#I still have more to say about them though i will leave it for another day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pbaz7 · 20 hours ago

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CROSSING THE LINE — PART SIX ♡

paige x azzi

warning: explicit language, sexual content

word count: 11.3k

A/N: Alright so this is long as hell 😭. Like I was saying earlier the spicy scene is a little detailed so be prepared for that. If you recognize the outfits I mentioned for their date you know they both looked good as hell in them lol. The comments and live reactions everyone leaves after they read makes my day so please keep it up!

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December 2023

Paige and Azzi had spent the last few weeks navigating the complexities of their new dynamic. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but it wasn’t a complete disaster either. Their conversations, jokes, and banter came back effortlessly, as though no time had passed. But, now there was an added layer of tension in each interaction that they both struggled to ignore.

They had crossed the line, and the memory of it lingered on both of their minds constantly. Laying in one another’s beds all the time or sharing a quick or playful touch carried a tension that hadn’t been there before Halloween. So they were both trying to find their footing in this uncharted territory.

Despite the fact that they both clearly wanted to go there again, they agreed they needed to take time to fully trust one another and build their foundation before jumping into something. Paige had to learn to trust that Azzi wasn’t going to just up and leave, she had to learn how to allow herself to be with someone. Azzi had to trust that Paige was genuinely in it for the long haul, not the old Paige who would get bored and discard her like a fleeting hookup. The agreement seemed reasonable, even necessary. But despite their best intentions, they found themselves slipping up all the time.

One of the first times happened after practice. They were lounging casually in Paige’s room, a routine born out of habit and comfort because Paige swore her bed was more comfortable. Azzi’s leg was thrown over Paige’s as Paige sat up, massaging out the lingering soreness from the last road game. Azzi’s old injury from her time at UMD still had a way of acting up sometimes, and Paige, being a good ‘teammate,’ insisted on helping every time.

“I still don’t get how this keeps happening,” Paige said, pressing her thumbs into the muscle just above Azzi’s knee. Her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she continued to apply firm pressure. “You’ve been so good with your recovery lately.”

Azzi shrugged lightly, her head resting back against the headboard. “Guess my body didn’t get the memo about the long plane ride.”

Paige huffed a small laugh. “Well, lucky for you, I’m basically a pro at this now.” Her hands worked skillfully over Azzi’s leg, her fingers kneading the muscle with a mix of care and precision.

Azzi let out a quiet hum of appreciation. “Mm. You are really good at this.”

Paige smirked, her eyes flicking up to meet Azzi’s briefly. “I’m just good with my hands,” she replied smoothly, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of pride.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah trust me I remember.”

The words lingered between them, heavy just as Azzi intended. Paige kept her focus on Azzi’s leg, but the silence spoke volumes, the air between them a little thick with tension.

Azzi broke it first, her voice soft but pointed. “You tense up every time I hint at us having sex, you know.”

Paige blinked, her hands faltering for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, feigning confusion.

Azzi’s gaze stayed steady. “You know what I’m talking about.” Her tone was light, but there was a seriousness beneath it.

Paige swallowed hard, her hands resuming their work as she focused intently on Azzi’s knee which was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re imagining things,” she muttered. “Maybe one of those dreams of yours was too detailed Az.”

Azzi chuckled softly, tilting her head to the side as she studied Paige. “Am I?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Because I seem to remember you were very, very thorough.”

Paige, usually brimming with confidence that bordered on cocky, faltered slightly, her usual composure slipping. “You’re insane,” she muttered, shaking her head, though a faint flush crept up her neck.

Azzi’s lips curved into a smirk as she leaned back against the headboard, completely at ease. “Right. My mistake,” she said smoothly, her eyes locking with Paige’s deliberately. Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a warmth that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine. “But seriously though, don’t stop. It feels so good.”

Clearing her throat, Paige tried to play it off. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, focusing her attention back on Azzi’s knee.

“You started it,” Azzi countered, her voice light but tinged with something Paige couldn’t place.

Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Fair enough.” She adjusted her grip, her thumbs pressing into a particularly tight spot.

The sound that escaped Azzi was too close to something Paige had heard in an entirely different context. The sound sent a jolt through her, and she froze for a moment, her hands stilling against Azzi’s leg.

Paige glanced up, her pupils now slightly dilated as her eyes locked onto Azzi’s. The look Azzi gave her was steady, unflinching, but there was something in it that made Paige’s pulse quicken. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, and quickly looked away.

“I, uh… I need water,” Paige mumbled, already shifting Azzi’s leg to stand.

Before she could move, Azzi’s hand reached out, wrapping gently around her wrist. “Wait,” Azzi said softly, her tone was calm but insistent.

Paige hesitated, her gaze flicking to where Azzi’s fingers held her. She could feel the warmth of Azzi’s touch, the quiet undeniable firmness in the gesture. Slowly, Paige looked back at her, her expression slightly guarded.

“Azzi…” Paige said, her voice low, her tone almost a warning.

Azzi didn’t let go. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Paige’s face. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Paige asked, the slight waver in her voice betraying her.

“Run,” Azzi said simply, her voice steady but laced with meaning. “Every time things get… interesting…you find an excuse to leave.”

Paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “I’m not running,” she protested weakly, though even she didn’t believe the words.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Then stay.”

The challenge in Azzi’s voice was clear, and it made Paige’s stomach flip. She opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t have the words.

Azzi’s grip on her wrist tightened slightly, enough to pull Paige forward, closer to her on the bed. Paige could see the resolve in her eyes, the quiet determination that didn’t really leave room for disagreement. Then, without warning, Azzi tugged her closer, closing the distance between them. The moment their lips touched everything seemed to pause. A stillness that made Paige’s heart skip before it began racing.

So Paige froze at first, her mind running a dozen directions and a dozen scenarios, but then Azzi’s arms wrapped around her neck, tugging her deeper into the kiss as her hands wrapped softly around the nape of her neck. It wasn’t rushed, but it was intense, as if Azzi was pulling her into something that didn’t allow for hesitation. Paige felt the tension in her chest begin to loosen, the heat spreading as instinct took over and her free hand found its way to Azzi’s cheek as she deepened the kiss.

For a moment, everything else fell away—the doubts, the fears, all the questions. All that mattered was the way Azzi’s lips felt against hers, the way their bodies seemed to gravitate towards one another so naturally.

But as their bodies pressed closer and the kiss deepend, something in Paige stirred, so she broke the kiss softly pulling back just enough to catch her breath much to Azzi’s protest.

Paige’s voice was barely a whisper as she murmured, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes searching Paige's face. “Why not?”

Paige shook her head, feeling the way her mind was racing. “We’re not ready yet Az.”

Azzi furrowed her brow. “Why can’t we just let things happen naturally? We’re in a good place, aren’t we? I’m fine, P I promise.”

Without a word, Paige reached over and unlocked her phone and passed it to Azzi. She watched her closely, her expression softening.

Azzi took the phone, her eyes reflecting her confusion. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Go through it,” Paige urged, her voice soft yet insistent.

Azzi hesitated, a knot of doubt forming in her stomach; she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was behind that request although part of her knew it was absolutely nothing. “I don’t know, Paige…”

Paige’s tone softened, almost pleading. “I swear, there’s nothing in there. It's just... I need you to trust me and see for yourself.”

Azzi sighed, fighting the anxiety that bubbled inside her. Paige was constantly reassuring her, but part of her still feared what she might find. So with a resigned sigh, Azzi locked the phone again and tossed it gently back to Paige.

“I don’t need to see it, Paige,” Azzi muttered, her voice strained.

Paige's now softly pointing out, “You can’t even go through my phone without being scared, Az. We’re not ready, and I want us to be ready before we go there again.”

Azzi’s eyes dropped to her hands, fingers nervously playing with each other. A wave of sadness washed over her, guilt twisting in her chest. She felt torn—wanting to trust Paige, but something in her held back, unsure, afraid of what she might find. A mix of emotions swirled through her brain making it hard to breathe for a moment.

Paige, sensing the internal struggle, moved closer. She gently grabbed Azzi's jaw, lifting her head until their eyes met. Her voice was soft but firm, the sincerity clear in every word. “It’s okay. We’ll get there. We just need a little more time.”

Azzi nodded silently, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Paige smiled, her touch gentle as she settled back into her previous position, resuming the soothing massage on Azzi’s knee as the energy in the room slowly shifted back to normal.

…

Then there was today, a few weeks later Paige was leaning casually against the wall waiting for Azzi to get out of class, her backpack slung over one shoulder as she chatted with a girl Azzi didn’t recognize. Azzi was walking toward her, her pace slowing slightly as she took in the sight. Paige’s easy smile, the way she gestured animatedly, and the way the girl was giving Paige her undivided attention—all of it caused something to simmer in Azzi’s chest.

But Azzi didn’t let it show. She schooled her expression into neutrality as she approached, stopping just short of Paige. Paige caught sight of her and broke into a huge smile, her face lighting up effortlessly.

“Hey Azzi” Paige said, her voice casual as she turned to the girl. “Thank you, I appreciate the support!”

The girl nodded, her gaze lingering on Paige for just a second too long before walking away. Azzi’s eyes followed her briefly, her jaw tightening.

As they made their way to Paige’s car, she threw her arm around Azzi’s shoulders the way she always did now when they were walking but the walk was silent. To Paige, it was a comfortable kind of silence, one she didn’t think twice about. For Azzi, it was anything but.

By the time they arrived at their empty suite, Azzi’s frustration had bubbled to the surface at Paige not saying anything. She shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary and turned to Paige.

“Who was that?” Azzi asked, her tone clipped.

Paige blinked, confused as these were the first words Azzi was saying to her. “Who was who?”

Azzi crossed her arms. “The girl you were talking to.”

Paige shrugged, her expression indifferent. “I don’t know. Some random fan asking about our next game.”

Azzi scoffed, her expression tightening. “A fan, huh? Right. Because you’re always just casually talking to fans.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paige asked, her confusion evident

Azzi’s voice was sharp, but quieter now, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it out loud. “It means I’ve seen how you are with people, Paige. I know how easy it is for you to flirt without even realizing it.”

Paige groaned, throwing her hands up. “Azzi, come on. She was literally asking about the next game. I wasn’t flirting with her.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath, something Paige couldn’t quite catch.

“What?” Paige asked again, her voice growing slightly.

Azzi let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe you weren’t trying to. But she didn’t look like she was asking about the game, Paige.”

Paige huffed, her frustration mounting. “I don’t get it. I didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re acting like I cheated or something!”

Azzi’s jaw clenched, and her voice dropped even further. “I’m not saying that. But it’s hard not to wonder sometimes… to wonder if maybe you’re getting bored.”

Paige froze, her eyebrows knitting together. “Bored? Azzi, what are you talking about?”

Azzi’s gaze fell, and her voice softened, no longer sharp but tinged with vulnerability. “We just haven’t defined anything. And we haven’t… you know… since that first time. I just—sometimes I don’t know where we stand, Paige and I don’t know if us trying to figure this out is enough for you. If us waiting is boring to you.”

Paige blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. Her frustration tangled with guilt, but she couldn’t find the words to make Azzi feel better. “Azzi…”

Azzi stepped back slightly.. “You’re so used to being wanted by everyone and getting what you want whenever you want it. It’s not like I don’t know that. I just..waiting is a little frustrating and—” She cut herself off, exhaling sharply. “Forget it.”

“Forget it?” Paige repeated, her voice rising slightly. “No, Azzi, don’t do that. Don’t act like this is just on me. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m literally here with you.”

Azzi shook her head, her tone weary now. “I don’t want to argue with you, Paige. Not about this right now, I was just being jealous it’s stupid.”

She turned and started toward her room, but Paige followed her. “No, wait. Don’t walk away.”

Azzi stopped just inside her room, bending over to grab something from her desk. Without looking back, she said lightly, “Seriously, Paige, I don’t want to do this right now. We can talk later.”

Paige’s frustration was boiling over. She hated the weight in Azzi’s voice, hated how the words stuck in her own throat. She didn’t know how to explain herself, how to make Azzi see that there was nothing else—no one else—that mattered to her. That waiting for Azzi didn’t bother her.

Before she could think twice about it, Paige crossed the room in two quick strides. Without hesitation she grabbed Azi’s arm, softly spinning her around. Before either of them could speak, Paige’s lips crashed against Azzi’s. The kiss was full of frustration, need, and every unspoken word between them.

For a moment, Azzi froze, caught off guard, but then her body melted into Paige’s. Her hands clenching the fabric of Paige’s shirt pulling her closer as she kissed her back with just as much intensity. The argument dissolved between them, replaced by something much more raw.

Paige pulled Azzi backwards, guiding her with each step. Their lips never parted, each kiss growing deeper and more desperate as each of them let out their frustration at their situation. Paige barely registered the edge of the bed hitting the back of her knees before she fell onto it, Azzi following instantly. Azzi straddled her, her hands gripping Paige’s shirt tightly as their mouths locked in a rhythm that burned away their anger and replaced it with pure desire.

Paige groaned into Azzi’s mouth as Azzi rolled her hips into Paige’s pressing their bodies closer, the kiss growing heavier with every second. Paige’s hands instinctively wrapped firmly around Azz’s waist, trying to steady herself but pull Azzi closer at the same time. The touch seemed to encourage Azzi who broke from Paige’s lips and began trailing urgent kisses down her neck.

Paige’s breath hitched, her head tilting back as a shiver ran through her. “Fuck Azzi–” she whispered, her voice caught between a desperate plea and a low moan.

At the sound of this Azzi froze. Her lips hovered over Paige’s skin, the weight of the moment crashing down on her. Slowly Azzi pulled back, her breathing uneven as she propped herself up slightly with a hand on Paige’s chest, her dark eyes clouded with something indecipherable.

Paige lay beneath her, her blue eyes dark with pure desire but also something softer—a quiet vulnerability that tugged at Azzi’s chest, that made Azzi want to just say forget it. But Azzi sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose between her fingers before climbing off of Paige entirely.

The abruptness of the movement made Paige sit up on her elbows, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Azzi,” she started, her voice hesitant, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Azzi shook her head, cutting her off gently. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Paige watched her closely, but her heart clenched when she saw Azzi grab her gym bag. A sudden panic flared within her. Paige scrambled to her feet, her voice pitching higher. “Where are you going?”

Azzi slung the bag over her shoulder, glancing at Paige with a calmness that didn’t match the rising tension in Paige’s chest. “I’m going to the gym.”

Paige’s stomach twisted. Azzi’s response was completely rational, but it didn’t stop the surge of panic that overtook her. She stepped forward, her voice shaky. “Azzi, wait. Please don’t go.”

Azzi’s expression softened already knowing what was going through Paige’s head. “Paige—”

“I’m sorry,” Paige interrupted, her words tumbling out. “I didn’t mean to push—I don’t know why I did that. Just, don’t go. Please.”

Azzi exhaled, the weight of Paige’s fear pressing down on her. “You don’t need to apologize,” she said softly, stepping closer, her voice dripping with warmth. “It’s not what you think. I’m not leaving. I just need to clear my head, okay?

But Paige’s unease was written all over her face. Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips parted as if to plead further. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But you’re walking out. You’re just…leaving. And what if–”

Azzi sighed again, cutting her off gently but firmly, before dropping her bag and stepping forward grabbing Paige’s hand. She led her to sit down on the edge of the bed. Azzi knelt in front of her, placing her hands gently on Paige’s knees.

“Paige,” she started, her voice firm but tender. Paige tried to interrupt, shaking her head, but Azzi caught her face in her hands, making her look directly at her.

“Listen to me,” Azzi said, her voice steady. “I’m not leaving. Baby, I promise you, I’m not leaving you.”

Paige’s breath hitched, the emotions swirling in her chest almost too much to bear. “But you’re going to the gym,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “And I–I don’t know, it feels like…like you’re leaving because I messed up, and I–”

“Hey. I’m just going to the gym,” Azzi cut in gently, her thumbs brushing over Paige’s cheeks. “You didn’t mess up. This isn’t about that. We were arguing about something that doesn’t even matter, and I just need a little time to clear my head. That’s all. I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t want this to spiral. We both just need a little time to settle and calm down.”

Paige blinked, her mind beginning to grasp Azzi’s words. Slowly, she nodded, the realization dawning on her as her breathing steadied. “You promise?”

Azzi smiled softly, letting her hands linger on Paige’s cheeks for a moment whispering “I promise P,” before she pulled back. She slowly stood and grabbed her phone and gym bag again, heading toward the door. But as she reached the threshold, she glanced back at Paige, noticing the way her mind still seemed to race, her unease still faintly visible.

Azzi hesitated for a moment before walking back to her. She bent down in front of Paige again, her brown eyes warm as they met Paige’s. “Paige I promise you I’ll be back. I was being irrational and I just need a little time to think baby.”

Paige nodded again, her lips quirking into the faintest smile at the word ‘baby.’

Then, Azzi leaned in and kissed Paige—softly, gently, with a tenderness that melted away the last of Paige’s fears.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige managed a small smile, her chest feeling a little lighter. “Okay,” she whispered.

Azzi gave her one last reassuring look before standing and heading out, the door clicking softly behind her. This time, when Azzi walked out, Paige didn’t panic. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing her lips as she continued to smile faintly. Her heart settled as her mind finally began to quiet.

Later that night, Azzi returned to the suite with a steaming bag of Noodles & Company and a shirley temple. The soft glow from the TV lit up Paige’s face as she sat with her legs spread on the couch, her headset slightly askew as she focused on her game of Fortnite yelling about who knows what. When Paige looked up and saw Azzi standing there, her smile was radiant—so pure and full of warmth that Azzi swore she’d never forget it as it made her heart skip a beat.

“I’m back,” Azzi said softly, holding up the food.

Ice, sprawled on the armchair groaned dramatically, flicking a chip at Azzi. “I see how it is–bring noodles for Paige but nothing for me. Your favorite child”

Azzi laughed, her eyes never leaving Paige. “You can have what I got for myself,” she teased, handing Ice the bottle of water with a smirk.

Ice rolled her eyes. “You’re such a simp.”

Paige chuckled at that, but Azzi didn’t care. With a soft smile, she walked over and plucked Paige’s headset off her head.

“Hey!” Paige protested, reaching for it, but Azzi was already tugging her to her feet.

“Time to take a break,” Azzi said, her voice playful but firm.

“One more game,” Paige whined, her lips jutting into a pout.

Azzi shook her head, laughing. “Nope. My room. Now.”

Paige huffed but followed Azzi willingly, shooting a teasing glance at Ice, who muttered something about third-wheeling and how they never feed their child as they disappeared into Azzi’s room.

Once inside, Azzi set the food on her desk, but Paige crossed her arms, staring her down. “You’re eating some of this,” she insisted.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I brought it for you, you know.”

“And I’m sharing it with you,” Paige said, already opening the box and poking around with a fork. “Sit.”

Azzi chuckled, stepping back and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a grin. Paige sat on the bed beside her, the container of noodles in her hand. She held out a forkful of noodles, her gaze locked on Azzi’s as she leaned in a little closer.

“Really?” Azzi asked, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“Really,” Paige replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Azzi sighed but leaned forward, letting Paige feed her. They laughed as Paige made a show of wiping a stray noodle from Azzi’s chin, her touch lingering just a second too long.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not being subtle, you know.”

Paige grinned, giving her a playful shrug. “I’m just making sure you don’t go hungry.”

Azzi laughed softly, her hand brushing over Paige’s, lingering just for a second. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might start getting other ideas about where this night is going.”

Paige's smile widened, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “Oh, trust me, there’s plenty more where that came from. ”

This statement makes Azzi raise her eyebrow at the blonde sitting in front of her.

Paige just laughs, shaking her head as she takes a bite of her food. “Get your head out of the gutter, we’re watching Kyrie highlights.”

This immediately makes Azzi groan.

They continued eating as the quiet settled around them, neither of them noticing how natural it all felt—how their earlier tension had dissolved into something lighter, softer.

As Paige scooped up another bite of noodles and tried to offer it to her, Azzi caught her wrist gently, stopping her. Paige looked at her, confused.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Azzi said softly, her brown eyes filled with admiration.

Paige’s cheeks flushed, her lips twitching into a shy smile. “I think you’re pretty amazing too.”

Azzi leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

Paige shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve the world, Azzi.”

They continued eating, sharing the container of noodles as a comfortable quiet settled between them. Every now and then, Paige would sneak a bite in Azzi’s direction, insisting she eat more despite Azzi’s protests. Paige was adamant, though, grinning as she held out another forkful until Azzi rolled her eyes and relented, letting out a playful sigh of defeat.

When Paige reached for her shirley temple, Azzi playfully made a grab for it, earning a sharp glare and a dramatic clutch of the cup from Paige. “Don’t even think about it this is where I draw the line,” Paige warned, her tone light but firm, causing Azzi to laugh, her head shaking at Paige’s possessiveness over the drink.

The quiet moments stretched between them, filled with warmth and contentment. As Paige leaned back against the headboard, her mind felt unusually calm. The endless worries, the fears that usually gnawed at her, were nowhere to be found. Azzi’s presence anchored her—a steady, quiet reassurance she hadn’t realized she’d needed until now.

Azzi, meanwhile, watched Paige smile and laugh, her heart swelling with an emotion she hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel until now. She could see it in the way Paige looked at her, in the easy way Paige seemed to settle into their shared space. Paige being at home waiting for her. This wasn’t fleeting; it wasn’t temporary. Paige wasn’t going anywhere.

As Paige set the empty container aside, she leaned back against the headboard, a thoughtful look crossing her face. Out of nowhere, she broke the silence. “Let me take you on a date,” she said, her voice casual, as if she were suggesting they go for a walk.

Azzi blinked, slightly caught off guard. “A date?” she repeated, her tone curious, as if needing to clarify what she’d just heard.

“Yeah,” Paige said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why not?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Paige, you’ve never been on a date in your life,” she teased, the corners of her lips lifting into a smirk.

Paige grinned, unfazed. “Then you can be my first. It’ll just be dinner. That’s what people do on first dates, right?”

Azzi couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, a warm sound that filled the room. “Sure, P,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s earnest expression. “You can take me on a date.”

“Perfect,” Paige said, her grin widening. “Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?” Azzi repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “What if I’m busy?”

Paige tilted her head, giving Azzi a pointed look. “We have the same schedule. You’re free.”

Azzi playfully scoffed, crossing her arms. “Fine, tomorrow,” she said, her lips curling into an amused smile. “But don’t think this means I’m easy to impress.”

Paige leaned closer, her confidence never wavering. “Oh, I don’t need to impress you,” she teased, her voice dropping just enough to send a slight shiver through Azzi. “You’re already impressed by everything I do.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, unable to hide her smile.

“Ridiculous enough for you to go on a date with me,” Paige shot back, settling back into the pillows with a triumphant grin.

…

The next night rolled around, and Paige found herself standing outside the door of her own suite, a bouquet of flowers in her hand. She’d insisted that if this was going to be a real date, she had to pick Azzi up properly. So to make it authentic, she’d gotten ready in Nika’s room, leaving Azzi to prepare in the suite they shared.

Now, as she stood there, her nerves betrayed her usual confidence. Paige wiped her hands on her pants and took a steadying breath, the flowers trembling slightly in her grip. When the door finally opened, any composure she’d mustered vanished.

Azzi stood before her in a matching hot pink set: shorts and a blazer-like jacket that hung open to reveal an extremely cropped black shirt underneath, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit framed her toned stomach perfectly, her belly piercing catching the light, while the silver heart necklace Paige had given her rested against her skin.

Paige’s breath hitched, her words disappearing entirely as she stared. Azzi, blushing ever so slightly under the weight of Paige’s gaze, let out a soft laugh. “Do you like it?” she teased, her voice laced with a hint of shyness despite her confident appearance.

Paige finally snapped her mouth shut, her lips curving into a goofy smile. “Woah… yeah…you look amazing, Azzi,” she managed, her voice quieter than usual.

Then she remembered the flowers still in her hand and thrust them forward a little awkwardly. “These are for you.”

Azzi’s smile softened, her brown eyes sparkling as she took the bouquet. “Thank you,” she said warmly, clearly charmed by how flustered Paige was—a rarity for the usually self-absorbed blonde.

Azzi turned and walked back into the suite to find a vase for the flowers. Paige stayed rooted in place, still lingering by the doorway. Her gaze followed Azzi as the other girl moved effortlessly, her perfume lingering in the air where she had stood. Paige exhaled slowly, her heart pounding as she realized how completely Azzi had captivated her.

As Azzi walked back toward the door, her eyes flickered over Paige, taking in every detail. Paige had her hair down, slightly wavy—just the way Azzi liked it—and was wearing a knitted cardigan adorned with delicate flowers and a white shirt underneath it. Her patchwork blue jeans, with their various shades of denim, added a casual yet stylish touch that somehow made her look a little too good in Azzi’s eyes.

Azzi’s gaze lingered as she raked her eyes over Paige’s figure, a subtle appreciation shining in her expression. Paige, noticing this, seemed to regain her usual confidence. The nervous energy from earlier faded, replaced by a smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips.

“What?” Paige teased, her voice low and playful as she tilted her head. “You already eye fucking me, and we haven’t even left yet?”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard by Paige’s sudden shift in demeanor, but her cheeks warmed as she laughed softly. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she shot back, brushing past Paige and bumping her shoulder lightly.

Paige chuckled, stepping aside to let Azzi pass, but her smirk only deepened. “Come on,” she said, holding out her hand for Azzi to take. “Let’s get this date started before you decide you can’t wait.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that crept across her face as she slipped her hand into Paige’s. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t already decided.”

…

When they arrived at the restaurant, Paige made a point to pull Azzi’s seat out for her, earning a soft, amused smile. After ensuring Azzi was comfortably seated, Paige settled into her own chair, her fingers lightly drumming on the table.

Azzi noticed the subtle nervous energy radiating from Paige and leaned forward, her smile warm and reassuring. “You know you don’t need to be nervous, right? It’s just us. We’ve had dinner together hundreds of times.”

Paige, not one to admit she was rattled, plastered on a confident grin. “Psh, nervous? Me? I’ve got this in the bag,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively, though her knee bouncing under the table told a different story.

Azzi tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re such a liar. You’re literally fidgeting right now.”

Paige stilled her hands and raised a brow. “Okay, first of all, I’m not fidgeting. I’m just... uh, practicing my reflexes. Athletes do that, you know. Second, this is going to be the best date you’ve ever been on, so sit back and enjoy, Ms. Fudd.”

Azzi chuckled, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Paige smirked, relaxing slightly as they fell into their usual rhythm. The conversation shifted to light teasing like always

Azzi grinned as Paige described an admittedly clumsy move during practice earlier that week that led to a turnover. “So you’re saying your hands couldn’t keep up, huh?” Azzi teased, her voice dropping just enough to add a layer of meaning.

Paige rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Not everyone has your freakishly perfect coordination, Az.”

“Good thing I remember you being pretty coordinated when it actually counts…” Azzi replied smoothly, her voice low and full of suggestion.

Paige froze mid-breath, her jaw dropping open as her brain scrambled to process Azzi’s words.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk wide as she watched Paige’s stunned expression. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Before Paige could even think of a response, the waiter approached their table, her attention immediately drawn to Paige. With a charming smile, she addressed Paige warmly, completely ignoring Azzi.

Paige, however, didn’t even notice the waiter’s presence. Her wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Azzi, her expression a mix of desire, admiration, and pure shock.

Azzi glanced at the waiter, then back at Paige, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. “Earth to Paige,” she said teasingly, lightly kicking her under the table.

Paige blinked, finally snapping out of her daze. “Huh?” she mumbled, her head jerking toward the waiter, who was now waiting patiently with an amused expression.

The waiter gave Paige a quick once-over before flashing a flirtatious smile. “I was just asking, if you’re ready to order? I’m sure whatever you choose will be just as good as you look,” she said, her tone light and teasing.

Paige, still a little dazed, didn’t even acknowledge the compliment, her eyes having already drifted back to Azzi. Without missing a beat, she motioned toward Azzi, murmuring, “Um she’ll order for both of us.”

Azzi smirked at the subtle way Paige brushed the girl off. “I’ll have the grilled salmon, and she’ll have the filet mignon, medium, with a side of the mashed potatoes,” she said smoothly, locking eyes with the waiter.

The waiter gave a quick nod, clearly a little taken aback by Azzi’s effortless command, before she turned and walked away.

Azzi, not letting her teasing moment pass, leaned in and whispered, “You’re so easy to fluster, you know that?”

Paige finally shook herself out of her stupor, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You like making me do that, don’t you?”

Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. It’s cute how much I can get to you with just a few words.”

Azzi and Paige continued their light conversation, the air between them easy and familiar as they waited for their food to come out.

As she returned with their food, her smile widening as she set the plates down in front of them. Her gaze lingered on Paige once more, and she leaned slightly closer than necessary. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked, her voice soft, her tone unmistakably suggestive.

Paige, busy unwrapping her silverware, didn’t bother looking at the waiter. Instead, she gestured toward Azzi. “You can ask her,” she said dismissively, her tone a little flat.

Azzi’s lips twitched with amusement as she leaned back in her chair. With deliberate ease, she reached across the table, letting her hand rest just near Paige’s wrist. She kept her touch subtle, a silent claim that didn’t go unnoticed by Paige, whose posture relaxed slightly as she smiled to herself.

Azzi finally turned her gaze to the waiter, her smile polite but sharp. “We’re all set, thanks,” she said smoothly, her tone leaving no room for interpretation.

The waiter hesitated, clearly missing—or choosing to ignore—the subtext. She turned her attention back to Paige, leaning forward slightly. “Well, if you change your mind... you know where to find me,” she said, her eyes glinting with boldness as she lingered at the table longer than necessary.

Azzi tilted her head slightly, her amusement growing at the audacity of the girl in front of her. So her fingers shifted, brushing just barely against Paige’s wrist now, her touch featherlight but deliberate. Paige’s breath slightly hitched, her eyes darting to Azzi as her face began to flush at the soft touch.

Azzi, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward slightly. Her voice dropped, soft and teasing but with a possessive undertone that was impossible to miss. “Paige, baby,” she murmured, her thumb starting a slow, deliberate stroke against the inside of Paige’s wrist as she looked her in the eyes. “Is there anything you need from her?”

Paige’s lips parted, her breath slightly stuttering as she stared at Azzi in awe. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No... I'm good,” she said, the words rushed but sincere, clearly immersed in the control Azzi was putting forward.

Azzi smirked, her fingers sliding down to lightly intertwine with Paige’s. She didn’t grip too tightly, just enough to make her point as she finally turned her attention back to the waiter. “See? She’s good,” Azzi said, her tone sweet but pointed, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The waiter faltered, her confidence cracking as her eyes flicked between them, taking in the subtle shift in Paige’s demeanor as she was once again completely immersed in Azzi. “I was just being friendly,” she said, her smile now strained.

Azzi’s smile tightened, and her grip on Paige’s hand squeezed just slightly, her thumb brushing along the back of Paige’s knuckles. “Friendly’s fine,” she said lightly, her tone still sweet but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Just not with her.”

The waiter finally seemed to understand she was losing ground. With a tight, awkward smile, she mumbled, “Well... enjoy your meal,” before walking away without another word.

As the waiter disappeared, Azzi let out a soft chuckle, her thumb lazily resuming its strokes against Paige’s hand. “That was cute,” Azzi teased, her smirk widening as she watched Paige squirm.

Paige groaned, finally tugging her hand free and leaning forward to hide her face in her hands. “You’re kinda crazy Az,” she muttered, though her soft laugh betrayed her words.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, her smirk still firmly in place as she picked up her fork. “Well I guess that’s the first new thing you’ll learn about me,” she said casually, giving Paige a look. “I really don’t like sharing.”

Paige peeked at her from between her fingers, her lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Hmm. Wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type,” she said, her voice light but edged with curiosity.

Azzi’s smile widened as she shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about being jealous,” she replied smoothly.. She tilted her head toward where the waiter had retreated. “I just know how to put people in their place.”

Paige laughed, rolling her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “No need,” she said casually. “I don’t see anybody but you at this point.”

The simplicity of Paige's words struck Azzi unexpectedly, and her heart fluttered in her chest. There was a warmth in the sincerity of it all, a reassurance that settled deep in her, and in that moment, Azzi realized how much she wanted to give herself over completely to Paige. It wasn’t just about the date or the playful teasing anymore—it was about something real, something she could feel in her bones.

A while later Azzi was grinning as Paige gave her another bite of her food, making her comment softly, “You know, this is the first date I’ve actually enjoyed.”

Paige cocked an eyebrow, her lips curving into a cocky grin. “Of course it is,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “It’s me.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smile never wavering. “Whatever,” she muttered playfully, but the affection in her voice was unmistakable. She couldn’t deny how much this meant to her.

Paige, with a teasing glint in her eye, reached for another bite of food, offering it to Azzi again. But Azzi raised an eyebrow, giving her a mock glare. “Are you actually going to eat any of your food, or are you just planning on giving it all to me?”

Paige shrugged with a mischievous grin. “You need to eat.”

Azzi glanced down at her plate, clearly making progress in her meal. “I’m eating,” she said, giving Paige an exaggerated look. Azzi picked up a forkful of her salmon and waved it in front of Paige’s face. “Here. You try it. It’s actually pretty good.”

Paige recoiled dramatically, holding up her hands. “Oh no, I’m good. You know I don’t do salmon.”

Azzi made a face, then went for the classic move. She looked at Paige with the most exaggerated, pleading puppy dog eyes she could muster. “Please? Just one bite? For me?”

Paige sighed dramatically, resisting for only a moment. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

But before Azzi could even manage a victorious grin, Paige relented. “Fine. One bite.” She said with mock reluctance and let Azzi feed her a bite of the salmon.

Paige chewed it slowly, her face a picture of careful deliberation. She swallowed and then, after a long pause, gave Azzi a look that was half-amused, half-disgusted.

Azzi was already smiling, clearly pleased with herself. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

Paige grumbles in disagreement as she eats some of her food to get rid of the taste.

As they continued talking Paige was mid-bite when a small bit of mashed potato found its way to her lip. She didn’t notice at first but Azzi did. So with a playful smirk, Azzi reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly against Paige's skin as she gently wiped the spot from her lip with her index finger. As she pulled her hand back, Azzi made a deliberate show of slowly licking the mashed potato off her finger, her gaze locked with Paige’s the entire time. The movement was teasing, a mix of subtle flirtation and confidence that left Paige a little breathless.

Paige couldn’t pull her eyes away from Azzi as she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. When she managed to speak, her voice low, almost a whisper as she simply said, “Azzi please.”

Azzi tilted her head innocently, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Yes, Paige?” she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing exactly what she was doing, loving the control she had over Paige.

Paige swallowed hard, her heart racing as she licked her lips. “You’re killing me tonight,” she murmured, her gaze never breaking from Azzi’s.

Azzi’s smile widened, her voice dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just slightly closer across the table. “I know, baby,” she replied smoothly.

The air around them seemed to shift. The noise of the restaurant, the clink of cutlery, the hum of conversations—all faded into the background as Paige and Azzi stayed locked in each other’s gaze. Paige’s pupils dilated, her blue eyes growing darker under the intensity of Azzi’s stare.

Azzi, fully aware of the effect she was having, didn’t look away. There was a challenge in her gaze now, an unspoken dare, almost as if she was silently urging Paige to make the next move.

Paige clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to pull Azzi closer, to end the dinner and take her home. She could feel her composure slipping away, and Azzi, with that smile still firmly in place, was more than happy to push her further.

Azzi’s gaze never wavered as she subtly shifted her hand, her fingers brushing against Paige's with a deliberate slowness as she let their fingers intertwine, a small yet intimate gesture that sent a jolt of heat through Paige’s body. Azzi’s touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to completely throw off Paige’s concentration.

Paige had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to regain some semblance of control. She could barely think straight with the way Azzi was looking at her. So she took a slow breath, trying to ground herself, but Azzi’s hand holding hers kept her tethered in the moment.

“Open your eyes P,” Azzi’s voice was a whisper, but it carried authority, a command wrapped in sweetness. The edge in her tone made Paige’s stomach tighten.

Paige slowly opened her eyes, finding herself once again lost in the depths of Azzi’s gaze immediately. There was no escaping it now. She was completely under Azzi’s spell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape at all. Azzi’s fingers tightened around hers, their palms pressed together as the world around them seemed to fade, leaving only them.

Azzi’s gaze softened, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her words carrying a mix of curiosity and something darker, something that Paige could feel even before the question left her lips.

Paige, unable to look away, let a slow smile curl at the corners of her mouth. “You know exactly what I’m thinking about,” she said, her voice low.

Azzi’s smile widened, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “Take me home then,” she said, the words slipping from her lips like a secret, a command wrapped in temptation.

That was all it took.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She threw a couple of bills onto the table—definitely more than enough to cover the tab—and stood up. Both of them heading for Paige’s car with a little extra pep in their step.

…

Once they get to the suite, Azzi starts walking towards her room, but Paige grabs her hand pulling her towards her room that’s further from Ice’s, trying to spare the girl.

Azzi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest as she lets Paige lead her. As they step into Paige’s room she wastes no time shutting the door behind them and locking it.

Paige flicks on her led lamp to lightly illuminate the room and before she can gather her bearings, Azzi’s hands were on her, as she gently pushed her back against the door. Paige’s back hit it with a soft thud, her breath catching in her throat at Azzi’s confidence and her pulse quickening slightly as she met Azzi’s smile with a grin of her own. Azzi’s smile was a slow, teasing smile–one that made Paige feel like she was already a step behind in whatever was happening in Azzi’s head.

Azzi studied her for a moment, clearly enjoying the way Paige’s body seemed to melt at her touch. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the buttons on Paige's cardigan, her fingers grazing the fabric as she slowly started unbuttoning it. "You always look so damn good," Azzi murmured, her voice soft but filled with heat. "You have no idea what you do to me. How you make me feel."

With each button undone, the white shirt underneath was revealed, the fabric clinging slightly to Paige’s frame, teasing Azzi. The room felt unbearably warm, and Paige was basically trembling, unsure if it was from desire or the intensity of Azzi's gaze.

Azzi stopped halfway through unbuttoning, her fingers still resting on the cardigan. "Tell me…" she whispered, leaning in close, her breath brushing against Paige's cheek. "What are you thinking about now?"

Paige’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them coherent enough to form an answer. She could feel the heat of Azzi's body so close to hers, her lips barely brushing her ear with each whispered word. She couldn’t even formulate a response. She had never felt like this before, had never been the one with a loss of words.

Azzi smiled softly at Paige’s flustered expression, enjoying the way Paige’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she finished unbuttoning Paige’s sweater. With a deliberate slowness Azzi brushed the cardigan off Paige’s shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

Her fingers trailed down Paige’s waist, coming to rest on her belt as she began undoing it as she watched Paige’s every reaction. Azzi's touch was firm but gentle, pulling Paige just slightly towards her, guiding them slowly toward the bed. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Azzi's gaze was soft but undeniably commanding, filled with an unspoken promise that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.

“I want you,” Azz whispered, her voice low and laced with desire. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Paige finally found her voice, her tone softer, almost vulnerable as she asked, “Are you sure?”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. Without a flicker of doubt in her eyes, she nodded, the softness of her gaze only intensifying the fire between them.

Azzi’s confirmation was all Paige needed as she immediately reached for Azzi, pulling her into a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate, their breaths mingling as the moment consumed them. Azzi’s fingers, still toying with Paige’s belt, moved to undo it with an effortless confidence that made Paige’s pulse quicken.

Before she knew it, Paige was guiding Azzi backward the rest of the way toward the bed, her grip steady but filled with an unspoken urgency. Azzi smirked against Paige’s lips, letting herself be pushed down, her body melting into the mattress.

The sight of Paige standing above her, her belt now hanging open and her eyes completely dilated with want was enough to make Azzi bite her lip, her gaze also dark. Her hand found its way to Paige’s loose belt gently tugging Paige toward her. “Don’t make me wait anymore,” she teased, her voice dripping with desire.

Azzi watches as Paige takes off her jeans, never breaking eye contact. As soon as she’s done she’s climbing on the bed, hovering over Azzi as their lips meet again, this time softer but no less consuming, Each kiss feeling like a promise, a declaration as they become lost in one another.

Paige’s hands moved expertly, finding the edges of Azzi’s blazer. With a gentle tug, she slipped it off Azzi’s shoulder, her fingertips brushing against Azzi's warm skin. Azzi sat up slightly to help, her eyes never leaving Paige’s as the blazer fell away, leaving her in the cropped black shirt that clung to her frame tightly.

Paige’s breath caught for a moment as her gaze roamed over Azzi, her hands lightly tracing along the hem of her shirt. “You’re incredible,” Paige whispered, her voice tinged with awe.

Azzi smiles at Paige’s words, her expression soft at the girl on top of her. Without saying a word, she reached up, pulling Paige toward her again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was much more intense than the last.

The kiss grew heavier with each moment, Paige swiping her tongue across Azzi’s lips asking for access that Azzi immediately grants as the world outside the room fades away, their focus narrowing to just the two of them. Azzi’s hands roam Paige’s sides, her touch firm, sending jolts of excitement through Paige’s skin.

Azzi breaks the kiss briefly, pushing Paige slightly back with a playful smirk. Paige looked at her, breathless, as Azzi’s hands reached for the hem of her shirt. With a smooth motion, Azzi pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it aside before meeting Paige’s gaze again who had also quickly discarded her white shirt.

The sight of Azzi like this left Paige momentarily stunned. But before she could linger on the image too long trying to capture it for memory, Azzi pulled her back in, their lips meeting again matching the intensity right where they left off.

Azzi began making soft noises into Paige’s mouth, each sound sending a warmth through her body. It drove Paige absolutely crazy, her restraint slipping more and more with every passing second.

“Fuck Azzi,” Paige murmured, her voice low as she pulled back just enough to begin pressing her lips to Azzi’s neck. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Azzi let out another quiet, breathy moan at the attention she was getting, her hands grabbing Paige’s waist as she tilted her head to the side granting Paige better access. “I think I do,” she whispered, her voice teasing but strained.

Paige’s lips and teeth worked along Azzi’s neck, her kisses alternating between soft and firm as she trailed down to the delicate curve where Azzi’s shoulder met her collarbone. Azzi’s hands slide up Paige’s back, pulling her impossibly closer. “Right there baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking slightly as Paige’s lips and tongue lingered on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Shit you feel so good,” Azzi breathed, her words almost inaudible but thick with emotion.

Her voice was like music to Paige’s ears, the way it shook with every touch drove her to keep going. Paige’s lips curled into a slight smile against Azzi’s skin as she dragged her mouth lower, savoring the soft gasps and whispered encouragement Azzi continued to spill.

“Perfect,” Azzi murmured, when Paige’s lips met her waist. Her voice melted into something low and satisfied. “You’re perfect.”

Paige groaned softly at the words, her hands tightening on Azzi’s hips as she whispered back, “You’re killing me Azzi baby.”

Azzi laughed softly, though it was laced with breathlessness. “Then don’t hold back,” she murmured, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair. “I don’t want you to.” Before Azzi could even process what she was asking for, the rest of her clothes were pulled off skilfully in a quick motion.

Paige’s actions fueled by Azzi’s words, every whispered encouragement and breathless murmur driving her as she finally gave Azzi exactly what she wanted, pouring every ounce of her desire and affection into her touch.

Azzi made sure Paige knew exactly how much she was enjoying every moment of it. Her voice a symphony of soft gasps, murmured praises, and loud moans, echoing through the room without a care for who might hear.

“Fuck baby…yes just like that,” Azzi said breathlessly, her hands threading through Paige’s hair, tugging lightly as her head titled back and her hips moved to reach Paige’s movements. “Don’t stop..please, don’t stop.”

Paige just hummed as she pressed closer, her lips and hands working in perfect rhythm, completely consumed by Azzi’s responses. Each sound Azzi made spurring her on more, her own restraint dissolving as she focused on the girl beneath her.

“You’re amazing,” Azzi murmured, her voice trembling with raw emotion, her nails grabbing Paige’s shoulders. “I need you, Paige. Just you.”

Paige’s heart raced at the confession, her fingers growing more intense as she kissed her way back to Azzi’s lips, capturing her in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Azzi’s laughter bubbled up between gasps, a mix of pure joy and overwhelming sensation at the way Paige was touching her. “You’re going to make me lose my mind,” she admitted, her voice shaky but full of affection, her lips brushing against Paige’s as she spoke.

Paige’s fingers continued their rhythm inside Azzi, as her voice dipped into a tone so soft yet full of conviction. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her words wrapping around Azzi. “Every part of you, Azzi…I could get lost in your forever.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Paige’s voice, her chest rising and falling as she clung to the words. Paige didn’t stop there, leaning closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she added, “You’re everything to me Az. So perfect. I promise you I’m only yours.”

The praise sent so much warmth through Azzi and she arched slightly, her head tilting back as her lips parted. “Paige..” she murmured her voice trembling with emotion. Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s back, holding onto her as if she were her anchor, grounding her in this moment.

Azzi’s gaze was unwavering, her brown eyes dark with passion yet soft with adoration. Paige’s blue eyes mirrored the same intensity, her pupils dilated as she took in every inch of the girl beneath her.

“You’re so fucking incredible,” Azzi whispered, her voice breathy but firm, her fingers digging into Paige’s skin as her fingers curled perfectly inside of her.

Azzi began trembling beneath Paige biting her lip trying to hold onto some resemblance of control, her body completely attuned to every touch, every word, the way their gaze was locked onto one another. Her breathing became uneven, her chest rising and falling as if she was trying to steady herself but kept failing. Her eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but Paige wasn’t having it.

“Azzi,” Paige whispered, her voice low but commanding, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she hovered over her. “Look at me,”

Azzi’s long lashes flickered as she tried to open her eyes but the feeling was too much for her. Paige’s free hand gently cupped her jaw, her thumb brushing over her cheek as she spoke again, this time softer but just as firm. “Open your eyes, Az. I want you to look at me while you finish for me baby.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, her lids lifting slowly until their eyes met once more. The second their gazes locked it was like Azzi couldn’t take anymore as her mouth fell open, the sheer intimacy of the moment causing a sound to escape Azzi’s lips–louder and more unrestrained than she expected. It was uncharacteristically loud for someone usually so composed but she didn’t care. “God, baby right there... please Paige... don't…fuck please don’t stop,” every word laced with need and vulnerability before she’s throwing her head back coming undone for Paige.

Paige smiles at the sound of Azzi's voice as she leans in and kisses her slowly, their tongue tasting every part of each other as Paige's pace slows, just enough to make Azzi's body ache with the contrast. Azzi's breath comes in shallow gasps, every inch of her skin alive with need.

Paige’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile, her thumb still stroking Azzi’s cheek. “You did so good for me,” she murmured, her words laced with affection and pride.

Azzi’s grip tightened on Paige’s back as she was still trying to anchor herself. Her voice trembled as she replied, “You… you’re going to ruin me, Paige.”

Paige leaned closer, her lips barely brushing against Azzi’s as she whispered, “I won’t baby, I got you. I promise.”

The exchange sent another wave of shivers through Azzi, her body arching instinctively toward Paige as she started moving again, unable to resist the pull between them. She looks up at Paige pleading for something-anything more.

Paige notices the way Azzi's body trembles under her, how her breath hitches every time she curls her fingers. Her voice drops, soothing but commanding, "Breathe, baby. Just breathe."

The words themselves are almost a command, but they're gentle, like a touch trying to calm the chaos in Azzi’s chest as it rises and falls rapidly, trying to obey, but she feels the pressure inside her building again, tighter this time. Paige's thumb presses into her as she continues her movements deliberate but slow, a stark contrast to how Azzi's body wants to react.

Paige can tell Azzi’s body is going into overdrive so she starts speaking to her. "Focus on me," Paige murmurs near Azzi’s ear, her voice smooth and low, sending ripples of warmth through Azzi. "Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow." She moves her hand in small, measured circles, pushing Azzi right to the edge and pulling her back. "You're doing so good Azzi. Just breathe through it, baby. Let me guide you."

Azzi's entire body is trembling, her mind racing to keep up with the ebb and flow of pleasure. It feels like it's almost too much, but Paige's steady control-her voice, her hands keeps her grounded. The way she talks to her, calm but firm, drives Azzi crazy, and all she can do is follow, surrendering her body to the rhythm Paige has set.

"Tell me how it feels," Paige says, softly. "I wanna hear you some more for me baby."

Azzi opens her mouth, but no coherent words come out-only the sound of desperate, broken breaths as she forces herself to focus on Paige, her voice, her eyes, her touch.

"Feels... feels so good, Paige baby... I can't-" Her voice cracks, the tension too much to contain, but Paige doesn't speed up. She waits, her touch still steady.

"Good just like that baby. Breathe. You're almost there," Paige whispers, coaxing Azzi through it, her own voice filled with desire and pure admiration of the girl underneath her.

Azzi looks up at Paige, her eyes glazed over with need as she’s straining to keep them open. She trembles slightly, her voice barely a whisper as she murmurs, "P I can’t— I can't take anymore."

Paige’s hand shifts to lightly wrap around Azzi’s neck, gently but firmly guiding her gaze to her eyes, making sure she doesn’t look away. She squeezes slightly, her thumb brushing across Azzi’s skin as she speaks, her voice steady but soft, full of encouragement. “Yes, you can. Just relax baby. Let me make you feel good.”

Azzi nods, trying to steady her racing heart, her breaths shallow as she sinks into the rhythm of Paige's touch. As Paige squeezes again, Azzi’s hand moves to cover Paige’s, her fingers curling around hers, squeezing tighter as she gazes directly into Paige’s eyes. The sensation sparks something deep inside her, and without breaking eye contact, she whispers, "Harder, baby."

The words are a desperate plea, the intensity of her need clear in her voice. Paige’s eyes never leave Azzi’s as her breath hitches and the pressure builds. Azzi, feeling her body react, presses her hips closer to Paige’s movements, her chest rising and falling faster. “Fuck Paige right there, don’t stop,” Azzi breathes out, her voice low and almost frantic. “Mmm make me feel it baby, show me how much you miss fucking me.”

Paige tightens her grip, feeling Azzi’s pulse beneath her fingertips, and Azzi’s body continues to tremble with anticipation as Paige quickens her movements, fingers curling as she moves in and out of Azzi. Paige’s voice is low, almost teasing, as she murmurs, “You’re taking it so well baby fuck, you look so good under me.”

Azzi’s fingers curl tighter around Paige’s wrist, urging her on. “Yes, just like that,” Azzi whispers, her voice filled with a desire that only Paige can satisfy. “Harder, please Paige, don’t stop. You feel so good.”

Paige’s touch becomes more deliberate, the pressure firm and her movements unrelenting as Azzi’s breathing quickens. She feels the way Azzi’s body reacts, every tremble and sigh pushing her to give her more. Paige leans in, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispers, “You’re so gorgeous baby, so perfect…I always knew how pretty you would sound.”

Azzi moans softly, unable to stop the sounds escaping her lips, each one more desperate than the last as Paige’s gaze burns into her. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The air between them thick a shared silence where only the sound of their heavy breathing and Paige’s fingers moving in and out of Azzi remains.

After a few more seconds, Azzi's body gives in, a burning release overtaking her body again as she arches her back off the bed. A chorus of breathless moans escaping her lips.

Paige's heart stirs at the sight as she removes her hand from Azzi’s neck immediately and without hesitation. She leans down, kissing her cheek gently as if she's taking away the last bit of tension that still clung to Azzi's body. She whispers, "God you're so beautiful Az. You mean everything to me," before leaning her lips down to Azzi's, their kiss soft, almost loving.

Azzi's eyes flutter shut, her hands coming down to wrap around Paige's head as she lets the kiss ground her. It's slow and tender and everything Azzi needs.

Paige starts kissing down Azzi’s body, ready to keep going but Azzi’s hand shoots out, gently but firmly stopping her. Her breath comes in shaky gasps as she looks at Paige with exhaustion and a small sight of desire. “Baby…I can’t. Physically… I can’t take anymore right now, I need a break.” She says, her voice strained, the edge of exhaustion clear.

Paige’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, the challenge in her eyes only growing more playful. Before she can say anything, Azzi—still struggling to catch her breath—manages a shaky smile and jokes, “Shut up, Paige. Seriously, just… shut up for a second."

Paige’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll give you a break but I hope you can keep up because I plan on doing this all night,” she teased softly, her voice low and dripping with warmth.

Azzi responded with a quiet hum of agreement, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair to pull her back into another soft slow kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of the night still ahead.

…

The next morning, Paige woke up groggily, the bright sunlight streaming through the window making it impossible to stay asleep. She stirred, trying to stretch, but stopped when she felt a comforting weight pinning her down. Azzi’s body was draped halfway over her, the other half sprawled across the bed. Paige couldn’t help but smile as her gaze landed on Azzi’s face, her soft features illuminated by the morning light.

A quiet laugh escaped Paige’s lips as she realized Azzi was definitely going to blame her for letting her fall asleep without her bonnet, she could already hear the teasing tone in her voice.

As if sensing Paige’s thoughts, Azzi began to stir, a groan slipping past her lips as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Ugh, why is it so bright?” she mumbled, echoing Paige’s earlier thoughts.

Paige chuckled softly, shifting her body to block the sunlight from hitting Azzi’s face. “Better?” she asked gently, her voice warm and teasing.

When Azzi finally looked up at her, a sleepy smile spread across her face, her dimples appearing as her cheeks flushed slightly. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Paige said, her voice soft but filled with affection.

Azzi’s smile grew wider at the compliment, but she quickly tried to hide her face against Paige’s chest. “Mmm, too sleepy,” she mumbled, her voice muffled.

Paige laughed quietly and carefully shifted out from under Azzi, earning a small, dissatisfied grumble from her. She walked over to the window, pulling the blackout curtains closed and plunging the room into a comforting darkness.

As she returned to the bed, Azzi wasted no time, tugging Paige back down and pulling her close but before Paige could settle in, Azzi leaned up to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. Paige’s heart immediately fluttered at the tenderness of the moment, how casual Azzi was about it.

“Go back to sleep,” Azzi whispered, her words barely audible as she rested her head on Paige’s chest once more.

Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and with Azzi’s steady breaths against her, Paige felt a sense of peace she hadn’t ever experienced. Slowly, they both drifted back to sleep as Paige realized she was completely in love with the girl laying on her chest.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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thedeskofaltoclef · 2 days ago

Text

How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

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onehundredelevven · 1 day ago

Note

I love what you did with Toji during y/n’s birth. Could I maybe request one where y/n breaks the JJK men’s hand from the labor pains? I’d love to see their reactions lol I feel like Nanami and Sukuna would take it like a champ but Satoru and Toji’s voice would crack 😂

U ask, I give

---

Chaotic labor room scenarios for the JJK men.

cw. JJK men being chaotic and Satoru's dramatic arse, and broken hands

---

Satoru Gojo

“Babe, you’re doing great—OW, OW, OW!”

Satoru’s voice cracked like glass as you crushed his hand with a strength you didn’t know you had. He winced, his signature cocky grin wiped clean off his face.

“Are you seriously whining while I’m the one giving birth?” you snapped, glaring at him through your contraction.

“I think you just shattered my bones,” he whimpered, blinking back tears like a kicked puppy. “Do you hate me that much?”

“Right now, yes!”

He pouted dramatically, but when he looked down at you, sweat on your brow and pain in your eyes, his expression softened. “Alright, alright. Crush my other hand if you have to. I can survive for you and the kid.”

You didn’t hesitate to grab his other hand as another contraction hit. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

☆☆☆

Suguru Geto

Geto didn’t even flinch when your grip tightened like a vice. If anything, he just smiled down at you with that calm, reassuring presence he always carried.

“Do you want me to get you some ice chips?” he asked, his voice completely steady despite the audible pop from his knuckles.

“ARE YOU EVEN HUMAN?” you screamed, half in agony, half in disbelief at his composure.

“I’ve been through worse,” he replied coolly, brushing your hair out of your face. “Though you are quite strong, I’ll give you that.”

You let go of his hand, panting through the contraction, and saw his fingers twitch slightly. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Only a little.” He smirked. “But it’s nothing compared to what you’re doing right now. You’re amazing, you know that?”

☆☆☆

Kento Nanami

Nanami’s hand was practically vibrating under your grip, but he sat stiffly beside you, not a single wince or grunt escaping him. The man was a fortress.

“You can… let go if it hurts,” you offered between labored breaths.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said firmly, though the sweat beading on his forehead betrayed him. “Focus on yourself.”

Another contraction hit, and you let out a guttural groan, clamping down harder. This time, Nanami’s jaw tightened, and his free hand gripped the armrest of his chair hard enough to leave marks.

“Okay, maybe I’ll need a splint later,” he admitted, voice as calm as ever.

☆☆☆

Ryomen Sukuna

“You call that a squeeze?” Sukuna barked out a laugh, sitting beside you like this was all a walk in the park.

“I hate you,” you hissed, crushing his hand harder out of pure spite.

“Go ahead, brat. Try harder,” he taunted, his grin widening as you gave it your all. “You’re going to need more than that to—”

CRACK.

His smirk faltered, his eye twitching as he pulled his now-clearly-broken hand back. “...You’re lucky I love you.”

“Shut up and hold my hand again!”

“Yeah, no.” He offered his other hand instead, still smirking through the pain. “I’ve got two. Let’s see if you can break them both.”

☆☆☆

Toji Fushiguro

“AH, SH—” Toji’s yell was cut short as your grip sent a sharp pop through his knuckles.

“Toji, don’t you dare yell louder than me right now!” you growled.

He bit his tongue, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Alright, fine, but damn, woman. How are you this strong while pushing out a kid?”

“Because I have to deal with you every day,” you snapped.

Toji let out a strangled laugh, his voice wobbling. “Tch, fair enough. Just... don’t tell the kid their mom broke my hand, alright?”

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sweetflanfiction · 18 hours ago

Text

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 11

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I am going on a little vacay and I'll probably won't be able to update it as regurlarly, but I'm going to try and schedule this chapter and another one. Good news is more time to write :D

A.N. 2: Apparently the tags have not been wroking. If you asked to be tagged and haven't been, let me know!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

It was the morning of the day after Viktor had come to the penthouse and taken a twelve-hour power nap.

You walked into the kitchen with a yawn that stopped abruptly when you saw the three people in the room. Two of its usual occupants: your mother, Wyllah, but also a very tired Jayce. Your eyes shifted between your mother and the tanned man on the table, hunching sheepishly as he sipped from a mug filled with coffee to the brim.

“Jayce?” Your tone is a mix between a welcome and a question, not even bothering to call him by his title.

He mumbled his reply, and you looked back at your mother and Wyllah. They both gave a sad smile and a shrug.

“You left the lab.” You began, trying to get him to talk, and he nodded.

His hair was unkempt, and his beard was starting to emerge, meaning he probably had not even been home yet.

“I needed to find Viktor.” He said, not looking up from the mug. “Your mother found me halfway out of the Academy.”

“I left one of my security guards at the lab door,” Wyllah explained proudly. “No one is getting in unless we say so.”

“Thank you.” Jayce said, still looking at his reflection.

“Did you two argue?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Viktor would have never just walked out of the lab, leaving his best friend behind, and Jayce wouldn’t look half as dejected if they had parted ways amicably. Although Viktor had probably already gotten over the argument, Jayce liked to mull over it.

“How…?” he asked. “Wild guess…” you answered.

He sighed, putting his head on his head, finger digging into his unkempt hair.

“What was it about?” You inquired, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, even though you could also guess the subject.

“What do you think?” He snapped, and you sat down in front of him at the booth, grabbing a cookie from the plate one of the older women had placed on the table.

“The great mystery of Runeterra.” You grinned, and he just stared at you, eyes narrowed. “I know it was about the council shenanigans, but what was it specifically about? Gods know you two can fight about a fleck of dust in the window.”

Jayce looked at you and was about to retort but closed his mouth and looked at his coffee before sighing and reopening his mouth.

“I told him I want to give the Hextech freely to the council in exchange for keeping us there as engineers for it, no matter what. I would rather be there to stop them from screwing up than have it destroyed or sold to someone else.” He sighed. “Viktor would rather grab everything and run as far as he can to keep it safe.”

You smiled softly at him gently and touched his white-knuckled hand on the mug. He relaxed his grip and looked at you.

“You can both be right, you know.” “I know, but it’s not that I want to be right… It’s just…” he scoffed, frustrated, looking at the window. “He has stood up for so long, taken so many beatings from topside, kept a straight face throughout everything we’ve ever been through; he has made his mark in this world whether he signs on it or not… And now he wants to run? It feels like a step backward.”

“You both know what hunger feels like, what a wind so cold that seeps through your clothes feels like in your bones. You both know how it is to have nothing and then have everything.” Jayce looked at you both confused and interested. “The difference is Tallis; he knows what happens when you just wait and watch. You get eaten by the big fish eventually. He stood up so many other times because he knew you’d have his back. But right now both your backs are against the wall, and there will be no sorcerer to help you escape the storm.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Jayce searched your eyes for answers all the while trying to assimilate what you said about Viktor.

“How…?” He asked again. “Your past and my present aren’t that different.”

His eyes widened for a second, and he was about to start talking again when you shook your head.

“Discussion for another time and place.”

He nodded, still reeling but quieted down when the telltale sounds of a cane making its way to the kitchen were heard.

“What do I say?” “Nothing…” you whispered back. “He is your friend Jay. He understands the same way you do…deep down…”

Viktor was also stifling a yawn as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping mid-stride just as you did when he saw the other man in the kitchen.

“Jayce?” He puzzled, eyes still blinking the sleep away. “Hey, buddy! You got me worried there for a second.” Jayce got up from the table and walked towards him, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen…I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times and gave him a nod and a smile.

“Do not worry, Jayce. I understand.” He patted the bigger man’s arm and limped to the small breakfast nook, where you sat.

“Thank you, Madame Rainemour, for the hospitality.” He smiled at your mother, and she smiled back. “I don’t think I had any say in it this time, but you're welcome, my dear.”

He shifted his eyes to you, and you shrugged.

“You looked like exhaustion and tiredness had a child and left it out in the rain.” You paused and raised an eyebrow, conveying you were joking. “No offense…”

“None taken.” He smirked and grabbed a cookie from the plate.

“Well,” your mother clapped, and everyone’s eyes turned to her, you noticing a small grin on Wyllah’s face. “Since everyone is now sort of awake and looking less dejected…I have a plan…” “A plan?” Jayce asked, leaning against the door frame. “A plan.” Wyllah repeated. “Should I be scared?” Viktor asked, and both older women shook their heads in sync. “That makes me scared.” “Alright, you two... out with it...” You motioned with your head for the ladies to sit and talk.

Your mother started to explain what she had been doing yesterday after she left you and Viktor. Esther had put on her detective’s hat and gone to investigate the ins and outs of whatever was happening with the Hextech vs. Council situation.

She found that the council was going to make the decision to take control of Talis Lab and Hextech in a week or so, with Councilor Salo spearheading the efforts, being the one that seemingly had lost more in the rocket attack.

He had announced to all of those who wanted to hear him about the dangers of the usage of hextech by those who wanted the worst for Piltover. The topsiders had clutched their pearls and agreed he was right and that the council, the voice of all citizens of Piltover, needed to seize control of the tech.

Jayce bonked his forehead on the door frame where he was leaning, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to see the beauty of him as a stain on the hex gate’s floor…” you mumbled, munching on a cookie. Viktor looked at you questioningly, and you shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do not despair, my dears; as I’ve noted, I have a plan.”

Between her and Wyllah, the plan was laid out in front of the three of you. Your mother would rally up all of the investors and get them to stop the tech from falling into the council’s hands. It seemed simple and very straightforward, but knowing the Topsiders, there will be money exchange and drama and fights. Something your mother seemed very willing to do.

Both of the scientists had nodded in agreement to whatever your mother had put on the table, and you realized how much trust they all had in each other. The universe had to find a way to make up for you not being here. It had put your mother in their path so they could have her instead of you. It hurt as much as it elated you.

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Viktor asked, breaking a cookie in half. “Well, we will need Jayce’s assistance.” Esther pointed at the broader man. “His place as a councillor and one part of the Hextech team will help us get to certain people. But I don’t think that would be your cup of tea, so you can keep securing the lab and the projects, making sure nothing ends up being shown to prying eyes.” “Are they allowing us to work?” Viktor asked Jayce. “No. No hextech projects are allowed to go forth.” Both men sighed. “I’ll stay in the lab with Viktor. I don’t want to get mixed up in that crowd again…” “Again?” Jayce raised his eyebrows, and you matched the expression.

After a while of discussing and more planning, between calculation and scheduling, your head was about to burst, so you excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked to the living room. You sat on the chair that wasn’t Viktor’s favorite place on earth and, drowning out the noise from the kitchen, felt the sunshine on your face.

You jumped at Jayce’s voice calling your name right next to you.

“Holy blue balls of Hextech.” You mumbled, putting your hands on your heart and leaning back on the chair. “Oh, so that’s where it comes from…” Jayce joked. “Sorry…” “Don’t worry about it.” You looked up at him, leaning your elbows into your knees.

“About that thing you said before.” Jayce took a deep breath. “I never told that to anyone but Viktor, and I know he would never tell anyone…” “Like I said, your past is my present. I was snapped here the same way you were.” “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’m as smart as the other co-creator of Hextech, believe it or not.” He grinned. “How? I have searched and researched high and low to figure out why it happened to me, and I never found the answers. Did he appear to you too? The mage? Did some runes in the sky and…new place, new you?”

You shook your head and looked at your hands. He was taking this considerably well, which made sense since he had also lived through something similar.

“I don’t know how it happened; I was there one second and here the next.” “That’s why you ran to the council room; you did know what was gonna happen.” He frowned, his eyes searching the air for connections. “Were you in the council room? Or in the Undercity?”

“I was in the lab when it happened. All was quiet, and then…boom…” “What changed?” Jayce asked, and you shook your head. “I’m not going to tell you. Not all of the details. You…from there…lived it…you felt it…If I tell you, it might make you do something that would lead to the same path, and…I can’t go through that again.”

He nodded, understanding that the addition of knowledge to a situation can drastically change the outcome. You looked at his wrist, the leather band secured tightly around it and the teardrop-shaped gem encased in it. Stretching your arm, you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. The rune was different.

Jayce also grabbed your hand and turned it palm up. A different rune was carved there, not glowing since you had spent most of the night remaking the star rune in case Viktor woke up. You looked up at him and sighed, his eyes searching for answers.

“I think the technical term is Rune Speaker…” You smiled at him, finding amazement in his eyes.

• ············ •

It didn’t take the group long to have a sort of guarding schedule around keeping the stuff in the lab from prying eyes. Because it was involved in council business, the boys couldn’t work there, but they refused to leave anything unsupervised. And that’s why they had looked like exhaustion itself.

Between the two of them, yourself and some of Wyllah's personal security, it was manageable, although Salo had shaken his fist at having the unknown guards at the door. To which your mother promptly told him she had more money invested in that lab than he could count; she was merely securing her investment.

Your endeavor to enter the orchestra was still in full swing, so you took the time at the lab to write out some of the music you were composing. You had an outline of the piece, but it needed tweaking and cleaning up.

You were not a composer. You hated writing your music. It felt strained. You’d rather just sit at the piano and play something from the top of your head. You were good at that. This was hell for you.

Groaning, you laid your forehead on the cold lab table and groaned. A hand patted your arm, and instinctively you jumped back as far as you could.

“Eh. It’s just me, good old Viktor.” the scientist announced, limping around you and placing a cup of tea and something wrapped in a cloth on the table. “One of those days, huh?”

He sat down next to you and peered at what you were doing.

“Looks complicated.” He said, taking a book out of his shoulder bag, and you look at him sideways, glaring at the man. You pointed to the chalkboard that now has a sheet covering it and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen what you do…” you mumbled. “Numbers. I crunch numbers. Calculation and variants. It’s easy. I see them in my mind. Some are more complicated than others, but… It’s easy. This…?” He touched the clean sheet of music and made a negative sound with his throat. “Cannot comprehend.”

“Remind me to teach you the scale at some point. My mother is catching on pretty quickly. I fear she might get the position faster than me.” “Position?” “I’m trying for the orchestra. I’ve learned that being a stay-at-home Piltie is not for me.” “Piltie?” He frowned at the nickname the Zaunites gave the topsiders. “How very uncivilized of you.”

You both chuckled at his joke, and he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manner. He mentioned the wrapped thing with his chin, and you grabbed it. A small little cake was inside. A round little creamy thing with a slice of strawberry on top.

“Don’t expect much.” He said, opening his book. “It’s from the Academy’s cafe.”

You took a bite out of it. It was a little dry, but it was sugar, and you welcomed the feeling of something sweet in these desperate times.

“Where's Jayce?” You asked after you finished with the pastry. “I thought he was supposed to come with you.”

Viktor took a sip of his cup of tea and shook his head, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Councilor Medarda asked to see him.” He scoffed. “Confraternizing with the enemy, more like it.” “Spending time with his significant other.” you corrected, smiling when he made a ‘yeah yeah’ face.

Silent took over the lab while the two of you both got entranced by your tasks; only the scratching of pens on paper was heard. It was a friendly silence, with both of you sitting close enough that your knees would bump occasionally. Sometimes you would hum the melody you were writing, and he would stop writing to listen to it.

After a while Viktor stretched, moving his arms up to the ceiling. You looked at him and mimicked the movement but stretched your arms in front of you. The two loud ‘aahs’ of pleasure came from both of you in sync, making you both snort.

“I have been thinking…” Viktor began relaxing on the table, his shoulder hunching over. “The other day, you kept having to remake the rune.”

“You noticed?” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping.” “I caught you once or twice. It was a nice gesture, so I kept quiet. In any case, you had to keep redoing it. And well, we have had the same problem with the cores.”

“Vik…” you warned, but he raised his hand, stopping you.

“I know, but technically I am not using your magic for Hextech; I’m using Hextech for your magic. We solved that problem by introducing an artificial rune to the process.” He drew two squares touching on one corner, a crude infinity symbol. “That sustains the power of the core indefinitely. If we work at this the same way we work with Hexcore, your rune ‘push’ simply means you have no other inputs to add to it, and that means that inputs can be added.”

You remembered the rune circle in the council chambers. Going by what Viktor was saying, it made sense; the magic didn’t happen until you had pushed it forward, waiting until you finished the whole rune circle to work and slamming your hand on it to work.

“Could work, but if you tell it to keep going indefinitely, how do we stop it?“ You looked back at him and saw him scratch his neck.

“Usually we have buttons and dials…sometimes an emergency lever.”He placed his head on his hands and looked around for inspiration to strike.

You looked down at your music sheet and rolled your eyes. The answer was right in front of you. You slid the music sheet towards him.

“When you want to bring your composition to an end, you add this…” You pointed to a circle enclosing a crosshair.

“The runes are a language, and languages are fluid. New words are being introduced every day. We can keep adding to it until it works…” Viktor continued excitedly. “We have to test this theory.”

“I’m not going to test something that has a possibility of permanently staying in your lab. I don’t think a never-ending whirlwind is very discreet.”

His shoulders slumped for a second, and then he pointed to a small door next to the front door. That was a cleaning supply room spacious enough for the janitor to keep his cart there, but it was closed off so that if something were to happen in there, it would be contained.

“Alright…Let’s test this out.” You rolled the stool away from the table and slapped your hands on your thighs, watching Viktor move with efficiency.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane characters #arcane reader

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nightplvmes · 1 day ago

Text

*.⊹˚ ZAYNE | christmas eve (christmas special)

── ◜zayne x fem!reader — mini one shot 1.1k words ◜Zayne has to work on Christmas, so she decides to surprise him with their little Christmas dinner. — author's note here | christmas specials from the rest of the LI on my profile

She hated that Zayne worked so much without resting, but if there was one thing she hated more than that, it was he had to work on Christmas Eve. It was her first Christmas with a boyfriend and her boyfriend had to work.

According to Zayne, those days were actually pretty busy. People were slipping off the roofs while putting up decorations or having accidents while making dinner. She didn't say anything when Zayne told her he had to work, she should actually be proud that her boyfriend is saving lives! But while her boyfriend was saving lives, she was home alone… a little sad. She had actually lied to Zayne, saying she had plans with her friends because didn't want him to worry about her.

She had to do something, mainly because she didn't want her boyfriend to spend Christmas Eve alone in a hospital room… That's why almost two hours later she found herself leaving her apartment, a small bag at her side as she got into her car.

The ride to the hospital was smooth and quick, she expected there to be more cars on the streets, but it was the opposite. She confirmed her suspicions when she passed by the waiting room later: there were barely three people. She knew the reason Zayne was there that day was as a precaution, but why couldn't they just ask another doctor to stay? She was being selfish perhaps.

"Zayne?" She knocked on his office door, looked over her shoulder but the hallway was completely empty. She had passed the surgery board on her way there and Zayne's name wasn't there. Maybe he was with another patie…

The door in front of her opened. Her face lit up as she saw her boyfriend with his brow slightly furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked with that softness in his voice he always used with her.

"I brought Christmas dinner." She smiled lifting the small bag in her hands, Zayne let her in seconds later, still a little confused.

"I thought you had plans with your friends."

"Yeah, well… I lied." She smiled shyly, not wanting him to get upset with her even though Zayne seemed to lose his patience… never. "I thought we could have dinner together."

Zayne was silent for several seconds. He knew his girlfriend had preferred not to mention anything and let him work, she did that all the time lately, but she was here anyway. She had cooked something for both of them and now she was here, giving up any last-minute plans she might have made to spend time with him on Christmas.

"You didn't have to do that." Zayne approached her, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She smiled slightly and shook her head, not wanting him to feel guilty.

"I don't mind. Let's eat." She placed one last kiss on his cheek before turning to start unpacking the food she had made for them.

She didn't mind the fact that she had to be there. After all, it was Christmas Eve, they could spend the day together tomorrow, right?

★

Over an hour later, she plopped down into the chair in front of Zayne's desk. She felt like she had eaten too much and now she couldn't move.

"Mmm… I think I'll take a nap on your couch" she whined, shifting in her seat. Zayne smiled at his girlfriend's exaggeration.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist, he knew she hadn't noticed but it was almost midnight. He knew she wasn't the biggest fan of Christmas but at least it was important enough as anyone else.

Zayne's hand slid down to one of his desk drawers to pull out the small box he had been hiding for almost two weeks. His girlfriend was too focused on complaining to notice. He hid it in one of his pants pockets and continued acting normally, clearing his throat to get her attention and getting up from his chair.

"Come on, it's almost midnight." She stood up quickly at his words and looked around for a clock. She hadn't even noticed the time, she only knew that her stomach was starting to hurt a little.

"Where are we going?" She asked, reaching over to grab her jacket. Maybe it had been a bad idea to wear such a thin jacket.

"Let's go to the roof," he murmured, wrapping one of his arms around her waist. He knew how much his girlfriend loved the snow and he didn't want midnight to arrive locked in the four walls of his office where she spent most of her lunch breaks anyway.

Five minutes later she felt the cold air hit her face, she had to narrowed her eyes. Zayne took one of her hands and directed her close to the edge, causing snowflakes to begin shower her hair.

She smiled excitedly. She loved the snow and even though she was sure she would start shivering in a couple of minutes, she loved the feeling of the cold against her face and the snowflakes in her hair.

"What time is it?" She asked turning to face Zayne and looked at the watch on his wrist once more.

"11:59."

She smiled excitedly. Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket to pull out a small mistletoe she had brought from home. She had almost forgotten it was there.

She smiled as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to put the mistletoe under both of their heads, but Zayne was quite a bit taller than her so she could barely do it. Zayne smiled when he noticed what his girlfriend was doing, he didn't need an excuse to kiss her anyway.

"Where did you get that?"

"I brought it from home." She shrugged. "Now you have to kiss me." She didn't have to tell him twice.

His arms wrapped around her gently, closing the small distance between them. She had suddenly forgotten all about the cold she had felt when they had reached the rooftop.

Zayne pressed his lips to hers without thinking, He deepened the kiss, holding her more closely to his body. He took the time to enjoy the warmth of his girlfriend, the way she let him explore her mouth… As if they had all the time in the world.

A loud bang in the distance separated them. She frowned, somewhat confused, she was expecting fireworks on New Year's but certainly not on Christmas. Bright colors flooded the sky for a few seconds before fading away. It was Christmas.

She turned excitedly, her nose had turned red due to the cold and her hair was now covered in snowflakes. The most adorable picture Zayne had ever seen.

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Zayne."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

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spotlightlowlife · 2 days ago

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IMPlying

Season finale was, fine.

What was expected really.

Can't say I didn't roll my eyes at Stolas being gloomy and ungrateful as others make efforts for him, particularly Blitzø but yet again all of IMP come to his rescue and there's not a shred of respect for the danger they put themselves in.

He had a massive nerve throwing down his notebook of 'fantasies' and trashing the office before charging off to see his daughter as if foregoing Blitzø and the modest little life he lives, after all this, forcing his way into Blitzø reality in the first place. All of this seems to imply passive blame.

This ofcourse happened while he was filling in for Loona as receptionist while the rest worked. I appreciate that we went back to work and we meet a dinner with a job request and there's a good joke that the request was to take out her husband who left her for a man resulting in Stolas having his drama shoved in his face.

It would have been good to spend a little more time with the sinner to see that she was in the wrong and for the moral high ground of IMP to be questioned more? Way too dismissive.

For all we know that husband could have been responsible for his wife becoming a sinner if you know what I mean, we don't know what happened to her.

Blitzø and Moxxie having a moment of shared understanding of why this isn't a good job to take on could look like a throwback to season one murder family but them no, it was all about Blitzø seeing himself and Stolas in two men with their children. What if this man had left his wife for another woman, would he be less empathetic? Ultimately nothing will change, if we see them at work in season 3 or a short, what are the chances that they include a clause to not do families or interfere in relationships? How could they vet?

We still don't know how sinners pay.

Also they're working on a holiday and missing out on a paid job because it's too close to home, even though Loona showed empathy to Blitzø and was willing to take in the job herself, which leads on to another thing...

More tell not show

Loona actually wanted to get out the office and do a job with the team.

Since when?

It really would have took two seconds once or twice in previous episodes to have her complaining about being stuck at the desk while they go out, maybe even reminding them that she has a hunan disguise, maybe then we could have found out when and how she learnt such magic and since when did she make friends? Her friends are very cute btw but when did this happen? Bee's sham of a party?

Seeing as she is supposed to be like a moody teen who us slowly growing up and learning to appreciate her dad, complaining more could have served as a reminder that there have been times where she could have had more responsibility. These recent episodes have had a habit of telling us new things out of nowhere after all this time.

Who has been consistent

I read tonnes of comments and the dislike for Octavia is astounding.

What did she do wrong?

She actually did everything right.

She saw for herself that her mother and uncle were enjoying Stolas's downfall, she wondered around her home and found her dad's pills, she came to the correct conclusion that he was always unhappy, didn't like Stella and was persevering for her, what's wrong with this, it's the truth.

He did go on to leave following his fling which he had been enjoying up until recently and we all saw him thirsting over Blitzø or arguing with Stella over quality time with his daughter on the few occasions we have seen her.

Furthermore she rescued Stolas and IMP.

And she didn't blame Blitzø for any of this.

I appreciate that she made a decision for herself and I'm amazed at the massive lack of compassion there is for her.

Her song sucked.

Also what was the confusing dialogue of Stolas trying to call for a month when we saw that he suddenly remembered that he had to talk with Octavia, who has a mobile and was seen with her phone alone, this was after Stella discouraged her from answering it, it wasn't ever confiscated?

And to not be forgotten for being stable

Why did the Millie pregnancy thing have to be so weird, miserable and the clifhanger like she was hiding something?

We watch her casually not get beaten down when it comes to being behind on the bills.

We see the teams lives in danger constantly.

We have watched her admit to liking attention.

We have seen how family oriented she is and dispite her family having no respect for her husband, she remains close with them and has both in her life.

Moxxie and Millie are constantly being pushed as the wholesome loved up couple and yes a pregnancy is a big deal that will change things but this maried couple are supposed to be kinky af and massively supportive of one another, so why was this so much more dramatic than nervousness? Should it not be a bigger deal that this character would seem gloomy? We heard none of Millie's conversation with her only friend sister.

We watched Sallie May's forced drama in the first short where Millie was supportive and didn't let herself be guilted and we watched Blitzø and Millie's (better late than never I suppose) backstory that showed how proud she was at how far they had come. Now she has a big secret and is it her pregnancy? Did she really need drama? Is this the only way she can get a story and we remember her during the break, to have her accompany all others in trauma?

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss moxxie #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss critique

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m4rs-ex3 · 2 days ago

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ok i'm so terribly sorry to be saying this but i'm kind of ok with sorvus not becoming canon canon

i know we were pretty much all expecting something but it doesn't feel like we were robbed; it doesn't feel like we were teased or led along or, ahem, baited. the show absolutely knows what it has but it's not a case where they choose to ignore it and it's incredibly frustrating. something tdp is very good about is not fully committing to something big (ie rayllum proposal) but gives you enough to satisfy + enough to allow for more future exploration (ie rayllum in episode 5 [sorry i have to make everything about rayllum jk im not sorry]). they take every opportunity to show how much soren and corvus care about each other and their chemistry is an unstoppable force.

in addition to the fact that it is by zero means not not canon even if they're not exactly canon, i think it works with the story. even being the world's biggest shipper who cares about a show's relationships pretty much more than anything else, i low-key hate it when a million couples are thrown in your face at once, especially in finales where it's like "ok the day is saved everyone's found love!!! isn't that so great!!!!!! happy ending!!!!!!!!!!!!!" this was part of the reason i was a little put off by terry's existence in the very beginning because it was just like.... do we really need another couple? even if i didn't dislike their relationship. and that's also why i'm so happy with the way they turned out because i love it when there are relationships that just don't work out (unless i have any sort of attachment to the ship in that case fuck you they should have been together forever [but then again if it feels like the only reason a relationship ends is because the writers said so then i kind of consider that bad writing anyway]). in the case of sorvus, i certainly wouldn't have been opposed if they'd gotten together near the end (especially since rayllum, yk, were already together so it wouldn't have felt they were fighting for attention), but it feels kinda right that they didn't. rayllum is the main event whether you like it or not and i'm very glad that they stuck with that. it wouldn't have exactly been fair to sorvus either, would it?

and, of course, this leaves so much more opportunity for them. especially if we get arc 3, but either way there's no way we won't get something of their quest. so this way they get their own spotlight, and they get way more time to develop to that point (which is another reason i don't believe they should've gotten together in s7 because there was just too much going on and even though their relationship has gotten lots of time it still would've been like "oh! ok! they're together! ok! what's happening!")

at the end of the day they are 110% in love - we know that, tdp knows that, and we don't need to see them make out for it to click (just like s5-early s6 rayllum to harken back to that unavoidable comparison), even if it might've been nice

#I AM ONE OF YOU BTW I LOVE SORVUS #IN CASE IT WASN'T CLEAR #sorvus #tdp s7 #tdp spoilers #tdp #the dragon prince #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga

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crowandmousewritingco · 2 days ago

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We Liked Your Vibe

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Din Djarin

Words: 3.4 k

Rating: M (it's mostly smut folks)

Summary: Din promised Dieter to a threesome, and you have caught their attention.

Author: Mod Mouse (I know I'm not dead)

Note: Happy Holidays everyone! This is my gift to @guelyury for the secret santa exchange set up by @dieterbravobrainrotclub! Thank you @sp00kymulderrI for setting this up! I hope you enjoy your gift.

On another note, I hope to start getting back in the grove of writing. With the semester wrapped up and my life in general calming down, I hope to start posting fics again. I don't think it will be as often as I was (I can't believe I somehow put two fics a week out lol) But I'll figure out something that works. Anyways onto the smut!

“Oh what about that one?” Dieter asked excitedly, nodding in the direction of a goth looking person strolling up to the bar.

Din glanced up from his whiskey, the melting ice giving a small tink against the glass. His gaze took in the figure, but he shook his head. “Not that one. Came in with a partner.”

Dieter signed dramatically and slumped over the bar counter. Din slid his drink away to keep him from knocking it over. This wasn’t the first time tonight. “Diiiiiiiiin” Dieter whined. “That’s the third one you’ve said no to tonight.”

“Yes but all you’ve shown me are couples. I said they had to be single,” Din replied raising his highball glass to his lips.

Dieter stuck his tongue out at him before turning his head to survey the room. His dark eyes roamed the space once again. So many people with others. ‘Was no one single in the tristate area anymore?’ The thought crossed his mind and he sighed. Maybe it was just going to be him and Din tonight.

That was until you saddled up to the bar, seemingly with the weight on the world on your shoulders. Dieter’s head poked up as you ordered a shot of tequila. You sprinkled some salt on the crook of your thumb as the bartender set the glass in front of you. Quickly you lapped the salt up with one hand and down the shot in the other, the sting of the alcohol barely affecting you.

Without looking away, Dieter tugged on Din’s sleeve. “What about that one?”

Din sighed, only getting slightly fed up with his husband. But when his eyes took you in, something stirred in him. You were very attractive to say the least despite not trying too hard. The favorite shirt that you choose, more for comfort than for attraction, stuck to you in all the right places leaving Din with a nice outline to admire.

Din hummed which was the most approval he had given all night. Dieter smiled a big goofy grin and practically jumped from the barstool. Though he quickly straightened his outfit to make himself just a tad bit more presentable. Din followed soon and Dieter quickly grabbed his hand dragging the older man over.

You hadn’t noticed them approach, your mind wiring a thousand thoughts a second. It was only when you heard someone say “Ya know we saw you from across the bar and we like your vibe.” You glanced up and blushed as you took in the odd couple. One man dressed in what you would call disaster chic and the other in a very monochromatic but well put together fit.

You smirked. “You know this is a new one for me.”

The messy haired one tilted his head. “Oh and how's that?”

“Well you aren’t a middle aged straight couple who’s only way to save their marriage is to have a threesome,” You quipped.

That got a laugh from the shorter man. “We’re about as opposite as that.”

You raked your eyes over both of them smiling. “You can definitely say that.”

“Oh where are my manners? Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Dieter and this is my tall, dark and very handsome husband Din.”

Din held his hand to you and you graciously took it. The size difference from his hands against yours sent heat fluttering to your stomach. “It’s a pleasure to me you,” Din said, taking interest in your reaction.

“Uh yes um ditto,” You stuttered, still taken aback. “Too bad I’m not dressed up.” You mumbled to yourself.

Dieter chuckled. “It seems our friend here sees something she likes.”

“Hmmm? Oh um yes” You blushed quickly taking your hand back.

“So how about it? Want to see where else there's a size difference?” Dieter asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the pair, but you shrugged your shoulders. “I actually would love that.”

Dieter’s eyes widened and he clapped his eyes excitedly. “Perfect.” He dramatically pointed to the exit. “Let us make haste and love!” He hurried towards the exit.

You couldn’t help, but giggle at the man’s antics. You hopped off the stool throwing a few ones onto the counter. “Is he always like this?” You asked Din who offered his arm to you which you gladly accepted.

“Always.” Din replied, and you followed the chaotic Dieter out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dieter talked the whole way home to their apartment. It wasn’t so bad. You sat in the back with him as Din drove, and Dieter basically went over all of the kinks he had and what they both were comfortable with. It wasn’t what you were expecting considering your past experiences, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You laid out what you did and didn’t like to do which Dieter was very receptive too. After your check in, it wasn’t long until you were making out with Dieter, his hands roaming all of you and trying to pull you into his lap. You giggle as you carefully straddled his waist, bracing yourself on the door frame.

A low purr emanated from Dieter as he nuzzled his face into your clothed breasts. You couldn’t help but giggled as he motorboated against the fabric. With your free hand, you tangled your fingers into his curly hair, giving his scalp a gentle scratch. Dieter squeezed your hips making you squeak from the surprise. He smirked and snaked his hands up your stomach, sighing at your soft skin. You watched as he pushed up your shirt, licking his lips at the sight of your bare tits staring him right in his face.

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I see you weren’t interested in the support tonight.”

You chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Nah, the girls needed to be free tonight.”

With both of his hands, Dieter gently grasped your breasts in his hands rolling his thumb gently over your peaking nipples. You gasped, pushing your chest forward needing more stimulation from his fingers. Dipping his head, Dieter lapped at your nipples, the chill from his drink still evident on his tongue. You shivered as he lapped at your peaks, loving the contrasting warm and cold feelings. Dieter chuckled, pausing his motions and nuzzling his cheek into your chest. Playfully he bounced your tits saying, “Well I can be their support.”

You giggled at his playfulness. “Unfortunately I can’t have you holding them 24/7.”

Dieter pouted. “But I wanna.”

You smooth his curls away from his forehead. “I’ll see what I can figure out.”

That returned Dieter’s smile. With one hand still on your breasts, he sneaked his other down your stomach once more sliding them into your pants. You gasped softly as his fingers toyed with the lacey straps. Dieter smirked. “And you said you weren’t dressed up.”

You blushed. “I wouldn’t consider underwear as dressing up.”

“On the contrary, sweetheart. I am always an advocate of showing off the fanciest of underwear.” He purred his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit. Slow delicate circles send a pulses of pleasure through your body. Soft pants escaped your lips and you pressed your head into his shoulder.

Dieter chuckled as he continued his motions, dragging his fingers all around your sensitive bits. His dark eyes caught Din’s in the rearview mirror and he smirked. “My love I believe your eyes stay on the road.”

All Din gave as a response was a grunt, but Dieter could tell how worked up Din was. Dieter chuckled to himself as they pulled into their long driveway, the car gliding over the smooth concrete. Din turned the car off, quickly unbuttoning his seatbelt and opening the driver side door. It only took a second for him to open the backseat and carefully pull you off of Dieters lap holding you in his arms.

You bit your lip as Din nuzzled his nose into your neck, his noticeable erection pressing into your stomach. “Oh and what was that about not paying attention?” Dieter teased, closing the car doors behind you. Din growled into your lips and Dieter rolled his eyes. “I’ll get the door”

Din followed Dieter up the driveway, the footsteps of Dieter’s crocs guiding him into the house. You weren’t paying attention. All of your focus was the taste of whiskey against Din’s soft lips. Quick pants escaped your lips as the warm air of the house hit your skin. Din bit your lips sliding his tongue into your mouth. Gasping your fingers tangled in his hair giving them a firm tug. Din moaned, his cock twitching inside his pants. You chuckled and nuzzled your nose into his stubbled cheek.

“Oh that’s such a nice sound.” Din blushed, dropping his gaze. You kissed his cheek leaning in close before saying, “I like hearing you moan.” That heard another twitch in his pants as he carried you into the bedroom.

With your attention focused on other things, you could finally take in the space where Din had carried you. A giant bed lay against the wall with the soft silken covers adorning the top. Memorabilia from Dieter’s collection lined the wall while Din’s areas stayed relatively minimalist. You wondered how such an odd couple ended up together.

But quickly your mind returned to the task at hand. As gently as handling an animal, Din set you in the middle of the bed. It only took a moment for him to crawl over you, encompassing you with his wide body. You bit your lips as your hands slid up his button shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch.

“Mmmmm what a lovely sight you two are,” Dieter commented as he sauntered to the edge of the bed. He made himself at home by the pillows as he watched the show.

You blushed under the attention of the actor, but continued your focus on Din. Your fingers danced over the buttons, slowly opening them to reveal the skin underneath. The sight was utterly delicious and all you wanted to do was lick the saltiness as you made your way down.

With a slow pull of your hands, you touched every inch of Din’s torso earning gasps from the older man. By the time you reached the tops of his jeans, he was panting, his full erection pressing against the material. Slowly you caressed his cock, feeling the magnitude against your hand. “Shit you are big.” You said, licking your lips.

Just like his shirt, you undo the button, shifting the material down freeing his cock. It stood at attention with beads of precum already pooling on the head. With a finger, you traced the prominent vein up the shaft to the head where you gathered the precum against your finger. Curiously you brought it up to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Din as the saltiness coated itself over your tongue.

You moaned at the taste and you could hear Dieter chuckling beside you. “He tastes better than any cocktail.”

Humming in agreement you shifted yourself bringing your head closer to Din’s. But as you go to take his cock into his mouth, Din stops you with a gentle push on your shoulder. You look up, worried you did something wrong.

“I want to treat you since you were so kind to agree to this,” Din voiced, a soft pink blush on his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but blush in return. With these sorts of nights, you were lucky if the man ever went near your vagina with anything other than his cock. Din was such a considerate person that it was a shame this was only for one night. You nodded, returning back to your original position. With dexterous fingers Din pulled your pants along with the underwear off in one fluid motion. You shivered as the cool air hit your legs. Din stared at you with his dark brown eyes as he trailed slow kisses from your calf to your thighs until you could feel his breath against your wet lips.

“I’m gonna devour you, little flower,” Din purred.

Dieter rolled his eyes. “We all love your chivalrousness babe, but someone is also getting lonely. And I mean, she did want to blow someone.” Dieter commented and you couldn’t help but smirk.

With a playful roll of your head, you opened your mouth ready for Dieter’s cock. Dieter smiled pulling down the waist of his well loved yet fashionable sweatpants, his own erection popping out. You lifted your hand giving Dieter a few pumps before kissing the head. His own salty taste mixed with Din’s was like a cocktail of lust in your mouth.

That was when Din took the opportunity to take a long lick up your lips ending on a flick of his tongue on your clit. You gasped from the sudden pleasure, making you open your mouth. Dieter took the chance and slid the full length of his cock into your mouth. You gagged a little though taking no time to adjust to his size.

Dieter leaned back his head against the headboard. “S-Shit we should have found you faster.” He slowly thrusted into your mouth, your tongue swirling around and up the shaft. “D-Din we gotta keep her.”

Din hummed in agreement as he lapped at your clit. Sparks of pleasure tingled in your stomach, making you moan against Dieter’s cock. The full balls slapped against your throat as Dieter’s thrusts started becoming faster. Dieter cursed with each movement enjoying himself immensely. His gaze wandered down to watch Din as he continued to pleasure you like you were his last meal.

“Shit babe, leave some of that for me. She’s gonna need it when I cum inside her.” You moaned at the thought of his cock spilling his seed inside you. Dieter smirked his gaze meeting your eyes. “Is that something you want, doll?” He asked, his thumb tracing your cheek. You nodded the best you could, and Dieter slowly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting you two.

“You heard the cutie. I think it’s time for the ol’ Johnson to shine,” Dieter exclaimed excitedly as Din shifted away from you. It was your time to roll your eyes at the other man’s antics. Dieter maneuvered around getting on his hands and knees in front of you.

“You’re ridiculous,” You teased hands cupping Dieter’s cheeks and quickling kissing his lips.

“Uh ya ridiculously horny,” He replied with a cheeky smirk.

You threw your head back against the pillows, a loud laugh filling the room. “God you’re funny.”

Dieter glanced over his shoulder at Din who had kneeled behind him. “See, someone thinks I’m funny.”

“Just give it a few years,” Din teased back as he gently pulled a very fancy buttplug out of his husband. Dieter moaned at the lack of friction and you preoccupied him with your lips. He pushed for dominance against you, but you pushed back with just the same intensity.

Din set the butt plug aside and squirted a dollop of lube onto his palm. Carefully he applied the generous amount onto his cock and Dieter’s hole. A soft gasp escaped Dieter’s lips as he shuttered against the chilly material.

With a quick peck of the cheek, you said “Don’t worry. You’ll be warmed up in no time.” Dieter groaned at your words, his own cock twitching at the idea of being deep inside you. With a slow push, Din entered him a deep grumble vibrating his throat as he felt Dieter pulse around him. Dieter moaned, resting his head on your shoulder as he adjusted to his size.

Gently you twirled his curls around your fingers, your nails massaging his scalp. It only took him a moment for him to be ready. Dieter gently pumped his own cock adjusting his hips to meet yours. He guided his cock up and down your slit, your arousal coating the head. You both moaned at the feeling.

But Dieter grew impatient. With his hand he guided his cock to your hole, gathering up the wetness glistening between your legs. With an eager but still gentle push, he buried himself fully inside of you. The noise that escaped his lips was down right sinful as his legs shook from so much pleasure. Small pants flowed from your lips as you felt Dieter filling you to the brim with his cock. It twitched inside of you and you squeezed around it in response.

“Fuck,” He whimpered nuzzling his nose into your neck, his warm breath ebbing against your skin.

Din took this as a sign to begin thrusting. It was slow at first, gauging how you were handling everything. In and out Dieter’s cock rubbed against the sensitive areas inside you, and you moaned. Fingers pulled at Dieter’s curls earning a new set of moans to the symphony of sex.

Din grunted as he pulled his cock almost out of Dieter before plunging it back inside of him, sending Dieter deeper inside of you. The trio moaned as everyone was feeling on cloud nine. Din sped of up thrusts, the need for gentleness over. He draped his torso over Dieter’s back, leaning in to bite on the actor’s shoulder.

Dieter twitched inside of you, and you smirked. “S-Shit I should bite you more,”

Dieter moaned as Din’s thrusts became more erratic. It was clear that Din was close to cuming and by the way Dieter felt inside of you, he was close too. Your hand slid down your torso and your fingers began circling your clit, speeding up your motions as you felt the heat in your stomach began to grow and grow.

With each circle you squeezed around Dieter, earning a moan each time. Your fingers pressed on a particularly sensitive bit and you moaned, sending your legs shaking. Dieter couldn’t hold on much longer. With a few more thrusts from Din, Dieter leaned his head back and came hard inside you. You could feel each bit of cum drenching your walls.

You played with your clit as fast as you could, using your entire hand to gain the pleasure you need. Soon you joined Dieter in the realm of orgasm and came with the tensing of your legs. As you came down from your high, a series of grunts filled the room as Din filled Dieter with his own high.

All three of you were left panting against the bed. Din was the first to pull out, and with a tilt of your head you could see the cum cascading down Dieter’s leg. Din gave Dieter’s ass a few taps before slowly getting off the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom.

Almost reluctantly Dieter pulled out of you, his gaze drifting down to see his own seed dripping from you. “Fuck that’s such a pretty sight, doll.” Dieter moaned as he leaned down. You followed his gaze with curiosity. Dieter glanced up. “What? Think I would miss an opportunity to taste the both of us? Not a chance.” With a quick swipe of his tongue, he gathered you and his own arousal on his tongue savoring the saltiness. You gasped at the overstimulation and latched onto his curls for grounding. This only spurred him on, and soon he was devouring like he hadn’t eaten in days. Another orgasm ripped through you, surprising you with how quickly he made you cum. That made Dieter’s ego skyrocket, and he chuckled as he detached himself from you.

“S-Shit…how?” You asked, panting, mind fuzzy from the pleasure.

“I can’t give away all of my secrets,” Dieter winked before he settled beside you. His arms pulled you in for cuddles which you gladly appreciated. The warmth from his chest filled you with ease as you wound down from the activities.

Din reappeared with the washcloth, and with effortless gentleness he cleaned the both of you. He tossed the material aside, dealing with it at a later time, before settling on the other side of you. You practically purred at the feeling of the two men sandwhiching you.

Everything was quiet as you laid there. Din gently drew imaginary shapes on your skin, and Dieter twirled your hair in his fingers. “C-Can we do this again?” You asked hesitantly not wanting to break the magic of tonight.

Dieter chuckled against your hair. “I was hoping you would ask that.” You smiled in return happy that your crappy night had turned into something you had a feeling would last a long time.

Credit: @inklore

All Works Taglist:

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Characters Taglist:

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

@jessthebaker

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pdriesta · 2 days ago

Text

CHAPTER ONE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 10k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an —if you're expecting trent from my other works, turn away.

masterlist

trent sat in his living room, staring out the window, his mind still replaying the scene at the café. he had seen his fair share of fiery women, but something about y/n’s reaction had struck him in a way he didn’t expect. the way she stood up, her voice dripping with disdain as she called him "just another guy"—it hit deeper than he wanted to admit. he wasn’t sure who he thought he was when he brushed her off earlier, but she was no pushover. there was a power in her, an undeniable confidence that he wasn’t used to. the women around him usually gave in, smiling or flirting back, charmed by who he was and what came with his name. but y/n? she had no interest in any of that. she didn’t even seem to care that he was trent alexander-arnold.

the memory of her walking out, leaving him sitting there speechless, gnawed at him. maybe it was that she had the guts to talk down to him. maybe it was that she hadn’t flinched when he poked at her about sancho. or maybe it was that, deep down, what she said about him being "just another guy" got under his skin. for the first time in a long time, someone didn’t care about his football career or his fame. to her, he was just another obstacle in her way. it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

he sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch as his older brother, tyler, walked in with his phone in hand. "you ready?" tyler asked, a raised brow signaling that it was time for their meeting at y/n’s record label.

trent didn’t respond at first, still caught up in his thoughts about her. what exactly had convinced him to say yes to this arrangement after how the café meeting went? maybe it was her fire, or maybe it was because, despite his stubbornness, he realized she wasn’t the type of woman he could push around. whatever it was, he found himself agreeing to it.

“yeah, let’s get this over with,” trent finally muttered, standing up. tyler gave him a knowing look but didn’t say anything. he knew trent well enough to know something was off, but now wasn’t the time to push for answers.

they walked into the label’s sleek, modern office building, and the tension was thick in the air. as soon as they stepped into the room, trent saw y/n. she was already seated at the table, an iced americano in front of her, her expression a mix of boredom and frustration. she didn’t even bother to look up when they entered, her focus entirely on her phone as she absentmindedly stirred her drink. she exuded a kind of power that wasn’t loud, but it demanded attention. it was in her posture, the way she held herself like she didn’t have time for anyone’s nonsense.

trent couldn’t help but admire that about her, even though he’d been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. she wasn’t here to play games, and that was clear from the second they sat down. across from them were their respective lawyers, along with tyler and ayesha, y/n’s manager, who greeted them with a polite, business-like nod.

"shall we get started?" ayesha said, her voice calm but firm. "we’re here to finalize the terms of your arrangement. the contract outlines a public relationship for the next six months, though that timeline is subject to change depending on y/n’s upcoming album cycle."

trent’s gaze flickered to y/n, who hadn’t said a word since they arrived. she was still scrolling on her phone, acting completely indifferent to the entire situation. the tension between them was palpable, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from their earlier encounter or something else entirely. either way, she was clearly pissed about being here.

he leaned back in his chair, watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction as ayesha and tyler discussed the details of their agreement. "when will that be?" trent finally asked, breaking his silence and hoping to get some kind of rise out of her.

y/n’s eyes snapped up from her phone, and for a split second, her fiery gaze locked with his. “when it’s done,” she shot back flatly, before immediately turning her attention back to her phone, completely dismissing him.

trent clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration in check. she really wasn’t going to make this easy, and he could already tell. tyler and ayesha exchanged awkward glances, clearly sensing the tension, and the lawyers shuffled through their papers, ignoring the exchange altogether.

“right,” tyler said, clearing his throat. “so, as outlined, there will be public outings—dinners, events, and a few social media posts to solidify the relationship in the public eye. everything will be staged, nothing too intimate, just enough to get the media talking.”

ayesha nodded in agreement, then turned to y/n, who was still ignoring trent’s presence entirely. “you can continue to see other people, as long as it doesn’t get out. discretion is key here.”

trent's eyes darted back to y/n, watching closely for her reaction. he knew her and sancho were still a thing, whether they admitted it or not. he half-expected her to flinch or at least react, but she didn’t. she remained composed, her expression unreadable, though her fingers gripped her iced americano a bit tighter.

ayesha let out a small laugh. “and now, officially, you two will be the new power couple. i’m sure the media’s going to eat this up.”

“lucky us,” y/n muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she stood, abruptly signaling that the meeting was over for her. she grabbed her bag and glanced at ayesha. “i’m leaving. call me if anything else needs signing. thank you,” the last sentiment towards the lawyers and teh older alexander-arnold.

trent opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what, maybe to call her out on her attitude or just to get a final word in—but before he could, she was already out the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and a palpable wave of irritation.

tyler sighed, shaking his head. "well, that went well."

trent stayed silent, watching the door y/n had just stormed through. something about her made him uneasy, but it wasn’t just anger. it was something else entirely. he wasn’t sure if this arrangement was going to work, but one thing was clear—he was in for a hell of a ride.

y/n lay tangled in the sheets, jadon’s arm draped over her waist as her mind raced. the heat from their earlier encounter lingered, her skin still buzzing from the familiar feel of his lips, his touch. it was a routine, one they’d fallen into easily. whenever the world seemed to press too hard on her—first with trent, then the label's relentless pressure to churn out more love songs—jadon was the one she went to. it didn’t make sense, not when she knew he wasn’t good for her. but something about him had always been hard to resist.

y/n lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around her bare legs. jadon was still beside her, his arm lazily draped across her waist, breathing softly against her neck. it was natural now—this. their routine. they’d done it what felt like a thousand times before. same bed, same space, same empty words exchanged afterward. she wasn’t proud of it, and every time she swore it would be the last, something about him pulled her back.

her mum’s voice echoed in her mind, words of wisdom passed down in her mother tongue, reminding her that no one was perfect. but y/n knew her imperfection had a name—jadon sancho. no matter how much she tried to distance herself, there was something about him that kept her tethered. maybe it was the charm, the way he always knew exactly what to say, or maybe it was the way he’d smile at her like she was the only one in the room. she wasn’t sure anymore.

slipping out of bed, she began to pull on her clothes, moving with the kind of casual ease that came with familiarity. jadon watched her from where he lay, his arm tucked under his head, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at her.

reaching for her clothes, jadon shifted behind her, his voice low and heavy with sleep. “you leaving already?”

y/n didn’t turn around, pulling her sweats up as she spoke. “yeah, i have to go.”

he sat up slightly, watching her with that knowing smirk that always made her weak. “since when do you rush off after?” his gaze was playful, but there was a question underneath.

normally, she would’ve stayed. they’d order food, maybe watch a movie or talk about nothing for hours. dates, in secret, where they’d avoid the paparazzi and pretend their situation wasn’t what it was—complicated, undefined, and utterly toxic. but this time, something felt different.

“it’s not like that,” she mumbled, slipping her shirt on and finally turning to face him. jadon’s dark eyes were studying her, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension.

he chuckled softly, but there was a slight edge to it, one she noticed immediately. “not like that? or is it ‘cause of your new ‘boyfriend’?” he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, clearly amused. “you really do have a type, huh?”

y/n froze for a second, the mention of trent hitting a nerve she didn’t expect. “trent isn’t my boyfriend,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing her bag off the floor.

jadon tilted his head, still smirking. “right. just like i’m not your boyfriend either, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat at his words. he wasn’t wrong, and that was part of the problem. the truth was, no matter how many times she told herself she could stop, she always ended up back here—back with him. and despite the casual nature of their relationship, there were feelings they both danced around, never acknowledging, never pushing past the surface.

“you don’t get to ask about trent,” y/n said sharply, more to shut him up than anything else.

“oh, but i do,” jadon shot back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. he crossed the room, his shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders as he moved closer, the playful spark in his eyes now clouded with something else—something heavier. “he and i played together, you know. on the national team. didn’t know you’d end up with another footballer. thought i was your only one.”

y/n rolled her eyes, annoyed at his cockiness. “don’t make this about you.”

“it’s always about me,” he countered, stepping into her space, his voice low as his hand ghosted over her arm. “you’re here, aren’t you?”

she felt a shiver run down her spine, his touch lighting a fire in her that she hated she couldn’t control. “i came here because i needed to clear my head,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “but we’re not anything, jadon. we never were.”

his eyes darkened, the smug grin on his lips faltering for the briefest moment. “right, of course,” he said quietly. “because you’ll keep telling yourself that until you believe it, yeah?”

y/n exhaled sharply, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence still affected her. “you’re impossible.”

“you always say that, but you keep coming back, y/n,” he murmured, his voice softening as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “you don’t think i see it? the way you’re always fighting this. fighting us. i know you feel it too.”

she bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. it was true—there was something between them, something raw and unspoken. but it was also messy, confusing, and more often than not, it hurt.

“i don’t know why i keep coming back,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “but i can’t do it anymore. i have to stop.”

jadon’s jaw clenched, the words hitting him harder than he wanted to show. “and what, you think trent’s gonna be different? you think you won’t be back here again, with me?”

her heart raced, the pull between them stronger than she wanted to admit. “i can’t, jadon. not this time.”

“so that’s it?” he asked, stepping back slightly, his voice quieter now. “you’re really gonna walk away, just like that?”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself before she opened the door. “yeah. i have to.”

“you’ll be back,” he said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice this time.

she hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. “not this time,” she whispered, and with that, she walked out, leaving him standing there, his expression unreadable.

as she left his apartment, the reality of her words sank in. she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but what she did know was that things couldn’t stay the same. and as much as she hated to admit it, trent had already complicated things in ways she hadn’t expected.

y/n sped down the road, her fingers gripping the steering wheel as her mind replayed the same tired loop of thoughts. she had never been good at keeping her emotions in check—every feeling she had, whether frustration, joy, or heartbreak, found its way into the songs she wrote. the singing came later, a natural extension of the emotions she couldn’t keep inside. despite the confident persona she carried now, y/n had always been shy, even timid as a child. she still remembered being in the choir at her all-girls school, hiding in the back until her teacher forced her to take a solo. if it hadn’t been for that push, she would’ve never discovered the voice that would eventually take her all over the world.

but now, that voice only seemed to echo with the messy frustrations of her life, and one name lingered in every song—jadon.

her latest album was a catalog of every high and low she’d been through with him, even if she’d never admit it out loud. the media had no clue, of course, but jadon? he knew. it was all in the lyrics—the tragedy of their situationship strung together verse by verse. they were raw, exposing parts of herself she was still too prideful to confess directly. the way he always knew she’d come back, the way he got under her skin… it was all there, hidden in plain sight.

she groaned, slamming the car door as she parked outside zaia’s house. she couldn’t keep doing this. couldn’t keep falling into the same pattern. the moment she stepped into her best friend's cozy, suburban home, the warmth and stability hit her hard. everything about zaia’s life was so… put together. the complete opposite of the chaotic mess y/n had going on. while zaia was happily engaged to her childhood sweetheart, planning a wedding and living in domestic bliss, y/n was the media’s favorite "mess," the girl who couldn’t seem to keep a man, at least according to every tabloid headline.

she stormed inside without knocking, not bothering with pleasantries. "where’s the wine?" y/n called out, tossing her bag onto the couch before collapsing into it, her face buried in the cushions.

zaia appeared from the kitchen, a bemused look on her face as she poured a glass of wine and handed it over. "bad day, huh?"

"bad week," y/n grumbled, sitting up to take the glass. "i swear, if one more thing goes wrong, i’m going to lose it."

zaia raised an eyebrow, settling into the armchair across from her. "let me guess—jadon?"

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. she never had to with zaia. "he just… he makes me so mad. and i don’t know why i keep going back. it’s like he knows exactly how to push my buttons, and i fall for it every time."

zaia sighed, leaning forward slightly. "you’re too prideful, y/n. you know you’re in too deep with him, but instead of cutting him off, you write songs about him. we both know ‘girls need love’ was about him.”

y/n scoffed, though she knew zaia was right. "i write about what i feel. it’s not always about him."

"you’ve gotta leave him alone, y/n," zaia sighed, shaking her head. "he's a dead end, and your songs say it all. i mean, come on, you basically spilled everything in ‘playing games.’ you wrote ‘you say you want me, but you act like you don’t’—who else could that be about?"

y/n groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "that could be about anyone."

"oh, please." zaia rolled her eyes. "and then there’s ‘girls need love.’.’ if that’s not about jadon stringing you along, then i don’t know what is. you’ve practically handed him a whole mixtape of your mess together."

"it’s not that deep," y/n muttered, though she knew zaia had a point. the songs weren’t just vague reflections of her life—they were practically confessions. every line felt like a piece of the complicated puzzle that was her and jadon.

"girl, it is that deep," zaia shot back. "you’ve got a whole album about this man, and he’s still playing the same games. you need to cut him off."

y/n slumped further into the couch, the truth of zaia’s words sinking in more than she wanted to admit. "it’s not that simple. you don’t get it."

"i do get it. you’re addicted to him. it’s like you love the chaos," zaia said, her voice soft but firm. "but it’s not healthy. you’re wasting your time, your energy, on someone who’s never going to change."

y/n stared down at her wine glass, swirling the dark liquid inside. zaia was right. she always was. but something in her—whether it was pride or stubbornness or something else entirely—kept pulling her back to jadon, even when she knew it was a losing game. "he’s not that bad," she muttered, more to herself than to zaia.

zaia scoffed. "he’s worse, y/n. every time you get close to something good, he reels you back in just to keep you from moving on."

y/n bit her lip, the frustration bubbling inside her again. she hated that zaia could see her so clearly, even when she tried to hide behind the excuses. "it’s just… i don’t know. i don’t know why i can’t stop."

"because you don’t want to," zaia said plainly. "but you need to."

silence hung in the air for a moment before zaia, ever the pragmatic one, switched topics. "so, what’s the deal with trent?"

y/n groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "don’t even get me started on him. i hate him."

"you sure about that?" zaia teased, raising an eyebrow.

"yes," y/n shot back. "he’s arrogant and—ugh. just no. the whole thing with him is a disaster waiting to happen."

zaia leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "maybe he’s exactly what you need. a distraction. someone to finally get your mind off jadon."

y/n narrowed her eyes. "a distraction? you think this PR relationship is going to help me forget sancho?"

"why not? he’s easy on the eyes, you know, and he’s not jadon. that’s already a win."

"it’s not that simple, zai. we signed contracts, there are rules… and i don’t need another distraction. i need to focus on my music, not some fake relationship."

zaia gave her a pointed look. "maybe you need a break from the music. all it’s been doing lately is giving you more reasons to run back to jadon. maybe trent’s exactly what you need to finally cut the cord."

y/n stared at her friend, unsure of how to respond. she didn’t want to admit it, but maybe zaia had a point. maybe pretending to be with trent, even if it was just for the cameras, was the clean break she needed.

later that week, trent found himself pacing around his living room, phone in hand. it had been days since the meeting at the label, and he hadn't heard a word from y/n. it wasn’t like he expected her to reach out—she’d made it pretty clear how much she didn’t want anything to do with him. but the silence, the radio silence, was starting to get under his skin. she was being petty, and for some reason, that irritated him even more.

he glanced down at the number he'd gotten from ayesha, sighing. "guess i'm the one who has to be the adult here," he muttered, dialing the number.

the phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a soft, unfamiliar voice finally answered.

"hello?" y/n’s voice came through, cautious and unsure, as if she didn’t know who it was.

trent smirked to himself. of course, she didn’t save my number.

"y/n. it’s trent."

there was a brief pause on the other end. he could almost imagine her blinking in surprise, her posture stiffening at the unexpected call.

"trent," she repeated slowly, as if testing the name on her tongue. "how did you get my number?"

"ayesha," he said simply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "i figured we needed to talk, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me since last week."

"i haven’t been avoiding you." her tone was sharp, defensive. "i’ve just been... busy."

trent rolled his eyes. "right. well, we can’t exactly keep this up. we need to figure this out sooner rather than later."

"figure what out?" her voice was laced with irritation, like she didn’t even want to entertain the conversation.

"the arrangement. the contract," trent said, trying to keep his voice steady, though her attitude was starting to get under his skin again. "we have to be on the same page if this is gonna work."

there was another pause, and he could hear her exhale on the other end. "fine. when and where?"

he raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of heart. "you’re agreeing to meet?"

"didn’t you just say we need to?" she shot back, sounding exasperated. "let’s just get it over with. when?"

"tonight. my place," he said quickly, not giving her a chance to back out. "i’ll text you the address."

there was a brief hesitation before she agreed. "fine. i’ll be there."

trent hung up, a sense of relief washing over him—but also a lingering annoyance. this wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she was willing to meet.

now all he had to do was figure out how to navigate whatever was about to come next. because if their phone call was anything to go by, this arrangement was already off to a rocky start.

trent tossed his phone onto the counter, the clatter echoing through the quiet room. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up on him. it was just business, just a deal they were both locked into for the next six months. but something about the way y/n had been so indifferent, so cold on the phone, kept replaying in his mind.

he leaned back against the counter, staring out the window. his thoughts drifted, uninvited, to jadon sancho. were they still seeing each other? were they still tangled up in whatever mess they had going on? the idea of y/n being laid up with jadon, while pretending to be in a relationship with him, didn’t sit right. it wasn't just about the contract or the public image—it was something else, something more personal.

he hated the thought of her, in the middle of the night, pressed against jadon’s chest, laughing at something stupid he said. he knew sancho; they’d been teammates. he’d seen the way women flocked to him, the easy smile, the charm he laid on so thick. but y/n —she was something else. she wasn’t just another girl. he’d seen the way she carried herself, the way she didn’t let people, especially men, walk all over her. that fiery tongue, the way she wasn’t impressed by who he was. it had struck a nerve, one that was still stinging.

what did she even see in sancho?

trent couldn't help but scoff at the thought. he’s your type, sancho would joke—like types meant anything when you were faking love for the cameras. but still, the idea of her being involved with him while they carried on this charade made trent’s stomach twist. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. no, it was just the optics of it, the idea that they couldn’t have their cover blown because y/n couldn't stay away from someone else.

trent crossed his arms, his irritation simmering as he recalled those nights at the club. he could still picture it: jadon, with that arrogant grin plastered on his face, always clinging to y/n like she was the only thing that mattered in the crowded room. it grated on trent's nerves to see how sancho paraded around her, as if he had it all figured out, as if she was just another trophy to display.

but the truth was, it was clear to anyone who bothered to look closely: y/n had the upper hand.

she played her cards with effortless grace, keeping sancho in the palm of her delicate hand. there was a fire in her eyes, a spark that made her untouchable, and yet, there she was, tangled up in a relationship that was anything but simple. while sancho flexed his charm and dominance, y/n stood confidently, unbothered, perfectly aware of the control she wielded.

trent hated that he was even thinking about this. it was just another reason to keep his distance, to remind himself that they were supposed to be faking it, not getting caught up in whatever drama her past with jadon might bring. but the more he replayed those moments in his mind, the more he questioned whether she had really moved on from sancho or if she was just playing a deeper game, one that trent didn’t fully understand.

did she only agree to use him to get back at jadon?

he couldn't help but wonder how she would fit into this new chapter of his life, this ridiculous arrangement they were about to start.

he pushed himself off the counter, trying to shake the thoughts away. he needed to focus on the contract, the arrangement, and how to make it work. but no matter how hard he tried, the idea of y/n and jadon—together, intimately—kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

what kind of game was she playing?

trent couldn’t deny the tension building within him as he stood outside y/n’s condo, waiting for her to join him for the charity event. this was their second public outing together, another step in their carefully curated façade. the night was supposed to be simple: smiles for the cameras, casual conversation with his teammates, and just enough chemistry to keep the tabloids buzzing.

but nothing about y/n was simple, and he felt the weight of that as he stared at her building, checking his phone for the fifth time.

when the door finally opened, he looked up, and his breath hitched in his throat. y/n stood framed by the soft glow of her entryway, draped in a black gown that demanded attention. the corset top sculpted her figure flawlessly, emphasizing her curves and leaving just enough to the imagination. a black fur coat hung over her shoulders, but it couldn’t mask how stunning she looked.

“you’re staring,” she teased as she approached, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

trent blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a word. “just… making sure you’re ready,” he muttered, clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“oh, i’m ready,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk as she brushed past him toward his car.

in the confines of the car, the tension was palpable. the scent of her perfume filled the space, soft yet intoxicating, and every shift of her body drew his attention. the slit in her gown revealed a flash of her leg when she crossed them, and trent gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“you alright there?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah. fine,” he replied curtly, focusing on the road.

when they arrived at the venue, the coat check left him momentarily speechless. as y/n slipped off her coat, her gown came into full view, shimmering under the light and accentuating every inch of her. the neckline dipped just enough to make his throat dry, and the fitted corset made her look like a vision of elegance and allure combined.

he didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened as he noticed the appreciative glances she was drawing from others in the room.

“you good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed her coat to the attendant.

“fine,” he said, his tone clipped.

but he wasn’t fine. not when he spent the first hour of the event watching as his teammates approached her, drawn in by her charm. he had deliberately kept his distance, convinced that avoiding her was the best way to keep his own emotions in check. but when he saw ryan gravenberch leaning a little too close as she laughed at something he said, trent felt his patience snap.

as he approached them, he caught the tail end of their conversation. y/n was smiling, her posture relaxed, and ryan looked equally at ease.

“everything okay here?” trent asked, his voice deceptively casual as he joined them.

y/n glanced at him, her smile fading slightly as she registered his tone. “yeah, everything’s fine. ryan was just telling me about—”

“i bet he was,” trent interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at his teammate. “you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you, ryan?”

ryan frowned, straightening up. “uh, yeah. i do.”

“right,” trent said, his gaze shifting to y/n. “you’ve got a type, don’t you? footballers.”

y/n’s smile faltered, the slight stiffening of her shoulders the only indication she’d heard him. but trent could tell. he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she blinked rapidly as if trying to push it away.

“excuse me,” she said suddenly, standing up and walking away from the table, her posture rigid as she stormed off toward the coat check.

trent cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. they’d been getting along—she’d even seemed to be enjoying herself—and he’d ruined it. again.

he rushed after her, weaving through the crowd until he finally caught up to her at the coat check. “y/n, wait,” he called, reaching for her arm, but she pulled away, her expression icy.

“don’t,” she snapped, turning to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “if you’re just going to play into their hand and paint me out to be some sort of slut, we might as well rip up that contract right now.”

trent blinked, taken aback by her words. “that’s not what i—”

“no, trent, don’t even try,” she interrupted, her voice shaking slightly. “you don’t get to slut shame me. you don’t get to make comments like that just because i’ve been involved with someone you know.”

“you really think that little of me, don’t you? that i’d flirt with someone who has a girlfriend? that i’d stoop that low?” she said, her voice trembling slightly with restrained fury.

“i didn’t say—”

“you didn’t have to,” she cut him off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you just implied it. because that’s what you think of me, isn’t it? just some girl who’s here for a good time, here to play the part you need me to play.”

trent opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t done.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “and you clearly don’t care to. all you see is what you want to see, and that’s on you, not me.”

she turned on her heel, heading for the coat check, but he followed her, grabbing her arm gently.

“y/n, wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

“don’t,” she snapped, pulling her arm free. “if you’re just going to insult me and humiliate me in front of your teammates, don’t bother pretending to care now.”

“that’s not what I meant—”

“then what did you mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell sounded like you were slut-shaming me for talking to someone who was just being nice. god, even jadon—”

her voice broke off, and she shook her head, blinking back tears.

“what?” trent asked, his own frustration bubbling up. “even jadon what?”

“even jadon never made me feel this small,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “and that’s saying something.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him standing there, speechless, as she grabbed her coat and walked away.

the next day, guilt clung to trent like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. he was at training, but his head wasn’t in it. every missed pass, every half-hearted sprint, earned him sidelong glances from his teammates and sharp words from his coach. but nothing could pull him out of the haze he was in, the words y/n had thrown at him replaying in his mind like a broken record.

"even jadon never made me feel this small.”

he swallowed hard, his throat dry as the memory resurfaced again. the crack in her voice, the way she blinked back tears she refused to shed in front of him. the way she’d walked out, her coat clutched tightly around her like armor, leaving him standing there, too stunned to follow.

trent scrubbed a hand over his face, dragging himself back to the present as the whistle blew to end the session. he barely registered the chatter around him as he trudged off the pitch, his phone burning a hole in his pocket. he'd already called her twice this morning, only for it to go straight to voicemail. no response to his texts either.

she was airing him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

meanwhile, y/n was at a café with zai, trying to push the events of the night before out of her mind. the warm, buzzing atmosphere should’ve been enough to distract her, but her thoughts kept drifting back to trent, to his sharp words and the guilt that had flashed in his eyes when she’d finally snapped.

“you’re quiet,” zai noted, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “and don’t tell me it’s nothing. i know that look.”

y/n sighed, stirring her tea absently. “it’s just... men.”

zai raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “is this about trent? or jadon?”

the mention of his name made her flinch, and she hated how easily it still got under her skin. “it’s not about jadon,” she said, a little too quickly. “but it doesn’t matter. it’s just... the same story, different guy. i don’t know why i’m surprised anymore.”

zai frowned, concern flickering across her face. “what happened?”

y/n hesitated, debating whether she even wanted to get into it. but the weight on her chest was too much to carry alone. “he accused me of flirting with someone. like, out of nowhere. and when i tried to explain, he doubled down. it was like...” her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. “it was like i was back there again, with jadon, having to defend myself for existing. except this time, it’s not even real. it’s fake, and it still hurts.”

zai reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you don’t have to put up with this. fake or not.”

“i know,” she whispered, but even as she said it, her resolve wavered.

because the truth was, she did have to put up with it. the contract was clear, and the charity event was coming up fast. she had to face him again by the end of the week, had to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine for the cameras.

but in the quiet corners of her mind, the cracks were already forming. she thought about all the times she’d been here before, swallowing her pride, her hurt, just to keep the peace. with jadon, with other men before him, and now with trent.

it was always the same pattern. they’d charm her at first, make her believe she was special, different. and then, slowly, the cracks would show. the accusations, the jealousy, the little digs at her character that piled up until she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

trent’s words from the night before rang in her ears again, sharp and cutting. she’d thought, maybe naively, that because this was fake, it wouldn’t hurt. that she could separate herself from it. but now, she wasn’t so sure.

“i’ll get through it,” she said finally, forcing a smile for zai’s sake. “it’s just one night. i’ve handled worse.”

but even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a lie. because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that this was just another performance, the truth was far messier.

she didn’t want to admit how deeply his words had cut, how much they reminded her of jadon and the way he used to chip away at her confidence until there was nothing left.

but at least with trent, it wasn’t real.

that thought was supposed to bring her comfort, but instead, it left a hollow ache in her chest. because if even something fake could hurt this much, what did that say about her?

that night, trent sat on the edge of his bed that night, phone in hand, staring at her contact. he’d tried calling her again after training, but still nothing. the silence was deafening, and he hated it. hated knowing he’d hurt her, hated the thought of her comparing him to jadon and coming up short.

he typed out another message, his thumb hovering over the send button.

"y/n, i’m sorry."

it wasn’t enough, he knew that. but he didn’t know what else to say. didn’t know how to fix the mess he’d made.

he hit send anyway, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. the apology sat there, unread, like a weight in the pit of his stomach.

the soft glow of string lights hanging over the patio of the upscale restaurant did little to mask the tension simmering between y/n and trent. their first public outing as a "couple" was supposed to be for show, a chance to create a picture-perfect moment for the cameras. but the peaceful evening was long gone, replaced by an undercurrent of bickering that neither of them could quite rein in.

trent sat across from her, arms crossed, clearly irritated as he watched y/n type away on her phone, her attention fully absorbed by whatever message she was sending. he knew exactly who it was. sancho. the very mention of his name was enough to ignite a spark of frustration in trent, and the fact that she was texting him right in front of him? it was pushing him to his limit.

“really?” trent muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “you’re gonna sit there texting him all night?”

y/n didn’t even bother looking up, her thumb casually swiping across the screen as she typed. “jealous already? we’ve only been ‘dating’ for what—an hour?” she shot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at her lips, knowing she was getting under his skin.

trent’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward slightly. “it’s not jealousy. it’s just pathetic that you’re still hung up on a guy who clearly doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s eyebrows shot up, finally looking up from her phone to meet his gaze. “oh, so you’re keeping tabs on me now? since when do you care who i talk to?”

“i don’t,” he shot back, his voice sharper than he intended. “but if we’re supposed to be playing this fake relationship game, maybe you should stop texting the guy who’s making a fool out of you.”

y/n let out a low, amused laugh, clearly unfazed by his comment. “oh, please. jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. you wouldn’t get it.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah? and what’s that supposed to mean? you think he’s treating you right just because he sends a few sweet texts?”

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “he knows how to keep things interesting. maybe that’s something you could learn from him.”

trent’s eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “yeah, well, from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re the one doing all the chasing. does he even text you back as fast as you’re glued to your phone?”

y/n narrowed her eyes at him, her playful smirk slipping as his words hit a little too close to home. “funny. but you don’t know shit about what’s going on between me and jadon.”

“i know enough,” trent shot back, his voice low and laced with irritation. “i know he’s got you running in circles, thinking you’ve got him where you want him when really, he’s just stringing you along.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with defiance as she leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she closed the distance between them. “you think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. i have him wrapped around my finger, not the other way around.”

trent leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut. “is that what you really think? because from where i’m sitting, you look like you’re trying way too hard to convince yourself of that.”

y/n didn’t flinch, her smirk returning as she dropped her voice to a teasing whisper. “why? you jealous, trent? does it bother you that i can have him, and you’re just playing pretend?”

before trent could respond, y/n leaned forward even further, deliberately letting the neckline of her top dip just enough to catch his attention. trent’s gaze flickered down for the briefest second—a moment so quick he hoped she wouldn’t notice. but she did. and y/n, ever the opportunist, wasn’t about to let it slide.

“oh?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “you can’t even look me in the eye now, can you? maybe you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

trent’s face tightened, his expression darkening as he forced himself to meet her gaze again, refusing to let her win. “you really think everyone wants you, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly enjoying the game she was playing. “not everyone,” she said with a smirk, her eyes dancing with mischief. “but you do.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile never faltering. “unbelievable or right?”

trent exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his cool. “this is exactly what i mean. you’re so caught up in the attention, in thinking everyone’s after you, that you can’t see how messy this is.”

“messy?” y/n echoed, feigning innocence. “i don’t think it’s messy at all. i think you’re the one who’s flustered. i mean, it’s cute—your little attempt at being unaffected—but i know when a guy wants me.”

trent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he glared at her. “you think i’m flustered? please. you’re just pissed because i’m not falling for your bullshit like sancho does.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “nah, you’re pissed because deep down, you’re just as interested as he is. you’re just better at hiding it.”

trent’s eyes flashed with irritation. “if you think i’m interested, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“oh, i know you,” she shot back, her tone teasing but with a sharper edge now. “i know that little glance wasn’t just out of curiosity. you can act all high and mighty, but i can see right through you, trent.”

trent clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he forced himself to stay calm. “you’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

“maybe,” she shrugged, her smirk only growing wider. “but you’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

trent let out a frustrated breath, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“oh, is that what you’re doing?” y/n teased, her voice light and mocking. “keeping me in check? because it seems like you’re the one who can’t handle the heat.”

trent’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “you can play your games with sancho all you want, but don’t drag me into it.”

y/n’s smile widened as she leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “who says i’m playing games? maybe i just like getting under your skin.”

trent’s gaze flickered to hers, his frustration clear in his expression. “trust me, you’re not getting under my skin. i just think it’s sad you’re still hung up on a guy who doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s smirk faltered for a split second before she recovered, her tone sharp as she responded. “and i think it’s sad you’re unbothered when you clearly are.”

trent stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static in the air. they were supposed to be putting on a show, a fake relationship for the cameras, but the lines between reality and pretense were starting to blur. and as much as he hated to admit it, y/n was getting to him.

but he wasn’t about to let her know that. not yet, anyway.

they left the café with tension so thick it was suffocating, y/n’s heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she trailed slightly behind trent. he strode ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, barely sparing her a glance. the entire date had been a disaster—if you could even call it a date. trent hadn’t looked at her, let alone spoken to her, during the meal. he barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes fixed anywhere but on her.

y/n bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface. she was tired of his dismissive attitude. “you know, for someone who’s supposed to be my date,” she called out, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “you’re really bad at it.”

trent didn’t slow down. his long strides made her struggle to keep up, but he didn’t care. “i’m not here to hold your hand,” he said flatly, still refusing to turn around.

y/n quickened her pace, falling into step beside him. “clearly. you’re more interested in ignoring me than pretending this is a real date.”

his jaw tightened, but his expression remained cold. “maybe i just don’t feel like playing into your games.”

“games?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “what games, trent? this whole fake-dating thing was your idea, remember?”

he finally stopped walking, turning to face her with an irritated glare. “yeah, fake,” he muttered, his voice sharp. “but you’re treating it like it’s just another excuse to text him.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what are you even talking about?”

trent’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “you’ve been glued to your phone all night. let me guess—sancho?”

her stomach twisted at the mention of jadon. “oh my god, you’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “i wasn’t texting him.”

“sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “because it’s not obvious or anything. you’re always distracted, smiling at his messages. it’s pathetic.”

her chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, her voice rising. “and even if i was texting him, it’s none of your business.”

trent’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, his tone low but biting. “it is my business. we’re supposed to be selling this ‘happy couple’ act, but you can’t even pretend to be here with me.”

she took a step back, her frustration boiling over. “you ignored me the entire night, trent! you barely even looked at me, and now you’re trying to make me the problem?”

he scoffed, his voice cold. “why bother looking at someone who’s clearly not interested in being here?”

“are you serious right now?” y/n’s voice cracked, the weight of his accusations suffocating her. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“don’t i?” he shot back. “every time we’re together, it’s like you’re somewhere else. you’re not here, y/n. you’re always thinking about someone else.”

her throat tightened as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. she refused to let them fall. “you’re wrong,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “this isn’t about jadon. it’s about you.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his confusion momentarily breaking through his anger. “me?”

“yes, you,” she said, her voice steadier now. “you’re so focused on who you think i’m texting, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. you’ve been cold and distant all night, and i’m the one who’s pathetic?”

his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. for the first time, he looked at her—really looked at her—and the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i want to leave,” y/n said finally, her voice firm. she turned away before he could say anything else, her heels clicking briskly as she walked away.

“y/n—” he started, his voice softer now, but she didn’t stop.

“don’t, trent,” she said, her voice breaking. “i’m done for tonight.”

he stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. but his pride kept him silent, rooted in place as she walked out of sight.

the second date was arranged like the first—some picturesque café on a quiet street, perfect for photographs and social media buzz. but this time, y/n wasn’t going to be the one trying. she was done with his cold shoulder, his sharp words, and the way he acted like her presence was some sort of inconvenience. if trent wanted to treat this arrangement like a game, then fine. she’d play it better.

she arrived on time, wearing a sleek black midi dress and a pair of delicate heels that gave her an air of effortless elegance. she hadn’t bothered to look for him when she walked up to the café. instead, she let the hostess guide her to their reserved table on the patio. trent was already seated, casually scrolling through his phone, his jawline sharp as ever, and a faint furrow in his brow.

"y/n," he greeted, glancing up briefly before looking back down at his screen.

she didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a polite smile as she pulled out her chair and sat down. the silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, but she kept her composure, smoothing her dress over her knees and ignoring the way his gaze flickered toward her once, twice.

he cleared his throat, finally slipping his phone into his pocket. “you’re quiet today,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

she picked up the menu, her eyes scanning the items as if she hadn’t heard him.

trent’s brows knit together. “everything alright?”

still, she said nothing, her attention fixed on the menu. she wasn’t being overtly rude, but her indifference was deliberate, precise.

“y/n,” he said again, more firmly this time. “i asked you a question.”

her lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to show, but she kept her expression neutral. finally, she lowered the menu, setting it down carefully on the table. she met his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again, pretending to admire the flowers in the centerpiece.

trent let out a frustrated exhale, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “are you seriously not going to talk to me?”

she tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the flowers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. her silence was driving him mad, and she knew it.

“alright,” he said, his tone sharp with irritation. “what’s this about? the other night?”

she finally looked at him then, her expression blank, save for the faintest arch of her brow. his frustration deepened, the tension in his shoulders more visible now.

“look,” he started, running a hand through his curls, “if you’re mad about what i said, i—”

her phone buzzed on the table, and without a word, she picked it up, unlocking it with a casual swipe and scrolling through her notifications.

trent’s jaw clenched. “are you serious?”

she ignored him, tapping out a quick reply to a text before setting her phone back down. she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and gave him a look that said are you done?

trent leaned closer, his voice low and biting. “you’re acting like a child.”

that earned him a reaction—her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. “oh, now you care about how i’m acting?” she said sweetly, her voice light but cutting. “interesting.”

he blinked, caught off guard by her sudden words. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” she said with a shrug, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “just an observation.”

he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. “so this is payback, huh? silent treatment? acting like i’m not here?”

her smile widened, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached for her water glass, taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.

“y/n,” he said, his voice firm now, “stop playing around.”

“why?” she asked, setting the glass down and leaning forward slightly. “don’t like it when someone treats you the way you treat them?”

trent’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. she had him cornered, and they both knew it.

“you’ve been impossible,” he said finally, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “i’m trying here, alright?”

her brow shot up. “trying? really? because ignoring me, snapping at me, and barely looking at me the other night didn’t exactly scream effort.”

his jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face for just a moment. “i was—” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “i wasn’t in the best mood.”

“clearly,” she said dryly, leaning back in her chair. “but you still managed to make it my problem.”

“i didn’t mean to,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “look, i know i’ve been... difficult. but this whole thing—” he gestured between them—“it’s not exactly easy, alright? pretending like this is real when it’s not.”

“not easy for you?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “you think it’s a walk in the park for me? dealing with your attitude, your assumptions, your—” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “forget it.”

“no, go on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “say it.”

she met his gaze, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your ego,” she said bluntly. “you act like you’re the only one who has to deal with the pressure, like this whole thing revolves around you.”

his brows furrowed, her words clearly hitting a nerve. “that’s not what i think.”

“isn’t it?” she challenged. “because that’s exactly how it feels.”

trent sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. for a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just nodded. “maybe you’re right.”

her eyes widened slightly, surprised by his admission. “what?”

“you’re right,” he repeated, his voice more measured now. “i’ve been... selfish about this. i didn’t think about how it’s been for you.”

she studied him, trying to gauge whether he was being sincere. “and?”

“what do you want from me, y/n?” he asked, his voice sharp but tinged with desperation.

she stopped, too, slowly turning back to face him. for a moment, she just stood there, her phone in her hand, her expression unreadable. then, with deliberate slowness, she set her phone down on the small café table beside her and leaned back against the chair with her arms crossed.

that look.

it wasn’t just her posture, though that alone was commanding—poised and unapologetically confident. it was the way her light brown, bone-straight locks framed her face like a halo, each strand catching the golden light of the setting sun. her dark, glossy lips curved slightly, like she was on the verge of laughing at him. but it was her eyes that made his breath hitch, piercing and unyielding, filled with a quiet power that made him feel like she could see every corner of his soul.

trent felt pinned under her gaze, completely enthralled. for a moment, he forgot to breathe. in his mind, she was a force he could never hope to control, and for the first time in forever, he realized he didn’t want to.

“i want an apology,” she said finally, her voice calm but firm, as though the entire world bent to her will.

he didn’t even hesitate. “i’m sorry,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

her brows lifted in amusement, and a surprised laugh slipped past her lips, soft and melodic. “wow,” she said, leaning forward slightly, a teasing glint in her eye. “that was... fast.”

“because i mean it,” he said, his voice steady now, though his heart raced. “you were right, y/n. about all of it. i’ve been selfish and short with you when you didn’t deserve it. this whole thing’s been frustrating, but that’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you.”

her lips parted slightly in surprise, and he noticed how her expression softened, just a fraction. “go on,” she said, though her teasing tone couldn’t quite hide the genuine curiosity beneath it.

trent took a step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as if grounding himself. “i’ve been taking my frustration out on you because it’s easier than admitting this arrangement has gotten to me. but you don’t deserve that. if anything, you deserve better than... whatever this is.”

for a moment, she didn’t respond, just studied him with that same piercing gaze. then, slowly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned back, her expression unreadable.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you another chance,” she said, though her tone was lighter now, teasing.

“i’ll take it,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “and i’ll do better. i promise.”

she tilted her head, a flicker of something warmer passing over her face. “you’re serious, huh?”

“dead serious,” he said without missing a beat. “whatever it takes to fix this.”

she gave him a long look before finally nodding, a smile playing on her lips. “alright then,” she said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “you can start by buying me a coffee.”

trent chuckled, his frustration melting into something softer, something lighter. “deal.”

“you’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered, when he returned with her coffee a small smile tugging at her lips.

trent let out a low laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension. “that’s all i’ve got going for me, huh?”

“pretty much,” she teased, her tone lighter now. “but don’t push it. i’m still mad.”

he smirked, leaning back in his chair. “noted.”

it wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was enough for now. as they sat there, the silence between them was no longer cold or uncomfortable—it was something softer, a tentative truce.

as they walked back toward the café’s entrance, side by side, he noticed the way she didn’t pull away when his shoulder brushed hers. it wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was a start. and for the first time, trent felt like they might actually figure this thing out together.

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