#you know now that i think about it. the lyrics are so simple | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pdriesta · 10 hours ago

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CHAPTER SIX

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

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

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

word count — 8k

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

an — to the anons, thank you for waiting! let me know your thoughts

masterlist

y/n sat in the studio, her gaze fixed on the notepad in front of her. the pages were filled with half-written lyrics, scribbled thoughts, and abandoned ideas. her pen hovered over the paper, but nothing came. her mind was a foggy mess, swirling with emotions she didn’t know how to articulate. she felt like a stranger in her own skin, carrying a weight too heavy to bear.

the familiar hum of the studio equipment was a small comfort, but it didn’t stop the ache in her chest or the lump in her throat. she hadn’t spoken to anyone—not zaia, not anyone. the thought of sharing what had happened felt unbearable. she didn’t even know how to put it into words.

even cassius had tried to reach out a few times, sending her encouraging texts and asking if she wanted to go out with him and zaia despite his busy schedule and desire to spend alone time with his fiancée, but she ignored him. and trent... just thinking about him made her stomach twist painfully.

he’s nothing but a reminder of what i let happen. how could i have been so stupid?

y/n scribbled a line on the paper, then crossed it out angrily. the frustration bubbled up, but it wasn’t just about the music. it was everything. the loneliness. the silence. the echo of her own thoughts.

she was so lost in it all that she didn’t even hear the door open.

“y/n?”

she startled, looking up to see ayesha standing in the doorway, her brows furrowed in concern. “hey,” y/n said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

ayesha stepped inside, closing the door behind her. she set her bag down on the couch and folded her arms, her sharp gaze fixed on y/n. “what’s going on with you?”

“what do you mean?” y/n asked, avoiding her eyes.

“don’t play dumb,” ayesha said, her tone firm but not unkind. “you’ve been completely out of it. you and trent were doing so well. you had plans—events, appearances, everything. now he’s not even speaking to me, and his brother won’t stop calling me, bombarding me with questions about what’s going on.”

y/n’s stomach sank, and she looked down at the notepad in front of her, unable to meet ayesha’s gaze. “i’m just... going through a lot right now.”

“yeah, no kidding,” ayesha said, taking a seat across from her. “so, what is it? what happened?”

y/n hesitated, her mind racing for an answer—any answer that wasn’t the truth. she couldn’t tell ayesha about the night with trent, about how everything had unraveled since then. she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name.

“i... i’ve been struggling,” she said finally, her voice shaky. “mentally, i mean. i’ve been missing my family a lot. i feel... alone.”

ayesha’s expression softened slightly, but there was still a hint of skepticism in her eyes. “have you been seeing your therapist?”

y/n shook her head. “not recently.”

“then maybe it’s time to start again,” ayesha said. “you need to talk to someone, y/n. this isn’t like you. and i get it—being away from family is hard. feeling alone is hard. but you signed a contract. you have to hold up your end of the deal.”

y/n nodded slowly, her chest tightening. she wanted to tell ayesha that it wasn’t just about her family, that the loneliness she felt was so much deeper than that. but she couldn’t.

ayesha sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i’ll give you the weekend. take some time, figure out whatever you need to figure out. but after that, you and trent need to meet. it’s been too long, and people are starting to notice.”

y/n’s heart sank even further at the thought. seeing him again felt like the last thing she could handle, but she nodded anyway, knowing she didn’t have a choice.

“okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible.

ayesha gave her a long look, then stood up. “you’ve got this, y/n. just... don’t shut yourself off from everyone, okay? talk to someone. even if it’s not me.”

y/n nodded again, forcing a weak smile as ayesha grabbed her bag and left the studio.

the moment the door closed, y/n let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping. she stared down at the notepad in front of her, the empty lines taunting her.

she picked up her pen, but her hand trembled, and she set it back down. she couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. all she could do was sit there, the silence of the studio pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t escape.

the stadium was buzzing with energy, the crowd electric as the match progressed. y/n slipped into her seat quietly, pulling the hood of her jacket further over her head to shield herself from any wandering eyes. it wasn’t her usual scene anymore. not since everything between her and trent had unraveled in ways she still couldn’t fully process.

she hadn’t planned to be there. honestly, she didn’t even know why she came. but sitting at home, drowning in her thoughts and the heavy weight of loneliness, had pushed her to move. the match seemed like a safe enough distraction, even if it wasn’t entirely safe for her heart.

trent was on the pitch, commanding attention with every touch of the ball. he looked good—he always looked good—but it was more than that. there was an ease to the way he moved, a confidence that came naturally to him.

when halftime came, she stayed in her seat, watching as the players disappeared down the tunnel. her chest tightened at the sight of him walking off with his teammates, his jersey clinging to his back. she wondered if he’d seen her. if he’d even care.

the second half kicked off, and it wasn’t long before trent’s sharp eyes caught hers. it was brief—a flicker, a moment—but she felt it. the way his gaze lingered, his lips twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

the final whistle blew, the crowd erupting in cheers, and y/n stood, debating whether to slip away unnoticed or stay. but as she turned to leave, a staff member approached her, holding a note.

“trent asked me to give this to you,” they said, handing her the small slip of paper.

her heart raced as she unfolded it.

wait for me in the family tunnel. i want to see you. please. - t

she hesitated, her fingers tightening around the note. part of her wanted to ignore it, to leave and avoid the inevitable conversation. but another part—a quieter, more vulnerable part—wanted to see him just as much.

she made her way to the family tunnel, her steps slow and uncertain. the space was quieter, the echoes of the crowd still faint in the background. leaning against the wall, she tried to steady her breathing, unsure of what she’d say or how she’d even begin to explain why she was there.

when trent finally appeared, freshly showered and still in his team gear, his face lit up at the sight of her.

“you came,” he said, his voice softer than she expected.

“yeah,” she replied, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket.

he stepped closer, his smile widening. “you don’t know how good it is to see you here.”

she swallowed, her throat dry. “i didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

his brows furrowed. “why would you think that? i’ve been waiting for you to show up. i’ve been—” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “i’ve missed you, y/n.”

her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice almost too much to bear.

“come over after,” he said suddenly, his tone carrying an urgency that made her look up at him.

“trent…”

“i mean it,” he cut her off, his eyes pleading. “just… come over. we can talk or not talk, whatever you want. but i need to see you properly. just us.”

she hesitated, the weight of her emotions threatening to crush her. but as she looked at him—really looked at him—she saw the same longing she felt reflected in his eyes.

“okay,” she said quietly, the word barely audible.

his shoulders relaxed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice full of something she couldn’t quite place.

as he stepped closer, his hand brushed against hers briefly, the touch sending a jolt through her. “wait for me here,” he said softly. “i’ll be quick.”

she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as he walked away. and for the first time in weeks, she felt something other than the crushing weight of loneliness. something that scared her just as much as it comforted her. hope.

trent’s car pulled up to his house, the low hum of the engine fading as he put it in park. y/n felt the familiar tightness in her chest, the pressure of everything still hanging over her, but somehow, being in his presence helped her forget. just for a moment. she hadn’t planned on being here, not like this, but there she was, her hand already reaching for the door before he could even offer it.

he followed her as they walked to the front door, the cool evening air filling her lungs with a brief clarity. trent opened the door for her, stepping aside as she entered first. the inside of his house was cozy but had a sophistication to it—furniture placed in soft, deliberate arrangements that made everything feel welcoming, and the warm light of lamps illuminated the space in a quiet, intimate way.

"make yourself at home," trent said, taking his jacket off and tossing it onto the chair. his movements were easy, casual, but there was an edge to him tonight, a subtle tension that y/n could feel in the air. it was as if he knew something had changed between them, but neither of them spoke of it.

y/n settled herself on the couch, letting her hands rest on the cushions as she tried to focus on anything other than the pull she could feel between them. he didn’t sit right away, instead making his way into the kitchen, where the smell of something delicious filled the room.

“dinner’s almost ready,” trent called out from the kitchen, his voice light but warm. “you hungry?”

she nodded, too tired to form a full sentence. “yeah, sounds good.”

when the food came out, it was simple but comforting—pasta, fresh herbs, and a garlic bread that made her stomach growl despite herself. they ate in relative silence, save for a few exchanges about the match he had played earlier. she answered him in short sentences, trying to push the heaviness in her chest down, but it only seemed to grow.

after dinner, they moved to the living room, and it was as if everything started to slow down. they sat on opposite ends of the couch at first, both of them not quite knowing where to start, but the air was thick with something unspoken. something she couldn’t quite place.

finally, trent broke the silence. “how’s the album coming along?”

“good,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual. “almost done. just some fine-tuning left.”

the reminder of the time they had left together, the time they had spent apart, made her chest ache in a way she couldn’t ignore. she hadn’t realized how much she was holding on to, how much she was letting slip through her fingers. but she wasn’t ready to talk about it. not yet.

trent seemed to sense her shift, his posture loosening as he leaned back in his seat. he studied her for a moment, like he was trying to understand what was going on behind her guarded expression. and then, with the softest of sighs, he asked, “what happened in monaco, y/n? you’ve been distant... i’ve been racking my brain for weeks about it.”

she stiffened, the question hitting her in a way she didn’t expect. it wasn’t anger in his voice, no—it was concern. the kind of concern that made her want to shrink away, to pretend it didn’t matter, that she didn’t matter.

“nothing,” she said quickly, her voice coming out a little too sharp. “i’ve just been going through some stuff.”

trent raised an eyebrow, the concern still evident on his face. “it’s more than that. i can tell. is it me? did i do something wrong?”

y/n didn’t know how to answer. the truth was, she had been feeling lost. too many things piled up, too many things unsaid. but what would saying it to him change? what was the point?

“no,” she said, her voice faltering just a bit. “it’s nothing to do with you. i’ve just been feeling... down. it comes in waves.”

he looked at her, his gaze softening, as if he were trying to understand her even more deeply. “you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

y/n forced a small smile. “i know.”

there was a pause, and she could feel the weight of it hanging between them. but then, in the quiet of the room, trent moved closer. just a little, but enough for her to notice. enough to make her breath catch.

“you’re not alone in this, y/n. if you ever need someone…” he trailed off, his voice low, soft.

she didn’t want to acknowledge the tightness in her chest, the way her pulse quickened at the warmth in his voice. instead, she simply nodded, feeling the words sit in the air like a fragile promise.

the conversation shifted, and they started talking about lighter things—his game, her music, the plans they had been working on together. things that felt safe.

the couch seemed smaller than usual with how close they were sitting. y/n was tucked into the corner, legs folded beneath her, while trent was sprawled out, his arm draped lazily along the backrest. the distance between them felt charged, as though the air carried a hum of unspoken words and lingering glances.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving her face.

she shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the seam of a cushion. “just tired.”

but the way her gaze flickered to him, lingering on his lips before darting away, told a different story.

“tired of me already?” he teased, his voice low, carrying just the right amount of warmth to draw her out.

her lips quirked into a small smile. “hardly. you’re like a stray cat that keeps showing up.”

he chuckled, leaning closer. “you keep letting me in, though.”

she glanced at him, her expression softening as her gaze locked with his. there was something in his tone that made her heart skip, and she hated how easily he could get to her, how effortlessly he could unravel her defenses.

“maybe i like the company,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

his brows lifted, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “just the company? nothing else?”

she rolled her eyes but didn’t look away, her cheeks warming under his stare. “don’t push your luck.”

he shifted slightly, his arm brushing hers as he moved closer. the small touch sent a shiver through her, and she hated how much she liked it.

“am i pushing it now?” he murmured, his face mere inches from hers.

her breath hitched, and she felt like the room had shrunk around them. her gaze darted to his lips, and when she looked back at his eyes, she found them dark and focused, as if waiting for her to make the first move.

“trent…” her voice wavered, her resolve slipping with each passing second.

he tilted his head, his hand brushing against hers where it rested between them. “say the word, y/n. just tell me to stop.”

but she didn’t. instead, she leaned in, closing the gap, her lips brushing his in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened. his hand found her waist, pulling her closer, and before she knew it, she was straddling his lap, her fingers tangling in his curls.

the kiss grew heated, their breaths mingling as his hands gripped her hips, anchoring her to him. but then, just as quickly as it began, trent pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his chest heaving.

“wait,” he said, his voice strained, his hands tightening on her waist to stop her from moving.

her brow furrowed, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “what? what’s wrong?”

he closed his eyes for a moment, his grip on her firm yet gentle. “we need to talk.”

her heart sank, and she searched his face, her voice barely above a whisper. “do you not want this?”

his eyes snapped open, the raw intensity in them making her breath catch. “of course i do. do you know how much i’ve fantasized about you? for months, y/n. months. but—”

“but what?” she interrupted, her voice edged with desperation.

“is this what you really want?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. “i don’t want to take advantage of you. and i—”

“it’s what i want,” she said firmly, her hands framing his face. her voice softened, but the words carried an edge that made his heart ache. “just this.”

the word “just” felt like a blow, but before he could respond, she leaned in again, cutting off whatever he was about to say. her lips captured his, and this time, there was no hesitation.

“i don’t want to talk,” she murmured against his lips, her fingers threading through his hair as she deepened the kiss.

trent’s mind raced, torn between what he wanted and what he knew he should do. but the feel of her in his arms, the warmth of her body against his, made it impossible to think clearly. he gave in, letting himself be consumed by the moment, even as the weight of her words lingered in the back of his mind.

as the days turned into weeks, y/n and trent fell into a quiet rhythm that neither of them openly acknowledged. it wasn’t anything official, of course—just moments stolen away from the world, tucked into the spaces where no one else could see. he’d show up to her studio sessions unannounced, waiting patiently until everyone had cleared out. she’d find him leaning against the wall outside, his hands in his pockets, that signature smirk tugging at his lips.

“waiting for someone?” she’d tease, her voice light even though her heart always skipped a beat when she saw him there.

“just happened to be in the area,” he’d reply casually, but the way he looked at her made it clear that it wasn’t chance.

those late nights became their thing. sometimes he’d stay long enough to hear snippets of her songs, his quiet praise warming her in ways she didn’t want to admit. other times, they barely made it past the doorway before his lips were on hers, the studio lights dim as they lost themselves in each other.

it was dangerous, she knew that. every kiss, every lingering touch, every whispered joke felt like they were toeing a line she shouldn’t cross. and yet, y/n couldn’t help but indulge. it was almost as if, for those fleeting moments, she could pretend they were something more. pretend that this wasn’t just an arrangement, that trent wasn’t the man she’d promised herself she’d keep at arm’s length.

but then reality would creep in. she couldn’t let herself fall into fantasies, no matter how tempting. this was as good as it was going to get for her.

one evening, y/n found herself at zaia’s place, the familiar warmth of her friend’s apartment a welcome distraction. they were lounging on the couch, a bottle of wine open between them, when zaia gave her a long, calculating look.

“you’re glowing,” zaia said, tilting her head slightly as she studied y/n.

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what are you talking about?”

“don’t ‘what’ me.” zaia grinned, sitting up straighter. “there’s no way. you’ve got that... i’m-being-well-taken-care-of glow.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed instantly. “you’re imagining things,” she muttered, taking a sip of her wine to avoid meeting zaia’s eyes.

“don’t lie to me, y/n,” zaia said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “you’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

y/n nearly choked on her drink, her reaction only confirming zaia’s suspicions. “what? no. that’s... that’s ridiculous.”

zaia leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing look. “you forget how well I know you. you never lit up like this for jadon.”

“that’s different,” y/n said quickly, her voice defensive as she set her glass down.

“is it, though?” zaia asked, her teasing tone softening as concern crept into her expression. “y/n, I know how you get. you’re not the type to keep things casual, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise.”

“zaia,” y/n started, but her friend cut her off.

“i’m serious. you’ve been through too much to put yourself in a situation where you’re going to get hurt. are you sure you can handle this?”

y/n hesitated, the words sticking in her throat. deep down, she knew zaia was right. it was different. with trent, it wasn’t just physical—it was everything else. the quiet moments, the way he looked at her like she mattered, even if it was just for a little while. and that terrified her.

“it’s fine,” she said finally, though the words felt hollow even to her own ears. “i know what i’m doing.”

zaia didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, reaching for her glass again. “just... be careful, okay? i don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“i’ll be fine,” y/n said, forcing a small smile. but as she sat there, listening to zaia’s voice fade into the background, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was lying to herself. because no matter how hard she tried to keep her heart out of it, trent had already found a way in.

trent had barely made it through the last stretch of away games without feeling like something was missing. every goal, every post-match celebration, every night in a sterile hotel room felt hollow. now, finally back in liverpool, he couldn’t shake the anticipation buzzing under his skin. his mind was already fixed on seeing y/n, her presence something he’d grown far too accustomed to.

but when he texted her, he didn’t get the response he’d hoped for.

y/n: movie night with zaia and cassius tonight.

his heart sank a little. he leaned against his kitchen counter, tapping out a reply.

trent: was really hoping to see you

it took a minute before she responded, and he was halfway through wondering if she was about to shoot him down completely when his phone buzzed again.

y/n: i wanted to see you too, but it’ll have to wait.

his lips parted, ready to type something back, when another message followed.

y/n: or maybe you could come over?

trent didn’t even hesitate. he barely registered y/n asking zaia and cassius for permission before she sent him the address. it wasn’t the setting he’d imagined for their reunion, but he wasn’t about to complain.

when he arrived at zaia and cassius’s place, it was a cozy scene. fairy lights glowed softly along the walls, the smell of popcorn lingering in the air. zaia greeted him with a polite but distant nod, barely saying anything beyond a brief introduction. cassius, on the other hand, was a bit warmer, offering him a handshake and a seat on the couch.

y/n, sitting cross-legged with a blanket draped over her lap, smiled up at him. “thanks for coming.”

“thanks for letting me crash your movie night,” he said, settling in beside her, his body relaxing for the first time in days.

everything was going smoothly until y/n’s phone buzzed, and she frowned at the screen. “it’s my parents,” she said, getting up. “they’re facetiming from back home. i’ll just be a minute.”

as soon as y/n disappeared down the hallway to take her parents’ early morning facetime call, the energy in the living room shifted. trent leaned back on the couch, feeling the weight of zaia’s unyielding gaze on him. she sat crossed-legged on the opposite couch, her arms folded across her chest in a stance that screamed “interrogation.” beside her, cassius shifted in his seat, looking somewhere between amused and resigned, the kind of man clearly dragged into a situation but far too in love to argue about it.

trent cleared his throat, his brows knitting together. “uh, everything okay?”

“perfect,” zaia replied sweetly, her smile a little too sharp. she leaned forward, her elbow resting on her knee, and cocked her head. “cass, you want to start?”

cassius groaned, running a hand over his face. “do i have to?” he grumbled, though his tone lacked any real annoyance.

“yes,” zaia snapped, her eyes not leaving trent. “because we agreed. you said you’d handle it.”

trent glanced between them, his unease growing. “handle what, exactly?”

cassius sighed dramatically, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “look, mate. zaia’s made it clear we need to have this... talk.”

“talk?” trent repeated, sitting up straighter.

zaia rolled her eyes. “yes, talk. trent, you’ve been spending a lot of time with our y/n, and as her best friend—practically her sister—it’s my job to make sure she’s okay. and honestly, it’s not just me. we’re all concerned.”

cassius nodded along, though he seemed less intense about it. “it’s not personal, man. but you know how it is. y/n is family, and we’ve seen what happens when relationships... don’t work out for her.”

trent’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. “i get that. but i don’t know why you’re acting like i’m here to hurt her.”

zaia raised a brow, her sharp eyes pinning him in place. “because that’s what happens when people aren’t clear about what they want. you might think you’re being careful or taking your time, but if you’re not upfront, it can still cause damage. and y/n doesn’t need that. not from you, not from anyone.”

trent exhaled through his nose, keeping his voice calm despite the tension. “look, i’m not leading her on. i’m following her lead. whatever’s happening between us, it’s because she wants it too. and if she wants to take things slow or keep it casual, that’s her choice. i’m not going to push her into anything she’s not ready for.”

zaia squinted at him, as if trying to read his mind. “you say that, but have you told her how you feel? have you made it clear what you want, or are you just going along with this because it’s easy?”

trent hesitated for a fraction of a second, and zaia pounced. “exactly,” she said, sitting back with a triumphant look.

cassius winced. “baby, you don’t always have to go for the jugular.”

zaia shot him a look. “he can handle it. he’s a big boy, aren’t you, trent?”

trent’s lips twitched in a faint, humorless smile. “yeah, i can handle it. but like i said, i’m taking my cues from y/n. she’s been through enough without me piling on my own feelings. if she wants to keep things the way they are, that’s fine. i’m not here to make things harder for her.”

cassius nodded slowly, his tone more even than zaia’s. “fair enough. but you have to understand where we’re coming from. y/n’s not just some random girl we’re protective over. she’s been through hell in the past, and we’ve seen what it’s done to her. the last thing we want is for her to end up in another situation where she’s hurt or confused or... whatever.”

zaia crossed her arms again, her gaze softening slightly but still firm. “she doesn’t talk about her feelings, trent. not really. and if she’s letting you in, that means something. so, if you care about her, you need to figure out what that means for you. because if you’re not serious, then you need to end it before it gets worse.”

trent sighed, running a hand over his face. “i hear you, okay? but like i said, i’m not messing around. i care about her. i’m just trying to do right by her.”

cassius leaned back with a small smile. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

zaia glared at him. “don’t act like you weren’t just as concerned as me five minutes ago.”

cassius grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her neck suggestively, “yeah, but you’re way scarier about it. i’m the good cop, remember?”

zaia shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “is this seriously turning you on, cash. i’m working.”

trent couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension easing slightly. “so, are we good now? or do i need to sign some sort of contract promising not to hurt her?”

zaia raised a brow. “don’t tempt me. but for now, we’re good.”

cassius nodded, his tone light again. “just know, if you mess up, you’ll have zaia to answer to. and trust me, she’s terrifying when she’s angry.”

“you’re not exactly a pushover yourself,” trent pointed out, earning a laugh from cassius.

“true. but i prefer to let zaia do the heavy lifting. she’s much better at it.”

“damn right, i am,” zaia said, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

just then, y/n returned to the room, her phone still in hand and a curious look on her face. “what did i miss?”

“nothing important,” zaia said quickly, sitting up straighter. she shot trent one last look before reaching for the remote, her expression neutral. “everything okay with your parents?”

“yeah,” y/n said, though she didn’t seem convinced. she sat back down beside trent, her hand brushing his arm briefly. “everything’s fine.”

cassius nodded, his grin giving him away. “yeah, just talking about the movie.”

y/n narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical, but she let it go. she settled back onto the couch beside trent, her attention shifting back to the screen.

as the movie resumed, trent couldn’t help but glance at zaia, who gave him a small, knowing nod. her words echoed in his mind, pushing him to confront the truth he’d been avoiding. if he wanted y/n in his life, he needed to be honest—with her and with himself. and for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for what that might mean.

trent felt the weight of y/n’s body resting comfortably against his chest as the credits rolled on the movie. her steady breathing was soft, almost lulling him to sleep too, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he glanced at her peaceful expression. she looked so serene, her face relaxed in a way he rarely saw during the day.

on the couch opposite him, zaia was in a similar state, her head tilted against cassius’s shoulder, her limbs tangled with his. cassius was gazing down at her with an expression so full of love that it made trent’s chest ache. it wasn’t jealousy, exactly—it was more a pang of longing, a flicker of the kind of connection he hadn’t realized he wanted until recently. his hand absentmindedly smoothed over y/n’s back, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to look at her like that, openly and without hesitation.

cassius caught the look on trent’s face and smirked knowingly, shifting slightly without waking zaia. “she’s something, isn’t she?” he asked quietly, his voice low so as not to disturb either woman.

trent cleared his throat, his hand stilling on y/n’s back. “yeah, she is,” he admitted, his voice just as soft.

cassius chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch. “look, man, i’m not going to give you a hard time again. zaia’s already taken care of that. but... you should know, if you’re serious about her—”

“i am,” trent interrupted, his voice firmer this time.

cassius raised a brow, his smirk widening. “good. because the way you look at her right now? that’s the kind of thing you don’t come across often. don’t mess it up. for both of your sakes”

trent didn’t respond, his throat tightening as he glanced down at y/n again. she shifted slightly in her sleep, her nose brushing against his collarbone, and he couldn’t help but tighten his hold on her.

cassius exhaled and gently shifted zaia in his arms. “all right, i’m gonna put my wife to bed.”

“you mean your fiancée,” trent corrected, unable to resist.

cassius grinned. “nah, she’s already my wife in every way that matters. the paperwork’s just a formality at this point.”

trent couldn’t argue with that. he watched as cassius carefully scooped zaia up and carried her down the hall, her head resting against his shoulder. the sight only deepened the ache in trent’s chest, but he pushed the feeling aside.

once they disappeared, he shifted slightly to wake y/n. “hey, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle.

she let out a soft whine, her face burrowing further into his chest. “don’t wanna,” she mumbled sleepily.

he chuckled, pressing his lips to her temple. “come on, baby. let’s get you home.”

she let out another sleepy protest, her arms wrapping loosely around his torso, but he persisted, gently shaking her awake. after a few more moments, her eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused.

“trent?” she murmured, her voice soft and full of trust.

“yeah, it’s me,” he said, smiling down at her. “let’s get you up, yeah?”

the drive to his house was quiet, the hum of the car engine lulling y/n back into a semi-drowsy state. she leaned against the window, her eyes half-closed, but when they pulled into his driveway, she stirred, blinking herself awake.

“you didn’t have to drive,” she said sleepily, her voice tinged with guilt.

“i wanted to,” he replied simply, stepping out of the car and walking over to her side. before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“trent,” she whined, though there was no real protest in her tone.

“you’re half asleep,” he said, carrying her inside. “let me take care of you.”

her head rested against his neck, and she murmured, “how was it? with cass and zaia?”

he smirked. “it was good.”

her head shot up slightly, her eyes still bleary but full of curiosity. “they grilled you?”

“yep,” he said, chuckling. “how’d you know?”

“they’re protective. usually harmless.” y/n murmurs. fatigue still coating her words.

“yeah they they grill all your other fake boyfriends,” he teased, her voice still soft with sleep.

she raises her head and glances a him before shaking her head, no. he froze for a moment, raising a brow as he looked down at her. “just me?”

her head dropped back against his neck, and she shook her head. “no one else ever got close enough to meet them. my dating life and family have always been separate.”

trent paused after her words, his brow furrowing as he processed the quiet confession. her head rested against his shoulder again, but this time, she wasn’t slipping into sleep—she was hiding.

“you’ve never let anyone meet them because... your family’s not around?” he asked carefully, piecing it together.

she nodded against his neck, her voice softer now. “yeah. my family’s away—always has been. did you know i’m the oldest of seven siblings?”

trent leaned back slightly, tilting his head to get a better look at her face. “seven?” he repeated, his surprise evident.

a faint smile touched her lips, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “yeah, seven. it’s a lot, i know.”

he shook his head, his hands steadying her on the counter. “i mean... i had no idea. you don’t talk about them much.”

“because it’s hard,” she admitted. “i’ve never had older siblings to rely on and get life advice. i was always the one looking out for everyone else, being the one they leaned on. but in some ways, zaia and cassius became that for me. first zaia, and then cassius. they’ve always been there for me, but even more now—especially now that my life is like this.”

trent studied her closely, his chest tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. “what do you mean, now that your life is like this? you’re successful, y/n. you’ve done things most people our age couldn’t even dream of. anyone would die to be in your position.”

her laugh was soft, but it held no humor. “sure, i’m successful. but they have things i don’t—love, stability, security. i’ll never have that. not really.”

the honesty of her words hit him harder than he expected. he didn’t know what to say, his throat tightening at the weight of her admission. her family, her career, her relationships—it all felt so far removed from the life she craved, the life she deserved.

“y/n...” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

but she shook her head, cutting him off gently. “it’s fine, trent. really. i’ve accepted it. this is my life now, and i’m grateful for everything i’ve achieved. i just... sometimes, i wonder what it would be like to have the other stuff too.”

trent stayed silent for a moment, his hands still resting on her waist. he didn’t know how to fix it, how to ease the ache he could feel radiating from her. but as her gaze flickered to his, he found himself saying, “you deserve all of it, y/n. the love, the stability, the security—you deserve every single bit of it. and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re lying.”

her lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her face, but she didn’t respond. instead, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. the gesture was simple, but it spoke volumes, her silent gratitude filling the space between them.

trent didn’t press her for more. he simply held her, grounding her in the quiet comfort of the moment, letting her know without words that she wasn’t as alone as she felt.

trent didn’t say anything, but the weight of her words settled over him. he carried her upstairs, gently setting her on the bathroom counter. she blinked up at him as he pulled out her usual oil cleanser, the familiarity of the act warming her chest.

“you bought all my stuff?” she asked, her voice soft.

he shrugged, wetting a cotton pad. “course. figured you’d need it.”

her eyes welled up slightly, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward, her lips pressing against his. he froze for a moment before responding, his hands finding her waist as he stepped between her legs.

the kiss deepened, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. moments like this made her forget the lines between them, the unspoken truths that kept her heart guarded. but for now, with his hands steadying her and his lips against hers, she let herself fall into the fantasy, even if only for a little while.

trent leaned against the kitchen counter, shirtless, sipping a glass of water as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. y/n had stepped out to pick something up, leaving him to his own devices in her cozy flat. the sound of keys jingling at the front door barely registered at first—he figured it was y/n, back quicker than he’d expected.

but when the door swung open, trent looked up, his easygoing demeanor freezing in place. standing in the doorway were two people he’d never seen before, both with bags in hand, the resemblance to y/n unmistakable. the man, tall and stern-looking despite his slightly squinting eyes, zeroed in on him immediately.

“you’ve got to be joking,” the man muttered, his voice laced with disbelief and anger.

trent blinked, completely thrown off. “uh… hi?” he managed, his voice unsure, as he set the glass down on the counter.

“don’t ‘hi’ me!” the man barked, stepping further into the foyer and dropping his bags. “this is him, isn’t it? the one playing my daughter? jason?”

“jadon,” the woman beside him corrected softly, though her tone was no less disapproving.

“whatever!” y/n’s dad snapped, his eyes narrowing at trent. “you’ve got some nerve being here like this!”

trent’s hands went up defensively, his mind racing. this just his luck being mistakened for jadon, while being half naked.

before he could respond, hurried footsteps echoed on the stairs, and y/n appeared, her eyes wide as saucers as she took in the scene.

“oh my god,” she breathed, her gaze darting between her father and trent. “dad, stop!”

her dad turned to her, incredulous. “stop? you’re defending him?” he gestured wildly at trent. “this is who you’ve been letting disrespect you? this is—”

“dad, what are you talking about?” she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation.

her father gestured wildly at trent. “this! him! the one playing you like a fool! isn’t this the guy?”

“he’s not jadon!” y/n interrupted, rushing down the last few steps. she placed herself between trent and her dad, her hands up as if trying to create a barrier. “dad, just stop. you don’t even have your glasses on, do you?”

her mom let out a quiet sigh, her arms crossed as she gave her husband a pointed look. “i told you to wear them,” she murmured.

“i don’t need glasses to recognize trouble when i see it,” he retorted, though his confidence was starting to waver.

“dad,” y/n said firmly, her tone a mix of exasperation and exhaustion. “this is trent, not jadon.”

trent, still shirtless and very much out of place, offered an awkward wave. “uh… hi again.”

y/n’s dad squinted at him, stepping closer as if to inspect him. after a long moment, he muttered under his breath, “maybe i do need my glasses.”

y/n let out a frustrated sigh, shooting a pleading look at her mom, who simply shrugged, clearly used to her husband’s antics. “he’s harmless,” her mom said, her tone more amused now.

“harmless?” her dad scoffed, his glare returning. “then why is he half-naked in my daughter’s house?”

trent barely had time to process what was happening. the air was thick with tension as y/n's father glared at him like a man on a mission, demanding answers to questions trent didn’t even understand. shirtless and utterly unprepared, he stood frozen in the foyer, caught in a storm he didn’t see coming.

“what do you mean this isn’t jadon?” her dad spat, his tone sharp as his eyes darted accusingly between trent and the still-open door.

trent opened his mouth to say something—anything—but before he could get a word out, y/n came rushing down the stairs, her hair in disarray, eyes wide with confusion.

y/n stared at him, baffled, before her gaze shifted to trent. the absurdity of the moment dawned on her, and despite the tension, she almost laughed. “dad, what? no. this isn’t jadon—this is trent.” she hesitated for a beat, then added, “my boyfriend.”

the words hung in the air like a bomb, dropping with enough force to silence everyone in the room.

trent’s eyes snapped to y/n, his brows shooting up in surprise. boyfriend? sure, they’d agreed to keep up appearances in public, but hearing her say it out loud—introducing him to her parents that way—was a different story. something about the way she said it, so casual yet firm, sent a strange warmth coursing through him. it felt real.

“your what?” her dad barked, his voice rising with disbelief.

“boyfriend,” y/n repeated, her tone firm as she crossed her arms over her chest.

trent felt his heart thump harder in his chest. he stood there, shirtless and vulnerable, feeling both out of place and oddly… special. sure, he’d been around her often, even meeting his own family with her by his side, but this? this was something else entirely.

“y/n, are you serious?” her mom finally spoke, her tone less accusatory but still laced with surprise.

y/n nodded, glancing at trent for a split second before turning back to her parents. “yes, i’m serious. trent’s my boyfriend. he’s been around for a while now.”

“and you didn’t think to tell us?” her dad asked, his voice filled with a mixture of hurt and frustration.

“you didn’t call to say you were coming,” y/n countered, her tone sharper now. “you show up unannounced and start making wild assumptions. what was i supposed to do?”

her dad narrowed his eyes at trent again. “why would i have to call to see my first born? and why are you half-naked in my daughter’s house?”

trent scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment even more. “sir, i, uh—”

“he was helping me earlier,” y/n interjected, cutting him off before he could fumble further. “dad, just… stop, okay? you’re overreacting.”

her mom sighed, stepping forward to place a calming hand on her husband’s arm. “maybe we should all sit down and talk this through,�� she suggested, her tone softer now.

her dad muttered something under his breath but reluctantly followed her lead, moving to the living room. y/n and trent exchanged a quick glance, her expression a mix of apology and something else—something he couldn’t quite read.

as they settled on the couch, trent found himself next to y/n, finally clothed, her parents across from them. her dad still looked skeptical, while her mom studied him with a more neutral expression.

“so,” her dad began, leaning forward slightly. “how long has this been going on?”

y/n hesitated, and trent decided to step in. “a few months,” he said, his voice steady despite the situation. “we’ve been taking things slow.”

her dad’s eyes narrowed. “slow, huh?”

“dad,” y/n said sharply, shooting him a warning look.

“look,” trent continued, deciding to lean into the role she’d unknowingly assigned him, “i care about y/n. a lot. i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t.”

her mom’s lips twitched, as if she were fighting back a smile. her dad, however, didn’t look convinced.

“you care about her." her dad repeated, his tone skeptical. “and what exactly do you do, trent?”

trent straightened up slightly. “i play football. for liverpool.”

her dad’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked his surprise. “another footballer,” he muttered, glancing at his wife. “great.”

“he’s not like that,” y/n said quickly, her voice defensive. “trent’s not jadon, okay? he’s—” she paused, her cheeks flushing slightly. “he’s different.”

as soon as the words fell from her lips, it felt like a lie. it didn’t just feel like she was trying to convince them but herself, too. because when she thought about it—truly thought about it—how different was this really? trent didn’t make promises any more than jadon had. the arrangement wasn’t built on anything solid, just fleeting moments and unspoken rules. yet, she felt it in her soul—a shift she couldn’t quite explain.

trent wasn’t like jadon, not entirely. he didn’t use words to manipulate or push her boundaries. he didn’t weaponize her vulnerability or make her feel small. but at the same time, there was no certainty with him. no reassurance that what they had wasn’t as fragile as glass.

still, when he looked at her, when he touched her, it didn’t feel hollow. it felt like something she could get lost in, even if only temporarily. and that scared her. because what if this was just another version of the same story? what if she was setting herself up for heartbreak all over again?

but her heart betrayed her mind. because despite the questions, despite the doubt, she wanted to believe in the shift. wanted to believe that maybe this time would be different.

trent glanced at her, his heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in her voice. for a moment, he forgot they were supposed to be pretending.

her mom finally spoke again, her tone lighter this time. “well, you certainly didn’t tell us you were seeing someone, y/n. it’s a bit of a surprise.”

y/n shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “you haven’t visited me in forever, so…”

her dad bristled at that. “we’re here now, aren’t we?”

“unannounced,” y/n shot back, her tone sharp.

trent, sensing the tension rising again, reached over and placed a hand on her knee. it was a small gesture, but it was enough to ground her. she glanced at him, her expression softening slightly.

the rest of the conversation was tense but civil, her dad asking question after question while her mom tried to keep the peace. trent answered as best as he could, doing his best to reassure them that he wasn’t some fleeting figure in y/n’s life.

but even as the conversation continued, he couldn’t shake the warmth that had settled in his chest. hearing y/n call him her boyfriend—whether it was real or not—felt like a step forward. it felt like something he wanted to hold onto.

y/n stormed into her room, her shoulders tense, her hands immediately reaching for anything to straighten or adjust. she pulled at the edges of her comforter, smoothed the books on her desk, and rearranged a framed photo of her siblings she hadn’t updated in years. her breaths came quick, and her lips pressed into a thin line as she paced back and forth.

trent followed her in silently, leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a worried frown. “y/n,” he called gently, his voice calm but firm.

she didn’t respond, her hands busy fixing the pillows on her bed for the third time.

“y/n,” he tried again, stepping further into the room.

“what?” she snapped, her voice sharp, her movements frantic as she moved to straighten the curtains. “what do you want, trent?”

he stayed quiet for a moment, observing her. “i want you to stop,” he said softly, his tone steady. “just… stop.”

she froze for a moment, her hands hovering over the fabric of the curtain before she dropped them to her sides. then she turned to face him, her eyes blazing with frustration and something deeper—hurt.

“stop what?” she asked, her voice shaking. “stop being angry? stop feeling like I don’t exist to them? stop pretending I’m fine when I’m not?”

trent took a cautious step closer. “stop pacing. stop carrying it all on your own.”

she let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “what else am i supposed to do, trent? who else is going to do it?”

he stayed silent, letting her continue.

“they forgot about me,” she said, her voice rising as she gestured toward the door, where her parents had disappeared downstairs. “they’ve moved on, started over, had more kids. and me? i’m just supposed to work. to send money. to be fine on my own. i don’t even know my siblings anymore, trent. i missed their first steps, their first words. i don’t even know their favorite colors or what makes them laugh.”

her voice cracked, and she turned away, her hands gripping the edge of her desk.

trent moved closer, his hand brushing her arm lightly. “y/n…”

“i’ve been alone,” she continued, her voice trembling. “ever since i got here. no one visited, no one checked in. they’re supposed to be my family, but i’ve had to be everything for myself. and now they just show up, unannounced, like none of that matters.”

trent reached out, his hands resting gently on her shoulders to still her. “you’re not alone anymore,” he said firmly.

she shrugged off his touch, spinning to face him. “don’t,” she said sharply. “don’t say that. you don’t understand.”

“then make me understand,” he said, his voice calm but insistent.

she shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “just go, trent. please.”

he didn’t move. instead, he stepped closer, his gaze steady. “no,” he said simply.

her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “what do you mean, no?”

“i mean i’m not leaving,” he said, his voice unwavering. “you don’t get to shut me out, y/n. not like this.”

her lip quivered, and she turned away, her hands gripping the edge of the desk again. “why do you even care?”

he stepped closer, his hands gently turning her to face him. “because i care about you,” he said softly. “and i’m not going anywhere. not now." not ever,

her tears spilled over, and she tried to look away, but he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “you’re not alone,” he said again, his voice steady. “you’ve got me. i’m here.”

for a moment, she just looked at him, her defenses crumbling as she let his words sink in. and then, finally, she let herself fall into his arms, her tears soaking into his shirt as he held her tightly, his hand smoothing over her back.

he didn’t say anything else—he didn’t need to. he just held her, grounding her in the moment, reminding her that, for once, she didn’t have to face it all alone.

trent held her in silence, letting her cry into his chest, her emotions unraveling in his arms. he could feel the weight of her pain, the years of feeling abandoned, of being the one left to carry everything on her own. and as much as he wanted to stay in this moment, to be her rock, a thought lingered in his mind—but for how long?

27 notes · View notes

urgardenandmine · 3 days ago

Text

crimson nails and red hearts 𓆉 - v. h. chwe

summary: new baby idol meets one of the swaggiest boys with the baggiest fashion genre: fluffy (and kinda half-assed since i'm so tired...) pairing: gender neutral reader x vernon hansol chwe word count: 1,2K

“twenty minutes til stage!”

the loud voice had boomed throughout the room, causing everyone to bustle and begin speaking to one another rapidly as if their lives depended on their speed (which it kinda did).

you were in your group’s changing room for your now upcoming debut on music bank. your company had given you and your groupmates the theme similar to your senior’s red velvet from SM. focusing solely on the “velvet” part, you six were an R&B focused group with a sultry side that was about to be announced to everyone.

you were given the position you had dreamed for, which made you ecstatic. what didn’t was being the new upcoming group about to finally appear on TV at the music bank show. though you had rehearsed till your feet had grown blisters, till your hair was shining with sweat and your heart practically jumped out your chest, this had felt like nothing more than ever before.

sitting in your styling chair, you couldn’t think of anything else than the simple lines you were given, as you continuously mumbled them as your hairstylist fixed up your hair. the company had given you a safe style, simply giving you red frosted tips which you disliked at first but after having your hair grow out a bit, it had grown on you (literally). after dying your hair red, you felt as if it attracted bad luck as the next day you were going to wash your hair, the water was cold for a week. red seemed like it had it out for you. as you continued humming, the stylist giggled to herself, as she saw you tapping your fingers to your song.

“[y/n]-ssi, don’t you think you know the words yet?” she teased, causing you to turn a soft red as you chuckled.

“yeah, i do. i just don’t want to forget them.” you answered, causing her to nod as she fluffed up your hair gently. now appearing in your peripherals was your makeup artist, lightly tapping your cheeks with blush as she chuckled.

“i wouldn’t forget your lyrics at all. the song is too catchy.” she spoke, now lining your lips with a flattering lip gloss.

“and sexy.” your hairstylist added, causing you to smirk softly as you began to calm down, no longer feeling your heart burst out your chest. your member beside you was in their own world, simply chatting with their own stylists as you tried to relax yourself. the new environment had made you feel somewhat scared yet this was your life now. you had made it and you weren’t going to let this chance pass you by.

“and~, done!” your hairstylist had exclaimed, soon followed by your makeup stylist who had closed her compact, signaling she was done as well. you smiled in the mirror, seeing the new you who was about to hear the chants of your fans and see the lights of cameras shine upon your face.

“hey, [y/n], you’re all done?” your leader spoke, which startled you considering how they didn’t even seem like they were in the room till you were done with makeup and hair. jumping in your chair, you rolled your eyes and nodded, chuckling.

“yeah, i’m all done.”

“ooh~, then you have to do the thing.” your groupmate beside you teased, their finger tapping your shoulder repeatedly. you raised an eyebrow, glaring at them as they sheepishly took away their hand before you could grab it and tease them back.

“thing?” another groupmate asked, also confused at this whole new “thing.”

“yeah. since [y/n] finished second with their makeup, they have to go with our precious leader and go promote our work to our seniors.” the youngest member informed, chewing candy. you groaned, looking at your leader who had a devilish smile as they held up a basket of snacks for your seniors. you pouted, staring up at your leader from your chair with big puppy dog eyes, hoping they would just let you stay and relax…

it didn’t work.

as you made your way down the halls of the changing rooms, you could read all the names of the seniors who were appearing today and could hear some singing, getting ready for their stages. slowly strolling down the hall, your leader immediately stopped and knocked on the door of one group.

seventeen.

you tapped your heels together, standing beside your leader as you were given a small red shiny goodie bag to hand out. looking towards the door, you had met eyes with the manager, who had let you both in.

as you both bowed towards the manager, you heard an immediate loud exclaim from one of the members.

“wow! what’s this!”

“ooh~, treats!”

“and people, hyung.”

you and your leader bowed to the group, announcing repeated “hi’s” and “hello’s.” after making the last bow, you were met with the eyes of a particular member.

vernon.

he was dressed in an all black yet baggy outfit, which had a wide contrast from his members. your eyes were held together for almost a minute, before snapping out of your gaze as your leader spoke up and began handing out the goodie bags.

“we hope you guys enjoy our show and we can work together in the future.” they stated, causing you to bow and smile, hoping it wasn’t obvious your staring at vernon was well, obvious. as you were looking down at your feet, you noticed a now casted shadow over you. slowly making your way up and no longer being in a 90 degree angle, it was vernon who was now closer to you than ever.

gulping, your face began to glow a soft red from your cheeks as vernon smirked at you. you handed him the small bag of goodies, as his fingers grazed your hand. looking at him, he chuckled as you looked away, trying to not panic as he was close to your face that you began to rethink your life in that singular moment. you then began to wonder if vernon was single…

“thank you for the treats!” the members said, as you and your leader were then slowly making your way out the door. as the door opened, before you could walk through, you felt a small tug on your elbow. looking over your shoulder, you had seen vernon handing you his phone.

“i know we just met but uh, let’s stay connected like kakao or something…” he mumbled the last words sheepishly, causing you to chuckle. though it was a rule as you guys had just debuted that you couldn’t have phones, it didn’t mean you didn’t have a phone number. inputting your number into his phone, vernon looked closer at your hand as he smiled.

“i like the red.” he said, causing you to look down at your nails, which were painted crimson. sheepishly hiding your face by looking down, you shook thought out of your head and handed him back his phone.

“talk to you soon.” he said, before heading back into his changing room. turning on his heel, he made his way back in and closed the door. you hide your reddening face in your hands, causing your leader to slowly get closer to you.

“um, we still have more to deliver…” they whispered softly. you chuckled, nodding as you were now practically skipping down the hall. guess red isn’t such a bad luck charm.

⋆｡°✩

i'm sorry for the long hiatus! things got a bit hectic and i haven't been in a writing mood lately :p

i hope i did my best for my carats since i don't know much on SVT yet but i will get there!

hope y'all enjoyed this fic and i will try to do more!

#kpop male reader #male reader #x male reader #m!reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen x male reader #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen vernon #vernon chwe

32 notes · View notes

ohdorothea · 2 days ago

Text

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans, homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More info about the tournament here!

Lyrics for the songs under the cut <3

Treacherous lyrics

Put your lips close to mine

As long as they don't touch

Out of focus, eye to eye

Till the gravity's too much

And I'll do anything you say

If you say it with your hands

And I'd be smart to walk away

But you're quicksand

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless

This slope is treacherous

And I, I, I like it

I can't decide if it's a choice

Getting swept away

I hear the sound of my own voice

Asking you to stay

All we are is skin and bone

Trained to get along

Forever going with the flow

But you're friction

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless

This slope is treacherous

I, I, I like it

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night and I will

Get you a, get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind and I just

Think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would

Follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

This hope is treacherous

This daydream is dangerous

This hope is treacherous

I, I, I

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night and I will

Get you a, get you alone

Your name has echoed through my mind and I just

Think you should, think you should know

That nothing safe is worth the drive and I will

Follow you, follow you home

I'll follow you, follow you home

This slope is treacherous

I, I, I like it

Come Back...Be Here lyrics

You said it in a simple way

4 AM, the second day

How strange that I don't know you at all

Stumbled through the long goodbye

One last kiss, then catch your flight

Right when I was just about to fall

I told myself, don't get attached

But in my mind, I play it back

Spinning faster than the plane that took you

And this is when the feeling sinks in

I don't wanna miss you like this

Come back, be here, come back, be here

I guess you're in New York today

I don't wanna need you this way

Come back, be here, come back, be here

The delicate beginning rush

The feeling you can know so much

Without knowing anything at all

And now that I can put this down

If I had known what I know now

I never would've played so nonchalant

Taxi cabs and busy streets

That never bring you back to me

I can't help but wish you took me with you

And this is when the feeling sinks in

I don't wanna miss you like this

Come back, be here, come back, be here

I guess you're in London today

And I don't wanna need you this way

Come back, be here, come back, be here

This is falling in love in the cruellest way

This is falling for you when you are worlds away

In New York, be here

But you're in London, and I break down

'Cause it's not fair that you're not around

This is when the feeling sinks in

I don't wanna miss you like this

Come back, be here, come back, be here

I guess you're in New York today

And I don't wanna need you this way

Come back, be here, come back, be here

Oh-oh, oh-oh

I don't wanna miss you like this

Oh-oh, oh-oh

Come back, be here

#tsqst

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sleepless-crows · 17 days ago

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I PROMISE ????????? NO MATTER WHAT ???????? SURELY. ALWAYS. I WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE ?????????? AND WHAT IF I CRY ??????????

#you know now that i think about it. the lyrics are so simple #i promise no matter what surely always i will be by your side #that is such a simple sentence #but also such a big and heavy thing to declare #and emphasis on the title of the song. kitto zutto. surely always #or certainly forever #the album's title is chikai. or promise/oath/vow #thats their promise. to be each other's eternity #OMG THE SNOW QUEEN WAIT IM COOKING #OKAY I WILL CONTINUE THIS CONVERSATION IN MY HEAD #Spotify

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puppppppppy · 1 year ago

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save me old flipnote studio MVs.......

#im going thru old flipnotes i used to watch years ago and ouggghhg so many good ones #is twenty one pilots still popular.... do people still remember the TRNDSTTER and marble soda meme.........#its like im unlocking some sort of primal part of my brain and everything is coming back to me. one of my biggest inspirations as a kid #i still remember thinking the final transmission lyrics were the coolest thing and watching =TopHat= Bee and Melissa over and over #theres a very specific feeling of longing and nostalgia looking back and watching these again years later #especially when there isnt anything genshin or mcyt and instead its either fnaf undertale eddsworld or another obscure #interest... and not even fnaf sister location its like fnaf 3 and 2. its THAT old. and a lot of oc MVs especially pokemon ocs and furries..#god but they were so creative u know. i still find it amazing ppl took this little lightbox animation on the fucking NINTENDO DS and #cranked it all the way to 11.. like if u look at the transitions and movement its so fucking fluid its insane..!! HOW DO YOU MAKE THE #CHARACTERS SPIN??? AND CHANGING CAMERA ANGLES??? and keep in mind youre doing this all with a shitty stylus #on a THREE BY TWO INCH SCREEN. you only get two layers you can go up to 29FPS and you only have 999 slides to work with #and 24FPS eats up a lot of that. absolutely insane it literally boggles my mind every time i think about it. AND SOME ARE EVEN FULL COLOR #i forgot how popular EDM was back then too...they were really good for timing beats though so you get a lot of MVs with #strobe last and marble soda. porter robinsons goodbye to a world was also popular with undertale and oc MVs. also a lot of vocaloid #someone made a flipnote abt the warner bros fnaf movie being announced EIGHT FUCKING YEARS AGO. it even used the stay calm audio from #the office.... i wonder how theyre doing now... i love you shitty grainy MV audio.. but i have mixed feelings abt the flashing colors #ppl LOVED animating the sans vs frisk fight. aishite and primadonna were also big ones they were SICK AS FUCK #lots of these inspired my old oc designs.. a lot of my characters had side bangs with one eye covered. animal ears and simple eyes too #now i kinda wanna try my hand at the marble soda meme cause i loved it as a kid lol.. i wonder if i should compare my old and new art here #UGHHHH IM SO NORMAL ABOUT NOSTALGIA. IM SO NORMAL ABT MY SCHOOL BOOK DRAWINGS WITH SHIBA BROWS #yapping #nostalgia

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a-s-levynn · 11 months ago

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Fighting to forgive yourself for being you

#this #this is why i got attached to the war of being album so quickly #because this simple yet enourmous thing is at it's core and i resonated with it before properly knowing #i just had to actually pay attention to the lyrics and the music and the performance. and i needed the live experience for that #after what i went through with st you'd think i learned by now.. well little do you know about my stupidity #but all in all if ST burst open the floodgates for me towards getting better #i think tesseract is starting to help me guide that flow more precisely right no #by offering me a whole new perpective and a completely different approach on essentially the same thing #i'm not going to go into a small essay on this but yeah i think now i get what is going on in my head with this a bit better #man i love music #levynn tries to think

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khioneee · 3 months ago

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simon didn’t say ‘i love you’

not in the way most people did. but in his own quiet, raw way, he gave you pieces of his heart through the things he did say—words heavy with meaning, words that stuck with you long after they left his lips.

‘i really miss you. don’t know how much more i can take.’ his voice crackled through the comm line, strained and distant. he was halfway across the world, out on another mission, but in that moment, you could hear the weariness seeping into every word. he wasn’t just talking about the mission; he was talking about being without you—like the distance between you was slowly killing him. ‘don’t know how much more of this i’ve got in me.’

‘stay with me. i don’t want you to leave.’ the words came low and rough, slipping out as you tried to leave for work. after being gone for so long, simon wasn’t ready to let you go. not just yet. his hand wrapped around your wrist, gently pulling you back into bed. ‘just a little longer, yeah?’ he murmured, eyes heavy with unspoken need, as if saying goodbye now would tear him apart.

‘i think i like you best when you’re just with me and no one else.’ he muttered it under his breath after a night spent with soap and the lads. they’d stolen your attention all evening, and simon had stayed quiet, watching from the sidelines. but when he finally pulled you aside, his words came low and possessive. there was no jealousy, only the quiet truth that he preferred you like this—just the two of you, away from the rest of the world.

‘i would gladly break my heart for you.’ the fight still hung heavy in the air, your threat to leave cutting deeper than you realized. but simon didn’t raise his voice. his response was quiet, steady, and devastatingly sincere. ‘if it means you’ll be happier… i’d do it. i’d break my heart for you.’ in that moment, you knew his love wasn’t just in the easy moments—it was in the sacrifices he was willing to make, even if it destroyed him.

‘you’re the only good thing in my life,’ he said softly, almost like a confession, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. his voice carried a weariness that hinted at everything he’d been through, all the darkness that clung to him. but you—you were the one light that cut through it all. and in those words, he gave you the truth of his love—whether he could say the words or not.

and that’s how simon told you ‘i love you.’ not with grand declarations or flowery speeches, but with quiet, broken truths. each one more powerful than three simple words could ever be.

an. based on lyrics by cigarettes after sex haha.

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2hightocare · 4 months ago

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COFFEE!

“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”

Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…

Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship.. non idol au

Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333

authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍

They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.

You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.

It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.

You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.

It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.

You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.

Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.

His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.

You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.

A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.

“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.

“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.

Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.

“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.

As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.

It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.

He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.

“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”

Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.

That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.

Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.

It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.

“You remembered?” she said softly.

“I remember every second of us.”

The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.

Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.

This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.

You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.

Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.

"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.

"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.

"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.

You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.

"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.

"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.

"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.

"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”

Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.

"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.

"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.

To be loved is to be seen.

That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.

Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.

This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of

-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.

It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you

-so long as you could experience it with him.

The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.

After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.

As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.

It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.

His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.

He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.

"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.

"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.

"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.

As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.

Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed

"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."

"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.

You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.

"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.

"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."

"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.

As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.

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poguehearted77 · 3 months ago

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Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."

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