#it made a world of difference but it was TOO LATE.

[haologram]

hanging by a moment 🍻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right? genre: estranged childhood friends to lovers au. fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: photographer!jeon wonwoo x fem!baker!reader | side pairing: kim mingyu x chou tzuyu word count: 15.8k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. food mentions. mentions of jealousy, breakups. wonwoo is a little bitter. pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) kissing. what to listen to: here is gone - the goo goo dolls ; over you - daughtry ; broken - lifehouse ; hanging by a moment - lifehouse ; long way home - 5 seconds of summer ; say yes - seventeen author's note: happiest birthday to my baby @wqnwoos ♡ i hope your birthday was full of wonderful memories and you had lots of good food, please continue staying healthy and i love you. [star dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!]

– LAST YEAR: GOYANGI SWEETS, HARLEM, NEW YORK.

"Since when do you celebrate Valentine's Day, Y/N?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was staticky on the other end, and you rolled your eyes as you kept swiping icing on the red velvet cupcakes you'd been agonizing over for six days. Trying and dumping mixes, failed taste tests, a few burnt practice rounds all led up to this: you, up at two in the morning on FaceTime with Wonwoo, who was just now starting to finish up his work day.

You hadn't meant to move so far away, truly – or at least, not for this long. Your best friends were all back home, and the drastic time difference did work for some of them – but you rarely managed to catch Wonwoo. He would usually spend his time holed away in his bedroom or out with Kim Mingyu. However, since Mingyu moved in with his fiancée, Chou Tzuyu, three years ago – Wonwoo had the apartment to himself and you were his only company.

"Since when don't you, Jeon? No hot date for Desperation Day?"

"You watch too many movies, there's no such thing. Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping? You open in, like, two hours." He was right, you did open in two hours.

There was just something comforting about hearing Wonwoo's voice so late in the night. It makes you feel warm, less alone.

And it's not like Wonwoo knew about your recent fight with your boyfriend.

It wasn't anything serious – just you telling him to get a fucking job, and him insisting that his job was rubbing your feet after a long day at work. It annoyed you so bad that you asked him to leave the apartment for the weekend. It's not that Wonwoo doesn't like Euijoo, but he certainly isn't his number one fan. You argue that you can't dislike someone you don't even know, but Wonwoo has made it clear that Euijoo is simply never going to be a part of his life if you're not present to make it happen. It's always been that way with Wonwoo, though. He quietly disapproved of most of the men you dated, even when you were back home – but he never made you feel bad about his perspective. He simply shared when you asked, and he didn't sugar coat it.

Before Euijoo, there was his clubmate, Hansol Chwe. Before Hansol, there was his teammate, Choi Seungcheol. Before Seungcheol, there was Mingyu. 

And every single one got a side-eyed glance, even his best friend.

Slowly, you stopped talking to Wonwoo about guys, because he always seemed to be right about you deserving more. To be frank, you weren’t too keen on not doing what you wanted to do, much less who. 

You and Wonwoo never breached that friendship line, and while you found solace in his irrevocable appreciation for you as a friend, you found it odd that around the time you began preparing for your relocation across the world, he floated away.

So much so that he hadn't even gone to the airport to say goodbye, or give you a hug. You hadn't seen Wonwoo in the weeks leading up to it after you told him you'd be leaving, and he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't call or hang out. You tried time and time again, only for him to eventually say he just didn't have time.

He did. You knew he did, because you saw him all over Mingyu and Tzuyu's Instagram stories. You saw him playing chess with Yoon Jeonghan. You saw him at the art museum with Xu Minghao.

You saw him soft launch a girl on his Instagram story the moment you boarded your plane. His story had been posted twenty minutes before, while you were getting your heart ripped out. You’d gone to New York with eyes full of tears, and not just because you were leaving behind everything you knew. 

Wonwoo was home, and you wouldn’t have him with you.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was never…directly the reason behind your breakups – at least, to your understanding. You never toed the line of flirting with him and vice versa, you never made your friendship out to be something it wasn't.

You and Mingyu broke up because of school but stayed extremely close. You met his then-girlfriend,Tzuyu, six months into freshman year, and you were the first person Mingyu ever told that he wanted to marry her. You even helped Mingyu build a Pinterest wedding board when he would visit you and Wonwoo.

The others? Seungcheol made the mature decision and broke up with you because of jealousy issues on his part. Hansol broke up with you with an apology and nothing more, and you tried your best to take it in stride. However, taking things in stride is not your forte – which is how you ended up with Euijoo.

Hansol broke up with you at the airport the day you left for New York, the guilt taking over his features as your eyes widened and filled with tears. You had muttered that you understood, that it was fine – but the fourteen-hour flight from Seoul to New York was full of tears and sniffling. You're sure the woman next to you had been wondering if you were okay, but you're also almost positive that the fourteen-hour loop of 5SOS' Close As Strangers through your headphones spoke for itself.

You had met Euijoo at a bar a week after you landed in New York. Your apartment had long been ready and furnished, waiting for your arrival. You sullied it that same night by bringing him home, the aura of the apartment darkening the longer he stayed. And stayed, he did. It's like he had nowhere else to go, and you were far too nice about it, too. 

Hence, how he became your 'boyfriend' and how he 'moved in with you.' 

Bullshit; he went home to his mother's one-bedroom condo and picked up a dusty Playstation and a pillow he liked – that was his 'moving in.'

As for why Wonwoo doesn't like him, it's obvious – Euijoo is a loser. He has no goals, no sense of urgency, no whimsical nature – nothing like you. At least, that was what Wonwoo told you the first time you called him from New York…which was over six months since you left Seoul.

You wanted to believe there was a twinge of jealousy in Wonwoo’s voice when you told him about Euijoo. His brows furrowed, he sucked his teeth more times than you could count, and he refused to meet him when you offered to have him say hello.

You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew your relationship with Wonwoo was dwindling. Your calls were growing sparse, he didn’t tell you anything about his personal life, and you still hadn’t gone back home. To him, to your friends, to your parents. The two of you had grown up together, just slightly out of each other's circles. There were two or three people who were your 'friends of friends' that connected you, before Mingyu was the first official bridge between the two of you in the seventh grade. You went on to date Mingyu for three years during high school, before you wound up going to a different university than he did – but attended with Wonwoo, instead. You hated to admit it, but you knew that you clung to Wonwoo like gum did a shoe. You hid behind his broadening frame at fraternity parties, you would ask him over to your dorm (and later, your apartment) for game nights. You eventually started baking for him – cookies, cupcakes, the like. And then you met Seungcheol, on your way to Wonwoo's apartment. You slammed into him, painting his white t-shirt and shorts in pink icing – and you remembered stuttering over your words as you watched his brows furrow while he wiped icing off his stomach. He ended up clicking his tongue, nodding his head and shrugging.

"I guess you can call it avant garde, right?"

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you wound up being late to Wonwoo's place – but at that time, it didn't matter. Not when you scored a date with an older boy that had pouty lips and the thickest thighs you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Wonwoo had noticed you were giggly that night, but chose to brush it off when he walked behind you and saw you typing away to an unsaved number.

You and Seungcheol ended up dating for about a year, but the jealousy issues began before your relationship even started. He knew Wonwoo, and they were on the same soccer team – but something about the way Wonwoo spoke about you seemed to tick him off. No matter how often your lips were on his, your hands on his body, your body in his bed – Seungcheol's eyes always narrowed at the sight of Wonwoo floating around you for whatever reason, even if you initiated contact. 

You cheered at all his games, but Wonwoo was also there even if you wore one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You invited him to your bake sales, yet Wonwoo was always the one taste testing your recipes. You invited Seungcheol to your birthday dinner, and Wonwoo was naturally there.

Wonwoo recounting memories of you as a kid at dinner was what made Seungcheol make the decision to break up with you the following week. He paced around his apartment while you sat on his couch, rattling off all the ways that Wonwoo spoke about you that meant so much more than just a platonic love.

And you didn't comfort Seungcheol, or refute his thoughts. 

In fact, you denied them. You said there was no way Wonwoo saw you as anything more than his friend, you insisted that Wonwoo seeing you in the worst moments of your life was enough to make him feel icky about dating you.

It wasn't until Seungcheol crouched in front of you, holding your hands in his that you understood that he wasn't kidding. He told you that part of growing old together and being in love is seeing each other in those situations and still choosing to care and stay. He told you that Wonwoo holding your hair back as you threw up, Wonwoo knowing all your siblings' names and their favorite things, Wonwoo seeing you riddled with the flu and gross stomach bugs…

Wonwoo cared about you far more than he let on.

You left Seungcheol's apartment that night with a heavy heart and holding the stained white shirt from the first day you met him in your hand. It was still soaked in his cologne, and you remember crying yourself to sleep for two weeks straight.

Wonwoo had been there, and when you told him everything Seungcheol had said – he'd apologized.

He didn't deny anything. He didn't refute any of Seungcheol's feelings.

He apologized, for both making Seungcheol feel that way as well as being the straw that broke the camel's back. You hadn't known what to say, so you just offered to let him stay over and bake cookies with you.

He did, and the two of you gorged yourselves on white chocolate chip cookies while watching White Chicks. You cried again while he was there, and he wiped your tears and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He held you close as you pouted into his shirt, the soft scent of patchouli from his cologne settling into your skin as a blanket of comfort.

You also remember peering up at him through teary eyes, and his lips instinctively pressing to your hairline. His mumbled words never left your mind, either.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

You didn't date again for a bit after that, and Wonwoo made it a point to introduce you as his friend any time the two of you hung out. It made you feel odd, the way he forced the agenda that you were his friend and nothing more when you had no issue just going with the flow. You understood he didn't want a repeat of your relationship with Seungcheol, but it felt like he was forcing something more than just the label of your friendship.

People often asked if something had happened between the two of you — of which you always denied casually. If they asked Wonwoo, he would scoff, as if he were offended anyone would ever think you were more than just his friend. As if it was gross, or repulsive, to see you as a woman and not just the girl he grew up with. You met Hansol the next school year, a cheeky cinematography freshman that frequented your bake sales. Wonwoo met him there as well, and was the reason you and Hansol met formally. Apparently, Wonwoo and Hansol were both in the AV Club, where Wonwoo also met his first girlfriend: Lee Jaehee.

Lee Jaehee...  

She had also been quite the frequenter of your bake sales. She enjoyed your slutty brownies and the strawberry blondies you made, and the two of you had been so close to becoming friends when Wonwoo asked her out. He'd even asked you to bake something for her and you did it happily, free of charge. However, Wonwoo asking her out meant her finding out that you and him went back over two decades, and the same look that settled in Seungcheol's brows, settled in hers. It was painful, to see how she would tense at your presence at Wonwoo's soccer games, ones you'd always attended. It hurt your feelings to see her give you a quick smile before passing by your booths at the bake sales, not bothering to stop by for a nibble or a chat.

It pained you to know that Wonwoo missed your birthday dinner that year to spend the weekend with her, instead. You wound up going over to Seungcheol's apartment that night, and he comforted you as best as he could – by offering a drink and inviting his friends Jeonghan and Joshua over to entertain you. Despite it all, Seungcheol never really held any resentment towards you – but he did have zero problem telling you how blind you were.

You ignored it, too.

You didn’t like the odd feeling you got in your chest thinking about Wonwoo in any way that wasn’t platonic. You weren't stupid – Wonwoo was incredibly profound with a hint of goofy humor. He was smart, and tall…and handsome…God, he was so handsome, it made you want to bite your fist.

So the idea of his hands on you? His lips on yours, his bed being more than just a drunken sanctuary…

It was too much for you to handle. 

You started dating Hansol during the first semester of your senior year of college. He'd just become a sophomore, and everyone around him had been incredibly surprised that the senior sweetheart at the bake sales stopped making her incredibly soft peanut butter cookies. The reason? Hansol, and his allergy to peanuts.

No one said shit after that, only cooing at your boyfriend's blushy cheeks from your attention.

Your relationship with Hansol also came as a surprise to Wonwoo, and he found out in the strangest way – by walking into your apartment using his spare key and seeing the two of you getting frisky in the kitchen and covered in flour. You hadn't heard him come in, and didn't seem to sense his presence in the threshold of your kitchen. You don't know it, but Wonwoo has the image of you burned in his mind. The slope of your neck as Hansol kissed down it, the way your shirt was pushed up to reveal flour-covered handprints on your bare chest, the way your thighs were flexing around your boyfriend's waist… The sound of your whimper into Hansol's mouth.

He then made his presence known by coughing exaggeratedly, and you and Hansol almost slipped. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Hansol yanked your shirt back into place, clearing his throat and greeting Wonwoo.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there is no way eating flour out of each other's mouths is sexy." Wonwoo had come over to tell you that he and Jaehee broke up, and he did tell you – but on his way out of your apartment. You could barely hear him as the door closed, but you were also trying to finish what you and your boyfriend started in the kitchen — so you filed it to the back of your mind as you invited Hansol to join you in the shower.

It wasn't until after graduation that you decided to open a pastry shop. However, you were unsure that your at-home learning was enough to satisfy a gaggle of clientele – and decided to start applying to pastry schools. You’d already obtained a business degree, which made the idea only cement further in your head. Hansol had been incredibly supportive, even going as far as sending you applications and fee waivers while he was in class and you were driving around Seoul with Wonwoo looking for work for the time being.

Then you got a letter back from a pastry school in New York City, and Hansol was ecstatic. He paid for your flight and even took a week off school to go visit it with you. He wound up setting up meetings with realtors so you could get an apartment, and the two of you even went as far as looking at empty lease spaces where you could open a business.

You accepted the offer, and the school covered your flight back to Seoul and then back to New York City. Your parents covered your first year of rent at an apartment in SoHo, after you sent back videos of you spinning in the SeaGlass Carousel and having dinner at Shuka.

However, something changed when you went back to Seoul to pack your things. You also realized you had done all of this without even mentioning it to Wonwoo, who seemed slightly distant when you finally met him for dinner at his place after packing up your apartment. Mingyu and Tzuyu had also been there. Hansol also seemed distant for a few days, not bothering to answer your messages or calls. You showed up at his apartment, only for Seungkwan to answer the door with a knowing look and tell you he wasn't home. You remember scowling, and pushing past Seungkwan to see Hansol asleep in his bedroom, tucked away with a Star Wars blanket you'd bought him for his birthday. 

You picked a fight, and Hansol wasn’t having it — said he wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation, and asked to rain check it for a better time. You argued there was no better time than the present, and his swollen face (whether from tears or sleep, you were unsure) was enough to make you back off for the time being. He quietly asked you to join him in his bed, and you reluctantly kicked your shoes off and did just that.

He promised he still cared, and promised he still loved you, but it felt different, the way he held you. Like a last hurrah, like a ‘goodbye’ and not a ‘see you later.’ Like things were going to end and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

You couldn't say you were surprised that Hansol broke up with you a month later, but you were certainly hurt. Wonwoo was also nowhere to be reached at this point, your calls going straight to voicemail and your texts going unread. You assumed he'd finally landed a gig, but it was still unlike him to not respond to you, of all people.

At least, you thought that was what had happened, until you saw his Instagram story.

You stopped wondering where he'd been after that.

It had been four years since then. You hadn't gone back to Seoul once, not even for Christmas or when your parents begged you back. You called for birthdays, you sent gifts out two months in advance. You sent photos of your shop, of your apartment, of you and Euijoo.

Your parents didn't really care about the ones Euijoo was in.

You finally opened your pastry shop in the middle of Harlem – two years after arriving in New York, tweaking your recipes to cater to the local clientele. Your shop was always full of customers and you loved what you did – but most of all, the people loved you. They loved seeing how easily you won people over, how you celebrated your accomplishments by putting even more effort into your business, how your employees cared about you and your shop.

You truly became an essential part of some people's lives – Ms. Julianna who came in every morning for a chocolate éclair; Mr. Cortéz came in every Saturday morning for a box of mixed empanadas and one butterscotch cupcake for his granddaughter, Elisa; Mrs. Stegenga sliding in every Tuesday for a strawberry tart and a cup of unsweetened whipped cream for her dog, Harley. 

Euijoo came in everyday as well, but not for a pastry – but to bug you. You'd kicked him out a few times, shoving a warm cinnamon twist into his mouth or an iced matcha with cheese foam into his hand – but he always floated back.

Which was odd, since he didn't have a car and it took thirty minutes to get from your apartment in SoHo to your shop in Harlem. Where he was getting the money for the taxi, or to load his Metrocard was beyond you – the son of a bitch didn't lift a finger.

Now, you're here. You're still at your shop, while Euijoo is likely sprawled out on your king-sized bed, with his outside clothes still on. You're grimacing to yourself as you smooth icing out on one of the cupcakes, your brow furrowed as you hear Wonwoo sigh.

"I miss you." And just as fast as it was said, he moved on.

"Since you're not going to sleep, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call, I've been slammed with projects. Tzuyu booked me for engagement photos, isn't that crazy?" Much like your friends missed out on your life, you missed out on theirs. Mingyu and Tzuyu opened a restaurant in the middle of Seoul, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu had their first daughter, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu got engaged, and you missed it. You wouldn't be surprised if you missed their wedding, too.

Wonwoo? He opened a photography studio. He did weddings, all sorts of parties, maternity shoots. He did boudoir shoots for a bit, before handing them over to his business partner, Saerom. She had been introduced to Wonwoo through a few contacts at your old university, and he took her on as an apprentice. She now accompanies him to many shoots and gigs, usually taking the reins if Wonwoo loses his patience or gets too overwhelmed.

You'd seen his photos displayed at a few galleries after you left for New York. Your mother went and took pictures of his exhibits, his shy smile hidden behind flutes of champagne. You congratulated him via text, only to receive a thumbs up in response and nothing more.

"Yeah, that's crazy. Listen, Woo, I'm gonna try and focus on this. I'll call you later, yeah?" You sighed, frustration evident in your voice. You watched as Wonwoo struggled not to roll his eyes as he tongued his cheek, before nodding.

"Sure thing. Get some rest."

He hung up before you could respond, and you looked at the FaceTime log. Eight missed calls from Wonwoo over the last few days, three missed calls from Tzuyu and two from Mingyu.

Your friends missed you, across the world. You were missing every precious moment of theirs.

And instead, you were here. Frosting cupcakes at almost three in the morning, while your do-nothing boyfriend enjoyed the warmth of your apartment. Frosting cupcakes, while your parents begged you to come home for a few days at the very least.

The money here was good. It always had been, and you'd built such a good connection with your clientele and you couldn't imagine abandoning it all because you were homesick.

But you missed home. You missed your mother's hearty soups, you missed your father serving you dinner instead of you serving Euijoo after a long day of doing that for strangers. You missed Tzuyu's light laughter, Mingyu's warm embraces…

Wonwoo. God, you missed Wonwoo.

You remember sending him a photo of your storefront as the sign was finalized, the baby blue calling to the eyes amongst the red brick.

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] look at it! goyangi sweets is officially in business! (read: 1:09PM)

Msg From: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] goyangi?

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] what the fuck are you doing awake? it's 3am in seoul [11/09] yeah, goyangi. i miss you (read: 1:10PM)

He hadn't answered after that.

Sighing, you clicked your tongue and leaned against your stainless steel counter. You grabbed a cupcake off the cooling rack, prying the warm dessert in half and smearing a bit of frosting on the inside, shoving it into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you chewed, letting your shoulders sag at the sweet treat that made all the stress worth it.

It was worth it, right? The money and the love from the locals, the feeling of physical success…it was enough. It was worth the lonely nights you yearned for 

You wiped your hands, moving to the front of the shop and dragging the metal divider down to block the view of outsiders. You weren't opening the shop today, no. You're going to go home, and kick Euijoo out of your bed and sleep.

That's all you need. Some sleep.

– SOPHOMORE YEAR: SEOUL HAWKS VS YONSEI EAGLES, SEMIFINALS.

"We have No. 08, Choi Seungcheol approaching the goal area for the freekick. Choi is the team captain for the SNU Hawks, and the only PreMed student on the team. He has also scored fifty-six percent of all game-winning goals this season, and we're hoping this kick gets them into the Championship bracket."

You were on the edge of your seat, your frame being swallowed by one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You were alone in the stands for the first time – Mingyu and Tzuyu were stuck at the concessions stand. Unfortunately, you were also the only person on this side of the field wearing an SNU jersey, and trying not to tweak out as you listened to Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin talk about your boyfriend over the PA.

"Oh, oh, looks like Choi is not taking the freekick after all?" Jimin's voice was clear, and the crowd collectively sighed as Seungcheol analyzed the players and shook his head.

You were barely able to sit down as you watched him jog over to his referee, making motions with his hands and arms when you saw Wonwoo crossing the field in a sprint. He slid next to Seungcheol, who pulled him closer into the circle and kept talking. Wonwoo's brows were furrowed as he nodded, breathing heavily before wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "It seems Choi has nominated No.17, Jeon Wonwoo, to take the freekick instead. Jeon is the second in command, dedicating two years of his college career to this team. He's scored sixteen percent of the game-winning goals this season, opting to stay in the shadows." You didn't like that.

"Alright, alright…it seems we're lining up…Eagles are looking fine this year, aren't they?" "Jeon, that's inappropriate." "What, man? You're going to look at Kim Yugyeom and say I'm wrong?" "Jungkook, they can hear you."

"Hey, shit. Here's your soda." Tzuyu slides in next to you, and you don't unglue your eyes from the field as you reach and fumble for your drink. The straw poked your hand as Mingyu slid past you, making you scowl as you swatted his leg for him to sit down.

"Wonwoo's taking the kick? I thought it was going to be Cheol." Mingyu muttered, taking a bite from his hot dog. You nodded, watching as Wonwoo shook his head while still talking to Seungcheol. His hands were moving rapidly, likely explaining why Wonwoo didn't want to make the kick. Your boyfriend only gave Wonwoo a stern look, and you could make out the words falling from his lips.

"I believe in you. Kick the fucking ball."

You watched as the Eagles made their wall, their goalie shaking his legs out. Kwon Soonyoung, you remembered – you'd met him at a frat party at Yonsei a few weeks back. Seungcheol had gone with you, making friends with the enemy (more like scoping out his competition. Sneaky bitch.) "C'mon, Woo." You mumbled to yourself, grabbing Tzuyu's hand for support as she shoved a nacho into her mouth. You were too amped up to eat, this kick was the one that would settle the score – and it was all on Wonwoo.

You knew Seungcheol wouldn't put anyone he didn't trust on this sort of line. Yeah, he had an issue with how close you and Wonwoo were, but his team was important to him – he'd built this one on his own, handpicked, the best of the best. You trusted Seungcheol knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't set up Wonwoo for failure…

…And he didn't, as you watched Wonwoo's kick bounce off the goalpost and straight into the net – just barely missing Soonyoung's fingertips.

"THE HAWKS ARE GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

You cheered happily, the only one besides Mingyu and Tzuyu – and earned the nastiest of glares from Yonsei students as you ran down the steps of the bleachers. Seungcheol was jumping with his arms around Wonwoo and another player, Wen Junhui, when you pushed past them to get to your friend.

"Wonwoo! That was fucking amazing!"

He just shook his head, aiming the water bottle into his mouth as he gestured towards Seungcheol.

"That's all Cheol's idea. Mastermind behind it all." You whipped around to see your grinning boyfriend being shaken by Mingyu, trying to pry himself from your friend's embrace as you felt the cold splash of the water cooler being poured on Wonwoo. It went down your back as well, making you squeal as you jumped out of the way. Seungcheol reached his arm out to you, and you grabbed his hand as his teammates picked a soaked Wonwoo up and onto their shoulders.

"We'll meet you at the parking lot!" Mingyu yelled as he and Tzuyu trailed after them, and Seungcheol only gave a thumbs up. It was customary that the entire team went to dinner together, usually still in their stinky and sweaty jerseys but Seungcheol had long refused to let the team be represented that way. Everyone went home to get themselves together, then he footed the bill.

"Cheol, that was great! You're going to the championships!" Your smile was hurting your cheeks as he nodded, pulling you into his chest. He was sweaty and overwhelmingly warm, but you didn't care as he plucked the fabric of your wet shirt off your back in greeting.

"You know…you could've greeted me first." "Oh, not this again! Seungcheol, Wonwoo is just my friend." "I know he is, Y/N." Seungcheol said pointedly, but you felt scrutinized under his arched brow. You felt your lip jut out into a pout, and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon, you can come over to mine and change." He swept your hair back over your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck. You frowned, your hands floating to his wrists as he shook his head.

"Tell me you love me, Cheol." "I love you, honey. Come on."

It wasn't a lie. Seungcheol did love you, but it'd slightly become less of a romantic love as the months pressed on. He couldn't get over the odd feeling in his stomach when he saw Wonwoo's soft gestures towards you, the way Wonwoo served your drinks at the parties you went to, the way Wonwoo behind a camera made you smile easily – far easier than necessary for someone that was just your friend.

He hated how you didn't see it, the way Wonwoo was in love with you. He could see it, and he knew it was the truth: Wonwoo would visibly tense at the sound of your name. Seungcheol remembers when Junhui asked him his plans last week, and how Wonwoo grimaced when Seungcheol said he was taking you on a date night.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like his jealousy was festering in the pit of his stomach while you saw it as nothing more than just friendly banter. Granted – Wonwoo never flirted with you, never touched you inappropriately, he never crossed the line.

But the soft compliments he gave you? The gentle swipe of your hair off your face and the adjustment of your necklaces?

The way he calmly called your name, or sweetheart from across the room…

And you listened.

It wasn't your fault. Seungcheol knew it wasn't, and he felt like a fool to keep feeling so much resentment towards Wonwoo – especially when Wonwoo also made it strictly known that everything he felt was platonic.

It just didn't feel that way.

"I love you, Cheol." "I know, honey. Now…let's get dinner?"

– FIVE YEARS AGO: INCHEON AIRPORT TO LAGUARDIA, NEW YORK.

"I'm sorry."

You were standing in the middle of Incheon Airport, your duffle bag tucked over your shoulder when Hansol dropped the bomb.

"Sorry?" You whispered, your voice shaky as the reality of his words sank in.

It'd been a few days since you packed your last box and dropped it off at your parents' house. Hansol had gone with you, warmly greeting your parents and sitting in your living room, your mother showing him baby photos. You remember feeling your heart race at how Hansol traced your face in the pictures, before glancing up at you.

The wild beating in your chest hadn't been positive, and there was a glint of knowing in Hansol's eyes. The relationship was over, it was just a matter of who pulled the plug, and when. It had been a month or so since you settled everything in New York, and a month since either of you spoke about it. You had gone to his apartment and looked to pick a fight – but the fight never happened. He pulled you into him, and you had snuggled in his bed. You kissed, you watched movies…

But it was a goodbye and you denied it. In your heart, in your mind, you wanted to deny it. It was a good thing, wasn't it? To be in New York and know that Hansol had connections there? His sister lived there. If he wanted…if he wanted, he could come with you. Transfer to a university in New York, and it would be worth it. To study in a place he once called home, to breathe in the inspiration of the city that has been the background of hundreds of films, the breeding ground of insane creativity? And if not…what about you? Were you enough to want to move in with? Did he see a future with you where things were more than just college sweethearts who stayed over at each other's apartments more than four times a week? Did he understand who you were, to the depths – the need to love, because you were overflowing with it?

Did he see a future where you were more than just attached at the hip with Wonwoo?

The truth was, he did. He saw it all with you – the apartment, the marriage, hell, even a kid or two. He saw all of it, a ring and a career alongside you and to see all your hopes and aspirations grow into something tangible. He saw it.

You didn't.

"I know it's shitty of m-me to do this, especially n-now." He held back his tears, but his voice shook with bitten back sobs anyway. "But I can't. I c-can't do long distance."

Somehow, he knew you knew that wasn't the real reason. He knew, from the way the back of your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, the grip on your duffle making the strap burrow into your hand. The way you bounced on your toes, once, twice – before nodding. A singular tear rolled down your face.

"It's okay. I understand." Your voice had been surprisingly steady as he hesitated, before reaching his arms out. You stepped into them, and somehow felt the weight off your shoulders as he hugged you tightly. "I'll miss you, Sol." "I miss you already, babe. Please call me when you land, okay? I'll be up, I swear."

You had called him when you landed. He'd arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to your new apartment. He finally cried on the phone, and you sobbed with him as you made your bed and settled in.

After six hours of reminiscing and crying on the phone, you hung up for what you thought would be the last time. He wished you good luck, and to call him whenever you wanted. And God, you wanted to.

But just like Wonwoo, you left it alone. Six months, not a single word.

– PRESENT: LAGUARDIA AIRPORT TO JEON WONWOO, HOME.

You looked into the empty space you used to call your second home. Gone were the calming periwinkle walls, the gold-detailed pastry cases. Gone were your cherry wood bar stools, the wicker recliners in the corner, the play areas for children. 

Your shop was gone, and you held the keys in your hand one last time.

"End of an era, huh? Where are you going to go now?" Mr. Cortéz was next to you, holding his granddaughter on his hip as you sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss Harlem, but I know that…this isn't home." You said sheepishly, running a hand through your hair. He nodded, patting your shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"We're going to miss you here, mija. You will always have a place in Harlem with us." To say you wanted to cry was an understatement, but you just blinked the tears back as you allowed him and his granddaughter to envelope you into an embrace. "I left my cupcake recipe with your wife, so you can always make them for Elisa. I'm going to miss you."

"Be safe, okay? Don't give up on your dreams." He patted your back softly, and you held back a sniffle as your leasing agent gave you a soft smile. Goodbyes were never something you were good at, but you couldn't say anything more as you handed your keys back to the leasing agent and turned to your packed car. You grimaced at the sight of Euijoo's neck pillow still in your passenger seat, and you reached in through the window to grab it and shoved it in the trash.

You sighed, glancing up at your empty shop once more before slipping into the driver's seat, gripping the glittery wheel cover. You blinked once, twice, before shoving your key in the ignition and pulling out of your parking spot. 

You truly had no idea if this was the right decision. In your mind, you weren't sure.

But your heart?

You broke up with Euijoo a few months ago, and kicked him out of your apartment. You slowly started selling everything in the apartment, only packing your essentials and finding a wholesale thrift to take all your furniture from the pastry shop. You closed the shop officially a week ago, and did a mass bake sale to finish all your products. 

You went back and forth to Seoul without telling anyone, finding a cozy apartment in Gangnam and meeting with a leasing agent there to open a shop. Your parents long stopped asking you to come home, but you couldn't help and feel giddy as you walked around the city – gorging yourself on hot street food and buying furniture for your new apartment without interference.

Now? You just had to board your plane. You'd sold your car to Euijoo's brother, Hyunjin, and he was waiting at the airport to take it once you left. You had zero plans of telling anyone anything, and you'd be landing in Seoul the day before your birthday. You could catch up on any sleep, and then visit Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant. Maybe get dinner there, maybe catch up with the couple…

Maybe surprise Wonwoo.

Yeah, that sounds like the plan.

"Nice change of scenery, finally took a vacation?" Wonwoo's voice is once more staticky through FaceTime, and you've got him propped up in your new bathroom. You hadn't said anything about leaving New York yet, but you shrugged as you carefully lined your lips.

"Mhm, could say that. Finally get to do shit without Euijoo weighing me down. What are your plans tonight? Going to Gyu's?" You ask nonchalantly, but you can feel your hands trembling as you put down your lipliner. If Wonwoo notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Actually, I'm going to swing by the restaurant in a bit. We always call you for your birthday, you know, so it's funny you called me first." He nods lightly, but you know Wonwoo too well to think he's not even slightly suspicious. "Wanted to beat you to it, I guess. I feel alone here a bit, the resort is super nice but I'm so…ugh, I don't know. I might go out for a beer, see what kind of trouble I can get myself into." You wiggle your brows in the camera, and Wonwoo snorts. He swings his keys in front of him, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Not too much trouble, I hope. Have you talked to your parents yet? I know your mom misses you, you've been even more MIA since you and Euijoo broke up. I commend it, don't get me wrong, but still. Where the hell have you been?" "Healing." You shrug, smushing your cheek with the palm of your hand. Wonwoo doesn't look like he believes you, but you only give him a soft smile. He tries to bite his back, tonguing his cheek as he huffs. 

"You look happier. I like that." "I feel happier, Woo." It's not a lie. You feel so much lighter being back in Seoul, knowing that your family and friends are no more than a train ride away.

You pretend to check your watch, sucking your teeth.

"Shit, I'm going to miss my dinner reservation. Will you still call me when you get to the restaurant? I miss you guys." You pout, tucking your hair behind your ears as Wonwoo nods.

"Yeah, no worries. Be safe, and don't get too tipsy. I can't hold your hair when you throw up from all the way over here, you know." He scolds, making you giggle.

"Got it. I'll see you, yeah?" You nod, and he does the same.

"See you, sweetheart." The call goes dead as your heart registers the pet name, but you immediately rustle out of the bathroom to catch a taxi. You're wearing a black crew neck over a nice pair of jeans, paired with your favorite dirty Chucks in forest green. You grab your winter coat off the hook by the door, tugging it on and shoving your phone in your pocket. Checking the coat pockets for your wallet and keys, you find both in the left pocket and practically slam out of your apartment.

Not having been to Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant definitely proved navigating there to be difficult. You got out a block away from the actual spot, tugging a face mask over your face and pulling the hood of your coat over your hair. You take a deep breath, taking a step forward when you see a tall man step out of a taxi, a black coat covering broad shoulders. Thick frames sit on his nose, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. You squint your eyes to see closer as he hands the driver a wad of cash, and the crinkle of his nose proves it's exactly who you're looking for.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You stay rooted in your spot as he walks coolly into the restaurant, holding the door open for a woman and her daughter to slip out. The daughter's eyes widen as he moves past them, her cheeks flushing as her mother rushes her off the sidewalk. What a funny thing, to see someone else experience the same things you do.

Over the year that you decided to leave New York, you spoke to Hansol and Seungcheol a lot – even after promising 'this is the last call,' you called them again and again. As it turns out, he too felt that Wonwoo was a bigger part of your life than he could ever be, but it didn't hit him until he found out Wonwoo had missed every single AV Club meeting in the two weeks following him finding out that the two of you were dating. Wonwoo didn't speak to Hansol directly for over a month, until Hansol confronted him and got the answers he was looking for.

Wonwoo had long been in love with you, and had gone over to your apartment initially to, yes, tell you he'd broken up with Jaehee; but he also went over there to confess to you. He'd brought over a bouquet of pink camellias, but left them on the porch in case he caught you at a bad time – and Hansol later found out he threw them away on his way out of your apartment complex.

At first, Hansol had nothing to say on the matter. You were his girlfriend — but he couldn’t lie to himself, the guilt of knowing Wonwoo had been in love with you for so long was starting to eat away at him. With a reluctant heart, he ended things; only for Wonwoo’s dumbass to not make a move and let you slip away to New York.

You'd also heard from Seungcheol and Hansol that he hadn't kept a girlfriend around for too long since – nothing to write home about. He didn't introduce any of them to anyone, just soft launched here and there on social media but mostly kept the "situationships" to himself. 

The only hope you had in your belly was that your plan would go, well, according to plan. You'd ordered a bouquet of flowers, pink camellias, to be delivered to Wonwoo at the restaurant after you arrived. After that…okay you didn't plan anything after that, but spontaneity is cool, right?

You wipe your palms on your coat, taking a deep breath as you walk towards the door. Yanking it open, you hear the doorbell alert the people inside – only to see a few people scattered around. Mingyu is wiping a glass down behind the bar and Tzuyu is sitting on a barstool next to Wonwoo, her left hand sitting atop her belly.

With a huge rock on her ring finger. "Welcome to Hana's! Have a seat anywhere, we'll be right with you!" Her voice is just as warm as ever, and you find yourself forcing your feet to move, ducking your head as you head towards the back of the restaurant. You see Mingyu lean over to grab a bottle off the wall, and you slide into one of the booths where you're out of sight but they're not.

You can hear them start to talk about you, Mingyu pouring Wonwoo a beer and sliding it across the bar.

"Has Y/N spoken to either of you?" Tzuyu asks, and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

"Yeah, she called me earlier. It was a little odd, considering we always call her. But it's her birthday, I'm not going to badger her for answers. Plus, she's on vacation for once. Can't complain." He shrugs, and Mingyu laughs softly.

"Vacation? Where? Did she say?" "I didn't ask." Wonwoo replies, and Tzuyu snorts. "You'd be a horrible spy, Jeon. Here, I'm going to call her. She's gotten better at answering."  You watch Tzuyu grab her phone off the table, and quickly lower your ringer as far as it will go. She faces the phone towards all of them, and Wonwoo looks unamused as you feel your phone start vibrating in your hand. 

You deny the call, quickly texting her that you're driving to dinner and will call her when you get to the restaurant. A lie, and you can see her frown sadly next to Wonwoo. She puts her phone down, sliding off the bar stool – likely on her way to you.

"Gonna take this order, I'll be right back." She grabs the notepad off the bar, but the ringing of the doorbell grabs her attention. A delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers slips in, holding the baby blue gift card in his hand.

"For Jeon Wonwoo? Is there a Jeon Wonwoo here?" Wonwoo's eyes go wide, before he clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. That's me, thank you. Does it say who they're from?" The delivery man hands him the card, bidding everyone a good night.

"Well?" Mingyu leans over as Wonwoo puts the flowers down on the bar and flips the card open. His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it, before handing it to Mingyu, who reads it out loud while Wonwoo thumbs the petals.

To Wonwoo,

Thank you for always being someone I can count on, even when I'm halfway across the world. Thank you for looking out for me, and for loving me more than you let on.

Always yours, Y/N.

P.S. Don't forget to call me back!

"Huh." Mingyu clicks his tongue, and Tzuyu grabs the card and scans it. She sighs, holding it to her chest.

"Camellias…" Wonwoo pouts, before his eyes narrow. "They're her favorite. It's like she's trying to tell me something." "Okay, mind reader. What could she possibly have to say that isn't already in the card?" Tzuyu waves it around, and you take it as your chance to slide out of the booth, hands in your pockets. You walk towards them quietly as Mingyu and Tzuyu begin to theorize, and neither of them look your way as you slide into the barstool diagonal to Wonwoo's.

"She probably wants to know what a girl's gotta do to get some service around here." You mumble, and Tzuyu flushes, about to apologize when you carefully slip your mask off.

"But I guess you can treat me, since it is my birthday." You shrug, Mingyu's eyes widening before he covers his face and sinks to the ground behind the bar. Tzuyu scoffs out a laugh, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls your hood off your head, her hands smoothing your hair down gently.

"You're home." She whispers, her belly getting in the way as she pulls you into her. You feel your eyes burn with tears as she buries her face in your hair, your hand moving to pat her back. "I am, I missed you guys." You murmur, and Mingyu hops over the bar to also crush you in his embrace. You can barely see out of your teary eyes, but you can see Wonwoo's cheeks flushed almost as pink as the flowers, the shock in his demeanor evident but he just clears his throat and looks away.

"How long are you here for? A week? A month? Please say a month, you have to meet our kids." Mingyu begs into your hair, and you can barely conjure words as Wonwoo stays silent. "Shit, I'll even buy you a new ticket back to New York if you stay for two months." You don't respond, waiting for the couple to pull away. You wiggle lightly, making them both move back as you wipe your eyes. "I'm here for good. I have a new place in Gangnam, and I'm opening a shop a few blocks from here. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you guys." You gesture towards Wonwoo as well, who only tongues his cheek before running the tips of his fingers around the rim of his beer. He nods, "Yeah. Welcome home, sweetheart." "You're not even going to hug me? Some friend you are." You try to joke, and Wonwoo scoffs,before reluctantly sliding off his stool. Tzuyu says something about getting you dinner, skirting out of the way. It seems Mingyu also gets the hint, moving away with the promise of a nice beer.

You're overwhelmed by the same patchouli scent on Wonwoo’s clothes, sweetened with notes of peach as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your own wrap around his shoulders, and you can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he breathes you in softly. He nestles his head next to yours, and his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, and you feel his arms tighten slightly, as if you're going to slip away. "We need to have a serious conversation, though, because I am mad at you."

You scoff slightly, trying to hide your tears as you bury your face in his neck. He rubs your back gently, before pulling away and wiping your eyes carefully. "Later." You only nod, watching Tzuyu carefully walk over with a bowl of hot tofu stew, and Mingyu slides a pint glass across the bar for you.

You spend the next three hours consoling an emotional Tzuyu, and telling Mingyu all about the delicious dishes you tried in New York. He jests that the restaurant would love a pastry chef if you're willing to share your recipes, and you only snort and turn him down softly. You tell them all about Euijoo, only earning scoffs and huffs from the couple as Wonwoo nurses his beer silently. 

You tell them about your shop in Harlem, and how it was actually a call with Wonwoo last year that made you realize that you were unhappy – which made his cheeks flush, but he remained quiet, only nodding along. Tzuyu squeezes his shoulder, and he just nibbles on his lip as you keep talking about all the regulars you had. You tell them about your SoHo apartment and how you often visited the Seaglass Carousel if you were feeling stressed. You promised to take them there someday, if they ever wanted to see what your life was like when you were gone.

They fill you in about their own lives – planning their wedding, having their second daughter in a few weeks. They talk about their oldest, Eunha, and how she's growing up to be just like Mingyu. You hold back tears as they eagerly talk about their budding family and their beautiful relationship, often sharing looks full of adoration and admiration for one another as they spoke. You listen carefully, and Tzuyu even asks if, since you're back, you'd like to be a bridesmaid.

You agree, when Mingyu finally brings out a thick slice of his infamous chocolate cake – one that actually got you into baking but you'd never admit it. At least, not to him.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N! We're so glad you're home, seriously. It's been so dull without you." Tzuyu cheers, allowing Mingyu to light the pink candle in the middle of the slice. You smile softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as they sing to you softly – Wonwoo mouthing along from his stool.

"Make a wish." Mingyu holds it up to you, and you can't help but realize that he's a father now. Tzuyu is a mother, and they have their whole lives figured out. They're so gentle, loving, passionate…and you're still trying to figure yourself out.

Ah, but comparison is the thief of joy.

You close your eyes, sighing before conjuring your wish in your mind. 

You don't notice when Wonwoo takes a quick photo, the flash hidden by Tzuyu's shoulder.

You blow out the candle quietly, opening your eyes to see the couple clapping softly. Tapping the plate, you clear your throat.

"Can I get this in a box? I have some things I need to sort out before the night ends."

Mingyu and Tzuyu share a look, before she glances over her shoulder. You nod as she looks back at you, and she smiles.

"Well, we'll see you more often, right? You have to meet Eunha, and the baby." 

"Absolutely." And you mean it. You mean it as Mingyu boxes up your slice of cake, sealing it into a brown paper bag for you. You inch closer and closer to Wonwoo as the goodbyes become extensive, before splaying your hand across his back. He glances over his shoulder, a jump in his brows as if to say, ready to go?

You bid Mingyu and Tzuyu a good night, and you promise them you'll even try to come by in the morning for Mingyu's mother's oxtail soup. Mingyu says he can't promise there will be any up by the time you come by, but you make Tzuyu promise to save you a bowl. She does.

"When did you sell the shop?" Wonwoo asks as the two of you step out into the street, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks. "And why didn't you tell me?" You look at the flowers in his arms, how he holds them like a baby.

"I was worried you'd be upset that I gave up." You murmur as the two of you begin to walk seemingly with no direction, earning a sigh from Wonwoo.

“I’m upset that you didn’t even think to tell me anything. I’m supposed to be your friend. One of your best friends, if I’m not mistaken. You move across the world and suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Wonwoo, it’s not like that. I just…I should know what I want out of life. I should know where my heart calls home, but it’s only been a person. I’m not sure if the place matters.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair as Wonwoo flags down a taxi.

“Your place or mine?” He mutters, opening the door for you to slide in.

“Yours.” You mumble back, giving the driver a quick smile as Wonwoo shuts the door. He rattles off his address — and it’s the same building as yours.

“…I live there, too.” You whisper, and he clicks his tongue.

“Good to know.” He shrugs, before reaching over and tugging your seat belt on. He clicks in place, choosing to stay silent as the taxi weaves through the busy roads. You want to say something, and you attempt to several times — but he just shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips as if to say wait.

And wait, you did.

You let him pay the taxi driver and help you out of the taxi. You let him lead you into the lobby, the security guard giving the both of you a curt nod as you duck into the elevator.

Wonwoo only lives a few doors down from you.

“Interesting.” You murmur to yourself. It’s like I’ll always find my way back to you.

He unlocked his door, holding it open for you to slip through. You did, silently toeing your shoes off in his foyer before stepping into his living room. Shrugging your coat off, you watch him flick the lights on.

Everything is so him. From stacked consoles on the side of his television, to a bookcase full of acoustic guitar records and a few thick books. A few of his cameras are strewn on his kitchen table, popped open and film exposed. His record player sits in front of his window, the blinds and curtains pushed open and the window slightly ajar to circulate the air. There is a mug on his coffee table, half full of what you assume to be green tea.

It smells like patchouli, peaches, and home.

His hand takes the bag from you, and he walks past you to place the flowers and the cake on his kitchen counter. He closes his eyes as he tugs his coat off, and you avert your eyes from his form-fitting shirt — opting to turn around and hang your coat on the rack by the door.

“Are you actually here for good? Or was that just something you said to appease Mingyu and Tzuyu?” He mutters, thumbing at the petals of the flowers once more. You sigh, crossing your arms as you sidle up next to him. Your hip bumps his as you lean on the counter, and his eyes avoid yours as you look up at him.

His shoulders are tense.

“I’m here for good, Wonwoo. I missed it here, I missed Mingyu and Tzuyu and I missed my parents.”

“What about me? Did you miss me?” 

His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear it, and you purposely bump your hip to his to garner his attention.

“Of course I missed you.” You whisper, a smile twitching at your lips as he nibbles on his lip.

“Then why didn’t you visit? Why did it take you six months to call me when you first moved? Why…Why did you date Euijoo?”

You feel your chest ache at his questions, the furrow in his brows making you push off the counter, straightening. Sighing, you rest your head on his bicep, the muscle tensing beneath your cheek.

“Sometimes we do things to fill a void, you know? Sometimes we hide from the things we know could be good for us, and look for something we think could be enough, so we won’t ruin or sully what we have already.” You shrug, and he looks down at you again.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I wish I would’ve realized how you felt about me before I left. I mean, I would’ve still gone but I would’ve visited more. I would’ve come back often, tried to make it work. I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, and he just shakes his head.

“My feelings here don’t matter, I’m talking about you.”

“You are a huge part of me, of my life.” You remind him, your hand ghosting over the small of his back as he huffs.

“So you abandoned your life in New York, your dream, for me?” Wonwoo sounds almost offended, and you scoff.

“I abandoned my life in New York because I missed home. I missed my parents, my friends. I miss talking to my friends when we’re all staying up late, not just when I am and I have to go to bed when the gab gets good. I…I missed walking around in the middle of the night with you, and getting heartburn from eating spicy noodles at two in the morning. Can’t I miss home, Wonwoo?”

He clicks his tongue, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I guess you can. But you said home for you is not a place, but a person.” 

“I did say that.”

He doesn’t say anything, picking at his nails silently before sighing.

“Did Hansol tell you about the flowers?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“You could’ve talked to me, especially between boyfriends. You had lots of chances, Seungcheol literally aired you out.” You say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship because I was feeling something you weren't.”

“And how do you know that I wasn’t?” You raise a brow, and he scoffs. He shoves his hands in his pockets, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on his couch. He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as you make your way over and perch on the edge of his mahogany coffee table.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner that one year. I thought if I missed one, it’d be easier to start getting used to not seeing you. I was fully committed to getting over you, to moving on, even if I wasn’t happy with…fuck, I forgot her name.”

“Jaehee.”

“With Jaehee.” He ran his hand over his face, and you sigh.

“That was ages ago, Wonwoo. We move on.” You pat his knee, and he lifts his head to face you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he takes a breath.

“I don’t want to move on, that’s the problem. You think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in since you’ve left?”

“Mmh, I don’t. Do tell.” You nod, inching slightly closer, resting your elbows on your knees and clasping your hands together. He doesn’t look amused, running an exasperated hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“I look for you everywhere, and I’ve never even had you. I can’t help but compare every single woman I’ve ever been with to you, Y/N. It’s driving me fucking insane, being in love with you.”

He’s hiding his face in his hands, and you feel your chest grow hot as you hum in response. You shift slightly, your knees bumping his and making him sigh.

“I mean, for years it's been like we're in this odd mesh of limerence and denial. You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me – my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N." 

"I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

"You've seen me cry, you've seen me laugh. You've been the reason behind the tears and the laughter. You've seen me in all these weird spots in my life, you watched me date all these men. You were most of the reason as to why these men broke up with me. Yet, you never once thought that I was looking for you?" "Why would I ever give myself that much importance?" He scoffs, and you shrug. "Maybe because I give you that much importance, Wonwoo."

He sighs shakily, leaning back on the couch cushions and swallowing hard. "Did you know I got a few collections displayed in a museum after you left? Your parents went, did they send you photos?"

"Some. I liked the one of Tzuyu and Mingyu in the flower fields." He got up, skirting around your knees and walking up to the bookcase next to his TV. He scours the leather bound books, before a soft aha! falls from his lips, pulling out a green one. He flips it, and you realize it's a photo album.

He hands it to you, sitting back down on the couch. You open it tentatively, your fingers trembling as the photos come into view. They have that digital camera feel to them, a bit grainy and dated. The first photo was old, you could tell just from the image: it was you and Mingyu, sitting around a bonfire at a waterfall you would hang out at during the warmer months, one that went into a lake lined with boulders. You were dating here, and your nose had melted marshmallow swiped across it while Mingyu grinned in the corner of the photo.

"This is an old photo, Wonwoo." "They're all old, you haven't been around." He retorts, before flipping the page.

Another photo of you smiling as you laid out on the flat boulder by the edge of the lake, another of you on the handlebars of Mingyu's bike – you remember that one, it was Mingyu's seventeenth birthday. Another of you with Tzuyu solving a puzzle during one of Mingyu's visits, you and Hansol sharing a cup of lemonade during a snack run after one of Wonwoo's soccer games, you and Seungcheol swinging on a hammock in the park – where you often bumped into Wonwoo taking photos of birds, flowers, life.

There was photo after photo of you, in every moment of your life. There was a photo of the pink camellias he'd gotten for you, there was a photo of his student apartment packed up but one of your cardigans, bright red, stark against the cardboard boxes. This album, full of memories of you through his eyes – without a singular glimpse of Wonwoo, until the last photo.

It wasn't like the other photos – this was high definition, and you remember this photo being taken. You were wearing a pink t-shirt that had belonged to Wonwoo, and a necklace that Wonwoo had given to you for one of your birthdays. You were sitting on his couch, surrounded by Mingyu and Tzuyu. You had a bag of honey mustard pretzels that Wonwoo bought you in your lap, your smile shy and your fingers holding a napkin.

It was the day you finally told them you'd be leaving, just moments before.

And you remember how quietly he'd put his camera away after that, and your friends had settled uneasily around you. Wonwoo sat on his coffee table, eyes worried but masked with a soft smile – just like you were, now.

The album was empty after that, with only two or three pages left to complete it.

"This was an exhibit I arranged for the museum, but I never submitted it. I called it Hanging By A Moment, because that's what…" He takes a deep breath. "That's what this feels like. I feel like I'm just waiting for the moment to end, and I'm not sure in which direction I would prefer it to happen. Sometimes I would stay awake and wonder why I didn't go visit you, but I knew exactly why." You set the photo album on your lap, giving him a gentle look.

"You didn't want to see something that would break your heart." "I didn't want to see you happy with someone else, somewhere else." His voice is thick, and you move to speak but he shakes his head. 

"I didn't want to go somewhere and see you living so well without me, when I'm in shambles without you. I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence." He's looking down at his hands, a singular tear rolling down his cheek. You feel like you can't breathe around the lump in your throat, as he glances up.

"I don't think I can handle this anymore. I need you to say nothing is ever going to happen between us, that the moment is over. I need you to end this, because if you don't, I never will."

You can't speak, but it doesn't matter – because he keeps going.

"I'd be perfectly content having you within arm's reach for the rest of my life, as long as you're happy. You could be across the world, hell, across the fucking universe and I'd never stop missing you, or yearning for you, or loving you. Befriending you all those years ago has got to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made, because I can't imagine a life without you. But loving you, being in love with you? Y/N, that has got to be the biggest grace I've ever been given by whatever God is out there. Nothing has ever been easier than loving you has been, but it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. So, please. End this, I'm begging you." Your throat hurts from holding back your tears, a soft sob escaping your lips as you turn away. You let the tears run down your cheeks, using your hand to muffle your cries as he just lets his tears drip onto his jeans. You can see, through blurry eyes, the way he wants to reach for you, the way his hands clenched into fists before he shoves them under his thighs. 

It's silent for a moment, aside from shaky breathing and a few sniffles from Wonwoo. You wipe your eyes carefully, trembling hands gripping the edges of the album as you slide it onto the coffee table next to you. He grabs it, using it as an excuse to stand up and move around – Wonwoo always needed to do that after talking. Like he felt the need to exert all his feelings physically.

You also stand, his rug soft under your socked feet as he slides the album back in place. He doesn't turn back around, his hand lingering on the spine of the album as you round the coffee table. You're right behind him, seeing the buried tension in his back and shoulders as he feels your presence. You clear your throat as best as you can.

"I don't want the moment to end." He doesn't move, and you find yourself stepping in front of him, between the bookcase and his chest. He doesn't look at you, but allows your hands to find home on his chest. You smooth his shirt cautiously, before patting him gently.

He glances down.

"You're my home, Wonwoo." You say softly, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Your hand moves to his jaw, your thumb gently tracing circles into his cheek. He has a bit of stubble, despite the cool scent of his aftershave. You can't help but let the sacred words slip from your lips as his eyes bore into yours.

"I love you." He looks away, a shaky sob from his lips making your heart ache as you rest your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, so used to your physical affection in years past that it's just muscle memory at this point – despite his own reserved affections. You're surrounded by his scent, his warmth, him.

"I know it won't be easy. I've been gone for five years, and I've missed so much of your life. I know my apologies count for near nothing at this point, but you can't sincerely believe that I haven't yearned for you every step of my journey away." You're slightly muffled, feeling the metal of his necklace under his shirt as he holds you closer, tighter. He doesn't reply, so you keep going.

"I love you, Wonwoo. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to feel it before, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait so long. I'll wait, as long as you need me to. As long as you want me to wait, even if I die waiting–" "I'd wait an eternity for you." He murmurs into your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You shouldn't say that, Wonwoo." "But I did, and I will. I'd die waiting for you, if that's what it takes."

You sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest. "Are you still mad at me?" For the first time in years, you hear him laugh softly. Your arms tighten around his waist reflexively, a pout on your lips as you peer up at him. "I missed your laugh." He huffs, cheeks tinging pink as he avoids your gaze, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm still mad at you. I bet you paid a shit load of money for a cab from the airport, didn't you? You could've just told me to come pick you up. I would've done it." "I wanted to surprise you." "Well…what about your apartment? I didn't even get to recommend this place, you probably went through some real estate guy–" "You're just grappling at things to be mad about, aren't you?" "No. I am mad." He grumbles, his lip jutted out in a pout as you smile up at him.

"You sure? Can't I change your mind, my good sir?" You wiggle your brows, and he scoffs, but you see the twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. He tongues his cheek as your hands move to his face, making him look down at you. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo." He rolls his eyes, your hands squishing his cheeks together. "Prove it." You quirk a brow, "Prove…what?" "That you love me. Prove it." He shrugs, moving your hands off his face and letting them go at your sides. You scoff, gesturing to the air.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" You cross your arms, a defiant look crossing your features as he sighs. His fingers are warm as they tuck a stray curl behind your ear, your skin prickling as he thumbs at your earlobe.  "Of course it's enough." He mumbles, "You'll always be enough. More, even. More than enough for me."

You think he mumbles I love you.

Your face grows hot as he scans it, eyes heavy with purpose and love. For the first time, you allow yourself to realize how nervous Wonwoo makes you – your heart racing in your chest as you lean closer to him. He doesn't back away, his hand now gently holding your jaw. His thumb rests on the corner of your lip, the weight so comforting. "Kiss me." You do just that, your lips crashing into his as he steadies your body. Your hands fist his shirt as he kisses you slowly, walking you back into the bookshelf. Your back hits it gently, his hands cupping your face softly as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as your fingers circled his wrists. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." "I missed you too, Wonwoo."

He struggles to bite back his smile, your lips pressing a chaste kiss to his before peppering them all over his face. "You can't stay mad at me forever, you know." You speak through kisses, his nose scrunching as you press your lips to it.

"I can certainly try. You know I can hold a mean grudge." "Mingyu ate your leftovers once, Wonwoo. He literally cooked for you everyday of college, you need to let it go." "You're taking his side? Some friend you are." He scoffs, his hands pushing your hair off your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his waist, your chin in the center of his chest as you pout up at him.

"I flew all this way, I confessed my love…and I'm your friend?" He tongues his cheek, swallowing his laughter as he shakes his head. "Well, no. A friend wouldn't leave me for five years and then suddenly show back up–" "Wonwoo." " –And expect me to just forgive her. You could at least try and get in my good graces." You huff, "So you hate me." "No, no. I'm very much in love with you, actually. However, though love is merciful…I am not as much. You said you'd wait." "Wonwoo–" "Ah, ah. You said you'd wait. So you will." He shrugs, running his hand through your hair. He twirls a piece around his finger, "I know that you know how I feel about you, from other people's minds and mouths. I think it's best if I get to show you, truthfully and openly. Don't you?" You say nothing just yet, choosing to stare up at him with a hint of worry in your eyes. He glances down, the hand in your hair coming to gently hold your jaw. "What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

You sigh, moving to rest your cheek on his chest. He hums, running his fingertips across your scalp. 

"It's not everyday you find a muse in someone the moment you meet them. Don't worry about me ever not wanting you, me ever not needing you." You don't reply, feeling your nose burn as your eyes fill with tears. He pats the back of your head, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Come, I need to take your picture. You need to fill the last few pages of that album."

And, you comply. You let him wipe your tears, pressing kisses to your eyelids as he sits you at his kitchen counter. He pulls out a gold candle from his kitchen drawer, sticking it in the cake slice from the restaurant and lighting it carefully. He pushes your hair back, and pulls the pendant of your necklace out to rest in the middle of your chest.

"Smile, sweetheart." He murmurs behind the camera, and you do. You smile, glossed lips swollen from the kisses, eyes full of stars as you stare at Wonwoo behind the flash. "Make a wish, quickly." You lean forward, closing your eyes when you see another flash behind your lids. Smiling to yourself, you blow the candle out, quickly taking it out of the cake slice. He offers a fork, and you lean on your elbows as he takes out a few bottles of soju.

"What'd you wish for?" He asks, unscrewing one of the lids off the bottles. You smirk around a bite of cake, shaking your head as he turns away to rummage for shot glasses.

"I'm not telling you, it won't come true." He scoffs, pulling out a set of shot glasses you'd given him during college. They have Snoopy and Woodstock doodled on the sides – he was always Woodstock, you were Snoopy.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I'll make it come true." "What are you, a magician? Tell me what else I missed while I was gone." He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his lower lip as he slides the Snoopy glass over, filled to the brim with fresh soju. You take it carefully, and he raises a brow.

"Tell me your wish, Y/N." You huff, before reaching over to cheers your glass with his. You both knock back the liquor, and you scrunch your nose as you slide it back over to him. He fills it again, and you shift in your chair.

"If I tell you, you'll have to do it." "Stop being so ominous, I hate it when you do that."

He slides the glass back over, only half full as he sidles up next to you. Your hand instinctively wraps around his bicep, and you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll make it come true, Wonwoo." "I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

– SIX WEEKS LATER: GOYANGI'S HOME, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA.

Wonwoo had done exactly as you asked on your birthday – he kept his word, and tried his best to make your birthday wishes come true. Granted, you underestimated him: he would get both done within the six weeks it took to get your shop open.

After the two of you finished off the thick slice of chocolate cake, Wonwoo asked you to spend the night. You did, and a part of you held back tears as he held you in his arms – mumbling in his sleep. Mumbling about how he loved you, how long he'd waited…

How scared he was you'd slip away, like sand in an hourglass timer.

You'd spent the last month and a half glued at the hip. He took you to visit your parents early in the mornings, who bawled uncontrollably and demanded you'd stay all day. Wonwoo hadn't minded, and he stayed with you for dinner several times – and took many odd photos. He never showed you any of them, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, either.

He accompanied you to all your furniture shopping for the shop, he helped choose the paint, he even went as far as taking your website photos. Which, of course, included photos of you – in the kitchen, in your uniform, making a mess of flour and powdered sugar.

Powdered sugar that he kissed off your lips.

Because neither of you could go more than an hour without seeing each other, you practically moved into his apartment. You were spending almost every night there despite your own bed calling your name like a child does its mother. Wonwoo hadn't been kidding about making you wait, either. He let you kiss him, he told you he loved you, yes – but the dates were casual outings. Dinner, picnics, movies. You had a few game nights, and even went over to Hana's for drinks. You'd decided you were each other's plus ones for Mingyu and Tzuyu's wedding, and submitted such information on your RSVP placards.

You spent time together in copious amounts, something you couldn't ever find a fill of. You made him pastry after pastry, coffee cup after coffee cup, back massage after back massage to ease the tension in his shoulders. He gave you a silver necklace, a small letter W hanging from the center. 

You wore it with pride. He didn't ask you to be his girlfriend, and he didn't let you ask any questions about it, either.

Instead, he made your birthday wishes come true – he asked the Museum of Arts if they still needed an exhibit for the season. When they said yes, he submitted his Hanging by a Moment gallery – with a few new additions. You'd loved it, and had proudly gone to the museum at least twice a week to see it.

Now?

You're both standing in your unopened shop, showing your parents everything. The walls are a muted terracotta with a few tangerine accents, to match the feel of the digital photos of your life through Wonwoo's eyes. You asked him to make copies of the photos for you as well, framing them in thick, gold frames.

All but one, that sat in the middle of them all on the wall. "And this is the final installment." He spoke to your parents softly, before gesturing to a photo split in the middle. One half was you, dressed in all black with the silver necklace he'd given you three weeks ago, and holding Wonwoo's digital camera up to your face. Your smile was peeking out from behind your hand, directed right at him.

And the other half was him. The only photo of him in the entire exhibit – of him holding his digital camera vertically against his face, slightly messy hair and a beige t-shirt that was two sizes too big for him but you loved anyway. You'd taken this photo at a street food stand, and he remembers how softly you kissed his cheek right after.

You stood next to him with a soft smile on your face as your father perused the photos, his eyes watery as he looked at the ones of you in college. Your smile, so young and carefree. Your eyes, full of the same shimmer and light you have now – but now, it's brighter. You seem lighter.

Happier.

You seem like you're home.

"What do you think?" You ask gently, wrapping your hand around Wonwoo's arm. He instinctively covers your hand with his, and your father nods.

"I think you're in love." He shrugs, and Wonwoo's cheeks flush almost instantly. You chuckle, squeezing your hand around Wonwoo's arm before patting his chest.

"I've got some new pastries in the oven, shall we? I'm trying a new recipe." You wiggle your brows at your parents, who both smile as you extend your hands to them. They take them gingerly, letting you guide them into the kitchen. You look over your shoulder, sending Wonwoo a quick wink as you slip inside with them.

And, Wonwoo knows.

He knows you love him, as he stands in this shop – named for him, by you. Walls covered in you, by him. He knows you love him as you smile warmly at him, your eyes sparkling in a way he'd only ever seen with him – never with Seungcheol, or Hansol, or Mingyu.

Just him.

So, what does it matter? The moment, why does it matter? Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon?

Why waste it, when he can savor it – the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, touch him, the way you make him feel? How he's gone absolutely mad just looking at you in the mornings, slowly waking up by his side, burying your face into his bare chest? Why waste the moment when he can capture it – your smiles, your tears, the way you cover your face shyly when he compliments you.

Why not live in the moment – the feeling of your lips against his, the way you claw his shirt off, the way you whimper beneath him while fully clothed and untouched? Why not live in the moment, where he gets to hear you laugh like no one's listening, watch you dance like there is no tomorrow? Why not, when you ask him to take the long way home and roll the windows down, singing along to his playlist and feeling the air whip your hair around until your face is frosty from the wind.

Why not live in this moment – when you're so irrevocably in love with him, and he doesn't have to ever question it because you don't even need to tell him? Where you've related him to a cat that always finds its way back home, where you're supposedly the home and you are – but you are also the cat that finds her way home all on her own?

Why not? "Wonwoo? Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He rubs his neck sheepishly, before noticing he's sitting at the bar of your shop, a dulce de leche éclair sitting on a plate in front of him. Your parents are in the corner, holding their own pastries and analyzing the photos once more. You're leaning your back on the bar next to him, your elbows holding you up as you reach over and gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"I said, I love you." "Now, why does it sound like you're scheming? Tell me what you really said." "It is, promise." You chuckle, your hand coming to pinch his cheek softly. He frowns, only making you coo up at him as you brush your lips to his. He glances up quickly, seeing your parents still enthralled by the photo of you and Mingyu at the waterfalls all those years ago. He looks back down, seeing you absently scanning his face as your thumb continues to rub circles into his face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, before your father turns around and clears his throat. You look over your shoulder lazily, and your father has the pastry plates in his hand. "Your mother and I are going to start heading out now, honey. We've got a long drive back, and I'm sure you want to clean up a bit around here before your big opening tomorrow." "You're right, Dad. Thank you for coming, I'm glad you two could be the first to see it." Your voice is so warm, he can feel all the stress from his days just melting right off him as you walk your parents to the front. He follows suit, lingering behind as you and your parents say your goodbyes. He interjects his own, enveloping both of your parents in a hug before pulling away. You both wave as they get into their car, your mother waving back as they pull into the street and all the way down the road, before their car turns out of sight.

You turn around, your arms crossed as you look up.

"Goyangi's Home. What a name, isn't it?" You sigh, before glancing over at Wonwoo. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your giggle is like music to his ears as your hands rest on his chest, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you look up at him.

"Well, you're home, aren't you?" "Aren't you, Wonwoo?"

"I am. I love you, you know."

He feels his chest ache in the best way possible, his heart beating twice as fast as you wrinkle your nose at him.

"I know. I love you, honey." So it's fine. It's fine, as Wonwoo lets you kiss his lips once, twice, three times before you slip back into the shop. It's fine, as Wonwoo walks in behind you, his fingers locking the front door so no one mistakes the shop as open. It's fine, as you hand him a broom and make him sweep the shop while you roll out the dough in the back, your hands coated in flour when he comes to steal a kiss.

Or two, or three – until you're pushed against the industrial fridge, his hands wrapped around your thighs as yours tangle in his hair. He doesn't care about the flour. He doesn't care that you'll both be here late to roll out the stupid dough, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

He doesn't care about the time differences anymore. The kilometers of distance, the aches of missing you. He doesn't care, and he'd do it ten times over just to be worthy of you. 

He doesn't care about how pathetic he might sound as he kisses down your neck, begging you to be his girlfriend, begging you to never, ever leave him again.

He doesn't care about all the painful moments he used to hang onto, because you are the best moment to ever capture.

He cares when you promise that you'll never leave him again, your lips soft against the shell of his ear. He cares when you say yes, you'll be his girlfriend. You'll be anything he wants, for as long as he wants it. So yeah, he'll live in this moment. He'll keep it, hold it, cherish it forever as more whispers float off your lips to one another. I love you.

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna often thinks about what his future would’ve looked like if he didn’t pick his career over you. (inspired by Sienna by The Marías) afab!reader

The idea of what could’ve been keeps burning in his mind. It’s been burning for years, ever since that day he left you behind with your eyes brimming with tears and heart torn in two.

But he had to move forward. He fell in love with the sport before he fell in love with you.

It was all too late to go back and contemplate over the decision again. Uraume had already popped the good champagne and his friends were busy dancing and boisterously laughing inside his penthouse, celebrating the biggest win of his career. All while the champion was standing in the empty balcony, gazing at the glittering streets as the sun set.

His rise to fame was a treacherous yet rewarding journey. He was proud but he was also empty. Maybe if he had just stuck around and suffered a little longer with you then you would’ve been standing next to him today, clinking your flute with his, and laughing at his romantic and flirtatious remarks. He probably could’ve kissed you right after winning the fight and flaunted your ring to the world to announce his retirement after his final win.

Maybe you both would even have a little one being carried around in his brother’s arms for the night. A child too spoilt and adorable for their own good. Maybe they’d have your eyes. Or his—he doesn’t really care. Simply knowing that the child was a product of the love you both shared was enough to fill him with the happiness of multiple lifetimes.

Much to his chagrin, there was no veracity to his dream.

On the other side of the world, you stared at the rising sun as you thought about the past and the upcoming years of your life. How different they were. You came so far. Made so many developments.

Yet your heart still quickens when you remember your first great love, Sukuna Ryomen.

Like most love stories, it was a whirlwind of a romance. A passion felt like no other. It consumed you till you blindly believed that you were a part of his existence. His existence revolved around making you happy. He even said so, often kissing you like you were going to fade away.

But all good things must end.

You thought your life was going to stop when he bid his final goodbye. You slowly learned to get back up on your feet again, picking up the pieces that he broke.

Your heart was bandaged, and a little guarded, but you still welcomed love for you were full of it and had so much to give. A pattern you were willing to repeat.

The diamond on your finger sparkles when the sunlight hits it, bringing your gaze down to where your hand was resting on the window pane.

You often felt guilty when your fiancé talked about children with an enthusiastic hilt in his voice. While he’d revel on about how he’ll spoil the child, you were busy concealing your true thoughts.

Thoughts that made you feel horribly guilty.

What would’ve happened if you had just fought for Sukuna’s love a little harder, latched on to his legs as your scabby knees dragged across the ground as he walked away?

Maybe you’d already have a child in your arms. Your heart often swells whenever you ponder over an imaginary child with Sukuna’s temper. Tiny lips forming a pout with the most expressive eyes ever.

Lately that child has been living in your mind more often than not, making you long for them with their haunting laugh and toothless smiles.

But you know you’ll never see them. Or him for that matter. You’ve put that part of reality away in a box and shoved it deep in the back of your mind so you’ll never forget it.

And so you can be fair to your fiancé who loves you more than you know.

The only thing that gives you solace is the possible existence of alternate universes—different microcosms of the life you could’ve shared with Sukuna Ryomen had he not given you up like you were a fickle thought.

—

I know I said I wanted to get out of the boxer!sukuna bubble but I was having major writer’s block with my sentient game character ghost fic and this drabble just pulled me out of it 👍

[brenwritesss]

My Best Friend's Best Friend

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Azzi’s been one of your best friends since you were a kid. Transferring to UConn was not easy, but having your best friend by your side made it better. That is until you meet a familiar pair of blue eyes that Azzi makes you swear is off-limits.

“Azzi, I can’t do this no more,” you said, pausing to take a long breath out of exhaustion. “Too many boxes.”

Azzi pushed the last box into your new dorm room behind you. Transferring from UMiami to UConn was not what you had in mind a year ago, but after finishing your sophomore year, you knew you needed something different, even if you didn’t want to leave the beautiful Florida beaches behind. When Azzi brought up the idea of you transferring to UConn, at first you didn’t consider it, but waking up every day to a text from your best friend giving you a reason to why you should transfer to her school may have been enough to convince you.

“It’s your fault for packing up this much shit.” She opens up one of the boxes beside you and reaches for an old psychology textbook. “I mean why are you bringing shit like this with you? You’re not even majoring in psychology.”

You take the book away from her, earning a laugh in return. “You never know when you might need it. Besides, this has all of my old notes in it from when I took psychology freshman year…it could be useful.”

Azzi plops onto your new bed, putting her hands behind her head as she lies down. “You call it useful, I call it hoarding.”

Slightly offended at her joke, you take a pillow from the floor and throw it at her. “Watch your mouth, Fudd.”

Azzi catches the pillow with ease and holds it in her lap. “On that note, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you say, smiling at her. You cross your arms over your chest. “At least now I can finally see you ball in person.”

Azzi let out a laugh that proved your point. “Perfect timing now that I’m cleared to play, don’t you think?”

“You calling me your lucky charm or what?” You send a playful wink and Azzi being Azzi, she blushes before rolling her eyes.

“Stop fucking flirting with me.” 

You burst out laughing. “Azzi, babes you need to work on your game,” you say between laughs. “And I’m not talking about ball.”

Azzi could practically get her eyes stuck in the back of her head from the amount of times she was rolling her eyes at you. “You always do this. Enough.”

“It’s not my fault my best friend is so hot,” you continue laughing. “I know I’m not the only one flirting with you.”

“I swear you’re just like Paige,” she says under her breath just enough for you to hear it.

“Paige…like your teammate Paige? From USA basketball camp?”

Azzi meets your eyes and nods. “Yeah, she’s a freak. Always says she’s got ‘top rizz in the world’ or something like that,” she puts her fingers up in air quotations. “She somehow got worse from high school.

“That’ll be crazy to see.” You’ve heard of Paige Bueckers. Who hasn’t? You remember when Azzi first brought her up after competing with her for team USA back in high school. The first time you met Paige was when she flew to Virginia to visit Azzi during her state championship and Katie had you two meet. She definitely made her presence known back then, especially at Azzi’s games, yelling at the refs and constantly bumping into your shoulders.

You remember one night specifically when it was Azzi’s birthday party and when everyone went to sleep, you and Paige went out on a late Taco Bell run because there was no more pizza left. That was the first time you had a real conversation with the blonde girl. And you weren’t oblivious; you noticed when her gaze lasted on you for more than it should’ve. And she always noticed when yours lasted on hers too long. And when you leaned in a little more than you should have; and she mirrored your action.

The last time you saw Paige Bueckers as a friend, you had just received your decision letter from UMiami and had gone to Azzi’s house to open the letter. You remember screaming and jumping with Azzi and her family when you read that you had been accepted. Paige had walked up to you to congratulate you on your admission with a fist bump. The touch was electric and you swore that for five minutes after, you could still feel her knuckles against yours.

Hours later after dinner with the Fudd’s, you walked out of their house to get into your car when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Yo, wait.”

You turn around, seeing Paige in front of you. “What’s up?”

“I’m very happy for you. Miami seems cool.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused as to why she stopped you to say this again when she had said it earlier. “Thanks. Good luck at UConn.”

“Thanks,” she says and pauses, looking as if she was contemplating her next sentence. “Is this the last time I’m seeing you?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. If you ever visit Azzi during breaks, then you’ll probably see me.”

“And if I don’t want to wait until breaks?”

You were taken back. “What?”

“Like when Azzi comes to UConn, which she will, you’ll come visit?”

You shrug again. “Depends on how things go.”

“I’ve actually been wanting to say something to you since that night at Taco Bell.” She looked down at the ground before looking back up at you.

“Okay.”

“Look, what we did…I just want you to know that you kinda been on my mind since.”

You nod slowly. “It’s really hard to take you seriously when you refer to it as ‘that night at Taco Bell.’”

Paige lets out a low laugh. “What would you call it then?”

“Call it what it is. We made out in your car that happened to be parked in the Taco Bell parking lot.”

Paige smiles. “So you’d be down to do it again then?”

“Don’t tell Azzi.”

“Deal.”

“How is Paige?” You ask Azzi, pretending as if you’re just making normal conversation but really, you’re waiting to hear the information you’ve known since you cut things off with Paige.

Azzi shrugged. “Annoying as fuck, ego through the roof, always laughing. So basically the same since you last saw her.”

“Yeah, she’s grown into a bit of a celebrity hasn’t she?”

“Yeah. Have you seen the edits?”

You nod.

“You know what, I should text Paige. Let her know you transferred,” she says, taking out her phone. “I’m sure she’ll be stoked to see you.”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sure she’s busy enough.”

Azzi shook her head. “No she’s not, trust. She asks about you sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I just tell her to text you since she has your number.” Azzi continues to text on her phone, not looking up at you once.

“Like I said, probably busy.”

Azzi puts her phone down after she finishes her text. “One thing I want to talk to you about though.”

“Yeah?” You meet her gaze and bite your lip, waiting to see what she’ll see.

“Paige is a bit different,” she tells you. “I don’t know what happened but after she graduated and came here, she became a bit of a fuckboy. So, if she flirts with you or anything like that, don’t think too much into it because she now flirts with everything with a heartbeat.”

“That’s…interesting,” you comment, knowing the answer as to why she changed. “Out of curiosity, what do you think happened?”

Azzi shrugged. “Don’t tell her I’m telling you this but the Summer before she left for UConn, I think she had a girlfriend or something. She started getting like secretive as fuck and more happy in a way. Then after she left for college, I think they broke up because she was in a slump and started hooking up with girl after girl.”

“Do you know who the girl was?”

Azzi shook her head. “Not at all, but I do know that she broke Paige’s heart. So I automatically hate her by default.”

If only she knew that girl was standing right in front of her.

“Azzi I told you I don’t want to go out tonight,” you argue, trying to walk back to your dorm. 

Azzi’s hand grabs yours and pulls you into step with her. “No, you need to make more friends and I want you to meet the rest of my team.”

“Maybe another time,” you continue to argue. This was the moment you had been dreading when you knew that Azzi would eventually drag you out to see her teammates. More specifically, Paige.

“No, you’re going.”

Azzi opens the door to Ted’s and waits for you to walk in before she does. You immediately scan the bar, looking for the tall blonde and your skin immediately started to crawl when you realized she was nowhere in sight. She should be here, you thought to yourself. This is her place, why isn’t she here?

You tried to convince yourself that you wanted nothing to do with her after you chose to walk away from her, but deep down you knew that was a load of bullshit. You just needed to see her.

“Azzi, over here!” A voice called out from over the loud music in the bar. Both you and Azzi looked over to your left being met with a table full of girls, some of which wearing UConn merchandise. You had recognized some of them from when Azzi would post them on Instagram.

Azzi grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the table. Still there was no sign of Paige.

“This is Y/n,” Azzi said as she introduced you to her teammates. “She just transferred from Miami.”

You take a small step behind Azzi, meeting the eyes of all the tall girls who sat there looking at you. “Hi.” Was all you could say because even though Paige wasn’t there, you could practically feel her presence in the air. And that put you even more on edge.

“Girl boo, why you so nervous?” A girl who you recognized from Azzi’s instagram walked to stand beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “Azzi been talking shit behind our backs or something?”

“KK, can you not?” Azzi laughs over the loud music and grabs a drink that was sitting on the table. “You’re going to scare her off.”

“How can we scare her off? She’s already friends with you,” KK retaliates and the entire table erupts in laughter.

“KK that’s so mean.” A girl who you learn to be Aubrey, says. 

After a while you begin to let loose, taking the drinks that Azzi keeps offering you, knowing that at any moment she could show up and you wanted to be drunk for it. It wasn’t a surprise that the team took you in as if you were one of their own and Azzi couldn’t be happier that you had acclimated so quickly. 

You felt like you’ve been at Ted’s for days, dancing and drinking so much that you felt as if your entire body could explode within a matter of seconds. You normally weren’t much of the party type, even back in Miami. Sure, you had your fair share of frat and sorority parties but you never stayed for more than a few hours, and it helped that your roommate wasn’t that much into the party scene either. 

“So what are you studying?” KK asks you as she sips on a coke.

It takes a while for her words to register with you as your head is being pulled in a million different directions. “Um,” you start, shaking your head as the music somehow gets louder. “Switched from psychology to business my sophomore year.”

KK’s eyes widened slightly. “Period. That’s a huge switch girl.”

You nod, “Yeah, uh…” You can’t feel your head. You can’t organize your thoughts. It’s all too much. You squint your eyes and make eye contact with her. “If you see Azzi, tell her I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back.”

“O-okay,” KK said with a concerned expression, making you waste no time in heading towards the bar’s exit.

As soon as you feel that air rushing to you, you were finally calming down. You took this moment to ground yourself and lean against the wall of the bar, catching your breath. She’s not coming, no reason to freak out. You grab your phone to check the time, seeing that it was only 11:30 p.m. You shut your eyes, feeling yourself becoming even calmer.

A car door slams about a couple hundred feet away from you and the hair on the back of your neck immediately stands up. 

“I told you I didn’t want to come here tonight. Is it so hard to understand that I just wanted to spend time with you alone?” A high-pitched voice echoes through the air.

“And I told you we could have done that any other day. Just not today.” That sounds familiar.

“Why? What’s so special about today that you have to come to Ted’s?” The girl seemed so pissed you could have sworn she would have left by now.

That familiar voice sounded irritated. “Team’s here and I want to hang with them.”

“You see them everyday.”

“Please baby?”

Just look up and open your eyes.

“Fine but you owe me.”

What sounds like a kiss makes it’s way to your ears, making you almost gag on instinct. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

And that’s when you look up and see the tall blonde you have been dreading to see since you arrived in Connecticut. Everything about her was still so perfect. How was that even possible? Those hands you had held, lips you had kissed, arms you’ve been in. The smiles she would give you. It all came rushing back in that instant. Azzi was right, she looked just fine out here without you. You convinced yourself that you would be better without her, finding someone new and moving on. Only in this moment, you realized that she had moved on with someone else and you were stuck right back in the place you had started.

And when her eyes glance up as she’s about to walk into the bar and locks with yours, it’s enough to make her stop in her tracks and make her arms fall to her sides. It’s enough to make you wonder if she really was just fine. You can’t look away and neither can she. Her body tells you that she’s different. That she doesn’t know you anymore. But her eyes tell you that she’s the same girl from senior year. The same girl from the late night drives and secret makeouts. The same girl who told you to come to UConn with her before you left. 

You wake up with a pounding headache, feeling groggy and uncomfortable as you shifted to get out of bed. You pick up your phone which is filled with missed messages from Azzi.

Where you at?

KK said you went out for air but you never came back. U ok?

Should I be sending out a search party for you?

Paige just got here and said she didn’t see you outside.

Didn’t see you? That bitch. You were all she could see for maybe five whole fucking minutes. You text Azzi back: sorry had a pounding headache so went back to the dorm. Sad I missed her, maybe next time.

You put your phone back down to change into a new outfit, figuring the best way to distract yourself from Paige would be to go to the dining hall and eat. After getting changed, you grab your phone and walk out of your dorm room, locking it behind you. When you turn back around, you’re met with a tall body in front of you from across the hall.

“Y/n.” Paige is standing in front of you, hair messy and sweatpants just a bit lower than her waistline, exposing the band of her boxers. It was clear to you where she was coming from. And just your luck that you would be living across the hall from her fuckbuddy.

You wanted to scream at her. For what? You had no idea. You wanted her to feel how you felt last night. Every piece of it. So you may have said the most stupidest response you could have ever said at that moment. “Do I know you?”

Her head tilted slightly, the smallest flash of hurt in her eyes. She bites her lip before responding, “You can’t be serious.”

“You should pull up your pants, fuckboy isn’t a good look on you.” And all you do is walk away, leaving her there in the hallway because even though you want to talk to her, you have to move on now. And she needed to know that.

We need to talk.

You don’t get to be upset with me.

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb, letting out a long sigh before putting on Azzi’s jersey. Today they were playing Seton Hall at home and Azzi immediately dropped off her jersey at your dorm, saying you needed to ‘represent your team and show your support.’ In other words, she wanted to make you finally wear her jersey after you had refused to wear it since high school.

You meet up with Kayla early at Gampel, making sure to get good seats to be able to see the court up close. Azzi had introduced you to Kayla shortly after meeting her teammates and the two of you clicked instantly. Because even though she was good friends with the team, she understood what it was like being on the sidelines while they focused on basketball. 

“Did Azzi make you wear her jersey?” Kayla asked you, eyeing the huge 35 that was written across your torso.

You laugh, nodding to her as you take a picture of the court on your phone. “Yeah, she’s been trying to get me to wear her jersey since high school. I figured I’d finally let her win that battle.”

Kayla laughs along with you. “She tried to get me to wear it too so I opted for a shirt with her face on it. Same with Paige.”

You hated to admit it but your eyes lit up at the mention of Paige. “Bet Paige loved that.”

“Yeah, she did.” Kayla looks over at you. “You’ve known her for a while right?”

“Paige?” you ask. “Yeah, I met her back in high school when she came to visit Azzi.”

Kayla raised her eyebrows. “So how was she in high school? Huge ego or no?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “Ego is always huge. But from what I remember, she was cool. We got along well and she was insane when it came to basketball. Still is.”

“Were you guys close?”

You stay silent for a while, trying to choose the right words. Because you two were as close as two girls could be and nobody knew that. But now you were as far apart as you had been before you had even met. “Something like that.”

The lights dimmed and the announcer came on, announcing the team as each player ran out. Azzi comes running out of the locker room, a huge grin plastered across her face. As soon as she makes it onto the court, she flashes you a smile and sends you a thumbs up, which you return. She sits down as the others run through and you wait for Paige to come out. She was the last to run through and you could feel your heart physically leap out of your chest for her. Fucking embarrassing.

Paige high-fives fans through the tunnels and goes to sit down by Azzi, not before meeting your eyes in the crowd, making her stop in her tracks for just a split second before sitting down. Her eyes were taunting, almost daring you to make a move. And by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t going to reject it either. At least that’s what you were thinking.

The game starts with UConn winning the tip-off and Kaitlyn getting possession of the ball. Throughout the quarter, Paige couldn’t stop making eye contact with you and you knew better than anyone that just your presence alone was enough to throw her off her game. She missed shot after shot resulting in a furious Geno yelling more than usual on the sideline. After missing two free throws, Azzi pats Paige on the back, giving her a look that screams ‘get it together.’ You could tell Paige was tense by the way her hands were balled into fists when she didn't have possession of the ball. She constantly tightened the elastic of her ponytail, a habit she had when she got nervous.

By halftime, Paige looked defeated and maybe that was your cue to leave. It was hard to believe that an ex-girlfriend from high school would be enough to throw off the game of the number one women’s college basketball player in the world. But here we are.

You knew Paige was feeling out of her element, watching past UConn games during your free time back in Miami. She was a good player. A good enough player to not be playing in a funk. Was your presence that triggering?

Eventually, Paige was subbed out, an irritated expression across her face as she sat down on the bench with her shoulders slumped. Caroline sat beside her, patting her shoulder gently to aid her in comfort. Paige took a sip of water before using a towel to wipe off the remaining sweat from her face. You go from staring at the back of her head to making eye contact with her as she turns to look at you. You quickly look away, completely embarrassed over the fact that Paige knew you were definitely already looking at her.

You look down at your feet and then back up towards the game when Paige catches your eye again, nudging her head towards the locker room. You shake your head, trying not to make it obvious to Kayla who was too engrossed in the game even to notice the small interaction. Paige’s mouth created a small line as she gave you an urgent look, resulting in you sighing and getting up out of your seat to walk to the locker room. 

You meet her just past the door. “What?”

Paige closes the door to the locker room, leaving only you two inside. She leans against the door and crosses her arms together in front of her chest. “You’re ignoring me.”

You mimic her movement and cross your arms against your chest. “Ignoring what exactly?”

Paige rolls her eyes. “Don’t fucking be like that. You don’t get to be pissed at me. Why the fuck are you upset with me? I haven’t seen you in four years, Y/n.”

Your name came so effortlessly from her mouth like muscle memory. The way her jersey clung to her body, your eyes outlining her biceps up to her eyes. She was magical. You tear your eyes away, not wanting to make it obvious. “I’m not fucking upset with you. I actually haven’t thought about you once since I’ve been here.”

Paige laughs at that. “Not once? Because the way you looked at me outside of Ted’s and outside of your dorm makes it seem like you have a grudge against me or something.”

“I don’t,” you say, avoiding eye contact with her. “What exactly do you want me to say? It’s clear you moved on.”

Paige’s eyes widened, practically popping out her face. “That’s what this is about? Because of that girl you saw me with?” She unravels her arms from each other and points at you. “You fucking broke up with me four years ago. Why the fuck are you upset about me getting with other people?”

“I’m not fucking upset!” you scream as it echoes across the locker room. “I’m trying to leave you in my fucking past and you keep popping up like a goddamn fly.”

“So you thought transferring to the school where I play basketball was a good way to leave me in your past?” she asked you with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Not everything is about you, Paige,” you say. “I transferred here because I needed out of Miami and Azzi came up with the idea. I don’t care who you date.”

“Right because you definitely weren’t pissed to the point where you pretended you didn’t know who I was when you walked out of your dorm a few weeks ago.” 

“Paige.” Your tone becomes lighter. “Up until that night outside Ted’s, I hadn’t seen you since right before I left for Miami. And you look so different to the point where I don’t recognize you.”

Paige rolls her eyes. “It’s called aging.”

You shake your head, giving her an annoyed look. “I’m not talking about your physical look. I’m talking about senior year Paige who went on late-night drives with me.”

“Well, that was the same Paige who got her heart broken by a girl who didn’t even bother trying to make it work. It was clear you weren’t that into me like I was with you.” You could hear the pain in her voice and that made your heart hurt. Even after four years.

“I didn’t break your heart. I’ve heard the stories about what you’ve been up to since we broke up and it seems like you’re doing just fine.”

Paige shifts her body so that she’s standing in front of you again, practically forcing eye contact. Her having a towering height over you didn’t help either. “And what have you heard?”

You meet her eyes and shrug. “Apparently you get around a lot.”

She shoots you a disgusted look. “And you haven’t? Azzi’s told me about the girls you’ve dated since you left.”

You roll your eyes once more. “Okay.”

“You seem to be really into blue eyes and blonde hair by the way. I wonder who set that type up for you.” Paige smirked at her remark, resulting in you letting out a loud scoff.

“At least I tried to date the girls I was seeing.” You take a step closer. “Do all the hookups help?”

Paige looks down at you, taking a step closer with her hands behind her back. “To get rid of the thought of you? What do you think?” You can’t think of anything else to say and she knows it. She knows she’s getting you right where she wants you. “Why are you upset that I was with another girl?”

“It’s hard not to feel some type of way,” you say quietly, mumbling so fast to save your own dignity.

Paige leans closer. “Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”

You sigh heavily before repeating, “It’s hard not to feel some type of way.”

She leans even closer. “One more time.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You pull away from her and she lets out a laugh.

“So after four years, you’re jealous?”

“And you wouldn’t be?”

The look on her face was priceless. Amused yet confused because five minutes ago you were just screaming at her and now you just admitted to your ex-girlfriend that she made you jealous. Paige stepped closer and you had no interest in stepping back. It took everything in you not to step even closer to her. 

“You’re infuriating and I should hate you.”

You tilt your head up to her. “And do you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” In a second, she’s on you. Pulling at your clothes and moving her mouth with yours. You waste no time in responding to her touch, moving your lips against hers while your fingers tangle into her ponytail. You let a hand drift down to the base of her jawline and all those old, high-school feelings came rushing back. In that moment you realized just how much of a hold she had over you, her touch bleeding into yours. 

This kiss made up for four years of mistakes. Four years of missing her and regretting that decision you made. You needed to prove to her that it wasn’t going to happen again. And by the way her tongue fought against yours was as if she believed it too. Your heart beat picked up as you both fell into a steady and rough rhythm. Paige couldn’t decide whether she wanted her hands around your waist or caressing your lower back, moving her hands upward. You could feel Paige craving you as she moved her lips faster, more aggressively. You kept your hands on her jaw to stabilize yourself as you thought you might faint. You could smell the subtle musk mixed with sweat that drifted off of her, the heat coming off her body and pulling you in.

“What the fuck?” Azzi’s voice pulled your lips apart, causing you to instantly take a step away from Paige, whose hands still lingered on your back.

The two of you, swollen lips and sweaty hands, turn to Azzi who looks as if she has seen a ghost, dropping the towel she was holding from pure shock.

Paige wipes her lips, looking from you back to Azzi. “Az, hey.”

Azzi’s eye twitched, insinuating that she was clearly pissed. “Hey?” Azzi takes a step forward. “What the fuck did I just see?”

You turn to fully face Azzi and Paige looks back at you. You step towards Azzi. “Azzi, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.”

“That’s bullshit. I just saw my two best friends making out.” 

You shake your head, “No, no…” you pause. “Well yeah, but we’re not together or anything. It just happened. A one-time thing, I swear.”

Paige’s head snaps toward yours. You fucked up once again. “One-time thing?”

Azzi looks between the two of you. “Y/n, what is she talking about?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, debating if you should tell Azzi that you and Paige had dated. It felt wrong to keep it from her for this long. You sigh, scratching the back of your neck. “Paige and I used to date back in high school.”

“What?” Azzi asked, clearly hurt written over her face.

You walk towards her so that you’re now right in front of her. “That night at your sleepover when Paige was visiting, we left to go to Taco Bell and things happened in the parking lot which turned into us secretly dating for a while.”

Azzi shook her head and looked to Paige, looking for any sense of clarity. “Paige?”

Paige couldn’t look at her, light tears lining her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Azzi’s head drops. “So you both have been lying to me this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to mess up our friendship or mess up yours and Paige’s,” you say, trying to justify your mistake.

Azzi couldn’t even look at you. “This is fucked, Y/n.” She paces the locker room and suddenly pauses, turning towards you. “You’re the girl.”

“What?”

“The girl who broke Paige’s heart.” Azzi looks between the two of you again. “It was you this entire time?”

Paige steps in front of you, waving her hand slowly in front of Azzi to try to calm her down. “Azzi, that was four years ago.”

Azzi laughs. “So the entire time I watched you hurting was because of my best friend?”

You turn to Paige who avoids eye contact with you. You turn back to Azzi. “It was fucking high school, Azzi. We were both going to college. What was I supposed to do?”

Azzi grits her teeth, pointing a finger in your face. “You weren’t supposed to lie to me. Do you think I would have cared if you dated Paige in high school? No. But now I know that for the past four years, the two of you have been lying to me.”

“Azzi, we didn’t want to hurt you.” Paige stepped in for you, trying to diffuse the situation.

“If you really don’t want to hurt me, you won’t see each other anymore,” Azzi says.

You and Paige both widen your eyes. “What?”

“It would make me more comfortable if you guys didn’t hang out alone. At least not for a while.”

You go to object, wanting to work this out with her to reach any other solution. Because keeping you and Paige apart was not going to end well. 

Paige beats you to it. “Anything you want, Azzi.”

Your heart stops and your head snaps to her. How…why? Did she blame you for everything that’s happened? Why would she agree to that so quickly?

The two of them looked at you as they anticipated your answer. You blink a few times, trying to process Paige’s answer. “If that’s what you want then yeah, no problem at all.”

Azzi gives you both a light smile, nodding in agreement. “Okay good. That makes me feel a lot better actually.” Azzi picks up the towel she dropped on the floor, tossing it into a dirty towel bin. She waves Paige over. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Azzi leaves the locker room as Paige turns to you. “Not really sure what to say.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? Because it sounded like you were very sure when you told Azzi you’d do whatever she wanted.”

Paige leans toward your ear, whispering, “Payback’s a bitch isn’t it?”

And just like that, Paige is gone. Again.

[enwoso]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS | leah williamson

💌 happy valentine’s day my loves x

masterlist

leah had always been proud to wear the captain armband from the moment she'd been handed it. it was everything she'd ever dreamed of as a little girl kicking a ball around with her brother in her back garden.

leading england, inspiring a nation and being part of something bigger than herself was everything she dreamed of. but as of lately the weight of that armband felt heavier than ever.

the loss to germany at wembley was still fresh, the sting of it sharp in her chest as she slumped in the changing room. around her the team moved in a haze - some quietly packing up while others tried to life the mood with half hearted jokes.

leah felt their disappointment as if it were solely her own and she knew it was her responsibility to rally them, even now. that was the job of the captain: to carry the burden, life everyone else, out the team above everything.

but everything included people like you, her girlfriend and leah wasn't sure when she stopped realising that.

leah glanced to her phone which was sat face down on the bench beside her. she hadn't checked it since halftime, knowing there'd be a text from you.

you not being able to make the match at wembley due to other work commitments but leah knew and understood and knew if you could've been you would've been the loudest one there cheering her on.

you made as many matches as you could, encouraging, supportive and loving. you were her anchor, always there to steady the blonde when the world sometimes became too much.

but anchors can only hold so much weight before they snapped.

leah sighed, running a hand through her wet hair as she grabbed her bag and muttered a quick goodbye to her teammates who barely noticed as she slipped out of the room.

mary was stood leaning against the white walls of wembley outside scrolling through her phone more than likely waiting for some of the other girls. glancing up when leah passed an eyebrow raised, "heading out already?"

"yeah" leah muttered, "need some air."

mary nodded as her expression softened but she said nothing. letting leah wander off down the hallway, wash bag slung under her arm.

as leah walked through the winding halls of wembley, her mind racing. she didn't want to go home, not yet. there'd be a post-match debrief tomorrow, tactics to dissect, strategies to reevaluate.

it was all consuming, but it had to be. the team relied on her.

except someone else relied on her too and the blonde had been neglecting that part of her life for a couple of weeks now.

you sat curled up on the sofa, having caught the last thirty minutes of the match but you were not able to sit with a hot mug of tea as your eyes flicked between the clock and your phone which sat perked on the arm of the chair.

the match now, had ended a couple hours ago. leah still wasn't home. but she'd sent a text earlier in the evening:

leah❤️ | 'sorry baby. be home soon, captain stuff. you understand x'

except with each moment when this would happen you were starting to understand less and less.

you'd been understanding for months, years even. you'd cheered leah on from the stands every minute you could, celebrated her victories and comforted her after each loss.

you'd sacrificed evening, weekends, and family commitments to make room for leah's hectic schedule. but the balance that once made your relationship with the blonde so special had shifted and now it felt like you were the only one willing to make the sacrifices.

finally after a few hours, longer than you expected her to be. leah closed the door to the apartment with a sigh, her body heavy from the loss and her mind reeling with what could've gone differently on the pitch.

the blonde barely having time to drop her bag before you appeared in the doorway of the living room, your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorframe, your expression a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"baby-" leah began but you cut her off before she even had the chance to give you another word. 

"no. don't. don't you dare try and act like everything is fine, leah."

leah froze, taken aback by the sharpness in your tone, "what are you talking about? i just-"

"no, you just ignored me again," you snapped. "i've been waiting all week for us to have some time together after you've been on camp, but you didn't even ask if i needed you after the match. instead i just got some generic excuse about 'captain duties' and left me here alone. again."

leah frowned, her defenses but also her stubbornness kicking in, "y/n, it not like i wanted to. but i had responsibilities-" 

"and what about your responsibility to me?" you interupted, your voice cracking. "what about us leah? or have we become less important than a post-match briefing?"

leah's jaw tightened, "no, no thats not fair. you know how much pressure i'm under. i'm doing this for the team - for the country! i don't have the luxury to just drop everything."

"and i'm not asking you to. you know i'm always proud of you, your biggest fan." your voice rising slightly as your frustration was beginning to build and start to spill over. "all i'm asking is for you to see me. to care enough to put me first sometimes. but instead, you keep proving over and over that everything else seems to come first; football, the team, being the perfect captain. i'm tired, leah."

you stopped as you sighed, your voice starting to feel a little shaky, "i'm tired of always coming in second."

leah stepped closer, her hands outstreched as if to physically hold you back from walking away. "y/n, please. don't say that. you're not second - i love you. i'm just.. i'm trying to do everything. i'm trying to be everthing for everyone.”

your eyes softened for a moment, but your voice remained steady. "you don't have to be everything for everyone, leah. you just have to be there for those who love you. but right now, i don't think you know how to do that and i don't think i can keep pretending like i'm okay with being left behind."

leah could feel her throat getting tighter and tighter by the second, panic beginning to set in with each word that left your lips. "so, i- what are you saying? you're leaving? baby? don't- please, don't do this." leah stutter out as she tried to reach out for you again as you brushed her off. 

you shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. "i'm not leaving, leah. i'm gonna go and spend the weekend at my mum's, i need some space. time to figure out if i can keep doing this, if we can keep doing this. i'll be back sometime on monday, but for now, i just need to breathe."

leah reached out grabbing your hand, her voice breaking. "y/n, please. i can't lose you. i'll do better - i promise. just.. don't go, please."

you gently pulled her hand away, you voice low and soft but firm. "i'm not leaving to punish you, leah. i just need some space. i'll see you on monday."

leah stood frozen as she watched you grab your bag which you'd obviously packed while she was taking hours to come home, as you grabbed your coat and left. the sound of the door shutting being and echoing in the now-empty apartment.

as you walked along the street towards the tube station, on route to your mum's house as the streets were gloomy lit as a cold breeze hitting your hands as your mind filled with thoughts but it was short lived as the sound of you phone buzzing snapped you out of your thoughts, glancing at the screen to see a message from beth. a link to no doubt another tiktok she'd found funny.

you hesitated before picking your phone up and typing a response, liking the message with the link before your thumbs moved quickly across the screen.

you | 'can we meet for coffee tomorrow?'

meado🐾 | 'course! the usual place at 10?'

meado🐾 | 'everything okay?'

you | 👍🏻

—

you walked into the usual coffee shop, your coat pulled tight around you protecting you from the winter air. as you spotted beth sitting at a small table near the back two cups of steaming cup of tea in front of her as she waved you over.

"you alright?" she asked as you sat down.

you paused for a minute, opening your mouth to try and say something before you shook your head, "not really," you voice heavy with emotion.

beth gave you a sympathetic smile, "figured as much, what's happened?"

you took a deep breath, your hands fiddling with the edge of your jumper. "it's le, she's.. i dunno. she's, just so caught up in every. being captain, the team, the media. i know it's important to her beth, i really do. but, but i feel like i don't exist in her world anymore.."

beth frowned, leaning forward. "she's has been distant, hasn't she?"

you nodded, your voice shaking. "she used to make so much time for us even when timings weren't great. but now? i'm lucky if i get five minutes with her where she's not thinking about football. and last night, she said she would be home straight away after the match but then she just.. disappeared. captain duties apparently."

beth let out a slow breath, the girl being out in a difficult position. leah was one of her best friends and admittedly had known the blonde longer but she knew you and how much her best friend was in love with you.

"that.. that sounds like leah. she's not the best at juggling things when she's under pressure. it's like sometimes she forgets there's a life away from the pitch"

you eyes filling with tears, "i’ve tried to be patient, beth. i've tried to understand but i feel like im screaming into the void. she keep saying she'll do better but it's always the same. and i- i don't know if i can keep doing this.."

beth reached across the table, giving your hand a squeeze, "listen, i love leah to bits but she can be stupid and stubborn but she's lucky to have you and she needs to realise that before it's too late. but just be honest with her, your not asking too much. your asking for what you deserve."

you sniffed, trying to hold back a sob. "what is she doesn't change? what if this is just.. who she is now?"

beth's expression hardened, "if she doesn't change she's the one whose going to lose but if i know leah, she's not going to let that happen."

you sighed, staring into the tea in front of you, "i feel like i'm failing her by even thinking about walking away. like i'm giving up on her.."

beth shook her head, "no your not failing her, your asking for what you need. relationships aren't supposed to be one-sided and if leah can't see how much this is hurting you. she's the one that needs to wake up."

you hesitated, you voice barely a whisper, "and if she doesn't?"

beth leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. after a long pause, she said, "then that's a question only you can answer. but if there's not thing leah doesn't do and that's give up on those she loves. sometimes she just needs a little push in the right direction."

your lips twitched into a faint smile, "you really believe that?"

beth grinned, "i do and if she doesn't get it together then i'll personally give her a good kick up the backside for you"

that pulled a small laugh out of you, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, "thanks beth, i needed this."

"of course," beth said raising her mug in a mock toast, "just remember your not asking for anything y/n, your asking for enough and leah? she'll figure it out."

—

leah sat on the sofa, where she'd spent the past day and a half. her head in her hands as her phone lay o her chest, her mind replaying the argument from saturday night, over and over in her mind. her chest ached with guilt and frustration and for the first time, she didn't have an immediate solution to fix what she had so clearly broken.

she'd spent the entire today, sunday, in her thoughts. she hadn't moved all day, nothing in the apartment had been touched or moved as the spent it just moping around as she checked her phone every ten minutes just in case you had messaged to say you were on your way home.

you hadn't. the last message from you was: 'got to my mum's okay.'

so simple and to the point. no usual goodnight message or a simple 'i love you' nothing. and while leah knew she deserved it, she would be lying if she said it didn't sting a bit as she stared back at the bright screen.

this time her when her phone buzzed she leaped up to grab it, it must be you. it was embarrassing really how fast she scrambled to get to her phone as it sat on the coffee table. but as she saw beths name, a little part of her sunk as she sighed and picked it up reading the message.

beth | 'you better be writing a long love letter and ways to apologise before i personally mess you up, williamson!'

leah | 'not now beth. i'm already miserable."

beth | 'good, as you should be. that poor girl. y/n deserves better than the leah williamson that you've been giving her. you need to get it together before she decides she's better off without you.'

leah stared at the message, her heart sinking with each word of beth's message she read. it was ture though. beth wasn't the type to sugarcoat thing, which is something as to why the two got along for so long. 

she set her phone down, her mind racing. she couldn't afford to lose you - not when you were the one thing that made all the chaos in her life go quiet. when she was with you, the whole world stopped and leah was at peace. but promises wouldn't be enough this time. she ahd to show you that she could change, that she could be the partner you needed and wanted.

for the first time in weeks, leah wasn't thinking about tactics or training. she was thinking about the person she loved and hoped she would get to spend the rest of her life with - and how she could win you back.

—

leah didn't sleep thay night. she lay in the bed, the one you usually shared together. the bed which usually felt too small as you'd cling to leah throughout the night as if she was you personal heater. the bed feeling that little bit more bigger now you weren't in it with her.

as she stared at the ceiling, the sound of your voice from the argument playing on repeat in her head.

'you don't see me anymore, leah. you see england. you see the armband. but you forget to see me.'

every word had been a dagger to the heart. a reality check for the blonde. and for the first time in her life, leah felt truly lost in herself. she had always prided herself on being a leader, someone who could hold everything together. but she was beginning to see that her leadership had coem at a cost and a big one at that and it was one she couldn't afford to pay.

by the time the sun began to rise, leah had already been pacing the apartment scribbling notes in a notebook she'd found lying on the dinner table. pages were filled with ideas, crossed out apologies and half-formed plans to fix what she'd broken.

flowers? no, too cliché.

a handwritten letter? maybe, but it wouldn't be enough on its own.

a proper date? but what would that even look like when you were still so hurt?

leah was mid-sentence in her brainstorming when her phone buzzed.

beth | 'have you started groveling yet, or do i need to come over and supervise?'

leah | 'i'm working on it. give me a break.'

beth | 'breaks are for those who didn't mess up. times a ticking williamson.'

leah couldn't help but laugh at the message, though the weight in her chest didn't lift. she stared at her notebook again, willing herself to come up with something that would show you just how much she cared.

you returned to the apartment late that same monday night, keeping your promise just like you said you would. but as you walked through the door, you stopped in your tracks as your bag slid down your arm. the living room looked completely different.

the coffee table had been cleared as it had been previously stacked with empty water bottles. now was covered with a neatly folded tablecloth and two plates of what appeared to be your favourite pasta dish. soft candlelights flickered as faint sound of music played from the speaker in the corner.

leah stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, wringling her hands. "i, uh.. i wanted to apologise properly." the blonde said, her voice usually so confident and full of herself was quiet and so uncharacteristically nervous.

you raised an eyebrow, your eyes scanning around at the setup, "you did all this?"

"yeah" leah shifted her weight from one foot to another as she looked more like a nervous schoolgirl than the captain of england.

“i know i've messed up, y/n. i realise now i've been putting everything else above us and it's not fair to you. you're the best thing in my life and i've been treating you like an afterthought. i'm so, so sorry my love."

your arms crossed, your expression unreadable to the blonde, "le, this isn't something you can fix with dinner and candles."

leah nodded quickly, "i know, i know this is just a small step. but i'm trying, y/n. i'm trying to show you that i want to be better, i want to put you first. but i can't just say it - i have to show it.”

you hesitated, your eyes softening just a inch, "but what's changed, leah? what makes you think this time is going to be different?”

leah took a deep breath, taking a second to steady her voice, “‘cause i’m not trying to be better for you, i’m trying to be better with you. i know i’ve so focused on being captain that i’ve forgotten how to be a girlfriend. but i don’t want to lose you, y/n. you mean far too much to me.”

you looked at her for a long moment before finally sighing, “your lucky i love you, le. but this isn’t fixed yet, it’s going to take time for me to trust that things will actually change.”

leah stepped closer, pulling you closer to her wanting to feel some sort of comfort in your presence which had been missing the past day and a half. “i know. and i’ll wait as long as it takes, as long as you let me prove it to you.”

later on that night after many stolen kisses and mumbled apologies, you were sat at the table slowly eating the pasta leah had made. leah’s phone buzzing with another message from beth.

beth | ‘so? did you manage to not screw up anymore?’

leah | ‘she’s giving me a chance, but i’ve got a long way to go.’

beth | ‘good, keep groveling or i’m still coming to mess you up!’

leah | ‘noted!’

leah looked up from her face a small smile tugging at the side of her lips as your brows furrowed in curiosity. “what’s tickled you?” you asked, the sound of your fork dropping to the side of the plate as leah put her phone to one side.

“just beth threatening to mess me up if i screw up again. but i’m serious about making this work” leah said her tone getting quieter as she looked for an expression in your face as an amused look appeared on your face.

“i know” you smiled, your tone softer, “but if you do screw up, i’ll mess you up first before beth..”

a small chuckle left leah’s lips but she knew from your tone you were serious but she wasn’t planning on screwing up so in reality she had nothing to worry about.

“noted!” leah nodded, determination settling in her chest. as she moved to your side of the table and planting her lips onto yours, “i love you” she mumbled against them before pulling you back in.

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ it’s valentines day and cinderella!reader can’t help but feel a little jealous !

you can find all other writings for this au here.

happy early valentine’s day 💌

february 14th.

you scribbled the date in the top corner of your notebook as you sat in the classroom, trying to focus on the lecture taking place in front of you. the clock on the wall ticking slowly, each second dragging as you notice the chatter amongst students all discussing their valentines evening plans and most people seemed like they had something exciting to look forward to. whether it was a big party, dinner dates, bouquets of flowers being delivered at their door but you, on the other hand, knew exactly what your evening ahead looked like, the same as it did every year.

you’d be working at the diner, serving endless refills of coffee and late night pancakes, offering people the valentine’s day special your stepmother had made up which was just a strawberry milkshake that was the same as the one served all year round, just with a hefty price increase but you’d smile sweetly through it, serving sickly sweet couples and pretending you were happy to be doing it.

this year would be slightly different for you though, you had a valentine for the first time, but in a way it didn’t feel any different because the truth was, chris still didn’t know who you were. it didn’t matter that you were falling for him more and more with each day that passes because the reality was the same as it always had been this whole time, he was living his life and you were living yours, still too afraid to let him in completely.

you glance over at chris, sitting in the back corner of the room, surrounded by his usual crowd, it was always hard to ignore the way people so easily gravitated towards him, laughing and joking with him like he was the center of their world, you can understand that, though.

you knew there was probably a long list of girls lined up, all wanting him to be their valentine, just waiting to ask him and yet, despite all of the attention he received and the situation the two of you were in, he still chose you. the thought caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, quickly followed by a rush of anxiety. out of everyone, chris sturniolo had chosen you.

your thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open, and in walked nick, followed closely by nate, who was dressed in a cupid costume, complete with a fake bow and arrow and a pair of wings twice his size.

“it’s valentine’s day people,” nick announces, strolling to the front of the classroom next to where your professor was stood, nick’s voice loud and confident. “and you know what that means.”

“it’s the annual lollipop delivery,” nate grins, as he pretends to shoot his arrow over to the football team in the corner.

the lollipop delivery was a tradition that took place every year, students could send anonymous heart-shaped lollipops to anyone on campus, and they would get delivered throughout the day during class, people sometimes added handwritten notes to their lollipops but most people kept it simple. you weren’t expecting any. you had already received yours earlier this morning in your first class of the day, knowing it was from your best friend. you’d sent her one back, the way you did every year and of course, you’d sent chris one too.

nick began making his rounds, you could feel the excitement in the room building as everyone waited to see if they were going to get one. he moved down the aisles, handing out the lollipops to students and ticking them off his list, nate following closely behind him, dishing out a wink or a flirty comment or two.

when nick reached chris’s desk, it was obvious that the delivery was mostly for him. one by one, he handed chris lollipop after lollipop, before glancing at his list and dumping the rest of the box onto chris’s desk, knowing they had all been sent for him. chris laughed, trying to downplay the attention, stacking the sweet treats on the corner of his desk, his casual grin doing little to hide the fact that he was the centre of attention, as always. meanwhile, you sat there, struggling with a feeling of jealously you couldn’t shake, one that you also couldn’t do anything about.

as silly as it seemed, each one chris had received was a reminder of how distant he truly was. in private, he was yours, but moments like this only made it painfully clear how many others were chasing after him, pushing you a step further away from confessing your identity to him.

the bell rings, signalling the end of class and you stand up, eager to leave. as you grab your things together, you can’t help but notice the group of girls heading toward the football team’s corner of the classroom, likely to tell chris about the lollipops they had sent him. it makes you feel stupid, knowing the one you had sent was now just another amongst the pile on his desk.

as you’re leaving the classroom, you notice nick standing alone just outside the door, looking up at you as if he had been waiting. you stop for a moment, and he flashes you a smile. “hey,” he greets you, his tone friendly. “i completely forgot to give you this earlier.” he says, handing you a lollipop. “it’s a lollipop from me,” he adds, his smile genuine as he meets your gaze.

you watch him walk away, feeling confused but then you notice a folded piece of paper tucked under the lollipop’s wrapper. curious, you open it and as your eyes read the words on the paper, your breath catches.

“he’s in love with you. tell him who you are.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics 💌

[meinii]

“be my valentine forever”

summary: it’s valentine’s day, but you haven’t even heard from Sylus. he must have forgotten… or so you thought

content: fluff

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

valentine’s day had never been a big deal to you—at least, that’s what you always told yourself. but this year, it felt different. maybe it was because everyone at work had been receiving flowers, chocolates, and gifts all day.

maybe it was because you had seen couples walking hand in hand, smiling, whispering sweet nothings to each other

or maybe it was because Sylus, your arrogant, smug, too-clever-for-his-own-good lover, hadn’t even mentioned valentine’s day once

you knew he was busy. ruling over Onychinus wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five job, and he had a habit of getting wrapped up in his own plans. but still… not even a text? not even a simple happy valentine’s day?

so by the time your shift ended, irritation had settled in. you walked out of the building, ready to head home and sulk—only to freeze in your tracks

because standing right outside, dressed in his usual sharp black blazer draped over his shoulders, was Sylus

and in his hands? a massive bouquet of red roses, dark petals velvety and rich. an expensive-looking box of chocolates sat on top of them, tied with a sleek ribbon

his red eyes found yours instantly, sharp as ever, but there was something playful in them, something teasing

“took you long enough” he said, his lips curving into that knowing smirk

you crossed your arms, trying to keep up the front of being mad. “oh? now you remember valentine’s day?”

Sylus let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the scent of roses and his cologne mixing in the air. “did you really think I’d forget?” he tilted his head slightly “you wound me”

“you didn’t say anything all day.”

he leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek

“because I was planning a surprise”

before you could protest, he slipped an arm around your waist and led you toward his car—a sleek, black vehicle that practically screamed power and wealth

“get in” he said, opening the door for you

“and if I say no?” you teased, still holding onto your stubbornness

his smirk deepened “then I’ll just carry you.”

you huffed but slid into the car anyway, pretending not to notice the way your heart was racing. once Sylus was behind the wheel, the drive was smooth, the city lights flashing past. you wanted to ask where you were going, but the way he kept glancing at you, amusement dancing in his eyes, told you he wouldn’t spill

when the car finally came to a stop, you blinked in surprise

“the luna park?”

but something was off. it was quiet. no lines. no crowds

Sylus got out first, walking around to open your door before holding out his hand

“rented it for the night,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world “figured we deserved some privacy.”

your mouth fell open slightly “you… rented out an entire amusement park?”

he hummed “it’s valentine’s day, isn’t it? I don’t like sharing.”

your irritation melted instantly, replaced by warmth so strong it made your chest ache.

taking his hand, you let him lead you inside, the colorful lights of the park reflecting in his red eyes

the first thing he did was take you to one of the stalls, where plushies lined the shelves as prizes

“which one do you want?” he asked

you pointed at a soft-looking crow plush, its dark feathers making it stand out among the rest

Sylus arched a brow but didn’t question it

instead, he rolled up his sleeves, picked up one of the balls, and in a single throw, knocked down every target with effortless precision

the worker—who must’ve been paid well to stay late—looked half-impressed, half-terrified as he handed over the crow plush.

Sylus placed it in your arms, his fingers brushing against yours

“it suits you” he murmured

“because you gave it to me?”

his smirk softened, just slightly “because it’ll remind you of me”

you couldn’t help but laugh, hugging the plush to your chest. as the night went on, you rode the ferris wheel, played more games (where Sylus, unsurprisingly, never missed a shot), and even bought matching headbands—yours with little stars, his with tiny black horns

“I’m not wearing this” he said at first

“please?” you tilted your head, giving him your best pleading look

he sighed, muttering something under his breath, but he put it on. and even though he pretended to be unimpressed, he didn’t take it off for the rest of the night.

eventually, you both found a bench near the carousel, the distant sound of music filling the air. you pulled out the box of chocolates he had given you earlier and opened it, picking up one of the pieces

“eat with me” you said, offering him one

Sylus glanced at it, then at you “I don’t eat sweets”

“just one,” you insisted “for valentine’s day”

he sighed again, but when you placed the chocolate against his lips, he didn’t pull away

instead, he let you feed it to him, his gaze never leaving yours as he bit down

“happy now?” he asked, voice lower than before

you grinned, popping a piece into your own mouth “very”

there was a brief silence, the world around you feeling far away. Sylus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling at the back of your neck, pulling you closer

“be mine,” he murmured “not just today, forever.”

your heart skipped a beat “is that your way of asking me to be your valentine?”

his lips twitched “do I even need to ask?”

you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of chocolate “yes,” you whispered “forever.”

Sylus smiled against your lips, and for once, there was no arrogance in it. just something deep, something real

[aashiqeddiediaz]

call this little ficlet thursday, this is @deareddie's fault and is inspired by the h50 episode where danny asks steve what he's wearing and guesses, "cargo pants."

“What are you wearing?”

A laugh startles its way out of Eddie. He abandons the box he was just opening to pick his phone up, turning the speaker off. “What?”

“Well, you won't tell me anything else.” Buck’s laughter filters across the line, teasing and warm and everything that makes Eddie’s heart hurt now that he’s 800 miles away from him. “So, what are you wearing, Eddie?”

It’s that tone that Eddie gets stuck on, all low and flirty the way Buck gets sometimes. Harmless to everything except Eddie’s heart, which kicks in gear every time he hears it. 

Like the day he'd found Eddie's iPad flipped over, an innuendo pressed into the curve of his smirking mouth, evidently unaware of what was to come.

Sometimes, he wonders if Buck ever means the things he says to Eddie — if he ever imagines things being a little different, of meeting Eddie at a bar and putting the moves on him. The same moves Eddie’s made fun of him for countless times, good-natured and teasing the way they are with each other.

But then he thinks about his Buck, sweet in his awkwardness, and heart worn on his sleeve, and wonders if he even wants that cocky front. He has no doubt Buck could back it up, knows that there’s a world of truth and skill behind that cockiness, but the man he wants is the one with mismatched socks who slips and slides in Eddie’s kitchen, accidentally knocking over flour bags and leaving trails of cinnamon sugar in the tile grout.

He thinks about the Buck who'd walked into the realization that Eddie was going to leave, and despite his clear sadness, had stuck by Eddie' side, sharing the misery with him.

He thinks about the Buck who challenges him, shoves at him, bullies his way into Eddie's life, the one who drives him up the fucking wall — and the same one he wouldn't have any other way.

He'd fallen in love with his version of Buck, pushy and annoying and endearing and his whole goddamned family.

Hell of a time to have that realization — looking at Buck standing in the rain in his side mirror, his expression devastated and crumpled. The knot of too late, too late, too late had formed in Eddie's gut at the sight, and has only gotten bigger in the 26 hours since.

26 hours since he left LA, left Buck standing alone in front of the only house that's felt like home outside of his Abuela's home, and they've already talked on the phone for a good 7 of those hours.

“Why do you want to know?” Eddie returns, lowering his voice in turn. He knows this game, knows how he can modulate his own voice, make it a little rougher, add an edge to it. He knows how to add the suggestive tone to his own voice, too.

Even with as clumsy as it sounds to his own ears, Buck’s breath hitches over the line.

Eddie smiles, looking down at himself. The Texas humidity had started sticking to him by the time he unpacked the third box from the back of the U-haul, so in actuality, he’s just in a pair of shorts, his shirt thrown off somewhere among the piles of stuff in the rental. He's sweaty and gross, covered in dust and grime, and even a little grease because his truck had started making a foreboding sound and Eddie was not about to have it crap out on him after 12 hours on the road.

So all in all, he looks gross, but he'll play into this fantasy anywhere.

“Eddie.”

Eddie knows what hope sounds like on Buck. Knows what Buck sounds like when he wants answers, can picture him clearly in his mind. Bright blue eyes, head ducked down and cocked slightly to the side.

“Buck,” Eddie says, letting his voice warm with amusement. “Ask me again.”

There's a line in the sand here, one that Eddie brushes away with a swipe of three words. Tomorrow, he'll focus on Chris and his parents and everything else he needs to do, but today, this is for him and Buck.

A beat of silence. Then, lower and rougher and flirtier than before — “What are you wearing?”

Eddie grins.

[melodyreads]

Only threw this party for you

Hamzah x (fem)reader

Description: It's the reader's birthday and she decided to host a "rager". Her friends are skeptical as she's never been interested in hosting parties. Little do they know, it was all planned with the hope that one person in particular would make an appearance.

a/n: I'm sure you can tell from my profile pic that I'm a huge Charli fan lol. This idea came to me as I was playing this album on repeat. Hope y'all enjoy <3

---

The bass thumped against the walls, the thick air overbearing with the smell of spilled drinks and hot bodies. You had never been one for house parties—especially not the kind filled with strangers you barely knew. But this made the party all that much more appealing right? Tonight was different.

Tonight was a gamble.

Your friends had raised their eyebrows when you’d proposed the idea. "Since when do you throw parties?" Taylor had asked, skepticism lacing her tone. You’d only shrugged, feigning nonchalance, while anticipation clawed at your ribs. You have just recently moved into a new apartment with lots of space, so this could be your chance to show it off. While everyone else thought this was just a random burst of spontaneity, you knew better.

You’d planned every detail of this night with one hope in mind:

that Hamzah would show up.

Hamzah had been your friend for years— at least, that was how you would describe him. You weren't even sure if he felt the same way anymore. Your friendship teetering on the edge of something more but never quite crossing that line. That was until one night you had said a few more words then you should have.

---

It had been late, just the two of you lingering in the glow of streetlights after the rest of your friends had gone home. He always walked you home.

His arms rested in his pockets as he looked down at you smiling while you recited a story you found hilarious.

"Can you believe that? She went that far all for some guy. I can't even imagine."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, people do crazy things for the people they like."

You laughed, a little breathless, but his smile made your heart skip. It was like there was a quiet understanding between the two of you, a connection that lingered in the spaces between your words.

As we arrived at my apartment, something in the city air made me feel a bit too confident. Suddenly, words tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. "Honestly, I can only imagine going that far if he was someone like you."

Too much.

Hamzah stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape with wide eyes.

You had let your guard slip.

He hadn’t responded right away. His gaze had flickered, searching yours, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came. The silence stretched too long, thick and suffocating, until finally, he had only managed a quiet, "I should go."

___

That was the last you had heard from him in weeks. You were too embarrassed to phone him or go by his house and apologize for making the situation so weird.

You tried not to scan the crowd too obviously, though your heart shot up each time the front door creaked open. Friends mingled, and people you barely knew were making out in corners. Almost everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing in dim lighting without a care in the world. Someone had taken control of the playlist, swapping your mix of what you liked to call, "gay club music" with Nettspend.

Still, no Hamzah.

You were starting to lose hope.

You went outside in an attempt to cool off. The view was the highlight of your new place. The city lights shined brightly as you looked down imagining what the rest of the world was doing tonight.

What he was doing.

Your head turned to see the steam rolling off the newly integrated pool on your balcony. Beside the view, it was your favorite part of the apartment, and one of the main reasons you fought so hard to secure this place. You looked back through the door you came from.

No one seemed to notice you were even gone.

You slowly removed the short dress you were wearing. As you kicked it to the side, you plunged into the warm water.

The warmth of the water wrapped around you, contrasting against the crisp night air. You let yourself float, eyes closed, taking in the sacred peacefulness. You felt your heart start to ache. You weren’t sure if it was the remnants of disappointment or the burn of anticipation that you couldn’t quite shake.

When you finally broke the surface, slicking your hair back and blinking against the city lights, your breath caught in your throat.

Hamzah was there.

Sitting by the edge of the pool, laying back on his arms, watching you with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes bore into yours with an expression almost unreadable The golden glow of the city cast soft shadows across his face, making the moment feel almost unreal.

You suddenly became acutely aware of your lack of clothes.

Your stomach twisted as embarrassment crept up your spine. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to maybe make a joke and defuse the tension, but nothing came out. He beat you to it.

“You always do this,” he said in a deep but quiet voice.

Your brows knitted together. “Do what?”

“Run away.”

You swallowed hard, shifting in the water as you hugged your arms around yourself. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Hamzah let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I just… I needed to think.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. The air between you buzzed with an unspoken weight, the memory of your last encounter hanging between you like a feeling you couldn't shake.

Then, in the silence, he said it.

“I like you.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “And I freaked out when you got close because I didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too quickly. The warmth of the pool did nothing to ease the chill spreading through your veins—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of his words.

You started to move towards him.

Reaching for the ledge, you pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to get the bottom half of his clothes wet.

The space between you dissolves into nothing. Your fingers found his jaw, your fingers finally meeting at the side of his mouth before leaning in.

The moment his lips met yours, it was like everything clicked into place.

Your mouths moved against each other in fever as if you were both making up for lost time. Which you definitley were.

In one swift movement, he pulled you out of the water completely so that your drenched body was straddling his. The tension that had been lingering for weeks melted in the heat of the kiss. He tasted like the city night and something inherently him—something you had been wanting for longer than you cared to admit. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the slick fabric of your bra, grounding you in the reality of it all.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

"So..." Hamzah said out of breath, "Who’s the lucky guest of honor?”

You shrugged, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you. “Dunno. Just… felt like celebrating.”

He chuckled at this, something dark in his eyes shined as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“Happy birthday, then,” he murmured, voice softer now.

Maybe—just maybe—the gamble had paid off.

---

a/n: Just wrote this in my 365 partygirl shirt hope I channeled the vibes. Thank u for reading <3333333333333333

[havocandcchaos]

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS

Glinda is insanely flawed and insanely human, and she is us in the story. And so many people ignore that because it's uncomfortable. it's easier to say she's wholly good or wholly evil because then you can condemn her or praise her instead of stopping and looking in a mirror. The wizard was right when he said very few people are ok with moral ambiguities, and most of the audience doesn't fall into that category, and that's why so much of the musical is being diminished to simpler and easier terms. Which DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT.

Glinda is easier to accept when she's evil. Elphaba is easier to accept when she's perfect. Fiyeros is easier to accept when he's madly in love. They're all easier to accept when they're not human.

Except the whole point is that they are.

Glinda is terrified the whole show, and that's what drives her. She's scared of being alone. She's scared of loving Elphie. She's scared of the world around her. She is scared of death. She's scared of losing Elphie. Ultimately, it's that last one that wins out because she loses Fiyero, and in her mind, she basically already lost Elphie, but she won't let her die, too. Not if she can help it. And then she can't help it. Elphaba Thropp is dead. And every single one of her fears came true. She was right the whole time. They were never gonna win. They were in a tragedy, and she knew it, and she was right about it. But by god, she's got nothing left to lose but her life, and frankly, she doesn't want it that much anymore anyway, so she takes up Elphaba's cause and she fights, and if it kills her then let it.

Elphaba makes mistake after mistake after mistake, but she's on the "right" side, so she's clearly perfect. Elphaba fails. Life for the Animals in Oz only gets worse, and sure, she saves a few people and changes a few minds, but at the end of the day, she isn't able to do much more than make things worse. She made things easier for Morrible and the Wizard. But she is the protagonist, so she is perfect instead of learning from her mistakes and realizing that revolutions don't work if you're only fighting for one small group without finding a way to loop in more people and make more people care.

(I believe humans are naturally empathetic. I also believe we have that beat out of us before we can walk. Most people aren't going to fight to change a system that isn't actively killing them. It can be hurting them or killing them slowly, but if they're not actively full of bullets, they're not going to exert the energy to change. And even if they are full of bullets, by then, they'll feel it's too late.)

And Fiyero, god bless him, is so dumb. That boy wants to die from the moment we meet him, and Elphaba gives him a way to do it. Yes, he loves her, but god, he's just tired, and he mostly just wants out, and if he can have that for a good cause, then all the better. There is a lot to learn from Fiyero, but when he's whittled down to a perfect man in love, he is no longer any different from every basic love interest and everything he brings is lost (just like he wanted it to be)

I cannot stress enough how much I love the movie and how much I love that it's becoming more mainstream because that means more content for me to consume about it, but oh my god, if I see one worse take about these characters, especially from people how HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN PART 2, I will start throwing hands.

If you simplify the characters, then you lose the whole point of their story, to begin with, and this story is too important for that. Especially right now. Especially when we're living Act 2. were not all Elphaba. Most of us are Glinda. And that's ok, so long as you use this story to learn from all of them and try to do better.

We can't lose them. Not right now.

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling into that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity - love makes you do some crazy things, and Glinda can’t afford that in this world.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll always come back again. That fact will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[lechrts]

Valentine. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Florist!reader

Summary: When a certain customer of yours asks for a special bouquet on Valentine’s Day.

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer/s: fluff!!!! cute little florist reader yas!!!!

Vera’s Voice! happy valentine’s day!!! lando fluff to make ur day or wtv Haaiii :3 gonna pub some more later too!!!

The morning sun spilled through the large front window of your flower shop, casting a golden glow over the display of fresh blooms.

The scent of roses, lilacs, and eucalyptus lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of coffee from the cup beside your register.

It’s Valentine’s Day—the busiest day of the year, but it felt like an oddly slow morning.

You barely had a second to breathe before the familiar chime of the bell above the door rang, signaling a customer.

You glance up from tying a delicate satin ribbon around a bouquet and immediately recognize the messy brown curls and striking eyes of a familiar and reoccurring customer.

A soft smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it.

“Oh, Lando,” You greet, brushing a few stray flower petals from your apron. “Good morning!” Your soft grin lingered as he approached the counter.

Lando grinned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He looks comfortable, as if he belonged here, despite the slight contrast of his casual attire against the elegant floral arrangements around him.

“Morning,” His voice warm, like a gentle breeze on a spring morning.

You arch a playful brow. “And what brings you in today? Looking for something special? For… someone special?” You tilt your head teasingly, though you were begging deep down inside it was just a joke.

Lando chuckles, leaning against the wooden counter like he has all the time in the world. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You rolled your eyes, though the soft flutter in your chest betrayed you.

For months now, Lando has come into the shop nearly every Sunday when he’s in town. It was weird to see him on a Friday, but it was Valentine’s day after all.

At first, you assumed he just really liked fresh flowers, which was endearing in itself. But after a while, you joked that he must have had a house full of vases by now, and he’d just grinned and shrugged, offering no real explanation.

But little did you know.

Still, you liked his presence. The way he always struck up easy conversations, made you laugh on even the most exhausting days.

It was harmless, really. Except, lately, you’d caught yourself hoping his visits meant something more.

And that was dangerous.

“Alright, then,” You say, crossing your arms. "What can I get for you today? Any of your usual arrangements?

He shakes his head, pretending to think. "Actually, I’ve got a different request today."

"Oh?" You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Do tell!”

Lando leaned in slightly, as if he’s about to share some big secret. "If you were a girl receiving a bouquet of your choice… what flowers would you like?"

Your hands stilled. “Me?”

Lando nodded, watching you too closely. “Yeah. What would you pick?”

You frown in thought, reaching out to gently touch a bundle of tulips on a display beside you. “Something soft but meaningful.” You pause, picturing it. “Tulips, for grace and renewal.”

“Maybe some dahlias, because they’re bold yet elegant. Some chamomile for a touch of whimsy, and sprigs of lavender for a calming, fragrant finish.” Your fingers skim the edge of a nearby vase as you visualize it. “Nothing too extravagant—just something that feels gentle and full of warmth.”

Lando hums, nodding as if committing every detail to memory. “That does sound perfect. Think you could put that together for me?”

You hesitate, curiosity bubbling up. He’s never been this specific before. You wonder who the bouquet is for—but you don’t ask.

“Of course.” You smile softly.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all. He’s probably seeing someone. You felt a slight pang in your chest at the thought, a quiet, unwelcome squeeze of disappointment.

But you push it down, telling yourself it’s silly to care. He’s just a regular, and you’re just the florist.

Still, the idea lingers as you get to work, selecting each bloom with delicate nature.

Lando stayed close, watching your hands move with quiet fascination.

“You ever get flowers?” He asked, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, surprised by the question. “Me?”

He smirks. “Yeah, you.”

You shrug. “Not really.” A pause. “I guess when you’re around flowers all day, people assume you don’t need any.”

Lando hums, thoughtful. “That’s a shame. Everyone should get flowers sometimes.”

You smile softly but don’t respond, focusing on tying the bouquet together. Once it’s wrapped in parchment paper and secured with a ribbon, you step back, admiring the finished product.

“There you go,” You say, offering it to him. “Hope she loves them.”

Lando pulled out his wallet, paid, and then—to your utter confusion—immediately held the bouquet back out to you.

You blink. “Wha…?”

Lando pulled a small envelope out his pocket, handing it to you. He offered a hesitant but kind smile as you carefully took the bouquet back, along with the neatly sealed card.

Unfolding the contents inside, your eyes softened at the words as you read them.

In neat but slightly rushed handwriting, nine simple words stared back at you:

Let me take you to dinner. Be my Valentine?

Your breath catches.

Slowly, you look up, your heart pounding.

Lando shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, but his grin remains. “So.. What do you say?”

You stare at him for a moment, warmth blooming in your chest like the very flowers in your hands.

“Well,” You murmur, brushing your fingers over the petals, “I do love these flowers.”

Lando’s grin lights up the room. “I would’ve hoped so.”

“Yeah, real smooth.” You flashed a smile, inhaling the scent of the flowers once more.

And now, you were no longer just the florist with the soft smile.

Tonight, you were his Valentine.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list

tags! @pedriache @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

[hisfavegirl]

Hey girl, I love your HOTD reactions sm! What about like how they would react if you did a VS or Skims collab for a Valentine’s day set or something??

HOTD Characters Reaction To Your Campaign With Skims

Aegon was in the middle of scrolling through his phone, lazily lounging on the couch when his screen suddenly froze.

The SKIMS Valentine’s Day campaign.

Your face. Your body. Draped in lingerie so sheer it might as well be a second skin. Red silk, lace, curves accentuated perfectly—a vision of absolute sin. The shot that made his blood boil the most?

You, on a plush pink bed, biting your lip, fingers tangled in your hair—wearing nothing but a dangerously tiny bra and lace garters. The caption?

“Indulge yourself this Valentine’s Day. ❤️ #SKIMSLove”

The likes and comments were flooding in, men thirsting over you in real-time:

“THIS is what I want for Valentine’s Day.”

“Bro, she’s actually unreal.”

“Forget flowers, I’m sending divorce papers to my wife.”

“I just know her man is LOSING HIS MIND.”

Yeah. He was.

Aegon shot up, phone clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His jaw? Tight. His eyes? Dark. His entire body radiated possessiveness, his breath coming out in ragged bursts.

His first instinct? Call you. Right. Now. But then he thought—No. No, you fucking knew what you were doing. Posting this without telling him? Letting the entire world drool over you while he was just supposed to sit there and take it?

His next move? Damage control.

The internet absolutely lost its mind.

The moment Aegon dropped the video on his Instagram story, everything went insane.

The clip was short but devastating—you, bent over his bed, skin flushed, your bare back marked with his claim, trembling, moaning his name like a prayer, wrecked beyond comprehension. Aegon’s hand came into view, gripping your waist, his voice low and smug, whispering,

“Didn’t think I’d let that SKIMS stunt slide, did you, baby?”

The internet? BROKE.

Twitter/X Exploded:

“THIS MAN JUST ENDED THE ENTIRE MALE POPULATION WTF”

“Aegon Targaryen is the pettiest, most unhinged man alive and I respect it.”

“She posted SKIMS, he posted HER. This is WAR.”

“HOW is this allowed on Instagram? WHO reported it? WHOEVER YOU ARE, WE FIGHT AT DAWN.”

“Bro turned Valentine’s Day into a public execution.”

Instagram Comments on His Last Post:

“Sir. Some of us are SINGLE.”

“That’s it. I’m deleting my boyfriend.”

“Y’all seeing her LEGS SHAKING??? Nah this man is different.”

“I’m not okay. I will never be okay.”

“We were thirsting over her SKIMS shoot and Aegon said ‘bet.’”

TikTok Reactions:

POV edits of Aegon with captions like “When your man reminds the world who you belong to 😵‍💫🔥”

Audio clips of “I want what they have” over slow-mo replays of the video

Girls fake crying into the camera with captions like “Me realizing I’ll never be this girl”

Reddit Threads:

r/popculturegossip

“Aegon Targaryen just HARD LAUNCHED his revenge arc, and I’ve never felt so single.”

“This is the most unhinged flex of all time, and I need therapy.”

“So we all agree he’s the pettiest man alive, right?"

Instagram eventually took the video down—but it was too late. Screenshots, edits, and memes had already flooded the internet. Aegon had won the war, and the internet was never recovering.

The second Aemond saw the photos—you, draped in delicate lace, barely covered, staring into the camera with that knowing, sultry look—his jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

His phone nearly cracked in his grip as he scrolled through the thousands of comments under the post:

“Mother is mothering.”

“Aemond is officially the luckiest man alive.”

“The male species has been defeated. We are but peasants.”

“You’re telling me this woman goes home to HIM??? Jail.”

A deep, dark chuckle left his lips—but it wasn’t amusement. It was pure, seething possession.

His eye twitched, his breathing heavy as he saw the likes flooding in—from men. From verified blue checks. From random nobodies who had no business looking at you like that.

“The fuck is this, darling?” His voice was deadly calm, but the way he stalked toward you, phone in hand, told you everything.

“A campaign.” You blinked at him, innocent. “For SKIMS.”

“A fucking campaign?” He scoffed, throwing his phone onto the table as he cornered you. “So that’s what we’re doing now? Letting every goddamn man on the internet see what’s MINE?”

He was pissed. Jealous. Possessive. His fingers traced up your arm, then gripped your jaw, tilting your face up to him.

“Tell me, did you enjoy it?” His voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. “Did you like having them all drooling over you?”

His eye burned into you, jaw tight as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“Because now you’re going to remind them who you belong to.”

Aemond never lost control—but tonight? You were in for it.

The second Aemond posted the video, the internet broke.

It wasn’t just a thirst trap. It was a declaration. A warning. A final nail in the coffin for every man who thought they had a chance.

The clip was grainy, filmed through the dim light of his bedroom—his signature aesthetic. You were wrecked on his bed, wrists bound, body shaking, barely able to form a word except his name—moaned like a prayer, like a confession.

And Aemond? His signature smirk could be heard in his voice when he murmured:

“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to.”

Instagram Exploded :

“IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED???”

“So we’re just posting full-course MEALS now????”

“The way she’s literally trembling… yeah, I lost.”

"‘This is what happens when you forget who you belong to’ BRO CAN WE BREATHE???”

“The SKIMS campaign was for US. This? This was for HIM.”

“Aemond said, ‘You wanna model lingerie? Fine. Now model MY BED.’”

“The way she’s just a mess for him… If my man doesn’t love me like this, I DON’T WANT IT.”

Within minutes, Twitter (X) was on fire.

#AemondTargaryen

#SheBelongsToHim

#TiedUpForAemond

#OneEyedKing

Trending. Everywhere.

TWITTER/X MELTDOWN:

“I HAVEN’T EVEN RECOVERED FROM HER SKIMS SHOOT AND NOW THIS????”

“This man really said ‘revenge’ and ENDED US ALL.”

"Aemond Targaryen is a MENACE. I hate him. (I’m lying. I love him.)”

“THIS IS THE MOST POSSESSIVE, FILTHY, UNHINGED, HOTTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN. HELP ME.”

TIKTOK COMMENTS UNDER THE VIDEO:

Pinned by Aemond Targaryen : “Revenge is sweet, baby."

“My FBI agent just logged out. This is TOO MUCH.”

“This is NOT just a revenge post—THIS IS A WARNING.”

“Imagine posting a SKIMS campaign and your man drops THIS as a response… She WINS.”

“Her Skims photos were for US. Aemond’s revenge was for HIM.”

Meanwhile, Aemond? He just sat back, smirking at his phone as he watched the world come to terms with what they already knew.

You were his. And there was no escaping it.

Jace never had an issue with you modeling. Until now.

He was in a meeting when his phone started blowing up. At first, he ignored it—until Aegon sent him a link with nothing but:

“LMAO. You good, bro?”

Frowning, Jace clicked.

And there you were.

Draped in red lace. Skin glowing. Eyes hooded. Posing in a way that had every man on the planet foaming at the mouth. The SKIMS Valentine’s campaign had dropped, and you were the star.

The moment he saw the lingerie—saw the way your body looked in it—his jaw locked so tight it could crack.

And then he saw the comments.

“I just KNOW Jace is punching the air rn.”

“She’s too fine. If he won’t wife her, I WILL.”

“Jace, be so serious… How does it feel to lose?”

“Why does she look single in these photos???”

“Jace, if you fumble, I’m RIGHT HERE.”

The moment the meeting ended, Jace stormed out of the office, grabbing his phone and calling you immediately.

You picked up, cheerful—which only pissed him off more.

“You having fun?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You giggled. “Jacey, baby, did you see the campaign?”

“Oh, I saw it. So did the rest of the fucking world.”

You hummed, unbothered. “And?”

Jace ran a hand through his curls, breathing hard. He could see the photos in his mind—how every man was lusting over you.

His girl.

And the worst part?

You knew exactly what you were doing.

“And,” he growled, “you better be home when I get there.”

“Why?” you teased, voice all sweetness and sin.

Jace let out a dark chuckle. “So I can remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

One minute, people were thirsting over your SKIMS campaign, and the next?

Jace dropped a bomb.

A video.

A very explicit video.

You, bare, ruined, trembling on his bed. Voice completely gone. Every breath ragged. Body shaking violently. Jace’s hand on your ass, smacking every time you tried to move away. His voice? Dark. Dangerous. Possessive.

“Was it worth it, baby? Hm? Letting the whole world see you like that? Look at you now—can’t even talk, can’t even move. Next time you wanna tease me, remember who the fuck you belong to.”

And his caption? Head Shot.

“Since y’all were so thirsty for her SKIMS campaign, here’s what happened after. Enjoy.”

Instagram Comments :

“JACE, WTF IS THIS? I CAN’T BREATHE.”

“He saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘bet.’”

“NAH, THIS IS BIBLICAL. HER VOICE? GONE. BODY? FINISHED. JACE?? LAUGHING IN HER EAR?”

“This man took it PERSONAL LMFAO.”

“I ain’t never seen a man HUMBLED this fast 😭”

“THE WAY HE’S WHISPERING TO HER AND HIS HAND?? Y’ALL. I NEED HOLY WATER.”

“Her body shaking and his palm smacking down… Yeah. Yeah. That’s a man.”

“Jace saw the SKIMS campaign and said ‘MY GIRL. MINE.’”

“You just KNOW he was PISSED when he saw those lingerie pics 😭.”

“She went from SKIMS model to Jace’s favorite meal real fast.”

“THE WHOLE VIDEO IS JUST HIM RUINING HER LIFE AND HER LETTING HIM 😭.”

“I need everyone involved in this video ARRESTED.”

“Bro uploaded this like a warning. Like, ‘you thought you were single in those photos? Here’s your reminder.’”

“HE REALLY POSTED THIS AS REVENGE FOR SKIMS. THIS IS A POWER MOVE.”



TWITTER REACTIONS : Trending Topics:

#JaceVelaryon

#JusticeForHerVoice

#SKIMSRevenge

#IsSheAlive??

Comments :

“Jace is actually insane for posting this. HER BODY IS SHAKING. HER VOICE IS GONE. AND HE’S JUST THERE, WHISPERING AND LAUGHING??? HELLO???”

“You KNOW he was mad about SKIMS cause why is this video a whole RESPONSE??? 😭”

“If my man doesn’t ruin me like this after I piss him off, I don’t want him.”

“Jace: ‘You wanna do a lingerie campaign and let men thirst over you? Cool. But they’re gonna watch you break for ME.’”

“Jace really saw those SKIMS pics, picked up his phone, and said: ‘hold my beer.’”

“THAT MAN POSTED A WHOLE MOVIE. AMAZON PRIME COULD NEVER."

TIKTOK REACTIONS: Viral TikTok Caption

“POV: Jace Velaryon took his SKIMS revenge to another level and now we’re all screaming, crying, throwing up.”

Sound: Cardi B screaming “WHAT WAS THE REASON?!”

“Y’all, Jace didn’t just claim his girl. He PLANTED HIS FLAG.”

“Her legs shaking and him laughing about it…? Yeah. I need therapy.”

“Jace’s hand on her ass, the way she arched, the way he smacked down??? I HAVE NEVER KNOWN PEACE.”

FINAL VERDICT:

The internet is absolutely UNWELL. Jace won. You? Finished. The SKIMS campaign? Irrelevant.

The moment Daemon sees the SKIMS campaign, his entire demeanor shifts. He had been lounging in his office, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone—until your face, your body, wrapped in delicate lace, fills his screen. His jaw clenches, his grip on the phone tightening as he watches you pose effortlessly, seductive and stunning, every inch of you made to be worshipped.

And so were the thousands of comments under the post.

“She’s an angel AND a sin. How is that fair?”

“I need her. No, actually, I’ll die without her.”

“Whoever her man is, I hope he knows he lost her to the world today.”

Daemon lets out a dark chuckle, but there’s nothing amused about it. His blood is boiling, his possessiveness clawing at his insides. Lost you to the world? They had no idea who they were talking about.

With a sharp inhale, he slams his phone down on the desk and gets up, pacing the room. His mind races. He knows you love teasing him, knows you like pushing boundaries—but this? This was a direct challenge. A test. And Daemon Targaryen does not lose.

Grabbing his car keys, he heads straight for you. No calls. No texts. You knew what you had done. Now? Now, you’d deal with the consequences.

The internet exploded within minutes of Daemon’s post.

No caption. No explanation. Just you, completely wrecked—your expression dazed, mouth parted as soft whimpers left your lips. His hand cradled your face, slapping your cheek with a teasing, mocking rhythm. And though his other hand wasn’t in frame, the wetness sounds that filled the video left no room for imagination.

Twitter/X:

“WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH???”

“Daemon just said ‘she’s MINE’ without saying a single damn word.”

“This man saw the SKIMS shoot and said ‘bet’ 😭”

“HELP ME I CAN’T BREATHE WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SOUNDS???”

Instagram Comments:

“Okay but the way she looks at him?? That’s not just lust, that’s ruin.”

“He posted this just to remind everyone he owns her and honestly? It worked.”

“WHO ALLOWED THIS TO BE ON MY FEED??? I have work in the morning.”

“I feel like I just saw something I shouldn’t have… and yet I can’t stop watching.”

TikTok Reactions:

Edits of the SKIMS shoot transitioning to Daemon’s video with captions like:

“She teased him, and he answered.”

“SKIMS said ‘sexy’—Daemon said ‘MINE’.”

Compilation of reactions to the sound alone, with people throwing their phones across the room or covering their faces in shock.

Reddit Threads:

“Daemon Targaryen just changed the internet forever.”

“The SKIMS campaign was a declaration. Daemon’s video? A WAR CRIME.”

“How do we recover from this? WE DON’T.”

While some were losing their minds over the intensity, others were spiraling at the undeniable claim staked in that video. Daemon wanted the world to know—you were his, and no amount of cameras or campaigns would ever change that.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @ashblooddragons @callsignwidow

Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your dividers ❤️‍🩹

[premiumbitch]

VICTORIA SECRET ANGEL: ♡ ANGEL OPIUM: AN ADDICTION THEY CAN'T QUIT ♡ MANIFESTATION PACK ₊˚⊹♡

This is for my lovely mutual @cinnamoncilla ! basically this is a pack that includes things people might want to manifest about themselves! this is a victoria secrets themed pack ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ enjoy

♡ 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 ♡

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞 ✧ 𝑆𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡, 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑦—𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙.

They see you on the runway, in glossy campaigns, on the cover of magazines. You exist in a world just beyond their reach—floating, shimmering, untouchable. They want to know what it’s like to be close to you, to feel the heat of your glow. But you’re always a step ahead, always just out of grasp.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ✧ 𝐴𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑑.

Golden skin kissed by the sun, eyes that hold galaxies, a body sculpted by the gods. You’re too flawless to be real, too divine to be human. They watch in awe, wondering if you’re even made of the same stardust as them. They swear they’ve seen you before—in dreams, in paintings, in moments of déjà vu.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲—𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥 ✧ 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙, 𝑎 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑚.

You’re the kind of beautiful that stops time, the kind that makes people forget how to breathe. Heads turn when you walk into the room. They try to convince themselves you’re just another pretty face—but then you speak, and it’s game over.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 ✧ 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑡.

They say they’re immune, that they won’t fall like the rest. But then you laugh, a sound like champagne bubbles, and they realize they never stood a chance. You’re in their thoughts, their dreams, their every waking moment. No matter how hard they try, they can’t forget you.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 ✧ 𝑇𝑜𝑜 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒, 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑.

You move like silk, weightless and effortless, as if the world bends to your will. They watch you, transfixed, wondering how someone like you even exists. They tell themselves they’re different, that they’ll be the one to get close. But you already know how this story ends.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 ✧ 𝑎 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ.

You dance through life, laughing like it’s all a game. You don’t belong to anyone, not really. They try to capture you, to claim you—but you’re already gone, leaving only the scent of perfume and the memory of your lips.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✧ 𝐸𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒.

Some stare in admiration, some in envy. They want your confidence, your glow, the way you float through life as if nothing can touch you. Others just want to be near you, to claim a piece of your magic. But you don’t belong to anyone but yourself.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 ✧ 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡.

Your lips taste like temptation, like late nights and secrets whispered in the dark. They think they can hold onto you, that they can keep you for themselves. But you’re a mirage, a fleeting dream. And when they wake up, you’re already gone.

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 ✧ 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐, 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒.

They look at you and see something otherworldly. Skin kissed by candlelight, a gaze that lingers in their thoughts long after you’ve left. Every detail, from the way your hair falls in effortless waves to the soft glow of your complexion, is meticulously crafted—but they’ll never know the effort behind the illusion.

✧ 𝐀 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ✧ 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑘𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟, 𝑑𝑒𝑤𝑦 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛, 𝑎 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑠.

Your beauty is an enigma—soft yet striking, delicate but undeniable. You float through rooms with an effortless grace, leaving behind whispers and stolen glances. They wonder how someone can look like a dream and still be real.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞 ✧ 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒—𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔.

A laugh like champagne bubbles, but a presence that commands attention. You are refined, elegant, and dangerously mesmerizing. They think they have you figured out—until you turn your gaze on them, and suddenly, they don’t know who they are anymore.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 ✧ 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑛-𝑠𝑜𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑔𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒.

Your world is one of silk and lace, candlelight and stardust. Even in the simplest moments—sipping coffee, slipping on perfume, brushing your hair—you exist in a space untouched by the mundane. They watch, captivated, wondering what it would be like to step into your reality.

✧ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥—𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ✧ 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑.

You were never meant to be ordinary.

[sylusonychinus]

Day 4: Daytime Star (≧ヮ≦) 💕

Pairings: Zayne x Actress!Reader

warning: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

a/n: i bet yall know where i got the title from :3

Summary: WHAT IF zayne is with actress reader :3

Before They Got Together

Zayne and Reader first met during a chance encounter—maybe at a charity gala or an exclusive event where their worlds collided.

At first, Reader thought Zayne was a bit reserved, always carrying himself with a composed, professional demeanor.

Meanwhile, Zayne admired Reader’s confidence and presence, though he never let it show.

Their conversations were brief but meaningful—Zayne always had this way of making Reader feel truly heard.

Reader found excuses to visit the hospital where he worked, either for charity work or research for a medical role.

Slowly, their connection deepened—Reader would bring him coffee on late shifts, and Zayne would secretly watch their movies between breaks.

Despite the growing attraction, neither made a move. Zayne, ever the rational one, convinced himself that Reader's world was too different from his.

That changed when Reader got injured on set, and Zayne was the one who treated them—his worry cracked through his usual calm, revealing just how much he cared.

That moment of vulnerability was all it took for Reader to realize their feelings were mutual.

After that, Zayne asked them out in his own way—something straightforward yet sincere, like "I’d rather not wait for another accident to see you. Let’s have dinner instead."

While They Were Secretly Dating

The relationship started off private, both wanting to keep their professional lives separate from their personal happiness.

Zayne wasn’t one for grand romantic gestures in public, but behind closed doors, he was incredibly attentive—always making sure Reader ate properly, got enough rest, and took care of themselves.

Their dates were discreet: quiet rooftop dinners, late-night walks, or slow mornings in Zayne’s apartment, away from prying eyes.

Whenever Reader had a tough day on set, Zayne would send them messages like "Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll make sure you have something warm to eat later."

Likewise, Reader would leave little notes in his lab coat pocket—sometimes motivational, sometimes teasing, just to make him smile.

Fans started speculating about Zayne after they noticed Reader wearing his signature-colored scarf in an interview.

Reader would tease him about being a “celebrity boyfriend in hiding,” to which he’d smirk and say, "I don’t mind staying in the shadows, as long as you know I’m there."

When They Finally Went Public

The reveal wasn’t dramatic—just a simple, candid photo of them together, posted without any captions.

The internet went into chaos, with fans both celebrating and freaking out over the unexpected pairing.

Some people doubted Zayne’s ability to handle a relationship with an A-list actress, but those close to him knew he was more than capable.

Despite the sudden spotlight, Zayne remained unbothered—he had faced far greater pressures in the medical field than public scrutiny.

Reader was the one slightly overwhelmed by the attention, but Zayne always reassured them: "Let them talk. It doesn’t change what we have."

Eventually, they started attending events together, with Zayne looking effortlessly handsome in suits, making fans swoon.

Interviews would occasionally bring up their relationship, and while Reader would gush a little, Zayne would keep his answers simple yet meaningful. ("She’s brilliant. I’m proud of her.")

Whenever Reader won an award, Zayne would be in the audience, clapping with the smallest yet fondest smile.

Their relationship became known as a perfect balance—Reader, the dazzling star, and Zayne, the steady force grounding them.

Even after all the attention, their love remained the same—quiet, steadfast, and deeply unwavering.

Cute and Memorable Moments

💉 “Doctor Mode Activated”

Reader gets sick after an exhausting shoot in harsh weather conditions, and Zayne immediately switches into doctor mode.

He checks their temperature, makes them drink warm tea, and even insists on monitoring their vitals.

“I deal with patients every day, but I’d rather not see you as one,” he murmurs, pressing a cool cloth to their forehead.

Reader tries to protest, but Zayne gives them a pointed look, shutting down any argument.

Later, they wake up to find him dozing off beside them, his head resting on the bed, one hand still holding theirs.

🎬 On-Set Surprise

Zayne isn’t one for grand public displays, but one day, he unexpectedly visits Reader on set.

Everyone is surprised, as he’s not one to leave the hospital for just anything.

Reader is in the middle of an emotional scene, but when they spot Zayne watching from behind the cameras, their heart flutters.

After the shoot, he hands them a small box of their favorite pastries and says, “I figured you’d be too focused to eat.”

The director jokes, “I think we found our next leading man.” Zayne just smirks and shakes his head, replying, “I think I’ll stick to fixing real hearts.”

📸 Red Carpet + Protective Zayne

Their first big event as a couple has fans screaming because Zayne looks effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit, standing beside Reader.

He’s naturally reserved, but when the cameras get too close, or if an interviewer gets too pushy, Zayne subtly moves closer to Reader.

A video goes viral of him gently guiding them away from the crowd, his hand resting protectively on their lower back.

When asked how he feels about being the center of attention, he simply replies, “She’s the star. I’m just here to support her.”

❤️ Arguments + Sweet Apologies

Reader and Zayne don’t argue often, but when they do, it’s usually because Zayne overworks himself and doesn’t let Reader take care of him.

“You take care of everyone but yourself!” Reader huffs after catching him skipping meals.

Zayne is quiet for a moment before finally saying, “I’m used to it. But… I suppose I should listen when the person I love is the one telling me to rest.”

Later that night, he leaves a note on the bedside table: “You win this time. I promise to take better care of myself—for you.”

💬 Fans’ Favorite Moments

Live Q&A moment: A fan asks, “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

Reader grins and says, “Me, obviously.”

Zayne smirks and corrects, “Actually, I said it first. You just didn’t hear me.”

Reader’s eyes widen, and fans go wild in the comments.

Candid video leak: A behind-the-scenes clip of them at a café goes viral—Reader is laughing while Zayne, ever the composed one, just watches them with the softest expression.

Fans caption it: “He looks at them like they’re his entire world.”

the comments arent any better :3

"HEY GOD ITS ME AGAIN"

"WHEN WILL IT BE ME!!!!"

Zayne may be a doctor with a logical, calm demeanor, but when it comes to Reader, he’s got a quiet but deeply devoted love.

[cyberesc]

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME.

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Prohero!Reader (one sided)

synopsis: Izuku was your first love, your bestfriend, your whole world—so why does it feel like the universe is mocking you as you watch him kiss his bride?

˖⁺‧₊˚ warnings: heavy angst, unrequited love, hurt/comfort-ish, izuocha, one sided bkdk, open ending (?)

note: //this song// came on and I had to write this down, sorry for the angst lately but hopefully I'll put out something fluffy for Valentine's :p

I’m thinking of making this as a prequel to a future Bakugo series🤭

Golden light spilled through the chapel, painting the marble floors in a soft glow. The air was heavy with love, joy, and the scent of fresh flowers—but to you, it was suffocating.

You stood near the podium, your hands clasped so tightly they ached. Katsuki’s presence behind you was a steady weight, radiating heat, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Your eyes were fixed on the couple standing before the officiant.

Izuku looked devastatingly handsome in his tailored suit and his green curls slicked back. He looked happy. Ochaco, just as stunning, gazed at him with so much love it hurt to watch. He mirrored her stare, looking at her like she had hung the stars in his sky. It made your stomach twist into knots.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as they exchanged vows, their words of devotion echoing in your head.

The audience sniffled and wiped away tears at the heartfelt vows exchanged between the bride and groom. You, too, felt tears pricking your waterline, but for a vastly different reason. The words they spoke were sweet, intimate, and filled with promises of a shared future.

The love of your life was pledging himself to another.

You were happy for them. You had to be. They were your best friends, after all. But as Izuku leaned down to kiss his bride, sealing their union, a thought clawed its way to the surface of your mind.

That should’ve been me.

The applause was thunderous, but you heard nothing. Your body was on autopilot as everyone filtered out of the chapel, trailing after the newlyweds. You stayed behind, staring at the altar with unfocused eyes.

A heavy silence settled between you and Bakugo. He was still there, standing behind you. When the officiant gave you both a questioning look at your lingering presence, Katsuki shrugged off his blazer and draped it over your shoulders. His hand settled on the small of your back, fingers tapping along the curve of your spine, a silent question.

You okay?

You swallowed thickly before nodding, barely glancing at him. Without another word, he guided you toward the reception hall, staying close, shielding you from prying eyes of stragglers in the hallway.

Dinner went by in a blur. Izuku and Ochaco danced their first dance as husband and wife. You sat at the front with a few people from your shared friend group—Katsuki, Todoroki, Iida, and Tsuyu. The conversation buzzed around you, but you barely engaged. Your hands trembled under the table, hidden in your lap, and no amount of water could soothe the dryness in your throat.

It was pathetic, really. You had known Izuku since childhood, loved him since before you even understood what love was. You remembered the handmade ring he had given you when you were kids, the promise you both made to marry each other one day. It had been a child’s promise, something silly and sweet, you doubt he remembered it anyways. And yet, you still had that ring, tucked away in a jewelry box, a relic of a past that never came to be.

You remembered the first time he ever mentioned Ochaco to you, the way his eyes lit up. You had smiled, laughed, encouraged him, even as your heart broke. From the moment they started dating to this very day, you had watched it all unfold, playing the role of the best friend, never letting on how deeply it hurt.

And now, here you were, watching him dance with his wife.

You barely registered when Izuku came to you, extending a hand. You hesitated, but the eyes of the room were on you. So you stood, took his hand, and let him lead you to the dance floor.

It felt like the universe was mocking you as the soft melody of a love song played through the speakers.

Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you…’

You forced a smile as you slipped your hand in his. His grip was warm, a familiar comfort, scarred palms you'd held a thousand times before, now joined by the cold press of his wedding ring against your skin. He looked at you with those earnest green eyes.

Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me...’

“I’m really happy you could be here,” Izuku said softly, his green eyes warm as they met yours.

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He smiled, unaware of the way your heart cracked. “You know, Ochaco was nervous about today. She didn’t think she’d ever meet someone who understood me the way you do.”

Say 'nighty-night' and kiss me...’

Your fingers tightened slightly around his. “She makes you happy.”

“She does.” His voice was so full of love it nearly shattered you. “She’s everything I could've asked for. Kind, strong... she understands me in ways I didn't even know I needed."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a smile. “I’m happy for you, Izuku.”

And you were. That was the worst part. You were genuinely happy for him, despite the ache in your chest.

Izuku’s smile softened, warm and full of gratitude. “You’ve always been there when I needed you. I… I don't think I'd be the person I am without you.”

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me...’

The song drifted on, words of longing and love filling the space between you. You wanted to scream, to tell him everything, but you wouldn’t. This was his day, and you refused to taint it with your own sorrow.

When the song ended, and so did your moment, you pulled away before the tears could betray you, murmured a soft congratulations, and returned to your seat.

You needed a drink.

Shinsou stayed silent as you approached the bar, busying himself with cleaning the counter.

He huffed a laugh at the way you slumped onto one of the barstools, craving the sharp burn of alcohol.

Shinsou poured your glass generously, his violet eyes unreadable. “Rough night?”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “You could say that.”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, looking behind you at the newlyweds. “I figured.”

You stared at the glass, at the way the light reflected off the liquid. If the amount of vodka he served you was anything to go by, he knew.

You downed it in one go, savoring the burn, and he refilled your glass without a word.

Hours passed, the bride and groom were sent off with cheers and well wishes. You lingered behind, cleaning up to stay busy, not wanting to return to the crushing silence of your apartment. Katsuki stayed too, silent as he helped stack chairs and clear tables.

As the last of the decorations were taken down, the two of you ended up outside in the dimly lit garden. Fairy lights hung from the trellises, casting a golden glow. You sat on a wooden bench, staring out at the darkened pier.

“It’s a shame,” you murmured. “If my heart wasn’t broken, I’d be able to appreciate how beautiful this is.”

Katsuki huffed a laugh but didn’t argue. He sat beside you, staring off into the pier.

The gentle lapping of the water filled the silence.

“It fucking sucks, huh?” Katsuki finally muttered.

You let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence passed before he spoke again. “I thought you had a chance.”

You glanced at him. His gaze was fixed ahead, but he wore a tired expression on his face.

“I thought you had a chance,” he repeated, quieter this time. “You’re… you. I figured, if anyone…” He trailed off, exhaling sharply. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

You knew what he meant. If anyone had a chance, it should have been you. You were his childhood best friend. You had history. It should have been you. But it wasn’t.

And you weren’t the only one who had loved Izuku from afar.

You looked at Katsuki. “Guess we’re in the same boat.”

He scoffed. “Yeah. Sinking.”

For the first time that night, you smiled, it was bitter and small but it was something.

“At least you had a shot,” he muttered, a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. “I never even had that.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy with shared pain.

You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. The ache in your chest was still there, but at least you weren’t alone in it.

“We’ll figure it out.” you whispered.

You were just two broken hearts, clinging to each other, drowning in unspoken grief.

But maybe you could pull each other back to the surface.

While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me...’

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[justleaveacommentfest]

Not an ask, but a story about leaving comments -- not long ago, I left a comment on a fic from almost 10 years ago where the author, in their end notes, discussed how proud they were to have finished this fic (it was an incredible fic that was over 100,000 words long because they're a god and I would also just be shaky in the knees if I accomplished something so long and profound); and they also talked in their author's note how strange it was to be the ages of 22-24 when they were writing this fic and how things weren't always easy, and that they hoped the future was bright for them.

I commented about my life, right now, how I came to find their fic a decade years later from when they finished (a little sheepishly, it feels weird to talk about yourself, but it felt important somehow) -- anyways, I also talked about how reading their author's note reminded me very much of how I felt right now, and how different the world is now from 2015, and how this fic made me feel all kinds of nostalgic and good and hopeful about growing older, and how my god they were this good at 22 and I hope they're still writing -- and even if not, I hope all these years later they really are in a better place.

They replied. They replied! I was so delighted! They are indeed in their thirties! and they are indeed still writing! Things haven't gone as expected, but they've got a healthier dose of perspective on life and how to cope with the hard times now. And it was just so heartwarming to hear and learn about them. And to know that they're still around!

Just seeing that, seeing these people who write about hard times nine years ago, and leaving a comment and getting a reply, it just brings so much hope. Because you never know! You never know if someone's still going to be here, and so when they are it's kind of a-- not a miracle, but it just feels like I'm suddenly so very aware of my existence in the world and theirs too and it just -- it MATTERS. And ao3 and fanfiction in general is so unique to most media where you stare at a television or read a book, you can engage with the creator of that thing you're reading RIGHT THEN AND THERE. And you may not get a reply, or you might get this touching response that lets you feel like you're less alone in the world. It's worth the chance, right? That's what building community and stuff is all about! You can make so many friends this way!

And even if they never reply, don't you want them to know how important their story was to you? And it doesn't matter if the story was finished a decade ago or just posted yesterday, there's still a person that's there that gets to see how their art made an impact on the world. I've made a couple of friends doing this -- and even if I'm not making a friend, I hope I make someone's day a little brighter. God knows I'm always delighted whenever someone comments on my fics.

I admit I'm not perfect -- I don't always comment on fics that I read. I'm trying to be better, I've got a list of fics that I definitely should have written a comment on that I've been going through and writing out how I feel about their writing because damn people are just so talented. This wasn't for just leave a comment fest, I admit, but I do love to see your blog and your drive because it is such an important thing for writers.

I didn't know you were doing a valentines day thing, but what a great idea! I wanted to share my experience, hopefully inspire some other people to go out and comment, and now I'm going to go check another fic off my list of ones that I'd like to comment on. Better late than never!

Have a great day! and Happy Valentine's Day Just Leave a Comment Mini Fest!

I AM HOOTING AND HOLLERING I AM PLAYING THE XYLOPHONE ON MY RIB CAGE WHAT A STORY!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION TO HAVE MADE THROUGH COMMENTS!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE HAD!!

ANON THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS HAS MADE THIS SKELETON'S DAY

[theemissuniverse]

How on EARTH did I not find your page until now? Your writing is godsent I swear. Thank you for your service and I apologize if I spam you with likes. 🙏🏻

-Ghost <3

“GIRL DANGER” HENRY HART X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You refuse to let Henry go on a dangerous mission alone but Henry refuses for you to come with him.

CONTENT : Henry being protective, very fast read. I did not proof read

A/N : thank you so much! I appreciate it

MASTERLIST

Being the best friend of Kid Danger was cool and everything until Kid Danger had to go on missions where it could mean life or death.

Henry was nineteen now which meant he took more riskier missions than he used to. It pissed you off because honestly, you didn’t feel like he needed to save the world much less the shitty town the two of you lived in.

Captain Man was kidnapped by a new supervillain that arrived in town so it was up to Henry to get him.

You thought Henry was being impulsive. There was no thought out plan. Henry was just going to march in the villains lair and take Ray back. He was already prepared in his Kid Danger disguise.

The two of you were in the man cave along with Charlotte and Jasper. The two of them were watching the two of you just argue.

“You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”

You scoffed at Henry’s nonchalant response. “Fine? You don’t even have a plan! What if it’s a trap? Then what?”

“Then I’ll get out of the trap.” Henry said as if it was obvious.

You gave him a look. “Really?”

Henry nodded to confirm. “Uh yeah? In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got hyper mobility so I’ll be-“ in a swift motion, he felt your palm slap him across his face. Charlotte and Jasper had wide eyes while Henry felt his cheek. “Um ow!”

“Your reflexes aren’t that fast obviously.”

“Well not really expecting to get slapped from my best friend.”

You crossed your arms, eyeing him down. “Okay. Then I’ll go with you.”

Henry couldn’t help but let out a laugh at how ridiculous the idea was. He shook his head, waving his hand in the air. “Oh no. You’re not coming with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because last time I checked…I was the one who had superpowers and knew how to fight while the only fight I’ve seen you had is with opening a pickle jar.”

You bit your lip to hide your annoyance before turning around to Charlotte and Jasper. “Help me out!”

Charlotte and Jasper shook their heads in a hurry. “No. We can’t…we have to..check on the tree outside.” Charlotte made up.

The two of them started to head towards the elevator. “Yeah. The tree.” Jasper agreed.

The hurried to click the button while you just glared at them and they rushed to get on before disappearing.

You rolled your eyes before turning to look at Henry. “When you first started this job you were thirteen and the most disturbing fight I saw you have was trying to get a girl’s number.”

Henry placed his bubble gum back in his pocket. Then responded. “I don’t care. This is different. I don’t have time to worry about you.”

He started to walk to the tubes but you grabbed his arm. You turned him around so he was facing you. “I got five years of karate under my belt. I got this.”

“I said no.”

“So you can risk your life but I can’t?”

“Yes. I’m the superhero.”

You looked at Henry then to the bubble gum in his pocket. That’s when you realized you were about to do something stupid. You kicked Henry to the ground and grabbed the gum out of his pocket before heading to the tube.

“Wait! Don’t!”

“Up the tube!”

It was too late. You were already up and gone. Henry let out a yell of frustration before standing up. Here you were trying to protect him by being impulsive. Maybe he should’ve saw the irony of the situation but he didn’t care. He didn’t want you to get hurt.

His job was not only to protect the town but to protect you and he couldn’t do that when you made rash decisions like this.

He immediately got on his cellphone and tried to track your location. That’s when he saw the notification that you stopped sharing your location with him. “I’m going to kill her.” He mumbled. He started to call Charlotte. She picked up within seconds. “Is the married couple done arguing?” She teased.

Henry ignored her comment before responding. “She took off to get Ray and stopped sharing her location with me. I need you to track it.”

“How did you let her get past you?”

“Just shut up and track her!”

It took a couple of seconds before he got an answer from Charlotte. “She is heading to Doctor Yetti’s warehouse.”

“Alright. Keep an eye on us.”

“Got it. Also Henry? Please bring back your girlfriend in one piece.”

It was evident to everyone but you that Henry had feelings for you. Charlotte was even shocked you didn’t figure it out considering how smart you were.

That’s why Henry was so mad you went off. He couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Just the thought of you getting hurt or worse brought in severe anxiety.

Yeah, you weren’t some damsel in distress but that didn’t mean you could or should do the things he did. He was the superhero. You were his bestfriend. That was it. But the more Henry got deep in the lifestyle, the more you tried to include yourself. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Henry was in love with you. The love suffocated his heart. He had no choice to be lost under your spell. But were you lost in his?

You had to do this. Not only because you didn’t want Henry doing this alone but you wanted to prove to Henry you were more than the best friend on the sidelines.

The truth was, you were in love with your best friend and impressing him was important to you but it’s like Henry didn’t care for any of it. He didn’t believe in you and it pissed him off.

You were going to prove to everyone that you were more than they thought.

On the rooftop of the warehouse, you popped the bubble gum and like magic, you were dressed in Henry’s disguise. You looked at your reflection in the metal door to the rooftop. You looked like Kid Danger 2.0. It spooked you a little.

Taking in a deep breath, you opened the door to Doctor Yetti’s warehouse where you saw Ray chained to a spinning wheel. Doctor Yetti was spinning the wheel, making Ray go round in a circle.

You didn’t see any of his crew around so you went over the railing and dropped on the ground.

Doctor Yetti stopped spinning the wheel. “Oh I’m gonna puke.” Ray yelled when the wheel finally stopped.

Doctor Yetti turned over to you. Then looked at you with a confused look. “Girl Danger?”

You were about to comment about that but you tilted your head when you realized how small he was. “You’re like 5’3.”

He looked at you, offended. “So?”

“Your name is Doctor Yetti?”

“Yeah…”

“But Yetti’s are tall?”

“I’m not following.”

Ray decided to speak. “She’s calling you short, bruh.” He took a closer look at you and his eyes widen when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

You placed your hands on your hips. “Rescuing you.”

It was at that moment, Ray let out a laugh as if what you said was the funniest thing in the entire world. You gave him a death glare. “You? Rescue me? Seriously where’s Kid Danger?”

The amount of anger ran through you like water under a bridge. Nothing pissed you off more than someone thinking you couldn’t do something.

Doctor Yetti spun Ray again on the wheel which made him start screaming. He then took some steps to you. “Well, you’re too late Girl Danger. I’ve already begun extracting Captain Man’s invincibility. Soon, I will be invincible.”

“Invincible and short?” You mocked. Doctor Yetti faked laughed at your joke before snapping his fingers. When he did, a couple men in black ninja outfits came from the door then surrounded you.

It was supposed to intimidate you but you gave him an unconvinced look. “Ninja costumes? Seriously?”

“Can you seriously start saving me?!” Ray asked while be spun repeatedly on the wheel.

Henry was on the rooftop, still not believing you were going this far to prove yourself. He swore after this was done he was going to give you a piece of his mind.

He went through the door and then stood on the railing above the warehouse. That’s where he saw you, fighting multiple ‘ninjas’ at once.

His first instinct was to go down and help you. The second was to watch you in action. You were good. Not that he didn’t believe you were good but being good in fighting classes and being good in an actual fight were both two different things.

Then he saw Ray spinning on a wheel and he couldn’t help but snicker to himself. He looked back over to you and there were only two guys left to go but one of them had you pinned down to the floor.

That’s when Henry hoped over the railing and jumped on the man’s back.

You should’ve known Henry was going to get to you at some point. Henry pinched a nerve on the man’s neck to make him go to sleep then hopped off him. The man fell down. He saw the other man try to go after you on the ground and Henry kicked him in the stomach. Then twisted his arm before elbowing him, knocking him out.

Henry walked over to you. “I had it.” You said.

“Sure you did.” He helped you up to your feet but when he did, you immediately yelled in pain. Henry held you, making sure you placed all your weight on him. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I twisted my ankle.” You pointed your finger at him. “Don’t you say anything.”

He sighed and helped you sit in a chair nearby before looking at Doctor Yetti. He saw Doctor Yetti get in a fighting stance and gave him a look. “Dude, you’re like 5’1.”

“I’m 5’3! It doesn’t matter. Soon I will be invincible and you won’t be able to stop me from draining your powers too-“

Henry reached him his pocket for his laser. Then pointed it at Doctor Yetti. He pressed the button and Doctor Yett immediately fell to the ground.

You tilted your head at how fast the action was. “I should’ve took that from your pocket.”

Henry went over to the wheel while Ray was screaming. He pressed the lever down making the wheel stop.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Henry started to detach the metal chains on him and helped him down. Aftet Ray found his stance, he hit Henry in the chest. “Took you long enough!”

Henry hit him back. “Shut up.”

He walked over to you and you shook your head. “I’m fine!”

Henry wasn’t hearing it. He scooped you up, bridal style and turned to look at Ray. “Clean this up. I’m going to take her back.”

Ray was still gagging in the back. “Sure! Have the spinning man take care of this!”

Both back in normal clothes, Henry had you on the couch in the man cave as he wrapped up ur ankle with a bandage.

The room was silent. It was like you and Henry were having a contest of who can go the longest without speaking.

You knew he was mad and you could understand to a certain extent but you didn’t care. You just wanted to prove yourself and now all you proved was that you needed Henry. Just liked he hoped.

When Henry finished wrapping the bandage, he looked up at you. “Why am I getting the silent treatment from you? You were the one that stole my gum and went into crime fighting.”

“You know what? You’re so lucky I can’t walk away from you right now.”

“Why? Why did you do it? What are you trying to prove?” You bit the inside of your cheek, not looking at him. Henry understood a little of what you were thinking. “Why do you feel the need to impress me?”

You decided to change the subject. “Why do you feel the need to protect me? I don’t need your protection.”

“Because you do things like use my costume to fight bad guys.”

You got annoyed. So, annoyed that you stood up and tried to walk away but Henry grabbed your waist to hold you in place. “Let me go!”

“Stop it.”

“Just leave me alone. Why are you being like this?”

After that sentence, you felt lips pressed against yours. You stood in place, completely still with eyes wide. Henry Hart was actually kissing you.

It all made sense. The entire day he had been nothing but protective and you were trying to understand why. This was why.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back. You didn’t think Henry and you would ever end up doing this but here you were, two best friends kissing.

The two of you were so wrapped in the moment that you guys didn’t even notice Charlotte and Jasper walk in. “Finally!”

The two of you broke apart to look at them. “It only took you guys seven years.” Charlotte continued.

“Seven years is a long time.” Jasper pointed out to Charlotte.

“Sarcasm!” She yelled at him making the two of you laugh. She looked back over. “How was fighting crime, Girl Danger?”

“It was cool but…” You held onto Henry. “I think I’ll leave all that to Kid Danger.”

“Cool. Everyone good?” Henry asked and they nodded. “Now get out.”

Charlotte and Jasper rolled their eyes before leaving. “I hate couples…” Jasper mumbled.

Henry turned back to you. “Does this mean you’ll be with me?”

“Ehhh…give me seven more years to think on it.” You said playfully and he smiled. Then kissed you again.