#like sometimes. (this is going to sound insane) sometimes they sound too fast to me

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

have you heard of cute aggression i imagine mc having a case of this with sebastian and he's like well at least it's cus she loves me

At Least She Loves Me | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Omg ofc I know what cute aggression is and I LOVED WRITING THIS. ID CHOMP SEBASTIAN TOO IF I COILD.

Words: ~700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Fluff

Sebastian Sallow had no idea what he had done to deserve this.

It wasn’t that he was complaining, necessarily. He liked when you paid attention to him—sought it out, even. But the way you were staring at him now, like a kneazle about to pounce, was putting him on edge.

He tried to ignore it at first. He really did.

But he could feel your gaze burning into the side of his face, your fingers twitching like you were physically holding yourself back from doing something rash. He did his best to focus on the essay in front of him, quill scratching steadily against the parchment, but when you huffed—a dramatic little exhale that was so very you—he finally snapped.

“You’re staring.”

“Mm.”

Sebastian lifted his head slowly, as if moving too fast would provoke you into an attack. “What now?”

“You’re being too cute again.”

Sebastian blinked. Once. Twice. Then, just to be sure, “Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

He set his quill down, eyeing you suspiciously. “I really don’t think I did.”

“You do cute things, Sebastian.” You gestured vaguely at him, your hands moving like you were trying to physically pluck the words from the air. “And it’s making me lose my mind.”

Sebastian leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms along the top of it as he smirked. “Go on.”

“See?! This! This is what I mean! You’re all smug about it, which makes it worse!”

He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “So let me get this straight—you think I’m cute and that’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Because it makes me want to shake you.”

Sebastian raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. “Shake me.”

“Yes.”

His smirk widened. “Like, out of frustration or—?”

“Sort of!” you blurted, hands twitching as you tried to explain the feral energy currently buzzing in your veins. “You’re just—you! And sometimes you look so stupidly handsome and do little things like chew on your quill and sit there all Sebastian-y, and it makes me want to—”

“What?” He was grinning now, utterly charmed despite himself.

You struggled for the right words before blurting, “Bite you!”

Sebastian’s expression instantly shattered into disbelief. “I’m sorry—what?!”

“Not hard!” you added quickly, waving your hands as if that somehow made it less unhinged. “Just—like, a little chomp! Affectionate!”

Sebastian gawked at you, floundering for a response. “You—you want to bite me because you love me?”

You swallowed, fighting the heat creeping up your neck, and doubled down. “Yes!"

Sebastian just ran a hand down his face, as if trying to process how this was his life.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.”

“Both.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh, slouching dramatically against the couch, as if this was the greatest burden he had ever borne. You, however, were still buzzing with too much feeling, and now that the topic had been breached, your hands were itching to do something about it.

So you lunged.

Sebastian barely had time to react before your hands were on his face, squishing his cheeks together.

“You’re so cute and it infuriates me,” you growled, mushing his cheeks even more.

Sebastian made a muffled sound of protest, eyes widening in mock betrayal. “Hey!”

“This is your fault,” you declared, now aggressively ruffling his curls.

Sebastian finally wrestled your hands away and pinned them to the couch, breathless as he glared at you with flushed cheeks. “You menace!"

“You deserve this.” You were grinning, utterly delighted by his suffering.

Sebastian laughed, dropping his forehead dramatically against your shoulder. “Why am I in love with someone so insane?”

You beamed. “I don’t know but it’s too late now.”

Sebastian groaned, flopping back onto the couch with the resignation of a man who had lost every battle but still somehow won the war.

He sighed, eyes slipping closed as he let himself relax. You, now thoroughly satisfied, settled beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

And as he absentmindedly reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, Sebastian thought, at least she loves me.

Even if you did want to bite him.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[wonryllis]

✴ ONE OF YOUR GIRLS TONIGHT.

❛ 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

FEATURING. sim jaeyun & fem!r GENRE. smut! they are fuck buddies and jake is sort of a fuckboy, dom!jake, obsessed but no commitment WDCT. 700 SONG��──oftg

WARNINGS. SMUT PG18 ofc, choking, nipple play, unprotected sex, clit rubbing, rough sex, illusions to multiple rounds, brief dirty talk, bit of manhandling yeah. ( D𝒾RECTORY? )

jake sim’s favorite— you took pride in it. his little cum dump, the only one he fucked raw, the only one whose name he moaned out loud when he came— so much pride, you were blind to all the ways it was so wrong.

“fuck take it just like that,” jake grunts, the sound of skin slapping and your cum mixing with his in filthy squelches echoing in your ears in a numb ringing.

his hands grip your throat tight enough to keep you in place as he pistons in and out, fast and hard. forehead against yours, mouth fallen open in quick pants and dirty praises. his eyes narrow, brows furrowing while looking straight into your pretty brown orbs,“keep your eyes on me,” he grunts again, feeling his climax creeping up on him.

“you're always so tight, so warm— fuck oh god, makes me wanna fuck you till i physically can't anymore,” his words waver, tone going down as he struggles to hang onto to the edge.

“my pretty little slut,” one of his hands leave your throat, trailing down to fondle with your nipples. your evening gown torn on the side from the sheer force he used when he had pushed it down to pull out your breasts. as always. he just never seemed to have any kind of patience when he needed his cock to be inside you.

asking you to be his date for a charity gala, buying you the perfect dress and a matching lingerie set to go with it. touching you shamelessly the entire night before ripping it all off and pounding your brains out at his penthouse later. sometimes only lasting till you get inside his car— the need to have you so strong, he can't help but have to watch you cum at least once, either on his fingers, his mouth or if he's too worked up: on his cock, before he can even think of of driving off.

jake's fingers are rough as they touch you, shivers running down your body at his squeezes. jolting and jerking when he slips them over your clit, rubbing harshly. desperate to make you cum with him. the hand still on your throat moving to grab your jaw, squishing your cheeks together.

the way your face srunches up with pleasure, he can't take it anymore. overflowing with the urge to stuff you with his cock so deep you can't think of anything but how good he fucks you.

and so he does exactly that, grabbing your waist and throwing you onto the bed with your back against the mattress. slipping his cock into you in one brutal thrust and then pushing and holding your legs up over his shoulders by the back of your knees. it felt insanely hot and heavenly, the way you clenched again and again, gripping him so hard; he succumbed.

“shit shit shit— i’m cumming— fuck—” jake’s hips buck forward in jerks as he cums, his head thrown back while he groans and curses at every hot spurt of cum hitting against your walls.

he grabs your thighs in a bruising hold as soon as his high starts to eeb away, hammering into you at a pace that feels borderline hurtful,“can't ever get enough of you—” thrust. “it's fucking impossible—” thrust. “even if you milk me dry,” thrust. fucking you through your third orgasm of the night with no intentions of stopping any time soon.

imagining you everytime he is down with another girl, moaning your name and picturing your face when he cums in them. it would be an understatement to say you are his favorite.

jake is obsessed— addicted, to you, your pussy and to fucking you raw but he just can't commit. that's not him. it has always been so wrong but it felt so good.. neither of you could think of giving up this twisted relationship.

choke you and fuck you till you pass out. use you till his heart's content and fill you up to the brim. pepper your face with kisses and your neck with hickeys. and then disappear the next morning— out of reach until he needs you again. this was his kind of love.

taglist . . open ! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp @laylasbunbunny @riribelle @ancnymcnzjy

[wonallofme]

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

[keferon]

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

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[solifloris]

≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 (?) 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑨𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒙

──  mdni sexual content. inclusive of: vaginal sex, slight pet name usage, shower sex, getting caught, sex as a stress reliever. but overall this is a lot of fun LMAO

the truth, is that caleb would always be willing to experiment.

he's had so much pent up for you, that you'll frequently find he has something in new in mind to try out with you—or, in short, he liked to find new ways to have his way with you. so it wouldn't surprise you that eventually, you'd have your hands pressed against the glass, your head tilting back to meet his kisses. of course, it would feel good, like it always did. his cock would fill you so well, and taking it from behind made you feel everything so much more deeply. it would be oh so asy for both of you to get lost in the pleasure, droplets from the shower, running down your back, the rush of water doing nothing to drown out your moans.

... but shower sex is never just rainbows and butterflies, and sometimes, being fucked silly allows all sense of rationality to go down the drain.

it's quick, when it happens—caleb accidentally knocks down the bar of soap, and the already-running water makes things progressively worse. you gasp, wide-eyed, as you slip, and caleb seems just as surprised as you. perhaps, his reflexes did him no favors in the moment, as his attempts to catch you only have him slipping on the very same trail of soap you'd also slipped on.

the both of you remain on the shower floor with agonizing pain, and perhaps you look more like a drenched, unsatisfied cat than anything else.

"shit—fuck—m'sorry, pipsqueak..."

"...we should just stick to the bedroom next time."

sex with rafayel is always so intoxicating.

he'd have himself buried inside of you in a way that just feels so right, so perfect, that you would always find yourself lost in the moment. whether he goes slow, or fast, or even if he lets you take charge, the result is the same—you could only ever focus on him, him, him. perhaps, it was intentional on his part, but you liked it that way. he made you feel good.

except sometimes, rafayel was too much of an airhead that your distraction wouldn't always end well... such as one particular morning, where he had you pressed against his couch, fucking you as well as he always did, and the sound of footsteps barely registered in either of your ears.

"rafayel, why aren't you answering my calls? i told you, this is an important deal, and—holy fucking shit! are you insane?!!"

rafayel never quite bothered to lock the door, and though you knew this and tried often to get him to do it, there were still times that he would... forget.

such as right then.

in that moment, you would yelp, hitting at his chest, barely having the strength to push him off of you as he hastily throws a nearby blanket over the two of you instead.

and thomas would storm away, eyes shut tightly.

"god! lock the door, rafayel, seriously! just—just finish whatever you're doing and call me back!"

"yeah, yeah. bye, now!"

"...rafa?! never let that happen again!"

in the years you've spent together, you had come to the conclusion that xavier liked to relieve his tension in very specific ways.

you didn't mind it, of course; in fact, you enjoyed it. it's become an established part of your week, him pressing you against the door in as soon as you get home from a particularly tiring mission, soft kisses gradually turning more heated and passionate as he leads you into the bedroom. these moments were some of the only times he'd allow himself to be more selfish with his desires for you, and with no surprise, you'd find yourself looking forward to it—expecting it.

but on one particular night, you find him to be less... dominant, than he usually would be with you in these moments, almost passive. but his hands still roam your body, brushing against all the sensitive spots he's memorized like the back of his hand, still kissing you in a way that would make you melt—so you don't question it immediately. perhaps, you think, he wanted you to take the lead this time.

except, you reach down, and he's...

...not hard at all.

even as you rub against him, as his lips place soft kisses on your neck—

there's no reaction.

he looks up feebly and then you find the telltale traces of exhaustion on his face, the tips of his ears pink with embarrassment. his eyes are nearly drooping closed.

"sorry, angel, i'm too.... i think... i think i just really want to sleep right now, after all..."

"...oh..."

over the course of the past couple of weeks, you'd found that zayne's adorable affection for cats had gotten the better of him.

the calico cat you'd often see roaming his street would now prance happily around his house, feeling almost more at home than zayne himself—surely, at least, that it was certainly home more often than him. you found it adorable, and sweet, and you loved it, you really did!

but...

your more passionate nights with zayne would be rare enough as it is considering his busy schedule, and it was unfortunate that you now hard a rather... entitled audience.

he would by thrusting into you so nicely, so deeply, your legs hooked over his shoulder as he leaned in to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. often, your eyes would be closed as you took in every bit of pleasure he would give to you, fully focused on the feeling of his cock stretching your walls the way you so desperately needed.

...only now, when you open your eyes, you find that a certain ball of fluff had casually walked over to lay on zayne's back.

your eyes lock, and it's almost as if the moment is completely lost.

zayne would stop thrusting, noticing your change in mood, and then he'd recognize the weight on his back.

"...sorry, sweetheart... should i—"

"....it's staring."

"..."

"zayne, maybe... we should do this at my place next time..."

⁺₊ / an: light moments to start the day!!! 💖 it was super hard to choose what exactly to write because there's a lot of awkwardness that goes into sex, but i hope this was a fun little read~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[teapartyprincess4two]

omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.

☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”

☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.

☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.

☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”

☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.

☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”

☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.

☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”

☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.

☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.

☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.

☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.

☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.

☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.

☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.

☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.

☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”

☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”

☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.

☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.

☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”

☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.

☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.

☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.

☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.

☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.

☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”

☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.

☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.

☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.

☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.

☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.

☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.

☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.

☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.

☆ NSFW

☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.

☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.

☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.

☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”

☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.

☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.

☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”

☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.

☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.

☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”

☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.

☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.

☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.

☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)

Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!

Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋

Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[fanfiction4sooya]

Could I please request Phone sex w/ Ning Ning while she’s away on tour. Thank you

Took me long enough, but here I come!! Thank you for your patience and the request, love 💖 hope y'all like it.

cw: masturbation, sex over the phone, dirty talking, humping, etc. not really proofread.

Ning felt the addrenaline rush as she left the stage, her heart beating fast inside her ribcage; Her idol life was amazing but sometimes she missed you next to her whenever she felt like that. Sometimes she wanted you with her, your eyes watching every step she took and every move she made on stage.

God, that world tour was killing her.

Two weeks without seeing you due to your work schedule and her constant travelling. Some might say two weeks is nothing, but not ning; Not to you either, but you were very controlled, contrary to your girlfriend.

She quickly got to her hotel room, denying any invitation for dinner with the girls saying she needed to rest because of a headache. She giggled, looking at the time on her phone, knowing very well she would wake you. Good. She loved your sleepy voice.

She called. Your phone rang three times as her back hit the mattress, her skirt rolled up. On the fourth time you picked it up.

"Hey, sleepy head" She said, not loud and clear like she would usually do, but a bit more contained. "Hi, baby" You answered, yawning. "is it everyhting okay?" You looked at the time. "You don't usually call me this late"

"Oh yeah..." She said, lowering her free hand to her wet panties to lightly circle her clit. "I just missed you so much today at the concert, baby" She breathed out.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there, ning" You said and she held her breath as she felt herself clench around nothing, really wishing your fingers were the ones inside her.

She pushed her panties to the side, a low whimper reaching you when one of her fingers slipped through her folds.

"Ning what..."

"Keep talking baby" She said, her tone getting more and more obscene. "I wanna hear your voice - shit" She reached deeper inside of her and you could hear the wet sound on the other side of the line, furiously blushing as you thought about her doing such thing to the sound of your voice.

You felt heat pool in the pit of your stomach.

"Why didn't you call me on video, baby?" You said a bit out of breath as you placed a pillow in between your legs, pouting a bit. "I wanna see you" You whined and you heard her moan louder, you always knew she was keen to your whining.

"Oh you wanna see me, princess?" She sped up her pace, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear to rub her swollen clit with the other hand. "Would you like to see my fingers stretching me while I think of you?" She said.

"Yes, please" You closed you eyes, pressing your already soaked pussy to the pillow harder to rub it better.

"I like the sound of your voice baby, I like how desperate you get when your need to see me grows inside of you" Ning added another finger inside of her. "Fuck I'm so wet baby" She breathed out, followed by a lot of curses falling from her lips.

"Ning" You closed your eyes, hips stuttering against the soft fabric of the pillow.

"Fuck baby, are you touching yourself too?" She whined, closing her eyes so she could imagine you doing just that.

"Hmm" You huffed, hips moving freely to grind on it.

"Oh my good girl" Ning said fucking herself harder, her mind going crazy as your lewd sounds reached her ears.

"I miss you so much, ning" you cried out, your clit pulsing inside your wet sleeping shorts as hers throbbed under her digits. She was furiously rubbing it now. "I miss your hands on my body, please come home"

Your whines were getting the chinese woman insane, her own arousal dripping down her center to the mattres, the sounds she were making getting louder with each trust of her fingers to her own core.

"I wish I was there, baby" She said, trying hard to hold her impending orgasm but it was nearly impossible with you moaning so beautifully for her. "Fu-fuck" She closed her eyes, her legs shaking uncontrollably when her orgasm hit her like a bullet.

"Ning, oh god" You squeezed the pillow harder against the mattress, hips stuttering as your hard clit pulsed against the soft fabric and you smeared your arousal all over it too as it leaked through your shorts. "I need you inside me, fuck"

You said and she clenched around her fingers, riding down her climax, eyes squeezed shut.

"I came so hard baby, jesus" Ning said a bit out of breath. "I bet you look so pretty, honey" Her attention was now all yours. "How are you trying to get off, pretty girl?" Her voice sounded smooth, not at all that breathless mess of less than a minute ago.

"Y-your pillow" You sobbed.

"My pillow, baby?" She said with a predatory tone. "Why not yours? Hm?"

"F-Fuck" You said, still rutting against it. "Yours smells like you and I- I miss you so fucking much" You felt your pussy clench and that knot in your stomach tightens considerably. "Ning, baby... please" You cried out.

Of course, knowing your girlfriend just like you did, she'd love to hear you begging for her to let you cum (and honestly, so did you).

"You sound so good when you beg, baby..." She hushed, a wave of arousal crashing through her again. "Cum for me, princess" She said. "Imagine you are rutting all over my face, how about that?" She said and that was your last straw.

Your hips took off as hard as you could, your moans filling the empty room and bouncing on the walls, echoing on your ears and hers. You started saying nonsense after nonsense, never stopping to think you were basically screaming for your neighbors to hear as well.

"I'm cumming ning, fuck I'm cumming" You babbled, your climax hitting you hard and making your ears ring.

You stopped moving, your labored breath reaching ningning's ears like the most beautiful music in the world, she was grinning like and idiot as you tried your best to gain composure.

"How are you feeling, love?" She said.

"I'm feeling like I'm on cloud nine..." Pulling the pillow from between your legs you winced, even the slightest move getting you overstimulated. "But I still wish you were here" You said, pouting and your heard another moan. "Ning?"

"I'll turn on a video call, baby" It was the only thing she said and you immediately pulled the phone from your ear to your eye level. "Now I want you to watch me" She positioned her phone lower, filming herself playing with her pussy lips.

"Ningie" You mewled, mouth watering at the sight. You wanted to cry because of that infernal distance.

Her abused pussy was glistening and red, her clit engorged in the way you enjoyed sucking so much. She dipped a finger inside herself and you heard her hiss.

When you were about to say something else you heard a knock on her door and she quickly lowered her skirt.

"Ning! I decided to head back too, got you some food" Jimin said. "Why are you looking so red?" Karina eyed ningning up and down from the other side of the room.

"Nothing unnie, I was just telling my beautiful girlfriend how much I've missed her while I was on stage" She smiled, showing you on the phone and Jimin waved at you to say hi.

"Well alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds at it. Please don't make too many sounds" She said, leaving the room.

"Unnie!" Ning screamed, pretending to be ultraged by that.

You two laughed it off, soon the room falling silent as you two stared at each other.

"I miss you" You said in a hushed tone as if it was a secret and she smiled.

"So do I, baby" You devishly bit your lip, lowering your phone to show her the wet patch on your sleeping shorts.

"I think I miss you more..." She gasped, swallowing thickly right after.

"I'm buying your plane tickets right at this moment"

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: lee jeno x reader x na jaemin

warnings: everyone here is a freak, recording of sexual activities, unprotected sex, blowjobs, backshots

jeno and jaemin love sluts. absolutely fucking loooovveee sluts. especially the dumb ones, the slutty bimbos that don’t know anything but dick.

when jeno showed up wearing an “i ❤️ sluts” shirt to a hangout with the guys, jaemin got a matching “i ❤️ sluts more” shirt to wear with him.

and when you strutted in front of them so obliviously, wearing the shortest pink plaid mini skirt they’d ever seen with a glorified little crop top (it was really just a little piece of tight fabric stretched over your tits) that had your red lacy bra peeking through, they knew they had to have you.

they gave each other a silent look of communication as you had your back turned and played 3 rounds of rock paper scissors without saying a word. jeno won best 2 out of 3, making jaemin curse and punch the air. jeno smirked and walked over to you, pressing a hand to the small of your back and whispering lowly into your ear.

“hey, sweet cheeks. haven’t seen you around here before,” he flirted.

you turned to face whomever had just put his hands on you, feeling hot in the face when you saw that it was one of sexiest men you had ever seen. “uh-“ you rubbed your legs together, which jeno did not miss.

“name’s jeno. what’s your name, baby?” his face was so close to yours that you could count the eyelashes on his eyes.

“y-y/n,” you stuttered. “what are you-“

he shushed you. “y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime, hm?”

he was giving you backshots later that night, recording himself clapping your cheeks on snapchat to send to jaemin. you had fat tears streaming down your face, leaving a trail of messy black mascara. the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and wet squelching filled the room, along with repetitive creaks of the bed and your loud sobs of pleasure.

“f-fuck!! jeno please harder! more more more!” you cried out, gripping the sheets of his bed tightly with balled up fists. his hips were pounding into you at such a fast and deep rate, heaving balls slapping against your clit, leaving your mind a fuzzy and jumbled mess.

jeno held your squirming hips flush to his body using his insane strength. “fucking slut. you like that huh?” he gave a particularly hard thrust that had him bottoming out inside your cunt. “you like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, huh?”

you were too fucked out to give a response. your drooling cunt leaked and spasmed around jeno’s insanely thick and veiny cock, causing him to groan and smack your ass.

all these videos jeno sent to jaemin had him feeling major fomo. he knew you were a fucking slut that gave it up easy, so you wouldn’t mind taking one more cock tonight, huh?

he let himself into jeno’s apartment, stripped himself of all his clothes, and entered jeno’s bedroom unannounced. he stroked his hard cock at the lewd sight of jeno fucking you like a madman from behind, while you were left sobbing and could barely keep your eyes open. jeno was the first to notice the uninvited visitor and smirked at him.

“got tired of seeing it through the screen and wanted a taste of the real thing huh?” jeno leaned over and grabbed your face to make you look at his best friend. “y/n this is jaemin, my best friend. you wanna show him how good this pussy is?”

you were too fucked out to even register what was going on, why there was some stranger watching as you were getting your back blown out and wanting to join in. so you just nodded your head dumbly and let jeno’s thrusts take over your mind and body.

“god she’s such a slut. okay with anything as long as she gets cock, huh?” jaemin groaned, tilting his head back and giving his cock a few hard pumps before crawling on the bed.

he positioned himself right in front of your mouth, which was hanging open dumbly from how hard you were getting fucked from behind.

“open wide, sweetheart,” he smacked your face with his cock a few times before rubbing the tip on your lips. “i’ve already missed out on so much of the fun.”

yeah, jeno and jaemin love sluts and you were their new favorite toy to play with.

[boyfiejay]

I love my girlfriend

PAIRING : Enhypen hyung line x female Youtuber! Reader

GENRE : fluff, bullet point

Warning : curse words, me rizzing up the reader😔

Word Count : 0.9k overall

Author's Note : this was long overdue☝🏻

Heeseung ☆

you're one of those underrated artists, that are underrated due to one sole reason

it's better to gatekeep a talented artist

yk the way some fans get sad that their favourites are now on everyone's fyp

yeah your fandom in a nutshell

they also thirst over you non stop

I mean you are stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, enchanting

just date me pookie

you used to be a youtuber before the music career fyi

imagine your fans' dilemma (dimension?) when you say out of nowhere that you have a bf

‘guys, my boyfriend sent me this :D’

and it's a silly picture of two cats or smtg

like your fans are fighting a fucking war on twt

and you are like cuddling with hee, listening to unreleased songs

you have no clue of what's going on

meanwhile heeseung…

he's ready to fight the war

posts a picture of you kissing his cheek on your insta story

he makes sure that only 1/4th of his face is visible

to keep his identity anonymous yk

…

your fans find his acc in 15 mins

he panics definitely 😭

tells you his innuendo after you wake up

and you're just like

‘yeah ok, sure’

WHY ARE YOU SO CHILL??

your boyfriend is getting deep fried on twt and you're like ‘el oh el’

dw your fans mean no harm

after a while they're like

‘they're cute tgt ig 😒’

Jay ☆

you're like a cooking channel

STAY W ME IK IT SOUNDS BASIC

you're like a blogger who blew up one day

because you're just soso pretty😻

alright anyways, your channel is focused around learning to cook

it's so chaotic sometimes

bcz you don't know shit about cooking

sorry if you do, let's pretend you don't >.<!!

you have almost killed yourself a dozen times

at some point people are like

‘??? how is she alive’

all thanks to your almost professional chef boyfriend

but no one has to know that ;)

anyways on like a milestone or something, you decide to cook blindfolded

bae you can barely cook with eyes open

your followers are concerned bro

like their blood pressure is rising by the minute

and like a holy light in the midst of the darkness

Jay stepped in, to save you from killing yourself fr this time

Your fans are seriously jumping around, squealing bcz he's just so soft and gentle to you :(((

but then they snap out and pretend to be angry

and you're like ‘meet my boyfie :3’

jk your fans love you two

like almost obsessed

also they're always sliding in Jay's dms

like I get it mans fine af but he's also taken

and also absolutely whipped for you 🤭

it's your world and we're just living in it…

Jake ☆

you are a gamer/streamer

your whole fan base is delusional

like so delusional, there are like hundreds and thousands of accounts claiming to be your bf/gf

but the iconic one ‘ynsboyfie’ is everywhere

like that acc is the most iconic thing in your lore

they are always there, no news of yours goes past them

always donating in your streams

and one day…

you forget to log in your priv acc

so your official acc has the comment

‘babe, you're so sweet ☹️🩷’

replying to ‘YNSBOYFIE’

???

oh your fans are livid

jokingly ofc

or maybe not

everyone on twt is like

‘who is this bitch???’

everyone hoping for his downfall

then you drop his pic

THE SWITCH UP IS INSANE

‘oh, oh, he's fiiine😏’

like I can't blame them, that's jake

but still they're supposed to be your fans

fucking snitches

my bae, pookum shmookum I would never

your fans love him

but also bully him calling him a lewser

hes so down bad he had a fan page for you

i dont blame him, i too would fangirl over you 😼

Sunghoon ☆

you're like a fitness channel

like those ones that have insane challenges

and your famous in people who have no interest in working out too

your face reveal went so viral, almost every single person knew your face

also your workouts (even tho deadly) always work so fast

people are in love with your figure and just you in general

you also upload mini vlogs once in a while

in these vlogs people noticed someone always being around you and in the back of the frame

at first they were like

‘obsessed fan😨’

but then they saw you laughing along with him in another clip

from the small clips, people couldn't see his face (bcz it's blurred) but omg the figure

the biceps, the buff and tall guy immediately steals everyone hearts

it's obvious from the clips that you're close with him

so naturally you are asked who he is and you just laugh

???

people are losing their minds woman

and you're just like ‘hehe’

they continue seeing him in your vlogs and in one clip you could see him putting his hands on your waist while you squat

you have no reaction to that

but twt…

he's getting dragged even though half of the people have no clue what's going on

you decide to take matter in your hands

and post this

with the caption ‘he's my boyfriend everyone :3’

the internet breaks

Sunghoon doesn't do his face reveal for a long time js bcz he doesn't feel like it yk

but when he does

good lord…

your fans love him

they also love how he glares at people who look at you the wrong way

you never notice that for some reason

[prinzrupprecht]

When someone else gives you gifts

Featuring: Tesla, Apollo, Qin, and Thor ( part 1 )

You can also read Part 2 and part 3 for more characters

CW: mostly fluff and jealousy. Yandere tendencies with some of them

Tesla

He came home from a long day of work expecting you to be asleep but he noticed you on the couch reading a book. “Why are you awake? You didn’t have to wait for me.” He was right, it was nearly midnight while you waited for him.

He was very into his research and his passion for science sometimes made you question your insanity as to why you fell for this man if science was more important than you— his partner.

“Oh, I did? I guess I was too into this book. Also, thanks for the flowers hun.” You walked over to him and raised your toes to kiss him on his nose. He looked at you with confusion. Flowers? He didn’t get you flowers.

“Flowers? I didn’t get you any,” he felt bad when he saw the large bouquet on the table. Did someone give these to you? An unknown feeling formed in his chest.

Quickly he walked over to it and grabbed them tossing them in the trash. “Hey! Why did you do that?!” You shouted angrily but he stopped you from taking them out of the trash.

“We’ll plant a whole garden of roses, besides…” he grabbed your waist.

“I prefer if other men didn’t give you such things when I am the only one that has that privilege,” he kept you close while your heart was racing in your chest. A whole garden? You liked the sound of that instead.

Apollo

He noticed it right away. The new necklace that you were wearing. “This is new.” He lifted the chain up with one finger, but he knew it was a stupid question. You most likely found it in the pile of jewelry he has given you over the years.

You were dumbfounded at first and looked down at the necklace. “One of your followers… he— he gave it to me as a gift,” you stuttered. There was a long pause between you two before he clipped the necklace off.

Apollo didn’t like the idea of another giving you luxury things. He was trying to keep calm but he laughed while holding the necklace in between a few of his fingers while holding it up over his head.

“A cheap thing like this? I could give you anything you want," Apollo pulled you closer to him with his arms tugging around your small body. You knew you were trapped with him and he wouldn’t let go. Was he afraid that someone would steal you away from him? Nobody could steal you away from him. More so you used to be jealous of his herd of women and used to ignore him. He took more interest in you than the other way around in the beginning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I— I won’t accept any more gifts from your followers.” Apollo liked hearing that as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

With you being his only beloved, he would be the only one to give you things. Was he jealous? He wouldn’t admit if he was. He believed that jealousy was a disgusting trait and nothing beautiful about it.

With you in his arms, he deeply sighed dramatically. “Now my dear, go put on something nice that was from me this time.” his lips were near your ears as his breath tickled down your spine. Without any hesitation, you nodded happily to your beloved before retreating to go back to your shared room.

Qin Shi Huang

You knew Qin as a child because of your affiliation with Chun Yan who introduced you two. You were treated like a daughter to her but she wasn’t your biological mother. You treated Ying as everyone else and not some creepy kid that everyone thought he was. Over time this made him fall for you and ask you to stay with him even after Chun Yan died.

Fast forward to the present as Qin Shi Huang— also known as Ying Zheng became king as he promised to Chun Yan. You still were by his side even when other nobles offered their daughters to him as concubines or an arranged marriage, he dismissed them all. Normally jealousy filled you and you thought there was no chance for a commoner like you could be his empress.

As you wandered the halls of his palace, you ran into one of the young maids who told you she had something for you. It was a very fine patterned robe that only nobles were granted to wear. “I can’t wear this, it’s forbidden for someone like me to—” she cut you off by telling you that it was fine and Qin said so. Qin?! Were you going to believe her? Did she have some ulterior motive? You reluctantly tried it on. It was dark red with flowers on it. The maid wasn’t around which was odd. Your former clothes were gone as well. Huh?!

You found the main hall looking for your room to possibly change, but Qin noticed you even with his blindfold on. Thank god he can’t see you with the noble robe on, right? “There you are, you had me worried for a minute.” He grabbed your arm but that was a mistake. He felt the expensive silk of the robe. The sleeves were long so of course he knew what kind of material you were wearing.

“Oh? It’s not like you to be wearing such a thing.” He chuckled before a smile appeared on his lips. He wasn’t mad?!

“Your maid told me to wear it and said that you were fine with it, but she left and took my clothes…” you frowned but Qin was more upset that someone was trying to get you in trouble. He could never get mad at you. You were too pure and kind. You had accepted him for who he is and stood by his side.

“Now tell me who it was, I’ll make sure she’ll get punished later.” You wanted to object but you can’t because he was your king. You nodded and felt bad that the maid would most likely lose her job. He still held onto you even though you were shaking a bit. He told you to wear more of those robes since they look good on you. Even just hearing him say that brought a bubbly feeling in your heart.

Thor

You were again stuck inside the Asgard palace bored again… The entire city was nearly destroyed by titans and many civilians were rebuilding their homes and businesses. You looked out of the window and spotted Forseti talking to a few of the officials. You loathed the man, he didn’t do anything during the invasion and only worried about Thor.

A knock was heard from your room, you had expected that Thor had returned but then you remembered he doesn’t knock. You grumbled a lowly come in and of course, Loki was at the door looking smug than ever. “The hell do you want?” You frowned, why would you ever be so hopeful that Thor would free his time up for you? You two weren’t even married either but acted like it. Odin had tried to forbid any relationship between you two, but Thor didn’t obey that order.

“Why so snarky? I just wanted to come to check up on my future sis-in-law,” he mocks that last part since the marriage thing was off the table. You didn’t say anything. Was he here to try to make you angry?

He quickly changed the subject and pulled out a small doll he made. “I made this, it does look like you, right? Here take it,” he put it next to you. It sort of creeped you out but you kept quiet. Were you terrified? Maybe.

“Why are you making voodoo dolls?” You detested the plushie and hoped Thor would come back sooner.

“Who said it was for that kind of sorcery? It’s just a gift! I swear!” Loki was faking his emotions while you quietly mumbled ‘whatever’ and reluctantly accepted it while holding the doll as he took his leave. What a weird guy…

Hours had passed by as you fell asleep on the couch but you had awoken to someone moving you. “You’re back?” You looked up to see Thor holding you with both of his arms. His expression wasn’t calm like usual. He seemed irritated. Did something happen?

“Mhm…” he was quiet but you saw how different his expressions were than usual.

“He came here when I was gone,” he grabbed the doll that was next to you squeezing it so hard that the head of the doll popped off. How his cousin was gifting you such things. Creepy things. Thor wanted to beat sense to him but held back his anger.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what he would do if I rejected it.” You frowned but Thor's left hand touched your cheek as you stared up at him. He genuinely smiled.

“He won’t hurt you… I’ll make sure of it.” The reassurance you wanted the most as you buried your face in his chest. You just wanted his comfort and nothing else.

Note: no eta when part 2 will come but if I do another it’ll probably be Susano’o, Buddha, Loki and Anubis. Edit: I forgot about Poseidon. So probably 5 characters for part 2.

[fungateshortcakes]

omg… my brain… it’s too HORNY…

bc i just read ur pegging logan fic and my first thought was “omg how would he feel ab a ribbed/bad dragon dildo” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

u do not have to write anything for this if u don’t wanna i just need someone to hear me out on this 👀 bc i know he’d whimper every time one of the little bumps hits a good spot in him 😫😫 AUGH IM GOING INSANE IN THE MEMBRANE

YEEEEESSS I'VE BEEN SAYING THIS OFC I WILL WRITE SOMETHING

call me insane but I just spent the last hour browsing through the bad dragon website to look for some XL dildos Logan would go for because they are extra textured

So here is a short list of bad dragon toys I found if anyone wants to search up what they look like before we start with the real fun part

Slater the stone wyvern (extra large)

Reggie the mothman (extra large)

Flint the uncut studded dragon (extra large)

Abyss the Kaiju King (extra large)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

So, we can all agree that Logan likes his toys big. Like extra extra large. Of course he started out smaller but with time, he managed to take bigger and bigger toys, larger in length and thicker in girth. It would be a great accomplishment for him if he was able to sink down just a bit further every time he tried out a new and bigger toy.

Doing this was one of his greatest pleasures. After an especially hard mission he was longing to unwind with a fat cock stretching him open. He loves it so much, he is such a slut for monster cock. Sometimes you'd arrive a bit late to your shared bedroom and find Logan on your bed, three fingers plunged into his sopping hole as he eagerly prepped himself. His fingers weren't enough, never enough. They couldn't sooth that ache deep within him, the primal need to be full and stretched and stuffed. He let out a sigh of relief the second a girthy, phat dick would slip right past his tight ring of muscle and settle deep in his tummy until there was a bulge there. He just sobs out in ecstasy and lets himself completely surrender to the pleasure rocking his body with every thrust.

You will know when the bumps hit these sensitive spots inside him because he will arch his back, the curve of his spine perfectly visible as he starts to beg. "Fuck....mhmnn yes, right there. Right there please, keep going"

The schlickschlickschlick sound that could be heard every time his hole gripped the bumps and ridges on the toy tight when it was pulled out made him shiver. The dildo was nicely glistening with fake cum lube, spit and his arousal. Your eyes were trained on where the silicone cock disappeared inside of him and the way his hole fitted over the textured surface.

"You get fucked like this every damn day like the insatable bitch you are until you're gaping. And you're still so tight every time"

Logan loveslovesloves textured dildos so much. Not that he doesn't use the smooth ones at all, it depends in what mood he is in. But most of the time he wants to feel the bumps, ridges, lines and dents against his aching walls and feel every slight texture fucking him open and abusing his sweet spot. You knew exactly which angle you needed to fuck him to hit his arousal swollen prostate with precision.

"Mmm,yeah fuck, milk me dry" he mewls out, his cock throbbing lewdly against the bulge on his tummy, leaking all over the sheets. He gets so cute and whiny like this. He makes sounds no one would think were possible coming from him. His face is flushed and squished against the pillows, tears staining his cheeks, his eyes rolling back. Spit in his mouth please.

He wants you to keep fucking him even after he came multiple times because it's just that good.

When you aren't there to fuck him for whatever reason, he gets so needy. Of course he can ride the toys but that's just not the same as you pounding him from behind and slut shaming him. And his legs gave out pretty fast. So the fucking machine you bought him was the best present ever. When you were gone, he could still get fucked by any monster cock he desired and for as long as he wanted. It still didn't come close to you but it was good enough.

Sometimes you used the fucking machine even though you were here, controlling the speed and roughness of the thrusts to drive him mad.

[thegoldencontracts]

(Not) A Stand-Up Guy

Summary: Your boyfriend is being insulted. Naturally, you defend him. Problem is... That's kind of hard.

Characters: Azul, Jade

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a peaceful day as you passed through the hallways to run a quick errand; delivering papers to Professor Crewel. The halls were almost completely deserted, every little sound echoing through the walls.

And one of those sounds was the sound of people insulting your boyfriend.

"Ugh," said some guy. "The damn crook. Can't believe people like him can be housewarden."

"We should beat him up." Silence. "I-I'm joking," said the other guy hastily. "Obviously, I know that wouldn't work with those goons of his. He's still annoying, though."

"His voice pisses me off."

"His voice?" Said another guy incredulously. "What about the fact that he's a terrible person?"

A terrible person was definitely an overstatement. Though he definitely had his flaws, Azul wasn't Satan incarnate or anything Iike that.

And- now that you thought about it, didn't these guys cheat off you during Alchemy? What were they doing insulting you boyfriend when they knew you could hear them? Didn't they have an ounce of respect?

...Or did they just think you were a pushover?

You were beginning to feel offended on your own behalf, too.

"Hey!" You said, turning to face them, closing the gap between you and the group of miscreants. "Don't talk about my boyfriend like that!"

"We're right," said one of the guys nonchalantly. You paused for a second.

He was a crook, and he did intentionally get on people's nerves. Curses.

"Uh, well-" You raised a finger to try and prove your point, except there was no point to prove. "He has a very lovely voice!"

"That he sweetens up to get on people's nerves," said a guy. He was right.

You paused for a second. They were right, weren't they?

No, no. You weren't going to let this slide.

"Still," you said, steeling yourself. Your voice instantly turned stony.

"Let's face it: Night Raven's a school of schemers. You're all probably up to no good yourself. Azul isn't particularly worse than any of you, nor is he the morally irredeemable prat you seem to think he is. He's insanely hardworking, and probably more talented than you could ever be, considering how often you all try to pull a fast one and look at my answers during tests."

You paused for a long breath, taking in their shock at your words—and the fact you knew about them cheating off of you.

"So," you continued. "If you're going to use me to cheat or whatever, at least don't talk shit about my boyfriend when I can clearly hear you."

That promptly shut them up.

"Sorry, sorry," one of them said. "So... You won't tell Professor Crewel about... Uh...?"

You beamed.

"We're all good!" You said, switching up your tone immediately. You had gotten what you wanted.

The guy sighed.

"T-Thanks," he said, not really caring about Azul so long as he could keept cheating off of you during Alchemy.

"No problem!"

You beamed, off on your merry way. And, afterwards, you bumped into none other than your darling himself, Azul.

"I saw your little skirmish earlier today," he said with a grin. You laughed.

"I'd stick up for you again," you said. He smiled. "Even if it is super hard to do."

The smile fell right off his face.

"You'd do well to cease this line of conversation."

"Nah," you said. "I think I'll keep talking about it some more. I'll talk about you being a crook, and how you talk like Squidward from SpongeBob sometimes, and-"

"Insolent cretin."

"I love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech

Getting to pick Jade's mushrooms was quite the pleasant experience. They were all so pretty, and the garden itself was so well taken care of, not to mention how much glee you felt at the thought of Jade trusting you enough to ask you to pick some of his precious mushrooms for him!

As you finished storing the last of the mushrooms—Lactarius Indigo, a really pretty one; edible too—you practically skipped back to Octavinelle. Oh, how you loved mycology. The world of fungi was really quite fascinating.

So why did everyone think they were creepy? At least, they did in this school. Seriously, mushrooms weren't just not creepy, they were awesome! Mushrooms were one of the key players in the ecosystem, a great source of food, so varied in utility it was insane, gorgeous, not to mention-

"Oh, look," some guy said." It's the creepier Leech's servant, here to collect his fucking poison mushrooms."

"Don't say that! They're supposed to be together!" Said another guy with a snicker. "They're totally equals, you guys."

Your eye twitched. You could hear them. They knew that, right?

No, no. You had to be calm about this. Move on, ignore them.

"I wonder what kinda blackmail he's got on his little servant-"

"Oh, shut up!" You said before you could stop yourself. You'd lost your temper.

One of the guys scoffed.

"Your precious little boyfriend's a creep, and you know it," he said. Another guy nodded along.

"Wasn't that there thing about him finding people's private online accounts or some shit?"

You grit your teeth. That was... True, actually. He did that, and he also messed with others for his own amusement.

Curses.

"It's just the truth," said one of the guys. You noticed the yellow band on his uniform. Savannaclaw.

You smirked.

"Were you or were you not in on it when your dorm orchestrated the mass accidents? What about the stampede on Diasomnia?"

His eyes widened.

"I- uh-"

"That's what I thought," you said. "Might want to shut it, then. You're not exactly a saint yourself."

With that, you walked off, making one last comment about how they'd never been in a healthy relationship before. Still, you couldn't help but sigh.

You hadn't actually won the argument. You just- deflected their point.

Then again, did those guys really have a point? This was Night Raven. What made the things Jade did any worse than the misdeeds of other students?

You were pulled from your lamentations by the sight of Jade Leech.

"Thank you for so bravely taking a stand on my behalf, dearest," he said with a teasing look that contained a vague trace of sincerity. How did he even get that information? Hell if you knew.

"No problem, my dear princess," you said with an entirely straight face. "On that note, your knight has brought the requested items."

You pulled out the bag of mushrooms, presenting them to him with a smirk.

"Please, accept this humble offering," you said. It was all too satisfying to catch the split second of frustration on Jade's face at you playing along. Turnabout was fair play, wasn't it?

But, of course, he had to keep playing along. It was actually pretty funny, to be honest.

"I accept, my darling knight," he said with a smirk. "Of course, I must reward you."

"And how exactly do you intend to go about doing that?"

Your question was promptly answered when he pulled you in for a kiss.

[bellyaz]

CW: Humiliation/Degradation

Your weight is out of control, like seriously.

I didn’t wanna say anything cause I know I played a part in it, but this is insane. At first, I didn’t think about it cause everyone gains weight sometimes, yknow? It’s normal. But you’ve blown up so quickly, it’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

I can admit that it all started after that treacherous group project- even though you weren’t that small back then, but whatever. I didn’t see the harm in a hotbox followed by some fast food after every session. I thought it would be a nice treat after we put in all that work.

And when the project was over our group saw it right to celebrate. So we went even bigger; edibles at the buffet. Again, I can admit that we all ate more than we could usually handle, but you? You made a spectacle of yourself. You carried two packed plates each time you got up and it sounded like you were out of breath each time you had to get up. I don’t know if you realized, but when we were leaving your shirt rode up and everybody could see your belly and the top of your ass crack. Oh, and your shirt was clinging to your belly. You even said you looked pregnant, then you started rubbing your gut like you were. We thought it was funny and a couple other people even joined in. But I digress.

Even after the project when we really became friends, we would do the same thing. Get high and eat, get drunk and eat, get cross faded and eat. I noticed you pudging up, but I thought you would bounce back like I do. But you didn’t, and I think it might be too late for that anyway.

You know what else I noticed? You have like, no more stamina. Everybody has to climb the same flight of stairs to get to my room, but you be huffing and puffing when you get here and it lasts for at least five minutes. And it’s getting worst. Like fuck, I’m only on the second floor.

I mean, we can’t even go out anymore cause when you’re always complaining about how all of your clothes are too tight. I mean they are, sometimes when you’re reaching for stuff your belly peeks out… and your shorts ride up a lot. But it’s so obvious why they don’t fit. So we end up staying in, getting faded, and ordering a bunch of food.

And I’m sorry, but going to the mall with you is so draining. I love the shopping and stuff but you start complaining about how you’re “starving” after one store and I end up in the food court waiting for you to go to two or three different restaurants. And THEN I have to sit and wait for half an hour while you shove everything down your gullet while people stare. Aren’t you embarrassed by that?

Ugh, and when we go grocery shopping? The junk you put in your cart is something to be ashamed of. I know Little Debbie HATES to see you coming. I mean, pints of the fattiest ice creams, chips, snack cakes, 2 liter sodas, chocolates, candies… Your cart is always packed but there’s never a vegetable in sight. Isn’t that concerning?

And it’s showing in your body. You have stretch marks all over your belly and love handles, your arms are puckering, you have a double chin now, and your thighs have cellulite all over them. Fuck, you jiggle with every step you take. And again, you’re out of breath all the time. When you come by me, when you get up to go to the bathroom, when you eat... I can literally hear you breathing hard right now, and you’re just sitting there.

Is this your fetish or something? No judgement. I mean, why else would you be doing this to yourself? You stuff your face then “joke” about how fat you feel, like you want me to validate your gluttony or something. You always wear these skimpy little clothes when you come over like you want me to ogle at your growing body, and you eat until you can’t move every time we stay in. And even when we would go out, you swore you couldn’t leave until you ate, which duh, you don’t wanna be out for hours with an empty stomach. So on top of being bloated from the pregame, you packed your gut with some greasy bullshit from the closest fast food place instead of something that would actually keep you full. Cause you would bitch about being hungry like hour into the functions.

So be honest. Does it get you wet? When you overeat and you’re moaning about how fast you made yourself do you soak through your panties? Are you gonna cum in your itty bitty shorts if I touch your fat ass stretched out gut? Hm? What if I pulled your shirt up and made you jump? Actually… I saw you bite your lip a little earlier. Oh my gosh, you got off to this whole conversation, didn’t you?

[gladiatorcunt]

Literally begging you to please write more Patrick Zweig x Reader fics 🥵🥵

cw: 18+ MDNI, afab reader, hints of patrick x art / patrick x reader x art, consensual and accidental somno, gross patrick, hint of breeding kink, college era ish, mention of ass play, unedited

Tired Loser Bf!Patrick who hikes one of your thighs over his, pressing up against you and sinking back into your already wet pussy. It’s so early in the morning, but sometimes he gets in a mood where he just needs to go lose himself in your cunt even if you’re not contributing. You hum and snuggle further into the silk pillowcase, relishing in the too tight grip of your plush love handles and the sloppy sounds his balls make against your ass. You hardly spend any time together due to his career rhat’s been on a bit of a decline, so you’re more than happy to be his toy if that’s what makes him feel like he’s worth anything. Like he can only find meaning in the warm walls of your pussy, and ass, on occasion.

It’s either this or quick fucks on the counter or kitchen table, both of you nearly clawing at each other in desperation to all but consume the other. Sometimes it’s softer, slow thrusts angled to perfectly hit the right spot every time as he trails open mouthed kisses along your collarbone. Patrick offers to take a shower after coming home sweaty and disgusting but you always say that you prefer him like that anyway. He whines pathetically for a kiss for you and for him from a best friend you’ve never met into your neck and pounds you harder. Your eyes flutter half open at the impact, the grunts behind you and the thick weight moving in and out of you being the only things you can comprehend.

“Glided right in, didn’t even have to finger you or anything.” He moans too loudly for sleepy sex at 5 in the monring. “Always so ready for me, just how i like you.”

“Uh! Uh huh-“

You sigh and nod into the pillow, lazily throwing your ass back on his cock as he fucks you. His pace is so fast that you’re worried he might throw his back out, it’s so frantic and desperate, like he’s trying to stab your guts and leave a permanent mark on you from the inside. You zone in on his heavy breathing, he grinds his length deeper inside and lifts one of your ass cheeks just to watch it fall and jiggle back into place. It’s almost like he’s on the court, eyes watching the ball like a hawk and giving you the most toe curling punched out sounds when he hits it. His precision and raw enthusiasm has you gasping.

The sun’s not far off from rising, so you give up on getting anymore meaningful rest and drown in the intense smell around you. Sweat, slick, old almost acidic cum from when he bred you in his sleep, take out containers from last night that haven’t been thrown away, sharp and piercing autumn air, Patrick’s horrific axe body spray, your much more pleasant cherry blossom body wash. His thrusts send you rocking up the bed, tits swaying back and forth in the mess of tangled thin sheets. Your still half concious but he fucks you like he’s been awake for hours, eyes wide and crazed and brow furrowed like he needs so much more of you than he thought. He moans two names after quick sucks to both of your nipples, one for each. Yours and that same best friend’s.

The red cap Patrick has stashed away in the nighstand collects dust like a skeleton in a closet. There are sessions where he won’t, or maybe can’t, cum unless you cry and whine for that best friend too. You don’t even know who you’re begging for another cock to steal your voice and ravage your throat, but you do it and take note of the euphoric shout that rattles all the way out of Patrick’s chest, the all too pleased sigh into the valley of your breasts. You don’t ask in the shower or in bed, the buried sadness he carries like a chain gives the impression that the abscence is not his choice. Might be a nice birthday present, a reunion.

You wake up more as he goes insane with his fucking, his arm restrains your thigh and pulls it up so high you can feel the muscle stretching. He doesn’t communicate beyond feral grunts and something primal between a growl and a whimper, making sure you can really feel his thick cock bullying your poor pussy beyond repair. You never mind, in fact some days it’s you who wakes Patrick up by bouncing on him like a cock starved slut. You like when you can’t forget what he’s done to you, when you can raise your head to admire the new necklace of bruises. It’s not like he’s never gentle with you, but you don’t feel ashamed for loving him how he is. The jagged edges and aching need to belong somewhere, to someone.

Sometimes all a relationship needs to work is for the people involved to be the same, deep down or surface level. You take whiffs of his pubes that are too deep to be normal apprection for your partner’s body and he eats his own tangy cum out of your puffy pussy like it’s God’s gift to humanity, spitting the left over jizz and additional saliva into your ass hole and slurping that up too. But in the here and now, he’s fucking you without a goal or an end in sight, heavy balls wetly kissing your lower body with no assurance of being emptied. It could be hours before Patrick lets either of you cum, like it’s one of his games that more closely resembles a heated battle to something that looks and acts like death. Evenly matched, no one being stronger than the other.

So you give him the point and drift off, messily tongue kissing him back and lulling yourself to the chaotic rhythm of his thrusts. Outside, it starts to softly rain, the ambience of the moment softening both of your hearts. You put effort in a real kiss, only for a second, whisper an ‘I love you’ and wait for a resounding ‘I love you too’ before shutting off your brain for the time being.

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER THREE

"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 — 9k

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 — when i tell you i write this so quick

masterlist

trent stirred awake to the faint sound of humming, a soft, melodic tune that drifted through the quiet hotel room. the sunlight hadn’t yet fully risen, the early morning casting a hazy, golden glow over the space. blinking groggily, he turned his head to see y/n at the small coffee table by the window, her face resting against her knee as she scribbled into a thick notebook. her hair was slightly mussed, and she was still wearing the oversized shirt she’d slept in, her bare legs tucked underneath her.

she didn’t notice him watching at first, her pen moving swiftly across the page, lips moving in rhythm with her humming. trent sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before shuffling out of bed. his footsteps were quiet against the carpet, but y/n glanced up when he got closer, her pen pausing mid-word.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. he ruffled his curls absently, his movements lazy and unguarded. there was something unpolished about him in the early hours—his half-lidded eyes, the way his t-shirt clung to his chest, wrinkled from sleep—and y/n found herself wondering if this was how he always looked first thing in the morning.

“morning,” she replied softly, her eyes flickering over him before quickly returning to her notebook. the sight of him like this stirred something in her chest, a fleeting thought of what if it’s always like this? she shook it off quickly, reminding herself that such thoughts were dangerous.

trent settled next to her on the small loveseat, his body still heavy with sleep. “usually women don’t get out of bed that fast with me,” he teased, his lips curling into a slow smirk.

“ha ha,” y/n deadpanned, her tone dry but not unkind. “i couldn’t sleep. i usually have trouble sleeping more than a few hours, so i got up to write. it makes me feel productive.”

his gaze drifted to the notebook in her lap, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes. “what are you writing?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

she quickly angled the book away from him, a playful but firm smile on her face. “it’s just fragments. little pieces.”

trent raised a brow, his attention shifting to the notebook itself. it was bursting at the seams, pages crinkled and marked with colorful tabs, some corners folded while others stuck out at odd angles. it looked well-loved, like it had been carried everywhere, filled with thoughts and ideas that couldn’t be contained.

“you wrote all of that?” he asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

“yeah,” she said with a small shrug. “not all of it’s songs. some are journal entries, random thoughts, lines that might help me draw inspiration later.”

trent leaned back slightly, taking in the sheer volume of the notebook. “that’s insane,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you walk around with all of that in your head? how do you even keep it straight?”

y/n smiled faintly, her fingers tracing the edge of the cover. “i don’t, really. that’s why i write it all down. sometimes, it’s just too much. i have so many ideas, and if i don’t let them out, i feel like i’m going to explode.”

“so why not just hire songwriters?” he asked, his voice light but his curiosity genuine. “you’re already killing yourself over all this. wouldn’t it be easier to let someone else help?”

her expression shifted, something sharp and protective flashing in her eyes. “because it feels like cheating,” she said firmly. “if i don’t write it myself, it’s not really mine. the songs, the words, they’re pieces of me. if someone else writes them, then who am i?”

trent studied her for a long moment, taking in the passion in her voice, the fire behind her words. he’d never thought much about what went into making music, but listening to her, he realized it was so much more than just melodies and lyrics. it was her, poured into every line, every note.

“that’s… mad,” he said finally, his voice quiet with something bordering on awe. “i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who feels that much about what they do.”

y/n laughed softly, her gaze dropping to her notebook. “you’re making it sound deeper than it is.”

“nah,” trent said, shaking his head. “it’s deep. i mean, i just kick a ball around for a living. what you’re doing—creating something out of nothing—that’s different. that’s art.”

his words struck something in her, a warmth spreading through her chest despite herself. she looked up at him, and for a brief moment, their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them.

then she broke the moment, closing the notebook with a decisive thud. “well, it’s not art yet,” she said lightly. “it’s just a mess right now.”

trent grinned, leaning back against the loveseat with an easy confidence. “if that’s your mess, i can’t imagine what it looks like when you get it right.”

her cheeks warmed slightly, but she ignored it, standing up and stretching. “i’m getting coffee,” she said, brushing past him toward the kitchenette.

trent watched her go, his smirk softening into something closer to admiration. she was a puzzle, constantly surprising him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying trying to figure her out.

—

trent returned to the hotel room, damp with sweat from his workout, his shirt sticking to his back as he pushed open the door. the room was already buzzing with activity; y/n sat at the small vanity, meticulously applying her makeup. she was dressed in a sleek outfit, her hair styled, looking entirely unbothered despite the early hour.

he leaned against the doorway, eyeing her as he wiped his face with a towel. “what’s the plan today?” he asked casually, peeling off his shirt and tossing it toward his suitcase.

y/n didn’t look up from her reflection, carefully blending the colors on her eyelids. “in the spirit of supporting one another while we’re away from home…” she started, her tone light but teasing, “i feel compelled to tell you something important.”

trent raised a brow, stepping toward the bathroom. “yeah? what’s that?”

“you have the fashion sense of a toddler,” she said flatly, still focused on her makeup.

he paused mid-step, turning to gape at her. “excuse me?”

“you heard me,” she said, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. “nala has better style than you.”

trent frowned, crossing his arms. “who’s nala?”

“my cat,” she said simply, finally glancing at him in the mirror. her expression was utterly serious, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “wow. i’ve just been compared to a cat.”

“a very fashionable cat,” she added, biting back a laugh. “but don’t take it too personally.”

he shook his head, muttering something about ungrateful people as he stepped into the bathroom. a moment later, the sound of running water filled the room. “and here i was thinking we were making progress,” he called out over the noise.

“we are making progress,” she countered, switching to her lipstick. “you helped me last night—whether it was intentional or not—so, in honor of that, i’m offering you something very rare.”

“oh yeah?” he replied, his voice slightly muffled by the shower. “what’s that?”

“my services,” she said, her tone mockingly grand.

the water turned off, and a few seconds later, trent emerged from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chest. his curls were damp, framing his face in a way that made her pause briefly, her gaze flickering before she caught herself.

he leaned against the doorframe, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “what kind of services are we talking about, y/n?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

she rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her gaze briefly betrayed her, following a single droplet as it slid down his abs. she cleared her throat, meeting his eyes with a steady look. “i am taking you, trent alexander-arnold, for a makeover.”

his smirk faltered, replaced by a look of mock horror. “a makeover? you’re out of your mind.”

“it’s for your own good,” she said sweetly, standing and crossing her arms. “one time and one time only, i’m going to fix the mess you call a wardrobe.”

trent chuckled, shaking his head as he walked past her to grab some clothes. “you know, this feels like payback for that toddler comment.”

“oh, it definitely is,” she said with a grin, watching him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “but seriously, you need it. nala agrees.”

“the cat has no say in this,” he shot back, laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

the streets of paris were buzzing with life as y/n and trent stepped out of the car, the crisp morning air carrying the faint scent of fresh bread from nearby bakeries. trent had barely adjusted the collar of his jacket before she grabbed his arm, tugging him forward with a determination that made him laugh under his breath.

“we’re starting here,” she announced, pointing at a sleek boutique with mannequins dressed in impossibly tailored outfits.

“you’re really taking this seriously, huh?” he teased, letting her drag him along, her smaller hand gripping his forearm. she wasn’t holding his hand—not quite—but her touch was firm, her nails brushing against his skin in a way that he couldn’t ignore.

“if i’m putting my time and energy into this, you’re going to leave paris looking like a new man,” she replied, not sparing him a glance as they stepped inside.

the store was minimalistic and modern, with racks of clothes that looked more like art than fabric. y/n wasted no time, walking down the aisles with a critical eye. she reached for a navy jacket and held it up to him, tilting her head as if she were picturing it on him.

“try this,” she said, thrusting it into his hands.

“you didn’t even ask if i like it,” trent said, eyebrows raised.

“it’s not about what you like,” she replied sweetly. “it’s about what i like. keep up.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he followed her to the fitting rooms. “you’re ruthless, you know that?”

“you’ll thank me later,” she said, shooting him a smirk before disappearing back into the racks.

trent emerged a few minutes later, the jacket fitting him like a glove. y/n’s gaze flicked over him, her lips pressing together as she considered. “not bad,” she admitted, stepping closer to adjust the lapels. her fingers brushed against his chest, and he swore she hesitated for a second before stepping back.

“just ‘not bad’?” he asked, spinning slightly to show off.

“don’t push it,” she said, grabbing another shirt from the rack. “we’ve got more to do.”

and they did—store after store, y/n dragged him through narrow aisles, her energy relentless. she wasn’t shy about yanking his arm or turning him by the shoulders to face a mirror. sometimes, her hand would linger on his wrist, warm and steady, and he wondered if she noticed.

“what about this one?” he asked at one point, holding up a a shirt that was all too flashy for her.

she stared at him, unimpressed. “do you want people to think you’re twelve?”

“i think it’s fun,” he said, grinning.

“we’re not here for fun,” she retorted, pulling him toward another section. “we’re here for transformation.”

“you’re taking this a bit personal, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning closer as she browsed. “it’s almost like you want me to look good.”

“someone has to,” she shot back, refusing to meet his gaze. “you’re a public figure, trent. appearances matter.”

he hummed, watching her with a smirk as she focused on a row of sweaters. her concentration was cute—her brows furrowed, lips pursed as she muttered to herself about colors and cuts.

“you know,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you enjoyed spending all this time with me.”

she froze for half a second before brushing him off. “don’t flatter yourself,” she said, turning to shove a pair of trousers into his hands. “try these on.”

as the day wore on, they settled into an easy rhythm. y/n teased him mercilessly about his past choices (“what was this shirt? did you lose a bet?”), and trent fired back with his own jabs (“you’re lucky i even let you take the lead on this”). but there were quieter moments too—like when she adjusted the cuffs of a coat he tried on, her fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary, or when he caught her watching him in the mirror, her expression unreadable.

outside yet another boutique, trent leaned against a lamppost, bags piling up at his feet. “how many more stores are we hitting?” he asked, feigning exhaustion.

“at least one more,” she replied, hands on her hips. “stop being dramatic.”

“you’re bossy, you know that?” he said, grinning.

“and you’re lucky i’m taking the time to fix this mess,” she shot back, grabbing his arm again. this time, her grip was looser, her fingers brushing against his in a way that felt almost… deliberate.

he didn’t say anything, letting her guide him. for now, he thought, he’d let her have her fun.

she sighed, trying to navigate through the store, “these stores changed so much once i last came here with ja-“ she stopped herself abruptly. hoping trent hadn’t heard her slip up.

trent stopped mid-step outside the next boutique, his head snapping toward her. “wait—what did you just say?”

y/n blinked, momentarily confused, until her brain replayed what had just slipped from her mouth. her eyes widened slightly, and she shifted on her feet. “oh, um, i said i’ve been here before.”

“with jadon,” he clarified, his voice edged with mock annoyance as he folded his arms.

she winced, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah, sorry. force of habit.”

trent narrowed his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “force of habit, huh? well, i’m sure he didn’t complain about your fashion critiques, considering his—what’s the word?—questionable sense of style.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating. “oh, definitely not. you dress better than him, no contest.”

“of course i do,” trent said smugly, holding his head high.

she rolled her eyes, stepping closer and lightly patting his cheek. “of course, my love.” the words were dripping with sarcasm, but the playful glint in her eyes softened the blow.

“don’t patronize me,” he shot back, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away from his face.

she shrugged, unfazed, already moving toward the entrance of the store. “but since we’re on the topic,” she continued, waving a hand dramatically, “his style was always so… streetwear-heavy. nothing wrong with that, but it never matched my vibe, you know? i like to experiment, play with textures and layers. he just threw on whatever hoodie was closest.”

trent trailed behind her, smirking as she rambled.

“and then there’s you,” she said, stopping in front of a mannequin dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. she turned to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “you’re like my own personal ken doll. i get to dress you up, fix your outfits, make sure you look decent for the cameras.”

he raised an eyebrow. “ken doll? that’s what you’re going with?”

“absolutely,” she replied with a grin, stepping back to look him up and down dramatically. “and you should be grateful. you have the face and body to pull off almost anything, but without me? you’d probably still be wearing monogram Louis Vuitton like it’s 2018.”

trent froze for a second, a sheepish expression creeping across his face. “i—what’s wrong with monogram Louis Vuitton?”

her eyes narrowed as she caught the hint of hesitation in his voice. “you do have it, don’t you?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “…maybe.”

“that’s what i thought,” she said smugly, looping her arm through his and giving him a playful tug forward. “don’t worry, trent alexander-arnold. i’m your catalyst, your style savior. by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be thanking me.”

he laughed under his breath, letting her guide him deeper into the store. “you’re really not letting up, are you?”

“not a chance,” she replied, already scanning the racks. “and for the record, if i see anything monogrammed, i’m burning it. consider it an act of mercy.”

trent rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. he might’ve been the one with the attention-grabbing reputation, but with her around, she always managed to steal the spotlight in her own way.

as she dragged him along, trent let out a mock sigh of defeat, though he couldn’t help but admire the way her smile lit up her entire face. she was bossy, relentless, and occasionally infuriating, but he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying every second of it.

trent stepped out of the dressing room in the brown bomber jacket and baggy jeans, hoping for something a bit more polished. he looked at y/n, her gaze flicking over him with that critical yet playful intensity.

“well?” he asked, crossing his arms, already anticipating her verdict.

she paused for a moment, her lips curving into a small grin. “you look…”

“yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, already preparing for her judgment.

“cute,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

trent froze, blinking a few times. “cute?” he repeated, incredulity in his voice.

“yeah, cute,” she confirmed, her smile widening as she watched his expression.

trent couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “cute? is the point of this for me to look ‘cute’? i thought you were revamping my style. i’m a man, y/n, if you couldn’t tell.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his attempt to sound offended. “oh, i know you’re a man, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look cute every once in a while.”

“cute isn’t what i’m going for,” trent shot back, still feeling the absurdity of it all. “i was hoping for something a little more, i don’t know, sharp?”

“sharp?” she repeated, a teasing note creeping into her voice. “you want to look like you just stepped out of a magazine shoot or something? you’re already a model, trent. not to mention you features are soft. i’m giving you style, not just ‘manly’ vibes.”

he sighed, rolling his eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “well, i’m glad i’m your personal project, but i don’t think ‘cute’ is going to cut it.”

y/n grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “trust me, you’re pulling it off. but okay, i get it. you want to feel like a man, not a boy. let’s take it up a notch.”

she eyed the other racks, swiping a leather jacket off a hanger with a satisfied expression. “this—this is more like it. a little edge, a little confidence. no more ‘cute.’”

trent, still a little baffled by the whole thing, relented with a shrug. “fine, but if i’m still ‘cute,’ you’re getting a refund for your services.”

“deal,” she said, winking as she handed him the jacket.

“now we’re talking,” he muttered as he took the jacket, feeling the smooth leather. he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or confused by how much fun he was having.

y/n’s eyes narrowed in a playful yet serious way as she grabbed the leather jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “you’re getting this,” she said firmly, adjusting the collar as if she were making a final decision.

trent, now genuinely amused and a little exasperated, looked at her. “really? this? you’re sure about that?”

“absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a look that dared him to argue. “thank me later when the photos come out and everyone’s talking about how good you look.”

trent let out a breath, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. the jacket did fit him better than he’d expected, the rich leather adding an edge to his usual style that he hadn’t thought was possible. still, he tried to maintain some sense of resistance.

“fine,” he muttered, throwing her a challenging grin. “but if i end up looking like a wannabe rock star, i’m blaming you.”

y/n laughed, walking around him to inspect her work. “i’ll take the blame. but trust me, you’re gonna look like the hottest guy in the room. you just wait.”

trent rolled his eyes, his smirk tugging at his lips. “i guess we’ll see.”

“oh, we will,” she replied with a wink. “now, go and get changed. we’re not done yet. i have more outfits that are gonna make you look—” she paused for dramatic effect, her tone teasing, “—undeniably handsome.”

trent shook his head, stepping back into the dressing room with a shake of his head, but the smallest of smiles tugged at his mouth as he thought about how she was actually right. he was starting to trust her, just a little bit.

trent stood there for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. his hands rested on his hips as he processed the jacket she’d just picked out, his mind still buzzing with her words. it wasn’t just the outfit she had chosen—he was used to wearing clothes that made a statement, but something about the way she made him feel, the ease with which she gave compliments, left him slightly taken aback.

as he glanced down at himself, he realized how much he actually enjoyed her praise. it wasn’t just the clothes; it was the way she made him feel seen, noticed, in the most natural way. her words had a softness to them, as if she believed them wholeheartedly—her voice so light and confident, like she had always known he was capable of pulling something like this off.

and it wasn’t just about what she said; it was the way she said it. her compliments seemed to flow effortlessly from her beautiful lips, without hesitation or a second thought, making him feel like he was worthy of them. she didn’t just throw words his way like most people did; they felt earned, like she genuinely saw something in him that no one else did.

he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. sure, there were fans, there were cameras and adoring eyes, but this? this felt different. her compliments didn’t just settle on his skin; they sank in deeper, wrapped around him, making him feel like he was finally seen for who he really was.

he smiled to himself, a thought lingering: maybe she wasn’t just revamping his style. maybe she was helping him find something more.

it was a friday evening, and y/n was sprawled on the couch at zaia’s house, her phone tucked between her fingers as she skimmed through messages. zaia and her fiancé, cassius, were in the kitchen, busy making dinner while y/n absentmindedly glanced at the screen, scrolling past pictures of a cat someone had tagged her in. her phone buzzed again, and a small smile tugged at her lips when she saw the name flashing across the screen: trent.

trent: do you ever just look at your trainers and wonder how they got so dirty?

y/n chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

y/n: now that you mention it... i never really thought about it. do you spend all your time wondering about shoes or is this a new thing?

trent: just one of my many deep thoughts. i’m quite the philosopher at heart.

y/n raised an eyebrow, holding back her laugh as zaia wandered over with a glass of water, catching the tail end of her conversation.

“you better not be texting jadon again,” zaia teased, raising her glass to her lips with a wink.

y/n rolled her eyes but shot back a casual shrug, her thumb still typing a response. “no, it’s trent,” she said matter-of-factly, not thinking much of it.

zaia glanced at her with a smirk, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “oh, trent,” she echoed, a playful glint in her eyes. “not jadon then? that’s a first.”

cassius, leaning casually against the counter, smirked too. “you’re not even going to hide it, huh?” he added, looking between the two women, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“i’m not hiding anything. trent’s just funny, okay?” y/n defended, trying to sound casual, though the way zaia and cassius exchanged looks made her cheeks flush slightly. “it’s not what you think.”

zaia shrugged, her playful grin never fading. “well, if it’s trent... maybe we should keep an eye on you. you know, i’ll confiscate your phone if i have to. i am the responsible one around here,” she teased.

“uh-huh, right,” y/n muttered, rolling her eyes, tapping away at her phone, ignoring their teasing. “anyway, i don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. it’s just... a text.”

before she could finish, her phone lit up again, this time with a notification: facetime call from trent.

zaia grinned widely as y/n's eyes went wide. “ohhh, here we go. first face-to-face call. let’s see this.”

y/n shot her a look. “it’s not like that,” she said quickly, but it was clear zaia wasn’t buying it.

“i’m watching this,” zaia said, taking a step back with her glass of water, a sly smile still playing on her lips.

y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she accepted the call, standing up and quickly walking toward the guest room. the door clicked shut behind her, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, inhaling a breath to calm her nerves. she pressed the phone to her ear, the screen lighting up with trent’s face.

“hey, what’s up?” she said, trying to sound cool but her voice betraying a hint of excitement.

trent’s face appeared on the screen with a smile. “not much. just had a thought, and i wanted to ask you something.”

y/n leaned back, crossing her arms with an amused smile. “a thought, huh? is this one of those philosopher thoughts?”

trent chuckled, the sound sending a warm wave through her chest. “maybe. but seriously—have you ever thought about how weird it is when people say ‘goodnight’ in a text but don’t actually say goodnight? like, they just drop the message and expect you to read it and know that it means ‘goodnight.’ like... come on, just say it. it’s polite.”

y/n’s lips twitched into a smile. she hadn’t known trent was this funny, his dry humor sneaking in like an unexpected comfort. it was nice—refreshing, even. “i honestly never gave it that much thought,” she admitted, “but now that you mention it, yeah, it is kind of weird. so, do you actually say goodnight when you text?”

“i do now,” trent said seriously, his smirk on full display. “i’ll text goodnight every time now, just so you know i’m a decent person.”

“decent, huh?” she teased, watching him laugh on the screen. “you’re just looking for an excuse for me to compliment you.”

“well, is it working?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n didn’t respond right away, feeling the warmth in her chest again. it was the way he said things, the way he spoke to her like he cared, even in the small details. she wanted to say something, but before she could, zaia’s voice cut through the door.

“hey, let me know if i need to change my sheets for you!” she called loudly, her voice carrying through the house.

y/n’s face heated, and she quickly stood, walking toward the window to regain some semblance of composure. “zaia’s being zaia,” she muttered, her voice betraying her embarrassment.

“wait, what’s that about sheets?” trent asked, raising an eyebrow. “why would she need to change them?”

y/n groaned, rolling her eyes. “don’t even start. it’s just her being... you know, zaia. she’s always been like this.” she paused, hesitant to elaborate. “she’s my childhood best friend. we do movie nights every friday, and ever since she met cassius, he’s kind of been involved in it, too. they’re... a lot.”

trent leaned closer to the screen, his smirk widening. “sounds like a lot to handle.”

y/n laughed softly, feeling a little lighter. “damn straight. i’m the responsible one, though,” she said, a bit of pride in her voice.

“you’re the responsible one, huh?” trent teased. “i’m gonna have to take that role on now, i think. it’s my responsibility to rope you in and make sure you’re not doing anything too wild.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “yeah, well, you’ve got your hands full now,” she said with a grin. “but you’re not off the hook. you’ve got to help me keep this movie night under control.”

trent’s eyes softened, his smile more genuine now. “i’ve got your back. no worries. i like small talk like this,” he added casually. “it’s... nice.”

y/n leaned back against the bed, the steady hum of comfort between them filling the silence. “it is, isn’t it?” she murmured. “nice. small talk... it’s underrated.”

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of each other’s breathing, as if both of them were just settling into the quiet rhythm of the conversation. trent shifted slightly, and his gaze softened. “yeah, i agree,” he said. “so... how was your day?”

y/n smiled, relaxing into the conversation. “it was good. nothing too crazy. i was hanging out with zaia and cassius. we were supposed to watch a movie, but i think we got distracted by... everything else.”

“sounds familiar,” trent said with a chuckle. “my day was alright. it’s been pretty busy, but i’m just glad it’s over.”

“same here,” she said, her voice light and easy now. “it’s nice just... talking like this.”

“yeah,” trent agreed. “it is.”

and for a while, they just stayed on the line, the small talk and laughter weaving a delicate thread of connection, and y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest as she realized that, for once, it didn’t feel like just small talk at all.

as the call continued, y/n found herself leaning back against the bed, the soft glow of her phone screen illuminating her face. trent was still grinning at her, sitting in what looked like a hotel room, his hair a little messier than usual, as though he had just finished a training session or was settling in for the night.

“you’re staying in a hotel?” y/n asked, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her blanket.

“yeah, had a match earlier. just finishing up a few things before bed,” trent replied casually, but y/n could see the hint of something in his eyes. there was a softness there, something that made her heart flutter unexpectedly.

“long day, huh?” she said, trying to mask the sudden warmth that spread through her chest. it was a strange feeling, knowing he was in a hotel room somewhere far away, but still finding time to call her.

“yeah, but it’s worth it if it means i get to talk to you,” trent said, his smile widening slightly. he seemed a little shy, which caught her off guard, making her heart skip a beat.

y/n's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing. she didn’t know why, but hearing him say that made everything feel different—more real. the distance between them didn’t matter right now. it was just them, and this moment felt special in a way she hadn’t expected. she had never thought much about how long he might spend talking to her, but now that he had said it so casually, it made her feel… important.

“you really do think of me, huh?” she said softly, her voice quiet with the sudden realization.

trent tilted his head, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “of course i do. i wouldn’t be calling you if i didn’t,” he said, his eyes softening as he watched her. “besides, you’re on my mind more than i care to admit.”

y/n smiled, feeling warmth spread through her like a gentle wave. she bit her lip, her heart racing slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. “i didn’t realize you were this... cute,” she teased, trying to hide the sudden shyness that crept up on her.

trent laughed, leaning back against the pillows. “again with the cute stuff, huh? i’ll take that as a compliment.” he grinned, his voice low, playful. “i guess you’re not so bad yourself.”

they fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind of silence that felt easy and natural. it wasn’t awkward at all, and y/n realized she was smiling without even trying. this was nice. the way they could talk about nothing, but it meant something all the same.

“so, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” trent asked, breaking the silence, his tone suddenly light.

“probably just the usual—take it easy, maybe get some work done,” she replied, glancing out the window. “what about you?”

“same. i have to do a few more things for the team, but i’ll be free after that. maybe we could—i don’t know—do something together?”

y/n’s heart skipped again at the suggestion. “you want to do something together?” she echoed, surprised.

“yeah,” trent said casually, “maybe we could facetime again. talk some more, if you’re up for it.”

y/n smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading further. “sounds like a plan,” she said softly.

“good,” he said with a satisfied nod. “i’ll be looking forward to it.”

there was another brief pause, and y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself, feeling lighter than she had all day. he really did think of her. even across the miles and the hours of distance, he still made time for her. it made her feel special in a way that was simple, yet undeniable.

“you’re cute too, by the way,” he added quietly, her voice barely above a whisper but she could still hear the teasing undertone .

her eyes sparkled. “good to know,” she said, clearly pleased. “maybe next time we can talk about what other compliments you’re hiding from me.”

trent laughed, rolling her eyes. “you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“i will,” she replied, her tone playful as she met his warm gaze, like a promise. “goodnight, y/n. talk soon?” he said

“goodnight, trent. talk soon,” she echoed, her smile lingering even after the call ended. as she set her phone down and lay back against the pillows, she felt that warmth in her chest again, like she was floating in the afterglow of something sweet and simple—something that didn’t need to be said out loud to be understood. he was thinking of her. and somehow, that made everything feel like it was exactly where it needed to be.

y/n's PR team had insisted that trent accompany her for the day, even though it was his day off. apparently, the cameras would add a spark of “authenticity” to the behind-the-scenes content they were trying to create for her upcoming show, a special one-off concert to promote her new album. she couldn’t deny that the idea of having him there, especially in front of so many cameras, would make everything feel just a little more… complicated. but she couldn’t back out either. not with the pressure mounting.

the day had begun with rehearsals, and y/n found herself in her usual comfortable, low-key attire: baggy sweats, a worn tank top, and a hat pulled low over her eyes. she had a playlist lined up—some of the tracks she’d be performing tonight—and she was lost in the music as she moved around the stage. there was something freeing about it, about letting her body respond to the rhythm, even when the rehearsals weren’t perfect. the mic felt like an extension of her body, and as she sang, she couldn’t help but notice trent, sitting quietly off to the side.

he’d been watching her for a while now, his gaze intense but silent. his presence made her acutely aware of her own movements, and she tried to focus on the song, pushing the thoughts of him out of her head. but the way his eyes followed her, how they lingered on her curves and the way her body moved with the music, made it difficult to stay in her own rhythm.

after finishing the first set of songs, y/n sat down on the edge of the stage, crossing her legs beneath her and letting out a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. her hat had slipped off during one of the songs, and now, with the music paused, she took it off completely, flipping her hair out from underneath it with a sigh.

“you’re staring again,” she said, glancing up at trent, who had moved closer during her set, but was still a few feet away.

trent raised an eyebrow, a cocky grin playing on his lips. “can you blame me?”

y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged at the corners. “i didn’t realize you were so into stage performances.”

“it’s not the performance, y/n,” he replied smoothly, stepping forward. “it’s you.”

she felt the heat creep up her neck, trying to fight the sudden flutter in her chest, but it was getting harder to ignore the tension between them. she looked away, focusing on her hands in her lap. “well, i didn’t do it for you.”

“i think you did,” he teased, finally stepping onto the stage beside her. he leaned over, bracketing her in with his arms as he crouched down to her level. she could smell the faint scent of his cologne, and the heat of his body so close made her pulse quicken.

she looked up at him, eyes widening slightly at the sudden proximity, and pulled off her hat, shaking out her hair, letting it fall freely around her shoulders. she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, and it made her feel… exposed.

“so, how does this all feel?” he asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. “i can’t imagine what it’s like to be a singer. all this pressure, all the expectations… how do you deal with it?”

y/n paused, her gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before she spoke. “it’s hard, trent. people don’t realize how hard it is. when i was in the choir, i only had to worry about my part—i didn’t have to worry about everything else. back then, i didn’t even want to be noticed.” she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “i tried to go unnoticed in the back row.”

he leaned in slightly, his voice quiet. “i find that hard to believe. you—unnoticed?”

she smirked, meeting his eyes again, a little taken aback by how sincere he sounded. “yeah, i was pretty good at it, actually. no one ever picked me out.”

“you must've eventually,” he said, his voice almost like a whisper. “you could never go unnoticed, not then and not now.”

there was something in his eyes, something that made y/n’s heart skip a beat. she could see the intensity in them, the admiration that was growing more evident with every word. for a moment, everything around them felt like it faded away—the music, the other people in the room. it was just the two of them, locked in a quiet moment of connection.

she cleared her throat, trying to break the tension, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. “i guess it’s crazy how i even got picked out,” she murmured. “my teacher noticed me, even though i was trying so hard to blend in. i guess i never thought i’d end up here, doing this for real.”

trent’s expression softened. “you were always meant for it, y/n. you’ve got something. something special.”

she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t know what to say.

before she could respond, the moment was broken by her stage manager, who called from the side, “y/n, we need to do a sound check for the next song!”

y/n blinked, almost startled by the interruption. she stood up quickly, brushing off the dust from her legs as she grabbed her hat, quickly flipping it back on. “yeah, i—uh, i need to go.”

trent stood up too, taking a step back, his expression unreadable for a second. “guess i’ll see you later,” he said, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

but there was something more in his eyes now—a glimmer of something that y/n couldn’t quite place, but it made her pause before she turned away.

“yeah, later,” she said softly, then walked toward the sound booth, feeling the weight of his gaze still following her.

the rest of rehearsal passed in a blur, but the tension between them lingered like an electric charge in the air. it wasn’t just the music, the spotlight—it was something deeper, something she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to confront just yet.

trent arrived back at y/n’s dressing room after catching his breath from warming up, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the match earlier. the adrenaline from being on the pitch still lingered in his body, but it was quickly replaced by something else as he pushed open the door.

the room was dimly lit, a soft glow coming from the vanity mirror where y/n was sitting, adjusting the final touches of her makeup. the glow of the soft pink and white lights framed her face perfectly, making her seem even more ethereal than usual. she was dressed in an outfit that trent could barely tear his eyes away from—a sparkling, skin-tight number that hugged her body in all the right places, the material glinting with every subtle movement she made. her dark locks were styled in a way that made them cascade down her back, and her makeup, subtle but striking, highlighted her best features.

the moment he saw her, his breath caught in his throat. y/n was gorgeous, there was no other way to put it. but it was more than just her appearance—it was the way she held herself, the way she seemed to glow in that space. the way she was always unapologetically herself. it was intoxicating.

"wow," he muttered under his breath, his eyes raking over her, a mixture of awe and desire in his expression.

she caught his gaze in the mirror, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “like what you see?”

trent’s voice came out rougher than he intended. “you... you look incredible.” he took a step closer to her, almost hesitant. "really. I... don't even know what to say."

y/n turned around, giving him a quick glance up and down, noting how he seemed almost caught off guard by her. “well, that’s a first. you always have something to say.” she tilted her head slightly. “what’s going on with you, trent? you okay?”

before he could answer, his eyes drifted to a small bouquet of roses placed delicately on the vanity table next to y/n. the red and white petals caught his attention for a moment before he read the card attached to them. his expression shifted instantly as he read the familiar handwriting.

“for the one who still has my heart, with love, j.”

trent’s heart sank as he read the note, his fingers twitching slightly. his eyes flicked back to y/n, who was completely unaware of his change in demeanor as she stood and smoothed out the fabric of her outfit. the warmth he’d felt before suddenly vanished, replaced by a coldness he didn’t even know he was capable of.

he tried to mask it, but y/n caught the change. “you alright?” she asked, now sensing something was off in the air. “what is it?”

trent gave a stiff smile, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his usual cocky demeanor returning. “nothing. just... something’s in the air tonight.”

“right,” y/n responded, her tone becoming more cautious. she could feel the tension shift between them, but before she could say anything else, trent backed away toward the door.

“you should get ready. your fans are waiting,” he said, voice cool and clipped, almost like he was trying to shake off something he couldn’t quite express. “I’ll see you out there, yeah?”

before y/n could respond, trent had already turned and walked out, leaving her alone in the room with nothing but the soft hum of the lights around her and the faint scent of roses that lingered in the air.

the concert started, and the energy in the arena was palpable. the audience was buzzing with excitement, and y/n could feel the adrenaline building in her as she made her way onto the stage. the crowd cheered loudly as she took her place, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before them. but as soon as the music began, something shifted.

y/n poured herself into the performance, every lyric coming from her with a rawness that had been building for months. she felt the familiar pull of the microphone in her hand, the music wrapping around her body like an old friend. it was like no one else existed, only her and the crowd and the way her voice seemed to connect with every word.

trent stood backstage, watching her from the side, the intense glow of the stage lights illuminating his face. he’d been so sure of his control earlier, but now, as he watched y/n sing, everything felt... complicated.

he knew something wasn’t right. he could feel his heart racing, but it wasn’t just because of the performance. it was the way y/n looked, how she seemed to be pouring all of herself into the lyrics. it was that feeling again, the one that had started when he first saw her earlier, but now it was tinged with jealousy and something more raw, more vulnerable than he cared to admit.

his eyes fixed on y/n as she made her way to the stage for her second set of songs. she was already glammed up—an undeniable force, even before she opened her mouth. her outfit, a sleek black dress with a plunging neckline, clung to her curves, highlighting everything that made him ache with desire. she looked stunning, and yet, something about her tonight felt different.

but as soon as the music began and the lights dimmed, trent knew he couldn’t escape it. she took the stage, her voice smooth and powerful, and the crowd erupted in cheers. but trent couldn’t focus on the applause or the energy in the room. his mind kept returning to the roses. the way she had been so comfortable, so carefree about her connection to jadon, when he had been so careful about everything between them.

and then, it happened—the moment that made everything fall apart.

the song. spread thin. the lyrics hit trent like a freight train, each word piercing through the air like a blade. the crowd was captivated by her performance, but trent’s stomach twisted as he listened to the words.

and now i cannot trust you and i'm forced to let you go that's what spreadin' thin on us do

the lyrics felt like a dagger aimed straight at his chest. and for a moment, trent could have sworn the song was directed at him. but then, he heard it again—the familiar name, the familiarity of the words. they weren't about him. it was about jadon.

baby, you're the reason you always think the only one who needs any attention is you

his heart lurched as he realized the truth. the song wasn’t just a performance. it was personal. she was singing about jadon—the man she was still tangled up with. all the flirtation between them, all the moments they shared, it was fake in comparison. she wasn’t singing for him. she was singing for someone else.

don't be so conceited hope you know honesty was the only thing that could keep me from leavin'

the jealousy was overwhelming now. trent felt the weight of her past with jadon, how deeply she still felt for him, and the thought of it made his chest tighten. he stood frozen, feeling an ache in his chest, his gaze never leaving y/n.

now i'm left to you wonder, how i let this go under? how i could watch it rain for so long and ain't hear no thunder?

her voice was so raw, so full of emotion. he couldn’t escape the feeling that he had been watching her fall apart for too long. she was lost in the song, lost in the past, and he was just a part of the show—a distraction from the man who still had her heart.

trent couldn’t stop the knot forming in his throat as the lyrics continued.

and we led all our hollywood dreams end in a blunder how i may never see you again, i hate when the summer ends but it always would, and you'll always be disappointed 'cause you're insecure, chasin' things you thought you wanted

the song spoke to something deeper, something trent couldn’t ignore anymore. it was about how she had been left behind, how she had tried to move forward, but her heart was still in the past. the painful irony of it all hit him like a slap. she was singing for jadon, and in doing so, she was pushing him further away.

the crowd cheered, but trent felt nothing. his emotions were a mixture of confusion, hurt, and anger. he was standing backstage, pretending to be happy for her, pretending that everything between them was real, when in reality, he was just another player in a game she wasn’t invested in. she was still in love with someone else. someone who wasn’t him.

trent stood there, paralyzed, as he watched her on stage, singing the words with such conviction. he had never felt more like an outsider in her life. every note she sang was a reminder that no matter how much he tried to be close to her, he was always going to be second to someone else.

and if hollywood is home now it's just a house that is haunted

he watched her, his heart sinking lower with every line of the song. she was haunted, and he had never realized just how much jadon still haunted her.

by the time the song ended, trent couldn’t stand it anymore. he turned on his heel and stormed out of the backstage area, barely hearing the crowd’s applause over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears.

as the applause for her performance rang through the venue, y/n could feel the weight of trent’s gaze on her. but she didn’t dare look his way—not now, not after everything. she had been so careful not to let her feelings show, but her song had said everything she couldn’t.

and when she finally caught his eye after the performance, she saw it—the coldness. the distance he had put between them, the walls he had built up.

she had known the moment she decided to sing spread thin that it would cut through the air like a knife. but she couldn’t help it. jadon was still there, lingering in her heart, no matter how much she wanted to move on.

she could see the anger in trent’s eyes, the hurt—and it stung.

but maybe, just maybe, he was feeling something real. something that had always been there, just hidden beneath the surface.

as she made her way off stage, she hoped—no, prayed—that this wasn’t the end of whatever it was between them.

for the first time, trent wished it was him she was singing for. he wished it had always been him. but now, watching her walk away, he realized it was too late to change the past. and it hurt more than he could ever admit.

that evening, after the show, y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. maybe it was in the way trent was quieter than usual, the distance between them palpable in the way he kept his answers short. she noticed the small shifts in him—the slight tension in his posture when she laughed at something he said, the way he would avoid looking at her for just a moment too long.

y/n knew he was pulling away, but she didn't know why. and that was the hardest part. it wasn’t like they’d been deep in something yet—nothing serious, nothing real. but they had shared something, even if it was just the potential of something, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there could be more.

but now, she could see him building walls.

she couldn't let herself hope, though. she had to face the reality of it. maybe it was easier to pretend it was nothing at all than deal with the bitter truth that he wasn’t interested in something real. it had never been real to him.

after some internal debate, y/n decided to invite him over to her house. just a quiet evening, a chance to clear her head and figure out where things stood—where she stood. her parents were away, visiting family back home. the house was quiet, just the way she liked it when she wanted space to think.

when he arrived, there was a formality to him, like he wasn’t sure what to do with the invitation. he was polite, distant, not the easygoing trent she'd spent time with. he glanced around the living room, taking it all in, before turning to face her.

“thanks for the invite,” he said, his voice a little tight, like he was still figuring out what role he was playing here.

“no problem,” she replied, offering a small smile. “want something to drink?”

“no, I’m good.”

they walked toward the couch, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the house. y/n sat first, trying to ease into the calm atmosphere, but the air between them felt charged with the unspoken. she had to say something, had to figure out what was going on in his head.

“so... how did the show go?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. she just wanted to hear him speak, hear something other than the silence that hung around them.

“it was good,” trent replied, his voice clipped but not unkind. “crowd was into it.”

“nice,” she said, nodding. the small talk felt like a barrier, and it made her anxious.

the silence settled back in. as if on cue, nala, y/n's cat, appeared from the corner of the room, her yellow eyes immediately locking onto trent. y/n could already feel the tension in the air. trent, who had never been fond of animals, stiffened as nala crept closer, her curiosity piqued by his presence.

"she's harmless," y/n said, trying to ease the moment.

trent looked at the cat warily. “not so sure about that,” he muttered, eyes flicking from nala back to y/n.

y/n chuckled softly before scooping nala up into her arms. “it’s fine,” she said, lifting the cat higher so trent could get a better look. “you wanna meet her?”

trent looked at her for a long moment, hesitant, then nodded reluctantly. y/n could tell he was uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight. she placed nala gently in his arms, and the cat immediately sniffed trent’s hand, her soft purring vibrating against his chest.

“there,” y/n teased. “she likes your scent.”

trent gave a half-smile, but it was clear he was still unsure, his hands stiff as he awkwardly held the cat. but the brief connection between them softened the tension just a bit, and y/n could feel the atmosphere shift ever so slightly. after a few seconds, he handed nala back to her, and she cradled the cat gently in her lap.

they moved to the couch, sitting side by side in the quiet living room, each with their own thoughts. y/n tucked her legs under her, feeling a familiar sense of emptiness in the space between them. she looked at trent, trying to catch his gaze, but he was staring ahead, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air.

“so, y/n,” trent said after a long silence, turning slightly toward her. his tone was more casual now, but it still felt guarded. “you write your own songs, right?”

y/n felt a flutter in her chest. she had expected the conversation to veer in this direction, but hearing him ask it felt different. it wasn’t just a question—it felt like a test, a subtle push to see how much she was willing to reveal, how much she was worth beyond their surface flirtation.

“yeah, I do,” she answered, her voice steady, though her mind raced. she knew he was trying to assess her, to see if she was more than just the girl who had shared a couple of flirty texts with him.

“that’s what i thought,” trent replied with a slight smile , the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

there was an edge to the conversation, and y/n felt it, sharp as a knife. she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to let her frustration show. this was familiar. it was the same thing she had sensed earlier—the walls he was putting up, the way he was trying to keep things light, casual, and nothing more.

“look, y/n,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting slightly. “we shouldn’t complicate this.”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat. she had known it was coming, but hearing him say it out loud still stung.

“what do you mean?” she asked, her voice quiet, but the edge of hurt was unmistakable.

trent looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt almost too much. he seemed to hesitate for a moment, then sighed, leaning back a little. “I’m attracted to you. you’re a beautiful girl. but we both know why we’re here. we need to keep this professional. keep the boundaries clear. the flirting... it’s fun, but we can’t let it get messy.”

the words hit her like a cold wave, and y/n felt a deep, hollow ache spreading through her chest. she had been hoping—even just a little—that there could be something more here, something real. but his words shattered that hope, leaving nothing behind but the bitter realization that he hadn’t been looking for anything serious. not with her.

she opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. what could she say? it was clear. he didn’t want to complicate things, and she wasn’t going to be the one to make it more than it already was.

forcing a smile, she nodded, though it felt like her heart was being pulled out from her chest. “yeah. I get it,” she said, trying to make the words sound casual, but they tasted bitter in her mouth.

he didn’t seem to notice. or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. either way, he didn’t press further. “cool,” he said, as if it was no big deal. and just like that, they both fell back into their familiar roles—flirting, but never truly connecting.

the night slipped into quiet emptiness, the same kind of emptiness that y/n had been feeling all evening. when trent left, she closed the door behind him, feeling like she’d just let a piece of herself go.

but the pain lingered long after he was gone. the hurt wasn’t just from the rejection—it was the realization that she had built something in her mind, something that wasn’t real. it had never been real.

and letting go would be harder than she ever expected.

next

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