Maybeeee Part 3 Where They Actually Meet Irl Pookie? 🥺💙

❦ - lights camera golazo - PART 2

summary: media finds out about alejandros new relationship with the well known sports photographer - SOCIAL MEDIA ALTERNATE UNIVERSE!! 😍

warnings: nun ; atleast i don’t think there’s any 😭

writers note: lowkey didn’t know how to make this into a fic so a smau will have to do; @cherryloveshs you’re a crazy requester 😔

face claim: random girls from pinterest

part one

liked by alejandrobalde , pablogavi , _ferminlopez and 39,000 others

barcauniversal: Photo from Fermin Lopez’s instagram of what fans assume to be Alejandro Balde with a mystery girl in Paris during this winter break

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user1: isn’t y/n in paris too? she took photos of him for social media?

user2: OMG YEAHH

user3: y’all are so delusional??

user4: nah you doing too much😭

user5: OMG??

lamineyamal: su primera novia 😂

liked by alejandrobalde , pedri , yourbestfriend and 12,000 others

yourusername: visca barca 💙❤️

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user10: i wish 💔

user11: so you’re there for balde?

user12: i mean he’s in the likes??

user2: i’ve been sayin this for a while now

yourbestfriend: so you didn’t take me w you?? i see how it is

liked by creator

yourusername: IM SORRY 😔

user13: didn’t know you were a culer

user14: what typa photo is that man you’re a photographer?? 😭😭

liked by yourusername , pedri , _ferminlopez and 42,000 others

alejandrobalde: paris ‘24 🤍

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user15: Y/N IN THE LIKES??

user16: well atleast we know who took the first 2 photos

user1: SO I WASNT DELUSIONAL

yourusername: bonita 😍

liked by creator

user1: HELLOOOOO YALL WERE SAYING I WAS WRONG??

user17: oh!!

user18: oh balde better know how to fight istg

user19: MFS IGNORE THE Y/N STUFF BALDE LOOKS SO FINE BRO WHAT

_ferminlopez: creds for the last photo??

alejandrobalde: lo siento

story posted by yourusername

replies

user20: balde took the photo?

yourusername: 😉😉

user20: ah

user21: look who’s finally on the other side of the camera

yourbestfriend: GUAPA

yourusername: 🪞

alejandrobalde: i think im a good photographer

yourusername: hmmm, i think i should stay as the photographer tho

alejandrobalde: if you say sooo!!

liked by alejandrobalde , yourbestfriend , yourfriend2 and 60,000 others

yourusername: photo dump & hard launch if yall didn’t already know?? 🧘‍♀️

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alejandrobalde: yo te amo 🤍

liked by creator

yourusername: y yo tambien, yo te amo mas. 🤍

user22: THEYRE SO CUTE

user3: oh 😮

user23: i love how all the doubters have been proved wrong

user24: barcauniveral really tried but failed

pablogavi: awhhh

yourbestfriend: my faves ❤️

waking up to this is such a blessing bro

anything joão please 💗 i love you you’re my favorite writer

Like real people do 𖦹 João Félix !

summary. spending a warm, raining night with joão was everything and anything you could ever ask for.

word count. 510+

disclaimers. fluff!! + kiss

authors note. for my pooks @joaoflms <3 and thank you anon loves youuu sorry this is lowk ass

The rain splattered softly against the window, creating a soothing rhythm that filled the apartment—aside from the soft music coming from your record player. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, staring at the storm that raged outside. João walked in from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. His hair was still slightly damp from the rain he’d walked through earlier to get inside the apartment complex.

“Looks cozy in here,” he spoke, voice warm and soft as he handed you one of the mugs.

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him with a smile. Your fingers brushed, and you felt a light flutter in your chest, even though you’d been together for months now.

João had a way of making your heart race without even trying.

He eased onto the couch beside you, his body instantly radiating warmth. “Move over!” The brown haired man teases, nudging your knee gently.

Your eyebrow quirks, “there is plenty of room.” Your protests were followed by a short laugh, but João only furrowed his eyebrows further.

“Not if I want to sit next to you,” João replied, already moving to lift your blanket so he could join in on the comfort it provided.

Shifting slightly to make room, he settled in beside you, draping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The scent of rain mixed with your boyfriend’s cologne filled the small space, adding an extra sense of comfort for you.

“You didn’t get too cold out there, did you?” You ask while laying your head down onto his shoulder.

Dark brown eyes found yours and he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips, “No. Not when I knew I’d be coming in to this.”

Raising an eyebrow, your lip curls into a smirk. “To this? You mean to hogging my blanket and personal space?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering across your features, his expression softening into something words couldn’t quite capture.

“No,” He starts slowly, “I mean, you.” Your breath catches in your throat as his words sunk in. He really did have a way with words, always has.

Regaining your composure, you hide your flustered state by quipping, “you’re such a sap.” Lifting the warm mug to your lips, you take a sip of your hot cocoa, hiding your smile.

“Oh, whatever! You love it.” He shot back, his grin playful despite how right he—and you—knew he was.

You couldn’t even argue with that. Instead, you set your mug on the table beside you and rest your head on his shoulder once again.

“I do, I really do.” You admit softly, voice barely above a whisper.

João doesn’t respond. He simply sets his mug beside yours, eases his index finger under your chin and lifts it. Your chest tightens as his head dips to yours, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

He only pulls away for a short second so he could mumble a small, “I love you”, before his lips were back on yours.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @be11ingham @spidybaby @piastri-fvx

i’d like to thank allah, lewandowski, raphinha and lamine yamal for my happiness and for the fact that im alive! i’d also like to thank pedri and gavi for being an honourable mention to my will to live. they are amazing and thank you for making this first half bearable and thank you mbappe for injuring your foot and uhm yeah visca barca

Hi, make one where the reader is obsessed with Cubarsí's arms! (Maybe I have an obsession in his veins)

❦ - biteable.

warnings:: none

writers notes:: lovely arms xx

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli @nngkay

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you swear you don’t mean to stare.

but god, his arms.

it’s criminal, really, how the sleeves of his shirt stretch just enough when he reaches up. how the veins in his forearms stand out when he’s holding his phone. or tying his boots. or breathing.

you’ve become very aware of them lately.

to the point where it’s a problem.

especially because he’s your problem. your boyfriend. the one who always smells good and talks softly and has no idea what he’s doing to you when he’s just… existing.

except he does know.

because you’re not exactly subtle.

the other day, you were watching him fix something under the sink, shirt slightly pushed up, arm flexed, vein popping, and you actually dropped your phone.

you okay? he asked, barely holding back a grin.

yeah. fine. just gravity.

he nodded. then flexed again. happens to the best of us.

you glared. he smirked.

he’s been teasing you ever since.

‘you’re staring again,’ he murmurs one night, lying beside you on the couch, arm draped behind your head.

you pretend to play dumb. ‘am not.’

‘you’re drooling.’

‘shut up.’

he shifts slightly, just enough to make his forearm flex against your shoulder. your breath catches. he definitely feels it.

‘you’ve got a thing for them, don’t you?’ he asks, voice low.

you try not to look. you fail.

‘they’re distracting,’ you mutter.

pau leans closer, smirk barely there, eyes soft but wicked.

‘then stop looking, cariño.’

you don’t.

you never do.

and he doesn’t mind one bit.

Hiii!! I need a bit of angst with Jude, something where he and the reader break up because he expects her to put his career first. But she also wants to have a solid career, make a name for herself, and be someone in her own right. He wants her to be like the other footballers' wives, but she isn’t that kind of person, she doesn’t have that availability, nor would she give up everything she worked for to live that way. This ends up hurting him, and he can’t understand why she wouldn’t do that for him. You can end it however you want, I honestly can’t imagine a proper ending.

Your writing is incredible, you manage to turn everything into something amazing. 🫶🏼

❦ - not enough to keep you.

summary:: you’re jude’s girlfriend and want to pursue a career of your own but he’s holding you back.

warnings:: angst, no happy ending / no ending? (you guys can make up the ending or i can make a part 2 idk?)

writers note:: this is one of the fics where i finished writing and i verbally had to say ‘oh.’ yeah jude is a cunt in this! and thank u for the lovely message at the bottom i love you all sm! 🤍

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed !

you stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your heart pounding so hard it almost drowned out jude’s voice. almost.

‘so that’s it then?’ he scoffed, running a frustrated hand through his curls. ‘you’re choosing your job over me?’

your jaw clenched. ‘no, jude. i’m choosing myself.’

his face twisted, like he couldn’t understand why those two things weren’t the same. like he couldn’t fathom a world where you wouldn’t mold yourself around his life, his schedule, his needs.

‘every other footballer’s girlfriend—’

‘don’t.’ your voice was sharp, cutting through the thick air between you. ‘i’m not them. i never was.’

he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. ‘right. you’re not. because they support their boyfriends, they’re there for them.’

‘you think i don’t support you?’ you snapped, the hurt lacing your voice making him falter for just a second. ‘jude, i have given you everything. my time, my patience, my love. but i won’t give up my dreams for you.’

his jaw tightened, frustration rolling off him in waves. ‘but why not? why can’t you just—’

‘because i’ve worked too damn hard for this!’ you cut him off, voice shaking. ‘do you know how much i’ve sacrificed to get where i am? how many nights i spent studying, how many hours i put in to prove i belong in my field? and you want me to just throw that away so i can follow you around, be at your beck and call?’

he exhaled harshly, looking away as if that would make your words hurt less.

‘it’s not like that,’ he muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the sting behind your eyes. ‘it is, jude. you want me to be someone i’m not. and that’s not fair.’

silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. his hands curled into fists at his sides, his lips pressed into a thin line. you could see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration, the love, because there was still love. that was the worst part.

but love wasn’t always enough.

you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to steady your voice. ‘i love you. but i won’t lose myself for you.’

his shoulders dropped, and for the first time, you saw the truth settle in his eyes. that this was it. that he was losing you.

and yet, he didn’t stop you when you turned around, grabbed your bag, and walked out the door.

maybe he finally understood.

or maybe he just didn’t know how to fight for you without asking you to lose yourself in the process.

JULES DOESNT EVEN REMEMBER WHY 💔

i thought i'd spam you with reqs so you have like a lot of ideas to write idk

please delete them if they're bad or shitty or you just don't want to write them <33

no pressure at all pooks take all the time you need to write the ones you want <3

i'll try to make them like more on the fluffy side rather than romantic since i know youre fasting and it's ramadan for you !!

BYE I LOVE YOU IM HAPPY TO WRITE ALL OF THEM IVE BEEN SO OUTA IDEAS ATP AND I NEEDED THEM DONT DIE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE UOU

october is diabolical (i feel u bro 💔.)

anyways this definitely makes up for the obscure amount of time that took this is yummy it fed me good lord. está es una de las mejores cosas que he leído, DIOS MIOS tu talento está más allá de este mundo😍😍

Hey can you do one for Alejandro Balde where he's childhood best friends with reader. Some angst where other girls seem to come into the picture with his fame but he finds out how Y/N feels and reassures her!

✮ Don’t Shy Away - Alejandro Balde

alejandro balde x childhood bsf!fem!reader

sy: you become painfully overwhelmed by how your childhood bsf becomes swarmed and smitten with his own fangirls, as you become increasingly scared to admit your love.

a/n: this has terribly been in my drafts since oct and im actually ashamed for leaving it so long. i hope this makes up for it though <3

warnings: not really tbf.

the sky hung low with a suffocating greyness, and the wind nipped at your skin as you lingered on the outskirts of the pitch.

he’d asked you to be here.

you bounced on the heels of your feet, your fingers nervously etching across the leather purse in your grasp, scratching at the silk. you felt out of place, like you didn’t belong here, but then again—he asked you to be here.

the laughter reached you first, light and airy, floating across the pitch like the first taunt of a fight you couldn’t win.

there he was. alejandro—swirled up in the centre of a foreign crowd. instead, lavishing with women in head to toe with glam. their eyes sparkled with admiration, their voices like birdsongs when they exclaimed out his name.

that smile; the same one you knew like the back of your hand.

but him? he only basked in it. basked in the attention that he received, oblivious to the way it shredded you, piece by piece—leaving raw edges where your heart used to be whole.

the boy who once made pinky promises in the glow of streetlights, who used to scold you for crying over scraped knees and share his dreams with the kind of quiet fervor that only children possess—he felt so far away now.

fame clung to him like a second skin, and you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to peel it back and find the alejandro you knew.

“this is so stupid,” you curse yourself silently, your eyes magnate down to your shoes. let this be the last time you let yourself be humiliated.

you fumble with the watch on your wrist, clocking down the minutes that had you foolishly stood here, waiting. twenty-nine minutes.

it was pointless in waiting here still; you weren’t going to watch the clock tick to thirty as your self respect was slipping.

“hey,” balde called out, jogging to catch up to you, “your leaving so soon?”

when you didn’t turn around, he stopped you in your tracks by kneading his hand into your shoulder blade to prevent you from moving.

“alright party pooper, what’s with the rush? do you not wanna talk to me tonight or something?” he laughed, that same, familiar sense of humour creeping through in every worse moment.

with his help, you spun round, and instantly locked with his eyes. “what’s with the pout chica? im here, now, talk to me.”

“what’s there to talk about ale?” you inquire, brushing his hand from your shoulder. “you asked me to be here.”

“and you came,” alejandro pointed out with a grin, as if that alone made it better. “so i was thinking, if you wanted to stop by tonight.”

the way he said it, like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour entertaining other women whilst you stood around like an idiot.

you wanted to say yes. you wanted to just forget the hurt and walk away with him. but after tonight, after feeling like an insignificant background character, you didn’t have the strength to go.

“i’m just not feeling it today,” you whispered, avoiding eye contact. “sorry.”

“c’mon,” giving you playful jabs to your arm, “what’s the gloom? when do you ever reject me?”

there was a pause of silence. before you sighed, locking your hands behind your back. “it’s nothing.”

his grin faltered, his eyes examining your body language. “nada, no, see—now i know your lying.”

“just let it go ale.” you said, stepping back.

his teasing dropped almost instantly. “your upset? mad? definitely not happy,” he muttered the final words under his breath. “nervous?”

you grumble, crossing your arms. “seriously?”

he tilted his head slightly, examining your face carefully. “are you on your perio—?”

“no balde!” you finally snapped, which made his head instantly recoil back up. you couldn’t keep the anger from breaking through, even if you tried. “are you not aware of what you’ve just done?”

his expression stays blank, and if anything, he looks more shocked at your outburst than he does concerned. and that, more than anything, made the fire in you burn hotter.

“so your gonna stand there, mute, and act oblivious?!” you eventually screech, having no regard for who was listening. “as you always do i expect.”

“qué i don’t—”

“no you never do. do you ale?” you spit, as he pushes you into a more secluded area underneath the tunnel; away from prying eyes.

“look,” he sighs softly, “can you explain it to me rather than screaming in my face?”

“you dont deserve my explanation,” you mutter, feeling the sting of tears at the brim of your eyes.

your throat burned, the fury dissolving, leaving only a raw, aching pain in its wake. if you didn’t leave now, it would only make you cry, and you couldn’t let that happen.

not after defending yourself so promptly.

you turned away again, ready to walk off before you lost whatever shred of dignity you had left. but ale was too quick, wrapping his hand around you wrist before you had the chance.

“why do you keep pushing me away?” ale’s voice dropped an octave low, almost shameful. “im just trying to help you.”

with a slow twist back around, you met his gaze with an expression he could quite decipher.

the conflict of hurt and frustration clear in your eyes made his grip tighten, feeling the desperation in his fingers.

“maybe i don’t need your help!” you exclaim, the contradicting nature between his words and actions making your eyes burn. “not now.”

“what do you mean not now?”

“isn’t it clear?” you shake your head, “can you really not see it… how i truly feel?”

“how you feel? no i didn’t even recog—”

you scoffed, pulling your wrist away. “exactly.”

balde exhaled through his nose, raking his fingers through his hair. “what’s this about huh? you could of just told me you didn’t wanna come over y/n.”

“its not that,” you huff, staring at your shoes.

“then what is it?” alejandro crouches slightly to look at your face, bringing his thumb under your chin.

when you didn’t reply to him, he carried on.

“please, whatever it is, i would rather us talk it out than you hating me for something i’ve done.” and this time, his tone carried sincerity.

not like before, where it was all light and jovial, like he thought everything was just a joke. but instead, something that said he truly cared.

biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to keep your composure. “you spent thirty minutes surrounded by them..”

the guilt in his eyes were immediate; the footballers shoulders dropped in regret.

“..and i stood there like a fool, waiting for you.”

you shuffled your feet against the concrete, finally bringing up the courage to look him in the eyes. “i didn’t have to come.”

“i know,” he replied—weak.

the words echoed in the tranquil air, closing in on you both as neither of you had the fight to say anything.

“i messed up,” he finally admitted, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i should’ve been with you. i should’ve seen you standing there.”

almost as a reflex, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes to savour this moment if it wasn’t real. you wanted to trust that it was real.

“hey, im being serious y/n. for the first time ever.”

your lips parted in protest, your heart racing at the proximity as he pressed his forehead against yours.

the closeness, the way his breath fanned over your skin—it was everything you’d spent years yearning for, but never daring to confront.

“trust me when i say this,” he pulled back, brushing a stray hair from your face, “i don’t want anybody else.”

you gulped thickly, his words playing strings with your heart. why did he wait for so long to say it?

“you say that now,” you whisper, defeated. “but what about tomorrow? or even weeks from now, when your surrounded by them?”

his brows furrowed, eyes dark with something unreadable. then, as if making a decision right then and there, he took your hands in his.

“there won’t be a next time,” he promised, his thumbs tracing soft circles over your skin. “i don’t care about them, nor the attention, the cameras, the noise—it all means nothing without you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected, knocking the air from your lungs.

“i love you, nena. not them. not this life. you.”

your lips trembled, he was already pulling you in, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“i know i don’t deserve an answer right now,” he murmured against your skin. “but let me prove it to you, okay?”

a shuddered breath left you, your fingers gripping the front of his jacket as if letting go would mean losing him again.

“¿me dejarás?” (will you let me?)

you didn’t know what the future would hold, but for now, in this moment, you needed to let go of the fear. to let yourself trust him, fully.

“yeah,” you nodded, falling into the urge to rest your chin on his shoulder—your resolve finally melting.

balde chuckled, relaxedly. “that means you forgive me right?”

“i don’t know, your on a test for the rest of this week.” you hummed mockingly, although really, it wasn’t too bad of an idea.

alejandro shook his head disbelievingly, but deep down, he was just relieved that he had his best friend back, or even after this—something more than just friends.

the scrape on your knee had been healed, the wounds of the past, and he was the one who healed it.

Please make on with kenan and how he has a model gf and gets jealous when fans ship her and her co-workers saying they have more chemistry then her and kenan and likes he’s jealous when reader tells him “I have a kelvin clain shoot with __” and he’s just angry and jealous and then you can do the rest

❦ - ‘who’s jeans..?’

summary:: you’re a famous model dating kenan yildiz but he gets jealous when you’re set to model with a guy that people have been shipping you with on the internet.

warnings:: self doubt, idfk atp

writers note:: okay so i wanna get as much done before school starts as possible but still please feel free to continue requesting bc i read all of them as soon as i get them and i love them smmmm! ALSO NOTE TO MENTION THAT THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLISHED LIKE 4 HOYRS AGO??

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed!

kenan never considered himself the jealous type. he trusted you, knew you loved him, and never doubted it, until the internet started saying otherwise.

it started small, fans commenting under your instagram posts, comparing you and your co stars, the models you worked with. ‘they have so much chemistry,’ they’d say. ‘they’d make such a perfect couple.’

at first, he ignored it. he knew the industry, knew how people talked. but then, the edits started popping up. tiktok after tiktok of you laughing with another model, posing together, staged moments turned into something more by eager fans. ‘this is what real chemistry looks like,’ someone commented under one. ‘way better than her and kenan.’

he never let it show. never mentioned it. but the frustration built up, simmering just beneath the surface.

and then, one night, you were lying in bed beside him, scrolling through your emails, when you spoke, casual, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

‘i have a calvin klein shoot with gabriel next week.’

he stiffened. ‘who?’

you glanced at him, confused by his tone. ‘gabriel, why?’

he scoffed, shaking his head. ‘of course it’s him.’

you frowned. ‘kenan, what’s wrong?’

he turned to you, jaw tight. ‘do you even see what people say about you two? or do you just ignore it?’

your brows furrowed. ‘kenan, it’s just work.’

he laughed, but there was no humor in it. ‘yeah? because the internet seems to think you two should be together instead of us.’

you sighed, placing your phone down. ‘kenan, you know that’s not true.’

but he just looked away, arms crossed, jealousy burning in his chest.

you reach for his arm, fingers curling around his bicep gently, but he doesn’t relax. his jaw is still clenched, gaze fixed on a point far away, lost in his thoughts.

'kenan,' you murmur, shifting closer to him, your thigh brushing against his under the covers. 'look at me.'

he hesitates before finally meeting your eyes, and the frustration there twists something in your chest. he looks vulnerable beneath the anger, and that vulnerability makes your heart ache.

'i don’t care what they say,' you say softly, your fingers tracing slow circles on his arm. 'they don’t know us. they see a picture, a video, and think they understand. but they don’t.'

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. 'yeah, but it’s everywhere. i open my phone and it’s just… him. you. people saying you should be with him instead of me. like i’m some... placeholder.'

'your brain is lying to you,' you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. 'you’re not a placeholder. you’re it for me, kenan.'

he shakes his head, still not fully convinced, and you sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. 'you know how many people tell me i’m lucky to be with you? how many girls would kill to be in my place?' you pause, lips brushing against his jaw. 'but i don’t care about them. i care about you. about us.'

he softens a bit, his hand finally coming to rest on your thigh. 'it’s just... hard not to get in my head about it.'

'i know,' you whisper. 'but next week? when i’m at that shoot? i’ll be thinking about how i get to come home to you. how no camera or photoshoot can compare to this.' you gesture between you two. 'this is real. everything else is just noise.'

his lips quirk up at the corners, and you can see the tension easing from his shoulders. 'you really have a way of shutting me up, huh?'

'one of my many talents,' you tease, grinning when he finally laughs.

he pulls you into his arms then, burying his face in your neck. 'i just hate the idea of anyone thinking they could be better for you.'

'nobody is,' you promise, threading your fingers through his hair. 'nobody even comes close.'

he hums, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. 'just... promise me you won’t fall for him when he starts flexing or whatever during that shoot.'

you snort, smacking his shoulder playfully. 'please. you really think anyone else can compete with you? have you looked in a mirror, kenan? unfair levels of handsome.'

'you’re biased,' he mumbles, though his tone is lighter now, more playful.

'yeah,' you agree, 'biased because i’m in love with you.'

he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes searching yours. 'yeah?'

'yeah,' you nod. 'so no more jealousy, okay? or at least... less of it. you’re too pretty to be frowning this much.'

he grins, finally fully relaxing. 'fine. but i’m picking you up from that shoot. just to make sure this guy knows you’re taken.'

'love when you get all possessive,' you tease, leaning in to kiss him softly. 'but seriously, you have nothing to worry about.'

'guess i just really like you or something,' he murmurs against your lips.

'good,' you smile, 'because i really like you too. even when you’re being a jealous dork.'

he laughs again, pulling you tighter against him. 'just don’t make me fight a model, okay? i can’t have that on my record.'

'no promises,' you joke, kissing him once more as the tension between you finally melts away.

stop my blind ass confused my alt and your acc and i was like "SAIRA DIDN'T UPLOAD IN 8 WEEKS?" then realised smh

BYE IVE NEVER LAUGHED THIS HARD IN MY LIFE AT SUM HOW DUD YOU MISTAKE US THAT BADLY 💔