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certaimromance · 9 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 A Picture of a Cat.

Spencer Reid x Forensic!reader

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Summary: After months of emailing back and forth, you finally meet the person you've been chatting with every day. Then you realize that Spencer is not just a girl's name.

Words: 2,7k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. with spencer of the early seasons very much in love in mind. the reader has a cat and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and maybe lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This is pretty chaotic and not particularly serious😭 It might be best not to try to make sense of it. They're just two idiots in love, really.

To say that Spencer was dying of nervousness was not enough to describe his true feelings.

From the moment he woke up this morning without any mail from you in his inbox, he began to feel that his day was going wrong and that it was becoming an endless nightmare. He had lost count of all the times he had checked his mail at work, hoping to see even a one-line message from you to calm his anxiety.

As someone who had received your good morning every day without fail for the last four months that you had been talking to each other daily, he was completely taken aback and couldn't quite put his finger on why. Perhaps he had said something to offend you, or maybe you were just not feeling the spark anymore. But astonishingly, none of your numerous emails that he had taken the time to reread on the jet indicated any cause for concern.

Everything had been so positive with you recently, and he was grateful to have someone to talk to, even if it was through a computer, every time he finished a challenging case and his mind just wanted to focus on something else. He found great comfort in reading about your day and your thoughts every morning, as if it were his newspaper. Even the pictures you always sent him of your cat sleeping in cute poses, eating, or doing anything else made him smile and gave him the idea of adopting a pet, even when he had never thought about the possibility of it before. You always helped him realize some desires he hadn't previously considered.

But suddenly he didn't have any of it. Nothing at all.

Reid's gaze fell once upon the computer on his desk, and his face was illuminated by its light as he reopened his email page for what might have been the thousandth time that day. His fingers tapped over and over on his knee in an attempt to calm his nerves as the page loaded at a slow pace. He took the opportunity to look at the time on the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. It was ten o'clock at night, and yet, once again, there was no trace of you among his messages.

His heart stopped for a second when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had to close the page he had opened on his computer at full speed before he could even realize who it was.

“Hey, take it easy, kid.” Derek said gently, removing his hand from his shoulder and stepping back a step. His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he was intrigued. “What were you watching?” He asked, with a playful smile.

“N-nothing.” Spencer's voice trembled beyond his control, and he quickly rose from his chair, trying to shield the computer with his body.

You had been his best-kept secret for quite some time, and he was content with that. He enjoyed the idea of maintaining a certain level of privacy in that aspect of his life, as something just between you two. It was more special and romantic that way.

“Nothing? Is that what they call those things now?” Derek inquired, his tone teasing but not unkind. The boy blushed a little, unsure why. “I must admit I'm surprised.”

Reid had to think for a few seconds to figure out what his colleague was talking about, but even before he could understand, Morgan had started speaking again.

“Anyway, turn that off.” He said, pointing to the computer and settling his bag over his shoulder, ready to go. “Someone's waiting for you in the boardroom.”

Almost automatically, Spencer frowned and watched him, waiting for him to provide more information or at least laugh if he was making a joke. However, that didn't occur. Derek didn't laugh at him or anything of that nature.

“Go, Reid. It might be best not to keep the girl waiting.” He gave his friend a gentle pat on the shoulder and a reassuring smile before heading off on the way to the elevator.

A girl? Waiting for him? How?

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts, attempting to grasp the meaning behind Derek's words and the circumstances surrounding the supposed visitor. With a measured pace, he stepped away from his desk and proceeded down the hallway, heading for the boardroom with a contemplative demeanor.

As he opened the door and cautiously stepped inside, he was met with the most glorious sight of his life, the one he had waited so long for, the one that now quickened his pulse and seemed to bring him back to life after feeling dead all day.

You.

Standing at the table, looking intently at the various maps and data scattered around the round table in the center of the room. So deep in thought that you were not even aware of his presence. As pretty as in the pictures of you that he had seen.

He couldn't help but let out a little "oh my" at the sight of you. His heart was pounding so hard he thought he could hear it from across the room, or maybe his ears were just ringing from the blood rushing to his head. Reid stood still, looking at you, amazed. He could see how the light touched your hair and how you bit your lip as you concentrated on organizing the papers and a folder in your hand. It was real. It had to be real.

“Hi.” His voice suddenly startled you, making you realize that you were no longer alone and that the door was now open.

You look up from the documents you are examining and see him by chance. It takes you a moment to realize that he works there, and only by the FBI badge in his pants pocket.

“Hi.” You responded after giving him a very obvious visual scan.

Your voice.

It was the first time he'd heard you speak, and it was just as he'd imagined it would be.

“I’m-” You extended your hand in a cordial manner to introduce yourself, but he interrupted.

“I know who you are.” He spoke quickly, smiling at you. “I...I...you are...” Reid cursed himself for stuttering the sentence as his tongue suddenly felt too heavy in his mouth.

“Okay…I'm waiting for someone.” You said it politely, but your tone showed your anxiety.

Oh, you didn't know it was him.

Spencer let out a laugh to relieve the growing tension, but it came out sounding like a cough. He wanted to hit himself. Why was he acting like a child? He was an agent, for God's sake. His job was to talk to complete strangers every day and do entire profiles without getting nervous. He found it hard to understand how that was changing so much now. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak more clearly.

“Yes, I know.” He replied, sounding a bit nervous. His voice was a little shaky, as if he was straining to get the words out.

“Do you know if this person is coming?” You were standing there with your arms crossed, trying to see if anyone else was coming after him.

At that moment, a look of confusion came over his face. It had not even crossed your mind that it might be him. And although it was to be expected and totally understandable since you had never seen a picture of him, Spencer still felt a twinge of pain and insecurity inside. Perhaps you expected him to look different, or at least not look like a kid playing federal agent.

Maybe it would have been helpful if he had sent you a picture of himself when you sent yours. That way, you might have had a better idea of what to expect. But you were very understanding of his insecurities and lack of comfort with the photos at the time. So he thought everything would be fine anyway…he was so wrong.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before speaking up. “Actually, it's me.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to hide how nervous he was, with little success.

As soon as he said it, you looked surprised, your mouth slightly open, and then you laughed.

“That's pretty funny.” You said it with a slightly uncomfortable smile. When you realized he wasn't laughing, you added, “Good joke.”

Seeing your reaction, Spencer felt the urge to shrink back and disappear, as if that action could erase the last few seconds of your memory and also erase the feeling he suddenly had of having screwed up in an unfamiliar way. He felt his chest tighten as you asked him again if the person you were waiting for was coming. Was it so hard to believe that he was the person you were talking to? The one who earned your trust and affection?

“I spent several hours on a plane, so please let me know if your colleague is coming.” You spoke again, your tone conveying a hint of disappointment and fatigue. “If I'm a nuisance and Spencer doesn't want to see me, I'd appreciate knowing that.”

Hearing you say his first name gave him an unexpected shiver. It sounded so pleasant and intimate. He took another deep breath and forced herself to speak clearly.

“Wait, he does want to see you.” He paused for a moment, realizing he sounded a bit ridiculous. “I mean, I do. I'm Spencer.”

You're momentarily taken aback, unsure if the guy in front of you is joking. His nervous expression suggests otherwise, and you even entertain the possibility that he might be crazy.

Oh my goodness, you were all alone on a practically empty floor of the FBI offices with an insane agent.

“Just let me know if she's coming or not, please.” You said, taking a few steps back to be at a safe distance from him.

His mouth was so dry he could only manage a soft, hoarse whisper. “She? Did you think I was a girl?”

“You?” You furrowed your brow, feeling more confused and uneasy.

At last, he had a suggestion and reached into his pocket to retrieve his badge, holding it out to you in a gesture that seemed to convey innocence.

“I’m Spencer Reid.” He said, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he was caught off guard by the peculiar turn of events.

You looked at the badge, confused, and slowly looked up, looking into his eyes closely for the first time. You studied his face intently, not really believing it.

“Are you Spencer? My Spencer?” You asked.

When you said “my,” he felt a flutter in his chest. His brain was trying to tell him not to get too invested in the moment, but the vulnerable part of him was moved by the way you said it, like he was all yours. There was a special air of affection there that he liked.

“Yes.” He replied, almost in a whisper. “I am.”

You had to take a moment to process the information, eyes glued to his as you tried to make sense of it. Little by little, you come to understand. This was the person you had been talking to every day for months—the person with whom you had shared your fears, stories, and dreams. Yet you hadn't even asked him for a picture or a call—anything that would have made you realize that he wasn't a woman. It seems almost unreal to you to have fallen into such a confusion.

“I sent pictures of my cat to a man?!” Was the first thing you thought, and it managed to come out of your mouth clearly, in an indignant tone. “I said you were my soulmate!”

Now you were the one who sounded insane.

He stood there for a few moments, looking at you and seeing the different emotions on your face. When he finally spoke, his voice had a hint of insecurity in it.

“Yes…but your cat is cute, and you take good pictures.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit nervous. “Did you know that the evocative power of images is widely studied? They can help us verbalize and even rescue forgotten memories and stories from our collective memory and-” He silences himself. “Sorry.”

When he fell silent, your brain couldn't do the same, and thousands of hard-to-filter words began to appear. You had a strange feeling in your chest, a mixture of familiarity with the way his ramblings sounded to you, just like the emails you loved so much, and confusion about the whole situation.

“This is so strange.” You said to yourself, pacing around the room a couple of times. “I was so stupid-”

He observed you with great interest, trying to discern the thoughts and feelings that were likely swirling in your mind. He could empathize with your confusion, as he was also uncertain about the circumstances. He couldn't blame you for feeling bewildered. You had embarked on your journey with the expectation of meeting a girl named Spencer, but instead, you encountered him. You had envisioned a lovely girl, and you found him—a simple individual, a nerd who had been told on numerous occasions that nerds lacked charm.

“No. You're not.” He said, attempting to manage his desire to bridge the gap and offer solace. “It was a misunderstanding. I should have provided you with more information.”

“How would you even start a conversation by saying you were a man?” You let out a laugh to yourself. “I would have stopped talking to you instantly.”

The sentence hit him right in the heart.

The two of you had the opportunity to communicate by mail when your boss asked you to send reports on several of the autopsies with similarities you had done to the BAU. It was then that a picture of your cat was sent in the middle of the files. Spencer was the one who received it and made an attempt at a joke after your long apology. And then another, and another, until you ended up talking for four months until now.

But if you had known from the beginning that he wasn't a woman, you wouldn't have bothered to get to know him at all.

“I...I don't know what to tell you..” He admitted, sounding a little more vulnerable. “But why did you think I was a woman?”

After a moment's thought, you said. “Your name made me think of a girl I knew in college. And you...you were so nice and sweet in your emails that I found it hard to believe that a man could be like that through a screen.”

When you shared how you perceived him through his emails, it seemed that a certain vulnerability came to light. The situation had turned the tables, and now he was the one standing there trying to process the information.

“I thought I finally had a friend. You know what my job is like...and yours is just as all-consuming.” You spoke again, having to sit for a moment in one of the chairs in the place, trying to calm down. “It would've been great to have someone who understood me as a friend.”

He felt a pang in his heart at your words and was instantly reminded of the times you'd confided in him about how isolated you felt in your lab, surrounded by dead people and computers.

“You can still do that.” He replied without thinking. “I’m still the same person as before, just different packaging.”

For you, it was much more than that. First of all, you trusted him in the beginning because you thought he was a girl; that's why he understood you so much and you had that special connection.

Hell, you'd even told him how bad your period was, and he'd understood so well. He'd given you tips and facts that you didn't know that were beyond your expectations of what the average man knew.

“I mean, I'm still someone you can talk to.” He continued, his hands moving nervously in his pockets. “Unless you...unless you don't feel that way anymore.”

When you finally spoke, your voice sounded almost whispery and gentle. He couldn’t help but lift his gaze from the floor to you, feeling how his body relaxed just a bit with the soft sound of your voice.

“No, no. I still want to talk to you…if you’re my Spencer.”

“I am, all yours.” He replied with a smile.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #moontober <3 #spencer reid x you #matthew gray gubler #mon’s fics ♡#my own rom coms ! ᰔ

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ruhua-langblr · 8 months ago

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Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

#langblr #mandarinblr #language learning #resource #dare i put this in the duolingo tag lmao

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cinnaleaf · 7 months ago

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「 Holidate | A Very Merry Footballer Ficmas 」

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

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

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

From: Tyler Alexander-Arnold

Subject: Collaboration Proposal

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

But curiosity got the best of you:

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

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

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

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

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

mintleaf: WHERE the FUCK is TYLER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trent smirked. “Hot girl summer??”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! What’s your favorite food?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” he asked with a faint smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“August?”

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

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

“It’s really not.”

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

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

You glared at him. “Jinx it?”

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

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

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

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

“Paris.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Took you long enough to answer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fantastic” you added, side eyeing Trent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baby?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just what?”

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

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

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

“Oh my god! Trent!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ynstan99: WAIT. WHO IS THAT IN THE BACKGROUND?

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re posting something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Walking” he said without looking up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Happy now?”

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

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

“Eh. Too shiny.” he glanced at it for all of two seconds.

You side eyed him. “Too shiny?? It’s a necklace.”

“Yeah. It looks tacky as fuck” he smirked.

“You think that’s tacky?” you cracked back. “You don’t even know how to dress. You have multiple pairs of the same trainers and tracksuits. That’s tacky.”

“Nah. They’re not all the same. Some of them are for athletic wear and the others are for leisure. There’s a difference.”

You almost laughed but quickly covered it with a cough instead. This man was ridiculous in his own way, and it was kind of endearing. When you turned the corner to a quieter street, the paps pretended to be hidden behind strategically placed stalls, waiting for the perfect shot. “Okay..” you muttered, leaning into Trent just enough to be believable. “Let’s just make this quick. Look at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Not too hard to do. You’re easy on the eyes.”

You lost your steps for a little and muttered, “Don’t overdo it,” brushing a nonexistent strand of hair from your face to behind your ear. “Just be calm.”

“I’m calm” he countered, lightly grazing his thumb over your knuckles. “You’re really committed to this shit, huh?”

“Well..your management team is paying me for this so yeah..I am” you tightly smiled. The cameras kept taking photos but you didn’t look toward them this time so that they could get exactly what was needed. The pictures hit the interwebs almost instantly and they were good. There was a candid of you mid laugh as Trent looked at you with a soft expression and melting grin. The second one was a close up of your hands intertwined while you leaned into him. The angle it was taken in made it look like you were sharing a private moment in the middle of a crowded street. The final picture was of Trent breaking off a piece of chocolate and feeding it to you while smiling in a cozy corner of a small shop. That wasn’t planned though, the joy from that was the real deal.

Before you made it back to the car, Tyler was already in the group chat, hyping both of you up. The pictures were reposted by SpillTheBeans too:

SpillTheBeansUK: Trent Alexander-Arnold spotted out with influencer Y/N L/N looking very cozy in Manchester on Boxing Day. Rumour has it, this love story started a few months ago...Any thoughts, Beans? 👀

ynstan99: sobbing, crying, throwing up. LOOK AT THEM

whatRUonabt: PR but i can’t even hate she’s gorg and they look good

reds4vr_: not convinced after that stunt he pulled last week during match. this is obviously fake news to get us off his back

chirpchirp: she’s just like me fr but i can hold his hand better footiebro: she’s leng but i hope bro isn’t serious he’s got too many distractions

giseleeee_: i give it 3 months before they announce a break up this is fake as fuck

plsbereal: imagine him holding her camera silently while she films vlogs and ootd’s i’m screaming ��

YNsquad: i can’t wait until she posts her next chaotic story and he’s in the background. confirm it queen!!

You scrolled through all the chaotic comments, shaking your head as Trent leaned in to peek at your screen. “What are they saying?” he asked, more invested than he wanted to let on.

“My fans think you’re obsessed with me” you held back your grin while showing him the comments.

“Nah. Other way around I think” he smirked, cocking his brow.

“Whatever” you rolled your eyes, still scrolling through your phone as the car pulled away.

By the time midweek rolled around, you were wondering why you agreed to any of this. Sitting in the box at Anfield felt like you were walking into enemy territory. This was...cute, but not really your vibe. The launch strategy was working so Tyler insisted you show up to keep up this festive fairytale. The box was filled with WAGS and family members dressed up. You weren’t entirely out of place, your fit was eating theirs up rightfully so, but you still felt like a fish out of water every time someone looked at you for too long. You tried to make the most out of it and half an hour into the match, you posted a curated story of a video on the field, zoomed in just enough to show everyone on the field in clear view with the caption: not usually my vibe but i’ll allow it ⚽

The second slide was a chaotic close up of your freshly done nails in an almond shape holding a drink. The third was a shaky clip of the crowd cheering just as Trent assisted with a goal. It didn’t take long for you know who to start some mess.

SpillTheBeansUK: Y/N posts from the box after her Boxing Day photoshoot with TAA! Official or not? Let the investigations begin 🕵️‍♀️

loverpoolluvr: she’s just posting random stories. y’all are reading too much into it

overlibramen: how are you lot defending this? man has a new personality every week. let’s bffr

ynbabesfc: nails immaculate and she’s living rent free in your head and trent’s. COPE

sleuthysleuth: the timeline makes sense i’ve got the receipts and it tracks

trentsgfwannabe: i bet she doesn’t even like football and he deserves someone who can actually appreciate the sport

By the time you and Trent made it back to the house that night, you were drained to hell. The day was filled with forced smiles, cameras, and a lot of online chaos that you tried not to look at but ended up scrolling through anyway.

“You okay?” Trent asked in a softer voice than you expected for someone who supposedly didn’t care.

“I’m fine..” you mumbled while grabbing an oversized hoodie you borrowed from him earlier in the week and some pajama shorts. “I just feel like I’m so out of my element right now.”

Trent had already claimed his spot on the bed and was scrolling through his phone with one hand and eating crisps out of the other. “You’re not that bad at it” he replied, looking up at you as you climbed on your side of the bed.

“Wow thanks” you responded dryly and grabbed one of the snacks he was holding out for you. You were both on your phones, scrolling through various apps while crisp bags crinkled noisily through the silence.

“…Do you ever get nervous or scared?” you asked to break through the silence.

“Nervous or scared about what?” He set his phone down, looking at you with a confused look.

“Of losing yourself with all the fame. It’s like.. I’ve built this whole brand online on my own and I have an audience that trusts me a lot because my whole thing is based on being real with them. But this is....not real. And it feels wrong.” You gestured at him and then you. “I’m scared it’s going to ruin things for me.”

Trent nodded at you and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I get it. Everything I do on or off the pitch always feels like it’s for someone else. I don’t always know what I want. And I change my mind a lot.”

You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by what you assumed was honesty. “Really?”

“Yeah..” he leaned back against the headboard. “Feels like I’m a product and not a person sometimes. Sometimes I rebel every once in a while but I guess I took it too far this time.”

For the first time, you saw him as Trent and not some footballer with a PR disaster on his hands. “Well...at least we have this to bond over. Being fake together.”

He laughed then grinned at you with a wide smile. “Yeah...something like that.”

“It’s kind of weird though. Because for something so fake...it’s starting to feel like it’s...not. Since we’re together all the time and whatnot.”

Trent cocked a brow at your last statement. You opened your mouth to backtrack and say something snarky or petty, but your phone rang against the bedside table. The screen lit up with a facetime call and your stomach dropped when you saw the name.

Romeo Cruz.

Romeo was a rising singer in LA that had all the charm, charisma, and a voice that made every girl want to melt. He slid into your DMs months ago, and while it wasn’t anything super serious, there was definitely flirting going on, and it was FUN. You glanced at Trent who was also looking at your screen.

“Who’s that?”

You reached for your phone with hesitation. “Uhh..just someone I know. No biggie.”

Trent leaned back on the headboard with a clenched jaw. “Yeah? Someone important enough to facetime you at nearly midnight?”

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, answering the call anyway. “Romeo! Hey.” On the screen, Romeo appeared with tousled curly hair, a signature smile with dimples, a sharp jawline, and beautifully glowing, sun kissed skin. “Hey beautiful” he dripped in his velvety, deep and smooth voice. “Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry” your tone was a bit light, a little flirty, but you were nervous because Trent was right there, burning his eyes into the side of your face. “Life has been....busy. A little chaotic but you know me, I love that.”

Romeo noticed the tension inflicted in your voice and cocked his head back from the screen a bit in concern. “You good? Where are you? LA or London?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because Trent reached over and took the phone from your hands like it was his own phone. “She’s busy right now.” He answered for you in a flat tone, holding up the phone so Romeo could see him and his annoying smirk.

“Uh.. and who are you?”

“Her boyfriend,” Trent replied smoothly. “Thanks for the check in mate but she’s good. We’re in the middle of something.” He paused for the drama of it all and then looked at you.

Romeo had a look of disbelief and irritation showing on his face. “Well tell her to call when she’s–”

Trent didn’t let him finish and took the opportunity to cup your chin with one hand, pulling you into a kiss. For something that was fake it felt way too convincing. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his lips met yours. He didn’t pull away immediately, but when he did you were dazed and out of breath. Too stunned to speak. Romeo saw it all and Trent’s face lit up with the cockiest grin ever.

“Yeah I doubt that mate. She’ll be too tired.” He hit the button to end the call.

“What the fuck was that?” you stared at him, your mouth agape in shock.

“What?”

“What????” you repeated, the volume in your voice increasing. “You just kissed me and basically told him I’m taken..like I’m your actual girlfriend! What the fuck??”

Trent popped a crisp into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously and meeting your death glare with a calm look, then he shrugged. “Just following the script, remember?”

By New Years Eve, your public side of the bargain was winding down, but Trent was still annoying you more than ever, even after the kiss. The sound of him chewing in your ear was still echoing days later as you stood in front of the mirror of the hotel, adjusting your ponytail again. Your hair was slicked back with the ends flipped up in soft curls that bounced whenever you moved. You had two loose strands in the front. Your followers knew those strands as your ‘slut strands’ – a term you coined because whenever you had those two strands framing your face, things always ended up a little wild. Between the alcohol flowing at the NYE party, the DJ, and Trent by your side, you knew something was bound to happen. You were always a Chatty Cathy on the juice, and the strands were an unofficial warning label that signified you were about to be everyone’s best friend, or a major problem. You adjusted your dress and gave yourself a final look in the mirror. You were trying to give unbothered girlie with a hint of ruining someone’s life one drink at a time. You grinned at yourself, knowing you looked like you were that girl™.

Just as you were about to spritz your perfume, Tyler texted the group chat:

Start heading to the club. The event is popping off atm. Pap friendly corner is just outside near the bar’s exit so make it count.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Of course Tyler felt the need to micromanage the party from a distance while acting like he wasn’t the most hands off manager in the industry. He could barely schedule Trent’s interviews on time but was now suddenly invested in making this fake relationship seem so solid. You just wanted to have a good time and be free of this nonsense publically like your contract originally stated.

“I can’t believe all three of the Alexander-Arnold boys are this annoying” you muttered under your breath while putting your heels on.

Your contract made it clear that New Year’s Eve was the grand finale for the public part of the facade. After tonight, you wouldn’t have to parade around looking like you were madly in love anymore. The plan was to silently pull back and make the relationship seem more private with the occasional story, casual mentions, and reposts every once in a while until June, where you would announce a breakup and be free of him for good. You grabbed your purse and headed for the door to meet Trent downstairs. If this was going to be the last time you had to fake it, you were going out with a bang..and you were going to have some fun with it too just to celebrate the end of this mess.

When you reached the lobby of the hotel, Trent was waiting for you and scrolling through his phone. He looked good, his trim was crisp, his fit wasn’t terrible, and he smelled amazingly good. He lowered his phone, eyeing you from head to toe with a clenched jaw.

“Damn” he voiced involuntarily.

You tried to avoid smirking and adjusted the strap of your dress but a smirk still appeared anyway. “That’s it? Just damn? I put a lot of effort in for this look…”

He licked over his lips and finally looked you in the eye. “Then you already know how you look.”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling great or else I’d make you say it with more enthusiasm.”

“Trust me” he started, running a hand over his head. “I’m enthusiastic but you don’t need a bigger head than you already have.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him to head to the car waiting outside, your heels tapping against the marbled lobby floor. “Shut up and come on. I can’t deal with you while sober tonight. I need a drink.”

By the time you made it to the club, it was already pure chaos. The bass was so heavy you could feel it in your chest as you walked through the VIP area. There were strobe lights flashing around, illuminating random moments of chaos. A group of footballers were trying to outdrink each other in a booth stacked with empty Clase Azul bottles, an influencer in a bright dress was dancing on a table with a sparkler in one hand, and a model was yelling at a bartender because she couldn’t find a tiny baggie of white substance she drunkenly left at the bar who knows how long ago.

When you and Trent walked in, heads turned and whispers cut through the air. His hand brushed against your back to keep up with the facade. The scent in the air was...interesting. It was a blend of liquor, sweat, perfume and the faint tang of weed smoke. You knew tonight was going to leave a mark whether it be on your reputation, your conscience, or both.

“Where’s Tyler’s pap friendly corner again?” you asked, leaning into Trent so you wouldn’t have to yell over the blaring music.

“Near the bar. But let’s grab a drink first.”

You followed him as the hem of your dress brushed against your thigh. The bar was wild. People were pushing against each other like they would run out of alcohol, or maybe they just really wanted the Getty Images watermark with a top face card photo to memorialize the end of the year. The bartender was busy juggling a bottle of Hennessy with one hand, and pouring multiple shots with the other hand, all while someone was yelling for espresso martinis from the corner.

“Champagne? Martini?” Trent asked, turning to you as you perched against the counter with your hips leaning into the wood.

You shook your head. “A round of shots from top shelf and a coconut water.”

“Uh...that’s specific.” He turned to the bartender, ordering for you and himself.

“It’s so I can get fucked up but still stay hydrated from the electrolytes.” Your hands grazed over the two strands of your hair, very diva like. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s my whole thing..it even went viral on tiktok. Don’t knock it til you try it.”

The drinks arrived quicker than you expected and you downed a couple shots immediately in between sipping the coconut water. Trent nursed his vodka soda with lime, scanning the room with his eyes.

“Don’t be boring” you said, gently shoving two shots closer to him.

“I’m not boring” he replied, eyeing the shots and the way your nails grazed against the top surface of the bar.

“Then prove it. Drink the shots and come dance with me.”

He shook his head before reaching for the shots and downing them both. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up and live a little” you quickly finished the last of your shots and coconut water and then grabbed his hand, leading him to the dancefloor as the curls in your ponytail bounced between the bass reverberating through the club.

The crowd on the dance floor was just as chaotic in a sea of gyrating bodies and heat. You were too tipsy to be sure of what the DJ switched the song to, but it felt seductive and made you sway your hips automatically. The music took control before your brain could even think about it. You turned toward Trent, moving your body to the beat with ease while he watched. He was locked in, staring at you so hard it almost looked like he didn’t realize he was eyeing you like that.

“You’re really not gonna dance?” you teased, tilted your head as you stepped closer with a flirty smirk.

“I told you I don’t–”

“Shut up Trent” you playfully grabbed his hand and pulled him further into the crowd. “Just dance with me.”

As the alcohol coursed through you, you let your hips find the beat, rolling against him with just enough pressure to test him. You felt him tense up behind you, holding his hands just above your waist like he didn’t know whether to grab you or run away.

“Aren’t you Jamaican?” you yelled over your shoulder with a smirk. “Just relax and let the beat find you.”

He let out an exhale and finally rested his hand on your hip. You arched back a little, grinding into him more and his other hand landed on your ass. His body was betraying him and his breath quickened, trying to think of anything else but your ass grinding against his dick so he wouldn’t get hard. His jaw was tight but then his lips parted when his eyes dropped to the way you were rolling your hips against him. He was barely blinking as he stared. Trent’s grip tightened just enough for you to become aware of it.

“You like dancing, don’t you?” you teased again.

“This isn’t dancing.”

“No?” you dared, grinding against him harder. “Then what is it?”

Trent’s fingers dug into your waist and pulled you up against him. His head dipped closer to your neck and he bit his lip like he was fighting the urge to kiss you there. The lines were quickly blurring in the fog of alcohol and you weren’t sure who was pushing harder to cross them. His breath was hot against your neck as you danced up against him. You felt something stiffen against his lower half but you were so tipsy you thought it was his phone. Trent abruptly pulled back, letting go of you as you stood there confused.

“I need a drink.” He turned back toward the crowd, leaving you standing there trying to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding and your body was bouncing with energy that had nowhere to go thanks to the shots and coconut water you had. Before you knew it, a voice yelled your name, but it wasn’t Trent.

It was Levi Colwill.

“Ahh, Y/N! Trent’s better half” Levi slid into Trent’s place, handing you a shot. “Got your favorite.”

You handed it back to him, forcing a smile. “Levi…”

“You look like you could use some better company” he eyed the outline of your body. “Not that Trent’s bad but..you know I’ll dance with you. Just saying.”

You rolled your eyes but still laughed at him...because you were drunk. “Still stirring the pot like always.”

“You know that’s what I do” He downed the shot you refused. “What you been up to? I know you’re exhausted pretending to be with Trent.”

The alcohol made you bolder. “You get me! He’s so annoying sometimes.”

Levi stepped closer, yelling into your ear over the music. “You know where to find me. Send me a DM when it’s all–”

“Levi” Trent slurred in an irritated tone. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Levi shook his head, sipping the drink in hand and then smirked at Trent. “I was just saying hello.”

Trent gripped your wrist firmly but not painful as he pulled you away from Levi and into a quieter corner of the club, which just so happened to be near the bar’s exit where the paps were waiting for the perfect moment to take pictures.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed, yanking your arm free.

“What was what?” Trent snapped back.

“Dragging me away like some jealous boyfriend. That’s not part of the script Trent.”

Trent’s jaw clenched and he stepped closer, leaning into your ear. “You were enjoying that too much. We’re supposed to be together..you can’t flirt with other guys here.”

You laughed, not believing your ears. “Are you dumb?! You walked away like you couldn’t handle it! I’m just trying to have fun tonight.”

“I walked away because you were making me hard.” he shot back in a drunken state, not realizing what he just admitted to.

Your brain short circuited under the fog of alcohol as the music thumped around you. All you could focus on was the thought of Trent standing in front of you, hard, because you danced on him. Then your brain took it a step further and you remembered the night his towel slipped. You had a split glimpse of him on soft and now your tipsy mind was wondering what it looked like on hard. You felt the heat from your cheeks trail down slowly, making your mouth feel dry and knees weak. You were trying to think of literally anything else but the alcohol coursing through your veins wasn't doing you any favors and neither was the way he was looking at you. Trent’s teeth pulled at his bottom lip like he was fighting his thoughts too. You shifted closer to him, playing with a strand of hair framing your face.

“Trent..” you began in a whisper. You didn’t know if you wanted to apologize, flirt, or tell him to just kiss you. His head dipped toward yours as his lips inched toward yours slowly. You were leaning in without even realizing it and his hands hovered over your waist hesitantly. Your eyes dropped to his lips and you saw him lick his lips like he was priming them.

“Y/N!”

A shrill voice broke through whatever was about to happen and you blinked back as someone grabbed your arm. It was another influencer you knew from a brand event but you couldn’t remember her name in your drunken state. She grinned and hugged you like she didn’t just ruin the most dramatic non-kiss of your life.

“Oh my days, girl I haven’t seen you in forever!” she yelled, dragging you toward a VIP booth that was probably just as chaotic as the rest of the club. Trent stood there with an unreadable expression watching as you were pulled away. He turned his gaze to the paparazzi outside who were very pissed they didn’t get their perfect shot.

Just as the countdown to midnight was about to begin, you found your way back to Trent. The club was louder than ever as the final minutes of the year ticked away. Trent was still in the same spot, nursing a fresh drink while the other hand was shoved in his pocket. He noticed you before you could say anything and you saw his eyes lock onto you with a certain look in his eye.

“Perfect timing” you giggled when you reached him, pulling him closer toward the exit where the paps were standing guard. “This is where Tyler wants us so let’s just get it over with.” You positioned yourselves near the glass doors so they would have a better view. The cold air from outside cooled you down a little, but it did nothing to knock any sort of clarity into you. As soon as the crowd started counting down, the air became tented with anticipation.

10...

9...

Your heart was beating fast against your chest and the alcohol made every sensation feel way stronger. You tilted your face up a little to meet his eyes, but he was already staring at you. Trent’s hand reached to cup your chin and tilt your face further upward.

8...

7...

His thumb brushed over the corner of your lip and the sensation made you exhale softly. He looked you in the eyes first, then at your lips, then back up at your eyes again, making you feel dizzy yet excited at the same time.

6...

5...

You parted your lips slightly with heavily lidded eyes. Both of you were supposed to be ‘acting’ but whatever was going on right now was not staged. His other hand found the dip in your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the fire in his eyes.

4...

3...

You leaned in at the same time, moving on instinct from the magnetism as the cameras outside began to flash. The paps were losing their minds and the shutters went off wildly, but all you could think about was how badly you wanted this kiss.

2...

1...

The room erupted into loud yelling, cheers, and champagne bottles popping as fireworks lit up the London sky outside. The second the cloud struck midnight, Trent’s lips lit a flame in you that made your whole body have goosebumps. His hand found your ass, gripping it firm enough to make you gasp and the tiny noise coming out of you motivated him even more. Your body arched into his as you continued kissing him in a way too entirely real make out session. You palmed the fabric over his dick and he groaned into your mouth, making you moan into his mouth in response. The crowd around you celebrated to a very random club remix of Auld Lang Syne but you were too wrapped up in him to care about celebrating the new year.

You finally pulled back breathless while staring at him. His lips were a little swollen but the fire was still in his eyes.

“We need to leave before they get the wrong pics” you blurted out, slurring your words from being tipsy but also flustered.

“Yeah” he said with his hand still on the curve of your back. “Hotel?”

“Hotel.”

When you made it back to the hotel and the lift doors closed, your back hit the mirrored wall as Trent pinned you into the corner. His hand slid over your thighs and the fabric of your dress bunched up.

“Thought I annoyed you” he muttered against your ear as his fingers slipped between your thighs.

“You still do” you replied back sassily, but then you gasped when he found the thin strap of your thong and tugged it against the folds of your pussy. The friction made you whimper and you dug your nails into his arm for stability. “But I can multitalk.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, gripping your thigh to open you up more. His other hand kept working the fabric of the thong, sliding it up and down until you were grinding against his knuckles. “Fuck you're soaked. This for me?”

“Shut up” you hissed while tugging at the button of his jeans with shaky fingers. When the lift dinged on your floor, you barely made it to the room before his hands were pulling, grabbing, and claiming you. He pressed you against a huge window of the hotel room while the fireworks were still popping off in the night sky.

“Take it off” you demanded, yanking at Trent’s shirt.

He pulled it over his head to show off his toned, muscled body that had been haunting you since the towel accident. You didn’t have much time to admire any of it because his hands were already undoing your dress, dropping it to your feet. The cool glass of the window pressed up against your bare skin and you shook a little when his lips latched on your neck, sucking and biting while his hands roamed over you. You moaned his name in a whimpered beg and arched into him when his mouth moved down to your boobs. His tongue ran over your nipple and he wrapped his lips around it, suckling gently and massaging the other with his hand. You gasped, clutching his shoulders and melting your body into his.

“You beg so pretty” he murmured against your skin. “What do you want, pretty girl? Tell me.”

“You” you panted in a trembling voice. “I need you inside me now.”

Trent groaned and ran his fingers between your folds to find your clit. The circles he rubbed against the sensitive nub made you moan loudly. “Not yet,” he rasped. “Need to feel how ready you are.” A broken sob escaped you when his fingers slid inside your pussy. His fingers were long enough to reach a spot that made your knees weak as he worked you open. Your head fell against the window as the squelch of your wetness filled the hotel room.

“Good girl” he coaxed, and your walls clenched around his fingers in response. He laughed and you could feel his smirk against your skin. “You like that, huh? You like being told how good you are?”

“Yesss” you gasped, grinding against his hand. “Fuck yes.”

He pulled his fingers out and you whined but the sound quickly turned into a needy moan when he ran the tip of his dick over your slit. He lined himself up, gripping your thighs to lift you up and push into you.

“DAMN” he groaned loudly, leaning his head back in both pleasure and disbelief from how you were gripping him. “You feel so fucking good gripping me.” You felt the curve when he stroked deeper, each thrust pressing you against the glass while the fireworks mirrored whatever was going on in this hotel room. “You’re so noisy” he teased when he heard you moan his name. He reached between your thighs to play with your clit again. “You want everyone to hear me fucking you, don’t you? You like that shit.”

You nodded, too far gone to care about anything but the feeling. “Oh my god, yes! Please don’t stop. You’re fucking me so good.”

Trent’s mouth latched to your neck again, leaving a mark you were going to have to cover up later. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer as he thrust harder..deeper. Your moans were nonstop, echoing against the window while he pounded into you.

“You’re creaming all over me” he groaned, dropping his eyes to his dick thrusting in and out of you with the perfect rhythm. “Look at that. Such a good girl for me.”

His praise and coaxing made you shatter. Your walls clenched around him while your orgasm rained over your thighs and onto him. Moaning cries mixed with his curses and filled the room until he took one last deep stroke into you and pulled out of you. You lowered yourself to take him in your mouth, sucking gently on his tip as ropes of cum filled your mouth. You got back up, very shaky and wobbly, but he wasn’t done yet. Trent carried you to the bed, lifting you up on top of him. Both of you were too far gone to care about the contract by that point and spent the rest of the night partaking in some ultra festive activities to bring in the new year as fireworks continued to pop off in the distance.

The morning after, the sunlight was streaming through the large window you had just been fucked against the night before. It way too bright for how you were feeling now, even after the coconut water. Your head was pounding and you still felt groggy. Your lashes were barely clinging on and you forgot to do your skincare routine before falling asleep thanks to your activities. You groaned and reached for your phone, fumbling with it in your hands while Trent moved from somewhere else in the room to hand you a cup of coffee.

“Good morning” he smirked at you, knowing exactly why you were in the state you were in.

“Morning...and thank you” you muttered in a scratchy voice from a mix of sleep and..other activities. You took a look at yourself with your front camera and you snorted. Your hair was all over the place, your makeup was smudged and one of your lashes was hanging off. You took a glance back over at Trent, who had faint scratches on his back, making you laugh harder. The chaos was oddly on brand for the authentic, slightly unhinged content you were known for, so you decided to capture the moment to post online.

You opened the camera app and switched to the wide angle just to make it that more authentic. You held your coffee cup in your hand with your messy hair and hanging lash on full display. In the background, Trent was off to the edge of the frame where only part of him could be seen digging through his distinctive Goyard wash bag, oblivious to his surprise cameo. You typed out the caption ‘Happy New Year 🥴✨’ and added it to the photo in white text before posting it on your story. You didn’t have to check the notifications...you knew what you did.

By the time you showered and made yourself look put together, your post had been picked up by SpillTheBeansUK where they did a full deep dive. Their post was a carousel of screenshots. The first was your original story in its chaotic glory, the second was a cropped version zoomed in on Trent’s hand digging into his bag and the faint lining of the side of his head, the third was a side by side of all the previous photos to confirm it was him.

SpillTheBeansUK: Happy New Year from Y/N and Trent Alexander-Arnold! 👀

realmrsTAA: sobbing into my pillow rn I KNOW THAT BAG

ynfansince2019: not her lashes hanging like that. IKTR QUEEN

yn_onlyyn: she’s so me coded i love her

leafygreens05: TRENT BABE TELL ME THIS ISN’T U?!? ARE THOSE SCRATCHES?

ballerbabyy: this feels like i’m on facetime with a friend i love her sm and they’re so cute

notyourfootiebae: Y/N and Trent 🏆 romeocruz: 😒

You laughed as you scrolled through the comments. Trent walked in, ready to head out for breakfast. Although, he was entirely too calm for someone who had just been moaning your name while you were bouncing on him just a few hours ago.

When you sat across from him during breakfast at the hotel restaurant, the realization of everything hit you all at once. You didn’t want this to end. Not the public antics, banter, or things with Trent. He was looking at his phone, scrolling through his apps. Unbeknownst to you, he was deleting his dating apps. All of them.

Meanwhile you were spiralling. Quietly, but definitely still spiralling.

“What happens when this is over?” you asked quietly, cutting through your eggs benedict.

He looked up, pausing his thumb over the delete button of the last app. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, stabbing at the food with a vanished appetite. “The contract. When June comes and we’re supposed to ‘break up’... What happens then?”

Trent deleted the final app and set his phone down to look at you. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

You laughed, trying to mask your nerves. “Well that’s not reassuring.”

“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “You worried about something?”

Your fork tapped against the hollandaise sauce on your food while you gathered what you wanted to say. “Um..well..this whole thing started off as a job for your image. But now....” you trailed off and looked at him.

“Now?” he prompted, locked on your eyes.

“Now it feels...different.” you admitted. “It doesn’t feel fake anymore. At least not for me.”

You thought he would smirk and have some comeback ready but he didn’t this time. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed loosely. “Doesn’t feel fake to me either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah” Trent leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. “It started off as a contract but I think that changed a little...we both know that.”

You stared at him. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we don’t have to stop,” he replied, never taking his eyes off you. “We don’t have to make a huge deal about it or anything but I don’t want to stop seeing you. It feels…” He trailed off to search for the right words.

“Like something worth exploring?” you offered, finishing his sentence.

He nodded, giving you his signature smirk, but this time it made you melt a little. “Yeah. Like that.”

The day the public stint of the contract was supposed to end came and went like any other day. You and Trent kept seeing each other instead of posting fake launch photos like the contract originally suggested after NYE. Tyler was smug about it the minute he found out, thinking he was the best Cupid ever. The last time you saw him, he handed you a Valentine’s Day PR brief with a grin.

“Guess we’re not cancelling the hard launch then?” he asked in a satisfied tone. You wanted to throw the folder at him, but he was right. You weren’t going anywhere and neither was Trent. Your fans adored the idea of you with him. There were multiple theories flooding your comment section daily, micro analyzing every interaction. Meanwhile, Trent’s fans reluctantly admitted he looked happy in a relationship for once.

The hard launch came in the form of a Youtube video thanks to the fans: Boyfriend Rates My Outfits

Your followers were begging for this video for weeks. You never announced having a boyfriend but they knew you better than that. You didn’t plan on giving in but Trent was all for it. Your chaos had rubbed off on him, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Do it” he said one night while laying in bed with you at your place after a date night. “It’ll be funny.”

“Funny for who?” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“For me.”

Eventually you agreed, and the video started with you sitting in front of your neatly organized wardrobe, clasping your hands together. “Okay..you’ve all been asking for it so we’re doing a ‘boyfriend rates my outfits’ video today. My man isn’t really a fashion connoisseur so don’t expect much.”

Trent’s voice came in from behind the camera, already flirty. “Nah, I have taste, don’t set me up like that.”

“Do you?” you countered, laughing as you disappeared to change into the first outfit.

You strutted back in the room wearing high waisted jeans, a blazer and a cropped top paired with trainers. It was chic and cute enough for a brunch or something similar. Trent zoomed the camera in dramatically on your feet. “Shoes are nice. I’ll give it...an 8.”

“An 8?!” you scoffed, doing a little spin for him. “You’re mad. This is a 10.”

“Ah..okay. 9.5 but only because you look good walking away.”

The next look was a silky midi dress with a thigh high slit, paired with strappy heels. You stepped in the room and did a twirl for the cam.

Trent let out a whistle. “11. Easily.”

“You can’t give it an 11!” you protested, hands on your hip.

“Why not?” he grinned. “I’d take you out in that.. maybe in Greece or Spain.”

For the third look, you went full streetwear and wore cargos, a fitted crop top, a leather jacket, and chunky boots. Trent panned the camera up and down with a lot of dramatics. “You look like you’re about to rob somebody.”

“Trent!”

“Hey, I’m into it though! Come rob me baby” he added quickly, smirking. “9 out of 10.”

The final outfit was a red mini dress with an open back that hugged you in all the right places, paired with heels and a statement purse. Trent was quiet as he looked at you, shaking the camera while he adjusted the focus. “Goddamn. That’s a 12.”

“A 12?” you laughed, walking up to the camera and playfully covering the lens while giving him a kiss. “You’re not supposed to go over 10, T.”

“I don’t care. You’re breaking the scale.”

Trent turned the camera to face the both of you as both of you smiled into the lens. “Alright. Like, comment, subscribe, and…” He trailed off, lowering the camera a little and looked at your lips. He whispered, thinking the mic wouldn’t catch anything but it did. “...and turn this off so I can take this dress off you.”

Your jaw dropped and you swatted at his chest playfully, giggling. “You’re going to get me demonetized if you keep talking like that.”

As you edited the video, you decided to leave that part in there because it was funny and also cute. The comments rolled in quickly when word spread around online about it:

ynbabydoll: THE WHISPER AT THE END??? HELLO? I’M FERAL

ynstanclub: trent stuns in Y/N’s youtube video!!

ynplustrent: the way the cam shook when she came out in that dress....i know they get real nasty

spicynsaucy: UNCOVER THE LENS I WANNA SEE IT

footieNfashion: why is this more compelling than any press interview he’s ever done?

LFCStan44: this feels like i shouldn’t be in the room watching them rn but i’m here for it idk. love to see him back to his happy old self

FreeKickFiend: ugh..the way he sounds when he called her baby. that should be me

YNWADefenseNeeded: bro’s focus on this video is what we need on the pitch ALL the time RedKisses98: this man has forgotten we exist. thanks a lot Y/N

You shut your laptop after the premiere of the video and sunk into the couch next to Trent. He was scrolling through the comments on his phone, with that same infuriating, yet extremely attractive smirk on his face.

“You’re really enjoying this huh?” you nudged him with your elbow in a teasing tone.

“Of course,” he replied without looking up. “I’m the star of your channel now.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Very bold of you to assume they’re watching for you.”

Finally, he looked from his phone, cupping your chin and pulling you into a kiss. “Nah...but I’m here for you though. Fully off script. No contract needed.”

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold smut #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #trent alexander arnold one shot #footballer imagines #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #football fanfic #fem!reader

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rvp32 · 1 year ago

Text

One Step at a Time

Mina is an idol, a princess, and an enigma. She was a star that burned brightly in the sky but always just out of your reach. She was a beauty like none other, like an angel who had descended onto Earth. She was your best friend, with whom you shared everything—everything except the one secret you kept hidden because you were scared of ruining the friendship you cherished the most.

“Mina, we need to leave soon. The music video shoot will start in a bit,” you reminded her as you finished packing some necessities.

Mina emerged from her room, her radiant smile lighting up the space. “Yes! Just one sec, I need to grab my Switch from the console,” she said, heading to the TV.

You watched her with a mixture of admiration and longing. She was effortlessly graceful, her every movement a dance, every glance a spark of life. Being her manager had its challenges, but the hardest part was hiding your feelings. You admired her from afar, cherishing every moment you spent together, yet always mindful of the line you couldn’t cross.

As Mina gathered her things, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for another day of keeping your emotions in check. You loved her dearly, more than she could ever know. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, her laugh that could brighten the darkest day, her unwavering dedication to her craft—every aspect of her drew you in deeper.

Your mind drifted back to the countless nights you’d spent talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. She was your confidante, your muse, your everything. But you were just her manager, her best friend, the one who was always there but never close enough.

“Got it! Let’s go,” Mina called out, breaking your reverie. She flashed you a smile, and your heart ached with the weight of your unspoken words.

As you made your way to the car, you stole glances at her, committing every detail to memory. The way her hair caught the light, the subtle scent of her perfume, the way her eyes twinkled with anticipation. Each detail was a precious fragment of the person you loved but could never claim.

“How are you feeling today? Are you ready for the shoot?” you asked, occasionally stealing glances at Mina through the rearview mirror.

“Yes! Thanks to you I got some much-needed rest. If you hadn’t taken my Switch, I might have ended up playing the entire night,” Mina said with a playful smile.

You chuckled. “Well, someone has to look out for you. You know how you get with those games.”

“I do, I do. And you’re always there to keep me in check,” she replied, her tone affectionate. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt a pang in your chest but kept your voice light. “Probably pull a few all-nighters and show up to shoots with panda eyes.”

Mina laughed, the sound like music to your ears. “True! And then you’d have to deal with a grumpy, sleep-deprived me. Not a pretty sight.”

“Hey, I’ve seen you at your worst, and you still look like an angel,” you said before you could stop yourself.

She blushed slightly, looking out the window. “You’re too kind. Really.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, filled with the hum of the car and the city sounds outside. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your unspoken feelings settle back into place.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today’s shoot?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s the final scenes for the music video. Lots of choreography, some close-ups. The director wants to capture that ‘ethereal princess’ vibe you do so well,” you explained.

Mina nodded, her excitement palpable. “I love those kinds of shoots. They’re always so magical.”

“And you make it look effortless,” you added, your admiration clear.

She glanced at you through the mirror, her eyes soft. “I have a good team behind me. Especially you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion. “Just doing my job.”

“More than just your job,” she said quietly. “You’re always there for me, in ways I can’t even begin to describe.”

You swallowed hard, the intensity of your feelings threatening to spill over. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right,” she echoed, her voice filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

*****

The shoot went smoothly, finishing no later than late afternoon, much faster than scheduled due to Mina’s professionalism.

“Good work, Mina! You were amazing out there!” you complimented her.

“Thank you! I’m so tired,” Mina said, walking toward you to grab the drink you were holding.

“So, what else is on the schedule for today?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“You have group practice coming up later this evening, and by 8 p.m., you should be done and free to go home,” you informed her.

“Yay! I can’t believe I’m getting out so early today!” Mina cheered.

******

Later, you drove her to the JYP Entertainment building. Mina was in high spirits, humming along to the radio as you navigated through the city traffic. Upon arriving, she waved at a few familiar faces and headed towards the practice rooms.

As you walked down the hallway, Mina spotted Hyunjin from Stray Kids. He was leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. When he saw Mina, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“Noona! Great to see you,” Hyunjin greeted, straightening up.

“Hey, Hyunjin! It’s been a while,” Mina replied, returning the smile.

The two of them chatted for a bit, catching up on their busy schedules. You watched them interact, noting the easy camaraderie between them. They laughed and teased each other, the conversation flowing naturally. At one point, Hyunjin playfully ruffled Mina’s hair, and she swatted his hand away, giggling.

“You’re always messing up my hair,” she complained, but her tone was light and affectionate.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” Hyunjin teased back.

The moment was sweet, a reminder of the strong bonds formed within the industry. You felt a pang of jealousy but quickly brushed it aside. Mina’s happiness was what mattered most.

“I’ve got to head to group practice now,” Mina said, glancing at the time. “Catch you later, Hyunjin!”

“Good luck!” Hyunjin called out as she turned to leave.

Mina walked over to you, her smile still lingering from the interaction. “Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” you replied, leading her to the practice room.

Inside, the other members were already warming up. Mina joined them, her focus shifting seamlessly to the task at hand. You watched from the sidelines, admiring her dedication and skill. She moved with a grace that was both powerful and effortless, her presence commanding the room.

As practice continued, you kept an eye on the time, making sure everything stayed on schedule. Mina’s energy never wavered, her passion for performing evident in every move. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that you played a small part in supporting her journey.

When the clock struck 8 p.m., practice wrapped up. The group exchanged a few words of encouragement before heading out. Mina approached you, her face flushed with exertion but glowing with satisfaction.

“All done for the day,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Great job today, Mina. You were incredible,” you praised.

“Thanks to you,” she replied softly.

You smiled, your heart full. “Ready to go home?”

“You go on and head home, Hyunjin wanted to grab some food so I am going to meet with him and have him drop me home,” Mina says

Hearing Mina’s gratitude made your heart swell, but it also brought a sharp pang of longing. A part of you wanted to stop her from going, to hold her back and keep her close, but you knew you had no right to do that. Being powerless in this situation, you could do nothing but nod and say, “Okay, good night, be careful!”

She gave you a warm smile. “Good night. See you tomorrow!”

You watched her walk away, every step pulling her further from you. The ache in your chest grew, but you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within.

After Mina left, you made your way to your office to pack up. The room felt emptier than usual, the silence almost suffocating. You gathered your things, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to Mina. The image of her smiling face, and her gentle words, lingered in your thoughts, a bittersweet reminder of what you could never have.

As you headed home, you took a detour through the parking lot. That’s when you saw them—Mina and Hyunjin. They were standing by his car, talking animatedly. Then, to your dismay, Hyunjin pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back, her expression relaxed and happy.

A wave of jealousy crashed over you, raw and intense. You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white. The helplessness you felt was overwhelming, the realization that you had no place at that moment, no right to feel this way, cutting deep.

Mina and Hyunjin broke apart, and she got into his car. You watched as they drove away, the taillights disappearing into the night. The sense of loss was almost tangible, a hollow ache that settled in your chest.

When you finally arrived home, the emptiness of your apartment felt even more pronounced. You dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events of the evening played over and over in your mind, each memory tinged with longing and regret.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, but they persisted. The sight of Mina and Hyunjin together, the easy affection between them—it was a stark reminder of everything you couldn’t have. The love you felt for her, unspoken and unrequited, weighed heavily on your heart.

Reaching for your phone, you scrolled through the photos you had taken during the shoot. Each picture was a testament to Mina’s beauty and talent, but also a painful reminder of the distance between you. You lingered on one photo, in particular, a candid shot of her laughing. It was a moment of pure joy, unguarded and real. You wished you could be the one to make her laugh like that, to share in her happiness in a way that went beyond friendship.

But you knew it was a dream, a fantasy that would never come true. Loving Mina from afar was all you had, and it had to be enough. You had to accept that.

******

This was the last music show Twice would be on for this comeback. The comeback had gone exceptionally well, with the group winning numerous awards. After this final performance, all the members were given some well-deserved free time to relax and enjoy themselves. As everyone waited in the dressing room, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and excitement.

You were busy making sure everything was in order when Hyunjin appeared at the door, carrying bags of food and drinks. He wore a bright smile, his presence immediately lifting the already jubilant mood.

“Hey everyone! I brought some snacks and drinks to celebrate your amazing comeback!” Hyunjin announced, his voice full of enthusiasm.

The members of Twice cheered, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. “Hyunjin! Thank you so much!” they chorused, crowding around him to take the treats.

You watched as Hyunjin handed out the food and drinks, your eyes inevitably drawn to Mina. She accepted a drink with a grateful smile, and then, to your dismay, Hyunjin made a beeline for her. They began chatting animatedly, their laughter filling the room.

You tried to focus on your tasks, but your attention kept drifting back to them. The way Hyunjin leaned in slightly when he spoke, the way Mina’s eyes sparkled with genuine happiness—each detail stoked the fire of jealousy burning in your chest.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mina gently touch Hyunjin’s arm, her gesture full of warmth and familiarity. It was a small act of affection, but it cut deeply. You felt powerless, standing there with your heart aching and your mind racing.

Trying to shake off the feelings, you busied yourself with organizing the room, making sure everyone had what they needed. But the image of Mina and Hyunjin together was seared into your mind.

Finally, you stepped outside for a moment, needing some air. The hallway was quieter, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths.

******

It had been two weeks since the holidays started, and as of today, it was the eighth time you were driving Mina to meet with Hyunjin. Each time hurt just as much as the first, and you had finally decided that this would be the last. You had asked to be transferred to a different department, and today you would tell Mina about it.

The drive was quiet, the air filled with unspoken tension. You stole a glance at Mina, who was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips. It made your heart ache, knowing this was the last time you’d be doing this.

When you arrived at the café where Hyunjin was waiting, you parked the car and turned to Mina. “Mina, can we talk for a moment before you go in?”

She looked at you, her smile fading slightly. “Sure, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve asked to be transferred to a different department.”

Mina’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why?”

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice even. “I think it’s time for a change. I’ve been with you and the group for a long time, and I feel like it’s time to explore new opportunities within the company.”

“But… I need you,” Mina said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve always been there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you pushed forward. “You’ll be fine, Mina. You’re strong and talented, and you have a great team to support you. It’s not like I’ll be gone completely; I’ll just be in a different department.”

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “I guess… I just didn’t expect this. It feels sudden.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not an easy decision, but I believe it’s the right one for both of us.”

Mina took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “If this is what you want, then I won’t stop you. But I’ll miss you. A lot.”

You smiled, trying to hide your pain. “I’ll miss you too, Mina. More than you know. But this isn’t goodbye forever. We’ll still see each other around.”

She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you’ll let me know?”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hand back. “You take care of yourself too. And keep being the amazing person you are.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your hand lingering for a moment before she let go. “I should go. Hyunjin’s waiting.”

You nodded, watching as she got out of the car and walked towards the café. As she greeted Hyunjin with a warm smile and a hug, you felt the familiar pang of jealousy and heartache. But you knew this was the right decision, for both of you.

******

The next few weeks had been the worst. No matter what you did, you always thought about Mina, missing her laugh and her silly conversations. You knew it was for the best to avoid her because you needed to get over your feelings for her. So you drowned yourself in work, starting a new project on the production team for a new music video. All you did was eat, work, and sleep, not going out or even meeting with any of your friends.

One night, just as you were about to sleep, the doorbell rang. To your surprise, it was Jihyo. She was one of the other members you were close to.

“Hey, what is this I’m hearing? Are you no longer Mina’s manager?” she questioned.

“Yeah, it’s been a few weeks since I was transferred. Did she not tell you?” you replied coldly, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“She did, but the reason you gave her makes absolutely no sense. I know you, and you would never leave Mina, no matter how bored you got with the work. Otherwise, you would have never been her manager. So tell me, what is the real reason you left?” Jihyo asked her tone firm yet concerned.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. “Jihyo, it’s complicated. I... I have feelings for Mina. And it was getting too hard to be around her, especially when she’s spending so much time with Hyunjin.”

Jihyo’s eyes softened with understanding. “Oh, I see. But from what I can see I don’t think they are dating. He’s been supportive during her comeback, but I don’t think there’s anything more than that.”

You shook your head, the pain still fresh. “It doesn’t matter. I needed to distance myself. It was too painful watching them together, even if they were just friends. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

Jihyo looked at you thoughtfully. “I get it. But you know, Mina misses you. She’s been asking about you a lot. She doesn’t understand why you left so suddenly.”

“She’ll be fine, Jihyo. She has you and the rest of the group to support her,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Jihyo sighed. “You’re right, but it’s not the same. You were always there for her, more than just a manager. She needs you, even if she doesn’t realize it.”

“I appreciate you coming here, Jihyo, but I’ve made my decision. I can’t go back. It’s too much,” you said, your voice filled with resignation.

Jihyo nodded slowly, seeing the determination in your eyes. “Alright. But if you ever change your mind, know that we’re here for you. And if you need to talk, about anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot,” you replied, feeling a small sense of relief from her understanding.

After Jihyo left, you thought a lot about what she said and how much you missed all the other girls. Realizing how your decision had affected not just Mina but also the rest of the members with whom you were close, you began to reconsider. Though you were busy with work, the occasional messages from them reminded you of the bond you shared.

A few months passed since your conversation with Jihyo. After the shooting of the music video and the comeback schedule finished, you were promoted to the head manager of Twice. It wasn't something you were particularly excited about, but the significant pay rise made it an offer you couldn't refuse. Still, you knew it was going to be challenging.

Not long after your promotion, you found out that Mina was dating Hyunjin. The news hit you hard, but you chose to ignore it and focused on your work. It was painful, but you buried yourself in your new responsibilities, determined to make the best of the situation.

Despite your busy schedule, you found solace in spending time with Jihyo. Whenever the two of you had free time, you would hang out and talk about various things, with golf being a frequent topic of conversation. Jihyo had insisted you try it, and to your surprise, you found it quite enjoyable.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day, Jihyo invited you to the driving range. "Come on, you need a break. Let’s hit some balls and unwind," she said, her tone light and encouraging.

You smiled, grateful for her persistence. "Alright, Jihyo. Lead the way."

As you both practiced your swings, the conversation flowed easily. Jihyo’s laughter and positive energy were infectious, helping you forget your troubles, even if just for a little while.

"So, how are you holding up with all the new responsibilities?" Jihyo asked, adjusting her stance.

"It's been a lot, but I'm managing," you replied, taking a swing. "I just try to stay focused on the work and not think too much about... other things."

Jihyo nodded, understanding. "I know it’s tough, but you’re doing great. We all appreciate everything you do for us."

Her words brought warmth to your heart. "Thanks, Jihyo. That means a lot."

As the sun began to set, you both sat down on a bench, enjoying the peaceful evening. "You know," Jihyo said thoughtfully, "I'm really glad we’ve been spending more time together. It’s nice having someone to talk to about things outside of work."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it’s been good for me too. I’ve needed the distraction."

Jihyo smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, anytime you need to vent or just hang out, I’m here. We’re all in this together, right?"

"Right," you agreed, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

*******

Walking through the halls after taking a few printouts, you were suddenly pulled into a room. "Oh my god! What the fuck?" you screamed out of surprise.

It was even more shocking because it was Mina, who you hadn’t spoken to about anything other than work since you came back as the head manager. “Oh Mina, what happened? Is anything wrong?” you asked, trying to be professional despite your racing heart.

Mina’s eyes flashed with a mixture of emotions. “What’s wrong? You tell me! Ever since you came back, you’ve been avoiding me. You spend all your time with Jihyo now. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Mina, it’s not like that. I’m just trying to do my job and—”

“Do your job? You barely even look at me anymore! We used to be so close, and now it’s like I don’t even exist to you unless it’s about work,” she interrupted, her voice rising.

“Mina, please understand. I needed some distance. It’s not personal,” you explained, your voice gentle but firm.

“Not personal? It feels pretty personal to me!” she shot back, her frustration clear. “I see you laughing and talking with Jihyo all the time. Why can’t you be like that with me?”

You sighed, struggling to find the right words. “Mina, it’s complicated. You have Hyunjin now, and I—”

Mina cut you off, her eyes narrowing. “What does Hyunjin have to do with this? This is about us. Our friendship.”

Before you could respond, she stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. “I miss you. I miss us,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Your heart ached at her words, but you knew you had to stay strong. “Mina, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you too. But things are different now.”

Her eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination. “Why can’t we go back to the way things were?”

As you tried to explain, she suddenly leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Shocked, you gently pushed her away, your heart pounding. “Mina, you can’t do this. You’re with Hyunjin.”

Mina stepped back, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. “I—I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “It’s okay, but we can’t do this. You need to figure out what you want.”

Mina nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I just… I don’t understand why this is happening. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, Mina. I’m still here, just in a different way,” you said softly. “But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin.”

She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

She left you alone in the room, and you collapsed to the ground. Kissing Mina was something you had always dreamed about, but somehow this wasn’t how you wanted it to be. It was overwhelming because you wanted nothing more than to give in to your desire, kiss her, and enjoy every single second of it. You wanted to hold her close and never let her go, but you knew this was something impulsive. Mina was confused, and at the end of the day, she would go back to her boyfriend.

Sitting there on the cold floor, you buried your face in your hands, trying to calm your racing heart. The weight of the situation bore down on you, and the reality of your feelings hit you harder than ever before.

After a few moments, you managed to pull yourself together and stood up, taking a deep breath. You knew you had to stay focused and professional, even if it felt like your heart was breaking.

As you walked back to your office, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The memory of her lips on yours was vivid, but you pushed it aside, knowing that dwelling on it would only make things worse. You had a job to do, and you needed to be strong.

Over the next few days, she kept her distance from you. You coordinated schedules, managed logistics, and ensured everything ran smoothly for Twice’s upcoming projects. The busyness helped to distract you, but it couldn't erase the ache in your chest.

During one of your breaks, you found yourself sitting with Jihyo in the practice room. She noticed the tired look in your eyes and gave you a concerned glance. “You okay? You seem a bit off lately.”

You forced a smile, not wanting to burden her with your troubles. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jihyo raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with Mina?”

Her perceptiveness caught you off guard, and you sighed, unable to hide the truth from her. “Yeah, we had a bit of a... moment the other day. It’s complicated.”

Jihyo frowned, leaning closer. “What happened?”

You hesitated but then decided to share. “She kissed me. It was impulsive, and I know she’s confused. I had to push her away because she was with Hyunjin. But it’s been eating me up inside.”

Jihyo’s expression softened with understanding. “That’s tough. But you did the right thing. She needs to figure out her feelings, and you can’t let yourself get caught up in that mess.”

“I know,” you said, your voice heavy with resignation. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Jihyo reached out and squeezed your hand. “Hang in there. Focus on the positive things, like our golf sessions. You’ve been improving a lot, you know.”

You chuckled and she hugged you, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Jihyo. It means a lot to me to know that I have

Jihyo smiled warmly. “And remember, you’re not alone. We’re all here for you. Don’t be afraid to lean on us when you need to.”

You didn’t let go of Jihyo for a few minutes because it felt calming, but that wasn’t the best idea. Mina walked into the room and saw it, her face contorting with fury. Not caring about anything else, Mina stormed towards you, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. Her grip was tight, her nails digging into your skin.

“Mina, stop! Where are you taking him?” Jihyo screamed, panic in her voice.

“Jihyo, stay out of this!” Mina screamed back, her voice echoing through the room. It was rare to hear Mina that loud, and Jihyo, shocked, decided to let you both figure it out yourselves.

Mina dragged you into an empty room down the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. She let go of your hand, and you rubbed the red marks left by her nails. "Mina, what the hell? What's going on?" you demanded, trying to keep your anger in check.

"What's going on?" Mina shot back, her eyes blazing. "You tell me! I walk in, and I see you all cozy with Jihyo. What am I supposed to think?"

"Mina, Jihyo was just trying to comfort me," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We're friends. That's all."

"Friends? You think I don't see what's going on?" she yelled, her voice breaking. "You’ve been avoiding me, spending all your time with Jihyo. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"How it makes you feel?" you echoed incredulously. "Mina, you're the one who kissed me and then went back to Hyunjin like nothing happened! How do you think I feel?"

She flinched at your words, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I don't know. I was confused. I still am. But seeing you with her... it hurts."

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Mina, I’ve been trying to deal with my feelings. It’s hard seeing you with Hyunjin, knowing I can't be with you the way I want to be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you."

She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "I miss you. I miss us. I don't know what to do with these feelings, but I can’t stand seeing you with someone else."

You felt a pang of guilt and longing, but you knew you had to stay strong. "Mina, you need to figure out what you want. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, to Hyunjin, or me. It's not fair to any of us."

She looked down, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

You reached out, gently lifting her chin so she could meet your gaze. "It’s okay to be confused, Mina. But you need to be honest with yourself and with Hyunjin. Only then can we figure out what comes next."

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will. I promise."

It was an improvement because there was some hope for you and Mina, as she was feeling something similar to what you were! But it was still confusing, and you needed time to think, especially after all that had just happened. You called in sick and left the set immediately, deciding to grab a drink to cool down a little.

You found a quiet bar a few blocks away and took a seat in a dimly lit corner. The bartender approached, and you ordered a drink, hoping it would help settle your racing thoughts. As you took your first sip, the events of the past few weeks replayed in your mind. The kiss, Mina’s outburst, the tension, and the hope of something more—it was all too much to process.

The bar was relatively empty, the low hum of conversations and soft music providing a comforting backdrop. You nursed your drink, trying to make sense of your feelings. Mina's confession had given you hope, but her confusion and the reality of her relationship with Hyunjin kept you grounded.

After a couple of drinks, you went home and eventually crashed.

It was the weekend, and you had no plans whatsoever. Planning to drown yourself in alcohol and play games the entire day, you settled into a routine of indulgence and distraction. Eventually, you fell asleep again in front of the TV, watching some stupid videos. You were woken up by a sudden knock on the door. Groggily walking to the door, disheveled, you opened it to find none other than the one woman in this entire world you were trying to avoid.

“Mina.”

She stood there, looking almost as disheveled as you felt, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of determination and hesitation. "Hey," she said softly, biting her lower lip.

"Hey," you replied, unable to hide your surprise and confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, but then stepped aside, letting her enter. The room was a mess, a testament to your recent attempts at distraction, and Mina took it all in with a concerned glance.

"I didn’t know where else to go," she admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about. About us."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the fog of alcohol. "Mina, I don’t know if this is the best time..."

"I know," she interrupted, her eyes pleading. "But I can't keep avoiding this. Avoiding you. We need to talk."

You sighed, gesturing for her to sit down. "Okay, let’s talk."

Just as you were about to turn around to get her some water, she grabbed you and pulled you into a kiss and yet again you pushed her away.

“MINA!” You screamed.

"I ended things with Hyunjin," she began, her voice steady but her eyes filled with emotion. "It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. I needed to be honest with myself and with you."

Your heart raced at her words, a mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. "Mina, that’s a big step. But where does that leave us?"

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice trembling. "All I know is that I miss you. I miss us. And I can’t stand the thought of losing you."

You looked into her eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. "I miss you too, Mina. But this is complicated. We can’t just pretend everything’s okay."

“Fuck complicated! I need you right now. Those kisses are so intoxicating, it's like a drug, and I can’t live without it,” Mina said, already frustrated. You could see she was trying to hold back as much as you were.

You could no longer hold back either and finally gave in, pulling Mina into you and kissing her. The kiss was so passionate, tongues dancing. Her hands freely explored your body while yours did the same, tracing every curve and line, memorizing the feeling of her against you.

"Mina," you murmured against her lips, the word a mix of desire and need.

She responded by pressing closer, deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in your hair. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You could feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, matching your own.

As your hands roamed, exploring every inch of each other, you felt a surge of emotions. Desire, yes, but also love and longing, things you had tried to suppress for so long. You broke the kiss, both of you panting, eyes locked.

"Mina, are you sure?" you asked, needing to know she wanted this as much as you did, despite the complications.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breathless but certain. "I've never been more sure of anything."

You pulled her back into another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate, savoring each second. The tension between you, built up over months, finally found release in the shared intimacy. It was like nothing else mattered but the two of you, here and now.

You carried her to the couch, your movements urgent but careful, laying her down gently. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire and trust. "I've wanted this for so long," she confessed, her voice soft.

"Me too," you admitted, leaning down to kiss her again, your hands exploring the soft skin beneath her shirt, skin as smooth as silk. She fit so perfectly in your hand.

Your hands sneak underneath her bra, playing with her boobs, her nipples hard as a rock causing her to moan. The bra was a disturbance so you unclasp it and take it off Mina.

“Mina you are so fucking perfect. You don’t know just how happy I am right now,” you say. Not able to contain your excitement, you bite Mina’s neck you knew it would leave a mark but you didn’t care because right now she belonged to you and no one else.

“Ngh! Y/N slow down, it’s going to leave a mark,” Mina says as she tries to push you away.

Pulling away from Mina you look into her eyes and say “That’s what I want. I want everyone to know that you belong to me now.”

Mina’s face turned red, “hey! Don’t say that,” Mina said as she buried her face in her hands.

“Alright, I will do it somewhere no one can see then,” you say before you begin nibbling just above Mina’s right breast. Mina’s breasts must have been a sensitive spot for her because as you nibbled on her breast, you could hear her moan and her grip on your head tighten.

To ensure that Mina’s other breast is equally attended, use your hand to play with the nipple. After giving her boobs the appreciation they deserved, you began to place kisses all over her body, memorizing every inch of her perfect body. She had a few moles on her body and you placed kisses on them multiple times before moving on. Mina’s moans echoed through the room as you worshipped her body. Once you reached her pants you looked up at Mina, asking for permission and she nodded, but before you took off her pants you said, “If we are going to do this then I would rather have my first time with you on a proper bed.”

Grabbing Mina’s hand you pull her with you to the room, once you are inside, you kneel in front of her. Pulling her pants down along with her panties, placing kisses on her thighs near her but not touching it.

The pants now discarded, Mina stood in your room naked, a scene that you never thought would become reality. Taking one of Mina’s legs you place it on your shoulder, her wet pussy on full display for you.

“D-don’t stare,” Mina says, shy from how vulnerable she is.

“Artwork such as this needs to be admired, baby,” you say, not noticing the endearment you had just used. Not wanting to keep her waiting, you dive into her pussy, licking it. Her pussy was delicious, something that you would never get tired of eating.

Mina grabbed your hair, trying to keep her balance and not fall. Her moans get louder every second. The pleasure slowly took over her brain, her pussy throbbed around your fingers every time you flicked her clit.

“CUMMINGG!” Mina screamed before squirting all over your face. Her balance was completely lost, she was leaning completely on your body and was able to stand with some help from the bed frame.

But that balance soon gave in and she ended up falling onto the bed, recovering from her orgasm, still panting and shaking. You joined her on the bed, lying down next to her, waiting for her to come back to reality.

“Fuck, This is the first time, I came that hard,” Mina says, after coming down from the high.

“My turn now,” Mina says before getting up to undo your pants and get rid of them. She slowly pulls down your underwear and your dick pops out and hits Mina in the face.

“Someone’s eager,” Mina says, grabbing your cock she starts to stroke it, slowly using her spit as the lube. After stroking it for a few seconds, she took your cock in her mouth. It was warm and just as perfect as you imagined it would be.

Mina began bobbing her head, trying her best to take more of your cock, she was struggling to take your entire length but you didn’t mind because the way she looked at you made you go feral, her look was that of someone wanting praise.

“Fuck! Mina, I want to fuck your mouth so badly,” you said, doing your best to hold back and not scare her away.

Mina pulls your cock out of her mouth, panting and coughing from how much she was pushing herself. “Do it the, fuck my face please, I want to make you cum the same way that you did to me,” Mina said, looking up at you with those captivating eyes, begging to be used for your pleasure and who were you to say no.

She slowly puts your cock back into her mouth and begins bobbing and pushing herself as deep as she could. Grabbing the back of her head, you push her head further into your body until her nose touches your pelvis bone, Mina gagged a little but she didn’t resist.

You pulled it out a little before you started pounding her face, “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” you groaned before pushing Mina’s head down your dick and releasing all your cum down her throat.

After you stopped cumming, Mina swallowed up all your cum, without any complaints at all.

You watched as Mina walked to the washroom, to clean up a little, her as swaying from one side to the other. With every step her ass cheeks bouncing. This turned you on a lot more than you thought it would.

As soon as Mina came back you pushed her onto the bed and got on top of her, pinning both her hands above her head.

“How are you so fucking gorgeous? It's driving me crazy,” You say to Mina, looking deep into her eyes. They soften at your compliment, it wasn’t just out of lust but out of pure admiration for her and she knew it.

“I could ask you the same thing, how is it possible that you don’t have women dying for you because I would do anything to be with you,” Mina says.

Closing the distance, her breath touching your skin, “Then prove it to me!”

Mina closes the distance between you, lips touching and moving in harmony. “Enough, please fuck me, I have wanted this for so long, I can’t wait anymore,” Mina says, you can hear how desperate she is.

“Nor can I baby,” you say before positioning your cock at Mina’s entrance, slapping and teasing it. Her wet pussy juice sticking to your cock.

“Stop teasing and put it in,” Mina whined and you obliged, slowly pushing your tip into her, god was she tight, she was gripping onto your tip so hard. You continue to push into her slowly but stop all when you hear Mina scream.

You start to pull out a little because you don’t want to hurt Mina, “No!! Keep going please, just slowly,” Mina says as she grips your arms.

“Baby, you need to relax, you are too tense and that's why it’s hurting you,” You say to Mina before leaning in to kiss her.

Mina’s focused on the kiss, tongue in your mouth, taking this opportunity, you push into her again slowly

“HGNH” Mina groaned again but she relaxed, focusing more on the kiss.

Once you were in her completely you stayed still allowing her to adjust and not wanting to hurt her. After a minute or so Mina pulls away from the kiss and says,” You can move now,”

You begin to move slowly in the beginning. You tried different angles to find Mina’s most sensitive spot. Moans filled the room, louder every time you hit a certain spot. Pleasure building up Mina wanted more,

“Harder, you can go harder,” Mina managed to say in between her moans. Obliging with her commands your thrusts get harder. It was truly a sight to take in, Mina’s tits bouncing out of control, her moans loud enough to be heard by your neighbors, and the most erotic expression on her face.

“Ahh fuck! Keep going! Oh my fucking god,” All sorts of obscenities were coming out of Mina’s mouth, her elegant image was being destroyed and you were the reason for it.

You couldn’t hold on much longer but you didn’t want it to end. Without pulling out, you picked Mina up, holding her in your arms as you continued to pound her. Your dick now hitting much deeper.

“Oh fuck! Keep going, I need you so badly!” Mina moaned as her hands gripped onto your back, nails digging in, and her legs on your hands as you thrust into her.

After thrusting into Mina’s tight pussy for many minutes, “CUMMING!” Mina screams as she squirts all over your cock. Your dick slips out of her and is now coated with her liquid.

Soon recovering from her orgasm still in your arms she whispers something that you didn’t expect to hear. “Let me ride you,”

It was a shocking suggestion but one that you welcomed. You set her down on the bed and join her on the bed, She is now sitting on you, her legs on each side of your body. Her pussy lips are right above your cock.

Not wasting much time, Mina pushes your cock into her, it wasn’t that hard as now she was a little more relaxed once it was fully in she began bouncing on it like no tomorrow. She was amazing, it was like nothing you had ever felt, the way she moved was immaculate.

Mina leans down to kiss you as she continues to ride your cock. Given how much her pussy was throbbing it wouldn’t be much longer before she was cumming all over your cock again.

You grab a hold of her ass and push her down harsher, it takes her by surprise causing her to yelp. You were thrusting into Mina’s G-spot causing her to scream in pleasure. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the profanities that came out of Mina’s mouth.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” Mina warned this time before she orgasmed all over your cock again but this time you didn’t stop.

“F-fuck.. I can’t- ‘s too much,” Mina cried, tears staining her pretty cheeks as you continued to thrust into her even though she just came

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mina cried, a clear stream of liquid gushing out from her pussy

“There we go, that’s a good fucking girl,” you praised, thrusts getting sloppier as you approached your second orgasm. “God baby, you’re gripping me so hard. Gonna cum in that tight little pussy okay?”

Mina’s head was so empty, nodding absentmindedly as her eyes threatened to close shut. “Fuck” you groaned loudly, bottoming out inside her and allowing your seed to fill you up. Some of it dripped down your thigh as he pulled out.

Mina was panting hard in an attempt to catch your breath, the body still spasming as you let her fall limp against your chest. “you’re a meanie,” Mina pouted tiredly, feeling your pussy flutter at the newfound emptiness.

“I know I am baby, but you did so good, took it so well” you chuckled, gripping the flesh of her ass as you kissed softly down the delicate skin on her neck.

After both of you came down from the high of your orgasms, you finally realized what just happened and how big this was.

“Mina, this means that we are dating, right? Because I don’t think I could ever face you as anything but your boyfriend after what we just did,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of your words.

Mina looked up at you, her eyes softening as she took in the seriousness of your expression. She reached out, cupping your face in her hands, and smiled. "Yes, it does. I want us to be together. I’ve wanted it for a long time."

Relief and joy flooded through you, and you leaned down to kiss her again, this time with a sense of certainty and commitment. The kiss was tender, full of promises for the future.

The next morning, you woke up with Mina in your arms, her presence a comforting warmth against your side. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Mina stirred, blinking sleepily as she looked up at you.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice still husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," she said simply, snuggling closer. "And a little scared, but mostly happy."

You nodded, understanding the mix of emotions. "Me too. But we’ll figure it out, together."

She smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. "Yes, together."

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments. You had to navigate your new relationship while maintaining professionalism at work. There were moments of awkwardness, but also moments of pure bliss as you both found your rhythm.

You and Mina kept your relationship private, sharing it only with those closest to you. Jihyo was ecstatic when she found out, giving you both a knowing smile and a heartfelt hug. The other members were equally supportive, happy to see Mina truly happy.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Mina found yourselves on the company rooftop, a favorite spot for a quiet escape. The city lights twinkled below, and the cool breeze provided a perfect backdrop for a heart-to-heart conversation.

"Can you believe how far we’ve come?" Mina mused, leaning against you.

"It feels surreal," you admitted, wrapping an arm around her. "But I wouldn’t change a thing."

She turned to face you, her expression serious. "I know this won’t always be easy. There will be challenges, both personal and professional. But I want to face them with you."

"We will," you assured her, kissing her forehead. "One step at a time."

As the night grew darker, you both sat there, comfortable in the silence and each other's company, knowing that no matter what came next, you were in it together.

#mina smut #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop smut #twice jihyo #twice #twice mina

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glamourscat · 7 months ago

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࣪ ִֶָ☾. My Love Mine All Mine - Shidou Ryusei ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Content: illusion to a bad childhood and trauma but nothing explicit has been discussed, mention of reader wearing glasses synopsis: a "poetic" way of how Shidou realised he was in love with you and the implications of so love

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Cause my love is mine, all mine… I love mine, mine, mine.

It’s true that in this world, in this life, nothing is free. From what we consume to what we do—everything has a cost. Nothing is free, nothing is certain. And Shidou knows a thing or two about the latter. Growing up in a rough, violent environment where love was a conditional act, he knew from an early age that, yes, in fact; love is conditional. Some people choose to love you because you are pretty, others because you are useful to them, others even because they are selfish enough to open their hearts to the unknown aspects that life has to offer.

Still, it’s one’s capability and choice to love.

And Shidou had not been loved by his parents, not that he could say his parents loved each other to begin with. Their love was a transaction. It was not love when he was screamed at for colouring on the table as a kid and thus punished. It was not love when they forced him, unbeknownst to his young mind, to steal to survive life because of their poor income. It was not love when two selfish souls decided to bring and “raise” a child in extreme poverty, giving him a setback in life. It was not love. Every slap, every shout, every kick. It was not love.

Cause my love is mine, all mine… I love mine, mine, mine.

Love is not the possession of another. You might have birthed your child, but they do not belong to you. What belongs to you is the love you have for them; that’s all you have. The thing that most do not, or fail to, realize is that love is a deeply human experience. The profound realization that you, as an individual, have the ability to feel a certain way about someone is deeply intersected with the complexity of being human.

Shidou’s childhood was an endless expanse of longing and confusion. Every harsh word, every dismissive gesture carved deep wounds into his young heart, leaving him longing for affection, for understanding. The humane instinct to be free and simultaneously to be freed. In the silence of his room, when night came and he was left to his device at times with shedding tears, he would often wonder what it meant to be loved, to be cherished. But such thoughts were fleeting, quickly swallowed by the harsh reality that surrounded him.

And then, you appeared. Such a contradictory thing. Gentle as the caress of the wind on a summer night and yet loud and firm as thunder during the coldest winters. At first, he didn’t understand you. You were kind, sincere and in a way like him. Honest in your thoughts and words, barely sugar-coating them and yet he couldn't say you were violent. Still, his heart, conditioned to mistrust, shut off at the unfamiliar warmth you brought.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

One evening, you had followed him on the rooftop of the team's base; not that you would admit that. The untouched camera remained in your hands, as you two sat together on the rooftop, he looked at you. “Why do you stick around?” he asked, his voice rough, almost challenging.

You smiled, but it was not a mocking smile. It was challenging, the good kind. As if to say 'dare try to tell me I am wrong.' "Not that I need an excuse to, but simply because I want to." you shrug as you lay on the rooftop staring the mix of colours in the sky "I think you're worth staying for."

He scoffed, but there was a crack in his bravado. “You must be blind, then.”

“Perhaps. I do wear glasses after all" you say with a hint of a foolish smile.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

He began to understand love in the simple act of being seen, being heard. That freedom he long waited for, that need of explosion to be seen, had arrived. He does not know exactly how and when it did. He just knows that he started to recognized love in the comfort of your presence. How you stood by him, unwavering, even when his past threatened to pull him back into the abyss. You challenged him, yes, but with a gentleness that was foreign yet profoundly healing. You put him in his place when needed to, but you always did it in such a way that made him want to become a better person by the end of it.

He saw love in your dreams, your passions, and the way you lit up when speaking about them. It mirrored the fire he felt for football, a testament to the unspoken bond between two souls who dared to dream despite the odds.

Cause my love is mine, all mine… I love mine, mine, mine.

And now, Shidou, understands that love is not something to be given or taken, but something to be felt, deeply and unapologetically, within oneself. And no one can take his love away from him. Even during the hardest days, he knows that he has a choice and that choice is to love you.

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kannouo · 9 months ago

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I'm so lucky, lucky!

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers x gn!reader warnings: none prompt by @ember-is-clueless: Can I request the brothers with an extremely lucky MC? The MC might not go to gamble a lot but when they do they win every time, it also strays off to other aspects like if they guess which answer is right on a test, they get it correct. Thank you <3 A/N: ty for the request <333 I hope this is okay. this idea was pretty fun to think about actually as there are a lot of scenarios that could happen surrounding this. i also went super far with just how lucky the mc is lol, just letting you know i basically went the superpower route.

LUCIFER

• Lucifer notices how lucky you are very early on during your stay at the Devildom.

• You were somehow always in exactly the right place at the right time to avoid his and his brothers' wrath. When demons at RAD would make any attempt to harm you, you would just happen to run into him or even Diavolo himself before they could do anything. In fact, even when you went against his orders and went out late alone, you would always come back unscathed.

• Lucifer doesn't believe in luck, and therefore isn't comfortable relying on chance alone to keep you out of danger. It might save him a headache or two, but overall, he won't loosen up his overprotective tendencies. What if the one time he puts his faith in your luck to protect you, something goes wrong?

• He realises later on that your luck comes into play with him too. Whenever you're caught alongside the anti-Lucifer squad — if he ever even manages to catch you in the first place — he always just happens to be in a merciful mood that day, so the punishments you all receive are comparatively light.

• He is trying to work on this. He can't have anyone thinking he's gone soft.

• Is admittedly impressed by your ability to pass any test by guessing the answers, but cannot support you getting by on just that. He will still enforce studying time for you and insists you actually make an effort with your schoolwork, even if you don't think it's necessary.

• Lucifer is not amused when his brothers start trying to drag you everywhere with them to use your luck to their advantage, and encourages you not to let them do so. Even if you don't mind it, nothing good comes from them getting their way all of the time.

You were really in trouble this time. Caught trying to give a cup of coffee laced with one of Satan's newest concoctions to Lucifer, it seemed lady luck was absent today. You knelt before him with your head lowered as he glared down at you, but just as he opened his mouth to begin his lecture... CRASH! You jumped at the loud sound of glass shattering in the hallway, followed by a yelp that sounded suspiciously like Mammon. You turned to Lucifer, who had directed his attention to the door, where the sound came from. "MAAAMMOOOOON?" As Lucifer stormed over to the door and out into the hallway, you lived to thank your lucky charms another day.

MAMMON

• Mammon noticed you were lucky pretty quickly, but it took him a while to realise just how lucky.

• He'd make jokes about how lucky you seemed to get all the time for going out at just the right time to always conveniently avoid Lucifer's wrath, but he only took it seriously when he challenged you to a game of poker and lost all of his savings, as well as the jacket and belt he was wearing at the time. He was stunned.

• Mammon might have a reputation for losing all of his money on gambling, but that doesn't mean he's bad at it. He just suffers from the same habit a lot of gambling addicts do — he can't stop. He wins and wins until he loses. So, now knowing you're even luckier than he is...

• How do you feel about being a walking lucky charm?

• He'll take you with him to casinos as "arm candy" and have you blow on his dice before he makes a move, or even just play the round in his place and split the winnings. You don't even have to know the game, just go with your gut and you'll end up winning by complete chance.

• Another thing he likes to do is walk up to random demons and make a bet such as, "do you think this human here can flip a coin that'll land on heads 10 times in a row?" It being a statistical unlikelihood, the demon will usually allow Mammon to take one of their pennies (so they know it's not a fake) and bet against it. They never bet that much grimm on it, but the shocked look on the demons' faces every time as you just keep landing on heads is completely worth it.

• Lucifer isn't happy about any of this.

• Don't worry though. Outside of making bets surrounding you and dragging you to casinos with him, he's practically your personal servant. He has to butter you up so you don't refuse next time, you know? So, he waits on hand and foot for you all day. Practically worships you.

"MC! MC, babe!" You peeked over the couch as you heard Mammon shouting your name from the hall. Just as he passed by the living room, he caught sight of you and broke into a grin, hurrying over and leaning over the back of the sofa. "There ya are! C'mere, take a look..." You shuffled closer so you could get a view of what he was holding. "...Lottery tickets?" You questioned, glancing up at him. "Yeah! I just bought 'em— will you scratch 'em out for me, baby? Please?" He begged. "I'll do anythin' ya want!"

LEVIATHAN

• Levi takes a while to find out about this ability because of how much time he spends in his room. There are very little opportunities for your luck to come into play there... except for in video games.

• The first time you demolished him in a game you told him you had never played before by pure chance, he demanded rematch after rematch until he solemnly concluded that it wasn't going anywhere. You were pretty sure he hated you for it, judging by his refusal to talk to you or message you afterwards, until he invited you back to his room again, this time to play a co-op game together.

• Predictably, he's jealous of your luck. How come you don't even have to try, and all these good things just seem to come to you naturally? It's not fair.

• He mostly gets over any petty resentment he holds after you two start to get closer, and actually really enjoys games where he can team up with you. He's pretty bad at explaining controls, but it doesn't even matter because you always end up with the luckiest possible circumstances. You contribute even when you aren't trying to.

• Thinks it's hilarious a lot of the time, too. If he's in a voice chat lobby he'll start mocking the other players for losing so badly against a total noob. He's surprisingly toxic.

• One time, Levi had to leave his room because Diavolo had arranged a student council meeting on the day where a special, limited-edition figurine of one of his favourite shows was dropping. He damn near had to be dragged away from his computer by Lucifer, and was sulking the whole meeting. Why today of all days...?

• But you just so happened to pull out your DDD and open Akuzon at the exact moment the figurine dropped. Blissfully unaware, you ordered it, thinking nothing more of it other than "Levi will probably like this".

• He was devastated when the figurine was already sold out by the time he got home, but when it showed up at the door anyway, he couldn't decide between being ecstatic and confused. Was this some kind of miracle?!

• When you explained that you had ordered it for him, he literally drops to his knees and starts thanking and praising you.

• Joins Mammon as your second personal servant.

"LOLOLOL, I thought you losers said you were good at this game!" Levi taunted into his headset, provoking the other players in the lobby to talk back, hurling all kinds of insults his and your way in response. "How much of a normie do you have to be to lose that bad against a total noob?" "Levi," you hit his shoulder. "Stop it." Levi looked at you then paused, a sly smile forming on his face as he listened to the other players yell. "They're saying I carried." You furrowed your brow. "Like hell you did! Oh, it's on."

SATAN

• Also doesn't really believe in luck, but his opinion can be changed if you allow him to experiment with it a little.

• Here's a pop quiz about various subjects in the Devildom you should, by all sound logic, know nothing about. Let's see how you perform when all you can do is guess. Huh... they're all correct. Alright then — could you crack this egg for him? Just a regular egg, and he'll see... its a triple yolk. Well... for the final test, here's a random lottery ticket. You couldn't possibly—... did you just hit a jackpot? Seriously?

• After a while of "observing" your unnatural abilities, he is eventually forced to conclude that lady luck really does exist, and she plays favourites.

• Your luck definitely comes in handy, and he will use it to his advantage, mainly to gain the upper-hand in pranking Lucifer. As long as you're around or are the one performing it, it's far more likely for their pranks to succeed. And if they get caught, the punishments are always far less severe, so they can get back to finding new ways to inconvenience Lucifer as fast as possible.

• He also likes bringing you with him to bookstores, because whenever you wander around or randomly pick out a book, it always happens to be some kind of rare edition or cursed book that is... for some reason in a public bookstore. And it's not like the curse will hurt you either. No, you're just too lucky for that.

• Sort of develops a more laid-back attitude to what you do overtime, unlike Lucifer. Satan has full faith in your luck, and doesn't tend to worry much about your safety. That isn't to say he doesn't care, more like he believes fate itself will always keep you safe.

• Also, whenever he takes you to cat cafes or areas popular with stray cats, they always surround you and jump up onto your lap. Even the feistiest of cats are calm enough to be pet by you. He loves this, and tries to take you with him every time he goes out somewhere like that.

"Pspspspsps..." "Oh, that's Paprika. She doesn't have an owner and is scared of people, so she won't—" Satan's sentence was cut short by the usually shy and aggressive kitty jumping up into your lap. She 'mrrp'ed as you pet and cooed at her, and it took you a moment to notice the utter silence from the man next to you. "Satan? What's wrong?" He blinked and gazed lovingly at you, completely starry-eyed. "...I love you."

ASMODEUS

• He knew you were lucky right off the bat. I mean, you had to be with looks like yours. You basically won the genetic lottery!

• Obviously, your abilities go far beyond just good looks. But he honestly doesn't care as much as his brothers do about all of that. He's much more focused on how you are absolutely slaying every single outfit you try on! No matter how hideous a combination is, you always make it look good... How?!

• I would say he's jealous, but that would be a lie. He's still hotter, obviously... but you're close second! Well, no, you're not that close behind, but still!

• If there's anything he is jealous of, it's your lack of bedhead. He's drawing a line, it's completely unfair for you to wake up looking perfect every morning.

• If Asmo were to ever use your luck to his advantage, it would be to score his most desired modelling shoots. Just having you near him makes scouts more likely to approach him, and having you in a picture makes it go instantly viral. You're his lucky charm for stuff like that.

• Doesn't approve of his brothers stealing you away for all kinds of shenanigans though. Mostly because it's taking your attention away from where it should be, on him. He may not take advantage of your luck as frequently as the others, but if that's what it takes to have you all to himself, he might start to!

• Designs a cute little four-leaf clover accessory for you to wear, like a bracelet or a hairclip.

"MC, honey!~" Asmo came running into your room, a big smile on his face. Before you could even speak, he latched his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug, kissing all over your face. "Thank you so much for getting me that photoshoot~ it was amazing!" Confused, you wriggled around for a bit of freedom, and he loosened his grip on you. "I didn't get you anything?" "Of course you did, sweetheart! It's all thanks to you I was lucky enough to come across an opportunity like that~ so, how about a special reward for my favourite lucky charm, hm?~"

BEELZEBUB

• Beel is unlikely to notice unless your luck is pointed out to him. Not because he's stupid or doesn't pay attention to you, but because he just doesn't think in that way. He'll notice when things seem to conveniently always go your way, but he doesn't piece all of those events together and come to the conclusion that you have absurd luck on his own.

• It's only when one of his brothers comment on it that the puzzle pieces all connect and he's like "ooooh." His only real reaction beyond that is a shrug. He frankly doesn't care that much.

• He notices that whenever he takes you out to eat, he always ends up with extra food on his plate that he didn't ask for. He notices that there always happen to be extra replacements for any ingredients he eats when he's on dinner duty, as long as you're in the house. He notices how some vendors are more willing to give him samples on-the-house when you're by his side. It's just not the main reason why he wants you around all the time.

• He loves you because of how unique you are and because of how much you've helped his family. Your luck is convenient, yes, but he doesn't go out of his way to use it for himself. The last thing he wants is for you to think he's using you.

• ...He might ask you to help him sneak food into places though.

• Beel is also unlikely to put much faith in your luck to keep you safe. He knows you've managed to evade danger in the past, but he'd much rather protect you himself so he can be sure.

• Even though he doesn't use your luck to his advantage, he'll ask a lot of questions about what you've been able to do with it in the past. He might ask you to try out a few things solely for experimental purposes, but it's usually just to see how far-reaching your luck actually is. Treats it like a superpower, which it kind of is.

• Such as: what if someone tells you to cook a meal you've never heard of without a recipe? If you just try random stuff, will you end up with a good meal anyway? You tried that one out — the answer was, somehow, yes.

You felt a rough tap on your shoulder. Turning, you were met with Beel, looking very guilty and with a bag full of snacks. "Can you hide these in your coat?" He asked. "Beel, we're at a movie theatre..." You spoke with a hushed voice, looking around warily. "We can just buy popcorn." "I know, but... just popcorn isn't enough." He looked at you with such sad eyes that you couldn't help but give in. You took the bag from him, tucking it under your arm, and he lit up. "Thank you, MC."

BELPHEGOR

• Sure, he noticed, but was pretty sure he wouldn't care about it at all. He sleeps through most days anyway, so...

• He was totally wrong, though. He remembers waking up next to you one morning, cuddled snugly into your chest and arms lazily draped over you from the night before. Groaning, he turned and looked over at his bedside clock... 12:00, it read. He blinked. Had he slept through the beginning of RAD? Without Lucifer or Beel coming to wake him? Seemed unlikely...

• It was only when he checked his DDD that he saw a few messages in the House of Lamentation group chat of Lucifer informing everyone that there had been some sort of mishap with a potion, so RAD's halls were closed off for the day, and perhaps tomorrow. How lucky, he thought. He gets to spend all day in bed with... MC.

• Anyway, he tries to sleep in your bed literally every night from then on, because whenever he does there always seems to be some kind of event that causes RAD to be cancelled or delayed.

• Lucifer bans him from doing this after realising it. He can't just have the entire school year amount to nothing because classes kept getting cancelled, after all. Belphie was not happy about this at all.

• Even when staying overnight with MC is banned, he'll still find ways to use their luck to his convenience. When he naps on them or near them, he's far less likely to be disturbed from his sleep. There's also the bonus of MC helping him and Satan get away with their pranks on Lucifer more often.

• That's what he gets for revoking Belphie's sleepover privileges.

• Your luck sometimes backfires on him, though. Whenever he tries to pull a prank on you, it always goes horribly wrong. To be fair, he probably should have predicted that outcome.

"Belphie... wake up..." You spoke softly into Belphie's ear and he twitched in his sleep. All it took was a few more gentle shakes and he finally stirred, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "Come on, it's time to get up." "What?" He huffed and rested his head back down on top of you. "RAD's cancelled... I don't need to get up..." "It—" You paused and blinked down at the avatar of Sloth. True, it was cancelled for the day, but that announcement was only made about thirty minutes ago. Belphie had been sound asleep. "—How did you know it was cancelled?" The only response you got was a smirk and a knowing look before he went right back to sleep.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date

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vicolette · 4 months ago

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Clueless Genius !

– A/N : ugh that picture of him doing Iñigo's celebration is driving me crazy!!

– Warnings : English isn’t my first language, mentions of y/n & pet names, not proofread

"Do y’all think he's dating someone?? Like that one marketing intern"

This mere comment broke the internet within just a day as many, many people (specifically culers) began to analyze every single video that the official FC Barcelona account had posted. The aspects were inspected down to a T and in just one sentence: Lamine was in love.

It didn’t take a genius to see that the teenager was trying to impress someone behind the scenes, showing off his muscles at any given opportunity or cracking a few jokes more often than not. The question only was, why it should be the new marketing intern, who had been working there for just two weeks now.

Well, that was a bit more complicated, yet it was no secret that whenever Lamine had a game, he would look at the stands and search where the staff were. During training session, his gaze would occasionally get drifted away and his attention was no longer on the ball, but on the intern – you.

And today was the day, when everybody could see what was happening behind closed doors.

'BOOM! Exploding Balloons Challenge With Lamine and Kounde!'

"Alright, are you guys ready?" The man behind the camera asked, namely Adam, who was going to film the video. While Jules was as determined to win yet relaxed as ever, Lamine had some struggles with his outfit, or rather his jersey.

"No, it looks weird." He muttered as he looked at the mirror that you were holding up, but Adam had already begun to film by accident. Before he could stop the camera from taking the scene into view, Lamine spoke up again. "Y/n, be my savior."

A sigh left from your mouth at his demand, nonetheless placing the mirror down and getting a bit too close for comfort. Kounde raised his eyebrows at the sight, taking in how nonchalant you were doing this.

In comparison, Lamine was a blushing mess with even the tip of his ears being red, a nervous smile on his face as he tried his hardest not to giggle at how observant you were. You have immediately spotted what the mistake was, whereas the other two didn’t even bat an eye.

"There you go." It was only the collar of his jersey that was somewhat worn confusingly weird (in Lamine’s style), even though nobody would look twice at it. Your eyes inspected whether or not anything else was wrong with him, firstly now noticing his awkward grin. "You good?"

"Mhm. Thanks, sweetheart." A dramatic gasp left from Adam's mouth before he excused himself, although Jules had the very same reaction – eyes wide, lips parted and his mind froze for a second.

"Oh, okay..?" Kounde looked at you up and down, taking in how you looked a bit flustered by the pet name, yet he couldn’t really blame Lamine. It was clear that he has had feelings for you now, but that you two were together, as in being a couple, was bizarre.

"You're crazy." You said after a while, stepping away from him to finally let the video be taken. Adam nodded in response, still in disbelief, yet he firstly then was reminded that he didn’t pause just yet and instantly turned of the camera.

And now, as the video was taken and the media saw the clip, since Adam had 'somehow' mysteriously forgotten to delete the scene, everyone went wild.

"Do you think it was a bad idea?" Lamine asked, his phone buzzing with notifications from his friends and teammates after it was uploaded, yet his attention was rather on your answer.

However, when instead of assuring him that it was a brilliant idea and that no one else could have come up with that, you nodded your head. His ego was already big enough for dating someone so smart and pretty and (whatever other compliment he'd give you daily) – Lamine didn’t need anymore confidence.

"Well, I think it was very important."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

– A/N : the physics exam was más or menos bien (so fluent in Spanish🤞🤞)

#lamine yamal #lamine yamal oneshot #lamine yamal x you #lamine yamal imagine #lamine yamal x reader #lamine yamal x y/n #fc barcelona #fc barca #football #footballer #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #fluff

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 6 months ago

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Bound by Affection Part 2

Emperor Geta x healer!reader x Emperor Caracalla

Warnings: Fluff, rivalry between siblings, Caracalla being sick and more himself from the movie

Authors Note: this is now based off of what we see pretty much in gladiator 2. I know the first one wasn’t the Geta and Caracalla we know, but this one is more like the Geta and Caracalla We know now

Masterlist | Previous

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The balance within the palace was fragile, each day bringing new challenges that deepened the complexity of your relationship with the two emperors. The shifts in their behavior were subtle at first, but you noticed the cracks forming beneath the surface.

Caracalla’s once-boundless energy had waned. He still sought your company, his charm as sharp as ever, but there was a heaviness in his steps, a pallor to his skin that he couldn’t hide. His free-spirited nature was giving way to moments of brooding reflection, his illness creeping into every aspect of his life.

“Don’t fuss,” he muttered one evening as you pressed a cool cloth to his fevered brow. His voice was weaker than usual, though he tried to mask it with a smirk. “You’ll spoil me, and then I’ll never let you leave.”

“You’re in no position to argue,” you replied softly, brushing damp curls from his forehead.

He sighed, his hand catching yours and holding it in place. “If you leave, the palace will turn to stone, and I’ll be the first to crumble.”

The vulnerability in his voice broke your heart, and you leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Caracalla.”

Across the palace, Geta was changing too. The carefree, charming young man who had once filled the halls with laughter now carried himself with a quiet strength. He had taken on more responsibilities, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension brewing around him.

One afternoon, as you found him in the library poring over scrolls, you couldn’t help but notice the shadows beneath his eyes.

“You’ve been working too hard,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, his hazel eyes softening at the sight of you. “Someone has to, especially now.”

“You don’t have to bear it all alone,” you reminded him.

He reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “I know. You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

---

The turning point came one fateful evening when the three of you sat in the palace gardens, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Caracalla leaned heavily against you, his energy waning despite his efforts to hide it. Geta sat across from you, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.

“I hate this,” Caracalla muttered, his frustration palpable. “Being weak. Being watched. Every moment, people waiting for me to fall.”

“No one’s waiting for you to fall,” you said, your voice gentle but firm.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, though the anger in his voice faltered as he looked at you. “Not you.”

Geta’s gaze shifted between you both, his jaw tightening. “You’re not weak, brother. You’re just human.”

Caracalla scoffed, though there was no real venom in his tone. “And you? Are you human, Geta? Or have you already ascended to perfection?”

The jab hung in the air, but Geta didn’t rise to it. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice steady. “I’m doing what I have to, for Rome and for us. I suggest you do the same.”

Caracalla’s laughter was bitter. “Spoken like a man who’s never felt the weight of mortality.”

You squeezed Caracalla’s hand, drawing his attention back to you. “You’re both carrying different burdens, but that doesn’t mean you have to face them alone. I’m here for you—for both of you.”

Geta’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension dissolved. “You’re too good to us,” he murmured.

---

As the weeks passed, Caracalla’s condition worsened, his sharp tongue and unpredictable moods becoming more pronounced. There were days when he barely left his chambers, his illness sapping him of the vitality he once wielded so freely.

Geta, meanwhile, grew more composed, his presence a calming force in the palace. He had stepped into the role of leader with a grace that belied his youth, though the strain was evident in the quiet moments he shared with you.

One evening, as you found yourself alone with Geta in the gardens, he finally let his mask slip.

“I’m losing him,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You placed a hand on his arm, your touch steadying. “He’s still here, Geta. And he needs you now more than ever.”

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough,” he confessed, his hazel eyes clouded with doubt.

“You are,” you said firmly. “I’ve seen it in the way you’ve cared for him, for Rome, for me. You’re stronger than you know.”

He pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as though you were his lifeline. “Don’t let me fall, amica mea.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your voice muffled against his chest. “I’ll hold you up, just as you’ve held me.”

---

The palace was a different place now, the once vibrant halls shrouded in a somber quiet. But amidst the challenges, the bond between you, Geta, and Caracalla grew stronger, forged in the fire of shared struggles.

Caracalla, even in his weakened state, refused to let go of his playful charm entirely. On one rare good day, he cornered you in the library, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Tell me,” he said, leaning against the table, “what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”

“You mean besides being endlessly stubborn and impossible to deal with?” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him.

“Exactly,” he said, his grin faltering as he looked at you. “You could have walked away a hundred times by now, but you stayed. Why?”

“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “Both of you.”

“And we’ll never let you regret it,” Geta said, stepping into the room and resting a hand on your shoulder. His calm presence was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery energy, but together, they balanced each other—and you.

As you stood between them, you knew that despite the challenges ahead, your bond was unbreakable.

---

The empire was shifting. Whispers of discontent stirred in the Senate halls, and the weight of leadership pressed heavily upon the two brothers. With each passing day, the strain on their relationship grew, their once-shared camaraderie fraying at the edges.

Caracalla’s illness worsened, his temper becoming as unpredictable as a storm. His moments of charm and levity were fewer, replaced by bouts of frustration and melancholy. Yet, in his rare good moods, he was still the same man who could make you laugh with a sly comment or warm your heart with a fleeting touch.

Geta, meanwhile, was transforming before your eyes. The carefree dreamer had hardened into a composed and calculating leader, his every action measured and deliberate. His affection for you remained constant, but his moments of vulnerability became rarer, hidden behind a mask of imperial duty.

---

One night, you found Caracalla in his chambers, staring out at the city. The soft glow of oil lamps illuminated his pale features, and the tremor in his hands as he gripped the windowsill did not escape your notice.

“Caracalla,” you said softly, stepping into the room.

He didn’t turn, his voice bitter as he spoke. “The city sleeps, unaware of how fragile it all is. They praise us as gods, but look at me. A god who can’t even stand without trembling.”

You approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re no less powerful because of this illness. Your strength isn’t just in your body—it’s in your spirit, your will.”

He turned then, his dark eyes searching yours. “And what happens when the will fades too? When all that’s left is a hollow shell?”

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. “Then you lean on the people who love you. You’re not alone in this, Caracalla. I won’t let you face it alone.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the vulnerable boy he once was peeked through the cracks. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured. “Too good for either of us.”

---

Geta, ever the steadying force, had thrown himself into his duties with relentless determination. He spent long hours in the Senate, navigating the treacherous waters of Roman politics with a sharp mind and unwavering resolve.

You found him late one evening, still seated at his desk, scrolls and reports spread before him. His head rested in his hand, exhaustion etched into his features.

“Geta,” you said gently, setting a cup of wine beside him. “You need to rest.”

He looked up, his hazel eyes weary but warm as they met yours. “There’s too much to do. Rome doesn’t wait.”

“Rome needs you strong, not burnt out,” you replied, taking his hand and tugging him away from the desk.

He allowed you to guide him to the couch, his resistance half-hearted. “You’re the only one who can talk sense into me, amica mea.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, earning a faint smile from him.

As he leaned back, his head resting against the cushions, you sat beside him, your fingers brushing through his curls. He closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.

“Sometimes I envy him,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost lost in the silence of the room.

“Caracalla?” you asked, surprised.

“He still has you to distract him,” Geta said, his tone tinged with sadness. “I’ve buried myself so deeply in this role that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to just be... me.”

“You haven’t lost yourself,” you assured him. “You’ve grown, yes, but the man I care about is still here, behind all the responsibility. And I’m not going anywhere, Geta. You don’t have to face this alone.”

He reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re my light in all of this. Without you, I’d be lost.”

---

The tension between the brothers reached a boiling point during a Senate meeting. Caracalla’s fiery temper clashed with Geta’s calculated calmness, their differing visions for Rome threatening to tear them apart. You intervened before their argument could escalate further, pulling them aside into a private chamber.

“This has to stop,” you said firmly, looking between them. “You’re both fighting for the same thing—a stronger Rome. You’ll never achieve that if you keep tearing each other down.”

Geta’s jaw tightened. “He refuses to see reason. His impulsiveness endangers everything we’ve worked for.”

Caracalla scoffed, his tone biting. “And your obsession with control makes you blind to anything outside your narrow vision.”

“Enough!” you snapped, startling them both. “You’re brothers. You’ve been through too much together to let this divide you.”

They fell silent, their gazes turning to you.

“I love you both,” you continued, your voice softening. “But I can’t watch you destroy each other. You’re stronger together than apart. Find a way to make this work, for Rome and for yourselves.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, and slowly, they both nodded.

---

That night, the three of you sat together in the gardens, the tension from earlier giving way to a tentative peace. Geta poured wine for all of you, his movements precise and deliberate, while Caracalla leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“We’ll find a way,” Geta said quietly, his hazel eyes meeting yours.

“We will,” Caracalla echoed, his voice laced with determination.

You smiled, hope blossoming in your chest. Despite the challenges ahead, you knew that as long as you stood together, you could face anything.

---

The palace had become a volatile place, the air thick with unspoken tension. Caracalla’s illness, far from softening him, had hardened his demeanor. The playful charm he once wielded so effortlessly had given way to a sharper edge, his words cutting and his temper volatile. He moved through the halls like a storm, demanding absolute loyalty from those around him.

You found him one evening in the atrium, pacing like a caged animal. His tunic hung loosely on his frame, a testament to his deteriorating health, but his eyes burned with a fierce intensity.

“Caracalla,” you called gently, stepping into the room.

He turned sharply, his expression unreadable. “What is it now? Come to lecture me, like Geta?”

You took a cautious step forward, your voice calm. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here because I care about you.”

His laugh was bitter, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Care? You care for a dying man who can barely command his own body, let alone an empire?”

“You’re still the same man I’ve always cared for,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes searching yours. “Then prove it. Stay by my side. When they whisper about my failures, remind them who I am.”

“Caracalla,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his arm.

He caught your hand, his grip firm. “Do you love me?”

The rawness of his question took you by surprise. “Of course I do,” you replied without hesitation.

His expression softened, if only for a moment, before the hardness returned. “Then don’t pity me. Stand with me as my equal, not as my nursemaid.”

---

Geta, on the other hand, had become a beacon of stability in the chaos. His calm, measured approach to leadership was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery unpredictability. Yet even he could not mask the strain of their growing rift.

You found him in the Senate chambers late one evening, his head bowed over a map of Rome. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face.

“Still at it?” you asked, stepping beside him.

He looked up, his hazel eyes weary. “Someone has to clean up the mess he leaves behind.”

“Geta…” you began, but he shook his head.

“I’m not blind to what’s happening,” he said quietly. “He’s slipping, and I can’t reach him. Every decision he makes pushes us further apart.”

“He’s scared,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Geta sighed, leaning into your touch. “Fear doesn’t excuse recklessness. Rome can’t survive on fear alone.”

“You’re both stronger together,” you reminded him. “Find a way to bridge this gap before it’s too late.”

He reached for your hand, his grip warm and steady. “I don’t know if it’s possible anymore. But for you, I’ll try.”

---

The fracture between the brothers reached a breaking point during a meeting with the Senate. Caracalla’s impatience boiled over, his temper erupting as he dismissed the senators’ concerns with a wave of his hand.

“Enough!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table. “I am not here to beg for your approval. I am Rome. You will follow my commands or face the consequences.”

The room fell silent, the senators exchanging uneasy glances. Geta, seated beside him, spoke calmly. “They are not your enemies, Caracalla. They are our allies, and we must treat them as such.”

Caracalla turned to his brother, his expression cold. “Allies? They are vultures, circling for scraps. Don’t mistake their flattery for loyalty.”

The tension was palpable, and you intervened before the situation could escalate further.

“Enough,” you said firmly, stepping between them. “This isn’t the time or place for this.”

Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his jaw tight. “Stay out of this.”

“I won’t,” you replied, your voice unwavering. “You’re brothers, not enemies. If you tear each other apart, Rome will fall with you.”

Geta rose from his seat, his tone measured but firm. “She’s right. We can’t afford to let our differences destroy everything we’ve built.”

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.

---

Later that evening, you found Caracalla in the baths, his expression distant as he gazed at the water’s surface. You sat beside him, the silence between you heavy.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft.

“All the time,” you admitted.

He turned to you, his vulnerability laid bare. “I don’t want to lose him, or you. But I don’t know how to stop this spiral.”

“You start by trusting us,” you said, taking his hand in yours. “We’re not your enemies, Caracalla. We’re your family.”

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve more than you think,” you replied, leaning closer.

---

Meanwhile, Geta sought solace in your presence, his moments of vulnerability growing more frequent. One evening, as you shared a quiet moment in the gardens, he spoke of his fears.

“I’ve always admired him,” Geta confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “His fire, his determination. But now, I wonder if that fire will burn us all.”

“It won’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’ll be there to temper it, just as he tempers your reserve. Together, you balance each other.”

He looked at you, his hazel eyes filled with gratitude. “And you balance us both. Without you, I don’t know where we’d be.”

---

The path ahead was uncertain, the weight of their roles as emperors pressing heavily upon them. Yet, as the three of you stood together, you knew that love—complex and imperfect as it was—would be your guiding light through the storm.

---

The shift in Caracalla’s demeanor had grown sharper, and the palace felt it. He moved with a predator’s confidence, his steps echoing through the halls as servants scrambled to avoid his gaze. Power radiated from him, but so did a sense of chaos. His illness, now a public secret, didn’t weaken him in the eyes of others—it made him all the more dangerous, as if compensating for his failing body with sheer force of will.

In stark contrast, Geta embodied a quiet stability. Where Caracalla demanded, Geta negotiated; where Caracalla ruled by fear, Geta sought respect. Yet even he was changing, his patience thinning under the weight of his brother’s antics and the empire’s demands. The only thing that kept their growing animosity from boiling over was you.

---

One evening, Caracalla summoned you to his private quarters. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the brazier in the corner. He stood by the window, gazing out at the city with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Do you know why I called for you?” he asked without turning around.

“I have an idea,” you replied, keeping your tone light.

He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Do you?”

There was an edge to his voice, a challenge in his gaze. You stepped closer, undeterred. “You’re testing me.”

He smirked, the expression both cruel and amused. “I test everyone. Why should you be any different?”

“Because I’m not just anyone,” you replied firmly.

He set the glass down, closing the distance between you in a few swift strides. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice low. “You’re the one thing in this entire empire I can’t control, and it drives me mad.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “But I don’t want to control you,” he continued. “I want you to stand beside me. To remind me that I’m not just a tyrant, even if that’s what they all see.”

“You’re more than that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Stay with me tonight. I need you.”

---

Across the palace, Geta sat alone in the gardens, the cool night air doing little to soothe the storm within him. When you found him, his expression was distant, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“Geta,” you said softly, sitting beside him.

He didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the fountain ahead. “I envy him,” he admitted after a long silence.

“Why?”

“He takes what he wants without hesitation,” Geta said, his voice laced with bitterness. “Meanwhile, I hesitate, I overthink, and I lose. Not just power, but… you.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You reached out, placing a hand over his. “You haven’t lost me.”

He turned to you then, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. “Haven’t I? Every time I see you with him, I wonder if there’s any room left for me.”

“There’s always room for you,” you said firmly, leaning closer. “You and your brother may be opposites, but you both have a place in my heart.”

His hand tightened around yours, and for the first time in days, a faint smile crossed his lips. “You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded in all of this.”

---

The tension between the brothers finally erupted during a council meeting. Caracalla’s temper flared as he dismissed one of Geta’s proposals with a wave of his hand.

“Your caution will be the death of Rome,” Caracalla sneered.

“And your recklessness will destroy it faster,” Geta shot back, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.

The senators exchanged nervous glances, clearly uncomfortable with the brewing conflict. You stood at the edge of the room, your heart pounding as the argument escalated.

“This isn’t about Rome,” Caracalla snarled, stepping closer to his brother. “This is about you wanting to prove you’re better than me.”

“I don’t need to prove anything,” Geta replied, his calm façade cracking. “Your actions speak for themselves.”

“Enough!” you interjected, stepping between them. “This is not the time or place for this.”

Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his anger momentarily replaced by something softer. “You’re defending him?”

“I’m defending both of you,” you said firmly. “You’re brothers. If you can’t find a way to work together, Rome will tear itself apart.”

Geta’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “She’s right. We need to set aside our differences.”

Caracalla hesitated, his pride warring with his affection for you. Finally, he sighed, stepping back. “For now.”

---

That night, the three of you sat together in the atrium, the tension from earlier still lingering but softened by the shared bottle of wine. Caracalla leaned back against a column, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light, while Geta sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting.

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we weren’t emperors?” Geta asked suddenly, his voice thoughtful.

“All the time,” Caracalla replied, surprising both of you. He looked at you then, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “But if I weren’t emperor, would I still have you?”

“You’d have me no matter what,” you said, your voice filled with conviction.

“And me?” Geta asked quietly.

You turned to him, taking his hand in yours. “Always.”

Caracalla smirked, though there was no malice in it. “She’s too good for us, Geta.”

“Maybe,” Geta replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As the night wore on, the three of you sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the empire momentarily forgotten. For now, you were just three souls bound by love, trying to navigate a world that demanded too much of all of you.

Hope you enjoyed it! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜

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blank-potato · 5 months ago

Text

Good Girls Go Bad

Pairing: Lucien Belmont x Reader

Summary:

“Well, well,” he drawls, smirking. He’s half-naked and wearing a cowboy hat and it sends your mind into overdrive. All you wanted to do was go to college, work hard and get your degree. Not get dragged into the sexcapades of a rich, entitled frat boy.“To what do I owe the honour?”“I need you to stop.”Lucien tilts his head, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “Stop…?”He acts coy like he doesn’t know exactly what you mean. Like he isn’t the reason you’ve lost many nights of precious sleep.“Having sex with my roommate,” you spit out as you enter his room and close the door behind you. Or Lucien keeps sleeping with your roommate and ruining your sleep, leading to him always being on your mind. Eventually, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content, oral sex, p in v sex, sex dreams, Lucien being a little shit

WC: 4.1k

A/N: I’m obsessed with Lucien and will write about him and Cruel Intentions (2024). Also there's just a lack of fanfiction about him and I was desperate. The title is from the Cobra Starship & Leighton Meester song because I started writing this while listening to it. Anyways enjoy!

♡♡♡

You can never seem to sleep.

Every night there’s some new reason normally caused by your roommate, Olivia.

Whether it’s stumbling into your room drunk, leaving your shared bathroom in an absolute mess or setting the curtains on fire with her essential oil candles. Sleep often evaded you because of her.

On one ill-fated night, it was no different. You walk in and drop your bag on the floor in exhaustion after the extremely long day you had only to be met with a sight that you wouldn’t soon forget.

Olivia and some guy were wrapped up in each other, making out in your common space. You had separate rooms for a reason, but she just had to do this here, in a place you shared.

You sighed, standing frozen in the doorway, contemplating whether to just turn around and leave. But you were stuck as you watched Olivia’s fingers tangling in his hair as they melt into eachother. Just then your breath catches in your throat as a you watch him smirk against her lips.

He was looking right at you.

His continue to roam but his gaze never wavers from yours. He was holding you and your attention captive. Heat prickles down your spine, a strange mix of unease and something far more dangerous settling in your stomach. You should look away. You should move.

But you don’t.

A silent challenge lingers in his stare, daring you to stay, to watch. And then, with deliberate slowness, he whispers something against her lips that makes her giggle. You don’t hear it but it’s like he’s saying it right to you.

He pulls back and puts Olivia onto her back, “Seems we have an audience.”

“Oh shit, I thought you were going to be out for a while,” Olivia says sitting up in embarrassment.

“I wish you would’ve warned me,” you let out breathlessly. Your college experience so far had been devoid of stuff like this and you liked it that way.

“It won’t happen again, I swear,” she starts to say but her excuses and apologies seem to fade away as you feel very aware of his gaze like he was devouring you with his eyes.

Picking up his jacket he heads towards the door and you catch the scent of his cologne as he brushes past you.

“See you around, Olivia,” he says before nodding his head at you and disappearing out your door. You thought that would be the end of it and you would never have to see him again.

Unfortunately, life had other plans.

From that day, it felt like you were seeing him everywhere. This guy who you had never seen before was now in every aspect of your life. In the library, he’s flirting with a pretty brunette over an open textbook, his lazy grin making her giggle. On the quad, he’s lounging under a tree, effortlessly charming a group of wide-eyed freshmen. In your Poli-sci class, he’s flirting with the TA as she tries (and fails) not to smile. It’s like you were involuntarily playing Where’s Wally but Wally has a curly mullet and is trying to fuck everyone on campus. The common theme doesn’t elude you. It wasn’t long before you knew his name, Lucien Belmont. He was a player with a reputation and that made you want to avoid him that much more.

♡♡♡

It’s late when you return home after yet another long day. You decide to spend your evening sitting at your desk, arranging your highlighters and setting up your lecture slides on your laptop. You have a group presentation in the morning and a research paper due next week, and you’re determined not to let it sneak up on you again.

As you are about to begin your study session you hear a loud crash from outside your bedroom door. It’s followed by the shuffle of shoes and rustling of clothes. You freeze, ears straining as you to figure out what you were hearing. Then, the unmistakable sound of hushed laughter reaches you and your stomach sinks. So much for ‘It’ll never happen again.’

Before you could fully get your head around what the hell was going on you heard Olivia scream, “Lucien!”

Of course.

Since your little encounter, Lucien had been frequenting your dorm, hooking up with your roommate nonstop. His hands were probably everywhere, exploring her body like you saw when you first caught them. Their bodies move together, getting tangled in one another. You could see it now, the way his fingers must have skimmed over her skin, the way his lips traced over her throat.

Your grip tightens around your pen.

You should be used to it by now. You shouldn’t care. And yet, no matter how hard you try to block it out, your mind keeps drifting… keeps picturing things you shouldn’t.

Shaking yourself from the daze, you reach for your headphones, determined to drown out the noise with your perfectly curated study playlist. You shove them over your ears, press play, and try to focus on your slides.

But a few moments later, a new sound cuts through the music—a rhythmic thumping. Were they…fucking against your door?

♡♡♡

You storm over to Alpha Gamma first thing in the morning. No longer could you fall asleep to the sound of muffled moans and breathy gasps filtering through your walls? The name Lucien spills from your roommate’s lips like a prayer or a strangely erotic lullaby. This situation was worse than any nightmare.

You enter the frat house and look around apprehensively. It’s… exactly what you expected. Not completely disgusting, but the aftermath of last night’s party lingers. There were red solo cups abandoned on tables, the faint smell of cheap beer and cologne clinging to the air.

You make your way through the house, weaving past a couple of hungover guys slouched on the couch. Spotting one who looks somewhat coherent, you walk up and ask, “Hey, do you know where Lucien Belmont is?”

He jerks a thumb toward the staircase. Upstairs.

You don’t hesitate. You storm up to his door and knock firmly. It isn’t long before the door swings open and a girl steps out, her hair is a mess, but the satisfied smirk on her lips tells you everything you need to know.

She doesn’t even glance at you as she adjusts her skirt and struts past, and you wonder, how does he even find the time?

Lucien himself walks up to you and leans against the doorframe, shirtless, sleepy-eyed, and entirely unbothered.

“To what do I owe the honour?”

“I need you to stop.”

Lucien tilts his head, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “Stop…?”

He acts coy like he doesn’t know exactly what you mean. Like he isn’t the reason you’ve lost many nights of precious sleep.

“Having sex with my roommate,” you spit out as you enter his room and close the door behind you. The air inside feels different and unbearably charged. You have the strange urge to pace, to move, but before you can, he takes a slow step forward.

His smirk deepens as he leans into your personal space “And why’s that?”

The sound of his voice so close to you affects you in the worst way possible. The heat nestling at the base of your spine, the way your breath catches. He has you exactly where he wants you and you hate it, you hate how he’s making you feel angry and weightless at the same time. His gaze flickers down, watching the way your fingers twitch at your sides.

“I can’t sleep…” You say with half your mind elsewhere as your eyes fall on his lips, his beautiful, beautiful lips. Pulling yourself from your mild stupor you focus on the task at hand. He’s been making your life a living hell!

“And…and you guys had sex against my door last night and that’s fucked up!”

“Jealous?”

Your eyes widen. The gall. The audacity.

“Unbelievable,” is all you can manage to say, not trusting yourself to say anymore without imploding. You exhale sharply refusing to play his games. You came here to tell him how it is and he was going to listen. “Just stop or at least stop doing it in my dorm.”

He hums in thought before tilting his head. “What do I get in exchange?”

“Nothing.”

He grins. “Then why would I stop?”

You purse your lips, trying to keep your temper in check. “Because… I asked nicely?”

Lucien raises a brow, mockingly sceptical. “You call that nice?”

You open your mouth but shut it again. You weren’t here to argue (necessarily).

“Unless you can offer me something in exchange there’s nothing I can do for you.” Then, with a slow, deliberate smirk, he adds, “Now, you should probably go. Unless… you want to join me in the shower. I don’t mind.”

♡♡♡

The next morning, you hear a knock on the door. You leave your room and open it, only to find Lucien leaning against the doorframe, looking far too comfortable for someone who shouldn’t be here.

“Olivia’s out and I thought I told you to stop—”

“I’m not here to see her.”

His voice is lower than usual, his eyes darker with a quiet intensity that sends your heart slamming against your ribs.

Before you can react, he steps forward, backing you against the wall. The air shifts between you, thick and electric. Then his lips find your neck. His kisses were hot and urgent as he decorated your skin in beautiful marks. A whimper escapes your lips as his hand slides up, fingers wrapping gently around your throat. Just enough to make you to keep you in the moment, to make you aware of how he’s ruining you. Then, he tilts your chin up and captures your lips, stealing your breath away. It was no use resisting so you finally give in, your hands fisting his shirt, pulling him back in. Lucien chuckles against your lips, the sound smug and knowing.

“There she is.”

Your entire morning was a disaster. Your routine? Ruined. Your lectures? A blur of missed notes and wandering thoughts. And now lunch would be ruined too because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the idea of him.

You were eating with your friend—someone you met at orientation. Maybe if she had been your roommate instead, all of this would’ve been avoided. No Lucien. No Olivia sneaking him in and out of your dorm. No dreams you wanted to scrub from your memory.

You sigh, poking at your food with disinterest before glancing out onto the quad.

Your gaze drifts, almost against your will, and you wonder what would it be like if he were with you at that moment. If he were to walk up to you, lean down and take—

“Hello? Where’d you go?”

You awaken from your daydream as you look at your friend who’s staring back at you in suspicion. She can tell something’s up, she always can.

“I’ve just been… distracted.”

Your friend’s eyes narrow with immediate suspicion. “Who is he?”

“There’s no guy.”

“Don’t lie, I know that look too well.” She leans in, practically vibrating with curiosity. “Who is he?”

She was far too excited, fully revelling in your misery and you hated it.

You sigh, rubbing your temples before finally admitting, “Do you know… Lucien Belmont?”

Her expression immediately drops.

“Oh no.”

You groan. “Yeah.”

“Did you guys—?”

“Hell no!” you say quickly. “But he’s been sleeping with my roommate, and it’s been driving me crazy, and I can’t sleep because of it, and—and they even did it against my door, and now I’ve been dreaming about him, and I can’t stop!”

The words spit out of her mouth like a verbal volcano.

She just stares at you for a moment, processing. Then she takes in a slow, deep breath, tilting her head as she thinks.

You sit up straighter, awaiting her wisdom. You would do anything to stop this madness. Whatever she suggests, you will do it. You would climb the highest mountain you can find, become a social recluse, train like a monk for the rest of your life, you would even—!

“Fuck him.”

That was not where you thought she was going.

“Sorry?”

“You need to have sex with him to get him out of your mind.”

“No no no, I need to eradicate him from my mind by avoiding him at all costs not…the devil’s tango.”

“Trust me, they rarely live up to the expectation in your head. You’re only dreaming of him because of the fantasy of it. Sleeping with him will break the illusion and you’ll move on. Trust me, when have I ever steered you wrong?”

♡♡♡

You go back to your routine but your days have become a blur. You shifted from trying to avoid him to actively trying to get him in your bed. Your sleepless nights continue to haunt you, exhaustion dragging at your limbs as you sit in your Poli-sci class. And, of course, Lucien is right next to you, of all the seats in the lecture hall he had to sit right next to you. His very presence has you on edge, like a live wire buzzing beneath your skin, impossible to ignore. As you (attempt) to listen to your lecturer, your eyes get heavier and heavier and your blinks get longer and longer until…

You feel it, his hand on your thigh pulling you from your dazed state.

You stiffen. “Hey, what are you—?”

Before you can finish, he moves. Smooth, deliberate. He pulls you in, his lips crashing against yours, and you swear the world tilts on its axis. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before and every hair on your body stands on end.

Your breath catches as his lips trail down, pressing against the curve of your neck. Your mind fights to focus on class, on the professor’s voice, on anything but then, in a flash, Lucien grips your hips and pulls you onto his lap. A quiet gasp escapes you.

“We’re in public, you degenerate. We need to…”

His hands roam, slow, deliberate strokes up and down your thighs, and you swear your body betrays you with every touch. You try to focus, try to keep some self-control, but the heat of his palm gripping onto your butt through your jeans, made it an impossible task.

“We need to…” you start again, but the words die in your throat.

“Can’t finish your sentence?” he remarks as he starts to undo the buttons of your shirt. He laughs before he starts kissing between your breasts looking up at you all the while.

“Lucien, we—”

You wake up to the sharp poke of a pencil against your arm.

“Good dream?”

“Huh?”

Blinking, you jolt upright, rubbing your eyes. The lecture hall is almost empty and students are filing out, chatting, and some stuffing laptops into bags. The professor is already gone. You missed the entire thing.

Lucien is still beside you, chin propped on his hand, watching you with a smirk that is far too pleased. “Oh, by the way,” he drawls, “you were said my name in your sleep.” He leans in slightly, voice lowering. “Was I that good, or…?”

Your face burns. “Shut up,” you hiss, grabbing your bag and packing away your textbooks haphazardly.

“I just find it amusing that I’ve got you in such a state and I haven’t even touched you… yet.”

“I’m not in a state…”

“You were moaning my name,” and your face heats up as you wonder if anyone else heard but Lucien interrupts your train of thought, “Don’t worry, you were quiet and it was very cute.”

It takes everything in you not to punch him and yourself in that moment.

♡♡♡

You try to focus. You really do. Sitting at your desk, books open, highlighters lined up like usual, you attempt to study but it’s pointless. There is no possibility of that now. Not while a certain curly-haired frat boy was running through your mind.

You are completely overrun with him. His stupid smirk, his pretty chocolate eyes. He looks like an angel, but you know better. At least, you thought you did.

Perhaps your friend was right.

You needed to take matters into your own hands. You’re already standing outside Alpha Gamma before you fully process what you’re doing. Most of the frat is at a Delta Phi party, meaning the house is eerily quiet. You hesitate, shifting on your feet, and lift a hand to knock.

Seconds tick by.

Nothing.

You exhale, feeling ridiculous, beginning to turn away. This was a stupid idea.

But then, just as you step back, the door swings open.

Lucien stands there, his hair slightly damp, a towel slung low around his hips. His smirk is lazy, almost as if he knew you’d be there. He takes his time, his eyes flickering over you.

“Took you long enough.”

“I have something to exchange for you to stop sleeping with Olivia.”

“Lay it on me.”

You drop your coat to reveal lingerie. It was delicate and lacy and definitely something that felt like it belonged to a version of you. One that doesn’t overthink every decision. This was so far outside of your comfort zone, but the ache, the longing that had been building inside you for weeks had finally won.

Lucien’s eyes darken as he leans against the doorframe, gaze sweeping over you in slow appreciation. “What changed your mind?”

You swallow, your pulse thrumming in your throat. “The dreams…” You meet his eyes, voice barely above a whisper. “They’re not enough.”

You blink and his lips are on yours. It’s soft and gentle, surprisingly so.

You had always imagined he’d be impatient, all teeth and hunger, but this… this is different. He’s taking his time, unravelling you slowly, savouring the way your body melts into his.

His arms tighten around you, pulling you deeper into his embrace. He tugs your head back to have full access to his canvas, your throat. A sharp gasp escapes you as his lips trail down, pressing heated kisses like fire along your skin. He takes his time as he marks you with slow drags of his teeth nipping at your skin, his tongue soothing the sting after. Like flowers in bloom, the evidence of his touch blossoms across your skin. When he finally pulls back, he admires his masterpiece.

“What a pretty sight, you’re all marked up for me.”

He picks you up effortlessly, a yelp escaping your lips before he tosses you onto his bed. The mattress dips beneath you, and before you can catch your breath, he’s on top of you. His eyes search yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t hesitate to dive back in, playing with you like you’re sure he’s done with others many times before. His lips trail lower, slow and teasing, pressing against your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Every touch, every kiss, sends heat pooling deep in your stomach, winding tight like a coil ready to snap.

“Doing such a good job for me…” he says with his sweet voice and you feel yourself falling deeper into his trap.

And he continues until he reaches between your legs. Your thighs tremble once he begins his ministrations but he holds them tight, keeping you from squirming too much.

As he picks up the pace, your eyes roll back, your back arching off the bed.

Your toes curl as a string of desperate moans leaveyour body. You desperately need something to hold onto, something to tether yourself to this moment. Your hand reaches out toward his head, which is bobbing up and down but you hesitate and stop yourself.

But as if he has eyes in the back of his head, his hand finds yours and he guides it to his hair, letting you get a firm grip on it.

As you pull him deeper, as if instinct alone is guiding you, his hands tighten on your thighs, grounding you even as you feel yourself slipping. Every movement, every teasing flick of his tongue, every slow, deliberate stroke of his fingers against your skin. It was as if his only goal was to drive you crazy.

"Look at you," he murmurs against your skin, voice thick with amusement and something darker. "Taking me so well."

You feel like it should be illegal for him to say such nice things. It’s like your brain short-circuits the moment you hear his voice and you would do anything to keep him talking like that. He goes back to eating you out and the pleasure he’s giving you pulses through your whole body. He has you in a mess as you stutter out moans and cries and they only continue to get louder as he toys with your clit. You make eye contact, and the innocent look in his eyes is nothing short of deceptive. You had never seen such a juxtaposition.

Gripping your thighs, he moves faster, eating you out like you were his oasis in a desert and your body goes into auto-pilot. Just as you feel yourself nearing your orgasm he pulls away leaving you hanging on the edge. He wasn’t just living up to your expectations he was exceeding them. Not giving you too much of a respite he hooks his arms underneath your knees and drags you to him beginning to move his hips against yours.

As he grinds himself between your thighs he says, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nod eagerly but that’s not good enough for him, you know he’s a cocky son of a bitch, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m gonna be a good girl for you,” you mutter, your eyes set on the ceiling.

Taking your chin and angling it down towards him he says, “Like you mean it.”

“I’m…I’m gonna be a good girl for you. I promise…”

Seemingly as a reward, he positions himself at your entrance and slowly pushes himself in and you let out a desperate whine. Before you know it, he’s picking up the pace, his movements becoming more intense. Your fingers dig into his back, nails scraping against his skin as you continue to lose yourself to this ecstasy.

The sound of his hips smacking against yours echoes through the room, each movement pronounced even more by your choked moans and the breathless curses that spill from his lips. Your body arches beneath him. You’re glad more people aren’t in the house, you didn’t need a whole frat house hearing you getting fucked out of your mind.

“Am I better than her?” You say breathlessly in the heat of the moment, wanting or maybe needing to hear him admit it.

“So much better than Olivia…” Lucien’s voice is a low murmur against your skin, dripping with satisfaction. He slows down, prolonging your pleasure, teasing you with deliberate, torturous movements that leave you gasping. Every brush of his fingers, every roll of his hips, is meant to drive you closer and closer only to pull back just before you get there. Of course, in all areas of life, he is a tease.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as he suddenly flips you over, switching your positions with effortless ease. Now, you’re straddling his hips, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you up and down as he simultaneously grinds up into you. The heat, the tension, it isn’t long before you unravel around him.

“Lucien!” You cry out, your head tilting back as you reach your climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you. Lucien is not too far behind as he finishes as you ride out your orgasm. Pulling out of you he crashes next to you, the first thing out of his mouth being, “Your little praise kink is adorable.”

His voice is dripping with smug satisfaction, and it only makes your face heat even more. You huff and smack his chest, though it does absolutely nothing to wipe that insufferable smirk off his face. "Shut up."

Lucien chuckles, catching your wrist with ease, his fingers curling around it as he lays a kiss on your pulse point. “Bad girl.”

Masterlist

#lucien belmont #cruel intentions 2024 #lucien belmont x reader #smut #x reader #cruel intentions #cruel intentions tv #female reader #cross posted on ao3 #zac burgess #cruel intentions fanfic

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helslastangel · 10 months ago

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Mars in 1H & 7H Synastry: From My Experiences 🔞

Minors, do not interact. This one's not for you.

I know this is widely known with 1H Mars synastry, but it bears repeating: this is such an electric and sexy aspect to have!

...IF you like each other. But if you don't?

Especially if the attraction is one-sided? It is SO cringe. One of you could end up hating the other easily.

In fact, let me tell you two stories that show just how differently things can go with this aspect.

Positive 1H Mars Synastry

Guy A: Leo Sun, Virgo Moon, Cancer Rising & Venus

I have my Mars in his 1H and his Venus is in my 1H.

This a VERY physical aspect, so if you're the type who loves long hugs, hugs from behind, poking, nibbling, cuddling, kissing and a LOT of sex, even after YEARS together, then keep an eye out for this aspect.

Guy A was my boyfriend of 4 years and we broke up right around the time we would have been talking engagement and such. He was also my best friend for 8 years (which would be 15 years now if we hadn't stopped talking a year after the break up).

I was wildly attracted to this guy from day one. And vice versa! And when we finally got together? Literally could not stop touching each other. It was so funny at times. You know those annoying couples trying to hold hands, steer the cart, and pick stuff up all at once in the grocery store? Yeah, we were that couple. Typically, if I wasn't literally on his lap, I'd be under his arm or pretty much pressed up beside him somehow-and vice versa. Watching TV? Someone's head would be in the other's lap, someone's hands would be in the other's hair, or rubbing their arm or belly.

I remember the first time Guy A and I went on a cute lunch date, before we officially got together. Everyone was pointing and giggling at us because it was sooooo obvious we both couldn't keep our hands off each other at all. 😂

To this day, neither his parents nor mine can believe we didn't get married. We probably should have, tbh. Lol.

Negative 1H Mars Synastry:

Guy B: Gemini Sun, Cancer Moon & Rising, Aries Venus.

I also have my Mars in his 1H. (His moon is in my 1H).

Mars in 1st synastry in one-sided connections is the absolute worst because one of you is madly (VERY madly) in lust confused for love, and the other is perpetually annoyed but attached to the adrenaline rush from all the static, especially if life isn't otherwise exciting at the time.

Guy B was long-term frenemy who I did NOT like romantically and barely liked platonically. We met on a dating site and the conversation was great but from the 1st date in person, I was instantly turned off. All his mannerisms annoyed me, I wasn't attracted to him, and I didn't want him to touch me at all. My reflex was to pull away when he tried. He was extremely attracted to me for some reason despite this, and never let it go. Not even years later. He begged to stay friends when I declined a 2nd date and I was too nice back then so I reluctantly agreed.

Every time he touched me, I wanted to backflip into a volcano. A simple hug made me irrationally angry if he tried to linger half a second too long. It didn't help that he'd always complain about me giving "church hugs."

And before the men start carrying on about how he must have been short, yada yada yada... no, lol he's 6' 5" and fairly good-looking. Just didn't like him then and still don't now.

Our dynamic was always very aggressive, especially from my end. Even our mutual friends noticed that I seemed like a different person specifically around him and not in a good way. I was verbally combative and physically tense around him, even my voice sounded less soft and I was extremely sarcastic. I don't know if he's into girls who are normally like that or if his Aries Venus just liked the challenge, but that annoyed me even more. My dad met him once and immediately acted like he wasn't even there and my mom was like "Yeah, no, don't ever date each other because one of you won't make it out of that alive, it's very obvious."

She's definitely not wrong, our entire "friendship" was a strange anomaly defined around me being perpetually annoyed that he existed but also finding entertainment in all the toxicity and him pretending not to notice that Id happily sell him to the devil for a bag of chips and continuously convincing himself that I secretly liked him.

I told him multiple times he was free to react like a normal human being and not talk to me and his response was, "Eh, I know but somehow even though I hate arguing, I don't really mind arguing with you. Like I hate it but at the same time, it's you. I'm used to it now."

Idk to say about that but yeah, there you have it folks. The moral of the story is: there are always two sides to a coin 😂

Synastry is something that can go two (if not more) ways. No placement or aspect is ever guaranteed to be positive or negative, though some skew one way or the other. If they were, we could all find our perfect matches just by picking birth charts out of a jar and studying them. Be mindful and listen to what your heart and gut tell you and then use your head.

All that being said though, can I talk about 7H Mars synastry for a sec? GOSH I LOVE when someone's Mars is in my 7H.

Mars in 7H Synastry (Positive)

Guy C: Aries Sun, Scorpio Moon, Scorpio Rising, Aries Venus

He has Capricorn Mars in my 7H and my gawd. So intentional. This was eons ago. Technically my second boyfriend, but this was the first serious boyfriend who I had all my first times with. The moment my very own McSteamy decided he wanted to date me, there was no long drawn out "should I, shouldn't I, she loves me, she loves me not" - none of that wishy-washy shit. He strolled right up to me and said, "Look, you're allowed to say yes, no, or "get lost, fool" -whatever you want. And I know this may seem a bit soon, and to be honest when I first met you, I didn't know what to think, you kinda seemed like a miss-goody-two-shoes type. But getting to know you for a couple months? I realize you're actually quite a rebel and adventurous like me, but also smart and know how to lay low and play a character when you need to. Anyway, I'd really like to kiss you, but I'm gonna ask you to be my girlfriend first, so let me know."

Well, hell I said yes before he was even done talking and he picked me right up and kissed me against the wall. That was my first kiss too, and a great memory. I love direct people who know what they want, aren't scared to take a risk and are comfortable taking the lead, especially when it's a relationship. That's a Capricorn Mars right there. With Capricorn moon in my 7H that was literally like hitting the jackpot- except I was so young. He was 8 years older than me and ready to settle down. I was just about to fly the nest and see the world and he was kind enough to realize this and not hold me back when I decided to leave.

I will say this placement is excellent if you're sure about wanting a family, kids, and the whole white picket fence thing. I made the right choice as I'm still childfree by choice now and would rather live a semi-nomadic life, working and traveling the world with someone who is the same kind of crazy as me.

I'm not sure if I've experienced any negative Mars 7H house synastry. There are so people I've connected with whose birthdays I've either forgotten or didn't ask for, so I don't have their charts. Of the charts I do have, Guy C is the only one I have this aspect with. I haven't quite felt the same 100% confident, 'all-in' relationship energy from anyone else.

I am curious about how the negative side of this would go, so if any of you have had bad experiences with Mars 7H synastry and want to share, let's meet in the comments 😹

↤ go back to the masterlist

#astrology observations #relationship astrology #synastry observations #astro notes #astrology #astrology signs #astrology blog #astro observations #astrology tumblr #astro posts

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divinesangel · 1 year ago

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— 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

pm me for a personal reading!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

my dearest,

as i write this letter to you, my heart is filled with excitement and anticipation for the life we will share together. every word i write comes from a place of genuine affection and admiration. there's nothing i would love more than to shower you with my affection in love, the love that i've been saving to myself for many years now. i've been waiting for you for such a long time and i still am. i can't wait for the day that we get to do endless things together, visit, many places, and do many things together. you inspire me to grow and to expand myself in ways i haven't been able to before. i'm quite eager to see our future together unfolding in abundance and prosperity. i'm pretty sure we will build a life filled with stability, harmony, and security, which is more than i could ever ask for. i will protect our connection and our home will be like a sanctuary, a place where love and joy will be present, and where we will be able to create our own family.

you need to know that i will always stick by you through thick and thin, to support you in anything that you need, in your endeavors and your dreams, and to always work to make our connection happen and for our future family to thrive. i'm pretty sure that we will be able to any storm that comes our way. although sometimes i'd rather keep the bad news to myself so you don't have to experience any negativity, i promise to always communicate with you and show you my commitment to honesty and transparency, even when the truth may be difficult to face.

i will always cherish you and take care of you. my love for you knows no bounds, and i am thankful for every moment we share. your happiness is my greatest priority, and i will do everything in my power to ensure that you feel loved, cherished, and appreciated each and every day. with you as my partner, i know that anything is possible.

until we meet again, know that you hold my heart in your hands, now and forever.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

my love,

my heart overflows with warmth and anticipation for the journey that lies ahead of us. it's as if fate itself has brought us together and knew that we were always meant to be together. even if we haven't met yet, i just know that our connection will be instant as i feel the sparks even now. it's all gonna be magical, reminding me that our story is guided by something greater than ourselves. i'm impatient for the day we will get to experience that. my soul fell for you the moment it entered my body.

every time i think of you, my mind drifts back to the innocence and purity of childhood, like the sweet nostalgia. you remind me of something sweet, although distant. it's probably due to our souls knowing each other for lifetimes, finding solace and comfort in the familiarity of our bond.

my greatest desire is to see you happy, to witness the glow of joy radiating from your being and being there by your side to see you overflow with happiness; being there for you every time you need me. i know you'll be there for me as well, and it such a comfort for my heart. hand in hand, we can make anything possible.

with all my love, your future spouse

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

my most precious,

i find myself grappling with the complexities of life, feeling torn between the various paths laid out before me. there are moments when i question whether i am truly ready for what lies ahead, whether i possess the strength and clarity to navigate the challenges that await. the truth is, my love, there are aspects of my life that i am still coming to terms with, aspects that fill me with uncertainty and doubt. i am confronted with decisions that demand my attention, choices that require me to confront my deepest fears and desires.

but then, amidst the chaos of my mind, there is you. with you, my love, everything changes. in your presence, i find a sense of peace and clarity that i have never known before. it's as if the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders, and suddenly, everything feels possible. you have this remarkable way of making me feel like everything will be alright. your unwavering faith in me, your boundless love and support—it fills me with a sense of courage and conviction that i never knew i possessed.

there are many things i'd like to talk to you about that have to do with how i've been feeling. things that i've never dared to tell anyone else out of fear they might not get it as well as you will. i've experienced dark times in the past that i'm trying to come into terms with, and i will tell you all about it.

it's as if you are my guiding light, leading me through the darkness and showing me the way forward. yes, there may still be moments of doubt and uncertainty, but with you, my love, i know that i am not alone. with you, i feel as though i can face whatever the future may hold with courage and grace.

yours always, x

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 ($5.43) so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

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vgfm · 26 days ago

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An Amateur Theorist's Analysis of Deltarune Chapters 3 and 4

Hey Every ! With the release of Deltarune chapters 3 and 4, I figured I’d weigh in with my thoughts and pick up the pieces of my old theories. I’m not as big into making theories myself these days due to the time investment and the advent of the Youtube theory scene kicking things into high gear. Honestly, it’s become hard for me to keep up.

Still, for old time’s sake I figured I’d tie off a few loose ends and maybe plant some seeds for the future if I ever decide to return to theory writing. This post will be far less formal than my previous outings. I didn’t take the time to gather screenshots or anything, which was often the most time-consuming aspect of my old theories (even with helpful community resources), so I hope you won’t mind this text-based analysis.

(spoilers for Deltarune chapters 3 and 4, including secret bosses and the weird route)

Overall Impressions

Chapters 3 and 4 are different from what came before. Very different. I was entranced during my initial playthrough, marathoning both chapters in a single day. I wasn’t exactly sure what to think at first, but I can say that my enjoyment of these chapters has only grown during subsequent playthroughs

Pretty much every theory that tried to predict the outcome of the game or that relied on some kind of pattern or formula ended up being proven hilariously wrong. I’m happy with this outcome, as I was never a huge fan of most theories like that and it makes each of these new chapters feel more unique

Many have said this, but it’s obvious that the budget and scope of these chapters has only increased with time. Chapters 3 and 4 are yet another step up in production quality that we’ve seen in the transition from Undertale to Chapter 1 to Chapter 2.

Chapters 3 and 4 feel noticeably harder than chapters 1 and 2, to the point where I had to switch from keyboard to controller just to keep up with the harder fights. I’m largely ok with this, since 1 and 2 did feel a bit too easy at times.

I’m not sure if I can rank the chapters because each one brings something unique to the table.

Chapter 1 has the most unforgettable first impression, though like many I’ll at least say that it is the weakest of the four chapters (especially if you didn’t play it blind at launch).

Chapter 2 is the funniest chapter and feels the most “packed” with content—it’s the most well-rounded and it might still be my favorite but I’m not sure.

Chapter 3 is my current favorite from a pure gameplay perspective—I love the variety, the challenge, the numerous secrets, and the replay value in shooting for a better score and optimizing one’s playthrough.

Chapter 4 has the strongest narrative, characterization, and emotional beats, as well as my favorite character, secret boss, and final boss

The Knight

Before the release, I had reconsidered some of my arguments against Kris Knight to the point where Alvin Knight and Kris Knight were nearly 50/50 as my prediction, with a slight edge to Alvin.

Despite being proven wrong on both counts, I’m more than happy with how things turned out. In the past I dismissed Dess Knight, not out of dislike for the theory, but merely because I didn’t think it was possible. I suppose there’s a slight chance the Knight could be Carol, who was a distant third for me before release, but I’m 90% sure it’s Dess.

In hindsight it’s funny how chapters 3 and 4 disprove many of the counter-arguments against Kris Knight, only to end up disproving Kris Knight anyway. It seems like Kris might be working with the Knight (more on that later), and I honestly think that’s a more fitting role for them than having them be the direct antagonist.

I’m also fine with Alvin Knight being wrong because we got more Gerson focus than I could have ever dreamed of. One of my reasons for latching onto Alvin Knight was that I was a Gerson fan (before it was cool), and in many ways I thought of Alvin Knight as a means to see Gerson again. In the end Alvin just ended up being a middleman, and I’d rather have a story with Gerson and no Alvin Knight than one with Alvin Knight and no Gerson.

As a side note, I do find it funny that chapter 4 seemingly confirms that closets that can fit a large person inside are actually relevant to dark fountain locations in some way, given the flavor text for the church’s closet door at the end of chapter 4. I was always suspicious of the library closet door and felt that some theorists were way too quick to dismiss it.

Overall, I’m just happy that we have some answers for the Knight’s identity now, even if there’s some wiggle room to speculate. The worst-case scenario would have been if no one had been confirmed or deconfirmed and the same old Knight discourse continued for the next year.

Then Who was Phone?

A smaller and less clear mystery is the question of who Kris is talking to on the phone during Chapter 4

At first it seems like they’re talking to Carol for sure, but the weird route throws a small wrench into this

To wit, at Noelle’s house the voice says “I’ll be right there” and Carol shows up shortly after. Seems cut and dry until you play the weird route, where Carol shows up anyway despite Kris (seemingly) not using their phone. The “I’ll be right there” line could have instead been referring to the Knight going straight to the church for the next dark world, which the phone voice discussed earlier.

Additionally, at the end of the weird route we hear Carol call Kris without the weird shadowy text box and ellipses that the mysterious voice uses. Depending on how one interprets this, it could either be proof that Carol is the voice or proof that Carol is not the voice

I’m 90/10 on the Knight being Dess instead of Carol, but for the phone voice it’s closer to 50/50 for me. It doesn’t help that Carol is seemingly being set up as a red herring for Dess as the Knight, so it’s possible this is also true of the voice on the phone

The Third Code

Another mystery set up is who holds the codes to access the shelter at the bottom of town. The three symbols are a pine tree, a police badge, and the deltarune.

It seems pretty certain that Carol and Undyne are the first two code holders, given the comments from Alphys and Napstablook. There’s perhaps a chance that Dess is the pine tree instead since her guitar held a code, but I feel like that’s either a result of Carol hiding it there or Dess discovering it through her own snooping, given the Spamton Sweepstakes implying that she was a bit of a sleuth when it came to cryptids and other mysteries

That just leaves the third code. Susie speculates that it may belong to someone who’s religious and friends with the police and the mayor. An obvious candidate for this would be Asgore, but it would raise of the question of why he was removed from the force or not simply given the police badge code instead.

Toriel could be a possibility, given that the Knight seemingly tried to abduct her before settling for Undyne, but I’m not sure if Toriel would be entrusted with that authority. Maybe the Knight was trying to use her to lure out Asgore or Kris?

Kris is also a candidate, given that they’re connected to the shelter and the mayor. The ending of chapter 3 may also imply that Kris knows how to open the shelter, though it could have just opened without Kris’ involvement

I know I’m showing my bias here, but it’s worth mentioning that Alvin is also a contender. He’s definitely associated with the deltarune, is an influential figure in town, and is conspicuously absent during chapter 4’s dark world shenanigans. He’s one of the only characters who directly tells Kris to stay way from the shelter, whereas most other town members are utterly ignorant of it. There’s also a theory going around that he was the one who made the smaller lobby fountain in the church in order to resurrect Gerson.

That being said, I don’t really think Alvin is likely. I stuck my neck out for him once before, and at this point I think a member of the Dreemurr family is far more likely, especially with the hints toward Asgore’s greater relevance in Chapter 5

Shadow Crystals

I’m fairly confident that not a single person managed to predict the “secret” boss of chapter 3, and I’m honestly very happy about that because none of the popular candidates really spoke to me, even if the idea of Woody theory was amusing

Seam tells us that there are five shadow crystals in total, meaning that chapter 5 will likely give us the last one. Despite this, I predict that there will be a secret boss in chapter 6, though it may be one that’s only accessible if you’ve beaten the previous crystal bosses

I’m now more confused than ever as to what the meaning behind the shadow crystals might be and where this storyline is headed. There is some hidden flavor text in chapter 4 about a “falling star” that implies that the crystals may have been created by the Knight, or are at least primarily related to the Knight in some way. This would tie into the idea that Seam’s reference to a “strange knight” and “strange someone” were one in the same

I was definitely not expecting the Knight to possess a shadow crystal, let alone be the source of them, so this throws a major wrench into my previous assumptions about the role of the crystals

I had once thought that the crystals represented freedom and defiance of the prophecy, and some of the dialogue from “Eram” in chapter 3 implies this may be the case. On the other hand, it feels like the Knight is an agent of the prophecy and Gerson, who openly advocates for defying fate, wants nothing to do with his shadow crystal

On top of this, we don’t really get any further information of who the “strange someone” might be. We find an abandoned phone in the “Z rank” lounge in Chapter 3, but this may have been Spamton’s phone from when he worked with Tenna. It’s also unclear if the person talking to Kris on the phone is at all related to the strange someone or not. The phone voice does seem to be foretelling future events, which could perhaps tie into what Jevil and Spamton experienced, but that’s only speculation on my part.

This also complicates Gaster’s role in all of this. The Knight has holes in their hands, not unlike Gaster, and Gaster is heavily implied to be tied to the shelter and the shadow crystal subplot. At this point, can we say that Gaster is in favor of the prophecy or is he trying to find a “new future” in defiance of it? What if the prophecy itself is the new future? I’m not entirely sure I buy that, given what the weird route has told us, but I can’t say I have any strong answers at this point.

The Weird Route

There’s not as many weird route moments in these chapters as most of us were expecting, but in some ways they’re far more impactful than anything I could have predicted

At first I was confused and a little disappointed that the beginning of Chapter 4 seemed to be walking back the events of Chapter 2’s weird route. That was, until I learned that this was done on purpose—Kris went out of their way to try to undo the events of chapter 2 and keep it a secret from “us.”

My attitude immediately turned around at this revelation, since this solidified that not only is Kris opposed to the weird route (as one might assume), but they’re actively conspiring against us in a game of wits. This only made it all the more impactful when, for once, even Kris’ best laid plans are completely unraveled at Noelle’s house.

This might be recency bias on my part, but the sequence in Noelle’s house during the weird route might just be the single most disturbing and effectively executed cutscene in the entire Undertale/Deltarune franchise. Although it only makes up a small portion of chapter 4 (which is otherwise mostly “vanilla”), it makes a weird route playthrough more than worth it (if you’re ok with that sort of thing)

To back things up a bit, these chapters basically confirm that the weird route is centered around Noelle first and foremost. I strongly suspected this before 3 and 4 came out, but this means that there isn’t going to be some “Toriel firegrave” equivalent to chapter 2’s weird route with the other Hometown residents

In fact, the weird route doesn’t seem like it’s headed for an encore of chapter 2’s events either. It feels more like the killings in chapter 2 were a means to an end

My current shot-in-the-dark suspicion is that freezing Berdly in chapter 2 wasn’t done solely for the sake of killing someone or making Noelle stronger, bur rather it was done to remove Berdly as Noelle’s default choice for a festival date in Chapter 5. Since Carol forbade Noelle from taking Susie, I could see her trying to set her up with Berdly instead in a normal playthrough of Chapter 5. With Berdly out of commission, it’d only make sense for Carol to go along with “Kris” taking Noelle instead

Another shot-in-the-dark prediction I have is that the thorn ring might end up being obtainable in a later normal route chapter, perhaps in chapter 5’s rumored “garden” chapter. One reason why I think this is the case is so that the Twisted Sword will be craftable, but also because I can’t help but wonder where Spamton found that ring in the first place. In the demo we could have Jevil’s shadow crystal and item appear in Castle Town if he was fought previously, so I’m wondering if shadow crystal holders are capable of smuggling items across space and time. In this case, Spamton smuggled a chapter 5 item into chapter 2 so that Noelle could break the game, much like a newgame+ run

This could be its own theory post, but I want to touch on Chapter 3’s “sword route” that’s used to attain the Shadow Mantle. I feel like there’s so much to say about this inclusion and yet I struggle to find the words currently. I am a bit disappointed that I haven’t seen more sword route-focused theories yet. That whole sidequest feels like a Rosetta stone for unpacking the potential meaning of the weird route and predicting where it might be headed.

Ramb says that the sword game was the old game before Tenna changed it, and I’m curious whether there’s any deeper meaning or parallel to that in the weird route. I’m not sure I buy the theory that the weird route is the original course of events that were changed with the introduction of the prophecy, given that other parts of the weird route seem to imply the opposite, but I’m curious to see if anything comes of this idea. It could also be that the sword game is instead a parallel to Undertale, with the implication that Deltarune’s world was given different rules and a fixed outcome as a response to Undertale’s world

Predictions for the Future

If 3 and 4 taught me anything then it’s that it’s nearly impossible to predict this game, no matter how likely a theory seems. Despite that, I figured I’d throw out some ideas here purely for fun. Maybe I’ll get lucky and some of these will come true. So without further ado:

Noelle will return to our party in a dark world, probably in chapter 5. There’s new flavor text for Noelle equipping items in the code and it feels like the weird route would require her to re-enter a dark world at some point

We will not be gaining any new party members beyond Noelle. At most they might serve as an in-battle ACT like Gerson did in chapter 4

Catti and Jockington may appear in a dark world, but they’ll be there as enemies like Berdly was in Chapter 2. Chapter 4’s dialogue with Catti seems to be setting this up. The npc in the “Jockington grows the beard” room makes reference to “5 o’clock,” which could either refer to 5 o’clock shadow or chapter 5

Asgore will receive major focus in chapter 5 and we’ll get information on how he ties into the Holiday family and Dess’ disappearance. The prophecy about Asgore being “trapped in asylum” may mean that he will be the next to be taken to the shelter

Chapter 5 may conclude the Knight storyline or at least serve as a major turning point in that plot, given that Toby originally wanted the paid release of the game to end at chapter 5 instead of 4

Papyrus and Asriel will not show up until the end of the game, if at all.

Weirdly enough, the Froggit in QC's diner has some dialogue in chapter 4 that seemingly implies that one of my old crack theories may be true? Specifically, they mention someone in the diner having pockets full of butterflies, and in that chapter we see the purple Ice-E guy working in the diner. This would be in line with my early speculation that Everyman may be one of the costumed workers at Ice-Es, given Everyman's association with butterflies. I don't think this will have any major story significance, but it's a neat way to bring things full circle for me if true

The final prophecy may involve one or more of the heroes dying, like some have suggested, but I think there’s more to it than that. We see that many of the other prophecies form rhyming couplets, and the prophecy right before the smashed prophecy is one that ends with the word “way”. This makes me suspect that the rhyming word in the smashed prophecy is “betray,” implying that one of the heroes will betray the others and either kill or be killed by them. I don’t think this would be Ralsei, given Susie’s previous suspicion towards him and how she treats him after seeing it. I think the most likely candidates, if true, would be Kris or Susie herself.

Kris being the traitor would be in line with their suspicious behavior and would upset Susie if it gave her reason to doubt that their friendship with her is genuine, but that same friendship would be why she’d try to laugh it off. However, Susie being the traitor would not only seem laughable to Susie but would also disturb her, given that it would confirm every bad thing that she’s thought about herself. It would also potentially be in line with Gerson stating that Susie reminds him of the dragon from Dragon Blazers, who is seemingly an antagonist

#deltarune #deltarune spoilers #deltarune theory #weird route #roaring knight

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thesoftuglywrites · 4 months ago

Text

1,855 Days

Of course, now it’s time to write for everyone’s favorite stressy-depressy emo boy.

Reader insert is afab, and referred to as such.

Content warning: violence, sex between characters, use of Y/N, reader insert is very self deprecating and has low self esteem, mentions of a near death experience, both characters are passengers on the hot mess express and it's gonna show. All characters are 18+ in this fic.

Disclaimer: I am still relatively new to smut writing. I'm going to apologize in advance if it's not any good.

I'm sorry.

WC: 10.6 K

MINORS DO NOT INERACT!

Enjoy!

The first thing that you registered as you came to was the smell of cigarette smoke.

"Aw, is the princess finally waking up?"

The sound of a slap followed. "Don't be mean, Satoru."

What the hell were Shoko and Satoru doing in your room?

You let out a soft groan, your vision a blur as you opened your eyes, blearily blinking to make things come into focus. Once it eventually did, you found yourself in the infirmary with both Satoru and Shoko looming over you as you were laid up in the cot. Actually, it was just Satoru that was standing over you, Shoko was sat in a chair beside your bed, a lit cigarette loosely hanging in between her lips.

"There's our little damsel in distress!" Satoru chirped, his inhumanely blue eyes barley peaking over his sunglasses. "You gave us quite the scare there."

Confusion filled you as you tried to jot your memory on what could have transpired to make you end up so severely injured to end up in the Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College infirmary. Surely you weren't that helpless.

"What happened?" Your throat is dry and your voice is groggy, making it seem like you had been asleep for some time. How long had you been out?

"That curse that you were sent out to deal with in Kotohira was incorrectly graded," Shoko answered, rather monotonously, as she plucked the cigarette out of her mouth with the space between her index and middle finger. "Instead of it being a grade three like we had originally thought, it turned out to be a semi grade one."

Flashes of the prior events began to play out in the forefront of your conscious as you reminisced on the curse that you were assigned to deal with in the tiny village deep in the countryside. You remembered the veil being drawn over an abandoned shrine, trapping you in with a monstrous curse that looked like it had the body of an octopus with the head of a rabid sewer rat that foamed at the mouth. You remembered being able to dodge some of its attacks, near misses at best, but quickly found yourself to be outmatched by the sheer force and viciousness that this curse displayed. A tentacle made one more swipe at you, aiming for your head and neck, which, regrettably for you, made contact.

You don't remember anything after that.

You attempted to sit up in bed, but were quickly frozen by the agonizing flare up of white hot pain that seared in your abdomen.

Satoru, who was quick to place a hand on your shoulder, eased you back down into a supine position in an effort to prevent you from moving any further. "Try and take it easy, kid. You're still in pretty rough shape."

The prodigy of the Gojo clan was usually never this considerate, let alone nice, to you. Many a times that you could recall, he often looked down on you, given the fact that you were the only grade four sorcerer in your year. Your classmates surpassed you in every aspect, whether it be by pure talent, luck, or by sheer physical prowess, you always lagged behind. At best, all you could really do was detect curses when they were there. You couldn't slow down time with the Six Eyes technique or maintain an invisible barrier over your entire body like Satoru could; you couldn't reverse even the most egregious injuries like Shoko could; at best, all you could really do was train, practice, and utilize weapons that were imbued with cursed energy that were at your disposal, and even that was still challenging in it of itself. Hell, even the second years, Nanami and Haibara, were even more gifted than you were.

In your mind, you were an embarrassment to your classmates, the school, and the whole of jujutsu society in its entirety.

With all of that in consideration, you must have come close to dying if it was Satoru who was being this nice to you.

"You got lucky, you know... with Suguru being able to respond so quickly," Shoko mused, as she stuck the cigarette back in between her lips. She stood up from her chair in the far corner of the room, and approached your beside, opposite to Satoru.

Your mind wandered to the raven haired special grade sorcerer that was also within your year. He was also the only one that wasn't present as your classmates checked in on you. "Suguru got me out? How? I thought he was dispatched to deal with a semi-special grade in Shinjuku?"

"Shoko and I actually took care of that one," Satoru replied, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose with his index finger, blocking out his eyes once again. "Principal Yaga decided to make a last minute swap, so that you could have Suguru as your backup in case if you needed it. Turns out the old fart was right."

The sinking feeling of shame started to bloom in your chest along with with the familiar flash of heat that flushed your cheeks, your gaze dropping from Satoru's to look at your hands as they rested on your chest, in an effort to hide your blush, realizing that had Yaga not dispatched Suguru to back you up, you most likely would have ended up in the morgue rather than the infirmary. Not even your teachers trusted you to handle missions on your own when your classmates had been able to do so back when they were first years; how humiliating.

Your internal distressed monologue, as well as the slight furrow of your eyebrows that caused your forehead to slightly crease, did not go unnoticed by Satoru.

Of course it didn't, you snidely thought to yourself. The kid noticed everything.

"Hey... don't beat yourself up about it." His tone was soft and held an edge of kindness, which was a side to him that you've never seen or heard from him before, almost forcing you to raise your eyes from your hands back to his face. "It wasn't your fault. It was a mistake on the higher ups part, not yours."

"Where is Suguru now?" you wondered.

"The kids been locked up in his room since he got you back to campus," Satoru muttered, his tone was something that you couldn't pinpoint. Was it out of annoyance or was it out of concern?

Shoko nodded her head in agreement. She opened her mouth to say something before the sound of a door opening echoed throughout the near empty medical ward, save for the three of you, stopping her in her tracks. All three of you immediately turned your heads to see Principal Yaga stroll in through the doors, a manila folder tucked under his arm as he approached your bedside. He took his sunglasses off before assessing you three, a disapproving gaze forming as he noticed the lit cigarette lodged in between Shoko's fingers.

"Smoking is not permitted on school grounds, Ieiri-san," he scolded. "I think I distinctly remember having several conversations with you about this."

"Sorry, Principal Yaga. Old habits die hard, I suppose," she guiltily chuckled as she lowered her hand back down to her side, trying to hide the cigarette behind herself.

"You are far too young to be using a phrase like that around me. Especially when it comes to a cancerous habit such as that," Yaga retorted. His eyes fell from Shoko and landed on you. "Would you two excuse us for just a moment? I need to have a conversation with Y/N-san privately."

Both Shoko and Satoru exchanged an uncertain look between the two of them, before quietly shuffling away from your cot, making a bee-line towards the infirmary doors.

"Oh, and Ieiri-san?"

Shoko stopped, and paused, looking at Principal Yaga questionably.

"Please extinguish the cigarette at once when you're back in the courtyard, and relinquish all of your lighters and cigarette packs by turning them into my office. Thank you."

You could hear Satoru let a singular shriek of laughter before Shoko admitted a begrudging sigh. "Yes, sir."

Both you and Yaga watched as Shoko and Satoru exited the infirmary; Yaga waited for the doors to swing shut before ascertaining your current condition. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a peach," you joked, but you could immediately tell that the joke didn't land as Yaga didn't even crack a smile or attempt to give you a pity laugh.

He pursed his lips together before taking one of the chairs and pulled it closer to your bedside, taking a seat next to you. "Y/N-san, I want to start this conversation off by saying that I think that you are a wonderful student. Truly, I believe it," he began, untucking the folder from underneath his arm, placing it in his lap. "Your grades and your testing scores have always been top notch and you have such a keen eye for even the smallest detail."

You could feel a contrasting sentiment begin to form as Yaga praised you, your accomplishments, and your dedication as a student.

"-but-"

Ah, there it was.

Yaga continued, practically grimacing as he did so. "Your work out in the field leaves little to be desired."

You sucked in a shaky breath, unsure if you were ready to hear where the rest of this conversation was headed; it's not like you had a say in the matter, really.

He fixed you with a somber look, his fingers drumming on the top of the folder. "This is the third infirmary visit that you have had within the month, Y/N-san, and frankly it's starting to concern not only myself and your teachers, but the higher ups, as well. You're not operating as a third year student should, but rather as a first year student; it's getting to the point where I'm starting to fear that every time that get dispatched on a mission, you're going to end up in the morgue rather than the infirmary."

Operating as a first year student? Ouch.

You focused your gaze back onto your hands again, finding it unbearable to even look at your senior as he voiced his concerns for you and your safety. What little comfort Satoru and Shoko were able to provide to you in your moment of need, was quickly being quashed by the hard truth of reality that Yaga was forcing you to confront. You were far out of your league when it came to being a jujutsu sorcerer in comparison to your classmates, that much was true–it didn't hurt any less when your teachers and superiors noticed your shortcomings.

"I think it may be best to either transfer you to the Kyoto branch or to take you out of field work altogether for the time being–for your own safety."

"What? Why?" you gasped, incredulous now, as you forced yourself to sit upright in bed this time, completely and deliberately ignoring the way that your body screamed at you in protest. "I can't do that! I don't want to do that!"

Yaga nearly jumped, alarmed at your outburst. "Relax, Y/N-san. I'm only doing this-"

The words spilled out before you could stop them, quickly becoming defensive. "Kotohira wasn't my fault! It wasn't my fault that the curse wasn't graded properly!" you cried out, as you could feel your eyes burn with the welling of tears and a lump beginning to protrude in your throat. Mortification flooded through you as you realized how childish you sounded as you deflected the blame of your failures onto others, but with the constant stream of omissions on your part, you were exhausted, to say the least. "I tried my best! I really did, I swear!"

"I know that you tried your best, Y/N-san, and I know that Kotohira was an oversight. We aren't holding you accountable for that, I can assure you that much." Yaga reached forward to place a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as he did so. "Believe me when I say that this isn't a conversation that I wish I didn't have to have with you; truly, I don't. The safety of my students, however, is paramount to me, and I fear that the best that you have to offer at this very moment won't be enough to save not just your life, but the lives of others."

You swiped a hand at your eyes, viciously rubbing away at the tears that spilled over. "I can do better, I can be better–I swear I can!"

"Nothing has been set in stone, yet, Y/N-san; calm down."

You tried to get a grip on yourself as you spiraled, but you could feel yourself slip further and further into turmoil as the thought of your position as a student and as an up and coming jujutsu sorcerer was seemingly about to go up in smoke. You had worked hard for this, you really had; though, you had nothing to show for it. More tears spilled over and you continued to swipe away at them with the back of your hands and the heels of your palms, hoping that you could do away with them before your teacher would notice.

Yaga stretched his hand out towards the bedside table, grabbing a few tissues for you to dry your eyes.

"Like I said, Y/N-san, nothing has been set in stone. No papers have been signed, no transfers have been initiated, nothing has been done as of right now. Take a deep breath, and try to calm down."

You nodded, not trusting your voice. You sucked in a deep breath, but it was really more of a gasp than anything.

He handed you the folder that was on his lap, that you accepted with both hands. "I've compiled everything on the Kyoto branch for you to study up on, if you chose to transfer over; everything about the campus, the teachers, classes that they have, the paperwork that you would need to fill out, and among various other things." Yaga stood up from the chair. "I don't mean to drop this on you while you're still in recovery. I'm sorry. I suppose I should have a bit more tact about that in the future." He strode towards the doors that led out of the infirmary, but he paused. "And for what it's worth, Y/N-san," he turned and looked at you over his shoulder, "I meant what I said about you being a good student. You most certainly put your other classmates to shame in the classroom, but not everyone is cut out for the actual job of a sorcerer." Yaga hesitated to say the next words, but continued on. "It's best that your limitations are learned now while you're still a student."

And alive to tell the tale, he wanted to add on, but he stopped himself from doing so.

He exited the infirmary, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a folder full of paperwork that felt more like a white hot branding iron than anything else as you continued to hold it in your hands. You threw it to the end of your bed, wanting to rid yourself of the memory of the conversation.

The plastic bag of konbini store bought goods started to grow heavier and heavier in your hand the closer that you approached the boys' dormitories. Earlier that morning, you had been released from medical observation after having spent several days in the infirmary. Satoru, Shoko, Kento, Haibara, and even Ijichi had been to visit you a multitude of times while you recovered, trying to raise your spirits as you were on bedrest–you had no idea if the conversation that had played out between you and Yaga had reached the others, and frankly you didn't care to find out if it did.

In the meantime, Suguru had not been to visit you; not once. Every time that you asked of him, you got the same answer:

"He hasn't left his dorm. No one hasn't seen him since he brought you back to campus."

So, instead of waiting for him to emerge from his own personal void, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You strode down the hallway, heading to the very last door on the left hand side where a placard displayed the title: S. Geto next to the doorframe. With your freehand, you rapped on the door.

You got nothing for a response. You waited a full minute before trying again, this time increasing the weight in your closed fist and the speed of your knocks, almost rattling the entire door.

Finally, you heard from the other side of the entryway: "What do you want, Satoru? I'm not in the mood for entertainment tonight."

"It's not Satoru... it's me."

There was a slight pause before you heard shuffling from behind the door. The sound of the lock clicked before the wood panel was ripped open and you were, at long last, finally faced with your classmate that was responsible for saving your life.

"Hey..." Suguru exhaled, his posture relaxing somewhat as he was able to finally ascertain your condition as you stood before him. The last time he saw you, you were unconscious, bleeding out profusely in his arms, utilizing the giant pelican curse to take flight to get you back to safety and the medical attention that you so desperately needed in the moment. His mind unintentionally, and rather cruelly, flashed back to when he first found you, how you were splayed out on the ground, completely dead to the world while the curse loomed over you and was quite literally about to cut into your abdomen and-

No.

He can't ruminate on that right now.

You're here. You're breathing. You're standing in front of him. You're alive and well. That's what matters.

"Hi." Several beats of awkward silence passed between you two, unsure of how to go about this conversation. You did a quick once over, noticing just how... ungroomed he was. Suguru looked like he hadn't had a good nights rest in god knows how long, the bags underneath his eyes were a testament to that observation. His clothes had various stains on them–god only knows what–indicating, to you, at least, that it's been some time since he's last changed out of his clothes. His hair, the very first thing that you noticed about him when you had first met him, was extraordinarily unkempt and greasy. How long had it been since he had a bath or a shower?

You held up the bag in your hand, hoping to entice his interest. "May I come in?"

"Oh! Uh... yeah, just give me one second." He wasted no time in shutting the door, and you could hear even more shuffling around, the rustling of plastic bags, a couple of bangs here and there. Give or take several minutes later, the door reopened and Suguru presented himself with multiple black plastic bags that he set outside of his door. "My place is a bit of a mess..." He opened the door a bit wider for you, allowing you entrance into his dorm.

"It's fine. I kind of showed up unannounced, anyways..."

Suguru's dorm room matched his outward appearance as you stepped into it, shuffling out of your shoes near the entryway; he wasn't exactly kidding when he said that his place was a bit messy. The drapes to his windows were drawn closed, seemingly shutting out the rest of the outside world. Various papers, books, and notebooks were scattered and stacked upon one another, either on, or near his desk on the ground, along with piles of unwashed clothes were stacked up in the far corners of his room, and his on his bed.

As if reading your mind, Suguru glanced back at you to see you eyeing the clutter that decorated his room, causing him to rush forward and salvage what he could and stuff it in his laundry basket that was hidden away in his closet. "Sorry, I must have missed that..." he uttered, embarrassed.

"Like I said." You presented him with the bag. "I showed up unannounced."

He looked down at the bag, subtle intrigue gracing his features. "What's this?"

"My gratitude, as piss poor as it may be, for saving my life in Kotohira." You stretched your arm further out, willing him to take it from you.

"Why would it be piss poor?" He took the bag from you, opening it slightly so he could see the contents inside of it, noting two large plastic basins of cup ramen from his favorite brand, in both the spicy and non spicy variants, several bags of his favorite chips, drinks, and candy. "You didn't have to go out of your way to do this for me, I hope you know that."

"I know, but..." Your hands linked together at the front of your center, your fingers nervously twiddling around as you could feel Suguru bore his gaze into you, his eyes analytical as he surveyed you; shyness sparking within you and spread throughout your entire trunk. "... I wanted to–especially considering that I was way out of my league with that curse."

"Right." Suguru's lips pursed tightly together into a thin line; at the mention of Kotohira, the image of you, bloody and lifeless, immediately flashes in his mind–unwanted and unwelcome. A wave of nausea flowed through him, but he tried to shove those sensations to the side; instead, he deflected. "Glad to see you back on your feet."

"Yeah," you dryly chuckled, as you looked down to examine your body, raising your arms simultaneously to do an open presentation to your body. "A couple of healing sessions with Shoko, a few days of rest, and I'm as good as new."

"As good as new," he echoed, nodding his head. His eyes slightly dropped from yours, finding himself too exhausted to even maintain eye contact with you anymore.

You dip your head slightly down, trying to match his gaze once again. There was an elephant in the room, and you couldn't avoid it any longer. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine. Perfect. Never better." His response is robotic, devoid of any real human emotion or warmth to help convince you otherwise.

"You're a terrible liar and you know it."

Suguru doesn't move, remaining stationary with his head still down. "I know." His eyes slowly flit up, but just barely enough to meet your concerned ones. "I'm fine. You really don't need to worry about me."

"You're so full of shit." The words slip out before you can stop them, unable to find yourself to tiptoe around it anymore; your tone is unthinkingly harsh, you don't mean it to be. "You haven't left your dorm in god knows how long, the place is a complete mess, you look like you haven't slept for days, you smell like you haven't bathed or showered in days–and you have the absolute gall to tell me not to worry about you? Fuck off, Suguru!"

He winced as you went off on him. "I don't mean to-"

"I'm concerned about you, Suguru. Maybe Satoru and Shoko won't say anything to you, but I will." You take a step forward, your head dipping further down, still trying to catch his eyes. "I can't read your mind, but everything that you're doing here is clearly a cry for help. I want to help you, Su."

Suguru closed his eyes, and turned away, his back now facing you. There were tears in his eyes and he couldn't let you see that; a crack in the facade that he was so desperately trying to maintain. "It's not your concern." He had to change the subject before you truly broke him open and got to the core reason of his suffering; deflect, deflect, deflect! he screamed at himself. "Besides." He craned his head to look over his shoulder at you, his gaze lacking warmth. "Shouldn't you be a bit more concerned about your status as a sorcerer instead of worrying about me?"

You reel back a bit, as if he had dealt you a physical blow, stunned. "I... I'm sorry?"

He turned around to face you again, his presence now menacing. "Yaga talked to me, naturally he had asked me what had happened for you to be so injured–just like every other mission that you've gone on." He took several steps forward, forcing you to take several steps back. "I think he mentioned to me that this was the third consecutive infirmary visit that you've had within the month after being dispatched on other missions, either resulting in you being unable to exorcise the curse or the failure to save those implicated."

You began to get defensive, humiliation flaring up at the mention of your lack of successes. "That's none of your goddamn business!"

"It is my business when I'm your designated backup and you're about to be ripped apart by the curse that you are meant to exorcise; your shortcomings are so exhaustive that I even asked Yaga to take you out of field work."

You sucked in a breath, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs, the revelation leaving you shocked. "What?"

He didn't look proud. It wasn't something to be prideful of, knowing how hard you worked; in his mind, however, it had to be done, regardless. Suguru eased up on the verbal assault, willing himself to be a fraction tender than he was previously. "Listen to me, I know it sounds bad, but I-"

"You rat bastard!" you cried out, the sting of betrayal burned through your core as his words took hold. You recoiled, physically cowered, at the notion that Suguru was responsible for putting the idea in Yaga’s head to get your position as an up and coming Jujutsu sorcerer terminated. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

"I was the one that found you, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice now climbing up in tone and in pitch, the nonchalant coldness that he had displayed previously now long gone. "Had I been a second too late you would have ended up in the fucking morgue! That curse was about to turn you into mincemeat and I can’t get the goddamned images out of my head! I can’t forget it!"

"Well, thank you for saving my life, Suguru, truly, I am grateful–but you had no right to go to Yaga and convince him to take me out of commission!" You jabbed a finger in his chest, almost making him stumble backwards.

"Every single mission that you have ever been on have been complete and utter debacles, even when we were first years! With the rate that you're operating at, you're going to get yourself killed!" he screamed back, now getting up in your face.

"You wanna talk to me about failed missions?" You felt as if venom was dripping from your teeth and your tongue as you spoke your next words, thoughtlessly letting your next verbal attack do as much damage as it possibly could. "What about that mission last spring, huh? The one that involved that fourteen year old girl? What was her name again, Riko?"

Suguru's mouth went dry at the mention of her, the next couple of words that he was going to use instantaneously dying within his throat. He took a step backwards, putting a bit of distance between the two of you, fighting off the onslaught of emotions that threatened to over flow and drown him; all of the feelings that he had spent the last two years trying to bury deep within himself, so much so to the point of where it started to shake him and the morals that he held with such high regard. Traumatic flashes began to play out in the forefront of Suguru's conscious, some of which included Riko Amanai getting gunned down in cold blood in front of him, nearly dying at the hands of the Toji Fushiguro, the one man, and so far the only man, that had managed to get the drop on both him and Satoru, along with Satoru carrying her limp body in his hands as members of the Star Religious Group all clapped in unison in a thunderous applause.

You mentally berated yourself for using that history against him. Though you weren't present for the mission, and thank god for that, there had been some kind of unspoken agreement between you, Shoko, Suguru and Satoru to never bring that mission up in casual conversation ever again–and here you were, using it as petty leverage against him in the verbal spat that you two were having. "I'm sorry. That was mean of me."

The memories kept replaying. He couldn't save her. He couldn't stop it. The sound of applause overpowered his hearing, forcing him to use his palms to cover his ears. He can't hear you.

"Suguru, hey." You rushed forward, enclosing his face in your hands, forcing him to bring his eyes to meet yours. His eyes were watery, his vision a blur as he looked at you and all of the animosity that you held towards him completely vanished. "I'm sorry, I really am. I shouldn't have said that to you; that was rude and insensitive of me."

He curled himself forward, tucking his face into your shoulder. You quickly found your shirt wet with tears, his entire trunk shaking with the quiet sobs that escaped him. He clung onto you like you were the last lifeline that he would ever receive, his hands fisting into your shirt to clutch you even closer. With the way that his chest heaved, his cries sounded strangled.

You had never seen Suguru so distraught before, as he normally sported such a cool and calm demeanor that equally balanced out Satoru's childish antics; in a way, it almost frightened you.

Suguru's weight collapsed into you, and you nearly had to fight back a gasp of pain as he did so. Given the fact that, yes, you were out of the infirmary, and yes, you had received several healing sessions from Shoko, but you still weren't a hundred percent better. The both of you sank to your knees, but you maintained your hold on Suguru, trying give him something to anchor himself to while he was still at the mercy of his emotional state of being. You held him for as long as he needed you to, until your knees ached and your arms grew tired; you remained steadfast.

Eventually, Suguru's breathing evened out and the sobs died down, with just the occasional hiccup and hitched breath that escaped from him every now and then. He pulled his face out of your shoulder just slightly, his tear streaked face now coming into your view. He still avoided meeting your eyes, but after everything that had just transpired, you honestly didn't blame him.

Your hands slid from around his trunk back up to the sides of his face, your thumbs trying to wipe away at the excess tears that lingered. "Do you feel any better?"

A single nod.

"... How long have you held this in, Suguru?"

A beat of silence passed before he answered you. "Awhile."

You nodded, not wanting to push the subject any further. You gently eased yourself off of him as he unwrapped his arms from around you. "Come on." You stand up, extending your hand towards him. "You should take a shower. I can do a bit of light cleaning while I'm still here."

He hesitated for a mere second, before he took your hand in his, hoisting himself back up into a standing position.

"Go and get yourself cleaned up. You'll feel a bit better after a hot shower," you urged, handing him a towel that you found discarded on the floor and the bag of toiletries that you noticed on the counter from the corner of your eyes.

Suguru wordlessly took the items as you handed them to him. He shuffled towards the door, but delayed in putting on his shoes before he turned back to face you. "Will you still be here when I get back?"

"Yes. I promise that I'll still be here when you get back."

He gives you one last look over his shoulder, his expression unreadable, before exiting his dorm. You immediately put yourself to work, by taking the multiple bags of garbage that sat outside of his dorm down to the dumpsters that sat in between both the girls' dormitories and the boys' dormitories. You collected all of the discarded, worn, and dirtied clothes that you found on the floor in his closet and put them into the laundry hamper that sat in the far corner of his room. You scoured through his drawers and managed to find a fresh set of bed sheets to change out on his mattress.

You were in the middle of tidying up his desk area when the door opened to reveal a freshly showered and cleaned Suguru.

"Hey." You perked up and turned to face him. "Are you feeling a bit better?"

He nodded his head as he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes. "Somewhat."

A soft smile formed on your face. "Good. I'm glad to hear that." You turned back around, redirecting your attention back to the task at hand. You heard Suguru set his stuff down on the counter behind you, and you could feel his presence linger behind you. "I managed to get a majority of stuff cleaned out and tidied up. Your clothes and your bedsheets are gonna have to go through the wash-" you turned around, expecting him to still be lingering by the door but found your words trailing off when you saw that he was mere inches away from you.

Lavender irises finally bore into yours, a hazy and undecipherable expression laid out on his face. You let out a shuddering breath, unsure of what was to follow as he slowly inched closer and closer to you. He reached up and clasped your hands in his, slowly getting your fingers to release the papers that you held within your hands, as he set it back down onto the desk beside you two. He leaned his face down towards yours, but stopped with centimeters to spare. You could feel his exhaled breath of your face, the smell of cool mint on his breath indicating that he had just brushed his teeth.

"What are you doing, Suguru?" you timidly whispered, unsure of what was going on in his mind or what he was planning on doing.

Suguru barely, just barely, glanced down to your lips before glancing back up to your eyes. "Something that I should have done a long time ago," he murmured. He held this position for a few beats, letting you make the nonverbal decision whether or not if this was something that you wished to continue, that you would consent to if you wanted this.

It had long been a secret that Suguru had harbored within himself that he had liked you just a little bit more than he had let on around the others. It had been shown in small ways, though, whenever he would try to reign in Satoru's playful teasing (let's be realistic, bullying would be a more correct term). He would walk behind you whenever the group would walk forward at a pace that you couldn't keep up with, just so that you weren't alone, as well as took you into consideration whenever he, Satoru, Shoko, Kento, and Haibara would go and visit the konbini stores, and you had chosen to stay behind, focusing on school work and sparring lessons rather than leisure outings with your classmates; you would always find snacks outside of your dormitory when you would tuck in for the night.

In a way, you may have always known–but you never really were brave enough to test those waters.

That is, until the opportunity presented itself to you–quite literally on a silver platter–at the current moment.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you mustered up the courage to lean forward and meet Suguru half way by placing your lips on his, hoping to god that he wouldn't shove you away. To your surprise, he melted within you; he gently placed both of his hands on the sides of your face and titled your head upwards as he pressed his chest against yours, not breaking the kiss as he did so. He suckled on your top lip, one of his hands softly trailing down from the side of your face to enclose around the hollow of your throat, his thumb gently rubbing up against your trachea. You grasped his wrist loosely, letting his mouth and tongue work against you.

As time went on, the kiss became more frenzied. His motions became hungrier, more starved; he wanted more from you. It was as if Suguru was a man that had been lost in the desert and you were the oasis that could offer him reprieve. He began to nudge you backwards until you felt the mattress against the back of your knees.

You had to jerk yourself away, your lungs screaming at you for the relief of oxygen. You gasped and panted, holding him away from you at arms length with your hands on his shoulders. Suguru didn't look deterred, however, and found you breathlessness adorable, almost. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his center, placing your palms flat on his chest; you could feel the erratic pulsating of his heart.

"What are we doing, Suguru?" you asked, trying to find a shred of consciousness to bring you back to reality, despite the lustful fog that clouded your better judgment.

"It's quite simple, Y/N," he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I've made my decision; I'm not holding myself back anymore." He raised one of your hands to his mouth, pressing your fingertips against his lips before sticking one of your digits into his mouth. A flash of heat went straight to your core at both the sight and the sensation of feeling the wetness of his tongue and the pressure as he suckled on your fingers.

You were at a loss for words, your mind unable to function coherently. The lag in your alertness caused you to miss the double entendre that Suguru had just spoken to you, the weight of his words far heavier than you truly realized.

Either you didn't realize it, or you simply didn't care.

Suguru peered at you through his lashes, pulling your fingers out of his mouth with strings of saliva still attaching you to him. "You can tell me to stop if you don't want this."

You vigorously shake your head back and forth, strongly suggesting a firm 'no' on your end.

He chuckled. "Good." He gently pushed you backwards, forcing you to land on your back on the mattress behind you, your body softly bouncing against it upon impact. He's quick to cover your body with his, reattaching his mouth to yours. In a clash of saliva, lips, tongues, and teeth, your exhaled breaths become sharper and harsher as the two of you continued with your ministrations to one another. Suguru reached down towards the hem of your shirt, fisting it into his grip. "Can I undress you? Please?" He sounded desperate.

You nodded your head, giving him the permission to do so. Your arms flew up above your head, assisting him in shedding off the extra barriers that separated you from him. In a flurry of tangled limbs, it doesn't take long for either one of you to be completely desolate and in the nude.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he breathed, noticing the slick the covered your folds. His pupils are blown out, completely dilated to the size of quarters as he lowered himself to be face to face with your cunt. He looked up back to your face, silently asking permission if he could taste you. With another silent nod, Suguru wasted little to no time diving in; using his thumbs to pull your labia apart, he gave little kitten licks to your clit before completely flattening his tongue against you, making you bite down on your bottom lip in order to prevent you from gasping.

It was a strange sensation to feel, at the very least, to feel something as wet and abject as Suguru's tongue against your innermost parts. It was foreign to you, to bare something as intimate as this, an act so visceral that it shook you to your core. Never in a million years did you think that you would experience it for the first time with your classmate. His arms hooked around your legs, locking you into place as he continued with his motions against you. Your teeth were nearly breaking through the skin of your bottom lip, the pressure building within you as you felt him massage his tongue against you; his actions weren't hurried, but he certainly had found his rhythm. You could feel your abdomen begin to tighten, your muscles forming a vice grip as the pleasure mounted upon itself. He wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling it into his mouth–your vision went white for a moment as he did so, a slight tremor rippled through your limbs.

Suguru slowly began to rock his hips into the mattress the more that he pleasured you, trying to alleviate some of the need that was starting to build within himself. An internal tent formed within the loose restrictions of his clothes; desire and unabashed lust burning in his abdomen.

He eased off of you, noticing your absolution to silence. "Don't hide yourself from me. I wanna hear you," he whispered, a shameless expression in his eyes that quite literally made you implode on yourself, another strangled breath escaping from you.

"Don't give me that false hope," you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of self control.

"What false hope?" Suguru pressed a trail of kisses from your core, leading up your abdomen, but the lascivious leer that he had on you never left your face. "Is it truly that unbelievable that I might actually have feelings for you?"

"Yes, it is," you panted, the self consciousness swarmed in the more that he continued to stare at you, "especially considering the fact that it's me we're talking about."

You startled at the pierce of being bitten into one of the folds of your abdomen, hissing in surprise to see Suguru latch his teeth onto you; an annoyed glint in his eyes as he stared you down. He released your flesh, only ever so slightly as strings of saliva still connected from your wound to his tongue. "Stop belittling yourself," he warned, a sternness to his features, making it seem, and feel like, you were a child being scolded. "I won't stand for it."

You were rendered silent as he glared at you, giving a rather pathetic nod as he bore his soul into yours; you had hoped that your submissive response would have been enough to satiate the austere gaze that he had upon you.

He softly placed his lips on the irritated spot where he had sunk his teeth into you, knowing that a bruise was likely to form. Suguru pushed himself upwards, allowing him to sit back on the haunches of his feet before he grabbed hold of the freshly changed shirt that he was wearing, and pulled it over his head, ridding him of one of his articles of clothing before discarding it off to the side along with yours.

"I need you to know this, Y/N," Suguru mused, outstretching his hands into your palms, allowing him to thread his fingers through yours; his face was pensive as he looked at you, but behind the outer expression, you could detect sincerity. "Perhaps my actions have not accurately portrayed my emotions, but there is nothing false or fraudulent about how I feel for you, and it offends me to hear that you would think otherwise–wounds me, even."

"Suguru, you don't need to-" your sentence is quickly cut short by the sudden tightening that almost threatened to crush your hands as he squeezed them with his own, his nails subtly digging into the flesh of your knuckles.

"Stop that; stop doubting me and stop doubting what I feel for you."

"You're only just saying that because I cleaned your room and I'm in between your legs."

Suguru fought off a chuckle as he reached behind himself to pull his shirt over his head. "No, but it is an added plus." He grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you into an upright position, swiftly changing positions with you as you were guided you into a prone position with your head and your hands hanging off the end of his bed. From across the room was a large full length floor mirror that faced the bed, where you could watch as Suguru shedded off both his sweatpants and underwear; your mouth salivated at the sight of it. Without the restriction of his underwear to hold himself down, his hardened length immediately sprung up and slapped against his abdomen–his tip an angry red, a stark contrast to the melanated tone that colored the rest of his cock and his testicles.

There was no doubt in your mind that Geto Suguru was one of the most beautiful men that you had ever had the chance of ever encountering in your lifetime.

Or perhaps beguiling was a better word.

"Like what you see?"

His goad brought you out of your trance like state as your eyes caught his in the mirror, a smug look on his face as he lowered himself to cover your backside with his front; you could feel his hardened member press up against your lower back and his testicles rest upon the top of your ass. What an odd feeling that was.

You averted your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed at the notion of being caught.

Suguru slid his arm underneath your jaw, using it to prop your head up on his forearm, but also as a way to cage you in, and hold you in place, as well. Warmed breaths tickled the nape of your neck as you felt Suguru's lips near your ear; he gently latched his teeth onto the outer shell, making you whimper. "Don't play coy with me now."

"Don't think that just because I'm trapped under you, naked, and on your bed doesn't mean that I'm no longer upset with you for telling Yaga to pull me out of the field," you snapped, clarity finally ringing through for you after the initial haze had worn off. You were still quite annoyed with him, angry even.

Suguru let out a breathy chuckle at your insinuation. "What a predicament you must be in." He grabbed hold of your jaw with his other hand, forcing you to raise your eyes to meet his through the reflection of the mirror, not giving you the chance or the freedom to move or look away from him. The expression in his eyes veracious. "I don't want you dead; simple as that. After finding you in Kotohira, I can't stomach seeing you like that ever again, do you understand me?"

"You had no justification in telling him-"

"I had every justification, Y/N." He's quick to cut you off, no longer willing himself to listen to what you had to say, his grip on your jaw tightening just a fraction. "The justification was when you were bleeding out onto my school uniform and onto my curse as we flew back to campus, the justification was when you spent nearly a week unconscious in the infirmary and then some bedridden from your injuries. Not to mention that this wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened to you."

You glowered at him, your lip upturning in disgust. "Still, you-"

"You can hate me and cuss me out all you want." He released your jaw and slid his arm out from under your head, pushing himself upwards again, towering over your backside as he lined himself up to your entrance, his hands on your hips. "Least you'll be alive to do it." He nudged his hips forwards, the head of his cock starting to breach past your entrance, making you gasp and fist the duvet into your hands as the feeling of being stretched open started burn within your pelvis the more that his cock intruded.

"Fuck me," he groaned out, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes. He bottomed out as his hips were flush against your ass, holding himself there for a few moments, allowing you to familiarize yourself with him inside you. "You doing okay?"

You had buried your face into the mattress, white knuckling the sheets the tighter that you held onto the duvet. You mutely nodded your head as the burn slowly dulled to a low ache. You felt him take his right hand from your hip, and grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to raise your head to meet him through the reflection of the mirror. "Look at how beautiful you are right now," he breathed, a half ass smirk starting to form on his face.

This was a sight... truly to behold for yourself. You had never seen yourself in this position, so vulnerable and subjective to whatever Suguru wanted to do to you as he towered over you from behind.

"Beautiful? Or am I just submissive to you?" you bit back, still finding yourself in a sour mood.

Another breathy chuckle. "Both."

With careful precision, he cautiously pulled his length outwards before rolling his hips forward again to set a pace that was comfortable for both you and himself. You fought off the moans and whimpers that bubbled in your chest as the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room; the tip of his cock started to brush against a particularly sensitive spot in your warmth, causing you to contort your face as the pleasure started to outweigh the pain the more that Suguru slid his cock in and out of your velvet walls. You didn't want to feed into his ego more than you already had previously.

The more that you squeezed around him, whether it be intentionally or unintentionally, Suguru found himself enslaved to the wonders that your body offered him. He wanted more of it, more of you. Your cunt completely drenched his cock with strings of your essence giving him several forms of connection from you to him as it leaked from your entrance. He released your hair, his hand flying back to your waist as he started to buck up into you. He gripped your hips a bit more tightly, hoisting your hips upwards, allowing his cock to reach deeper in you, his tip barely kissing your cervix. Fast-paced pants escaped from Suguru, his gaze locked in on how his cock continuously disappeared and reappeared in between your cheeks the more that he thrust into you. His nails dug into the flesh of your hips, crescent shaped moons decorating your skin.

"Fuck, you feel so good!" Suguru cried out, throwing his head back as a prolonged moan released from the depths of his soul. He begun to piston his cock harder and faster into you, making your body jolt with every thrust that slapped against you.

"Suguru... I... I can't..." you helplessly mewled, enraptured by the constant stimulation and bombardment of , by both Suguru's cock bullying itself into you, as well as the fact that your clit was rubbing up against the blanket every time that Suguru thrust up against you; it was beginning to become too much for you.

"Yes, you can," he breathed, lowering himself over you, forcing you into a fully prone position once again, and his lips at your ear again. "You've been doing so well for me all this time, don't you wanna continue being good for me?"

He dug his hand underneath you, his fingers seeking out your center; when he finally found your clit, he pinched it in between his thumb and index finger, making you gasp out and lurch forward, nearly making you fall off the bed as a lightning bolt of white hot pleasure shot through you. He rolled your clit in between this fingers, increasing the rhythm in which he stimulated you, causing you to thrash around underneath him, helpless and completely at his mercy as he had his way with you.

The familiar feeling of your abdominal muscles tightening dawned on you, the more that Suguru rubbed at your clit and thrust into you, alerting you of your impending orgasm as it started to mount upon itself, desperately seeking out release–like it was a dam getting ready to burst.

"You're close, aren't you?" Suguru licked the outer shell of your ear with the tip of his tongue, before he decided to suckle it into his mouth; he's babbling now. "I can feel getting tighter and tighter around me, fucking squeezing me like a goddamn vice grip. Come for me. I want you to come for me, milk me for all I'm worth. I want it–I need it, goddammit!"

"Suguru, I- please, I can’t!" you cried out, everything and every sensation reaching a head as your abdomen clamped down on itself, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, your body convulsing with each pulsation that seized. Your eyes brimmed with tears as a the waves continued to move through your entire core, completely overwhelmed and getting fairly close to overstimulation. You reached under yourself and grabbed Suguru's wrist, throwing his hand off of you and desperate to get his fingers off your folds.

"Yes–ha–you can. You just did!" Suguru grounded out, his hips now fully bucking into you and rutting up against you with unabashed lust and fervent, now chasing his own high; the sensation of you clamping around him as you orgasmed quite literally made him feel as if he had died and ascended to the next astral plane. He could feel the base of his cock start to throb the more that he moved against you, and in a flurry of heated movement, Suguru pinned you against the bed and began to pound into you, the forceful thrusts literally moving the entire bed frame, causing it to squeak and groan with each viscous piston of his hips against yours.

Unable to hold himself back anymore, but not willing to take the risk of getting you pregnant, Suguru ripped himself out of your cunt and wrapped his hand around himself, a piss poor replacement for your warmth, using your release as lubricant to fully finish himself off. A strangled groan escaped from Suguru as his release hit him like a freight train, and watched as the white droplets spurted out of the head of his cock, painting your backside; you slightly jumped at the feeling of it, not anticipating this action on your end.

Suguru slumped over, the exhaustion now settling in as he came down from his high, the post-coital bliss overtaking him as soft pants escaped from between his lips. He collapsed next to you, an adorning look on his face as he gazed upon you. You limply turned your head to meet his, your expression mirroring his–affectionate, but fatigued.

"Was that okay?" he asked, raising a hand to gently brush some of the loose strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face.

You mutely nodded, too sluggish to verbally respond.

"I meant what I said earlier, by the way." He scooted closer to you, pressing a soft kiss, first to the crown of your head, your nose, and then finally your lips. He pulled away from you, now somber. "I don't want you dead, and if I have to piss you off in order to keep you safe, then so be it."

You could barely register the words as he said them, the sleepiness now coming for you with a fury; you felt drunk. "... 'm still mad at you."

Another breathy chuckle, then followed by a soft, relenting sigh. "I know you are–but frankly I don't really care."

First, it started with Haibara.

When the news had hit campus that the mission that both Kento and Haibara was dispatched on had gone fatally awry, Suguru had spent several hours with Haibara's corpse in the morgue, along with Kento. It was then immediately followed by both Suguru and Satoru's caseload becoming larger and larger, as Kento and Haibara's missions were then allocated to the two special-grade sorcerers, their presences on campus near nonexistent. You didn't get a chance to talk to him.

Then, it was the mission where Suguru had to rescue the two young girls that were being held prisoner in a small village of 112 civilians. When the higher ups had truly learned what had truly transpired over there, and how Suguru had essentially massacred the entire village, he was quickly ousted and expelled from jujutsu society, and sentenced to death should he ever get captured by the proper authorities.

You hadn't seen him since.

The ache in your soul never really left, either.

Five years and one month later...

Suguru watched as the twins stood over the edge of the large crater that had split open the ground of the curse that he had just exorcised. In his hand, he held the orb of the exorcised curse, glowing a muted white with streaks of blue that had shone through, mentally and physically preparing himself to absorb the curse within himself to add to his ever growing collection of curses. He took a deep breath and forced the orb down, revulsion flashing through him as the orb made its way from his mouth and down his esophagus; he clasped two hands over his mouth, staggered forward as he physically cowered, willing himself to not vomit the curse back up.

"Geto-sama!" Nanako called out, vigorously waving a hand over her head to try and capture his attention. "Come over here! I see something down there!"

Suguru took in several deep breaths to try and regain control of himself before he sauntered forward to where the twins were standing. He straightened himself upright, enclosing his hands to the front of his chest, letting the sleeves of his blood soaked gojo-gesa cover them. He stalked forward to where Nanako and Mimiko were standing.

Nanako jabbed a finger downwards in the crater, where his eyes saw a figure amongst the destruction and wreckage of the battle that had ensued. "See! Right there!"

"A monkey caught in the crossfire perhaps?" Mimiko mused, pulling her teddy bear closer to her chest as she tried to lean in forward to get a better look; she nearly lost her balance, almost falling into the opening.

Suguru quickly snapped his hand out, catching her by her arm in order to prevent her from falling in. "Careful, little one," he gently chided, pulling her backwards to safety. "You two stay here. I'll go and check it out to see what it is."

"Don't you mean who it is?" Nanako asked, trying to be a bit of a smart ass; she was at that age.

"Not if it's a monkey, Nana," Suguru snickered, calling upon one of his airborne curses to levitate him down into the opening to get a better look at what the girls had initially seen. "I'll be back momentarily." He floated down, maintaining his perfect posture and composure, an indifferent look on his face as he got closer and closer to the figure. When he had finally reached the ground, he sauntered forward, ready to demolish whatever pathetic being had been unfortunate enough to catch Suguru on a bad day.

With more and more steps towards the figure, Suguru could feel the smug and arrogant nature begin to slip away from his facade as he began to recognize some of the features that the figure had; it had your body type. Your hair. Your skin color. He couldn't maintain himself any longer and rushed forward, panic starting to overwhelm him as he realized that there was a strong possibility that figure really could have been you.

Urgency to his movements now, he approached and he could clearly make out your face. It looked as if you were in a deep, peaceful sleep, instead of you being beaten into an unconscious pulp from a curse that was far above your grade for you to deal with. He noticed that you were holding a sword in one of your hands, deducing to him that you most likely had been spent out to exorcise this curse–at the expense of your own life, apparently. It was exactly like Kotohira from all those years ago, and it was pretty damn evident that you didn't learn your lesson from the first time, making him internally groan out of annoyance but also pure frustration and lividness.

Suguru crouched down beside you, pressing two fingers to the underside of your jaw to feel for your carotid artery in hopes of finding a pulse; praying to some higher power that he didn't believe in with fearful uncertainty that you were still alive and breathing. He let out a breath that he didn't even realize that he was holding in when he found the rhythmic pulsing underneath your skin, all of the apprehension that he had disappearing from within him.

He reached down to dislodge the handle of the sword from your grip, before sliding his arms underneath your body, lifting you off of the ground and into his embrace and keeping you close to his chest with your head limply resting against his shoulder. He called upon another curse to help transcend the two of you upwards and out of the crater. With your head so close to his face, he couldn't help himself but softly press a kiss to your forehead.

After all these years, he still held you with such tender regard.

"Geto-sama! Do you know this woman?!" Nanako called out, eager to find out more about you, given the fact that she had never ever seen her pseudo-father figure hold another woman the way like he was currently holding you.

"I do. She's an old friend and classmate of mine."

"Is she coming home with us?" Mimiko asked, clutching her doll a bit tighter to her chest as the two of you ascended closer to the twins. This was strange–she didn't like this change.

Suguru sinisterly laughed at the thought of it. If he were a better man, he would have dropped your body off outside the gates of the Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College, dropping you off into the care of those that claimed to be the righteous, morally justified societies that continuously threw its youth into the jaws of death.

If he were a better man, that is. He was clearly past the point of caring.

As he reached the ledge, he stepped forward back onto the ground, presenting his daughters with their new mother. "Yes. She'll be living with us from now on."

You may come to hate him for it, but at least you'll be alive to do it.

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