#everything circles back to com

[psychopomp-namine]

I'm watching chain of pronouns and idk if the phrasing in birth by sleep was intentional but it sure is neat.

the amount of stuff sora just Does Not Remember about riku though... (and we're not even getting into the meteor shower and the KH3 sacrifice)

the ending is so interesting because namine likens the un-remembered promise to the good luck charm that sora was already able to recognize. but ultimately, I think the good luck charm isn't related to the promise. because if sora was able to recognize the charm and return it to its original form, and the promise was "chained"/linked/associated to that charm, then he should've already remembered the promise namine was talking about.

I think it's popular opinion in the necklace theory that the charm was supposed to be the crown necklace, but I think it's a red herring. the charm already changed to the wayfinder charm when sora remembered. so it's not related to the meteor shower memory. it's supposed to serve as an example of what could happen if he remembers the promise namine said he forgot. imo!

so chain of memories (a game released in 2004) promises us a "thank namine" scene and that there's a precious promise that's waiting to be remembered, because doing so will unlock everything else sora has hidden in the shadows of his heart. okaaayyyy. okay okay okay. okay.

[oyasleepy]

i miss deviantart so so so so so fucking bad rn

[sister-lucifer]

hcs 4 toby giving bj 4 first time :3

Toby’s First Time Giving/Receiving a Blowjob Headcanons 

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader 

A/N: I know you probably meant Toby giving a blowjob for the first time but I wrote both because i can. enjoy the double feature

Genre: Smut headcanons 

Content/Warnings: Oral sex (obviously), Toby likes praise, face fucking, Toby gets a bit rough in his excitement but he doesn’t mean it, he’s just a feral, excitable horndog, scenarios for both AFAB and AMAB readers are included, use of dick, cock and cunt to describe genitalia

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Giving 

Oooohhh boy okay, listen 

He’s not exactly experienced 

Most of the people he went to high school with were incredibly put off by him and the like two who weren’t never went past making out 

He has no idea what he’s doing, you’ll have to teach him 

The good news? He’s very eager to learn 

If you have a dick he’ll try to deepthroat it IMMEDIATELY, regardless of the fact that he’ll choke like a fucking idiot, and you’ll have to practically yank him off of you 

If you have a cunt he’ll do the same thing except latching on way too fast and way too rough in a clumsy but genuine effort to pleasure you

Just hold tightly to his hair to keep him from ducking back down and gently instruct him to start slow 

You’ll have to be very detailed with your instructions, and he has no shame, so expect a lot of really specific questions 

“Should I-I keep flicking your clit with my tongue like th-that?” 

“Do you like w-when I circle your tip l-like that?” 

Etc, etc

And he’ll say it with 100% sincerity, because he really does want you to enjoy this

It takes him a minute to get the hang of it, but once he gets his rhythm he won’t stop until you’re begging him to 

It’s fun for him to watch you squirm and moan, it brings him just as much pleasure as it does you 

You can encourage him to keep going by scratching his head, running your fingers through his hair, and giving a little tug when he does something you particularly enjoy

Speaking of which, he responds very well to verbal feedback (re: praise) 

You can see his eyes light up when you call him a good boy or tell him he’s doing well 

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get him praise

Basically, he’s easy to train

Just keep telling him how well he’s doing, and be clear about what you enjoy 

He’s more than happy to comply 

Plus, it’s kinda hot to watch the drool and cum leak from the gash in his cheek as he eagerly laps up everything he can get from you

Receiving 

Well your first challenge will be getting him to sit still

He’s a hyperactive bastard and his excitement will manifest as restlessness 

It’s best to have him lying on his back to reduce the risk of possible injury, but he will still shake his legs and fidget with his sleeves as he watches you position yourself between his legs

He’ll try not to touch you at first because he’s not really sure what’s acceptable or not, instead opting to fumble with his fingers and gnaw on his knuckles 

He’ll be breathing heavily and mumbling to himself the whole time, before you’ve even gotten his cock out 

“I-I can’t believe you’re doing this for-for me…Y-You’re so nice to m-me…I-I don’t—fuck!—I don’t k-know what I’d do with-without you…”

And he’ll go on and on like that until you’ve sucked him so good he can’t talk 

He’ll forget his manners the closer he gets to cumming

He’ll get more and more needy and he’ll start to grab at your hair 

Unless you stop him, he’ll get rougher and rougher until he’s practically fucking your mouth, pulling and pushing your head back and forth by your hair and thrusting into your mouth 

He’ll have drool running down his chin and he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut, just completely desperate and messy

The best part is the way he’ll shamelessly beg to cum down your throat 

“Pleeeaaase, please, please, fuck—! I-It’s all I want, just let me—let me cum in your m-mouth, I need it! I-I’ve been a g-good boy, haven’t I?!”

If you don’t say yes he’ll literally cry 

But if you do, the absolute euphoria that’ll cross his face is more than worth it 

He’ll force you down on his cock as he releases down your throat, his back arching in an almost violent manner as he forces you to take everything he has to give

And he won’t let go until he’s completely done 

When you’re finally released from his death grip it’ll be because he’s gone limp, completely spent and barely conscious 

Give him a quick kiss before you go to clean up, he’ll lick your lips clean for you 

He’ll be riding that high for hours 

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤTAIL ME TO CHURCHㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Kurt Wagner x Fem Angel Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be With An Angel Darling?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Kurt saw you for the first time during a mission with the X-Men. You descended from sky like a gothic renaissance painting—glowing, regal, beautiful. Your voice rang out like a celestial choir that also wanted him dead. The moment your six cute, fluttering winged eyes turned toward him in horror, he was smitten.

You called him “demon spawn” with such elegance, he actually got flustered.

“Thou reek of sulfur and failure.”

“Thank you—wait, what?”

He tried to introduce himself and offer a hand. You floated over it. Not past it. Over it. Like his existence was something sticky you didn’t want to step in.

He 100% thinks he’s in love.

Logan says he’s into being insulted.

You say he’s “a furry manifestation of God’s worst joke.”

He tells people you’re just shy.

Your floating eyes adore him. They blink sweetly when he’s around, chirp like pigeons, and one of them even gave him a flower once. You hate that. You punish them by making them watch sermons.

Kurt talks to them like they’re cats.

“Hallo, kleiner augenfreunde! Did she tell you about me? No? She never stops talking about me—of course she did!”

You’re the opposite of what people expect an angel to be. You’re a narcissist with zero patience, a superiority complex the size of the sun, and no internal monologue.

You insist you loathe Kurt. Disgusting little demon.

But every time he prays, you mysteriously appear to scold him for “appropriating sacred rituals.”

Girl, why were you watching him pray?

This man’s main character flaw is blind optimism. You spit on his face (literally), and he’ll say, “She’s warming up to me.” You explode a building because he touched your wing, and he’ll smile through the blood.

“She said I was a disgrace. That’s two steps up from unholy vermin!”

Everyone else is watching this like a horror rom-com trainwreck.

You know everything about him. His birth year. His favorite food. The exact softness of his tail.

You dream about strangling him. Or marrying him. Or both.

You followed him to confession once and stood behind the priest, breathing dramatically. He nearly cried.

Your inner monologue: Stupid fuzzy rat. If he smiles at me again I swear to God I will decapitate him in my dreams and also braid his hair and also kiss him once and then kill him again.

Kurt is unwavering. You try to push him off a building? Teleports back.

You insult his tail? Offers to let you touch it.

You call him "an eldritch wet cat in spandex"? He blushes.

Eventually, you start talking to him without barbs. Just a little. One of your eyes starts hovering around him even when you’re not there. You start appearing to protect him, but only under the guise of “killing him later.”

“Touch him, and I’ll annihilate your bloodline. He’s mine to destroy.”

Kurt: beaming “She cares.”

He once walks in on you lecturing a broken mirror for reflecting you “incorrectly.” You’re in a silk robe, surrounded by fire.

He shrugs and offers you tea.

You start screaming about how tea is beneath you. He hands you your favorite kind. You stare.

You drink it.

Your floating eyes blink rapidly.

You’ve never sneezed in front of anyone. Because angels don’t sneeze. You told everyone this. Loudly. Often. But one day during a mission briefing, something in the dusty abandoned chapel hits your nose wrong and—

You let out the most pathetic, high-pitched “chu!”

And then immediately disintegrate a pew from embarrassment.

Kurt, blinking: “Gesundheit?”

You, glowing with shame: “I will erase this moment from your mind and soul, you putrid blue salamander.”

The floating eyes start circling him apologetically.

He still thinks about that sneeze at night. It was adorable.

One day He gives you a gift. Wrapped in silver paper, tied with a ribbon that matches your hair.

Inside: a custom eye mask. Six of them. Tiny. Embroidered with golden wings.

“For your augenfreunde. So they may sleep better, ja?”

You go feral. Shouting, flying ten feet in the air, glowing bright enough to cause minor sunburns. You accuse him of mocking your “divine protectors.”

He nods solemnly. “Of course. I will humbly accept any punishment you deem worthy.”

You glare at him.

You take the masks.

You tell him they’re “being incinerated.”

You lie.

That night, the little eyes float in a circle, sleeping peacefully in their tiny angeli masks.

Once during combat, your hair gets scorched. Not completely—but enough to reveal one eye. You freeze. Everyone freezes.

You’re panting, hurt, vulnerable.

Kurt immediately teleports in front of you, covering your face with his own tattered cloak.

“You are beautiful,” he whispers, reverent, not even trying to hide the awe.

You slap him.

You scream.

You kick him so hard he crashes into a tree and apologizes for being in your presence.

You vanish for three weeks.

When you return, your hair is longer.

Your eyes flutter around Kurt like shy children.

You still call him a disgrace, but now your voice wavers.

The first time you touch him you were injured. Bleeding golden-blue ichor that shimmers like mercury. You insist you’re fine.

You start to collapse.

He catches you.

You slap his chest. “Unhand me, heretic!”

But you don’t teleport away. You don’t fly off.

You just… sit there. On his lap trembling.

He whispers a prayer.

You roll your eyes so hard one of your floating ones spins in the air.

But your hand?

It grips his tail gently.

And when he flinches, thinking you’ll bite it off?

You curl your fingers around it and squeeze.

“Disgusting appendage… warm.”

He nearly passes out.

You eventually let him hold your hand. Only because you were “cold.”

You get jealous when he flirts with anyone else—even if you were trying to murder him that morning.

And even though you still call him a demon in public, at night you whisper prayers of confusion to whatever god cursed you with affection for that thing.

Maenwhile, Kurt thanks God daily for letting him fall in love with a celestial nightmare in heels.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 5: Falling Hard

prev chapter series masterlist next chapter

Chapter Summary: Harry is becoming increasingly attached to you, while you remain absorbed in your work. Despite your efforts to keep your distance, his persistence pulls you in somehow without you even realizing it. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 11,5k, oops, feelings!!! fluffy, rom-com and little angst... authors note: Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

Monday…

The building superintendent handed you the key to the penthouse you were tasked with cleaning. He pointed out where to find the cleaning supplies and outlined the dos and don’ts for the job. Although you were already familiar with these details, it was evident that the penthouse owner was either extremely meticulous or had a unique approach to things.

Donning your black maid uniform with the white collar, you loaded all the essential supplies into the elevator. Since you were heading to the top floor, you knew you needed to bring everything with you, and the other cleaners—who were incredibly kind—offered their assistance since it was your first day. It felt almost as if they had been instructed to help you, although you might have been less surprised if your boss wasn't someone like Jack. Nevertheless, you appreciated their kindness; you had landed the job you’d been searching for much sooner than expected, and you didn't want to question the situation too closely.

Once you stepped into the elevator, you didn’t bother to look back and see how many floors the attendant pressed. But you wished you could. The floor indicator ticked up: 28, 29, 30, 49, 59... Just how many floors did this building have? It finally reached 69, 70, 71, and 72 before the elevator chimed in to announce your arrival. If you hadn’t visited the Empire State Building and stood on its observation deck, this might have been the tallest building you had ever entered.

As you exited the private elevator, you turned right toward a large, wide door that led directly into the penthouse. Stepping inside, you couldn't help but gaze around in wonder. The penthouse was a two-story, full-floor duplex with ceilings towering about 14 feet high, providing stunning 270-degree views of the city.

From this high vantage point, the beauty of Columbus Circle and Central Park unfolded spectacularly alongside a stunning view of the Hudson River. Even the distant outlines of New Jersey and the airport were visible, while Harlem looked simply incredible from above. The building reach such heights that you felt almost level with the Empire State Building visible in the distance.

On the first floor, there were two-bedroom suites featuring a spacious living room, two adequately sized bathrooms, and a fairly large kitchen. One of the suites had a locked door, and the doorman mentioned that the landlord had specifically warned against entering that room. You found yourself curious about the reason behind it but ultimately shrugged it off; surely, there must be a good explanation. Perhaps the owner was someone who kept cash hidden away due to a distrust of banks, or maybe someone who was just a hoarder of illicit funds—who could say? You didn’t really mind as long as you were being compensated well for your work. 

Upstairs, you discovered the largest dressing room you'd ever encountered, along with a spacious bedroom, a generous bathroom, and a terrace that resembled a mini-garden. The walls were adorned with white plaster, and the beautiful oak hardwood floors featured a unique pattern, with seamless AC diffusers tucked into the corners. Between the living room and kitchen, there was a wet bar that was almost larger than the living room itself, stocked full of drinks. Two wine racks, a wine fridge, and a long counter occupied the space. Above it, a full glass cabinet showcased an impressive collection of wine glasses, clearly displaying its contents. Just around the corner sat the dining area, furnished with a table that could seat twelve. Every corner was lined with glass panels and columns, offering a stunning, panoramic view that made getting too close to the edge feel a bit precarious.

The sheer size of the house and its mesmerizing views left you unsure of where to begin your cleaning tasks. Fortunately, it seemed the landlord wasn’t a messy person. Aside from some unwashed dishes in the kitchen and a few scattered clothes in the dressing room, there wasn’t much to tackle. You hadn't encountered luxury homes like this often, and each experience made you a bit anxious. Typically, wealthy landlords tended to throw frequent parties, making cleanup afterward a real chore. Thankfully, it was clear that a single man inhabited this space; there were no signs of a woman or child around. The state of the sheets on the bed indicated he wasn’t a frequent one-night-stand type either. This was a relief, especially when recalling the dirty, grimy sheets you had encountered in other homes. Meticulous and solitary clients were truly the best. 

However, there was one aspect that unsettled you: the home security cameras.

Damn technology.

The owner could easily connect to them at any time from his phone or tablet. Since you’d never experienced anything like this at Jack's house, the presence of cameras here felt intrusive. But you tried to push the thought aside; they surely weren’t going to monitor your every move, were they?

After vacuuming the house and mopping the floors, you leaned against the wall for a moment to catch your breath. The chairs looked high-end, and you hesitated to sit down, feeling uneasy about using someone else's belongings, especially with all those cameras around. 

“Oh, I’m so thirsty,” you mumbled, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Frustration bubbled up as you recalled the water bottle back in your bag downstairs, the room where you changed was on the ground floor. Just then, you heard a noise coming from the kitchen, and you could have sworn you heard the sound of water.

Was the refrigerator actually filling a glass with water?

You blinked in disbelief. “Is it broken or something?” you wondered aloud. “Has technology really come this far that a fridge can respond to our needs?” But your throat was parched, so you decided to drink. To your surprise, when you placed the glass back, it started to fill again. Hesitant yet curious, you took another sip and jokingly told the refrigerator to stop. To your astonishment, it actually obeyed. “Is this place haunted or what?” you looked around. “Even ghosts are picky about where they hang out. I can’t blame you, buddy—if I were a ghost, I’d want to haunt a place like this too.”

You chuckled at the thought. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Harry looked up from his iPad, embarrassment crossing his face as Maria scolded him. He had completely lost track of the meeting. Disengaging the network communication with the fridge while keeping the app active in the background, he took out one earbud and tried to refocus on the discussion. However, the urge to laugh lingered, your voice still echoing in his mind. 

"This is the most fun I’ve ever had at work," he thought to himself. 

Once the meeting wrapped up, he headed to his office and opened the app again. A smile crept across his face as he saw you bustling around in the kitchen. For reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he derived joy from watching you wash the dishes. Zooming in on your face, he let out a deep sigh.  

“How can you be this beautiful?” he murmured.

He continued to watch you, lost in thought.  

“You really-,” Maria chimed in, hovering over him and staring at his iPad. “That’s not right, Harry.”  

Without tearing his eyes away from the screen, he snapped, “Don’t start.”  

“Seriously, go talk to her instead of watching her on camera like a creep,” she said.

“I did.”  

Maria leaned against the edge of the table. “And? Did she turn you down?”  

Harry swallowed hard and closed his eyes.  

“Wow, this girl is truly something. All right, as your buddy, I’ll help you win her over. I’ll be your wingwoman.”  

Harry rolled his eyes. “No need. I’ll handle it. I’ve hurt her enough already.”  

"Really? You think it'll be better if she finds out you've been watching her like this? Honestly, if someone did that to me, I'd want to kick their asses. I thought there were no more lies between you two."  

"I'm just trying to make things right. The company wasn't going to call her anytime soon, so I helped her get a job."   

“Well, I can’t be mad about that. Why don’t you invite her to the wedding? The invitation is for two, you know.”

“I know,” he sighed deeply.  

“You’re worried she won’t want to go with you.”  

“She keeps saying she doesn’t belong in my world,” he said ruefully. “I don’t want to pressure her.”  

“I get that, but you won’t lose anything by asking,” she said, standing up and heading towards the door. “And just a heads-up, Harry, don’t get too comfortable with her working in your place without knowing anything about it. The truth has a way of coming out eventually, so keep that in mind.”

Harry knew she was right, but he felt more helpless than ever. All he wanted was to be near you, to close the distance between. As he watched you walk toward his bedroom on the screen, he focused on how he could win your heart.

As you were changing the bed sheets, a familiar scent caught your attention, causing your heart to skip a beat. You picked up the pillow and took a whiff���it was the same as Harry's perfume. You smiled, remembering him, and thought about if he lived in a house like this, maybe even one a bit more luxurious. As you draped the new sheets over the bed, memories of your last conversation took hold. Part of you yearned to toss aside all your pride and aspirations, eager to leap into his arms. Yet another part of you felt terrified—more scared than ever before. The ache from that night in the hotel room was still fresh, and the thought of facing that pain again filled you with dread. 

All these years, you had pondered what love truly felt like. The relationship you once believed was love had ended, morphing into something you never wanted to undergo again.

You had sealed that chapter away. 

But this feeling was different, far from what you had experienced before. 

Could this be love?

Could it encompass both joy and heartbreak simultaneously? The answer frightened you, yet it also ignited a desire you couldn’t shake.

You wanted to belong to him, and deep down, you knew you couldn’t resist him for too much longer. 

And it frightened you.

Damn it, he occupied every thought.

No, you needed to clear your head.

After finishing up in the bathroom, heading back to the living room, your phone rang. It was Melanie, and she was a bundle of frustration. Jack made it clear he didn’t want her back and wouldn’t forgive her. Anger bubbled up as she said she wouldn’t live in your "disgusting little flat." 

“Then leave!” you shouted, exasperated. 

Hearing your voice, Harry looked back at the screen and wondered who you were talking to.

“Don’t you have any rich friends with big, fancy houses?” you asked. She certainly had plenty, but it looked like even they weren’t willing to lend a hand on a day like this. What a way to show friendship! 

“I already tried! None of them will help me because they’re scared of my father!” Melanie's voice was laced with desperation.  In the background, you could hear water running. “What’s wrong with this damn shower?” she yelled. 

“You’ll just have to wait; the hot water takes its sweet time,” you replied, dusting off the bookshelf with a cloth. 

“Oh great! Even the water in this pathetic house is terrible!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the phone, prompting you to pull it away from your ear. 

“Then why don’t you just go wash at the homeless shelter? It’s free!” you shot back. 

“Ha-ha! Very funny!” 

After hanging up the phone, you glanced at the clock, your stomach tight with hunger. You were almost finished, but the house was so vast that it would take you another hour. You sank into one of the kitchen chairs and rested your head in your hands. Just then, your phone rang again. With a sigh, you answered without checking the screen.

“I told you to get the hot water-”

“Hey, beautiful.”

You froze. It was Harry's voice.

“I was wondering if you would consider avoiding me over lunch?”

You exhaled sharply. “I can’t, I’m still not done here.”

“Let’s just grab lunch, and then you can get back to work. How would the owner even know?” He stifled a giggle.

“Actually, he does. There are cameras all over the house. Some people are just strange like that.”

“Smart move to have cameras in the house. He must be clever.” he bit his lower lip to stifle his laugh.

“Wait a minute, I didn’t tell you my job today is cleaning this place.”

There was a pause.

“But you're a housekeeper. Isn’t that what you do?” Harry mentally kicked himself for that slip.

“Um, yeah, right. Anyway, like I said, I can’t join you for lunch. Enjoy your meal.”

“But-”

You hung up the phone and rested your head sideways on the kitchen counter. Harry let out a frustrated sigh as he watched you on the screen, mirroring your position by placing his head down on his table. “You don’t know how much this hurts,” he muttered. “Seeing you so worn out and down. I could make it all easier for you. When will you let me?”

Just then, Oliver opened the office door and peeked in. “Hey, aren’t you going to lunch?”

“No, you go ahead,” Harry mumbled, still not looking up. As soon as Oliver left, a lightbulb went off in his head, and he grinned as he dialed a number on his phone.

“But I didn't order this.” 

As you were in the middle of ironing, you noticed the elevator bell ring and saw the delivery guy from the Chinese restaurant at the door. 

“Well, this was sent by the cleaners downstairs. They insisted I bring it to you since they ordered it for themselves,” he explained, his words tumbling out quickly and nervously. It was clear he was in a rush, but the delicious aroma from the food wafted through the air, making you squirm to eat something.

“Okay, thanks then,” you replied. “How much do I owe you?” Then you remembered that you had left your bag downstairs and sighed.

“No, no, no, it’s already paid for. Bye, ma’am,” he said, stepping back into the elevator and pressing the button. 

“Bye,” you mumbled, waving farewell. After he left, you picked up the bag, walked inside, and set it on the kitchen counter. You bit your lip in excitement as you began unpacking the food. You were so hungry that the thought of being watched on camera didn’t bother you; after all, your back was to it.

“Eat well, kitty,” Harry murmured, checking you. The young man who delivered your meal had just brought his order to his office and now he was now enjoying his own food while watching you—unbeknownst to you, you were both savoring the same meal.

Once you finished eating, you tackled the rest of the ironing and neatly put everything away in the wardrobe. You noticed there were quite a few suits and casual clothes in there. It struck you as peculiar that they all seemed to reflect Harry's style, but you brushed it off, thinking that plenty of other people must dress similarly. 

Finally finished in the afternoon, you gathered all the cleaning supplies and made your way to the elevator.

“She works like a bee,” Harry remarked, glancing at you as you dragged the supplies into the elevator. He was packing up to head home. 

Yes, the very same house you had just meticulously cleaned.

At that moment, your phone rang again. It was Melanie. You let out a deep sigh before picking up, feeling a surge of annoyance. “What now?” 

“Did you talk to my dad? You’re the only one who can convince him—please,” she pleaded.

What the fuck?

Pleading now, huh?

Bitch must be desperate.

“Who said I would?” you said, pushing the vacuum cleaner into the elevator. “Why would he listen to me? He kicked me out too, remember? I warned you, Melanie! I warned you from the beginning that this was how it would end.”

“Did you just say ‘Melanie’?” Harry murmured.

“Because of you, I lost my job and...”

I fell for someone I shouldn't have.

“Then call your boyfriend and let him sort it out! I can't stick around here any longer!” she barked.

“My boyfriend?” you exclaimed in disbelief.

Harry's surprise matched yours. “Boyfriend?” he echoed, frowning as he focused intently on the screen.

“Harry is not my boyfriend!” you shot back.

“Oh really? He was banging on the door of our house like crazy that day, looking for you,” Melanie said.

You sighed in resignation. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“You really believe that, beautiful?” Harry muttered. “Then you clearly don’t know me at all.”

“Whatever! I need to do something—anything—to get Dad's attention,” you replied, your frustration mounting.

“It’s none of my concern. Do what you want,” you snapped, hanging up the phone and pressing the elevator button.

“Oh, she's gone,” Harry said, pursing his lips. He closed his iPad, slipped it into his briefcase, and left his office.

As you stepped out of the building and made your way toward the subway, the sky was gradually darkening. You attempted to call Jack again; you really needed to do something to help Melanie find a place to stay. She was like a ticking time bomb, and you were tired of dealing with her drama. Unfortunately, he didn’t answer, still seemingly caught up abroad. Frustratingly, you were left with only one option—the one you most dreaded: reaching out to Melanie's mom. But that fell flat too, as a maid informed you that she was busy attending some special event. Clearly, that was more important than her own daughter. But you knew you had to tackle this tonight. 

When you got home, Zoe was eating food at the table and waved at you. “How was your day, honey?”

“It would’ve been fine if someone hadn’t been calling me constantly and whining,” you replied, casting a glare in Melanie's direction.  

She looked somewhat out of place in your homewear outfit.

“Listen, your mom is attending a charity event tonight. Why don’t you go there? She can give you a ride home while your dad is away, and maybe she’ll help mend things between you and Jack. After all, you are her daughter.”

Melanie shrugged like a petulant child. “She doesn’t care about me.”  

Well, she had a point.  

“I’ll go with you and try to convince her, okay?”  

Her eyes brightened. “You’d really do that?”  

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”  

“Let's go now!” she exclaimed, rushing for the door.  

“Are you sure about this?” Zoe asked.  

“You want to get rid of her, right?”  

“I definitely do, but what if it becomes a hassle for you?”  

“Don’t worry; I’ve dealt with worse,” you said with a wink.  

“Oh no!” Melanie moaned.  

“What’s wrong now?” you asked, turning to her.  

“I have no clothes! What am I going to wear? All of your clothes are terrible.”  

“What the—” Zoe snapped, shooting her a glare.

“I’m this close to changing my mind,” you said, squinting at her and gesturing with your fingers.

She crossed her arms defiantly. “If this is a private event, there’s no way I can go there dressed like this. They wouldn’t even let us through the door. Oh, wait! I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, whipping out her phone to call someone.  

Of course, it was exactly who you suspected.  

Nate.

"I hate my life," you muttered under your breath as Nate's limo pulled up alongside the street.

"Good night, ladies. Need me desperately huh?" 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, feeling the frustration bubble up inside. 

“Shut up chucklehead! Did you bring the dress?” Melanie shot back at him.

“It’s inside, so come on and change babe,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Without a second thought, Melanie hopped in, but you hesitated. 

"I brought you one too, babydoll. Why not wear it? I'd be happy to help," he grinned wickedly.

“I wouldn’t wear that even if it was the only dress left in the world,” you snapped back.

He let out a maniacal laugh. Once Melanie finished changing, she called you over, and reluctantly, you climbed in. The charity event was being held in a private hotel reception hall. Just as Melanie had warned, the door staff were strict about who they let in. The guests were all dressed in tuxedos and elegant dresses, an atmosphere that highlighted your discomfort.

“Listen up, four eyes,” Melanie fired at the doormen. “My mother, Roxelana Johnson, is in there, and I’m her daughter, Melanie Johnson. Let me in now, or I’ll create quite a scene!”

“You’d be surprised how scandalous she can be,” Nate added with a smirk. “My father has covered up plenty of scandals, but maybe tonight he'll let the hotel earn a notorious reputation. And guess what? You’ll be the one to blame for it. After all, you know my father—the whole of New York does.”

They exchanged glances, and eventually, they allowed them to pass. But you were left standing outside. There was no chance they'd let you in looking like this. Frustration washed over you as Melanie and Nate didn't even look back.

What the hell?

You just stood there, questioning your decision to come at all.

"Why did I even bother?" you whispered to yourself. 

They could have walked in wearing anything, thanks to their wealthy father, but you didn't have that kind of privilege. You had no wealthy father, no reputation.

“I’m such an idiot,” you grumbled, turning to head toward the exit when suddenly someone called out to you.

Oh no. 

Alan appeared before you, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, and with a woman on his arm.

Fuck my luck, you thought.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” he said with a smile. 

“Same here,” you replied, feeling a tad anxious. 

“Why don’t you come in?” 

“I was actually just leaving, Alan. Clearly, I’m not dressed for this. Good night,” you said, glancing at him and his date. 

That’s when your phone rang. It was Harry. 

Perfect timing.

“Harry, this really isn't the best time,” you answered. 

“Why not? Are you okay?” 

“Let the lady through. She’s my special guest,” Alan interjected, gesturing to the doormen. 

You immediately turned your back. “Alan, there’s really no need for that.” 

“Did you say Alan? Why are you with him? Where on earth are you?” Harry growled from the other end of the line. 

You hung up and looked at Alan. The woman beside him shot you a strange look. “Alan, it wouldn't be right for her to go in looking like that anyway.” 

Alan ignored her gaze, stepping away from his date to approach you. “You can go in first, Lucy.” 

She looked taken aback but narrowed her eyes at you before complying. 

What was her deal? 

“Alan, you didn’t have to do that; you brought your date. You should go with her.” 

“Don’t worry about it. It looks like you’re dealing with something. Lemme help you.” 

“Honestly, it’s been a long day. All I want is to go home and unwind.” 

“Where are you? I’ve been looking for you!” 

You heard Melanie's voice and turned to see her. She looked at Alan and then back at you. 

Finally, you stepped inside. Alan offered you his arm, but you gently pushed it away. The moment you entered, however, you noticed everyone staring at you oddly. You were used to it, though. Melanie’s mom, Roxelana, didn’t look pleased to see you or even Melanie. They had a small chat and instead of sending her daughter home, she decided it was better to make alternative arrangements for Melanie to stay. Without missing a beat, she turned her attention to her friends, completely ignoring her daughter’s presence.

Yeah just like that. 

Melanie was accustomed to her mother’s self-centered behavior, so it didn’t bother her too much. As her spirits began to lift, she and Nate decided to stay for the rest of the night. But you felt the urge to leave. When Alan introduced you to a few guests, you were taken aback when he referred to you as the assistant chef at his hotel. 

Why the hell was he being so kind to you? 

The others, however, were anything but kind. The way they looked at you was unsettling and harsh. They maintained eye contact that felt uncomfortable, speaking about you in a derogatory manner. It was clear they didn’t care if you overheard or were hurt by their words. 

You didn't belong there. You felt it deep in your bones. 

You had intended to leave anyway, but when Roxalena approached and dismissed you so coldly—accusing you of embarrassing her—you turned and hurried out. No one at the event seemed to notice your departure; some even let out a sigh of relief. 

What did you expect? Was it not obvious this was how things would go?

As you made your way to the lobby, you heard Alan’s voice calling after you, but you didn’t stop; you only quickened your pace. You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you stepped outside through the revolving door, yet Alan followed you. 

“Why did you leave?” he asked. “Look, don't mind them, okay?” 

“How can I not?” you retorted. “Why did you even let me in? What were you expecting?” 

Alan reached out, gently brushing away a tear from your cheek. 

Were you crying? 

Damn.

You hadn’t even realized it. 

A sudden screech of tires caught your attention as a car came to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel. Harry jumped out and rushed towards you. The moment he spotted your tears, he seemed to lose it, pushing Alan's hand away with enough force to make him stagger. 

“What did you do to her?” he shouted, taking a step toward Alan. 

“Harry! Stop!” you exclaimed, extending your arm to block him. 

Alan simply smiled, which only fueled Harry's anger. 

"It’s not what you think; please, calm down,” you urged, grabbing Harry's arm. 

Ignoring him, Alan turned back to you. “I’ll see you at the hotel then. Good night,” he said, and you nodded. “Good night, Castillo,” he added awkwardly before walking back inside. 

Harry glared after him, his jaw tight, muttering under his breath. 

What on earth was going on between them? 

“How did you know I was here?” you asked. 

“I was invited tonight,” he replied, still focused inward, not meeting your gaze. “But I turned it down,” he said, taking your arm gently. “Come on,” he insisted, tugging you towards his car. 

“But I—” 

“Get in,” he ordered, his tension palpable as he closed the door a bit too roughly before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Harry pulled up his car on the street in front of your building, parking awkwardly on the sidewalk. You bit your lower lip to stifle a laugh. 

"You might want to reposition the car; there's still space on the curb," you suggested, glancing at the sidewalk in the rearview mirror.

"Instead of thanking me for the ride, are you being sarcastic?" he asked, a lopsided grin on his face.

You barely mumbled, "Thanks."

"Why were you at that place?" he asked.

"Because of Melanie, but that's not important anymore. I've handled that situation; there's truly nothing left to talk about," you replied, looking down at your hands in your lap.

A tense quiet settled between the two of you. 

“You,” he cleared his throat, “You always manage her this way all that time. Why?"

You hesitated, unsure how to understand his inquiry. "Why what?"  

"Why did you decide on this job?"  

You shrugged. "I didn’t get accepted into any top university or secure a high-profile position. When I got here, this seemed like the simplest option. I had already been taking care of the house after my mom passed away," you said, a trouble laugh escaping your lips. “I could never manage waitressing like Zoe; that job is simply not for me.”

“But your dream is to be a pastry chef,” he said thoughtfully.

"To make that dream a reality, I need to work hard, save money, and eventually open my own restaurant. At Jack's place, I didn’t have to stress about rent, food, or even clothes; it felt like a closer step to my dreams. I thought if I could just endure anything, I’d save enough. But then there's Melanie..." You lowered your gaze once more. “Anyway,” you said, brushing a stray hair from your face. "I'm going to push on, I'm going to have my bakery one day," you said with determination.

He reached for your hand and took it, his touch surprising you as it always did. 

“Let me help you get started with the restaurant.”

"Harry—"

“As a loan,” he interrupted. “Think of it as an investment; I believe in your potential. When your restaurant gains traction, you can pay me back.”

"That sounds a bit too idealistic, don’t you think? I thought you were more of a realist or a materialist?"

The intensity in his eyes deepened. “That perspective changed when I met you.” His gaze drifted to your lips as he leaned in closer. Your heart raced, but you instinctively pulled back. Your hair brushed against his face, causing him to close his eyes and smile softly.

You grasped the handle of the car door. “I should probably get going now.”

"Are you free this weekend?"

Turning to him, you responded, "I'll be at the hotel helping Chef Bruno."  

“At Alan's hotel,” he retorted harshly.  

"Is there some issue between you and him?"  

"You should stay away from him."  

"Excuse me?"  

"Can't you work somewhere else? There are plenty of other chefs."  

"Don't pull that with me.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You're acting like you’re my husband.”  

Harry grinned at how the words slipped from your lips. “Your future husband.”  

You raised an eyebrow. "Says who?"  

"Me." He flashed a smile.  

You rolled your eyes and opened the door. “Good night, Harry.”  

“Hold on,” he said, reaching for your door and shutting it again.  

“I’m invited to a friend's wedding this Sunday night. I want you to come with me.”  

"Why on earth would you want to go with me? I’m sure there are plenty of women who would kill to go with you," you replied with a hint of sarcasm.  

He frowned, "Cut it out. I want to go with you, not them."  

As you looked into his eyes, memories of the previous moments crept back—the way people had stared at you. You knew it would only intensify when they saw you and Harry together. It wasn't your realm, and the fear of being hurt loomed over you.  

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't go."  

“Yes, you can,” he insisted.  

You shot him a glare.  

“Just think about it before making up your mind,” he said, flashing his charming smile.  

He never gave up.  

“Give me your phone,” he said, reaching out.  

“Why should I?” you asked, frowning.  

“I realized you don’t follow me on Instagram,” he mumbled, searching for your phone while glancing over at you.  

"What did you say?”

Suddenly, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, causing you to gasp as your heart raced in your throat. As he tightened his hold, your back arched, his other hand slowly slid up your leg and pulled your phone out of your pocket. He laughed softly as he let you go, leaving you feeling tricked when you noticed your phone in his grasp.

“Hey! Give that back!” you shouted, lunging at him, but he leaned back out of your reach.

“Here, now you're following me, and I'm following you,” he said, flashing your phone. "Why is there nothing on your profile? The last post was six months ago."

Ah, that was a photo of you and Zoe at the beach in Florida, six months prior.

“Nice bikini,” he commented with a grin. "I need to like it right away. You’d better like mine too."

"Really? I had no idea you were into Instagram," you snapped, reaching for your phone, but he showed no signs of giving it back. “Hey, what are you doing?” you exclaimed as he opened his profile from your instagram, liking all his photos while giggling.

“Cut it out,” you growled.

He acted like a mischievous child.

Once he was satisfied with his likes, he handed your phone back to you.

"Happy now?"

He grinned and nodded. “Yep.”

You felt the urge to slap him, but damn, that face.

His ridiculously handsome face.

“Okay, if we’re done here, I’m heading home to get some rest,” you said, opening the door.

“Hey, you look so cute here, like a little kitten,” he teased, showing you one of your Instagram photos.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped outside and closed the door behind you. “You better put that phone away while driving,” you frowned.

He rolled down his window and looked at you. "Why? Worried about me?"

“No, I’m worried about this stunning car,” you mocked.

“Yeah, right. Keep saying that, kitty. I know you better than that,” he said suggestively, winking at you before starting the car and driving off. 

Tuesday…

The next day, as you woke up and read the message from the cleaning company, you could hardly believe your eyes. It said, "The owner was very pleased with your service. He'd like you to come back on Thursday. If it works for you, we’d love to schedule you for Mondays and Thursdays moving forward. I’ve also credited your account with the tip he left for you. Thank you for your hard work and for partnering with us."

When you opened the app to check your bank account, you sat up in bed and even stood up in disbelief. Was this real? Typically, tips hover around 10% of your earnings, and if you’re lucky, you might get a 20% tip from especially generous clients. But this customer had tipped you more than 50%. If you kept earning like this, your weekly pay could turn out to be much better than you ever imagined. It brought you joy, but a nagging suspicion lingered. The house hadn’t been particularly messy or dirty, so you hadn’t exerted yourself much while tidying it up. Perhaps he was just a generous soul, and you decided to sincerely thank him.

However, Thursday still felt far off, and with the company notifying you that there was no other work until then, it made you uneasy. They reassured you that you’d receive general payment every two weeks, but something didn’t sit right. You pulled out your phone to investigate the company online, and that’s when a message from Harry popped up.

Harry sent you a photo. After a moment of deliberation, you felt compelled to change his contact name. You opened your contacts, found his number, and edited it, removing "H.C." and replacing it with "Mr. Ol'man" before saving it. You chuckled at the change, amused by your little joke. 

You clicked on the photo, noticing Harry was already at work. The image showed him in the middle of a meeting, chin resting on his hand, lips pursed. Directly below the photo, he’d written,

B-O-R-I-N-G, I wish I had my kitty with me. 😓😓

He used emojis???

You couldn’t help but laugh; he was undeniably adorable.

You texted back, "I wish I could be there to..."

Wait, what?

Were you his girlfriend? You quickly deleted the whole thing. 

Hang in there, monsieur. 😊 It’s tough, but I’ll manage. ☺️ You’ll get through it; trust your biceps. 💪 Were you dreaming about my biceps? What was that like? Nasty? Filthy? 😏 😉😌😇😚 Don’t you dare make a cleaning joke!

The banter made you both laugh; it was fine since you were at home, but Harry was in a meeting, earning surprised glances from those around him.

Since you didn’t have work that day, you decided to drop by to see Danilo and the others. Apparently, Jack was still away, and neither Melanie nor her mom was home—perfect timing. You spoke with Danilo about Chef Bruno and the cooking certificate you aimed to obtain. He mentioned a pastry fair soon to be held at a convention center in NYC, emphasizing how crucial it was to participate and showcase your talent. But first, you needed that certificate, and weeks were slipping by.

You had paused the certification program while working at Jack's house—understandably so. However, that time frame had lapsed, so it was time to restart the petition. That’s why securing Bruno’s reference for your application was so vital. Everything had to be ready before the fair, leaving you with no time to waste. As Bruno’s shift started at noon on weekdays, you resolved to visit him during your free hours—and thankfully, he didn’t turn you away. In return, you promised both to him and yourself that you would work hard and strive not to disappoint him.

Wednesday…

On the way to the hotel, Harry called you, and when you shared where you were going, he got a little whiny. Whatever issues had arisen between him and Alan didn’t concern you anymore; you simply didn’t have time for either of them. In a way, it was a blessing that you were busy with the certificate training because if you weren’t, thoughts of Harry would have preoccupied your mind, stirring up feelings you had never experienced before. It felt as though you were being drawn towards him, and you worried about losing control of your heart. So, it seemed best to avoid being alone with those feelings.

The less you saw him, the easier it was to keep him off your mind, which was for the best.

But he was persistent. 

When you arrived at the hotel during lunchtime, Bruno was sitting with a newspaper and a cup of coffee, getting ready for his shift. He assigned you the ambitious task of preparing the desserts for lunch, which could very well be the biggest job you’d had so far. Still, it was far better than scrubbing someone’s filthy toilet bowl with bleach. You focused on preparing the desserts and took a seat next to Bruno, feeling the fatigue set in.

Just then, a waitress approached you.

“Ugh, it’s one of those customers again!”

“What’s going on?” you asked while stretching your legs out under the table.

“He has a complaint about dessert and wants to talk to the chef who made it.”

You exchanged glances with Bruno. “I swear I did it perfectly,” you protested.

“Then go defend your work, my dear. That’s a lesson you need to learn,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

You stood up and took a deep breath, confident that you had indeed done everything right. Surely, this customer just had high standards or a grumpy ass.

You were taken aback when you stepped into the dining room and saw Harry. He flashed a grin when he noticed you and leaned back in his chair. You narrowed your eyes as you approached him. 

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“Just having lunch like everyone else,” he replied casually.

“Isn’t there anywhere else you could eat?”

He pulled out his phone and showed you a recommendation app featuring the hotel with a glowing review. “They rave about the chef and the food here—look, it’s rated 4.8.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m not a chef yet, Mr. Castillo.”

“But you made this dessert,” he countered.

“True, but clearly it didn’t meet your expectations.”

“I never said that.”

“Yet you wanted to see me.”

“To ask if you’d join me for lunch,” he said, leaning over the table and resting his arms on it.

“I’m on the clock,” you reminded him.

“Please, I insist.”

You leaned in closer. “Or is it that you want me fired because you don’t want me working here?”

He smirked. “If that were my aim, I’d find a more subtle way to go about it.”

You sighed. “Harry, please, I really have to work.”

“I’ve missed you and thought it would be nice to savor something you made during my lunch break,” he said, sounding genuinely sincere. “But I suspect your stomach is growling; you probably skipped breakfast. Why not give the dessert a try? I have a feeling there’s something unusual about its fruits.” He nudged the plate toward you. “As a paying customer, I expect nothing less than the best.”

With a roll of your eyes, you reluctantly picked up the plate. “Alright, Mr. Castillo, let me show you that you’re mistaken.” You took a forkful and sampled the dessert. “See, I think it's quite fresh.”

“I’m still not convinced. Have some more,” he said, barely containing his laughter. “Otherwise, I might have to leave a bad review on that site.” He glanced at the others around.

You shot him a sharp glare and quickly finished off the dessert, clearly not bothering to be polite. “Are you happy now?” 

“That's my girl,” he whispered, chuckling softly.

“Please give us good points, Mr. Castillo,” you said with a forced smile, relieved that the people around you were preoccupied with their own meals and hadn’t noticed your exchange. 

Harry stood up, reached for your lips, and swiped the remnants of dessert with his thumb, licking it clean. “Hmm, you were right—it’s delicious,” he said with a grin. “Have you made up your mind? Will you come with me?”

Oh, right, you had completely forgotten. 

“Shall we go dress shopping? What time do you need to leave?” he asked, glancing at his watch.

“Harry, I really shouldn’t go.” 

He took your hand, his grip firm. “No, it’s better if you do.”

“But your friends, your circle, your acquaintances will all be there.”

“And?”

“What will you say when they ask about how we met? How will you introduce me?”

“That’s none of their business. I don’t care about any of them; all that matters is that you’re with me.”

You lowered your gaze. “But I do care.”

He pinched and lifted your chin, his gaze intense. “Don’t do this. You know how much I care for you. I know you do.”

You locked eyes, and for a moment, the clatter of forks, spoons, plates, laughter, and conversations faded into silence. You were on the verge of saying yes, of becoming his, but you shook yourself back to reality when someone called you from the kitchen.

“I have to go,” you murmured.

“I’m picking you up Saturday night, and we’re going dress shopping,” he said, and before you could reply, he turned and walked away.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him leave.

Thursday…

You left the house at the same time as Zoe that morning, rushing to avoid being late for work. It was nearly 8 o'clock, so you hurried along the sidewalk, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you ran.

“Crap. Crap. Crap.” 

By the time you reached the building, it was just after 8, but fortunately, you managed to avoid a scolding. Just like on Monday, you quickly changed, grabbed your cleaning supplies, and hopped into the elevator heading to the top floor. When you opened the door to his apartment, he was already on his iPad, waiting for you with a smile. “Seven minutes late,” he smirked. 

"What are you doing?" Maria appeared next to him, and upon seeing you on the screen, she narrowed her eyes at Harry. “Again?” 

“I was just checking,” he replied defensively.

“Yeah, right.”

Harry let out a sigh and flipped the iPad over onto the table. “She didn’t leave me much choice. I offered to help her, but she’s so stubborn and prideful. She left me feeling desperate.”

Maria raised her eyebrows, intrigued. “Seriously? Wow, I’m impressed. I thought women like that were a thing of the past. She must be one of a kind.”

“Yes, she is,” he said, looking troubled. “For the first time in my life, I’m not happy about having money. To her, my wealth doesn't matter. What good is money if she’s not in my life?” 

Maria smiled softly. “Harry, she might just be feeling scared or hurt right now. Just give it some time; if it’s true love, it will work itself out. But I have to be honest, it might be a bit challenging for you.”  

“I get it,” he replied with a sigh. “I’m really trying.”

"I am your witness champ. You'll win her over." she patted him on the back.

After she left, he opened his laptop to work but found himself too curious about you to focus. He picked up his iPad again to check on you. He watched as you swept and mopped the house, dancing around and murmuring songs while doing it. He couldn’t help but chuckle quietly when he saw you scrubbing the sink with a frown, grumbling to yourself as you battled the dirt.

Saturday...

“What in the world happened to you?” 

As soon as you got back from the hotel and walked into the house, you were stunned by what you saw. Zoe was sprawled out on the couch with her ankle all wrapped up, and John was right there with her. 

“Oh, just a little accident,” she grumbled. 

“It’s totally my fault,” John said, sounding really upset. 

You dropped your keys and bag on the table and went over to check out her leg. 

“John wanted to pick me up on his motorcycle after work, but I guess that plan got derailed,” Zoe said with a half-smile. 

“It’s not broken, is it?” 

“Nope, just a sprain,” he replied, looking glum. 

“Then why do you look like you’re on your last legs?” 

“I can’t go to the wedding tomorrow like this,” she said sadly. 

“Then just skip it.” 

"Besides, the doctor said you won't be able to stand on your foot for a few days." John added.

“But the pay is really good,” Zoe whined. “The boss is gonna be mad, and I’m sure he won’t call me again.” 

“C’mon, it’s a medical issue,” you said, frowning. 

“Our boss isn’t as easygoing as yours,” she sighed. 

Well, that was kind of true. 

“She’s got a point, Zoe. I’ll talk to him,” John offered. “Maybe I can get that kid from last time to cover for you. What was his name?” 

“Nick? No way! There’s no chance the boss will hire him again after that mess,” Zoe muttered, then looked at you. “Babe. Can’t you go instead?” 

You stared at her in disbelief. “Me? But you know I’m not great at waitressing.” 

“You’d totally be better than Nick,” she insisted. “Plus, John will be there to help you, right?” she said, looking at him. 

John nodded. “Sure, we’re leaving early anyway. You just have to handle serving drinks. I promise I won’t wear you out.” 

You sighed and glanced from him to Zoe’s pleading eyes. 

“Alright, fine,” you murmured.

Sunday, the day of the wedding...

“Guess what? Your tuxedo is here—perfectly pressed and ready to wear,” Oliver announced as he walked into the apartment. Harry was at the window, staring out at the beautiful city lights, his whiskey glass in hand, the ice nearly melted. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly realized it.

You had called him about half an hour ago to let him know you couldn't make it to the wedding and hung up without realizing the depth of the hurt you had caused him.

“The dress and accessories you ordered have arrived too,. Where should I put them?”Oliver asked, glancing at Harry, who still hadn't responded. The dress had been bought for you, with the hope that you would be there by his side.

Harry turned sharply, slamming the glass down on the counter as he looked at Oliver. “Somewhere I won’t see them,” he replied curtly before heading off to the bathroom to shower and prepare himself.

Oliver let out a deep sigh. “So she’s not coming,” he muttered to himself, a hint of worry in his voice.

They arrived a bit early since the wedding kicked off with a church ceremony. Maria, noticing Harry's somber demeanor and understanding the reason behind it, felt a wave of concern mixed with anger. Yet, as his friend's best man, Harry set his own feelings aside for the day, striving to support him through the difficult moments.

It was tough.

He longed for you to be there with him, wanting to introduce you to his friends and proudly declare, “Here’s my future wife.” 

He felt a mix of anger towards you, but even more frustration with himself. Why couldn’t he make things work? Why was this time so different? He thought back to his previous relationships, and suddenly, all the emotions from those experiences felt trivial compared to the warmth of your genuine smile—the one he missed dearly.

Things took a turn for the worse upon arriving at the reception venue. The empty chair beside him at the reserved table served as a painful reminder of your absence. Conversations swirled around him about life's changes, but he spoke only of work, avoiding the topic he truly wanted to share.

Then he spotted her.

Lucy.

To his surprise, he felt nothing.

It was a strange peace that washed over him, as if a burden had been lifted from his heart, shoulders, and mind. But soon enough, the resentment toward you crept back in. Lucy glanced curiously at the empty chair next to him, a slight smile gracing her lips as she noticed his solitude. She had come to the wedding with her new boyfriend, Alan Finnegan—a widower and wealthy businessman who owned three hotels in Manhattan. Seems like a good match for her.

Harry felt a sense of satisfaction, not because his ex wouldn’t hurt him anymore—he had already stopped caring about that. No, his pleasure came from knowing that Alan was off the market. With Alan in a relationship, it meant he wouldn’t be trying to make a move on his girl now.

Later, someone approached Harry to inform him that the groom was looking for him. Rising from his seat, he made his way over to the room where he found his friend pacing restlessly.

“Harry! Dude, don’t ever get married!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with stress.

Harry raised an eyebrow, checking his watch. “Come on, man, you’ve only been married for three hours. Besides, it's your wedding reception.” he shot back sarcastically.

“Ugh! Everything is a mess! Gabriela is unhappy with the flowers, her cousin’s late, the harpist is hurt, and our moms just had a huge argument! I feel like I’m drowning! Should I just jump out the window?” 

With a chuckle, Harry placed his hands on his shoulders. “Relax; we’ll figure this out. Oliver is currently searching for a replacement harpist. Today is the most important day of your life—you’ve been waiting for this forever. Just hold it together.”  

“Yeah, you’re right. Okay,” he replied, trying to steady his nerves.  

“Take a deep breath and remember why you’re here. Soon, it’ll just be the two of you together—nothing else will matter. Just get through tonight, and I’ve got your back, alright?”  

He pulled him into a warm embrace. “Thanks, man! I really appreciate you being here. I’ll do my best to make your wedding as great as possible.”  

Harry smiled to himself as he pictured you in a breathtaking wedding dress.

After leaving his friend to deal with the flower situation, he noticed a woman at the end of the hall with her back turned. She had your hair color and height, moving in a way that felt distinctly like you.  

Driven by curiosity, he quickened his pace, eager to find out if it really was you.

"Damn it!" you muttered to yourself as you sprinted away, frantically searching for any exit. You were convinced it was Harry. Why did it have to be at the same wedding?

Why, God why?

You set the tray down on the nearest table and dashed outside, struggling a bit in your high heels. You were hesitant to look back, but you could feel him coming after you.

“Fuckin' hell,” you muttered under your breath.

You made it outside and rushed toward the stairs, but your foot tripped over the edge, and your right heel came flying off.

Great!

You tried to awkwardly hop down on one foot, but it was a dumb move, and you could hear footsteps closing in as you held onto the marble ledge.

“You must be a real Cinderella.” Harry's voice rang out, causing you to freeze. When you turned to face him, you were taken aback. He was holding your shoe and looked absolutely stunning in that tuxedo. You weren’t certain if you were Cinderella, but you certainly felt as though Prince Charming was right before you. 

As he saw you raise your other foot, he came closer and knelt down in front of you. You looked down as he carefully slipped the shoe back onto your foot, admiring his hair and how handsome he appeared while he softly held your ankle. 

Your heart racing.

He chuckled as he stood up. "The shoe fits perfectly, my princess. But why did you run away? The clock hasn't struck midnight yet," he said with a laugh.

You mumbled while adjusting your foot, “I thought you'd be angry with me.”

“I tried, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.” He continued, “When you mentioned helping Zoe, you didn’t say anything about being a waitress. I thought you didn't like this job."

"I don't, but I had to help her out by covering for her," you replied.

“You’re already worn out during the week,” he said, his tone almost frustrated.

“Where’ve you been? I was looking for you!” John's voice called out, breaking the moment.

You both turned to him, and he fixed his gaze on Harry, looking annoyed. 

Just like the way Harry looked at Alan.

What the fuck was going on between them seriously?

Then he turned to you. “Come on,” he said, walking away.

“Okay, I’m coming,” you nodded, glancing back at Harry. “I need to get back to work.” Harry met your eyes, looking serious. “Look, I know this is all super awkward, but just ignore me, and I’ll do the same. No one has to know we know each other, okay?”

He grabbed your arm as you started up the stairs, you looked at him, surprised.

“Don’t ever say that you’re going to ignore me again,” he said, his voice low and deep. He looked upset, while walked ahead of you up the stairs.

What did that even mean?

Did he hurt?

The rest of the evening turned out to be quite challenging. It was hard to avoid making eye contact with Harry as you served drinks to the guests. And, of course, Alan was among them—just what you needed! Great, now both he and his date were watching you. To make matters worse, Melanie and her mother were there too.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed John's mood had shifted—he was nursing a beer. 

"So, you know Harry Castillo?" he asked, a troubled smile on his face.

"Yes, and I assume you do too?"

“Oh, believe me, I know him.”

You were about to pry into his comment when Alan's date, a woman named Lucy, walked into the kitchen. The two of them exchanged a strange look before she turned her gaze to you. "You again? Who exactly are you?" 

“I beg your pardon?”

"First Harry, then Alan, and now my ex? What’s going on with you?"

"Cut it out," John said, clearly annoyed but trying not to escalate things. “Let’s talk outside,” he suggested, pointing to the back door.

Lucy rolled her eyes but followed him out. "Do you have a cigarette?"

"Doesn't your new rich boyfriend get you any?" 

"Shut up."

You couldn’t quite figure out their history, but you knew Zoe would be upset if you told her about it.

“Damn it!”

When you turned around, you were met with the furious face of the head waiter. The kitchen staff and waiters looked equally concerned. Curious about what had gone wrong, you approached and saw that part of the wedding cake had been ruined; one of the staff had accidentally collided with a waiter, causing whatever was on the tray to topple onto the cake.

That was when chaos erupted.

"The bride and groom's families are going to freak out - they're going to kill us all!

Everyone exchanged worried glances. By then Harry and the other best man had come over to tell the staff it was time for the cake.

Great!

The maitre d' and kitchen staff kept apologizing, glancing at each other in a panic, unsure of what to do. 

“He’s probably going to lose it when he sees this,” Harry muttered while inspecting the mess.

Sure, the edge of the cake was damaged, but it wasn’t beyond repair. The staff, who had dedicated their day to making this event perfect, now looked defeated. Harry, as the best man, shared in their disappointment.

In that moment, inspiration struck, and you made a decision—perhaps one of the boldest choices you’d ever made.

“I’ll take care of it; just give me some time.”

Harry and the others stared at you in surprise. 

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

You looked at him with determination and pulled your hair back into a bun. "Do you have doubts, Mr. Castillo?"

He grinned, "Never. So what do you need? Let me help out." He grabbed an apron.

“No way, your tux will get ruined,” you said, reaching out to stop him.

“We’ll handle it, just tell us what to do,” one of the staff member said.

“All right,” you said, assessing the cake carefully. “If we fill in that section and cover it with the same color sugar paste, we can save its appearance.” 

Harry stood with his arms crossed, watching you with a proud smile on his face. 

“Get me the same color sugar paste right now, or if you don’t have any, grab some white and pink instead. I also need ready-made cake and icing for the filling.” 

“But it’s time to take the cake to the bride and groom for the cutting,” said the other best man.

“You keep them busy; we need a little time,” Harry said.

“How am I supposed to keep them busy?”

“I don’t know, share some of your memories about the bride and groom or something,” Harry suggested.

He shot you a nervous glance. “I hope you can wrap this up quickly because most of my memories are pretty embarrassing.” 

Harry chuckled, “The guests won’t believe their ears.” 

You shot him a look while whipping the cream. "Your friend from way back, I guess?”

“Yeah, my coworker too.”

“Can you hand me that spatula?”

Harry passed it to you from the counter. “We’re lucky to have you around.”

“It’s a bit early to say that, Mr. Castillo.”

“I trust you,” he said with a warm smile.

You smiled back.

You managed to save the cake in about half an hour with the staff's help and Harry's supportive words. You were feeling super tired, but it was worth it.

“Oh no, man, not the birthday story,” Harry muttered, peering through the kitchen door. "Darling, I hate to rush you, but the cake better be done, or the bride's family will kick the best man's ass." 

“It’s done,” you said, wiping the sweat from your brow. 

Everyone stared at you and the cake in amazement, bursting into applause. 

“You’re amazing,” one of the staff members exclaimed. 

“You saved the day,” said another. 

A big smile spread across their faces; they were all genuinely happy. You beamed too, feeling proud of your achievement. 

When you caught Harry’s eye, he was filming the moment with his phone. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” 

“Getting proof.” 

“Proof of what?” 

“Proof that you deserve that certificate.” 

“Thanks.” You looked at him and smiled, grateful. “I hope I get it,” you murmured. 

"You will." He took your hand and kissed the top gently. “Thank you for saving my friend’s wedding day.” 

“Happy to help,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

Then, the waiters took the cake inside, and Harry followed them, while the staff kept praising you. You smiled back at them, feeling proud of yourself.

Luckily, the cake still looked the same, so nobody suspected a thing. After the cake was cut, the bride and groom hit the dance floor for their first dance, and soon everyone paired up to sway to the soft music playing in the background.

While serving drinks inside, you and Harry locked eyes from a distance through the dancing couples. He texted you, and you looked at your phone.

Dance with me?

You looked over at him and shook your head. Just as you set down some empty glasses on the tray, another message came through.

I won't ask twice.

You turned around in a frenzy and noticed him standing. Just as you began to feel a rush of excitement, Melanie and her mother Roxelana approached him. She wore a broad smile as she shook Harry's hand. Looking at them from a distance and seeing the real Melanie and Harry side by side, you felt left out.

You turned away and went back to your work.

Of course.

Who were you kidding?

You never had the right puzzle piece to fit into his world. It was okay if he chose to dance with her; after all, how could he possibly dance with you?

Especially with your waitress clothes on. 

He must be joking or something.

You filled the tray with empty glasses and were just about to pick it up when someone grabbed your arm. You were taken aback to see Harry—wasn’t he just across the hall? When had he come over to you?

He took your hand, pulled you close, and started leading you toward the dance floor. 

“Harry,” you whispered, anxiously glancing around at the curious faces and the gentle hum of conversation. Turning your head, you spotted Melanie and her mom watching intently. “What are you doing? It's not—”

“Shh, just put your hand on my shoulder,” he replied, placing his other hand on your waist and drawing you in a bit too firmly. You looked up at him, wide-eyed, and he flashed you a reassuring smile.

As he began to sway to the beat of the music, you decided to stop resisting. After all, he was gripping your hand tightly, and his hand on your waist felt possessive enough to silence any rebellion. 

And then there was his gaze. 

Shit, it was intense. 

As if he didn't already look incredible in that tuxedo.

“Everyone's watching us,” you whispered, a surge of nervousness coursing through you as you felt the weight of their gaze.

“I don’t care,” he replied, his voice low and deep. He slid both hands around your waist, pulling you closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, creating a bubble of intimacy around the two of you. “I got you a dress, you know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. You didn’t want to dampen the moment with any negative things, especially with the way he held your gaze so intensely. 

“I wanted you to wear it tonight,” he continued.

“Um… sorry. I’m stuck in these clothes. I guess it’s not quite what you had in mind,” you said nervously.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re already beautiful just as you are, no matter what you wear.” He tilted his head, leaning in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to yours.

“Harry,” you whispered, your breath hitching as you turned your head to the side, trying to regain your composure.

But he gently grasped your chin, guiding it back to face him. The rich brown of his eyes was mesmerizing, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

“I love you,” he whispered, his words hanging in the air like the sweetest melody.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing.

What?

Was what you had just heard real?

You remained frozen, blinking in disbelief, completely caught off guard.

He frowned slightly. “This is where you say 'I love you too,'” he grunted.

Suddenly, the music came to a halt, pulling you back into reality. You looked around in surprise, noticing that the dance floor was emptying. Everyone had returned to their tables, and some guests were already beginning to leave. The wedding had come to an end. How long had you been lost in this moment with him?

Time had blurred into an unrecognizable haze. With a whirlwind of emotions, you finally pulled away from him and, without turning back, made your way over to John and the others; they were preparing to leave.

“For a moment, I thought you might never show up,” John said, a hint of reproach in his tone. But as he noticed your expression, his face softened. “Come on, get in,” he added, pointing toward the truck. You nodded and headed to the coat rack to grab your jacket. Just then, the kitchen door swung open, and Harry walked in, catching your arm once more.

He really needed to stop this.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

"I'm driving you home."

“No need, I—” You halted as he shot you a piercing glare.

Why was he looking at you like that?

John stepped closer. “Is there a problem?” He eyed Harry, his expression turning just a bit menacing.

“Mind your own business,” Harry snapped.

“John, I’m fine. You go ahead,” you said.

He looked between you and Harry before giving a reluctant nod. “Okay then,” he replied, turning back toward the truck.

As Harry pulled you outside to his car, Oliver spotted you and approached.

“I'll drive,” Harry declared. He opened the door for you and closed it gently after you got in.

“Is everything all right?” Oliver asked, concern creeping into his voice.

Harry glanced at him, his focus unyielding. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“All right,” Oliver muttered before walking over to Maria, who was also getting into her car. She paused, noticing Oliver's presence.

“Harry ditched me."

“Yeah, I just saw that,” she said, gesturing toward the car. “Get in.”

As Harry awkwardly parked the car near the apartment building once again, you decided to hold your tongue this time. The ride had been silent, and that strange atmosphere hung heavily between you. The tension was palpable, and it was starting to get on your nerves. 

You glanced at him, and he met your gaze, but you quickly looked away, afraid of getting lost in the depths of his eyes again. Suddenly, he opened his door and got out, catching you off guard. 

What was he doing? 

Was he hoping to be a gentleman and open your door for you? 

Or maybe he just wanted to talk outside?

His eyes never left yours as he walked around to your side of the car. But there was something intense in his gaze, almost unsettling. He opened the door, and just as you were about to step out, he leaned in, cupped the back of your neck, and pressed his lips against yours.

Your first instinct was to freeze; you never saw that coming. His kiss was rough, demanding and insistent, even a bit angry, yet it sent shivers down your spine. He held you too tightly, and although it almost hurt, you tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let go. 

You kissed him back but kept your mouth closed, refusing to let his tongue in. But he kept forcing you to open your mouth for him. When a tear rolled down your cheek and touched his, he stopped and pulled away. 

Then, he got down on his knees and reached out his hands to you. You turned slightly in your seat and took his hands. Words were unnecessary; your eyes spoke volumes. 

When he kissed you again, it was gentle this time, passionate, and full of remorse. You reciprocated with the same tenderness, but he could sense your hesitation.

He realized you weren’t ready to fully give yourself to him.

Pulling back, he studied your face, then wrapped his arms around you, kneeling on one knee and drawing you closer. As he gently stroked your hair, his lips brushing against your ear, he whispered, “I love you, baby. When will you be mine? When will you come to me?”

You didn’t say a word, but you held onto him tightly, every part of you yearning to confess that you loved him too.

Yet, this wasn’t the right moment.

Not tonight.

Time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading as you sank deeper into his embrace.

In that instant, one thing became crystal clear: you loved him unconditionally, and the thought of living without him felt unbearable.

Sooner or later, you would carve the right words out of the tumult in your soul to give him the answer he yearned for.

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your comments, likes, and reblogs. I'd love to hear what you think about the chapter!

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[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which uconn is your 2025 national champions

the confetti was still falling when the final buzzer sounded. the crowd’s roar was deafening, a mixture of screams, cheers, and the overwhelming energy of witnessing history. 

the scoreboard’s final numbers gleamed under the arena lights:

uconn 82 - south carolina 59

national champions.

for a split second, paige bueckers stood frozen at center court, her hands gripping her knees, chest heaving as she processed it all. then, the realization hit.

she had done it.

uconn had done it.

she stumbled back a step, her hands dropping to her knees, chest heaving. her jersey clung to her in sweat-soaked glory, her legs trembling from exhaustion. but her face—god, her face was glowing. elation, disbelief, relief, all hitting her at once.

teammates rushed her, but paige barely registered it. her eyes were already scanning the crowd, her heart still pounding—not from the game, not from the noise, but from that aching, burning need to find you.

she found you near the sideline. you weren’t standing with staff or waving your phone around. you were frozen—hands over your mouth, eyes full of tears, staring at her like she had just moved the stars.

from where you stood at the edge of the court, your breath hitched as you saw her searching frantically. and then—like gravity itself pulled her—her eyes locked onto yours.

before you could process it, she was running.

the cameras caught it, the audience saw it, and the entire stadium gasped as paige bueckers sprinted across the court, dodging staff, ignoring reporters, and making a beeline straight for you.

and then she wrapped her arms around you, picking you up, like in those cliché movies.

she spun you in circles, pulling you into her as if you could get any closer. then—before you could even say anything—she kissed you.

not just a quick, celebratory kiss. no.

paige kissed you like she had just won everything.

the stadium erupted. the crowd screamed. the cameras flashed.

you clutched her tightly, one hand wrapped around her back, the other in her hair, as the entire stadium erupted behind you.

the kiss lasted long enough for the crowd to scream, long enough for the espn cameras to catch the perfect angle, long enough for phones all over the country to screen-record it in real time.

and then she broke away, her forehead resting on yours, her lips parted as she caught her breath, eyes shining with exhaustion, exhilaration, and something so much deeper.

"we did it," she breathed.

"you did it," you whispered back, voice thick with emotion.

she grinned. "i couldn't have done it without you."

before you could respond, her teammates swarmed the both of you.

“OH OKAY, THAT’S HOW WE’RE CELEBRATING?!” azzi yelled, cackling as she smacked paige’s back.

“damn, paige! you didn’t even touch the trophy yet!” kk teased.

the cameras were locked onto the moment. reporters were already whispering excitedly into their microphones, and within seconds, twitter, instagram, and tiktok exploded.

espnw: forget the buzzer-beater—paige bueckers just delivered the most iconic sports moment of the year. #uconn #nationalchampions 🏀💍

top comments:

hoopsfan99 THIS IS LITERALLY A MOVIE???

uconngirlpaige I HAVE NEVER SCREAMED THIS LOUD IN MY LIFE

wnba_wannabe this is my roman empire.

lesbihonestxo WHEN WILL IT BE ME?!

thefanaticsports paige said ‘TROPHY? I ONLY WANT MY GIRL.’

womenshoopssource: “paige bueckers and uconn just won it all, but the moment of the night? her sprinting across the court, ignoring the trophy, ignoring the cameras, and kissing her girlfriend in front of the entire world.”

top comments:

bihoops THIS IS LITERALLY A ROM-COM ENDING.

paigelover22 paige bueckers playing for two rings tonight.

hoopdreams101 HER PRIORITIES.

paige was still catching her breath when the espn reporter approached her, grinning ear to ear. The microphone was up before Paige could even protest.

“paige! you just led uconn to a national championship, you put up an mvp performance, and then you immediately ran to the sideline and kissed your girlfriend in front of the world. talk us through that moment.”

paige laughed, still breathless, rubbing the back of her neck. “honestly? i wasn’t thinking about anything else. the second the game ended, i just—i wanted to find her. she’s been with me through every injury, every late-night workout, every moment of doubt. this wasn’t just my win—it was our win. so, yeah, i guess i just… ran.”

the reporter chuckled. “you definitely ran. twitter is already calling this one of the most iconic championship celebrations ever. any message for your fans?”

paige looked directly into the camera, eyes bright with joy.

“yeah. chase your wins, but always celebrate with the people who got you there.” she paused, then smirked. “and sometimes, you just gotta run to what matters most.”

the team popped champagne. the coaches cried. the trophy sat in the center of the locker room, polished and heavy, but paige didn’t stop smiling until she found you again.

you were waiting in the tunnel, her jersey still hanging off your shoulders, hair tousled from her earlier embrace.

she walked toward you slowly this time. no cameras. no chaos. just you and her.

“hey,” she said softly. “still here?”

you laughed. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

paige tucked her medal into her pocket and stepped closer. “it didn’t feel real until i saw you. you were the last thing i saw before tip-off and the first thing i needed after it ended.”

you felt the tears sting again, softer this time.

“you’ve been everything with me. through the injuries, the pressure, the doubters… you believed in me more than i believed in myself. this ring? it’s yours too.”

you shook your head. “no, baby. this ring is yours. and you earned every single second of it.”

paige took your hand, turning it over before sliding her championship ring onto your index finger with a teasing grin. “then wear it for me tonight.”

you looked up at her, heart bursting. “only if i get to wear your jersey too.”

she grinned. “deal.”

photos of the kiss were on the front page of sports illustrated.

#1 trending on tiktok.

paige’s post-game quote—“sometimes you just have to run to what matters most.”—was being printed on t-shirts.

and somewhere, in a quiet hotel room filled with laughter and leftover champagne, paige bueckers woke up with her arm draped across you, her face tucked against your neck, and her championship ring on your hand.

the world could have the headlines.

she already had the one thing that made winning worth it.

you.

[cloudyluun]

Private Show

Summary: Harry surprises you with VIP tickets to Sabrina Carpenter’s concert, making sure you have the time of your life, dancing, singing, and twirling you around like the perfect concert boyfriend. But when a fan starts filming, he blocks you from view, sending the broodiest glare at the camera to protect your moment together.

A/N: So, you know that viral video of Harry mean-mugging the camera at Sabrina Carpenter’s concert? Yeah. My brain immediately went “what if he was just protecting his girl?” And then this happened. Enjoy dancing, twirling, and protective boyfriend Harry in his full glory. 💖

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: 

Mild crowd anxiety (Harry blocks you from attention)

Fans screaming his name

Protective, broody Harry

Harry twirling you like a rom-com protagonist

Sabrina Carpenter slaying as usual

Pure concert fluff with the tiniest bit of angst

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The night starts with screaming.

Not Harry’s, obviously—yours.

Because your boyfriend, the actual love of your life, just casually pulled two VIP passes out of his pocket like it’s no big deal.

“You’re joking.” Your eyes are so wide they might actually fall out of your skull.

Harry just smirks, swinging the lanyards in front of your face. “Do I look like I’m joking, love?”

“HARRY.” You grab his wrist, shaking him violently. “YOU GOT ME SABRINA CARPENTER TICKETS?!”

“Thought I’d surprise you,” he says, looking all smug and pleased with himself.

You launch yourself at him.

“I love you. I love you so much.” You press at least twenty rapid-fire kisses to his face, making him laugh as he tries (and fails) to dodge you.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “You love me enough to forgive the fact that I’ll be working with her soon?”

Your brain short-circuits.

“You’re what?!”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “We’ve got something in the works. Thought I’d get ahead of it and make sure my girl didn’t, y’know, leave me for her when it drops.”

Your scream could shatter glass.

And that’s how you end up in a private VIP booth, tucked away from the main crowd, watching Sabrina Carpenter take the stage with your ridiculously perfect boyfriend beside you.

Harry made sure you had the best view—not too close to the screaming fans who’d recognize him in seconds, but not too far that you couldn’t soak in every second of the performance.

From the very first note, you’re in heaven.

Harry is watching you more than the stage, his lips twitching in amusement as you scream along to every word, jump up and down, and nearly burst into flames from sheer excitement.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself?” he teases, nudging your side.

“Shut up, I’m having a religious experience,” you say, barely able to breathe as you clutch his arm.

And then—because he’s the best boyfriend in existence—Harry joins in.

At first, he’s just swaying to the beat, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on your hip. But then Vicious starts playing, and suddenly, he’s fully dancing with you.

Spinning you around. Dipping you dramatically. Letting you sing the lyrics directly into his face.

At one point, he twirls you and pulls you back against his chest, grinning against your ear. “Knew I made the right choice bringing you here.”

Your heart melts.

For once, no one is bothering him. No one is shoving a phone in his face, no one is screaming his name. It’s just you and him and the music.

Everything is perfect.

Until he notices the camera.

You don’t see it at first—too busy losing your mind over Sabrina hitting a ridiculous note—but you feel when Harry’s body tenses. His arm tightens around your waist, his stance shifts, and suddenly, he’s blocking you from view.

“Harry?” you mumble, looking up at him.

His jaw is tight, his eyes locked onto something in the crowd. You follow his gaze and—there.

A fan, holding their phone way too high, the camera clearly zoomed in on your booth.

And worse?

Other fans have noticed him.

You hear it—the whispers, the murmurs, the first few shouts of his name.

You wilt.

You love Harry. You love being with him. But sometimes, the attention is suffocating.

Harry knows this.

Which is why, instead of acknowledging the cameras, he does something so very Harry.

He glares.

Not just any glare—the glare. The one that shuts down the paparazzi. The one that makes fans go feral on Twitter.

The one that dares someone to keep filming.

His body shifts slightly, fully shielding you from view. His arm locks around you like a protective cage, his eyes locked onto the camera like a silent warning.

You bite your lip. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” he murmurs.

And just like that, the phone lowers.

Harry doesn’t relax until the attention moves on, the crowd shifting back to the stage. Then—only then—does he turn back to you.

“You okay, love?” he murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I just… I hate when they do that. This is supposed to be our moment.”

Harry hums, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Your heart clenches.

And suddenly, nothing else matters.

The music swells, Sabrina launches into Nonsense, and Harry—your ridiculous, perfect, protective boyfriend—grins at you.

Then, without warning, he grabs your hands and starts twirling you again.

“Harry—”

“C’mon, love,” he teases, pulling you flush against him. “We’ve got a show to enjoy.”

And so you do.

Maybe the world will analyze the videos of Harry Styles looking all broody at a Sabrina Carpenter concert. Maybe fans will freak out over his intense glare.

But they won’t know the real reason behind it.

They won’t know he did it for you.

And that’s all that matters.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

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[lomlhwa]

body rhythm (c.sb)

pairing: bff!soobin x bff!reader

preview: embarrassingly, soobin is still a virgin. you're so shocked by this information that you offer to fuck him without thinking.

tags/warnings: fem reader, soobin has a monster cock and no idea how to use it :(, kissing, riding, accidental l-bomb from soobin, he's very cautious, obvious dom/sub dynamics but it's nothing crazy, corruption kink, lots of praise, reassurance, pet names (baby, sweetheart), marking, protection is mentioned but not used (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.7k

song rec for this fic: body rhythm by shinee

a/n: baby soobin :(((

loud knocking at your door signified that your awaited guest had finally arrived. you open your door to find soobin, as smile-y as ever, standing there. you usher him in, closing the door behind him. “i’m assuming you have nothing planned for today?” he says, glancing at you. you nod, smoothing out your shorts. with that, soobin collapses onto your couch.

lounging around with soobin has never been a foreign activity. you’d been close for god knows how long. relaxing in your living room, your legs thrown over his lap, you talk about nothing and everything. the tv plays some awful rom-com in the background, just to fill the air. your eyes dart back and forth between each other and the tv, half-assing keeping up with the plot.

soobin runs his fingers over your bare knees, drawing circles over your skin as he speaks softly to you. your eyes trail back to the tv to find the main couple having an intimate conversation. nothing shocking for you. you watch for a moment, trying to understand the scenario. then, suddenly, their hands are all over each other and they’re losing clothes at the speed of light.

“this is so unrealistic. never strip a girl that fast, it’s such a turn off. right, soobin?” you turn to receive a gesture of agreement and instead find him sporting bright red blush across his face. his hands had long left your legs and his eyes were glued to the floor. a small pout sat cutely on his face as he avoided your gaze.

“soobin?” the way he shifts in his seat has realization washing over you. “are you a-” soobin rushes to cover your mouth with his hand. “don’t say it out loud!” you giggle at how silly he’s being about this. you lick his palm so he takes his hand away, his face contorting in disgust before wiping his hand. “it’s nothing to be ashamed about. lots of people our age are inexperienced.” he shakes his head, fighting a pout. 

you shake your head before looking at him again. “i mean, we could fuck.” your entire body heats up as the words leave your mouth. your eyes widen as they meet soobin’s in a frenzied gaze. “i-i mean, uhm, w-we could uh-” soobin cuts you off by shoving you backwards onto the couch and hovers over you.”do you mean it?” you gulp before nodding hesitantly. “i-i wouldn’t mind being your first time. i think i have adequate experience.” 

soobin crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you with such intensity that you freeze under him. it takes a moment for your body to catch up, you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. you tug him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. your hips gain a mind of their own, grinding your hot core against his growing erection. 

“y/n…” he whispers against your lips. you hum in response, continuing to kiss him without a care in the world. “can we switch? i don’t know what i’m doing and i think it might work better if you’re… on top.” you pull away and nod, pushing on his chest gently. he releases you from the cage he created with his arms and lays back the other way. you climb your way over him, your knees resting on either side of his hips. 

sitting on him like this has you feeling more of his cock. you can tell it’s big, even through his sweats. the wetness between your legs grows, thinking about how it could be possible soobin is a virgin. you trace your fingers over his collarbone and he shivers under you. “you have absolutely zero experience, soobin?” he nods, gulping hard. “a girl’s never even seen your cock?” you press more information out of him, and he nods again.

you roll your hips down on him, his eyes crossing momentarily. a smirk spreads over your face, realizing just how sensitive he is. you continue to roll your hips, leaning down to connect open-mouthed kisses to soobin’s neck and collarbone. you lick and suck on his skin, leaving purple and blue marks in your wake. you drag your fingers under his shirt, dragging it upwards. “sit up.” he sits up carefully and you pull his shirt off him in one swift motion. 

you had seen soobin shirtless on many occasions, but this felt different. being at the beach and seeing him bask in the sunlight was one thing. watching his abs flex as your hips move on their own has you trembling. “you’re so pretty, soobin.” you run your hands over his chest and down to his hips. his hips buck up against yours at the compliment. “do you like being complimented?” soobin runs his tongue over his bottom lip, his breath hitching. “yes. no one really compliments me, so it’s really doing something to me.” he writhes around when you stop moving your hips.

“can you…” soobin trails off, clearly wanting something from you. “what is it, baby?” he runs his hand through his hair nervously. “can you take your shirt off? i feel too exposed like this.” he crosses his arms over his chest to cover himself. you’re quick to shed your pyjama shirt, throwing it into a pile with soobin’s shirt. he quickly draws his hands to your sides, caressing your skin. 

you climb off soobin and slide your shorts down your legs, discarding them. you now stand before him in a baby pink bra and white panties. soobin’s eyes trace your body, taking in your appearance. “do you want me to take everything off?” his eyes widen, blush taking over his face, and even spreading to his ears. a nod escapes him and you smile. “take your sweatpants off, then. and your boxers. we’re in this together. if i’m naked, so are you.” soobin audibly takes a deep breath before moving to strip himself. 

you lose the last layer of your clothes, the pile filling up. “wait! close your eyes!” soobin cries out, and you’re quick to put your hands over your eyes. “why, what’s wrong?” you hear soobin sigh and then some shuffling around. you assume he’s just squirming. “sorry, i got nervous. i’ve never been completely unclothed in front of someone before.” you smile, whether he can see it or not. “sweetheart, we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.” soobin fiddles with his hands on his stomach before gulping down the lump in his throat. 

“it’s okay, you can open your eyes.” slowly, you peel your hands away from your face. your eyes are met with one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever seen. soobin’s face is flushed bright red. his arms rest on each side of his torso, his fingers toying with the fabric of the couch. his chest heaves, his soft abs contracting with each breath. the muscles in his thighs tense as your eyes reach past his hips. his cock stands tall, red and leaking. a whimper leaves his throat as your eyes roam his body. “y/nnn,” he whines. you shake your head, breaking free from your trance.

you return to the couch, climbing over him. you sit yourself on his pelvis, nothing touching yet. “soobin. do you still want this?” despite being completely naked on top of him, you want to make sure. “yes, please.”  you’re surprised by his immediate verbal confirmation, but it also turns you on immensely. “condom?” he shakes his head desperately. with that, you lift your hips to align yourself with his cock. you reach down, gripping the base. “zero prep might make this difficult for me, but don’t worry about it. this isn’t my first rodeo.” 

slowly, you sink all the way down until your ass is flush with his thighs. he shivers under you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “are y-you okay?” he asks, swallowing hard. you nod, fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back into your head. you begin to bounce very steadily, trying to adjust. soobin bites his bottom lip, watching the way his cock disappears into you. 

you set a steady pace, moving up and down to the best of your abilities. your legs grow tired eventually. soobin can tell. your knees give out and you lose momentum. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you down to press your chest to his. he presses the heels of his feet into the couch cushion before speaking;  “i love how soft you’re being with me, but i need you bad.” thrusting his hips up, he pistons his hips into you with such vigor that you can’t help but cry out. “is this okay?” he asks. a little late for that question but you nod nonetheless.

he keeps you pressed against him, stroking your hair and panting into your ear. “fuck soobin, you’re doing so well.” you press kisses to his cheek and jawline. your knees tighten around his hips, digging bone against bone. “are you sure?” he asks, sounding very unsure. you put your hand over his mouth to shut him up. “mmf, just cause you sound like you’re in pain,” he continues. “no, no. i’m so fucking close.” this sends a new fire through soobin, chasing your release. 

your hand falls away from his mouth and he speaks immediately. “please cum for me, baby. please cum around my cock.” soobin’s voice is so whiny and desperate it sends you shooting towards the edge. “yes, yes, fuck yes soobin! right there, god.” his arms tighten around you, his own orgasm racing towards him. “that’s it. that’s my girl.” you clench around him so hard you’re worried you’re cutting off his blood flow. your orgasm crashes over you at the same time soobin’s hits him. his hips slow to a halt, pumping his cum further into you. “i love you.” he whispers before throwing his arm over his eyes.

“huh?” you respond, worried you had misheard him. soobin’s eyes widen and he immediately opens his mouth to apologize. “i love you too. don’t apologize for saying it. i’m just upset you said it before me.” 

soobin chuckles, smiling brightly. “round two?”

© lomlhwa 2025

[ditzydoe444]

big strong jason taking care of a reader who’s burnt out from college :( like she’s so smart and on top of everything that when she gets home she just wants to not think and be coddled and he’ll cuddle her and eat her out so that she can relax.

MDNI 18+

soft jason todd x reader

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ jason todd x reader ಿৎ

──────────•~❉✿❉~•──────────

jason watched as you stumbled back into your shared apartment, you kicking off your shoes hastily as your hand was placed on the wall for balance, which you were clearly struggling with. “hey sweetheart, how was class?” jason smiled softly before hugging you tightly, gently rubbing your back to ease the tension.

“just a little burnt out from the semester,” you mumbled as you snuggled into his chest, seeking warmth from the comfort of his embrace. jason let out a low chuckle, “yeah? well how about we cuddle and watch those cheesy rom com movies you love so much?” his strong arm trying to ease any tension out of your body.

jason knew how you switched your brain off when you were around him, how you were always so smart and academic at college but when you returned back home to him you were a mushy mess who demanded cuddles.

and jason was more than happy to comply, with other offers as well. he carried you to bed, his strong arms lifting you up effortlessly not wanting you to even waste energy on something as simple as walking to your bedroom. gently he placed you down, on your back whilst he separated your legs. “let me help you relax ok?” he whispered softly, gently rubbing circles on your thighs.

“let me eat this pretty cunt out,” jason pleaded as he settled in between your legs, admiring your bare cunt as he removed your panties. “it’ll be relaxing i promise.”

jason was more than determined to give you a release, after all he’s girl came to him all tired after a long day from college, how could he just sit there and do nothing?

“ok jacey, don’t edge me though,” you mumbled as the last thing you wanted was you begging him for a release. jason gave a lazy grin, “promise baby.”

and god did it work.

jason was devouring your cunt, his chin glistening from your arousal, his tongue and fingers working at a fast pace. “you always taste so damn good baby,” he groaned as his hands gripped your thighs tightly.

your mind went all fuzzy and cloudy from the pleasure, your pants filling up the room as a sheen of sweat covered your body. “jacey, fuck” you moaned as you gripped onto his hair, tugging it. “i think ‘m gonna come again,” your chest moving up and down with your pants. jason hummed, content. “come then baby, my smart girl needs to relax,” he murmured as he continued, “making a mess all over the sheets, you must be enjoying yourself hm?”

“doin’ so well, just one more then we can cuddle and i’ll order your favourite take out yeah?”

you didn’t even register what jason said until he gently nudged you, peppering your neck with wet kisses. “come back to me sweetheart, i’m not done yet.”

[psychopomp-namine]

wait. so KH3 riku was holding out his hand to namine because he was acting as a stand in for repliku, because repliku in chain of memories saw namine as "the person he wanted to protect" from the meteor shower in the childhood memory that he got. namine was that precious to repliku.

namine was also the stand in for the person sora wanted to protect from the meteor shower in the childhood memory that he got.

I've always wondered why we still haven't gotten the promised "thank namine" scene because it's been forever and it feels like we should have gotten it already, and yet. we're still here. so I'm wondering, what will take it for sora to remember to thank namine? what is namine's final role? like sure, sora in quadratum probably has way more memory issues than he ever had in chain of memories, which namine could help with. but I feel like restoring sora from "concept/fiction" to "individual person" is gonna be a group effort that isn't (and shouldn't be) solely namine's responsibility to fix.

so what is namine's personal future role that will get us that thank you? it has to still be related to chain of memories somehow, or her personal memory powers over sora. the only thing I can think of now is that she fixes that one childhood memory of sora's and makes him remember who actually promised to protect who during the meteor shower when they were kids. something something the person who promised to protect was also holding a toy sword. something something the keyblade's chosen something something. oh my god. is that it?? really??

I'm not being coherent in this post but my brain is zapping in different directions right now. I'm sure everyone else has thought of this already and I'm just late to the party, but cut me some slack, I literally have not thought about kh that much for the past like 3 or 4 years. I'm getting back into it now for some reason and I am. Remembering things

[dindjarindiaries]

I'll Be Yours If You'll Be Mine

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” / “It’s hot when you talk back.” / “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” (18+)

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You were pacing the floor of your flat, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, when you heard the telltale knock. It was the pattern the two of you had set long ago. Usually, it would make your heart race for a whole different reason. Tonight, however, it was simply anger.

You unlocked the door and let it slide open. Din stood there with his gloved hands set on his hips, his fingers tapping anxiously against his belt. His helmet straightened as his visor gave you a careful once-over.

"Hey." He lowered his hands to his sides and nodded towards the comlink that was still clutched in one of your fists. "Is everything okay?"

You took a step back, wordlessly inviting himself inside. Din hesitated a moment before striding through the doorway. You took a deep breath for composure, but the effort was in vain, and you snapped the same way the door did behind you.

"You're back in town, and I have to find out from a vendor?"

Din huffed, lifting a single hand back to his hip. "Is this the emergency you commed me for?" He used his helmet to gesture to your comlink again.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you crossed your arms. "Were you even going to tell me you were here?"

"So, you're not in danger?"

"Answer the damn question."

Din sighed. His helmet swung to the side, his voice lowering as he responded. "I'm just passing through. I'm not supposed to be back yet."

"But you are." Your jaw flexed. "And I had to find out from a vendor, Din. A stranger."

Din paused, his armored chest rising and falling in a steady breath. He then shook his head and started to walk forward. "I don't have time for this."

Before he could pass you, you set your free hand firmly upon his cuirass, splaying your palm across the silver metal and forcing him to stop. His visor was just inches away from your face, but you were too focused on your own rage to make note of it.

You swallowed hard, and when you finally spoke again, your voice was smaller, exchanging some of your anger for your hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?"

Din exhaled a light breath. After a few heartbeats of silence, he lifted a gloved hand to gently wrap it around your wrist. "I'm not."

Your gaze searched the void of his visor. "It feels like you are."

Din looked down as he lowered your hand from his chest. For a moment, he held your hand between his own, but he released it not long after. "Like I said before, I'm just passing through." His modulated voice was strained. "I'm not even supposed to be here."

You circled your jaw, your stare still focused on his visor. "I understand that." You steadied yourself with a breath and went on. "I just wish you had told me. I would've liked to see you." Your gaze flickered down in a moment of shyness. "If only for a little while."

Din tilted his helmet. "I can't always let you know where I am. It could jeopardize my jobs."

You frowned. "I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I know." Din sighed again and set his hands back on his hips. "But if I comm, then I risk someone hearing, and if I'm always here, they'll know where to find me."

Your brow shot up at his words. These were starting to sound like parting words. "What are you saying, Din?"

Din looked down and shifted his weight between his feet. "I'm just asking you to understand, as a friend—."

His words made your fragile recollection of yourself shatter. You tightened your hand into a fist around your comlink again and pointed the other finger into Din's chest. "But we’re not just friends, and you fucking know it."

Something shifted in the air as the words sat between you. Din's chest had stalled, his visor taking its time with giving you another once-over. You remained where you were, your own chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as you gripped onto whatever self restraint you had left to keep yourself from losing your cool.

It felt like forever until Din spoke again. His voice sounded far away, as if his mind was somewhere beyond this moment and this room. It was a rasp so low and so quiet that you could barely hear it. "It’s hot when you talk back."

You blinked a few times, your traitorous body preparing itself to melt at the words. Your stomach did backflips as you fumbled for something to say. "Are you serious?" You scoffed, flattening your hand against Din's cuirass to push off of it. He stumbled back a few steps, but was never at true risk of losing his balance. "I finally call you out on your shit, and that's all you have to say?"

Din shook his helmet at you before he chuckled. The sound was breathy, somehow managing to both piss you off more and to spread the hot flame that had started to burn deep within you. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Din stepped forward, reclaiming the space you had tried to put between the two of you. He looked down at you, his helmet tilting as he spoke in a voice that was lower than you had ever heard it, practically a whisper that crackled through his modulator.

"You try to fight me every time you want to fuck me."

Your jaw dropped, and your heart went right along with it. Over and over again, you ran his words through your mind, but you couldn't begin to process them. Your body was starting to heat up so much, and so quickly, that you were about to break out into a sweat.

Din kept his voice low as he went on. "The reason why I can't see you when I pass through here is because I won't be able to keep myself away from you." He nodded towards the door that was still at your back. "When you let me inside, all I want to do is take you to your room and keep you there until everyone in this town knows I'm here because they've heard you screaming my name."

Your heart was thudding so hard against your chest that you were convinced Din could both see it and hear it. You were still staring up at him with wide eyes, breathing as if you had just run a race. Never once did you ever think you would hear such words from him, no matter how much you had hoped for it—and even dreamed about it.

Din let out another soft chuckle. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Your gaze gave him a slow once-over, buying you time as you still struggled to speak around the sudden lump in your throat. "Only if you really mean it."

Din wasted no time lifting his hands to the sides of his helmet. When the metal slid away from his face, the first thing you caught sight of was his brown gaze, which was practically black in his evident desire. The heat of the room increased tenfold with his obvious attention set on you. "I can prove it."

It was impossible to keep yourself away from him. You drifted closer out of instinct, your hands rising to the back of his neck as his settled on your waist. "What about your job?" You shook your head. "I don't want you to jeopardize it for me."

Din lifted an eyebrow. "I'd rather jeopardize a job than jeopardize what we have." He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he went on. "Especially now."

You hummed and began to smile at him. "Okay." Your nose brushed against his. "But you're not fucking me as a friend, right?"

Din huffed. "No." He tightened his hold on you, bringing you impossibly closer. "I'm loving you as yours." He nodded. "If you want to be mine."

You grinned, your lips teasing his as you echoed his same words back at him. "I can prove it."

Din returned your smile, and as his hot mouth finally met yours, you knew it would be a promised fulfilled, for both of you.

[jojosbingsu]

When &Team Members Are Your Boyfriend

Admin: Ellie

Genre: Fluff, Wholesome | NO Smut, NSFW. | Minors can interact.

Pairing: gn!reader x Teamies (OT9)

Word Count: 3.04K

Notes: If you would like to request something, please find your way onto the blog to make your request~! Feedback is always welcomed. ^u^

EJ 🍊

He's terrible at flirting because he always gets flustered when you flirt back, but he tries his best. His intentions are always good but he usually flirts through saying something you'd hear in a cliche rom-com film.

He's always a giggly mess whenever you're complimenting him. Teasing him is an incredibly easy thing to do and he will fall into it every single time. He becomes a blushy, giggly mess that tries to hide his bright red face away from you.

He buys you expensive gifts as his way to show love and admiration for you. Jewelry seems to be his favorite gift form and he always circles back around to it whenever he feels like you deserve a nice little treat from him. Whenever you wear a necklace or pair of earrings he's bought for you, he will just grin lovingly and say something like "I knew it would look stunning on you!"

LOOOOOVES kiss attacks. If you don't want your face smooched to the end of time, you've better get to hiding it! Euijoo loves to place pecks all over your cheeks and forehead when you're laying in bed together or whenever you're trying to help him cook something. It's probably his favorite thing to do because he knows you'll rarely complain about it. Bonus: Do it to him and watch him absolutely beam with joy and affection. He is the actual embodiment of the word "happiness."

Probably the most comforting boyfriend someone could ever ask for. He's very communicative about his feelings and always open to hearing your feelings as well. He would do anything within his power to make you feel better when he's done something that upset or hurt you. - If someone else has hurt you, he always knows exactly what to say to make everything feel better. He is the master of solving emotional issues and bringing comfortability into the relationship.

Fuma 🦸‍♂️

Wearing matching Pokémon pajamas is a requirement if you're going to be in a relationship with Fuma. If you expect snuggles before bed, you'd better hope to god that you're wearing whatever ridiculous pajama set or onesie he pulled out of his closet for you.

Cuddling up in bed on the weekends to watch movies is his ideal type of 'date.' He would lay with his arms wrapped loosely around you, a content smile always resting on his face, a light blush probably creeping onto his cheeks if you lay your head on his chest or snuggle your face close to his while enjoying the movie.

Cooking together is an activity he would absolutely NEVER say no to. He thinks it's so much fun to stand in the kitchen and try to match recipes you found on Google or TikTok together. He loves to give you backhugs whenever you're chopping vegetables or standing to wash your hands. One thing you should know though, he likes to get the first taste of everything just so it's perfect before you bite into anything.

He loves to tell you about his dreams as soon as he wakes up in the morning. His sleepy grumbles, mumbles, and chuckles seem to be the best thing to help start your day. He always asks what you dreamed of the night before as well and will somehow try to find a way to make the dream-talk a breakfast date.

Play any kind of Switch game with him and he's absolutely becoming a mushy, soft mess, especially if you need his help learning the controls. His favorite game to play with you would probably be Animal Crossing, as he could shower you with cute gifts he crafted or traded away on his island.

K 👑

This man absolutely adores you. There's nothing more important to Kei than you. He looks at you like you're the one who cast all of the stars into the sky above his head. If God created anyone perfectly by hand, it's you.

He's an attentive listener. He loves to lounge lazily on the couch and listen to you talk about your day. He asks a lot of questions just so the conversation doesn't have to end so soon. He's almost like your personal diary at some point. He's just an easy and comfortable person to talk to.

Protective and slightly possessive boyfriend. He is not controlling by any means but he does get obviously possessive over you if he feels that someone is coming onto you in front of him. He mostly reaches to hold you close or stands in between you and whoever is making him feel antsy in his spot. Protective boyfriend is a given. Yudai, though not a violent guy, would absolutely put a smackdown on someone if he felt it was necessary to keep you safe.

He's almost like your not-house-husband. This man doesn't let you do anything to pick up around your own house. If he's there, you're going to sit down and relax and he will take care of whatever has been bothering you. Laundry pile bugging you? No problem, it's folded while you're watching a movie together and put away before he goes home. Got some dishes needing to be done after eating dinner? Don't even think about it, he's on top of the issue and the dishes are drying before you can even reach for a sponge. Sometimes you have wonder if you accidentally hired a maid instead of getting a boyfriend.

He waits up for you if you've been out. He's a natural-born worrier who will keep a close eye on his phone in case you need to give him a text or call. He's always telling you to text him when you've gotten to your destination(s) safely and he will stay up all night waiting for the text message or waiting to see you. Even if you insist that he gets rest, he will stay up and wait patiently to make sure you don't need him to come get you.

Nicholas 🍓

Annoying in such an endearing way. He teases you nonstop because he loves to hear your gentle giggles and watch as your cheeks heat up a nice red color because of his antics

Romantic as all get out. He looooves to buy you small gifts like flowers or candies and he's all about the lifestyle of taking you shopping as a date. Going shopping with you is one of his favorite ways to spend time with you and he will call it a "date" every time.

Taking photos of you is his number one hobby. On a date? Fifteen photos. Sleeping comfortably in his bed? About sixty photos. -- No matter the occasion, you can be certain his entire camera roll is nothing but photos of you.

He sleeps most comfortably if you guys are cuddled up close to one another. He almost cocoons the two of you in his blankets whenever you stay the night at his place. He likes you hug you tightly and rest with his head lightly pressed against yours. He sometimes plays soft music when he's falling asleep but if he knows it bothers you, he will just mumble soft stories to you (mostly to himself) until he's fallen asleep.

Financially irresponsible but only because he loves to spoil his lover. He will buy you anything you say you want or hint at liking. If you guys are shopping together and see a pair of shoes you barely hint at liking, they're already tucked up under his arm and he's probably grabbing a second pair just in case the first ones get ruined. You like a design on a shirt? It's yours and he's not taking arguments. You often contemplate hiding his wallet from him or wearing a pair of sunglasses whenever you're shopping with him so he stops purchasing everything you look at. Anytime you fuss at him for spending so much money on you, he will get sulky and tell you "but I just like to see you happy, you wouldn't take that away from me, right?" -- And then you're left in a dilemma of either watching the dude drain his bank account or letting him sulk and drag his feet all day because you told him NO for once.

Yuma 🐱

Yuma would be such a cute boyfriend. He would be kind of shy whenever he tries to flirt with you and he always bursts into a fit of soft, nervous giggles whenever you lean in to give him kisses.

He always sends you the cutest selfies whenever you're not together. He loves to send you pouty photos with "it's less fun without you here" attached, or he will send a photo of something cute and silly with "I thought of you" sent right after.

Plushies are how he shows his love for you. Everywhere he goes, he buys you a new stuffed animal to toss onto your bed. It's getting to the point where there's not enough space for you in the bed because the stuffed animals are starting to take over but he cares not one bit. He would buy an entire house just for stuffed animal storage if he had the funds to do so.

Sharing clothes is something Yuma likes to do. If you have a cute shirt he knows will fit him, it's not your shirt anymore. If you want to steal a jacket or pair of jeans of his out of his closet, he'd never complain. He'd tell you that you look better than he does in whatever article of clothing it is.

He loves to share earbuds with you. Listening to music together is something simple that makes him feel more connected to you. He likes when you guys take turns picking the next song in the queue to listen to together. He always makes sure he brings a back up pair of earbuds in case the first pair ever dies in the middle of a small jam session.

Jo 🍚

Holding hands is his favorite form of intimacy. To Jo, there's nothing sweeter and more endearing than offering your hand to him and just allowing him to hold it tightly within his own. His thumb is always caressing the side of your hand lovingly, especially if he's listening to you talk. It's his way of showing he cares and is listening to you.

Secretly a jealous boyfriend. Though he's shy in nature and would never outright tell you he's jealous when you're giving someone else more attention, it's obvious that he feels a little bit left out whenever your attention is on another friend over him. He gets a little bit pouty and always reaches to place gentle touches on your hand or thigh to remind you that he's there and would like attention, too.

Going out to a nice restaurant for dinner is his favorite form of date night. He loves to see you get dressed up really cute just for him! He will probably compliment you four hundred times before you even reach the restaurant and you keep catching him staring so lovingly at you while he's eating.

Jo is always trying to improve his drawing skills so he can gift you his art or impress you with what he produces. You've seen his sketchbook and have found that he's tried to sketch you a few times already but decided to restart because he didn't like how he'd made you look. He would become incredibly shy and embarrassed if he knew you saw those drawings, so you always pretend not to notice when he's admiring your face a bit more closely than usual, especially when the sketchbook is sitting comfortably in his lap.

Sleepy hammock cuddles when it's raining. Every time Jo knows it will rain, he finds his way to the hammock he's gotten set up on the balcony of his apartment to curl up with a nice book. Of course, once it starts to actually rain, Jo finds himself becoming sleepy and clingy! He almost always calls for you to come climb into the hammock with him so you guys can cuddle and listen to the rain together. Bonus points if you bring a blanket you guys can snuggle up under together. Extra bonus points if you tell him fun stories about your childhood or ask about when he was little and would play in the rain.

Harua 🐰

Surprising you with your favorite dessert is Harua's absolute favorite thing to do. Seeing you get excited because he showed up with your favorite ice cream or yogurt is something that brings him incredible joy.

He calls you pet names more often than calling you by your real name. Sometimes you wonder if he knows your name isn't "sunshine" or "sweetie" because he's so allergic to calling your name.

Flirting isn't a thing with Harua. He's completely oblivious whenever you try to flirt with him and his attempts... Are bad. He thinks telling you he likes your shoes is flirting and he gets a little flustered when it doesn't work out so well. He can occasionally flirt to the point of making you blush but this happens rarely. More often than not, you just have to chuckle at him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

He loves to get his nails done with you. Even if all you get is your nails trimmed or a clear overcoat to make your nails shine, Harua loves to drag you out to a salon for special one on one time. Matching nails are his favorite thing, so if you decide to get a nail design, he will find a way to incorporate it on his own nail as well.

He insists on walking you home. It doesn't matter the time of day, where you live, or how far he will have to travel to get himself home, he wants to accompany you back to your home so he knows you got there safely. He always gives a gentle kiss on the nose before you part ways for the night and he stands patiently outside until he watches you get beyond the door. He never lets you walk alone, especially at night or during a storm and you can count on him to linger outside for a few minutes just to make sure you're safe, able to get inside easily, and weren't followed by anyone else.

Taki 🐣

Taki is a clingy boyfriend. He wants your attention almost all the time and feels lonely whenever you're not around. He's not overwhelmingly clingy, but he is the type who wants to touch you almost nonstop (hugging, holding your hand, playing with your hair, etc.) when you're together and he basically begs for your attention.

Karaoke dates almost every Friday night. He loves to hang out with you and eat yummy snacks while singing your favorite songs together. Duets are a favorite of his so you can also have a small dance together.

He is infatuated with you and thinks you're genuinely the coolest human being that's ever walked this planet. Whatever your favorite hobby is, he's in love with it simply because you are. He is forever going on about how cool he thinks you are to his friends and he loves to brag about the things you get up to. If you're an artist, he's showing off all of your art no matter what. If you make cute little bracelets, you better believe he will wear 5 at a time and talk endlessly about how you made them custom just for him. He's your #1 cheerleader always.

He would wear matching outfits with you. He thinks it's cute to wear matching colors or matching styles whenever you go out on a date together. If you're wearing blue, he will too. If you've got pink somewhere on your outfit, he will try to find a way to make something of his pink (or as close to it as possible) so you can have a cute "couple's outfit."

Taki's favorite thing about cuddling with you is the fact that he gets to be the little spoon. He loves to feel small when you guys cuddle up to watch movies or just to talk about your busy day. -- You always find that he puts his head right over your heart so he can listen to your heartbeat while you cuddle. If he's ever feeling particularly stressed out or upset, you know letting him listen to your heartbeat will soothe him and make everything feel better for a little while.

Maki ����

Maki loves to flirt with you. He is a master at flirting and making you blush. He always just grins and winks at you whenever your face is hot and red from his flirting and teasing. Even through text message, he finds a way to flirt and tease you until you're a blushing mess.

He talks about you all the time. Nonstop, he talks about you to his friends and family. He finds a way to bring you up in every conversation, even if it has little relevance to anything that's going on. The conversation could be about what his friends want for dinner and he'll but in with "well you know, y/n likes...." for no reason at all.

He brings you things that remind him of you at random times so you know he's always thinking about you. He mostly shows up with random candles or small throw blankets that had cute designs all over them.

Water gun battles are something that always take place when you're dating Maki. He will randomly pop up from behind the couch and just start shooting water at you before he scurries off to a different room before you can retaliate. Whenever you guys have been moody towards one another, he will offer you a water gun and tell you the first person to tap out has to apologize first. -- Of course, he ends up apologizing first, but the water gun fight is just a way he tries to bring the mood up and make things more lighthearted when you've both been a little grouchy towards one another.

Let's get one thing clear. If there's a bug, he's not getting it out of the house / room / area. He will scream like he's being ripped apart from the inside out and will in fact run to hide behind you if he sees anything resembling a bug or insect. Congratulations, reader, you're the exterminator of the relationship!

[caitified]

offseason

caitlin clark x reader

warnings: none

the offseason wasn’t something caitlin had been particularly looking forward to this year. after all the hard work, she had high hopes for her rookie season in the WNBA. while she was upset about not going further in the playoffs, she was excited to have some much needed down time and more importantly-to spend time with you.

she had kept a brave face in front of the cameras, but you knew how difficult it was for her to be the center of attention. for a while, she’d been distant, trying to shake off the frustration of not being able to take her team further.

but now, a few weeks into the offseason, things were different. you had her all to yourself, and despite everything, caitlin was beginning to embrace the break.

you were curled up on the couch together, the soft glow of a candle flickering on the coffee table. caitlin had her arm wrapped around you, and her long legs were stretched out across the cushions. she lazily scrolled through netflix, trying to pick something to watch. you could feel her body relax against yours, the tension she’d carried for weeks finally melting away.

“this one?” she asked, pausing on some random rom-com. you shook your head, and she grinned. “okay, how about this?”sShe pointed to a cheesy action movie. you rolled your eyes playfully, but caitlin chuckled and pressed play anyway. “you’re stuck with me,” she teased, nudging you gently.

“i’m not complaining,” you said with a smile, resting your head against her shoulder. “this is actually nice.”

she turned to look at you, her expression softening. “yeah… it is.” for a moment, her eyes lingered on yours, and you could see the shift in her. the competitive edge that always surrounded her was replaced by something softer, something more at peace.

“are you okay?” you asked gently, brushing a hand through her hair. “i know you were disappointed about the season ending.”

caitlin sighed, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your arm. “i was. I still am, a little. I hate not being out there.” she paused, biting her lip. “but… i also kind of love this.” she gestured to the two of you. “spending time with you, not worrying about practice or games… it feels good.”

you smiled, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “i love it too. but you’ll be back out there next season, stronger than ever. And for now, you get to just relax.”

caitlin grinned and pulled you closer, resting her chin on your head. “you always know what to say, don’t you?”

as the movie played in the background, neither of you paid much attention. caitlin’s hand slid down to intertwine with yours, and the warmth of her skin made you feel safe. you spent the next few hours in a blissful bubble of nothingness—ordering takeout, laughing at the terrible dialogue in the movie, and just enjoying each other’s company.

at one point, caitlin got up to grab snacks from the kitchen, and when she came back, she had that familiar spark in her eyes. “alright, i’ve been resting long enough,” she said with a mischievous grin. “let’s go shoot around in the driveway.”

you laughed. “cait, it’s dark outside. And aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

“i am! but come on, just a few shots,” she pleaded. “i promise i’ll take it easy.”

you gave in, pulling on your shoes and following her outside. caitlin grabbed a ball, and even in the dim light, you could see her come alive again. she wasn’t the same fierce competitor that you saw on the court during the season—she was playful, teasing you as you tried (and failed) to make a few baskets.

eventually, you both ended up sitting on the cool driveway, caitlin draping an arm around your shoulders. for a moment, everything felt right.

“i guess the offseason’s not so bad,” caitlin said softly, her voice warm with affection. “not when I get to spend it with you.”

you smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. “not bad at all.”

[bookwormjust]

My wings...(established relationship with Azriel, pure angst) Part 1

A short comment from the author. Read this imagine while listening Minefields of Faouzia & John Legend. Indeed, it was with this song that the idea came to me. And that's why it's so dramatic and tragic. My dear readers, Enjoy the part 1 of a series that are comming.

The wind bit at your skin as you soared through the skies above Illyria, the towering peaks of the camp growing closer beneath you. Rhysand had sent you on a mission to gather vital information—information only you could retrieve. As Azriel’s mate, you were well-trained in espionage and trusted by the Inner Circle. But Azriel hadn’t been thrilled about you going alone. You had reassured him it would be fine, that you could handle it.

But now, as you neared the Illyrian camp, a strange sense of unease settled over you. You ignored it at first, telling yourself it was just nerves. After all, you knew the camps weren’t safe for females. Their old traditions and prejudices still ran deep, despite Rhysand’s best efforts to change things. But you were strong—you had Azriel’s training, his confidence in you. You thought you were ready.

As you landed just outside the camp, tucking your wings in tight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. The air was heavy with hostility, and the warriors lingering at the edges of the camp eyed you with disdain. Still, you held your head high, making your way toward the tent where you were supposed to meet the informant.

But then, a hand grabbed your arm. 

You whirled around, heart pounding, and found yourself surrounded by a group of male Illyrians, their sneers making your blood run cold.

“What’s a female like you doing here alone?” one of them asked, his grip tightening painfully on your arm.

“I’m here on official business from the High Lord,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear curling in your stomach.

They laughed, the sound cruel and mocking. “Doesn’t matter. In this camp, females stay where they belong.”

Before you could react, they lunged. You fought back, hard, drawing on everything Azriel had taught you, but there were too many of them. Blows rained down on you, fists and kicks, until you were on the ground, gasping for breath. They dragged you deeper into the camp, past the tents and fires, into the shadows where no one could see.

“Let’s teach this one a lesson,” one of them growled, and then you heard it—the unmistakable sound of a blade being unsheathed.

Panic surged through you as you struggled, desperate to get away, but they held you down. You screamed, calling out for Azriel through the bond, but he was too far away. And then the pain hit.

White-hot, searing pain as the blade sliced through your wings.

Your scream echoed through the camp, but no one came. The pain was blinding, unbearable, as they clipped your wings, hacking away at the very essence of who you were. Blood soaked the ground beneath you, your vision going hazy from the agony.

When they were done, they left you there—broken, wings shredded, unable to move. The cold seeped into your bones, the blood loss making your head swim. You tried to reach out to Azriel again, but the bond felt distant, unreachable through the haze of pain.

Hours passed, or maybe it was days. You couldn’t tell anymore. The world had become a blur of agony and despair. You had been strong once, powerful, but now you were nothing. They had taken everything from you.

And then, you felt it—a surge of rage so fierce it almost knocked the breath out of you. Azriel.

He had found you.

The next moments were a blur. You vaguely heard the distant roar of flames, the crackling of fire spreading through the camp. Screams echoed in the distance, but they weren’t yours this time—they were the screams of the Illyrians who had done this to you.

Azriel tore through the camp like a force of nature, shadows swirling around him, his rage palpable even from where you lay. One by one, he hunted them down, silent and deadly. He didn’t speak, didn’t taunt—he simply killed them. Each slash of his blade was precise, fueled by the cold fury burning in his heart.

When he reached you, his breath caught in his throat. You could barely lift your head, but you saw the way his eyes darkened with horror and grief as he knelt beside you, his wings twitching with the need to protect you, to shield you from the world.

“No…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper as he carefully gathered you into his arms, cradling you as if you might shatter. “Who did this?”

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. You felt broken, shattered in a way that went beyond the physical pain.

Azriel’s hands shook as he brushed your blood-soaked hair away from your face, his shadows wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with anguish. “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there.”

His guilt and fury bled into the bond, the connection between you two pulsing with his overwhelming emotions. He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a moment, you could feel nothing but his raw, desperate need to make this right—to protect you, even though the damage had already been done.

He stood slowly, still holding you tightly, and turned toward the remaining Illyrians who had gathered around. There was no mercy in his gaze, no hesitation as he unleashed the full force of his shadows on them, burning the entire camp to the ground.

The world was spinning around you, but in Azriel’s arms, you finally felt safe again. The pain was still there, sharp and all-consuming, but you could feel his love, his rage, his devotion wrapping around you like a balm, as he vowed silently, over and over again, that no one would ever hurt you like this again.

“I’ll fix this,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion as he carried you away from the burning ruins. “I’ll make them pay for every moment of your pain.”

And you knew, with absolute certainty, that he would.

[wonnieluv]

Enhypen when they see you after you being apart for a long time

bf!Enhypen members x reader. warnings: none! just down bad enha boys missing the crap out of reader

Heeseung

Heeseung would envelope you in the most tightest. Not the kind where you’re gripping each other real tight but the kind of hug where you just feel so secure. Like not even the strongest wind could knock you out of his embrace

He’d kiss your forehead and just hold you for a solid few minutes as you just bathe in each other’s presence mumbling small I missed you’s and I love you’s into your ears as you inhale his scent. It’s such a healing moment and any pain, exhaustion or stress you had weighing on you didn’t seem to matter anymore because all that mattered was that you two were together

Jay

Jay would be counting down the days to being able to see you again. You two probably have one of those countdown’s on your lock screen or something. The moment you open the door for him when he knocks, you nearly tackle him over as he drops everything in his hands to hug you

Once you let go of each other, you walk in your door hand in hand. He sets his stuff down and you both immediately snuggle up on the couch maybe with a cup of wine or some tea. You rest your head on his chest as he tells you all about what him and the members have been up to and some of the exciting things they have coming up. You eventually turn on the TV and pop in some cheesy rom-com that you both love. There hasn’t been a more perfect moment. The two of you cozied up on your couch, he runs his hand through your hair as you listen to his heartbeat. Needless to say your both asleep in each others arms long before the movie ends.

Jake

Jake is all giddy. No one within his close circle doesn’t know you’re coming. He probably sits and tells Layla all about how excited he is to see you and all the things you’ll do when he goes to visit his parents. When you finally do arrive he runs up and bear hugs you with the brightest smile on his face. Like his cheeks are probably aching with how hard he’s smiling. As you walk to the car hand in hand, he drives you back with his hand not leaving yours once on the drive home and he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you into his room and trapping you in a hug on his bed. He’s waited so long to hold you and now that he has the chance, he won’t be able to keep his hands to himself.

He’ll tell you about all the stuff he wants to do with you; the cafes he wants to visit, the late night walks with Layla, the places in Seoul he can’t wait to take you to. He’ll promise to take you to the HYBE building and show you around (maybe they’ll let you watch practice ;)). If you show more excitement to see another artist he may teasingly say that you can’t go anymore and he’ll be pouty and never leave your side if you guys actually go. The time you spend with Jake you’ll probably end up sleeping better than you ever have wrapped up in his arms

Sunghoon

Sunghoon may not immediately show it on his face, but he is so excited to see you. When he finally sees your face and sees you running towards him he’ll break out into the prettiest smile and immediately open his arms for you to run into. He’s probably trying to play it cool but in reality he’s trying not to combust from how happy he is. His giddiness immediately gets exposed the second he brings you around the members. ‘Hoon literally won’t shut up about you’ ‘y/n comes in a week, y/n comes in 4 days, y/n comes tomorrow, I see y/n in a coupon hours’ ‘I saw him kicking his feet and giggling when you guys texted last night’. Like they won’t let this poor man live.

When you guys get to be alone there may not be many words exchanged at first but you guys are just going about your business being more than content to be in each other’s presence. Whether he’s playing games, you’re doing your skincare, on your phones, cuddling in bed. Whatever y’all are doing there’s always a permanent smile on your face. But before you fall asleep you probably tease him a bit about how much the boys said he missed you just to seem him get all flustered.

Sunoo

You and Sunoo would FaceTime almost everyday when you were apart. You would be spilling tea, giving eachother updates on whatever has been going on (because he knows alllll of your friends and all of the gossip in your life), doing skincare together, or just exchanging quick words to each other to help cheer the other up.

When you finally are together again you immediately take over the bathroom for the most extensive home spa routine to ever exist. No one is interrupting and by the time you’re done, you’re going through your camera roll looking at all the goofy pics you took with your matching face masks and pajamas on and giggling to each other picking the perfect one that you can post on your story without showing his face. You guys put on the drama you agreed to watch together and spill any recent drama you’ve had yet to tell each other. Needless to say the entire evening is filled with soft giggles and sweet smiles shared between the two of you from the comfort of each others embrace in Sunoo’s room.

Jungwon

You know Jungwon is busy and he knows that you are as well so when you finally have the time to spend an evening at his place you had your bag packed a week in advance and made sure no one would get in the way. He gave you the code so you came to the dorm a bit early to surprise him when he got out of his schedule for that day. The second he walked through the door to see you in the living room his tense shoulders immediately relaxed and before you could even sit up to greet him he was laying on top of you. I’m not talking but ‘tackled into a hug on the couch’ type of thing, I’m talking the ‘there’s his body laying on top of you like a sack of potatos’ and he is not getting up.

When you finally do get him up you head of his room. After you convince him that you will in fact still be there when he’s done showering, he goes to wash up before catapulting himself into bed to lay on top of you again. You spend the next 30 minutes to an hour with his head on your chest combing your fingers through his hair as you exchange words about all the things you’ve been up to as you both slowly fade into unconsciousness holding each other. The next morning he will not let you go and you may have to get 2 of the members to pry him away from you when you have to go back home but it’s ok because you know that it won’t be long until you’ll be in each others arms again.

Ni-ki

Your texts with Riki mostly consist of daily updates and horrible memes exchanged between the two of you with some play fighting added to the mix. Even when you’re ‘arguing’ with each other he knows how to make you laugh and that does not change when you finally get to see him face to face again. He would probably pretend to not see you if you’re a lot smaller than he but when you start to get annoyed he pulls you into a hug and apologizes through his giggles.

The majority of the time you spend with each other consists of you two giggling over things you find on Twitter, taking silly goofy pictures of each other that you beg him to post on Weverse, him teasing you, you punching him for teasing you, him apologizing while laughing and the cycle repeats. By the time it gets to 1am you have settled in his room and he’s telling you goofy stories of things the members have done recently and you’re telling him about the things you’ve been up to recently with your friends (who he totally 100% remembers the names of) until the conversation fades as your breathing steadies and you both fall asleep with smiles on your faces. The rest of the time you’re staying with him consists of similar routines with maybe a late night run to the convenience store or some video games where Riki promises he’ll play fair but we all know he won’t with the biggest smile on his face.

[maevebabyy]

TRANCE

daniela avanzini x fem reader

summary - daniela thinks you’re staring for the wrong reasons, only to figure out that isn’t the case at all.

a/n - short fic! might post a part 2 to this just cuz of how short it is LOL

wc - 1.8k

the hallways buzzed with the familiar sounds of laughter and chatter, but today felt different. you leaned against your locker listening to your friends, sophia and yoonchae talk about some one-off situation. they were mid conversation, but your attention drifted, scanning the sea of students.

that’s when you spotted daniela, and everything else faded into the background.

today, her natural thick, curly hair cascaded around her shoulders, a riot of wild waves that bounced with each step. man, you were a sucker for curls. it was a thought that flitted through your mind, making your heart race. 

you had always thought she was beautiful, but this? this was something else entirely. her natural hair seemed to reflect a newfound confidence that made her look even more captivating.

what prompted this change? you had seen her straightening her hair for so long, trying to fit into a mold that didn’t seem to capture all of her beauty. but now? now she radiated a kind of raw beauty that left you in awe. you couldn’t help but think that the curls she wore today suited her. really suited her. it put you in a trance, simply put.

“hey, you good?” sophia nudged you playfully, breaking your trance.

you blinked, trying to refocus on the two girls beside you. “yeah, just got distracted for a sec,” you said, glancing again at daniela.

yoonchae smirked, a teasing glint in the young girl’s eyes, not even needing to follow your gaze to know what has you distracted. “staring at daniela again?”

“shut up,” you replied, your cheeks warming. “have you even seen her yet? her hair looks amazing today.”

sophia raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across the older girl’s face. “you’ve been crushing on her since your freshman year. just go talk to her!”

“i can’t just walk up to her,” you said, slightly frustrated. “what would i even say? ‘hey, i’ve been watching you for years, and i think your hair is really pretty today.’”

“well, definitely not that. you sound like a creepy stalker.” yoonchae deadpanned, her lips twitching in a suppressed smile.

“exactly! i don’t want to give her that impression,” you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck. “what if she just thinks i’m weird?”

sophia laughed, shaking her head. “well, you’ll never know if you don’t try. you could just compliment her like a normal person.”

yoonchae giggles softly, “yeah, that’s the problem, y/n’s not normal. watch, she’s gonna start writing her love letters from a ‘secret admirer’”

you rolled your eyes, half laughing, half exasperated. “secret admirer? really? i’m not in a rom-com, yoonie.”

“maybe not, but you’re definitely acting like you’re in one,” sophia teased. “look, just say something simple. it’s really not as big of a deal as you make it seem, y/n.”

sophia’s words struck a chord with you. ’ just say something simple. it’s really not as big of a deal as you make it seem, y/n.’ but how could it not feel like a big deal? this was daniela, the girl who had captured your attention since freshman year, now junior. every glance, every laugh had built up in your mind, creating a tapestry of admiration that felt almost insurmountable.

but truthfully, you were tired of waiting. tired of waiting for the right time to go up and just talk to the said girl who successfully lived in your head rent free. each day felt like another wasted opportunity when you couldn’t gather your courage and talk to daniela after 2, nearly 3 years of pining after the cuban girl. 

you glanced towards daniela, who was leaning against a locker with her group of friends, laughter spilling from their circle like sunlight through clouds. and for a split second, your eyes met.

-

“is she still staring?” daniela asked her friend, lara.

“yeah, she is,” lara replied, glancing over. “what do you think she wants?”

daniela shrugged, twisting a curl between her fingers. “i don’t know. i thought maybe she was judging me or something. i mean, i changed my hair, and now i probably look stupid.”

“stupid? girl, you’ve gotta be joking” manon, another friend, laughed while shaking her head. “you look hot! but if she’s always staring and never says anything, maybe she just doesn’t like you”

that thought pricked at daniela’s heart. you’ve always been there, lurking at the edges of her social circle, watching but never approaching. she had noticed you during classes, catching your gaze from the corner of her eye, but you always looked away as soon as she turned. it felt like you were analyzing her, critiquing every little detail of who she was. 

“that’s even worse,” daniela huffed. “if she’s staring and judging, she’s definitely got something negative to say.”

megan– who had previously been quiet during the conversation, leaned in, her voice low. “or she’s just intrigued. but honestly, if she keeps staring and runs away every time you catch her gaze, that’s just rude.”

“right? like, if you’re gonna look, at least have the guts to talk,” daniela said, frustration creeping into her tone. “i don’t need some girl sizing me up from across the hall like i’m some kind of science project.”

“seriously,” lara chimed in, rolling her eyes. “It’s like she’s got some weird obsession or something.”

“obsessed? she doesn’t even talk to me!” daniela shot back, crossing her arms. “it’s just… annoying. if she thinks i look dumb with these curls, she could at least say it to my face.”

megan shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “maybe she’s just shy. you know how people can be when they first see us.”

“shy?’ daniela scoffed, her irritation flaring. “she’s been staring at me since freshman year! if she’s so shy, why not just avoid looking at me?”

manon grinned softly, trying to temper her friend’s anger. “what if she’s too intimidated by you? you sorta do have this whole vibe going on. you’re like, unapproachable pretty dani.”

“unapproachable pretty?” daniela echoed, raising an eyebrow. “i’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, manon.”

“hey, it’s not a bad thing!” manon insisted, waving her hands. “you’ve got this confidence, and maybe she’s just not sure how to approach someone like you.”

“confidence, huh?” daniela said, her tone skeptical. “because i feel anything but that right now.”

“look,” lara interjected, leaning in with a smirk. “why don’t you just go over there and ask her? clear the air y’know? It’s better than standing here stressing about it.”

“are you kidding?” daniela rolled her eyes. “what if she really does think i look stupid? i don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me.”

“or,” megan offered, “what if she has a friend crush? maybe she’s been too scared to say anything or approach you since you’re always with us.”

daniela considered this, biting her lip. “so what? i walk over and say, ‘hey, i noticed you’ve been staring at me for three years– what’s up with that?’ sounds real great.”

“why not?” lara grinned. “besides you’ve got nothing to lose. if she really is judging you, you can tell her she’s the one who looks ridiculous for not saying anything to your face.”

“right, because that’s how you make friends,” daniela scoffed, her irritation bubbling. “you know what? maybe i will front her.”

-

the next day, daniela stood in front of her mirror, running a flat iron through her hair. she usually wore it straight anyway, but after yesterday’s encounter, she didn’t wanna attract people’s stares again. although the curls felt freeing, so… her, she decided to revert back to the familiar sleekness.

as she walked into school, she felt the usual stares, but not as intense as yesterday when she wore her curls. of course, she felt your gaze on her too. it was a familiar scene, you leaning against your locker –which just so happened to be across from hers– surrounded by your friends. 

taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself for what she hoped would be a simple conversation. as she approached, she caught your eye. you looked surprised, almost startled, as you straightened up.

“hey,” she spoke, “do you have a minute to talk?”

“uh, yeah! sure, totally!” you replied, your weird enthusiasm almost stumbling over itself. yeah? sure? totally? good going, you sounded like a total idiot in front of daniela, who looked at you curiously.

you glanced towards sophia and yoonchae, who looked at you teasingly. “uhm, let’s go over there,” you suggested, motioning toward a quiet corner of the hallway, your gestures a bit awkward.

once you reached a more secluded spot, an awkward silence stretched between you. without hesitation, daniela jumped straight to the topic, “why do you keep staring?”

you blinked, surprise flashing across your face. not expecting the cuban girl to be so blunt. “uh, what? i don’t stare.” you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, instantly regretting your defensive tone. 

“really?” daniela deadpans, crossing her arms, “don’t think i haven’t noticed your glances for the past three years.”

“okay, maybe i noticed you,” you admitted, feeling the embarrassment deepen. “but it’s not like that, i mean, it’s just–”

“just what?” the cuban girl deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “especially yesterday, you were staring so hard. you know, if you’ve got a problem with me, say it to me directly.”

a problem? did daniela think you were judging her? 

you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. “no, i uhm, i don’t have a problem with you, i’m sorry if i made you feel that way.” you waved your hands around, unable to make direct eye contact with the girl in front of you. 

“you changed your hair! it looked amazing. i just— i thought it was cool.” you winced at how lame you sounded, “i mean, i thought you looked really confident with the curls.”

daniela softened her expression now, amused. “really?”

“yeah, really,” you replied, surprising yourself with your boldness. “y-you should wear your curls more often. i mean– i thought it was a huge upgrade from the usual.”

“upgrade, huh?” she said, tilting her head; a suppressed smile on her face. she had you figured out now. “that’s an interesting way to put it.”

“yeah, like, you seemed more… you?” you fumbled, hoping your words made sense. “y-yeah, like, you always look amazing, but yesterday felt like a more real you.”

yeah, daniela definitely had you figured out now. she grinned, her dimples now showing. this girl’s sorta cute, she thought. “okay then. just… don’t keep staring at me, talk to me,” she said, half-teasing and half serious. “or i might think you’re a total weirdo.”

you chuckled nervously, “...okay?” 

“by the way, i never caught your name.”

“huh?” you mentally facepalmed at your immediate response, “sorry, it’s uh, y/n.”

daniela smiled again, “well… i’ll see you around then, y/n.”

just like that, the cuban girl turned on her heel, leaving you behind freaking out internally in that secluded corner. 

maybe she’d start wearing her curls more often.

a/n - i'm gonan off myself why has it been midterm szn everyday for the PAST WEEK anyway here r rhe 2 songs that i’ve had on repeat