#she’s having a girl moment don’t mind her

[rafecameronssl4t]

I enjoyed reading your rafe fics of love island and I was wondering if you could write one where reader and rafe are coupled up but he went to casa amor. Rafe started getting close to another girl and ended up kissing her. The reader saw a video of what happened in casa amor and she’s all sad and heartbroken. When it comes to the re coupling, the reader stays single while rafe brings back the girl to the villa. It’s sad but also a happy ending? I understand if you don’t want to write it!! I’ve been watching season 6 of love island USA and now I want to read sad fics lol

Oscar Winning Tears || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader love island au

A/n: sorry bb this isn't a happy ending but I might end up writing a part 2????

Warnings: angst!!!! justice for my girl, it hurt me writing this :(

Word count: 1,905

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

Divider by @h-aewo

The firepit crackled softly, its warmth doing little to ease the icy weight in your chest. You stood among the other girls, the glow of the villa lights illuminating your tense expression. Casa Amor was over. This was the moment that would decide everything. The whispers around you were nervous, expectant. Some girls were murmuring about their hopes, clutching onto the chance that their boys had stayed loyal.

You barely heard them. Your mind was consumed by a single image: Rafe’s lips on another girl’s. That damn video. It had been quick—a montage of clips sent to the main villa to stir the pot. It worked. You’d seen him laughing with her, their bodies closer than they should’ve been, the playful touches that turned into something more. And then the kiss.

You’d felt your stomach drop as the girls gasped around you, some trying to reassure you while others exchanged worried glances. But you didn’t cry then, and you wouldn’t cry now. You refused to give anyone, especially him, that power. Your stomach churned just thinking about it, but you refused to let anyone see how much it hurt.

Sophie's voice broke through the tense silence. "Ladies, the boys are on their way back. Please stand by the firepit." You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand tall, even as your legs felt like jelly. Your palms were sweaty, and you discreetly wiped them on your dress, hoping to mask the anxiety clawing at your composure.

The first footsteps echoed from the path. A single pair. One of the girls next to you exhaled a shaky sigh of relief as her partner walked in alone, grinning sheepishly. Another boy followed, also alone. The tension was unbearable. Then, you heard it. Two sets of footsteps. Your breath hitched. A bitter chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it, soft but sharp, enough to make the girls around you glance your way.

You didn’t look at them. Your eyes were fixed on the pathway, your heart sinking deeper with each passing second. You’d been prepared for this, or at least you told yourself you were. But nothing could really prepare you for the sight of Rafe walking toward the firepit with another girl on his arm. And then you saw him.

He walked in, his hand lightly resting on the arm of another girl. He didn't meet your eyes. His head was low, his expression unreadable. If you didn’t know him so well, you might have missed the subtle signs of guilt: the tightness in his jaw, the way his hand fidgeted at his side, the occasional glance toward you that he quickly averted.

The murmurs from the other islanders grew louder as they registered the scene. You could feel their eyes darting between you and Rafe, their pity and shock palpable. When he reached his spot across from you, Sophie turned to you with a sympathetic smile. "Y/n," she began gently, her voice laced with concern, "how are you feeling, darling?"

You let out a dry laugh, the sound bitter even to your own ears. "How am I feeling?" you repeated, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. You took a moment to compose yourself, sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "I’m not surprised. I expected it." Everyone at the firepit watched silently.

"I saw the video," you added, your tone flat but sharp, like the edge of a knife. That did it. Rafe’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide with shock. Guilt was written all over his face. He opened his mouth, but you weren’t done. "Y/n—" he started, but you raised a hand to cut him off. "Don’t," you interrupt, your voice breaking slightly. You looked up at the sky, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay.

You refused to cry—not in front of everyone, not in front of him, and certainly not in front of her. The girl at his side, her hand still loosely resting on his arm, spoke up. "It’s Love Island, babe. You gotta do what you gotta do," she shrugs. Her voice was light, almost dismissive, as if her words weren’t twisting the knife already buried in your chest.

Your head snapped toward her, and for the first time that night, anger flared in your eyes. "You’ve literally been here five minutes," you snapped, your voice sharp and cutting. "Don’t tell me what Love Island is about." Her confidence faltered, and she blinked taken aback by your tone, but you didn’t give her the chance to respond. Your attention shifted back to Rafe.

The anger in your chest burned hotter now, but beneath it was a raw, aching hurt that threatened to consume you. You forced a bitter smile onto your face. "I hope you’re happy with your decision, Rafe. I really do. I hope you don’t regret it." The firepit was silent except for the crackling of the flames. The other islanders shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

Some of the girls moved closer to you, murmuring quiet words of comfort that barely registered. Rafe looked like he wanted to say something, his lips parting slightly, but no words came out. He looked down again, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. Straightening your spine, you turned away from him, heading back to your spot with the girls.

Your heart felt like it was shattering, pieces of it breaking off with every step, but you kept your head high. The tears still threatened to fall, but you blinked them back, refusing to give him—or anyone—the satisfaction of seeing you cry. This was Love Island, and you’d play the game. But this time, you’d play it for yourself.

~

The recoupling ceremony ended in a blur. The moment Sophie dismissed everyone, you were the first to stand, your legs moving on autopilot as you stormed off. The heels of your shoes clicked sharply against the wooden planks, the sound punctuating each shaky breath you took. Behind you, the murmurs began—low and uncertain—as the other girls watched you retreat.

It wasn’t long before they followed, one by one, a show of solidarity that left the Casa Amor girls awkwardly planted in their seats. You held your head high as you walked away, desperate to maintain the last shred of composure you had left.

Rafe sat frozen at the firepit, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, the tension radiating like a storm about to break. His jaw clenched as he stared down at the ground, guilt eating away at him like poison. “Mate, what the fuck were you thinking?” one of the boys muttered, breaking the silence.

Another chimed in, leaning forward to fix him with a sharp glare. “She stayed loyal to you. You had the real deal, and you blew it for… what? A bit of fun?” Rafe swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. He couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t even look up. Beside him, the girl from Casa Amor shifted uncomfortably, her confidence waning as the tension mounted.

“Seriously, Rafe,” one of the others said, his voice lower but no less disappointed. “She deserved better than this. You know that, right?” The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, but he stayed silent, his guilt too overwhelming to let him respond. He risked a glance toward the path you’d disappeared down, but the sight only made his stomach churn.

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, unstoppable, hot streams burning down your cheeks. Your chest felt tight, suffocating, as if your heart was collapsing in on itself. You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, trying to steady your breathing, but it was no use. Sobs wracked your body, and you stumbled slightly, leaning against a railing for support.

Despite your efforts to escape, you were still within view of the firepit. You hated that they could see you like this—breaking apart, vulnerable, destroyed. The girls were by your side in an instant, Sofia’s arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. “It’s okay, we’ve got you. Let’s get you out of here, okay? Away from everyone,” she murmured softly, her voice low and comforting as the others circled around you protectively.

You nodded mutely, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. They guided you to one of the outdoor lounges, the soft cushions offering little comfort as you collapsed onto them. Sofia sat beside you, pulling you into her arms as the others hovered close, their faces etched with concern. You buried your face in Sofia’s shoulder, gripping her tightly as sobs tore through you.

It all spilled out—the heartbreak, the anger, the betrayal. “I can’t do this,” you gasped, the words spilling out between sobs. “I fucking can’t do this.” The raw pain in your words made the girls exchange worried glances, their sympathy etched in their faces. “I stayed loyal to him,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I stayed loyal, and he…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence.

The memory of him walking in with her was enough to shatter you all over again. “He’s a fucking idiot,” one of the girls said fiercely, her voice cutting through the haze of your pain. “You gave him everything, and he didn’t deserve any of it.” Sofia wiped your tears. "You did everything right. This isn’t on you." Her words only made it worse.

You had stayed loyal. You’d turned away from every temptation in Casa Amor, reminding yourself over and over that Rafe was waiting for you, that he was worth it. You’d trusted him to do the same. But he hadn’t. “But why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why wasn’t I enough?” The question hung in the air, unanswered, as your sobs filled the silence.

Sofia tightened her hold on you, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to comfort you. "I gave him everything," you choked out between sobs, your voice breaking. "And he just… he didn’t care. He didn’t even think about me." The girls murmured quiet reassurances, their hands resting on your back, your arms, wherever they could offer comfort.

But nothing they said could touch the aching void inside you, the gaping wound left by his betrayal. Your heart ached, a dull, throbbing pain that radiated through every inch of your body. The memory of Rafe walking in with her—his arm around her, his guilty eyes refusing to meet yours—was seared into your mind. For the first time, you truly doubted if you could keep going.

Back at the firepit, Rafe’s guilt was palpable. He finally glanced up, only to see the other boys still staring at him with varying degrees of disappointment and disbelief. “You fucked up, man,” one of them said bluntly. “Big time.” Rafe didn’t argue. He didn’t try to explain. What could he say? That he’d been tempted, that he’d let his guard down, that he’d convinced himself it was harmless until it wasn’t? None of it mattered now.

The damage was done. His gaze shifted to the path again, and for a fleeting moment, he thought about going after you. But when he saw the other girls walking back toward the villa, their arms around you like a protective wall, he knew he’d lost any right to comfort you. You were gone. And it was entirely his fault.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.

Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!

Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 

You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.

The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.

“Hey!” You shout back. 

She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.

“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.

“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.

“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 

Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”

Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”

Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 

You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”

“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 

Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 

As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 

After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.

Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 

Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 

“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 

Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.

“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 

Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 

Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’

When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.

“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”

“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 

“Barely. He barely touched me.”

Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 

You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.

He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.

“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.

Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 

You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 

“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 

No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.

His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.

Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 

You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.

Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 

His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.

“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”

His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 

He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”

“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 

Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.

The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.

It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.

“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.

Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 

His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.

At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.

Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 

“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.

“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”

“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 

The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 

“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 

“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.

Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 

You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 

“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 

“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 

Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?

“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”

“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 

“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 

His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 

The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 

Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 

You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”

“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 

“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.

Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 

Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”

He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 

“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.

“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 

“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.

Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 

“Please Ray…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”

Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 

He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.

You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”

His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”

“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.

“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.

“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 

Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 

“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.

“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”

“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.

“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 

“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.

“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”

Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.

“Fuck, where do you want it?”

“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”

“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.

“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.

“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”

After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.

“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 

You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.

He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 

You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 

“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 

“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.

Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”

You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”

He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 

“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.

“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”

“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.

“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.

“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 

He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”

“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”

“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”

“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.

“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“

You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”

“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“

“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He says, confused.

“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”

“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 

“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”

“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.

“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 

“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 

You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 

“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”

This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”

You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 

“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.

Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 

You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.

“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 

You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”

You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!

[ladey]

Quick question… could you maybe do a g!pJinx X femreader! And like it’s super soft and all of that? 😮‍💨🤭

pls don’t hate me for making jinx have a bionic strap instead. sorta the same thing anyways right

notes: nsfw, bionic strap-on sex, men & minors dni

jinx x female reader smut ᰔᩚ

jinx has you on your back while she nestles herself between your thighs. you can tell by her heavy breaths that she’s eager—eager to find out how this toy will work. if it will work. the amount of times she’s gotten penis envy over her regular strap is almost embarrassing.

“takin’ it slow with this one alright?” she murmurs, grabbing the shaft of the toy and lining herself up to your entrance. she’s taken by surprise at how she feels her own touch. it makes you giggle at her silly expression.

“where’s the fun in that? c’mon jinxie~” your sultry tone bleeds into a small whine. jinx sighs and smirks, teasingly rubbing the tip between your wet folds before fully burying herself in one go.

the air is knocked out of you and your thighs immediately tense. jinx on the other hand is paused above you, hand clutching tightly on the flesh of your plush thigh while the other holds her up beside your head.

“hooly shit~” she groans at how sensitive she is. she never imagined a day where she’d get to feel you like this. the sensation of your velvety heat wrapped around her so perfectly has her mind reeling to the point she has to refrain from just relentlessly pounding into you.

you cradle the blue haired girl’s face to pull her into a kiss, wanting her body closer against you. “how is it?” you murmur against her plump lips. as much as you want to tease her right now, you also just want to enjoy this new moment with her—even though it’s technically more new to her.

“you feel fucking good.” jinx starts moving, slowly pulling her hips back and sliding back in. she bites her lip with a grunt while your hands caress every ounce of her exposed skin. that compliment washes over you as a wave of desire, making your hands tighten on her waist.

your breathing starts getting faster and more laboured with every stroke, the roll of her hips against yours stimulating your pulsing aching clit. jinx, holding herself up by her forearms, let’s out grunts and moans into your parted mouth, making your tongue dive into her mouth in a heated kiss. the heat of your bodies cause you both to sweat and dampen the bedsheets, but neither of you notice.

jinx parts with a curse, stomach muscles jumping. the feeling of her moving inside you has you spreading your legs wider wanting to take her deeper—soft moans dripping from your swollen lips. giggling, you reach a hand up and brush some of jinx’s blue hair behind her ear, eyes watching her every expression of pleasure and storing it as memory for safe keeping in your brain. “you can go faster babe… harder…” you quietly suggest, running your lips across her faintly freckled cheek and placing a kiss beside her ear.

jinx huffs and smirks. her body buzzing with excitement at that confirmation, even though she had said in the beginning she would take it slow. she wastes no time and picks up the pace. this time pulling back and ramming back inside repeatedly rather than just the rolling of her hips that she had been mostly doing. this way makes you feel every inch of her leave and enter you, and the the squelch of both your combining slick to sound quietly in the small room.

the blue haired girl above you whimpers, fingers tightening around the pillow above your head—the hitch in your throat and the tight clench of your pussy makes her flutter her eyes open to look down at you. your saliva coated lips are parted in an “o” shape while your eyes have closed with furrowed brows, cheeks flushed and neck glistening with sweat. paired with your moans that get louder and more frequent, the sight is sure as hell one to behold in jinx’s opinion. although she’s technically seen it before, being able to actually feel you at the same time has her feeling like she’s even higher than cloud 9.

“ohh fuck, right there.. just like that..!” your moans get higher in pitch, nails now scratching up and down jinx’s back, hands tightening on her hips that show no mercy in holding back. jinx wants to scoff in sass but her face instead fills with pride and slight amusement. “you wanted me to go faster just for you, huh? so fuckin’ needy.” she rasps. she should’ve expected this from you, and she knows it was right of her to when she sees the toothy smirk spread across your flustered face. “maybe… jus’ wanted us t’ both feel good.” you finish lamely defending yourself with a close mouthed moan, gently tugging on her soft hair that’s been let loose. she looks so hot and pretty above you—hair down, face flushed and naked from the top down—her most vulnerable form.

“oh yea i’m sure you did.” jinx chuckles deeply. she spends the rest of her time in your neck occasionally planting hot kisses and mumbling sweet praises into your ear whenever she isn’t whining and moaning at the toe curling pleasure your pussy provides her. and when she gets close her hips stutter, breathes turning throaty while she curses. “shit! ‘m gonna cum. god…” her words trail off into incoherent babbles when her face pressed into the crook of your neck, body going tense above you.

you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge as well, bringing your hand into her hair while your arm cradles her head. the girl’s whines as her hips desperately rut against yours makes you melt in an odd sense of affection, full body heating up at knowing just how good you’re making her feel. “makin’ me feel so good, j. don’t stop..!”

and she doesn’t. not until you’re both moaning and whimpering messes in the sheets, even if that means having to sacrifice overstimulating herself a little when having to keep going to let you finish too. by the end of it, you’re both slumped against one another, sticky flesh against sticky flesh.

jinx sighs happily and lifts her head to gaze down at you with a lopsided grin. “we’re doing that again.”

[hysteria-things]

Reverse countertop scenario where instead of you getting eaten out while seated on the countertop, Matt gets sucked off 🫣

TEMPTATION (part one)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: one heated moment crosses between you and forbidden desire.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, slight size kink if you squint, oral (male receiving), subtle face slapping (he taps her on the cheek once), praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,766

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first dilf!matt fic of the collection :D

you’ve met matt through one of your mom’s work friends, who was talking about how her son needed a babysitter because of how busy his work has gotten. against your will, your mother gave you the job, saying that it’ll be a fun and new experience.

because you like kids, you genuinely didn’t mind. you’ve only been nannying for a few weeks now, and the routine isn’t that bad.

you drive to his house every weekday, arriving at seven on the dot. you wake up his five-year-old daughter (who is already fond of you) and make her breakfast along with getting her ready to drop her off at school.

she’s a cutie who looks a lot like her father—with his blue eyes and brunette hair—but she has a bubblier personality and is much more talkative. on the other hand, matt keeps to himself, and rarely says more than three sentences to you: “good morning.” “don’t forget to pack her lunch.” “see you later.”

on this particular day, a couple of hours after dropping his little girl off, you realized you had forgotten something at matt’s house. cursing to yourself when you notice, you drive back to sleuth your way into grabbing what you left and leaving.

however, when you walk through the door, a familiar figure is kneeling in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos and grunting as he’s fixing something under the sink.

you pause, genuinely surprised. he always leaves for work when you arrive at his place at your scheduled time. today, he hid from you upstairs the whole morning that you didn’t even acknowledge he was home. you stare at the gruff thirty-year-old for a few beats, not knowing if you should make yourself known or just sneakily retrieve your item and head back out.

so, instead, you swallow a lump in your throat, and start walking slowly to the living room hoping he doesn’t notice you. with the short weeks that you’ve been working for him, you’ve always felt intimidated by his presence. matt doesn't immediately catch on, but as he listens to footsteps getting closer to him, he perks up. he turns around, just in time to see you starting to walk toward the living room.

he raises a brow, his arms now crossed. “i thought you left already.”

jolting from his voice, you turn around to see him still in the kitchen by the island, but he’s gotten closer to you. “i-i forgot my wallet.” you stutter, scratching the back of your neck. “i’m sorry. i’ll get out of your hair when i grab it, i just didn’t know you stayed home today.”

he eyes you, looking up and down in silence for a second. he lets out a groan, not exactly happy that you're back here, but he's not angry. just… annoyed. “when did you realize you forgot your wallet?”

your face burns up when he looks at you like that, his eyes mesmerizing but also frightening at the same time. your anxiety rushes through your veins, fingers playing with the necklace around your neck to try and calm your nerves.

he’s just so intimidating.

“after i dropped evelyn off at school, but i didn’t have time to grab it until now.” you start, trying to not sound shaky. “she had a rough morning getting ready today, so i was scattering my stuff everywhere trying to help her get back on her little feet. i’m sorry again. i’ll leave the moment i grab it.”

matt lets out a frustrated sigh when he hears about his daughter having a morning like that. “i thought i heard the commotion from upstairs…” he trails off. he takes a moment to breathe and to think, looking you up and down again, trying to figure out why you're shaking. “you're nervous.”

“it was a weird morning.” you still fiddle with your necklace. “other than her tantrum, she was good.”

a huff escapes from his nose, still looking at your figure as he thinks. you’re so damn small compared to him. it's almost adorable in a way he won't admit to himself. “she had a tantrum this morning? why? what started it?”

looking around the room, you shrug. “it was typical friday stuff.” you say, still nervous that you’re talking to matt rather than hearing three sentences from him. “she didn’t want to get out of bed, then she didn’t like the clothes i picked, whined about how she didn’t want to go to school, then she started crying when i carried her backpack to the car when she wanted to carry it.” you think back to this morning before continuing. “we were also running late and that makes my brain a mess, hence why i forgot my wallet, but after a small pep talk when i strapped her into her car seat, she got better.”

the man nods as you explain the events from earlier. you were pretty, in his opinion—he was looking at you from head to toe. a thought seems to hit him, and he bites the inside of his cheek. his next sentence comes out in a much more gruff tone. “come here.”

your eyes grow wide as you blink at him, your heart rate picking up from nerves. “w-what?” you stammer.

letting out a soft sigh, he repeats himself. “you heard me. come. here.”

when you slowly start to walk over to him, you rub the sweat from your palms onto your jeans. you don’t get too close, but you’re not too far, either. he watches as you walk over, his eyes not leaving your body. the thought that he could easily pick you up with one arm in an instant makes him laugh internally. you stop about a foot or so in front of him, standing there with wide eyes. “closer.”

you put your shaky hands behind your back, shuffling even closer to him with a million thoughts running through your brain. did you do something wrong with evelyn? did you forget something important that you needed to bring to school for her? are you going to be fired for forgetting your stupid wallet?

matt’s eyes dart all over your face as you step closer, his jaw clenching for a moment as his eyes linger on yours, then your hair, your nose, your mouth, then your body again. you are so small. it’s very clear with the way you’re shaking and the anxiety clear on your face that you are nervous. “closer.” he says again, his eyes flicking to your necklace for a moment.

smirk tugs at his lips as you step closer, his eyes locked onto you. you’re now standing directly in front of him as he leans on the counter, his height is much more intimidating up close, but you can’t make yourself pull away. it’s like he has a magnetic pull, causing you to stare at him with awe.

he watches your every move and the way you tremble. “you’re shaking.”

“i-i just want to grab my wallet. if i interrupted something important, i’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

the chuckle in his throat is ticklish as you struggle to get any words out. “take a deep breath. calm down.”

surprised by what he said, you somehow listen and take a couple of deep breaths. well, he is the father to a toddler, after all. you’re sure he deals with a lot of temper tantrums that involve guidance in breathing. after a few inhales and exhales, you calm down just a smidge. “i’m sorry.”

matt watches as you finally start calming down, a slight sense of satisfaction washing over him as you do. he’s not exactly sure why, but he liked watching your shaky body slowly come together again. “you don’t need to keep apologizing, y/n.”

“sorry.” you reply, mentally punching yourself in the face when you say the word. “it’s a habit.”

although, your name rolling off of his tongue has between your legs tingle, but you try to blink away the dirty thoughts and ignore it.

he scoffs. you are so damn polite; it’s almost cute. “stop apologizing.” he orders, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his brows furrowing as his thumb grazes your lip. “how old did you say you are again?”

your breath hitches when he touches you, but instead of backing away, you stay put. your lashes bat in his direction as he continues to rub on your bottom lip. “twenty-one.” you exhale, as if you were holding your breath this entire time.

“you’re such a pretty young thing.” he whispers, hand moving down to your throat as he gently kneads at the flesh. “you must be so innocent still.”

grunting when he squeezes at your neck, you subconsciously glance down at his groin, where you can see his growing hard-on. your eyes widen, chest heaving and licking your lips. the pooling in the middle of your thighs only escalates, clenching them together.

this is your boss, y/n. stop.

“do you trust me?” he blurts out, a smirk growing wider once he notices you staring. he has you right where he wants you: at his mercy.

“yes.” and that’s true.

he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, leaning into where your noses are touching. “lift your leg.”

complying, his hand reaches under your thigh when you raise your leg to rest on his hips. you gasp, feeling his bulge rub against your clothed clit. he grinds against you swiftly. “you feel that? that’s what you do to me; every single time i see you.”

“fuck.” you exhale, subconsciously rutting your hips more into him to feel more friction.

“dirty girl.” he whispers, one of his hands reaching up to squeeze your breast while the other that’s resting on your thigh moves to the waistband of your pants. “do you want me to touch you here?”

you throw your head back, nipples peeking at his touch. “please.”

matt groans, leaning down to nip at that spot below your ear. a high-pitched whine leaves your lips, his fingers slipping under your panties. the pad of his pointer rubs at your bud, and you moan softly. he keeps leaving wet kisses on your jaw, toying at your clit. “so fucking wet.”

you keep moaning, clenching around nothing when he plays with you faster. this plus the rubbing of his dick against you makes you want more, but you fight it off. he removes his hand after a few seconds, leaving you aching before bringing his fingers to his lips. he laps at your juices, humming approvingly.

then, his eyes darken, voice extra demanding. “get on your knees.”

while you’re getting on your knees, the pumping of your heart is the only thing you seem to hear, matt starting to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. as you patiently wait, he unloosens it and his pants drop to his ankles along with his boxers. your mouth waters at what’s in front of you, being put under matt’s make-believe spell. he’s big—really big—and you can’t help but stare at it longingly.

tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he smiles a genuine smile. “open your mouth; good girl.” he cups both of your cheeks, sliding his cock agonizingly slow between your lips. he lets out a long groan the more his inches fill your mouth until you gag once his tip nudges at the back of your throat.

“awe.” he coos, wiping some drool at the sides of your lips with his thumb. “that’s not even all of it.”

you bob your head, moaning around his length at how good he feels in your mouth. slurps and gags continue when you go faster.

he grunts and hisses at your sudden change of speed. “ah, slow, slow.” he fists your hair and taps you on the cheek, causing you to wince and stop. “i said slow.”

matt hasn’t had his dick sucked since his ex, which had to have been over a year ago. hell, he hasn’t had sex since her. he was getting sick of his hand doing the pleasure for him, but the warmth of your mouth is a reminder that you’re here.

your eyes tear up when he lets go of your hair, the stinging there for a few seconds before you move again, this time at the slow pace he requested. he nudges your head up, forcing you to look at him through your lashes as you resume to suck him off.

“that’s it.” he exhales with a moan, back pinned against the countertop. “good girl, listening to everything i say.”

he licks his teeth as he stares down at you, your doe eyes going into his soul as you’re stuffed full with his cock. if only he had his phone nearby, he would take a picture of this.

it’s quiet, except for his groaning and the wet sounds. his mouth is agape, his dick disappearing in and out of those plump lips. deep down, he thinks he’s using you to get off, but little does he know, you wanted this as much as he did. it’s like he wants this image engraved into his mind forever.

without even realizing it, you start to bob your head faster again, gulping more of his cock in the process.

“mmph, fuck, wait.” he pants, voice getting higher when his dick twitches. “s-slow down. slow, slow—” he lets out a long groan, grabbing the back of your head to move it down to his pelvis. you gag for the last time, his cum shooting down your throat all at once. you relax your jaw, making his seed easier to swallow. “so fucking good. such a good girl.” he pants again.

when he pushes you off, you cough as you try to catch your breath from being able to breathe again. matt’s still looking at you, but this time with his original stone-cold demeanor. his eyes flick over to the stove clock. “it’s 2:45 now. you should probably start getting ready to grab evelyn soon.”

with that, he pulls up his undergarments, zips them, and walks away.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

matt’s seen walking towards the front door through the window of the white picket-fenced home when you park the car, and you take a shaky exhale. seeing him after what happened makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, but you don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way.

because, well, you enjoyed what you two did. a lot.

after another short breath, you get out of the driver's seat to open the back door. avoiding matt forever is impossible, so you’ll just have to toughen up and deal with it.

evelyn’s kicking excitedly, the top straps unbuckled already when you reach to undo the bottom half of her car seat. just as she hops down onto the driveway, the front door opens as if on queue.

of course, she leaves her backpack and the little mermaid water bottle behind as she bolts to her father. “daddy! daddy!” you hear her squeal excitedly, closing and locking the car doors once you grab her school stuff.

matt scoops up evelyn with ease and kisses her on the head. he smiles down at his daughter, asking her a whole bunch of questions about the school day. he nods and pipes in here and there to keep the conversation flowing as his little girl rambles on. you notice how matt gets when he sees evelyn, and his demeanor completely changes. he’s happy and engaged, eyes showing the love he has for her. it’s so fucking adorable.

“what do you want for dinner, missy?” matt asks, adjusting her in his arms when she starts to slip.

you silently watch the interaction, not wanting to ruin their moment as evelyn brings her finger up to her chin to think. it takes her a few seconds, but she says something along the lines of ‘the dinner of champions.’

“dino nuggets and mac and cheese?” he questions with a quirked brow. “but you had that last night.”

evelyn puts her hands together and pouts, giving him the best puppy dog eyes she can muster. unfortunately for her father, that trick will always work on him.

he sighs, setting her down. “i suppose so…”

“can y/n stay for dinner?” evelyn tugs at matt’s pants as she pleads. “pretty please?”

you hesitate with your answer, because you don’t know what’s in store if you stay longer than usual. “oh, i don’t—”

“you should.” matt quirks a brow, turning to face you. “it will be fun, yeah?”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[fluoneia]

further continuation of pitfighter!vi | part 1 | part 2

sypnosis. vi left an impression on you more then you thought she did. but, you left even more of an impression on her. and you can’t control a feeling like that, can you?

warnings. dom!vi, lowkey hate sex, use of a strap on, lots o angst !! (in the beginning), uhh i tweaked the timeline a lot so this doesn’t exactly follow everything going on. bear w me!

damn.

you were surprised vi stayed true to her word. it was two months since she initially left. you tried to move on with your life, forget her, and try to remember that she was with that someone that she mentioned.

if she stayed, that means she’s happy. right?

right?

stupid feelings. truth was, you wanted her to come back. she wasn’t just any other client to you at this point.

god, how did you get yourself into this mess? you vowed to not get involved with a client. yet, here you were.

“you seem distracted.” your friend, and co-worker says while she combs through your hair. you’d gotten close to her over the past two months, her being your only viable source of comfort in the moment.

you frown as you look into the mirror.

“it’s nothing.” you shake your hand, glancing down to your hands.

“are you sure?” asta cocked a brow as she placed the comb down. “come on. you’re acting so weird lately.”

you run your thumb over the indents of your palm, following your fingers.

“well..” you start, “i.. there was a client. around two months ago. she was..” you snort, “different, that’s for sure.”

“.. okay..” asta looks into space as she thought.

“she told me she wasn’t coming back— that she couldn’t. her heart was taken by this enforcer girl. said she couldn’t give her up.”

asta is quiet for a second. you turn to look at her. “.. so, what i’m getting from this, is you’re getting your heart involved in a client you took twice.”

“what?” your back straightens. “no! no, my heart isn’t involved, i’m just.. curious. that’s all.”

“uh-huh, okay.” asta snorts with a roll of her eye. “who is this, anyway?”

“oh, uh.. her name is vi.”

asta’s eyes widen so far her eyebrows shoot up. “the fucking vi? as in the vi everyone here hates?”

“i guess so.” you frown.

“hah! no way you’re falling for that little sadistic fuck.”

“asta!” i cry.

“i mean, seriously, y/n! she’s no good, especially for you.”

“i’m a whore in the undercity. i’m not exactly amazing.”

“still, though. i can’t believe you wound up having to take her as a client twice, i mean, are you alright after that?”

you glare. then, you smile at the memory. “actually..” you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “you’d be surprised. it’s not just her that got to take control.”

“you.. vi? being submissive? oh, you’re crazy.”

“crazy good.” you snort, pushing off your chair. “besides, i’m not falling for her.”

“yeah. sure you aren’t.”

“i mean, i can’t, anyways. i’ve already made that mistake before and i’m not about to make it again. my heart is never being involved with my clients ever again.”

asta takes a second to respond. then, she says, “you know, sometimes it isn’t all that bad.” she shrugs. “i met my husband through this business.”

“it does more harm then good. plus, aren’t you two having problems because of the job that you met in?”

“well.. kind of. but still.” she places a hand on my shoulder, “not everything in your life has to be dictated because of what you do as a job to survive. it’s rare you feel a connection with your clients, right? especially you.”

“i don’t have a connection with her.”

“you keep telling yourself that.” asta chuckles, “that’s what i said about my husband before he started courting me.”

“whatever!” i cry, pushing her hand off me. “i have a client.”

“don’t go imaging it’s vi!”

“ugh, shut up asta!”

a week later, you’d made up your mind. obviously, vi wasn’t going to come back. it’d be best for you to just move on.

your hands tighten around eachother.

so damn stupid. you were so damn stupid. your feelings were so damn stupid— she went to you out of convenience, nothing more.

she was under the influence, on a sex drug nonetheless. you went too far with her. you never should have given in to her pleads in the first place.

“come on, slow-poke.”

you still.

“slow-poke is a bit cocky for you to say. i recall you saying i was moving too fast, when i tried to—“

“okay, are we seriously talking about that right now?”

you’d recognize that voice anywhere. it was haunting your thoughts for the past two months.

and you don’t dare lift your head. you feel your breath pick up as you glance forward.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on her. on vi. what the hell was she doing here?

without another thought, you flick your hood over your head. your body curls in on yourself, staring at your feet as you walk forward, moving past her.

“you used to be all over me,” a posh, matter-of-fact voice says. “now, you can barely even look at me.”

“we’re on a mission, caitlyn. we’re not talking about our relationship right now.”

her voice becomes louder as you grow near.

“when will we?”

“soon! just.. just not now.” vi grumbled.

you try to ignore the warmth in your skin as you knock shoulders with her as you pass.

“hey! watch where you’re going—“

vi stops herself as you glance over your shoulder.

you watch as her eyes flicker, the redness seeping into her skin as she flushed.

“wha.. y/n?” she says in almost a whisper.

your eyes glide toward the girl beside her. a pretty woman, with sharp features and rich, navy hair, tied into a ponytail. she held herself so well.

no wonder vi was so enveloped in her.

vi feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. she glances toward caitlyn, who gives you a weird look as you stare at her.

what. the. fuck.

that’s all vi can think.

her eyes flicker between you and caitlyn.

vi watched as you slip the hood off your head. you bring your head up with an inhale, forcing a strong front.

“.. hey, vi. funny seeing you here.” you say in that soft tone that’s been haunting her thoughts and her dreams for months since you’ve been apart.

“you know this girl?” caitlyn says as she stares at you. you glance toward caitlyn, brows furrowing. she stared at you like you were filth— and you probably were, body being tainted by the hundreds of hands that have touched the most vulnerable of all— your body.

vi swallows. “yea.. yes, um—“ she closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “old friend.”

old friend? really?

you glare at her.

“can i, um.. can i have a second to talk to her? alone?”

vi’s hand rests on caitlyns shoulder. her skin looked so soft— so clean.

you try to ignore the flame of jealousy in your chest as caitlyn’s hand rests atop of vi’s, before nodding her head once.

“don’t take long.” caitlyn lets her hands drop to her sides. vi gives a small nod, shoulders relaxing as caitlyn steps back, moving out of earshot.

and then she turns to you.

“i thought you said you were never coming back.” you frown as your arms cross on your chest.

“this isn’t me coming back.” vi says curtly. “we’re on a mission.”

“a mission? are you some sort of enforcer now?”

vi says nothing.

you freeze.

“you.. you’re an enforcer.”

“temporarily.” vi raises a hand, “it’s not anything to do with—“

“just go.” you spit. “an enforcer from zaun. it’s not an honour to be labelled that, violet. you’re a pawn in whatever plan they’ve conjured up.”

“it’s a plan to help zaun.” vi says in a whisper as she glances at someone passing. she winced. “can we talk about this elsewhere? preferably not in an open alleyway?”

your eyes shift to the caitlyn girl she treasures so much. she’s staring at the two of you.

“or we could just not talk.” you push off the wall you’d been resting on, “continue on with your mission. you have no use of me, by the looks of it.”

“actually, i do. someone we’re looking for passed through babettes brothel, and we need a—“

“i’m not helping you with this.” you shake your head. “find another worker there to interrogate.”

“y/n.” vi says firmly.

“stop saying my name like that.” you narrow your eyes. “just because you were my client doesn’t entitle me to help you with your stupid investigation. you were a client to many there— ask them.”

“i was more then just a client and you know it.”

her face tightens with anger.

“not really,” you tut your tongue, “you paid, and i gave. nothing more.”

“you can’t be serious.” her hand finds your arm, and she leans closer, glancing around. “you took my virginity. that’s not nothing.”

“you were hardly a virgin when we first met.”

“yeah, not in.. that sense, i wasn’t.”

you hated that she was right. virginity was a prized thing for most people— hell, you used to hold principles like saving your virginity for marriage. and now, look where you were.

but, much like other people, you never forgot your first. a boy from piltover— you were young and naive, much like violet.

“i should have never done that.” you shake your head, “that was too far of me.”

vi’s eyes soften. she glances back at caitlyn, before looking to you. she steers you away, moving out of eyeshot.

“it’s not that i.. regret it. if that makes any difference.”

you huff.

“you said you weren’t coming back. yet, here you are.” you gesture.

“for a different reason.” she tightens her grip on my arm, “come on. help me with this investigation and i’ll leave you alone. for good.”

but that isn’t what you wanted. you didn’t want her to leave— you didn’t want her to be her right now, with her new prized girlfriend, but she was still here. you hated how your heart jumped with glee at that fact.

you inhale a deep breath, clenching your jaw.

“fine. i’ll help you.”

vi exhaled in relief. “thank you.” she whispers. her hand loosens on your shoulder, before slowly slipping off, her fingers trailing over your skin.

“what’s the big deal, anyways?” you furrow my brows.

“cait will tell you everything.” she cocks her head behind her. you nod your head, and follow her as you walk back to caitlyn. it hit you that she was tall, and it made her even more menacing— towering over you with a mean look on her face. you couldn’t tell if that was just her face, or she just didn’t like you. probably both.

“so she’ll help, then?” caitlyn says, turning to vi.

vi nods. “yeah.”

“i can’t promise i’ll actually be of help to you.” you cross my arms on your chest. “just because i agreed to tell you what i know doesn’t mean it’ll be any use.”

“worth a shot, right?” vi shrugs. i give her a brief nod.

“we can’t talk about this here.” caitlyn says.

you sigh. “we can go back to my house. it’s just ‘round the block. but again— i only have an hour.”

they give a nod of agreement. you inhale a deep breath, before paving a way back toward your house.

suddenly, you felt unconscious about your living space. you hadn’t cleaned it, and there was no doubt clothes left on the floor, leaving it a mess. you mentally curse yourself as you unlock the door, pushing it open.

“make yourselves comfortable.” you mumble, kicking some clothes out the way.

vi doesn’t take another glance at the house as she walks inside, following behind you. caitlyn hesitates, looking around the messy room, before following suit.

i grab a glass of water, jumping up onto my counter.

“alright. so, what did you need me for, exactly?” i look to caitlyn.

caitlyn slowly turns her head toward you. “oh— yes, um..” she clears her throat, obviously distracted. “a few days ago, someone passed through the brothel you work at.”

she fumbles through her bag. your eyes glance toward vi, who leans against the counter parallel to you, crossing her arms on her chest. the blue outfit just looked so.. off on her, yet, she still held herself the same.

she didn’t seem that bothered by the mess— partly because she’s seen it before, and partly because she’d already been in your house, in your bed—

stop it.

caitlyn places a sheet of paper on the island. i pick it up.

“have you seen this girl?”

your eyes move around the paper. you had seen this girl before— quite an oddball, but she was funny. blue hair, tied into long braids. your eyes train on the JINX — PILTOVER, WANTED.

“uh.. yeah.” you nod. you’d never expect her to be a wanted criminal, but who wasn’t down in the lanes?

“how? where did you see her last?” caitlyn says. there’s a gleam in her eyes as she leans closer.

“well.. maybe two or three days ago she came around the brothel during my shift. she was a client.”

vi pushes off the table abruptly. “you took my sister as a client?!” she stalks toward you.

“well, yeah.” you shrug. your eyes widen as you realize. “we.. no, she didn’t want anything.” uou chuckle at the memory, “she just wanted to talk.”

vi seems to calm down, her shoulders slouching. you give her a brief look, before turning to caitlyn.

“she.. i don’t know why she came to a brothel to just have a chat, but she isn’t the first one to do that. it’s honestly not that weird for clients to just want to talk like normal people when they have no one else.”

“i didn’t give it that much thought. i don’t remember much about her.”

you glare at vi. “not that it’d be any of your business what happens with my clients.”

vi puffs a breath of air through her nose, ripping her gaze away from you. she didn’t understand why she was so.. so jealous, so riled up over the memory that you still worked at the brothel, that you still took clients, that other people were touching you.

she had no right to be possessive, yet, here she was.

“.. anyway.” caitlyn clears her throat, brows furrowing as she senses the tension between you and vi, “what can you tell me about her? did she say anything about where she was going?”

you shake your head. “we talked for the hour she paid for, then she left. that was it. i didn’t see where she went.”

caitlyn sighs in frustration. vi looks to her, “this was a big waste of time.”

“it was the only lead we had.” caitlyn pushes off the wall. “if we ask some of the other workers, they’ll probably have seen the direction she went.”

“at this point we’ll miss the last departure. it’s too long of a walk back to piltover if we want to be safe.”

“we can’t leave while the trail is hot! if we wait another day, it’s just another night wasted.”

you h ump off the counter. “just stay here.” you place your glass in the sink, “i have a guest bedroom.”

that was a horrible idea.

it was like your mouth was on autopilot as you say this— stuck on the fact that if vi left now, you’d never see her again. it was stupid if you to offer, yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

caitlyn glances toward you. then to vi. she raises her eyebrows as if to say, “well?”

oh, and vi was even more stuck. seeing you again drove her crazy— much less sleeping in the same house again. no doubt it’d grab at her head, keeping her awake at the last memory in this very house.

her chest puffed as she tried to regulate her breath. she wasn’t sure if she could handle herself in such close proximity to you again. it’d surely drive her mad.

but, she too was stuck on the fact that this might be the last time she saw you.

so, vi nods. “sure.” she chokes. her voice is tight as she avoids her eyes, glancing down at her feet.

you huff at the memory of your shift.

“the guest bedroom is just down the hall. make yourselves comfortable.” you move past them, shoulder grazing with vi’s— on purpose, on accident, you couldn’t tell. “i’ll be back soon.”

you still as you see caitlyn move out of the kitchen, glancing around. once she was out of earshot, you back up a few steps.

“oh, and, vi?” you lean closer to her, moving to her ear. “try to control yourself. i can sense your tension from a mile away.” you rest your hand on vi’s shoulder. “if you want me to take care of that.. another time, yeah?”

you pull away without another word, giggling under your breath. you pat vi’s shoulder as you slip away, grabbing your coat and bringing it around your shoulders.

and as you close the door, you leave vi’s head in utter shambles again.

she stands in the same spot, mind processing your words.

try to control herself? after you’ve just said that, and you’re looking like the most beautiful women she’s laid her eyes on?

fat chance.

she’ll get you eventually.

you were released early from your shift, as the night was slow. you kind of dreaded getting back to your apartment, knowing both vi and caitlyn were there.

you wanted to help them. honestly. but you werent sure what would.

your mind recalled the memory of that jinx girl.

you remembered you tried to advance on her— assuming that’s what she wanted, like many other clients. but she stopped you.

she surely wasn’t well. rambling on about life and death, about family, and about how no one can be trusted, and all that.

and after that, she disappeared as soon as she payed. you turned to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

you huff as you open your apartment door, slipping your coat off your shoulders. you hear laughing from your living room, and walk toward it.

as you turn the corner, you see caitlyn and vi laughing together.

“vi, i’m serious!”

you linger in the background as you watch them.

“i mean, the look on my fathers face. he couldn’t believe it at first.”

“well, you won’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”

your face tightens as you watch her place her head on caitlyns shoulder. she spins a pen in her hand.

“i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”

you decide to leave it alone there.

you step back, running a hand over your neck. so she was happy. you grimace as you walk down the hall, entering your bathroom.

“stupid.” you’d whisper to yourself.

here you thought you had vi wrapped around your finger. but really, you were wrapped around hers.

asta was right, anyway. she was no good for you, and you were no good for her. she was right in the fact that your heart was involved. it was involved tenfold.

you were stupid to ever think that you and vi had a chance.

you were a whore from the undercity. she’s an enforcer now.

nonetheless, she was still from the undercity. she was still a zaunite, just like you.

you strip yourself of your clothes. you step into your steaming shower, and let the water run over your body, your hair.

you close your eyes as you try to drown out your thoughts.

it wasn’t until midnight you left your bathroom.

the house was quiet. you deemed that they had gone to sleep, and move toward your room.

you throw on one of your favourite sets— a gift from a reoccurring piltover client from when you used to work there. you loved the silk texture, the white pearly fabric.

and since you hadn’t eaten much today, you move toward your kitchen.

you huff as you walk down the hallway, quiet against the hardwood floor. you grab your glass from the sink, turning on the tap.

“y/n.” a voice says behind you. you jump, spinning around.

“oh. it’s just you.” you sigh in relief as your eyes land on the familiar black of her hair. vi sauntered toward you, leaning against the counter.

“i.. i had a question.” vi whispers. her voice is laced with sleep— she had stayed up to talk to you. alone, finally.

you stare at your hands as you pour the water down the sink, picking up a bag of pretzels. “and what’s that?”

vi bit her tongue. then, she spoke. “what did you mean, before?”

you furrow your brows.

“when you said.. if you want me to take care of that.” vi shuffles. “you said, another time.”

you still. youd forgotten youd said that— mostly to test the waters around her.

“what did you think i meant?” you hum, placing a pretzel on your tongue. you lean your hip against the counter parallel to her.

vi says nothing.

“look— if you’re gonna act clueless, whatever.” you scoff. “but don’t rope me into something that’ll just cause a mess.”

you turn away from her.

as you move, your stopped by a hand on your wrist. she yanks you backward, your back landing harshly on her chest.

you gasp.

“i don’t really care if it causes a mess.”

you feel her breath on your shoulder. her hand smooths over your hip, pulling you against her.

“you’ve been messing with me ever since we bumped into eachother in that alleyway.”

you stare harshly at the wall in front of you. her thumb dips into the fabric of your shorts, resting it there.

“and you show up in these little shorts and expect me to contain myself?”

you feel her lips against your ear.

“what’s with the sudden switch up?” you say breathily, head leaning against her shoulder.

“you know what you’re doing.” violet scoffs against your ear. you feel your skin blaze alight as she presses her lips to your neck. you feel her tongue glide across your skin.

“violet.” you say harshly. you’re not sure how you feel about the sudden change in the air— vi wasn’t the girl she was last time she was here, no, she was how she was in the brothel the first night you met.

this girl really did give you whiplash.

“this is wrong.” you say, hand placing over the hand on your hip. despite your words, you lean into her touch. “aren’t you with caitlyn?”

vi stills for a second at caitlyn’s name. “one more night can’t hurt.”

“that’s what i thought the last time we met.” you hum, leaning into her touch. “one more night.”

vi spun you around, stalking forward, pushing you back until your back hit the counter. her arms caged around you, her eyes so dark, so unrecognizable.

all night, vi had been thinking about how you’re working your shift, having other people touch you. all night, she thought about you.

all she wanted right now was to distinguish herself from the others— to prove to you that unlike all the others, she cared. she cared for your pleasure, she cared for you, despite her mind screaming at her that she shouldn’t.

another wave of jealousy washes over her. she leans closer, hands gliding over your stomach, pushing up the silk shirt.

“you remember how you said to stop thinking so much around you?” vi says with a smirk, nose touching eachothers, her lips parted. you feel her breath on your skin, her hands on your stomach. they truly did feel warm, so calming, so right, unlike the others who have touched you there. you didn’t feel violated under vi’s touch, you felt.. comforted. it gave you a chance to actually feel the pleasure of another persons hand, rather then focusing on giving pleasure.

her hand splays against your back. her lips were so close to yours, merely one movement away. you wanted nothing more then to feel them again.

“that’s what i’m doing.” vi says, voice husky. “cmon.” she gives a toothy smile. “don’t leave me hanging here, cupcake.”

and it’s like everything changed.

your face closes to a deadpan. you push her off, slamming your fists on her chest.

“wha..” vi gives you a look of confusion.

“you’re so.. arrogant!” you lower your voice as you remember caitlyn is still there— the same caitlyn that vi had said that same nickname too a mere few hours ago. “and stupid!”

“what the hell are you talking about?” vi’s brows furrow.

“that nickname.” you spit. “you’d dare to call me that after using it on caitlyn?”

her mind recalls the memory.

i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.

her eyes widen. truth was, she was thinking about you when she said that. she said it because she’s your dirt underneath your nails. she came, and now she’s never going to leave, like a thorn in your side.

“really?” vi deadpans. “that’s what you’re worked up about?”

you purse your lips.

she lets out a chuckle that only fuels your anger. she takes a step toward you, before lowering her voice.

“i knew you were listening.” vi explained, “i was saying that to you.”

you still.

“though, this jealous side of you is kind of cute.”

“shut up.”

“just saying. now, can you stop throwing a fit? kind of holding myself back here.”

“ugh, shut up!” you cry before you grab her face, crashing your lips against hers. vi stilled for a second, taken aback, but she feels a rush of passion flow through her body.

her hands are on you in an instant— clawing, grabbing at your clothes so roughly. her lips are just as you remembered; soft. yet this time, they held a sense of dominance unlike the last time you kissed her.

she hummed against you. and you feel so much.. anger, hatred, jealousy, desire. vi was enjoying this way too much, and you hated that.

you feel her hands on your hips once more, her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. you give it by pushing your tongue past her lips, her own finding yours as they tangle and dance for a sense of dominance— to see which way will overtake.

but vi leaves no room for argument. her fingers dig into the skin on your thighs. you squeal as your brought from the floor, her hands holding you up as she picks you up.

your legs dangle loosely around her torso, hand smoothing into her hair, pulling, tugging, holding on so she’s forced to never leave.

you didn’t really know where you were going, but now, you were moving. her tongue glided through your mouth, running along your teeth, your tongue, your gums, everywhere, forcing herself through every part of your mouth until there was nothing left.

and oh, did you miss this feeling.

this feeling of passion, of lust, of desire. this feeling of recklessness. you both know you shouldn’t be doing this— but who can stop desire?

you realize she had guided you to your room when you feel your back hit the fur of your bedspread. she pressed herself between your legs, pulling away from you.

“fuck..” she whispered under her breath, hands smoothing up your stomach, cupping your barely clothed breasts.

“don’t talk.” you loose out, grabbing her face again and pulling her lips back onto yours. she takes that as an understanding, fingers unhooking every button oh so slowly.

you lift yourself off the bed to tear the shirt off your shoulders, throwing it to the side.

vi’s eyes flicker as she pulls away, looking at your body. her eyes land on your budding breasts. just so fucking beautiful. every bit and piece of you was perfect in violets eyes, and she hated how she felt that way.

“i missed you.” she whispers, both forgetting and ignoring your demand of silence. she pulls away, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. clothes fly in a haste, leaving you both naked in mere minutes— well, you naked. she kept her bandages on.

you can’t help the next thing you say. “missed me or missed my body?” you huff, sitting up on your elbows.

vi’s brows furrow. her nose twitches, before she crashed her lips back against yours without a word.

ah. got it. you’d think.

whatever. you shouldn’t have expected much with a hookup.

truth was, vi didn’t know. she didn’t know if her actions were based off purely lust, or something else. she tried not to think about it much— she couldn’t think much, anyways. you were just so soft, so beautiful.

her hands smooth over your body, and you were so drunk on her touch you decided not to care about anything else. her hands, touching you, possessing every part of you.

vi’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, onto your neck. you relish in the feel of her tongue, of her teeth scraping against your skin. her hands, smoothing over your thigh, toying with the strand of your panties. you feel your mouth go agape as her tongue glides over your neck, leaving red splotches, marking you.

you gasp as you feel her hands quiver over your clothed core, pressing so gently it made you whine. she was toying you, being so gentle when she knew you wanted her to be rough.

“don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

you couldn’t process her words— not when her fingers slipped underneath the cloth and dipped into your slick. your head throws back, a jolt of pleasure ripping all throughout your body. a shock to your nerves— finally, a touch that was pleasurable.

“oh, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

your brows furrowed. what the hell was she talking about?

you let your mind fog again when her fingers dip inside of you, pressing so deep. you gasp, feeling your skin grow ablaze, the ache in your stomach only growing. you grasp onto the bedsheets, shocked at how fast this was moving— ten minutes ago, you were accepting the loss of whatever this relationship was. now you were thinking, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“you’re gonna feel everything i felt that night.”

she says this so close to your ear. you feel her breath on the shell of your ear, her teeth nipping at your skin.

“though, you won’t be under a drug like i was. i’ll just have to make up for that.”

her fingers press up as if to further move her point. you let your eyes close, body leaning toward her, hips pressing against her wrist.

“where do you keep those things, hm?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, eyes slowly opening to look at her.

“you know,” she leaned closer. oh god, her eyes. that smirk. you were done for.

your brows furrow as you thought. her fingers slipped out of you, causing you to frown at the loss of her touch.

she ran a hand through her hair as she looked around, before reaching over you to open a drawer. your eyes catch on the glimpse of her bicep, a glimpse of the tattoo that ran down her back. gods, it only turned you on further.

“ah.” she says. you’d hear her fumble with something before moving back to you.

and your eyes shift to the thing in her hand.

one of the strap ons you owned— and never used, just by the sheer size of it. black, girthy, and big.

“nonono, violet—“you back away from her. she could not use that one, not now.

“oh, yes.”

there’s a certain gleam in her eyes as her hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer to you.

“told you.” she says as she leans back, fumbling with the straps. “i’m gonna get you back.”

you were in for it now.

for someone who’d never used a strap on before, you were pleasantly shocked.

you’d moan into your pillow as her hips slam against yours, over and over and over again. her hand smoothed over your back, pressing it down so your hips pushed up.

you’d never felt this.. this good, this full.

your entire body shook, every bone weak and practically useless. it took everything in you to hold yourself up, to not pull away from her, from her hips.

“oh—“ you groan, “vi!” you’d lost yourself, suddenly not caring about your voice. once vi realized that, she dragged her hand under to your chest, pulling you flush against her.

her hand moved over your mouth, silencing your cries.

at the new angle, she only pushed deeper.

your eyes widen, every nerve, every muscle twitching and shaking with pleasure. you couldn’t handle it, you simply couldn’t.

“not so tough now, huh?” she huffed, her voice out of breath and tight. you feel her being her hips back, just barely, before pushing back into you with such force you felt tears well into your eyes.

how could one woman have this much stamina?

you’d lost count at the amount of climax’s she’s brought you to.

she abruptly pulled out of you, flipping you over, pressing your back against the bed. it was like your body was drained of any sort of will— her strength easily able to manhandle you in every way she could, every position she wanted you in.

she placed herself back inbetween your legs. you saw that smirk on her face, so cocky and confident.

you couldn’t form words to comment something about it.

she brushed her hand over her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“i kind of like this.” she said breathily as she lowered her hand, aligning the tip of the silicone cock to your hole. as you feel her push back inside you, you let out a damned scream.

she’s quick to cover it, lips pressing against yours to silence your cries.

your legs touched either side of the bed, her hands pinning them down. your hips ached at the stretch— your core ached at the raw stretch the strap-on gave you, and as she pressed further deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

“god, oh, i— fuck!” you cry against her lips, hands gripping so hard on her back, nails digging into her skin, leaving crescent marks on her shoulders.

“shh, shh..” she hushed, hand smoothing across your thigh as a sense of comfort, yet, it only riled you up more.

she was so deep, so insanely deep— somewhere surely no one’s ever touched before.

“wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would you?” she’d taunt, “see you in this position..”

her hips pull back, before bullying her way back into you, at such a slowed, tedious pace— to mess with you, no doubt.

you didn’t care. you didn’t care for anything— you couldn’t, not after this. you were sure you’d never felt anything like it— it was even better then the first night at the brothel.

“i— i can’t—“ you’d cry, head pushing into the pillow to hide your face. you just.. felt so fulfilled.

“oh yes, you can.” she mumbles, eyes flickering over every expression you’d made, engraving it in her mind.

her hips were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. her body pressed against your chest, her hands moving to grip onto the pillow on either side of your head.

“oh, fuck.” she said so softly, wincing as she felt the pressure against her own clit. then, her hips pulled back, and slammed right back into you. she found out, in this new position, it also gave her pleasure.

with how sensitive she was, even the short amount of pressure could help the ache between her legs.

a gleam found her eyes.

her pace became faster, harder, like a damned piston jolting inside of you.

you bite hard into your lip, hands falling limp and falling on either side of you.

“a little longer, princess..” she huffed into your ear. “come on, you can take it.”

“no, i—!” you cry, legs clamping around her torso. “mmmph—“

“just..” she let out a sharp exhale, adjusting her hips so the base hit her clit just right. she moaned into your ear, eyes rolling back, and the sight was just so damn beautiful.

you feel the cord in your stomach grow hot, your body shaking with every thrust she made.

at this rate, you weren’t sure how much you could handle— it was too much vi, so much vi, you were going to go mad. vi, vi, vi.

“oh, vivivi—“ you whined, your body riling itself up, again and again, over and over, each thrust bringing you closer to the familiar taste of an orgasm.

you were scared. scared of the feeling, of the pure pleasure that coursed through your body each and every time. scared of that feeling, of that blinding— oh, god!

your eyes shut closed, your legs clamped around her as that familiar snap of your orgasm flooded through you.

“say my name.”

“v..” you attempted. and then, you deflate against the matress. “vio..”

“come on, you can do it.”

her hips were relentless, forcing you through your orgasm. your body aches with overstimulation, threatening to burst with each and every second.

“say my name.” she says it more directly, nearly damn demanding you to. her voice is a growl against your ear, her hips picking up in pace.

“oh, violet!” you cry, voice cracking.

vi let out a loud moan, her head pressing against your neck, whining against your skin.

and then, she deflated above you.

your body jolts and shakes with every flow of energy, every flow of pleasure. you were so fulfilled, so full, finally getting what your body had been aching for, begging for.

a proper fuck.

a proper fuck from vi.

you had vi. and that was all you needed, even if it was only for the times being.

you yelp as she flips you over, resting you on her chest. she pressed her hips deeper inside of you, and you gasp.

“n.. no! no, no more.” you cry, your head falling against her chest.

“don’t worry.” she says as she caged her arms around you, hands resting tightly on your waist. her hands run up your back. “i won’t push you.”

you let out a sigh of relief.

you fell into a silence.

it was hard for your body to recover from your orgasms when the strap-on was still inside you, pressing into that spot. with every shift she made, you felt your body rile up again.

a beat of silence.

another.

you hear your click tick. you feel her chest go up and down with her breath. you hear her heart beat.

.

.

“i missed you.”

she says this so softly. her arms tighten around your torso, her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“not your body.”

a/n. uh.. hey.. sorry this took so long LOL anyway this kid kind of rushed i apologize and it kind of sucks but blushes thank u for all the support on this little mini saga that stemmed off a one shot 🤗

taglist. @just-levyy @princesssmars @thesevi0lentdelights @kissyslut @devotedlyelectronicartisan @cheyisagirlkisser @maracujais @n1shuu @vivispace @elliecoochieeater @izu-lu @wanna1be0 @honeybunbunnie @yariany02 @dumblilb @lalalalal16 @vyvvycg @ayooooohush @slvtformilfs @the-disaster-in-waiting (some of ur tags didn’t work im sorry :( )

[venic-bxtch]

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ Meet-Cute ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼Joe Burrow x Ambitious!reader✼

Based on this ask: Hi! Can I request a JB fic where the girl isn’t much interested in the NFL and really focused on work or maybe finding work and then meets Joe. Like their meet cute and him pining for her if that’s okay? Thank you

⭒❃.✮:▹ A/N: LOVEEEEE, this idea🫶🏾

Warnings: none…just fluff as fluffy as a marshmallow!!!

She wasn’t like the other people at the gym. Joe could tell that the second he spotted her on the treadmill, jogging like she was on a mission, earbuds firmly in, completely ignoring everything and everyone.

He wasn’t used to being ignored. People usually gave him a double-take or tried to sneak a photo. But she didn’t even glance his way, and for some reason, that made her more interesting.

Joe wiped his hands on his towel, telling himself to let it go. She probably didn’t want to be bothered. But when he saw her frowning at the screen on her treadmill like it had personally wronged her, he couldn’t help it. He wandered over, hopping onto the treadmill next to hers.

“Hey,” he said, pulling out one of his earbuds.

She startled, glancing at him briefly. “Uh, hi?”

“You’ve got a good pace going,” he said, throwing out the first thing that came to mind.

She snorted—an actual snort—and he liked her even more. “Sure, if the goal is ‘don’t collapse in public.’”

Joe chuckled, slowing his treadmill to match her pace. “That’s a solid goal.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, and for a second, Joe forgot where he was. There was something about the way her face lit up that made him want to keep her smiling.

“I’m just trying to not freak out before this interview,” she admitted, pulling out her own earbuds.

“Big interview?” he asked, leaning a little closer.

“Sort of,” she said. “It’s my third one this week, and I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it’s been… rough.”

Joe nodded, genuinely interested. “What’s the job?”

“Marketing,” she said, grabbing her water bottle. “But everyone wants experience I don’t have.”

“That’s tough,” he said. “You’ll get there, though. Sounds like you’re hustling.”

Her lips twitched, like she wasn’t used to hearing that kind of encouragement. “Thanks. What about you? You here to blow off steam too?”

Joe hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda. I’m here for football. Gotta stay in shape.”

Her eyebrows raised. “You play football?”

“Yeah,” he said. “For the Bengals.”

She blinked at him, expression unreadable. “Like… professionally?”

“Yeah.”

There it was. The moment people usually lit up or started asking questions. But she just nodded like he’d told her he worked at the post office.

“Cool,” she said. “Not really my thing, but that’s cool.”

He couldn’t believe it. “You’re not a football fan?”

“Not really,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I mean, I know the basics, but I couldn’t name more than, like, two players. Sorry.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “That’s actually kinda nice.”

“What is?”

“Talking to someone who doesn’t care about all that,” he said honestly.

Her smile widened a little, and he felt his chest tighten. She had no idea who he was, but she was still talking to him like he mattered. He wanted to keep her here, to keep the conversation going, to learn more about the determined, slightly frazzled woman in front of him.

But she checked her watch and groaned. “I gotta go. Thanks for the pep talk, though. Uh… sorry, what was your name again?”

“Joe,” he said, grinning.

“Right. Well, thanks, Joe. Good luck with… football.”

As she walked away, Joe watched her go, his heart sinking a little. He didn’t even get her name.

Still, he couldn’t help the stupid smile that stayed on his face the rest of the day. And when he showed up at the gym the next morning at the same time, it wasn’t just for the workout.

Taglist: @joeybsboo @heavyhitterheaux @inmyfeelingsgnocchi @ikeepitlight @iknowdatsrightbih

[myss-lys]

Like The Prince? ~ F.T.

Summary: In which a pink haired girl is met with the most sought after man in all of Oz, Fiyero.

————————————————————————

I twirl the yellow flower in my hand as I walk through the dark woods. My professor sent me out to get a specific flower for the potion that we’re currently learning how to make.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a twig snap behind me. My head whips around. Suddenly my mind is racing with every scary movie, book, and story I’ve ever heard. I quickly turn back to the path and begin walking at a fast pace.

I nearly fall backwards when a horse comes running right at me. It stops right before reaching me and both the horse and the man on it laugh at me. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you.” The man says. I recollect myself before scolding the man like I’m his mother. “Are you crazy? You cannot be riding like that at night you could kill somebody!” I shout. “Ok mom.” The horse snickers under its breath causing the man the laugh.

I roll my eyes before walking back on the path. The man follows beside me, still on his horse. “I don’t think you have to worry about being trampled at night, considering you have that bright pink hair.” The man says. My hand subconsciously touches my pink hair. The pink hair I was born with an have been relentlessly teased for.

“Just get whatever you have to say about it out of your system now.” I say, defeated. “Okay then. It’s a wonderful color on you.” He says. I look up at him and scoff. “Who-who are you?” I ask. “I’m Fiyero Tigelaar.” He says. I scoff again. “Like the prince?” I ask. “Of course darling.” He says. “Like I believe that.” I say.

He chuckles. A silence falls over us before he breaks it. “Where are you headed to?” He asks. “Shiz.” I say. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride? It’s not out of my path.” He says. I laugh. “Yeah that doesn’t sound suspicious at all. First you’re a prince and now suddenly my destination just happens to be in your path?” I say.

“Suit yourself.” He says before speeding up. “Wait! Just because my feet are starting to hurt, I’ll let you give me a ride.” I say with a smile. He grins at me before reaching his hand down to help me up.

The ride to Shiz is filled is lighthearted conversation and many laughs. I notice he’s taking the longer way to Shiz, seeming to not want the conversation to end.

He stops at the gates of Shiz. “I hope to see you around.” He says. “I don’t.” I say, jokingly, before unlocking the gate with my Shiz Pin. I hear him chuckle behind me. I turn back around and our eyes meet, for what I think is the final time. “See you later, Pinkie.” He says. I wince at the nickname I had opened up to him about. The one I’ve been called my whole life and have. “Bye, prince.” I say with a sarcastic tone.

I turn around and walk away, not looking back. I feel his lingering stare before hearing him and his horse ride away.

The next morning I open my door to get the daily paper. The front page shows the man from last night, the title reading “Prince Now Attending Shiz”

He wasn’t lying.

Later that day, I'm walking to class when I hear a commotion in the courtyard. Galinda Upland, the most popular girl at Shiz, is practically hanging off someone's arm. As I get closer, I realize it's him. Fiyero.

He's smiling politely as she chatters away, flipping her perfect golden curls and batting her eyelashes. I can't help but notice how they look together - like something out of a fairy tale. The handsome prince and the beautiful socialite.

I try to hurry past, clutching my books to my chest, but then I hear his voice cut through Galinda's endless stream of words. "Excuse me for just a moment," he says, already moving away from her despite her protests.

"Hey, Pinkie!" he calls out. I freeze mid-step, feeling everyone's eyes turn to me. Galinda's mouth drops open in shock as Fiyero jogs over to where I'm standing.

"I was hoping I'd run into you," he says, grinning at me. "Though I have to say, you're much easier to spot in daylight."

I can hear the whispers starting already. Galinda's perfectly manicured hand is pressed to her chest in horror as she watches the scene unfold. The prince - her prince of exactly ten minutes - is talking to the girl with the weird pink hair.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your adoring fan?" I ask, nodding toward Galinda.

He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. "I'd rather talk to the girl who called me crazy and lectured me about night riding safety. Much more interesting conversation."

I feel my cheeks flush, both from his words and the increasing number of stares we're attracting. "Well, someone has to keep you in line, Your Highness," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite my racing heart. The crowd around us continues to grow, and I can practically feel Galinda's glare burning into my back.

Part 2 —> coming soon

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 13 - 'Locked In’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.4k

The night was quiet except for the faint hum of streetlights filtering through your windows, but that peace was shattered by the incessant buzz of your phone vibrating on the bedside table. You were fast asleep, but Layla, curled up next to you on the other side of your bed, was anything but. She groaned, sitting up and glaring at your phone like it had personally offended her. Finally, she snatched it up, squinting at the screen. Trent. The notifications wouldn’t stop.

‘You awake, baby?’ ‘I just landed. Miss you so much xx.’ ‘Can I come over, pretty girl.’ ‘I’m outside if you’re up.’

Layla sighed, her annoyance mixing with protectiveness. She unlocked your phone, her thumb hovering over the keyboard before finally typing back. 

‘She’s asleep. Go home.’ 

But Trent wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Ten minutes later, she heard the sound of the side door creak open, and her heart jumped. Grabbing the closest thing resembling a weapon—a high heel —she tiptoed downstairs.

“Trent,” she hissed, relief and irritation washing over her simultaneously when she saw him standing in the hallway. “What the hell?” It wasn’t uncommon for any of Jack’s friends to just let themselves in but you knew that, Layla didn’t.

“I needed to see her,” Trent said quietly, his tone apologetic but firm. Layla’s frustration boiled over. 

“Honestly…” Layla sighed, frustrated she was awake, frustrated that your relationship wasn’t ironed out yet. The scenes of you upset again and again flashed in her mind even if you had just gushed about how good London had been with Trent last night to her. “T… you need to man up, seriously!” she snapped with a groan, her voice louder than intended. She rubbed her eyes tiredly.  “You’re sneaking into her house like you’re 16, and her parents are upstairs. What are you even doing?!” He flinched at her words, but his brows furrowed in frustration. 

“Layla, what do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “Things are good right now. Really good. We’re sorting it. What am I supposed to do here?”

“What do I want you to do?” Layla threw her arms up. “I want you to treat her how she’s meant to be treated!”

“I do!” Trent shot back, his voice rising slightly. But then it softened, guilt creeping in as he added, “When it’s just us…” The reality that he was a grown man sneaking around in his best mate’s house for his sister harrowing. 

“Exactly,” Layla cut him off. Both of them slightly caught off guard by how serious of a conversation they were having as the night approached morning. “When it’s just you two. But Trent, she’s not some girl you can keep in the shadows. She’s not your secret. She’s not that girl to you, and you know it.” Trent’s defenses crumbled. He looked at Layla, the weight of her words sinking in. Layla sighed, her voice trembling as she continued. “She’s been waiting for you. I’ve seen you pine after her for years. Years, Trent. And you’ve played it too cool. It’s like you don’t care.  But now you’ve got her—she’s yours, fully and completely—and you’re still making her feel like she’s not enough. Do you know how much she trusts you? She’s playing by your rules because she wants this so badly. She wants you so badly. So please, Trent…” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please want her back. Want her the way she deserves to be wanted.” Trent’s chest tightened as he stepped closer to Layla cautiously, the sight of her lip trembling catching him off guard. He nodded, swallowing hard. 

“I do, Lay. I swear, I do. I just—” He sighed frustrated by circumstance. 

“Then show her,” Layla interrupted, her voice soft but firm. “Show her before she convinces herself you don’t.” She told Trent heartbroken by your stupid mistake. Your decision to text Josh was solely your fault and Layla agreed but that didn’t mean she felt like Trent couldn’t have made things a little better than they had been. Still, even with her reasoning clear in her mind, she didn’t think it was her place to tell him about the message so Trent nodded again, more resolutely this time, his jaw tightening as determination flickered in his eyes. He was done hiding, done pretending this wasn’t the most important thing in his life. 

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I will. You know… I  want her so much, Lays. I can’t even begin to put it into words,” Trent admitted, his voice raw and trembling with emotion. “I’m working on it. I promise. I’m not fucking about.” His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, Layla was stunned. The vulnerability in his voice, the sheer honesty—she couldn’t help but soften. Trent reached for her, pulling her into a hug. She resisted for a split second before melting into the embrace, her sniffle betraying her emotions.

“Okay…” she murmured, stepping back and wiping her eyes quickly, a shy giggle escaping her lips. “Alright, well… you’re here. And I know she’d want you to stay.” Trent’s face softened further, relief washing over him at her words. “Come on, then,” she said gently, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the staircase. “I’ll stay in the guest room.” Trent nodded, a quiet ‘Thank you’ escaping his lips. But before he could take another step, Layla turned back and narrowed her eyes at him with mock severity. “But I’ve got my eye on you, yeah?” She snapped. Trent chuckled under his breath, the tension easing slightly. So he turned and climbed the stairs, his heart pounding with every step. Layla trailed behind, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths as she silently prayed he’d get it right this time.

 “Thanks, Lay. Really.” he said, his tone soft and genuine. With that, he slowly pushed open your bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise. The room was dimly lit by the glow of your bedside lamp, and there you were, tangled in your sheets, your features peaceful in sleep. Trent’s heart clenched as he took you in, the familiar ache of longing mixed with the overwhelming warmth of being close to you again. He stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. Layla, standing in the hall, gave him one last look of approval before heading toward the spare room, leaving him to figure out what came next. Trent hesitated for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, his mind racing. But then he crossed the room, pulling off his jumper and trousers before slipping under the covers next to you. You stirred slightly at the shift, your brows furrowing as you felt his lips on your shoulder. You opened your eyes just enough to see him. 

“T?” you whispered, your voice groggy and laced with confusion but deluded bliss of him possibly being here. 

“Yeah, it’s me, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “I missed you. I couldn’t wait to get my baby back.” You blinked a few times, the fog of sleep lifting as you registered his words. 

“You’re here?” A small, sleepy smile crept onto your face. 

“I’m here,” he confirmed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Go back to sleep f’me. I’m not going anywhere.” And with that, he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin as you let yourself drift back into dreams of him, in his arms. For the first time in weeks, he felt at peace.

The warmth of the morning sunlight filtered through your bedroom curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the room. The light spilled onto Trent, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his lashes, and the slight pout of his lips as he slept. He looked utterly peaceful, almost angelic, and for a moment, you just stared, letting yourself soak in the sight of him after missing him so deeply. Your chest swelled with affection, the ache of longing you'd carried melting away as you pressed a soft kiss to his bare chest. The hum of your lips against his skin made him shift slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening instinctively around you. Smiling to yourself, you moved closer, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the scent of his skin filling your senses. You couldn't resist the temptation to pepper light, feathery kisses along his neck, lingering in the sensitive spot just below his ear. You nibbled gently, and his breathing hitched, his body stirring beneath you as his eyelashes fluttered. You smirked against his skin. Trent could feel the curl of your plump lips against him. He was drowsily confused but comforted by it. Trent stirred slightly at your touch, his muscles tensing beneath your lips. But it all became clear when your kisses started to get a bit heavier as you moved down his neck to his collarbone. Your hands grazed over his body and down his abs until you began to play with the waistband of his boxers. You slid your hand under it and Trent groaned.

"Good morning, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes flicked open, and for a moment, he simply gazed at you, his expression filled with adoration. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm, better than well," you replied, your voice husky with desire. "I had the best dream about you." Trent's lips curved into a playful smirk, and he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. 

"Oh yeah? What kind of dream?" He purred.  You giggled, feeling a bit shy but excited to share the cheeky dream you had last night with him. 

"The kind where you couldn't keep your hands off me," you whispered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "Where you kissed me all over." Trent's breath hitched as you spoke, and you could feel his desire rising. His hands began to roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and waist, making you shiver with anticipation. 

"I can make that dream come true, you know," he said, his voice low and seductive.

"Oh, really?" you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. "And what about my dream where I was moaning your name?" You cooed. Trent's eyes darkened with desire, and he pressed his body against yours, his erection straining against your thigh. 

"I can make that happen too, baby. I love hearing you say my name." His words sent a thrill through your body, and you couldn't resist any longer. "Please, T," you begged, your voice breathless as you began to grind your core on top of his hardening cock. His lips pressed into yours for a suffocating kiss. Your body laid flush against his as you made out, laying completely overtop of him. You sat back up on his lap, straddling his waist and your tits bounced in a mesmerizing way that had Trent immediately following you up, pulling your tank top over your head swiftly.  You were gasping out a moan when his free hand came up to play with your nipples. 

“Oh my god, s-shit, that feels so good, baby.” You whined as his lips came around one of your nipples swiftly, his tongue flicking back and forth over it, surrounding it. Attending to one and then the other, swapping his mouth for his hand and his hand for his mouth. "I need you. I need to feel you inside me." You begged. Trent's eyes smoldered with passion as he positioned himself between your folds. 

"You're so needy for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with need. "You want me to come right inside? So wet f’me already." He rattled off words but you had a hard time listening after he lined his cock up with your entrance, lifting your ass up and guided you to sink down taking all of him immediately. You were so wet it was seamless but the minimal foreplay made for pleasurable pain from the stretch of him. “You’re such good girl f’me. You okay, baby?”  You nodded and started to ride him after adjusting a little. It felt so good you could feel the knot in your stomach form almost immediately. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he thrusted in a slow, deliberate rhythm upward. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he moved into you again and again. "Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck.

“So fucking good." You moaned in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as you urged him on.  Before he hooked his arm under your thigh, flipping you over, to be underneath him.

"Harder, T," you pleaded. "Please, fuck me harder." You begged. He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he pounded into your core. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans filled the room. Trent's dominant nature took over, and he pinned your wrists above your head, holding you down as he claimed your body.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he panted, his eyes locked with yours. "You love it when I take control."

"Yeah, fuck," you cried out, your body trembling on the edge of release. Trent's thrusts became even more intense, his body a blur of motion as he drove into you with abandon. His free hand reached down, finding your clit, and began to rub it in circles, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You practically yelled as Trent hit your g-spot hard and fast, again and again and again. You could hear just how wet you were as your walls clamped around him tighter. The knot in your stomach was coming undone quicker than you expected this morning. You tried to put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans knowing Layla was in the house but he wasn’t having that. He held your hands above you with restraint as he continued to fuck you. 

“Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.” He whispered against your neck before biting your sensitive skin only pulling another, louder, moan from you. 

“T…” you whined. “Please, I’m so close, I’m so… f-fuck!… I’m so close.” You told him squeezing your eyes shut as you started to feel your orgasm approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein. 

“Shit, just wait a little bit for me, beautiful. You can do it. Yeah? Just a little more for me. Take it like a good girl.” Trent struggled to get the words out as your pussy started to clench tighter around him. One of his large hands drew back down your body in between you two and began rubbing circles on your throbbing clit again. Your mind turned to mush. His thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier and harsher. 

“You’re such a good girl, f’me. Cum f’me now, baby. Cum all over my cock, yeah? I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock while I fill you up.” Trent babbled as you came, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut tighter again. You were gasping as Trent fucked you into your high.

“T…baby” you moaned, feeling his release painting your insides. Your body tightened, every muscle coiling with tension, and then you exploded, crying out his name as your orgasm ripped through you, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he emptied himself deep within you.

“That’s my good girl…” he said as he pumped you full of his cum extending the pleasure of your high. He laid on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily. Every part of Trent was so unfairly pretty you just laid there admiring every inch unable to move not just from his physical weight atop you but the weight he seemed to have on your heart.  For a moment, you both laid there, panting and sweaty, your hearts racing in unison. Trent released your wrists and cuddled into your neck, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling his heart pounding against yours.

"That was so good baby," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. You smiled, contentment washing over you.  He lifted his head, his brown eyes sparkling with affection. The morning had been nothing short of perfection. You and Trent lay tangled in the soft sheets, basking in the afterglow, your bodies warm and completely at ease. The sunlight spilled over you both, illuminating the intimate serenity of the moment. Trent had his arms draped lazily over you, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, planting lazy kisses along your shoulder. You couldn't help but smile, running your fingers over his messy morning curls you relished the quiet intimacy. But peace never lasted long in your world. The sound of your bedroom door creaking open made you tense. Before you could react, Layla strode in, her presence unbothered and entirely too casual considering the situation.

"Okay, time's up," she declared, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a smug smile. "I gave you your morning glory. Lovely to hear, by the way. Really enjoyed listening along." Her sarcastic tone was laced with amusement, her smirk widening when you groaned in embarrassment.

"Layla!" you hissed, sitting up quickly and grabbing the blanket to cover yourself. Trent, however, didn't move much-if anything, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you back against his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"What? I'm just being a good friend," she said, shrugging innocently. "Jack said he'd be back soon, so, you know..." She trailed off, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

"How do you even know that?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

"Oh, I checked your iMessages," she replied breezily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Lovely," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You couldn't help but laugh, though, despite yourself. Layla always had a way of invading your space and somehow making you laugh while doing it.

"Up to you guys," she said with a grin, throwing Trent's T-shirt at him. "Just thought you'd want to know. No pressure." As she turned to leave, Trent finally shifted, his arms still wrapped around you as he sat up straighter. Instead of making any effort to move, though, he pressed his lips to your neck with a low hum. 

"Mmm, just want more of you," he murmured against your skin, his voice still husky from the morning. Layla paused in the doorway, turning back to glance at the two of you. She rolled her eyes dramatically, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. 

"You've ruined him, you know that, right?" she said, addressing you directly with a slight giggle. "Trent Alexander-Arnold, reduced to a lovesick puppy. Honestly, it's amazing, and I love you for it." You laughed, shaking your head as Trent grumbled something incoherent into your neck, clearly uninterested in Layla's commentary.

"Alright, I'm out," she announced, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Just don't say I didn't warn you when Jack comes storming in." And as she left, you looked over at Trent, who finally pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His smile was lazy, but the way he looked at you was full of warmth.

"She's not wrong, you know," he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"About Jack storming in?" you teased, arching an eyebrow. He chuckled, shaking his head.

 "No. About me being completely ruined by you." He kissed you then, soft and lingering, as if to prove his point. And as you melted into him, you decided that if this was being ruined, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The morning felt bittersweet as Trent darted out of your house, leaving behind the warm intimacy you’d shared. You sighed, lying back in bed, wishing things were easier. Wishing you could just wake up together, make breakfast, and spend the day entwined without the looming threat of Jack finding out. The secrecy weighed heavy, and as much as you understood why, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. You were still lost in thought when your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your melancholy. Trent’s name lit up the screen, and you answered almost immediately.

“Hi,” you murmured sweetly but not trying not to sound too eager.

“Get ready f’me,” he said, his voice warm and certain. “I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up, yeah?” Your heart lifted at his words, a wave of relief flooding through your chest. It felt like the distance between you two, however short-lived, was unbearable now. You couldn’t be without him anymore—not even for a morning. Thirty minutes later, you were stepping out the door, butterflies flitting in your stomach as Trent pulled into the driveway. When you climbed into the passenger seat, your eyes widened in surprise—on the center console beside you was a bouquet of flowers, fresh and colorful, wrapped in brown paper.

“For you,” he said with a grin, his dimple showing as he glanced your way. You smiled, your fingers brushing over the soft petals. 

“Thank you, they’re beautiful.” You giggled. 

“You’re beautiful,” he countered smoothly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek before putting the car in gear. As he pulled out of the driveway, you glanced back toward your house, relieved to have snuck out just before Jack got back. The thrill of sneaking around should have been nerve-wracking, but all you could focus on was the way Trent’s hand drifted over to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking lazy circles as he drove. And as the car sped down the quiet streets, you felt a flicker of hope—hope that, for a little while at least, you could have exactly what you wanted. Just you and him, no secrets, no interruptions, just the two of you stealing moments that felt like forever.

The soft rustle of the morning breeze and the gentle lapping of water against the docks set the scene for a moment you hadn’t dared to imagine. You felt the brisk wind off the water nip at your skin, but it was Trent’s warmth beside you that anchored you. His hand firmly in yours, fingers interwoven, you leaned against his shoulder, letting your worries melt away for just a little while. The bouquet of flowers lay on the bench beside you, a vibrant contrast to the stillness of the scene. They were beautiful, fragrant, and entirely unexpected—much like him returning this morning and whisking you away. You hadn’t said much since he’d picked you up, but there was no need. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting, filled with the weight of unsaid emotions and the mutual understanding that neither of you wanted to be apart anymore. Trent shifted slightly, turning his body toward you. His large, warm hand cupped your cheek, and his thumb brushed against your skin. You looked up at him, and his brown eyes softened in a way that made your heart skip.

“Gimme a kiss,” he murmured, his voice low and sweet, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You hesitated, your eyes darting around the empty docks, fear flickering in the back of your mind. 

“What if someone sees?” you whispered, voice laced with worry. His thumb stilled, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he spoke. 

“Then they see me with my girl,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure, grounding you in a way only he could. And just like that, your doubts vanished. Trent closed the small distance between you, and the world seemed to stop. His lips met yours, and it was everything. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant. It was steady and confident, yet gentle. His lips moved with a purpose, and you felt the depth of his feelings in every second. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an unspoken promise, a declaration of how much he cared. The warmth of his hand on your cheek, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the salt in the air, the sunlight catching his skin—it all came together in a moment that felt too perfect to be real. When he finally pulled back, his eyes lingered on you, his hands still cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. “You’re so beautiful, baby” he whispered, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the shy smile that spread across your lips. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to hide, to worry, to second-guess what this was. In that moment, it was just you and Trent—no secrets, no complications, just you and the boy who made you feel like the center of the universe. The weight of his words settled heavily in your chest, warming you in a way you hadn’t expected. Trent’s voice was soft but firm, filled with an urgency you rarely heard from him. His hand lingered on your thigh, grounding you as you tried to process everything he was saying.

“I know it’s been shitty,” he started again, his tone apologetic but resolute, his gaze fixed on yours. “And I know this doesn’t fix the hiding or make it all better, but…” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small blue box that instantly caught your attention. Your breath hitched as he held it out to you. “Before you say I didn’t have to, or that it’s too much, blah blah,” he teased lightly, “I did have to. I needed to, because I want you to know that I’m locked in with you. Alright?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the emotions he was working so hard to steady. Tears threatened to spill as you tried to steady yourself.  Guilt about texting Josh refusing to leave your mind, but leaving this moment wasn’t an option either.

“I know… we’re just figuring it out,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion.

“Yeah, I know, baby. And I’m sorry we are,” he said, leaning closer and brushing his thumb along the back of your hand. “But please, you gotta trust me here. I know what I want. I want you. None of the games. None of the hiding. We’ll get there, yeah? Just stay with me.” His forehead pressed gently against yours as his words sunk in, and the lump in your throat grew heavier. 

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears began to fall.

“I promise,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of conviction. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had stilled. “I’ve got us, yeah?” You nodded, unable to speak, tears slipping down your cheeks as he reached up to brush them away with a soft hum.

“Want to open that for me, please?” he cooed, his voice gentle but encouraging. Your hands shook as you took the box from him, its weight both literal and symbolic. The unmistakable Tiffany blue sent your heart racing, and as you opened the lid, the sunlight caught on the diamonds of a delicate lock bracelet inside. It was breathtaking, sparkling like a thousand tiny stars.

“T…” you began, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to tell him it was too much, that he didn’t have to do this. But Trent was already shaking his head, cutting you off before you could even start. 

“Nah, stop, baby. I told you. I don’t want to hear it.” His tone was gentle but unwavering. “I just need you to know—I’m locked in. I’m in. Completely.” His eyes searched yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart feel like it might burst. You wanted to say so much, to tell him everything you felt, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you nodded, a tearful smile breaking through as you slipped the bangle onto your wrist. The cool metal was a perfect fit, a constant reminder of everything he was saying, of everything he promised.

“I love it,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Baby… you know, I…” You sighed and took a deep breath. You wanted to tell him so bad. You looked at him and your heart hurt. You loved him. You really did but the words wouldn’t come out. “I really want this.” you said. You finally got out some words though they weren’t the ones you wanted, the ones he deserved.

“I really want this,” he echoed without hesitation, his voice soft but sure, as if he’d been waiting to say it for so long. Slowly, you reached for him, your hands trembling as you cupped his face. And as Trent leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss filled with all the love and promises you could ever need, you knew this moment would stay with you forever.

Trent shifted in his seat at the kitchen island in your kitchen, drumming his fingers nervously on the surface. The air between you both was tense but charged with unspoken words, the kind that made the small space of the kitchen feel overwhelmingly intimate despite the island separating you. He wanted you closer, but for now, he settled for stealing glances at you, his smirk betraying the cool demeanor he was trying so hard to maintain. Jack, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent.

“That’s massive, bro,” he said, grinning about the Premier League Awards invite Trent had just thrown out. “You sure you want me to come? Big moment for you, lad.” He looked at Trent excitedly. 

“I mean… yeah, I’m asking mate. I’d love you to come with,” Trent replied casually, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. “It’s on the 17th…” He cooed and Jack’s brow furrowed. “Oh shit… is that when you’re flying out? What was it again? You’d be in Amsterdam?” The mention of Jack’s work trip to Amsterdam lit a fire in his eyes. His excitement briefly overshadowed his disappointment. 

“Damn, you’re right. I can’t get out of that either.” He tapped the countertop, considering. Trent feigned a disappointed sigh, though inside, he was quietly relieved. Actually, this was all a very carefully thought out plan.

 “Yeah, shame, man. Would’ve been a laugh.” Then, almost as an afterthought—though it was anything but—he looked at you. “Y/N, you wanna come along instead? Could be fun.” He delivered it with a casual smirk, his tone light, but his eyes betrayed him. They were focused, watching you carefully, measuring your reaction. Your heart skipped a beat. The idea of a night out with Trent, no hiding, no excuses, even if it was in a sea of strangers, had your pulse racing. But you knew better than to seem too eager. Shrugging, you leaned casually against the counter. 

“Eh…” You let your words trail off, pretending to consider. Jack scoffed, his expression incredulous. “What is it?” You asked, acting as if you hadn’t been clinging to every word that was said. 

“End of Season Prem Awards, Y/N.  What’s with the hesitation? Trenty’s asking you to an event, don’t be ungrateful about it.” He cooed, pinching between your neck and your shoulders as he moved past you. 

“I don’t know,” you teased, dragging it out just enough to keep Trent on edge. Jack rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. 

“Nah, you’re going. You’re not saying no to this. Go, seriously.” Jack doubled down. Trent had played his best friend and as cynical as it was, he wanted you over anything. You glanced at Trent, whose smirk had widened just enough to tell you he knew you were playing along. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” you said, a small smile breaking through as you tried to contain the excitement bubbling under your skin. As soon as the words left your mouth, something shifted in the room. Jack looked between the two of you, a flicker of confusion passing across his face. The realization that you and Trent would be attending a formal event together—alone—began to settle uncomfortably in his mind.

“Wait…” Jack started, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s kind of… weird, innit?” His gaze shifting and then landing on Trent, his brow furrowed.  

“What’s weird?” you asked, your voice light and nonchalant.

“I don’t know. You two going together. Like, I get it—it’s fine. But…” Jack trailed off, his brows staying knitted. Trent leaned forward, his elbows on the counter, expertly diffusing the tension. 

“Mate, she’s a better date than you anyway. Less hassle, more fun. Trust me.” He laughed.  Jack let out a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Whatever, man. Just don’t let her ruin your night.” He snipped with a teasing smirk to you. 

Trent shifted uncomfortably in his chair, Tyler’s words weighing heavily on him. The invitation to the awards open on the laptop in front of them, but he hadn’t been able to focus on it for the past ten minutes. He leaned back, running a hand over his face. Tyler had asked who Trent was bringing and since then… it had gone tense.  

“Just Jack’s sister,” he muttered bitterly, more to himself than Tyler, though the words hung awkwardly in the air. They tasted wrong. You were so much more than that, and the way he said it made him cringe. Tyler leaned forward, his eyebrows raised.

“Your best mate’s sister… who you’re fucking,” he repeated with pointed emphasis, his tone making it clear there was no skirting around the truth. Trent groaned and shook his head, letting his hands fall to his lap. 

“Nah, bro, you’re making it sound horrible. Like I’m sneaking around or something.” Tyler shot him a skeptical look. 

“But you are sneaking around, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Mate, if Jack finds out from someone else—and you know he will—it’s going to be so much worse. You’re dragging this out, and it’s only going to hurt him more.” Trent stared at the table, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Tyler wasn’t wrong. This whole situation had been gnawing at him for weeks, actualyl months. He thought about how easy it was to get caught up in the moments with you, how right it felt when he was with you, and how much harder it was to deal with the reality of keeping it all hidden.

“I know, bro,” he admitted quietly. His voice carried the weight of his guilt. “I know I need to tell him. I’m just—” 

“Scared?” Tyler offered bluntly. Trent shot him a sharp look, but there was no point denying it. 

“Yeah,” he admitted after a long pause. “I don’t want to lose Jack over this. But I can't lose her either.” Tyler’s expression softened, though his tone stayed firm. 

“You’ve got to stop living in limbo, mate. If she means as much to you as I think she does, it’s time to step up. Jack’s gonna be pissed, yeah, but he’ll get over it. You’re not just some random lad messing about with his sister.” Trent nodded, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table. 

“I’m in, Ty. I’m in so deep. I’m so serious about her. I even told her, I’m locked in.” He cooed sincerely. 

“Then act like it,” Tyler said simply. He glanced back at the screen, highlighting your name on the spreadsheet. “You want me to put ‘+1’ or her name? It’s your call.” Trent exhaled deeply, the weight of the decision sinking in. Finally, he leaned forward, typing your name into the guest list himself.

“She’s not just a +1,” he muttered, more to himself than Tyler. Tyler smiled knowingly. 

“Good. Then go make sure you’ve got a plan for Jack, mate. Because you’re running out of time.” He expectedly looked at Trent as if he needed to move this second. 

It was one of the last games of the season. Manchester United against Liverpool. Or Trent versus Josh essentially. You sat at your house watching with Layla. You could’ve gone, Jack and Noah had, but you gave some lame excuse. You said it was a stomach bug or something, which was a lie, except right now, your stomach did hurt. It hurt at the idea of Trent and Josh interacting, even if it was only on the pitch. Time ticked on and then suddenly the game on TV escalated rapidly, tension boiling over as the camera zoomed in on a confrontation. Trent and Josh were chest-to-chest, a referee stepping in but doing little to separate them. You could see the heated words exchanged between them. You could barely read their lips but that didn’t stop you from trying. Layla’s calm façade faltered as she sat up straighter, pulling her hand from yours to clutch a cushion tightly. 

“Oh, God, this is bad,” she muttered.

“Layla, what if they—” your voice cracked, the words catching in your throat as your pulse quickened.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. They won’t actually fight, its part of the game,” she reassured you, though her tone betrayed her nerves. But then Josh yanked Trent’s shirt, and Trent shoved him back harder than before, both of them glaring daggers at each other. Your stomach dropped. 

“Layla, I can’t—” you began, tears pricking your eyes as you watched the referee blow his whistle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Layla reached for your hand again, her own trembling now. “They’re just hyped up, you know how football is. Adrenaline and all that, yeah? Nothing’s gonna happen. Right?” She glanced nervously back at the screen. The crowd erupted. The commentators were buzzing about how uncharacteristic the scuffle was for Trent, emphasizing how composed he usually was on the field. “Not today, apparently,” Layla muttered under her breath, her attempt at humor falling flat. When Trent finally walked away, shaking his head, you exhaled sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath. But your relief was short-lived.  Your heart raced as the match resumed. But your mind was no longer on the game—it was on Trent. You reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you debated whether to text him or wait.

“What are you doing?” Layla asked, her voice low but laced with concern.

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered. “I just need to know he’s okay. What Josh said.” Layla sighed, pulling you into a side hug.

“He’ll be fine, babe. As much as it might be about you, it might not be. It’s part of the game. Let him come to you. You need to breathe, okay? Let’s just get through this match, and then we’ll figure out what to do.” You nodded hesitantly, leaning into her as the match continued. But your focus remained glued to Trent every time the camera panned to him, his expression hard, his jaw clenched. You knew this wasn’t just about football. And you had no idea how much worse things could get.

Down on the field, the tension was palpable. Josh smirked, leaning in just enough for Trent to hear, his voice dripping with venom. 

“What’s it like taking my sloppy seconds, bro?” Josh snipped shoving Trent trying to get him to break. And break he did. Trent’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He stared straight through Josh, his voice low and cutting. 

“She dipped because you could find the goal before you found a clit and you haven’t score since 2010.”  Trent snapped. Josh’s grin faltered for a moment, but then he shrugged it off, laughing bitterly. 

“Whatever, mate. You know she hit me up the other week, right? Guess your shit date night didn’t go so well, huh.” He smugly smiled. Trent saw red, shoving Josh hard, sending him stumbling backward. Trent couldn’t believe Josh knew about the date, Trent couldn’t believe you texted him. He was livid.

“Fuck off, bro,” he spat, his voice louder now, drawing the attention of the referee, who immediately ran over to break it up. The ref got between them, issuing warnings, but the fire in Trent’s eyes didn’t extinguish. He was fuming, but he let it go—for now.

The game stayed nil, nil into the half but the tensions were high, if not higher with every passing second making you more nervous. Your chin rested on your knees, your eyes flicking between the screen and the clock, before you gave in and buried your forehead against your legs, too anxious to watch the second half unfold. The commentators’ voices boomed through the speakers, heightening your sense of dread. Layla sat next to you silenced by the tension. The clock was running down, dipping into the 80th minute, and you couldn’t help but feel the nerves crawling through your skin. And then the game shifted. Trent surged down the right wing, perfectly timing his run to meet a cross. With one fluid motion, he sent the ball rocketing into the back of the net. Then suddenly, you heard it—Alexander-Arnold, goal in the 81st minute!  Your head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. You blinked, and there he was, Trent, sprinting towards the sideline, arms outstretched, his face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart soar. The entire stadium erupted around him, but all you could focus on was the way that smile dropped.  He slowed his run as he pointed to the camera gesturing for it to come with a finger. He bent down, grabbed it with both hands, and pressed a deliberate, lingering kiss onto the lens. Trent wasn’t just celebrating the goal he was claiming you. Back at home, the living room erupted.

“OH MY GOD!” Layla screamed, jumping up from the couch.

“Oh my fucking God! What was that! Did he just… Oh my fucking God” you shrieked, clutching her arm as you both lost it. The commentators on TV were stunned. 

“What a moment from Trent Alexander-Arnold! A goal to remember, and a statement, it seems!”

“Fuck off!” She squealed. “Did he just—” Layla turned to you, wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open. 

“He did,” you said breathlessly, heart pounding as you stared at the screen. On the field, Trent jogged back to his team, his smirk undeniable, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. You couldn’t stop smiling, your chest full to bursting. It wasn’t just a goal. It was a message—and it was for you.

After the game, Jack and Noah caught up with Trent. The post-match energy was still buzzing, but both of them were visibly curious about the heated exchange on the field and the subsequent goal.

“Mate… what a goal….” Jack told him with a brotherly grab of his shoulder shaking Trent. 

“Thanks bro.” Trent said, shaking his head as he came down from the high of it all. 

“Wild celly I won’t lie… new girl’s got you thinking about her even during the 90… damn.” Noah laughed, dapping him up. Trent hummed as he stretched with an exhale trying not to think about the comment. “Yo, but also…what was all that about?” Noah asked, his brow furrowed. Trent leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face. 

“What d’you mean?” he muttered, already knowing exactly what they meant.

“The beef with Josh,” Noah clarified. “I mean, the kid’s a fucking prick, we all know that but why were you going at him like that?” He asked earnestly.  Trent clenched his jaw, shaking his head sharply. 

“Fuck him, bro,” he snapped. “Lad’s got no respect.” Jack, more amused than concerned, chimed in. 

“Did he say something about Y/N?” he asked casually, not thinking much of it. At the mention of your name, Trent’s stomach tightened. He avoided Jack’s eyes, his voice clipped. 

“He just… I don’t know, man. He was talking shit. That’s all.” Noah exchanged a glance with Jack, sensing there was more to it, but they didn’t press further. 

“Well, whatever,” Noah shrugged. “You got the last word with that goal anyway. Loved the kiss, by the way—real humble,” he added with a smirk. Trent forced a chuckle, but his mind was spinning. The memory of Josh’s smug grin and his claim echoed in his head: You know she hit me up the other week? Was he lying? Or worse—was he telling the truth? Had you texted Josh? The thought made Trent’s chest burn with jealousy. He was fuming now, not just at Josh but at the idea of you reaching out to someone who clearly didn’t deserve your attention. He barely heard Jack or Noah’s conversation as they walked off. His fists clenched at his sides. He knew he had to talk to you, but how could he ask without revealing his own insecurities—or worse, giving away what he’d overheard?

The evening had settled into a calm rhythm before everything unraveled. You and Layla had been curled up on the couch, half-watching TV and half-chatting about nothing in particular post game. The dim lighting in the room was soft and comforting, the faint hum of the house settling around you. It had been quiet since your eruption after the goal and even more so that Jack and Noah were out, leaving you with the freedom to breathe, to just exist without the weight of secrets pressing on you. But that peace didn’t last long. The headlights pulling into the driveway were the first signal. You heard the crunch of gravel beneath tires, and you instinctively glanced out the window, expecting Jack and Noah. Sure enough, you saw their figures stepping out of the car, their laughter faintly audible even from inside. You relaxed slightly—until the second set of headlights came into view, illuminating the driveway behind them. Your stomach dropped.Layla noticed the change in your posture instantly. Her eyebrows furrowed as she turned to follow your gaze. When she saw the familiar car pulling in, her expression shifted from curiosity to quiet understanding. She placed a hand on your arm.

“It’s fine,” she said softly, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her own unease. “Jack and Noah are here. It’s not like anything can happen.” You wanted to believe her, but the guilt and fear bubbling inside you were too loud to ignore. Trent’s car came to a stop, and you saw his silhouette as he stepped out, his movements as measured and deliberate as always. The sight of him—a figure so familiar yet so out of place in this setting—sent a wave of emotions crashing over you. The front door opened, and Noah’s voice boomed into the room, full of excitement and energy. 

“You watch the match?!” he called out, his grin wide as he kicked off his shoes. Layla laughed, turning to greet him with her usual warmth. 

“We did. Good win,” she said lightly, glancing at you to see if you would add anything. But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your focus entirely on the sound of footsteps approaching behind Noah. Jack entered next, his face slightly flushed from the chill outside, and he immediately zeroed in on you. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked, his tone softer than usual. He wraped an arm around you in a loose hug. You hummed a vague response, trying to keep your expression neutral, though your heart was hammering in your chest. Jack let go of you with a playful shove. “We’re doing a fire out back. Trenty’s behind us if you’re interested in joining,” he said casually, grabbing a few things from the kitchen before heading toward the patio. The mention of Trent’s name made your breath hitch, and Layla squeezed your hand again, offering a reassuring smile. 

“Come on,” she said, trying to pull you toward the back door. But before you could move, the air in the room shifted, turning cold and charged all at once. Trent stepped inside. He scanned the room quickly, his expression carefully composed, but his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long. Layla greeted him first, her voice light but distant. She didn’t approach him, though, and her hesitance only made the tension thicker. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him directly, instead busying yourself with an offer to help Jack outside. But Trent’s presence was impossible to ignore, no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room was almost palpable as Trent stepped inside. His tall frame filled the doorway, and though his expression was neutral, you could feel the weight of his gaze land on you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you grabbed a stack of plates, pretending to be entirely preoccupied with Jack’s vague instructions about bringing something for the firepit. Layla gave Trent a polite smile, her hand still loosely wrapped around yours, but she didn’t make a move toward him. She knew better. The room felt like it was holding its breath, and you could sense her hesitance—like one wrong move would make everything unravel.

“What a fucking game though,” Noah said, breaking the silence, his voice loud and boisterous. He clapped Trent on the back with a grin. “Got United rattled, mate.” Trent smirked faintly, nodding. 

“Yeah, good to get the three points,” he replied, his tone calm, though his eyes kept darting back to you. Jack turned to look at him with an amused expression. 

“About time you lot did them in,” he teased, grabbing himself a beer and heading toward the back door. “Come on. Let’s get a fire going.” Layla nudged you gently, her fingers squeezing yours in silent encouragement. 

“You’re good,” she whispered, low enough that only you could hear. But the words felt hollow as Trent lingered by the door, letting everyone else pass him by. He didn’t move. He stayed there, waiting, his presence impossible to ignore. His eyes bore into yours, silently begging for even a sliver of your attention. You glanced at him briefly, feeling the pull, but you couldn’t—not here, not now. The risk was too high. So you stepped out onto the patio, the cool night air hit you like a wave of relief, but it did little to calm the storm raging in your chest. Layla followed close behind, her concerned gaze flitting between you and the door, where Trent still stood just inside. It wasn’t going to be an easy night. You could feel it in your bones.

The lights from the backyard flickered against the walls of the dimly lit living room, casting warm shadows that did nothing to ease the ice-cold tension between you and Trent. You could still hear muffled laughter outside, the crackling fire, the clinking of bottles as Jack and Noah carried on with, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside, Layla beside them very aware that after you had tucked inside, Trent followed. But here, in the suffocating space of the house, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Trent stood before you, shoulders squared, chest heaving as though he had just run the length of the pitch. He had cornered you, not letting your game of avoidance carry on. His face was taut, his usually soft eyes hardened with fury. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him like this—if you ever had.

“Did you text him?” he asked, his voice low but razor-sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. You blinked, his words barely registering as you scrambled to think of what to say, how to diffuse the situation. His intensity made your heart race, panic rising in your chest. 

“I…” Your voice came out in a whisper, trembling under his piercing gaze.

“Did you text him?” he demanded again, louder this time, his voice echoing in the room as he stepped closer. His towering frame loomed over you, and for the first time, you felt truly small in his presence.

“Yes,” you admitted, the word falling from your lips like a stone, heavy and cold. You watched as Trent’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he shut his eyes tight trying to compose himself as rage washed over him. 

“Why?” he snapped, his tone laced with disbelief, his voice shaking. “Why the fuck would you do that, Y/N?” He asked you for the third time but this each time hurting more then the last. 

“I—” You tried to find the words, but they caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to explain something you could barely justify to yourself. “I thought you… I thought you were like him,” you finally blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush before you could stop them. Trent froze, his expression shifting from anger to something more devastating. He stepped back as if your words had physically struck him, his head shaking slowly. You weren’t sure why you resorted to texting Josh in the heat of seeing Trent’s instagram. Maybe it was past trauma. You imagined if he was around girls in a club like Jack had said, maybe he’d act how Josh used to, how you felt you would always be treated. 

“You thought I was like him?” he repeated, his voice quieter now but filled with incredulity, his brow furrowing in pain. “Are you mad? I would never be fucking like that prick. I honestly can’t believe you think I’d ever be similar to that fucking lad.” His voice cracked slightly, his breath hitching as he raked a hand over his hair. He was so beyond offended. “I’d never treat you like he did. I never have, I never would. That’s so fucked up Y/N.” You opened your mouth to respond, to explain but no words came out. The weight of his hurt, the betrayal in his voice, rendered you speechless. “You want him?” Trent asked suddenly, his voice rising again, anger flaring back to life. “Go fucking be with him then!” he shouted, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

“T,” you sobbed, the tears spilling over now, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. “It was just a text. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—I didn’t mean it like that. Please.” Trent shook his head, stepping back as if to put more space between you. He was pacing now, his hand running over his face as he tried to process what you’d just said. Outside the fire burned, and as Layla, Jack, and Noah watched the wood go up in flames, you watched your relationship do just the same.   

“It’s not just a text to me!” he yelled, his voice cracking slightly.  “Do you know what it’s like to protect you from that piece of shit? Just for you to then go and pull this shit? To risk it all and give you everything I can—everything except for one fucking thing I asked for your patience with – one thing I’m fucking working on — and you go and text him?” You could hear the pain in his voice now, underneath the anger, and it broke you even further. “Why is it only my job to get this to work? How come you’re able to just sit back… you complain when we’re out, you complain when we’re in…” Trent grunted out of frustration. He just couldn’t fucking handle it anymore. 

 “T, I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice shaking as you stepped toward him, desperate to close the distance between you. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem,” Trent interrupted harshly, his tone cutting you off. “You didn’t think. You’re so ready to fucking throw this all to the wind. You didn’t think about me, about us. About everything I’ve done to try to make this work, everything you’ve done. I told you at the dock… I told you.” You took a deep breath as his voice trembled. He was fighting back tears. “ I told you I was locked in. Did that not mean anything to you? Do you just not care?” His words hit you like a slap, and your knees felt weak under the weight of his anger. 

“I do.” You sobbed. “If meant everything.” Your tears bordering on hysterics. “I know I fucked up,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in between gasping breaths and tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together.

“No,” Trent said firmly, his voice low but resolute. “This isn’t how you handle problems. You gotta fucking grow up. I’m here, I said I’m here and I’m doing what I can but it’s starting to feel like that will never be enough for you so what the fuck do you want, Y/N… ” The finality of his words left you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to fight back the sobs threatening to break free. Trent stared at you for a moment longer, his jaw tense, his eyes flickering with emotions you couldn’t name. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the house back outside.

“You.” You whimpered hating yourself more than you ever had.  The moment the door closed behind him, the dam broke. You sank to the floor, your knees giving out as sobs wracked your body. The cold metal of the bracelet he gave you burned against your skin. Every ounce of tension, fear, and guilt you’d been holding in came flooding out, leaving you a trembling mess on the cold, hard floor. The laughter and chatter from outside felt like a cruel mockery of your pain, the warmth of the bonfire and the camaraderie of friends so far removed from the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, your tears soaking into the sleeves of your sweater as you tried to catch your breath. All you knew was that Trent’s words kept echoing in your mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else: You gotta grow up. You gotta grow up.

When you finally pulled yourself together you just stayed inside, not wanting to ruin the fun. You sat motionless on the sofa, trying to will yourself into invisibility until eventually the others filtered into the house. The warmth of the fire lingered on their skin, their chatter carrying a carefree energy that contrasted sharply with the heaviness in your chest. Jack and Layla headed to the kitchen, their voices muffled as they rummaged for snacks. Noah sprawled out on the lounger with a dramatic sigh, tossing out demands for Jack to bring him a beer. You didn’t dare glance at Trent, though you could feel his presence like a magnetic pull. It wasn’t until you heard his voice—quiet, almost hesitant—that your heart shattered anew.

“Can I sit here?” He asked. The question hung in the air, carrying with it an undercurrent of tension that made it hard to breathe. You finally looked up at him, your bloodshot eyes meeting his. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at the turmoil beneath. His gaze softened slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face, the way you seemed so small, so broken. You bit your lip to keep from crying again and nodded, unable to trust your voice. Trent slid into the spot beside you, his knee brushing yours in the cramped space. He didn’t sit at a polite distance; instead, he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. As if he couldn’t bear the silence between you, Trent leaned across you, his body covering yours, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the blanket draped on the armrest. Your breath caught at the closeness, your body frozen in place. He straightened, settling back into his seat as he unfolded the blanket. Without a word, he tucked it around you, his hands lingering for a moment to ensure you were wrapped snugly. No matter what… he’d always take care of you. He promised you that. Even if it didn’t work, he promised. It was such a small, gentle gesture, but it unraveled you completely. You blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you struggled to keep your composure. How could he still be so tender with you after everything? 

Jack and Layla returned, their presence pulling you back to reality. Layla shot you a knowing look, her brow furrowed in concern as she took in the palpable tension. Jack, oblivious, grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels, Noah chiming in from the lounger with loud, exaggerated groans at every suggestion. Trent joined in the casual back-and-forth, his voice calm and even as though nothing had happened. You stayed silent, barely able to focus on their conversation. Instead, you stayed close to him, your body inching closer bit by bit until your arm brushed his. When he didn’t pull away, you dared to press your side against his, seeking comfort in his proximity. Your head found its way to his shoulder, resting there tentatively. Trent didn’t move or say a word, but you felt the way his body relaxed ever so slightly beneath your touch, his breath steady and warm. Jack finally settled on something to watch, the TV filling the room with light and sound, but you didn’t care what was on. All that mattered was that Trent hadn’t pushed you away—that he was still here, letting you lean on him despite everything.The fight wasn’t over—you both knew that—but for now, in this fragile moment, it felt like you could start to piece things back together. The room had fallen into a still, quiet rhythm. The flickering light from the TV cast soft shadows on the walls, Layla’s light snores punctuating the low hum of the NBA commentary. Jack and Noah were locked into the game, their occasional murmurs about plays blending seamlessly into the background. The fire outside had gone out, leaving behind only the faint smell of smoke drifting through the back door that was still creaked open because everyone claimed it wasn’t them and now were too lazy to go close it. You couldn’t help but feel it mirrored the state of your relationship—burnt down to embers, uncertain if it could be reignited.

“Gonna share?” Trent’s whisper was low and soft, cutting through your thoughts. You looked up at him, his expression unreadable save for the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn’t meeting your eyes fully, instead keeping his gaze casual and tilted toward the TV, but you knew he was waiting for you. You didn’t say a word, simply moving the blanket to cover the both of you. It felt like a tentative truce, the weight of it heavy with unsaid words and fragile hope.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible. Your body leaned into his, seeking comfort but still hesitant. His arm shifted, draping over your shoulders with calculated ease, as if to keep appearances for the others in the room. Yet, beneath the guise of nonchalance, his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on your shoulder. “I made a mistake because I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You know it’s only you. You know it’s always been you. You said it yourself…” Your words felt fragile as they hung between you, but you pressed on, desperate to make him understand. You tilted your head, brushing a featherlight kiss to his shoulder. The subtle gesture wasn’t missed—it made him exhale deeply, his posture softening as though a weight had lifted. His hand slid under the blanket, searching for yours. When his fingers finally found yours, he didn’t hesitate. His grip was firm, steady, and grounding, his thumb tracing slow circles against your knuckles. You didn’t care if they heard at this point, but you kept your words quiet just for him. “I’m sorry I haven’t shown you that,” you continued in a hushed tone, your voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. “That I haven’t acted like I’ve only ever been yours… because I am, I have been.” A tear slipped down your cheek, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. You felt his hand tighten around yours at the words, a silent acknowledgment that he’d heard you. He kept his gaze on the TV, his expression stoic as his other hand flexed on your shoulder. The world outside seemed to fade, the quiet hum of the game and the steady rhythm of your breathing cocooning you both in a fragile bubble. Trent didn’t speak, but his actions said enough. He wasn’t ready to forgive fully, and you didn’t expect him to. But the way he held you, the way his hand lingered in yours, and the subtle relaxation of his body against you told you one thing: he wasn’t giving up. For now, that would have to be enough as you let your eyes flutter closed, your exhaustion from the day catching up to you.

The room was cloaked in the dim glow of the TV, the late-night commentary muffled beneath the gentle hum of the world outside. Jack stretched, standing up from his spot, his movements quiet but deliberate. Layla had already disappeared to your room, and Noah was sprawled across the couch, fast asleep, his soft snores filling the silence. Jack’s gaze drifted to the two of you, curled up on the loveseat. You and Trent, fast asleep, nestled so comfortably close it looked almost innocent. Your head rested on Trent’s shoulder, his arm draped lazily over you, the blanket drawn up to your chins like you’d been caught mid-conversation and drifted off. Something about the scene tugged at Jack’s instincts, his brows furrowing slightly. He narrowed his eyes, lingering just long enough to feel a flicker of suspicion. But nothing seemed overtly wrong—just two people who’d clearly fallen asleep watching the game. Still, something didn’t sit right. Jack shook his head, chalking it up to exhaustion. He turned away, heading toward his room without another word. What he didn’t see, hidden beneath the blanket, hidden right under his nose, was the way Trent’s hand was wrapped securely around yours, fingers intertwined. Even in sleep, his grip was steadfast, as if silently vowing to hold on no matter what. Jack left it alone for now. But the questions in his mind were far from gone.

And finally the night of the awards came and it couldn’t have come at a more awkward time. Things were tense to say the least between you and Trent after the fight and the Man United game. And in an even more awkward twist Jack no longer had a conflict so he was home.  The living room was loud, buzzing with laughter and friendly chaos. Jack, Noah, and the rest of the group had taken over, sprawled across the sofas and armchairs, trading jabs and jokes. The scent of leftover pizza mingled with the faint cologne of too many boys packed into one space. The TV was on, but no one was really watching it; their attention was squarely on you as you descended the stairs in a Retrofête nude sheer maxi dress. It was covered in all over sequins, with an opened back, and a feathered hem. You wanted Trent to like it but you felt shy in front of all of his friends and your brother with your figure on full display  You’d spent longer than you wanted to admit getting ready, smoothing every detail, unsure if you even had the right to look forward to the night. Things with Trent were still unresolved, the fight hanging in the air like a storm cloud. But you wanted tonight to be different. You needed it to be.

“Go on!  Someone’s looking lush for their date with Trentski!” Noah hollered from the couch, clapping loudly as the rest of the boys joined in, whistling and cheering like kids at a school assembly. 

“It’s not a date mate… I was supposed to go,” Jack muttered, shoving Noah on the sofa. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face.

 “Alright, calm down,” you muttered, smoothing your dress and pretending their attention didn’t make you self-conscious. You felt like you were going to a year eight dance under the eyes of the boys. “Jack, T’s gonna be here soon, okay?” you reminded him, ignoring the comment. Your voice was steady, but your stomach churned with anticipation.

“Yeah, he texted. Don’t embarrass yourself tonight, yeah?” he teased with a smirk, dodging your halfhearted swat as you passed by him. The sound of tires crunching in the driveway made your heart skip. You straightened instinctively, glancing towards the door as your palms grew damp. The boys, oblivious to your inner turmoil, kept laughing and joking, but the sound faded as you focused on the moment about to unfold. And then the door opened. Trent stepped in, looking sharp in his tailored suit, his presence commanding without him even trying. The room seemed to still for just a second, the energy shifting. You caught his gaze, and despite everything, the corner of his mouth tugged up in that familiar, cocky smile.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 14 xx

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

[dreamscapeee222]

Hear me out, arcane characters reaction to reader being a traitor/ be on the opposite side of war

A/n: Ooh yeah mhm

You are a traitor

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi's heart sinks the moment she sees you standing on the opposite side of the battlefield. Her eyes narrow, disbelief and hurt flickering across her face.

“Really? After everything?” she calls out, her voice a mix of anger and betrayal.

She’s always been fiercely loyal, and seeing you align with her enemies feels like a personal stab. She storms toward you, fists clenched, prepared to fight—but she hesitates. You’re not just anyone.

“Why are you doing this?” she demands, desperation seeping into her tone. “We’re supposed to be on the same side!”

If you explain your reasoning, Vi struggles to process it. Even if she understands your motives, it doesn’t erase the pain. She’ll try to reason with you, to bring you back, but if you refuse, her trust in you shatters.

“You’re better than this,” she says softly before turning away, leaving both of you with an aching void where your bond used to be.

Jinx

Jinx takes it the hardest, her mind spiraling the second she learns of your betrayal. To her, loyalty is everything—and losing you feels like yet another cruel twist in her chaotic world.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she sneers, though her voice wavers. “You’re with them now?”

Her pain manifests as anger, and she’ll lash out at you with wild accusations and dangerous threats. But beneath the rage is a girl who feels abandoned, her fragile trust broken yet again.

“If you’re gonna turn your back on me, fine!” she shouts, her hands trembling as she grips her weapon. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

Jinx might try to prove a point by being even more reckless in battle, desperate to show she doesn’t need you. But deep down, every encounter with you on the opposing side chips away at her already fragile psyche.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s reaction is cold and calculating at first. She’s always been one to think logically, and she tries to approach your betrayal with the same mindset. But it doesn’t stop the ache in her chest.

“I trusted you,” she says quietly, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. “I believed in you.”

Caitlyn confronts you directly, trying to understand your reasoning. If she finds out you have a noble cause, she might wrestle with her emotions, torn between her duty and her lingering feelings for you.

“Do you really believe this is the right thing to do?” she asks, her voice softening.

But if your reasons seem selfish or misguided, Caitlyn won’t hesitate to do what she must to stop you. Her resolve hardens, and while it hurts her deeply, she’ll fight against you for the greater good.

Ekko

Ekko feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when he learns you’ve joined the opposing side. For someone who’s seen so much loss and betrayal, your defection feels like a personal failure.

“How could you do this?” he asks, his voice trembling. “You were part of us. Part of me.”

Ekko seeks answers, desperate to understand why you’ve turned against him. He’ll try to talk you down, appealing to the bond you once shared.

“This isn’t you,” he says firmly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. “Come back. It’s not too late.”

But if you refuse, Ekko won’t hold back. He fights with a heavy heart, every strike a reminder of what he’s lost. Still, he holds onto hope, believing that one day he can bring you back to his side.

Jayce

Jayce’s reaction is a mix of disbelief and anger. He’s someone who puts his trust in people, and your betrayal feels like a slap in the face.

“I thought we were fighting for the same thing,” he says, his voice laced with frustration. “What happened to you?”

Jayce tries to reason with you, relying on logic and shared ideals to sway you. He’s confident he can bring you back—at least at first.

“We can fix this,” he insists. “You don’t have to do this.”

But if you stand firm, Jayce’s resolve hardens. While he hates the idea of fighting you, his commitment to his cause outweighs his personal feelings.

“I won’t let you stand in the way of progress,” he says, though his voice wavers slightly.

Viktor

Viktor’s reaction is quiet and contemplative. He doesn’t confront you immediately, instead trying to piece together your motives on his own.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” he admits when he finally speaks to you, his tone neutral but his eyes filled with disappointment.

Viktor tries to appeal to your intellect, presenting logical arguments against your actions. He believes he can convince you to see things his way, and he approaches the situation with an almost clinical detachment.

“You’re making a mistake,” he says calmly. “But it’s not too late to correct it.”

If you don’t budge, Viktor’s disappointment deepens, but he won’t let it cloud his judgment. He’ll fight against you if he has to, though it’s clear the decision weighs heavily on him.

Mel

Mel’s reaction is subtle but no less powerful. She masks her emotions well, but beneath her composed exterior is a deep sense of betrayal.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” she says softly, her tone measured. “I thought you believed in what we were building.”

Mel doesn’t waste time with emotional pleas. Instead, she tries to outmaneuver you, using her cunning and strategic mind to counter your actions. But in private moments, the weight of your betrayal hits her hard.

“Was it all a lie?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mel respects your choices, even if she doesn’t agree with them. But she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her vision, even if it means standing against you.

See pinned.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“The mahjong tiles are new,” Cissie observes, watching Tim just a shade too sharply. He internally hopes the others get here soon. He and Cissie arrived about the same time, and when she texted Bart to remind him they were all meeting up he showed up five seconds later, and Suzie was excited to see them but almost immediately ran off to get something. And Cassie and Kon had both said they’d be late–Cassie’s mom made her stay home for dinner, and Kon had just said something about something called “the Evil Factory” and a mission report he had to finish and then hung up without elaborating, which had totally not made Tim quietly insane or anything. 

The Evil Factory. What. What even is that? 

Tim needs to look into some things, clearly. 

“I’ve learned not to ask,” Tim says, and the look Cissie is giving him turns very pointed. 

“But you’re asking me about school?” she says. 

“Yes,” Tim says, because it’s not like she’s not perfectly aware he just did that, but also he doesn’t actually have to explain himself, so he just stops there. 

Cissie stares blankly at him. Tim keeps a neutral but approachable expression on his face. Filling an awkward silence is the first mistake any witness–or suspect–makes. 

She narrows her eyes, just barely, then opens her mouth to speak and–

“CISSIE,” Cassie wails from down the hall, and a second later she’s bolting into the room at full-speed and throwing herself at Cissie. Tim reflexively grabs for his bo and Cissie grabs for her–uh, bow–and Cassie makes an absolutely agonized noise and buries her face in Cissie’s lap. “I quit. I quit the team. I’m gonna ask Wonder Woman if I can move to Themyscira and I am never coming back.” 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks, just barely raising his eyebrows behind his mask. Maybe not a supervillain attack, then. 

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t, actually,” Cissie says. “So like is this about your mom or–?” 

“Kon’s wearing clothes,” Cassie cuts her off despairingly, voice muffled in her folded arms and Cissie’s lap. 

“. . . I mean, I’d hope so?” Cissie says, patting the top of Cassie’s wig with a bewildered.expression as she sets her bow back down on the table. Tim–well, he might not hope that Kon was–never mind. But that seems like a pretty weird answer to that question either way. 

“You don’t understand,” Cassie groans. “I ran into him outside–he’s texting somebody or something, I don’t know, he said he was gonna be a minute–and he said ‘hi’ and he was wearing clothes and I tripped! I tripped in mid-air! I tripped in mid-air and he tried to help me up and I think I blacked out or something and then he laughed and he’s wearing clothes, Cissie!” 

Tim feels like maybe this is in some way “girl talk” and he shouldn’t necessarily be here, but also: what the hell is Cassie talking about? 

He also wonders who Kon’s texting and has the vaguely-annoyed thought that Cadmus might be bothering him or something. 

The subtle alert that means someone just texted Tim Drake’s phone goes off on his communicator and he makes a mental note to check it as soon as he can get a moment–it might be Dana or Mrs. Mac, or maybe one of the guys at school needs something, or . . . well, it could be his dad, technically, but statistically that’s not very likely, so– 

. . . why does he feel like he’s missing something right now, he thinks to himself, repressing a frown. What would he be missing? 

“Question: is this response proportional, or is this a ‘Code Superboy’ situation?” Cissie says. Cassie just groans all the more despairingly into her arms, not lifting her head at all. 

“This is a code black Superboy situation,” she says, and Cissie winces and pats her head again. Assuming their definition of “code black” aligns with Tim’s, that means “panic reaction; breakdown of mental/physical responses and capabilities”. So . . . yeah, that seems like a weird answer too. Just because Kon’s . . . what, outside and doing whatever he’s doing on his phone? While . . . wearing clothes? 

Tim really does not understand this conversation, yeah. 

Definitely a girl thing, he decides.

[rhiannonsknife]

── ౿🕸️ spidey!jackie taylor

— i wrote this back when i made these moodboards and never posted it. so have some spidey!jackie before i start my christmas series tomorrow <3

rain pours in steadily as you huddle beneath the crumbling awning of a fire escape, trembling from the adrenaline of the attack. your mind races, replaying the moment when the woman swooped in, her sleek red-and-blue suit a blur as she disarmed your attacker and sent them running with a sharp kick and a web-shot to the wall.

and now she’s back, hanging upside down from thread, the dim streetlights catching on the rain-slicked fabric of her mask.

“are you okay?” her voice is slightly muffled by the mask, but there’s a lightness to her tone that calms you.

“y-yeah, i think so,” you stammer, the words stumbling clumsy from your mouth. your heart pounds for entirely different reasons now as you stare at her from up close, your mysterious savior dangling casually in front of you as if this is just another night for her.

“you’re shaking,” she points out, tilting her head slightly. “you sure you’re not hurt?”

you shake your head, your hands still clutched tightly to your coat. “no, i’m fine. because of you. god, i don’t even know how to thank you…”

jackie (though you don’t know her identity yet) chuckles softly. “there’s no need!” she assures “comes with the job description”

your gaze flickers to her mask, where her lips are covered. there’s something about her presence that’s both comforting and electrifying at the same time. like being in the presence of a friend, of somebody familiar. “can i…can i at least know who you are?” you ask.

“no can do,” she replies, playful but firm. “the whole mask thing kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”

you smile despite yourself and the shock. “right. of course. spider…girl? spiderwoman?”

“something like that.” she shrugs -as much as she can while hanging upside down. “but if it helps, you can just call me your friendly neighborhood-“

“hero,” you interrupt softly, the word hanging between you like the raindrops suspended on her web.

for a moment, you both hesitate, before your voice breaks through the steady rhythm of the downpour. “do you trust me?”

the question seems to catch her off guard: her head tilts slightly, and even though you can’t see her expression, you sense the slight tension in her frame. “what?”

“do you trust me?” you repeat, softer this time, your hand hovering near the base of her mask. you meet her gaze (or what you imagine to be her gaze through the white lenses) and there’s a long, charged moment before she nods.

taking a deep breath, you reach up and gently peel the mask past her lips, just enough to reveal them. a soft, pink curve against the bright red of her suit. her breath hitches audibly as you step closer, tilting your head to align your face with hers despite the strange, upside-down angle.

you’ll have to thank this stranger somehow, for what she’s done tonight. and, since you don’t know her identity, or anything else about her except for the frequent reports of the local newspaper, this is the next best thing you can think of.

your heart pounds as you lean in, lips brushing hers. tentatively at first, and then fully when she doesn’t pull pack. the kiss is warm, despite the cold rain; it’s delicate, every drop of tension between you melting where your lips meet hers. the woman presses into you slightly, and you can feel her gloved fingers tighten briefly on the webline keeping her suspended. your own hand still sits on her masked cheek, feeling the soft fabric of her suit against your skin.

when you finally pull back, you glance at her face, and even with the mask obscuring most of it, you can tell she’s staring at you. you wish you could see more than just her parted lips.

“stay safe, y/n” she murmurs, her voice softer and barely audible.

you never told her your name.

before you can say anything, she tugs the mask back into place and shoots another web into the night. with a graceful arc, she swings away, leaving you standing there, heart racing and lips tingling.

[pinkslipxox]

Billie getting tattoos for her children fic??

Ummm yes of course! That’s a must. Hope you like it 🥰

——————————————————————————

The dimly lit tattoo parlor buzzed softly with the sounds of needles whirring and music playing in the background. Billie sat in the tattoo artist's chair, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She glanced over at Y/N, who was sitting in the chair next to her, their fingers intertwined. Y/N’s presence was a calming force amidst the excitement; Billie felt grounded simply by holding her hand.

“Are you ready for this?” Y/N asked, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Billie looked down at their hands, admiring how perfectly they fit together. She nodded, a grin spreading across her face.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” Billie replied, her excitement bubbling over. “I can’t wait to get their names, Ava and Mia, right here.” She placed her free hand over her heart, feeling its soft thrum as thoughts of her daughters filled her mind.

Billie’s eyes sparkled with affection as she spoke about them. “They’re so amazing, Y/N. I can’t believe how lucky we are. Every day they surprise me with their little personalities”—she chuckled, a light blush tinting her cheeks—“and honestly, I just want the world to know how proud I am to be their mom.”

Y/N’s heart melted at Billie’s words. She could see the joy and love radiating off of her wife. “I feel the same way,” she replied softly, squeezing Billie's hand. “They’re lucky to have you as their mom, Billie. You're incredible.”

Billie turned her gaze back to Y/N, her emerald eyes shimmering with adoration. She leaned over and pressed a tender kiss against Y/N’s cheek, whispering, “You make this all possible, mama.” The use of ‘mama’ warmed Y/N’s heart, and her cheeks flushed with love.

As the tattoo artist began to prepare the needles, Billie took a deep breath, still holding onto Y/N’s hand. “We’re making this permanent,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “A forever reminder of our girls and this incredible family we’ve built.”

The needle buzzed to life, and Billie winced slightly as the artist began their work. She glanced at Y/N, who was watching intently, her eyes filled with admiration. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, trying to hide her lingering nerves. “This is for Ava and Mia, right?”

“And for us,” Y/N added, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Every little thing we do is for them.”

Billie felt a wave of affection wash over her as she looked at Y/N, who had always been her rock. “You’re the best partner I could ever ask for, you know that?” she said, her voice soft yet sincere. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As the tattoo needle continued to trace the letters on her skin, Billie shared stories of her daughters, her voice filled with warmth. “Ava is so sassy—she’s definitely going to rule the world one day. And Mia, oh my gosh, with the way she giggles at everything…”

Y/N laughed along, their hearts swelling with shared memories. They were both lost in the joy of parenthood, enveloped in the sweetness of their love.

After what felt like no time at all—a whirlwind of laughter and stories—Billie looked down at her wrist, where the names of her daughters now etched into her skin with elegant strokes. She felt a rush of emotion and instantly turned towards Y/N, her eyes glistening.

“Do you see them?” she breathed, awe in her voice. “They’re with me always now. Just like us.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full to bursting at the sight of Billie’s shimmering eyes. “Always, baby. Always.”

Billie leaned in, pressing her forehead against Y/N’s, their fingers still tightly woven together. “Thank you for this moment, for everything. For being the most amazing mama to our girls.”

In that small tattoo parlor, surrounded by love and family, Billie knew they were truly blessed. With Y/N by her side, the journey of motherhood felt like an extraordinary adventure—one they would cherish and celebrate forever.

[damiansgoodgirll]

i know you said you were still elaborating smackdown but did you see raw? i have a request but it might contain spoilers? i don’t know how you feel about that sort of thing so i thought i should give a warning :)

may i request…

reader comforting rhea after the little argument with her war-games team. reader sees how worked up rhea is getting over war-games . reader try’s to get rhea to relax and not be in her head so much. yes she wants to get back at liv and raquel, but she needs to stay focused, and not go into the fight with blind rage. because she might injure herself more and hows she supposed to get the title back if shes all broken and injured??

plz rhea seems so worked up she needs to take it easy before she breaks herself T_T. -xoxox anon

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️nothing major, some anxiety from rhea side, comfort, love and fluff overall

the leader

“this is gonna be a mess” rhea kept whispering as she paced back and forth through the small changing room.

“rhea, you gotta calm down…everything is going to be fine” you tried to calm her down but she wasn’t listening anybody but her mind in that moment.

“how? jade is injured, bayley took her spot last minute, i still argue with bianca. how do you expect me to calm down? the match is gonna be a total disaster…” rhea was anxious. she hardly trusted the girls on her team and the only person she wanted by her side was you. unfortunately you got a mild injury a few weeks ago and you were still recovering before being cleared out to fight again.

“bianca will come around eventually. bayley and naomi trust you. iyo practically adores you. you’re gonna be a great leader, i know that rhea…just have a little faith in yourself” you smiled, patting the empty spot next to you on the couch.

reluctantly she sat next to you “how do you know that?”

“because you led me to be the wrestler i am today” you smiled at her “you believed in me, you fought hard to get me where i am today in the company, that’s why i know that. you’re a good leader and i know war games is gonna be a success, i just know it” you had faith in rhea. you knew what she was capable of.

eventually she calmed down. laying her head down on your shoulder, you brought your hand into her dark hair, softly massaging her scalp “relax baby…everything gonna be okay” you whispered softly, feeling her body relaxed against you and into your touch.

but the days leading to the match weren’t exactly as you imagined them.

rhea and the team were training very hard. you knew how bad rhea wanted to have her revenge on liv and raquel, that’s the main reason she joined the team, but you had to remind her multiple times that this match wasn’t only about her, it was about the team, that she had to cooperate and help her teammates to win.

when the day of the match came, you noticed how tense rhea was.

“you ready mami?” you asked her as she was getting ready backstage.

you saw her reluctantly nodding “yeah…”

“rhea?”

“it’s just…i feel like they had more time to prepare themselves and come up with a better plan…” she was doubting herself.

“have you noticed something off during these past weeks? something that might make liv’s team crumble?” you knew that liv’s team was selfish and everyone was playing for themselves. you needed rhea to notice that too.

“raquel will try to stop me from attacking liv” she breathed out “candace and tiffany don’t go along to well, and tiffany is still looking to cash in” you saw the concentration in her eyes “oh, and nia can’t really fight”

“good. that’s good, use that in your favour. you know their weak spots, use them against them” you said “so now, let me ask you again…are you ready?”

“yeah…yeah, i’m so fucking ready” you smiled at her while she put her mask on. she looked incredibly hot with that gear on and you couldn’t stop looking at her “what you looking at?” she asked, clearly amused.

“oh, just about the gift you’re gonna get once you win this match” you winked at her, leaving her speechless as you left the changing room.

rhea needed time with her teammates.

they needed to talk about the plan, the tactics they were going to use.

and you gave them all the time they needed.

you stayed backstage watching anyone’s entrance. rhea was fabulous as always. you saw how rhea pumped her girls up and you couldn’t be prouder. she was a great leader, anyone saw it except herself.

as the match began, you noticed how rhea was letting all of her teammates go first, leaving her behind to be the last. you heard from time to time rhea encouraging the girls from the cage.

you knew she had this match in her hands.

her time came as she rushes into the steel cage. she was fabulous. you saw her confidence growing as she started doing what she can do best.

and the moment liv stepped into the ring, you knew it was over for her and her team.

rhea fought through pain and tears.

there were a few moments where you thought that liv’s team was going to win, you saw how tired the girls were but they never stopped fighting.

her team fought hard and they managed to get the win back home.

you happily cheered backstage.

jumping up and down, you saw how happy she was.

you couldn’t be prouder.

they did it. rhea did it.

you didn’t expect to come directly to you - knowing that she would be full with interviews and post victory photos - but the moment she won, her mind began racing and thinking about you.

you felt her arms coming from behind and you slightly jumped before hearing her comforting voice “i did it” she whispered in your ears.

you didn’t have to turn around to know that she had a big smile on her face but eventually, you turned to face her and her big smile melted you.

“you did it mami” you whispered, seeing her nodding.

“and that’s because of you…you believed in me when no one else did, when i was doubting myself, you were there to help me up…thank you” she smiled softly before leaning her face down to meet your lips. she was soft, delicate.

“you did it because you are amazing rhea, you and your team did an incredible job, you deserve this” you whispered against her lips, seeing her smile even more.

before she could kiss you again, you heard bayley’s voice coming from behind.

“sorry to interrupt but they are looking for you rhea, we gotta do some interviews” she said a little awkward, feeling sorry to interrupt.

“go” you whispered “go and have your moment, i have something planned for us tonight” you winked before kissing her softly.

she smiled, a genuine smile that was rare coming from her.

she waved at you before leaving the room with bayley.

you watched the whole press conference with a big smile on your face. you saw how everyone was happy to have rhea in the team. you saw how her and bianca got along together. you saw how she gained her team trust and confidence, how they all smiled at her.

this was a big moment for her - her big moment and you couldn’t be happier.

[localshe]

JEALOUSY k. martin

► sum. maybe dancing with a stranger on her birthday wasn’t really ideal. you had no clue she’ll be making you dance on top of her instead.

wc. idfk

warnings. fem! reader, escalates briefly, strap-on, dirty talk, masturbation, fingering, petnames, praise, breeding kink.

an. the long awaited fic has arrived. i keep rereading it and half makes no sense so im js posting this for ygs sake. you’ll see that in some parts i got lazy and whatnot, maybe even repeated shit (idk) but i hope you enjoy this mess <3

(this is not proofread)

•••

two warm hands found home on your hips, swaying against a crotch that you were unfamiliar with. you didn’t care tho, not when the alcohol tasted like chocolate, and not when the music got louder.

you let the alcohol take control over you, returning the favor by leading your feet to the dance floor with jada and gabbie, but that was ten minutes ago.

the both of them disappeared somewhere else when a man asked you to dance with him— which you of course were vulnerable enough to not say no.

and thats how your practically on the man, in a euphoric state while you smiled in bliss. the club becoming hazy at how fast your dancing, the both of you sharing small words to make this moment funner.

‘the motto’ by drake started to blare around the club, people immediately started to cheer, even monika, caitlin and jada joining you.

and when jada had suggested that kate should join in, you had just locked eyes with her.

her tall, vigorous figure — immobile, leaning against a wall. her eyes roamed both of yours’ bodies, especially counting the centimeters between your ass and his belt.

growing nervous, finally leaving the group, you amble to your girlfriend—found green-eyed and eager to brawl the guy who was presently trying to find you in the misty forest of drunk individuals like you.

you ignored the neurotic adulation spreading inside your stomach, going for a kiss just to get dogged, and you scoff. in utter disbelief on how someone can decline your lips, or how kate declined your lips with such dexterity.

“uh, what the fuck?” you furrow your brows, and almost instantly kate bit her lip, subtly shaking her head, not appreciating ur poor, drunken anger. instead—she gripped your forearm to her car.

confusion filled your mind.

what type of confusion? the type to swiftly snatch her firm hand away and stand still with crossed arms as you questioned out loud the questions that devised inside your brain rather quickly.

first it was . . “kate why don’t we just go back inside?”

second — “why are we- uhp leaving?”

then — “you didn’t even say bye to everyone.”

which led to — “hello? stop laugh-i-ing and answer me!”

through hiccups, you tried your best to get a point a-cross. only earning sarcastic laughter. “get in the car baby girl,” kate softly told you, eyes alleviated as she awaited for your future steps.

and even tho she had appeared to change into the natural kate that would never force you to do anything, there was a tiny ogle of sour in her smile.

so you decided to get in the car, choosing a safe path because it felt more secure. you didn’t know what would happen in the next minutes, you didn’t wanna know.

but oh, you knew when you were founded sprawled, back domed beautifully as the whet nail prodded at your bundle of nerves briskly.

it was so sudden.

she was stretching you out hefty, not letting you take any chances to take a deep breath.

“shiiiiit!” two fingers messaged your walls around and around and around, controlling your hormones that already felt like they were doing something to you.

but nothing like kate slowly taking her fingers out of you painfully obtuse, a splatter sound rumbling around the room, “tch, he made you this wet?” she queried, keened bitter emanated from her tone.

and that made you wonder . . was she jealous?

the mention of a guy left you confused, but you didn’t have enough time to operate her words when she stood up, sighing as she took off those suffocating, derided gray sweatpants that hung low the whole night, proudly showing off the sexy calvin klein boxers.

you felt a big throb nictate your red, cushioned clit when kate had gotten her strap ready.

“oh, you thought you were just gonna get a good fuck like that?” she pouted in pure sarcasm, snapping her fingers to dictate on how quick it could’ve gone, “after letting a stranger touch you? really mama?” smacking her teeth, shaking her head in lost disappointment.

now you started to shake your head, about to disapprove her own sightseeings when she met your lips, quickly covering her cheeks with your hands, a needy whimper radiating off your chest, missing the downy lips.

and even though you still felt confused, slightly getting distracted by the make out sesh, kate was leisurely steering your right hand to ur dripping core.

a sharp bite to her bottom lip from the abrupt surprise had gotten her to stand up, interrupting the kiss you craved since she had rudely dogged you.

she sat down on the rolling chair in front of the desk board, facing your hitherto broken soul that was struggling to keep calm on the bed, hardly ever accomplishing that when you felt her sullen hooded eyes paint all over you.

you didn’t need to ask what to do, it wasn’t the first time. although, it feels like it from the dull atmosphere that was very rare to be surrounded by.

you felt your walls tightening, a slow frenzy walking across your brain as her sharp gaze was attacking all of you. everything in the room dissolved when you converged eyes.

she was looking at you, nowhere else. not even at your hand that was rapidly doing the job. her eyes trained onto yours, like if it was the last time she was ever gonna see you.

you couldn’t look at her anymore, because if you did you’ll fall apart miserably.

“eyes on me, sweetheart.” she murmured, tiling her head slightly.

you mewl as ur clit becomes nervous, tensing from time to time as you deny your own orgasms, waiting for the permission you await.

“mh’ aren’t you just so nice,” she flashed you a small smile that almost instantly disappeared, “so nice you practically let a man’s dick poke that ass.” she chuckled, a noise brimful of tenebrous.

you can’t blame kate for being sarcastic, i mean — why would you let a man even dance you away? you have a whole girlfriend that can dance wayyyy better than him. and frankly better in general.

“i couldn’t find yo-“ “bullshit sweetheart, we both know you didn’t even try to ask me.” kate cut you off, smiling with hoaxed pride.

she didn’t wanna hear your taciturn excuses that had no big impact on her. only helping the envious hunch brainwashing her good.

“all fours.” she demanded, rough tone ringed to your ears as you found trouble trying to prevent your legs from shaking. your clit was swollen, denied, and abused just now and you were sure kate isn’t that jealous, right?

you felt a little tap, and before you could comprehend, kate was dumbing you down relentlessly.

one hand clasped your right hip as for the other one was buried in your hair, yanking it to pull it back, giving her a hint of how dumb you instantly get on her vastly lubricious strap — soaked of your juices.

“aw, fuc’ kaaayy..” you whine, hopeless underneath her firm will, handling what felt like the worlds hardest thrusts in ancient history, or a somewhat record. it didn’t matter much when you felt her grin peck ur spine with no mercy.

she nearly chuckled, “atta girl,” she grumbled, soflty smacking your ass, jiggling all over her face. pushing out til the tip annoys your other lips, her thumb gathering every single drop of ur mess, “mmmh she’s s’ wet,” she purred, savoring ur sweet precum that was almost spilling from her hand.

every drop of energy was gone, letting ur chest repose while the woman behind you was in less than five seconds gonna make you (s)cream. just by not giving you any warning, she had rammed into you. hard and sharp.

it was almost life changing.

kate even hissed, ur tight warm walls pawed her strap, fueling a sudden wave of urge to fucking bite ur fresh unmarked neck.

licking a stripe on your earlobe, “on my birthday too?” you heard the intensity plop from kate’s tongue, soon to be chuckling as she pulled out, letting you breath for only a split second before she gasped a deep thrust out of you.

you had no pulse to feel guilty, kate was giving you a taste of her own medicine.

her right hand slithered up to your neck, grasping it with little force unlike her yawned plunges impacting your g-spot greatly.

“i’m s-sssorry—kate- fuck,” pathetic.

there was no use to apologize, you were done for.

she shook her head once again, pulling out to leave you whining, the emptiness making you push back for any friction. although, kate was sitting low against the headboard now, manspreading as she called for you with two fingers in the air, pursuing you to get in between her aroma.

you heel sat, submitting to the woman currently rubbing ur jaw with the thumb she used to gather ur sweet juices. her head slightly tilted, and with siren eyes she scrutinized the hell out you.

biting her lip subtly, she dragged her thumb in your mouth, forcing you to suck on it. you comply without any questions, eyes forum as ur tongue twisted all around.

kate smirked, “cute.”

she muttered, nodding mildly, a silent way of letting you know that ur doing well for her.

you beamed, and just then — she nudged her thumb far in your throat. no warning as you slightly chocked, coughing as tears brimmed your eyes.

looking up at her with shocketh, “making you practice for later ‘s all.” she shrugged, thumb no longer in your mouth.

“cmon, ride me.” kate instructed, nodding down as she spied you, gripping ur hips to help you steady on her standing strap, soon disappearing inside ur warm, damp pussy.

you cried out, sinking into the trap of kate martin.

you leaned back, one hand on her lower torso as the other one comfortably rested on kate’s right knee. swaying your hips back ‘n forth, presenting all of you.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. aligning yourself immaculately on her cock.

feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against her vexed reddened tip makes her head slightly toss back in the feral torture.

she brings her hands to your hips, messaging them softly, tracing the word ‘mine’ with her cold fingers. she watched you eagerly make two solid taut bucks against her.

“what? don’t tell me she’s already tired,” a weepy reproachful tone echoed from kate, and you started to whine in embarrassment.

“i- no- pleeeeassssse” you sang, both lungs ready to collapse. she’s huge - just barely you started riding her and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums.

from that, you try to slow down — only proving yourself adored failure when you go nimble. it was clear your own body was betraying you. your motivation to not disappoint kate furthermore was faint. 

you were sure—just one more single hard thrust and you’d probably break, “aw, your legs are gettin’ weak so soon. tappin’ out, princess?”

“ kate, ‘m cummin’,” you blurt out when she pinned her thumb on ur clit, rubbing small hasty circles, collecting every face you make. strings of glowy drool depart from your lips, letting her thrash the swollen tip against your g-spot.

“you gonna let me cum in ya?” kate slurred, her hot breath fanning over your bouncy boobs that had been giving her a show she wanted to watch again.

you sobbed a throaty moan, the insanity to have her cum inside you was something you craved.

immediately you had nodded, head thrown back as the idea of having kids with her cranked you up to make her cum.

“yea- yes! pl’pl’plea’!” you let off a plethora of sweetened fusses as her cock scrapes its way through your gummy walls onerously before you abruptly squall. “f- fuuuuck!”

a pretty, glistening geyser sprays out between your thighs, and your expression is priceless.

kate remained inside you as she watched you whine out those needy raw sobs, that alone impacting her to gush out her load, thrusting up as she breathed out a groan, your tightness bringing her extreme pleasure.

you couldn’t think straight—you could only taste the treacly sweet tang of fresh cum on your bud as your head flops onto the bed. “o- oh my god,” you puff, feeling your wobbly thighs soak with slimy molasses of yours’ sweet.

“m-mh’- don’t lay down, darling, m’ not done with you.”

an. feedback & reblogs are v appreciated!

[spanktony]

SUNDAY MORNINGS - huh yunjin

summary: a sunday morning with your girlfriend.

words: 1.1k+

warnings: established!relationship, kissing, fake dutch ovening yunjin lmao, gn!reader

notes: first time writing for yunjin so plz request for more. i also need to make a masterlist ik ik

navigation. request.

sunday mornings were always peaceful, it was the only days both you and yunjin’s schedules collided. the only days where you could wake up and the space next to you be warm.

letting out a soft yawn, you stretch your legs under the blankets, careful not to disturb her. turning your head, you catch a glimpse of yunjin’s serene face, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks as she slept. her arm was draped over your waist, as if even in her dreams, she didn’t want to let you go.

the morning light spilled softly into the room, highlighting the stray strands of her messy hair and the faint curve of her lips. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of her so peaceful and close.

you don’t know how long you were staring until a loud ringing jolted you from the quiet moment. your phone, buzzing insistently on the nightstand, shattered the peaceful stillness of the room. yunjin stirred beside you, her brows furrowing as a soft groan escaped her lips.

you quickly grabbed the phone, silencing the intrusive noise with a few swipes. setting it back down, you glanced at yunjin, who was already peeking up at you through sleepy eyes.

“sorry,” you whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

she shook her head with a small smile and tightened her arm around your waist. “it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice soft and laced with sleep.

“you were snoring,” you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

yunjin’s eyes narrowed as she let out a soft gasp, feigning offense. “i do not snore!”

“you do,” you insisted, biting back a laugh. “it’s kind of cute, though.”

“cute?” she huffed, her cheeks tinting a faint pink as she buried her face back into your shoulder. “you’re lucky i love you, or i’d kick you out of bed.”

you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around her as she grumbled into your skin.

“have you heard of a dutch oven?” you mumbled, slowly slipping away from your girlfriend’s grasps. her eyebrows furrow in response, and it looks like she’s digging in the back of her mind to figure out what you meant.

you can't help but chuckle at her confused expression.

“a dutch oven?” she repeated, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “is that some kind of cooking technique?”

you shake your head, still smiling. “no, it’s... well, it’s when you trap someone under the blankets and—”

her eyes widen in realization, and she pulls back to give you a mock glare. “you wouldn’t dare!”

“wouldn’t i?” you tease, inching closer to the edge of the bed, plotting your playful attack.

yunjin’s laughter bubbles up, brightening the room even more than the morning light. “you’re terrible!”

“that’s rude to say!” you joke, feigning seriousness as you inch closer to her, the blankets shifting ominously.

yunjin squints at you, her mock glare transforming into a playful smirk. “you wouldn’t. you love me too much.”

“that’s debatable,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you make an exaggerated motion of lifting the blankets.

her gasp is dramatic, but her laughter spills out uncontrollably. “no! please!” she cries, trying to wiggle away, but you’re faster.

in one swift move, you trap the both of you under the blankets, the muffled giggles and exaggerated complaints, and the unmistakable sound of your fake fart noises.

“ew! stop!” yunjin shrieks, her voice high-pitched as she dissolves into laughter. “you’re so gross!”

you release the blankets, letting them fall back down as you laugh at the girl under you. “i wasn’t actually farting!”

yunjin’s hand doesn’t move from blocking her nostrils, her face scrunched up in a way that only makes her look even cuter.

plopping back down next to her, you let out a tired sigh content with the warmth and peace.

yunjin moves her arm to rest on your stomach, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. you turn your head to look at her, the soft curve of her lips, her eyes locked with yours.

it felt right. everything about her felt right. the two of you lay like that for a while, just enjoying the peace, the soft sounds of the other breathing. your fingers find their way to her hair, brushing the soft strands from her face. her eyes flutter shut at the contact, her head moving closer to your hand.

after a moment, yunjin speaks up. her voice is barely a whisper, as if afraid that speaking louder would break the perfect moment.

“i would kiss you but morning breath.” snickering, you reach over towards your nightstand, trying not to leave her embrace as you grab a pack of mints. your hands knock over your keys and probably a few other items you placed on there the night before.

yunjin's soft laugh is enough for you to keep rummaging until you find what you were looking for.

finally, you pull out the small pack of mints, holding it up triumphantly. wiggling your eyebrows, you shake the pack gently.

yunjin raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a playful smile. “you’re really prepared for everything, huh?”

“yep,” you reply, popping one into your mouth before offering the pack to her. she takes one, sitting up slightly as she does, her hair falling messily around her shoulders.

after a moment of dramatic chewing, she leans closer, her lips brushing yours softly. the kiss is gentle, warm, and unhurried, a perfect match for the lazy sunday morning.

before you pull apart, she begins to chase your lips, as if trying to draw out the kiss. you can't help but laugh, leaning back, your lips stretching into a grin.

yunjin pouts, her brows furrowing in mock frustration as you lean away. “hey,” she grumbles.

“hm?” you reply with a smirk, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “i gave you one kiss, and now you’re greedy.”

she huffs, crossing her arms but unable to hide the smile creeping onto her lips. “can you blame me?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

you laugh, shaking your head as you lean back down beside her. “fine, come here,” you say, pulling her close again. she doesn’t hesitate, wrapping her arms around you and pressing another quick, playful kiss to your lips.

“see?” she whispers against your mouth. “not greedy. just appreciative.”

the two of you dissolve into quiet laughter, her head falling back to rest against your shoulder. you can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing as the peaceful silence returns, broken only by the faint rustling of the blankets.