#i noticed the roof thing before but not like. the fact that he let his roof rot so he could look at the moon

[little-glitter-kitten]

I Think The Apple's Rotten Right To The Core Pt 4

Prologue: As your brother, Caleb always took great pride in the fact that he was always the first to notice the little things when it came to you. When you were hurt, when you were sick, when you were lying or keeping a secret. What will Caleb do when he notices just how much his precious little adopted sister has grown? Can he fight the filthy, rotten feelings threatening to ruin all he holds dear?

(Caleb x Reader, no use of 'Y/N, AFAB reader, size difference.)

TW: Pseudo-incest, dub-con, somnophilia, semi-public sex, possessive Caleb, Obsessed Caleb, Yandere Caleb.

YOUR POV:

Blearily, you opened your heavy eye lids, the sound of rain smashing against the roof, waking you from your slumber.

"Shhhh..." You could feel Calebs' hot breath in your ear as you stirred. "It's okay, I'm here."

You felt yourself being rocked gently, like a boat on the waves, Calebs' hand on your hip swaying your body to and fro. Relaxing into the motions, you were prepared to drift off to sleep again when you noticed it. That hard appendage rubbing between the lace covered cheeks of your ass.

You gasp, realising what is happening, when a rumble of thunder shakes the windows. Before you could let out the whimper that was about to spill out of your mouth, Calebs hand that hand been under your head shoots out and covers your mouth.

"If your scared, bite my hand, just like you used to do in storms." He whispers before grunting on a particularly rough thrust against your ass. You slowly open your mouth as his thumb makes it way between your lips and teeth. Gently, you bite down and whimper, screwing your eyes shut against the flash of lightning.

"Don't be frightened, it's almost over." He pants in your ear.

You can't tell if he is referring to the storm or him using your body, but either way, you lay there, letting him use you but your mind is racing a thousand miles a minute.

It wasn't like you were inexperienced, you'd had sex before, albeit only with one man but that was neither here nor there when it was your brother currently grinding himself against your ass.

"Fuck!" You heard him mutter, his hand no longer rocking your body against him. "I need more, just a little more."

Slowly, you take your teeth off his thumb and whisper quietly. "Wha..." You gulp. "What do you need?"

"Your thighs." He whispers in your ear. "Help your Gēge this one time and I swear, I'll never ask again."

Your mind was at war, you didn't know how you felt about this. Part of you wanted it to be over, but a sick, small twisted part of you was enjoying knowing you had driven such an fine, upstanding man to such depraved madness. Either way, you didn't want him to leave you alone, especially not with the storm outside.

Deciding if this was what he needed to stay by your side, you parted your legs slightly in silent invitation.

"Thank you Mèimei." He chuckled slightly in your ear. You heard the zip of his jeans and slight rustle of clothing before feeling his now bare cock slot itself between your thighs, rubbing up against the gusset of your panties. "You always take care of me so well."

His hand closed your thighs around his cock as he slowly began thrusting in and out of the soft flesh between your thighs. As the head of his cock rubbed back and forth over your clit, your mouth sought out his thumb again. Your teeth biting gently into his flesh as you swallowed a moan.

You felt sick for enjoying this but why did it have to feel so good?

Caleb obviously felt no remorse about his actions, so why should you?

You whimpered as his tongue traced the shell of your ear and his cock rubbed up against that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again. Feeling guilty about getting off on having your brothers cock between your legs, you subconsciously tightened your thigh and squirmed away.

"Don't fight it, be a good girl for your Gēge." He panted in your ear, his thrusts beginning to become somewhat erratic, making the bed squeak slightly from his movements. "That's it, take it sweetheart, you can't run from me."

Soon you felt him stiffen and pull his cock from between your legs with a harsh grunt. You could hear the wet sound of his hand working over his cock before a whispered "fuck" filled the air.

Turning your head to look at his form before you, you saw him laying on his back, a pool of cum on his belly glowing in the moonlight. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you.

"I could feel your wetness." He told you eith a small smile. "Let me take care of you."

You know you shouldn't, but the throbbing need between your legs had won out. Rolling over to face him, you went to open your mouth to agree when you were heard the cough from the bedroom down the hall.

Grandma...

Our Grandma...

It was like ice water had been dumped on you. You jumped out of your bed and made your way into the shared bathroom, locking the door behind you as you sat on the ground, panting.

You shook your head. You had been ready to let your brother bring you to orgasm. What was wrong with you.

You wanted to cry but the ache between your legs was too much to ignore.

"Shit, shit, shit." You mutter as you give in and slide your fingers under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your clit in fast little circles. It didn't take much before the muscles in your legs tightened and your head fell back, as you released a silent moan.

Your panties were soaked through with a mix of Calebs pre-cum and your arousal. You had to change them.

Pulling yourself off the bathroom floor, you unlocked the door and went back into your room to find it empty. Sighing you flopped back on the bed and realised, you wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Early the next morning, you carefully made your way downstairs, mindful of the other two people sleeping in the house. You began quietly going about making some toast that you desperately needed to sooth your stomach.

You had been up for most of the night, your fingers buried deep inside you as you remembered the feel of Calebs cock between your legs. Shame and guilt swirled in your mind so much that you didn't hear the two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and making their way into the kitchen.

"Good morning." Your Grandma said, taking you by such surprise that when you spun to face the voice, you knocked off a photograph from its place on the cabinet.

"Sorry." You gasped leaning down to picked up the frame.

"It's okay, dear." Your Grandma said, taking it from your hands to inspect. "It's not broken."

Looking down, you saw a photo of you and Caleb at the park. You sat on his lap on the swingset as he soared the two of you through the sky.

"You always did love the swings." You felt Calebs' breath stir the hair on the top of your head as he leant over you to see the photo.

"I still do." You gave a slight chuckle, trying your best to play it calm.

"You should see it now. They've really done it up." Grandma tells the two of you.

Caleb turns to you and offers a small smile. "Sound like a plan, pipsqueak? We can go to the park, just like old times."

You feel yourself relax and smile back. "Yeah, I'd like that."

[werecreature-addicted]

Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

[leonastarry]

{14} Almost ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x fem!reader Note: slight angst

You should have known.

You should have seen it coming—the way he looked at her, the way his eyes softened in a way they never did with you. But hope is a cruel thing, and you’ve let it fool you for too long.

Sung Jinwoo has always been kind to you.

He walked you home after late-night raids. He checked your wounds before he checked his own. He laughed at your silly jokes, even when no one else was laughing.

But kindness isn’t love.

And love is what he has for her.

You sat next to him at the Hunter Association headquarters, pretending not to notice the way he looked around the room. Pretending it didn’t hurt.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Your voice was softer than you intended, but Jinwoo didn’t seem to notice. He just smiled—a small, genuine smile that made your chest ache.

“She’s beautiful.”

Of course she was.

Haein was everything you weren’t. Soft, sweet, naturally charming. She didn’t have to fight for his attention. She just had it.

And you?

You were just his friend.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was late when Jinwoo found you on the roof of the Association Building, staring out at the city lights. The air was crisp, biting against your skin, but you welcomed the cold.

You hadn’t expected him to drape the sweater over your shoulders.

“… You’ll get sick,” he said, his voice soft.

You held the fabric between your fingers. It was warm. It smelled of him. And for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this meant something.

Maybe—just maybe—he looked at you the way you looked at him.

But the illusion was shattered when he spoke again.

“I gave my scarf to Haein before. She gets cold easily.”

You squeezed his hand tighter.

Of course.

This warmth wasn’t yours.

It had never been yours.

But you smiled anyway. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Jinwoo chuckled, oblivious to the storm in your chest. “I’m lucky.”

And just like that, you felt the last shred of hope inside you crumble.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fact that he loved her, or the fact that he never even thought about loving you.

But some people are destined to be side characters in other people’s love stories.

And you were just Jinwoo’s friend.

That’s all you’ll ever be.

So you swallowed the words you would never say. Buried them deep inside, where they couldn’t hurt anyone but you.

And when Jinwoo left that night, you let him take your heart with him.

Because he never belonged to you in the first place.

Jinwoo was happy.

And you told yourself that was enough.

Even when his happiness wasn’t with you, even when his heart belonged to someone else, you swallowed your pain and smiled as if it didn’t hurt. Because that’s what friends do.

That’s what you did.

But something changed after that night on the rooftop.

Maybe it was the way I started to distance myself—just a little, just enough to protect myself. Maybe it was the way I started to refuse nighttime walks, the way I didn’t linger when you smiled, the way I stopped looking at you like you were the center of my world.

I thought you wouldn’t notice.

But Jinwoo did.

At first, it was just the little things. His eyes lingering on me a little longer. He stopped when I walked forward. Something unreadable when I avoided his eyes.

And then—

“Are you avoiding me?”

His voice was soft, but it cut through the air between them like a knife.

You froze. “… What?”

Jinwoo looked at you, his brows furrowed slightly. “Lately… I’ve been feeling different about you.”

You forced a smile. “That’s crazy. We’re still the same as always.”

He didn’t seem to believe it. But before he could say anything more, Haein called his name from across the room.

And just like that, he turned away.

And you let him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The problem with unspoken feelings is that they don't just disappear.

They persist. They fester. They grow in the silence between words, in the moments that aren't spoken.

And Jinwoo—who's always focused, who's always sure of everything—began to feel uncertain.

It all started when Haein noticed.

"You've been losing focus lately," she mused one afternoon, tilting her head to look at him.

Jinwoo blinked. "Am I?"

Haein smiled, but there was something in her eyes. "It's [Name], right?"

His breath hitched. "What?"

She chuckled. "You've been looking at her differently."

Jinwoo opened his mouth to deny it. But then—he hesitated.

Why hadn't he?

Hadn’t he started noticing the way your laughter didn’t reach your eyes? The way your smiles felt just a little more forced? Hadn’t he caught himself searching for you in a crowded room, feeling restless when you weren’t there?

Hadn’t he started wondering why your absence felt like something was missing?

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he muttered.

Haein just smiled. But this time, it was bittersweet.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It happened on a cold evening.

You had stayed late at the Association to finish paperwork, and Jinwoo had offered to take you home. Old habits. A familiar habit.

But tonight, something was different.

Maybe it was the way you walked a little farther away. Maybe it was the way the streetlights cast shadows on your face, making the pain in your eyes harder to hide.

Or maybe it was because—for the first time—Jinwoo was looking at you not as a friend.

But as someone he had never actually met before.

“…Can I ask you something?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

You hummed in response, still looking at the road.

Jinwoo hesitated. And then—

“Have you ever loved me?”

You stopped walking.

The silence between the two of you was thick and suffocating.

Finally, you let out a small, broken laugh. “What kind of question is that?”

Jinwoo swallowed. He clenched his hands at his sides. “Please.”

Then you turned to face him.

And your eyes—raw, painful, endless sadness—were enough of an answer.

But all you said was, “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

And then you walked away.

And for the first time in his life, Sung Jinwoo felt helpless.

Because it really did matter.

It mattered more than anything.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jinwoo couldn’t sleep.

Your words—It doesn’t matter, does it?—repeated in his head, a cruel echo of everything he’d been too blind to see.

It mattered.

It mattered so much that it made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t used to.

Because when did your absence start to feel like a part of him was missing?

When did he start to notice the way you bit your lip when you were lost in thought? The way your eyes softened right before you smiled? The way your presence was always there, steady and constant—until suddenly, it wasn’t anymore?

And why—why did it take losing you to realize that he wanted you?

Jinwoo cursed under his breath, grabbing his jacket. He wouldn’t let it end like this.

Not when he finally figured it out.

Not when he knew what he should have known all along.

You didn’t expect a knock on the door in the middle of the night.

And you definitely didn’t expect to see Jinwoo, standing there with his hair a mess, breathing heavily, as if he’d run all the way here.

“…What are you doing here?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

Jinwoo didn’t answer right away. His eyes searched yours—hesitant, uncertain—before he finally spoke.

“I need to talk to you.”

You swallowed, your heart pounding. “Jinwoo, it’s late—”

“I know.” His voice was firm but gentle. “But if I don’t say this now, I don’t think I’ll ever say it again.”

You hesitated, but then sighed, stepping aside. “Come in.”

Jinwoo walked in, but he didn’t sit down. He just stood there in your living room, looking at you like he was still trying to figure out where to start.

After a moment of silence, he finally let out a breath.

“I’m an idiot.”

You blinked. “What?”

His hands clenched at his sides. “I’m an idiot for not seeing it. For not realizing what I had right in front of me.” His voice was quieter now, hoarse with emotion. “I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I had it all figured out. But then… you started pulling away. And suddenly, I felt like I was losing something I didn’t even know I needed.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “Jinwoo…”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” he continued, taking a small step closer. “I don’t even know if I deserve it. But I do know that I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

His voice shook slightly, but his eyes—those deep, dark eyes that always felt like home—were nothing but sincere.

“I want you,” he admitted, almost in a whisper. “And I don’t know if it’s too late, but… if there’s still a chance, I want to try.”

Silence.

Your chest felt tight, as if it was caught between breaking and healing at the same time.

For so long, you had dreamed of this moment—him seeing her. Wanting you the way you wanted him.

And now that it had happened, you didn’t know what to do with the pieces of your heart that had been broken for so long.

So you said the only thing that came to mind.

“…What about Haein?”

Jinwoo’s expression softened. “I thought she was the one I wanted.” He shook his head. “But the truth is, I was just chasing after what I thought I should have. Not what I really needed.”

His eyes locked onto yours, unwavering.

“And I need you.”

Your breath caught.

This was real.

This was him choosing you.

For the first time.

Jinwoo took another step forward, closing the distance between you.

“I won’t rush you,” he whispered. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You looked at him—really looked at him—and saw nothing but raw honesty in his eyes. No hesitation. No confusion. Just him, standing there, giving his heart in a way he’d never done before.

Maybe it had taken too long.

Maybe the pain wouldn’t go away overnight.

But right now, standing before him, you realized something.

You still wanted to try.

So you took a shaky breath. And then, finally—

“…Okay.”

Jinwoo’s shoulders slumped in relief, a small, hopeful smile breaking the tension.

And for the first time in a long time, the pain in your chest felt a little lighter.

Because maybe—just maybe—this time, he's almost yours anymore.

Because he is yours now.

[mintyys-blog]

BRAT TAMER— dark! bucky barnes x brat! stark! reader

WARNINGS: alcohol, suggestive scenes, age gap, power imbalance, brat behaviour, dark themes, tramp stamp, harassment, swearing, SMUT.

MINORS DNI

You knew exactly what you were doing.

The moment you stepped into the Avengers Tower, heels clicking against the pristine marble floors, every pair of eyes flicked to you. Not that you cared. In fact, you reveled in it. The attention. The annoyance. The way your father, Tony Stark, ran a hand down his face the second he saw your outfit—if it could even be called that.

A tiny crop top, barely-there shorts, and heels that made your legs look like they went on forever.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered under his breath.

You smirked, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you waltzed past him like you owned the place. “Daddy, that’s not a very warm welcome,” you pouted. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “Do you ever dress appropriately? Just once?”

You scoffed. “What’s the fun in that?”

Truthfully, you liked pushing his buttons. You’d been doing it for years, and it never got old. Tony Stark, billionaire genius, could handle aliens, mad scientists, and world-ending threats—but his own daughter? A nightmare in designer heels.

“Where’s Morgan?” you asked, though you didn’t really care.

“In her room. And don’t—”

Too late. You were already walking in that direction.

Tony sighed, shooting a look at Steve and Bucky, who had been watching the interaction silently. “I don’t know what to do with her.”

Bucky’s stare lingered as you disappeared down the hallway. You had that effect on people—especially men. And you knew it.

Morgan adored you.

Which was the problem.

She was ten, all wide eyes and admiration, soaking up every little thing you did like a sponge. And Tony? He hated it.

You sat on her bed, lazily scrolling through your phone as she rattled on about school, her friends, some dumb science project Tony was helping her with. You weren’t really listening.

“Can I do my hair like yours?” Morgan asked suddenly, eyes shining with hope.

You smirked. “You wanna be like me, huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Tony’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “No, she doesn’t.”

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. “Morgan, go get ready for dinner,” he said firmly.

Morgan hesitated, looking between the two of you before reluctantly nodding and slipping out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s the influence you don’t want?”

Tony stepped inside, lowering his voice. “I mean it, Y/N. She looks up to you. I won’t let you screw her up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Dad. I’m not telling her to go rob a bank.”

“No, but you are showing up dressed like that,” he shot back. “Parading around like you have no responsibilities, blowing through money like it’s endless—”

“Isn’t it?” you cut in, smirking.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Nothing,” you said simply, standing up and stretching, the hem of your top riding up just to be provocative. “Because I don’t live under your roof anymore, remember?”

You walked past him, brushing against his shoulder as you left.

And just like that, you were gone.

Later that night, Bucky found you at the bar.

You were perched on a stool, sipping a martini, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator looking for prey.

He slid onto the stool beside you, silent at first. You noticed him, of course. How could you not? He was hard to ignore—tall, broad, that metal arm glinting under the dim lights.

“Well, well,” you mused, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a bar kind of guy.”

Bucky shrugged, eyes flickering over your outfit. “Didn’t take you for the kind of girl who needs attention to survive.”

You grinned. “Oh, but I do. What’s life without a little fun?”

“Fun,” Bucky repeated, tone unreadable. “That what you’re looking for?”

You leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the bar, chin propped in your hand. “Depends. You offering?”

His jaw tensed. You were pushing. Flirting. Teasing. And you knew it was working.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice low.

You smirked. “Isn’t it?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Careful, sweetheart.”

You arched a brow. “Or what?”

He didn’t answer. Just took a sip of his drink, eyes lingering on you.

Breaking the Brat

Part Two

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

Bucky didn’t play your game.

That was the first thing that set him apart from the others.

Most men—especially the older ones—were predictable. Easy to manipulate. A bat of your lashes, a sultry smile, a teasing touch, and they’d trip over themselves to get what you wanted.

But Bucky? He saw right through it.

And that? That made you want to play even more.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” You leaned in, close enough that your perfume lingered between you. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”

Bucky glanced at you, unimpressed. “You really think you’re a challenge?”

You pouted. “Aw, that’s cute. You think I’m easy?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I think you’re loud. And desperate for attention.”

Your smirk didn’t falter. “And yet, here you are, giving it to me.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just took another sip of his drink, jaw tight.

That’s what intrigued you the most.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to snap, to put you in your place. You could see it in his eyes. The restraint. The discipline. It was a game of tug-of-war, and you were determined to win.

“So, tell me,” you mused, twirling the olive in your martini between your fingers. “What does a guy like you do for fun?”

Bucky didn’t blink. “Nothing you’d survive.”

A thrill shot through you.

“You don’t know what I can handle,” you said, licking the martini off your lips.

His gaze flickered there, just for a second. A small victory.

Then, he downed the rest of his drink and stood.

“Go home, kid.”

Kid.

The word sent a rush of irritation through you.

You weren’t a kid. You were a woman. A woman who could make grown men fall at her feet. A woman who could ruin a man if she wanted to.

And yet, Bucky Barnes just brushed you off like an inconvenience.

How dare he?

You watched him walk away, the muscles in his back flexing under his shirt. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t give you the satisfaction.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something foreign settle in your chest.

Frustration.

The next few weeks were fun.

For you, anyway.

You pushed. Bucky ignored. You flirted. He scoffed. You touched, teased, invaded his space—nothing.

He was a wall. Unshakable. Unmoved.

It only made you worse.

You made sure to wear the shortest skirts when you knew he was around. The highest heels. The tightest tops. You batted your lashes, brushed your fingers against his arm, pressed close to whisper things that weren’t exactly appropriate.

Still, nothing.

But you weren’t an amateur at this game.

Men had limits. And you were going to find his.

Tony had given up on you. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” he groaned, rubbing his temples as you scrolled through your phone.

“What now?” You didn’t bother looking up.

“You know exactly what. Do I need to spell it out? The credit card charges. The tabloids. The—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “The fucking tramp stamp!”

You smirked, tilting your head. “You like it?”

Tony clenched his jaw. “You got it two hours after I told you not to.”

“Your point?”

He muttered something under his breath before shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do with you, kid.”

Your smirk faltered. There it was again. Kid. First Bucky, now Tony. You weren’t a child.

And you were going to prove it.

That night, you went too far.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

The compound was quiet. Late. Most of the team had turned in for the night, but you knew Bucky was still awake.

You found him in the gym. Alone.

He was mid-rep, lifting weights that made your arms ache just looking at them.

You leaned against the doorway, watching, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Wow,” you drawled. “Those arms could do some damage.”

Bucky didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge you.

You stepped inside, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

Nothing.

You let out a dramatic sigh, strutting over to where he stood. “Ignoring me again? Starting to think you don’t like me, Barnes.”

He finished his set, setting the weights down with a quiet thud.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

You stepped closer, trailing a manicured nail down his metal arm. “I bet you could wrap this around my throat and snap it like a twig.”

That got him. Bucky’s head snapped toward you, eyes dark.

Oh, that was satisfying.

“You wanna test that theory?” His voice was low. Dangerous. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t stupid. You knew when you were poking a bear. But that was half the fun.

“I dunno,” you mused, pressing closer. “Might be fun.”

Bucky exhaled slowly. You could practically see him forcing himself to relax.

Then, he turned and walked away. Just like that. No reaction. No anger. No fire.

It was… disappointing. Until he spoke.

“You should be careful, Y/N.” You frowned. “Of what?”

Bucky stopped at the door, back still to you. “Of what happens when I finally stop holding back.” Then, he was gone.

You stood there for a long moment, staring after him. And for the first time, your smirk faded. Because for the first time, you wondered… Had you finally pushed too far?

It had been a week since Bucky’s warning. A week of silence.

You were used to attention—hell, you craved it—but this was different. The absence of Bucky’s usual snarky responses, his cold stares, his barely-contained tension—it was unsettling. You found yourself looking for him more than you cared to admit. You’d cornered Tony about it. “Where’s Bucky? He’s been MIA.”

Tony didn’t even look up from his work. “I don’t know. Probably avoiding you.”

“Really?” you asked, leaning against the counter. “You think so?”

Tony finally glanced up, his eyes tired but sharp. “Look, kid. I get it. He’s a good guy, but I’m not letting you run around playing your little games with him. Bucky’s not your usual prey.”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “I’m not a damn animal, Dad.” Tony didn’t flinch. “You sure about that?”

Two nights later, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

The Tower was dark, quiet—everyone else was either gone or asleep. You knew Bucky would be up, alone, in the gym. He was predictable like that.

You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting yourself.

A tight black leather jacket, a low-cut tank top that barely covered your chest, and black ripped jeans. Nothing too out there, but enough to make a statement.

Perfect.

You made your way down the long hallway, heels tapping softly on the floors, feeling the familiar rush of power as you approached the gym.

And there he was.

Bucky was lifting weights, his movements precise and fluid, his concentration unwavering. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you took the chance to observe.

He was different tonight. His body was tense, his jaw set as he worked through each set like a machine. But it was more than that. There was something in his eyes—something predatory.

And it made you want to push him.

You sauntered into the room, your presence noticeable, but Bucky didn’t look up. He kept going, each lift smoother than the last, each breath steady and controlled.

It was like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t like that.

“Why so serious?” you purred, stepping closer, your voice dripping with a flirtation you didn’t bother to hide.

Bucky paused for a moment, finally glancing at you. But he didn’t respond.

You took it as a challenge.

“You know,” you continued, sliding your hands down your sides provocatively, “if you need some motivation, I could give you a reason to work a little harder.”

Bucky didn’t move. He just stared at you, his gaze unreadable.

“Come on, Barnes,” you cooed, moving closer, your breath warm against the cool air of the gym. “What’s it going to take to get a rise out of you?”

This time, he spoke. His voice was low and measured, like a warning. “You’re treading on thin ice, Y/N.”

You smirked. “I like the danger.”

Bucky finally set the weights down, his movements slow but purposeful. He stepped toward you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place—anger? Frustration? Or something more?

“Last warning, kid,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist before you could react, his grip firm but controlled.

You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “What are you going to do if I don’t listen, huh? Hit me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his body. It was palpable, like a string pulled tight, waiting to snap.

“I warned you,” Bucky growled, voice gravelly.

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch.

And there it was—the raw, unfiltered power.

You knew you were pushing him, but this time, you didn’t care.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, but laced with a dangerous edge. “And I don’t think you fully understand the consequences.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Try me.”

Bucky leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You won’t like the outcome.”

But you weren’t listening. You never were.

You let your fingers trail down his chest, teasing the edges of his shirt, pressing yourself closer to him. “You can’t tell me what to do,” you said softly, letting the challenge hang between you like a spark waiting to ignite.

His hand tightened on your wrist, pulling you away from the wall and turning you to face him fully. His blue eyes were dark, unreadable, like an ocean storm waiting to break.

“You think I’m just going to let you walk all over me?” His voice dropped an octave, as if he were tasting every word. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rising between you, the crackling tension unmistakable. For the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip—a flicker of something dangerous. And it made you want more.

“You think you can handle me?” you whispered, your lips inches from his. Without warning, Bucky kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was fierce—passionate, like he was claiming what was his. And you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, but the fire in his gaze only intensified. “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he warned, his voice dark with intent.

You stared at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And when you get burned, don’t come crying to me.” You shrugged, unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”

The next morning, you barely slept.

Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Bucky’s cold, intense stare—the way his hand had felt on your wrist, the heat of his lips against yours.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed someone with that much force, but it was the first time you felt… controlled.

And you hated it.

You didn’t like being controlled. You liked to be in charge. Always.

So why did the feeling linger? Why did the thought of Bucky’s hands on you—firm, unrelenting—cause a flutter in your chest?

You shook the thought away, brushing your hair back as you stood in front of the mirror. It was just a kiss. Just a moment. You didn’t need to make it anything more.

You picked out an outfit: a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, heels high enough to make your legs look longer than they were. You liked the way the dress clung to your curves, the way it accentuated everything Bucky had noticed last night.

This was a power play. A challenge. And Bucky? He was your target. You stormed out of your room, determined to confront him.

The gym was quiet again when you entered, the hum of the equipment filling the silence. You saw Bucky, of course. He was always here, always training, always keeping to himself. But today, he didn’t look at you when you walked in.

Not at first.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, though. He could feel you, even without looking. The game hadn’t ended last night—it had only just begun.

You walked toward him, a calculated sway in your hips. You made sure to stop just behind him, letting the scent of your perfume reach his nose, just close enough that he couldn’t ignore your presence any longer.

“Morning, Bucky,” you said, leaning over slightly, letting the fabric of your dress stretch just enough to make him notice.

He stopped mid-set, his fingers wrapping around the barbell before he set it down. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face you. His gaze was icy, but there was something more there now—a flicker of something darker. Something that told you he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted to be.

“What do you want?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it.

You grinned, stepping closer. “I thought we could talk.”

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You smirked, leaning in a little closer, lowering your voice to a whisper. “About last night.”

His jaw clenched. “I told you, Y/N—”

“You told me a lot of things.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But you didn’t tell me you’d be so rough. So… possessive.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re pushing it,” he warned, his tone deadly serious now.

“Am I?” You tilted your head, pretending to be innocent, but you saw the way his eyes flashed, the tension in his body that told you he was on the edge. “I think you like it, Bucky. I think you like the challenge.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. He didn’t let go, not yet. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

A small laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, Bucky,” you teased, tracing your fingers down his chest slowly, “I don’t think I’m going to regret anything.”

This time, when you looked up at him, there was no teasing in your gaze. There was only a challenge. A dare.

Bucky looked at you for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each breath, like he was trying to calm himself. Then, slowly, he released your wrist.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he muttered. “And I don’t think you realize just how dangerous it is.”

You stepped back, keeping your eyes on him. “I can handle danger.”

Bucky stared at you, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something dark, something possessive, something that made your heart race.

But then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

“Keep pushing, Y/N,” he said, his voice low, his tone deadly serious. “And I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You smiled sweetly, tilting your head. “I’m counting on it.”

The next few days were a blur.

Bucky was everywhere you went. He was there when you went to the gym, there when you walked past the training room, there when you entered the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly following you, but he was always within your sight. Always within your reach.

And it drove you crazy.

You didn’t get what it was. You didn’t get why he was always near, always present. He wasn’t ignoring you anymore, but he wasn’t giving you the satisfaction either. He was… patient.

And that was something you weren’t used to.

You tried everything. You wore the sexiest outfits. You made flirtatious comments. You pushed every button you knew would make him snap.

But Bucky just watched you. Always watchful. Always calm.

The lack of reaction was maddening.

But it was that last night—when you were so tired of being ignored—that you decided to confront him. You were done waiting.

The Tower was empty again, except for you and Bucky. You knew he’d be in the gym again—he always was.

When you walked in, you didn’t say a word. You just walked up to him, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.

It was desperate. It was messy.

It was exactly what you wanted.

Bucky froze for a moment, not expecting it, but when he didn’t pull away, when he kissed you back with an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body, you realized—maybe this time, you weren’t the one in control.

Bucky’s hands gripped your arms, but he didn’t pull you away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with more force than you were used to, his hands now roaming, pulling you closer.

When he pulled away, his eyes were dark, and his voice was low, husky. “I warned you, Y/N.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of power. “Yeah, well, I don’t listen.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. “You will. Eventually.”

Breaking the Brat

Part Six

Pairing: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Stark!Brat!Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, bratty behavior, suggestive themes. Slow burn.

The days following that night felt like a tightrope walk—one wrong move, and you would fall. But there was something intoxicating about it. Bucky had made it clear he was done tolerating your behavior, but the power dynamic between you both had shifted. There was no going back, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

Bucky didn’t let things slide, though. You could feel his presence everywhere you went, like a constant reminder of your recklessness. His eyes followed you. The way he looked at you, all sharp edges and unspoken threats, had you on edge in ways you never imagined.

The next time you saw him, you weren’t sure how things would play out. It was a casual party at Tony’s mansion, the kind of event that usually left you feeling invincible. But tonight, something was different. Bucky had been quieter than usual, lurking in the background, watching you as you flitted from one person to another. You could feel his gaze, like a weight on your back. But you weren’t going to let it bother you. You were untouchable, weren’t you?

The music was loud, the room filled with the usual mix of celebrities, billionaires, and socialites. You could already feel your heels digging into the floor as you made your way to the bar, a playful smirk on your lips. You weren’t about to let Bucky’s behavior dictate how you had fun.

But, of course, Bucky was there. Watching. Always watching.

You noticed him in the corner, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched. He was talking to Steve, but his eyes never left you. Every move you made, every glance you cast, every word you said, seemed to send a ripple through him. It was driving you crazy, the way he had this hold on you. You could feel the tension between you both, building like a slow burn.

And then, just like before, you saw him. The older man, tall, graying hair, expensive suit. He was alone at the bar. Perfect.

You walked over, letting the sway of your hips catch his attention. He looked up, eyes widening as they took you in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said, his voice smooth, a hint of admiration behind it.

You leaned against the bar, giving him a sly smile. “Just looking for someone to have some fun with. You seem like you might be a good candidate.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing the rim of his glass as he studied you. “I think I could be persuaded.”

The instant his hand landed on your waist, you knew you had him. He was eating out of your palm, just like you wanted. But then you caught Bucky’s stare from across the room. He was rigid now, his eyes narrowed, his face tense with something that could have been fury—or something worse.

You felt a thrill rush through you.

You led the older man to the couch in the corner, barely glancing back at Bucky. You wanted him to feel it. The jealousy, the frustration, the helplessness. You wanted him to see you as something untouchable, something out of his control.

But before the man could do anything more than adjust his tie, Bucky appeared in front of you, his cold gaze fixed on the older man for a split second before he turned back to you. His voice was sharp, barely contained. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

You looked up at him, your lips curling into an innocent smile, though you could tell from the vein popping in his neck that he wasn’t playing anymore. “I’m not done here yet,” you said, but there was no mistaking the challenge in your tone.

Bucky’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist with enough force to make you gasp. “You don’t get to make that decision.” He jerked you to your feet, dragging you past the man who was still trying to process the sudden intervention.

“Bucky—”

“You think you can flirt your way into whatever you want, don’t you?” His voice was low, each word like a warning. “You think this game is funny, but you’re out of your depth.”

You pulled your wrist from his grip, but the way he was looking at you made you feel cornered, trapped in a way that only fueled your defiance. “Maybe I just like making you mad,” you shot back, not even trying to hide the challenge in your voice.

“Is that it? You get off on making me angry?” His eyes darkened, the tension between you both thickening with each passing second.

You tilted your head, the playful edge in your voice never wavering. “Maybe I do.”

For a brief moment, the two of you just stood there, the silence crackling like a live wire. You could feel the pulse in your throat, the heat building between you both, thick and heavy. But just as quickly, Bucky’s expression shifted.

He grabbed your arm again, this time not in anger, but with a calculated force. He was done with the game.

Without a word, he dragged you to a private room, locking the door behind you. The silence inside felt suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his presence, pressing in on all sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was harsh, the words coming out through gritted teeth. You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed, still maintaining your playful attitude.

“What? He was just a little older than usual. What’s the harm in flirting with someone who can buy me anything I want?” Bucky’s eyes burned with frustration as he took a step closer, crowding you against the wall.

“The harm is that you’re reckless. That man was old enough to be your father. What the hell are you trying to prove?” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between you both crackling like electricity. But you weren’t scared—not even a little.

“Are you mad that I wasn’t flirting with you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling the rush of satisfaction return. You took a step forward, closing the distance between you, and kissed his jaw softly, just enough to leave your lips tingling with the sensation of his skin. Bucky stiffened at the contact, his expression flickering for a moment before his jaw clenched.

“This isn’t a game, Y/N,” he growled. “You think you can toy with me like that? I don’t give a damn about who you’re flirting with, but don’t be reckless.” You smirked, stepping back slightly, letting your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “So what, you’re going to punish me for having a little fun? You don’t get to control me, Bucky.”

You were too close to him now, too close to that dangerous edge. The way he was looking at you… it was like a warning. You could feel the tension in his body, in the way his hands gripped your wrists like he was trying to anchor himself.

“You’ve made your point, Y/N,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “But you’re not going to keep doing this. Not while I’m around.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with that same cocky smirk. “And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Bucky stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You have no idea what you’re messing with.” His voice was tight, every word soaked with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “You think you can keep pushing me? Keep playing games with me? I’m not like the other men you’ve been with.”

You laughed, though there was a nervous tremor behind it. “Oh, I know. You’re different. You’re better.”

His lips curled into a dark smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Better doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate you for much longer.”

And in that moment, something inside you snapped. You pushed off the wall, your hand reaching out to tug at his shirt. “Then make me stop, Bucky,” you whispered, your breath catching in your throat.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then, with a low growl, his lips crashed against yours. It was harsh, unrelenting. His grip on your arms was firm, his body pressing you against the wall as if he were determined to break you.

And, in a way, he was.

Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened. His metal fingers brushed your jaw, cold against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the fire burning between you. His touch wasn’t soft—it was controlling, deliberate.

You should have been scared.

You weren’t.

Instead, you smirked up at him, eyes glittering with mischief, waiting to see how far you could push him. “You gonna lecture me all night, old man, or are you just mad I got someone else’s attention?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. His thumb traced your lower lip again, slower this time, like he was testing something—testing you. “That what you wanted? To make me jealous?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as your pulse betrayed you, hammering against your ribs. “Seemed like it worked.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your chin suddenly dropped, only for his hands to find your hips instead. Without warning, he spun you around, pressing your front against the wall. The cold surface met your palms, your breath hitching as he leaned in close, his chest flush against your back.

“You have no idea what you’re playing with, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his voice dangerously low. “You think this is a game? Flirting with men like that, just to get a rise out of me?”

You swallowed hard, though you kept up the act, arching your back slightly, pressing yourself against him just to see how far you could push him. “You make it too easy, Sarge.”

Bucky let out a dark chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His metal hand gripped your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was reminding you of the difference between the two of you. “You think you’re untouchable ‘cause you’re a Stark? That daddy’s money keeps you safe?”

You turned your head slightly, your cheek brushing the wall, a defiant glint in your eyes. “So what? You gonna teach me a lesson?”

Bucky’s hand slid lower, gripping your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers squeezed, just enough to make your breath catch. “Someone has to,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

The tension crackled between you like a live wire, thick with something neither of you wanted to name. His fingers flexed against your skin, as if he was holding himself back, teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

Then, just as suddenly as he had pressed you against the wall, he pulled back.

You spun around, eyes blazing, chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “That’s it?” you taunted, tilting your head. “All that talk, and you’re just gonna walk away?”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a voice quieter than before, but twice as dangerous, he said, “who said I was walking away?” The door clicked, signalling it being locked. His dark eyes found yours once more, he closed the space between you both.

His hands were gripping your body, and you pressed your chest into his. Your tongues intertwined and grinding your body against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he picks you up and sets you on the table, hiking up your dress to your waist. He pauses, “no panties? Naughty girl..” you squeaked when his cold metal fingers dipped inside your warm wet walls.

You gasped his name, as he pumped his fingers continuously. He added another finger, you whined at the stretch “Buck— its s’much”

“Shut up and take it, you were so desperate before now you crumble at my fingers?” He asked mockingly. He sucked on your neck, he didn’t care for being gentle, you didn’t deserve it— and you didn’t want it. You like the roughness, the control he had over you. You squeezed down on his fingers, your body twitching. “You gonna cum doll?” You moaned, “yes”

Right when you were about to he pulled out, staring down at you with a cold look. “Bad girls don’t get to cum. If you want to— beg me.”

Your eyes widened, really? He was making you bed for it? As if!

He resumed pumping his fingers, his other hand wrapped around your throat tightly— not enough to block air restriction. You would feel the knot in your stomach tighten, and right when you were about to cum again— he pulled out. You whined, “bucky..!”

“Beg or you don’t get to cum.”

You glared, not believing him. Until he did it again, and again. He was edging you and you were about to lose your mind. “Please.. bucky”

“Please what,doll?” He smirked, “please let me cum!” Satisfied, he thrust his fingers in once more, finally bringing you to an orgasm. You screamed his name, luckily the loud music outside prevented it from being heard from the party. “Good girl..” he kissed your head as you panted.

Then he flipped you over, pressing your head into the table. “Bucky!” You gasped. He slapped your ass, watching as it ripples. He gently touches the spot that he hit, it slowly turning a red colour. “I know you like that so don’t even try to hide it, doll” you whined once more, and without warning, he thrust inside.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth parts to scream his name. He fucks you senseless, listening as you get cock drunk— to stupid and fucked out to comprehend his words. Degrading you and he occasionally smacked your ass, his hips roughly snapping into yours. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back and pressing your back to his chest. He grabs your head and turns it to face him, kissing your mouth.

You feel yourself slipping, on the verge of climaxing again. “You look so pretty like this, doll” your makeup was smeared, cry’s watery and a bit of droll leaking from your mouth. You cum at his words. He continues thrusting, dropping your hair, and letting you fall on your stomach on the table once more. He threw his own head back, his cock twitching inside you before he came.

Ropes and ropes of cum, he pulled out with a pant, watching as your pussy was clenching around nothing, leaking of a mixture of both of your cums.

He smirks at his work, touching your ass before zipping up his pants. Whispering, “you’re mine, doll” before leaving.

You were breathless, and feel to your knees. You legs couldn’t stand— not without shaking. Still, you felt a sense of achievement.

This was far from over

[ma1dita]

when the curtains close

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> love me dry | next -> asking for trouble words: 5.3k summary: (post-tlt) The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Pollux, Annabeth, Percy, and Mr. D find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: yeah to me this fic sounds and feels like that tiktok of the girl humming to her microwave. depictions of the titular battle of the labyrinth at CHB, some blood/gore, death & grief. the usual. you forced me to by lizzy mcalpine. references to cat on a hot tin roof by tennessee williams if you squint (posted 5/14/24)

—

The first time Pollux has a panic attack, time seems to stop and the world keeps moving on without him.

He’s reminded of a time when you rambled on about how anxiety takes possession of the senses like a moment frozen in a snapshot meant for you to identify. In the memory, you had your feet kicked up on the dash flipping through a DSM-5 while he and Castor took turns speeding up and down Farm Road (totally normal older sister behavior from you, and when a cop pulled you over, the three of you narrowly escaped a ticket by talking in riddles and godly smoke that smelled like grapes). Pollux still remembers the sound of laughter in the car blending like three different chords to an archaic melody (or squawking crows in the strawberry fields)— the bond between you three laid out before time knew limits and was always meant to be.

It’s still his favorite song. You’re their favorite (and only) sister, they love to joke. These are facts that will never change.

“You two have each other, and well, I’ve got this,” you had said, the Zippo flicking open and closed against your thumb in the blossoming darkness of the car. Pink and purple rays of waning light blanketed the old hatchback as it steadily made its way back towards Half-Blood Hill, comfortable silence shared in the way only siblings can stand to be quiet—when there are no words needed to get a point across. But you’ve always set yourself apart from the pack, not needing anyone like how they need each other.

Not since Luke left, at least. The growing distance between you three since your untimely resignation from camp was proof enough. Pollux’s eyes met Castor’s in the rearview mirror as they both noticed your sad smile. His brother’s voice broke through the silence then, having always been the one blunt enough to say what was on his mind, “You’ve got us too if you let us see you more often.” Your fidgeting stops.

“It’s not you two, it’s just hard to be back here sometimes. I see things for what they used to be instead of how they really are now. Now it’s just… it has to be all business.”

Pollux cracked a smile, “S’what you get for growing up. Soon we’ll just be annoying voices in your head like you are to us.” Shutting your textbook, you turned to look at them from the passenger seat, eyes that match theirs darting between their blond heads, “All of us have to grow up eventually. Except maybe you two— I prefer you in my nightmares like the kids from The Shining. Whenever you get sick of Dad, come see me. Gods know that camp deserves a break from the two of you too.” Your knuckles knocked against both of their heads affectionately as he put the car in park, “My built-in bodyguards, huh? Always looking out for me.”

All words and meaning escape Pollux now as he stands in the greenery of the North Woods with battle gear ill-fitted to his large frame. It’s the first siege he’s ever taken part in, the first time he’s had to use battle strategies outside of Capture the Flag and the first time he’s slashed his way through monsters and demigods with the intent to try and kill or be killed. Sword and Shield could have never prepared any of them for this—as his eyes meet Castor’s and then yours with all of you thinking the same thing, the three of you join the sea of iridescent orange through mind-numbing black moving like a sharp three-pronged sword.

This type of stuff isn’t typical for him, he thinks. He and Castor are used to being comedic relief— being the source of laughs and juice boxes for pesky little campers instead of facing the real world outside the boundaries of the Mist. Perhaps your father babied them to make up for the time he lost with you, but there’s a moment where he wonders how being kept soft will keep him alive in a world as harsh as this one.

Childlike innocence is ripped away from them in the bubble they’ve inhabited until this moment. Home is now a warzone and like lambs set up for slaughter, the twins both turn to look at you as a shuddering gasp leaves your mouth at the carnage in your surroundings, monster blood and fallen friends and enemies at your feet. Breaking away from formation to take a deep breath, he looks at the sky and wonders where your father is, but smoke and soot fill his lungs and he coughs desperately for a breath of fresh air.

Pollux thinks he must have stopped breathing before Castor took his last breath. It wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but sometimes life was just funny like that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Just like you told him.

Castor was always the more manic one while Pollux knew how to endure. Children of Dionysus are forced to befriend insanity before it makes an enemy out of them—twisting the ugly into what’s real and creating something beautiful out of the deranged. You’ve shown the boys how you detach from emotion by recognizing the details—separating fact and fiction, a methodical process only describable by the blood that runs through your veins. Pollux doesn’t know where to start—everything happens so fast but it plays out in front of him like someone put the pieces together to a stop-motion animation.

He sees Castor’s sword fall to the ground when he gets slashed on the forearm and sees him get clubbed over the head with a metal weapon he’s only seen bad renditions forged for theater practices and hanging on the walls of the armory. Castor falls first to his knees, and then into the dirt with a thud. He never knew there could be that much blood coming out of a person, much less a mirror image of himself. Pollux sees your face come into his line of vision, deep maroon splatters on your face glittering with hints of ichor and then you’re moving because he can’t. The enemy is coming back for him now, and for a moment he wonders if Castor will be mad if he lets him. He sees you turn in an instant, swinging your sword down on the neck of the aggressor, a teenager not much older than he and his brother are—were. It’s funny how his brain immediately makes the switch to past tense, and how he can’t stop thinking about how he’ll now and forever be older than his twin. Pollux then sees you catch the body of the boy you just killed as life seeps out of him slower than it did for Castor.

It doesn’t make him feel any better, though.

His knees hit the ground next to his twin, touching the sludge of dirt soft like quicksand and moist with what he hopes is not blood, but Pollux is not quite sure of what else there is to hope for. His fist is wrapped around Castor’s shirtsleeve, touching faded orange and sweat as he holds on for dear life. Maybe if he tries hard enough his soul will still be intertwined with his. Your hand touches his shoulder, five fingers reaching out to brush the back of his neck and the feeling of your skin helps him refocus a bit, even if you’re saying something he can’t make out. Then the metal of your Zippo lighter feels cool to the touch within his palm and he knows what he needs to do.

The battle isn’t over, but for the three of you, everything stops here. There is no going forward without your brother. You were never meant to be children of war.

Pollux hears the sound of his heartbeat thundering through his ears, blood rushing through his veins and can’t help but notice the silence amid the chaos. There are no words fit for this—and even if there were, Castor and you were always the more talkative ones. He hears the spark of the purple flame between his fingers, blowing the smoke over him and his brother’s body, and their father’s powers blanket them like how you used to tuck them into bed, warm and safe. This is what your family is—unconventional and unending even in different realms of existence. And then Grover’s scream of panic echoes through the air and everyone hears that. Hysteria ensues as monsters and demigods alike run amok, and Pollux realizes he’s stopped shaking.

In his father’s domain, he will always find comfort.

You stand above him now directing campers calmly with a free hand—a brewing storm crackling underneath your skin that he now understands. Hidden by the illusion of smoke, Pollux’s tired bones rest alongside his brother’s dead ones— together as they always were meant to be.

The three of you together, his little family—that is a fact he hoped would never change.

The smell of grapes envelops him as he leans his forehead against your muddy leg… when did the battle end? It almost masks the scent of death that rips through the air as your hand brushes through his sandy hair. Pollux stinks of sweat and you stifle a laugh as you see him smell his armpit. You three were always the same type of fucked up. He doesn’t look down at Castor laid across his lap but knows he would’ve found it funny too. Ignorance of reality even for a moment serves as a comfort. Purple meets purple as he looks up at you with a smile that doesn’t fit his face anymore and he croaks, “Wonder what dad would say about our first battle…”

Glory was never meant to be this bittersweet—it tastes like blood in his mouth until he wipes it away from his cheek and realizes it’s Castor’s. In a way, it’s his too, everything about him and within him is exactly the same down to the star stuff the fates wove them from.

“I’ll be the one to tell him. You take care of Castor,” you answer, as if there’s anything else he would want to do and then he realizes you’re crying— and he’s seeing all of the pieces put together in front of him in this photograph in his mind.

Pollux blinks slowly.

Suddenly the image he has of you is more defined— there is new meaning to the sadness you could never shake off all these years, and he is too young to lose his greatest love, which makes him realize then that so were you.

How long does this have to go on? he wonders, grabbing onto your hand with an eagerness only comparable to the feeling he got when you and Luke whisked him and Castor away from Florida all those years ago. This punishment of living while half of his soul does not—what is he supposed to do next? This was supposed to be the safe place. There is nowhere left to run. His thumb rubs circles into the back of your shaking blood-soaked hand, a secret within the smoke.

Pollux thinks there will always be a part of him frozen in time now, a memory of this day hung up in his mind like a portrait as he holds Castor’s cold hand in his warm one.

—

Annabeth finds you in the middle of the strawberry fields before the sun sets. She knows you won’t be sleeping tonight, not if you can fight it— not when there’s so much to do. You’ve long grown out of your ripped-up and tie-dyed camp shirts, and the one slung on your frame is newly pressed and starchy from the storage room of the Big House, still stiff against your freshly washed skin. When she’s close enough to touch you, you’ve been scrubbed clean of today.

She doesn’t have to be a daughter of Athena to know that you know that she’s there even if you can’t see her, but for once she feels like she has to hide. For once, Annabeth Chase doesn’t know what to say. How can she explain the feeling of guilt that coils around her brain like barbed wire—how can she even begin to apologize for the thing wearing her brother’s skin, knowing that it killed yours? For once, her hubris is crushed by the sinking feeling of humiliation.

“Was your first quest all you thought it would be, Annie?”

As she takes her navy cap off, silver braided strands around her face wave in the wind as a reminder of what Luke put her through. Though as she looks at you now with your berry-stained fingers plucking at stems one by one instead of using your powers, she thinks that your mind is elsewhere—anywhere but here, where everything is a painful reminder of your five years as a camper.

Five years with Luke.

Mourning him isn’t a new feeling for either of you, even though he comes in and out of your lives like a poltergeist you want to bash across the head, just always out of reach. But he’s a constant, even when he’s not here and he’s what binds you two together as you huddle hidden away from the rest of camp.

“He did this for you.”

It’s not a question, more so a fact out of Annie’s mouth when you finally meet her eyes and sigh, “Luke’s always had a way going about things. The most stubborn man to ever live.” You toss another strawberry into the crate at your feet. No one’s working right now, trying to tend to the injured and the dead. Everyone’s doing their best to chase away the nightmares that are bound to come, and she knows you’ll be making rounds with her on the night shift to ease everyone’s anxieties. But there’s a thought so strong it makes her head hurt, bursting at the seams until she can’t stop with her last-ditch effort to fix her found family.

“Maybe if we find him, we can save—”

“He’s been out of time for a while now, Annabeth. We both knew that,” you say, voice firm and unwavering. You’ve never sounded so monotone before, and it hits her as her mouth falls agape, “You’re giving up on him? Why… why would you give up on him?” Anger courses through her veins like fire and she’s mad that she’s at the center of this prophecy, of Hermes’s anger for his doomed son who will love you until the ends of the earth.

And what of her?

What of the hope she has in happy endings, how is it that you’re so damn calm? Annabeth kicks at the crate, strawberries rolling out in different directions and your jaw tightens as you let her be petulant, let her scream and yell until her inner child can catch up with the reality of the world around you.

“How could you?”

Your name echoes as she repeats it, grabbing at your shoulders and she’s as desperate as the truth that shakes her when you cup her face in your hands and wipe her tears.

“You’ve carried the weight of the world Annabeth– you know what it feels like to let it go. It’s time to let him go. There’s nothing I can do or say to fix this.”

Then it hits her that you knew of his fate and yet this was still the outcome. There was nothing else to do but watch him be puppeteered by a Titan and have to fight evil while it wears his face.

“He came to you after he saw me, didn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you love him anymore?”

Because it wouldn’t have changed a thing, your eyes say. Instead, you grimace as you say, “Wouldn’t that be funny if it were true?” You lean down and pick up the fallen berries, some bruised and covered in dirt, and then you look at her again with teary eyes.

“Some prophecy huh? To lose a love to worse than death. What could we have done besides love him until the end?”

“He’s still in there. I know you know that too. Don’t talk about him like he’s not,” Annabeth insists, and a sad smile settles upon your face. It’s as gentle as the kiss of the breeze on your cheeks.

“I lost a brother today, Annie.”

“Me too.”

—

The funny thing about planning funerals is that with all the fuss it takes to organize one, you still find extra time on your hands. Barely getting any sleep and dragging yourself out of your dad’s bed, Pollux snores loudly next to you after hours of working on Castor’s shroud. Sleep wasn’t expected for either of you, but being unconscious was the only way of giving your brains a reprieve. The both of you have been busy doubling down on the preparations, even if it means Mr. D won’t be back in time while he’s out rallying gods for war.

The faster Castor’s earthly body is reconnected with his soul, the easier his trip will be into the Underworld, Nico says, and it’s funny how comforting the little emo pipsqueak can be when it comes to matters of death.

Perhaps this is the solace you bring to others with things you’re able to control—keeping camp afloat is something you were always good at, and helping every traumatized child that comes up to you for a juice box or a lullaby eases the guilt that follows you. Walking around Camp Half-Blood for more than a weekend made you feel like a judge, jury, and executioner. Though most of the campers from almost five years ago have either aged out, defected, or died—the ones that remain still look at you like you’re trouble.

Perhaps you always will be.

You even found yourself with the time to pray to Hermes last night for your brother’s safe passage into the afterlife, though if he’s angry at Annabeth, he must hate you for letting Luke go. Dinner didn’t seem appetizing enough anyway, so your whole plate was tossed into the hearth. You hope he likes chicken and rice.

But if a god can’t fight fate, what did he expect you to do?

The Iris Message to your dad last night was difficult, to say the least. Pollux’s hands shook as he continued to paint grape vines onto the silk cloth and the both of you didn’t say anything when your father started to cry. He out of all of the gods knows what it’s like to be tested to the limits—to endure pain and it’s a gift you and your brother are grateful for in times like these. Watching the god display the human emotion that either of you couldn’t as freely made it more real though.

There was also the interesting predicament of Chris Rodriguez being locked up in the basement of the Big House. Replacing screaming fits with serenity was almost second nature, and your gentle hands were what got Clarisse to truly respect you again for the first time in years. You could hear her sneak downstairs and talk to him while he slept (and the look in her eyes when you’d greet her with a cup of coffee made it known to you that she finally understands what it means to love someone who’s lost—two demigod daughters filled with a lot of rage and hurt were more alike than they think).

So the morning of your little brother’s funeral, you found yourself on the shoreline of Canoe Lake, setting your Redbull against the post of the dock and looking out onto the water.

You needed to do something with your hands. In the past few days, if your fingers were not occupied by pen and paper, a guitar, supply crates, or anything else that was helpful to others and all the more distracting for you, it’s been so easy to pick at any little thing. Perhaps it was your subconscious trying to reflect the damage on the inside, but today, your nail polish was chipped beyond belief. A small price to pay to not lose it without a signature boyish smile to ease your worries and amber eyes that could help you escape from the routine.

Running camp was always easier back then with your runaway boy and his scarred cheek.

How pathetic.

Crouched over in the sand, you plucked stones and filled your pockets with them. They knocked against each other — weighing your pockets down as you walked closer to the dock. Swinging your feet off the side and chucking them into the water, you could barely achieve a ripple.

It’s so quiet that you end up wondering if the rocks in your pockets would weigh you down to the bottom of the lake. It must be nice down there, to exist away from everything.

Bubbles surface slowly in front of you, then Percy’s head bobs in the water as he squints at you through sunlight.

“You chucked a rock at my head!”

A smile tugs at your lips, almost indiscernible but definitely there, “I was trying to skip them. Didn’t know you were doing water tricks in there, kid.” His grin gleams like freshwater pearls, pulling himself up onto the dock as his hand clasps yours. Shaking his sopping hair, Percy’s gangly frame sits next to yours like a wet bag of sand—all wrinkly and misshapen and sprinkling you with lakewater.

“Maybe next time don’t pick rocks the size of your fist. How many have you got in there? Your aim is scarily accurate,” he laughs and you huff and shake your head when his hand sticks into your pocket and takes out a few smooth ones to roll around in his hand. You mirror him, watching him skip a few stones into the water that reach a good distance before sinking into the depths of the lake.

There’s something sad about feeling comfortable to trauma dump on the teenage son of Poseidon, but with the way he grabs your arm at your third unsuccessful toss of a rock, you can’t do anything else but sigh.

“Why didn’t any of you call me, Percy?”

He was waiting for this question—it’s been banging around in his head since the beginning of Annabeth’s quest, and perhaps her talk with you yesterday didn’t go as expected so once again he’s left with the difficult part.

Things happen to turn out pretty difficult for him a lot, he's noticed.

Many things could have been made easier in the past few weeks: Ariadne being your stepmother and her blessing to you would’ve made the Labyrinth easier to navigate, and having another demigod to fight alongside him instead of a mortal girl would’ve been a plus too. But he looks at you with ocean eyes and a smaller smile that reminds you of how he looked at you when you dropped him off in Montauk the summer you met him and quit your head counselor job.

“You’ve already made a lot of difficult decisions. We weren’t sure if…”

The rotten wood beneath you creaks under your shifting weight as you turn to him, tucking your legs underneath your bottom.

“Didn’t think I could handle it?”

He shakes his head, “The opposite, actually. Annabeth has this notion that you’re the only one that can save him. You know, back on my first quest I met Luke’s dad and he told me something…”

You swallow instead of answering. There’s no way Percy is giving you Hermes’s advice right now. Somehow this feels like karmic retribution after years of spiting that asshole, and what he tells you next is more of a sign that it must be true.

“He said, ‘Do you know what that feels like? To be so close to someone you love knowing neither of you has any choice but to keep hurting each other?’ I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”

“With Luke and his mom?” you ask, picking at the remaining slivers of varnish on your thumbnail.

“With you and Luke. I didn’t call you, because… why would I want to see you hurt after everything?” Percy says this like it’s something he would do for everyone.

Perhaps it is, but the knot that forms in your throat feels as heavy as the boulder you almost sunk into his skull. He’s tall enough to lean your head against now, and you don’t mind the water spots that will form along the side of your funeral outfit. The shape of him it leaves will remind you of the little brother you gained through so much loss.

“Plus he has a new girlfriend. Absolute horse of a girl,” he jokes. It slips over your head but you still giggle, “I could’ve taken her.”

“I know, that was Grover’s worry. You’re prettier anyway…” Percy pauses, and then clears his throat, “You’ve always taken care of this place, y’know? Even after….I just think someone ought to take care of you.”

Your shoulder bumps against his as you finally skip a rock. It only bounces across the water twice and you think Percy might have had something to do with it, but you’re not bothered by the help this time around.

—

You wake up in the dark of night to see your dad looming in the doorway to his office. With drool and a post-it stuck to your cheek, he comes over to ruffle your hair in amicable silence.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” he chuckles, leaning over your shoulder to scan over the paperwork sorted into piles for him to sign from his absence.

“Hm. You wish,” you scoff, leaning against your arm as you look at him. He’s not in his usual eyesore of attire, wearing a clean-pressed suit with his hair slightly slicked back.

“You look good. The meeting went okay?”

“Grover will be fine. The Council of Cloven Elders? Not so much. Neither are the gods ready to take sides. Putting out little fires everywhere as we speak.”

The wheels of the office chair roll as you swing your feet, and if you both listen closely enough you can hear Pollux snoring upstairs. Chiron loved the earplugs you gave him.

Your father’s face smooths out a bit at the sight of you and the sound of his son’s breathing upstairs and he asks, “Are you? Good?”

A shrug slides off your shoulders, “How does one be good in a world like this one?”

A startling scream echoes off the walls of the Big House, rattling the floorboards from below as your father grimaces.

The work is never done for you two.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was worse when he first came here.”

“Don’t doubt it,” he mumbles, brushing lint off your shirt before he notices you’re donning neon orange. “Didn’t do laundry, princess?”

“Pollux and I haven’t gone back to our cabin since... I can wake him up if you—”

Mr. D shakes his head and goes to toss his body onto the couch against the window, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Dad? Do you think Chris is a bad person?”

A beat passes and you think he may have fallen asleep, but then his voice sounds like gravel scraping up his throat.

“I don’t think anyone can be bad, kid. I think it is more often that people get lost. What Rodriguez needs is someone to take hold of him gently, and hand his life back to him—you…Clarisse… that’s what we’re giving him.”

Now you’re silent, staring at the dust on his name placard at the edge of the desk.

“Do you think otherwise?”

He calls your name again, and you look up like you’re about to lie to him but don’t have the energy to.

“Princess, do you think you’re a bad person?”

He stands up and walks around to your side of the desk, sitting on the edge so you have to look at him.

“I killed someone. During the battle. Didn’t even think twice about it, slashed his neck as soon as Castor went down and…” you sniff. “I kill monsters, Dad, not children. How does that make me any different?”

The last time blood was on your hands like this it was Luke’s in the Garden of Hesperides. All these years later you ended up being right— the only person you vowed to get bloody for is Luke Castellan, and now in a twisted turn of fate, you’ve bloodied your hands because of him.

“Because you did it for your brother. There are no other explanations needed.”

He sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the drop in your shoulders, but your dad also sees the strength in your bones that spans generations and he knows you and Pollux are strong because you are both his.

“Humans believe in life everlasting—glory, as some call it, but they’re too focused on achieving it on earth instead of enjoying what life has to offer,” he scoffs, “Everyone has the guts to die, but no one has the guts to truly live. How sad.”

“His name was Rowan. Son of Hecate. I taught him how to whistle the summer I left. This is all my fault, Dad,” you say shakily as he comes near and pulls you into his side. He shushes you but you relent.

“Luke’s killing all these people to fulfill a promise he made for me. I’m just fucking disgusted with myself for being the cause of it all. What good life can I deserve when wherever I go I leave a trail of blood?”

Love and addiction must be so alike; to know that to be sober you can’t indulge in the vice ever again—not only does it hurt you, but others around you. But through the years you’ve always kept the taste of his name in your mouth, the feeling of his skin under your fingertips, and the knowledge of why he’s destroying the world so he can make you a better one. Insanity stems from fighting for so long that you embrace the pain; feeling something so intensely that when it consumes you you’re able to walk out the other side and wear it as armor.

Not everyone is hardwired to persevere.

There are moments like a night like these where it would be easy to give up. Instead, you pour two glasses of whiskey you’ve conjured and hand one to your dad. You both sip on your drinks slowly, embracing the crawling feeling of the burn.

“Liquor is one way out and death is another,” your dad sighs blissfully. He almost looks rejuvenated by the alcohol he knows he’ll hear about from Zeus later, but perhaps the death of his son is a good enough pardon.

“For some of us, we don’t have to think about the answer.”

Mr. D grabs a pen off the desk and starts signing papers to do something with his hands, and then you speak again, “I think I’d rather die for people I love,” and your dad’s attention whips to your blank face staring at the moon outside the window. “Instead of killing for them. I’ve never been a good soldier, Dad.”

Mr. D looks at you thoughtfully and wonders where all the time has gone that you sit there in front of him with more knowledge than him at your mortal age before saying, “You’re my daughter. You’re a fighter. Death is for chumps anyway.”

He lifts you by the arm to try to usher you up the stairs but you stay in his office chair swatting his hands away.

“Got work to do, you and I. Not getting rid of me until it’s done.”

“When are you going home?” he asks, pulling up a chair next to yours.

“I am home.”

You don’t look up from the papers you were filing, stubbornness leaking through your voice.

“If there is a war coming, I want to be home as much as I can. I’m finishing my last semester and I’ll be here before and after classes. You can’t stop me, dad.”

And he knows that too.

There is no such thing as leaving Camp Half-Blood for you.

Never for too long. Your love for it is scattered everywhere campers can see.

—

In all these years, you never believed I loved you. And I did. I did so much. I did love you. I even loved your hate and your hardness. - Tennessee Williams

[slothsluv]

watchful eyes -- arthur morgan

A/N: hellooo, this is a short imagine with mr. morgan and his beautiful eyes!! this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time and told myself i should either post it or it will stay in my drafts forever... but let me know lovelies if you would want a requested fic with this man. please enjoy <3

-------------------------

ARTHUR MORGAN would stare at you with pure adoration blossoming in his eyes. He couldn’t help it at all. He felt dirty letting his eyes lay on the purity of your skin. Man, he had no idea what had got into him lately, but he didn’t hate it, momentarily.

Whether you looked at him the same way or not, he enjoyed the fact that it was his own little secret in his mind to travel to. He became accustomed to thinking about you, to dreaming about you. You swam effortlessly in his mind; taking up every corner of space that occupied his brain. You were like a willow tree flowing with the wind and he caught onto your branches that blew. He was latched to you the moment he laid his sinful eyes on you that had seen more devilish things you could count.

Every morning, he had a routine set to steal glances at you before he was sent off on jobs that Dutch mentioned which seemed perplexed to him but he did so anyway. He’d brew a cup of coffee and lean against the many chestnut trees that surrounded the camp, awaiting for you to slip out of your tent and begin your morning that was oh so familiar to him. He’d pounce at any opportunity to be near you in hopes of you saying how good of a morning it is to wake up ‘fresh as a daisy’ and happy to live another day. No, he craved to hear your voice echo around his ears to the sockets of his brain to keep enclosed only for him.

Arthur Morgan clears his throat and his lips attach to the cold metal of the mug he gripped in his hand, letting the hot liquid of the morning brewed coffee run the course down his throat and settling into his stomach. A burn encased his mouth from the roof of his mouth to the small nerves of his tongues—he let out a sigh.

A tick of his tongue against his teeth was heard from the hot, black coffee he had made; “you burn yourself there?” He heard a small laugh form at the end of the sentence that was spoken. He noticed it was you besides him, getting the same coffee he had made from the camp into your own mug you held.

Arthur felt his face flush with red when he realized he was too occupied with the feeling of his coffee to see you escape from your tent and make your way next to him. He cleared his throat and licked the dryness of his lips, looking down and swishing the coffee back and forth in his mug with movements of his hand. He felt his whole body overtake the hotness emitted from the coffee and his mind numb with your presence overtaking his. He couldn’t believe the power you had over him and he hated the vulnerability he showed to himself.

Arthur could only let out a hum in response before he lifted the mug back to his mouth and let the cycle complete of utter chaos that erupted from the touch. Before he knew it, he felt his legs walk away from you and towards his own room that was enclosed to a smaller camp. His mind was still hazy and his nose was filled with your scent. He couldn’t believe how good you smelled despite the hours of unconsciousness you endured. He felt stupid. Out of control, even. What power did you have over him to make an outlaw, feared by many men, nervous to be near you?

But what Arthur didn’t know, he made you crazy as well. You knew he watched you. Studied every movement you made. You thrived off of it. The attention he showed you and the liberation he created to be seen. Every morning, you made sure to fix yourself up before heading out, knowing the man was waiting to lay his eyes on you.

You frowned, watching his back come into your sight as he walked away from you. Why couldn’t he hold a simple conversation with you? You tried and tried every day to get more than two words out of him, but it seemed to be beyond difficult.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Show Mommy

Synopsis: Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lina was doing things to you as you watched him on set. But what happens when you are invited to an after party and accidentally end up in Lee Know's room, and he's still in costume?

NSFW // 18+ MINORS DNI for the love of god.

Features: female reader x cross dressing aunty lino

Word count: 4.4k

This link though

nsfw warnings below.

Kinks and warnings: Mummy kink (Lee Know is referred to as Mummy), choking on cock (cutting off air supply), Edging, Light Dom/Sub, Pet names (Mummy, babygirl, kitten etc), Name calling (slut, whore), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (m rec), cross dressing, vaginal fingering, creampie.

a/n: This story was born out of an ask from friend @noellllslut She was after Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lino who fucks reader's brains out. It was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams but the themes fit the feel of this blog. So it now resides over here. Please welcome it make it feel at home 😘

Lee Know couldn’t help but notice the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him while he was on was the SKZ Family set. So he deliberately slouched back in his seat, spreading his legs unashamedly under the silk skirt he wore as part of his Aunty Lino costume. He knew what it was doing to you. You tried your hardest to look away, but your eyes kept returning to him, alternating between gazing at his beautiful dolled up face and wig, to almost drooling as you stared at his crotch. You knew what was underneath that dress, although you’d never seen it or experienced it first hand.

Lee Know had seen you around a few times now. You were the newest staff member of the catering service that sometimes provided refreshments and food to the group. You stood out like a sore thumb, actually, with your eyes wide, starstruck. You’d never been in such close proximity to idols before.

Lee Know thought you looked cute. He liked that you seemed flustered around him and the other members. But he also noticed that you didn’t seem to ever really be looking at them, but rather your gaze was always on him. Your stare made him feel flushed. Luckily the blush make up could hide the fact there was also a natural shade of pink burning on his skin.

You were looking at him almost shamelessly towards the end of filming. That’s why he kept opening his legs to sit “unladylike”. That’s why he raised his voice, bellowing angrily, confusing you with the alluring mix of feminine and masculine. That’s why he dared to glance right back at you whenever he looked around the room. He wanted to send you a message; that he knew you were watching him, and he wanted you to know that he was enjoying it.

You felt like you would certainly have a heart attack if he looked at you one more time. The way he sat back in the chair, feet planted far apart made you want to fucking straddle him then and there. He was taunting you with brief glances, and eventually outright stares. You felt an ache in your core and a wetness forming between your legs. Thank fuck this was almost over and you could pack up and leave.

“Hey!” Your colleague caught your attention. “Turns out they want to stay dressed up to go to the holiday house to have a party. Apparently you’re invited!” He exclaimed. “Maybe you could take all the spare food there. Come and help me pack and up and you can drive it over there now and set up.”

Well there goes going home. Wait. What? They invited you? You felt anxiety rising inside your chest.

“Here, let me help.” You turned towards the voice that broke your thoughts. Fucking Lee Know.

“Oh—“ you choked. “Um… it’s fine. Really.” You managed to say. He was standing awfully close to you. He wasn’t a lot taller than you were, and so you got a perfect close up view of his gorgeous face. His pretty almond eyes framed by the hair of the chestnut brown wig. How the hell were you going to survive the night? Both your nerves and horny levels were through the roof.

“I insist, kitten. Let’s get the lids on these, and I’ll help carry them out to the car.” He smiled kindly. Who were you to deny him? You were told by your boss when you started this job to do anything the idols want. If they want to help you, then you had to let them.

You felt his eyes on you as he followed you out to your car, hoping he wasn’t looking at your ass.

“So, I’ll be seeing you at the party tonight, yeah?” He asked closing the car boot and turning to lean on it.

“Well I have to be there - all the food is in my car now.” You chuckled like an idiot, then looked down at your feet.

Lee Know simply smirked at you. “You’re an interesting little kitty.” He continued to smirk whilst he’s eyes turned dark. How were you meant to respond to that?

“Well,” He suddenly stood tall as if snapping out of his thoughts, and walked around to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door for you. “Drive safely.” He said as you slid into the seat. You rolled your eyes “Yes Mum.” You mocked like you were an unamused teenager responding to an overprotective parent.

Lee Know’s energy shifted. “What did you just call me?” His tone was one of amusement, but there was something behind his eyes. Something devious. He leaned down in the doorway, one hand resting on the open door, the other on the side of the car, his curtain of “hair” framing his pretty face in the most elegant way.

“I said: Yes, Mummy.” You repeated condescendingly and locked eyes on him. Fuck he made you feel nervous, but you weren’t going to let on. Something inside you was enjoying being a little bratty.

“Hmm.” He said standing back up and closing the car door and walking back inside without another word.

You pulled up at the holiday house, knowing that you would have arrived there before the members. That gave you time to fumble around your car for your emergency “going out bag” - ready with a little black dress, a hairbrush and makeup - and then took the left over food up to the house in two trips. A staff member let you in so you could set up. You took a deep breath as you surveyed the food. Yep everything looked fine.

Your next priority was changing into your dress so you went in search of a bathroom to get changed and touch up your makeup. You didn’t want to take up the common bathroom, so you went looking for an ensuite off of a bedroom. It didn’t take long to find one that seemed suitable. The far bedroom down the hall. You’d be out of the way in this room. No one would stumble upon you there. You closed the bedroom door and went into the the bathroom, peeling off your black slacks and black blouse, realising you weren’t wearing an appropriate bra for the dress you had brought. Fuck it. You had nice tits though, so you decided to go bra-less. Your dress was a black mini dress, super tight (it’ll hold those puppies in), that zipped up the entire front - from the hem to the neckline. It was probably too much for the occasion. It was more a clubbing dress, not a hang out with some idols at a casual house party type of dress. But it was either that or your work clothes. You glanced down at the discarded slacks and blouse and then back up to your reflection. Nope! The dress it is.

Next you added some heavier eyeshadow and a tonne of mascara. Finally, a slick of red lipstick. You weren’t planning to impress anyone, right? You just needed to match the makeup to the dress.

You could hear loud music thumping, and muffled boisterous voices through the walls. The boys must have arrived.

You looked yourself over in the vanity mirror one final time. Okay. You’ve got this. You don’t actually have to speak to him. It’s okay. You reassured yourself. Just chat to someone else. Maybe Han. Or Felix. They seem safe.

You pepped yourself up, took a deep breath and opened the door to go back into the bedroom.

Your heart almost jumped out of your body and out of the window. Actually, you wanted to throw your entire body out of the window.

Lee Know. Sitting on the end of the bed. Directly facing you. Legs fucking spread. Still in Aunty-fucking-Lino mode.

His mouth was parted slightly. He was taken aback by what he saw. But he recovered quickly and you didn’t notice because you were too busy having some sort of panic attack. “W-what are you doing in here?” You asked timidly.

Lee know chuckled. “This is my room for the night. I wasn’t expecting a visitor waiting for me.”

“Oh!” Was all that came out of your mouth and your hand flew to your chest, clasping at the zipper, ensuring you were properly dressed. The way he was looking at you made you feel naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

“I’m really sorry.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’ll be out of your way.” Of all the rooms you chose to change in, it had to be Lee Know’s.

You lowered your head and nervously made a beeline for the door. The sooner you removed yourself from the situation the better.

You reached for the door handle, but a hand landed on the door, next to your head, preventing you from opening it. Preventing you from leaving. Trapping you. A rustle of fabric grazed the back of your bare legs, making you freeze. Lee Know’s warm breath on your neck caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs.

But there was something else happening too. Despite your nerves. Despite this situation being inappropriate and unprofessional. Despite your oftentimes timid nature, you were curious. It was almost like there was a little devil on your shoulder, a little voice that made your insides itch to torment Lee Know.

“What’s the matter? Doesn’t Mummy want to let me out of the house dressed like this?” You boldly teased.

Lee Know pressed his erection into your ass, startling you. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath his dress, his hard cock bouncing freely against you made that perfectly clear. You laughed condescendingly and continued to torment. “Afraid some boys will ruin my honour? Steal my innocence, hmm?”

Lee know growled and spun you around and pushed you against the door.

“There won’t be anything for those boys to ruin once I let you leave this room.” He sneered low and deadly, staring into your eyes.

His gaze dropped to your zipper. You held your breath. He won’t. Surely. He took his thumb and forefinger and grasped the toggle. Oh fuck he is going to. He unzipped your dress all the way, causing it to pop open and your bare tits to spill out, exposing you to the man in front of you.

Your hands automatically came to cover your breasts, a red hot flush overtaking your body.

“Tsk tsk, little one.” He soothed, taking a hand to yours and peeling it slowly away from your chest. “You need to show Mummy what you’re hiding.” He said softly. As you let him remove your hands, his eyes hungrily roamed your almost naked body. You held your breath as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. A pained expression on his face.

“What else have you been keeping secret?’ He leaned his mouth against your neck, making you shudder.

“N-nothing.” Your voice trembled. Lee Know’s energy felt so intoxicating.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” His voice deep in your ear, his fingers resting on your hips.

“I-I’m not.” You repeat he dug his fingers hard into your flesh.

“I’m going to have to check for myself, then.” He whispered. He slid his hand all the way down your body and slipped a finger between your lips, exploring, checking. You closed your eyes. You knew you were absolutely soaked. There was no way to deny it.

“I knew it. You were hiding something from Mummy, after all.” He smirked. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier. Yet you said you weren’t hiding anything from me.” He shoved a finger into your pussy without warning, making you cry out and throw your head back.

“I’m sorry.” You panted. You were alarmed at the wet noises that were already coming from your cunt as Lee Know started to finger fuck you.

“Sorry who?” He snarled.

“Ahh… Sorry, Mummy.” You cried.

“Sorry for what?” He demanded, thrusting into your spongy wall.

“Sorry I was hiding it.” You said, whimpering now.

“Hiding what.” Oh god you were almost there already.

“That I want you to fuck me.” Your hand flung over you mouth. What the fuck did you just say? How did he just get you to say that?

“Why do you want Mummy to fuck you?” There was genuine curiosity behind is eyes. His fingers stilled inside you while he waited for your to respond.

“Because you’re just so pretty…and soft. Delicate, even. Makes me want to taste your lips.” You whimper, almost in tears because he had stopped fingering you when you were so close to climaxing.

“Let me make it clear, I’m far from pretty, or soft, or delicate.” Minho spat and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He didn’t like that you thought he was soft. You needed to be taught just how punishing, brutal, satisfying he could be. He smashed down hard on your mouth. His sticky lip gloss mixing with your bright red lipstick.

His tongue pushed it’s way into your mouth and you took it willingly, letting it explore your own tongue, taking up space inside your mouth. His kiss letting you know how much he wanted to be inside your body, and what it felt like to have him possess you.

You pulled away. “You’re wrong, Mummy. I bet your cock’s pretty… ” You whispered.

“On your knees. Now.” He growled. “Mummy needs to punish you for hiding things.”

You immediately sunk to your knees and Lee Know pulled your dress off completely, leaving you on in just your tiny purple, soaking, satin thong. You were shaking with anticipation and arousal as your fingers gripped the hem of his skirt. You slowly gathered the delicate fabric, lifting it up… up… up. Slowly revealing his strong, toned thighs. You gulped. You were almost there. Almost at the top of his legs. Just another inch, and there it was. The most mouthwatering cock you had ever seen. Your eyes widened.

The sight was positively obscene. He looked so soft and delicate in his wig, makeup and layers of pretty fabric. But underneath his skirt he was rock hard, veins bulging, pre-cum oozing from the tip. His angry erection eager and ready to tear up a pussy or a mouth. Your mouth. Right now.

Lee know took the skirt from your hands, bunching it up and holding it behind his back so that his view of you wasn’t obstructed. His other hand rested above you on the door.

You kept your eyes on him as you slowly dragged your fingernails up his thighs, noticing his eyes close momentarily as he shuddered through an exhale. He was trying to hide the anticipation and pure lust that ran through his veins. You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, pointing it towards you. You leaned in and kissed the tip then smeared the pre-cum over your lips. “Fuck, baby girl. Stop teasing.” He panted when your tongue poked out and licked the tip. Despite your cunt begging you to throw him on the bed and demand he fuck the living shit out of you, you wanted to take your time pleasuring him with your mouth. Lee Know stayed as still as possible, using all his willpower not tear up your throat with his cock as you continued to take it slow.

You licked his shaft from base to tip, you tongue exploring the ridges of his veins that ran along the length. You lifted his cock towards his stomach so you could take his balls in your mouth, suckling them, humming on them. “F-fuckkk!” Lee Know hissed. You could feel his legs shake slightly, faltering just the slightest bit. And then you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick and sunk down as far as you could in one fluid motion. Lee Know whimpered and you purred at how good it felt to have him in your mouth.

You sped up your movements as your head bobbed up and down along his cock, taking more and more of him into the back of your throat. Saliva began to drip down your hand that was working the remaining length you couldn’t quite take. You wanted to take him entirely and tears sprang from your eyes as you gagged around him. “So fucking perfect…mmmm….so slutty…..slutty little girl just wants cock, hmm? So pretty, so dirty with Mummy’s cock rammed down her throat.” Filthy words spilled from his mouth.

Looking down at you endearingly, he reached down and grasped your jaw, forcing it open in the most careful and gentle way. You locked eyes on him as he slowly withdrew his cock, holding your jaw still, sighing as more and more of it emerged from your mouth dripping in saliva. He was almost the whole way out, and your cunt clenched in anticipation to be filled, but Lee Know simply sunk back into your mouth again with a low groan. He pushed himself all the way in, pressing the back of your head towards him as he pushed his hips forward. You couldn’t breath for a good thirty seconds. Then he eased out enough for you to take a breath. You had to be quick though, because he was back down your throat without warning.

Tears ran down your face as your air supply was repeatedly cut off, but never longer than you could handle. The head of his cock making you gag, causing your eyes to water even more.

“So messy for me.” Lee know murmured, smearing your mascara further down your cheek with his thumb. “You look like a little slut, the way you take all of me in like that.” Lee know started fuck your face faster now, your hands gripping onto his perfect dancer’s thighs so you wouldn’t get knocked backwards. Not that you really could be knocked backwards with his hand holding you so firmly against his pelvis on every thrust.

All you could think about was how much you needed this cock inside another hole. Any of them. All of them! You wanted Lee Know to fill you up in every way.

“Fuck! You feel so good. Such a good fucking girl.” He grunted. Good girl. Oh god you needed him to fuck you. You were more than ready. You reached down to your drenched panties, pushing the fabric aside and started to rub your clit frantically. You needed the release. You needed to fucking come!

Lee know pulled your head back by your hair, pulling his cock out of your mouth. “On the bed right fucking now.” He demanded, pulling you up and pushing you down on the bed. “Head down, ass up. Let me get a good look at you.” He gripped one of your ass cheek, the jiggle eliciting a low growl from him. “If you turn your head the other way you’ll be in for a treat.” He whispered peeling your panties down your thighs.

You lifted your mascara stained cheek off the mattress and turned to rest your other cheek on the bed. You were staring directly into a full length mirror, and you were just in time to watch Lee Know approach you from behind.

With one hand holding his skirt out of the way and the other around his length, he lined himself up to your slick entrance, but didn’t penetrate you just yet. He teased you a moment longer by dragging his tip through your dripping lips from the entrance to your clit. Your legs were already trembling from the sheer desperation of needing to be speared by his cock. And you could see it all unfolding in the reflection of the mirror. The moment Lee know’s hips pushed forward. The moment the tip pushed passed your entrance making you gasp at both the visual and the actual sensation of him stretching you open. You saw the furrowed brow and then the look of relief on his face as he sunk further into your cunt. You saw him flick his long hair over his shoulder and then grip your hip as he began to thrust into you fully.

“So tight… your cunt feels so fucking tight.” He mumbled, losing himself immediately.

“Am I wet, Mummy?” You choked. You caught him smirk at your desperation for praise.

“Mmm… absolutely fucking soaking… listen carefully you can hear it… “

You could hear the squelching sounds filling the room but you wanted him to tell you. You wanted to hear him say dirty things.

“Is this what you wanted? Mummy to stuff your pussy full of cock?” He quickened his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting you deep inside. “Answer me.” Me growled and slapped a hand down on your ass. You cried out at the sting. “Yes, M-mummy.” Lee Know slapped you again. “That’s it, you can scream… no one’s gonna hear you. No one will come and help you.” His words made your walls clench, the thought of being trapped in the room where no one could hear your screams, where Lee Know could do anything he desired, made the tension in you core tighten. You were going to come any moment.

“Fuck, your cunt is sucking me in… greedy, tight, little…grr.” He propped a foot up on the bed next to your leg to get a different, a deeper, angle. His deep, hard, brutal thrusts slamming directly against your cervix. Over and over and… “Fuckkk!!! Mummmy!!!! Ahhhh.” You cried out at full volume as you involuntarily clenched and relaxed around Lee Know’s cock. Your entire body convulsed and shook with what was easily one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. Especially when your clitoris was practically untouched. After you came down, Lee Know pulled out abruptly and you collapsed on the bed, still shaking. You rolled onto your back and looked up at Lee Know, expecting him to be depositing his load on your body. But instead, you found him trying to calm his breath and slow his heart. His cock was screaming for release, but it seemed he didn’t want to come just yet. “Lee Know, let me take care of you.” You sat up, reaching for him.

He shook his head. “No, sweet kitten. Just give me a sec.” He panted as though he was in pain, and you were confused. He climbed up on the bed and laid on his back, his head resting on the pillows.

He reached out for you with his hand. “Come ride me…please.” He ushered you over to him, desperation on his face. He had just fucking edged himself.

You kicked off your panties entirely and climbed up to straddle him. He looked a mess. His wig slightly askew, his own mascara running down his cheeks, your red lipstick smeared across his lower lip. He looked perfectly fucked up. You bit on your lower lip as you sank over his cock, drawing a sharp a hiss from his mouth. “So tight.” He mumbled under his breath. “So fucking wet.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips as you rolled your them, grinding against him. You moved slowly, your clit pressing against his hard lower abdomen.

“Open your eyes, Mummy. Look at me. Watch me. Am I doing good?” You purred. Lee Know opened his eyes. They were blown out, hazy with lust and the need to climax. Yet there was also a kindness and a softness to them.

“You’re doing so good, little one. So fucking perfect.” He smiled. “I need you to make Mummy come now. Good girl. Yes like that.” He praised you as you moved a little faster. Lee Know’s cock filled you so well. Stretching you perfectly. Touching the deepest parts of you. “You really do have a pretty cock, you know? Need you to fill me up with your cum now. Need it deep inside my pussy.” You were losing yourself as well as another orgasm was building. You looked down at the man underneath you, reaching down and playing with the little tie on his jacket and then reaching up to cup his cheek. He pulled you down onto him, taking your mouth with his, finding your tongue, climbing inside of you. Possessing you completely.

Something inside him snapped, and with his hands digging into your hips he began to pound into you brutally from underneath you. Loud whimpers jolting out of you from the force behind his hips. He brought a thumb to your clit, circling it as he knocked the breath out of you time and time again. “Come with me.” It wasn’t quite a demand, it was more of a plea.

“Come in me. Fill me up…please.” You plead in return as your orgasm hit. Electricity shot through your body and out your fingers and toes, and you clamped down hard around Lee know’s cock. “Oh fucking Go—” you cried at the top of your lungs.

“Fuckkkk!!!” Lee know growled as hips hips faltered and you felt his hot seed spurt deep inside of you. His orgasm seemed to last an eternity, and you knew there was so much cum, you could feel it coating your insides. It was already starting to leak out around the base of his cock.

After a few moments you pulled off him, flinging yourself on the bed next to him. You were both still panting, trying to catch your breath. Trying to process what had just happened.

“Fuck that was amazing!” Lee Know stated. “I didn’t expect to be so into that.”

You rolled onto your side and looked at him. “What, the Mummy thing or the cross dressing?” you asked.

“Both.” He suddenly looked nervous. You leaned down and kissed him slow and deep. “Me either.” You admitted.

“Hey,” he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. “Let’s go take a shower, and then I’ll show you what Daddy can do to you.” He whispered deviously.

@noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604

[superblysubpar]

<- part one | part three -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: The week of the bet begins with a bang.

the song: Bodybag by chloe moriondo

also for your listening pleasure: Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran / The Girl is Mine by Michael Jackson & Paul McCartney / I Can't Go For That by Daryl Hall & John Oates

4,024 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / underage alcohol consumption & mentions / slut shaming from idiot/asshole teens | my blog is 18+

A house on Cornwallis Street - the past

The beat from the drums in the Duran Duran song playing throbbed, the speakers physically pulsing as you passed them. Your heels stuck to the kitchen tiles as you entered the room that had been your sanctuary for the past hour. Once the beer had been moved to the living room and the chip bowls thoroughly destroyed, the sticky vodka bottles and punch that looked like something died in it weren’t visited as frequently as they had been at the start of the night. 

So it was there, forearms pressed to the edge of the sink as you lifted a foot and rolled your ankle, then the next, with a soft and maybe too sensual sigh of relief, that Steve Harrington finally caught you alone. 

“New shoes?”

You spun, forgetting the teeny tiny sticks beneath your heels didn’t really care for quick movements or aiding in the process of balancing. 

He caught your forearm, fingers curled around your wrist as you settled. Like he was reminded he wasn’t supposed to like you, he dropped it, fingers running through the darkening hair he was keeping longer now instead as you lied. 

“No.”

Steve squinted at you, taking a sip out of red cup, mumbling into the plastic with a snort, “Sure.”

Your arms crossed, now acutely aware of the fact that the entire outfit you’d been in all night was much more revealing than anything you’d worn around him before. Eyes focused on the denim cut off a little too high on your thighs and the sliver of skin between the top of the mini skirt and your borrowed pink top as you accused, “What are you doing here?”

Steve took a step closer, white Adidas kicking a forgotten red solo cup as he did. 

“Funny,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “Was just about to ask you the same thing.”

As you glanced up, you couldn’t help but notice the dark blue of his polo was starting to get tight around his shoulders and biceps.

Couldn’t help but look at his eyes that were unwavering in their gaze on you. Which all only made your skin hot, made you need to look away and pretend you were looking for something on the counter littered in trash. 

“Where else would I be, Harrington?” 

Steve was right behind you as he hummed, “Anywhere else. Literally, anywhere but a house party.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You spun with the biting accusation, the little black heels now your arch nemesis as they wobbled beneath unsteady ankles again. Steve caught your waist that time, bodies closer together as you fell back against the counter. 

He didn’t let go, his finger resting just above the denim, right against your skin. 

“It means,” he swallowed, exhaling a shaky breath as he leaned in and explained, voice taking on a tone that seemed like he was quoting something. Or someone. “That I thought you were better than stale beer and shitty conversation with idiots.”

A flash of an argument with your friend Robin in the hallway ghosted across your memory, making your lips part, but only a small noise escaped them. 

The movement and sound had Steve’s eyes glancing down, his adams apple bobbing. It had him squeeze at your hip involuntarily, had you wondering if it was possible for skin to spontaneously catch on fire. 

“I love beer,” you finally managed to sputter out while wondering if he always had those two freckles on his cheek and if he did, why could you suddenly not look away from them as they lifted with his smirk. 

“Yeah?” He offered his cup out to you, “Have at it, honey.”

Maybe it was the challenge in his eyes. Or that word, honey, that made you do it - made you aware of how close you were to the boy you’d always hated and how he wasn’t the one you came with. 

You took the cup and kept eye contact as the rim met your lips, kept it while the bitter liquid washed over your tongue. You kept it still, as you wondered if it was the color of his eyes or the alcohol that had your stomach warm and fizzing with something abnormal. 

“For the record,” you whispered after your fingers swiped at your lips, “I do hate shitty conversation with idiots. I came in here for a drink for my boyfriend.”

Steve blinked, like he hadn’t heard anything you’d said since you took the cup from him and that wonderful pride swelled in your chest with the thought that you’d successfully gotten the ball back to your side of the court. 

You cocked your head and blinked innocent eyes up at him, “Brenden Peterson? Junior? I think you’re on the basketball team with him…or well…” you winced, “You’re on the bench of the team he plays for…”

Steve’s hand dropped from your waist as boisterous calls came from the other room, shouting about spin the bottle. Tina’s voice carried over the music that dulled to something quieter, Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney singing about loving the same girl. Your name called in her shrill squeal, asking if you were playing. 

“Absolutely!” You yelled, still too close to Steve, “I love spin the bottle!”

You were sure it was the beer on your tongue that made the words slip over it, then out of cherry glossed lips so easily. 

Not the way Steve Harrington was looking at you. That had nothing to do with it. 

Nothing at all. 

Steve finally made a noise, scoffing as you shimmied out from his spot keeping you against the counter, wandering closer to the rowdy boys cheering at your agreeability to the suggested game. 

His jaw pulsed as you sipped out of the solo cup and made eye contact with him over the rim. He hated that something deep in his biology or wherever it came from had him suddenly panicked he’d pop a boner when your tongue darted out to catch amber liquid and foam from a pouted bottom lip. 

He hated that he followed you into that room. 

That he sat across from you in that circle. 

He hated what happened next. 

You were looking around the room, eyebrows furrowed together as a girl named Carol patted the carpet next to her and told you to sit. Brendan wasn’t in the room and as you looked around the circle, you caught Steve looking right at you with a challenge in his eyes not unsimilar to the one you just had in the kitchen. 

So you leaned forward and yelled, “Me first!” 

The circle ooh’ed, Steve looked anywhere but your chest as you crawled to the center and your fingers spun the green bottle. 

You were settled on your knees, blinking down at the slowing bottle and silently screaming for it to keep spinning, keep spinning, keep…

Carol yelled out an “Oh La La!” and boys snickered as the green bottle finally stopped right between Steve Harrington and Tommy H. 

“I-I just spin again, right?” You went to do so, panicking as Tina laughed from somewhere on your right. 

“Nope! Gotta kiss both boys!” 

“But I-“

“Oh, come on!” Carol moaned, snickering, “It’s just a kiss! Or two!”

You hesitated, hating the way Tommy grinned at you and Steve continued to stare at the carpet. 

“Wait,” someone in the circle laughed, “You’ve kissed a guy before, right?”

Another person whispered, “Dude, that’s Brendan’s latest conquest. The one who…in the back of his…”

Your vision got a little blurry, the room suddenly too warm.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” Tommy shrugged, lifting his eyebrows up and smirking. “Unless you want me to.”

Steve’s fingers clenched into fists on his knees, he finally looked up at you and whispered, “You don’t have to-“

His words were cut off as you grabbed Tommy’s collar and pulled him towards you. Lips colliding in a kiss that made the circle cheer, wet lips and tongue and you pulled away with a gasp. Grabbing at Steve who looked shocked but his hand landed on your waist as your noses bumped. 

You took a deep breath, your eyelids started to flutter closed when you heard, “What do we have here?”

Brendan stood to the side of the circle, a tilted head of mussed blond hair. He laughed as he gestured to the circle, “Wow, you really will just do whatever guys ask you to, huh?”

Looking around the circle, everyone snickered into drinks or looked at you then Brendan, waiting for more of the show. 

“I-“

“You what?” Brendan interrupted, eliciting more laughs and your eyes started to burn, cheeks too hot when Brendan nodded at Steve and scoffed,

“Enjoy my sloppy seconds.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and when Tommy started to laugh, “Oh no, she’s cry-“

Steve elbowed him and whispered your name.

You shoved at him and stood, ready to bolt, when you saw the girl standing just behind Brendan with the purple mark blossoming on her neck.

Your jaw clenched as you took a step, then another, Brendan too focused on laughing at you with his buddies to care until he was doused in beer. 

The music stopped, the circle fell silent, and Brendan blinked through foam, swiping at his eyes as he growled, “What the fu-“

“Enjoy continuing to fail freshman level biology, getting kicked off the basketball team, and going absolutely fucking nowhere in your life, Brendan.”

You threw the crumpled red solo cup at his face as you tried to leave the room with some ounce of grace on the stupid heels you couldn’t wait to never see again. 

The slam of the front door behind you rattled the framed photos inside as much as the sob in your lungs did to your breath. Your fingers pressed to your lips as you blinked back the hot tears that wanted to pour out of you. 

“Hey,” a quiet voice from your left called, “You okay?”

A boy was leaning on his elbows in the grass, curly brown hair that was a little too long catching in the breeze, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. He looked familiar, like you’d seen him in the back of the band room or somewhere in the first few months at Hawkins High. 

He looked you over and shook his head with a grimace, “Yeah, no, that’s not an okay face.”

“I’m fi-fine,” you managed to hiccup out. 

“Well, fine,” he groaned like a person much older than the boy he was as he stood, “I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

A laugh left you, despite the tears still trailing down your cheeks. You swiped at them and told him your actual name. 

Eddie nodded and twisted the toe of a black boot into the cigarette now on the ground. “Still nice to meet you, but far less cool and interesting of a name than ‘Fine’ if you ask me.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Eddie,” you waved a little, hugged your arms around yourself and started down the driveway, only stopping to kick off your black heels and leave them in the grass. As you began again, now barefoot, his voice carried on the early autumn breeze. 

“Hey, Fine!” 

He grinned when you turned, and he held up his hands in surrender as he spoke. “Tell me to fuck off, but whatever just happened inside is not worth your time or energy, but you know what is?”

You sighed, and waved your hand towards him, “I suppose you’re gonna tell me yourself?”

He beamed and held a hand to his chest covered in some sort of skull and snake design, “Well, that probably remains to be seen. I do have a whole presentation on the value of having a Munson for a friend, but, nah, I was gonna say cherry pie.”

That laugh left you again, and Eddie only smiled wider at the sound, a dimple poking out on his cheek. 

You looked at him, then the house behind him, then down at the heels in the grass. 

“Can we stop and get me new shoes?”

“Can we…?” Eddie looked at you incredulously, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t think of bringing you to get cherry pie without sneakers on your feet.”

He waved to a van a few cars down the street, bowing, “Your chariot awaits, ma’lady.”

By the time Steve got outside, bruised and bloody knuckles hung limply at his sides as he watched a van round the corner of his street, then disappear. 

A house on Cornwallis Street - the present

His fingers press the top of the alarm clock at precisely five fifty-nine am on Monday morning, the red glow of clock telling him he’s up too early yet again. 

He doesn’t drive Robin to school anymore, he doesn’t have to be at work till nine thirty, but he’s kind of used to his routine now.

And it’s not like he was sleeping anyways. 

His old Hawkins High swim team t-shirt slips over his head as he sighs, hands rubbing and slapping at his cheeks as he thinks about how he hasn’t really slept all weekend. He’s lacing his sneakers up as he thinks about how he definitely didn’t sleep on Friday. 

Not after he let you inside, and you smiled at him like that. After he yelled about how this wasn’t a fair bet and how Eddie upped the stakes to three hundred dollars then, the ‘arch nemesis’ clause as he put it. 

He holds his ankle in the driveway, pulling his leg up and stretching it, then the other, glaring at the red sign on the front lawn in the hazy morning sun beginning to rise. He starts down the sidewalk, but sees the house on the corner and decides that after an entire weekend of revisiting memory lane, he doesn’t need to physically go down the literal lane of his past mistakes and regrets. 

His feet thump on the ground in time with the Duran Duran song playing in his walkman. 

Family Video - the present

Daryl Hall and John Oates voices abruptly stop when you slam the stop button on your walkman due to the sight in front of you. 

Your feet straddle the baby blue bike, docs pressed to the pavement as you glare at the maroon car idling in the parking lot. 

He has his head leaned back against the head rest, eyes closed. His arms are crossed over the green vest while Tears for Fears plays out the open window quietly. 

Pulling your headphones down around your neck, you slam your hand on the hood of his car and Steve jumps in his seat, blinking profusely and swiping at his eyes before he glares at you.

“What are you doing here?” You accuse, fingers gripping your handlebars.

Steve rolls his eyes then his window up. He yanks his keys from the ignition, the sudden loss of the vehicles noises making the cicadas and frogs in the pond across the street louder. 

He gets out and squints at you as he slams the door. 

“Cute helmet.”

You quickly snap it off, cheeks warming as you shove your bike lock into a wheel and glare at him from your new crouched position. 

“Again,” you snap the lock closed, “Why are you here?”

Steve sighs, leaning against the storefront’s window. “We open at ten, do we not?”

“We,” you laughed, sticking your key into the front door with the shake of your head, “Don’t do anything. You work in the afternoon all week. With Robin. I’m alone in the mornings until we-“

“Find a replacement for Tracy. Yeah,” Steve bites the inside of his cheek, pointing his finger like he’s just remembered something, “Keith said something about that. But, well, I volunteered for extra shifts, to help out while we’re short staffed for summer.”

You pull the key from the lock and narrow your eyes. “You what?”

Steve smiles at you, freckles on his cheek lifting as he shows off perfect teeth. “What can I say, I’m just a nice guy.”

You actually yell out a, “Ha!” with your head thrown back as you open the front door, not caring to hold it open for him. 

“You…you…” you stomp towards the back room as you search for the right words, “Slimy, sneaky…”

“Sexy?” Steve provides, following you.

“No.” You spin with the word, not expecting him to be so close behind you.

He stops just as abruptly as you, face mere centimeters from yours, both of you having the cover of the slow to buzz on overhead lights to steal breaths and find your composure once more. 

Steve sighs, walking past you towards the wall where time cards are kept. “Listen, if it’s actually that terrible to work with me, I can call Keith again. But I really would appreciate the extra shifts.”

You hang your helmet on a hook and push your own card into the machine, skepticism evident in your voice as you ask, “You need the extra shifts?”

Steve faces your profile, and you feel his gaze lingering on your cheek as he whispers, “Well, yeah. I’m about to be out three hundred dollars in a week.”

Turning to face him, you finally take in his appearance. The sincere look in his eyes is almost overshadowed by the circles under them, the frown of his pink lips almost forgotten due to the stubble surrounding them that’s not normally there. 

Your silence seems to mean something to him though, because the frown becomes a smirk, and his head tilts as he asks, “Or am I not?”

“Not what?” 

His smirk becomes a full smile, “Not gonna be out three hundred bucks. See something you like, babe?”

And just like that, it’s gone. 

Your eyes roll as your shoulder bumps his on the way to the coffee pot.

“In your dreams, Harrington.”

He watches you press start on the coffee, sitting on top of the break rooms table with crossed arms over a plain blue t-shirt. 

“Bet you’d like that.”

You fiddle with the cream you’ve pulled out of the fridge, the clipboard of tasks Keith left for the week. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, keeping your tone bored, willing the minutes of this day to go by faster. 

Steve’s voice is quieter, and closer to you as he says, “If I dreamt about you.”

Spinning at his words, cream canister in one hand, coffee mug in the other almost colliding with his chest. You blink at him as he continues, “Bet you’d like it even more if I told you what we did in those dreams.”

Your back hits the counter, not realizing Steve took a step closer as he spoke and there was nowhere for you to avoid how good he smelled or how what he was saying was making you sure there was something wrong with your stomach. Nowhere to avoid the eyes that look at you unashamed, and you could swear dare to seem hopeful. 

Until he’s grinning, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

And doesn’t he?

Steve taps the counter behind you twice with two of his fingers and hums. 

“On second thought, maybe you should take my afternoon shifts. Looks like I’m not the one who’s gonna be needing the extra cash after all.”

He leaves, whistling a song you can’t quite place, but it itches at your skin, demanding to be felt like the burn of his words left on your cheeks. 

You shake your head, and fix your coffee. This is not happening. Despite Robin and Eddie vouching for the new and improved Harrington, you will never, ever, believe it. 

You will never let him win. 

Especially after the first morning shift with him. 

When the store opens at ten, there are three cars in the lot already, families stocking up on weekly rentals. Kids are in and out, shouting about candy and horror movie marathons. Steve and you are both behind the counter for most of the shift dealing with returns and large purchases, arms bumping too many times to count. It’s when his hands land on your hips as you threaten to topple over with the stack of tapes you were desperate to get out on the shelves in the lull, that you both notice you’re finally alone again for the first time in four hours. 

Steve’s breath hits your neck, making you even warmer with a murmured, “You’re welcome,” when you gasp out a thanks. He drops his hands quickly and squints up at the ceiling, then out the front doors. 

The sky has turned darker, gray and gloomy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if a typical summer thunderstorm was rolling in. 

Steve leans against the counter, the back of his hand swiping through his hair as the other fiddles with the TV remote. He turns off The Breakfast Club, switching to a cable station. You keep your back to him as he’s surely staring at the news anchor’s chest that most men in Hawkins want to suffocate in, until he mutters, “Knew it.”

“That Lucy Lebrock’s boobs were fake?” You mumble, stacking tapes.

Steve snorts out a laugh and then he gasps, standing up straighter, “Holy shit. Are they really?”

“Honestly, Harrington, look at them.” You spin and gesture to the TV and whisper, “Oh, fuck.”

“I know,” Steve nods, biting the inside of his lip as he glances out the store windows again. 

Lucy points to a map showing a massive storm inching closer to Hawkins, red banner announcing a tornado watch for surrounding areas. 

Steve and you continue to watch, leaning against the counter next to each other in silence as Lucy tells everyone about tornado safety. 

“I cannot believe they’re not real. You’re right. I really am an idiot.” Steve’s whisper finally breaks the silence. 

You snort, covering your mouth with your hand, hiding your laugh but your eyes sparkle when he looks at you. 

And then a loud clap of thunder booms overhead, like the universe itself is warning you of what’s happening, of the danger just around the corner. 

Then the power goes out. 

It all happens quickly after that, and yet, each moment lingers, like it’s making sure you’re committing it all to memory. 

There’s a moment where you grab Steve’s arm and he grabs your hip. 

One where you both jump a part, shouting sorry too loud.

There’s another, that threatens to steal your breath when Steve holds his vest over your head as you squint through rain streaming down your face as you lock the front door, the ‘Sorry we’re closed’ sign swinging behind the glass erratically as you inhale cedar and mint.

Then one, that grabs something inside of your chest and squeezes, when you start towards your bike and Steve slips his fingers between yours and tugs, shouting over the rain, “Don’t be stupid!”

There’s several filled with the splashes of your feet in puddles as he tugs you towards the BMW’s passenger side, unlocking it and racing around the hood himself. 

One that’s silent, save for rain pelting the metal roof, and both of your heavy breaths fogging up the glass. 

Then the sirens start going off, Steve’s fingers shake as he starts the car, swiping water from his eyes with the other. 

“My…my apartment. It’s on the other side of…”

Steve shakes his head, backing out carefully as the wipers work faster than what seems possible, and yet they do nothing to aid in his ability to see out the windshield. 

“Honey, you’re crazy if you think I’m taking you anywhere other than my house that has a full basement and an emergency storm kit Robin made me make with her last summer.”

Honey. 

The word lingers, swooshed away with the sound of the wipers and the Duran Duran song that scratches the itch that lingered all morning spilling out of the car’s speakers. It disappears with the spin of tires on the wet pavement as they take you to Cornwallis Street. 

Tag List - thanks for your endless patience and excitement for this and sorry for the delay in posting today 💛

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf

[thebunnednun]

Boyfriend!ProHero!Tenya Iida, who never imagined his life would turn out this eventful.

Not talking about hero work—he expected that.

What he didn’t expect was you.

You, with your sharp mind—not just in the bookish sense, but in that chaotic, unpredictable way that keeps him constantly on his toes. You, who do things that completely boggle his structured, logical mind.

And to think it all started with a 'distress call.'

Denki had been the one to introduce you. Well, technically it was a group of elderly citizens reporting that a naked young woman was trapped on her roof in the blistering 114-degree summer heat.

With most of Japan’s female pro heroes busy responding to similar heat-related emergencies, their finest gentlemen were next in line. So, naturally, Iida rolled up with Kirishima, Izuku, Shoto, Sero, and Denki, prepared for a daring rescue—what he wasn’t prepared for was recognizing you.

His face lit up before his mind could catch up, and as the others prepared for the operation, he called out, “Lemme handle this.”

Instead of immediately rushing to action, he pulled out his phone. A few rings later, you answered, cheerful as ever.

Turns out… you were just sunning.

Denki, ever the menace, waved up at you like this was completely normal, while Iida—who prided himself on discipline and control—couldn’t help but let his gaze linger a second too long on the way your curves fit in that space cow bikini. (It was science, he would later tell himself, an observational slip.)

That 'scientific curiosity' quickly turned to panic when you stood up, scaring the absolute hell out of the guys—then immediately slipped on your own baby oil and came plummeting down.

For once in his life, Iida’s body moved faster than his mind.

He caught you without thinking, the impact sending oil splattering all over his uniform, dirt and debris from your front yard, and a lot of staring.

Now, sweating bullets, and with you nestled in his arms like some absolute vision of chaos incarnate, he was too stunned to do anything as you cheerfully invited them all inside for popsicles, Hello Kitty band-aids, and a fresh set of clothes for him.

Denki was the first to notice—the way Iida’s eyes kept drifting to you, the way his fingers flexed slightly against the borrowed fabric of his 'Save the Rainforrest!' tshirt when you smiled. Ever the instigator, Kaminari had simply nudged him and said,

“Dude, just tell her you dig her!”

And Iida was going to—until he slipped on an certain oily little footprint and crashed directly into you again.

He wanted to die on the spot, but the guys assured him it wasn’t that bad—well, except for Shoto, who simply tilted his head and offered,

“You should still pursue her, despite your previous failure.”

One blind date later, and now here he was—sitting on your couch in a deep navy button-up and grayish khakis, his arm securely wrapped around your waist like a true gentleman, as you nibbled away at another wineglass of spaghetti and dinosaur nuggets.

(Girl dinner, you called it. A fine dining experience, he had decided.)

Everything was unconventional—the wine glasses filled with red dye fruit punch, the dessert of warm apple pie with melted ice cream, the way your bare legs were thrown over his lap with no regard for proper etiquette. But if he wanted conventional, he would’ve married someone his parents picked out for him.

Instead, he wanted this.

You.

And oh, how he loves all the unconventional things about you.

🩷How you’re brilliant in the way a lightning storm is—sudden, beautiful, erratic. You know the most random things, from obscure animal facts to ancient trivia, and he never knows what you’ll do or say next.

🩷How you collect the weirdest things—stray screws you find on the street ("These fell from something, Tenya. I can't just leave them!"), scented erasers shaped like tiny foods, and precisely one rock from every place you've traveled to, even if it's just the local grocery store.

🩷How you have a perfectly functional car but refuse to use it unless absolutely necessary to "save the planet." So now, Tenya owns a bicycle too, because if you're going to be stubborn about it, he's going to make sure you're safe when you're riding around town.

At first, it was a frustrating adjustment, but now?

Now, it's a relief—a break from hero work, a workout that doesn't feel like training, just him and you, side by side in the fresh air. And the best part?

The way you always glance back at him with that soft, secret little smile, the one that makes his heart stumble, that blurs the edges of his vision until you, are his entire world.

🩷How you keep the ugliest little frog statue by your porch stairs because you insist it has some kind of protective energy (he’s skeptical, but he respects it).

🩷How you get so distracted mid-sentence, trailing off to admire a cloud, or a flower, or the way the streetlights hit a puddle just right. He used to think it was scatterbrained. Now he understands—it’s just you seeing beauty where others don’t bother to look.

And then there are the conventional things he loves about you too.

🩷The way you hold your cup with both hands in the morning, cradling the warmth like a precious treasure.

🩷The way you smooth down the front of his dress shirts when he wears them, like it’s some unconscious habit, some quiet affection.

🩷The way you tuck yourself into his side when you’re tired, sighing like he’s the softest place in the world to land. (He would know by now.)

🩷The way you tell him you love him—not just in words, but in the way you see him. Not just as the boyfriend or the hero,

But as Tenya.

He smiles without thinking as you turn to him, and when he catches himself, he doesn’t want to stop.

Because he loves you. Loves everything about you.

And as his hand briefly leaves your thighs to press against the small box in his pocket,

Tenya just hopes you feel the same way, too.

Pssst, there's a Valentines day event, and YOU🫵, get to pick!

[xomakara]

Roomies With Benefits

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You have no choice but to be roommates with San when there is a glitch in the leasing office’s system. The more time that you live together, the more that you both can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | San x Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, College AU, Roommate trope, fake dating trope, smut with some plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI LENGTH | 7,380 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | I would not mind living with San (or any of the other members) if there was a glitch in the system. LOL. Hope you all enjoy, reblog, like, comment~ Love you all ❤️

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"There has to be misunderstanding," You looked at the management team of your apartment complex. "There's no way that you could lease the unit to two people who signed two different leases at different times. Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"My system shows that both you and Mr Choi are on the lease..." The manager searched for something on his tablet. "I will double check with my secretary to confirm if everything is correct. We should have an answer by tomorrow afternoon. Until then, can you and Mr Choi share the unit?"

You shook your head. There was no way that you'd share the apartment with Choi San, the most popular guy on campus and your arch rival since freshman year. Okay, sure he was stupidly, insanely hot with a sexy brain to boot but he wasn't someone you would ever let into your personal space, much less share the same living space.

There was also the small fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors at school and always getting girls all over him. He had dated many of them before they got tired of playing second fiddle to his social life or wanted to get closer to his family money. You had seen him flirting with women during lunch, talking to his other stupidly, insanely hot friends about how he couldn't wait to bang yet another girl later that night. Every time he turned around, some new girl was ogling at him and that infuriated you.

Not that you hadn't had your fair share of guys sliding into your DMs just because they were interested in you, trying to impress you with expensive gifts or showing up on campus with roses, candy and other 'cute' things just to see you smile and notice them. Sure you were the Queen Bee on campus, even with barely any effort on your part, but that didn't mean you needed everyone else telling you how pretty and desirable you were, did it?

No. You were perfectly fine being single, thank you very much.

But it seemed like this misunderstanding would force you to spend more time together. How terrible.

"Let's just share the apartment for one night." San spoke up, the manager giving him a small nod. "Tomorrow, we expect answers."

You walked out of the management office, a scowl on your face as you waited for the elevator. San was by your side, tapping his foot impatiently while keeping an eye on your reactions. You were tired and just didn't feel like arguing with him right now.

"Let's just get to the apartment and figure something out." San muttered next to you. "It's probably not a big deal."

You sighed. "If only it were that simple." You tried to find the quickest route to the apartment unit so you could get away from him.

The last thing you needed right now was to come across San and a lot of sexual tension going through the roof, only making you more irritable than you already were. You hated how badly you wanted him, hated yourself for reacting the way you did whenever he was near you. It was disgusting, embarrassing and it made you want to punch the wall.

Shit. This was bad. Really bad.

San noticed the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said as you approached the front door and opened it. You looked at the boxes that littered the living room area, both yours and his mingled together in a weird mixture of feminine and masculine decor.

He sighed and followed you inside. "Are you sure you're okay? Everything seems fine to me. What's the problem?"

"We need to share this apartment tonight." You stated matter-of-factly. "That means I'll be sleeping here with you. By tomorrow, the whole campus is going to talk about how the Queen Bee and Alpha Male hooked up. No way can that happen. My reputation is on the line."

"And what do you care about your reputation?" He asked, walking towards you. You backed up against the door, causing him to stop.

"You know I care about my image." You snapped back. "Besides, I've worked too hard to maintain my social status for me to lose it because of a mistake."

His eyes narrowed as he took in your features. His nostrils flared slightly, his gaze darkening with every passing second. You knew what he was doing and you wished you could say something, stop him from approaching you and taking you against the door like a predator chasing down its prey.

Your heartbeat accelerated and your body started to react in ways you never expected, long buried desires resurfacing once again, feelings stirring deep within your heart.

If he touched you right now, you wouldn't fight him. You'd let him take you and fuck you into oblivion until neither of you could walk. All you cared about was his lips on your neck, his hands running along your hips and thighs, your fingers entwined with his. You'd be content to go slow and explore your bodies for hours, waiting for the moment when he finally plunged into you, thrusting hard and fast until you couldn't take anymore.

Instead, you were stuck with San, who was staring at you with his hot brown eyes, and even though he didn't touch you, the longing in his stare burned hotter than the fire raging behind his irises. You were powerless to do anything but stand there, watching him silently and hoping that he would finally make his move.

But he didn't. He turned away and gestured to the door of the bedroom. "Take the room. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow we can find out why there was a mix-up and we won't have to worry about this shit anymore."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You asked hesitantly. He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he stared at you intently.

"Yeah, take it." San nodded. "Despite all the things you hear about me on campus, I don't go around sleeping with women without their consent. Even you, Queen Bee. I respect that. Just take the room."

"Thank you." You breathed softly, thankful for his generosity and maturity. With a slight sigh, you walked towards the bedroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and crawled onto the bed, pulling the blanket over your body and laying there for a few seconds before turning off the lights.

You lay on the bed for a few minutes, wondering what had gotten into San. Why did he suddenly act so mature? And was it really possible that you weren't imagining things earlier? Did he actually desire you as well?

It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders. Yes, maybe it was a mix-up and the leasing office really did mess up your contracts. Maybe, just maybe, everything would work out just fine.

With those thoughts filling your mind, you fell asleep quickly.

You woke up slowly, disoriented from the light pouring into the room. Your heart raced as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked several times, your eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Getting up and unlocking the door to the bedroom to make your way to the kitchen, you looked at San's figure as he snoozed away on the couch. The covers were pulled up to his chin and his shirt was partially undone, exposing a sliver of chestnut skin.

For a moment, you just stood there and watched him sleep, the excitement from yesterday still lingering on your skin.

You started up the coffee machine, brewed a fresh pot and made your way to one of the boxes in the living one that had your clothes packed in. Careful to not wake San up, you closed the bathroom door behind you and locked it so that you could shower in peace.

After taking a quick shower, you dried yourself off and put on your clothes. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar to sweeten it a little. As you sipped on the delicious black liquid, you leaned against the counter and browsed on your phone. A minute passed before you heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, followed by a yawn.

"Good morning." San said with a soft smile as you poured him a cup of coffee and slid it towards him.

"Morning." You replied. "After you get ready for the day, let's go down to the leasing office and see what they say."

"Sure." He said as he gulped down half his coffee, eyes trained on your form as you took another sip. You knew exactly what was going through his head and you didn't think he was going to be able to hide it from you anytime soon. The expression on his face was clear evidence that he liked what he saw.

About half an hour later, you and San both made your way to the leasing office. Walking past the crowds of students that congregated outside the main building, you arrived at the office and entered the queue. After a short wait, you finally reached the front desk and signed your name on the sign-in sheet.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The manager apologized again as he looked at you and San. "Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the system and I'm afraid that our records show that we mistakenly assigned you the same unit."

"There's no other units that are available? Not even in a different location?" San inquired, a frown etched across his brow.

"There's nothing left." The manager shook his head. "All the other units have already been filled by other students that are no longer living in the dorms, sorority or frat houses."

"When is the next available unit?" You asked, putting on your best poker face. "How long will it take for us to get one?"

The manager paused for a moment, seemingly torn between wanting to tell you that there wasn't another unit available and being worried about offending you by saying so. "I'm so very sorry but there won't be any available units until the next school year. You may have to find someplace else to live if you cannot accept that."

"That won't be necessary." San interrupted. "I'm sure Miss Y/N and I will figure something out."

"That's good." The manager gave you a sympathetic smile before looking back at San. "Well, if you need anything at all, please let me know. If you need help finding a new place, I'm happy to assist."

San nodded and gave the man a polite smile before turning towards you. "We should go. Let's head back to the apartment."

You followed him back to the elevator, ignoring all the curious glances that the both of you attracted. Some people didn't know why you two were sharing an apartment, others were just trying to catch a glimpse of San and you, others were already forming their opinions and thoughts of the two hottest people on campus and if they were really dating. Either way, everyone wanted to know the answers to these questions.

By the time you got to the apartment unit, the sun had almost set and nightfall was upon you. Both of you dumped your bags inside the apartment and decided to sit down on the couch.

"So..." San said, breaking the silence. "I guess we're going to spend our last year of university in the same unit..."

You nodded. "Yep."

"Let's try to work something out. Why don't you continue to stay in the bedroom and I'll stay on the couch for the time being?"

"I can't let you sleep on the couch forever, San." You protested.

"Then just let me stay in the bedroom until we find another solution." He suggested. "Unless you don't want to share the bed with me either?"

"I-I'm fine with sharing." You stammered out, avoiding eye contact with him. There was a nervous twitch dancing on the end of your lips as you felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" San asked, bringing your attention back to him. His eyes flickered from side to side, peeking at your lips before landing on your eyes.

"Oh...nothing." You mumbled, averting your gaze. "I can already hear the rumours..."

"Then why don't we just date?" San suggested. "At least to the public. No one will bat an eye if we said that we moved in together because after being a couple for a few months. But in private, we'll just be two roommates. Nothing more."

"Maybe...maybe we should do that." You murmured softly. Your cheeks grew redder and your voice was barely audible. You could feel your heart pounding loudly in your chest as your pulse raced in anticipation of what San would say next.

"I promise I won't touch you unless you ask me to." San said softly. "And I won't demand anything sexual from you."

You swallowed heavily, biting your lip as you met San's intense gaze. "You...you're sure?"

"Of course I am." He said firmly. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that you aren't comfortable with. So I'll leave it up to you."

Tilting your head to the side, you tried to decide how to respond. If this was truly the only option you had, then perhaps dating San would work out. “Okay, fine.” You sighed, giving in. “We’ll try it. But if I ever start feeling uncomfortable or I don’t want to date you anymore, you better not hold it against me.”

"Deal, now why don't we start unpacking?" San suggested, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. "This is going to be our home for the next year. Let's make it a nice home, okay?"

He was right. This would be your home for the next year and you should make the most of it. Putting aside your worries for the moment, you grabbed your bag and followed San into the bedroom. Once you had unpacked your stuff, you sat down on the edge of the bed while San sorted out the rest of his belongings. You both then moved to the living room and settled on opposite sides of the couch.

"I can already see the look on your friends' faces when we tell them that we're 'dating'. They probably think that we're crazy and that we're playing games. They'll see right through us." You remarked.

"Then should we practice on making it look real?" San asked. "Or is that asking too much?"

“I don’t think I have it in me.” You shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better…”

With a smile plastered across his face, San leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. It wasn’t overly romantic and it was brief, but it showed enough of his intentions to get you to agree to his plan. You hadn’t expected that kissing him would make you feel tingly inside, but your stomach fluttered as he pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue and you couldn’t help but pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Before you knew it, you found yourself pinned to the sofa by San, unable to move or resist his grip.

"Y/N..." San whispered hoarsely. "Do you want to stop this or...?"

"I...don't know..." You confessed, not wanting to lie. "We can keep kissing...but nothing else tonight."

He looked into your eyes, a brief smile gracing his beautiful lips. "Okay, I could deal with only kissing." He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the idea. "Though...if you change your mind, just give me a sign and I'll stop immediately."

Relieved, you smiled softly at San before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

"Okay, then I'm going to kiss you some more." San purred, leaning in once again. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

His lips descended slowly over yours, igniting your body with passion. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste and he smelled amazing. His hands explored your waistline, slipping under the material of your shirt. All you wanted was to feel San’s skin against yours. To feel every inch of his muscular frame pressed against you. To inhale the scent of his cologne and bask in the warmth radiating off his body. With those thoughts in mind, you leaned forward and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter against you.

Your kisses became deeper, your breathing erratic as you moaned louder than you intended. Your hips arched upwards, pressing against San's crotch. A small groan escaped his throat as you began kissing him harder, your breath hot and ragged against his ear.

You weren't aware that your fingernails dug into his scalp as you felt him push against you, trying to make you moan louder. "Y/N..." San moaned as you bit down on his earlobe, sending chills down your spine. "We should stop...while we can."

You lifted your head, panting heavily as you gazed at San. "Yeah, yeah we should stop." You agreed, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Damn, living with San was going to be interesting.

That night you laid in bed under the covers as you turned your head to watch San snoozed next to you on top of the covers. You stared at his sleeping form for several minutes before realizing that you were staring at him. You smiled softly as you layed back down, curling up beside him. After a few moments, San opened his eyes and gazed at you.

"Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

"Mmhmm, yes I am." You responded softly. "Hard to sleep with someone lying next to you isn't it?"

San rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "It certainly can be." He murmured. "But I've been doing it for so long that I just kind of accepted it."

"I guess I haven't gotten used to having someone next to me yet." You commented with a small chuckle.

"The Queen Bee is not used to having someone next to her?" San teased. "How strange."

Shaking your head, you smiled. "No, not at all. I know I get plenty of male attention being the Queen Bee on campus but I just turn everyone down. I guess it's because I prefer spending my time alone. Besides, the guys who are attracted to me are creeps anyway."

"I'm attracted to you." San chuckled. "Does that make me a creep?"

"There's no way you're attracted to me, Choi San." You replied, shaking your head again. "I'm not exactly your type."

"Who says you're not my type?" He countered. "All the other girls that try to get into my pants? You don't think I notice you?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes at San's persistence. He was determined to prove his point, despite the fact that you still disagreed with him. "Look, I'm flattered that you think I'm attractive but-"

"No, Y/N." San interrupted. "Just hear me out. You're beautiful, smart and funny. Plus, you don't put up with any crap from anyone. Do you know how rare that is?"

For the first time since San spoke, you stopped to think about his words. "Am I really that special?" You asked.

"You're pretty damn special, actually." San admitted. "I don't know why you don't think you're attractive if half the student body and myself fall at your feet."

Laughing lightly, you shook your head. "I think I'd rather spend my time alone than get wrapped up in relationships." You decided. "Besides, I'm not interested in hook ups."

"You didn't say that when we kissed earlier." San pointed out.

"I-it was different!" You protested. "A kiss doesn't mean I want to have sex with you!"

San smirked. "Why did you kiss me then? Just to test the waters?"

Blushing bright red, you ducked your head low as San reached out and gently stroked your cheek. "Not necessarily..." You muttered, glancing away.

"Don't be embarrassed by what happened earlier." San said, placing a finger underneath your chin and lifting your head. "I liked kissing you and I know you like kissing me too. If you don't want to do anything else tonight, then that's fine with me. But you need to at least admit that there's something between us."

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you fought back the desire to lean forward and kiss him. "So what do you suggest we do instead?" You asked.

"Well..." San trailed off. "There is one thing I've always wanted to do with you."

"Oh?" You asked.

"Mmhm." San nodded. "I was hoping that maybe you'd let me kiss you again."

A grin tugged at the corner of your mouth as you watched San's face light up. "I'm not opposed to another kiss." You admitted. "But..."

"But?" San prompted.

"I was thinking..." You trailed off, trying to find the right words. "Maybe we could just go slow and enjoy each other's company."

San regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I can do that." He said. "Tonight's the first night we live together so it'll be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other. We can take things easy and see where they lead us."

You placed a hand on San's cheek, tracing his soft features with your thumb. "I like the sound of that." You told him. "Now you can kiss me."

For the remainder of the night, you were lost in his kisses.

It had been several weeks since you and San started living together as roommates. In the comfort of your own home, the both of you led your private lives away from the prying eyes of others. Nowadays, the both of you would talk for hours on end about your day or complain about the latest episode of your favourite drama. You never thought that being able to converse with someone was such a relief, especially after a stressful week at work or class.

When the both of you were out in public together, you both played your parts as a couple convincingly. You'd hold hands with San, kiss him, blush when his hand slid lower than where it needed to be and even grab onto his arm whenever the conversation turned serious. Even San's friends were convinced that the both of you were dating and no one batted an eye when you came out of the bathroom in the middle of the party to hug San, accidentally brushing your breast against his arm or when he would wrap an arm around your waist to pull you close to him and kiss your forehead.

Friends would ask about your sex life but you clearly didn't have one. At least not yet. You were content spending the night in bed telling each other stories or just cuddling while watching television. Exchanging kisses every now and then but making sure to limit yourselves to making out and no further. It wasn't that you didn't want to have sex with San, it was just that you weren't ready for a relationship at this point in your life. Not to mention that you didn't want to rush into anything. If you took your time getting to know San better, it would make everything less awkward when the time finally came.

And then San's friend Wooyoung wanted to throw a small get-together at the apartment.

"Why does everyone want to throw a party here?" You complained as you walked into the kitchen. "Can't anyone take care of their own parties?"

"Scared that everyone will find out?" San teased you.

"How will they find out when our apartment has both of our stuff scattered everywhere?" You mumbled. "Our apartment literally looks like a couple. If anyone steps into the bedroom, I will murder someone."

San chuckled as he stood beside you, handing you a cup of tea. "I know you'd rather be curled up on the couch with a book but let's try to keep appearances up tonight. Okay?"

You sighed, taking the offered cup. "Fine."

Wooyoung had invited all of his friends and a few girls from the campus. Although you didn't want to mingle with the others, you did it for San's sake. But as the night progressed, you became increasingly bored. Most of the guys in attendance were there to ogle over the attractive women but San stuck close to you the entire time. The girls, on the other hand, kept flirting and vying for San's attention but he refused them all politely.

He only had eyes for you.

Sighing, you excused yourself from the room to use the restroom. After finishing your business, you left the restroon and tried looking for a seat but noticed that they were all taken. Everyone was drinking, eating, and conversing with each other. When San saw you standing there, he gestured you over to him, only to pull you into his lap.

"San!" You whispered, his hands resting on your hips.

"Shh...it's time to play house." San murmured huskily into your ear. "Need to keep up the charade."

You blushed deeply, glancing around at the amused stares of his friends. For the sake of San, you accepted his invitation to stay seated on his lap. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but soon you could feel San running a hand up and down your back, his soft fingers caressing your bare thigh. The tips of his fingers slowly inched higher until they brushed against the bottom of your skirt.

"San..." You whispered again, surprised by his sudden boldness.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" He breathed into your ear. "Please? I really want to kiss you right now."

Your breath hitched in your throat, knowing full well what he meant. Not that you were opposed to kissing San, you enjoyed the feel of his lips pressed against yours whenever you got the chance. But he'd never made a move on you like this before in public. Sure, you'd gotten hugs and a quick peck on the cheek from him for appearances sake but none of those kisses made your heart race like this.

"What do you think?" San whispered, pulling back from your ear long enough to meet your gaze.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned quietly.

"Baby, we need to give them a show so they can get up and leave the apartment." He reasoned. "Besides, I've been thinking about kissing you this whole day. And you looked so sexy today, dressed in that short skirt and that tight, sexy top. So yes, in front of everyone is exactly where I want to be kissing you."

With a soft sigh, you reluctantly nodded. "Alright, let's give them something to watch."

Slowly, San pulled you closer, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck, gently holding your head still. Then, with his mouth just inches away from yours, San whispered, "Kiss me, Y/N."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, offering your lips to San without hesitation. In return, San captured your lips in a gentle kiss that melted your insides and made you gasp. Your mouths remained connected, devouring each other with lustful desire. There was no hesitation, no inhibitions; it was purely a display of raw lust and intense passion.

The way he held you, tenderly caressing your back, sending goosebumps all over your body and the pressure of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine. All you wanted to do was to run your fingers through his messy, black hair and slip your arms around his neck, begging him to touch you wherever he pleased.

As if reading your mind, San broke the kiss, grinning as he rested his forehead against yours. "Well, are you satisfied?"

Hearing San speak like that caused your cheeks to burn red. "You could say that." You replied, a little breathless.

"Good." San grinned, lightly running his fingers down your side.

You heard a cough and you both looked up to see Wooyoung staring at the two of you with a smug grin on his face. "Sooooo, is this the cue for us to end the party and go home so that ya'll can fuck each other senseless? Because that's what I'm hearing."

San chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, pulling you along with him. "Yep, I guess that is what we're doing. Time to shut the party down. Y/N is feeling tired."

"Tired, my ass." Wooyoung sneered, eyeing the two of you with amusement. "You guys are just horny. Look how the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other."

"Once you get a taste of pussy, you can't get enough of it." San commented and you couldn't help but bury your head in his shoulder out of sheer embarrassment. You looked up at San and he grinned down at you.

"Alright, folks. Party is over." You announced. "Go home so that I can have my boyfriend all to myself. Bye!"

You smiled brightly as you waved goodbye to everyone. Soon, the apartment was empty except for the two of you and it felt nice to finally be alone with San again. As soon as you sat on the couch, San's hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer to him.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, baby." San whispered in your ear, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "All of these people aren't here to judge you. We can enjoy ourselves in our own little world."

He stroked your leg softly, trailing his fingers down the edge of your skirt.

"It feels good to not have to act like we have a charade going on." You murmured, smiling up at San.

"Why don't we make this charade real then?" San gave you a mischievous smile, unbuttoning your tight shirt and letting it fall to the floor. "Why don't we live in reality instead of this fantasy that we're putting on for everyone else?"

"San...what are you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, San reached up and cupped your face with his hands, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Once he released your lips, you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Baby, I don't want to just kiss anymore. It's so hard for me to control myself around you. I want to throw you over the couch, tear your clothes off and fuck you until neither of us can move anymore."

"I know you want it too, Y/N. It shows in the way you look at me sometimes." San admitted, leaning down to give you another gentle kiss. "When you kiss me sometimes. When you wear these sexy clothes and don't think I'm not paying attention to you. I pay attention, I pay so much attention that I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you're screaming my name. I want you, baby. More than I ever thought possible. I want to lose myself in you. Take you any which way I please. Make you scream my name so loud that everyone within earshot knows who you belong to."

Fuck, you wanted this man. So bad that you ached in places that you never knew existed. Your body hummed with pleasure as you moaned against San's lips. "And why hold it in?" You whimpered, raising your hand to trace the outline of San's jawline.

"Because you're a queen that deserves to be treated like one." San growled, slowly slipping his tongue into your open mouth. "And if my queen wanted to wait and take things slow, then I would respect her wishes. I would wait until she wants me inside of her, filling her with the sweet warmth of my love."

You gasped as his warm tongue slid over yours. His kiss was different from the ones you shared in the past. Now, it wasn't as if you two were strangers; there was an unspoken connection between you two that grew deeper with every passing second. "And now?"

"I want you, Y/N. I want you more than anything in this world." San rasped. "Tonight, I want you in ways that I haven't even imagined before. You've made me realize that there are a lot of things I've never experienced in life, and now that I have you, I plan on experiencing everything."

Your heart swelled in your chest as you gazed at San with longing. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against San's once again, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace forever.

This. Was. It.

"I want you too." You mumbled against his lips. "Every part of you, San."

A single hand ran through your hair, tugging gently while the other caressed your cheekbone. Your hands grasped the sides of his shirt, gently pulling it upward until it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Oh God, baby." San moaned as you kissed your way down his neck, leaving a trail of fire-like kisses along his collar bone. When you finally stopped teasing him, you placed your palms against his muscular stomach and ran them downward until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Slowly, you unzipped his pants, revealing his hard length for the very first time.

"San...you're so beautiful." You breathed, caressing his shaft with trembling fingers. "I've always loved the way you smell, but seeing you with your pants undone, sporting a cock so big and thick in front of me has made me a complete mess."

He groaned as you took his dick into your hand, admiring the thickness and length of it. It was perfectly shaped and there was a huge vein pulsating down its center, stretching out towards the tip of his erection. His dick was so perfect, so breathtaking, that you had a difficult time keeping yourself from taking him into your mouth and sucking on it.

Instead, you cupped his balls in one hand and began massaging them with the other, causing him to groan even louder.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" He asked in between pants.

"Is it working?" You teased.

"Yes..." He muttered through clenched teeth. "More, baby. Please, give me more."

His words fueled your already raging desire for him. You squeezed his balls harder, eliciting a low moan from him. You dropped to your knees and started to pull his underwear down until they pooled at his ankles. San threw his head back, moaning louder as your mouth descended upon his cock, tasting the salty essence of pre-cum as you engulfed the entirety of him in your mouth.

"You're such a good girl." San moaned, running his hands through your hair as you pleasured him. "So eager to please. So eager to swallow my cum, just like you swallowed all of me. That's it, Y/N. Suck it like you mean it. Suck it like you fucking love it."

Breathing heavily, you licked the head of his dick, humming as you continued to suck on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, addicting, almost like drinking your favorite cocktail. Each time you slid your mouth further down, taking him deeper into your throat, you felt yourself getting lost in his intoxicating scent.

Soon, you found yourself drooling over the sight of his dick sliding between your lips. And as you looked up at him with hooded eyes, you noticed the way he looked at you. Like you were his entire universe. Like you were meant to be his.

"Please..." San whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Take it all."

You hummed against him, continuing to stroke him in a circular motion with your hand as you kept up with your ministrations with your mouth. You could feel him getting close to climax, so you slowed down, taking his dick out of your mouth. "Cum for me, San. Coat my throat with your cum."

You wanted him to cum so badly. You wanted him to fill your mouth with his semen so that you could drink it down greedily. "Let it flow, San. Let it all flow down my throat."

A few seconds later, you heard San release a strangled gasp. A second after that, he flooded your mouth with his cum, shooting stream after stream down your throat.

It didn't matter if you weren't prepared for it. All that mattered was that San came, and that he did it because of you.

As he pumped out the last of his semen into your mouth, you felt the vibrations in his dick as he became still. A moment later, you took the head of his dick into your mouth, sucking the remaining cum off of him. Then, you raised your head and looked up at San, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Did I do good?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you watched him carefully.

"You blew me away, baby." San chuckled, reaching out to touch your cheek. "And now I really want to fuck you."

"Mmm, okay." You nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."

With a wicked grin, San wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up off the ground, carrying you over to the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he climbed atop you, kissing your forehead, his hands pulling off the last of your clothes. After that, his lips followed their path southward, lingering against your skin as his mouth moved down to tease your breasts.

Once his lips latched onto your nipples, he began sucking gently on them, occasionally releasing them to circle around them with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers began circling around your core, his thumb dipping between your folds and pushing into you with soft, tender strokes.

"Ahh..." You cried out as your entire body began to tingle. "S-San!"

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." San murmured against your breast. "Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

Gathering all of your courage, you pulled his face upwards and locked eyes with him. "Do whatever you want with me, San. Do whatever you need to do to get you off. Fuck me however you want. But please...fuck me hard."

At the sound of your begging, San laughed softly and said, "Well, when you put it that way...you make it very difficult to refuse."

Grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer, he ripped it open with his teeth, using his other hand to roll it down his throbbing member. Soon enough, he positioned himself between your legs and settled himself on top of you, sinking into your wet heat with one thrust.

It was the best feeling you'd ever experienced. Being completely filled by this man. This man who you desperately wanted to claim as your own.

San grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head as he started to pump his hips, slowly. "God, you feel amazing." He grunted. "You're so tight around me. So hot. So fucking hot. I can't believe that I'm finally here, buried deep inside of you. Your pussy is tighter than I could have ever dreamed of. How is that even possible?"

"Fuck, San..." You panted, rocking your hips underneath him. "Keep going."

"Okay." San replied, smiling as he pushed into you harder. "You want it harder? Okay, I'll give it to you."

One of San's hands went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he slammed into you. His other hand gripped your hair, bringing your face closer to his as he bit down on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby." He whispered. "Your tits look amazing bouncing in the air."

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" He whispered, pushing into you even harder. "Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Ahhh..." You cried out. "I like this, San. Just keep doing this. Keep doing exactly what you're doing."

His lips left your shoulder and traveled to your ear where he nibbled lightly on your lobe. "I love the way you say my name." He murmured, brushing his nose across your cheek. "It's so sexy. So, so fucking sexy."

He then trailed kisses down your neck, pausing to kiss and suck your collar bone as he continued to plunge into you. Before long, he was running his lips back up to your ear, whispering against it. "Y/N, are you ready for me to take you to heaven and back? Because I am. I am right now. As soon as you let go, I'll take you to paradise and fuck you until we both pass out from exhaustion."

"Oh god, San..." You whimpered, tightening your thighs around him. "Take me there. Take me to paradise. Don't stop fucking me. Never stop fucking me. Don't you dare stop fucking me."

"Never." He agreed, running his hand over your ass as he increased his pace, slamming into you over and over again. "I don't ever plan on stopping."

"Yes, yes, yes!" You screamed, burying your head into the pillow beneath you as San increased his speed yet again. You dug your nails into the mattress as you panted loudly, attempting to regain your breath. "San, oh god, San!"

"Cum for me, baby." He panted against your ear. "Can you cum for me?"

"Yes!" You cried out, arching your back and grabbing hold of the sheets, wrapping your fingers around them. "I'm coming! Oh god, I'm coming!"

A few seconds later, San's entire body stiffened and his dick began pulsating inside of you. For a brief moment, his cock twitched as he held onto you for dear life before the orgasm hit him and washed over him. He fell forward onto your chest, gasping for breath as you clung to him. When he caught his breath, he pulled out of you, sitting upright on the bed next to you and pulled the condom off of his dick. With a small smile, he tossed it onto the floor, then collapsed beside you, spooning you from behind.

After several minutes, you finally recovered from your near death experience and opened your eyes. You smiled softly as you saw San lying naked next to you.

"Hey." He murmured, brushing his fingertips along your arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, snuggling into him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" San asked, stroking your arm with his thumb.

"No, you didn't hurt me." You giggled. "Actually, it felt pretty damn amazing."

"I'm glad." San sighed. "And to think that we've been living together all this time and haven't done this. We definitely need to remedy that situation."

You couldn't help but laugh as you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Anytime, anywhere." San grinned. "I don't care. As long as it involves you and me and lots of sex."

"Oh, we can definitely work with that." You giggled. "Speaking of which...I'm kind of curious about something."

"What's that?" San asked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Now that this whole thing has happened...are we still playing pretend or...?"

"We're not pretending anymore, Y/N." San interrupted you. "From now on, you're mine and I'm yours."

You swallowed nervously. "Yours?"

"I'm saying that we're together, baby." San explained, pulling you in close. "For real this time. No more games. No more pretending."

You smiled softly, resting your head against San's chest. "That makes me really happy, San."

"Now that that's settled," he murmured against your neck, "how about we get this night started again? Because I know I can't wait any longer to fuck you again."

"San!" You let out a laugh as you squirmed in his arms. "Don't you dare."

"...Too late." San smirked as he slid into you. "I told you that I wouldn't stop until I fucked you again. And I meant every word."

And he certainly wasn't kidding.

[revelboo]

I can't, man. I just can't keep falling in love with all the bots you write! It's not fair! I see you write for a bot that I never considered for before, and then BOOM, they've been added to the simp list. You can keep getting away with this!!!!!!!!!

I regret nothing 😆

Heads Up, Hearts Down Pt 2

TFA Ratchet x Reader

• Heart racing when you notice the other, big robots inside the abandoned building, you push back against the servos steadily shoving you forward. And the group of three other humans sitting at a battered table eating, one of them only nine or so years old, look up in surprise. The little girl pointing a fork imperiously at the bot shepherding you inside. “You can’t just take in people like stray cats, doc,” the kids says before taking another huge bite of her food. Feeling oddly numb as you let your bot nudge you over to the table with the others and he produces a big rag out of thin air to drape over you. Hear him growl ‘not a word’ at a tall blue and red bot who holds up his hands in surrender and you wonder if you’ve just had a mental breakdown from stress. Because these bots aren’t right. Too advanced. Too uncannily nearly human and alive.

• Watching as you reluctantly sit and one of the other humans fixing you a plate and passing it over, Ratchet vents tiredly. Aware of Sari touching her own lip no doubt asking about your injury as your shoulders hunch. And you’re better off with them. Your own kind better suited to soothing your fear. Can hear the four humans talking amongst themselves as he looks up at Optimus’s questioning stare. “They were hurt. Some other humans attacking them.” Shrugging uncomfortably as he watches you. “I’m not that sparkless as to ignore something like that.”

• Picking half heartedly at the food in front of you, you listen to the confused explanations from the other three. Mostly the kid, Sari. They’re alien robots, twisting in your seat as she points and names the four lingering and watching your little group. The fifth one, Prowl, abruptly dropping through the hole in the roof to make you nearly fall out of your chair and one of the others scream. Landing in a crouch and slowly straightening to frown at all of you before joining the other robots. Aliens. Robot aliens. And every time you glance over, their group is watching your group.

• ‘We seem to have an infestation,’ Prowl murmurs as he glances at the humans all staring wide eyed back at him. And then immediately starting to whisper amongst themselves. “Leave ‘em be,” Ratchet growls. His and Optimus’s bruised and shaken. “Think humans attack each other like that often?” Realizing he’d thought of you as his, he frowns and catches you still glancing over at him. As if to make sure he’s still there. Watching over you. What would they have done if he hadn’t been there?

• ‘Yeah, the green one tried to pay me with this metal thing as big as my coffee table to babysit Sari here.’ One says as Sari immediately pipes up that she doesn’t need a babysitter. And it’s surreal, the fear and anxiety muted as you listen to them talking. The fact that they seem okay helping you, though one is bruised and tired looking, but they’d explained that they’d been attacked by a bad alien, but rescued by the blue and red one, Optimus. Not just robots. Sentient aliens. Attaching names to each of them making them a bit less intimidating. That and Sari’s insistence that they’re the good guys, the kid completely at ease with them. Watching the red and white one, Ratchet, watching you in turn, you offer him a hesitant smile. He hadn’t had to save you, it wasn’t his problem, but he still had.

Previous

[adoregojo]

mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s

i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.

warnings: some cussing ig?

nagi was never that charming.

'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.

even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.

so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.

and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.

at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.

and things switched around when you came to the picture.

first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.

slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?

it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.

maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.

then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.

for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.

Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.

perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.

possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.

you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.

and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.

so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....

so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.

STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!

so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.

he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.

"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.

the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.

and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.

"go out with me."

so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.

although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.

what a great timing.

after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.

huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).

20 points!

STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!

nagi really wasn't the best at this.

instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?

it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.

nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.

"nagi.. you're staring too much."

the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?

nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.

"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.

your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.

"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.

nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."

"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."

he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.

you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.

50 points!

STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!

third time's a charm, right?

however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.

so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.

maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.

it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..

not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.

plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?

"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.

that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.

at least he did something good that night?

70 points!

STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!

after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it

but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一

wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?

you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一

now that you did not expect.

it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.

"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.

he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.

but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.

but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.

"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.

you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..

but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..

every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.

"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.

"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."

nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.

nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.

you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.

you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.

you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.

nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.

80 points!

FINAL STEP: kiss.

the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.

"can i kiss you?"

was he trying to kill you?

you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一

"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"

"seishiro."

"eh?"

"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.

"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.

maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.

and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.

limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!

[fallingdownhell]

Heyaaa!

I saw your request is open soo...

Can i request gn reader with Ayato, Kazuha, Diluc, and Kaeya where the reader is pranking them by shouting their full name (since we know their full name) what is going to be their reaction?

Feel free to ignore or decline this request^^

I love this! So much! Thank you for your request<3 Characters Included: Kazuha; Diluc; Ayato; Kaeya Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; pranking the boys by calling their full names; not proofread yet Word count: 2,6k words Have fun with this one<3

Kazuha

This morning was peaceful, Kazuha thought as he layed in bed, the morning rays of the sun shining in through the open window. He let them warm his body as he slowly woke up more and more from his slumber.

When he extended a hand to feel for your sleeping body next to him, he found the space empty. Cold at that, indicating that you've been gone for a while.

A groan left him, Kazuha hated it when he woke up without you next to him. He'd much rather spend his morning cuddling you in bed than doing anything else.

But then the next moment, the smell of something cooking hit him, and he knew that you were already out and about making breakfast for the both of you.

So, with a sigh, Kazuha decided to get up and get himself ready before heading down to join you in the kitchen.

He got up from bed and stretched his body out first, then headed into the adjacent bathroom. Taking a shower first thing in the morning always felt refreshing to him and it most often than not was the last push he needed to fully wake up.

Once that was done and he headed out of the shower again, Kazuha got dressed and combed through some tight knots of his hair. He was still in the middle of doing so, when suddenly, the silence of the house was interrupted by a shout of his name.

"Kaedehara Kazuha! Get down here!", your voice shoutet and instantly, Kazuha's body froze up. There were a million thoughts in his head, and yet also, not a single one except for: he had somehow fucked up.

The tone in which you had shouted his name sounded mad and if that wasn't a clear indication about your mood, the use of his full name certainly was.

To not make your mood any worse, he hurried to put the comb away and throw the last piece of clothing on while he already hurried out of the bathroom and towards you into the kitchen. He was preparing himself internally for whatever it was that he did that pissed you off so much and already had a million apologies on his tongue.

But, to his surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found you there, utterly calm as you put the food on two plates for each of you. You didn't even notice him coming in.

"(Name), my love..", he carefully spoke, just in case, but in reality, he was so confused.

"Oh, good. Food's ready!", you look up and smile at Kazuha, which then throws him completely out of loop. He just stands there and stares at you.

"Is something the matter, dear?", you ask him, that smile still on your lips as you sit down at the table. That's when the puzzle pieces fall for Kazuha and he visibly relaxes, letting out a drawn out breath.

"Please, don't do that again, love. I was scared for my life."

You laugh at that, apologizing for scaring him that much. He doesn't really care as long as you apologize with a cuddle session afterwards.

Diluc

Since you moved in with Diluc at Dawn Winery, the time you spend together has improved significantly compared to before, but it still wasn't nearly enough as to what both of you would want it to be.

He still had lots of work to do, managing the Winery, the Angel's Share, and all the business he likes to take over as the Dark Night Hero. Even so, the fact that the two of you are now living under the same roof has changed things for the better.

You know get to see him every morning, since Diluc has made it a point to stay in bed until both of you have to get up for work. You always eat dinner together and he makes an effort to spend every other evening with you. He really tries his best for you.

He even moved his office next to your shared bedroom, so that there aren't too many rooms between you and when you want to see the other, you only have to go into the adjacent room and not wander the entire mansion.

Tonight was a night Diluc had dedicated to his work, which he made you aware of and you were okay with, since you told him that you could use the time to continue the book you were currently reading.

Diluc was hunged over stacks of papers, trying to sort them from most to least important before he went into looking over them. He had worked through a good portion of it already, thinking that he was making great progress. When he looked at the clock on the wall, it told him that it was already almost midnight.

But not to worry. In about an hour or so, he would be done and could join you in bed. Or so he thought. But when he wanted to continue his work after a short break, he suddenly heard you yelling from next door.

"Diluc Ragnvindr!", your voice shoutet his name and he immediately picked up on the tone of your voice. You sounded upset..

Instantly, he began thinking back, trying to figure out what could have made you angry at him. You were fine when he last saw you at dinner, smiling and laughing with him. Then he went to his office afterwards. He couldn't possibly have done or said anything to upset you... right?

His body, that had faced towards the door that lead to your shared bedroom, began to act on his own and he got up and walked over there. Diluc gently knocked on the door, opening it a bit and sticking his head through the gap.

You were laying on the bed, comfortably tucked in and reading your book.

"Everything okay, my love?", Diluc softly spoke up, not sure what to do but he definitely didn't want to make you further upset.

At the sound of his voice, you perk up and face him, a smile spreading on your lips. You place the book down on the nightstand before extending an arm towards him.

"I'm cold. Come cuddle with me." you say in a small pout, which confused Diluc even more. You sounded so mad just now when you yelled his name. Not just his name, but his full name! So why.. were you acting like nothing was wrong?

Still, he complied to your request, his work and papers forgotten for now as he joined you in bed. You made yourself comfortable in his arms, your head and part of your upper body resting on his chest as he began to play with some stands of your hair. Everything was peaceful, but Diluc's mind was still running, trying to make sense of everything. In the end, he decided to just ask you about it.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No? Why would I be?", you asked him, but your voice sounded sleepy already

"Because you were yelling earlier. And you used my full name. Not just my name or a petname. So I thought..", he got interrupted by a chuckle coming from you.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was just messing with you a bit. Just wanted you here to cuddle with you."

A joke... that's what it was. He couldn't help the relief that washed over him hearing that, and the tension finally left his body. He's not mad at you, but please, don't do that again if you don't want him to have a heart attack next time..

Ayato

Being the spouse of the head of the Kamisatio Clan was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. Although Ayato was a busy man with much work, he always made sure to make time for you to spend with him, just the two of you.

Every day, he made that effort, even though this sometimes meant even more stress for him with certain work if he put if off too long. But to him, it was worth it when he did it for you. He's a loyal man in that regard.

One of the downsides to this however, is the fact that this man often times overworks himself without even realising it. Before you came around, it was Ayaka's and Thoma's job - but mostly Thoma's - to take care of Ayato and remind him to take frequent breaks in between.

Now, you like to take over that part for Thoma, taking every chance you get to see your boyfriend, even if it's only a few seconds to remind him of a break or to bring him something to drink with some snacks.

Ayato really appreaciates you doing this for him, smiling every time and stealing a quick kiss before you're gone again. He thanks Celestia each and every day for you being so understanding with his work.

But that doesn't mean that there aren't still days where breaks just aren't possible and he has to power through or else it would never get done.

Today was such a day. Ayato leaned back and let out a heavy sigh as he finally finished with work for today. He has been sitting in this room - his office - the entire day, cramped up and not able to take even a single break. Come to think of it, he was so focused on his work that he didn't even know if you've come in here at all today to check on him. He's sure you did, as you did it every day, but he didn't even notice..

Not to worry. He would simply rest here for a few minutes, trying to come down before he would set out to search for you. Being in your presence was exactly what he needed to recharge some of his engery again.

Closing his eyes and listening to the silence around him, Ayato took a deep breath, calming down more and more the longer he continued to do so. Just a bit longer and he'll-!

"Kamisato Ayato!", a voice suddenly called out his name. And not just any voice, but yours.

His eyes immediately snapped open at the use of his full government name. No cute nickname, nor petname, not anything.

At first, he was too stunned to react, trying to figure out if what he heard was actually real or just something his brain made up. For a few seconds, he sat there and listened to the silence that followed. Just as he was about to relax again, he heard your voice calling him again.

"Kamisato Ayato! Get over here, now!", you shouted for him again, this time your voice sounded a bit more aggressive than before. Now he was certain that this was not his brain playing tricks on him...

Not knowing what had happened but also not wanting to upset you even more, Ayato quickly got up and exited the room. He didn't know where you were, but you sounded rather close, so there weren't too many options available. After looking through some rooms, he found you in the dining room, placing down plates full of steaming food on the table.

"Darling? Are you okay?", Ayato asked as he entered the room, wandering over to you and catching you in his arms, holding your face in his hands.

You smile up at him, circling your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Everythings fine. But you've been in there the whole day and dinner is ready so I figured I had to get you out of there somehow."

It then clicks in his head, that you weren't actually mad at him and it was just a trick to lure him out.

"Oh, you little devil~", Ayato smiles down at you, gently poking your nose which made you giggle.

"Hey, it was effective, wasn't it?", you defended yourself and he had to agree with you there. After all, no matter what, you'd always be his top priority..

Kaeya

You and Kaeya had a great relationship going. Both of you had busy jobs but you still tried to spend as much time together as possible. As a rule of thumb, you've come to an arrangement that every other day, one of you would spend the night over at the others place, since you're not living together at this point.

It's worked out great for you two and sometimes, even though you're together, you can still do your own things, and just enjoy each others presence.

Like today, for example.

You two were at your place, both on the couch. Kaeya was sitting comfortable at one end of the sofa, studying over some plans and things he had to look over for Jean for the knights, while you were laying down, head placed on Kaeya's lap while reading a book.

There was a comfortable silence as each of you was doing his own thing, though every now and then, Kaeya would reach down to brush through your hair. You knew he liked to do that as it calmed him down. And you enjoyed it, so no reason for you to complain about it.

However, it was getting late already, the fire also slowly dying down, so you decided to end your book for today. You told Kaeya that you'd go to the bathroom first, so he had a bit more time to study through the plans. He smiled at you and nodded while you headed towards the bathroom.

Kaeya sits there for quite some time, but he's not really focusing on the reports all that much anymore. He's getting tired and listening to the water running from the bathroom, he can't wait to get into bed with you.

So, deciding to leave it be for today, he places the papers down on the table and lets his head fall back to relax a bit until you were done in the bathroom. He wouldn't have minded to join you in there, either...

As he sat there, relaxing and thinking, he closed his eyes for a bit. But the longer he had them closed, his eyes grew heavier and heavier..

He was about to fall asleep, when suddenly..

"Kaeya Alberich!", you voice sounded from the bathroom and Kaeya's eyes snapped open at the use of his full name.

You'd never done that before, not even when you were mad at him beyond anything. What could he have done that could possibly bring out such a reaction in you?

Quickly, he got up and headed to the bathroom where he heard you from, but things weren't adding up for him. Everything was fine until a few minutes ago. You'd never done this, so why now, so suddenly?

There hasn't been any arguments the past weeks, everything was going smoothly. Unless he said or did something genuinely horrible..

But he was pretty sure that he didn't..

But if not, then there was only one other possiblity...

Rounding the corner, Kaeya knew immediately what was up when he saw you standing there, smiling brightly at him, looking like you were quite proud with yourself.

"Yes, my dear?", he asked, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Would you be so kind and help me with my hair?", you ask, your voice ever so sweet again, like you didn't do anything at all.

"Of course.", he leads you to the bed and makes you sit and face away from him before he goes to work on your hair, gently tangling out all the knots that had formed in them.

He won't say anything about it or hold it against you, but if you keep doing this over and over again, he might have to come up with something to teach you a lesson not to scare him like that again..

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ 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."

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER FIVE

"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 — 14k

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 — dare i say... the climax

masterlist

the meeting room at y/n’s company building buzzed with quiet chatter, the kind that filled the air before something important was about to begin. ayesha was the last to arrive, her stride purposeful as she entered, coffee in hand and her iPad tucked under her arm. her presence immediately silenced the room. ayesha didn’t need to demand attention; she simply carried it with her.

y/n sat at the far end of the table, directly across from trent. the space between them felt charged, like an invisible thread pulled taut. her thoughts were scattered, flitting between the memory of his whispered confession at the wedding and the way he kissed her like he meant every word. now, she couldn’t meet his gaze without the echo of when i kissed you, you became mine reverberating in her head.

trent, on the other hand, looked almost relaxed, his arm draped casually over the back of his chair. but she noticed the subtle way his thumb tapped against his thigh—a habit she’d picked up on when he was trying to mask his impatience.

“alright, let’s get started,” ayesha announced, setting her coffee on the table. her voice was brisk, professional. she didn’t waste time on pleasantries, diving straight into the matter at hand. “first, let me say that you two have done a phenomenal job so far. the public loves you together, and the numbers don’t lie—engagement is through the roof. every appearance trends, every post gets millions of likes. you’ve exceeded expectations.”

y/n offered a polite nod, though her heart wasn’t in it. she should’ve felt relief or even pride at ayesha’s praise, but instead, all she felt was the growing weight of her discomfort.

“that’s good to hear,” she murmured, her voice soft.

trent leaned back in his chair, his tone neutral. “so, what’s the problem?”

ayesha glanced between them, her lips pressing into a line. “it’s not a problem, per se. just… feedback. some fans and media outlets have noticed a lack of—” she paused, searching for the right word. “—intimacy between you two. they’re buying the relationship, but they want to see more sparks.”

y/n’s brows furrowed. “sparks?”

“intimacy,” ayesha clarified, her tone matter-of-fact. “the kind that makes people swoon. kisses, lingering touches, moments that feel unscripted. the fans want to believe you’re completely infatuated with each other.”

y/n blinked, the word kisses catching in her mind like a hook. heat crept up her neck, and she instinctively crossed her arms. “kisses? as in… on camera?”

“exactly,” ayesha confirmed, tapping her iPad. “right now, you two look comfortable together, which is great. but comfortable doesn’t sell the way passion does. we need you to push it a little further.”

trent frowned, his jaw tightening. “so, what are you saying? we have to start making out in public now?”

ayesha let out a small laugh, though it lacked humor. “nothing that extreme. but a kiss or two would go a long way. and it needs to feel natural, not staged. that’s why I’m suggesting a little… practice.”

y/n’s heart dropped. “practice?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yes,” ayesha said simply. “you need to rehearse it so it doesn’t look awkward when the cameras are rolling. think of it like choreography—just another part of the job.”

y/n’s chest tightened, the very idea making her stomach churn. practice kissing trent? the same trent who had kissed her at the wedding with such certainty it left her questioning everything? the same trent who had whispered that she was his like it was a fact, not a feeling?

“this is ridiculous,” trent muttered, running a hand down his face.

“ridiculous or not, it’s what’s needed,” ayesha said firmly. “you two are close. you’ve spent months building this dynamic. you’re almost there—just a little more effort, and it’ll be perfect.”

y/n shook her head, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. “this is too much. it’s one thing to act close or hold hands, but… rehearsing kisses? that’s too weird.”

ayesha arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “this is what you signed up for. no one said it would be easy.”

trent straightened in his seat, his tone sharp. “we’re doing enough. we don’t need to rehearse anything.”

ayesha gave him a pointed look but didn’t argue. instead, she stood, smoothing out the front of her blazer. “i’ll leave you two to figure it out. just remember—this only works if the public believes in it.”

she walked out of the room without another word, leaving the two of them in a silence that felt heavier than before.

y/n stared at the table, her mind racing. the thought of rehearsing a kiss with trent made her pulse quicken—not out of excitement, but out of sheer anxiety. she couldn’t forget the way he’d kissed her last time, how it felt like he was claiming her. would it be like that again? or would it feel rehearsed, hollow, nothing more than an obligation?

“you good?” trent’s voice broke through her thoughts, soft but laced with concern.

she nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak.

he tilted his head, studying her. “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

she glanced up, her eyes meeting his. “it’s not about what i want,” she said quietly. “it’s about what’s expected.”

trent frowned, his expression unreadable. after a moment, he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “for the record, i’m not rehearsing anything in front of anyone.”

her heart stuttered. “you’re not?”

his lips curled into a faint smirk, his voice dipping even lower as he leaned in. “nah. i don’t need a camera to make it real.”

his words sent a shiver down her spine, the heat of his breath brushing against her ear. she swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears.

before she could respond, trent pulled back, his smirk still in place. “just thought you should know.”

she stared at him, her thoughts a jumbled mess. and for the first time, she couldn’t tell where the line between acting and reality was supposed to be.

the private jet hummed softly as it cut through the sky, the low vibration a steady background to the quiet luxury of the cabin. sunlight streamed through the windows, catching on the sleek surfaces and glinting off the silver accents. y/n leaned back in her seat, an oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, her legs tucked under her as she scrolled aimlessly through the playlist on her phone.

trent sat across from her, leaning forward slightly as he tied the laces on his sneakers. his movements were casual, but his eyes kept drifting toward her, taking in the way the sunlight danced on her skin and the way she bit her bottom lip when she concentrated too hard. the intimacy of traveling together—just the two of them—was unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“you’ve been quiet,” trent said after a moment, his voice cutting through the soft hum of the jet.

she looked up, caught off guard. “quiet can be nice.”

he grinned, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “true, but it’s not as fun.”

y/n smirked, her fingers pausing on her screen. “and you’re all about fun, huh?”

“depends on the company,” he shot back, his gaze steady on hers.

her stomach flipped, but she masked it with a small laugh. “lucky for you, i’m excellent company.”

trent chuckled, his head tilting slightly as he studied her. “i’m starting to see that.”

the playful exchange eased the tension in the air, though the undercurrent of something more lingered.

“so,” she said, deciding to shift the focus, “monaco. have you been before?”

“a few times,” he said with a nod. “it’s a good vibe—fast cars, good weather, expensive everything.”

“sounds about right,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile. “first time for me, though. i’m excited.”

“you’re an f1 fan, right?”

she raised an eyebrow, impressed. “look at you, doing your homework.”

“what can i say?” he shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “i’m a man of many talents.”

“is that so?” she teased, leaning forward slightly. “name one.”

“besides football?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes glinting with challenge.

“obviously.”

“alright,” he said, leaning forward to match her posture. “i’m excellent at reading people.”

she scoffed, crossing her arms. “oh, really?”

“yeah.” he leaned back again, his expression smug. “like right now, for example. you’re trying really hard to act like you’re not impressed by me.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but the warmth spreading through her chest betrayed her. “keep dreaming, alexander-arnold.”

he laughed, the sound low and infectious. “you didn’t deny it, though.”

“anyway,” she said, brushing off his comment, though her cheeks felt warmer. “who’s your team?”

“alpine,” he said without hesitation.

she snorted. “of course. you’re an owner. you kinda have to, don’t you?”

“loyalty,” he said simply, though there was a playful glint in his eye. “what about you?”

“ferrari,” she said, her voice carrying just a hint of pride.

trent groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “you’re one of those fans.”

“what’s wrong with ferrari?” she challenged, sitting up straighter.

“they’re all flash and heartbreak,” he said, shaking his head. “every year it’s ‘this is our season,’ and then…” he made a crashing motion with his hand.

“okay, hater,” she shot back, laughing. “what do you want me to do? switch to alpine?”

“couldn’t hurt,” he teased. “might finally back a winner.”

“oh, you’re full of it,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“and yet,” he said, his grin widening, “you keep talking to me.”

“because you’re here,” she retorted, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

as the conversation flowed, the topics meandered—music, childhood memories, the wildest places they’d been. trent found himself cataloging the way she spoke, the way her voice lifted when she got excited or how her hands moved when she was trying to explain something.

“alright, one more,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “weirdest habit?”

she tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “i talk to myself. like, full-on conversations.”

he raised an eyebrow. “out loud?”

“yep.” she grinned, unbothered. “it’s helpful, though. keeps me organized.”

“and here i thought i was special, getting all your attention,” he joked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“you might be,” she said lightly, her tone laced with something unspoken.

trent’s smirk faltered for just a second, his gaze sharpening as if trying to decipher the meaning behind her words. but before he could respond, the jet dipped slightly, signaling their descent.

“and we are off,” y/n said, looking out the window with a soft smile as the jet dipped into its descent.

trent leaned back in his seat, his gaze shifting from the window to her face. “by the end of this weekend,” he said, his tone light but mischievous, “you’re gonna be head over heels for me.”

she turned to him, raising an eyebrow as a laugh bubbled out of her. “head over heels, yeah?.”

“just saying,” he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s monaco—good weather, great company, and me. kinda hard not to fall in love, don’t you think?”

she rolled her eyes, but the smile playing on her lips betrayed her. “you watch too many films.”

“like i said y/n i can read people. don't fight it, baby,” he said, flashing her a grin, “i know i am irresistible.”

“you really need to work on your humility,” she teased, shaking her head.

“what can I say?” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”

y/n turned back to the window, fighting the warmth spreading through her cheeks. “keep dreaming, alexander-arnold.”

trent chuckled softly, watching her for a moment before leaning back again, the grin on his face lingering.

trent leaned back in his seat, watching her. “this weekend’s gonna be interesting.”

she turned to him, her eyebrows raised. “why’s that?”

“just a feeling,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on hers a moment too long.

as the plane touched down, y/n found herself wondering if trent had been thinking about the kiss as much as she had. something told her she might find out sooner than later.

the room wasn’t massive, but it exuded the kind of luxury you’d expect from a monaco hotel during grand prix weekend. sleek furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sparkling harbor, and, of course, the bed. one bed. y/n stared at it for a moment, her lips twitching like she was trying to fight off a smile.

trent noticed immediately. “go on. say it.”

“say what?” she asked innocently, dropping her bag by the chair.

“whatever you’re thinking,” he said, kicking off his sneakers and leaning against the dresser, his arms crossed.

“i’m not thinking anything,” she said, trying to sound casual. but the gleam in her eye gave her away.

“uh-huh.” he cocked his head, his grin lazy. “you’re thinking about how all those rom-coms got it right. one bed. what will we do?”

she laughed, finally letting the smile break through. “don’t flatter yourself. i’m sleeping on the left side.”

“good, i’m a right-side guy anyway,” he quipped, brushing past her and pulling his suitcase onto the bed.

she shook her head and wandered toward the balcony, letting the sunlight hit her face as she leaned against the glass door. it was still early, the afternoon stretching ahead of them, but her excitement was practically buzzing beneath her skin. monaco. the grand prix. ferrari. it all felt unreal.

trent joined her after a moment, standing close enough that their arms brushed. “you’re vibrating.”

she looked up at him, feigning confusion. “what?”

“you’re so excited, you’re vibrating,” he teased, nudging her gently. “you’re gonna wear yourself out before we even get to the track.”

“i can’t help it,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “it’s monaco. and it’s f1. and—”

“and ferrari,” he finished for her, smirking.

she grinned, turning to face him fully. “as long as i’m in the same vicinity as charles leclerc, i’ll deal with being stuck at alpine with you all weekend.”

his brows shot up, mock offense coloring his tone. “oh, so i’m a burden now?”

“you catch on fast, honey,” she said, her voice sweet as syrup. “my goal is for him to fall in love with me at first sight this weekend.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned against the doorframe. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’m honest,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“yeah, well,” he said, his smirk fading slightly, “i wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

the way he said it caught her off guard—his voice softer, almost sincere. her teasing smile faltered, and she blinked up at him, her heart giving an odd little flutter. “don’t say that.”

“why not? it’s true,” he said simply, his gaze steady on hers.

she gulped, suddenly feeling too warm despite the gentle breeze wafting in from the balcony. “because... it’s not.”

he tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. “what do you mean?”

she hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor as she spoke quietly. “i don’t know. i just... i’ve never felt like someone people would fall in love with.”

trent’s expression softened, and he took a small step closer. “y/n.”

“it’s fine,” she said quickly, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “i’m being dramatic.”

“you’re not,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “and i don’t know who made you feel that way, but they’re dead wrong.”

she looked up at him again, his face so earnest it made her chest ache. she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. instead, she just nodded, offering him a small smile.

“good,” he said after a beat, his voice lighter now. “because if anyone’s falling in love this weekend, it’s you. with me.”

she laughed, grateful for the shift in tone. “you wish.”

“no, seriously,” he said, his grin returning. “by sunday, you’re gonna be looking at me like i’m the ferrari.”

“delusional,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“confident,” he corrected, winking.

they lingered there for a moment before he clapped his hands together. “right. let’s shower and get ready. you can drool over leclerc later.”

trent emerged from the bathroom, the faint scent of his cedarwood soap lingering in the air. his white shirt, crisp and simple, stretched effortlessly across his broad shoulders, tucked neatly into his light khaki pants. a navy alpine hat completed the look, the brim casting a shadow over his sharp features. he looked casual, understated—but impossibly good, the kind of good that made y/n’s breath hitch before she caught herself staring.

she pretended to adjust the strap of her bag, glancing away quickly, but he noticed. of course, he noticed.

“what?” he asked, a teasing edge to his tone as he stepped into his sneakers.

“nothing,” she said too quickly, the faintest hint of color blooming on her cheeks.

he smirked, tipping his hat slightly as he gave her an appraising look. “you sure? because you look like you’ve got something to say.”

“i don’t,” she lied, her fingers now fiddling with the halter tie of her dress.

trent’s eyes fell to the movement, and for a second, he forgot how to form words. the dress—a watercolored masterpiece in hues of soft blues, pinks, and greens—clung to her curves like it was made just for her. the halter neckline tied elegantly at the back of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, while the flowing skirt swayed gently as she moved. her braids were styled in a bohemian half-up, half-down look, with two delicate plaits framing her face. she looked radiant, ethereal, like a walking daydream.

“wow,” he breathed, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

her eyes snapped back to him, narrowing slightly. “what?”

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something warmer, almost reverent. “you’re... beautiful.”

her lips parted in surprise, and she quickly looked down, her fingers brushing over the skirt of her dress. “it’s just a dress,” she mumbled, but the shy smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

“it’s not just a dress,” he said, stepping closer. “and it’s not just you wearing it—it’s the whole thing. you look... unreal, y/n.”

she glanced up at him through her lashes, the warmth in his eyes making her chest tighten. “you clean up nice too, you know.”

he chuckled, adjusting the brim of his hat. “yeah, but it’s different for me. i just throw this on and call it a day. you look like a work of art.”

she didn’t respond, her cheeks burning as she brushed past him, heading for the door. “we should go,” she said, her voice light but hurried.

“i’m just saying,” he called after her, grinning as he grabbed his phone and followed her out.

the drive to the paddock was filled with her giddy excitement and his amused commentary. she couldn’t stop fidgeting, her hands smoothing over her dress, her fingers adjusting the braids framing her face every few minutes.

“you’re going to wear yourself out before we even get there,” trent teased, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“i can’t help it,” she admitted, her voice tinged with nervous energy. “this is monaco. this is f1. do you know how long i’ve waited for this?”

“about as long as you’ve waited to run off with leclerc,” he joked, earning a playful glare from her.

“don’t be jealous,” she shot back, folding her arms. “i can admire other men. it’s healthy.”

“admire, sure. but you’re already planning how to get him to fall in love with you,” he pointed out, a mock pout on his face.

“and you’re acting like that’s a bad thing,” she said sweetly, her grin widening. “i told you, trent—you’re just my ticket in.”

he shook his head, laughing. “unbelievable. and here i was thinking you liked me for my charm.”

she tilted her head, pretending to consider. “well, you’re a decent placeholder. but leclerc? leclerc is endgame.”

“you’re killing me, y/n,” he groaned, pulling into the paddock parking lot.

as they stepped out, the hum of engines and the chatter of the crowd surrounded them. trent walked beside her, his hand brushing hers as they made their way toward the alpine garage. but even with the buzz of monaco around them, his eyes kept drifting back to her—the way her dress caught the light, the way her braids swayed with each step, the way her excitement lit up her entire face.

“you’re really not gonna let the leclerc thing go, are you?” he asked as they reached the entrance.

she looked up at him, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “not until he signs his name across my heart.”

he groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “just don’t forget who got you here.”

“how could i?” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder. “you’re my ticket, remember?”

and even though he laughed, a part of him couldn’t help but wish she meant something more.

she rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing her things and disappearing into the bathroom. by the time they were dressed and heading out to the paddock, she felt lighter. trent had a way of doing that—making the weight she carried feel a little less heavy, even if he didn’t realize it.

as they stepped into the car waiting to take them to the track, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “thanks, by the way.”

he looked at her, puzzled. “for what?”

she shrugged, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “for being... you.”

he didn’t say anything, but the small, knowing smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

the hum of activity in the alpine garage was mesmerizing—engineers poring over screens, mechanics prepping tools, and the occasional roar of an engine reverberating through the space. y/n stood at the heart of it all, her wide eyes soaking in every detail, her posture attentive as an alpine engineer explained something about tire temperatures and aerodynamics. trent leaned against the edge of a table, arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of amusement and awe.

she wasn’t just nodding along politely; she was fully engrossed, asking thoughtful questions and leaning in to hear every word over the noise. when the cars roared to life, she clutched the headphones around her neck and slipped them on, her face lighting up like a kid on christmas morning.

trent pulled out his phone, unable to resist capturing the moment. he snapped a quick photo of her, the oversized alpine headphones dwarfing her head, her sundress flowing around her as she leaned slightly forward to get a better view of the cars leaving the garage. her expression was a mix of awe and excitement, and he couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the picture.

“you’re such a tourist,” he teased, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

she turned, her face glowing with excitement. “i am a tourist! this is so cool, trent. you have no idea.”

“oh, i’ve got some idea,” he said, gesturing to the way she practically vibrated with energy.

she giggled, pulling her phone out to post the photo he’d taken of her, captioning it with a simple, best day ever.

“you’re really going all in, huh?” he asked, his voice warm as he stepped closer to her. “when you told me you liked f1, i thought you meant casually. like... you’d catch a race here and there.”

she turned to him, arching a brow. “what? you thought i was a casual fan?”

“not fake,” he clarified, lifting his hands defensively. “just... casual. you’ve never taken this kind of interest in football.”

“that’s because i’ve been around football my whole life,” she said, tilting her head. “i know how it works. but this?” she gestured to the garage, the pit crew bustling around them. “this is fascinating. it’s not just the drivers—it’s the strategy, the technology, the speed... everything has to be perfect. one tiny mistake and it’s game over.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i mean, football’s kind of like that too.”

“not the same,” she argued, her lips quirking into a playful smile. “don’t get me wrong, football’s great and all, but there’s something about f1 that’s... different. it’s like this mix of art and science, and i just love it.”

he watched her as she spoke, the way her hands moved animatedly, the passion in her voice making his chest tighten. it was rare to see her this open, this excited, and he found himself hanging on every word.

“so what you’re saying is,” he began, a teasing lilt in his voice, “you’d rather be dating a driver than me?”

she laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “oh, absolutely,” she said, deadpan, before softening. “but you’ll do for now.”

“wow,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “i feel so special.”

“you should,” she shot back, smirking.

just then, the cars roared back into the garage after their laps, the sheer power of the engines making her visibly shiver with excitement. trent glanced down at her, the way her eyes lit up and her lips parted slightly as the mechanics swarmed the car.

“you’re really into this, aren’t you?” he asked softly, more a statement than a question.

she nodded, not taking her eyes off the cars. “i feel like i’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

trent leaned closer, lowering his voice. “you’re gonna have a hell of a time explaining to ferrari how you spent the morning in alpine’s garage.”

she turned to him, her smile playful. “it’s called getting the best of both worlds.”

he shook his head, laughing under his breath. “you’re spoiled.”

“you love it, boyfriend” she teased, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.

and as he looked at her, with her glowing skin, her excitement palpable in every fiber of her being, he couldn’t bring himself to disagree.

the evening in monaco was everything y/n had imagined and more—breathtaking, glamorous, and full of life. as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep shade of indigo, streaked with the last golden traces of the day. the lights of the city shimmered against the calm waters of the harbor, casting a romantic glow over everything. yachts dotted the water like floating mansions, their sleek lines and gleaming surfaces reflecting the luxury of the place.

trent, as usual, was by her side, dressed in a simple but sharp black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and a pair of dark jeans that fit him just right. his hair was slightly tousled from the breeze, and his smile was relaxed, yet there was something about tonight that made his usual confidence seem a little softer.

“you look beautiful as ever,” he said as they stepped out of the car, his voice filled with admiration. y/n was wearing a floor-length dress that shimmered with tiny gold threads woven through the fabric. the halter neck drew attention to her shoulders and the curve of her back, while the slit on the side revealed just enough of her legs to keep things teasingly mysterious.

“thank you,” she replied, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes scanning the cityscape in awe. “this place... it’s unreal.”

“yeah, it’s something, huh?” trent agreed, his gaze following hers as he took in the beauty of monaco with new eyes. “i’ve been here a few times, but it never gets old.”

they walked arm in arm through the bustling streets, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses spilling out from the open-air cafes and bars they passed. the air smelled of saltwater, expensive cologne, and the faint scent of florals from nearby gardens. everything about the night felt alive, full of possibility.

y/n could hardly believe she was here. this wasn’t just any night—it was a night in monaco, with trent, of all people, by her side. the whole experience felt like something out of a movie. and as they passed through a narrow alleyway that opened up to a terrace overlooking the bay, the moment felt so surreal that she had to pinch herself to make sure it was real.

they settled into a small, elegant restaurant perched above the water, the soft hum of the city below them blending with the soft jazz music that played in the background. candles flickered on each table, casting a warm glow over their faces. as they sat down, y/n noticed how the light seemed to catch trent’s eyes, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

“this is perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. she had never been one for extravagant nights out—her life was usually quieter, filled with studio sessions and late nights working on songs. but here, in this moment, she felt like she was living a dream.

“glad you think so,” trent said, his gaze lingering on her with something more than just the usual flirtation. there was a tenderness in the way he looked at her, as if the beauty of the night, the beauty of monaco, was nothing compared to the beauty he saw in her.

the waiter arrived, offering them drinks, and trent ordered something for both of them without hesitation. y/n was still taking in the view when she heard him laugh softly.

“what’s so funny?” she asked, glancing at him.

“you look so... content,” he said, the words carrying a sincerity that made her heart skip a beat. “i think i’ve finally found a way to impress you.”

y/n smiled, shaking her head. “you’ve been impressive since the start, trent. but this... this is special.”

“well, i’m glad i could do it right for once,” he replied, his grin widening as he raised his glass in a playful toast.

“here’s to special nights,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, letting the noise of the city fade into the background. y/n’s thoughts wandered back to everything she had been through with jadon, all the tension and confusion. but here, in this moment, with trent’s steady presence beside her, it was easy to forget about all of it.

the night stretched on, and as they walked through the streets of monaco hand in hand, she felt a connection to him that was deeper than just the shared moments of the day. she wasn’t sure what this was, but she knew she didn’t want it to end. for once, she allowed herself to feel completely lost in the beauty of the evening, in the beauty of the company beside her.

underneath the stars, in the city that never slept, y/n finally let herself feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the next day dawned bright and clear, the sun rising over the horizon, casting a golden hue over the sparkling water. the air was warm but not overwhelming, a gentle breeze ruffling the palm trees along the coastline of monaco. today was all about relaxation, fun, and escaping the world for a little while—trent had arranged a private yacht for the day, and y/n couldn’t contain her excitement.

as she stepped onto the deck, she squinted at the vastness of the sea, the water so blue it almost seemed unreal. the yacht, sleek and luxurious, was the epitome of comfort and style. a few crew members greeted them with smiles and drinks, and y/n instantly felt like she was in a dream.

trent, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and navy shorts, was already at the bow, his arms resting on the railing as he watched the waves. there was a sense of peace about him today, a break from the high-energy environment of racing and public life. when he saw her approach, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“you ready for this?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

“more than ready,” y/n replied with a grin, her heart racing a little at the sight of him looking so effortlessly handsome. she felt like she was getting to know him on a different level every time they spent more time together, and today was no exception.

they spent the morning out on the water, the yacht cutting through the sea with ease. y/n was in her element, the ocean air filling her lungs, the sun warming her skin. they chatted about everything and nothing—music, life, their dreams, their pasts. as she listened to trent speak, she found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the sound of her laughter blending with the gentle rhythm of the waves.

at some point, trent suggested they both jump off the yacht for a swim, and y/n eagerly agreed. with a playful smirk, he dove off the side, the splash sending droplets of water flying into the air. y/n followed soon after, her body hitting the water with a graceful dive. they swam side by side, laughing and talking as the world seemed to melt away around them.

after a while, they returned to the yacht, soaking wet but exhilarated. they lounged on the sunbeds, drying off under the warmth of the sun. y/n felt a peacefulness that she hadn’t experienced in ages. being here, with trent, surrounded by nothing but the vastness of the sea and the calm rhythm of the world, made everything else feel distant.

“this is perfect,” she said, her voice relaxed and content as she leaned back, her arms stretched out above her head.

“i’m glad you’re enjoying it,” trent replied, his eyes scanning her with an unreadable expression. there was something different in the way he was looking at her today, a deeper understanding in his gaze. “i’ve always liked the sea. it’s peaceful, you know? no noise, no chaos—just... you and the water.”

“yeah,” y/n murmured. “i feel the same way. i think that’s why i like being by the ocean so much.”

they both fell silent for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the water against the hull of the yacht. it was a comfortable silence, one that felt natural and easy between them.

“you know,” trent said, breaking the quiet, “i never thought i’d enjoy a day like this. just... doing nothing.”

“it’s not nothing,” y/n replied softly, her eyes meeting his. “it’s everything. sometimes the best days are the ones where you don’t have to do anything except be present.”

he smiled at that, his expression softening. “you’re right. it’s just... being with you here, like this. it feels... real, you know?”

“i know,” y/n said, her heart fluttering slightly in her chest. the way he spoke, the way he was looking at her—it felt like the beginning of something more than just a day spent together. it felt like the start of something that could change everything.

they spent the rest of the day on the water, drifting lazily from one beautiful spot to another, taking in the sights and enjoying each other’s company in a way that felt effortless. trent was more relaxed than she had ever seen him, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a quiet calmness. and y/n, for the first time in what felt like ages, felt like she could simply be herself—no expectations, no pressure, just her and trent, enjoying the simplicity of the day.

as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, y/n found herself lying next to trent on one of the sunbeds. she had her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for a brief moment, the world felt completely still.

“i’m glad we did this,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“me too,” trent replied softly, his hand lightly brushing against hers. “i think this is one of my favorite days.”

“mine too,” y/n murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed as the warmth of the day and the softness of his touch made her feel safe and content.

as the yacht slowly made its way back to the harbor, the sounds of the city growing louder in the distance, y/n realized that this day had been more than just a chance to relax. it had been a moment of connection, a step closer to understanding what they could have together. and as trent’s hand gently intertwined with hers, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something bigger than either of them could have predicted.

race day arrived with a palpable buzz in the air, the streets of monaco crowded with fans, cars zooming by, and the sound of engines roaring in the distance. the day felt electric, like the entire world was on the edge of something incredible, and y/n couldn’t help but feel her excitement build as she stood next to trent, her hand firmly clasped in his.

the paddock was a whirlwind of activity, engineers rushing around, teams prepping their cars, and journalists snapping photos. yet, amidst the chaos, it felt as though everything had slowed down when she looked at trent. the two of them, hand in hand, moving through the throng of people, a quiet bubble of space surrounding them.

as they approached the ferrari garage, trent squeezed her hand gently. “i thought you might want to watch with your favorite team today,” he said with a grin, his voice low and teasing.

y/n stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening in complete surprise. “wait—what?” her voice caught in her throat, and she felt her heart leap into her chest. she glanced at the garage in front of her, and her excitement erupted, almost too much to contain. “you’re—seriously—i can watch with ferrari?” she asked, a laugh of disbelief escaping her.

before she could process the words, she was already launching herself into his arms, her hands clutching onto his neck as she practically leaped into his chest. trent’s hands immediately went around her waist to steady her, his grip instinctively tightening as she buried her face in his neck, her body shaking with happiness.

he chuckled softly, a warm sound against her ear, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile as he held her close. “didn’t expect that kind of reaction, did you?”

“this is—this is everything, trent!” y/n laughed, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. “i can’t believe you did this for me!”

“well,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes, “you’ve been talking about ferrari non-stop since we got here, so i thought... why not give you the chance to see them up close?”

her joy was overwhelming, and without thinking, she found herself leaning up and planting a quick, impulsive kiss on his lips. it wasn’t the kind of kiss she had planned—it was a rush, a burst of emotion she couldn’t contain, a kiss sparked by the pure joy of the moment. it was soft at first, but as soon as their lips met, something inside of her snapped. the kiss deepened, the overwhelming happiness and excitement flowing into that single, unexpected moment.

trent froze for a split second, as if unsure what to do, before his hands moved instinctively to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. the kiss felt electric, something neither of them had anticipated, a perfect mix of surprise and desire.

it didn’t last long—just a few seconds—but when they pulled away, both of them were breathless. y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing, trying to figure out what had just happened. her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she couldn’t meet trent’s eyes, feeling the heat of the moment linger between them.

trent cleared his throat softly, his own breath coming in slightly quicker than usual. “uh... i didn’t... expect that.”

“me neither,” y/n whispered, still stunned by what had just happened. she tried to compose herself, but her hands were still trembling slightly as she pulled back. “i’m sorry. i just—i don’t know what came over me.”

trent laughed softly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to regain his own composure. “don’t apologize. i... didn’t mind,” he said, his voice a little lower than usual, almost playful, but there was a hint of something else there too—something softer. “but if you kiss me every time i do something nice for you, i’m gonna need a little more incentive.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly at the teasing in his tone, and she couldn’t help but laugh nervously, trying to cover up the sudden fluster of emotions she felt. “oh, please. i’ll leave you to your ferrari then. i’m sure you’ll get plenty of incentives to do nice things for me,” she teased back, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

but deep down, her heart was racing for an entirely different reason. it wasn’t just about the kiss—it was the connection, the intensity that had been building between them for days, and how, in that moment, it felt like everything had shifted. but instead of overthinking it, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the magic of it all.

“you’ll get plenty of ferrari time, trust me,” trent said with a wink, his voice lighter now. “but let’s head over and get you situated first, yeah? we’ve got the best view in the house.”

y/n nodded eagerly, still reeling from the kiss. she squeezed his hand tighter as they approached the ferrari garage, both of them aware of the sudden shift in their dynamic, but neither of them quite ready to say anything about it.

as they entered the garage, the team was already prepping the cars for the upcoming race, and y/n felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sight. the red and white cars gleamed under the lights, and she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. trent had outdone himself, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like they were just friends or casual acquaintances—it felt like something more.

y/n stood alone in the ferrari garage, her heart still racing from the thrill of being surrounded by her favorite team. the energy in the air was electric, and she soaked it all in—the mechanics hustling around, the cars revving, the intensity of the moment. it was everything she’d hoped for, and more. but as much as she tried to focus on the race prep, her mind kept drifting back to trent.

she hadn’t realized how much she’d gotten used to his presence until it was gone. a part of her missed him more than she expected. even with all the excitement around her, there was this undeniable pull, an ache she couldn’t ignore. she turned to the intern who had been helping her, still trying to maintain her excitement. “thank you for everything,” she said with a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes completely. “i’m gonna go check in on my boyfriend, if that’s okay.”

the intern gave her a nod, clearly understanding y/n’s need to leave. “of course, go ahead. enjoy!”

y/n didn’t waste another second. she quickly left the ferrari garage, the buzzing atmosphere fading as she stepped back into the corridor, and made her way toward the alpine garage, knowing exactly where trent would be. her steps quickened, her heart picking up pace with each one. she could feel him pulling her back, and before she knew it, she was standing just outside the alpine garage.

her eyes scanned the area until she spotted him—trent, focused on the engineers, his back to her as he listened intently to the discussions. without a second thought, she crept quietly behind him, the sound of her steps muffled by the noise of the paddock. standing just behind him, she reached out, her fingers slipping through his, the soft touch almost an unspoken request for connection.

trent froze at the unexpected warmth of her fingers, his body stiffening before he turned, surprised to find y/n standing there with a playful smile. his gaze softened immediately, and his lips parted in surprise. “y/n,” he said, his voice low, almost in disbelief. “you... you’re here?”

y/n shrugged, the smile never leaving her lips. “missed you,” she said, her tone casual, as if they’d said it a million times before. there was an ease in the way she spoke, as though her words were just the simple truth, something that had become second nature.

trent’s heart skipped a beat. “i missed you too,” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. but then his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes scanning her face. “but what about your ferrari?”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head as she leaned a little closer, her fingers still intertwined with his. “i would rather watch with you, if that’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “if you don’t mind, that is.”

trent’s chest tightened, but it wasn’t from surprise—it was from something else. something deeper. he wanted to say something, to respond with words that made sense, but instead, he found himself smiling at her again, as if this moment was exactly where he wanted to be.

he stepped closer, his hand squeezing hers gently, as if to reassure her that this was exactly where she belonged. “of course,” he said, his voice quieter now, the air between them thick with an unspoken understanding. “it’s more than okay. you know that.”

y/n’s smile widened, the connection between them deepening with just those few words. she squeezed his hand back before leaning in just slightly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder as they stood there together in the alpine garage, the world continuing to buzz around them, but for a moment, everything else faded away.

“thank you,” she whispered, the words so soft they could have been lost to the noise around them, but trent heard them, his heart stirring in response.

“no need to thank me,” he said quietly, his thumb grazing over her knuckles. “this... this is where i want to be.”

y/n tilted her head slightly, glancing up at him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he answered, his voice warm, the sincerity in his words clear. there was no pretending, no games—just the truth, raw and honest. “with you.”

she felt a flutter in her chest at his words, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the heat of the sun overhead or the intensity of the race. for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“so, you’ll watch with me then?” trent asked again, his hand still firmly in hers, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand.

“yeah,” y/n said softly, her smile finally matching the joy in her heart. “i’ll watch with you.”

and as they walked side by side into the alpine garage, the world of racing, the paddock, the noise, and the excitement all seemed to blur into the background. for that moment, it was just the two of them, and it was exactly enough.

after a long, thrilling day in monaco, the buzz of the race still lingered in the air, but the hotel room offered a sanctuary of quiet. the lights of the city stretched out beyond the massive window where y/n stood, her silhouette bathed in a soft glow. monaco's music drifted faintly from the streets below, but inside, the silence between her and trent was almost deafening.

y/n’s thoughts were a tangled mess. the adrenaline from the day still coursed through her, but it wasn’t just the race, the excitement, or even the glamour of monaco that had her heart racing. it was trent—the way he smiled at her, the way his touch lingered a second too long, the way his presence filled every empty corner of her mind. it was becoming harder to ignore the feelings she had fought so hard to suppress.

trent, standing by the bed, had been quiet, his movements deliberate as he shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. his gaze kept flickering to her, the tension in the room palpable. he didn’t say anything at first, but y/n could feel the weight of his eyes on her.

in the window’s reflection, their gazes met. his stare was intense, burning, and y/n’s breath hitched. her body tensed under the force of his attention, her heart hammering against her ribcage.

she turned slowly, her chest tightening as she faced him. “what?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer.

trent took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “nothing,” he murmured, though the way his gaze darkened told her everything. “you’re just… standing there like you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

her lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. “you’re imagining things.”

“am i?” he asked, his voice low, rough. the way he looked at her now was different—more certain, more determined.

she didn’t answer. couldn’t. the space between them seemed to shrink with each breath, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like it might snap.

trent crossed the room in a few measured strides, stopping just short of her. his hand lifted, brushing against her bare shoulder, and y/n shivered at the warmth of his touch.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

she nodded, though her throat felt dry. “yeah,” she whispered. “it’s just been a long day.”

his hand slid down her arm, his touch light but firm. “long but good?”

“really good,” she said, her voice barely steady.

trent’s eyes searched hers, and for a moment, he seemed hesitant, as though teetering on the edge of a decision. then, as if something inside him snapped, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly—testing, tentative.

y/n froze for half a second, her mind screaming at her to stop, to think, but her body had other plans. she kissed him back, her lips parting slightly as his deepened the kiss, his hand cupping her jaw to angle her closer. her fingers found the fabric of his shirt, clutching at it as if he might slip away.

his kiss was slow but deliberate, every movement purposeful, every touch igniting something deep inside her. the heat between them was undeniable, and as his lips trailed to her jaw, down to her neck, she tilted her head, giving him more access.

“trent,” she whispered, his name slipping from her lips like a prayer.

he groaned softly against her skin, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against him. “you drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

her breath caught, and she laughed softly, though it came out shaky. “you’re not exactly subtle, either.”

he pulled back just enough to look at her, his dark eyes searching hers. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

she didn’t answer with words. instead, she tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers and sliding it off his shoulders. her fingers traced the lines of his chest, the heat of his skin burning under her touch. “does that answer your question?”

trent’s restraint snapped, and he kissed her again, this time harder, more desperate. their bodies pressed together as his hands roamed over her, exploring, claiming. y/n’s back hit the window as he pressed her against the cool glass, his lips never leaving hers.

her hands slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck as she pulled him even closer. the room seemed to fade away, the only thing grounding her being the feel of him—his lips, his hands, the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against hers.

“you’re unbelievable,” he muttered against her lips, his voice low and filled with need.

“you’re one to talk,” she shot back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him in for another kiss.

trent chuckled softly, his lips curling into a smirk. “you’re gonna be the death of me, y/n.”

“maybe,” she whispered, her voice teasing, her breath warm against his skin. “but what a way to go.”

and just like that, they were lost again, their lips crashing together as the night stretched out before them, filled with nothing but the sound of their breaths, their whispers, and the unspoken promise of something neither of them could deny anymore.

the morning after was a blur for y/n. she woke up wrapped in the warmth of the sheets, a soft light filtering through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. everything felt surreal. the scent of trent still lingered on her skin, a reminder of last night—the kisses, the touches, the way everything had shifted between them. she felt like she was floating, as if her feet weren’t quite touching the ground.

it was the kind of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time. for the first time in ages, y/n felt at peace, like she was exactly where she needed to be. in that moment, nothing mattered except the way trent’s body had fit so perfectly with hers, how she had melted into him, and how, for a few hours, the world had felt small and warm and right.

but as she shifted slightly, rolling onto her side to look at him, the cloud of happiness hanging over her began to crack. trent was still asleep beside her, his body relaxed, the soft rise and fall of his chest calming her own heart. he looked peaceful, his hair a little mussed, his face softened by sleep.

y/n sat up slowly, her fingers running through her hair as she tried to collect her thoughts. she shouldn’t have let herself get this carried away. the night had been amazing, but it was just that—one night. she could already feel the walls inside her starting to rebuild, the defense mechanisms she’d spent years perfecting slowly creeping back.

her heart skipped a beat when trent stirred, stretching lazily before his eyes fluttered open. he blinked a few times, his gaze softening when he saw her sitting there, still in a haze, the warmth of the room reflecting in her eyes.

“morning,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep, a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“morning,” she murmured, her own voice hoarse, though she tried to hide it.

he shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her more fully. “you sleep well?”

she nodded, her heart in her throat. “yeah. better than I have in a while.”

his smile widened, but there was something distant in his gaze—something that made y/n’s stomach tighten. he seemed content, comfortable, and in that moment, she couldn’t help but think about the words that had been left unspoken.

“good,” trent said, his voice soft, almost absent. he seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment before he finally broke the silence.

“it was... good, last night,” he said, sitting up slightly, his hand brushing through his hair. there was a casualness in his tone, an almost too-casual air that made y/n's chest tighten. “just a... casual thing, right?” he added, his eyes meeting hers, but there was an unreadable expression on his face, like he was waiting for her response, as though he wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

y/n froze. her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, she couldn’t find the words. she had imagined this conversation would go differently, but she hadn’t prepared herself for the weight of it.

“yeah,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. she couldn’t bring herself to correct him—not when the truth was that part of her wanted it to be more, but she couldn’t say that. not yet. not when she wasn’t sure what this even meant.

he looked at her with a faint smile, his expression light, almost relieved. “right,” he said, as if it had all been settled in his mind. he reached over to the bedside table, grabbing his phone and scrolling through something, clearly shifting his attention. it made y/n’s heart sink, the distance between them suddenly feeling so much wider than it had been last night.

“i’m glad we’re on the same page,” trent muttered, his eyes still on his phone, though y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing now.

the weight of his words hung in the air like a cold draft, and y/n had to look away, pretending like it didn’t sting, pretending like she wasn’t suddenly questioning everything she thought she’d felt. she had known the risks—known that trent was the type to keep things casual—but for some reason, hearing him say it out loud, so casually, made her chest ache.

“me too,” y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible even to herself.

trent didn’t notice the shift in her mood, still distracted with whatever was on his phone. y/n tried to steady her breath, trying not to let the hurt show on her face. it wasn’t about him, not really—it was about her. she had let herself get caught up in something, and now, she was paying the price for it.

the silence stretched on, the weight of it pressing down on y/n’s shoulders. she felt like she was suffocating under the pressure of her own emotions. she had given him a piece of herself last night, something she rarely did, and now it felt like it meant nothing to him.

“well,” trent said after a moment, breaking the silence with an air of finality, “we should probably get ready for the day. the yacht club waits for no one.”

y/n froze, his words cutting through her like ice. the yacht club. of course. not a casual day to relax or something intimate—it was always about appearances.

she nodded, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. “yeah, of course.”

she stood up from the bed, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling cold suddenly despite the warmth of the room. trent didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in whatever was on his phone, and y/n couldn’t help but feel like a fool. she had wanted this to be different. but now, she realized just how much of it had been her own hopes clouding her judgment.

as she walked to the bathroom, she couldn’t stop the way her heart clenched. trent’s words echoed in her mind, over and over again. just a casual thing, right?

and for the first time in a long time, y/n felt the weight of being undeserving of anything more.

y/n felt the bile rise in her throat as she walked into the bathroom, her hands shaking as she gripped the sink. the weight of what had just happened hit her like a wrecking ball. she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. how had she let herself get here again? she had convinced herself it was different this time, that it was more than just another one-night thing. but the moment trent had spoken those words, it all came crashing down.

it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her, leaving her sinking into an abyss of sadness and self-loathing. the warmth of the bed, of his arms around her, felt like a lie now. she had let herself feel too much, let herself believe in something that wasn’t real. and she had been so stupid. she had fallen for it again. she had given him everything—her body, her heart, her trust—and all he had done was take it.

her stomach turned, and she leaned over the sink, the tears welling up, blurring her reflection in the mirror. how could she have been so foolish?

the realization hit her like a wave crashing onto rocks. she was just another hookup. it was the same story, over and over again, with every guy she let close. they take what they want, and then they walk away, leaving her broken and used.

she stood there for what felt like an eternity, the sobs wracking her body, her chest tight with the weight of the heartbreak that felt so familiar but still so crushing. why couldn’t she be enough?

by the time trent was out of the shower and getting dressed, y/n had managed to pull herself together, wiping away the tears and quickly splashing cold water on her face, trying to hide the redness. but the heaviness in her chest was undeniable. she couldn’t bear to face him right now. how could she look at him? how could she pretend she was okay when all she wanted to do was cry?

when he entered the room, still pulling on his shirt and looking distracted, he paused when he noticed she wasn’t moving, still standing by the window, staring out at the bright monaco skyline, as if she were miles away.

“hey,” trent said, his voice light, but there was a hint of concern when he noticed how quiet she was. “you okay?”

y/n didn’t turn around. she kept her back to him, her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the window frame. she couldn’t bring herself to face him right now. how could she, when all she felt was emptiness and betrayal?

“yeah, I just… I don’t feel well,” she finally said, her voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the fragile hold she had on herself. “I’m… I’m going to stay back.”

trent was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was gentle but tinged with confusion. “oh,” trent said, straightening his cuffs. “you sure? the yacht club’s one of the best of monaco. it’s your chance to experience it to the fillies. it’s gonna be fun—you don’t want to miss it.”

her chance? the words stung, but she swallowed it down, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I’m too sick, trent. I’m sorry.”

there was a pause, then a small sigh from him. y/n could hear him walking over to his bag, zipping it up, the sound of his movements in the background. “alright,” he said, his tone softening just a little. “if you’re sure. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“feel better, okay?” he added, while press ing a chaste kiss on her head and y/n could hear the lightness in his voice, like he had already moved past whatever this moment was. just a casual thing, right?

she didn’t respond. didn’t want to. didn’t have it in her.

when she heard the door close behind him, the tears that had been held back finally broke free. she sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, letting herself fall apart completely. the ache in her chest was unbearable. how many times would she let herself be treated like this?

the day stretched on as she lay there, heartbroken and hollow, crying uncontrollably. she didn’t care that it was race day. she didn’t care that the sun was shining, that monaco was alive with excitement. all that mattered was the silence left in the wake of trent’s absence.

y/n let herself cry, letting the sadness and the anger and the betrayal flood out of her. how had she let herself get this far, let herself care about him, only to have him walk away like it meant nothing?

the feeling of being nothing but a fleeting moment, something to pass the time, was suffocating. she had wanted so much more. but once again, she wasn’t worth more than a casual fling, a one-night thing.

and with each passing second, the hole inside her seemed to grow bigger, deeper. she thought about what she had done, how she had let herself believe in something that had never really been there. how had she been so naive?

she buried her face in the pillow, silently pleading with herself to stop, to let it go—but it was too late. everything had already broken. and now, all she could do was cry.

trent leaned against the railing of a yacht in monaco, his eyes scanning the turquoise waters as a warm breeze ruffled his shirt. the city’s energy hummed around him—laughing voices, the rev of engines, the clink of glasses—but it barely registered. he had busied himself for days, hopping between events, brushing shoulders with national teammates and celebrities, pretending to enjoy the chaos of the grand prix weekend. yet, there was a persistent knot in his chest, one he couldn’t shake.

it always came back to her.

he hadn’t heard from y/n since that morning when she said she wasn’t feeling well. she hadn’t replied to his texts or picked up his calls, and the silence was starting to eat at him. at first, he chalked it up to her needing space. after all,

the words echoed in his head like a taunt now. he frowned, taking a sip of his drink as one of his teammates clapped him on the back, dragging him into conversation. “where’s y/n?” the guy asked, looking around. “figured she’d be glued to your side this weekend.”

trent’s jaw tightened. “she wasn’t feeling well. stayed back at the hotel,” he replied evenly, though the words felt hollow.

“shame. she’s stunning, mate. i’m a huge fan. didn’t know you had it in you to land someone like that,” another player teased, grinning. “i can tell your whipped for her”

the question hit trent harder than it should have. he forced a chuckle, brushing it off with a noncommittal shrug. “just keeping it light, you know?” the words tasted bitter, but he said them anyway. it’s what people expected from him, wasn’t it? detached, easygoing, never tied down.

but as the hours dragged on, the usual distractions didn’t work. by the time he returned to the hotel, his patience was fraying. the suite was silent, the air eerily still. his eyes immediately fell on her phone, sitting abandoned on the nightstand. his heart sank.

she wouldn’t just leave without her phone, would she?

panic began to creep in as he moved through the room, checking for any sign of her. her bag was gone, but the small, familiar things she always carried—her lip gloss, a half-full water bottle, a pair of sunglasses—were still scattered around. it was like she’d vanished mid-thought.

trent sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his face. his mind raced with questions. where had she gone? why hadn’t she said anything?

this wasn’t him. this frantic, restless feeling—it wasn’t who he was. he was always the one in control, the one who kept his distance. but now, with y/n’s absence hanging heavy in the air, he felt like he was losing his grip.

he picked up her phone, staring at the blank screen as if it could give him answers. her last message played on a loop in his head: i’m not feeling well. had he missed something? had she been trying to tell him more?

his stomach twisted as guilt settled in. the memory of her standing by the window that morning, her back to him, came flooding back. she’d been quiet, distant, but he hadn’t pushed. he’d taken her words at face value and left, convincing himself that giving her space was the right thing to do.

but what if it wasn’t?

trent stood abruptly, pacing the room as his frustration mounted. this was the opposite of what he’d promised himself. he didn’t get attached. he didn’t let anyone in enough to feel like this—unmoored, desperate, helpless. but y/n had slipped past every defense he’d put up, and now, with her gone, the void she left behind was unbearable.

he grabbed his phone, scrolling through their messages, rereading her last text for the tenth time. his fingers hovered over the call button, but he knew it wouldn’t help. her phone was here. wherever she was, she didn’t want him to find her.

the thought sent a sharp pang through his chest. trent sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands, as the weight of it all hit him. he had no idea where y/n was, no way to reach her, and the realization was suffocating.

for the first time in as long as he could remember, trent felt completely out of control. and it terrified him.

the night in monaco felt different to y/n. the glamour of the city, the lights flickering like stars above her, did nothing to lift the heaviness that had settled in her chest. it had been building all day, the weight of the realization that she was just another fleeting moment to trent. she felt like she was suffocating under it.

trent, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious. before he left, he tried to pull her closer, but she didn’t respond in the way he expected. there was no playful teasing, no soft laughter—just a wall between them, one he couldn’t see, one she had built up with all the hurt she felt.

as she left the room, her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. she stepped out into the cool, crisp night air, breathing in deeply, trying to steady herself. the streets were alive with the hum of activity, but it felt like the world was moving in slow motion around her. she had been here before—alone, questioning everything, wondering how she always ended up in the same place. why was she always the one left behind?

she wandered down the streets, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestones, each one feeling heavier than the last. she walked with no real destination, just trying to distance herself from the hotel, from trent, from everything that had happened.

eventually, she found herself near the docks, an alcove tucked away from the busy streets. she sat down, letting her legs dangle over the edge, staring out at the water. the calmness of the sea did nothing to ease the storm inside her. her heart felt raw, exposed, vulnerable. she had given so much, trusted so much, and for what? another empty promise?

how did she get here again?

y/n thought back to the way she had felt when she first met trent, how easy it had all seemed. it was different then, right? but now, the more she thought about it, the more it all felt like a game to him. she had wanted to believe in the tenderness, in the soft words they shared, but in the end, it was just another night. another night of being used, being tossed aside.

and for what?

her mind kept going in circles, the same questions, the same doubts. had she meant anything to him? or was she just a distraction, a pretty face to keep him entertained while he was away from his usual life? she wanted to believe that they had something real, but everything he had done—everything he hadn’t done—told her otherwise.

a tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by how weak she felt. this wasn’t her. she had always been strong, always been the one who kept her heart guarded, kept it safe. so why had she let him in? why had she been so stupid, so naive?

she stared down at the water, her reflection barely visible in the ripples. did she really become forgotten once again?

a deep sigh escaped her lips as she pulled her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. her heart was a heavy weight in her chest, a burden she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried. all the walls she had built around herself seemed to have crumbled with trent, and now she was left standing in the ruins, wondering if she would ever be able to rebuild.

she stayed there for what felt like hours, just lost in her own thoughts, until the sounds of the docks started to fade, and the city’s lights blurred into the distance. her mind was spinning, her heart aching, and no matter how much she tried to focus on anything else, all she could think about was how much she had trusted him—and how much it hurt to realize that trust had been misplaced.

finally, she stood, her legs shaky from sitting so long. she didn’t want to go back to the hotel, didn’t want to face him, but she had no choice. her steps were slow, heavy, as if the weight of the night had settled into her bones. she wasn’t sure what she was going back to—more lies, more pain, more broken promises. but she knew one thing for sure: she had to face him, even if her heart was already shattered beyond repair.

y/n stepped through the lobby doors of the hotel, her body heavy with exhaustion. the night air clung to her skin, and though monaco's glitz and glamour buzzed outside, she felt none of it. her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, and her head hung low, a visible shield against the world.

the elevator ride felt interminable, and when the doors opened to their suite, she braced herself. trent was sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly. the moment he saw her, his head snapped up, relief flashing across his face before it quickly hardened into something sharper.

"where the hell have you been?" his voice was low but taut, like he was holding himself together by a thread.

y/n didn’t answer immediately, her fingers working at the hem of her jacket as she stepped inside, letting the door click softly shut behind her.

"seriously, y/n. you left your phone here. you disappeared for hours, and we—" he paused, standing now, his brows furrowing. "we had appearances today. i tried calling you. multiple times.”

she shrugged, the movement slow and detached. "guess i forgot." her voice was soft, void of its usual spark, and she avoided his gaze entirely as she walked further into the room.

"forgot?" trent repeated, disbelief laced with irritation. "this isn’t just about forgetting your phone, y/n. you were gone. i didn’t know where you were. do you have any idea—" he stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "you can’t just disappear like that. especially not today."

"oh, right," she said bitterly, finally looking up at him. her expression was tired, but her voice carried a quiet sting. "the appearances. i forgot that’s what this was."

trent froze, her words sinking in like a stone thrown into still water. she wasn’t yelling or defensive; she sounded… defeated. like she didn’t even have the energy to fight him.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone softening slightly.

she let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "it doesn’t matter, trent. i was gone. i’m back. let’s just drop it, yeah?"

"no," he said firmly, stepping closer to her, his eyes searching her face. "no, i’m not dropping it. you’ve been off since this morning, and now you’re acting like this whole thing doesn’t matter. what’s going on with you?"

"nothing," she said quickly, too quickly. "i’m just tired."

but trent wasn’t convinced. the way her shoulders slumped, the way her voice wavered—it wasn’t just tiredness. it was something deeper. and it didn’t sit right with him.

"y/n," he started, his voice quieter now, but she cut him off.

"i’m fine, trent. just let it go." she moved past him, heading toward the bedroom, her movements sluggish.

he stood there for a moment, watching her retreating form, his frustration mingling with concern. this wasn’t like her. she wasn’t just fine—he could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. something was wrong, and it gnawed at him that she wouldn’t let him in.

“you’re not fine,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face. he wanted to push, to demand answers, but the way she had looked at him just now—like the fight had already drained out of her—made him pause.

in that moment, for the first time in forever, trent felt completely unsure of what to do. and it terrified him.

the hum of the plane was constant, filling the quiet tension between them. trent sat in the aisle seat, his elbows resting on the armrests as he stole glances at y/n beside him. she was pressed up against the window, her headphones on, her gaze fixed on the endless expanse of clouds outside. her face was void of its usual light, her features distant and unreadable.

he had tried to speak to her earlier, but every attempt was met with short, clipped responses, or worse—silence. and now, watching her, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was deeply wrong.

she hadn’t been herself since monaco, since—

trent stopped his thoughts abruptly, shifting in his seat. he didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to believe that that night had anything to do with this. everything had seemed fine until then.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly, leaning closer, his voice cutting through the low hum of the cabin.

y/n didn’t turn to him. didn’t even flinch. she simply nodded, her fingers fidgeting with her headphones. “i’m fine,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

but she wasn’t fine, and he knew it.

“you’ve been quiet,” he said, his tone careful, like he was afraid of pushing too hard. “more than usual. is it something i said? something i did?”

her chest tightened at his words, her stomach twisting painfully. she shook her head, still staring out of the window. “it’s nothing, trent. just tired.”

tired. she kept saying that, like it could explain the hollowness he saw in her eyes, the way she avoided his gaze, the way she had disappeared without a word in monaco.

trent leaned back in his seat, his jaw tightening. he hated this, hated not knowing how to fix whatever had gone wrong. “you disappeared for hours,” he said softly, almost to himself. “i thought something happened to you.”

“i’m here now,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of emotion.

“but you weren’t,” he pressed, frustration creeping into his tone. “you just left. didn’t tell me where you were going, didn’t answer your phone. and now—” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “now you’re acting like i don’t even exist.”

her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. acting like he doesn’t exist. she wished he didn’t, wished she could erase the memory of his hands on her skin, his voice murmuring soft words in the dark. but it was there, imprinted on her, and it made her feel sick.

she closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay composed. “i said i’m fine, trent. can we just drop it?”

but he couldn’t drop it. not when every instinct told him that she was hurting, that something was deeply wrong. “you can’t just shut me out like this,” he said, his voice low but firm. “i care about you, y/n. i—”

“stop,” she cut him off, finally turning to face him. her eyes met his for the first time, and the pain in them made his chest ache. “please, just stop.”

trent stared at her, his words caught in his throat. he didn’t understand. everything had been fine. better than fine. they had laughed, talked, connected in a way that felt natural, effortless. and then—

then they had slept together.

he pushed the thought away again, refusing to believe that it was the cause of this sudden shift. but the way she looked at him now, like being near him was unbearable, made doubt creep into his mind.

when the plane landed, y/n stood quickly, grabbing her bag and avoiding his gaze as she moved toward the exit. trent followed close behind, his mind racing.

outside the terminal, the cold uk air hit them like a slap. trent pulled his jacket tighter around himself, watching as y/n stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, her eyes downcast.

“so… what now?” he asked, his voice cautious.

she glanced at him briefly, her expression guarded. “i’ll be busy for a while. i need to work on the album.”

“busy?” he repeated, frowning. “for how long?”

“i don’t know,” she said, her voice flat. “a while.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “y/n, can you just—”

“trent, please,” she interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. she swallowed hard, shaking her head. “i can’t do this right now.”

he stared at her, the words dying on his tongue. there was something final in her tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“is this about monaco?” he asked finally, his voice quiet.

her body stiffened, and she let out a shaky breath, her eyes darting to the ground. she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t let him see the tears that threatened to spill.

“i have to go,” she said instead, her voice barely above a whisper. she turned away before he could respond, her steps quick and purposeful.

trent watched her go, his chest tightening with a mix of confusion and helplessness. he didn’t understand what had gone wrong, didn’t know how to fix it. but as he stood there, the weight of her absence already settling over him, one thing was clear—this wasn’t just about monaco.

trent watched her walk away, the hollow space between them growing wider, feeling the unsettling ache of losing something he didn’t fully understand.

next

© PDRIESTA 2025

[icycoldninja]

Could you write to the DMC boys with some F reader that really makes them nervous? like what would make each of them blush about their gf, his actions, the way she talks to them, the style of dressing, the type of body contact, those things haha ​​please and thanks! love uuuu

I love you tooooo! Enjoy! 💜

Sparda boys + V x Fem!Reader who makes them nervous headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Literally everything you do, from the way you move to the way you talk, all of it sends butterflies flaping about in Dante's stomach.

-He feels like an idiotic schoolboy with a crush, and while the first part isn't true, the last part is.

-He gets all fluttery on the inside when you so much as approach him, even though you guys are already dating.

-Can't help but blush (and slightly purr) when you sit down next to him and put your arms around him.

-He's just so infatuated with you, your mere presence sends his body temperature through the roof.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil isn't the type to get nervous, or so he thought, until you walked into his life for the first time.

-He doesn't know why, but everything about you sets him on edge--in a good way.

-Your clothes and how they hug the curves of your body seem to contribute the most to his nervousness; captivating his attention so he can't take his eyes off you, even for a moment.

-He hangs onto every word that comes out of your mouth, no matter how insignificant it might be. You fascinate him.

-Of course, he can't let anyone know this, so he tries his hardest to keep up his cold persona and sits there, arms folded, watching you with subtle, yet still noticeable softness in his eye.

□ Nero □

-Nero finds himself fumbling with his words whenever you speak to him and he has no idea why.

-Nero's not socially awkward, so it makes no sense for him to act this way, yet he does, all because he gets nervous around you.

-Just glancing at him makes him sweat; he has to wear massive amounts of antiperspirant if he wants to be around you without turning into a sticky goblin.

-He's so in love with your eyes and voice, how you look at him, how you talk to him. It makes him fantasize about things he'd never have thought about before.

-Even though you guys are dating, Nero gets so excited and anxious around you because...well...you just stun him.

● V ●

-V is purely enamored by your presence. When you look at him, speak to him, touch him, or sit next to him, he feels his face heat up.

-He blushes a lot around you, so much so that his pale face turns a lovely shade of pink. Griffon teases him a lot for this reason.

-V acts like a high schooler with a really bad crush and fills at least 5 thick journals with love poems that he's too nervous to give to you.

-He's worried he'll trip over his words when speaking to you, so he tries to limit his speech when in your presence. To others, this looks like he's calm, mysterious, and cool, but on the inside, the man is freaking out.

-Despite the fact that you guys are already in a pretty stable relationship, V is still super jittery around you.