold you for pitying him. You allow the tears to flow, sobs coming freely now when the sound of metal clacking followed an almost mechanical whir echoes in the room.

You raise your head, looking to Jayce as he walks closer, clasped onto the hexcore with metal tongs and ignoring your frantic yell before the room erupts into a blue, sending you into the wall with a resounding thud.

The last thing you see is Viktor enveloped by a bright light, his skeleton faintly visible and realizing his spine had broken.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—A/N: thank you again :))))

[enthusiasticharry]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 10k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I'm so sorry!! I know it's been forever since i've posted and i truly did start writing this to have it out in august but then life got a head of me! I had to move, start a new job it's all be crazy. Now, I can officially say that I'll try and post more regularly (but i can't guarantee anything!) thank you for all the support over the last two and a bit years on this fic, i couldn't ever leave it unfinished for you guys!! enjoy the last chapter of regret me and if you need me, i'll be sobbing in a corner somewhere!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, talks of drug/ alcohol use, mentions of addiction recovery, angst (i'm sorry), and a stupid little boy who finally realises how amazing he has it.

𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 here

Los Angeles, Spring 1985

The Rise and Fall (and Rise Again) of a Rock n’ Roll Star by Christopher Thomas

Standing in front of YN YLN’s home, I was nervous. The house itself wasn’t exactly what one may expect of one of the biggest stars to come out of the 70s – it was homely, comforting and not necessarily a ‘rock star mansion’. My nerves stemmed more consequently from the woman I was meeting; one I hadn’t seen in over 10 years and hadn’t necessarily left the best impression at that time either.

However, the second I rang the bell and the door swung open – the past didn’t seem to matter. YLN was wearing a denim skirt, one that landed just above her knee and a light floral blouse with long sleeves that the singer had definitely worn before, or if not something very similar. We chuckled when I pointed out her footwear (her beloved cowboy boots) – something that wasn’t surprising to me and shouldn’t be to any of you. She invited me in and offered me a coffee – something that I was not going to say no to.

After a little small talk, asking how we’d been and so forth, it became time to get to the nitty gritty of my visit, and what everyone reading had been waiting for. After being a household name for the better part of ten years – YN YLN was finally a Grammy nominee. For someone who had been in the spotlight for so long, many may have thought that she was past her prime and that her eighth studio album wasn’t going to be anything special – and yet it was her best one.

“I think it’s raw,” YLN spoke when asked about what was different with this record from her others, “I stopped hiding. It’s the truth – I think people are appreciating the truth from me.”

There was a part of me which was scared to go forward with questioning from here, but with a quick reassurance from YN that it was okay – I continued. In the last four months since her album had been released, YN had started to open conversations about her addiction, something that I had asked her about years prior, at a time when she was in the wrath of her addiction and refused to comment. Looking back, it wasn’t my best moment as a journalist.

“I had freedom that I hadn’t even experienced before,” The air felt thicker as YLN spoke upon this subject, “I went from 0 to 100, and if it wasn’t for the people around me that loved me at that time, I wouldn’t be here today, talking to you.”

The house YLN lives in sits right on the Californian coast, a quiet and calm place away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Once we had finished our coffees, YN suggested a walk down to the beach. She explains that her best friend, Vivienne (“She’s my sister,”), lives in the next house and that she hasn’t gone a day without speaking to her since the day they met, and she wasn’t going to start now.

“Vivienne is my family. I lost interest in my actual family when I realised they didn’t love me, but Viv never made me miss them – she became everything I needed and more. She saw me as a naïve young girl on the strip without a single clue and helped me when she didn’t need to. I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”

YLN mentions her family, more so her parents Mr and Mrs YLN. Her father, a senator seemingly didn’t agree with her new lifestyle and her music even more so, and it seemed as though whatever her father said her mother agreed with. When I asked if the way they had treated her had anything to do with her addiction, and her subsequent overdose YN went silent, choosing not to comment verbally but physically shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t regret anything in my life,” YN takes out a cigarette, offering me one which I accept, “I have come to realise that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve loved and lost for a reason. It’s made me the person I am today.”

The last time I spoke with YLN, she was in a relationship with fellow Rock n’ Roll star Harry Styles, who I have also written for in the past. YLN and Styles have never publicly spoken about the reason behind their split, but rumours surfaced soon after that Styles had been the one to cheat on YLN just before her first world tour.

“I would say that for any songwriter, heartbreak can be a big influence,” YLN chuckles, shaking her head slightly, “I won’t say what happened, I think if anyone has listened to any of my records, especially my latest one – you’ll already know what happened. It was one part of my life, and I don’t hold anything that happened against anyone.”

YN asks for a break after this and asks if we can reconvene later in the day. She recommended that we meet at a café for some late lunch that is a mile or so away from her house. I thought, like probably many of you, YLN would return from the beach to her house. Instead, she made her way up the sand and towards Vivienne’s house, obviously needing some time with her best friend.

“I hope that whoever listens to the album finds something for themselves within it,” YN speaks, sipping on her Iced Tea as we sat across from each other in the café, “It’s my gift for everyone. I hope that everyone who has ever had something to say about me or my life listens to it, and it answers whatever questions they may have.”

YLN lists her relationship, her addiction and everything in between as things that people may have questions about. Since the 70s, the amount of information that the public has known about her has dwindled and she says that is for a reason.

“I had to separate my life from the life that people saw,” YLN nods, “To protect myself, I needed that. All I hope is that people weren’t too angry with me.”

Once we’ve eaten (both having burgers since YLN said that it was the best thing on the menu, and both the waitress and the owner knew her by name), we go outside to have another cigarette. We both joked that we would quit smoking one day, but today was not going to be that day.

“I’ll be there… at the awards,” YN responds when I ask her about whether or not she will be attending the Grammy’s, “I don’t necessarily care about winning – it would be lovely, of course, but it’s not going to make or break me. I’ve lasted this long without; I am damn sure I can last for a lot longer.”

As our time together drew to a close, I asked what I suppose myself and many others are wondering – does YN see an end to her career anytime in the future?

YLN chuckled at the question, “I’ll do this as long as I can if the people will have me.”

If it was up to me, I’d say that YLN will be a name that sticks around for years to come. But, I suppose that’s down to you.

“I know your cowboy boots are like you’re thing or whatever, YN, but I highly doubt that it’s the best look for the Grammys,” Vivienne speaks from where she’s laid upon the bed in YN’s hotel room.

“I don’t feel right without them, Viv, I have to wear them,” YN stresses from where she’s sat, having her makeup done.

Pamela snorts from where she’s lying next to Vivienne. Since they met, Vivienne and Pamela have been inseparable. Therefore, that means that Vivienne, Pamela, and YN have been inseparable. It was a package deal, unfortunately for Pamela, but she didn’t mind too much. The things that Pamela did mind though, however that YN not only had a key to their house but would invite herself in pretty much all of the time. It had become the case that waking up in the morning without three people in their bed instead of two was the norm. At first, Pamela would be confused and disorientated, and then she soon realised that was just what the two girls were like. Where there was one, there was the other not too far behind.

“Pam, I’m nearly done and then it’s your turn,” YN stresses, allowing her make-up artist, Claude, to finish the final touches on her makeup.

Pamela groans, dropping back on the bed and pushing herself into Vivienne’s body. The other girl groans but accepts her fate as her girlfriend’s body rests against her. It wasn’t that anyone was forcing Pamela to wear makeup – she knew it was for the best, considering they were about to be on live television, it just wasn’t something that she normally did. But, as much as this was YN’s moment and her first Grammy nomination, it was Pamela’s too – and that meant, in YN’s eyes, she deserved to be spoilt, too. Pamela hadn’t necessarily ever expected her first band to split up, but it was always a possibility. It was a huge life change, and she hadn’t a single clue of what she was going to do once it happened. Then, when YN invited her to the studio and they started to work on some songs together, they both knew that it made sense for all parties involved that Pamela join YN’s band. That has also meant that Vivienne has been the band’s photographer since that moment as well. As mentioned before, the trio are often never seen without each other.

Apart from being the band’s photographer whenever they needed, Vivienne had also opened her gallery – something that she had always wanted to do but never had the opportunity to do.  Seeing her best friend and her favourite person excel in the way that she had done warmed YN in ways that she couldn’t explain.

“Do I have to?” Pamela groaned, pressing her face deeper into Vivienne’s chest.

“Yes,” YN stood up once she had finished, lifting one of the pillows that had been absentmindedly thrown to the bottom of the bed up and hitting the girl with it. It took a few attempts, but soon Pamela had pushed herself up from Vivienne and, with a sulk on her face, sat in the chair, “Thank you. I know you don’t think so, but I’m doing this with your best interest at heart.”

Pamela just groans and crosses her arms over her chest, allowing Claude to get started. Trying her best not to mess her makeup up, YN drops down on the bed next to Vivienne. YN found herself picking at the hole that sat around the wrist of the sweater she was wearing. It was an attempt at not trying to show the nerves that were wracking around her body – but it was difficult, especially when the people in the room were YN’s closest confidants and knew every little tick that the girl had.

“Look,” Vivienne reaches over and grabs YN’s hand, “If you’re nervous about the awards, it’s honestly too fucking unlikely that you won’t win.”

YN snorts, accepting Vivienne’s reassuring squeeze, “Thanks Viv, but I don’t think it’s that.”

“Ah,” The girl nods, “It’s about Harry, isn’t it?”

The announcement for who would be presenting the awards came out a few weeks ago, and whilst YN had originally not thought it was important to know who it would be – it very quickly became obvious that wasn’t the case. When the presenters had been announced, Vivienne had received word of who would be presenting Album of the Year and had immediately rushed over to YN’s house. Being a two-time winner of the award himself (once for Harry’s House, the album that she had written with him), it shouldn’t have surprised YN as much as it did that Harry would be presenting the award.

Knowing that her chances to win were so likely, YN had wondered if it was sort of a set-up. Whoever had decided to ask Harry to do so knew of their past and knew that it would make a lovely bit of new gossip. That was unfortunately where YN’s mind went, and that’s what stressed her out slightly. Especially since her album was so open about her feelings, and even more so about Harry and their relationship – this wasn’t something that she would have ever asked for.

“I’ve just spent so long… so long, Viv, trying to change the narrative of my life,” YN sighs, now starting to pick at the polish on her nails, “And him being there, after I’ve spent so long trying to reclaim my story for me, I’m just scared of how I’m going to react. I don’t want this to be the thing that spirals me right back to the person I was.”

Vivienne sighed, shaking her head, and lifting their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of YN’s hand, “YN… you are not the person you were back then. Trust me, I was right there with you. I mean… God, if that man tries to say anything to me I might lose my shit, but you won’t lose yours. You’ve grown, you’ve matured and most importantly you’ve forgiven yourself. You thought you needed him – but you didn’t.”

YN nodded her head, wanting nothing more than to accept Vivienne’s words and believe them. She hoped she would at least that her face convinced Viv that she was believing her words. The truth was when YN reflected on that time of her life (mostly when she had finished writing her newest record), there were parts of her that wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t reacted the way she had. It was mostly what would have happened to her and Harry if they had handled the situation differently. Because, to YN at that part of her life (and sometimes now) she felt as though Harry was going to be it for her. That she was his, and he was hers.

YN truly did think that she was going to spend the rest of her life with Harry. He saw her and loved her through her hardest times, and yet it was when her life was truly starting to get back on track that she lost her faith in him. It hurt her soul and truly sent her spiralling through the idea that she could only ever be loved when she was broken – and it took her a long time to realise that wasn’t the case.

“It’s just… I think..” YN shook her head, struggling to articulate the words that were swimming around in her head, “My message, especially with this album, is so much more than what we were and what happened to us… I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” It was Pamela that spoke up this time, from the makeup chair, “You are going to do what you do best, YN, you are going to dodge and dive any of the sleazy questions and hold yourself with grace and fucking win that Grammy. You can even thank him for breaking your heart because it made you stronger, and it made you the person you are today.”

YN smiles, trying her best not to tear up and ruin the makeup that Claude had worked so hard on, “You’re right… it’s my day, not his. And anyway, it’s been so long since we last spoke that I honestly doubt he’s even thought about me.”

“He has,” Vivienne nods, “I know you haven’t listened to his albums – but I have. Trust me, he has.”

“God,” YN’s eyes widen, “Don’t say that! That makes me more nervous!”

Vivienne shakes her head, “No, nope, not letting you do that. Come on, I’m going to do your hair, then you’re going to put your pretty little dress on, and we are going to go and win that award.”

YN knew that it was silly, but if she had these girls behind her – she could do anything she put her mind to.

Chicago, 1975 – 5 minutes after the concert

“YN!” YN didn’t listen to Harry’s calls of her name as she stormed off stage. She had no idea where she was going or what she was doing, but all she knew was that she had to get far away. Far away from Harry, far away from Mary and far away from everyone who would know that something was wrong, “YN! Stop walking away from me!”

“Why would I listen to anything you say anymore?” YN scoffs, wiping the tears from off her wet cheeks. She turned down a hallway and realised that it was a dead end. She stopped and sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get away from him now – and also that they would have to have this conversation where anyone could hear them.

“I need to explain, YN,” Harry sighs from behind her, but she still doesn’t turn to look at him, “Let me explain, please.”

That’s the thing when you love someone – even when they fuck up, you can’t say no to them. That was what YN was struggling with. This man had hurt her, done something inexcusable to her and yet he wanted her to listen, and she was going to do that. It was just who she was, and it’s just what love is.

YN turned to face Harry, slightly shocked at the sight of his reddened face matching hers, “Explain then. Try and explain what I saw!”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “It wasn’t what it looked like at all – she came on to me. I would never do this to you, you know that!”

“You only pushed her off because I was there!” YN exclaimed, “To me, it looked like you would have had ample opportunity to walk away, to push her away to say fucking no, Harry, but she was still on you!”

“I tried, YN, I fucking tried,” Harry claimed, clearly becoming more exasperated by the second, “She was coked out of her fucking mind! She was high, and on an adrenaline rush and there was no stopping her without hurting her!”

“Then fucking hurt her, Harry,” YN points her finger in his direction, “You were supposed to be mine. Mine. Not hers. I fucking knew she was up to something, and I never said a word because I trusted you! I trusted you more than I trusted myself.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Harry shakes his head, “Blame this all on me. Tell me to hurt her and that she was up to something but not once in any of that did you come to me and tell me that!”

“Oh, good one,” YN chuckles, “I didn’t fucking tell you Harry because I trusted you! And I also thought you had eyes and a pretty good eye for this shit. You should’ve fired her months ago, and you know it. The drugs, the booze, the partying – it’s not who you associate with!”

“I associated with you.”

His words stop YN right in her tracks. She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying to her. She had thought that he would’ve never, ever, put her past against her like that and here he was.

“You did,” YN nodded, “You helped me and loved me when I didn’t know I needed that. All I could hope is that you seeing me like that, loving me like that would make you realise that you shouldn’t be around people like that.”

“She’s a good fucking singer, YN, the crowd responds to her. You’re saying I’m just supposed to fire her because she’s an addict? – come off your fucking high horse.”

“No,” YN shakes her head, “I’m telling you that firing her would have been the right option so that she could get help. This life is not the life that addicts need, you and I both know that. You’re enabling her, allowing her delusions to run, and hurting me in the process! You let her get on top of you, let her kiss you. At no point did you think why? Why does she have the confidence to do this to taken man? It’s because she has no inhibitions, no awareness of her actions!”

“So this is all her fault, yeah? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying it’s your fault,” YN took a step forward, pointing her finger against his chest, “You should have realised, you should have put a stop to it. But, now I’m thinking you didn’t want to. Now I’m thinking that you didn’t mind someone coming in and ruining our relationship in this way. I don’t know maybe I wasn’t giving you enough attention, maybe I was getting bigger than you could handle now I’m sober – maybe I don’t ride your dick good enough, I don’t fucking know!”

Harry goes silent, obviously stumped at the girl’s words. Unfortunately for him, that gave YN everything that she needed to know. In her head, all she could think was that he was understanding her, and he wasn’t seeing this from her perspective.

“She hasn’t come in and ruined our relationship, YN,” Harry sighs, shaking his head, “She hasn’t ruined our relationship, you’re the one doing that by not listening to me.”

YN gasps, and that’s it. She lifts her arms and pushes past Harry. He tries to reach out for her, but she pulls away from him.

“YN, you can’t walk away from this,” He calls from behind her, but YN carries on walking. She storms through the hallways, brushing past people lingering in the hallway and hoping that none of them would stop her.

Despite Harry’s calls of her name and the fact that this place is like a fucking maze YN somehow manages to find herself outside. The only problem was Harry had followed her. YN fumbles with her cigarette carton in her pocket and despite her shaking hands she manages to light one.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” Harry asks, throwing his arms open.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” She retorts, raising her eyebrow at him.

He shrugs, “What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m fucking sorry YN.”

YN nods, letting the words settle for a minute. She’d seen this man sorry before, she knew what he was feeling and knew the signs of his true feelings. Whatever he was saying, and trying to express right now she knew wasn’t him. She didn’t know who he was.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” YN shakes her head, “I’m going back to the hotel, packing my shit and going home – I’ll see you in L.A.”

YN turns and walks away, ignoring Harry’s calls to her. The fact that he dared to shout that she was the one leaving this relationship and not working on it as she walked away was crazy to her, and yet here he was. She knew that being on the road changed people, but she didn’t think that it would change him this much. He was her everything, and now she didn’t even want to look him in the eye.

There was always a part of her that thought this was too good to be true, and something was going to ruin it. She would be lying if she said that she didn’t think she would be the one guilty of such, but it seems like it was him that caused this and seemingly had little to no remorse for his actions.

As much as it was going to be difficult, she couldn’t let this ruin her tour. More so, she wasn’t going to let it ruin her life. She had worked too fucking hard.

The second that their car arrives on the carpet, YN knows that everything that she was feeling and all of the memories that had been brought to the surface had to be pushed away. This was her night, one to celebrate with her band and her friends and not bring anything from the past up at all.

Out of all of the awards shows she has been to, YN pulled out all of the stops. The dress she had decided upon was a forest green, one which complimented her darkening hair. It had layers and lace, draping around her arms but allowing her figure to be shown at the same time. Vivienne had styled her hair to perfection, just as the girl always does. Even though Vivienne wasn’t a hairstylist by trade, there wasn’t a single person that YN would trust with her hair besides Vivienne. The last and final touch to her outfit was her cowboy boots and despite Vivienne’s protests when she pulled them on – they truly made her feel like herself.

YN isn’t even two metres onto the carpet before a camera is thrust in her face, a reporter standing by, ready to ask her question upon a question that YN had no control over. It was only in the latter years of her career that she found herself truly in the hands of the media. If her name was mentioned before, she wasn’t in a state of mind to know anything of it.

“YN, it’s your first Grammy Awards, how are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The reporter asks, thrusting a microphone into her face before she can even think properly.

“Uh,” YN hesitates for a moment before a small smile crosses her lips, “A bit of both of those, I think. It’s an honour to be invited and nominated at that, but it’s also a little nerve-wracking in the same sense. All I do know is that each person who is nominated deserves that win, and even if it isn’t me I’ll still be grateful for the invitation.”

“How do you feel about reuniting with someone from your past today? Harry Styles. I’m sure you’re aware that he’s announcing your category?”

YN’s heart starts to beat ten times quicker, her palms sweating, but she’s thanking God for all of the media training that she’d been given over the years, “I admire Harry so much as an artist, and has won the category twice before – I can’t name anyone more deserving to present the category.”

The reporter doesn’t look too impressed by her answer, but with more thanks to the reporter and a nod from Vivienne, she decides it’s probably time to move on and get inside. YN immediately links her arm with Vivienne’s and tries to calm her breathing down.

“Was that okay? I think I fully blanked for a second there,” YN mutters the second that they are out of earshot of anybody but the two of them, “I honestly think I just spewed absolute shit at them.”

“It was absolute shit,” Vivienne nodded, pushing one of YN’s curls over her shoulder, “But, as far as PR think it was probably absolutely perfect shit.”

The two girls share a giggle. Pamela joins them a few seconds later, having just come out of her interview, and feels a similar level of confusion and delusion to YN. They take some more photos just as they enter the building, and even though there are calls from left and right for photos of YN on her own – she doesn’t stray from her girls. She could’ve, and she knows that in the future, she might regret not having one fully alone on the carpet – but now, the idea of having to stand on her own without Vivienne or Pamela to hold her up was unbearable.

Once they make it inside the building, YN fully intends to beeline straight towards the drinks. She needed something to chug down to get rid of the cottonmouth she currently had. It wasn’t going to be alcohol, and she certainly knew that – but anything would have been better than the feeling that currently was in her mouth.

“Can I have a glass of water, please? Or soda? Or anything without alcohol?” The bartender looks at her confused, as though he wasn’t suspecting anybody to ask for anything non-alcoholic that evening. YN had offered the man a short but sweet smile in thanks, knowing that if she had opened her mouth she might have said something that she would later come to regret, and beelined straight for where Vivienne and Pamela were waiting for her.

“I can wholeheartedly say I have never wished to drink more than I did in that second,” YN mutters with a shake of her head as she stops in front of the two women, “And it’s not for the sake of I wanted a buzz, no it was for the fact that man had sixteen glasses of champagne ready and not a single glass of fucking water!”

“Okay,” Vivienne reached over and placed her hand on Vivienne’s free hand, as the other was currently lifting the glass of water to her lips, “I think the nerves are probably getting the better of us, and drinking is not the solution to that.”

“I’m not going to do it,” YN sighs, dropping the now empty glass back down on the bar, “Have more faith in me than that, it just crossed my mind, that’s all – for ease.”

YN doesn’t notice the partners share a look, one that they both know exactly what that means, and what they are to do. They knew wholeheartedly that this was just YN’s nerves talking, and the second that they got her distracted and sitting down it would all be okay.

“Did I tell you about the man who got in touch the other day?” Vivienne started, immediately realising that she was about to be chatting absolute shit to her friend, but it was better than to let Vivienne sit in a ball of her stress.

“No,” YN shakes her head, accepting another glass of water from the bartender, “What man?”

“Yeah… what man?” Pamela mutters, her entire face pursed with confusion. Vivienne kicks her slightly under the table, “Oh, yeah, that man! How about we walk and talk?”

Vivienne started to rattle on to her about a man who had come into her gallery and asked her question upon question without seeming to be interested in buying anything. It became obvious to YN further on in the conversation that the man wanted to ask Viv on a date, and she had to be the one to break the news that she was in a committed relationship. Even though Vivienne was rattling on, YN knew why she was doing so. It was to distract YN from the thoughts, and more so from the impending reunion that was on the horizon.

Vivienne rattled on until they got to their seats and continued even when they had sat down. It was funny to YN, that these two women would do anything for her, and she would do anything for them – and that included making a story that certainly wasn’t as interesting as they were making it seem so for YN’s sake.

YN was repeatedly kicking herself internally for the fact that every time her eyes darted around the room, there was one person that she was thinking specifically about. The thing that YN didn’t want to face was not being in control when she saw him again. She had learnt so much about how to control herself recently, and that would send her spiralling right back to a place that she didn’t want to be.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” YN spoke once there was a lilt in the conversation, “Don’t want to be needed a piss in the middle of the awards.”

“Okay,” Vivienne nodded, knowing that some time by herself might be what YN needs right now just to centre herself, “Do you need us to come with?”

“No,” YN offers her a smile, “I’ll only be a minute or two.”

When YN weaved her way through the corridors to the bathroom, it was made abundantly clear to her that her time in the bathroom would be spent sitting on a closed toilet rather than doing anything. After a few minutes, she left the cubicle to glance at herself in the mirror and make sure that her makeup and hair still looked okay.

Once she was happy with herself and felt calmer than she did it was the perfect time to make her way back to the awards and hope that it all went smoother.

Just as YN had turned out of the bathroom door, a smile on her face finally – it was made obvious straight away that it wasn’t to last long. That was because standing a few feet away from her was Harry. He was dressed to the nines in a full pinstripe suit, one hand resting in his pocket as he walked towards her.

YN froze completely, unable to move or breathe or simply function. It was a second or so later that Harry noticed her as well, and his movements came to a stop also. His face dropped, just as hers had. It was the first time in ten years that they had been face to face, the last time being the night of her final performance in L.A., when their relationship had ended completely. Even though it had been ten years, when Harry opened his mouth to speak to her, she felt as though she was right back in that moment and that all of the work she had didn’t matter anymore.

“Hi.”

L.A., 1975 – The last performance of YN’s tour

To say that YN was ready for this tour to finish was an understatement.

There was nothing she loved more than performing her songs for the people who loved them – but with everything that was going on behind the scenes, she just wanted to go home and be with Vivienne and Pamela.

Her band had been doing her fucking head in the entire time, not the girls, mainly the boys, but they were all at fault. It was her simple rules, and they seemed to just not understand the consequences of what happens when they break them. It was why for the first time in a while, YN walked into the green room with a certain skip in her step.

The band was lounged around, empty cans and packets of coke on every surface, but YN was past the point of caring. This was their last night together, and she was not embarrassed to say that she was excited to break that news to them.

“Last night,” YN sighed as she dropped down against the sofa, crossing one of her legs over the other (her cowboy boots sat comfortably on her feet), “I didn’t think we’d get here but we have.”

There was a slight chuckle in the room, and then there was a silence. It was a bittersweet moment. This tour had been one of the best and worst times of her life, and there were only so many words in the English language to explain that.

“I’m not one for many words, as you all know,” YN starts before she hears a snigger from one of the boys.

“Unless you’re fucking complaining about some shit.”

A laugh spreads through the room, and even YN is guilty of a smile spreading across her face.

“Normally complaining about you two just being fucking idiots,” She retorts with a smile, “That’s why I’m happy and relieved to say that this is our last show of this tour, and our last show together… because if I ever do this again, it isn’t going to be with any of you.”

For once, the room is silent, and YN feels a wave of accomplishment rush through her veins.

“Now, let’s go and put on the best fucking show of this tour.”

YN turned to walk out of the room, an ever-present smile still resting on her face. Despite what this show was, and what was consequently going to happen because of this – there was at least this positive for her to focus on. As YN prepared to go on stage, standing on the sidelines and hearing the screams and shouts of the people who were here to see her, she realised that nothing was going to ruin today.

“You ready, babes?” Vivienne smiles from behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

YN sighs but nods, “I am… is he here?”

Vivienne’s eyes never leave YN’s, but a wave of sadness washes over them, and she nods, “He’s in a green room with his band.”

YN nods. Since that night in Pittsburgh, there’s been no communication between herself, and Harry and she was glad about that. Everything had gone through management, and YN thought that was the best way to do it. It was strange to think that she would be seeing him in the flesh soon, and singing with him once again but it was probably for the best that she hadn’t thought about it at all.

“If you see him, tell him not to be shit,” YN says and Vivienne chuckles, reaching out to give YN’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t you worry,” Vivienne shakes her head, “If I see him, I’ll be saying a whole lot more to him.”

YN just rolls her eyes but is appreciative of her friend, and she knows that Vivienne knows that, too. When YN had first called Vivienne to explain what had happened, Vivienne was ready to jump on a flight and speak her mind to Harry. Once YN had gotten over her initial anger at the situation, Vivienne was there for her throughout the sadness, too. When she needed to cry, Vivienne was always there at the end of the phone to be there for her.

The two girls shared one last hug before it was time for YN to go on stage, to finish the tour that might have actually been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t loved it as well.

Telling her band that she was firing them before the last show could have gone one of two ways. Fortunately for YN, it had gone a better way than many would have expected. They were good at what they did, and they all (she was including herself in this) played the best that they had the entire tour. There was an energy from the crowd that was palpable, and it seemed to be wearing off on the band as well as herself. It was a damn good show if she said so herself.

Just as she was coming to the last song on her set, she received a nod from the side of the stage saying that it was time. Time for her to welcome a guest on to stage, and to pretend in front of thousands of people that this man hadn’t just broke her heart.

Once the cheering has subsided, YN tucked her hair behind her ears and addressed the crowd, knowing it was better to do so like she was ripping a band-aid off rather than drawing it out.

“Now, it’s coming up to the point where we have to say goodnight,” YN smiles, hearing a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd, “And before we do say goodnight, I thought… since it’s the last night of our tour, and you’ve been such an amazing crowd that I’d surprise you all… Now, this guest, he’s someone that’s very special to me. I haven’t seen him, or spoken to him in a while… but he has my heart, and he should always know that… Now, please put your hands together for Mr. Harry Styles!”

There’s a moment where YN doesn’t want to turn to look at Harry, in fact she just wants to ignore that he’s there all together – but she knows she can’t do that. Once she does turn to look at him, she’s shocked at what she sees. It still looks like him, the man that she loved with all of her heart, but he looks worn out, and tired and quite possibly heartbroken.

The band starts to play Cherry and all of a sudden she’s transported back to that night. Everything that happened, everything that he did, everything that she felt rushed back to her body, and flooded every one of her thoughts. It was difficult to keep her composure, and even more difficult not to turn and look at him, but she couldn’t. Not when she had a show to put on, and a tour to finish.

“Don’t you call him [me] baby/ We’re not talking lately.”

As the song was drawing to a close, YN realised that she had to look at Harry. Now that her initial anger and upset had passed, he needed to see how she felt. He needed to see how he had hurt her.

It wasn’t in YN’s plan to change the lyrics, but she couldn’t help herself. A song that Harry and herself had written all those years ago was now resonating in their life in a way that neither one of them could’ve expected.

“Don’t you call her what you used to call me.”

Harry stopped singing when he noticed what she had done, and even with thousands of people in the room it felt as though it was only the two of them, once more, just as it had been on that night. Instead of an anger running through her veins, YN felt sadness, a heaviness. She was grieving the man she knew and the life that she had envisioned for herself because in that moment she realised it was over… for good.

“Thank you all, you’ve been amazing!” YN snapped herself out of her trance and turned back to the crowd, “Thank you for having me, and I’m sure we’ll see you all soon!”

With once last smile and wave to the crowd, YN turned and walked off the stage, leaving her band and Harry standing there. She wasn’t necessarily proud of this action, but it was needed. It was her time to leave this tour, and these feelings in the past – and there was one more thing that she needed to do to ensure that.

“When Harry comes off, tell him to come to my dressing room,” She spoke to Jeff as she walked past him, offering him a small smile as she did.

“Of course.” He replied with a nod.

She paced in the room for a few seconds and then the door opened behind her. She turned, and he was there. It was strange, she had imagined what this conversation was going to be like so many times in her head and now that he was here, she couldn’t think of any of it. All she knew was that she needed to tell him how she felt.

“YN…”

“No,” YN shook her head, biting the side of her lip and resting her hands upon her hips, “I need you to listen to me… and I need you to listen carefully,” There was a slight pause where she had to compose herself from crying, “I love you, and I still love you and I probably always will… but, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t… you couldn’t see it from my perspective, and I don’t know if you ever will, but I know that for myself, I can’t wait and find out.”

“YN…” There were tears in his eyes.

There were now tears in hers, “I will never be able to get that image out of my head, and what you said… It hurt me. I love you and I want you to know that… but we’re over.”

A silence washes over them, as though both of them were coming to terms with what she was saying.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know what else I can say but I love you.”

“I just saw him,” YN says the second she sits down with Pam and Viv.

Vivienne almost spits out her drink, and Pamela’s mouth drops open, “What do you mean?”

“He was there when I left the bathroom,” YN shook her head, “I just stared at him. I didn’t even say anything.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Vivienne asks and YN nods her head.

“He said ‘Hi’ and then I bolted back here,” YN places her head in the palm of her hands, “I knew that I was going to see him, but I thought it was at least going to be in this room, or when he gets on stage – not after I had a piss.”

Vivienne wraps her arm around YN, “The show’s about to start. Put it out of your mind. You’ve got a Grammy to win.”

That’s exactly what (with a little bit of inner strength) she did. The show started, and awards were given out, and the clock was ticking until it was her category. She kept herself looking cool, calm, and collected to anyone glancing at her, but inside, her heart was racing out of her chest.

“Your next babes,” Vivienne grabbed YN’s hand from the side of her, “Whatever happens, I just want to tell you that I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

YN’s eyebrows lifted, tears collecting in her waterline, “Stop it… or I’ll cry before it even starts.”

“Don’t you worry, babes…” Vivienne squeezed her hand tighter, “I’ll wipe your snot before you go on stage.”

YN rolled her eyes, and the girls shared a chuckle. It was then that the lights dimmed. A round of applause started, and the spotlight hit the stage. Harry was dressed in the same pinstripe suit as she had seen him a few hours before. He stood on the stage, his arms crossed in front of him and a smile on his lips. It wasn’t the smile that YN remembered in her dreams, the one where his dimples and his teeth lit up the world – but it was him.

“As a recipient of this award myself, I am honoured to announce this category today,” he said, cool, calm, and collected, “As much as I’m sure you would all love to hear me chat away, I think it’s probably better for everyone that we get to it. The nominees are…”

YN blanks out as the names are read, but when he speaks her name for the first time in years, she almost melts. It was strange that her body had such a visceral reaction to something that she hadn’t ever thought about before.

“And… the Grammy goes to…” Harry speaks, opening the envelope. It was then that a beaming smile crossed his face, “YN YLN!”

A gasp left her lips, a high-pitched buzz filling her ears. There was a part of her that didn’t believe it, but when she saw Vivienne’s teary-eyed face staring at her – she knew it was real. The girl, who was usually cool, calm and collected was sobbing so forcefully that YN was slightly scared for her.

“I told you, babes!” Once YN pushes herself up from her seat, Vivienne pounces on her in a hug, “I knew it was going to be you!”

“I…” YN shakes her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You need to go,” Vivienne places her hands on YN’s cheeks and nods, “Take Pam, and go. Get your fucking Grammy babes.”

YN nods and reaches for Pam’s hand, whose face looks the same as YN does. There was a flash of disbelief as well as pure shock on both the girl’s faces. YN squeezes Pam’s hand as tightly as she can, trying to centre herself as well as be there for the other woman as they walk towards the stage. It’s then that YN hears the clapping from the crowd, and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to burst out into tears.

Then she sees him.

He was standing at the front of the stage, the award clutched in his hand, but at that point, it was almost as though the award didn’t matter. The smile on his face was the one she saw in her dreams when she closed her eyes and thought back to that time of her life. When she doesn’t want to think of the heartbreak or the hardship, when she wants to think of the overwhelming love she felt and had in her body. That was the Harry that she saw standing there, the one who first asked her to come on stage and sing his song with him, the man who gave her everything.

If it wasn’t for Pamela pulling her up the stairs, she would’ve ceased moving altogether. Once she had come to a stop in front of him, he held the award out to her.

“Well done.”

“Thank you.”

That was all she could say before she was pushed in front of a microphone. Pamela tried to slip out of YN’s hand, but she pulled Pamela right to the side of her.

“I hadn’t expected this,” YN chuckles into the microphone, “So I’m sorry if I forget anyone or anything. I think… I want to thank my team, my band, and Pamela in particular, who stayed with me all of those nights when I couldn’t give up and had to finish even though everyone else had left… I want to thank everyone in my life who saw me at my lowest and pushed me to my best. Vivienne. I want to thank you for forever being my best friend, my sister, and my family. This is for you and for everything you’ve ever done for me… and, uh, Harry. I, uh, want to thank you for seeing something in me that night at your show and asking me on that stage… I wouldn’t be here without that. Thank you so much, I’ll keep this forever close to my heart.”

Even though he was standing right next to YN, she couldn’t look at him. When she had given her speech, some thought earlier on in the day, the thought of thanking Harry hadn’t even crossed her mind. Looking back, she assumed it was because she was too nervous to see him that thanking him in her speech hadn’t even crossed her mind. Once she had deemed that seeing him hadn’t been as bad as she expected it to be (minus the stress and also rehashing of memories that she had wanted nothing more than to forget), it was like her brain couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.

Music started playing around her, and she saw this as her cue to leave the stage. Grabbing Pamela’s hand, she pulled them off the side of the stage, where she guessed that she was going to have her photo taken.

Just as she started to make her way down the steps, she felt something tug the end of her dress, and she nearly went toppling forward down them. A hand grabbed onto her elbow, steadying her. She turned, and there he was, a concerned look on his face.

“Keep going,” He nodded, “It’s okay.”

Then she felt the skirt of her dress lift, and she didn’t have to worry anymore.

“If it was up to me, you would’ve won for your very first,” A man who YN knew as some studio executive was standing in front of her. There was a strong smell emanating from his person, and the empty glass in his hand, YN assumed it was whisky, “It’s the studio’s fault for not nominating you. I would’ve done that straight away. You would be on your fourth, even fifth nomination and win by now.”

“It wasn’t the studio’s fault,” YN offered him with a small smile, trying to be polite and not as though this was the fiftieth conversation she’d had like this since she arrived, “It was mine. I was in recovery. They couldn’t have nominated me even if they wanted to.”

“Oh,” He seemed surprised, “Anyway, if you ever do fancy a switch in studios, gimme a call.”

“I won’t,” YN offers another smile, “But thanks for the offer.”

YN turns, and spots Vivienne and Pamela coming back and drinks it hand. It happens every time they leave or every time they even turn their back on YN for a second. YN was so proud of herself for having won, but if this was what she was going to get from here on out, she was going to have to mentally prepare herself for such.

“Here is your water, winner,” Vivienne passed her the glass with a smile on her face, and YN rolled her eyes at the girl’s antics.

“Are you going to stop with that already?” YN accepted it and placed the chilled glass against her face, flushing from the heat in the room.

Vivienne shrugs, “I will… once the novelty has worn off.”

YN just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “I’m going outside for a cigarette, it’s too hot in here.”

“Okay, winner,” YN shakes her head once more, seeing as though Pamela had decided to join in on her girlfriend’s antics as well.

“You’re a winner too, Pam, don’t forget that.”

YN placed a kiss on Pam and Viv’s cheeks before making her way towards the glass doors that opened to a balcony. They were at some fancy hotel that YN assumed she had been at before in her life but couldn’t remember either due to being high or so exhausted that she didn’t know where she was. Once she stepped outside, though, she realised that she had been here before, and it was on neither one of those occasions. It was after that tour had ended, the one where she had broken up with Harry. There had been a party to celebrate the end, and it was here. YN only remembered the view because instead of being inside celebrating, she had been out here, sitting watching the skyline pass by her.

YN pulled her cigarettes out of her bag, slipping one between her lips and lighting it. It seemed like a coincidence that she was here now after so much had changed. She stood, leant against the railing just as she had that night prior, and looked out at the skyline – this time a Grammy winner, but she would not say any less heartbroken.

“Congratulations,” YN didn’t jump at the sound of a voice behind her, but her eyes closed when she realised who it was, “I didn’t get to say that before.”

“You did,” YN mumbles, exhaling smoke as she did so, “On stage.”

He stops and leans against the railing next to her, taking his own cigarette out. She doesn’t turn to look at him but once she does she just nods her head.  

“What’s your plan now? Going to write another?” He asks, turning on his side slightly so that his body is facing hers.

YN just shrugged, turning her body so that she was facing him as well, “I don’t know. What about you?”

Harry sighs, nodding his head slightly, “I’m taking a break. Going back to London, going to spend some time with my family. Gem’s getting married in the summer, and I want to be there.”

“Pass on my congratulations to her,” YN nods, “A break sounds nice. I mean, it’s been ten years for me must be twelve, thirteen for you.”

“Thirteen,” He nods, running a hand over his face, “I need to slow down, I’m not getting any younger here.”

YN exhales a laugh, “We all know that’s the truth… and in hindsight, I don’t think a break is ever on the cards for me. As long as I’m breathing, I’ll probably be making music.”

YN had said it before, and she’d say it again – as long as she was making music that people enjoyed, she’d do it for as long as they let her.

“Speaking of music…” He looks away from her for a second and back out onto the skyline, “You didn’t have to thank me in your speech… I know it probably wasn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever done.”

YN just shakes her head, turning to look at him even though he wasn’t looking at her, “It was just the truth. I truly would not be here if it wasn’t for you. Without you pulling me on that stage that night, God I dread to think what my life would look like. I’d probably be in some unhappy marriage, with a husband who I hate and kids that hate me – just like my parents.”

Harry finally turned to look at her, “It was nothing.”

YN shakes her head once more, “It wasn’t.”

Harry clears his throat, “I know… I know I’ve done this before, and I know last time it didn’t go the way that I wanted it to, okay? But YN, I swear to you… I am so sorry about everything that happened. Looking back, you were right. I was enabling her, and not only that, but I was also hurting you in the process. I can never forgive myself for that… and I’d understand if you never forgave me as well.”

YN sighs, immediately feeling tears starting to well within her eyes, “It’s okay… it’s been too long now, it’s water under the bridge.”

As YN spoke, her voice cracked. She hadn’t realised that even though her mind knew what she wanted to say, her body betrayed her. She hadn’t realised what was building within her as he spoke, even more so when she did.

When she turned to him, there were tears in his eyes just as they were in hers. Standing here, with him after all of those years – no matter how much he had hurt her, there was a part of her that still loved him. She loved him, the life he gave her, the memories they had – the way he made her feel. She tried not to go back to that chapter of her life if she could help it, to stop the pain from resurfacing, but oftentimes, it was the memories of love that she welcomed the most.

Harry dropped his cigarette down on the floor, squashing it with his heel so that it was out. YN turned to him once more, watching as a tear slipped down his face. He immediately reached up and wiped it off his cheek.

“Listen, YN, if you ever do fancy that break London’s just a plane ride away,” He turned as though he was going to walk away, but then he stopped and turned back around, “And I’m always just a phone call away.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

[plague-of-insomnia]

WIP Wednesday: Sebardagni 1920s AU: Snippet - Bard meets Ruby

I'm back on my business hoping 2025 is finally the year I get to fill your lives with tons of kuro rarepair AU content!

Here's another scene from my 1920s sebardagni AU that has been floating around in my mind for months and that I was finally able to write the other day.

It's the first of two scenes in which Bard meets Sebastian, aka "Ruby," for the first time, and he's immediately smitten--even after he realizes "Ruby" is a man.

About this AU:

Sebardagni, multichapter, 1920s AU, Human Sebastian, Disabled Sebastian

Set in the US during the 1920s when Prohibition of alcohol was at its peak. Sebastian has a mysterious past that becomes central to the story as it unfolds, but when it begins works out of his apartment as a music tutor and at night performs at Undertaker's speakeasy. That's where he meets Bard, who was left aimless after the end of WWI, and now works as a bouncer for Undertaker in his club. Agni (who isn't in this snippet) is a doctor and who was living with Sebastian when Bard and he met.

*the image above is a preview of a comic by @luci-on-the-moon that will be revealed later

Enjoy, and if this is an AU you're interested in, let me know!

~#~

A hush fell over the entire club as all attention fixed on the piano, which played a simple, tinkling melody that seemed to float through the air like a mist. In the center of it all, spotlight illuminating, was Ruby, dress and jewels the color of her namesake glittering in the light. She was even more beautiful than Bard had imagined she’d be based on everything he’d heard. Her long, luxurious black hair draped over her shoulders, not chopped short like was the fashion, and Bard wondered if, despite the fact she was singing in an underground club run by a shady character like Undertaker, she might be a traditional, classy girl. Her lips were full and lashes long, with skin like fresh cream that Bard longed to touch. But then the piano swelled and she began to sing, and suddenly the entire world around Bard faded away into the soulful sound that cradled him like a warm embrace after years at war. “What’ll I do? When you are far away and I am blue.“ Bard’s mouth went dry as he listened, ash falling from his cigarette as he remained enraptured, as if Ruby were a siren mesmerizing him with her song. The melody was simple, letting the richness of her singing shine through. Bard could feel the emotion she was pouring into every word as she sang sadly of the lover she would never see again. The music crescendoed as Ruby leaned back on the piano, her long legs peaking from the slit in her unfashionably long dress. Though it fit her like God himself had made it for her, so Bard wasn’t about to complain. She wasn’t curvy, but she had a magnetism that made her beauty radiate. “What’ll I do with just a photograph—” She dropped her gaze, those captivating long lashes brushing her cheeks, and when she lifted it again, Bard could have sworn she was looking straight at him. “—to tell my troubles to?” Ruby smiled, amused, but only for a fleeting moment as she continued the song, heartbreak hovering in every note, “When I’m alone, with all the dreams of you that won’t come true. . .” Ruby paused, and so did the music, to let the audience hang on every single second, waiting for her to finish. She stared down at her legs, her voice shifting so that Bard would have sworn she were on the brink of tears. “What’ll I do?” The final chord played and the speakeasy erupted into whistling and clapping, most of the crowd jumping to their feet. But all Bard’s attention was still fixed on Ruby, her red dress glittering as she shifted, blowing kisses to the crowd and winking occasionally before the spotlight slid to the left and the MC began introducing the next performance. As much as he wanted to keep his gaze fixed on her until the last moment, when she disappeared backstage, a fight broke out to Bard’s right. which meant he had a job to do. But after his shift ended, he was gonna pay Ruby a visit.

[lurking-loaf]

Advanced piñata techniques as demonstrated by Moon

Day 4 of DCA Promptober - bells

[hurtblossom]

Crush ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : Quadrant has a new videographer

Warnings : Angst, quite long, bad english, Lando being clueless (as always)

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she was here—working for Quadrant, his brand. When she’d gotten the offer, she had hesitated for a moment, unsure if being this close to Lando Norris would be a good idea. She’d been a fan of his for years, following his career from his early F1 days, her admiration growing with every race and every glimpse of his playful, goofy personality online. Somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something more—a quiet, unspoken crush she’d never dreamed of acting on.

But when the opportunity to join Quadrant as a videographer came up, she couldn’t resist. It was a chance to work with an incredible team, hone her skills, and, well, maybe get to know Lando a little better. Not that he’d notice her, she thought wryly. Lando Norris didn’t seem like the type to look twice at someone like her.

Her first day on set, she was practically buzzing with nerves. Max had introduced her to the team, and everyone had been friendly, welcoming her into the fold. But Lando? He hadn’t even glanced her way. Too busy cracking jokes with Max and Ria, his energy filling the room like a spotlight she could never step into.

Still, she stayed in the background, focusing on her work, capturing the chaos of the group with her camera. That was her job, after all—to be invisible, to let the team shine while she stayed behind the lens. She told herself it was better this way. No awkward introductions, no chance to embarrass herself. But even as she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at him, her heart skipping every time he laughed or flashed that signature grin.

The shoot that day was arcade basketball, and the Quadrant crew was in rare form—teasing, shouting, and turning everything into a competition. Lando was at the center of it all, of course, trash-talking Max one second and tossing a ball wildly off-target the next. (Y/N) stayed behind her camera, quietly capturing every moment, trying not to let her smile show too much.

It wasn’t until halfway through the shoot that Lando finally noticed her.

“Who’s that?” he asked loudly, pointing at her mid-throw. The basketball clattered off the rim as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Max rolled his eyes. “She’s been here all day, mate. That’s (Y/N). She’s our new videographer.”

“New videographer?” Lando repeated, his brow furrowing. He walked over, tossing the ball to the side. “And no one told me?”

“I assumed you’d notice,” Max shot back with a grin.

Lando ignored him, stopping in front of her with an apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Lando. Welcome to Quadrant.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the camera like a lifeline. Up close, he was even more magnetic, his warm eyes and easy smile making her heart race. “Hi. I’m (Y/N),” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, tilting his head. “Wow, I didn’t even notice. That’s impressive.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That’s kind of the goal.”

Lando chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, glad to have you. Hope you’re ready for this lot—they’re a handful.”

“She’s already handling it better than you would,” Ria teased, earning another round of laughter.

(Y/N) smiled, relaxing slightly as the group’s banter filled the room again. But as Lando walked back to his game, she couldn’t help feeling the way her cheeks burned, her mind replaying the brief moment they’d shared.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, but (Y/N) found it increasingly hard to concentrate with Lando in her peripheral vision. Every joke he cracked, every time he glanced her way, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she was being ridiculous—he was just being friendly, just doing his job. But still, she couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

After the shoot, as the team started packing up, Lando approached her again. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for today. You did great.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. “You guys made it easy. You’re all… pretty entertaining.”

He grinned. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

She laughed softly, feeling a bit bolder. “Well, I’ve seen worse basketball skills, if that helps.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. First day and already roasting me. I like it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, her nerves melting under his playful energy. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, the rest of the team fading into the background. But then Max called out, breaking the moment, and Lando gave her a quick nod before heading off, leaving her heart racing.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/N) settled into her role, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. She captured every wild moment, every inside joke, and every ridiculous stunt with precision, earning praise from everyone—including Lando. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to ignore her feelings.

He was just so… him. Funny, charming, effortlessly confident. She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control, her quiet admiration growing with every shared laugh and fleeting glance.

But she kept her feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he found out. To him, she was just the camera girl, part of the team but always on the edges. And she told herself that was enough, even as her heart ached for more.

One evening, after a long day of filming, the team had dispersed, leaving just her and Lando in the studio. She was reviewing footage on her laptop when he wandered over, leaning against the table beside her.

“Got anything good?” he asked, peering at the screen.

She smiled, tilting the laptop so he could see. “Plenty of missed shots and bad jokes. Pretty standard.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s Quadrant for you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the footage play. But then Lando turned to her, his expression softer than usual. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, you know. I don’t think we’ve said that enough.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re really good at this, (Y/N). And… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise, and she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. She wanted to say something, to tell him how much his words meant, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

Instead, she smiled, her voice soft. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Lando leaned back, flashing her a grin. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t make me look too bad in the edits, yeah?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No promises.”

As he walked away, her heart swelled with both happiness and longing. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope for more—not yet. But for now, she was content to stay behind the lens, capturing every moment, every laugh, every smile, knowing that even if he didn’t see her the way she saw him, at least she could be a part of his world.

Weeks had passed since (Y/N) had joined Quadrant, and every day felt like a mix of joy and heartbreak. Working alongside Lando was everything she’d dreamed of—he was kind, funny, and always made her feel like a part of the team. But the more time she spent with him, the more her crush deepened, and with it, the painful realization that he didn’t see her that way.

Still, she told herself it didn’t matter. Being close to him, even as just a colleague, was enough. Or at least, that’s what she kept repeating.

The team was gearing up for another shoot, and (Y/N) was already busy setting up the cameras and mics. Lando was running late, as usual, and the rest of the group was milling around, chatting and joking. When Lando finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.

“Guys, this is Magui,” he announced, stepping into the room with a confident grin. The girl beside him was striking—beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. “She’s joining us for today’s video.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank the moment she saw them. Magui was clearly close to Lando; the way he stood next to her, the ease of their laughter, the little glances they exchanged—it was painfully obvious.

Max raised an eyebrow. “New guest star, huh? Fancy.”

Magui laughed, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m just here to make sure Lando doesn’t embarrass himself too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Ria quipped, earning a round of laughter.

(Y/N) forced a smile, keeping her head down as she fiddled with her equipment. Her chest felt tight, but she told herself it was nothing. Lando was free to bring whoever he wanted into the group—it wasn’t like she had any claim on him. But as she watched them banter, the way Lando’s face lit up every time Magui said something, the ache in her heart grew.

The video shoot was a nightmare for (Y/N). Not because of technical issues—everything went smoothly on that front—but because every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Lando and Magui were front and center, their chemistry undeniable as they joked and competed with the rest of the team. Magui fit in effortlessly, her charisma matching Lando’s energy in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Magui, you’ve got to beat him at this,” Max called out during one of the challenges, handing her the controller.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magui said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got this.”

Lando laughed, leaning closer to her. “You think you can beat me? Good luck.”

Watching them, (Y/N) felt like an outsider. She stayed behind the camera, filming their interactions, capturing the moments that everyone else would find entertaining—but for her, it was torture. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like if she were the one standing next to him, sharing those laughs, being the one to catch his attention.

When the shoot finally wrapped up, (Y/N) was the first to start packing up her gear. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before anyone noticed the strain on her face.

But as she was putting away the last of her equipment, Lando approached her, his usual grin in place. “Hey, (Y/N), thanks for today. You made us all look good as always.”

She forced a smile, avoiding his gaze. “Just doing my job.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice clipped. “Just tired.”

Lando frowned, clearly not convinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him from across the room. “Lando! Come on, we’re heading out!”

He glanced back at (Y/N), hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, watching as he walked away, his attention already back on Magui.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/N) sank into her chair, her hands trembling slightly. She told herself it was silly to feel this way, that she was just reading too much into things. But the truth was undeniable: she had fallen for Lando, and watching him with someone else felt like her heart was breaking in slow motion.

That night, (Y/N) sat in her small apartment, staring at the footage she’d captured earlier. She watched as Lando and Magui laughed, the way he looked at her with an ease and warmth that he’d never shown (Y/N). Her chest ached as she replayed the clips, over and over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Lando didn’t see her. Not the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just the camera girl, the one who stayed in the background, capturing the moments that made him shine. And while she was proud of her work, proud to be a part of the team, she couldn’t help but feel invisible.

The next day, the Quadrant group chat was buzzing with messages about the next video, everyone chiming in with ideas and suggestions. Lando sent a message saying he wanted to bring Magui back for another shoot, and the rest of the team seemed thrilled.

(Y/N) stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to be happy for him, to support him the way she always had. But the thought of watching them together again, of filming moments that felt like they were cutting her open from the inside, was almost too much to bear.

Before she could overthink it, she typed out a quick message: “I’m feeling under the weather. Might need to sit this one out.”

Lando responded almost immediately. “That’s okay! Rest up. We’ll handle it.”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. She wanted him to notice, to ask her what was wrong, to care. But he didn’t. And that, more than anything, told her what she needed to know.

As she set her phone down, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She’d known from the start that her crush on Lando was one-sided, but seeing it play out so clearly, so painfully, made it impossible to ignore.

For now, all she could do was step back, focus on her work, and remind herself that sometimes, even when you care deeply about someone, the best thing you can do is let them go.

~~~

(Y/N) took the next few days off, staying away from the group chat and ignoring messages from the team. She needed space—not just from Lando, but from the whole world of Quadrant that revolved around him. She threw herself into editing past footage, focusing on the technical details to distract herself from the pain still lodged in her chest.

But avoiding Lando was harder than she thought. Every video she edited, every laugh and playful insult she clipped together, reminded her of him. Of the warmth he brought into every room, of the little sparks of kindness he’d shown her when she thought, for just a moment, that he might see her as more than the girl behind the camera.

Two Weeks Later

(Y/N) was back on set, quietly filming another chaotic Quadrant shoot. Magui was there again, her presence bright and cheerful as always. She was every bit as perfect as (Y/N) had remembered—funny, confident, and effortlessly charming. And Lando? He seemed happier than ever, his energy electric whenever Magui was around.

(Y/N) did her best to stay in the background, focusing on her work and keeping her distance. But it didn’t take long for Lando to notice.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called out during a break, jogging over to her as the others grabbed drinks. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

She forced a smile, adjusting her camera to avoid looking at him directly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he repeated, frowning slightly. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone. Did I do something wrong?”

Her heart twisted at the concern in his voice. Of course, Lando would think it was about him, but not for the reason he’d assume. She shook her head quickly. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”

Lando studied her, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Because if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him—wanted to say everything she’d been holding back. But as she looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, she knew she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to confide in. He never had been.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she said softly. “Really.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him, waving him over. He glanced back at (Y/N), looking like he wanted to say more, but then turned and jogged toward Magui, his smile lighting up as he joined her.

(Y/N) watched them from behind the camera, the ache in her chest spreading like wildfire. She felt silly, pathetic even, for letting this affect her so much. But no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the pain refused to fade.

Later That Evening

The shoot had wrapped, and (Y/N) stayed behind to pack up her equipment while the others headed out for dinner. She’d made an excuse about needing to finish editing, though in truth, she just couldn’t bear to sit across from Lando and Magui, pretending everything was fine.

The studio was quiet, the only sound the hum of her laptop as she loaded the footage from the day. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting, the weight of everything she felt pressing down on her.

“Still here?”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his hoodie pulled up, his hair slightly messy from the day. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“I thought you were going to dinner with the others,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, stepping inside. “I was, but… I wanted to check on you first.”

She swallowed hard, looking down at her laptop. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he said, leaning against the table beside her. “But I don’t believe you.”

His words made her chest tighten, and she felt the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, Lando. Really. I’m just… tired.”

“(Y/N),” he said softly, his tone gentle but insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought of his reaction—of the awkwardness, the pity, the possibility of losing what little connection they had—stopped her.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said instead, her voice cracking slightly. “Just… let it go.”

He didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, she thought he might push further. But then he nodded, stepping back. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She watched as he left, the door closing softly behind him. And as the silence settled over her once again, the tears finally fell, her heart breaking under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

A Week Later

The next video shoot was another big one, with the entire team involved, including Magui. (Y/N) tried to focus on her work, but it was harder than ever, especially with Lando and Magui’s playful chemistry on full display.

During a break, (Y/N) stepped outside for some air, her chest feeling tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her eyes snapped open to see Lando standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression serious.

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “And I don’t know why, but it’s been driving me crazy.”

She looked away, her heart pounding. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not fine, (Y/N). I can see it. And if it’s something I did—”

“It’s not you,” she blurted out, cutting him off.

He frowned, confused. “Then what is it?”

She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Lando. Forget it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his frustration clear. But before he could say anything else, Max called out for him from inside, breaking the moment.

Lando sighed, glancing toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said softly before walking away.

As she watched him go, (Y/N) felt the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her once again. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, but one thing was clear: something had to change—whether it was her feelings for Lando or her place in his world.

And as the door closed behind him, she realized that letting go of Lando might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

~~~

The decision didn’t come easily, but (Y/N) knew it was the right one. Every day with Quadrant had become a painful reminder of what she couldn’t have, of the unspoken feelings she carried for Lando and the unshakable knowledge that he didn’t feel the same. Watching him with Magui, seeing how naturally she fit into his world, was more than (Y/N) could handle. It was time to step back, to take care of herself before the weight of it all consumed her.

Reading his words brought tears to her eyes. She’d grown to love the team, their chaotic energy, and even the endless teasing. It wasn’t their fault she’d fallen for someone who didn’t see her the way she saw him. Still, she felt a pang of guilt as she hit send on her final reply.

~~~

She didn’t tell Lando directly. She wasn’t sure how, or if he’d even care. Max said he’d inform the team, and that felt like enough. Packing up her gear and stepping away from the studio for the last time was bittersweet. She lingered in the quiet space, memories of laughter and camaraderie playing in her mind.

As she locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Lando found out she was gone. Would he even notice? The thought lingered as she drove home, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.

Two Days Later

The first message came from Ria.

Ria: “What’s this about you leaving? Are you okay? Let me know if you need to talk.”

Then Max.

Max: “Hope you’re doing alright. The studio’s not the same without you.”

She responded to each of them, assuring them she was fine, that she just needed time. But the message she was dreading never came. Lando didn’t reach out—not a text, not a call. The silence was deafening, confirming what she’d feared all along: he didn’t notice. Or worse, he didn’t care.

Weeks Passed

(Y/N) threw herself into freelance work, taking on projects that let her focus on her craft without the emotional baggage that came with Quadrant. Slowly, the ache in her chest began to fade. She stopped checking their YouTube channel obsessively, stopped scrolling through photos of Lando and Magui together. She convinced herself that she was moving on.

But one evening, as she was editing late into the night, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification.

Lando Norris: Hey. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She stared at the message, a flood of emotions rushing in. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but her curiosity—and the tiny flicker of hope she couldn’t extinguish—got the better of her.

(Y/N): Sure. What’s up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Are you free to meet? I’d rather do this in person.

Her stomach churned with nerves, but she agreed, setting a time and place for the next day. She spent the night replaying every possibility in her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever he wanted to say.

~~~

They met at a quiet café, tucked away from the usual chaos of their lives. Lando was already there when she arrived, his hat pulled low, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He stood as she approached, offering her a small, hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. “What’s this about, Lando?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Max told me you left.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I needed some time.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze searching hers. “Did something happen? Was it… me?”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t you, Lando. Not entirely.”

His brows furrowed. “Then what? You were such a big part of the team, (Y/N). I… I miss having you around.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Because I feel like I missed something, and I don’t want to keep missing it.”

She met his gaze, the weight of everything she’d held back pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

“I liked you, Lando,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I liked you more than I should have, and it made things… hard. Watching you with Magui, being part of the team but always on the outside—it hurt. So I left, because I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he said nothing, and she braced herself for the rejection she knew was coming.

“I had no idea,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought you just didn’t want to get close.”

She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t get close, Lando. Not when you didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And Magui… she’s just a friend. I never realized how it must have looked.”

She blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “Just a friend?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I didn’t… I don’t feel that way about her. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Lando reached across the table, his hand brushing hers lightly.

“Is it too late to fix this?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart torn between hope and fear. She didn’t know the answer, but for the first time in weeks, she felt the faintest spark of possibility. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to rewrite their story.

please comment and let me know what you thought of the story

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ CRAZY GOOD .ᐟ — itoshi sae

hold up, netizens. you’re in for a treat this time because guess what? out of all people, it’s time for itoshi sae to hard launch his girlfriend: you.

itoshi sae x female reader. content tags pro-player!sae, established relationship, profanity, kissing, kind of a tease here, he likes showing you off, oliver is the matchmaker. word count 1.5k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ hi guys i finally have some sae content for you all !!! >:) yes i’ve missed him , and no i didn’t abandon him :’) heh i hope all my sae lovers that are still here will like this mwah <3

there are many things that itoshi sae is good at.

soccer skills, one of them. snubbing people, the second. (that’s how he got the reputation of being rude—even if it’s not really true!) and three, not last and not least (but still substantially), it’s causing a buzz.

he caused a buzz the moment he debuted on the soccer field. his first game and he already made a name for himself. people started asking where he’d been his whole life (even if he was introduced to the people very early on), equating him to soccer megastars like cristiano ronaldo.

ever since that day, he’d been caught in the spotlight numerous times. mostly related to soccer, but some due to his personal life. more specifically, the media loves to take a guess on who he’s dating.

yeah, he’s had more than his fair share of dating rumours. if it were up to the media, sae would have had about thirty-four girlfriends by now and he’s only twenty-six this year. (go fish!)

but as many people do, almost everyone who consumes media content about sae is particularly interested in one thing that is shrouded in mystery: his dating life.

because despite all the rumours and whatnot, there’s never been any confirmation of any relationships at all. and no one in his circle has ever coughed anything up, so anything in that regard has been strictly hush-hush.

well, until tonight, when your boyfriend of six months invited you to one of his teammates’ high-profile birthday party.

“what, are you nervous?”

your boyfriend’s ever unbothered tone is still the same as when you first heard it a year ago. somehow you find it funny that one year later you’re living with the same guy you’d first found to be somewhat intolerable.

sighing, you try and zip up the back of your dress, looking into the mirror, making sure you have your best face on. “sae, you have fans that number in the millions, of course i’m nervous,” you comment, watching from the reflection in the mirror as sae saunters over to you, taking his hands out of his pocket.

he smirks at you through the mirror, his body pressed against you as he helps you zip your dress the rest of the way up, his lips right next to your ear. “i’ve never even seen you this nervous in front of me,” he says, poking a little fun at you as he gives you a light kiss on your temple.

a soft chuckle comes from him as you deadpan, obviously in much more distress than he’ll ever know. not that he’ll blame you; he’s used to the fame, you’re not. “relax, they’ll love you.”

“sae, they won’t.”

he shrugs. “yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees, earning a small slap on the arm—and he’s laughing again, though this time he tilts your chin up and gives you a long, slow kiss. the kind that takes your breath away everytime he does it. “but who cares? i love you.”

and there he goes, saying that as if it’s no big deal. making your heart beat so quickly it’s not funny. and before you know it, he’s whisking you away into the lobby where a personal towncar is ready and waiting, with the chauffeur and everything.

“geez, oliver sure loves to go over the top, huh?”

sae gives a sharp exhale at your comment. “hey, that’s your friend right there.”

you roll your eyes, getting in first and sticking your tongue out at him. “and you should be thanking him, without him we’d never have met.”

you look away from him right after saying that so you don’t see it, but sae’s smiling to himself, already thanking his lucky stars.

he thinks meeting you and getting to love you is the luckiest he’ll ever get in this lifetime.

by the time you’ve arrived at the venue—a hotel in the heart of the city—swarms of paparazzi already litter the streets outside. they’ve no doubt had their fill of the other soccer players and mega celebrities that have already arrived and are now ready for the real star of the night (aside from the birthday boy himself): itoshi sae.

of course, everyone’s expecting to see sae all by himself because that’s what usually happens; sae attending any and every event alone and unbothered by the scene. it’s never a surprise anymore, but sae’s a good payday and they’d never miss a single shot.

the moment sae exits the car, it sounds like there’s a million shutters pressed all at the same time, give or take a few milliseconds. (it’s nothing you’re used to.) he stands right where he got out for a few seconds, and even inside you can hear the amount of photographers just begging sae to look straight at them.

and if you think that’s rowdy enough, oh boy you’re in for a treat. because the moment the paparazzi realise that sae’s not, in fact, headed for the hotel just yet, you can hear just a few confused noises before it turns into even more pleading the moment they realise he’s opening your side of the door.

when he opens it and holds his hand out for you, that ever handsome smile on his face (which you forget that he only ever shows to you), you feel like you’re nearly blinded by all the flashes. you brave through it though, taking his hand and getting out of the town car, being greeted by the mass of photographers yelling out to you and sae.

“sae, who is that!”

“hey, girl! look over here! yes right there!”

“what’s your relationship?”

“obviously that’s his girlfriend! hey you!”

you’re a little wide-eyed, stunned at how chaotic this scene is. it’s easy to lose yourself in it, but as it always is, sae realises it whenever you are, and he’s quick to pull you back in.

in this case, he pulls you into his arms, a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he rests his forehead against yours.

“hey, focus on me, just me,” he whispers to you, eyes looking into yours, eyelashes fluttering against one another’s.

(the paparazzi are having a field day.)

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you ask him, chuckling because you only now realise what a fucking tease he is.

sae shrugs, pulling your hair away from your face. (he’s actually just really grateful to you for doing this for him when you don’t need to—when you’re happy to just be able to support him behind the scenes but he really just wants the world to know that you exist, because it’s a blessing, really.) “maybe i am.”

and this time your heart’s beating faster than you know it ever could, his teal blue eyes melting into your gaze, lips getting closer and closer to your own, his calloused hand on the back of your neck.

like clockwork, his lips sink into yours, his tongue snaking its way in. (and the crowd goes absolutely wild.) you’re both laughing at the panicked and hurried yells from the photographers, slowly pulling away from each other.

you reach your hand out to wipe your lipstick stain off his lips but he doesn’t let you, winking at you and leaning in to whisper, “let everyone know who i belong to.”

such a fucking tease.

not that you’re opposed, so you let him be, shaking your head and following him as he holds your hand and leads you in.

within the next hour, pictures of you and sae flood the internet. (notifications come flooding into your phone too.)

itoshi sae hard launches new relationship with mystery woman!

soccer world loses another bachelor—everything we know about itoshi sae’s presumed girlfriend

most of them are pictures of your kiss, with a good chunk of it being his lipstick-stained lips.

as you scroll through some of the articles your friends texted to you, you’re probably never going to be used to it. you’re probably going to be anxious over everything you do in public now.

a slight panic bubbles up in your chest, but then sae comes over, pulling you backwards into his embrace, looking over your shoulder at your phone.

“that quick, huh?”

and suddenly it’s like anxiety has never existed. because even if it may not seem like much, a year of knowing itoshi sae has made you feel safer than you ever did, knowing that he’s always there to catch you, to never make you feel alone.

you melt into his embrace, turning your head and giving him a kiss, your lipstick stain still on his lips.

“i fucking love you, itoshi sae.”

his eyes widen a little before they grow soft, arms pulling you even closer. “i love you too, stupid.”

(and while the two of you are getting all lovey-dovey at his party, oliver’s just slightly—a lot—upset that sae upstaged him during his own birthday party.)

“i fucking hate the both of you,” oliver groans.

[dcintys]

: ̗̀➛ IN THE SPOTLIGHT | ln4

summary: lando norris protects his actor girlfriend from an aggressive paparazzi crowd at a red carpet event.

theme: protective!lando

!based on that one video of tom & zendaya!

the red carpet event was nothing short of chaos. flashing lights, shouting photographers, and a sea of people swarming for a glimpse of the stars made it hard to focus on anything other than getting through it. y/n, a world-renowned actor and the center of attention that night, smiled gracefully for the cameras despite the overwhelming energy around her.

she was used to this—handling the press, the lights, the noise—but tonight felt different. the photographers were relentless, shouting her name louder than usual, and the crowd of fans pressed closer to the barricades. It was all becoming a bit too much.

standing a few feet behind her, lando norris watched the scene unfold with a growing sense of unease. he had tagged along as her plus-one, happy to support her big night, but seeing her in the middle of such chaos made his chest tighten.

y/n turned to step off the carpet, signaling to her team that she was ready to move inside, but the paparazzi surged forward, their voices rising. “y/n! over here!” “give us one more shot!” “y/n, who are you wearing?”

her smile faltered slightly, but she maintained her composure, trying to maneuver through the crowd. lando, however, had seen enough.

in a flash, he was at her side, his hand gently but firmly finding the small of her back. “let’s go,” he murmured, his voice calm but laced with quiet determination.

y/n glanced up at him, surprised but grateful. “i’m fine, really,” she began, but the concerned look in his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it.

“you shouldn’t have to deal with this alone,” he said, his tone softening as he guided her toward the entrance.

the paparazzi didn’t miss the moment. cameras clicked furiously, and new questions erupted. “lando, are you two together?” “y/n, is this your mystery date?”

lando ignored them all, his focus entirely on her. the crowd pressed closer, and a fan nearly reached over the barricade, but lando was quicker. his arm wrapped protectively around y/n’s shoulder, shielding her as they moved forward.

“just keep walking,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the chaos.

y/n nodded, her hand instinctively resting on his arm for support. the noise around them blurred as she focused on his calm presence, the way he moved with purpose, creating a barrier between her and the relentless crowd.

once they were inside the venue, the noise from the outside world disappeared, replaced by soft music and murmured conversations. lando finally released her, though his hand lingered on her arm for a moment longer than necessary.

“are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

y/n let out a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “yeah, I’m fine. thanks to you.”

he gave her a small smile, but the protectiveness in his eyes hadn’t faded. “you shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of madness. they don’t know when to stop.”

“it comes with the job,” she said with a shrug, though her voice was tinged with exhaustion. “i’m used to it.”

“maybe you shouldn’t have to be,” lando said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

her eyes met his, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. there was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, a quiet promise that he’d always be there to step in when things got too overwhelming.

“thank you,” she said sincerely, her lips curving into a warm smile.

“anytime,” he replied, his own smile softening as he glanced down at her. “now, let’s get you a drink. I think you’ve earned it.”

she laughed, the tension of the evening finally easing. with lando by her side, she knew she could handle whatever the spotlight threw her way.

[prael]

Day 8: Perspective

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 6,693 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, things can appear vastly different than when viewed up close and personal.

Take, for instance: Miyeon.

Now, look, you're not saying the whole image is only perspective. You wouldn't dream of undermining the fact that the girl who looks like a princess in magazines, on TV and wherever else you might see her, does in fact look every bit as much of a princess in person. The long black hair, the perfect smooth skin, the way she smiles as though she has a wonderful secret she can't wait to tell. Everything about her is as regal and poised as you'd expect.

But that's not the whole story. It never is.

There's a depth to this woman. There's a nuance to her that doesn't translate to the photos. Something you feel more than you can describe.

And, boy, you can feel it.

"God, fuck, I'm close," Miyeon whispers, her words hot against your ear. Her voice is a breathy whisper, so different from the clear tones she uses on stage. She's not singing now—there's nothing practised or perfect in the way she breathes, the way she talks to you. It's natural, and that's what makes it perfect.

Those manicured nails, adored in acrylic and fake jewels burrow into the skin on your shoulders, holding you down as she grinds atop you. Her hips move with all the skill that they do when she's performing, but there's an aggression to it that you don't see when the music is playing. This is a different type of performance—a different rhythm.

Looking up at her as she rides, you would never deny the comparisons. She's beautiful in every sense of the word, and it's hard not to get lost in the sight. There's something about the way the dim light catches her skin. It's like a spotlight on her body, illuminating every curve and dip, and all the shadows in between. It's hard to look away, and when she moves, it's like the light dances on her sweat-stained skin.

Years ago, Miyeon was always the 'lay there and take it' type (and she was so very good at taking it), but these days, there is something raw and wild inside of her. Something that you're not sure what to call, or how it started, or even how to feel about it. All you know is that when the two of you are together, there's an energy in the air that's electric. Like a storm brewing, ready to strike.

It's in the way her eyes lock onto yours as she works her hips up and down your cock, her body trembling with every movement. Her breath is ragged, and she's gasping as if she's running out of oxygen. It's in the way her thighs squeeze around your hips, and her nails dig deeper into your skin. She's riding you like it's her only purpose, her only goal, and the world could be ending around her and she wouldn't stop.

"Cum with me, please," Miyeon begs. And it's truly a beg. It's not a demand or even a polite request. It's a desperate plea, and it's all you need to hear.

Your hands find her slender waist, gripping her, pulling her down hard against you. You thrust, slamming your hips up to meet hers. It's a clash of bodies, and you're not sure where you end and she begins. You share this moment, this sensation. It's as if you're one being, one creature of lust and desire, moving in perfect sync.

Her pussy clenches around you, and her moans fill the air, a song that's just for your ears. Her body shakes, and her eyes flutter shut, her head falling back. You can see her pulse pounding beneath the surface and her chest heaves. She's lost in the sensation, and you're right there with her. You spill into her, your cock throbbing inside as she milks every last drop from you. Her nails scratch down your chest, leaving red lines in their wake, but you barely feel the pain.

When she finally collapses, her body limp and spent, you can't help but pull her close. Her head falls onto your chest, and you wrap your arms around her. Her hair is damp with sweat, and she smells of sex and perfume. She's so light on your chest, but somehow, it's the most comforting weight.

"That was—" you begin, but she stops you.

"Perfect," she whispers.

You chuckle. "Yeah."

"And also the last time."

You don't move at first. You're still breathing heavily, and you can feel her heartbeat against your skin. You're sure she can feel yours, too. You're not sure you heard her right, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"Did you hear me?" Miyeon asks, her tone suddenly serious.

You swallow hard, then say, "This shit again?"

She sits up, and you can feel the weight of her body leaving yours. You miss it instantly, the warmth of her skin against yours, the way she fit against you perfectly. But now, she's looking down at you, and her expression is hard to read. There's a mix of emotions there, and you can't tell which one is winning.

"Miyeon—" you begin, but she cuts you off.

"Don't," she says. "Don't try to make this something it's not."

"So what the fuck is this?"

She sighs, and you can see the sadness in her eyes. "It's convenient. We have history. We know each other well, but I can't do this anymore."

You're not sure how to respond. You've done this dance before, so many times that you've lost count. And yet, every time, it still stings. You wonder if she'll ever tire of this cycle, or if it's just a part of who she is.

"Look," she says, her voice softening. "I care about you. I do. But... I can't keep doing this."

"You say that every time," you reply, your voice a mix of frustration and resignation.

She looks away, and you can see the guilt in her expression. "I know," she says. "But this time, I mean it. I can't keep hurting you like this. It's not fair to you."

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, the two of you might look like young adults in love. Sharing intimacy and vulnerability in the rawest sense. But from the inside looking out, you can't help but feel like you're trapped in a cycle you can't break. It's like a never-ending rollercoaster, with highs that leave you breathless and lows that leave you feeling empty.

"You know what?" you say, sitting up and looking her in the eye. "I'm done with this shit. Every time things seem to settle, you blow it up. What is it? Are you scared of being comfortable?"

"It's not about that," she says, her voice defensive. She slips back a little, drawing herself off your limp cock and resting between your legs on the bed, her thigh resting atop yours. "We're touring soon and I have to prepare. I don't want you to think you'll be able to come see me, or that we can continue to do this. It's over."

"Touring, huh?" you scoff. "That's the same excuse you used before. What about when you're back from touring? What then?" You shake your head. "You drop me a text at 2 am and ask me to come over?"

She looks at you, and for a moment, you think she might waver. But then she shakes her head. "No," she says, her voice firm. "This is it. It's over."

-

It starts in Seoul, you've spent the last few months seeing the posters everywhere. The subway, the billboards, the bus stops, and even the side of buildings. You can't escape them. The images are larger than life, with Miyeon in the centre. She's smiling, her teeth bright white and her eyes sparkling. She's beautiful, as she always is. Around her are the other members of (G)I-DLE, dressed in matching outfits, looking every bit as perfect as she is, and yet, they pale in comparison.

You can't look away from the images. They seem to follow you wherever you go, a constant reminder of what could have been. What could have been, but never will be. It's been a month since you last saw her, and yet you see her every day.

And it's not just the posters. It's the commercials, too. You'll be watching TV, minding your own business, and suddenly, there she is. Selling makeup or shampoo or some other product you have no interest in. But you can't turn away. You're drawn to her, even though you know it's only going to hurt.

You're in the supermarket, trying to get your groceries, when you see the magazine covers. There she is, looking perfect, as always. Her hair is styled, and her makeup is flawless. She's wearing a dress that clings to her curves, and her legs seem to go on forever. It's a far cry from the way she looks when she's with you, but you can't deny that she's still beautiful.

You pick up the magazine, flipping through the pages. There she is, in an interview. She's talking about her upcoming tour and her plans for the future. She's confident and charming, as always. You can't help but read the whole thing, even though you know it's not healthy.

And now, you're in line at the convenience store, picking up some ramen for dinner. You glance up at the TV in the corner, and there she is. Performing. She's on some music show, singing and dancing with the other members of (G)I-DLE. She's in perfect sync with the others, her movements fluid and graceful.

It's not just the public images that haunt you. It's the personal ones, too. The ones you took of her, of the two of you together. You have them all saved on your phone, a constant reminder of what you had. You try not to look at them, but sometimes you can't resist. It's normally what tides you over, between the time when she calls you and in the most innocent of voices, tells you that you should meet.

There are other girls, of course. Your attempts at getting over her by getting under someone else. But the thing is, every girl in Seoul seems to want to be just like Miyeon. You go out on a date with a cute girl, she'll be wearing Miyeon's makeup and her clothes. At a club, a girl will be wearing her perfume. She's everywhere, and you can't escape her. It's maddening.

So you buy one of them a drink. Try to forget about Miyeon for a night. Even when you're between another girl's legs and she's writhing, it's the thought of Miyeon's face that pushes you over the edge. You've even tried to avoid it. You've taken girls that look nothing like her, but it doesn't seem to matter. They're all just a distraction, a way to numb the pain.

And you can't help but feel like you're going to lose your mind.

It's a rainy day when you finally see her. You're walking home from work, huddled under your umbrella, when you spot her across the street. She's walking with her head down, trying to avoid the rain. You stop, and for a moment, you're frozen. You don't know what to do. Should you cross the street and talk to her? Should you pretend you haven't seen her?

Before you can decide, she looks up and sees you. There's a flash of recognition on her face, and then a smile. A real smile. You can't help but smile back.

But she keeps walking.

-

It's just two days out. The opening show of (G)I-DLE's world tour. You've managed to avoid it. You've had no interest in buying a ticket. It's not the music. You still listen to them, and they put on a great performance. It's more the idea of it. You don't want to be part of the crowd, just one face in a sea of fans.

You're drowning your sorrows over a few drinks at some hole in the wall. It's a familiar place. The mood is all youthful energy. It's a record bar, and it's one you're familiar with. You've lost count of the number of times you've waited here, with Miyeon's apartment around the corner, waiting for the text to tell you it's all clear. It's not why you're here, so maybe it's a strange choice, but the records on the wall, the music pumping through the speakers and the drinks in your belly makes it easier to forget.

A girl comes and sits beside you. She's cute, in a plain sort of way. She's not trying too hard. You've been watching her since she came in. She's with a group, but they've been playing darts, and she's come over to the bar by herself. She sits and orders a drink, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, not saying anything.

You can see her glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. You know she's interested. You know the game. You've played it before.

Maybe you could spend the evening talking to her, maybe even take her home. But the idea doesn't appeal to you. You're not in the mood. Not for her.

So opportunity passes. A man walks up, some business type in a suit. He sits on the other side of her, and the two strike up a conversation. You watch her laugh at his jokes, and he buys her a drink. There's a pang of jealousy, not over this girl in particular, but the fact that he can have this light-hearted fun without the baggage weighing over him.

He doesn't have a Miyeon-shaped hole in his head, but maybe that's just a matter of perspective.

-

You're not drunk. You're sure of that.

Maybe careless is the right word. You've had a few drinks, but not enough to impair your judgment. You're just a little loose, a little less concerned with the consequences of your actions. So you're pressing the button for the top floor of the apartment building you're in, and you're on your way up.

It's not an entirely conscious decision. It's more of a compulsion. You're not sure what you're going to do when you get there, but you can't help yourself. The elevator doors slide open, and you step out into the hallway.

It's late. The lights are dimmed, and the only sound is the hum of the air conditioning. You walk down the hallway, your footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. You stop in front of the door. Apartment 1801.

You knock. There's no answer. You knock again, and this time, you can hear movement inside.

Miyeon opens the door, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. She's dressed in an oversized white shirt, and her hair is messy, as though she's been asleep.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asks, her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know," you reply, and it's the truth. You really don't know what you're doing here. You just know that you needed to see her, to be near her. Even if it's just for a moment.

"This is a bad idea," she says, and she starts to close the door. But you reach out and stop her, your hand on the door frame. You're not sure what you're expecting. Maybe for her to yell at you, or tell you to go to hell.

But she doesn't. Instead, she just sighs, and she steps aside, letting you in.

Things are a bit of a mess inside, you can't blame her, she's about to spend months travelling from city to city. Her suitcases are sprawled all over, clothes are laid out on the sofa, and the coffee table is covered in books and papers.

"You can't keep doing this," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've got my tour starting, and we can't keep doing this. I'm leaving the country soon, so I can't keep... seeing you. You need to find someone else."

"I know," you reply, and you do. You know you can't keep doing this. You know you need to move on, to find someone else. But it's hard.

You step closer to her, and she doesn't move away. Your hands find her waist, and you pull her closer to you. She doesn't resist, and for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, breathing in each other's scent. And you can't help but think of all the times you've been in this exact position, with your hands on her waist and her body pressed against yours. You think of all the times you've kissed her, touched her, fucked her. All the times you've shared.

"I just came to say goodbye," you whisper, and you mean it. You don't expect anything from her. You're not even sure why you're here. You just know that you need to see her one last time before you say goodbye for good.

She looks up at you, and there's something in her eyes that you can't quite read. It's not anger or sadness. It's more like resignation.

"Goodbye, then," she says, and she kisses you.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative. But it quickly grows more intense. Your hands slide down to cup her ass, and you lift her. She wraps her legs around your waist, and the two of you stumble backwards until you hit the wall. Her hands are in your hair, pulling at the strands as she kisses you with a ferocity that takes your breath away.

Beneath the shirt is only a pair of panties, tight against her ass. You run your hands over them, squeezing and groping, and she moans into your mouth. Her hips grind against yours, and you can feel her heat through the fabric of her panties. You want her, and you know she wants you, too.

"Fuck me one last time," she whispers in your ear, and you don't need to be told twice. Miyeon wraps her thighs high on your waist, making you crane your neck back a little to keep kissing her, but it means you can unbuckle your trousers and push them down. Your hands are back on her ass, pulling her panties to the side, and your fingers run through her lower lips. She's wet. She's already ready for you. She always has been, from the first time to this one.

She's so light that it makes it easy to step forward and turn, now it's her turn to be pinned against the wall. Holding Miyeon by that tight little ass, you lower her onto your cock and she fits so easily that she slides down the entire length. Her head is thrown back, and her mouth hangs open in pleasure.

There's a gasp, of both surprise and pleasure as you fill her. You can feel her walls stretching around you, accommodating your size. You give her a moment to get used to the feeling, and then you start to move. You pull out almost all the way, before sliding back in, and her moans fill the air. Her body is pressed tightly against yours, and you can feel her heartbeat racing.

Her shoulders are pressed square against the wall, it's enough to support her. Her legs are tight around your waist. Every time you pull back, you draw her hips away from the wall, only to drive her back against it with every thrust. She bounces between the hard surface and your cock. It's so forceful that you're worried you might break something, and that only drives you to fuck her harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud in the apartment, and you're sure the neighbours can hear, but you don't care.

You're nailing Miyeon to the wall with the sort of rough recklessness that only comes at the end of a relationship. You have no more fucks left to give about the consequences, and you're making the most of your last hurrah.

Miyeon's moaning loudly, her voice rising in pitch with every thrust. You're hitting all the right spots, and you can tell she's close. You angle your hips in the way you know she likes, and she cries out, her body shaking as she comes undone around you. You keep going, fucking her through her orgasm, and it's not long before you're close to the edge too.

Miyeon's moans are in your ear, they're so familiar. The way her body moves with yours. It's a sensation that's been burned into your memory, and you can't imagine ever forgetting it. You feel her nails scratching at your shirt. It's not enough to break skin, but you'll feel it tomorrow, a dull ache in your back.

"Give me a night to remember," she whispers, her voice breathy and desperate. "Fuck me so hard that I can't forget."

You're stumbling towards the kitchen table now, and she's clinging to you as if her life depended on it. You set her down, planting her cute ass on the glass surface. You set her back with a gentle hand on her chest, lying her flat against the surface, her hair splayed out behind her. She's looking up at you with that regal stare, the one she gives in the magazines, but it's not the perfect image you've seen on the posters. No, Miyeon's flush, and she's all the better for it.

In the most loving way you can, you tell her, "I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

Your hands are on her thighs, pushing them apart, and she's so wet that you can see it glistening on her skin. You slide into her easily, and she cries out as you bottom out inside her. You start to move, but it's uncharacteristically slow. "Take off your shirt," you tell her.

Her hands are too shaky for the small buttons but she's trying her best, starting from the bottom and working up. Even with your controlled thrusts, Miyeon is distracted and her hands slip more than once. You don't help, you just keep your grip on her thighs and watch the show.

A few buttons later the shirt is falling open at her stomach. Slender and toned, but still soft. The years of performing have given her a body worth worshipping. Every little defined line is an accomplishment of its own, and you've been there to appreciate them. You plant a hand on her abs and push her down against the table. Her hands are still struggling with the buttons.

"Come on," you say. "You're taking forever."

"Fuck you," she gasps.

You can't help but chuckle, and then you pick up the pace, fucking her a little faster, a little harder. Her hands are shaking even more now, and you're not making it any easier for her. She struggles another one open, then another, and then her shirt is open, exposing her bare chest to you.

You're not in a hurry now. You're taking your time, enjoying the sight of her naked body. Her breasts are perfect teardrops, with small, pink nipples that are hard and begging to be touched. You take one in your hand, rolling it between your fingers, and she arches her back, pressing her chest into your touch. You pinch her nipple lightly, and she cries out, her hips bucking against yours.

You're still fucking her, still driving into her with long, deep strokes, and you can feel her body start to tense up as she gets closer and closer to her release. You want to make this last, but the thing about Miyeon is that she's just so easy to make cum.

She throws her hands above her head, showing herself in all her carnal glory, and her back arches off the table. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, and her eyes are screwed shut. It's beautiful, and it's also the reason you know you're not over her. Maybe you never will be. It's not just the physical attraction, it's something more, and you're not sure what it is, but it's there.

You take hold of her ankles, pulling her legs up so the underside of her thighs rests against your stomach, and her calves lie on your shoulders. Miyeon's ankles cross behind your neck, holding on tight while you keep fucking her.

Now every thrust is punctuated by a slap against her thighs, the sound is almost as beautiful as her moans.

It doesn't matter whether she loves you, or even cares about you, and you've long learned not to ask questions that you won't like the answer to. When you both need each other the most, you find a way back together. So maybe that's love. In a strange, fucked up sort of way.

There are tears in her eyes now, and you know that they're not from pain. There's a tremble in her body, and you can tell she's about to lose it. You want to take her through it, so you take a second to adjust the angle you're fucking her at, hitting that spot that drives her crazy. It's a simple change, a different hip placement, and suddenly, you're slamming against that spot, over and over, making sure every movement is perfect.

"Don't stop, I'm-" she tries, but her words trail off into incoherence. Her body spasms and her pussy clenches around you like a vice. She lets out a strangled moan, her limbs locked in place as she shakes and shudders, lost in pleasure.

You can only admire the spectacle of it all, she is a performer after all. Her body is a work of art, every curve, every line, designed just for your eyes. This is a sight you've had many times before, and each time it feels like the first, even when it's the last.

You can't allow it to end, it's a determined thought that you repeat over and over as you hold back your orgasm, instead opting to pick Miyeon up. You carry her just a few steps until you fall back onto the sofa. The show must go on.

Her legs spread wide around your hips. You let her sit back on your lap and slowly ride you, her hips moving lazily as she catches her breath. It's not fast enough to get either of you off, but it's enough to keep the fire burning. You're leaning back, just admiring the sight of her. She looks down at you with hooded eyes, biting her lip, lost in her pleasure. Your hands explore her body, roaming over her smooth skin, feeling her muscles flex as she moves. She leans back a little further, placing a hand against your knee to steady herself. That new angle hits a sweet spot inside her, and her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly.

"You really want this to be the last time you ride me?" you ask. It's not much of an argument, but you don't want this to be over.

Her movements are languid, she rolls her hips sensually, the tempo steady as she grinds against you. "It's... for the best."

She sounds unconvincing, even to herself, and her voice trails off as she loses herself to the pleasure. She leans forward again, bracing herself with her hands on your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin. She picks up the pace, her hips rocking back and forth, riding you with purpose.

"That's it," you breathe, meeting her movements with your own, pushing deeper inside her. "Don't act like you aren't gonna miss this."

Her fingers dig into your shoulders even harder, and she rides you with renewed vigour, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hanging open. You can tell she's getting close, her body trembling with the effort, her thighs quivering around you. Her perky little tits bounce their most seductive dance, drawing your hand towards one. You cup it so perfectly in your palm and Miyeon lets out the softest of whines.

"Miss it," Miyeon pants. "But we... we can't."

You take that as the cue, you grab her waist and thrust up into her tight, warm cunt. She cries out, and you do it again, and again, and again. You slam into her, your hips lifting off the sofa, fucking her hard and fast. She's panting now, her head thrown back, her hair a tangled mess. She's bouncing on your cock, her breasts shaking with every thrust. Her thighs clench around you, and she starts to cum, her walls convulsing around you. You keep fucking her, prolonging her pleasure, milking every last bit of bliss from her.

When she finally collapses on top of you, her body spent and exhausted, you roll her over and lay her out on the sofa. She's limp, barely able to move. Her eyes are unfocused, staring up at you with a dazed expression. She looks completely and utterly satisfied. It's almost a shame that she has a flight in a few hours.

With what little energy remains, she hooks one leg over the back of the sofa, presenting herself to you. You spread her legs wider and lower your head between them.

"It's not like anyone else can make you cum like I can," you say, running your tongue along her slit. She's hot and swollen from all the fucking, but she's dripping wet, and you lap up her juices eagerly.

"That's not the point," Miyeon groans right before she clasps her thighs around your head.

If the only way you could ever make your points was between Miyeon's legs, well that would be alright by you. But for now, you settle for latching onto her clit and sucking firmly, while she writhes beneath you, her back arching off the sofa. Miyeon tastes how only Miyeon can, and you lick, suck and slurp up every drop you can get.

You keep your hands busy, roaming her perfect skin, groping her ass, her thighs, and finally, when she's so close to the edge, slipping two fingers into her tight hole. The sensation is overwhelming. You can feel her walls tighten around your digits, squeezing them hard as you finger-fuck her. You twist and curl your fingers, finding that spot that drives her crazy, and her hips buck up to meet your hand, grinding against you.

The sensation is mind-numbing, but you refuse to yield. You keep licking and sucking, your fingers pounding in and out of her. She's a whimpering mess, her hands gripping the armrest of the sofa, her knuckles white. Her eyes are screwed shut, and she's biting her lip so hard you think she might draw blood. You can feel her walls clamp down around you, and you know she's close. You press on, doubling your efforts, determined to make her cum so hard that she forgets her name. You want to ruin her.

"Please don't stop," she begs. "Just keep doing that and I'm gonna-"

As if you'd stop now. You redouble your efforts, fucking her with your fingers, curling them just right, pressing against that spot that makes her toes curl. You feel a rush of wetness as she cums, her thighs clamping around your head, trapping you there. You don't stop, you keep finger-fucking her, extending her orgasm. Her body twitches and spasms, and you keep licking and sucking, drinking down every last drop of her pleasure.

When it's finally over, you look up to see Miyeon sprawled out on the sofa. "We can't keep doing this." Her chest heaving, and she's covered in sweat. She looks completely fucked out, and you love it. It's a moment to commit to memory whenever you happen across her image, so easily found these days. You want her to remember this too.

"One last one," you say, and she shakes her head, but you already know she'll give in. She always does. Because she needs this as much as you do. One more chance to enjoy each other. She doesn't resist when you guide her into position, flipping her over so she's on all fours, presenting her perfect ass to you. Miyeon reaches back, spreading her cheeks and inviting you in, while looking back at you from over her shoulder.

Miyeon doesn't moan, she squeals in delight when you sink inside of her. If it had felt good earlier, it's nothing compared to now. She's so slick and loose from previous orgasms that you slip into her with ease, filling her up completely. Your hands grip her hips, pulling her back onto you with every thrust, and she meets you eagerly, pushing back against you.

"Do you really think you're ready to give this up?" you ask, as you pound into her, your balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. "To never feel my cock inside you again?"

"Done it before," Miyeon responds through gritted teeth. She doesn't sound certain. You wrap a hand around her neck and pull her upright, holding her flush against you. With your other arm around her waist, you pin her against your chest while she desperately rolls her hips in search of stimulation.

"Yet you came right back, didn't you?" you whisper in her ear, before letting her go. Miyeon falls forward, catching herself on her forearms. Her hands grip the armrest and you plant a firm spank on her ass. "Always do."

Miyeon stops craning her neck to look back at you, faces forward and then says probably the last thing you would expect, "I have a boyfriend."

Your motions are seized, bringing the whole encounter to a sudden, crashing halt. You don't know what to say, so you just stay there, inside her.

"You weren't supposed to come here tonight," Miyeon mutters. "We weren't supposed to do this ever again."

"So... why did you?"

"Because I'm stupid. And I can't get enough of you. It's hard to say no when you show up with that look in your eyes."

She keeps talking, but you can't hear her. Your mind is racing. Jealousy stirs in the pit of your stomach, and the urge to claim what's yours takes over.

Your hands grip Miyeon's hips, pulling her back onto you roughly. She yelps, her body jolting as you slide deeper inside her. "Then tell me to stop and I will."

There's hesitation in her response. For just a brief moment, she hesitates, like she's actually considering it.

"Don't stop."

It's all you need. Your grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh as you pull her back onto you again and again. Your hips snap forward with each thrust, burying yourself inside her completely.

You take hold of her hair, wrapping it around your fist, pulling her head back, exposing the elegant column of her neck, making her back arch. It's beautiful, like something straight out of a painting. She whimpers, a little mewl that's equal parts pain and pleasure, and the noise only spurs you on, driving you to fuck her harder, faster, your pace relentless.

"Don't stop!" she pleads, her voice ragged, desperate.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the lewd squelch of your cock plunging into her wet cunt, and the creaking of the couch beneath you, all punctuated by her moans and cries, rising in pitch, her voice breaking. Each thrust seems to draw another sound from her, a symphony of ecstasy.

Her nails drag across the leather surface of the couch, as you drive into her petite frame with unrestrained abandon. You fuck her like a toy, like a tool built to extract pleasure from your cock, and she takes it because it's what she needs. What you both need. And maybe that's the root of your problem. The way you feed off each other. The way you're drawn together like magnets, no matter how hard you try to resist.

You reach under Miyeon with one hand, rubbing furious circles around her engorged clit, while the other wraps loosely around her throat. You apply pressure, not enough to cut off her air completely, just enough to make her aware of your power over her. The way she surrenders herself to you, trusting you to take her to heights of pleasure she's never experienced with anyone else, it's intoxicating.

And Miyeon knows it, the little tease. She uses it to her advantage. She uses you to fulfil her deepest desires, knowing full well that you'll oblige.

You should hate her for it. A rational person would.

You feel Miyeon tense up beneath you, her body stiffening as you relentlessly rub her clit, and you can feel her orgasm approaching, building deep within her core. She gasps, her breaths coming in shallow pants, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the sofa. She pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts with equal fervour, her body desperate for release.

And you give it to her. Hard. Without relent. Your hand presses firmer against her clit, your other wrapped loosely around her neck, her delicate skin hot and sweaty against your palm, pulsing in time with her beating heart.

"Look at me," you grunt. Miyeon turns her head and it's all in those big beautiful brown eyes. Eyes you've gazed into so often. Eyes you've missed seeing these last few weeks. She's so close that you could lean forward and kiss her, but you resist, choosing to prolong her agony just a little longer. "Cum for me."

Miyeon obeys, surrendering herself completely. Her eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering shut as she crashes over the edge, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. You don't let up, you keep pumping, driving her through it, keeping her flying high. Your fingers rub faster, harder against her sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her body shudders and shakes, her walls clamping down around you, milking you in waves. It's an incredible sensation, the way she squeezes you, and pulls you deeper into her depths, urging you to join her in ecstasy.

She's spilling down onto the sofa. Miyeon is rarely this messy, but it only happens when you really put her through the wringer, when she's so overwhelmed by pleasure that her body loses all control, giving itself over entirely to the blissful release.

She might be someone else's girlfriend now, but you're still going to fill her.

That thought pushes you past the breaking point. With a primal roar, you bury yourself inside her, bottoming out inside her depths, and you spill your seed deep within her core, coating her walls with your warmth, claiming her for yourself.

Miyeon falls limply to the cushions. She lies there, breathless, her chest heaving, her hair dishevelled. The sounds of her pleasure fade, replaced by the sounds of heavy breathing. Your chest rises and falls in rhythm with hers. You slump over her, supporting yourself on weak forearms so that you hover inches above her.

Her limp little body slips off you and onto the couch. Miyeon just lies there, panting, her chest heaving, her eyes closed. She's coated in sweat and her hair is plastered to her forehead. Her clothes are scattered all over the floor, and she lies in a pool of her own mess.

"You should leave," she whispers. You want to stay and argue the case, but you know that the ship has sailed. So you nod.

Miyeon doesn't watch you leave, she remains curled up on the sofa, with a mixture of your juices seeping out of her pussy and leaving a mess on the leather cushions. She waits until she hears the door click shut behind you to even move.

Once more for old time's sake. Once more for closure. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over. 

Though, you would argue, it’s all just a matter of perspective.

[harrysfolklore]

the carlos sainz roast

summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k

folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.

You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.

"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.

"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.

The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.

As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"

Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."

You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.

"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"

Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."

The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.

"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"

Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."

Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”

You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"

Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."

The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.

"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."

The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."

"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.

As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."

Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.

"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.

"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.

"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"

Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.

"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"

As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"

Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.

"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"

Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.

"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"

The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.

"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."

Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."

"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."

Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"

Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.

"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"

The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.

"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"

You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.

"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."

Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.

"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."

Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.

"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"

Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."

The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.

"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"

Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.

"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."

"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"

The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.

"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."

Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.

"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."

Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.

"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.

Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.

"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."

Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."

"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"

After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.

Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.

"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."

The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.

"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."

Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.

"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"

The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.

"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."

You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."

As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.

"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"

"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."

Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.

"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."

The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.

"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: heyy! can i request a The Boys preference where (during early relationship) they see reader in more tight fitting clothes for the very first time (reader usually wears baggy jeans and oversized shirts, but now for once wears shorts and a tight fitting tanktop or smth) tysm! - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: Screaming I love this! As someone who loves baggy clothing, there's nothing better than showing off the ✨️goods✨️ when I feel like it lol. This was super fun to imagine! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher is pretty shocked. Whereas you usually lean towards oversized shirts and big pants, you were dressed in something revealing, tight. You tried to look casual, secure, but underneath you were full of insecurities. You think I look stupid, you say, following his gaze up and down your body. Stupid is the last word he'd ever use. Butcher wears this wicked smile, telling you exactly what he thinks. You laugh, telling him to shut up before he's saying anything else. He loves what he sees. Because your relationship is still new, he's trying to be on his best behavior, but you know how his mind works. You throw your sweatshirt over your outfit, calling him ridiculous, laughing at him. Now that he knows what's underneath those oversized layers, he can't keep his thoughts or hands off you.

Hughie is all giggles and smiles. He hadn't realized you'd kept one of your suits from your time at The Seven. This suit, however, was different from the one you regularly wore. This was tighter, more exposing, showing off every curve and contour of your body. It was the only one you were allowed to take with you and there was a reason you rarely put it on. He wasn't used to seeing you like this. You wore big sweatshirts and wide pants. He never thought he'd be as surprised as he was when he finally saw you, but he was. Your body was. . . wow. He tries to hide his excitement, but he can't. Seeing this, you do a little spin for him, growing self-conscious. Do I look stupid? You ask. He's quick to tell you you look amazing. Because your relationship is still new, he doesn't want to sound too excited, but to him, you look amazing. He's glad he got to see you like this.

Annie wants to show you off to everyone. She knows now is not the time nor place: you've put on your old Supe suit to make a point against those in favor of Homelander. It's serious and important and dangerous given his fans would do anything to get a piece of you, anything to tear you down. But she can't help it, she can't take her eyes off you. She's never seen you in your suit before. You quit The Seven before your promo pictures could come out, after you'd been introduced. You took the suit with you. By then, you'd had a sort of a cult following, people interested in your story before you had the spotlight shown on you. It helped that you and Annie were newly together. She hadn't realized you'd kept your suit so when you showed up at Starlight House wearing it, she was speechless. She'd never seen your body like that before. She couldn't take her eyes off you.

M.M. is speechless. You got all dressed up for a date. Before this, your dates had always been casual, spur of the moment, low key. Tonight Marvin went all out for reservations at a fancy place you'd never even heard of. You figured you'd pull out your best clothes which just so happened to be a little tighter and more revealing that your typical wardrobe. He picks you up at your place, not recognizing you at first. You're self-conscious, making a joke about your appearance before anyone else has the chance. He wouldn't though. He thinks you look amazing. He was always more than a little curious as to what exactly you were hiding under big t-shirts and baggy pants, but your relationship was new and so he felt a little shy wondering. Now he was glad he had waited: you were breath taking.

Frenchie is obsessed. Mon Couer, where have you been hiding all this?! It definitely makes you laugh and a little embarrassed. He's never minded your usual clothes. He's all for oversized sweatshirts and comfort and the overall aesthetic. He thinks you look adorable in your usual clothes, but this? Wow. Just wow. You jokingly tell him to pick is jaw off the floor. You and Kimiko are going undercover as a wealthy couple. She's all dressed up and waiting for you. Not only are your clothes expensive looking, but they fit like a glove. He's never seen so much of your body. It drives him wild. You get compliments from everyone, but Frenchie, your new boyfriend, can't get enough of you. If this mission weren't so important and time sensitive, he would have spent the whole night telling you just how sexy you looked.

Kimiko has never seen this much of you all at once. Together you're going undercover. She's wearing a dress with her hair and makeup done. It makes her feel like a clown. Still, she does it because she has to. And you do, too. You lose the baggy pants and big shirts for something a lot more tight and way more revealing. The rest of The Boys have a lot to say, all of it you laugh at and tell them to shut up. Kimiko hopes it's too dark to see that she's blushing, watching you step out of the car. If she spoke she would have been speechless. Instead she plays it off cool, telling you you look great, before going in. In any chance she can get though she stares you up and down, taking you in, smiling to herself. She doesn't get distracted about anything, but you? Oh you're all she can think about.

Bonus! Homelander doesn't really think about your body, or anyone's body. It's more of a want more than anything else and it typically involves milk. Still, when you come out and show everyone your suit, he's pretty speechless. Your civilian clothes and fashion are oversized, baggy, and comfortable. He's never really seen your body before, no one has. Your PR team wanted to fix that though. You're not so sure about your suit: it leaves little to the imagination. When you step out you're embarrassed, wishing for your sweatshirt. Homelander never compliments anyone unless it's backhanded, but he really does like what he sees. It's kind of a throw away line, one that seems innocent and nonchalant, but for him it's a huge deal. He can't stop thinking about you. Even when you put on the other variations, he has final say. Everyone is too scared to say no to him. He liked the first one so you wear the first one.

Bonus! Soldier Boy is practically drooling. The moment he sees you his jaw is on the floor. He's never minded your usual fashion: baggy clothes were comfortable and cute. He would have minded had he known you were hiding *all that* beneath oversized sweatshirts/sweaters/t-shirts and baggy pants. He can't help himself (not that he ever held anything back usually) when he makes remarks and jokes and innuendos. It comes out so fast it's almost compulsive, he's barely breathing between words. The Boys think it's hilarious how much attention you're getting from him considering they've grown used to these switch ups between clothes. He practically begs you for an ounce of attention, affection, and you use it as leverage. As long as you're wearing as little as possible, Soldier Boy will do anything you want.

[aamircoeur]

just distressed (not a damsel) - ultraman, ken sato.

getting familiar with your robot-like saviour after his nth time of saving your life.

PART 2.

cw: brief mention of blood. sfw, female reader. UNEDITED

"hello again, little ma'am." the huge character looked down on you, his glowing eyes acting as a spotlight as he held you on his palms. a purple-colored, lizard-like kaiju had destroyed the top of the apartment building that you were staying at, and luckily, ultraman was there to save you.

only for, like, the sixth time this month.

"not causing trouble again, are you?" ultraman teased, and you just rolled your eyes, making the being laugh.

the first time was when you were on your first (and after that incident, also the last) date with a guy you met at a bar. he took you to sumida river for some sight-seeing, and a kaiju appeared from underneath the waters, targeting those who were at the bridge. out of fright, the people screamed and scattered like ants, including your date who left you to flee for his own safety.

upset, you took a moment to process the happenings around you while you stared at the back of the guy as he ran. without noticing, the kaiju creeped from behind you in an attempt to catch you off-guard and eat you for its lunch (you assumed). fortunately, ultraman was there in the nick of time, blasting the kaiju with his powers that came from the moon or something, you thought. you really didn't understand how he or his powers worked, and you really couldn't bother learning either.

being the only person to stay on the bridge, ultraman approached you after sending the kaiju back to where it emerged from. "uhm, hi," he said, looking down on you as he was wiping debris off of his shoulder. "you okay?" he tilted his head.

"yes, i am. thank you!" you shouted at him, hands cupped to both sides of your cheeks.

he nodded. "okay, get home safe, little ma'am." he said before walking away. you looked at him as he made his way through the water. you thought about the weird nickname and shrugged, thinking that everyone must be little to him when he's that big.

upon arriving home at your apartment, you saw a series of messages of apologies and excuses from the guy you went on a date with. you scoffed and blocked him without responding.

the second time that you were saved by ultraman was when you unfortunately got in the crossfire between him and a kaiju that looked like a dinosaur. you were underneath a separated car door after trying to run to safety, your left leg and forehead dripping with blood, and you were too light-headed from the blood loss to help yourself out of your current position.

after the shaking of the ground has stopped, assuming that the battle has ended, you opened your eyes only to reveal that everything was blurry. an elderly woman was crouched in front of you, slightly tapping your face before wiping the blood off of your forehead. "oh, you poor thing," she said. a tear made its way across your cheek, finally feeling the pain after the numbness had faded away. "you'll be okay," the woman said before standing up and walking into the middle of the street, and it was the last thing you saw before passing out.

the elderly woman had called for ultraman, waving her arms out as high as she could. seeing her from a few streets over, ultraman rushed to her, careful with his steps to avoid stepping on a car. "hello! is something the matter?" ultraman greeted.

"here, here!" the woman called and led her to where you were. shocked, ultraman knelt down and lifted the car door, placing it down on the sidewalk before scooping you up into his palms. "poor girl has been bleeding since i saw her." she added, her hands cupped together, worriedness heard in her voice. "if you rush, we might save her!" she exclaimed.

ultraman nodded and stood up on his feet, slowly moving covering you with his other hand. "thank you, madame. please, go home to where you'll be safe." he said before flying off.

hearing a constant beep woke you up from the hospital bed that you stayed in. you squinted your eyes as you adjusted to the light on the ceiling, you then saw your right leg with a cast. groaning, you took a deep breath before looking around more. there was a desk beside you with a folded piece of paper.

you reached for it and unfolded it, and there was a note in blue ink that said, "the bills have been covered. please, get well soon."

the third time of being saved by ultraman was when a kaiju attack has been reported near you once again and ultraman took you to safety via his palm because you couldn't walk properly with your cast.

by the fourth time, you simply greeted the character with a simple hello despite having yet another kaiju attack near you. ultraman greeted you back, laughing after realizing that he was getting used to seeing you when there's a kaiju attack and saying, "hello, little ma'am."

for the fifth time, you were in a restaurant for dinner that had unfortunately caught on fire because of a flame-spitting kaiju. although you had the opportunity to leave early the moment smoke was seen to guarantee your safety, you helped every person you could to leave the restaurant instead before helping the staff control the growing fire.

the fire department in the city was handling the fire in a hospital which led to their lateness in handling the one in the restaurant you were staying at. fortunately, the five million meters tall (your exaggeration) superhero was there, helping the humans put out the fire and successfully doing so.

as the staff were being interviewed by news reporters, you went on your way to a different restaurant instead to continue your dinner. a few streets down from where the restaurant was, you walked downtown to where the road was quiet and empty, and you just casually bumped into ultraman.

by casually, you meant that he almost stepped on you after not looking before taking a sharp turn. "woah there!" the huge being exclaimed, his robotic voice echoing throughout the evening. you had your hands in the pockets of your jacket as you looked up at him.

"wait, i know you." he said before going down on his knees and lowering his body to take a better look at you. "little ma'am!" he exclaimed, his bright eyes widening.

you squinted your eyes at the brightness and smiled sheepishly. "hey, ultraman."

ultraman sat up and held out his palm for you, which you accepted. you stepped on his finger before making your way towards his palm, and he then lifted you up before holding you in front of him as he looked at you.

"what brings you here?" you asked, crossing your legs on his palm, making yourself comfortable.

he let out a small chuckle at how used you were to stay on his palms. "uh, fire, in the uptown," he explained. your eyes widened as your eyebrows lifted. "woah, were you there?" he asked, worried.

you nodded. "yeah, i was supposed to have dinner but then the ceiling started burning. i tried to help some elderly people to head outside." you explained.

ultraman smiled down at you, happiness obvious in his robotic facial expression. "you've helped greatly." he said.

you laughed and swatted your hands in front of him. "nah, the cook and waitresses helped control the fire before you got there." you said.

"no way," ultraman shook his head. "don't undermine what you've done, because you've done great. i never would've dumped the bucket of water if i had known that there were people inside, and it would have been hard for me to help them out with my big size." he said. "really, thank you for the help."

you just smiled at him and scoffed playfully. "just another day for a super human," you joked.

you and him shared a laugh and continued your talk. "so, what're you gonna do now?" he asked you, now leaning on the office building behind him as he got more comfortable throughout the conversation.

"ah, i wanted to continue my dinner, but there's this big bug that just wouldn't stop pestering me," you joked, referring to him which made him drop his jaw playfully as if he was offended.

the two of you laughed. "what about you?" you asked.

ultraman tilted his head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. "oh, man, i am beat. i might nap for weeks after tonight, so i'm leaving the city-saving to the new superhero called "little lady". ever heard of her?" ultraman said.

"nah, never. she sounds cool though, probably pretty with big muscles, i assume?" you rode along with his joke, making him laugh.

"oh, yeah, definitely. really pretty thing," he said casually.

your laughter halted upon hearing what he said, making your cheeks and ears flush at the compliment. when he finally realized the words that came out of his mouth, ultraman fixed his posture and stuttered an excuse. you laughed and patted his palm. "don't worry, hypnotizing people to make 'em think i'm good-looking is part of my one hundred and three superpowers."

ultraman let out a hearty laugh at this, making your stomach warm by hearing it. "yeah? better get started to knowing each one."

you smiled at him and took a deep breath. your conversation had finally stopped, the two of you thinking about your own things. after a few more small talk, ultraman had decided to call it a night to let his body rest after the fight with the kaiju. you agreed and he let you down from his palm before standing up to his height that surpassed the building's.

"also, if you want dinner, tonkatsu tonki is the place to go." he said before waving off and flying off.

and the sixth time was now. "hey." you greeted, a tired expression visible on your face.

"always in the centre of the tornado, huh, little ma'am?" he said as he had you in his palms once more, walking you towards the evacuation center.

"lucky me," you sarcastically said.

"lucky you, my personal damsel in distress." he echoed you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes.

taglist: @ttulipwritezz @c-losur3 @saeyari @luvly-writer

[teddybeartoji]

toji taking little gumi to his first judo match and you know that toji is sitting in the first row with miki, cheering him on with strong words.

and by that i mean that he's not yelling, he's barely raising his voice but he the tone is just so confident, so sure and determined that it makes gumi feel stronger too. simple things like "c'mon, gumi." and "ya have him, ya have him." are enough to clear the boy's mind – there are so many sounds and noises all around him, he's not even the only one who's doing this right now. bright lights and what feels like a hundred pairs of eyes on him were distracting before, overwhelming. but when he sees his dad, clear as day, he knows he can do it.

taking a deep breath in, little gumi eyes his opponent while thinking about everything his old man has been teaching him. patience. the other boy is excited (though gumi is too) and he's more hyper, bouncing around, trying his best to grab onto megumi's attire but he keeps getting swatted away. toji's green eyes meet gumi's over the kid's shoulders and it's the final boost of confidence he needs – in two swift moves, megumi has the boy on the floor, signaling that the match has finally come to an end.

he hears the deep rasp and his head snaps to the voice.

"that's my boy."

he doesn't yell, he doesn't scream – toji now stands by the bleachers with a proud grin on his face with a cheerful miki right beside him. his voice is steady as ever as he praises his from the distance. megumi will never forget this moment.

(toji knows how flustered his son can get if he's under the spotlight and while it is, sometimes, fun to tease him just a little for it – he would never do it in a situation like this. he wants gumi to feel good about his win, he wants him to have fun. he wants him to feel proud of himself too.)

a tiny smile, the faintest one, creeps onto megumi's lips and toji's heart is about to give out. his boy. his son. his little blessing. he watches the coach? grab his tiny hand to rightfully end the match and to show the winner to the crowd around them and toji takes a mental picture of the sight.

gumi's hand reaches up high with the help of the man beside him and he looks like a proper winner. the little boy's cheeks are flushed red from the tussling and his outfit is all disheveled from being yanked around but he looks happy. toji couldn't be more pleased.

and then gumi makes his way over to his dad and sister with haste steps. his arms reach out for toji and he's quick to reciprocate, pulling his baby boy up into his embrace. he hold gumi's head to his neck, knowing that he likes to hide there whenever he's feeling a bit too much.

"ya did s'good, gumi."

tiny fingers dig into toji's sweatshirt and toji knows that megumi heard him. really heard him. he will, of course, keep saying it again and again throughout the day but right now, he just really needed to make sure that gumi knows.

tsumiki fiddles with the hem of gumi's pants and toji gives her a smile before ruffling her hair. her scrunched up face, makes the corners of his own lips tug ever wider as he rumbles out a chuckle.

"wanna go home now?"

toji scratches gumi's warm back in order to get an answer out of him and the only thing he gets is a nod against his neck. and that's more than enough.

[rue-isabelle]

Aphrodite of Formula 1

Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.

---

Charles and Alexandra

Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.

Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.

Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”

Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.

Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”

“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.

Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.

Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.

---

Carlos and Rebecca

Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.

“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.

“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.

“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”

Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”

Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.

Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...

She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”

“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.

Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.

---

Max and Kelly

Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.

“Max,” Kelly said sharply.

He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.”

Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”

“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”

Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”

Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”

Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.

Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.

---

Oscar and Lily

Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.

“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.

Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”

“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”

Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”

“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”

---

George and Carmen

Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.

“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.

George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”

Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)

“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”

George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”

“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.

George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.

---

Pierre and Kika

Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.

“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.

Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”

Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.

Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.

Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.

They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.

---

Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.

When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”

Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”

Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”

She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.

Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.

Part 2. Part 3

[phamapple]

LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

When Y/N, a shy and talented student, catches the eye of schools celebrity Karina, she's swept into a whirlwind romance. But as they navigate the challenges of fame and relationships, they must confront their own feelings and doubts. Will their love shine bright, or will it fade under the spotlight?

Warnings; fluff, angst, fem!reader, kissing, ups and downs, Karina is lowk down bad, freader is mean at first, mentions of bullying and past trauma, lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 8.7k WC

Karina was the kind of girl who commanded attention without even trying. Her stunning looks, athletic build, and charming personality made her the campus crush. Everyone knew her name, and everyone wanted to be her friend – or more.

As she walked down the hallway, her long legs striding confidently, she flashed a bright smile at her admirers. She was used to being the center of attention, and she lapped it up like a cat in cream.

But amidst all the chaos, there was one person who remained oblivious to Karina's charms. Y/N, the quiet girl who always kept to herself, didn't even glance up as Karina passed by. She was too busy scribbling notes in her journal, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

Karina's eyes flicked to Y/N, a familiar pang of curiosity sparking within her. Why did this girl remain so immune to her charms? What was it about her that made Karina want to try harder?

As Karina continued down the hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was missing out on something special. And she was determined to find out what that was.

—

The crowd was electric, cheering and chanting Karina's name as she took to the court. She was a force to be reckoned with, her movements fluid and confident as she dribbled the ball down the court.

But amidst all the chaos, Karina's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for one person in particular. And then, she spotted her – Y/N, sitting at the back, her head down as she scribbled in her notebook.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Y/N's dark hair, her slender fingers moving deftly across the page. She felt a surge of determination – she was going to make Y/N notice her, no matter what.

As the game began, Karina put on a show, sinking shots and making impossible passes. The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling, but Y/N didn't even flinch. She just kept drawing, her eyes fixed on the page.

Karina tried everything – she spun the ball on her finger, she did a behind-the-back dribble, she even attempted a slam dunk. But no matter what she did, Y/N didn't spare her a glance.

It was as if Karina was invisible, and it was driving her crazy. She began to wonder if she was just a ghost, floating around unnoticed by the one person she wanted to impress.

But then, Karina caught a glimpse of Y/N's profile, her eyes flashing with annoyance as she gave a side glare to the people sitting next to her. They were being too loud, and Y/N's patience was wearing thin.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that Y/N wasn't as oblivious as she seemed. She was just... selective. And Karina was determined to be the one she selected.

As the match drew to a close, Karina noticed Y/N getting up from her seat, an annoyed look on her face. Karina's eyes lingered on Y/N for a moment before she turned her attention back to her teammates, who were gathering for a group photo.

As soon as the photo was taken, the coach dismissed them to take showers. Karina quickly rushed out of the gym, her eyes scanning the hallway for any sign of Y/N. Her "fans" cheered and followed her, but she managed to lose them in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted Y/N in the hallway, packing up her bags. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she approached Y/N, a playful smirk spreading across her face.

"Look whose in a hurry," Karina said, leaning against her locker.

But Y/N didn't even glance up. She just kept packing, ignoring Karina completely.

Karina's eyes never left Y/N's back as she walked away, her smirk faltering for a moment. She was taken aback by Y/N's complete disregard for her. No one ignored Karina like that. Ever.

For a moment, Karina just stood there, frozen in surprise. Her fans, who had finally caught up to her, looked on in confusion, wondering why Karina wasn't reacting to Y/N's brush-off.

But then, Karina's expression changed. Her eyes narrowed, and a determined glint sparked within them. She pushed off from the locker and started walking, her long strides eating up the distance between her and Y/N.

"You know, I'm not used to being ignored," Karina said, her voice low and smooth, as she fell into step beside Y/N.

Y/N didn't even flinch, just kept walking with her eyes fixed on the floor ahead.

Karina's smile grew wider, her competitive streak kicking in. She was intrigued by Y/N's indifference, and she was determined to get a reaction out of her.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little... distracted," Karina said, trying to sound concerned.

But Y/N just kept walking, her silence a palpable force that Karina couldn't seem to penetrate.

Karina's eyes locked onto Y/N's, her heart racing with anticipation. She had expected Y/N to be beautiful, but nothing had prepared her for the intensity of Y/N's gaze. Those dark features seemed to draw Karina in, making her feel like she was drowning in their depths.

Y/N's words, however, were like a splash of cold water. "You know, you're quite talkative," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.

Karina's face fell, her excitement deflating like a punctured balloon. She had been expecting... something more. A spark of connection, maybe, or a glimmer of interest. But Y/N's words were like a slap in the face, leaving Karina feeling silly and exposed.

"Hey, someone's got to fill the silence," Karina said, trying to sound casual despite the sting of Y/N's words. She leaned against the locker, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression still unreadable. "Is that what you're doing?" she asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that Y/N was actually engaging with her. It might not be the most enthusiastic conversation, but it was a start. And Karina was determined to see it through.

Karina continued walking side to side with Y/N, her eyes still locked on Y/N's face. "So, what's your favorite subject?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice flat.

Karina felt a flutter in her chest as she met Y/N's gaze. There was something about Y/N's reserve that drew her in, made her want to chip away at that tough exterior. "I care because I'm interested," Karina said, her voice a little softer.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing. For a moment, Karina felt like she was being stripped bare, her motivations laid out for Y/N to see. But then, Y/N's expression softened, just a fraction.

"Math," Y/N said, her voice a little less flat.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she smiled, feeling a spark of connection. "Really? I'm more of a language person myself."

As they talked, Karina found herself becoming more and more attracted to Y/N. There was something about Y/N's quiet confidence, her sharp intellect, that drew Karina in.

But Y/N's past seemed to be shrouded in mystery, and Karina couldn't help but wonder what had made Y/N so reserved, so wary of connection.

As they talked, Karina couldn't help but notice the vast differences between them. Y/N was quiet and reserved, while Karina was outgoing and confident. Y/N was a math whiz, while Karina struggled with numbers. Y/N was content with solitude, while Karina thrived on social interaction.

Despite these differences, Karina found herself drawn to Y/N. She loved the way Y/N's eyes sparkled when she talked about math, the way her hair fell in soft waves down her back. Karina was captivated by Y/N's intelligence, her wit, and her quiet strength.

As they stood there, locked in conversation, Karina felt a sense of connection she couldn't ignore. She took a step closer to Y/N, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Hey, can I get your number?" Karina asked, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering across her face. For a moment, Karina worried that she had misread the situation entirely.

But then, Y/N's expression softened. She smiled, just a little, and reached into her bag for her phone.

"Sure," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as Y/N's fingers brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. She felt like she was melting into Y/N's eyes, losing herself in their depths.

Just as Y/N was about to hand over her phone, a loud voice boomed down the hallway.

"Karina, we need to talk!"

Karina's head jerked up, her eyes scanning the hallway until they landed on her best friend, Rachel, striding towards her with a determined look on her face.

"Rachel, what's up?" Karina asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the disappointment coursing through her veins.

Rachel glanced at Y/N, her eyes narrowing slightly. "We need to discuss the party tonight," she said, her voice firm.

Karina sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. She didn't want to leave Y/N's side, not when things were finally starting to heat up.

But Rachel's expression was unyielding, and Karina knew she had no choice but to follow her friend.

"Sorry, I'll catch you later," Karina said, smiling apologetically at Y/N.

Y/N nodded, her expression unreadable. "Later," she repeated, her voice soft.

As Karina turned to follow Rachel, she felt a pang of disappointment. She had been so close to getting Y/N's number, to making a real connection with her.

But as she glanced back over her shoulder, she caught Y/N's eye, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she realized that this wasn't the end of their conversation. Not by a long shot.

Karina tried to focus on the party, laughing and chatting with Rachel and the other guests. But her mind kept wandering back to Y/N, wondering what she was doing right now, whether she was thinking about her too.

Rachel noticed Karina's distraction and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, what's going on?" she asked, her voice low.

Karina hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But Rachel was her best friend, and she knew she could trust her.

"I met someone today," Karina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rachel's eyes widened with interest. "Who?" she asked, her voice eager.

Karina smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Her name is Y/N. I met her at school today."

Rachel's expression turned thoughtful. "I think I know who you might be talking about," she said. " oh the quiet girl that her hair always covers her face?"

Karina nodded, her heart racing with excitement. "That's her."

Rachel grinned mischievously. "I can help you track her down," she said. "I'm sure I can find her socials or something."

Karina's eyes lit up with hope. "Really?" she asked, her voice eager.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, I'll do some digging. But you have to promise me one thing."

Karina raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?" she asked.

Rachel's expression turned serious. "You have to be careful, Karina. We don't know much about Y/N, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Karina nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Rachel. "I'll be careful," she promised.

And with that, Rachel set off to track down Y/N's socials, leaving Karina to wonder what the future might hold for her and the mysterious Y/N.

—

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she spotted Y/N on the rooftop, her sketchbook open on her lap. She felt a rush of excitement, remembering the way Y/N's eyes had sparkled when they talked about art.

As she approached Y/N, Karina noticed that the other girl was completely absorbed in her drawings, her pencil moving swiftly across the paper. Karina smiled, feeling a sense of wonder at Y/N's talent.

She sat down beside Y/N, trying not to startle her. Y/N looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Karina's presence.

"Hey," Karina said, trying to sound casual.

Y/N nodded, her eyes dropping back down to her sketchbook. "Hey."

The silence between them was comfortable, but Karina couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was still wary of her. She glanced over at Y/N's sketchbook, her eyes widening as she took in the beautiful drawings.

"You're really talented," Karina said, her voice sincere.

Y/N's pencil paused, her eyes flicking up to meet Karina's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

Then, Y/N's gaze dropped back down to her sketchbook, her pencil beginning to move once more. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Karina smiled, feeling a sense of triumph. It was a small step, but at least Y/N was talking to her again. And as she sat there beside Y/N, watching her draw, Karina felt a sense of peace wash over her.

As they sat there, Karina noticed that Y/N's drawings seemed to be getting more and more intricate. She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning the paper.

"What are you drawing?" Karina asked, her voice soft.

Y/N's pencil paused, her eyes flicking up to meet Karina's. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them building.

Then, Y/N's gaze dropped back down to her sketchbook, a small smile playing on her lips. "You," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's face flushed with surprise and delight as she took in Y/N's words. No one had ever drawn her before, let alone as a gift.

As she took the piece of paper from Y/N, Karina's hands trembled slightly. She stared down at the drawing, her eyes widening in amazement.

It was her, all right. Y/N had captured her likeness perfectly, from the shape of her eyes to the curve of her smile. But it was more than just a physical likeness - Y/N had somehow managed to capture her spirit, her essence.

Karina's eyes stung with tears as she looked up at Y/N. "It's beautiful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, looking pleased with herself. "I'm glad you like it," she said.

Karina's gaze dropped back down to the drawing, her heart swelling with emotion. This was more than just a gift - it was a connection, a bond between her and Y/N.

As she looked at the drawing, Karina felt like she was seeing herself through Y/N's eyes. And what she saw was a person who was worthy of love and acceptance, quiet personality and all.

Karina's eyes met Y/N's, and she smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and affection. "Thank you," she said, her voice sincere.

Y/N smiled back, looking happy and relieved. "You're welcome," she said.

As they sat there, the drawing between them, Karina felt like she was on the verge of something new, something special. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew that she wanted to explore it with Y/N by her side.

—

Karina's mind was racing as she walked home from school. She couldn't stop thinking about Y/N's beautiful drawing, and she felt a surge of gratitude towards the quiet artist.

As she entered her house, Karina was greeted by her assistant, who handed her a stack of fan mail and scheduling commitments. But Karina's attention was elsewhere. She walked over to her desk, where she kept her own art supplies, and began to rummage through them.

She pulled out a set of paints, a canvas, and a few brushes. As she started to work on a new piece, Karina felt a sense of calm wash over her. This was her way of relaxing, of expressing herself.

As she painted, Karina's thoughts turned to Y/N. She wanted to create something special for her, something that would show her how much she appreciated the drawing.

Hours passed, and Karina lost herself in her art. Finally, she stepped back to admire her work. It was a beautiful portrait of Y/N, captured in a moment of quiet contemplation.

Karina smiled, feeling proud of herself. This was the perfect gift for Y/N. She carefully wrapped the canvas in paper, eager to present it to Y/N the next day.

The next morning, Karina arrived at school early, her gift in hand. She spotted Y/N sitting on the rooftop, her sketchbook open on her lap. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she approached Y/N, her gift at the ready.

"Hey," Karina said, trying to sound casual.

Y/N looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Hey."

Karina smiled, holding out her gift. "I made something for you."

Y/N's eyes widened as she took in the wrapped canvas. "What is it?" she asked, her voice curious.

Karina grinned mischievously. "Open it and see."

Y/N's fingers trembled slightly as she unwrapped the paper. And when she saw the portrait, her eyes went wide with wonder.

"It's beautiful," Y/N breathed.

Karina beamed with pride. "I'm glad you like it."

Y/N's gaze met Karina's, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. The air was charged with emotion, and Karina felt like she was drowning in Y/N's eyes.

As Karina and Y/N grew closer, Karina's fans began to take notice. At first, it was just a few curious glances, but soon, Y/N found herself surrounded by paparazzi and screaming fans.

Y/N was overwhelmed. She had always valued her anonymity, and the sudden attention was suffocating her. She tried to avoid Karina at school, but it was impossible.

Karina noticed Y/N's withdrawal and felt a pang of guilt. She knew that her celebrity status was the reason for Y/N's distress, and she didn't know how to fix it.

One day, as they sat together on the rooftop, Karina turned to Y/N with a concerned expression. "Hey, is everything okay? You've been avoiding me lately."

Y/N sighed, looking down at her feet. "It's just...I don't like all the attention. I like being invisible."

Karina nodded understandingly. "I get it. But I don't want to lose you because of my fans. Can't we find a way to make this work?"

Y/N looked up, her eyes searching Karina's face. "I don't know...I just feel like I'm losing myself in all of this."

Karina's heart went out to Y/N. She knew that she had to find a way to protect Y/N's anonymity, or risk losing her altogether.

As Y/N walked down the empty hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. She had been trying to avoid Karina's fans all day, but it seemed like they were everywhere.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around, and her heart sank as she saw the mean popular girl, Victoria, and her minions approaching her.

Victoria's eyes narrowed as she looked at Y/N. "So, you're the one who's been getting all the attention from Karina," she sneered.

Y/N tried to stand her ground, but she could feel her legs trembling. "What do you want, Victoria?" she asked, trying to sound brave.

Victoria sneered. "I want you to stay away from Karina. She's way out of your league."

Y/N felt a surge of anger, but before she could respond, Victoria's minions closed in on her. They pushed her against the wall, and Y/N felt a wave of fear wash over her.

Victoria's eyes gleamed with malice as she leaned in close to Y/N. "You're just a nobody," she hissed. "And nobody gets to steal Karina's attention from me."

Y/N tried to defend herself, but Victoria's minions were too strong. They pushed her to the ground, and Y/N felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her.

As she lay there, helpless and alone, Y/N couldn't help but think that she was right back where she started. The trauma of her past was repeating itself, and she felt like she was all alone in the world.

—

As Karina walked into the infirmary, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Y/N. She was sitting on a bed, her eyes fixed on the floor, and her face pale. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of Y/N's bruises.

She rushed over to Y/N's bedside, her concern and worry evident on her face. "I heard what happened to you, and I'm truly sorry about that," Karina said, her voice filled with empathy.

As she sat down on the edge of the bed, Karina reached out to take Y/N's hand, but Y/N just gave her a cold gaze. Her normal expression and personality seemed to be back in place, and Karina felt a pang of heartbreak.

Karina looked at Y/N, trying to understand why she was pushing her away. "Y/N, I...I just wanted to make sure you're okay," Karina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Y/N just kept staring at her, her eyes empty of emotion. Karina felt a lump form in her throat as she realized that Y/N didn't want to see her.

"I'll leave," Karina said, trying to sound calm. "It seems like you don't want to see me right now."

As Karina stood up to leave, Y/N's gaze never wavered. Karina felt a stinging sensation in her eyes as she turned and walked away, feeling heartbroken and hurt.

It was all her fault, Karina thought, as she walked out of the infirmary. Y/N had told her that she wanted to remain anonymous, but Karina's celebrity status had blown her cover.

Karina's feelings of guilt and regret quickly turned to anger as she realized who was responsible for Y/N's pain. Victoria. That mean, popular girl who thought she could bully Y/N just because she was getting attention from Karina.

Karina's eyes narrowed as she made a mental note to confront Victoria. She was going to make sure that Victoria paid for what she had done to Y/N.

Karina stormed out of the infirmary, determined to find Victoria and give her a piece of her mind. She marched through the hallways, her eyes scanning the crowds of students until she finally spotted Victoria and her minions hanging out by the lockers.

Karina's anger boiled over as she approached Victoria. "You're the one who hurt Y/N, aren't you?" Karina accused, her voice loud and clear.

Victoria looked up, a sneer on her face. "What's it to you, Karina?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice.

Karina's eyes flashed with anger. "You're going to regret what you did to Y/N," she said, her voice low and menacing.

Victoria just laughed, but Karina could see the faintest glimmer of fear in her eyes. Karina smiled, satisfied. She was going to make sure that Victoria paid for what she had done.

Karina's eyes narrowed as she confronted Victoria. "You're going to apologize to Y/N," she said, her voice firm and commanding.

Victoria sneered, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Why should I?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice.

Karina's face darkened. "Because you bullied her, and now you're going to make amends."

Victoria's ego wouldn't budge. "I'm not apologizing to anyone," she said, her voice rising.

Karina's anger boiled over. She took a step closer to Victoria, her eyes blazing. "You're going to regret saying that," she said, her voice low and menacing.

And with that, Karina began to bully Victoria. She mocked her, belittled her, and made her feel small and insignificant. Victoria tried to fight back, but Karina was relentless.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Victoria broke down. She collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

Karina's expression softened slightly. "Apologize to Y/N," she said, her voice firm but not unkind.

Victoria scrambled to her feet, her eyes red and puffy. She stumbled over to Y/N, who was watching the scene with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I'm sorry," Victoria sobbed, throwing herself at Y/N's feet. "I was wrong to bully you. Please forgive me."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What happened to you?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Victoria just sobbed, unable to speak.

Y/N's gaze turned to Karina, who was watching the scene with a mixture of satisfaction and guilt. "Karina, what did you do?" Y/N asked, her voice firm but curious.

Karina's expression was enigmatic. "I just made sure Victoria understood the importance of apologizing," she said, her voice neutral.

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "There's more to it than that," she said, her voice firm. "Tell me what really happened."

Karina sighed, knowing she couldn't keep the truth from Y/N. "I may have bullied Victoria a bit," she admitted, her voice sheepish.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "You bullied her?" she repeated, her voice incredulous.

Karina nodded, looking guilty. "I just wanted to make sure she apologized to you," she said, her voice defensive.

Y/N's expression was thoughtful. "I appreciate what you did, Karina," she said, her voice sincere. "But next time, can you just talk to me about it instead of taking matters into your own hands?"

Karina smiled, feeling relieved. "I promise," she said, her voice filled with conviction.

And with that, the two girls shared a warm smile, their bond stronger than ever.

—

Rachel had always been Karina's closest confidante, but lately, she'd noticed a change in Karina's behavior. Karina seemed distant, preoccupied, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with Y/N.

As she watched Karina and Y/N interact, Rachel's suspicions grew. She saw the way Karina looked at Y/N, the way she smiled at her, and the way she seemed to light up in her presence.

Rachel's instincts told her that Karina had developed feelings for Y/N, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, she was happy to see Karina happy, but on the other hand, she was worried about the potential consequences.

What if Y/N didn't feel the same way? What if their relationship became public and damaged Karina's reputation?

Rachel decided to meddle, to try and protect Karina from potentially getting hurt. She started by casually mentioning Y/N's name in conversation, trying to gauge Karina's reaction.

"Hey, Karina, how's Y/N doing?" Rachel asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Karina's eyes flickered, and she seemed to pause for a moment before responding. "She's doing okay, I guess," Karina said, her voice neutral.

Rachel's eyes narrowed. She knew Karina well enough to recognize the signs of evasion. "What's going on between you two?" Rachel asked, her voice probing.

Karina's expression turned guarded. "Nothing's going on, Rach. We're just friends."

Rachel raised an eyebrow. She didn't believe Karina for a second. "Save it, Karina," Rachel said, her voice dry. "I know you too well."

Karina's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Rachel, drop it, okay?"

But Rachel just smiled sweetly. "I'm just looking out for you, Karina. You know that."

Karina's expression turned skeptical, and Rachel knew she'd planted a seed of doubt in Karina's mind. But as she watched Karina walk away, Rachel couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made things worse.

Rachel was determined to prove that Y/N was using Karina for her fame. She started by snooping around Y/N's social media accounts, looking for any clues that might suggest Y/N was taking advantage of Karina's celebrity status.

As she scrolled through Y/N's posts, Rachel's eyes narrowed. She noticed that Y/N had been posting more frequently since she'd started hanging out with Karina, and that many of her posts seemed to be subtly referencing Karina's favorite music or movies.

Rachel's suspicions were aroused. She decided to do some more digging, and started by asking around to see if anyone else had noticed anything suspicious about Y/N's behavior.

She approached some of Karina's other friends, trying to casually bring up the topic of Y/N. But no matter how hard she tried, Rachel couldn't seem to get anyone to agree with her. They all seemed to think that Y/N was a great person, and that she and Karina made a wonderful couple.

Rachel was frustrated. She knew that she was right, and that Y/N was just using Karina for her fame. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to prove it.

Just as Rachel was about to give up, she stumbled upon a cryptic message on Y/N's social media account. It was a post that seemed to be referencing Karina's latest basketball match, and Rachel's eyes narrowed as she read the words.

"Seems like someone is trying to ride the coattails of fame," Rachel muttered to herself, her mind racing with possibilities.

Meanwhile, Karina had been oblivious to Rachel's meddling. But when she stumbled upon Rachel snooping through Y/N's social media accounts, she was furious.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Karina demanded, her voice low and angry.

Rachel looked up, startled. "I'm just trying to protect you, Karina," she said, her voice defensive.

"Protect me from what?" Karina asked, her eyes flashing with anger.

Rachel hesitated. "From Y/N. I think she's using you for your fame."

Karina's face darkened. "That's not true," she said, her voice firm. "Y/N is my friend, and I trust her."

The two friends argued back and forth, their voices growing louder and more heated. They stood in the hallway, attracting the attention of passing students.

"You're just blinded by your feelings for her," Rachel accused, her voice venomous.

"I'm not blinded," Karina shot back. "I know exactly what I'm doing. And I know that Y/N would never use me for my fame."

Rachel scoffed. "You're so naive, Karina. You think everyone is as nice and genuine as you are."

Karina's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not naive," she said, her voice cold. "I just choose to see the best in people."

The argument continued, with neither side willing to back down. Finally, Karina stormed off, leaving Rachel looking upset and worried.

Y/N, who was sitting in the library studying, couldn't help but notice the tension between Karina and Rachel. She wondered what was going on, and felt a pang of concern.

Is everything okay between Karina and Rachel? Y/N wondered.

As she watched, Rachel got up and walked out of the hallway, looking upset. Y/N's curiosity was piqued. She decided to go and talk to Karina, to see if everything was okay.

Y/N got up and walked out of the library, looking for Karina. She finally found her sitting in the courtyard, looking upset.

"Hey," Y/N said, sitting down beside Karina. "What's going on?"

Karina looked up, her eyes flashing with anger. "It's just Rachel," she said, her voice cold. "She's being ridiculous."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "What's going on with Rachel?" she asked, her voice concerned.

Karina sighed. "She thinks you're using me for my fame," she said, her voice bitter.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? That's not true," she said, her voice firm.

Karina smiled, her eyes softening. "I know it's not true," she said, her voice gentle. "I trust you, Y/N."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Karina's words. She felt a rush of emotion, and suddenly realized that she had developed strong feelings for Karina.

—

As Y/N stepped into the school, she was immediately bombarded by whispers and giggles. She tried to ignore it, thinking it was just the usual morning chatter, but as she walked down the hallway, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

She noticed students glancing at her, smiling and nodding in her direction. Y/N's confusion deepened. What was going on?

Finally, she mustered up the courage to approach a student who was standing by her locker. "Hey, can I ask you something?" Y/N said, trying to sound casual.

The student turned to her, a bright smile on her face. "Of course, Y/N! Congratulations, by the way."

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Congratulations for what?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

The student's smile grew wider. "For you and Karina, of course! I'm so happy for you both. You make a great couple."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. Couple? What was she talking about?

And then it hit her. The rumors. The whispers. The giggles. It all made sense now.

Y/N felt a wave of panic wash over her. She didn't want to be involved in any dating rumors. She didn't want to be the subject of gossip and speculation.

She quickly excused herself and made her way to Karina's locker. Karina was standing there, chatting with her friends, but when she saw Y/N approaching, she smiled and walked over to her.

"Hey, what's up?" Karina asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Y/N took a deep breath. "Karina, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, trying to sound calm.

Karina nodded, and Y/N pulled her aside. "I need to ask you something," Y/N said, her voice low. "Can you please shut down the rumors about us?"

Karina's expression turned confused. "What rumors?" she asked, her voice innocent.

Y/N sighed. "The rumors about us dating. I don't want to be involved in any of that."

Karina's face fell, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. But then Karina nodded, a small smile on her face.

"Of course, Y/N. I'll take care of it."

Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. But as she turned to walk away, Karina called out to her.

"Y/N, wait."

Y/N turned back to Karina, who was looking at her with a concerned expression.

"Is everything okay?" Karina asked, her voice soft. "You seem a little distant."

Y/N hesitated. She didn't want to hurt Karina's feelings, but she needed some space to think about her own feelings.

"I'm fine, Karina," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I just need some time to myself, okay?"

Karina nodded, looking a little sad. "Okay, Y/N. If you need me, I'll be here."

As Y/N walked away, she could feel Karina's eyes on her. She knew Karina was sad, but she needed this time to herself.

Over the next few days, Y/N kept her distance from Karina. She stopped sitting with her at lunch, and she avoided her in the hallways.

Karina noticed, and she was sad about it. She missed Y/N's bright smile and her infectious laugh.

But Karina respected Y/N's boundaries. She gave her the space she needed, hoping that eventually, Y/N would come back to her.

As the days turned into weeks, Karina couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Y/N's mind. Was she okay? Was she still thinking about their conversation?

Karina's heart ached with longing. She missed Y/N, and she couldn't wait to see her again.

But for now, she would wait. She would give Y/N the space she needed, and hope that eventually, they could go back to the way things were before.

—

Karina and Y/N were both surprised when their teacher, Mrs. Johnson, assigned them to work together on a project. They had been avoiding each other for weeks, and the thought of spending time together again was daunting.

But Mrs. Johnson was insistent. "I think you two will make a great team," she said, smiling at them. "You both have unique skills and perspectives that will complement each other well."

Karina and Y/N exchanged a skeptical glance, but they knew they had no choice. They reluctantly agreed to work together, and Mrs. Johnson handed them a folder with the project details.

As they left the classroom, Karina turned to Y/N and asked, "So, where do you want to start?"

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. What did Mrs. Johnson say the project was about again?"

Karina pulled out the folder and flipped through the pages. "It's a multimedia presentation about the impact of social media on society," she said, scanning the assignment sheet.

Y/N's eyes widened. "That sounds like a lot of work."

Karina nodded. "I know. But we can do it. We just need to divide up the tasks and work together."

Y/N hesitated, clearly unsure about working with Karina again. But Karina could see the faintest glimmer of interest in her eyes, and she knew that Y/N was intrigued by the project.

"Come on," Karina said, smiling at Y/N. "It'll be fun. We can work at my house, and I'll order some pizza."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly tempted by the offer. "Okay, fine," she said finally. "But just for the project."

Karina grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. "I'll pick you up at 3 pm tomorrow."

As they parted ways, Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this project would be the start of something new between her and Y/N.

The next day, Karina pulled up to Y/N's house in her sleek black car. Y/N was waiting outside, looking adorable in a pair of ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt.

"Hey," Y/N said, sliding into the passenger seat.

Karina smiled, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Hey."

As they drove to Karina's house, the tension between them was palpable. But Karina was determined to keep things light and friendly, at least for now.

When they arrived at Karina's house, they settled in at the kitchen table, surrounded by laptops, notebooks, and snacks. Karina ordered some pizza, and they spent the next few hours brainstorming ideas and working on their presentation.

As the sun began to set, Karina realized that she was having more fun than she'd had in weeks. Y/N was laughing and joking with her, and for a moment, it felt like old times.

But as the night wore on, Karina couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was still holding back. She seemed hesitant to meet Karina's eye, and her smiles were fleeting.

Karina wondered what was going on in Y/N's mind. Was she still unsure about her feelings? Was she afraid of getting hurt again?

As they packed up their things and prepared to part ways, Karina felt a pang of disappointment. She didn't want the night to end, didn't want to lose the connection they'd reestablished.

"Thanks for tonight," Y/N said, smiling at Karina.

Karina smiled back, feeling a sense of hope. "No problem. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 3 pm again."

Y/N nodded, and Karina walked her to the door. As they said their goodbyes, Karina felt a spark of electricity as their hands touched.

It was a small moment, but it gave Karina the courage to keep trying. She knew that she still had a long way to go to win Y/N back, but she was willing to do whatever it took.

As she watched Y/N walk away, Karina felt a sense of determination. She was going to make this project count, and she was going to win Y/N's heart back, no matter what it took.

As they finished their project, Karina and Y/N felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. They had worked tirelessly to create a stunning multimedia presentation, and it had paid off.

"I'm so glad we got to work together on this," Y/N said, smiling at Karina.

Karina's heart skipped a beat as she met Y/N's gaze. She had been wanting to tell Y/N how she felt for weeks, but she had been too afraid.

"I'm glad too," Karina said, trying to sound casual. "We make a great team."

Y/N nodded, and they both sat back to admire their handiwork. The presentation was impressive, with sleek graphics and smooth transitions.

As they sat there, Karina couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N. She was beautiful, with her long hair and bright smile. And she was smart and talented, too.

Karina felt her heart fluttering in her chest. She knew she had to tell Y/N how she felt, but she was scared. What if Y/N didn't feel the same way?

As they packed up their things and prepared to leave, Karina realized that she couldn't let the moment slip away. She had to tell Y/N how she felt, no matter how scared she was.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Karina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N looked at her curiously, but she nodded. "Of course, Karina. What's up?"

Karina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she knew she had to be brave.

"Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew that you were someone special," Karina said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I was drawn to your kindness, your intelligence, and your beauty. And as we worked together on this project, I realized that my feelings for you went far beyond friendship."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Karina with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

"I know that I may have scared you off before," Karina continued, her voice filled with regret. "But I want you to know that my feelings for you are real. And I was wondering if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way."

The room was silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the computers. Y/N's eyes were fixed on Karina's, and for a moment, Karina thought she saw a glimmer of reciprocation.

But then Y/N looked away, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Karina, I...I don't know what to say," she stammered.

Karina's heart sank, but she refused to give up. She took a step closer to Y/N, her eyes locked on hers.

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N," Karina said, her voice soft. "Just know that my feelings for you are real. And I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you're ready."

Y/N looked up at Karina, her eyes searching hers. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them palpable.

Then Y/N looked away, her face still flushed with embarrassment. "I need some time to think, Karina," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment. But she also felt a sense of hope. Y/N hadn't rejected her outright, and that was all that mattered.

"I understand, Y/N," Karina said, her voice soft. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

As they parted ways, Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. Would Y/N ever feel the same way? Or would Karina be left waiting forever?

But one thing was for sure: Karina had confessed her feelings, and now all she could do was wait and see how Y/N would respond.

—

Y/N's eyes searched Karina's face, looking for any sign of insincerity. She had been hurt before, and she wasn't about to let her guard down again without being sure.

"Karina, I need to ask you something," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Karina's eyes locked onto hers, filled with a deep sincerity. "Anything, Y/N. What is it?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Is this...is this just a publicity stunt? Are you just doing this to get attention or boost your image?"

Karina's face fell, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. But then Karina's expression softened, and she reached out to take Y/N's hand.

"Y/N, I promise you, this has nothing to do with publicity or image," Karina said, her voice filled with conviction. "My feelings for you are real. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I wouldn't dare cheapen them by using them for publicity."

Y/N's eyes searched Karina's face, looking for any sign of deception. But all she saw was sincerity and honesty.

"Okay," Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I believe you."

Karina's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she leaned in close to Y/N. "Thank you, Y/N," she whispered, her breath tickling Y/N's ear. "Thank you for believing me."

As they stood there, Y/N felt a spark of electricity run through her body. She knew that she was taking a risk, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

Karina's eyes locked onto hers, filled with a deep longing. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Karina leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Y/N's in a soft, tender kiss.

The world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the magic of their first kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and possibilities, of hopes and dreams.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that she had made the right decision. She had taken a chance on Karina, and it had paid off in the most wonderful way.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and intense. Y/N felt like she was melting into Karina's arms, becoming one with her.

As they finally pulled away from each other, gasping for air, Y/N smiled up at Karina. "I'm so glad I took a chance on you," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Karina's eyes sparkled with happiness, and she leaned in to kiss Y/N again. "I'm glad too," she whispered, her lips brushing against Y/N's. "I'm glad too."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning of their love story. And she couldn't wait to see what the future held for them.

—

Y/N was determined to teach Karina how to bake cookies. She had been baking for years, and she loved the way the sweet aroma filled the kitchen.

Karina, on the other hand, was a disaster waiting to happen. She was clumsy and accident-prone, and Y/N had visions of flour covering every inch of the kitchen.

But Y/N was determined to make it work. She gathered all the ingredients and equipment, and stood patiently as Karina measured out the flour.

As soon as Karina started mixing the dough, Y/N knew they were in trouble. Karina was using a stand mixer, but she had no idea how to control it. The mixer started to spin out of control, covering Karina in a cloud of flour.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "Karina, stop! You're going to cover the entire kitchen in flour!" she exclaimed.

Karina looked up, her face covered in a fine layer of powder. "I'm sorry! I don't know what's happening!" she cried, laughing.

Y/N rushed over to help Karina, and together they managed to wrestle the mixer to the ground. The kitchen was a disaster, but they had managed to salvage the dough.

As they slid the cookies into the oven, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the chaos, they had managed to make something beautiful.

Twenty minutes later, the cookies were done. Y/N and Karina pulled them out of the oven, and the aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air.

They sat down at the kitchen table, surrounded by the chaos of their baking disaster. But as they took their first bites of the cookies, all was forgiven.

The cookies were perfect - chewy on the inside and crispy on the outside. Y/N and Karina sat there, munching on cookies and laughing together.

As they ate, they started to get sleepy. The warmth of the kitchen, combined with the comfort of each other's company, was too much to resist.

Before long, they were both leaning on each other, their heads nodding forward. The cookies were forgotten, left to cool on the kitchen counter.

As they drifted off to sleep, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was exactly where she was meant to be - surrounded by the chaos of the kitchen, and the love of her life.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was waking up to the sound of Karina's gentle snores. They were still sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by the remnants of their baking disaster.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of happiness wash over her. She leaned over and gently kissed Karina's forehead, trying not to wake her.

As she pulled back, Karina's eyes flickered open. She looked up at Y/N, a sleepy smile on her face.

"Hey," Karina whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart skip a beat. "Hey," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. The kitchen was still a mess, but they didn't care. They were happy, and that's all that mattered.

[hoonieyun]

Omg this is kinda silly but imagine enhypen reacting to their girl (who’s in cheer) doing the Christmas dance from mean girls for a Christmas cheer performance

Jingle Bell Rock ✧˖°.

performing jingle bell rock from mean girls in front of enha hyung-line

warnings: suggestive, kissing, consensual touching, provocative outfits and dance moves, 18+ and not proofread LOL genre: fluff, romance, slight angst, college au, enha hyung line x cheerleader!yn notes: thank you for this request!! tbh my requests are closed but i thought it was too good not to do. i hope you were okay that i played around with the story a bit and didn't just leave it strictly to just reacting to the dance LOL

frat bro!heeseung ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1053

— the red velvet two piece mrs. claus outfit that you had on would’ve been really cute if one: you weren’t freezing your ass off and two: your cheer captain wasn’t forcing you and the rest of the cheer team to perform “jingle bell rock” for a winter fundraiser at your university. you would’ve been fine performing in these clothes since they were fairly similar to your cheer uniform but the fact that heeseung, the boy from your finance 301 class, that you have had a crush on was also at the fundraising event for his frat. 

you were dreading having to perform this song because it seems that all of the university student body was in attendance and so was the boy you have been crushing on all semester. your advances towards him tended to fail as you would chicken out last minute to talk to him and since you can’t back out now; you’re taking this opportunity to make a lasting impression on him. who knows, maybe he really likes the song “jingle bell rock”. 

the host of the fundraiser has just finished introducing you and the rest of the cheer team and the audience roars in applause. your cheer team was very popular because you had previously won the national championship for the last 3 years, opposite of the (american) football team who hasn’t won a championship since the late 90s. 

you and the rest of the girls get into position and as the darkness fades into a spotlight that shined over your group, the song began and your routine was in full swing. you had copied the choreography from the movie “mean girls” but since the move didn’t feature a full routine, your cheer captain came up with something for the full song; provocative thigh slap included. 

trying your best to not make eye contact with anyone specific in the crowd, your eyes just happen to land on heeseung as the thigh slap part of the choreography arrives and his eyes are dead set on your figure. you even at some point glance over again and he’s biting his lip and as much as you wanted to grimace at the unspoken interactions between the two of you, you needed to remain composed for the rest of the performance. 

the rest of the performance goes without a hitch and you could say that the cheer team’s popularity was the biggest incentive of this fundraiser because the performance doubled the donations right after you and the rest of the girls left the stage. 

you bid goodbye to some of the cheer girls as they weren’t planning on staying for the whole event and as you contemplated staying, you’re taken out of your thoughts when someone clears their throat behind you. as you turn around to see who it is, you’re met with the one and only, heeseung. 

your cheeks instantly burn a shade of pink and as much as you wanted to run and hide from heeseung, you knew that this was the moment you needed to finally talk to the boy you’ve had a crush on for the last 3 months. 

“you did amazing out there, that outfit looks really good on you.” heeseung says, walking a bit closer so that the gap between the two of you was much smaller. “really?” you ask and he nods, smiling down at you. you mutter a small thank you as you pick up your bag, “you have any plans for the rest of the night?” he asks and you realize you hadn’t fully decided if you were staying for the rest of the fundraiser. 

“if not, i’d like to take you out. this fundraiser blows anyways.” he adds and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his bluntness. “isn’t your frat here? don’t you guys need to kiss up to the rich guys to get more funding for whatever frat stuff you need?” you tease and now it was his turn to chuckle at you. heeseung nods like you had just read him like a book and although you didn’t mean it as an insult; it comes off as a tease and heeseung likes that. 

“yeah, but i mostly came when i heard my favorite cheerleader was going to be here.” he retorts and if your cheeks weren’t already the shade of a tomato, they sure were now. you couldn’t help but admit to him that it was a smooth move and that you’d like to accept his offer. the two of you leave the university hall hand in hand as heeseung brings you over to his car, taking you to the restaurant that just so happened to be your favorite in your college town. 

“ugh, i love this place!” you exclaim in excitement mixed with chill as the cold winter air whips past you. “i know.” heeseung says while nstinctly wrapping his jacket around you as you make your way inside. the two of you get a few things on the menu to share and spend dinner talking about life, finance 301, your future plans, and whatever else popped into your head. 

“wait– you said you knew this was my favorite restaurant, how?” you ask and heeseung seems to get shy; like he had just been caught doing something. “well, i actually asked your cheer captain about you and she told me this would be the best place to take you on a date.” he confessed and you couldn’t help but let the smile you were fighting back just spread across your lips. “date?” you ask and he nods eagerly. 

“i’ve had a crush on you since the first day of finance 301 when you called out the professor for making a sexist comment about your clothes.” he says and you pout at him. not because you were sad, no; far from it, you pouted because his words were so endearing and that his first impression and root of his crush on you stems from you standing up for yourself and morals. you later confessed to heeseung that you also have had a crush on him for the same amount of time and the two of you share a laugh thinking about you would’ve started dating a lot sooner if either of you had just gotten some courage to talk to the other. 

boyfriend!jongseong ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1010

—-  you had a surprise for your boyfriend, one that you knew he would definitely like. you had been on the cheer team at your university since freshman year and have been doing cheer since high school, when you met jay, your loving boyfriend. your cheer team was putting on a special performance for your university’s winter showcase where all proceeds would be donated to buying christmas gifts and holiday presents to the children and families.

the winter showcase was always really fun and for the last 2 years, you and the cheer team avoided participating because you just wanted to enjoy the show for yourselves, but this year; as captain you suggested joining and the rest of the team was surprisingly on board. you had decided on doing the “jingle bell rock” performance from mean girls, minus the chaos towards the end. this movie, although it has questionable humor and moments, was nostalgic to you because you forced jay to watch it when you were in high school and he cringed at the whole thing; prompting him to make you watch something else before the jingle bell rock performance could even happen during the movie. 

in the 4 years that you and jay have been dating, you’ve never been one to dress in revealing clothes, even in your cheer uniform, you opted for the version that was long sleeved and less cropped, the skirt however, a whole different story. you had nothing against revealing clothes, it was just a personal taste that you never got comfortable finding, until recently. the confidence you found when trying on your christmas outfits for the performance was something you hadn’t felt before and with jay’s kindness, who always encouraged you and told you that you are beautiful at least 10 times a day, you were starting to like this side of yourself. 

jay knew you were doing the performance however, he had no idea that the performance would entail a revealing mrs. claus outfit, something he would’ve known had he not stopped the mean girls movie during your sleepover. 

the group before your cheer team was doing their bows and soon you would be up next. you were a bit nervous to see how jay would react because you had never worn something like this before but knowing jay, he would call you beautiful if you were wearing a full mascot suit. you gave the cheer team a quick pep talk and soon enough you were all walking to the center of the stage to get in position. with the lights low and anticipation washing over the crowd, you took one deep breath before the music started. the bright white lights of the stage shone over you and you kept a smile on your face throughout the routine. 

your routine was a mixture of the original dance routine from the movie and more traditional cheer formations and moves. you tried your best to spot jay in the crowd and just as the routine got to the more sexy and provocative part, you make eye contact with him and he’s got his eyes narrowed at you like you were the only person in the room. he often looked at you that way when he was checking you out and right now; he was undoubtedly checking you out. 

you get a bit flustered under his gaze and he lets out a chuckle at your reaction, knowing that his gaze alone had such a big effect on you. you spend the rest of the performance fighting off the urge to look over at jay but failing miserably as you naturally were pulled in his direction; and each time, he held the same gaze that only made your cheeks more red. 

at the end of the showcase, you found jay waiting for you outside, leaning on his car with a black leather jacket– and if he thought you looked good in your performance outfit, he was breathtaking. 

“there’s my favorite cheerleader— or should i say, mrs. claus?” he says as he wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “you did amazing up there.” he adds and you blush under his touch and compliment. jay always knew the right things to say and you melted at his advances and gestures every time. you mutter a small thank you as you place a kiss on his lips—- he later opens the passenger door to help you in and you immediately start his car for him so you could turn the heater on. 

“where we headed, babe?” you ask and jay smirks at you. 

“well, jake is gone for the weekend so i’ve got the whole place to myself.” he explains and you already knew where this was going without him having to explain it. the drive to his place was filled with chatter as you explained the performance and how much he loved it but loved your outfit even more. 

“so does that mean, if you’re sexy mrs. claus, does that make me sexy santa claus?” he asks and you can’t help but laugh at his silly question— “i guess you are, huh?” you answer as he grabs your hand and places a quick kiss on your knuckles before returning both hands on the wheel. the two of you made your way to jay’s apartment and before you could even get fully inside, his hands were on you like he was starving for your touch and kisses. 

the rest of the weekend was filled with tender and loving moments with jay as he tries to convince you to put on a special performance just for him in your outfit. something that was going to occupy his mind until you find a way to replace that image in his head with something even better. “i wish you saved this outfit just for me” he says as he pulls out his polaroid camera from his shelf and aims at you so that he could forever have the memory of you as his sexy mrs. claus as a polaroid picture. 

nerd!jaeyun ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1313

—- jake was pretty shy, at least with others, with you however; he was a completely different person. his usual shy and calm demeanor would shift into a more teasing, outgoing, and even cocky attitude— and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like that side of him. 

to others, jake would be categorized as a nerd. his black thick rimmed glasses, his love for math and physics, his work ethic, and constant drive to have the best academic score he could get; he was definitely a nerd but he was your nerd. your friends used to tease you about your crush on jake because he didn’t seem to be the type to pay any attention to a cheerleader but to jake and everyone’s surprise, he was very impressed with your knowledge on physics– something that made his eyes turn into hearts. 

he likes the fact that you’re smart and the fact that you were a beautiful cheerleader was just a plus to him– not caring about physical attributes or materialistic things when it comes to who he likes or would fall in love with. jake never failed to let you know what he loved about you and it seemed that it was just about everything. sure jake was a nerd, but at home when you were in his arms, he was the furthest from it. 

jake went to all of the games at your university, not because he cared about the sports, but because you would be there in your pretty cheer costume, something that he’s realized to be one of his favorite things. sure you looked attractive in the cheer costume, but seeing your confidence and grace as you perform your cheer routine with that beautiful smile on your pretty lips that he just loved so much and did so many things to him that you couldn’t ever imagine. 

so there you were, getting into position for the halftime performance for your university’s (american) football game before winter break. the cold air nipped at your thighs and knees and turned them a slight red shade but you knew that the cold would only last a few minutes as you’d begin to feel the warmth when your routine started. the people in the audience cheered as you and the rest of the cheer team filed out onto the space in front of the stands and you instantly spotted jake, his big glasses sitting lower on the tip of his nose as he eyed you up and down. you sent him a wave with a flying kiss and he returned it with a wink, causing your heart to flutter. 

jake’s friends teased him, nudging him & laughing at your interaction as he was clearly very flustered and down bad for you; your new outfit for the winter game made his mind run wild. you and the rest of the cheer team were dressed as elves while the school’s mascot had a santa claus outfit on. he loved seeing you in your cheer uniform buit this outfit you had on right now was doing things to him that he hadn’t ever felt before. who knew dressing up as a sexy christmas elf would make your boyfriend get hot in the face and slightly jealous that the rest of the school was also witnessing you in something he wished he could keep all to himself. 

your performance soon started and the familiar tune of jingle bell rock begins. jake wasn’t aware you guys would be doing a christmas themed routine and definitely wasn’t aware how seductive it would be. he tried his best to hold his composure while watching you but he just couldn’t hold out any longer, his last straw being when you slapped your hands onto your soft thighs and he swears he could hear the skin make contact even over the sound of the music and people cheering. 

jake excuses himself in the middle of the performance and his friends barely pay him any attention, all of them too focused on the rest of the cheer team; mesmerized by the routine and their alluring aura. jake’s sudden absence doesn’t go unnoticed by you and your smile fades as you watch him leave, unsure why but hoping that he is okay. jake doesn’t ever return to the game and whenever you’d look over to where he was sitting before, his friends would only give you a shrug when you mouthed to them, “where’s jake?”. even your cheer members noticed his absence and you couldn’t give them an answer outside of “i don’t know” when they’d ask where he ran off to. 

you wished you could just leave and go find him but your phone was in the locker rooms and you were obligated to stay until the end of the game. 

after what felt like eternity, the game was finally over with your university’s team winning and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. you ran to the locker room to grab your phone to call jake only to find one text from him reading, “meet me at our spot.” and you knew exactly where to find him. 

your spot was the abandoned music building on the far side of campus that was no longer in use because your school had built a whole new music building and had no plans for the old building any time soon. you and jake would often meet up there when both of your roommates were home so you could have some time to yourselves. you bid your friends and cheer members goodbye and ran over to your spot; which thankfully wasn’t very far from where the locker rooms were. 

as you got closer to the building, you could see jake’s red 2004 subaru impreza parked in front of the building and judging by how it was parked poorly, he definitely ried to get there in a rush of some sort. you slowly pushed the door open with a creak and were engulfed in the darkness. you reached around for the light switch that was to the left of the entrance but suddenly, all the lights were on and you’re met with christmas lights and decorations adorned throughout the walls with jake sitting in the middle of the opening with a blanket and some of your favorite foods. 

you run over to him and he catches you in his arms just as you jump. “hi pretty.” he says before placing a kiss on your plump lips. “you did this for me?” you ask and he nods while putting you back down on your feet. jake grabs your hand and guides you to blanket, the both of you sitting across from each other and jake has to stop himself from acting out on his feelings as he watches your legs press together while you are still in your costume. 

when you asked jake why he suddenly left, he sighed before responding and confessing that he needed to finish preparing this special moment for the two of you– “is that it..?” you tease and jake chuckles, knowing that it was definitely more to it than just that. 

“and i may or may not think you looked so hot out there. i contemplated just grabbing you mid performance so i could have you all to myself.” he says with a smirk and redness creeps its way onto your cheeks as you melt at his confession. 

you loved every part of jake, but this side of him that was confident, a little cocky, and enticing made your heart do somersaults which was only fair because although jake first fell for you because of how impressed he was with your intelligence, he loved seeing you in your cute outfits and cheer costume that left little to his imagination— but it’s not like it wasn’t something he hadn’t seen plenty of times before. 

jock!sunghoon ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1217

—as cliche as your relationship was with sunghoon as cheerleader and jock, you wouldn't change a single thing. you were both the star crossed lovers of your university and as 4th years, the two of you had become the poster children for your university’s student body and atheltics program. 

the two of you excel in your own sports, cheer and ice hockey, which meant for a lot of competitive games, travelling to play against opposing universities, promotional events, and meetings with sports officials and rich folks to get them to write checks for thousands of dollars directed to your school. you had wished that cheer was just something you could do because you loved dancing and performing but it was starting to become who you were and you weren’t sure that was what you wanted for yourself. 

sunghoon on the other hand, loved it, the praise, the opportunities, sponsorships, all of it. he loved that people loved how good he was at skating and hockey and you couldn’t blame him. he was the all star of your university having been the only freshmen to be added to the varsity roster and scouted by big league officials in just his 2nd year. you were so proud of his trajectory as an athlete but you couldn’t help but think about how you were on the opposite end of that spectrum. 

as sunghoon’s popularity grew he loved the sport more and more—but as your popularity grew, you began to hate the sport and you didn’t know why. 

you had everything, a loving boyfriend, supportive friends and family, on track to graduate, a three year competitive cheer champion and because it was your 4th year, you had been appointed as head cheerleader– so why did you begin to loathe the sport that took over your life at such a young age. 

maybe that was why. 

cheer was everything you knew starting at the age of 6 years old and as much as you were grateful for where cheerleading has brought you, the pressure, the intensity, and constant battle to be on top was starting to feel like you were always fighting for something that you weren’t even sure you wanted anymore. cheerleading had become too competitive and less fun and you just needed to do something that didn’t involve an immense amount of pressure. 

something fun, just for you, and had low stakes. 

and that’s when your university’s performing arts program announced that they would be putting on a winter talent show where all proceeds would go into the arts program and although the sports and arts program didn’t have the best relationship; the sports program being favored over the arts which was a story as old as time, you decided that the talent show would be something you could do. it had no winners, everyone was encouraged to participate, and you thought about how maybe a prominent student being a part of something that could help the arts program would help alleviate the tension between the two sides of the school. 

when you brought this up to your boyfriend sunghoon, he laughed at first, but when he realized that you were serious he wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea. all of his reasons were valid, the arts program hates the athletes and vice versa and he was afraid it would ruin your reputation but you didn’t care. 

you told sunghoon you were just thinking about it and weren’t sure if you would sign up but deep down you were 100% and for the next month or so, you would practice a routine with some of the other cheer girls who you were able to convince to join you for the talent show. 

practicing for the talent show became more enjoyable than cheer practice and even your friends who joined you would agree. the atmosphere of talent show rehearsals was fairly laid back and although the arts students were surprised to see the head cheerleader and 3 other cheerleaders apply for the talent show, you all warmed up to one another fairly quickly. 

it’s the night before the talent show when you finally tell sunghoon that you were going to be in it with some of the girls and you’d be performing a rendition of “jingle bell rock” from mean girls and sunghoon was shocked. not because you ended up joining the talent show without his knowledge but because he knew that scene all too well. a smile breaks out onto his lips as he begins to imagine you in a sexy christmas outfit and he was more than elated to attend to watch his girl be the star you were on stage. 

you tried to calm your nerves as you walked in the darkness to center stage, looking over into the crowd and not seeing any faces was a bit nerve-racking but as the lights emerged from above and jingle bell rock began to play, all of your nerves ceased to exist as the routine went on and you could see sunghoon smiling at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

he looked so happy and… proud. 

even when the parts of the routine got risque thanks to the choreography from the movie, sunghoon and the rest of the audience was cheering and it only boosted you and your friends confidence, knowing that everyone was right behind all of you.

granted, no one actually cared that the popular cheer captain was mingling with the arts students and it seemed like this rivalry was something that was only made up. after the talent show you met up with sunghoon and he still had that silly toothy smile plastered across his face. you gave him several kisses on the cheek as he scooped you up by the waist with a small spin. 

“you were amazing out there.” he says before planting a kiss onto your lips. 

“only because i knew you’d be there…” you say, a bit shy and sunghoon notices this. 

“are you ok?” he asks and you let out a sigh that feels like it had been carrying the weight of the world with it. were you ok? you weren’t sure. 

you tell sunghoon all of your worries while the two of you are sat at the back of his car. you’re laying between his legs, head resting on his chest while he had his arms wrapped around you, rubbing gentle circes on your skin. 

“i wish you told me sooner… you know i would support you in anything you do right?” he asks and although your mind was telling you that you would let him down, you ultimately knew that even though you were the cheerleader, sunghoon was your number 1 cheerleader. 

you spend the rest of the night in his apartment, talking about what else has been worrying the two of you and how after you graduate, you weren’t sure if cheerleading was something you wanted as your career– but you didn’t know what you wanted to do, however, you knew that having sunghoon by your side every step of the way was all you needed.

afterall, he was your biggest cheerleader and if you weren’t a cheerleader anymore, at least you knew that you would have sunghoon in your corner, rooting for you. 

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