The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow on the modest flat shared by Shubman Gill and Prapti Sehra. The kitchen, which could only be described as a mix between a cricket locker room and a fashion showroom, was alive with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.

Shubman, completely shirtless and clad only in a pair of faded jeans that hung precariously low on his hips, was engrossed in the art of coffee-making. 

The sound of the espresso machine hissing was punctuated by the occasional clink of ceramic mugs and the hum of a lively playlist blasting from his phone. 

His toned back glistened slightly as he moved, a testament to his early morning workout routine that had left him feeling somewhat invincible.

Meanwhile, Prapti Sehra, having just stepped out of a steamy shower, had wrapped herself in a rather precarious outfit—a white top that barely reached her belly button, exposing a sliver of her midriff, paired with ripped jeans that accentuated her long legs. Her hair, a tangled mess from the shower, was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun that seemed to defy gravity.

As she emerged from the bathroom, yawning and stretching, Prapti made her way into the kitchen with the grace of a sleep-deprived runway model. She eyed Shubman, who was busy stirring the coffee pot, with a look of playful annoyance.

"Ugh, Shubman, are you seriously making coffee at this ungodly hour?" she grumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.

Shubman, his back to her, didn't hear her immediately. Instead, he concentrated on the coffee with the dedication of a scientist perfecting an experiment.

Prapti rolled her eyes and padded across the kitchen floor in her bare feet, the cool tiles refreshing against her warm skin. As she reached him, she decided to make her presence known in a way that only she could—by wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Morning, hotshot," she murmured, her breath tickling his ear.

Shubman jolted slightly, almost spilling the coffee. "Jesus, Prapti! You scared the hell out of me. Don't you know some personal space rules?"

Prapti laughed, the sound warm and melodious. "Personal space? That's for people who don't share a flat, a wardrobe, and now apparently a coffee machine. Besides, you look like a freaking Greek god standing here without a shirt. How could I resist?"

He gave her an exasperated look over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, if I'd known you were going to be an annoying morning person, I might've made the coffee in the living room. Or maybe I'd have just skipped the coffee altogether and gone straight for a protein shake."

She snorted. "Protein shake? You're turning into a health freak, huh? Next thing you know, you'll be drinking kale smoothies and using words like 'superfoods.'"

Shubman chuckled. "I'd rather be a health freak than have you prancing around in your half-shirt every morning. Seriously, Prapti, you're giving my heart a workout just by existing."

"Oh please," she scoffed, tightening her grip around his waist. "I'm just trying to stay comfortable. Unlike you, who seems to be auditioning for a new superhero role with that coffee-making outfit."

Just then, the espresso machine let out a loud hiss, and Shubman reached out to grab the steaming coffee pot. 

He expertly poured the coffee into two mugs, his movements smooth and practised.

"Alright, here's your morning fix," he said, handing her one of the mugs. "But if you keep showing up like this, I might just start charging you for the coffee."

Prapti took the mug, blowing on it to cool it down. "Charging me? For coffee? Don't you remember how much I've contributed to this flat's rent? I practically paid for half the furniture."

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, is that so? I seem to recall that most of our furniture was from the 'Shubman Gill's Ultimate Cricket Fanatic Sale' and not exactly from the 'Prapti Sehra's Fashion Extravaganza.'"

Prapti sipped her coffee, trying to stifle a laugh. "Well, if you didn't have the taste of a twelve-year-old boy, maybe we'd have some decent pieces."

Shubman groaned. "Let's not start with your 'fashionista' critiques. The last time I checked, you were the one who insisted on having a life-size poster of me hitting a six right next to your Vogue cover."

"Hey, don't knock the poster. It's the only thing that makes this place feel like it has a little bit of class," she said, playfully nudging him with her elbow.

Their banter continued as they sipped their coffee, the early morning chaos and their playful arguments blending together seamlessly. 

They were a perfect blend of ridiculous and endearing, like an odd couple that somehow made sense only in their own little world.

As the clock ticked closer to Prapti's shoot time, she glanced at the wall clock and groaned. "Shit, I've got to be out of here in an hour, and I'm still not even close to being ready. Why did I think a shower would make me look presentable?"

Shubman's eyes widened. "Wait, you've got a shoot? Damn, Prapti, you need to hustle. I'm not sure if the world is ready for you to be late for a photo shoot. They might think you're rebelling against the fashion industry or something."

Prapti rolled her eyes and shot him a playful glare. "Yeah, thanks for the pep talk, Captain Obvious. I'm going to have to throw on something that doesn't involve half my wardrobe being on the floor."

"Good luck," Shubman called after her as she dashed out of the kitchen, the door slamming shut behind her. 

"And try not to set the fashion world on fire—unless you're literally in a flame-throwing outfit, which, knowing you, wouldn't be surprising."

As Prapti dashed out of the kitchen, Shubman glanced at the clock again and, realizing how late it was, felt a sudden pang of responsibility. He quickly finished his coffee, set the mug aside, and ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to shake off his own morning fog.

"Prapti!" he called out, his voice echoing down the hallway. "Wait up!"

Prapti, who had already started rummaging through her closet, poked her head out of her bedroom door, her face a mix of frustration and panic. "What now, Shubman?"

He jogged towards her, leaning against the doorframe with a concerned look. "You're going to be late for your shoot, and if you're not careful, you might just end up making headlines for the wrong reasons. Do you want me to drop you off?"

Prapti raised an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on her lips despite her rushed state. "Are you offering to be my chauffeur now? How generous of you."

Shubman shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a hint of genuine concern in his eyes. "Well, considering the mess you're in and the fact that I'm apparently the only one awake in this place who isn't in a state of fashion emergency, it seemed like the least I could do."

Prapti glanced around her room, which was now a chaotic mix of clothes, accessories, and beauty products strewn about in the frenzied hunt for the perfect outfit. "You know, I might actually take you up on that. I'm in no mood to deal with traffic or public transportation."

He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "Great. Just give me a minute to get dressed, and I'll be ready to roll. But if you're late, I'm blaming your fashion choices."

As Shubman headed back towards his room to throw on a quick T-shirt and a pair of sneakers, Prapti hurriedly picked out a sleek black dress that was more fitting for a high-profile shoot. She tried to comb her hair into something remotely presentable, but the messiness of her bun seemed to defy all attempts at order.

A few minutes later, Shubman reappeared, now clad in a casual T-shirt and jeans, his hair still somewhat unruly but less so than before. He looked at Prapti with a grin. "Ready to roll, or do you need me to do a runway walk with you for the ultimate fashion test?"

Prapti laughed, shaking her head as she grabbed her purse. "I think I'm good. Just don't make any detours. The last thing I need is to be late and have you suggest we stop for coffee or something."

"Deal," Shubman said, offering her a mock salute. "Let's get you to your shoot before the paparazzi start asking questions about your mysterious fashionably late 'chauffeur.'"

They both hurried out of the flat, Shubman making sure to lock the door behind them. As they descended the stairs, Prapti gave him a grateful look. "Seriously, thanks for this. I'd probably be an hour late if it weren't for you."

"No problem," Shubman replied with a smirk. "Besides, if you're going to be late, it's only fair that you have a great story to tell about how you were rescued by a cricket superstar. Makes for good gossip."

As they reached Shubman's car, Prapti slid into the passenger seat, and Shubman hopped in the driver's side. He started the engine and glanced over at her with a mischievous grin. "So, do you want to practice your runway walk in the car? I hear it's a great way to warm up before a shoot."

Prapti rolled her eyes, but there was a sparkle of amusement in them. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to start critiquing your driving style."

"Oh, please do," Shubman said, laughing as he pulled out of the parking spot. "I could use some constructive criticism—especially if it involves avoiding all the potholes on the way."

They drove off into the morning, the chaos of their flat and the unpredictability of their friendship now just a part of the laughter and camaraderie that filled the car.

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Personal Chauffeur 🥰 @shubmangill

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                    ishankishan yes ma'am

username i swear they're dating

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As they pulled up to the bustling shooting set, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden hue over the location. The set was abuzz with activity—stylists and photographers were scurrying around, models were being primped and prepped, and the air was filled with the chatter of excited voices.

Shubman parked the car and turned off the engine, then glanced over at Prapti. She was already fidgeting with her dress, making sure it was perfectly in place before she stepped out. Shubman grinned and shook his head. "Alright, Princess, time to make your grand entrance."

Prapti rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "I'm pretty sure you're the only one who still calls me that. But thanks, I owe you one."

Shubman climbed out of the car, stretching his long legs before walking around to the passenger side. He opened the door with a flourish, a mock bow as if he were presenting her to an imaginary royal court. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Prapti laughed, stepping out of the car with an elegant grace that belied her earlier frantic state. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the whirlwind of the shoot. As she began to walk towards the set, Shubman watched her, admiring the way she carried herself despite the chaos of the morning.

But just as she was about to disappear into the crowd of the set, she turned back and saw Shubman leaning casually against the car, a look of relaxed contentment on his face. 

He was a striking figure—standing at 6'1" with his broad shoulders and easygoing demeanour, he seemed almost out of place amidst the hustle and bustle of the shoot.

Prapti's heart softened at the sight. She took a few quick steps back towards him, her face a mix of gratitude and affection. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her face burying into the crook of his neck. Shubman caught off guard but clearly pleased, immediately responded by placing his hands gently on her back.

"Thank you," Prapti murmured, her voice warm and heartfelt. She tilted her head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Shubman chuckled, his breath hitching slightly at the unexpected but welcome gesture. 

"Hey, no need to thank me, Gorgeous. Just doing my part as your personal chauffeur and unofficial fashion advisor. Plus, who else is going to make sure you don't forget your keys—or your sanity—before a big shoot?"

Prapti pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a grin. "And I suppose I should thank you for not mocking me too much about my outfit this morning."

He shrugged playfully. "Oh, I was saving my best material for later. But seeing you so focused and ready for the shoot, I thought I'd keep it light. Besides, you look absolutely stunning."

Prapti blushed slightly at his compliment, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're such a charmer. But really, I appreciate it. I was a mess this morning, and you managed to get me here on time."

He winked at her, the affectionate gleam in his eyes evident. "Anything for my favourite diva. Now go out there and show them what you're made of. I'll be here, cheering you on like the proud fanboy I am."

Prapti laughed, giving him one last squeeze before stepping back. "I'll catch you later. Try not to cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

Shubman grinned, watching her walk away with a mix of admiration and affection. As she disappeared into the crowd, he sighed contentedly, leaning back against the car. 

He took a moment to watch the scene unfold, knowing that despite the chaos and unpredictability, these were the moments that made their friendship—and, in its own way, their lives—extraordinarily special.

After ensuring Prapti was safely on set and ready for her shoot, Shubman climbed back into his car and headed towards the training grounds. As he drove through the bustling streets of the city, his thoughts drifted to the upcoming practice session. Today was going to be intense, and he needed to be on top of his game.

Pulling into the parking lot of the training grounds, Shubman parked his car and grabbed his cricket bag from the trunk. 

The air was already filled with the sounds of cricketers warming up, the thud of cricket balls hitting the practice nets, and the camaraderie of teammates exchanging banter.

As Shubman walked towards the practice area, he spotted Ishan Kishan, Virat Kohli, KL Rahul, Shreyas Iyer, Rohit Sharma, and Hardik Pandya gathered near the nets, joking and laughing. The moment they saw him, a chorus of greetings erupted.

"Hey, look who finally decided to show up!" Ishan called out, a wide grin on his face.

Shubman smirked, dropping his bag and giving Ishan a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah, had to play chauffeur for Prapti this morning. She was running late for her shoot."

Virat raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, is that so? Chauffeur duties, huh? You sure it's not something more, Shubman?"

Shubman rolled his eyes, his face flushing slightly. "Cut the crap, Virat. We're just friends, alright? Now, let's get to practice before I have to deal with more of your bullshit."

KL Rahul chuckled, adjusting his gloves. "Alright, lover boy. Let's see if you can handle more than just driving pretty girls around."

Shubman shook his head, trying to hide his amusement. "You guys are relentless, you know that? Anyway, I'm here now, so let's get this show on the road."

Hardik laughed, clapping Shubman on the back. "Good to have you here, man. Let's see if you can keep up with us today. We're not going easy on you just because you were doing good deeds this morning."

Shreyas chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yeah, no mercy today, Shubman. You're going to earn every run and every wicket."

Rohit, always the calming presence, gave Shubman an encouraging smile. "Just ignore these idiots, Shubman. We all know you're one of the best. Now, let's focus on the game."

As they moved into the nets, the intensity ramped up. Shubman took his place, the familiar weight of the bat in his hands grounding him. 

He faced ball after ball, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he concentrated on each shot. 

The banter continued, but now it was interspersed with grunts of effort and the satisfying crack of bat meeting ball.

"Nice shot, Shubman!" Hardik called out after a particularly powerful drive.

Shubman grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Thanks, man. But you better watch out, I'm coming for your spot in the next match."

KL Rahul laughed, shaking his head. "Big talk for someone who was playing taxi driver this morning."

"Fuck off, KL," Shubman shot back, though his tone was more playful than angry. "At least I didn't get stuck in traffic and miss half the practice like someone I know."

The group erupted in laughter, the camaraderie palpable. Despite the teasing and the relentless pace of practice, there was an undeniable bond between them. They pushed each other, challenged each other, and made each other better.

As the session progressed, Virat surprisingly stepped up to bowl, his eyes locked onto Shubman. "Alright, Shubman, let's see if you can handle this. No pressure, but I'm not holding back."

Shubman squared up, his stance solid. "Bring it on, Virat. I'm ready for whatever you've got."

Virat's delivery was fast and precise, but Shubman met it with a perfect defensive shot, the sound echoing across the grounds. He smirked at Virat, who just shook his head in mock disbelief.

"Alright, I admit it," Virat said, grinning. "You're good. But don't let it get to your head. We've got a lot of work to do before the next match."

Rohit called for a break, and the team gathered around, grabbing water bottles and towels. As they caught their breath, the banter continued.

"Seriously though, Shubman," Ishan said between sips of water. "You and Prapti are just friends?"

Shubman sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, Ishan. Just friends. Now can we drop it and focus on cricket?"

Hardik winked at him. "Alright, alright. We believe you. For now. But if we see any more chauffeuring duties, we're going to have to revisit this conversation."

Shubman laughed, shaking his head. "Deal. Now let's get back to practice before coach yells at us."

After an intense practice session that left Shubman and his teammates sweating and laughing, he pulled out his phone to check for any messages. To his surprise, he found a text from Prapti:

"Hey, Shubman! I'm done with the shoot. Can you come pick me up? Thanks! ❤️"

He glanced at his watch and realized it was about time. Shubman was just about to head to his car when Ishan, Virat, KL Rahul, Shreyas, Rohit, and Hardik approached him, their faces lit up with mischief.

"Hey, Shubman!" Ishan called out, his voice full of excitement. "We were thinking... how about we all crash at your place for dinner? You know, after seeing your legendary cooking skills. We can keep Prapti company too."

Shubman raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You guys are relentless. Alright, sure. Let's make it a plan. But you better bring something to the table besides your usual bad jokes."

Virat smirked. "We'll bring the drinks, and you handle the food. It's a win-win."

With the plan set, the group headed to Shubman's car, laughing and chatting. The drive to the set was filled with the usual banter and teasing about the day's practice and their expectations for the evening.

Upon reaching the set, Shubman parked and stepped out of the car, stretching his limbs as he took in the bustling scene. 

He leaned casually against the car, giving the place a quick scan. The boys, preferring to stay inside the car and relax, lounged around, some scrolling through their phones, others chatting amongst themselves.

Shubman's attention was immediately drawn to the sight of Prapti emerging from the set. She was wearing a sleek, fitted black dress that accentuated her tall, statuesque frame, and her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders. Despite the hectic day, she looked effortlessly stunning.

As she approached him, Shubman couldn't help but grin. He straightened up and extended his hands towards her, a warm smile on his face. Prapti's face lit up when she saw him, and without a second thought, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Shubman's laughter was deep and genuine as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. His fingers lightly brushed against her lower back, and he held her with a slightly possessive, yet affectionate grip. "Hey, Gorgeous. Miss me?"

Prapti's voice was muffled against his shoulder. "Oh, you have no idea. Today was a mess. But seeing you makes it all better."

As they embraced, Shubman gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek for a moment. His other hand tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. "Glad I could be your knight in shining armour," he said with a teasing glint in his eye.

The boys in the car watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide as they witnessed the display. The usually composed Shubman was showing a side they rarely saw—a mix of warmth and intimacy that left them shocked.

Ishan whispered to KL Rahul, his eyes still glued to the scene outside. "Dude, did I just see Shubman getting all mushy with Prapti? What the hell is going on?"

KL Rahul shook his head, equally surprised. "I'm as baffled as you are. They've been friends for ages, right? This is new."

Hardik leaned forward, trying to get a better view. "Are you guys seriously seeing what I'm seeing? Shubman's practically holding her like she's the last piece of chocolate cake in the world."

Virat snorted, a grin forming on his face. "Yeah, and the way he's holding her? He looks like he's claiming his territory. This is wild."

Inside the car, the conversation was a mix of astonishment and speculation, their curiosity about the nature of Shubman and Prapti's relationship now piqued.

Outside, Shubman and Prapti finally pulled back from their embrace, though their hands remained intertwined. Shubman's gaze softened as he looked at her. 

"Ready to head home, princess? The guys are waiting, and I'm sure they're starving."

Prapti smiled, giving him one last quick peck on the cheek. "Lead the way, chauffeur."

They made their way back to the car, and Shubman opened the door for her with a flourish, the playful and affectionate energy between them palpable. As they got in, the boys greeted Prapti with their usual cheeky comments.

"Nice to see you looking so glamorous, Prapti," Rohit said with a wink. "I hope Shubman didn't put you through too much of a hassle today."

Prapti laughed, sliding into the seat beside Shubman. "Not at all. He was the perfect gentleman."

As they drove back to Shubman's place, the car was filled with laughter and friendly banter. Shubman and Prapti's earlier display of affection became the topic of playful teasing and speculation among the boys.

"Seriously though," Shreyas said, leaning back in his seat, "whatever's going on with you two, it's clear you've got a pretty special bond."

soups rants

so here we have the first chapter wooohoo

they're so asdfghjk

like date already

CHAOS

anyway comments on the chapter

love, supraja