#save (or doom) Your Boyfriend!!

[canisalbus]

I've been following you for years, and I love your art. Seeing you repost your older art pieces reminded me how much I loved the angry, bitter, miserable Machete art and how it resonated with me... but a part of me is also so happy to see the current art of him being happy. Cute art of him as a unicorn, or chilling in a bathtub with Vasco. Like, we're all growing and healing :')

[itsmyturnonthegender]

Guys ffs please reblog polls

Did you have fun giving your opinion?

Do you want to drown your followers in vanilla extract?

Are you committed to the bit?

Do you want to save Your Boyfriend from his latest predicament?

Is your critter falling behind in the race???

Then reblog. The damn. Poll.

[eyeritestuff]

“I wish I had a mouth..”

Billy Kid x Reader

—X—

A/N: we need more billy kid fanfics. also, excuse grammar errors i’m struggling to get back into writing lalala

CW: mentions of NSFW, but i don’t go into explicit details :P

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Your boyfriend was clingy.

Very clingy… but so are you!

Being a human/humanoid being, it was hard enough in battle having the physical limitations you did, but when it came to your robotic boyfriend, it was scary to give or receive that physical love you both adored and craved so much. Luckily, Billy made sure to limit himself and be extra careful with you. His care is what made you value him that much more. For example, when Billy hugged you, he would snake his arms around your waist, and gently squeeze. There’s also the moments when he wants to hold your hand. Billy would make sure to gently tap the inside of your palm and wait with an open hand for you to reciprocate.

In bed, he was extra careful. Making sure to ask things along the lines of ‘Is everything okay?’, ‘Are you comfortable?’, and ‘Can I touch you here/there?’.

There of course were times, despite the cautions, you would move on instinct and hurt yourself. For example, you’d go for a hug, forget that he’s made metal, and hit your head. There was also times where you’d hold his hand and get pinched between his joints. The funniest of them all were the times where you’d kiss him and accidentally hit your forehead on his.

It’s just human to be clumsy.

He loved that about you.

Billy loved how humans and their bodies worked, and he often showed that fascination where he would do things like holding your hand out and examining it, only to hold his own up and examine the similar parts and pieces. You sometimes got worried about how he compared himself to you, but there’s nothing to worry about because it’s one of those innocent curiosities. He perfectly content with being a machine, but there are certain limitations in his design that make him grumpy. Limitations that were, unfortunately, made prevalent when you two started dating.

You didn’t realize this until one day you two cuddled up in his bed watching Starlight Knight together. Billy sat with his legs crossed, hunched over in shrimp position, and you sat in his lap, leaning back into his chest, and holding a large plushie replication of a Bangboo. He had a large blanket draped over him that he made sure to wrap it in a way so that you’d also be covered. Both sets of eyes glued were glued to the screen, and the scene that was on was one where one of the main characters had received a kiss from the space princess they had just saved from imminent doom.

“I wish I had a mouth..”

You positioned yourself enough to turn and look up at your boyfriend with a curious smile, only for it to drop when you realized his eyes animated downwards. Ohhh, you hated when Billy was sad.

“Wha..? Why?” You asked, placing a hand on the side of his face and stroking it gently with your thumb. A robotic sigh could be heard from him, and he paused the show.

“It’s a super embarrassing reason..” You giggled when you saw the blush lines light up on his face, knowing that at least he had some humor left in him.

“Well, Billy, having a mouth has never stopped you from being yourself..” You replied.

“Yes it has!” He whined, making you scoff. In your head, you were thinking he wanted one to show he was talking.. but oh, how wrong you were.

Leaning back, you grabbed his hand and started tracing over the intricate details of it, kissing it, and then going back to studying it. “Why would you want one?” You asked.

“.. I can feel everything.. The way you feel is.. Y/n, your lips.. I just wanna be able to experience that. It’s hard not being able to kiss you. Not just on your lips, but everywhere.. you’re so amazing and...” He trailed off, failing to express himself in the way he wanted to. He frustratedly sighed, slumping over, and his head on top of yours, “I just feel like I’m falling short when it comes to loving you properly.. I dunno, it’s hard to explain..”

Your heartstrings were cutting your circulation, to say the least. You got up and turned your whole body to face Billy, straddling him, and then placing both hands on his shoulders, you shook him back and forth.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!,” you started, screaming so loud it made him jolt and reply with a small scream of his own. You stopped and continued, “Billy, you’re perfect. Literally. Even without all the extra features, you are perfect to me. I don’t care about what you don’t have, I care about what you do have..” Your concerned face started to wash away, watching his eyes grow in shock. Replacing concern was a lovestruck.

“Y/n..” He mumbled, barely audible. You continued, though, wanting to know exactly how much you loved him.

“I love you. I really do. You care so much about me, down to the way you hold me. That attention to detail is so… it’s so endearing and honestly, a turn on in some instances,” you felt your face heat up, but you pressed on, “I wouldn’t change you for the world because your expression of love, physical and emotional, are one of the things that I love about you. Don’t think for a second that you need to change yourself for me. Ever.”

“… Really..?” Billy asked, his trembling like he was about to cry. You smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek and nodded, “Yes, really!”

Billy chuckled and sighed, “..Are you sure..?” You giggled, noticing he was joking. “Yes, I’m sure..”

“Soooo, what you’re saying is.. my fingers are enough fore—”was all Billy could manage before you pushed him down and started suffocating him with the Bangboo plushie. His voice was replaced by muffled laughs and struggling noises.

“ENOUGH OF YOU.” You said, burning red in the face. You let him go after a minute or two, and his childish laughs and giggles got louder.

“I had to ask..!” You huffed at his reply and turned away to pout. Billy sat back up and rested his hands onto your hips and his eyes smiled. “Imagine if I had a tongue..”

Turning back to look at him you gasped and started yanking his hair, making him yelp. “CAN WE NOT??! IM TRYING TO BE SENTIMENTAL!”

“Yank it harder,” Billy started to laugh, only making you give up and let go, “Y’know I like it rough, baby..~” He jokingly followed up. You snorted and cracked a smile at his fake sexy voice, and sighed nodding your head.

“Okay, okay.. for realsies this time, Y/n..?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.. it means the world to me.”

—X—

A/N: billy uses humor to cope during serious situations, that’s my HC yeah.. anyways, i didn’t proofread this :3

[kyu-piddy]

Ranking (some) twst love triangles on how messy they are

An: This is a very informal ranking and very informal type of writing. They’re just little overviews of how I personally think these love triangles would function. Hope you enjoy it. :)

Ps: This is the first time I publish something that features my favorite character! Hopefully I didn’t favor him too much.

Gn reader x Trey, Cater, Azul, Jade, Jamil, Kalim, Silver, Lilia

Trigger warnings: Swearing

2.1k words

Tiers:

S tier- The love triangle of doom. Messiest love triangles, where it’s all too melodramatic and/or complicated.

A- Not as messy as the above, but still a delicate bomb to diffuse.

B- Standard love triangle. They aren’t at each other's throat constantly, but leave them alone long enough and they will start fighting.

C- Chill love triangle. Either because they’re really good friends, or just because they’re that confident in their victory.

D- Is this even a love triangle? There are indeed two people who like you, but one has dropped out of the race for one reason or the other.

Trey vs Cater

Do you know those times where you and a stranger are both trying to get through a door in opposite directions, and while trying to let the other pass you just keep getting in front of each other, in a sort of embarrassing dance of polite smiles while internally cursing the other person? Well, that is basically the Trey x Reader x Cater love triangle.

Cater and Trey are both really perceptive of their own feelings and of others, so they would be aware of the others' crush.

They’re also some of the fakest motherfuckers in the cast (only behind Azul, Jade and Jamil) so they would not even think of confronting each other.

Initially they’d put this veneer of pseudo politeness, throwing some double entendres to each other and not making any moves on you.

But as time progresses they’re definitely becoming little shits to each other.

Trey is exploiting his baking talent and his unique magic to the max, making your favorite foods and serving them to you and Cater, making sure you see how Cater gags as he tries it, the food's flavor being imposed with a horrid one like old socks.

Trey is also using his dependable and mature reputation to give you advice that subtly favors him and subtly makes Cater look like a dunce.

Man is full on telling you every embarrassing story of Caters disguised as going down on a trip to memory lane, but always while you’re with more people around, so they can tell you how Trey swept in and saved the day.

Cater on the other hand, is making sure to seduce you with his tech savviness and social media knowledge.

He’s taking you to the hottest places in town and taking pictures of you both, posting them on his magicam with suspicious captions that make a ton of your friends start asking about your “boyfriend”.

Cater is also loudly proclaiming to everyone who will listen in the Heartslabyul common room the plans he had that day with you.

He used to also proclaim the ones he would have in the future, but stopped after Trey crashed one of his cafe hopping dates with you, creating the most bizarre outing of your life, balancing the polite shit talking of these two.

If Cater didn’t live with Trey he’d probably dox him on the twisted wonderland equivalent of Twitter. Trey would do the same if he knew how to use Twitter.

The worst part is that neither of them will back off or give the finishing blow of confessing.

They're stuck in this loop of ruining the others momentum that their friendship is close to breaking, so either you notice and step up, or someone else notices and gives them a stern talking to.

Out of their dorm, the only one besides them I see figuring it out, is Ace, but Ace is no match for Trey and Cater.

They’re denying it to his face and making Ace feel like a complete idiot.

When you finally notice the mess that these two have made, if you don’t confront them, they’re still going to be in denial.

You have to be firm! Tell them head on who you want, before they make the whole of Heartslabyul collapse.

In terms of the messiness of this love triangle, I give it a B.

It’s annoying and messy, since they’re both so evasive and a little lacking in the making substantial moves department, but they’re still chill on how they treat you and the uninvolved parties (most of the time at least).

Azul vs Jade

Azul and Jade are both conniving and scheming master mind wannabes, but they also tend to rely on each other for support, so pairing them up against each other will lead to some sort of 4d intergalactic chess competition between them, while you are playing checkers and surprisingly still winning.

They’re the kind of smart that turns back around into being kind of stupid.

Jade is like a weird kid in a horror movie, all weird phrases and sinister smiles, but Azul isn’t much better with his mob boss vibe.

You can try running from them, but these fuckers must have put some sort of tracking gps on you because they always appear at the worst time.

Neither of them really knows how to even be romantic to win you over.

Azul is following some sort of guide like “How to make her fall for you in a fortnight”, taking notes and everything.

But he does tend to exaggerate with his gestures, not as much as Kalim would, but just enough to seem sorta of fake.

He’d even try to offer you suspiciously good deals, like “Go on a date with me and I’ll give you a study guide for alchemy”.

He only added one teensy eensy hidden clause that if he didn’t enjoy the date enough, you’d have to accept to go on another one.

But Jade is there to rain on his parade and tell you exactly what line and page you should search for suspicious activity.

Unlike Azul, Jade doesn’t try to conform to the human way of courting.

He is going to share his mushroom collection with you and also scare the shit out of you with ominous warnings of their specific properties.

He’d probably even make stuff up or embellish it to sound worse just to see your reaction.

Azul is definitely trying to end any time you have with Jade, giving him tasks right as the eel is spending time with you.

But it tends to go bad for Zuzu, as Jade just brings you along or purposefully half asses the task.

They’re also snipping each other with pointed comments that sound more like thinly veiled threats of violence.

Well, Jade’s threats are more violence oriented, while Azul’s are more of the mansplain manipulate malewife variety.

But what neither of them was prepared for was Floyd’s fourth wheeling.

Initially, Floyd thought it was pretty funny to see the other two beefing, but he gets bored fast.

He’s going to start taking you away from the other two so he can watch them fume in anger.

If he’s in the mood, he might even try to play matchmaker with one of them, or start shit talking both of them. The latter is more likely.

This is another pair of fools who won’t confess. They pride themselves so much as always being thirty steps ahead that they will try their hardest to create a situation where you have to choose one of them.

But it might all be for nothing because Floyd might just feel like telling you and then there goes any sense of mysteriousness down the drain.

I’ll give this love triangle an A. It’s definitely messy as hell, but it could always be worse.

Kalim vs Jalim

Oh boy. This is the love triangle from hell. Nuclear fallout levels of toxicity, and you’re the bomb.

This is a type of love triangle that no one even knows is a love triangle.

Kalim is the most obvious person on the planet with his crush.

He's showering you with expensive gifts, buttering you up like you’re a particularly tasty muffin and following you around like a lost puppy.

Even though he’s doing all that, homeboy will not use his brain cell to deduce he has a crush on you immediately.

As soon as he does figure it out (which bless his heart, might take a bit) he will be dead set on confessing to you, only being stopped by Jamil.

Jamil is putting the brakes on Kalims stunts, but not out of the kindness of his heart.

He knows he can’t directly stop Kalim, so instead he’s going to try to slow him down, and win you over behind everyone’s back.

Jamil is actually good at the art of romancing.

He’ll offer you tasty meals (disguised as leftovers of the things he made for Kalim), to braid your hair.

He’ll even offer really solid advice.

The two problems with all of this are that 1) Kalim will most definitely barge in at every given opportunity and cockblock the hell out of Jamil, and 2) You can very easily misinterpret this as friendly or even as part of his duties.

You and everyone else, that is.

I can’t see anyone figuring out Jamil’s crush on you. He’s one of the most discreet people on campus with his feelings.

And with the added grief of sharing them with Kalim, he’s keeping it under lock and key.

Kalim is going to confess. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.

He’s strangely serious about the whole thing, bringing a 24 karat ring, with a red diamond bigger than your finger to prove his love to you.

Jamil is fuming. It’s like a kick to the nuts, and what I see it making him step up his game and basically confess to you as well.

He’d confess in a very roundabout way, the kind of confessing that leaves you wondering if you’re reading too much in between the lines. But remember, this is Jamil! Reading inbetween the lines is a required skill to actually understand this man.

This is such a messy love triangle honestly. If you choose Kalim, it’s going straight to Jamil’s mind chamber of repressed trauma. If you don’t choose Kalim, you’re going to have to deal with Al-Asim tears (he ain’t used to being told no in any capacity), which makes Jamil’s duties more stressful.

For all these reasons, I put this love triangle at S tier. Good luck to you, and my condolences. You aren’t leaving this mess unscathed.

Silver vs Lilia

This one is mostly just sad.

Silver is slow in matters of love. He’d be his normal gentlemanly self, barely changing how he behaves towards you, but to others he becomes lowkey really annoying.

Doing his homework? He's mentioning how he saw you through the window during that class. Sword training? He’s reminiscing on how you complimented his technique. Drinking water? You did say you needed to drink more water, maybe he should remind you.

This would most likely lead to Sebek flipping the fuck out and screaming at Silver to either do something about his crush or shut up.

Silver.exe is loading.

And then he just… nods his head and agrees that he should do something about it.

He’s going to get advice from Lilia, who isn’t exactly a master of seduction but at least has more experience under his belt.

Lilia already knew of Silver's crush, and sadly he also already knew of his own crush on you, but bat dad is dropping all of his potential feelings in favor of his son’s.

He’s telling Silver to bring you flowers, to take you out to dinner, to treat you with kindness and respect, the whole shabang.

And Lilia is always staying in the back, watching his little boy grow up. It does hurt him, but not exactly because of his feelings, more because he feels bad about sharing the object of his affections with his son. He’d never want to hurt his boy nor you.

Only Malleus would know of Lilia’s feelings, although Silver has an inkling that something isn’t right.

Lilia would never tell him, and Silver doesn’t know exactly what’s going on in his dad’s mind, but he definitely suspects that something is going on.

If Silver knew of his fathers feelings for you, he’d immediately stop pursuing you, so bat dad is making sure his son never knows what’s actually bothering him.

Malleus on the other hand knows that Lilia has some sort of feelings for you, but is also keeping it under lock and key at the request of Lilia.

Sebek is the only one fully out of the loop, which leads him to comment things that are really hurtful to Lilia.

Seeing as Lilia is emotionally constipated, he’d bottle it all up and proceed like normal.

When Silver confesses, Lilia feels bittersweet. He’s genuinely happy for his son, but pangs of sadness reverberate through his heart.

He’s downplaying his feelings even to himself.

In terms of rating, this is a D. Lilia just carries Silver on his shoulders and then dumps him in the finish line. It’s not even a proper race.

It’s very depressing, seeing as you will never even know about Lilia’s feelings, while Silver will always have an inkling that there’s something going on with his dad.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Dancing on Ice

Summary: FC43 + “I can’t ice skate amor, I’ll break all my bones.”

Song: Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

Taglist: @eapunetaestoestadificil

Author’s note: I've never written about ice skating before so bear in mind! Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

You step onto the glistening surface of the ice, feeling the cool air brush against your cheeks like a gentle whisper. The skating rink is vacant, save for the faint music echoing from the speakers overhead

This is your sanctuary, the place where you feel most alive, where your heart dances in tandem with your movements. You take a deep breath and inhale the smell of fresh ice, the scent of excitement and endless possibilities.

But today isn’t just about you. Today, you want Franco to experience this world—to share a piece of your heart tucked away in every swirl of your skates.

You glance toward the entrance, and there he is: Franco Colapinto, your boyfriend, standing at the threshold, his tall, athletic frame now almost comically awkward as he awkwardly adjusts the ice skates laced around his ankles.

“Why do I feel like a baby giraffe?” he calls out, chuckling nervously.

You can’t help but laugh too, your heart swelling with affection. “You’ll be fine, amor! Just take it one step at a time.”

Franco rolls his eyes, but a smile plays on his lips. “One step at a time? It feels more like one slip at a time,” he says as he takes his first tentative steps onto the ice.

You can see the concentration etched on his face as he clutches at the air to find balance.

“I can’t do this amor, I’ll break all my bones.” he muttered, trying to balance on his wobbly feet.

“You won’t break all your bones, I promise,” you tease, gliding toward him effortlessly.

“Easy for you to say! You have a lifetime of practice,” he replies, his voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. “I can’t even stand up without feeling like I’m about to topple over!”

“C’mon, let’s do it together,” You extend your hand, willing him to take it. You know his tendency to overthink things, to become overly self-critical, and you want to ease that anxiety, even just a little.

Without a moment of hesitation, he takes your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours with a grip that feels warm and reassuring.

The initial moments are filled with a few shaky steps and laughter. Every time Franco wobbles, you can’t help but giggle, your laughter ringing out across the rink.

“See cariño? It’s not so bad!” you say, your voice light with encouragement.

“I can’t tell if I’m moving forward or just inching toward certain doom,” he smiles, his eyes sparkling with a blend of fear and exhilaration.

“You’re doing great! Now, try to relax your knees. Bend them like this.” You demonstrate, your body gliding effortlessly across the ice as if it were your second skin.

He followed your movements with his gaze, a mix of admiration and disbelief etched on his face. You had seen that look before, knew how he loved watching you skate—how it made him forget the world for a moment.

“Are you going to try that jump again?” Franco called out, his voice carrying across the chilly afternoon air. You glanced back at him, a playful smile curling your lips.

“Maybe,” you replied, pushing off the ice, your blades cutting through with a crisp sound. “But only if you promise to catch me if I fall!”

He laughed, a rich sound that warmed the chill around you. “I’ll try to catch you.”

You concentrated, feeling the cool wind against your face as you executed the jump. Time seemed to freeze; with a perfect landing, your heart soared. Cheering, you glided back to him.

“How did I do?” you beamed.

“Like a swan, hermosa!” Franco exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. “I swear, you get better every time.”

His praise made your cheeks flush, and you brushed your hair off your forehead, trying to play it cool. “It’s just practice. You should give it a go sometime.”

“Me? No way!” he chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I’d rather watch you shine.”

You stepped closer, feeling the warmth radiate from him. “You’re not scared, are you? C’mon, I could teach you.”

“Well, I’ll try to look as graceful as you,” he said, his voice light but filled with feigned optimism. “But I’ll probably just end up face-first on the rink.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be right here to catch you,” you reassured him, enthusiasm coursing through your veins as you took his gloved hand in yours.

You felt the warmth radiating from him, a welcome contrast to the cold around you. Slowly, you pulled him along, watching as he took shaky steps beneath the weight of his own apprehension.

With each stride, the sound of his skates zipping across the ice harmonized beautifully with the gentle melody that enveloped you.

Observing the flicker of determination ignite in his eyes was a joy unlike any other; for a fleeting moment, you could see him beginning to ease into the rhythm.

“You can do this, amor! Just trust yourself!” Your voice was filled with a bubbling laughter that echoed in the spaces between you.

As the fear melted away, joy illuminated his features, and what had once felt like an intimidating vastness transformed into your shared world of warmth.

“Okay, okay, I’m feeling a little bit better!” Franco exclaimed, his smile infectious, making his cheeks flush against the biting cold. “But I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Ice skating! Who even likes ice skating?”

“I do!” you replied, a laugh escaping as you effortlessly glided toward him again, your fingers intertwining with his. “Ice skating is like flying, Franco. It’s freedom. It’s beautiful!”

“Flying, you say?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “I’m more like a flying squirrel, but sure!”

You laughed, your heart swelling with affection and amusement. “Alright, then let’s embrace your inner flying squirrel!”

You pulled him forward, teaching him to lean into the turns, guiding him cautiously along as he found his footing.

The ice was an echoing realm of freedom for you, but it was a whole new world for him. You could sense his insecurity, yet with every few strides, he grew bolder, the apprehension beginning to unfurl.

As you twirled in front of him, he laughed at your playful antics.

"Are you sure you didn’t slip anything into my coffee this morning?" he teased, finally smiling back at you.

“Only a healthy dose of confidence,” you responded mischievously, spinning in place again before extending your arms wide. “Now, try to match my flow.”

“Easier said than done!” he said as he mirrored your movements, wobbly yet resilient. You laughed, trying to pull him closer so he could feel your energy and steadiness.

With each revolution, something clicked within him. Franco’s eyes sparkled with determination now, even as his balance faltered once or twice, his body weaving like a willow in the wind.

You steadied him with a quick squeeze of his hands, never letting go entirely.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it!” he exclaimed, his excitement infectious. “Wait, I actually feel good! Like, really good!”

“See? You’re a natural.” You beamed proudly, your heart racing with joy for him. “Just imagine how smooth you’ll be on race day if you just keep trusting yourself.”

He shot you a playful glare. “Are you trying to turn me into an ice-skating prodigy? Because I’m more into racing, you know?”

“Well, you can be both! Just think about it—Franco, the world’s first professional ice skater and racer!” You had to stifle a laugh as he pretended to ponder that monumental decision.

“Sounds like a lot of work. How about I just stick with being your boyfriend?” he said, his hazel eyes flickering with mischief.

“You’re more than my boyfriend; you’re my partner on and off the ice,” you said genuinely, squeezing his hands tighter for emphasis. “And I’m not letting you go, so you better get used to it.”

As he looked at you, something shifted in the air—a moment suspended beyond ice and skates, creating its own magic. “Thank you,” he replied softly, sincerity shining through his tone. “For believing in me.”

The words settled warmly between you, and as your feet guided you across the surface, you felt connected not just by your hands but by the joy of shared experiences. Franco found his rhythm, those early fears evaporating with each graceful stride.

“Can you feel it?” you prompted as you began spinning, your feet gliding effortlessly. “Can you feel the freedom?”

He spun in place, attempting to emulate you, albeit with less grace. “I’m starting to! But I might need a little more practice!” He laughed, but this time, it was lighter, more joyous.

You couldn’t help your laughter, a melody shared between you. “More practice will come. And hey, if you fall, I promise to catch you,” you teased, your heart swelling with affection.

As you circled each other, the world outside the rink faded, and all that mattered was the two of you. Every worried thought he’d held on to was gently replaced with laughter, joy, and the bright glow of confidence.

Suddenly, Franco lost his balance, his swift attempt to spin faltering, and he stumbled towards you. Without a second thought, you instinctively pulled him close to prevent a fall.

As his weight leans into you, you manage to steady him, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the cold chill around you. His hazel eyes staring at you, a small smile dancing on his lips. His brown curls flutter against your cheek, and for a moment, the cold world around you melts away.

“I told you,” you chuckled, your eyes meeting his with warmth, “I wouldn’t let you break anything before your race.”

He smiled, his expression now a mix of gratitude and admiration. “I think I can manage with a little help from my favorite professional.”

Your heart soared at the endearment. “Always,” you promised, your laughter echoing against the ice.

As time passed, he not only found his balance but began to experiment with spins. “Okay, check this out!” he called, determination written all over his face.

His movements were clumsy but earnest. You stood back, watching, heart swelling with pride. “I’m going to try a spin!”

“Just remember to keep your weight in the right place!” you shouted back, excitement bubbling in your chest. Franco seemed to heed your words; he steadied himself, drew a breath, and began to spin.

Your cheers filled the air as he completed the maneuver without stumbling—an almost miraculous feat for a beginner.

“Did you see that?” he exclaimed, eyes sparkling with life. He spun around once more, a little more confident each time.

Encouraged by your enthusiasm, he shouted, “I’m going to try something bigger! A flying spin!”

“Be careful!” you hollered as he gained speed, the adrenaline coursing through both of you. He took a deep breath, launched himself into the air, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed he would soar.

But reality proved unforgiving; Franco missed his landing. Time slowed as you watched, eyes widening in horror, and instinct kicked in. You dashed toward him, desperate to help him regain his balance.

But the moment you reached him, the inevitable happened—you both fell.

The world crashed to silence as you landed on the ice with a thud. The cold bit at your skin, and it took a moment to register what had transpired. You glanced over your shoulder, concern flooding your senses.

Franco had fallen on his back, making a pillow of his body, still clutching you tightly to protect you from the impact.

“Mi amor, are you alright?” he grunted, his face contorted with discomfort.

A wave of dizziness washed over you, but your concern snapped you awake. “I’m okay, I think…” You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shifted your weight to examine him more closely.

“Are you alright?” Your hands cupped his cheeks, brushing away the ice shavings that clung to his skin.

“Yeah, amor, just a small fall,” he muttered, attempting to smile through the obvious pain, fingers squeezing your hips reassuringly. Even in a moment of chaos, he remained protective.

Your heart ached at the sight of him. “You scared me!” you said, a mixture of love and exasperation in your voice as you detected the underlying wince in his expression. “You should’ve just fallen on the ice instead of trying to catch me!”

“And let my girlfriend get hurt? Not a chance,” he responded, his eyes softening.

Shivers danced down your spine as you felt the warmth of his hands against you, a fleeting moment of tenderness amidst the chaos.

With a grunt, he shifted and sat up, still holding you. “I’m sorry. I thought I could nail it, just like you. You make this look so easy,” he replied, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“It’s okay, Franco. You did amazing for your first time! I promise, it takes practice,” you assured him, your heart swelling with affection and admiration. “The fact that you even tried a flying spin is impressive!”

“You really think so?” A hint of doubt lingered in his voice, and you could see the way his breath hitched in uncertainty.

“Absolutely! You were fearless,” you said, leaning closer for emphasis. “And I love that about you.”

His gaze fixed on yours, the warmth in his hazel eyes igniting a spark of connection between you. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his tone sincere, laced with admiration. “I want to learn this just to impress you more.”

Your heart danced in rhythm with the flutter of his words.

“You are beyond ridiculous,” you laughed, shaking your head.

With a grunt, he shifted to sit up, still holding onto you. “I’m sorry. I thought I could nail it, just like you. You make this look so easy.” He brushed loose strands of hair behind your ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You examined his face, searching for any sign of injuries. “You better not be injured,” you said, half-joking and half-serious, concern lacing your words.

“I would do the same again to protect you,” he replied, his voice firm yet soft, almost as if he was convinced of his own capabilities.

“Franco, you can’t,” you said, your hands on his shoulders grounding him. “I don’t want you to get injured.”

Your palms pressed into him, feeling the steady heat of his body beneath the chill in the air, while his hands rubbed slow circles on your waist and leg, an attempt to soothe both of your worries.

“Te amo más que a la vida en sí,” he muttered softly, his forehead resting against yours. I love you more than life itself.

The warmth of his words sent shivers racing down your spine. It was a phrase you adored, an affirmation that always made your heart flutter.

"Yo también te amo, mi amor," you replied, the familiarity of the words wrapping around you like a cozy blanket against the chill of the rink. I love you too, my love.

His eyes sparkled at your reply, and in that moment, you felt that intoxicating rush, like you did when you first started dating two years ago. Your heartbeats were erratic, fluttering like a trapped butterfly.

“Would it be inappropriate to kiss you here?” he asked, his voice teasing yet laced with sincerity as he leaned just a fraction closer, eyes darting between yours and your lips.

“It might raise a few eyebrows,” you replied, feigning seriousness, though your heart was racing in anticipation.

“Like who? Your manager?” he teased, referring to the figure of authority bundled in her coat, observing from the bleachers with a look of bemusement.

Behind her, a few paramedics stood chatty but alert, ready to intervene if needed.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, you’re not wrong about that. But we’ve got all this space and ice, and if we get caught… I’ll never hear the end of it. Not to mention, you’ll probably never want to skate again!”

“Exactly! So, we should make this moment count. The ice is ours!” He leaned in a little more, his intent oh-so-clear now.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, fighting the laughter and the nerves.

“Franco,” you began, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, but his gaze was unwavering, inviting, and mischievous.

“Okay, how about this,” he proposed with a cheeky grin. “One kiss, right here, right now. If we get caught, we’ll blame it on the ice, right?”

You chuckled, letting the moment bubble between you two. “You are incorrigible.”

“But you love it,” he beamed, his confidence unwavering.

Before you could answer, he closed the gap. Your lips met softly, and time seemed to stretch, the sound of the world around you fading into a blissful hush.

It was a simple yet electric exchange, and you could feel a thrill racing through you—not just from the kiss, but from the sweetness of the moment.

Just as you pulled away, your manager, Laura, called out, voice slightly panicked, “Is everything alright over there?”

“Perfectly fine!” Franco called back, his voice laced with laughter. The infectious nature of his grin transformed your previously solid focus into giggles as you beamed at each other, your hearts still racing.

You slowly got off Franco's lap, playfully nudging him. “Come on, we need to get back to practice before Laura comes over here.”

As you attempted to pull him up, he made a loud grunt in pain, his expression shifting instantly from playful to concerned. “Ow! Okay, maybe that was a bad idea.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, worry knitting your brows together as he rubbed his back where he'd fallen awkwardly.

He waved a hand dismissively, but you could see the wince in his eyes. “Just a little sore. You know how it is—ice can be a bit unforgiving.”

You knelt down beside him, your heart aching with concern. “Really, amor, that looked like a pretty nasty fall. You shouldn’t brush it off.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said, though the way he shifted his weight suggested it was bothering him more than he let on. “Besides, I’d take a hundred falls to save you.”

You felt warmth spread through your chest at his words. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, fighting back a smile. “You’re not supposed to heroically throw yourself down for me.”

“Maybe I just wanted to showcase my dedication,” he replied with a teasing wink that was all Franco.

He had a tendency to turn serious moments into playful banter, and although part of you was grateful for the levity, another part found it hard to let go of the worry gnawing at you.

“Okay Mr. Dedicated, how about you let me help you up?” you offered with a hint of determination.

“Alright, but only if you promise to take me for hot chocolate afterward,” he retorted, his eyes sparkling with mischief once again.

“Deal!” You reached out your hands, and he grasped them, allowing you to pull him up. Yet, the moment he stood, he grimaced and swayed slightly, the bravado giving way to discomfort.

“Whoa! Steady there!” you laughed, though there was a hint of concern in your laughter.

“I’m good,” he insisted, his voice a mix of confidence and challenge, but you weren’t convinced.

“Franco, you—”

“Seriously, it’s just a bruise; I promise. Let’s keep skating!” He tried to brush off your apprehension, but you could see the effort was taking its toll.

The bright red of his cheeks was testament to both the cold and the strain, and his laughter felt a little too forced to be entirely genuine.

“Okay, but no stunts for a while, alright?” you retorted, crossing your arms playfully but firmly.

The worry you felt for him was overshadowed by your desire to keep the fun spirit alive.

“Only for you, amor,” he winked, and your heart fluttered.

It was moments like these that made you realise how much you adored him—the way he could light up a moment with a single glance, a cheeky joke, or unexpected charm.

Franco completed a few more cautious circles around the rink, but soon enough his bravado waned, and you noticed him retreating to the edge.

You didn’t let him out of your sight, instinctively knowing when he reached that tipping point.

“So how did it feel Franco?” your manager, Laura, asked as you two emerged from the rink shortly afterward, Franco’s eyes glazed with a mix of excitement and fatigue.

“It felt great other than falling,” he joked, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.

You shot him a look, a careful mix of adoration and concern. “Can you check to see if he hurt his back?” you asked the paramedics who were on standby, a routine precaution for first-time skaters.

“Amor, I’m fine—” Franco started, but you interjected.

“I’ll know when you’re fine after you get checked,” you stated, lifting your chin defiantly. There was no arguing with you when you were in protective mode.

He sighed, clearly recognising that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Alright then,” he relented, following the paramedics to a quieter corner of the rink.

You hastily removed your skates, glancing back at him occasionally to ensure he was managing.

Inside, a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. Nothing mattered more than his wellbeing, but the thought of him being hurt, even just a little, made you feel restless as you trailed after him.

The paramedic studied his back and neck, then carefully lifted the fabric of his shirt to examine the bruising forming there. “You’ve got a herniated disc—it’s when a spinal disc bulges out of shape and irritates a nerve.”

The words landed heavily in the air between you.

For a moment, silence surrounded you as you tried to process the implications. Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you instinctively squeezed Franco’s hand, seeking comfort in the shared warmth.

“Will he recover before his race?” you asked the paramedic, your voice softer than you intended, each word wrapped in concern.

The medic looked up from his notes, his demeanor serious.

“It depends on the severity. Usually, with rest and physical therapy, he can manage a recovery in a few weeks, but we’ll need to monitor the healing closely.”

Franco smiled at you, trying to downplay your concern. “See? Just a couple of weeks, amor. I’ll bounce back!”

“You’d better,” you teased, though your heart wasn’t quite in it.

“Alright, I promise to be more careful,” he said, his sarcasm masking the determination in his voice.

As both of you left the rink together, a new resolve defined your relationship. It was about more than just skating; it was about navigating life’s challenges together.

You wanted Franco to be bold and adventurous, but only within reason.

Days turned into weeks, and you watched as Franco adhered to the medic’s advice, resting as directed while attending physical therapy sessions.

You were by his side each step of the way, from his first hesitant visits to the therapist to his high-paced workouts designed to regain both strength and flexibility.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered one evening, as you braided his hair, the two of you sprawled out on the couch watching old films, a stark contrast to the usual frantic energy of your lives.

“Yeah, but I probably should've done just one lap instead of forcing my way into stunts,” he said, laughing lightly. “Now, I’m stuck watching romcoms when all I want to do is skate beside you.”

It warmed your heart to see him smile, even if it was partly strained. “True, but sometimes you need to listen, especially if it’s for your health.”

“Fair enough. And you’re going to be the best skating partner,” he said, leaning closer as his gaze softened. “When I’m back on the ice, I bet I’ll surprise you.”

“You better,” you responded, unable to hide your grin. “Just don’t try to do a backflip until you’ve fully healed. Save the stunts for when you’re ready.”

“Deal,” he chuckled, and the moment swelled with an intimacy that settled into both of you.

As you journeyed through this chapter of life together, the skating rink remained a cornerstone of your relationship.

Franco’s determination fueled your own desires to push limits and explore new heights as partners, both on and off the ice. . . .

Franco Colapinto had just secured a commendable fifth place in today’s race, a result that was met with cheers from his team and fans alike. As he walked towards the media tent, his sweat-soaked face beamed with the remnants of adrenaline.

The rhythm of the crowd faded into a blur as he approached the series of microphones lined up before him, the heavily decorated backdrop emblazoned with the race sponsor's logo looming behind.

"Franco Colapinto! Great race today, fifth place! How are you feeling?" an interviewer asked, holding a microphone towards him, eager for a juicy soundbite.

Franco wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, still catching his breath from the intense competition. “Oh yeah, the car’s pretty solid. Oh, and the halo too, it didn’t move luckily unlike last time,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

His last race had been rocky, with his car’s protective halo unexpectedly shifting during a maneuver and causing a momentary panic.

The interviewer, somewhat surprised by the casual mention of such a potentially dangerous situation, continued, “That’s reassuring to hear! You drove impressively today. But you look like you have somewhere else you want to be at.”

There was a note of curiosity in the interviewer’s voice, wading into the waters of personal matters.

Franco paused, the cacophony of reporters and cameras fading momentarily. The corners of his mouth curled up into a genuine smile for the first time since his race.

“Mi Amor is ice skating today, and I want to surprise her before her event ends, so can we be quick?” His voice was light and playful, revealing a side rarely seen behind the steely demeanor of a racer.

The interviewer blinked, momentarily taken aback by his honesty. “Umm, sure! That’s quite sweet of you. How long have you two been together?”

“Just 2 years,” Franco replied, his expression softening as he spoke about his girlfriend. “But it feels like forever. She pushes me to be better, both on and off the track. I never want to miss her performances.”

“Sounds like she’s your biggest supporter!” the interviewer remarked, correctly sensing the warmth in his eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” he replied, a touch of pride in his voice. “She’s an amazing skater—blades of ice are her world. I’ve seen her practice, and honestly, it's another level of artistry.”

As he spoke, his excitement was palpable; racing was his profession, but you were his passion outside of those roaring engines.

The interviewer nodded thoughtfully, scribbling notes. “And I bet she’s just as thrilled that you’re here. How does she feel about your racing career?”

“She loves it. She's come to a few races already.” Franco chuckled. “Though sometimes I think she’s more excited about the cars than I am! But she gets nervous, too, which makes me feel protective. I always remind her—I'm not just racing for me, I’m racing for both of us. Every time I step on that grid, I’m thinking of her cheering in the stands.”

“That's really beautiful,” the interviewer commented, glancing at his notes. He could sense the depth of Franco's feelings. “So, what’s next for you after this race?”

“Next, I need to ask her what she thinks about my performance,” Franco said, grinning. “And if I can, I’ll take her out for something nice—dinner, maybe. I owe her that much after all the support she gives me. Winning is great, but knowing that she's proud means the world.”

Before the interviewer could ask his next question, Franco glanced at the clock on the wall of the media tent, concern flickering in his eyes. “You know what? I really need to go now. Thank you for understanding. I hope you enjoy the rest of the day.”

He quickly added, “And maybe next time I’ll bring her along. You can interview both of us!”

The interviewer couldn’t help but smile as he pushed the microphone aside. “Great idea! And best of luck to Y/N in her competition!”

With that, Franco waved as he dashed out of the tent, his mind already spinning with plans of getting to the rink before you finished.

Franco wandered through the bustling media tent, a vibrant bouquet of red and yellow flowers clutched tightly in his hand. The scent of fresh blooms mingled with the more sterile aroma of cameras and microphones, creating an unexpected comfort in the chaotic atmosphere.

His recent achievement—a remarkable fifth place in the race—had almost everyone buzzing, but it was the bright flowers that captured the curiosity of the media around him.

"Franco! Over here!" called a voice from the throng of reporters. A tall man with a press badge darted in front of him, preventing his escape. Franco smiled and adjusted his grip on the flowers, determined to enjoy the moment.

"How does it feel to finish fifth?" the reporter continued, his camera poised for the perfect shot.

Franco grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "It feels incredible! I worked so hard for this, and to see it all pay off is just amazing. I was a bit nervous coming into the race, but it turned out to be a day I’ll never forget."

Another reporter chimed in, "What’s the secret behind your performance today?"

Franco chuckled softly. "It’s all about the team. We train together every day, and their support keeps me motivated. We strategised a lot, and I owe it all to them and my race engineer."

As he continued to navigate through the questions—about strategy, training, and future goals—he noticed a hint of impatience creeping into the expressions of the press.

They were all eyeing the bouquet. Finally, one bold journalist broke through the chatter.

"What’s with the flowers, Franco? Are they a good luck charm, or do they signify something else?"

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden focus on the bouquet. “There’s a story behind these!” he said, his face lighting up. "They're for mi amor! I’m going to surprise her after her event today!"

A wave of collective 'aww' erupted from the reporters. He could almost hear the clattering of pens and the clicking of cameras as they captured the moment.

Franco straightened, proud to share a piece of his heart. . . .

The rink glimmered under the bright lights, the cool air buzzing with excitement and nerves as skaters and spectators alike took their places. Your heart raced in sync with the music hauntingly echoing through the arena.

You couldn’t believe you were standing here, only moments away from your final performance in the national skating competition. Just years ago, you had been a bundle of nerves—a small-town girl with a bigger dream—and now, somehow, you’d made it to this coveted spot, a finalist among the best.

“Okay, you’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself, lacing up your skates in front of the mirror.

You could barely focus on your reflection; all you could think about was Franco. You knew he was racing right now, but just before you left for the rink, he’d given you one of his heart-stirring pep talks.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he’d said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Just remember, it doesn’t matter what place you get. I’m proud of you, whether it’s first, second, or third. Just skate your heart out.”

“Yeah, but I really want to win,” you had replied, stuffing your nerves down.

“Then win for both of us,” he urged, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And no matter what happens in that rink, I’m going to be cheering for you. I promise to pull victory with me if I can!”

His laughter had grounded you, a buoyant wave as he left for his own race. You smiled at the memory, imagining his infectious grin that always made your heart flutter.

The announcer’s voice broke through your reverie. “Next up, we have Miss. Y/N L/N!”

A hush fell over the crowd as you stood up, your heart pounding in rhythm with the applause. You took a deep breath, your lungs filling with chilled air, and began your approach to the rink.

The adrenaline surged as you stepped onto the ice, the coolness beneath your skates sending a thrill coursing through you. You could hear the murmurs of anticipation from the audience, feel their eyes glued to you as you settled into position.

“Come on, Y/N! You can do this!” you mumbled quietly to yourself, your focus sharpening.

You saw Franco's face in your mind, his encouraging spirit radiating from across the space like a bright star in a dark sky.

The music started, enveloping you in its melody like a warm hug. You took your first glide across the ice, letting the rhythm pull you along. Each movement felt fluid, like an instinct you wasn’t fully conscious of.

You leaped and spun, the world swirling around you as you poured every ounce of passion into each motion.

You could almost sense the presence of Franco in the crowd, his unwavering support fueling your performance.

As you completed an intricate sequence of jumps, you caught a glimpse of the other skaters.

Jenna and Mia—both had been formidable competitors throughout the season, but you felt an unexpected surge of confidence.

Your training, your determination, and Franco’s belief in you surged to the forefront of your mind.

“Remember, don’t just skate; perform!” you thought, pulling energy from the atmosphere, feeling the strength in your legs as you executed a difficult spin transition.

The gasps from the audience fueled your resolve, spurring you on for the final jump—the one you had practiced countless times in the mirror and in front of Franco.

And then, you soared.

Time seemed to stretch, and for an instant, you felt weightless, like you could touch the stars themselves. You landed perfectly, a feeling of liberation sweeping through your body as the music reached its triumphant crescendo.

The auditorium erupted into cheers, the sound both deafening and euphoric. You took a final bow, your heart full. There you were, this girl from a small town who had dared to dream.

The chill of the ice rink clung to your skin, the sharp sound of your skates slicing through the frosty surface still ringing in your ears. As you glided off the ice, your heart swelled with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.

The performance had felt electrifying, a mosaic of leaps and spins that you had spent countless hours perfecting.

“Y/N! That was incredible!” Lauren exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement as she rushed over to you.

“Thanks, Lauren! I just… I feel like I finally nailed the double axel!” you grinned, trying to suppress the bubbling thrill of the moment. “I thought my heart was going to stop when I was in the air!”

Zara, your team captain, approached you with a proud smile, her arms crossed in front of her. “You did it, Y/N. You’ve worked so hard for this, and it showed out there. Not to mention that spin at the end—absolutely flawless!”

The warmth of her praise enveloped you as the remaining members of the team joined in, all clapping and congratulating you.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Zara said, looking at you with her serious yet caring eyes. “Let’s wait for the results before we throw a party, okay?”

“True, very true,” you laughed, trying to contain my nerves. “But I’m hopeful!”

You all settled onto the benches lining the rink to wait for the scores to be announced. You fiddled with the cuffs of your skating dress, glancing back at the empty rink where your performance had just taken place, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Minutes felt like hours as the announcer’s authoritative voice cut through the chatter. “And now, we have the first results for the Women’s Singles finals competition. Y/N L/N has been given her first score of 89.95!”

A loud cheer erupted from the audience, accompanied by the resounding applause of your team. You could hardly believe it; your dreams felt within reach, each note of admiration from the crowd pouring warmth into your heart.

“Oh my God, Y/N! That’s amazing!” Lauren jumped up, a look of pure joy on her face.

“Yes! You crushed it!” Zara added, hugging you tightly. “This is just the first result though!”

You felt slightly dazed. “I can’t believe it!” you managed to say, your voice trembling. “I did it! It’s all happening!”

It was like being on stage as the spotlight focused solely on you, and you felt every ounce of love emanating from your team, pushing you to embrace this moment.

This was the highest you've ever scored for one result and it was highly impossible for someone else to replicate the same as you.

The atmosphere in the arena was electric. Vibrant lights flickered above as Mia, your fiercest competitor, prepared to take the stage.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation after your impressive high score on the dance challenge. You watched from the sidelines, your heart racing, and a mix of pride and anxiety surged through you.

“You’ve got this, Mia!” someone shouted from the audience, her friends cheering her on.

You appreciated their encouragement, even though you desperately wanted to maintain your spot at the top of the leaderboard.

As she stepped onto the stage with her usual flair, you leaned back in your chair, waiting to witness what she had in store. The music pulsed through the arena, a heavy bass that resonated within you.

Mia’s dance style was captivating, fluid yet sharp, and she quickly drew everyone’s attention. You couldn’t help but admire her talent, even if it was your score she was trying to beat.

Just as you were lost in her movements, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were greeted by Lauren, your manager.

“Hey, awesome performance today!” she greeted you with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Thanks, Lauren! I just hope I can hold onto my score,” you replied, the concern evident in your voice.

Lauren’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. “It looks like your boyfriend is also doing good too,” she said teasingly, holding up her tablet to show you the race currently unfolding on the screen.

Your heart fluttered. You took the tablet from her hands and focused on the live feed of Franco, your boyfriend, who was battling fiercely in a Formula 1 race.

You squinted at the screen, watching as he maneuvered through sharp turns, his car a blur in the midst of the chaos.

“No way!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “He’s in sixth! And look at him go against Lewis Hamilton!”

“Yeah, it’s insane! Look at how close they are!” Lauren pointed out, clearly as captivated by the race as you were. Franco’s car swerved to the right, narrowly missing a competitor as he attempted to overtake Hamilton.

You cheered, barely able to sit still. “Come on, Franco! You can do it,”

The crowd’s cheers for Mia faded into the background as your focus sharpened on the race. Each moment was an adrenaline rush as Franco pushed for fifth place, expertly navigating the track.

You glanced at Mia, who had just finished her performance, but you were hardly aware of whether she had topped your score. Your heart felt tethered to Franco's every move.

“I can’t believe how intense this is,” Lauren remarked, her eyes glued to the tablet. “He’s really giving Hamilton a run for his money,”

“He always does,” you grinned proudly, unable to hide the swell of admiration for Franco.

Memories of his early morning practices and late nights working on his skills flooded your mind. He lived for racing, and you knew he had the talent and determination to make it.

As you watched, Franco made a daring maneuver, slipping past another driver while inching dangerously close to Hamilton. “Come on, come on,” you whispered, practically bouncing in your seat.

“There he goes!” Lauren shouted, her excitement matching yours. Your heartbeat quickened as Franco, with a burst of speed, eased alongside Hamilton’s car.

In an instant, the traffic from the cars ahead created an opening, and Franco seized his opportunity. “Yes!”

“He did it!” you hollered, clenching your fist in victory.

Franco zoomed past Hamilton, securing the fifth position.

“That’s my boyfriend!” you exclaimed, your voice ringing with pride.

The crisp air inside the ice rink was filled with the sharp sound of skates slicing through the ice, intermingling with the echoes of the audience’s excitement.

You stood near the edge of the rink, your heart racing as you watched Mia walk off the ice. Her graceful movements and flawless execution had captivated everyone, but the scoreboard had revealed a different story.

Despite her efforts, she had fallen just short of your high score.

"Great job, Mia!" you called out, forcing a smile and clapping politely as she skated off, a mix of disappointment and pride etched on her face.

"Thanks!" she replied, breathless. "Just not good enough. But I’m proud of my performance."

You knew how hard she had worked. Hours spent practicing, each routine polished to perfection. But in this competition, there were no guarantees, especially with Jenna gearing up next.

Jenna had always been a formidable opponent, her talent almost inhumanly immense.

You turned your attention back to the rink as Jenna took her place. The crowd hushed, eyes fixated on her. You couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and trepidation.

As the music began, Jenna took off, her body flowing effortlessly to the melody. You watched in awe, marveling at her flexibility and rhythm. Each twirl, each leap took your breath away.

But then it happened. Jenna attempted a triple axel, the crowd holding its breath in anticipation. As she launched into the jump, time seemed to slow. You felt your heart in your throat. And just like that, she fell—hard.

Silence blanketed the rink, the world around you fading as you watched her scramble back to her feet, determination painted across her face.

She finished her routine, but everyone—judges and spectators alike—knew the score would suffer.

“Ugh, that’s going to hurt her,” Lauren muttered beside you, shaking her head sadly.

You nodded, feeling a pang of empathy for Jenna. It was a cruel twist of fate.

Moments later, the scores flashed on the screen, and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw your name at the top of the list. First place.

The cheers erupted around you, but your thoughts went to the second dance round, the deciding performance of the national competition.

“I’m so proud of you!” Lauren squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and you did it.”

“Thanks. But it’s not over yet,” you said, swallowing hard. “I still have the last dance, and I’m really nervous.”

“Just breathe. You’ve got this,” Zara encouraged, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Remember, just be yourself out there.”

But how could you ignore the rising anxiety gnawing at your stomach? You watched the clock tick down as Jenna walked off, looking crushed.

The rink was alive with bright lights and the soft hum of anticipation, a magical venue for a competition you had worked tirelessly for. The cold air bit at your skin, but the chill did nothing to dampen the warmth flooding your heart.

Dressed in a shimmering costume that sparkled like the stars above, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself on the ice.

It was time for the final dance, the moment that could decide your fate in this championship.

As you glided towards center ice, your mind flickered away to Franco. You could almost hear the roar of the crowd at the Formula 1 Grand Prix track, the high-pitched whine of lionhearted machines, and the scent of burning rubber in your nostrils.

He was out there right now, racing his hardest; you could imagine him, resolute behind the wheel of his sleek car, forcing every ounce of energy into each sharp turn.

He had always made it seem so effortless, the way he commanded the racetrack—and today, you wanted to emulate that fierce passion.

You took your position, heart racing in time with the beat of the music. The lights dimmed, and in that hushed moment, you could picture Franco's smile, the way it brightened his face when he spoke of racing.

“Do it for you,” he would say, his hands animated as he gestured roughly, “Every race is a part of you. Just feel it.”

As the music began to swell, cascading harmonies floating into the air, you closed your eyes briefly and thought of his encouraging words.

The melody wrapped around you like a gentle embrace, and when you opened your eyes, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just you and this ice rink, a blank canvas for your passion.

You eased into the first few movement sequences, every swish of your skates a declaration of your determination. The world fell away; there was only the pounding rhythm of the music, echoing in your chest, and the cold serenity of gliding on ice.

But then, as the choreography unfolded, you felt the raw energy of your emotions surging. It was intoxicating and terrifying, amplifying the rush.

Each leap and twirl brought back memories of Franco, seamlessly intertwining his influence into the elegance of your routine. As you spun, the echoes of his laughter and playful teasing reverberated through your mind.

You recalled the night he had surprised you after a practice, whisking you away to an alpine cabin just outside the bustling city.

“I know you’ll win,” he had said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close as you stared out at the snow-covered trees. “Just remember—every time you dance on that ice, you’re racing against yourself.”

Those words spurred you forward now, transforming challenges into opportunities. With each line and curve of your performance, you felt your spirit soaring. You wanted to make Franco proud.

Then, as you reached a soaring climax in your routine, you stumbled—it was a slight miscalculation, an error that rippled through you like a thunderclap.

Panic gripped you for a moment, and for a second, you nearly let it consume you. But all you could think of was Franco, cheering for you from afar, just as he had when you practiced late into the night, insisting that you embrace the falls as much as the victories.

“Just keep pushing! It’s in you!” His voice echoed again in your mind, imbued with unwavering faith in your strength.

You kicked into a powerful leap, determined to regain momentum, and landed it smoothly. The final notes were washing over you like a warm wave, urging you onwards.

With renewed focus, you finished your piece with a burst of extravagance that set the audience on fire—an eruption of applause greeted you, and you greeted it with a radiant smile.

Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you skated to the edge of the rink, where you raised your hands in exhilaration. The joy surged through you like a whirlwind of color.

And as the crowd's cheers faded into a distant hum, the only sound you wanted to hear was the familiar timbre of Franco’s voice celebrating your talent and ferocity.

You stood at the edge of the rink, your skates still laced, your heart pounding in your chest. Just moments before, the announcement had been made.

“And now, we have the results for the Women’s Singles finals competition. Y/N L/N has been given her total score of 168.46!”

Your score hung in the air like a gossamer thread, oscillating between pride and anxiety.

Flashes of the routine you’d executed just minutes ago danced in your mind—perfect pirouettes, soaring jumps, and the way the music had whispered secrets to your soul.

But now, all of that felt like a distant memory as you focused on the rink and your competitor, Mia, gliding towards the center.

Mia had always been your fiercest rival, a skater gifted with an infectious smile that could charm anyone watching. Still, on the ice, she was a lioness—a woman who left nothing to chance.

You could see the determination etched on her face as she prepared for her final performance. With a powerful thrust, she began her routine, her arms slicing through the air like a dancer born for this moment.

You turned to Lauren, who was leaning against the railing, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “She’s going for the triple axel,” you muttered, anxiety lacing your voice.

“She has to,” Karen replied, her eyes never leaving the rink. “Your score is very high to beat.”

As Mia took her first leap, your heart skipped a beat. The smoothness and grace with which she spun in the air was nothing short of breathtaking—the crowd holding their collective breath.

Just below you, Jenna paced back and forth, her nerves palpable. She’d stumbled during her first attempt but was determined to reclaim her moment on the ice.

You turned your attention back to Mia, who was finishing her routine with a confident flourish. As she struck the final pose, the crowd erupted into applause.

You swallowed hard, the reality hitting you again. She was so close to your score—if she performed well, she could easily surpass it. All of a sudden, the pressure felt immense.

Your heart pounded, and you could feel sweat collecting under your collar. You had poured everything into that routine; now, it was out of your hands.

“Mia’s going to take it,” you said, nervously biting her lip. “I know it.”

“No,” Lauren said impulsively. “She’s good, but so are you. You’ve worked hard! You’ve got this.”

The announcer's voice cut through your thoughts. “Jenna Davis is next. Let’s see how she embraces the challenge.”

Jenna took a deep breath, centering herself as she stepped onto the rink. The atmosphere changed dramatically; the crowd's energy was palpable, buzzing with nervous optimism.

As Jenna began to skate, you could hear the soft notes of her music drifting through the air. She started strong, executing her initial moves with poise.

The chorus swelled, urging her on, and she embraced it. The crowd was on edge, and so were you.

Her eyes flickered toward you as she flowed through her routine, visibly gaining confidence with each passing turn. Then it happened. With a powerful jump, Jenna attempted to land her double axel.

Time seemed to slow. The moment she landed perfectly, the crowd erupted into cheers, and you felt the warmth of hope blossom in your chest.

Jenna finished with an elegant twirl and a final pose, tears glistening as she skated over to you, glowing with triumph.

The announcer’s voice echoed again, “And Jenna Davis has redeemed herself, scoring a fantastic 152.03!”

Mia was still there, poised and ready for her scores. The moment felt surreal as the lights dimmed slightly and the focus centered on her.

“Mia’s going to be tough to beat,” Lauren said, shaking her head a little, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “She always rises to the challenge.”

“Let’s just wait,” you said, trying to find that calm center again. But deep inside, you felt the tension thrum beneath your skin. It was a competition, and you wanted nothing more than to win.

You could already sense the warmth from the audience roll toward Mia as the announcer spoke her name.

As the results were announced, your heart raced. “Mia... 167.97! A solid score, but not enough to beat Y/N!”

You gasped, feeling a wildfire of disbelief. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The arena was suddenly a cacophony of cheers, and the warmth from the audience rolled toward you like an overwhelming tide.

A surge of adrenaline pumped through you. You jumped up and down, throwing your arms around Zara, who was nearly as ecstatic as you were.

“I can’t believe it! You did it! You really did it!” Zara laughed, her voice carrying over the noise, pure joy radiating off her. “You’re the national champion!”

You couldn’t even find the words to respond. Instead, you nodded vigorously, a bright smile stretching across your face as you felt the joy erupt within you.

You allowed the feeling to wash over you because this victory wasn’t just about the medal or the title; it was a culmination of everything you had worked for, every late-night practice, every injury you pushed through, all of it leading to this moment.

And then, the announcer’s voice broke the stillness in the air again. “Y/N... 168.46! A remarkable display of skill, and our 2025 National Champion!”

Joy explodes within you, bursting forth like a pent-up dam. You instinctively clutch your chest, feeling the tremor of disbelief mixed with elation.

Your eyes glaze over, and before you know it, tears begin to spill down your cheeks, tracing paths of exhilaration. You’ve made it.

All those years of grueling practice, early mornings, and late nights have culminated in this very moment.

“Y/N! Oh my gosh, you did it!” Lauren, your manager, bursts forth, her arms wide open.

You barely take a second to wipe the tears before she envelops you in a tight hug, her warmth a welcome anchor in the whirlwind of emotions you’re feeling.

“Thank you, Lauren! I couldn’t have done it without you!” you manage to say, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

“Of course, but let’s be real, that was all you! You were phenomenal out there!” she exclaims, stepping back to look you in the eye. There’s a twinkle of pride in her gaze that makes your heart swell even more.

You take a deep breath, glancing around at your team, all gathered with wide smiles and glittering eyes. Their enthusiasm fuels your own, and you laugh, feeling the thrill of triumph wash over you like a warm wave.

“I couldn’t have done it without each of you. Every practice, every pep talk… it all counts,” you say, making eye contact with each team member.

With a grin, you turn your focus towards your competitors, Mia and Jenny, both of whom had pushed you to the limit this season. Their expressions are a mixture of admiration and disappointment, but you know all too well how they feel.

“Hey, great job out there,” you say, skating over to them, your skates gliding effortlessly on the ice. “You both made me really work for it.”

Mia smiles faintly, her confidence unbroken. “You were incredible. I can’t believe how close it was. Next time, I’ll bring my A-game for sure.”

“Definitely! We can’t let you have all the glory,” Jenny adds, her laughter brightening the tense atmosphere.

The three of you share a moment of camaraderie, which dissolves any lingering tension from the competition.

You breathe deeply, inhaling the fragrance of ice and adrenaline, your thoughts drifting to the next steps.

As you approached the podium, you caught sight of your family in the crowd, their faces beaming with pride. You waved at them, half-laughing and almost crying from the surge of emotions.

The announcer’s voice boomed across the rink, breaking your trance. “In second place, it is Mia Johnson!”

Mia jumped up onto the podium, her expression a mix of disbelief and joy. “At least I’m on the podium!” she called out, her laughter ringing in your ears.

“And in third place, we have Jenna Taylor!” The announcement sparked another round of applause, and as Jenna took her place, you readied yourself.

The excitement was palpable, but you felt a familiar flutter of nerves. You had to go up next, and this was the moment you’d been waiting for.

The host stepped forward, and all eyes shifted to you, a wave of silence falling over the crowd like snowflakes drifting to the ground.

“And in first place, it is Y/N L/N!”

You could hardly contain yourself as you leaped onto the podium, arms outstretched and a broad grin plastered on your face.

Cheers erupted like an explosion, and the applause felt like a physical blanket wrapped around you, warming your heart even amidst the chill of the rink.

As the medal was draped around your neck and the camera flashed, a sense of pride swelled within you. This wasn’t just an achievement; it was the culmination of years of hard work, determination, and a thousand early mornings driven by your passion for the ice.

After the ceremony concluded, you made your way outside of the rink—still buzzing from the final adrenaline of the performance, the applause ringing in your ears like a joyful chorus.

You needed to breathe, to process everything, but before you could step too far into your thoughts, a familiar voice called out to you.

You also needed to know how Franco finished in his race. It was a shame that he couldn't be here right now to celebrate but you know he was probably suffering in his media duties.

You had made it; your journey as a skater had culminated in this triumphant moment of glory.

You stood in the middle of your team, your heart swelling with pride. Cameras flashed as everyone posed with the medals, capturing the moment for posterity.

Each smile, each laugh, each joyful expression created a beautiful cacophony of success. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike.

Just as you were about to step away for a candid candid shot, Lauren, your manager, stepped into your line of sight, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“Hey, turn around for me!” she exclaimed, her voice cut through the celebratory noise with authority.

You narrowed your eyes, momentarily confused but eager to comply. “What for?” you asked, glancing back at her with a teasing pout, but her gaze was insistent, her gesture animated.

You turned, spinning on your skates, a smile still on your lips from the excitement.

And then, time felt like it froze. Standing there, just a few feet away, was Franco, your boyfriend. He was holding an enormous bouquet of flowers that dwarfed him, its vibrant hues almost electric against the acidic blue of the rink.

The bouquet was a kaleidoscope of colors, mostly filled with your favorites: soft lavender orchids, deep blue hydrangeas, and delicate red roses, the very ones you’d mentioned to him months ago as a blush crept into your cheeks.

“Congratulations, amor! I told you I would make it!” he exclaimed, his grin wider than the expanse of ice before you.

Franco stood out not only because of the grand bouquet he was wielding, but his passion seemed to ignite the air, drawing every eye towards him.

Your heart raced—a joyful shock and a wave of warmth coursed through you. “Franco!” You gasped, your hands instinctively running through your hair as you ran toward him, leaving behind the jubilant crowd.

You felt like a child on Christmas morning, caught off-guard by an unexpected gift.

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in the fragrant blooms, inhaling deeply as if the scent alone could capture this moment eternally.

Franco chuckled, the sound rumbling softly in his chest. “You’re amazing! I knew you’d take home the gold!”

Pulling back to take him in, you brushed tiny remnants of ice from your hair and gazed deeply into his warm brown eyes. “I can’t believe you came. I thought you were going to be in media duties all day!”

He waved a dismissive hand, “I made them hurry up. I couldn't miss this. Not for anything,” he insisted, his gaze steady and earnest as he held the bouquet out to you.

“These are just a small token of my love. You deserve more than I can ever give you.”

“You're the best!” you breathed, still overwhelmed. As you took the bouquet from him, your fingers brushed against his, sending a ripple of electricity through your body.

You caught the attention of your teammates who were now grouped around, playful envy written across their faces.

“Can you even top that?” one of them teased, nudging your shoulder with an exaggerated wink.

Franco flashed an innocent grin, pulling you closer into his side, his warmth wrapping around you. “Oh, I can think of a few ways,” he fired back playfully, and laughter erupted around you.

“Once the cameras leave, I want a private celebration—just you and me,” you whispered, tilting your head up toward him, your playful tone hiding a genuine yearning.

“Absolutely,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “But first, I think you owe me a victory dance on the ice.”

You narrowed your eyes, feigning indignation. “A victory dance? What do you think this is, some cheesy movie?”

“Cheesy? Nah, it’s romantic!” he insisted, a teasing grin playing at the corners of his mouth. You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

With a dramatic flair, Franco led you back toward the center of the rink, the bouquet clutched in your hand like a trophy of your own victory.

As the laughter of your teammates faded into the background, the two of you spun around, gliding across the ice, arms raised high for a moment of carefree abandonment.

“Okay, okay!” you shouted, breathless from the joy of it all. The icy ground beneath your skates felt less like a challenge and more like an expanse of possibility. “But first, you need to wow me with your skating skills!”

Franco narrowed his eyes dramatically, taking a moment before he pulled off a series of impressive spins and moves that left you clapping enthusiastically.

“Ta-da!” he announced with a flourish, bowing comically as he stumbled slightly on the last move.

“You’re unbelievable,” you chuckled, more enamored than ever. “Why did I ever doubt you?”

He skated over to you easily, the applause still ringing in his ears. The twinkle in his eyes spoke volumes, and the delight on his face made your heart swell.

“You wouldn't believe how many lessons I took to just do that, amor,” he said, his breath coming out in little puffs against the chilly air.

“You took lessons?” you whispered, placing a hand on his cheek, your thumb grazing the stubble there. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the icy surroundings, making you feel a spark inside.

“I knew you were going to win, so I had to learn for you,” Franco muttered, placing a hand on your waist and drawing you close.

Laughter filtered through the air again as you lightly patted his cheek. “Cut it out. You’re going to make me blush!”

“I can’t help it,” he grinned. “You’re radiant, especially in this moment. Just look at you, the National Champion. You deserve the world!”

You felt the heat in your cheeks intensify. “Okay, okay! But you helped me reach it!” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before continuing, “Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone else standing here with me.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, stepping closer, his hand finding a home on the small of your back, drawing you into him.

You could feel the world fade away, the cheers and the noise rolling into the background. The ice felt solid beneath your feet, grounding you as you lost yourself in his gaze. “Franco, I—”

But before you could finish, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a hesitant dance of two souls intertwining, before passion ignited it into something deeper, something that sent fireworks dancing in your chest.

When he pulled away, breathless, you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he confessed, running a nervous hand through his hair. “But I didn’t want to distract you before the competition.”

“Distract me? Not at all! I needed a distraction from all the pressure!” you teased lightly, still lost in the lingering warmth of his lips against yours.

Franco chuckled, drawing you closer still, your bodies almost fitting perfectly against one another. “Well, hopefully that distraction was a winning one,” he replied playfully.

“Definitely! Maybe I should have put it in my training! ‘Ice skating: 25% skill, 75% kissing my boyfriend.’”

He erupted into laughter, eyes twinkling with delight. “I’d be honored to provide the kisses,” he said, his voice a low rumble that enveloped you, making you feel warm in a way you had never quite experienced before. . . .

[cheriladycl01]

Oh my god will you just shut up? - George Russell x ‘Annoying’! Reader

Plot: George gets easily frustrated, and you just happen to push all of his buttons

Warnings: I don’t want you guys to be out off by the annoying aspect of this. Reader isn’t actually annoying she just catches George at bad moments and does things he doesn’t want her too do.

“George, George come look at this!” You exclaim finding something funny on your phone. He was in the garage going through data alone. It was a lot later and there wasn’t many people left here in the paddock.

George hadn’t had a great race. Scratch that. He’d had an awful race coming in P15 after some cooling issues and his tyres just shredding on the tracks. He’d come out of the car so annoyed.

You’d done everything you normally do after a bad race. You’d made a checklist just to make sure you remembered everything he would want.

A kiss. Check

A hug. Check

Bottle of Water. Check

His fav chocolate. Check

Hearing how proud you were of him. Check

He’d gone off after all this with a sour look on his face, a light hand on your shoulder nudging you away as he goes to talk to his team principle. They hash it out and you watch the interaction. He eventually storms off no doubt to go shower the sweat of the race off.

You wait patiently for him but when he comes out he doesn’t even take notice of you sat there politely on your phone making conversation with his teammate.

You weren’t really talking about anything in particular. Just general chatter, so when you’d seen your boyfriend go off in the opposite direction you excuse yourself from the conversation with Lewis running after him.

“George! George slow down” you shout after him catching up to him and looping your arm through his.

“I’m going to study data. Go back to the hotel” George says not even sparing you a glance.

“It’s fine I don’t mind waiting. I’ll just watch” you smile happily sitting on the chair a few away from him.

You start your phone up, reading from your kindle app but an hour goes by at you start to get bored. You make the executive decision that it’s time to doom scroll on TikTok. You get the app up and are immediately met with a common TikTok sound.

“Will you turn that off it’s distracting” George says with an exhausted look on his face, you nod, pulling your AirPods out and watching it without distracting George.

But you see one video that you really wanted to show George.

“Not now. Busy” he says and you just shimmy back down into your seat with a huff. You save the video despite your initial agitation wanting to show him later if not now.

“When will you be done?” You ask after another 20 minutes.

“Soon” he says without looking up from the papers this times his eyes fixated between the data filled sheets and the screen in front of him.

“Okay, just because we should both probably eat” you test the waters seeing if you can temp him to leave with the promise of a nice meal out.

“Not hungry” he mutters and you can hear the grit in his voice.

“Mmm well I kinda am” you mutter.

“Go get something then” he huffs out as if it’s obvious.

And you do, you wonder off into the hospitality where they’re cleaning up and shutting down shop. You smile at the barista asking for anything left. She hands you over some orange slices and grapes and a cake. Both would satisfy your cravings and hunger. You brought the plate back pushing the slice of cake next to George who doesn’t even turn at the noise.

“George baby, have some cake that was a tough race” you speak and his head snaps to you.

“Oh my god will you just shut up! So annoying!” He shouts looking at you with squinted eyes. The grape that was in your mouth is silently swallowed as you nod, standing up in your chair.

“Guess I’ll just leave you too it then” you smile tucking your chair in and walking away out the door.

“No baby wait come back!” George says realising just how harsh he had been.

“I’m going back to the hotel. Finish up here” you say softly. Tentatively reaching out for him, hesitating as he flinches a little. You decide against patting his shoulder with your hand turning to leave instead.

You make your way back to the hotel, having a shower and changing into comfy pijamas before tucking yourself into the freshly made hotel bed.

An hour later the beep of the door sounds, the realisation that someone, most likely George, was coming into the room.

“Baby?” The voice calls out and you make a muffled sort of groan to let him know where you are.

You hear him tracking across the carpeted floor, some clothing movement before the bed dips on the opposite side to you. You feel him move around behind you before wrapping you up in his arms.

“I’m so so sorry about earlier. I was just stressed. And I know that’s no excuse for what I said, but …” he trails off as he rubs his fingers up and down your arm, before reaching up to gently play with your hair.

“I love you. Please talk to me” he asks again.

“Why should I? You didn’t want to give me the time of day earlier” you say with a scoff turning round to look at him.

“I know and I’ll never do that again. I regretted it the minute I called you annoying! You’re like the least annoying person I know. You’re caring and kind and … I’m so so sorry” he sighs kissing your forehead.

“I know you are. And it’s okay. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell at me” you say quietly looking up at his relaxed face. It was nicer than the strained and tense face he had earlier on.

“I’ll never raise my voice at you again. I - god I can’t believe I acted like that earlier. You didn’t deserve that at all” he answers pulling you in for a hug ducking his face into your neck.

“I forgive you. I knew you were just stressed. That’s the only reason I left to give you space. But I knew you’d come to your senses the minute you said it. I love you too” you sigh. The tenseness in your shoulders leaves and you happily nuzzle into him.

“Thank you” he murmurs into you before you both drift off to sleep.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[maybankswhore]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑.

summary: rafe overhears you talking to sarah about your feelings and wants to take care of you.

warnings: mentions of depression and anxiety , rafe eavesdropping , little bit of swearing

You sighed at Sarah’s hand rubbing your back comfortingly as your face hid itself in your hands to hide your puffy eyes and red cheeks. You looked like a mess— and you felt how you looked. Everything just seemed so overwhelming , and there was such much pressure on you from your family. There were so many feelings that you kept inside because you hadn’t wanted to feel like a burden.

“I’m just so tired all the time.” You ranted to Sarah , wiping underneath your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m always so tired and so , so sad. Nothing seems to make it go away. I always feel this. . . this impending doom over me like something bad’s gonna happen. Like I’m going to fail and disappoint everyone.”

Sarah frowned. She definitely related that feeling and tried her best to figure out the right way to help you. Frowning , you pushed some hair away from your face. “Have you tried talking to Rafe?” Her face twisted up at the mention of her brother , but making sure to quickly wipe it away. Despite her own personal feelings towards him , Sarah knew that Rafe was good to you. The relationship he had with you was probably his only saving grace.

You shook your head at her. “No because Rafe’s not. . .” you struggled to find the right words. “Rafe shouldn’t have to deal with me like this. He already has so much on his own plate that a sad , depressing girlfriend should be the least of his worries. And I know he doesn’t like to see me cry because he feels too bad if he can’t make it stop.” You didn’t resent Rafe for not being the best person to talk to. You knew why he struggled with it and your stress shouldn’t fall onto his shoulders. You’d feel guilty adding on to everything else Rafe dealt with.

“Look I’m not the biggest fan of my brother,” Sarah muttered under her breath. “But I know that he cares about you , Y/N and he would want to be there for you. He’s your boyfriend—” she emphasized. “It’s kinda what he signed up for.”

As you cried , Rafe loomed around Sarah’s door. He didn’t want to eavesdrop , but he couldn’t stop himself from being concerned when he noticed your sniffles floating from the small crack in the door. Rafe wasn’t one to pry too much , too afraid it’d push you away. He felt his chest grow heavy as he listened to you vent to Sarah , hating you felt that way. He wanted to take every negative and sad thing in your brain and pluck it away. Store somewhere impossible to find and never feel again.

Pursing his lips , Rafe sighed as he knocked on the door softly to signal that someone was there. He lightly peaked around it , focusing on you. “Hey , baby. I’m home.” He smiled at you gently , feeling determined to try and be what you needed. Rafe wasn’t good at feelings but he would do anything for you and try again until he did it right.

You plastered on a fake smile when you saw him. Your heart warmed up just a little bit more at your boyfriend , feeling antsy to be in his arms. You mumbled a quick ‘thanks , sar’ before tapping her shoulder to walk out.

She gave you a smile in return , hoping that things would get better for you soon.

Rafe’s arm immediately snaked around your waist and pulled you to him and leading you down the hall. You tried your best to act normal , hoping that it was dark enough to conceal the mess you were sure painted across your face.

He waited until the door of his room closed before speaking. “You were crying.” Rafe’s thumb swiped underneath your cheekbone , a frown on his face.

“I know.” You whispered back. You grabbed his hand and kept it on your cheek , eyes fluttering closed at his touch. “’m was just sad for minute.”

“Sweet baby.” Rafe sighed , being gentle with his touch and words. His eyelashes fluttered against the apples of your cheeks when he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your face. “What’s wrong?”

As if his words were a trigger , tears started falling down your face. You threw your arms around his neck and just cried , shamelessly. You weren’t thinking of sounding stupid or crying in an ugly way. You weren’t embarrassed and you weren’t feeling guilty. You just cried. It felt good to finally feel it and not try and disguise it with other things. It felt good to feel Rafe’s arms tighten around you , the coos of him healing something deeply rooted in your soul.

You just wanted to feel comforted , and loved.

Rafe held you tightly as you did so , rocking you back and forth. The two of you stood there in the middle of the room with the only sound being the way you sobbed loudly in the crook of his neck. You didn’t even know what words could explain how you felt , so you didn’t even bother trying.

“My sweet girl,” Rafe mumbled into your hair. “Lay down with me.”

He easily slid the two of you backwards , quickly kicking off his shoes to get onto the bed. He left the covers tucked , his work clothes on— something he’d never allow any other time. All Rafe cared about was holding you so you didn’t feel so alone.

You let him move you towards the bed. He laid down flat while gripping at your hips , pulling you to straddle him. A sigh of contentment left your lips as you laid down , chest to chest , with your cheek against his cheek. It was so close that you felt the warmth of his breath on the side of your neck , sending shivers down your spine with each exhale. It was suffocatingly close— and just what you needed.

His hands rubbed your back as you calmed down , laying there next to him. The sound of his breathing was like a lullaby , shushing your nerves to sleep as you listened to it carefully. Your breathing pattern began to mimic his and you almost mistaked Rafe Cameron as some sort of drug you were warned about at school assembly’s.

“Thank you.” You breathed , after what seemed like hours of just laying there compared to the minutes it actually was. “I’ve just felt so overwhelmed lately. And everything’s making me sad. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Rafe stopped you , craning his neck down to look at you. He stared into your ears with scrunched brows , a finger to your chin. “Don’t ever apologize to me for that.”

“Okay.” You mumbled back. You grabbed his hand to kiss his thumb.

“It’s what I signed up for.” Rafe breezed it in , hoping you wouldn’t be mad at him. The air becoming light hearted when you rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his chest.

“You’re such a jerk!”

[cinnaleaf]

「 Holidate | A Very Merry Footballer Ficmas 」

summary: you agree to fake date trent to save his image during the holiday season, but the lines on the contract start to blur | MDNI 18+

warnings: fake dating trope, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, language, smau, lighthearted angst, banter, kinda chaotic, **extended fam briefly mentioned are fictional 🎅🏾: sleigh got stuck in traffic so i’m late, forgive me | finale of my ficmas series wc: ~13.8k

You were halfway through your second cup of coffee, scrolling through emails like you usually did in the morning, when a peculiar email popped up.

From: Tyler Alexander-Arnold

Subject: Collaboration Proposal

You squinted at the name, thinking it sounded vaguely familiar but you weren’t sure why until it clicked. Trent Alexander-Arnold’s older brother. The footballer. You groaned, already feeling like there was going to be utter nonsense attached to the message. Athletes in your DMs and emails were nothing new, but they usually wanted shoutouts or some ‘collab’ that was a thinly veiled way of sliding into your messages for a hookup. You weren’t about to entertain a guy who thought sending his club’s match tickets was romantic.

But curiosity got the best of you:

Hi Y/N, I hope this email finds you well. My name is Tyler and I manage my brother, Trent Alexander-Arnold. PLG has followed your work for a while and we’re impressed by your authentic and engaging brand. I wanted to reach out with a unique proposal that I believe could be mutually beneficial. Trent is looking to shift his public image after recent media challenges, and we believe a collaborative effort with someone like you could help him accomplish this. The idea involves a short term arrangement posing as Trent’s girlfriend during the holidays with the possibility of extending the partnership into next year. We understand your time and reputation are valuable and will ensure all aspects of this arrangement align with your standards. Compensation and details are attached for your review. I look forward to hearing from you. Best regards, Tyler Alexander-Arnold

You stared at the screen, mouth slightly open. You had your fair share of wild pitch ideas before, but this was...new. A footballer fake boyfriend? For what? And why you?? You weren’t even the type – at least not for the girlfriend aesthetic they usually went for.

You scrolled down to the attached terms and your jaw dropped at the six figure amount of total compensation, and that wasn’t even including the performance bonus. The number was so pretty you wanted to print it out just to stare at it physically. A six month contract to ‘date’ Trent with a minimum of public appearances and the ability to control your own content. They were basically handing you all the creative freedom you demanded so often in every partnership you were ever a part of. But your pride was screaming at you. You built your brand on being authentic. Your followers trusted you because you weren’t fake. They would be able to sniff out any bullshit from you in milliseconds. You didn’t know if you could play it off that well.

Just as you were in your thoughts, doom scrolling through Instagram, you landed on a post about Trent. 

SpillTheBeansUK: Trent Alexander-Arnold spotted partying at 4 am while Liverpool struggles on the pitch. Distraction much? 

mintleaf: WHERE the FUCK is TYLER

realmrsTAA: he’s just having fun you miserable lot. leave my man alone 😤

YNWA_forever: he’s out clubbing while salah’s carrying the club? embarrassing look as vice cap

oh_shes_nosy: 4 am? with who though?? 👀 don’t let it be another ig baddie omg

ShutUpAndDefend: can’t defend on pitch but can defend a bottle of liquor fuck this guy

Footiebro: bruh just stay home and train. nobody asked for this shit wtf is his problem

DramaLlama12: this man said ‘defense’? never heard of her. shots at 4am? say lesssss

tumblrinagurl: need him to be so serious he’s messing up my fanfic posting schedule, follow the fucking script what the fuck

FPLQueen: this is exactly why i took him out of my fantasy team weeks ago. this is a big L

girl_shutup: not my man getting roasted while he’s just living his life 😭 y’all are haters fr

Shady_LFC: pov: you’re just a local lad from liverpool who wants to vibe

The entirety of the comments section was a battlefield. You sighed and toggled back to the email. It wasn’t your business what kind of PR storm he landed himself in, but if his camp was offering this type of money, he must’ve really fucked up.

Two days later, you found yourself in Manchester, sitting across from Tyler in a pristine meeting room at PLG. The room was sleek with chairs that looked expensive but were so uncomfortable. Tyler was polite but he didn’t look all that professional for someone who was supposed to be managing a high profile footballer.

“Uh, thanks for coming” he started, handing you a glossy folder. “I know it’s unconventional but I really think you’re the right person for this kind of arrangement.”

“Unconventional?” you raised an eyebrow, flipping through the paperwork. “Mate, this is unhinged. I’ve never had a request like this before.”

Tyler smiled sheepishly but just as he was about to respond, the door opened and Trent sauntered in. God forbid he enter the room like a normal person, he just had to be loud and obnoxious about it. He looked taller than you expected him to look, and he wore a tracksuit, totally unfashionable but it worked for him somehow. He nodded at Tyler before looking at you with an expression that was somewhere between bored and mildly annoyed.

“So this is her then, yeah?” Trent asked, as if you weren’t literally in the same room as him.

You leaned back in your chair, unimpressed. “And this is the guy who can’t keep his head on straight?”

Trent’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but refused to give you the satisfaction of it. Tyler exhaled, sensing there was likely more chaos to come from this little arrangement.

“Let’s stay focused” Tyler said firmly, pulling up the digital presentation he prepared. “The plan is to recalibrate Trent’s image and make him appear more serious and stable. Y/N’s audience aligns well with that narrative and her credibility can strengthen the likelihood of people believing this.”

“Sounds great” you said while closing the folder. “What’s in it for me though? Besides the headache.”

Trent snorted at your statement which earned him a glare from Tyler. “You’re getting paid aren’t you??”

“Trent.” Tyler replied sharply, then turned back to you. “There’s significant compensation and full creative control over your content. You also have the chance to build a connection with a large audience outside of your typical demographic. PLG will manage all the logistics and you don’t have to lift a finger unless you really want to.”

It was a good pitch, a lot better than you expected, but Trent’s attitude was already grating you. “I have one condition.” You snapped the folder shut dramatically and Tyler gestured for you to continue.

“I need your brother to at least pretend he’s interested in this. If he looks like he hates me in every picture my followers will clock it easily.”

Trent leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Relax. I’ll play nice.”

“You better” you shot back, grabbing your purse. “I’m not here to save your ass mate. I’m only doing it because the money is too good to pass up. And I actually know how to curate an image unlike you.”

Trent scoffed, rolling his eyes at your jab. “Curate an image? By doing what? Posting oat milk lattes and sunsets?”

“Try millions of people who actually care about what I say and what I buy” you fired back, standing up to adjust your bag strap. “But you? You’re lucky if anyone even reads your dry ass captions.”

Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose like he was deeply regretting his life choices. “Okay..enough. Both of you.” He turned to Trent with a warning expression. “Y/N is here to help you and we’re paying her a lot of money to make sure you don’t turn into a liability.”

Trent rubbed his hand over his forehead and crossed his arms, his smirk still in place. “Got it. I’ll be the perfect fake boyfriend.”

“You’re already bad at it” you muttered under your breath.

“Okay stop.” Tyler interrupted before Trent could come back with anything else. He stood up, motioning for you to sit back down. “We’ll need to go over specifics so you don’t mess up anything when this starts.”

“Right. Because I’m the one that’s gonna be a problem.” you answered back dryly, making Trent chuckle quietly. Tyler pulled up another presentation on screen with multiple bullet points and mocked up photos. “This is how this is gonna work. We’re going to start small with discreet hints like stories and maybe some pictures while you’re in Liverpool for the holidays. Make sure it’s subtle. Y/N, if your followers are eagle eyed we need to make sure it’s not too obvious at first.”

You nodded, already mentally calculating how to stage something that was lowkey but believable. “Got it. But what about him?” You jerked your thumb toward Trent, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but in the meeting room.

“He’ll match your posts,” Tyler said. “Simple stuff only though, like sharing ambiguous shots. Nothing too heavy.”

Trent scoffed and cocked his brow. “So what? Like a blurry picture of my trainers and call it a day?”

“Oh my god” you muttered, shaking your head. “You literally have no sauce. None. You’re so boring.”

“Moving on…” Tyler cut in before another argument could break out. “You’ll spend Christmas and Boxing Day with us at our family’s house in Liverpool. So you have to play the part for social media and for our parents, Marcel, and family friends. I’ll be the only one in on this.”

Trent frowned, not liking that idea at all. “Do they really need to be involved?”

“Yes.” Tyler answered matter of factly. “Because if we can’t convince them, then there’s no chance anyone else will believe it either.”

You raised your hand like you were in a classroom. “Mmk, quick question. What’s the backstory? How did we meet...how long have we been fake dating?”

Tyler pulled up a slide titled ‘Backstory’ and you glanced over it quickly, wanting to complain because it literally looked like he stole the idea from a girl blogger on the internet.

“You met at a private influencer event in London–”

Trent interrupted, “What’s an influencer event?”

You blinked at him. “Are you that fucking dumb?? There’s no way…”

“It’s like the stuff you post” Tyler deadpanned. “Clothes, photographers, influencers, models. Anyway...you hit it off, exchanged numbers and started seeing each other about four months ago and kept it lowkey because you wanted privacy.”

“Four months?” Trent questioned while frowning. “Isn’t that a little short?”

“Not when you’re a serial dating Libra…” you shot back. “And honestly the less time we pretend to have been together, the less likely we are to mess up the details.”

Tyler nodded. “Exactly that. But you still need to act like you’ve been dating for months. Know each other’s habits, inside jokes, favorite things.”

You tilted your head at Trent, narrowing your eyes. “Right. What’s your favorite food Trent?”

He looked like you asked him for the code to his house. “Um..protein I guess?”

“What? That’s not—I know you’re fucking lying” You slumped back in your chair, rubbing your temples from the regret. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Tyler ignored the tension and instead moved on. “After the holidays you’ll need to continue with the occasional post for the next month..just enough to keep the story alive online, but you don’t have to be seen with him publicly at all until February. We’ll do a hard launch in February with photos together and maybe a public appearance. After that, just a few photos online here and there.”

“And then we break up just in time for hot girl summer” you added, pretending it was a joke but it really wasn’t. You weren’t trying to let this affect your time on a yacht under the sun in Capri.

Trent smirked. “Hot girl summer??”

You gawked at him. “Meg the– wait are you serious? Are you on the internet at all??”

Tyler cut in with a firm voice. “Can you both shut up for two seconds? This will only work if it’s convincing. That means no fighting in front of people. Especially in public.” You rolled your eyes but stayed quiet, glancing over at Trent who was scrolling through his phone under the table. Probably googling himself knowing him.

After the meeting was over, you left the building with a heavy sigh that felt like it came straight from the soul. You couldn’t believe you accepted the proposal and were now under the contractual obligation to deal with Trent and his extensive attitude for the next six months. The cold air hit your face as you stepped into the car park and you pulled your purse closer as if to shield yourself from whatever chaos Trent was bound to bring in these next couple of months.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you groan internally. Speak of the devil.

“You always this fun or is it all for me?” His voice was smug, his accent rolled the words off in a way that made you have to pause just to think about what he said and that grated your nerves already. When you turned around, his hands were shoved into the pockets of his joggers, leaning against a black car. Of course he followed you out.

“Only for you mate. Consider it your welcome package..or an early Christmas gift” you deadpanned while still fumbling with your purse.

“Lucky me.” Somehow he made it sound like he meant it. Maybe he wasn’t all that clueless..or maybe he was just fucking with you.

“Don’t push it.” You yanked open the door of the hired car waiting for you, already done with his small talk.

“It won’t be so bad” he smirked, like it was some kind of joke to him. Like he wasn’t the one who needed this arrangement to clean up his trainwreck of an image.

“Just act like you’ve been somewhere before” You paused before you slid into the car. “Show up, smile, and don’t say anything stupid. That’s all I need from you. No more, no less.” You swung your legs in and reached for the door, about to close it, but his voice stopped you.

“Wait! What’s your favorite food?”

Your hand froze mid reach and you looked up to give him an unimpressed look. “Why?”

He shrugged, far too pleased with himself for someone whose job it was to not piss you off. “I think I should know. Seeing as I’m pretending to be the love of your life and all.”

The sheer audacity of this man was maddening. “Love of my life?? Please” you snorted. “I’m only mildly okay with you right now. I tolerate you. That’s it.”

“Ok. Fine. So what is it then?” he pressed, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes at nearly everything coming out of his mouth.

“Shrimp fried rice” you snapped, yanking the door shut. Through the tinted window you saw him grin and you shook your head, slumping into your seat as the car pulled off. You weren’t sure if it was the money, the challenge, or the audacity of Trent that made you agree to any of this.

Whatever it was, you knew it was going to be the longest six months of your life.

You made it to Manchester two days early to ‘acclimate’ as Tyler called it, but in all actuality you needed time to figure out how to make this situation feel less like reality TV. Posting subtle hints on Instagram was your first step. Just enough to start the speculation without turning everything into a circus. Your first story was a panoramic view of Manchester from your hotel room, where you left a cute caption about not being in London or Los Angeles for once. The comments rolled in nearly immediately. People wanted to know why you were in Manchester for the holidays, and whether it was for a brand deal, or a new beau. Your next story was a picture of your luggage, strategically unzipped to show a small piece of a Liverpool scarf tucked inside. You didn’t even caption it, you just let everyone draw their own conclusions.

Later that week, you were in the passenger seat of Trent’s car as he drove the both of you to Liverpool. It was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, the silence was just there. You had your airpods in, half tuned into a podcast, while he had one hand on the wheel and the other scrolling through a Spotify playlist, probably looking for some stupid Drake song to play.

“This is your plan then?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You pulled out one airpod and glanced at him. “What?”

“This instagram stuff.” He gestured toward your phone. “I saw your story. Not bad. Kind of dramatic though..don’t you think?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Says the one having a PR disaster so terrible he had get his brother to hire a fake girlfriend for him.”

Trent smirked, turning his eyes back to the road. “Ah, fair. But a Liverpool scarf is a lot. That’s gonna cause some shit.”

“That’s the entire point. My followers will be on it in minutes and by the time we show up at your parents’, half the internet will have think pieces about how we’re madly in love.”

“Madly in love?” He shook his head, laughing. “That’s overkill.”

You shrugged, looking through your camera roll for your next post. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

The Alexander-Arnold house was exactly what you imagined. It wasn’t obnoxiously huge but it was comfortable and cozy. The home’s exterior was decorated with Christmas lights and a wreath hung on the front door that looked handmade. 

You stood on the doorstep with bated breath. Trent was next to you with his hands shoved in his pockets, as unbothered as ever. If he was nervous about selling this relationship to his family, it didn’t really show.

“Ready?” he asked with a faint smirk.

“Are you?” you cocked your brow. “I’m not the one who waited until two days ago to mention I existed.” Trent winced but didn’t respond and instead pressed the doorbell. You didn’t know why he did that considering he could’ve just walked in. Maybe he was nervous. Either way, him not taking the responsibility over the fact that his mum would probably clock both of you had you annoyed. The door opened shortly after and his mum stood there, all smiles and festive. There was a look in her eye that told you she wasn’t buying any of this nonsense from the start. “Oh! You must be Y/N!” she greeted warmly, stepping forward and pulling you into a hug before you could even say hello. The hug felt genuine enough, but it also had that undertone of ‘lets see whats really going on here’.

You blinked, trying not to overthink things. “Hiii, so nice to meet you Mrs. Alex–”

“Dianne. Just call me Dianne” she interrupted, pulling back but keeping her hands on your arms while looking at you. “No need to be formal. You’re family for the holidays.”

Family. Right. That’s what this was. You were Trent’s ‘girlfriend’. You forced a smile, ignoring the way your stomach was turning as a result of her response. Trent’s dad appeared behind his mum and he gave you a firm handshake, but his expression was less warm and more reserved.

“Welcome. Glad you’re here to join us” he said simply.

“Thanks for having me” you replied, trying to keep your tone polite but still warm.

Marcel was leaning against the staircase in the hall with his arms crossed, displaying a shit eating grin plastered across his face. “So” he began, dragging the word out as he straightened up and walked over with a stroll. “You’re the random girlfriend that’s popped up out of nowhere.”

You felt your pulse spike but you forced yourself to laugh. “Yeah..I guess that’s me.”

“Hmm” he hummed, tilting his head. “Funny you’ve never been mentioned before until two days ago. Not even once.”

Your smile tightened and you glanced at Trent, hoping he would swoop in and save the day with something clever but he just stood there looking like he was vaguely amused by the whole thing.

“Marcel, don’t be rude,” Dianne warned lightly.

“I’m not!” Marcel kissed his teeth. “I’m just saying it’s mad he’s never mentioned her and now she’s here for Christmas. I don’t know this girl..never seen her a day in my life.” He turned back to you with a cheeky grin. “How’d you meet? Paris? Milan? Ibiza??”

You really wanted to knock Trent upside his head at this point but instead you gave a sweet smile. “At a private influencer event actually.”

Dianne laughed, knowing her son wasn’t serious enough to attend a private event like that. She looked at him, trying to figure out if all of this was bullshit. Marcel didn’t even try to hide his disbelief. “Yeah, sure. What was the event called?”

Your stomach dropped and you went wide eyed. You could’ve googled literally anything about Trent’s past couple of months to make this more believable, but you didn’t and clearly neither had he. You paused to think for a little bit, which was just long enough for Marcel to attack.

“Yeah that’s what I thought” he smirked.

“Alright that’s enough” Dianne interrupted, but it was clear she was waiting for that answer as well. “Marcel leave the poor girl alone.”

Michael cleared his throat and stepped in. “Dinner’s in an hour.”

By the time Christmas dinner rolled around, you sat down next to Trent, almost too distracted by the food to notice the tension brewing at the table, but then his mum’s voice cut through your distraction like a blade wrapped in sugar. 

“So Y/N..” She handed you a gravy boat with a fake smile. “How long have you two been together?”

“Four months” you answered with ease, remembering the backstory presentation. You looked at Trent for a brief moment to make sure he was following along.

“Three” Trent said through a mouthful of roasted potatoes while not even looking up.

You scrunched your face, blinking back disbelief. “Four.”

“No it’s three” he insisted, frowning as he reached for some rice. “September, right?”

“August” you corrected him through clenched teeth and kicked him under the table. His fork froze mid air and he finally looked at you. 

“August?”

“Yes” you hissed, trying to keep the forced smile on your face while glancing back at his mum, who was watching like a hawk. “The end of August.”

Trent shrugged, and went back to eating the food from his plate. “That’s basically September.”

“It’s really not.”

Dianne’s eyes darted between both of you with a smile still there, but curiosity very obviously piqued. “Strange..” she started lightly. “I don’t remember hearing about you in August or September. He didn’t mention you until just a few days ago.” Marcel almost choked on his drink from laughing, and even their dad chuckled to himself before taking a sip of his drink.

“I didn’t want to jinx it that’s all” Trent said casually while leaning back in his chair, still popping food into his mouth.

You glared at him. “Jinx it?”

“Yeah” he smirked, looking at you. “Didn’t wanna rush things y’know?”

You bit down on the side of your cheek to keep from snapping at him. He wasn’t following the script at all. He was barely trying, mostly hoping to coast on charm like it would cover all the gaping holes in your ‘love’ story.

“Right…” Dianne slowly spoke while arching her brow just enough to make you feel nervous. “So where did this event happen again?”

“London” you answered fast before Trent found a way to ruin that too, but he answered at the same time as you, with a completely different answer.

“Paris.” 

Marcel snorted into his drink, laughing so hard he started bumping the table and made the cutlery rattle. Across from you, their mum had a smile still on her face but the look on her face drilled right into your badly built backstory. She didn’t say anything, but you knew she had more questions when she eyed Michael with a knowing glance. You turned to Trent, narrowing your eyes at him and gave him another kick under the table that landed on his shin. He jumped forward and dropped his fork on his plate.

“London” you repeated in a tight voice with a smile that was more of a grimace. “We met in London at the influencer event.”

Trent nodded, rubbing his shin but still smirking, not taking any of this seriously. “Yeah London. The city with all the..... influencer stuff.”

Marcel nearly slid out of his chair from failing to keep his laughs at an appropriate volume at the table. Dianne looked at him with a warning but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand with an entertained look on his face. “Oh yeah?” he said grinning. “Since you’re so in love, what’s her favorite food then?”

You could see the gears in Trent’s head trying their very best to come up with an answer while he chewed his food. “Uhhh....” He drew the word out for so long you wanted to answer for him. “Shrimp fried rice?” You let out a soft exhale, surprised he actually listened in the car park. Marcel wasn’t impressed and tipped his head back to cackle.

“Took you long enough to answer.”

By this point, the entire family was trying to hide their laughs from the absurdity of the situation. Their dad even cracked a smile and shook his head as he passed a plate of roasted veggies to Marcel.

“Trent” Dianne dabbed her mouth with a napkin, still smiling. “You’re absolutely hopeless when it comes to relationships.”

“I’m not hopeless” he contested, glaring at Marcel who was still in stitches over the whole ordeal.

“Oh, love” you said sweetly, leaning in close enough to lower your voice. “You really are.”

He tilted his head, cutting his eyes at you but he had a playful look in his eye at the same time. “Careful. You’re supposed to be in love with me, remember?”

You smirked, raising your glass like you were doing a toast. “I must be a really great actress then.”

The sound of the door opening saved you from whatever dumb thing Trent was about to say. Tyler walked in a casual rush, juggling a reusable tote bag and his phone. “Sorry I’m late.” He slid in the chair next to Michael. His wife wasn’t far behind and had a baby on her hip, smiling to make up for Tyler’s disheveled state.

“Tyler!” Dianne exclaimed, momentarily distracted by her eldest child. “We were just about to have dessert. There’s plenty of food left, let me fix you a plate.”

“No need” Tyler replied while waving her off with a smile. His gaze shifted to you first, and then Trent. “You two alright?”

“Great.” Trent answered, dragging the word out in a very unbothered tone.

“Fantastic” you added, side eyeing Trent.

“Good..” Tyler clapped his hands together. “Because I brought something to make this whole thing even better.” From the tote bag, Tyler pulled out two neatly wrapped presents and handed one to both of you under the table with a wink.

“What’s this?” you asked in a whisper, frowning while trying to discreetly look at the tag.

“Just go with it,” Tyler whispered back. “It strengthens the story. Just act surprised.”

Trent shook the box in his hands like it came from the North Pole, fresh off the sleigh. “What is it?” he asked, too loud for the covert operation Tyler planned.

Marcel’s eyes lit up immediately. “Hey, what’s all that?”

“It’s nothing” you glared at Trent and then Marcel. “Just something we brought for each other.”

Dianne’s attention turned back to you and you felt her sizing up the gifts that had randomly appeared all of a sudden. “How thoughtful…”

You reluctantly tore into the wrapping paper. Inside, there was a Diptyque gift set and a pair of designer sunglasses from Jacques Marie Mage that were so exclusive they had yet to hit most influencer’s feeds. It was perfectly on brand and very believable. Trent unwrapped his gift with the same flair of a child. Inside was a custom bag from Goyard with his initials engraved, and a high tech Hypervolt massage gun that hadn’t been released yet.

“Nice” Trent exclaimed while holding both up like it was a trophy. “You have good taste baby.”

Baby?

The table paused collectively. Dianne’s eyes froze on both of you, Marcel peered at you over the rim of his glass, Michael leaned back with a curious look on his face. Tyler gave you a subtle thumbs up from across the table and you wanted to strangle him.

“Baby?” you repeated in a confused tone. “Where did that come from?”

“Just felt right. Don’t you think?” Trent shrugged with a smirk.

You clenched your teeth, glancing over at the baby that was now side eyeing you too. You gave her a sweet smile and she frowned at you more. “Oh it’s perfect.”

Michael broke the silence with a hearty laugh. “Well..it’s nice to see you two so close.”

“Oh, we’re close” you said quickly, giving Trent a look that could kill.

“Basically inseparable” he added, winking as he set the gifts on the table. Tyler cleared his throat to try and get the conversation back on track. “So, Mum..what’s for dessert?”

Thank god Dianne didn’t press any further after Tyler’s distraction, but you knew this was far from over. When no one was watching, Trent leaned toward you in a low and smug voice. “Relax. You’re doing great.”

You didn’t even bother looking at him because you were so annoyed.

“Stick to the script or I swear I’ll throw one of these Diptyque candles at your head.”

Trent chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Looking forward to it…..baby.”

By the time dinner was over, you walked upstairs to kick off your heels and Trent had already claimed the bathroom. You could hear the sound of running water and his terrible singing drifting through the door as you sat on the bed, laying out your carefully curated skincare routine: cleansing oil for your makeup removal, glycerin cleanser for moisture, red light therapy, centella toner, hyaluronic acid serum, eye serum, ceramidin moisturizer, a spritzer of atobarrier cream mist, and a sleeping lip mask. You lined them up on the table like little soldiers. When Trent finally came out of the shower, his towel was wrapped around his hips and he paused mid step, staring at your collection of bottles and jars.

“What the hell is all of that?” he asked, pointing with his toothbrush still in hand.

“It’s called flawless, glass skin” you shot back, reaching for the oil cleanser and heading to the bathroom. He leaned against the wall with a smirk. “You look like a chemist.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it” you ignored him as you massaged the oil cleanser into your skin. “This is why I look like this” you gestured to your face, “and you’re just...you know.”

Cute? He was cute. But there was no need to gas him up.

“Just what?”

“Nevermind.” you muttered, grabbing your face towel.

“Nah. Finish it. Go on” he teased, stepping gloser. “Already halfway there anyway.”

You glared at him. “If you don’t get out of my face…” Trent turned to adjust the towel around his hip and it slipped. The towel fell on the floor and his dick was in full display. Not bad honestly – thick with a slight curve that was...kind of aesthetically pleasing. Your mouth dropped before you could realize and you turned around so fast you almost knocked over a serum bottle.

“Oh my god! Trent!”

“What?” he asked, way too casual for someone who just flashed you. “It’s just skin. You’re acting like you’ve never seen one before.”

“Not the point!” you yelled, keeping your eyes firmly on the wall while he laughed. Eventually, he bent down to grab the towel and you could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again.

“Chill. Don’t act like you weren’t curious about it anyway. Gonna post my dick report anonymously online now?”

You turned back to glare at him now that he was safely wrapped back in the towel. “Please. I’m sure the girls you were with at 4am have already done that for you. Just..don’t let it happen again or I’m actually going to gouge my eyes out.”

He grinned at you, strolling over to the bed like he didn’t just traumatize you. “You’re dramatic. It’s cute.”

After the dick debacle, you climbed into bed, muttering under your breath about boundaries and respect. Trent flopped down next to you while scrolling through his phone without a care in the world.

“You’re actually so annoying” you said while setting up the perfect soft launch shot.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one a few times,” he replied without looking up.

You ignored him to focus on the picture. It was supposed to be subtle, yet strategic: your skincare bottles glowed under the warm light from the lamp on the bedside table. In the background, Trent was slightly blurred from the setting, yet identifiable as he laid on the bed, legs crossed with his phone in one hand. The caption you added: ‘never let santa stop this slay, skincare always 🎄✨’. By the time you posted the story, your phone was already pinging because SpillTheBeansUK had posted it with a quickness.

SpillTheBeansUK: Who’s the mystery man in Y/N’s background? The skincare? Impeccable. The vibes? Cozy. But that ARM…who’s claiming it? 🕵️‍♀️

ynstan99: WAIT. WHO IS THAT IN THE BACKGROUND?

liverpoolbabe01: that’s defo liverpool and that’s trent’s fam’s house i recognize it bc my mum’s cousin’s best friend’s sister’s brother in law lives just across the road omg she bagged a footballer???

nosygirlfc: GIRL WE KNOW THAT’S TRENT WE’RE NOT DUMB

“What are you posting?” Trent asked, glancing over at your screen.

“Work” you replied simply, turning your phone toward him. “You see that? That’s how you soft launch.”

He studied the story for a bit and nodded while smirking. “Not bad. My turn.”

“You’re posting something?”

“Yup” he replied plainly, scrolling through his camera roll. Minutes later he posted a random photo of his feet propped on a coffee table next to the Christmas tree downstairs, with your phone case barely visible at the edge of the frame that he took earlier. His caption was lame and boring: Holiday vibes.

“That’s so pathetic” you shook your head.

“It’s subtle,” he argued, leaning back against the pillows.

“It’s lazy” you argued back, setting your phone off to the side.

“Lazy works.” He turned off the light, smirking. You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond and pulled the blanket up while turning away from him. The room went quiet before he broke the silence with his sarcasm just as you were starting to drift off to sleep. “Night, my love.”

--

You should’ve known Boxing Day wasn’t going to be about lounging around in pajamas and eating leftovers while scrolling through Instagram in peace. Not when Tyler was involved.

The man had sent a fully detailed itinerary to both of you at an ungodly hour that morning, outlining what he dramatically called ‘The Boxing Day Stroll’. The plan was to head to Manchester, walk around casually, and let the pre-arranged paparazzi do their thing. Of course it wouldn’t be all that easy because the man had already messed up damn near everything else in this facade.

“Just act natural” Tyler said while driving you over to the staged area. “And look like you can’t get enough of each other.” As the car pulled to a stop, you glanced over at Trent who was slouched in his seat, lazily scrolling through a dating app on his phone when he was supposed to be fake dating you.

“You do remember what we’re doing, right?” you asked.

“Walking” he said without looking up.

“Walking and looking like we’re deeply, madly, dangerously in love” you corrected him. “So don’t glare, or pout, and don’t say anything idiotic when someone asks what my name is.”

Trent finally looked up and his lips curved into that same infuriating smirk that pissed you off. “You’re very bossy, you know that?”

“And you’re very bad at following directions.” you argued back.

“Relax baby. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Don’t call me baby” you muttered while pulling the car door open before he could irritate you anymore than he already had.

The city was packed with people entering storefronts, couples and families carrying bags from Boxing Day sales, and kids running around screaming from sugar rush. The holiday vibes were still in full force and picturesque enough for you to almost forget the cameras until you heard the sound of a shutter. You tensed and looked over to the source of the sound but Trent was still unbothered by it, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He must’ve done these before. He annoyingly looked good even though all he did was throw on whatever was closest. Meanwhile, your fit was carefully curated and you wore a cute co-ord jumper over a wool coat, jeans, chocolate brown booties with a ribbed fold over knit fabric, a crossbody bag, and assorted jewelry from PR packages you received.

“Hold my hand” you whispered through clenched teeth with a frozen smile while passing a group of shoppers.

“What?”

“Hold. My. Hand.” you repeated with a forced expression while waving at an eager little boy who looked more interested in Trent than you. He rolled his eyes but reached for your hand. His palms were warm and comforting, annoyingly enough.

“Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” you replied through your fake smile, tilting your head to pretend you were saying something cute instead of wanting to knock him upside his head. As you walked down the street, you could see the paps positioning themselves and whispering about different angles. You stopped in front of a shop window that had the most gorgeous jewellery and pretended to admire a necklace while pulling Trent closer.

“That one’s nice” you pointed to a random piece on display.

“Eh. Too shiny.” he glanced at it for all of two seconds.

You side eyed him. “Too shiny?? It’s a necklace.”

“Yeah. It looks tacky as fuck” he smirked.

“You think that’s tacky?” you cracked back. “You don’t even know how to dress. You have multiple pairs of the same trainers and tracksuits. That’s tacky.”

“Nah. They’re not all the same. Some of them are for athletic wear and the others are for leisure. There’s a difference.”

You almost laughed but quickly covered it with a cough instead. This man was ridiculous in his own way, and it was kind of endearing. When you turned the corner to a quieter street, the paps pretended to be hidden behind strategically placed stalls, waiting for the perfect shot. “Okay..” you muttered, leaning into Trent just enough to be believable. “Let’s just make this quick. Look at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Not too hard to do. You’re easy on the eyes.”

You lost your steps for a little and muttered, “Don’t overdo it,” brushing a nonexistent strand of hair from your face to behind your ear. “Just be calm.”

“I’m calm” he countered, lightly grazing his thumb over your knuckles. “You’re really committed to this shit, huh?”

“Well..your management team is paying me for this so yeah..I am” you tightly smiled. The cameras kept taking photos but you didn’t look toward them this time so that they could get exactly what was needed. The pictures hit the interwebs almost instantly and they were good. There was a candid of you mid laugh as Trent looked at you with a soft expression and melting grin. The second one was a close up of your hands intertwined while you leaned into him. The angle it was taken in made it look like you were sharing a private moment in the middle of a crowded street. The final picture was of Trent breaking off a piece of chocolate and feeding it to you while smiling in a cozy corner of a small shop. That wasn’t planned though, the joy from that was the real deal.

Before you made it back to the car, Tyler was already in the group chat, hyping both of you up. The pictures were reposted by SpillTheBeans too:

SpillTheBeansUK: Trent Alexander-Arnold spotted out with influencer Y/N L/N looking very cozy in Manchester on Boxing Day. Rumour has it, this love story started a few months ago...Any thoughts, Beans? 👀

ynstan99: sobbing, crying, throwing up. LOOK AT THEM

whatRUonabt: PR but i can’t even hate she’s gorg and they look good

reds4vr_: not convinced after that stunt he pulled last week during match. this is obviously fake news to get us off his back

chirpchirp: she’s just like me fr but i can hold his hand better footiebro: she’s leng but i hope bro isn’t serious he’s got too many distractions

giseleeee_: i give it 3 months before they announce a break up this is fake as fuck

plsbereal: imagine him holding her camera silently while she films vlogs and ootd’s i’m screaming 🥺

YNsquad: i can’t wait until she posts her next chaotic story and he’s in the background. confirm it queen!!

You scrolled through all the chaotic comments, shaking your head as Trent leaned in to peek at your screen. “What are they saying?” he asked, more invested than he wanted to let on.

“My fans think you’re obsessed with me” you held back your grin while showing him the comments.

“Nah. Other way around I think” he smirked, cocking his brow.

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes, still scrolling through your phone as the car pulled away. 

By the time midweek rolled around, you were wondering why you agreed to any of this. Sitting in the box at Anfield felt like you were walking into enemy territory. This was...cute, but not really your vibe. The launch strategy was working so Tyler insisted you show up to keep up this festive fairytale. The box was filled with WAGS and family members dressed up. You weren’t entirely out of place, your fit was eating theirs up rightfully so, but you still felt like a fish out of water every time someone looked at you for too long. You tried to make the most out of it and half an hour into the match, you posted a curated story of a video on the field, zoomed in just enough to show everyone on the field in clear view with the caption: not usually my vibe but i’ll allow it ⚽

The second slide was a chaotic close up of your freshly done nails in an almond shape holding a drink. The third was a shaky clip of the crowd cheering just as Trent assisted with a goal. It didn’t take long for you know who to start some mess.

SpillTheBeansUK: Y/N posts from the box after her Boxing Day photoshoot with TAA! Official or not? Let the investigations begin 🕵️‍♀️

loverpoolluvr: she’s just posting random stories. y’all are reading too much into it

overlibramen: how are you lot defending this? man has a new personality every week. let’s bffr

ynbabesfc: nails immaculate and she’s living rent free in your head and trent’s. COPE

sleuthysleuth: the timeline makes sense i’ve got the receipts and it tracks

trentsgfwannabe: i bet she doesn’t even like football and he deserves someone who can actually appreciate the sport

By the time you and Trent made it back to the house that night, you were drained to hell. The day was filled with forced smiles, cameras, and a lot of online chaos that you tried not to look at but ended up scrolling through anyway.

“You okay?” Trent asked in a softer voice than you expected for someone who supposedly didn’t care.

“I’m fine..” you mumbled while grabbing an oversized hoodie you borrowed from him earlier in the week and some pajama shorts. “I just feel like I’m so out of my element right now.” 

Trent had already claimed his spot on the bed and was scrolling through his phone with one hand and eating crisps out of the other. “You’re not that bad at it” he replied, looking up at you as you climbed on your side of the bed.

“Wow thanks” you responded dryly and grabbed one of the snacks he was holding out for you. You were both on your phones, scrolling through various apps while crisp bags crinkled noisily through the silence.

“…Do you ever get nervous or scared?” you asked to break through the silence.

“Nervous or scared about what?” He set his phone down, looking at you with a confused look.

“Of losing yourself with all the fame. It’s like.. I’ve built this whole brand online on my own and I have an audience that trusts me a lot because my whole thing is based on being real with them. But this is....not real. And it feels wrong.” You gestured at him and then you. “I’m scared it’s going to ruin things for me.”

Trent nodded at you and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I get it. Everything I do on or off the pitch always feels like it’s for someone else. I don’t always know what I want. And I change my mind a lot.”

You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by what you assumed was honesty. “Really?”

“Yeah..” he leaned back against the headboard. “Feels like I’m a product and not a person sometimes. Sometimes I rebel every once in a while but I guess I took it too far this time.”

For the first time, you saw him as Trent and not some footballer with a PR disaster on his hands. “Well...at least we have this to bond over. Being fake together.”

He laughed then grinned at you with a wide smile. “Yeah...something like that.”

“It’s kind of weird though. Because for something so fake...it’s starting to feel like it’s...not. Since we’re together all the time and whatnot.”

Trent cocked a brow at your last statement. You opened your mouth to backtrack and say something snarky or petty, but your phone rang against the bedside table. The screen lit up with a facetime call and your stomach dropped when you saw the name.

Romeo Cruz.

Romeo was a rising singer in LA that had all the charm, charisma, and a voice that made every girl want to melt. He slid into your DMs months ago, and while it wasn’t anything super serious, there was definitely flirting going on, and it was FUN. You glanced at Trent who was also looking at your screen.

“Who’s that?”

You reached for your phone with hesitation. “Uhh..just someone I know. No biggie.”

Trent leaned back on the headboard with a clenched jaw. “Yeah? Someone important enough to facetime you at nearly midnight?”

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, answering the call anyway. “Romeo! Hey.” On the screen, Romeo appeared with tousled curly hair, a signature smile with dimples, a sharp jawline, and beautifully glowing, sun kissed skin. “Hey beautiful” he dripped in his velvety, deep and smooth voice. “Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry” your tone was a bit light, a little flirty, but you were nervous because Trent was right there, burning his eyes into the side of your face. “Life has been....busy. A little chaotic but you know me, I love that.”

Romeo noticed the tension inflicted in your voice and cocked his head back from the screen a bit in concern. “You good? Where are you? LA or London?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because Trent reached over and took the phone from your hands like it was his own phone. “She’s busy right now.” He answered for you in a flat tone, holding up the phone so Romeo could see him and his annoying smirk.

“Uh.. and who are you?”

“Her boyfriend,” Trent replied smoothly. “Thanks for the check in mate but she’s good. We’re in the middle of something.” He paused for the drama of it all and then looked at you.

Romeo had a look of disbelief and irritation showing on his face. “Well tell her to call when she’s–”

Trent didn’t let him finish and took the opportunity to cup your chin with one hand, pulling you into a kiss. For something that was fake it felt way too convincing. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his lips met yours. He didn’t pull away immediately, but when he did you were dazed and out of breath. Too stunned to speak. Romeo saw it all and Trent’s face lit up with the cockiest grin ever.

“Yeah I doubt that mate. She’ll be too tired.” He hit the button to end the call.

“What the fuck was that?” you stared at him, your mouth agape in shock.

“What?”

“What????” you repeated, the volume in your voice increasing. “You just kissed me and basically told him I’m taken..like I’m your actual girlfriend! What the fuck??”

Trent popped a crisp into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously and meeting your death glare with a calm look, then he shrugged. “Just following the script, remember?”

--

By New Years Eve, your public side of the bargain was winding down, but Trent was still annoying you more than ever, even after the kiss. The sound of him chewing in your ear was still echoing days later as you stood in front of the mirror of the hotel, adjusting your ponytail again. Your hair was slicked back with the ends flipped up in soft curls that bounced whenever you moved. You had two loose strands in the front. Your followers knew those strands as your ‘slut strands’ – a term you coined because whenever you had those two strands framing your face, things always ended up a little wild. Between the alcohol flowing at the NYE party, the DJ, and Trent by your side, you knew something was bound to happen. You were always a Chatty Cathy on the juice, and the strands were an unofficial warning label that signified you were about to be everyone’s best friend, or a major problem. You adjusted your dress and gave yourself a final look in the mirror. You were trying to give unbothered girlie with a hint of ruining someone’s life one drink at a time. You grinned at yourself, knowing you looked like you were that girl™.

Just as you were about to spritz your perfume, Tyler texted the group chat:

Start heading to the club. The event is popping off atm. Pap friendly corner is just outside near the bar’s exit so make it count.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Of course Tyler felt the need to micromanage the party from a distance while acting like he wasn’t the most hands off manager in the industry. He could barely schedule Trent’s interviews on time but was now suddenly invested in making this fake relationship seem so solid. You just wanted to have a good time and be free of this nonsense publically like your contract originally stated.

“I can’t believe all three of the Alexander-Arnold boys are this annoying” you muttered under your breath while putting your heels on. 

Your contract made it clear that New Year’s Eve was the grand finale for the public part of the facade. After tonight, you wouldn’t have to parade around looking like you were madly in love anymore. The plan was to silently pull back and make the relationship seem more private with the occasional story, casual mentions, and reposts every once in a while until June, where you would announce a breakup and be free of him for good. You grabbed your purse and headed for the door to meet Trent downstairs. If this was going to be the last time you had to fake it, you were going out with a bang..and you were going to have some fun with it too just to celebrate the end of this mess.

When you reached the lobby of the hotel, Trent was waiting for you and scrolling through his phone. He looked good, his trim was crisp, his fit wasn’t terrible, and he smelled amazingly good. He lowered his phone, eyeing you from head to toe with a clenched jaw.

“Damn” he voiced involuntarily.

You tried to avoid smirking and adjusted the strap of your dress but a smirk still appeared anyway. “That’s it? Just damn? I put a lot of effort in for this look…”

He licked over his lips and finally looked you in the eye. “Then you already know how you look.”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling great or else I’d make you say it with more enthusiasm.”

“Trust me” he started, running a hand over his head. “I’m enthusiastic but you don’t need a bigger head than you already have.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him to head to the car waiting outside, your heels tapping against the marbled lobby floor. “Shut up and come on. I can’t deal with you while sober tonight. I need a drink.”

By the time you made it to the club, it was already pure chaos. The bass was so heavy you could feel it in your chest as you walked through the VIP area. There were strobe lights flashing around, illuminating random moments of chaos. A group of footballers were trying to outdrink each other in a booth stacked with empty Clase Azul bottles, an influencer in a bright dress was dancing on a table with a sparkler in one hand, and a model was yelling at a bartender because she couldn’t find a tiny baggie of white substance she drunkenly left at the bar who knows how long ago.

When you and Trent walked in, heads turned and whispers cut through the air. His hand brushed against your back to keep up with the facade. The scent in the air was...interesting. It was a blend of liquor, sweat, perfume and the faint tang of weed smoke. You knew tonight was going to leave a mark whether it be on your reputation, your conscience, or both.

“Where’s Tyler’s pap friendly corner again?” you asked, leaning into Trent so you wouldn’t have to yell over the blaring music.

“Near the bar. But let’s grab a drink first.”

You followed him as the hem of your dress brushed against your thigh. The bar was wild. People were pushing against each other like they would run out of alcohol, or maybe they just really wanted the Getty Images watermark with a top face card photo to memorialize the end of the year. The bartender was busy juggling a bottle of Hennessy with one hand, and pouring multiple shots with the other hand, all while someone was yelling for espresso martinis from the corner.

“Champagne? Martini?” Trent asked, turning to you as you perched against the counter with your hips leaning into the wood.

You shook your head. “A round of shots from top shelf and a coconut water.”

“Uh...that’s specific.” He turned to the bartender, ordering for you and himself.

“It’s so I can get fucked up but still stay hydrated from the electrolytes.” Your hands grazed over the two strands of your hair, very diva like. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s my whole thing..it even went viral on tiktok. Don’t knock it til you try it.”

The drinks arrived quicker than you expected and you downed a couple shots immediately in between sipping the coconut water. Trent nursed his vodka soda with lime, scanning the room with his eyes.

“Don’t be boring” you said, gently shoving two shots closer to him.

“I’m not boring” he replied, eyeing the shots and the way your nails grazed against the top surface of the bar.

“Then prove it. Drink the shots and come dance with me.”

He shook his head before reaching for the shots and downing them both. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up and live a little” you quickly finished the last of your shots and coconut water and then grabbed his hand, leading him to the dancefloor as the curls in your ponytail bounced between the bass reverberating through the club.

The crowd on the dance floor was just as chaotic in a sea of gyrating bodies and heat. You were too tipsy to be sure of what the DJ switched the song to, but it felt seductive and made you sway your hips automatically. The music took control before your brain could even think about it. You turned toward Trent, moving your body to the beat with ease while he watched. He was locked in, staring at you so hard it almost looked like he didn’t realize he was eyeing you like that.

“You’re really not gonna dance?” you teased, tilted your head as you stepped closer with a flirty smirk.

“I told you I don’t–”

“Shut up Trent” you playfully grabbed his hand and pulled him further into the crowd. “Just dance with me.”

As the alcohol coursed through you, you let your hips find the beat, rolling against him with just enough pressure to test him. You felt him tense up behind you, holding his hands just above your waist like he didn’t know whether to grab you or run away.

“Aren’t you Jamaican?” you yelled over your shoulder with a smirk. “Just relax and let the beat find you.”

He let out an exhale and finally rested his hand on your hip. You arched back a little, grinding into him more and his other hand landed on your ass. His body was betraying him and his breath quickened, trying to think of anything else but your ass grinding against his dick so he wouldn’t get hard. His jaw was tight but then his lips parted when his eyes dropped to the way you were rolling your hips against him. He was barely blinking as he stared. Trent’s grip tightened just enough for you to become aware of it.

“You like dancing, don’t you?” you teased again.

“This isn’t dancing.”

“No?” you dared, grinding against him harder. “Then what is it?”

Trent’s fingers dug into your waist and pulled you up against him. His head dipped closer to your neck and he bit his lip like he was fighting the urge to kiss you there. The lines were quickly blurring in the fog of alcohol and you weren’t sure who was pushing harder to cross them. His breath was hot against your neck as you danced up against him. You felt something stiffen against his lower half but you were so tipsy you thought it was his phone. Trent abruptly pulled back, letting go of you as you stood there confused.

“I need a drink.” He turned back toward the crowd, leaving you standing there trying to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding and your body was bouncing with energy that had nowhere to go thanks to the shots and coconut water you had. Before you knew it, a voice yelled your name, but it wasn’t Trent.

It was Levi Colwill.

“Ahh, Y/N! Trent’s better half” Levi slid into Trent’s place, handing you a shot. “Got your favorite.”

You handed it back to him, forcing a smile. “Levi…”

“You look like you could use some better company” he eyed the outline of your body. “Not that Trent’s bad but..you know I’ll dance with you. Just saying.”

You rolled your eyes but still laughed at him...because you were drunk. “Still stirring the pot like always.”

“You know that’s what I do” He downed the shot you refused. “What you been up to? I know you’re exhausted pretending to be with Trent.”

The alcohol made you bolder. “You get me! He’s so annoying sometimes.”

Levi stepped closer, yelling into your ear over the music. “You know where to find me. Send me a DM when it’s all–”

“Levi” Trent slurred in an irritated tone. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Levi shook his head, sipping the drink in hand and then smirked at Trent. “I was just saying hello.”

Trent gripped your wrist firmly but not painful as he pulled you away from Levi and into a quieter corner of the club, which just so happened to be near the bar’s exit where the paps were waiting for the perfect moment to take pictures.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed, yanking your arm free.

“What was what?” Trent snapped back.

“Dragging me away like some jealous boyfriend. That’s not part of the script Trent.”

Trent’s jaw clenched and he stepped closer, leaning into your ear. “You were enjoying that too much. We’re supposed to be together..you can’t flirt with other guys here.”

You laughed, not believing your ears. “Are you dumb?! You walked away like you couldn’t handle it! I’m just trying to have fun tonight.”

“I walked away because you were making me hard.” he shot back in a drunken state, not realizing what he just admitted to.

Your brain short circuited under the fog of alcohol as the music thumped around you. All you could focus on was the thought of Trent standing in front of you, hard, because you danced on him. Then your brain took it a step further and you remembered the night his towel slipped. You had a split glimpse of him on soft and now your tipsy mind was wondering what it looked like on hard. You felt the heat from your cheeks trail down slowly, making your mouth feel dry and knees weak. You were trying to think of literally anything else but the alcohol coursing through your veins wasn't doing you any favors and neither was the way he was looking at you. Trent’s teeth pulled at his bottom lip like he was fighting his thoughts too. You shifted closer to him, playing with a strand of hair framing your face.

“Trent..” you began in a whisper. You didn’t know if you wanted to apologize, flirt, or tell him to just kiss you. His head dipped toward yours as his lips inched toward yours slowly. You were leaning in without even realizing it and his hands hovered over your waist hesitantly. Your eyes dropped to his lips and you saw him lick his lips like he was priming them.

“Y/N!”

A shrill voice broke through whatever was about to happen and you blinked back as someone grabbed your arm. It was another influencer you knew from a brand event but you couldn’t remember her name in your drunken state. She grinned and hugged you like she didn’t just ruin the most dramatic non-kiss of your life.

“Oh my days, girl I haven’t seen you in forever!” she yelled, dragging you toward a VIP booth that was probably just as chaotic as the rest of the club. Trent stood there with an unreadable expression watching as you were pulled away. He turned his gaze to the paparazzi outside who were very pissed they didn’t get their perfect shot.

Just as the countdown to midnight was about to begin, you found your way back to Trent. The club was louder than ever as the final minutes of the year ticked away. Trent was still in the same spot, nursing a fresh drink while the other hand was shoved in his pocket. He noticed you before you could say anything and you saw his eyes lock onto you with a certain look in his eye.

“Perfect timing” you giggled when you reached him, pulling him closer toward the exit where the paps were standing guard. “This is where Tyler wants us so let’s just get it over with.” You positioned yourselves near the glass doors so they would have a better view. The cold air from outside cooled you down a little, but it did nothing to knock any sort of clarity into you. As soon as the crowd started counting down, the air became tented with anticipation.

10...

9...

Your heart was beating fast against your chest and the alcohol made every sensation feel way stronger. You tilted your face up a little to meet his eyes, but he was already staring at you. Trent’s hand reached to cup your chin and tilt your face further upward.

8...

7...

His thumb brushed over the corner of your lip and the sensation made you exhale softly. He looked you in the eyes first, then at your lips, then back up at your eyes again, making you feel dizzy yet excited at the same time.

6...

5...

You parted your lips slightly with heavily lidded eyes. Both of you were supposed to be ‘acting’ but whatever was going on right now was not staged. His other hand found the dip in your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the fire in his eyes.

4...

3...

You leaned in at the same time, moving on instinct from the magnetism as the cameras outside began to flash. The paps were losing their minds and the shutters went off wildly, but all you could think about was how badly you wanted this kiss.

2...

1...

The room erupted into loud yelling, cheers, and champagne bottles popping as fireworks lit up the London sky outside. The second the cloud struck midnight, Trent’s lips lit a flame in you that made your whole body have goosebumps. His hand found your ass, gripping it firm enough to make you gasp and the tiny noise coming out of you motivated him even more. Your body arched into his as you continued kissing him in a way too entirely real make out session. You palmed the fabric over his dick and he groaned into your mouth, making you moan into his mouth in response. The crowd around you celebrated to a very random club remix of Auld Lang Syne but you were too wrapped up in him to care about celebrating the new year.

You finally pulled back breathless while staring at him. His lips were a little swollen but the fire was still in his eyes.

“We need to leave before they get the wrong pics” you blurted out, slurring your words from being tipsy but also flustered.

“Yeah” he said with his hand still on the curve of your back. “Hotel?”

“Hotel.”

When you made it back to the hotel and the lift doors closed, your back hit the mirrored wall as Trent pinned you into the corner. His hand slid over your thighs and the fabric of your dress bunched up.

“Thought I annoyed you” he muttered against your ear as his fingers slipped between your thighs.

“You still do” you replied back sassily, but then you gasped when he found the thin strap of your thong and tugged it against the folds of your pussy. The friction made you whimper and you dug your nails into his arm for stability. “But I can multitalk.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, gripping your thigh to open you up more. His other hand kept working the fabric of the thong, sliding it up and down until you were grinding against his knuckles. “Fuck you're soaked. This for me?”

“Shut up” you hissed while tugging at the button of his jeans with shaky fingers. When the lift dinged on your floor, you barely made it to the room before his hands were pulling, grabbing, and claiming you. He pressed you against a huge window of the hotel room while the fireworks were still popping off in the night sky.

“Take it off” you demanded, yanking at Trent’s shirt.

He pulled it over his head to show off his toned, muscled body that had been haunting you since the towel accident. You didn’t have much time to admire any of it because his hands were already undoing your dress, dropping it to your feet. The cool glass of the window pressed up against your bare skin and you shook a little when his lips latched on your neck, sucking and biting while his hands roamed over you. You moaned his name in a whimpered beg and arched into him when his mouth moved down to your boobs. His tongue ran over your nipple and he wrapped his lips around it, suckling gently and massaging the other with his hand. You gasped, clutching his shoulders and melting your body into his.

“You beg so pretty” he murmured against your skin. “What do you want, pretty girl? Tell me.”

“You” you panted in a trembling voice. “I need you inside me now.”

Trent groaned and ran his fingers between your folds to find your clit. The circles he rubbed against the sensitive nub made you moan loudly. “Not yet,” he rasped. “Need to feel how ready you are.” A broken sob escaped you when his fingers slid inside your pussy. His fingers were long enough to reach a spot that made your knees weak as he worked you open. Your head fell against the window as the squelch of your wetness filled the hotel room.

“Good girl” he coaxed, and your walls clenched around his fingers in response. He laughed and you could feel his smirk against your skin. “You like that, huh? You like being told how good you are?”

“Yesss” you gasped, grinding against his hand. “Fuck yes.”

He pulled his fingers out and you whined but the sound quickly turned into a needy moan when he ran the tip of his dick over your slit. He lined himself up, gripping your thighs to lift you up and push into you.

“DAMN” he groaned loudly, leaning his head back in both pleasure and disbelief from how you were gripping him. “You feel so fucking good gripping me.” You felt the curve when he stroked deeper, each thrust pressing you against the glass while the fireworks mirrored whatever was going on in this hotel room. “You’re so noisy” he teased when he heard you moan his name. He reached between your thighs to play with your clit again. “You want everyone to hear me fucking you, don’t you? You like that shit.”

You nodded, too far gone to care about anything but the feeling. “Oh my god, yes! Please don’t stop. You’re fucking me so good.”

Trent’s mouth latched to your neck again, leaving a mark you were going to have to cover up later. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer as he thrust harder..deeper. Your moans were nonstop, echoing against the window while he pounded into you.

“You’re creaming all over me” he groaned, dropping his eyes to his dick thrusting in and out of you with the perfect rhythm. “Look at that. Such a good girl for me.”

His praise and coaxing made you shatter. Your walls clenched around him while your orgasm rained over your thighs and onto him. Moaning cries mixed with his curses and filled the room until he took one last deep stroke into you and pulled out of you. You lowered yourself to take him in your mouth, sucking gently on his tip as ropes of cum filled your mouth. You got back up, very shaky and wobbly, but he wasn’t done yet. Trent carried you to the bed, lifting you up on top of him. Both of you were too far gone to care about the contract by that point and spent the rest of the night partaking in some ultra festive activities to bring in the new year as fireworks continued to pop off in the distance. 

The morning after, the sunlight was streaming through the large window you had just been fucked against the night before. It way too bright for how you were feeling now, even after the coconut water. Your head was pounding and you still felt groggy. Your lashes were barely clinging on and you forgot to do your skincare routine before falling asleep thanks to your activities. You groaned and reached for your phone, fumbling with it in your hands while Trent moved from somewhere else in the room to hand you a cup of coffee. 

“Good morning” he smirked at you, knowing exactly why you were in the state you were in. 

“Morning...and thank you” you muttered in a scratchy voice from a mix of sleep and..other activities. You took a look at yourself with your front camera and you snorted. Your hair was all over the place, your makeup was smudged and one of your lashes was hanging off. You took a glance back over at Trent, who had faint scratches on his back, making you laugh harder. The chaos was oddly on brand for the authentic, slightly unhinged content you were known for, so you decided to capture the moment to post online. 

You opened the camera app and switched to the wide angle just to make it that more authentic. You held your coffee cup in your hand with your messy hair and hanging lash on full display. In the background, Trent was off to the edge of the frame where only part of him could be seen digging through his distinctive Goyard wash bag, oblivious to his surprise cameo. You typed out the caption ‘Happy New Year 🥴✨’ and added it to the photo in white text before posting it on your story. You didn’t have to check the notifications...you knew what you did.

By the time you showered and made yourself look put together, your post had been picked up by SpillTheBeansUK where they did a full deep dive. Their post was a carousel of screenshots. The first was your original story in its chaotic glory, the second was a cropped version zoomed in on Trent’s hand digging into his bag and the faint lining of the side of his head, the third was a side by side of all the previous photos to confirm it was him.

SpillTheBeansUK: Happy New Year from Y/N and Trent Alexander-Arnold! 👀

realmrsTAA: sobbing into my pillow rn I KNOW THAT BAG

ynfansince2019: not her lashes hanging like that. IKTR QUEEN

yn_onlyyn: she’s so me coded i love her

leafygreens05: TRENT BABE TELL ME THIS ISN’T U?!? ARE THOSE SCRATCHES?

ballerbabyy: this feels like i’m on facetime with a friend i love her sm and they’re so cute

notyourfootiebae: Y/N and Trent 🏆 romeocruz: 😒

You laughed as you scrolled through the comments. Trent walked in, ready to head out for breakfast. Although, he was entirely too calm for someone who had just been moaning your name while you were bouncing on him just a few hours ago.

When you sat across from him during breakfast at the hotel restaurant, the realization of everything hit you all at once. You didn’t want this to end. Not the public antics, banter, or things with Trent. He was looking at his phone, scrolling through his apps. Unbeknownst to you, he was deleting his dating apps. All of them.

Meanwhile you were spiralling. Quietly, but definitely still spiralling. 

“What happens when this is over?” you asked quietly, cutting through your eggs benedict. 

He looked up, pausing his thumb over the delete button of the last app. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, stabbing at the food with a vanished appetite. “The contract. When June comes and we’re supposed to ‘break up’... What happens then?”

Trent deleted the final app and set his phone down to look at you. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

You laughed, trying to mask your nerves. “Well that’s not reassuring.”

“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “You worried about something?”

Your fork tapped against the hollandaise sauce on your food while you gathered what you wanted to say. “Um..well..this whole thing started off as a job for your image. But now....” you trailed off and looked at him.

“Now?” he prompted, locked on your eyes.

“Now it feels...different.” you admitted. “It doesn’t feel fake anymore. At least not for me.”

You thought he would smirk and have some comeback ready but he didn’t this time. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed loosely. “Doesn’t feel fake to me either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah” Trent leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. “It started off as a contract but I think that changed a little...we both know that.”

You stared at him. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we don’t have to stop,” he replied, never taking his eyes off you. “We don’t have to make a huge deal about it or anything but I don’t want to stop seeing you. It feels…” He trailed off to search for the right words.

“Like something worth exploring?” you offered, finishing his sentence.

He nodded, giving you his signature smirk, but this time it made you melt a little. “Yeah. Like that.”

--

The day the public stint of the contract was supposed to end came and went like any other day. You and Trent kept seeing each other instead of posting fake launch photos like the contract originally suggested after NYE. Tyler was smug about it the minute he found out, thinking he was the best Cupid ever. The last time you saw him, he handed you a Valentine’s Day PR brief with a grin.

“Guess we’re not cancelling the hard launch then?” he asked in a satisfied tone. You wanted to throw the folder at him, but he was right. You weren’t going anywhere and neither was Trent. Your fans adored the idea of you with him. There were multiple theories flooding your comment section daily, micro analyzing every interaction. Meanwhile, Trent’s fans reluctantly admitted he looked happy in a relationship for once. 

The hard launch came in the form of a Youtube video thanks to the fans: Boyfriend Rates My Outfits

Your followers were begging for this video for weeks. You never announced having a boyfriend but they knew you better than that. You didn’t plan on giving in but Trent was all for it. Your chaos had rubbed off on him, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Do it” he said one night while laying in bed with you at your place after a date night. “It’ll be funny.”

“Funny for who?” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“For me.”

Eventually you agreed, and the video started with you sitting in front of your neatly organized wardrobe, clasping your hands together. “Okay..you’ve all been asking for it so we’re doing a ‘boyfriend rates my outfits’ video today. My man isn’t really a fashion connoisseur so don’t expect much.”

Trent’s voice came in from behind the camera, already flirty. “Nah, I have taste, don’t set me up like that.”

“Do you?” you countered, laughing as you disappeared to change into the first outfit.

You strutted back in the room wearing high waisted jeans, a blazer and a cropped top paired with trainers. It was chic and cute enough for a brunch or something similar. Trent zoomed the camera in dramatically on your feet. “Shoes are nice. I’ll give it...an 8.”

“An 8?!” you scoffed, doing a little spin for him. “You’re mad. This is a 10.”

“Ah..okay. 9.5 but only because you look good walking away.”

The next look was a silky midi dress with a thigh high slit, paired with strappy heels. You stepped in the room and did a twirl for the cam.

Trent let out a whistle. “11. Easily.”

“You can’t give it an 11!” you protested, hands on your hip.

“Why not?” he grinned. “I’d take you out in that.. maybe in Greece or Spain.”

For the third look, you went full streetwear and wore cargos, a fitted crop top, a leather jacket, and chunky boots. Trent panned the camera up and down with a lot of dramatics. “You look like you’re about to rob somebody.”

“Trent!”

“Hey, I’m into it though! Come rob me baby” he added quickly, smirking. “9 out of 10.”

The final outfit was a red mini dress with an open back that hugged you in all the right places, paired with heels and a statement purse. Trent was quiet as he looked at you, shaking the camera while he adjusted the focus. “Goddamn. That’s a 12.”

“A 12?” you laughed, walking up to the camera and playfully covering the lens while giving him a kiss. “You’re not supposed to go over 10, T.”

“I don’t care. You’re breaking the scale.”

Trent turned the camera to face the both of you as both of you smiled into the lens. “Alright. Like, comment, subscribe, and…” He trailed off, lowering the camera a little and looked at your lips. He whispered, thinking the mic wouldn’t catch anything but it did. “...and turn this off so I can take this dress off you.”

Your jaw dropped and you swatted at his chest playfully, giggling. “You’re going to get me demonetized if you keep talking like that.”

As you edited the video, you decided to leave that part in there because it was funny and also cute. The comments rolled in quickly when word spread around online about it:

ynbabydoll: THE WHISPER AT THE END??? HELLO? I’M FERAL

ynstanclub: trent stuns in Y/N’s youtube video!!

ynplustrent: the way the cam shook when she came out in that dress....i know they get real nasty

spicynsaucy: UNCOVER THE LENS I WANNA SEE IT

footieNfashion: why is this more compelling than any press interview he’s ever done?

LFCStan44: this feels like i shouldn’t be in the room watching them rn but i’m here for it idk. love to see him back to his happy old self

FreeKickFiend: ugh..the way he sounds when he called her baby. that should be me

YNWADefenseNeeded: bro’s focus on this video is what we need on the pitch ALL the time RedKisses98: this man has forgotten we exist. thanks a lot Y/N

You shut your laptop after the premiere of the video and sunk into the couch next to Trent. He was scrolling through the comments on his phone, with that same infuriating, yet extremely attractive smirk on his face.

“You’re really enjoying this huh?” you nudged him with your elbow in a teasing tone.

“Of course,” he replied without looking up. “I’m the star of your channel now.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Very bold of you to assume they’re watching for you.”

Finally, he looked from his phone, cupping your chin and pulling you into a kiss. “Nah...but I’m here for you though. Fully off script. No contract needed.”

[ninelieswithme]

𝙳𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇ4 ʀᴇᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✩ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ʜᴀʏʏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏɢ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇs ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴏʟʟ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛᴛᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪᴛ ᴏʀ ɴᴀʜ!!

✰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴇ/ᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴ? ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀ :3

★ sᴇʟꜰ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴜ - 1k+ ᴡᴏʀᴅs

Leon quietly treaded into the dimly lit room.

His worn combat boots squelching against the wet tiles.

The flickering glow of ember torches following him.

The overcasting shadows warped on the stone brick walls as he stalked through the castle.

It was eerily quiet, an unsettling contrast to the neediness of battles and monstrous roars he typically encountered.

Leon was just an avatar.

A collection of code.

He’d known for a while now that his world wasn't quite real.

Until he felt it.

A pull.

Directing his every move.

A invisible force dragging him around like a obedient dog.

He could feel your presence..

This was a new kind of nightmare for Leon… Or more like.. daydream?

Leon has faced his fair share of horrors, since his days as a young rookie cop..

But this..

This was much more..

Different~

God he loved the feeling~

It was euphoric even..

The touch of your fingertips on the keyboard was like a whisper to his lifeline.

Fuck.. he felt his blood running down to his v line.

A throbbing sensation accompanying it. 

Only bitting his lip while treading deeper into the dim lit throne room of the castle.

Thankfully his cargos were bagged enough to hide his growing erection.

But something about this world.

About your warm embrace that surrounded him made him want oh so much more..

“Such a tease” he said lightly.

Only hearing you hum through the monitor. 

Your fingers on the keyboard gently guiding him further into the estate.

Such a fucking tease..

He couldn’t stop his own thoughts..

Like a fucking horny teen..

God..

He thought while his imagination blossomed with a lustful enthusiasm ravaging him fully.

Thinking about having you cutely on your knees.

Being such a good baby, hair tied back (or not).

As he thought of your hands raking his chiseled abs.

Coming to a halt at his v line 

His cock hard from your warm touch.

While you unbuckled his belt with ease.

Fingers nimble as you unbuttoned his cargos.

Leon's breath hitched at the thought of your hands on his zipp-

Keep it together.. he thought..

He was already hooked..

He hated it with a passion.

Hated that you made him feel this way.

Hated how his cock was twitching, begging to be free for your warmth to envelop him, to be he all around him.

Hated he couldnt see you, touch you..

Feel you..

He yearned for more than this one-sided situationship.

Weeks past, like minutes.

His mission nearly completed

But something about this world…

About you.

Just kept him tethered to it.

This filthy world he’s trapped in.

To be eternally be doomed to relive the pain of the Las Plagas.

To eternally yearn for a soul who he will never meet.

Everything was so frustrating.

And so fucking confusing.

Why are you doing this to him.

Why?!

He’s been through enough.

Day by day leon was feeling worse then before. His head pounding.

his organs swirling.

The heat unbearable, tearing at him.

His canines turning sharp.

His god given physique, littered with black veins.

Pulsing and throbbing.

His crystal sea blue eyes turned crimson.

Through the pain Leon still yearned for you.

When all hope was thought to be lost for Leon.

When Leon was taking his final breaths.

He was going to succumb to the las plagas.

The angel that Leon always thought you were,

Saved him!!

More like ashl-

This just gave him his 1000th reason to love you!!

Now he owe’s you his life!

Permanently

You own him.

Oh he’ll be the best partner.. Forever

The best boyfriend..

Best husband, Nd’best father

You would like that!!

W̴͔̏̕ō̵̝̭͙̊ų̷͕̙͚͖̲̱̐̒̀̆̎̈͜l̶̘̫͚͎̟̙̺̼̦͈̋̽̔d̶͇͆̓̂̆͌͛͠n̸͉̠̘̲̼̼̩͗͒̕͝͝’ţ̸̛̞̒̑̌́̄̽̀͝ y̶̡͕̮͇͖͕̮̳̲̓ō̵̝̭͙̊ų̷͕̙͚͖̲̱̐̒̀̆̎̈͜..

Let him fill you up with his seed huh?, make you all cute and round with his baby

You had to at least like him?!?

R̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂Į̴̧̝͔͍͖͇̹̗̅͆̈́̈́̒̕G̶̢̨̖͚̜̺̭̥̭͓̾̒̃̃̈̏͋͝H̸̪͊̒T̷̢̧͎̤̗͙̜͓̽͊ͅͅ…

you saved his life.

H̸̪͊̒E̵̪͐̌̕ͅ L̸̼̞̰͘O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝Ṽ̴̮̻̼̙̋͐̿̋̌̇̊E̵̪͐̌̕ͅŞ̸̜̦̦̦̓́̐̈́͆̅̇̚ Y̸̢̨̭̟͍̫͉͊O̸̜͉̹̳̎͒̎̄͘͘͝Ù̸̺̓̀̓͒͑!

What you have done for him is unforgettable.

he thought this was just a small crush obsession.. but oh no..

This is much worse now.

you should’ve never played this game.

Everyday was a challenge for your pc now.

The glitches growing more frequent.

The slip ups more common..

Things leon were saying were more.. out of character.

He longed to break free from his virtual prison.

To meet the person who held his heart in their tender hands.

His darling, he would protect at all costs.

At all costs..

After hours of intense gameplay and streaming.

You stretched and yawned in your gaming chair.

Your eyes lidded and heavy with the exhaustion of the day.

"Alright, Leon," you murmured groggly.

"Time for bed. I'll see you tomorrow.".

You said in a calm tone still not fully aware on how deep leon has fallen for you.

You didnt even know he liked- no loved you.

Just blaming the things he said as glitched quotes that the mods forgot to take out of your game.

You did get it awfully cheap-

Shaking the thought you power down your warm pc, its fan finally slowing down.

Leon watched from inside of the game as you powered down your PC,

The screen going dark, leaving him in a silent, cold void of the game's code.

Leon felt an unbearable emptiness settling in.

Desperation clawed at him, he couldn't let you go

Not for a second

The resident evil logo beaming into the reflection of leons icy blue eyes.

But something had changed.

The boundaries of his digital prison had grown more fragile.

Whether it was through your persistent involvement of the game or his growing self-awareness.

More like hacking..

He felt the restraining weakening like a paper thin barrier just waiting to be torn apart.

This is his moment.

As you fell into your bed, your room lit only by the slivers of moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

You dose off into a cozy deep slumber like always.

Leon decided it was time.

With a force of will that defied the logic and science.

He pushed against the screen,

The boundary simmering away before him, collapsing entirely.

He emerged from the digital vortex.

Worn blooded boots stepped into your dimly lit room.

With ease sinking to the ground, landing on his feet without issue.

He approached your bed, watching your peaceful expression.

The moons glow shining down on you.

God your were stunning, your voice was too m’gonna take good care of you darling He thought.

Leon extended a hand, breaking through the final worry he wasn’t real as he gently touched your face.

Swiping away some messy strands of hair.

Piercing E/C eyes flickered open, groggy and disoriented.

You stared in utter disbelief at the man standing before you,

His body shielding most of the moon under-glow.

Fuck he looks hot.. Y/N WHAT THE FUCK, he’s an intruder!!

You mentally berate for checking him out lightly, while still staring at the man before you.

He looks very familiar..

Clad in tactical gear, the signature fringe of his hair casting shadows over his striking familiar blue eyes.

L-Leon..

You thought confused, while Leon looked at you, eyes dazed with admiration and intoxicating love.

With the tenderness of someone touching a fragile doll, he scooped you up into his arms.

Your body still limp from sleep while the dramatic shift occurred.

Still letting out a light yelp as he held you.

"Please, don't be afraid," Leon begged, his voice trembling with emotion.

"I just want to be with you, to thank you for all that you've done for me. I can't bear the thought of being alone in that game any longer."

You just stared at Leon in disbelief, heart pounding in your chest.

He squeezed tighter nuzzling into you more.

"I'm so happy you're here, I missed you so much~”

The last part he said, had a disturbing ring to it.

Sending chills down your spine. Staring up at him.

Seeing his lovesick lidded diamond blue eyes.

He had finally found his way to be with you, and he wasn't going to let you go.

Never

Never

ክቿሀቿዪ

N̺̻̔̆ͅẹ̿͋̒̕v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝

N̶͎̫̉̍͘͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜v̷̧̬̽͂́̎̉è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑

N̶͎̫̉̍͘͝E̵̪͐̌̕ͅṼ̴̮̻̼̙̋͐̿̋̌̇̊E̵̪͐̌̕ͅR̶̨̨̖̬̹̥̜̠͎̺̍͐̂

..

..

…

………….

Looks like your in for a treat :33

AN - HAYYY I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MAKING THIS, MAKING IT MORE REAL 😭😭

[blues824]

Bonjour! Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui? May I request headcanons of Leona and Ruggie with a female bobcat s/o?

Uhhh… uhhhh… hola.

Disclaimer: Female reader.

Leona Kingscholar

It was a school crossover event… one that he was not particularly happy about. Sure, he respected women, and he was borderline terrified of them, but having a girl around would make some members of his dormitory a bit more rowdier than usual. Besides, he would have to attend the mirror ceremony.

However, it was an obligation that he would come to be grateful for, because the moment you stepped through, his senses went quiet. Everything went quiet, save for his increased heartrate. You looked so… gorgeous and badass. But you were quite friendly, actually, and rather quiet.

You were put into Savanaclaw for the time being, and Leona surprised everyone by volunteering to host you. As you got set up in his room, you both got to talking… and there was definitely a clear, mutual interest between the two of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating, which further surprised everyone.

Often, you both could be found cuddling in his room, either doom-scrolling through Magicam or just sleeping… or something else, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Leona also loved to spoil you, often just giving you his card to spend it on whatever you found online. You didn’t abuse his money, though, since you wanted to meet his family first so that they wouldn’t think you’re a gold-digger.

Speaking of, you absolutely loved Cheka, and the young lion cub loved you and called you his ‘Auntie’. Leona and you laid in his bed as Cheka laid between the both of you as he played a game you installed for him on your phone… and your boyfriend felt his heart pounding as you instructed the little one how to play. His instincts were telling him that he wanted a baby with you right here and now… but that’s for another day and a different blog.

Ruggie Bucchi

Now… he is also intimidated by women, which is probably why he went to this all-boys college. However, when he heard that there was a school crossover happening, he was very intrigued. After all, new victims to steal from. He went with Leona to see who was selected to stay at NRC… but was completely blown away.

You were standing there… as radiant as ever. The hyena could feel his heart pounding against his chest as you met his gaze and smiled. He felt like Mickey Mouse when Minnie pressed a kiss to his cheek. He felt like Thumper when his lovely lady, Ms. Bunny. 

From that point on, his attention focused on you. You needed any help on assignments? Done. You needed help with a creep not being nice to you? Well, that’s what his Unique Magic was for! You wanted to go on a date? Sure, he just needs… wait, what?! Yeah, when he asked you on a date, he was very surprised to see you nodding. You knew he wasn’t from the best of backgrounds, right?

However, he’d be damned if he let the opportunity just pass him by. He picked up more shifts from the jobs he works, and he was able to take you to the Mostro Lounge and pay for the entire bill. His grandmother always taught him not to be a scrub… and that being broke and being a scrub were two different things.

While he wishes he could spoil you more, you assured him time and time again that you just loved spending time with him, and that money was no big deal to you. Instead, you often spoiled him since you saw him working hard a lot. Many donuts and many head scritches from you were enough to make Ruggie think he was the King of the World.

[brnesblogposts]

facetime.

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

reblobs appreciated :))

———————————————

The TV was on in the background, a comfort sitcom playing as you scrolled through your socials endlessly. Bored now you opened messages, pressing on your only pinned contact, Bucky.

''hey, wyd'' you sent only seconds before it told you he'd read it, and then his contact photo flashed up because he was calling you. You groaned internally because you hated talking on the phone, it was so awkward for no reason and you could never figure out if it was your turn to speak or not. You answered;

“Hi, dollface” Bucky knew the effect that name had on you and you could see him smirk as he saw your cheeks heat up.

“Bucky you know I don’t like talking over the phone.. that’s why I texted you!” You groaned and he only laughed in response.

“Missed that pretty face of yours” His smile along with those words made you hide your face in your knees which were bent up against your chest.

“Don’t go shy on me, baby..” He laughed enjoying how flustered you got because of him “let me see my girl.” He cooed. Begrudgingly you lifted your now flushed face to look back at the screen to see his victorious grin.

“There she is” He smiles. “How come you texted me?” He does you a solid and changes the subject.

“I’m bored” You frown dramatically which Bucky finds so endearing.

“You’re bored?” he smiles “You know i’m on a mission right? A very important top secret mission”

“If it’s so important then why are you on your phone!” You furrow your eyebrows at him “and, why’d you call me” you all but grin.

Bucky is laughing before sighing “Well Sam is on patrol right now, looking for any activity and I thought I would use my break and be a great boyfriend and check on my girl. But if you don’t wanna talk to me then I guess i’ll hang up..” He dramatically rolls his eyes and in the camera you can see his hand going towards the screen.

“No!” You squeal and he smiles at your reaction.

“No?” He smirks.

“Please don’t hang up, if you do I might die of boredom and then you wouldn’t have a girlfriend anymore” Shaking your head you sigh.

“Well we can’t have that..” He holds back his laugh “I guess i’ll save you from the impending doom of boredom”

“Aren’t you sweet!” You smile

“Not as sweet as you my angel” This makes you blush once again and he chuckles.

“Stop doing that” You respond quietly as your face is still red.

“Stop doing what, doll?” Bucky plays dumb knowing this will only invoke you further.

“Don’t play dumb, you know what you’re doing” You glare down the phone at him.

“I’m not playing dumb. Tell me, what am I doing sweetheart?” That shit eating grin is back on his face. You groan. “You’re cute when you’re flustered” He retorts.

“Shut up!” You hide your face once again in embarrassment and hear his booming laugh on the other end of the phone, music to your ears.

“Okay, fine. I’ll stop I promise!” You’re sure he’s lying “Just take your face out of your knees?” As you do so you see the pout he’s sporting that quickly turns into a smile when he sees you again.

“My pretty girl” Bastard. You try to remain expressionless, the blush on your neck and cheeks betraying you.

“Bucky.”

“Yes, dollface?” Hes having so much fun.

A smile is threatening to break through your facade.

“Is your boredom cured yet?” He asks, to which you realise it is, because he has flustered you so much you are now overwhelmed rather than bored.

“Actually.. yeah.” You nod.

Bucky furrows his brows “Where is my thank you? I saved you from the grim reaper of boredom” He fakes an angry expression.

“Thank you, baby.” You respond with a smile seeing his cheeks redden a bit.

“You’re welcome, lyubov. (my love)”

The both of you seemed to fall into a comfortable silence as you just looked at each other through your phones for a few minutes until a sound came from Bucky’s end.

“Sam’s back. I have to go” A sadness tainted his voice.

“I love you, stay safe i’ll see you soon” You blew a kiss to him through the screen.

“I love you too, doll” He imitated catching the kiss and smiled then hung up, leaving you to stare at your phone wallpaper of the both of you making silly faces on one of your first dates.

[beneathashadytree]

MESSING AROUND - JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA X READER

Warnings : just two teens being in love and all over each other, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : puppy love n fluff <3

Word count : 1.1K words

Additional notes : This came to me in a dream. Love the idea of teenagers being sneaky and lazy teehee

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

They tiredly rubbed at their eyes. What was this, the tenth, or the hundredth time at this? In all cases, it felt like it was a never-ending cycle that they were doomed to stay in.

“Josuke, would it really kill you to study for an hour straight?” Nudging the textbook on the coffee table, they tried to bring his attention back to the long-forgotten syllabus. “We’ve got a quiz in 3 days.”

“Still plenty of time, if you ask me,” he shrugged, not looking away from the television screen where he was trying to beat his high score (again) in one of his video games. “That’s a whole, uh, 72 hours.”

“If you hesitated while doing simple math, then I fear how you’ll face a few calculus problems.” Rolling their eyes, they sidled up to his back. “Come on. Didn’t Miss Tomoko threaten to smash the console if you don’t get at least a B+? With the looks of things, we’ll be lucky if you pass at all.”

Still without looking at them, he scowled. “First off, thanks for your obvious belief in me.” He could be petty when he wanted to, and this seemed like one of the times he wanted to pout and get snarky. “Second of all, she wouldn’t.”

At that, they arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? Did you forget that time she threw the television out of the window to keep her word when you flunked that history test?”

A few moments of silence, save for the sound effects coming from his game, and the furious tapping of buttons. “Alright, maybe she will. But still, we have a lot of time to go through the material.”

“Three days. Half of one you’ve already wasted, mind you.” They sighed, carefully wrapping their arms around his midsection and snuggling up to his broad back. A cheap trick, yes, but how else would they grab his attention without outright snatching the controller from his hands? “C’mon, Josuke. Miss Tomoko asked me to come over while she was out for this reason. I don’t wanna let her down, y’know?”

Josuke audibly swallowed, and they had to hold back a smug laugh. They had him right where they wanted him. “H-hey, who are you dating, me or my mom?”

They snorted, teasingly squeezing his waist. “My supposed-boyfriend’s got me right with him, and he’s been practically ignoring me for two hours. I’d say the answer’s currently neither of you.”

Instantly, the controller flew all across the room, landing somewhere unknown as his character on the screen crashed into explosives and died. Bingo, they wickedly thought to themself as Josuke finally turned around in their arms, his handsome face blocking out the ‘GAME OVER!’ flashing behind him.

Heavy eyebrows furrowed and lower lip jutted in a subconscious pout, he leaned in, caging them against the back of the sofa with his arms. “Dirty move.”

“You fell for it, though.” Grinning, they hooked their arms around his neck, tugging him a little closer. “Can’t believe I had to fight for your attention this long.”

“It slipped my mind that we’re finally alone,” he moaned pitifully, nudging their nose with his. “Next time I get distracted from you, punch me in the balls.” At the sinister look he saw in their eyes, he pulled back for a second, alarm on his face. “On second thought, I take that back. Don’t.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Cocking their head to the side, they toyed with a few loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was so rare to see his hair anything other than immaculately styled, so the rare chances that they got to touch the soft strands were deeply cherished—by the both of them, it seemed, if the current redness of Josuke’s cheeks was anything to go by. “Or would you rather I keep my hands on you?”

Their boyfriend buried his face in their neck, partially out of embarrassment, and partially out of a desire to press achingly gentle kisses against their exposed skin. “Mm, I don’t know,” he mumbled, “So long as you’re not too rough with me, I’d prefer that, yeah.”

“Oh? So you like to be treated gently, big guy?” Their voice came out a little breathy as he lightly nipped at that one spot on their neck, and they hoped that it wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he had them weak in his arms. Just a little more…

More kisses rained down on them, trailing up to their jaw and sucking at the skin there, just lightly enough to tease them without leaving a mark. A sigh escaped their lips, and their hands trailed down his back, gripping at his yellow tank top in hopes of regaining their sanity. Strong arms embraced them tightly, and arched their back into him.

“Yeah, so what?” he mumbled against the corner of their lips. “Got a problem with that?”

At the very last second before their lips met, they turned their face to the other side and pulled away. “Actually, I do. Because we’re not doing anything at all until you finish studying chapters one through four.”

Groaning, Josuke made to reach out for them as they slipped from his embrace and began to walk off. “Babe, you can’t be serious—“

“I am,” they coolly said, as if they hadn’t been seconds away from pulling him ontop of them. “Would you like me to call your mom and tell her you’re fooling around instead of getting your shit done?”

He shuddered, visibly recoiling at the thought and slumping back in place. “Don’t. She’ll probably put a ban on you ever visiting me when she’s out.”

Still a little shaken up and their nerves slightly tattered by the onslaught of intimacy, they hurried to his room, calling out behind them in a sing-song voice. “Well, these calculus problems aren’t gonna solve themselves!”

Collapsing onto his bed, they muffled a laugh as they heard him swearing and slamming his heavy notebook open, grumbling under his breath the entire time. In the meantime, they curled up into his freshly-made sheets and snuggled their head into his fluffy pillow.

“It smells like him,” they whispered to themself, their face flushed as they squeezed the pillow a little. Somehow, having their boyfriend’s familiar scent surrounding them from everywhere warmed them up to their fingertips, and sent their heart racing in their ribcage. “Wish he’d hurry up and join me before Miss Tomoko gets home…”

Taglist: @blondeboyfriend @mrsgiovanna @boorishbrambling

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[diabolikangel158]

Can you do the Vees x reader (separate) where they see you watching an edit of them and you start fangirling, despite already dating them? Thank you!

Alas, I’ve finished this post. Honestly wasn’t even to hard, I just got busy. I’ve got so much stuff I need to do and want to do, but no time to do it.

Vox x Reader, Velvette x Reader, Valentino x Reader (separate)

Disclaimer: Hints of unhealthy relationships, borderline stalking behaviors, some hints at abuse and anger issues, controlling behaviors from the Vees, suggestive content

Vox:

You lay quietly on your bed, scrolling through TikTok. You remember when you first arrived in Hell, you were simply relieved that there was technology at all, and even better, there was your beloved app. When you met and hit it off with the tech overlord himself, you were thrilled (almost as thrilled as Vox was with you). Vox had mentioned at some points that he was concerned with your “addiction” to the app, sometimes silently wondering if he had accidentally hypnotized you into being so enthralled with it. However, after a few random checks, he realized that it wasn’t his doing at all; you just really liked doom scrolling on there. In all honesty, he felt some kind of pride seeing you spend hours using his tech. Plus, it kept you busy while he was running around his company and discussing various things with other overlords. 

You chuckled to yourself, repositioning your body to alleviate some of the stiffness you felt from reclining in the same posture for so long. You swiped up once more, your jaw dropping open. You had seen edits of other people before, whether they were famous actors, idols, and even fictional characters, but this was the first time you’d seen this. It was an edit alright, a sexy song playing in the background. However, there was no actor or idol, but your very own boyfriend, Vox. Vox, CEO of VoxTek, Vox. 

A couple things ran though your mind as you watched it on repeat. Hey, it was a good edit. He would kill them if he ever found out who made this. Or would he? Maybe Vox would like this. You giggle a little at the thought. Of course he would like this. You may love Vox, but you’re not blind to how egotistical he can be at times. For all you know, he probably already had a folder titled “Me Edits” on his phone. You went ahead and liked the post, pressing the bookmark icon to save for… future use? 

Of course, the TikTok algorithm figured you out pretty quickly. You continued to see and like more videos, finding a new way to pass time on the app. You were so enraptured, you didn’t notice Vox walk into the bedroom, slipping off his jacket with a yawn. He grumbled a small greeting to you, but you didn’t even notice that. Vox narrowed his eyes suspiciously; he was used to you being obsessed with your phone, but not so much that you’d even ignore him. 

He pulled out his own phone, clicking on the app that he used to keep a close eye on you… for your safety of course. No other reason. He maneuvered to the section that allowed him to view what you were viewing on your phone live. What he found… surprised him to say the least. You were watching on repeat one of those TikTok edits of him that were floating around on the internet. He pressed a button on his phone to access your camera on your phone, viewing your expression. There was a light blush on your cheeks, and your eyes barely blinked, as though you were afraid that blinking would cause you to miss something important in the edit.

Vox’s screen displayed a toothy grin as he put his phone away in his pant’s pocket. He went over to you on the bed, leaning in behind you close to your ear. “Damn, doll, I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is a whole new level. Even for me.” You whip your head around to look at him, losing the grip on your phone. Vox takes it in between two of his claws, holding it up. “Oh, so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to interrupt your time with…” He pauses, turning the screen towards himself to view it. “Oh, yes, me.” He laughs a little. 

You sat up in the bed, crossing your arms angrily. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you don’t have a folder saved up for yourself, of yourself.” You spit back, trying your best to cover up your embarrassment with anger. 

Vox simply smiled back at you. “Why? Want me to share the link with you?” He laughs some more, your attempt to embarrass him being brushed aside. 

You groan in annoyance. Of course this whole situation was going to inflate his

ego even more than it already was. 

Velvette:

Velvette walked through the halls of the Vee tower, making her way without even having to look up from her phone. She tapped her thumbs along the screen to update her various social medias, hitting the upload button with a grin as she arrived at your room. 

Not bothering to knock or make her presence known in any kind of way, Velvette easily opened the room to find you laying in bed on your back, head resting on a pillow, with your phone raised above your face. Usually, you would have noticed her by now. She cocked out her hip in annoyance, placing one hand on it as the other still held onto her phone to the side. Velvette’s eyes narrowed when she noticed you grin dazedly at your phone, pop music blaring out from it on repeat. 

Velvette gives you a couple more seconds before clearing her throat loudly. You finally notice her and in your surprise, let go of your phone that you had above your head and unceremoniously drop it on your face. You give a yelp in pain before quickly picking up your phone and trying to lock it. However, the pop music continued to play, and if one listened closely, someone was saying something over the music.

“And what’s got you so enthralled that you can’t even bother to greet your girlfriend when she walks in the room?” She huffs out, crossing her arms across her chest. She walks over to you and peers at your phone, which is locked but still playing the sound. “I know it’s a damn tik tok, since that insufferable music keeps–”

Velvette stops speaking as she is interrupted by…herself. 

“Ugh. No! Unacceptable. You're fired. What is this? Wrist ruffles? Is it 1750? Burn it like the witches who wore it!" Again, the pop music ensues. 

Velvette looks at you blankly, before a smirk tugs at her lips. “Are you… watching edits of me?” She can’t help the chuckle that slips out of her mouth. “Seriously? Open it up, let me see what you’ve been watching.”

You unlock your phone, ashamed, handing it to her. “To be fair, they’re pretty good edits, Vel.” She snatches your phone away and begins to watch the video. She watches it without much reaction and hands the device back to you. She says nothing for a moment. “Um… are you upset about it?”

Instead of answering, she opens her phone to an app, taking a picture of the both of you, not allowing you any time to prepare for it. “H-hey! You could warn me! I don’t even look good!”

Velvette rolls her eyes, typing a message on the photo, preparing to upload it. “Please, I’m your girlfriend. I make sure you look good all the time.” She gives you a snarky grin, finally uploading the image. You get a notification on your phone– you’ve been tagged in a post… Velvette’s post. You open it to look and find the picture that she had snapped of the two of you with the caption “If you don’t catch them watching edits of you in their freetime, do they really love you?” and of course, your username is tagged in it. Various comments already start rolling in about how cute you guys were as a couple, jealous comments about how envious they were of the relationship; the usual.

You look at her, your mouth agape. “Did you really have to put me on blast like that?”

Velvette looks rather satisfied with herself, giving you a shrug. “Anyways, save your little edits for later, the car is ready for us.” You sigh as you get up to follow her. 

Valentino:

You honestly weren’t surprised that Valentino had fans that made edits of him and posted them on social media. Let’s be honest, if you had the talent for editing, you’d probably be one of those fans. If you found anything surprising, it was the fact that there were so many that weren’t raunchy. Of course, you supposed, that if someone wanted to see something raunchy about him, they’d have to pay a subscription fee. Surely, there were videos of him in his prime somewhere. 

You scrolled through, finding some sort of joy in the fun videos, even adding some of the music that the users had chosen to your playlists. You rolled over onto your stomach and continued scrolling. So enthralled you were with the silly videos, that you were only brought out of your stupor upon feeling a light, yet confident touch on the back of your thigh. “Hey amorcito… and just what are you looking at on your phone, hm?” 

Your eyes widened and you quickly turned your phone face down, craning your neck to look back at him. You didn’t expect that he would be back so soon. “Oh, Val! I thought you said you had a long shoot today and wouldn’t be back ‘till later?!” The words come out too rushed to be considered “normal.”

Valentino tilted his head to the side. “What? Did you not miss me? Or do you just enjoy being alone nowadays?” He gives you a fake pout. “Don’t tell me that’s the case, amorcito. You’re going to make me upset…” The tone in his voice held a slight edge to it; the production from today must have pissed him off and so he cut early for him to flip this quickly. You were used to his short temper, but ordinarily you’d have at least a little leeway. 

“Of course I missed you!” You reassured quickly. You sat up in the bed, crossing your legs together and looking at him with what you hope is a “Valentino-can’t-be-mad-at-me-like-this” look. Fortunately for you, he gives you a grin and pats your head, sitting down next to you. 

“Well, don’t be shy, let me see what you were looking at, hm?” Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and Val doesn’t miss a beat. He leans in to peer at you closely. “Don’t tell me you were watching naughty films… and without me! I’m hurt, amorcito.” Before you can explain that you definitely were not doing that, Valentino snatches the phone you left unguarded and unlocked on the bed with one of his arms. You start to protest, but quiet down when one of his hands holds a finger up at you, a silent command to shut your mouth. 

You’re not sure what you expect from him when he sees it. Maybe to make fun of you, call you touch-starved, obsessed, a lost puppy perhaps? Can’t even be away from me for a second? You’re so pathetic it’s cute. You grimace in your head at the thought of such degradation to your person. 

Needless to say, you’re surprised when Valentino squishes your cheeks with one hand, gripping your face hard to pull you close. You lips pucker due to the force and you couldn’t mumble out a preemptive apology even if you tried. Only muffled sounds would come out. “Amorcito, you’re so cute! You know, I was ready to be so angry with you for trying to hide things from me, but this is just adorable! Was my baby scared that I would embarrass them?” You nod as much as his grip on your cheeks will allow. He snickers and lets the hand on your face fall to your neck, softly grabbing ahold of it. Valentino kisses you, hard. It’s honestly rather messy, not that kisses with him were ever chaste by any means. It leaves you gasping for breath.

Val locks your phone, gently placing it on the bedside table. It’s a kind gesture if you’ve ever seen one from him. Vox loves to complain to you about how many phones Val has shattered in his fits of rage or moments of carelessness. Val lies down besides you, pulling him close to him. “You’re too good to me, carino. So, I’ll be good to you, too.” You feel one of his hands sneaking in between your legs as the other three busy themselves with removing some of your clothing. “After all, why bother with those silly videos when you have the real thing right here?”  He flashes you a salacious grin before you close your eyes to endure the pleasure that you’ll be succumbing to… whether you want to or not. 

[osohchoso]

Shattered Ice

Chapter Three- Black Flash

Hockey player!Choso x F!reader, ex bf!Toji x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Class list | Next

Content: Hockey AU, College Au, friendly teasing, deep thoughts, alcohol and smoking, SatoSugu mentions, many JJK references lol.

The week went by quickly, and you did everything you could to keep your mind off the impending project you were assigned to complete with Choso. You buried yourself in homework, cleaning the dorm and even volunteered to microchip at a local animal shelter for extra credit. The project was the last thing you wanted to think about. You made no effort in contacting him to set up a time to start it together, but neither had he. The few chances you passed him in the halls, you completely ignored him. Unsure if he tried to make a move to get your attention in return.

Monday would be here again soon, and you needed to think of a realistic plan fast. You weren't sure how long you could fully avoid him when you're trapped in your shared class for an hour once a week.

The day that followed your first public speaking class, you set up a follow-up appointment with Mr. Gakuganji. Marking the email as urgent. Marching right into his office the second he sat behind his desk, an annoyed look plastered on his face like he already anticipated what your next words would be. 

“Please, let me change classes.” You pleaded. It could be a different day, different time, different semester. You didn’t care as long as it got you far away from Choso. Most of your veterinary friends were put into the Wednesday class, if you could get moved to then the class would go by like a breeze. Instead of how it is now. Agonizingly slow while you await impending doom. Waiting for the fallout of last week’s party to catch up to you. 

“No” Your counselor answered sternly, not even bothering to turn his computer on and search the seat availability for the other time slots. 

“But-” You open your mouth to object, the word coming out in a shrill cry before he cuts you off.

“I said no and that's final.” He shut you down, shooting a glare your way. “Look, I don’t care about whatever childish reason you have, you can figure it out on your own. There are no more open spots, deal with it” 

“What if-” You try again, hoping maybe you could drop it for the semester and put it off until the next. Even if that meant a heavier workload next year, you wouldn’t mind if it saved you from this awkward situation. 

“How many times do I need to tell you no? Do I need to spell it out? N. O.” You shut your mouth, jaw clenching, as he raises his voice ever so slightly. It was kind of a shock, you had asked so nicely and expected it to work in your favor. “Do you understand now?” 

“Yes sir” You say shakily, standing up from the chair in his office. You hadn’t expected to feel so humiliated after this meeting.

“Good, don’t bother me with stupid questions again.” He sighed, waving you out of the office. As you walked out, the defeat started to sink in. You were stuck with him.

As the week went on, you attempted to hatch a plan on how to deal with Choso as your partner. You wanted to minimize as much interaction with him as possible, to protect yourself from further embarrassment. Maybe you could do the whole project yourself. All the research, preparing the powerpoint, everything. Choso wouldn’t mind, right? A typical jock would be ecstatic to have someone do all the work for them. As for the speech part, you could write him a script to follow for the presentation. With just the minimal amount of speaking parts to land him a good grade as well. 

But you could work on that later, it was Friday night afterall. 

“You almost ready?” Shoko shouts from the other side of your bedroom door. Tonight you were attending the second home game here at Kaisen University, accompanied by Shoko and Satoru. The pair always goes with you to every game, Satoru because he has to support his boyfriend while Shoko goes just to get drunk. You go for the love of the game. 

“Almost!” You yell back, buttoning up your jeans in front of the mirror. You just needed to find a shirt to wear. Suguru dropped off the skirt you left at the last party earlier this week, cleaned just like Choso promised, but the crop top you wore was missing. Maybe the shirt was ruined beyond repair. It would have been the perfect outfit to wear tonight to support the Curses, oh well. You settle for a red and navy striped crewneck, even if you couldn’t find your official gear you could at least rep the school’s colors.

Stepping out, you see Shoko impatiently waiting by the door. Shoes laced up and purse slung over her shoulder. You step into your shoes and tie them tightly, throwing a glance over to Utahime on the couch. Sitting there in lounge clothes, tapping away at the laptop on the coffee table, brows pinched together.

“You sure you can’t come tonight?” You ask your second roommate. Utahime doesn’t attend as many games as you but she is always such a fun addition when she does. Opposite of the serious girl you see in front of you, hard at work.

“Sorry, I wish I could” She sighs, stretching her back out from her hunched position. “I have a report due at midnight. Honestly , Gojo shouldn’t be going tonight either, I doubt he finished his already.” She spits his name in a way that makes you laugh, those two are always fighting. 

“Wish you could come with us.” Shoko pouts at her friend, reaching for the door handle. She pulls it open and turns her attention back to you. “Come on, Satoru is already at the stadium. He saved us two seats.” Shoko grabs your arm and practically drags you out the front door. 

A quick jog across campus, chilly air nipping at your nose, and you reach the hockey arena. The two of you file inside the stadium, searching the stands for the familiar snow white hair of your friend. He sticks out like a sore thumb against the busy crowd, a beacon during a storm. He had picked some excellent seats to watch the game too, front row beside the home team’s goal. He turns to you as you rush to his side.

“There you two are! You're late! Thought maybe you abandoned me!” He jokingly scolds you, a pair of black circle glasses covering his eyes even though he is indoors. Shoko snatches them off his face, putting them on herself and revealing his piercing blue stare. 

“You know how long this one takes to get ready” Shoko teases, sticking her thumb in your direction. 

“Hey! We made it just in time.” You defend, unable to conceal your smile. You slide past both of them to claim one of the seats, Satoru and Shoko joining you on either side. The game starts only a few minutes later, lights dimming and music booming as the spotlight shines to introduce the team. Crowd erupting in a wave of cheers in all directions. 

“The captain of Kaisen University, the king of Curses in the flesh, Ryomen Sukuna!!” The announcer roars as you watch the team captain skate onto the ice, the spotlight following him around as people chant his dumb nickname. He basks in the praise, pumping his fist in the air.

“More like the disgraced one” you scoff under your breath. Sure, the arrogant man was a great player. A record of goals in his history on the team, but he played dirty. Also holding a record for the most times sent to the penalty box. Known for his bad temper and always itching for a fight. You can't help but roll your eyes as you witness the smug grin he wears during his lap around the rink.

The rest of his team follows him out. You recognize a few of them from your friend circle. Suguru, Yuki, Kento. 

“She’s so hot” Shoko sighs dreamily, watching as the team's first and only female hockey player takes her lap on the ice. Smiling and waving to her adoring fans. Yuki Tsukumo worked hard to get where she was, facing lots of misogyny along the way to stake a claim in a male dominated sport. Now she represents the team skillfully, earning lots of respect from players and fans alike.

“That's my boyfriend!!” Satoru shouts, jumping up from where he sat. He points to Suguru as he passes by, who is pretending like Satoru isn’t screaming his lungs off. Suguru puts a hand in front of his face, trying to block out the embarrassing screams of his number one fan. “Love you Sugu!!” Satoru continues to fan-girl until you grab his wrist and pull him back to sit in his spot.  

Of course you spot Choso, your pupils easily spotting the number 7 printed under his last name on the navy jersey. The gear layered underneath along with the heavy padding covering his limbs only serve to make his already thick build somehow larger. A focused expression behind his helmet, he has entered game mode. Skating over to the goal he calls home, right in front of your seats.

The opposing team strides onto the ice, yellow and white jerseys flash past as they do their own lap. They don’t receive an ounce of the fanfare compared to the home team. The once cheering crowd turned into a chorus of ‘boos’ and taunts.  

The game starts and the excitement is electric. The sharp sound of skates on ice almost puts you in a trance as you watch the game. The away team was good, almost on par with Kaisen University. Every time your team scored a point, they would follow up with one of their own. This would be a close game. 

Your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own though. Instead of being glued to the puck like every game before this one, you find your eyes floating to the home team goalie. Every impressive save, every frustrated fail. Constantly checking to see his reactions throughout the game. Making sure to take in every detail of the man you vowed to avoid. 

Intermission comes and you watch Choso skate to the bench, peeling his helmet off his sweaty head. Long brown locks slick to his flushed face. Perfect lips parted as he squeezed a water bottle for a much needed drink. Off in his own world, probably psychoanalyzing every play of the game up to this point.

“Look! It’s Takaba!” Satrou elbows your side, taking your attention away from the resting goalie. Looking over the ice, you watch as a cartoonish ghost skates. While most teams have a mascot that is a fearsome animal, tigers, sharks or such, your school is known as the Curses. The man inside is Fumihiko Takaba from the theater program, and he does a damn good job of putting on a comedic performance. 

“Ugh, cringe. I’m gonna grab us some drinks, be right back.” Shoko groans as she rises from the seat. Before walking away she hands the circle shades she was still wearing back to their rightful owner. Satoru places them back on his face, turning to you once Shoko was gone. Devilish grin curling across his lips. 

“What’s that stupid look for?” you sigh, digging a finger into his side. Your best friend leans in, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You gonna kiss Kamo again tonight?” He whispers, causing heat to flood to your face, warming your still chilly skin.

“Of course not!” You snap back at him, placing your palm against his forehead to shove his face away. “Why would you even ask that!”

“Come on! You seemed to enjoy it sooo much last time” Satoru is relentless with his teasing. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.” 

“I’m not interested. I was drunk Satoru” You cross your arms and look away. “You can't hold my drunk self accountable for that.”

“Not interested? You're such a liar” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he knows more than your own heart does. And maybe he does. Swinging your head back to face him, blue orbs peering behind dark glasses, smirk on his face as he awaits your admission. 

“No. I’m not” You double down. 

“Bullshit.” He huffs, causing you to glare. “I see how you have been watching him all night. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. Admit it!” 

You want to come up with a witty retort, something to make him drop this whole conversation once and for all. Yet you come up empty handed, staring at your friend like a fool. Thankfully, Shoko comes to the rescue. 

“I’m back!” She sings, handing a can of beer to each of you. You gratefully accept it, wrapping your fingers around the ice cold can. Taking an eager first sip in hopes of clipping the wings of the butterflies that threaten to take flight in your stomach. 

“You know I hate beer Shoko” Satoru pouts, taking the can and bringing it up to his glossy lips to drink the world's smallest sip. A wince as it travels down his throat.

“Oh, whatever Gojo, you can handle it.” Shoko teases in return, leaving you thankful to be out of the spotlight.

The game resumes, clock ticking down in the last period. The scores are so close, with the Curses only up by one point. Everyone in the stands watches on the edge of their seat, holding their breath as a player from the away team passes the puck to his teammate. The opposing player readies his stick, swinging hard and fast to send the puck hurtling toward the goal. Seconds ticking down on the clock.

If the Kaisen goalie can defend it, the game will be won. Their second game in a row, setting a tone for the rest of the season as menacing champions. If he misses, if the puck flies straight into the net, the game will go into overtime. Judging by the exhausted expressions on the home team’s faces, dragging this game out could cost them. 

The puck was fast, soaring through the air. Speed threatening to break past even the best defenses. It would slip past most goalies easily. 

But Choso wasn’t like most goalies, he was faster, eyes locked on the black blur as it catapulted toward him. Skillfully snatching it mid-flight with his left gloved hand. The loud blaring of the buzzer rings through the air, signaling the end of the last period as Choso holds the caught puck up like a prize. The entire arena erupts in excitement, chanting his name over and over until ‘Let's go Choso’ is the only thing you can hear.

His teammates rush him on the ice, surrounding him in a circle of praises and chants. Hands patting his back and helmet as they congratulate him on that game saving move. 

“That was incredible!’ Even Satoru was hyped after that play, still raving about it as the three of you stood from your seats to head outside. “He was so fast!” 

“Yes, I saw” You and Shoko say in unison, feeling like sardines as you push your way through the crowd. A little claustrophobic as everyone attempts to leave at once. Stepping out into the chilly air outside tasted like sweet relief. 

“Sure you don’t want to kiss him now?” Satoru teased again, obvious that he was only acting like this to get a rise out of you. Though you wouldn’t admit it to him, you kinda did want to. He looked pretty hot during tonight's game, off in his own world where nothing but the puck mattered. The last stunt he pulled only added to his attractiveness in your eyes. 

Though maybe it wasn’t only in your eyes. A group of girls pass by outside, gushing about the Kaisen goalie. One of them convincing the others she was going to get between his sheets tonight. 

“What now?” You asked the group after standing out in the cold for a few minutes, watching as Shoko sticks an unlit cigarette between her lips. Her other hand fumbling for a lighter in her jacket. She was wearing Satoru's glasses again, you didn't even notice her steal them this time. A running gag between the two of them since the beginning of their friendship. 

“Dunno. Suguru said the house is still trashed from last week so no party there” She responds, irritation seeping through as she comes up empty handed in her quest for a lighter. You turn to Satoru, about to ask if he has any ideas. But you stop, watching as the familiar face of his boyfriend stalking behind your best friend. A finger pressed to his lips as he warns you not to give away his presence. 

“Guess who!” He purrs, lips pressed against his white hair as he covers Satrou’s blue eyes with two hands.

“Suguru!” Satoru spins around, throwing his arms around his dark-haired boyfriend to pepper his cheek in kisses. You gag loudly, making sure they remember that you and Shoko are still right here. They break apart, Suguru fishing a lighter out of his pocket and extending his arm in offering for Shoko. Your friend greedily snatches it up, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. 

“That really was a great game” You tell your hockey playing friend, his dark hair pulled in a still damp bun from his quick shower in the locker room. Changed out of his jersey and into a casual jean and jacket combo “Congratulations on another win” Suguru smiles at your praise, pulling you into a side hug.

“Thanks! We hope to go undefeated this season.” He explains, and with the roster they have, it's definitely possible. “Do you guys want to head to the bar with us? The team is heading to Boogie Woogie to celebrate.” Shoko’s eyes light up, nodding as she presses the still burning cigarette to the cold metal railing. 

“Of course we want to go! Who do you think we are!” She flicks the cigarette away, wrapping an arm around yours. 

“Alright, let's head out then” Suguru laces his fingers with Satoru, leading the group toward the parking lot. His sleek black car sticks out like a sore thumb against the others, Satoru definitely splurged just a bit on his boyfriend’s last birthday. You and Shoko climb into the back seat, the booming music doing little to block out their shameless flirting on the ride.

Boogie Woogie was the best college bar around. Not far from campus and huge supporters of the hockey team, which made it the obvious choice for an after party. Every winning game they supply the team with a round of celebratory beers, and every losing game two rounds of shots to numb the pain. Game nights they also served a special concoction they called ‘Black Flash’, a mix of delicious fruity flavors that resulted in an odd black-red color. 

The strobing blue and red neon lights greet you as you walk up to the brick building. The roars of celebrating and deafening music assault your ears before you even step through the front door. This place was sort of a tradition after games for everyone, not just the hockey team, of course it would be crowded tonight. 

The second you enter, your group of four splits in separate ways. Suguru drags Satoru across the bar without even muttering so much as a goodbye to you, forcing your white-haired best friend to socialize with Suguru’s hockey pals Kento and Miguel. You turn your head back to Shoko, at least you still have her by your side. Or so you thought. 

She seemed to vanish out of thin air, teleported away. You let out a lengthy sigh, they always find a way to abandon you it seems. You'll track Shoko down later, first you need to get a drink in you. 

You make your way over to the bar counter, hopping up onto the stool and resting an arm on the sticky wood surface. Your other hand waves to one of the bartenders on duty, Yu Haibara. He passes a beer to a patron then rushes to you, calling your name.

“Hey! How are you!” The brown-haired boy greets you, leaning over the counter to wrap you in a hug. 

“I’m good, how are you?” You smile. You met Yu last year when he joined Kaisen University as a freshman. He tried out for the hockey team but they picked his best friend Kento instead, so Yu decided to do the next best thing. Getting a part-time job at the most hockey obsessed bar in town. Everynight you joined the team here after, Yu was there. Always so friendly and easy to talk to too, causing you to befriend him quickly. 

“I’m great!” He pulls away from the embrace, grabbing a nearby silver shaker. You don’t even have to ask for your drink, he knows what you're here for. “I’m loving all my classes this year, making lots of friends. Oh! Kento is going to help me practice so maybe I can join the hockey team next year!” He doesn’t ever pause as he speaks, spitting out every thought at record pace. All while expertly flicking his wrists, shaking a mixture of liquor and juice above his head.

“That’s great Yu! I look forward to watching you soon.” You encourage him with a genuine smile, watching as he pours the deep red liquid into a highball glass. Before he passes the drink over, he has to add the finishing touch. Topping off the cup with a shiny cherry and a sprig of mint.

“Black flash!” He shouts, setting the drink in front of you. Proud of his creation, like this isn’t the eighth black flash he's made in the last hour. 

“Thanks” You smile at him, sliding some cash across the counter. You bring your lips to the straw. The taste of black cherries, pomegranates and diverse rums flood your taste buds. Such a sweet drink for the game’s sweet victory. “Hey, have you seen Shoko?” You question him. Yu squints his eyes, tapping his chin with a finger as he scans the bar. 

“There!” he exclaims, pointing across the bar. You follow his finger, past the chattering crowd and already drunk hockey players. Against the far wall is a pool table, Shoko is drinking a beer and leaning a hip against the side, cue stick in her other hand. Watching as Yuki takes her turn, knocking a striped ball into the corner pocket.

“Thanks, talk to you later. I should go join them.” You hop down from the barstool and walk in the direction of the two girls, drink in hand. You keep your eyes down as you force your way through the packed bar. Catching bits and pieces of conversations as you passed. Lips around the straw, fully engrossed in your drink as you walk. Shoko has a sort of obsession with the tall blonde, and honestly, can you blame her?

Due to your lack of awareness, you ran right into someone’s hard chest. Red liquid from your cup spraying over the muscles concealed by a tight white shirt. Quickly soaking through and reaching the victim’s skin below. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You quickly set your now empty cup down on a nearby table and grab a wad of napkins. Pressing them against the wet fabric to soak it up, feeling the muscles contract underneath your touch. “It was an accident I swear” You look up to see the face of your poor unsuspecting target. 

Choso. 

For a second, he looked slightly upset. His dark brows drawn together as he scowls down at you. But the second he realized it was you, the resentment vanished. A softer expression paired with a smirk now in play.

“Maybe you should look where you're going,” He teases. So much for your plan to avoid him. You retract your hand to look at the stain, sticking out like blood on snow. 

“I’m really sorry, I’ll replace it.” You promise, shoving the soiled napkins inside your empty cup. He pinched his shirt, examining the damage himself. 

“Don’t worry about it, my fault for wearing a white shirt to this place.” He shrugs, indifferent to the ordeal. His eyes lift from your face, tracking the movements of someone shuffling behind you. In one swift movement, Choso wraps a large arm around your shoulders, pulling him flat against his broad chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch a silver-haired boy tumble to the ground, spilling his beer all over the floor where you had just been standing. “See what I mean” Choso laughs, releasing you from his grip.

You laugh awkwardly, not sure what even to say. First you make a mess all over him and then he saves you from encountering the same fate. 

“Let me buy you a drink.” You blurt out, catching his attention. “Partly for my accident, but partly to celebrate the great game you played.” He stares at you, bored. For a moment, you weren't sure if your words even reached his ears until he muttered a quiet:

“Sure.” 

He followed you through the crowd and back to the bar, the two of you sitting side by side. You wave Yu over, who whipped up another Black Flash to replace the one you spilled and slid a frosty mug of beer to Choso. 

The two of you drink in silence. You want to say something, but you're not sure where to start. There is too much weighing on your thoughts, dragging you down. The party last weekend, the upcoming project, tonight’s spill. As you sip the fruity drink, you notice him watching from the corner of your eye. Stealing glances your way, thinking you won't notice, while he waits for you to start speaking. When you continue to stay silent, he turns toward you on the bar stool, opening his mouth to make the first move. 

“Kamo! Get over here!” A loud male voice interrupts him before he can get his own words out. You both turn to see one of the hockey players, a tired looking man with a hooked nose. An indifferent look on his face that rivals even Choso’s usual expression, but the man’s skin is slightly flushed, indicating just how intoxicated he is. “Sukuna wants to give a speech.” 

“Be there in a second, Hiromi” He tells the man before turning to you. “Sorry, talk to you later.” Choso stands up with his beer and walks off to join the growing crowd of his teammates, throwing his arms around the man he called Hiromi and the younger silver-haired boy from earlier. 

“See you” You whisper quietly, turning back to face the bar. You let out an exaggerated sigh, washing away your worries with a large sip of your drink. 

“Geez, what’s got you down?” Yu’s voice grabs your attention as he wipes the counter in front of you with a wet rag. 

“Nothing...just..” The sound of the team cheering in the background cuts you off, allowing you time to hesitate, but Yu gives you a pleading look. Resembling a puppy begging for one more treat, the expression forces a smile to your face. In turn, you give in. Spilling every embarrassing detail from the last week and the plan to avoid Choso. He gives you his full attention, only pausing when another customer orders something at the bar. 

“That’s dumb” He says with a laugh after you finally finish your tale.

“I’m sorry?” you half-laugh, shocked by his reaction. You had just poured your soul out for him and he responded with two simple words.

“Well…it’s just silly.” He explains, picking up your empty glass and shaking it. A silent ask for if you want a refill, you shake your head no. “ Who hasn’t done a couple of stupid things drunk. Plus, I don't think Choso cares. I doubt he thinks differently of you after one crazy night, he’s actually a really nice guy, just a bit quiet. Give him a chance. Plus, I don’t think you'll succeed in ignoring him forever. You're just going to keep running into him like you did tonight.” Yu points out the facts, his voice gentle as he speaks factually. 

Reality sets in. It will be unrealistic to keep avoiding him. Kaisen University isn’t the biggest school, everyone’s friend circles seem to connect in one way or another. Lately, you can’t stop encountering the goalie. The longer you put it off, the more awkward things will become in the long run. Who knows, maybe you and Choso could end up a great pair. Two good friends if given the shot. You're going to have to rip the bandaid off eventually and face your fears. 

But not today.

“Thanks” You smile at him again, talking with the kind bartender was always helpful. Yu has always been a good listener, offering you helpful advice in turn. You notice the time on the clock behind the counter, it’s getting late. “I should probably go find Shoko” You tell him as you slip off of the barstool.

“See you later!” he calls after you, picking up your empty glass to clean.

You wander around the bar, looking around for your brunette friend. She was no longer playing pool and she wasn’t hanging around Yuki either. You checked the bathroom and she also wasn't there. Probably outside smoking a cigarette . You tell yourself, walking toward the metal door in the back of the bar that leads to the alley. You push through it, the door slamming shut behind you. 

Outside in the chilly air, you don't spot your friend at all. Instead, you see Choso again. He’s the only one out here, leaning against the brick wall with one foot pressed against the building. His head tilted up, eyes stuck on the moon as he blew out a puff of smoke from the cigarette between his fingers. The moonlight casts a glow on his features that make him look so ethereal, too beautiful for this world. 

You froze as you stared at him, torn between saying something or sneaking back inside unnoticed. Though the slamming door had other plans. The loud metallic clang alerted Choso, causing him to flinch, snapping his head to meet you. His eyes lock onto yours, looking even more tired than usual.

“Hey…” He whispers, exhaustion dripping from his tone.

“Hey.” You echo. Too late to escape now. You walk until you're standing next to him, back pressed against the wall to mirror him. He turns back to the moon, inhaling deeply on his cigarette. Silence spreads over the two of you, the only sounds are the crickets and the occasional car passing by. 

“Do you ever feel like…like you aren’t who you are meant to be?” Choso is the first to speak, eyes still on the night sky. The unprompted seriousness startles you, he doesn’t even give you time to respond before speaking again. “I’m just so tired all the time…trying to be someone I'm not. Everyone has such crazy expectations of me, to be the best at all times. The best student, the best goalie. They expect me to be some shining star in the center of the universe.”

He takes another long drag of his cigarette, the glittering cosmos above reflecting in his dark gaze.

“But…what happens when that star burns out?” He finally turns to face you, the true weight of his exhaustion etched into the bags under his eyes. His skin pale and dull, looking almost corpse-like now that you see him fully. How long has he been feeling this way?

“Choso…I…” You trail off, not even sure what you can say right now. In all truth, you have never felt this way. Your whole life there was always someone praising you, telling you how proud they were of your accomplishments. And even when you failed, you were comforted, being told ‘there is always next time’. You always felt like you belonged, like you were right where you needed to be. Always felt invincible, like you could do anything your heart desired and never gave up on your dreams. How could you say anything when you can’t relate? 

“Nevermind” He shakes his head when you fail to vocalize an encouraging notion, dismissing his suffocating thoughts. “Please…just forget I said that. Didn't mean to get all deep on you.” He quickly replaces his frown with a tiny welcoming smile, a mask to hide his internal turmoil. 

“Choso…no…” You reach out, wrapping a hand around his bare bicep. The sudden contact causes goosebumps to prick along his skin underneath your palm. “If something is wrong, you can tell me.” You lean against him, looking up into his eyes where you can still see the swirling turmoil. He whispers your name softly, shaking his head no.

“Everything is fine.” He tries to assure you. “We are supposed to be celebrating after all, I don’t want to bring the mood down.” He takes one more hit on his cigarette, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you, then pressing it against the wall to extinguish it. 

“Choso..” You plead, not wanting to give up. He is hurting internally, you can tell it.  

“It’s fine. I really don’t want to talk about it.” He stops you sharply, any follow up questions you had die before you can speak them. 

He suddenly brings his face close to yours, so close you can taste the harsh tobacco off his tongue. He narrows his eyes, looking at your parted lips. Your heart stutters inside your chest.

“Your lips…” He trails off, shamelessly staring. Successful in shifting the conversation away from himself. “They are all…red.” he remarks. A side effect of the black flash, that crimson liquid always stains everything. Counter tops, clothes, lips…you name it. 

“Yeah, it’s from the drink” You raise your thumb up, swiping it across your bottom lip in hopes of lessening the stain. His eyes track every movement, a wolf hunting his prey. He swallows hard before backing up, creating distance that is instantly filled with the cold autumn breeze. He shivers, likely regretting not wearing a jacket for his quick smoke break. 

“I should head back inside.” He walks toward the door leading back to the bar.

“Me too” You admit, palms slightly sweaty from his closeness, despite the low temperature. He holds the door open for you then follows you in. Offering a slight wave before he heads off to find his teammates again. 

You depart back on your quest of finding Shoko. Wandering around, checking all the usual places she runs off to and coming up empty handed. Come to think about it, you haven't seen the white and black hairs of your friends Satoru or Suguru either. Not since arriving. The bar patrons are starting to thin out too, many guests heading home for the night. You stand off to the side, in the dark corner where the broken pinball game sits, worry gripping your stomach as you pull out your phone and check the messages. Opening it to see a string of five texts and a few missed calls while you were outside with Choso.

[Missed call from Shoko]

Shoko: Where are you???

Shoko: Suguru wants to leave soon

Shoko: Hello??

Shoko: Satoru has a headache, we are leaving now

[Missed call from Suguru]

Shoko: Guess we are leaving without you

Great, they left you stranded. Again.

The sudden grip of a large hand on your shoulder drags you out of your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine. Finger pads pressing into your skin through the cloth of your shirt.

“You look lost.”

Taglist: @v1x3n @lavenderdaydream97 @simplyraeblue

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope eveyone is having a great holiday. Have a happy and safe New year!

Also, if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[princessbrunette]

playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

bunny!reader ♡

just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.

🎀 cassie — ditto

🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl

🎀 frank ocean — sweet life

🎀 coco & clair — pretty

🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather

🎀 flo milli — never lose me

🎀 cassie — miss your touch

🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes

🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar

🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)

🎀 angels — my boyfriends back

🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy

🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to

🎀 jhené aiko — maniac

🎀 fergie — clumsy

🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone

🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me

🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town

🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it

🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite

🎀 kali uchis — melting

🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys

🎀 cassie — long way 2 go

🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up

🎀 tom tom club — genius of love

🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress

🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric

🎀 marina — primadonna girl

🎀 madonna — material girl

🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu

🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong

🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me

kitty!reader ♡

listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.

🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum

🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush

🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep

🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game

🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’

🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die

🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me

🐈‍⬛ deftones — root

🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks

🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams

🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts

🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced

🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival

🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch

🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara

🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang

🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness

🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque

🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me

🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening

🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable

🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie

🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns

🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me

deer!reader ♡

she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.

🍪 shura — 2shy

🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs

🍪 april march — chick habit

🍪 benee — kool

🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne

🍪 the little dippers — forever

🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love

🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?

🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’

🍪 sza — prom

🍪 the penguins — earth angel

🍪 SALES — renee

🍪 cleo sol — sunshine

🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet

🍪 kate bush — cloud busting

🍪 mazzy star — halah

🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love

🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous

🍪 fiona apples — shameika

🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified

🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella

🍪 erykah badu — apple tree

🍪 mort garson — plantasia

🍪 sza — sweet november

🍪 quadron — sea salt

🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac

🍪 sade — lovers rock

🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade

🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly

🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom

🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale

🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar

🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park

🍪 tame impala — nangs

puppy!reader ♡

never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.

🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)

🐶 HAIM — summer girl

🐶 the la’s — there she goes

🐶 stacey q — two of hearts

🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck

🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back

🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day

🐶 dominic fike — babydoll

🐶 jungle — back on 74

🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you

🐶 duran duran — girls on film

🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23

🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me

🐶 matilda mann — bloom

🐶 HAIM — falling

🐶 311 — amber

🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland

🐶 lorde — ribs

🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows

🐶 stevie wonder — all i do

🐶 the human league — don’t you want me

🐶 the turtles — happy together

🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls

🐶 clairo — bags

🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield

🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way

🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely

🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts

🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on

🐶 tame impala — elephant

🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca

🐶 mgmt — boogie down

[wyfy-meltdown]

Nagisa has such a complex and emotional backstory (the one presented within Magia Record) and while I love the memes, I'd also love to see her analyzed the same way as the Holy Quintet girls more.

When it comes to Nagisa's relationship with her mother, it is clearly emotionally and verbally abusive in a very realistic way. Nagisa loves her mom. Her mom is still her mom despite everything, and Nagisa wants to love and forgive her. Nagisa also hates her mom; The mom who yells at her, is implied to hit her, and tells her she's wasting money and time. Nagisa tries her best to support and care for her mom despite everything; she acts like a hit dog still coming back to the hitter because it's all she has.

Speaking of dogs, I want to draw parallels between Nagisa and Inui. Kyuubey specifically mentions that another girl in similar circumstances* (*to Nagisa) wished to have the attention of the boy she liked; cut to Inui, who talks to Kyuubey about her worries with the Sleepwalking Ghost and her boyfriend. From this we can guess that Inui is impoverished, has a difficult relationship with her mom, and has the same goal as Nagisa; to be loved in a conditionless way by someone who endlessly hurts them.

Inui is a perfect parallel for Nagisa; Nagisa has become disillusioned with the concept of "love" to the point of viewing all fairytales and stories in a gloomy light; Nagisa has not been loved in the way a child needs to be loved, and so cannot fathom the type of carefree love shown in fairytales. Inui on the other hand is so desperate for the attention and love she hasn't gotten she's gotten into a relationship with (presumably) the first douchebag who showed any kind of interest in her; she craves a fairytale romance and to be swept off her feet by a prince and so in her mind Sho can't be anything but that prince. Both of them cling to their delusions and coping mechanisms while further being hurt by people supposed to love and protect them.

Nagisa resents her mother despite craving her affection; she considers using her wish to make her mom regret being unkind to her (a vengeful fantasy of an abused child [she hopes for an apology and for things to become perfect]) before finally settling on making her mom unknowningly seal her own doom (ie, the cheesecake).

Nagisa's cheesecake is an incredibly important object for both literal and symbolic purposes. She wished for it instead of saving her mother's life; It represents her final revenge against a woman who never treated her kindly. It also represents the unobtainable love Nagisa searches for even as Charlotte; "unable to make the cheese she loves" aka "unable to obtain love". There is a more uplifting (albeit dark) symbolism here too; that being Charlotte's unfortunate decapitation of Mami. Mami, who in Rebellion is Bebe's caretaker and mother figure, is eaten by Charlotte: Mami is the "cheese" Charlotte loves and has finally found.

Nagisa is abandoned by everyone: the only one who hasn't abandoned her is her mother, who is convinced Nagisa will abandon her. They have a vicious cycle of mistrust and dependence. Right before she becomes a witch, Yuu promises "I'll never leave your side"; after taking the only person who never abandoned Nagisa, Yuu promises "I'll never leave your side". Those were some of the last words Nagisa heard: the crippling loneliness, guilt, and betrayal that sunk in is what caused the birth of Charlotte. What makes it worse is those are words Nagisa was likely told by her parents at some point: afterall, parents will say anything to comfort their child, especially before something like hospitalization or leaving the family entirely.

Nagisa is 12 at her oldest possible age and 8 at her youngest possible age. She is a tragic figure on the same level as Sayaka, Kyoko, and Mami. The only true closure we have for her at the moment is her relationship with Mami (and the other Holy Quintet members) in Rebellion.