#i think growing up like this has made me a stronger person

[surielstea]

Desperate Males

1k celebration request!

Pairing: Poly!Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Morrigan convinces Reader to indulge in her fantasies with the three winged Illyrians, the ones that the reader resents for the way they treat her home court, the hewn city.

Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | p in v | riding | mating press | multi-orgasm | dirty talk | foursome (f, m, m, m) | and probably a lot others

A. Note: Thank you my lovely Lex (@lexluvswriting) for helping me finish this because I was STRUGGLING but I’m happy with how it turned out in the end :)

8.1k words .. half of it’s smut, whoops.

Rita's was packed full of lusting fae and grinding figures, every single body in the pleasure hall was glistening with sweat beneath the dim lighting as they continued to rut against each other.

I was sat in the corner of the building, at a small booth I was sharing with Morrigan, gossiping about our relationship issues over a few too many glasses of wine.

Mor was one of the only people I could tolerate ever since Rhys dragged me out of the Court of Nightmares and to Velaris. I hadn't had much of a choice, the moment he found out I was his mate, he felt some form of entitlement to me, he was fortunate he wasn't ripping me away from anything special, less fortunate when he realized I held the mating bond with his two best friends as well. All three of them, sanctioned to me, a female who had no intention of ever accepting any of their bonds.

Mor was from the hewn city as well, born and raised in that wretched court. It made it easier to talk to her, she understood what I meant when I said it felt like I was living a lie, too good to be true and she knew what I meant when I tried to explain my fear of the ever-imposing threat that it'd be ripped out right from under me at any moment. No one could truly understand the way she could, and though my resentment towards the inner circle was much stronger than hers, she made an effort to relate and be there for me.

"So, how are the boys?" Mor grins suggestively before taking a sip from her drink. I groan, slumping into my seat as I think about the three very annoying males she was referring to.

"Desperate," I grumble and she chuckles into her glass.

"How so?" She smiles, leaning onto her hand propped up by her elbow. "Give me some examples," She urges.

I shake my head with an eye roll, saying, "I don't have any." She gives me an undefeated look, a raise of her brows telling me she was waiting for me to go on. "The stories are too long," I argue but she still remains unwavering.

"Good thing we've got time," She leans back in her seat, getting comfortable as if she was prepared to stay in the pleasure hall with me all night. "Start with Rhys."

Rhysand had a tendency of showing up to the house of wind unannounced, quite a lot. So much so that the male has probably been in this house more than his own. To be fair, he was the one paying for it so I suppose this was just as much his house as any of his other residences, but ever since I started living here his visits began to grow personal. I've only been residing in Velaris for a few months now but he still made it his mission to see me at least every other day. Each time he welcomed himself into the large house he'd have some sort of gift with him, tonight was no exception.

I didn't startle when I heard the front door open, and I barely even flinched when his baritone voice crooned from the direction of the couch as I entered the sitting room. He had his long legs stretched across the couch, his head tilted back against the armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Evening, darling," He drawls and I look at him with an indifferent expression.

"It's the middle of the night," I grumble, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

"I knew you were awake," He intoned and I rolled my eyes, filling my glass up with cold water.

"I'm about to go to bed," I claim, approaching the sitting room to look at him. He angles his head to meet my gaze, a sloppy smirk on his lips.

"Can I join?" He bats his eyelashes dramatically and I debate splashing my freshly poured water into his face. I decide not to, instead silently turning on my heel and retreating down the hallway. He shuffles off the couch and follows right behind me but I pay him no mind. I push open my bedroom door, leaving it open for his entry, because even if he agitated me it'd be a lie to say I disliked his attention. I was a simple female, and making him chase me like this so successfully was amusing, if not a little cruel.

"I have a gift for you," He informs in a sing-song tune.

"When do you not?" I say, placing my water down onto my nightstand and crawling into my large bed, Rhys had insisted on the size when we went furniture shopping so it could fit his wings, I had ignored his foolish assumption that he would ever sleep in my bed, but let him buy me the most expensive mattress anyway.

He reaches into a pocket dimension and removes a flat, rectangular, velvet box, one made for holding tiaras.

"I don't want your money Rhys," I sigh, watching as he situated himself on my bed, his long legs on either side of my hips, encasing me as I practically sit in his lap. "It's not money," He puts a hand up, waving me off. "I don't want your jewels or crowns either," I huff as he places the velvet box directly in front of me.

"It's not— just open it, will you?" His eyes plead with me more than his words. I stifle a curse and pick the ornate box up. It was heavier than I had been expecting, my brows crease as I slowly tilt the lid open, revealing what was inside. It wasn't money or gems, or even a fancy tiara, but a sleek dagger.

The hilt was solid obsidian, embellished with gold detailing, so well crafted it almost felt wrong to be in my hands. Deep red rubies adorned the top of the hilt in a teardrop shape, pointing up to the blade that's been polished to an impossibly sharp edge, Illyrian steel based upon the rich color of the metal. It was utterly elegant, in such a lethally arresting way.

I take the dagger from its confining box, my touch is delicate as I admire it from all angles, the blade moves so fluidly like the steel morphed into liquid when moving through the air. "You like it?" Rhys' voice breaks me from my trance and I grip the hilt a little tighter, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.

"It's unlike anything I've seen before," I murmur, still entranced by its beauty and the way it moved. He smiled at that, proud of himself for finding a way to impress me.

"It's an heirloom," He confesses and my expression drops, looking up at him.

"I can't take this," I immediately say, attempting to shove the dagger back into his hands.

"Sure you can," He sighs. "I have no use for it, and I heard you have a collection of pretty blades," He says, leaning back on his palms and ignoring the way I was haphazardly thrusting the dagger toward him.

"No, Rhys," I declare and his ears perk at the use of his nickname, he's been only Rhysand specifically for the last few months. "I can't, you're only doing all of this because we're supposed to be mates," I say. "I'm not worthy of your gifts, you're just blinded by the effects of the bond,” I say but my explanation must’ve failed to reach his ears because his smile simply remains.

"Darling, I'm a powerful male, if I didn't want the mating bond to affect me I wouldn't let it," He says cockily and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling at his pride. "I'm doing this, because I want to, it's that simple," He places his large hands on mine, closing my fingers around the dagger. "But, if you don't want it then—" He starts and I shake my head hurriedly. "No, no I do want it," I grip his hands tighter and his brows raise a fraction. "Perfect," His smile returns, but his hands don't let go of mine and maybe for a moment I let myself indulge in his comforting touch.

"And you're telling me the two of you didn't fuck after that?" Mor questioned, an appalled look on her face as I ended my story about the High Lord.

"He gave me a blade, it wasn't exactly getting me hot and bothered," I scoff and she smirks.

"He could've given you another blade," She murmured under her breath but it wasn't quiet enough for me to miss. "Mor!" I look at her with wide eyes but she only snickers.

"Okay, I'm not totally convinced you dislike him, but tell me about Cass," She urges and I deadpan.

"Are you going to make sex jokes again?" I raise an assuming brow.

"No promises," She croons. "Now tell me about him."

Cassian loved to strut around half-naked. His shirt was often absent when I was around. It was an obvious ploy to swoop me off my feet, to get me drooling over his more than impressive abdomen and his arms that could crush my head in. And perhaps I did drool over him in the solitude of my bedroom, but I'd never let him know that.

I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my dinner when I nearly choked on my bite of food as Cassian strolled in, clad in nothing but pants and glistening in sweat from training. His hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat at the back of his head, a sword half the size of me slung over his shoulder in a sheath. I swallow my food with effort, my eyes unable to avert from every expanse of skin starting below his neck.

"Hey sweetheart," He says, kicking the front door shut. I snapped my gaze to his but the smirk on his face made it evident that he caught me staring. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, propping his sword up against the side of the counter. I didn’t make dinner, he knew that, because if I had I would be retroactively accepting the mating bond, he just wanted to put the idea in my head.

"Az did," I say through bites, the shadow singer beside me, silently reading a book, successfully not paying Cassian any mind unlike me.

"Is it any good or do you miss my cooking?" He asks with an amused smile, earning him a glare from the spymaster.

"It's delicious," I say, taking another large bite. I hadn't meant to indirectly compliment Azriel but he slightly smiled at my insult on Cassian, then returning to his reading.

The other male grumbled beneath his breath like a toddler throwing a fit as he made himself a plate that seemed more like a feast fit for a starving man, walking to the table and sitting down directly in front of me.

"You're not going to change?" I ask and he raises a brow and looks down at himself.

"Do you, want me to?" He said, slightly confused.

"Well, what if I started showing up to dinner shirtless?" I cross my arms with a scowl, Cassian's eyes light with amusement and Azriel begins to choke on his own air, muffling his coughs as he stuffed his face into his arms.

"I don't think we'd mind," Cassian winked at me and I looked down at my plate, silently cursing myself for walking right into that one.

"I just think it's bad table manners, is all," I murmur, leaning onto my hand as I roll my food over with my fork, playing with it aimlessly.

"If it has that much of an effect on you, I'll go change," He begins to stand and I whip my gaze up, staring at him with creased brows, not wanting him to think I was entirely bothered by it.

"It doesn't have an effect on me," I blurt out and a smirk curves his lips.

"Then I won't change," He sits back down.

"Fine," I say.

"Fine," He agrees.

Dinner went on a regularity from there, that was until I was clearly done with my food and I hadn't retreated to my room like usual, instead, I was far too distracted analyzing all the scars on Cassian's tanned skin, the ones that had stories behind them that I'd most likely never hear, the ones I would've never seen if he hadn't come home without a shirt.

His chest was on full display, rippling in muscle, a tight abdomen that would have me lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering when I stared at it for a moment too long. And gods, his arms made my thoughts wander beyond just arousal, it was more than a craving. My hands were practically shaking in my lap and I was just grateful they were beneath the table.

My eyes snag on a particular scar cutting across his ribs and up to his sternum, it must've been a mess of blood and gore when he got it, only for it to heal over as a simple line slightly darker than his skin tone, beautiful.

"I got it in a duel," Cassian said and I whipped my head up, locking eyes with him.

"What?" I say, my back ramrod straight, visibly embarrassed by the fact that I was just caught for staring so unabashedly.

"My scar," He places a hand over it, tracing two fingers down the raised skin with a practiced, rehearsed movement like he's down it thousands of times before. "It was from an angry husband, his wife neglected to mention she was married and he took some offense towards our, familiarity." He explained. "Insisted on a duel," He shrugged, and I blinked in slight shock.

"You, lost a duel?" I said like the idea was obscene. "Aren't you considered one of the best swordsmen on the continent?" I raised a brow and he shrugged.

"Seemed like the right thing to do," He flashed a charming smile that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before. "You're ridiculous," I said, standing up and grabbing my plate, walking into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink. The Illyrian followed after me with his own plate, reaching over me and placing it in the basin beside mine.

I whirl around, which turned out to be admittedly a mistake. His bare chest was so close to my face that it was an effort to crane my neck up, keeping eye contact and not letting myself crumble beneath his gaze. "What do you think?" He asks and my eyes regrettably flick down to the scar, and I can't help myself as I reach forward, my fingers brushing over the rough line of skin and I swear for a moment both of us stop breathing. I tentatively pull my hand away, looking up at him with a smirk.

"I think you have enough testosterone to fuel an army," I hum, patting his chest before pushing past him and removing myself from the kitchen, attempting to ignore the way my hand remembered the feel of his skin against it.

Cassian turned to Azriel as soon as I was out of earshot. "That's a good thing, right?" The male mutters with a line between his brows. Azriel's eyes flick up from his novel to look at his brother. "I don't think so, no." He shakes his head, then returns to his page while Cassian's shoulders slump in defeat and he retreats to his room to find a shirt.

"You're telling me, you had your hand on Cassian, the male pushing seven feet, skin to skin and you didn't immediately surrender?" Morrigan says, her brows creased as she grows increasingly worried about my well-being. "Are you sick or something?" She reaches over the table, pressing a hand to my forehead and I scoff, the annoyed sound turning into a laugh as I push her hand away.

"I'm not sick," I claim. "Just a female who has no interest in large, muscular, beautiful, tan males," I grumble, taking a sip from my glass, my voice trailing off as I go on about how truly magnificent they are.

"Right," She settles back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "So," She smirks. "I know you've been saving the best for last," She leans forward, her grin uncontrollable as she rests her elbows on the table while she insists, "Tell me about Azriel."

My experience in Velaris so far was enjoyable— despite the three winged males, the people were kind here, the men didn't stare, the children weren't sickly, and the women held more value than the curvature of their bodies. It was nice here, like some false paradise.

A small part of me would forever hate Rhys and all the others living in his secret city for blindly living their perfect lives, while innocent people dreaded waking up every morning— because the best time they spent was unconscious, in their horrid city just below the mountain, only a short trip away. Such a drastic shift of atmosphere.

Sometimes when my guilt of being happy began to grow too unbearable I found myself in the library. The first and only place so far I've felt entirely safe. It was quiet here, enough to clear my thoughts, but not enough for unwanted ones to creep in. Priestesses bustled around the building with carts and stacks of books, keeping the tenor lively and welcoming.

So it was a shock when my safe space was suddenly and harshly ripped away from me when I saw a familiar winged Illyrian sitting in the spot I always chose. It wasn't mine by any means, but the bastard must've known this was the alcove I selected every time I came here, there was no way he just so happened to favor this spot as well with the amount of floors alone this place had.

"Move," I was particularly upset this morning due to lack of sleep from incessant nightmares. He only smirks, his eyes slow as they left the book he was so engrossed with, and dragged up to my features. Hazel pools flickering with amusement as he meets my gaze.

"Oh? Is this your spot?" He tilts his head mockingly and I grip my book harder.

I disliked Rhys for how he acts in the Hewn City, and Cassian for his overtly boisterous and arrogant behavior, but Azriel— no one quite got under my skin like Azriel. I couldn't exactly pin down why he made me so frustrated, perhaps it was because he would be the easiest to like, or maybe it was because I always thought he was the prettiest whenever they'd make their annual appearance in my home court, something about that particular fact made me hot with both rage and excitation.

"Well, I haven't exactly seen you sitting here before," I argue, clutching my book to my chest with furrowed brows.

"Fair point," He hums while scooting over and offering me a few more inches of space. It wasn't exactly the largest amount of seating area but he was kind enough to move, and I was far too tired to continue arguing. So I settled in beside him.

The spot I favored over all the others was nestled in a carved-out alcove, hidden from any peering eyes, located between shelves full of various hardback spines. The only viewpoint was from the balcony upstairs, or straight ahead. It felt safe, and I've yet to find any other place I liked as much as this one, so I was open to sharing as long as he kept to his book and I kept to mine, silently.

But the olive green couch wasn't big enough for the both of us and I quietly cursed his insanely large wings for taking up the entire area, one of the dark limbs spread out behind me while the other hung off the edge of the couch, the one behind my back however forced me closer to him, my side pressed against his, and my legs that I had pressed to my chest leaning onto his lap, so much so that I might as well have just been sitting in it, we must've looked ridiculous.

Nevertheless, he opened his book back up and offered me the peaceful quiet I craved. I did the same, cracking my book and finding the page I was on.

It was nice for a moment, the awkward silence morphing into something more comfortable as it grew familiar between us. I had even gotten a few chapters in before I reached a much more, graphic, chapter. The descriptions were downright erotic, and suddenly everything the male did stopped mattering because I was now entirely consumed by the book I had randomly picked off the shelves this morning.

"What are you reading?" He was so very close to my ear that I felt his breath against it, and I snapped my book shut, the sound echoing off the shelves of the quiet library.

"None of your business," I retort, whipping my head to him with stern brows, he narrows his at me suspiciously. "What about you?" I jerk my head towards his closed book like it's been neglected for more than just a few seconds. "Is it a guide on how to kill your brothers? Because I might be interested in reading that one next," I say with a smirk and he mirrors it.

"I wish, Cass practically kicked me out this morning with his atrocious singing while he made himself lunch," He grumbled and my lip quivered upward, my amusement unmanageable at the scene he put in my head, and I cursed myself because, of course, he notices.

"Oh, you think I'm funny?" He says and he was so damned close that one inch closer would result in noses brushing.

"Shh." I press my pointer finger to his soft lips. "No talking in the library." I smirk at him teasingly, removing my touch from his sensuous lips, dragging the bottom one down only for it to spring back up when I let go in an oddly satisfying way.

"We don't have to talk," He suggests, catching my hand before it can fall to my lap. My cheeks grow hot as he interlaces our fingers, palms pressing together, soft skin against scars. He notices my blush and moves that lethal inch closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against mine. "You want to kiss me so badly," He continues his taunts and I scowl, but I don't dare move away.

"Shut up," I bite back.

"Are you going to make me?" He arches a perfect brow and I grit my teeth, deciding I won't play his stupid games. I detangle our hands and turn away from him, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

"You're just as bad as your brothers," I claim, opening my book again.

"You wound me," He gasps in faux pain and I roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the quiet one?" I huff, attempting to find the page I was on.

"Just because they're loud doesn't mean I don't speak too," He states, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Whatever," I grumble, and his wing curls around me a little tighter. He stayed silent for a moment, just a moment of relieving peace, but it was over as soon as it began and I was grateful for the second, but the opposite of gratitude came over me when he spoke again.

"This is filthy, love," He runs his finger down the edge of my book and I close the novel again, this time quietly so it doesn't reverberate throughout the library again.

"I'm not shaming you," His voice is deep and seductive as he speaks, so very close to my ear I swear with every word I could feel it vibrate down my spine. "Just wanted to let you know I'm open to recreating it," He suggested and I sighed, deciding I'd had enough of his banter, and stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I looked back to him.

"You're relentless," I say and he shrugs with a coy smile.

"No goodbye kiss?" He hums and I only shake my head and storm out of the alcove, leaving the library more frustrated than I was when I arrived.

"And?" Mor gestures her hands, demanding more.

"That was it," I shrug.

"You didn't go back and make out with him?" She creased her brows like I was insane.

"No, because I don't need a male to enjoy my life," I say. "You are one to understand that," I suggest with my brows raising and she simply rolls her eyes with dissatisfaction.

"Yeah, but— that doesn't mean you should strip yourself the pleasure of having all three of them," She wiggles her brows and my cheeks grow hot. "Or you could just pick one and miss out with the rest," She adds, before taking a sip from her glass, the liquid inside nearly gone.

I thought it might've been impossible to just pick one. They all had their own personalities and unique qualities, and what if I somehow chose wrong? What if my decision came between the three of them? Then again why can't I just have all three of them? They're all so kind to me, and they're funny, and so very gorgeous, and— "Oh gods, I'm in love," I gasp quietly, my hand cupping over my mouth at the devastating recognition.

Morrigan only nods with a wide grin, like she's been waiting for me to realize since we sat down in this booth. "What do I do?" Suddenly I don't know how to think, or how to act.

"Put them out of their misery and feed those poor bastards," She proposed and I groaned with defiance.

“I’ve been working so hard to ignore their pathetic acts for the last five months, I can’t just give in now.” I practically melt onto the table, my head falling into my arms dramatically.

“Hey, listen to me,” She grabs me by the face, smushing my cheeks as she emphasizes every word. “Do you want them to fuck you senseless?” She asks and I sigh, but inevitably nod with a pitying frown. “Then go." She releases my face and shoos me with her hands and I smile as I stand up. “You’re the best Morrigan,” I claim and she winks at me. “I know,” She shrugs and I blow her a kiss before winnowing to where the tether between the three men felt the strongest.

Which landed me in a cabin I'd never been in before, the sitting room warmed by the crackling fire in the hearth.

Whatever conversation the three males were having halted when I showed up. They all looked at me with analyzing eyes, raking up and down my figure, still in my party dress from Rita's, the material tight, hugging every curve and dip of my body and ending high on my thighs, showing off the entirety of my legs and an obscene amount of cleavage, which the males definitely didn't miss.

Cassian and Rhys were sat on a sofa in front of the fire, Azriel was situated in a large leather chair that he claimed like some sort of king, distanced from the fire I notice. All three of them had short crystal glasses, a matching decanter sat on the coffee table halfway filled with an amber liquid.

"Hey, sweetheart," Cassian was the first to speak. "What brings you here?" He hums and I clench my jaw. What was I doing here? Silently I whirl on my heel and walk towards the kitchen, finding a bowl of fruit situated on the counter. I grabbed an orange from the variety, taking my time to peel the rind off, the three of them staring at me curiously as I approached them again, splitting the pieces of the fruit into thirds, handing each of them a slice without a single word.

"Are oranges supposed to pair well with whiskey?" Rhys held the fruit up, staring at it confused as if the High Lord truly didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't seriously going to make me say it, was he?

"Eat," I demand but they only stare at me with blank eyes and I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "Whoever's orange is gone first I'll make out with," I say and within the blink of an eye all three of their slices of fruit were gone, but I caught Azriel swallowing first so I approach him and take the liberty of sliding over his lap.

He wastes no time before putting his hands on me and pulling me into him, his lips immediately finding mine.

I smile at the citrusy taste still ghosting his tongue as he pushes it into my mouth, tasting every inch he can find like a starved animal, craving more. My hand goes into his hair while his scarred ones slowly slip beneath my dress, gripping me tightly and pinning me down onto his hips, allowing me to feel just how hard he was beneath me.

Desperate, indeed.

"Az," I whine softly and he groans at the sound, his kisses turning sloppy as he loses himself entirely in the taste of me.

"Alright," Cassian's voice calls, familiar, large hands coming to my waist and pulling me off of Azriel's lap with ease, throwing me over a broad shoulder.

"Is this what it's going to be like mated to you three?" I say, still upside down as Cassian's hands roam the backs of my thighs, then higher. "Passed around between you three like some doll?" I say, secretly not minding the idea.

"If you don't want to be passed around," He tosses me down onto a large bed. "We can always share at once," He hums and I had an unshakable feeling that I would be split in half if I took all of them for the first time, at once.

"No, I like being passed around," I say with bright red cheeks and he smirks, guiding me up onto the bed, my head meeting the pillows.

"Then who do you want first?" He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Rhys," I look to the high lord. "I want Rhys," I say and the violet-eyed male raised a brow, his smirk uncontrollable as he approached the bedside. Cassian moved off of me and Rhys took his place over me, his lips finding mine with ease.

He kisses softly at first but that only last so long before he's leaving my mouth and beginning to nip and suck on my neck, licking over it to soothe the marks. I writhe beneath him, my hands in his dark hair as I ache for more. I reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt with one hand before moving to the ties confining his hardened bulge.

"No darling, you're going to ride me," He says breathily into my neck and my hand halts on his pants. He smirked at my reaction and flipped us over so I was on top. He unzips the back of my dress with ease, helps me slip it off with gentle hands as I straddle over his hips, now completely bare for all three of them, but it was only Rhys' eyes I was focused on at the moment.

I rut my hips down over the imprint in his pants, releasing a soft sigh as the action puts friction on my clit. He smiled up at me and how needy I was for him already.

He takes his pants the rest of the way off, his boxers along with it and I can't help but smile at the sight of him, his tip pulsing and red, and the length of him was intimidating enough on its own. "You think you're ready for me?" He asks, ripping my panties off with an ease I marveled at, but before I could reply to his question he swiped his fingers through my folds and my breath hitched at the stimulation, my arousal soaking his fingers, he pulls them back for me to see and I flush in embarrassment at how wet I already was.

"Oh, darling I've barely touched you," he smirks and I look away from his eyes, attempting to get my blush under control. "There's no need to be shy," He guides my face back to look at him. "Be good and take all of me, yeah?" He arches a dark brow and I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I rise on my knees while he helps align himself with my entrance.

He looks at me pointedly and I nod, then sink myself down onto him, ever so slowly.

"That's it," He grunts out as my cunt swallows around the head of his cock. He throws his head back into the pillows as I sink deeper, reaching the halfway point and clenching around him hard.

My nails scratched down his chest as the unfamiliar stretched, his eyes gleaming with pure lust until eventually my hips pressed against his and I let out a sinful moan as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves deep inside of me, kissing it softly.

"Rhys," I sigh, my nails digging into his abdomen as my cunt twitched around him. His hands come to my hips, slowly guiding me back and forth, manually making me grind on him.

"Fuck, taking me so well," He grits between his teeth, already restraining himself.

My back involuntarily arches as he kisses up against that sensitive spot again, moans tumbling from my lips as I begin to bounce myself up and down on his cock. He smiles hazily, his hands leaving my waist in favor of cupping my breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over my peaked nipples. My breath hitched at the sensation, clenching around him tighter as he groped them, tweaking them between his fingers, making my release barrel closer.

"So good for me, getting yourself off on my cock," He admires and I nod, a whimper slipping from my lips as I pull myself out to his tip then let gravity slam me back down onto him, the head of his length pounding into my sacred spot, making me release a lewd moan, screaming out his name as I clamp around the width of him, a ring of white forming around the base of his cock.

"Feels so, so good darling," He says breathlessly. "Such a good girl," He murmurs and I throw my head back at the praise.

"I'm close— Rhys, I can't," I pant out, unable to catch my breath with the way he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. "Me too, fuck— keep doing that," He grunted. "Keep squeezing me so tight, just like that," He instructs and I nod, my pussy taking all of him as he twitches deep inside of me, signaling that he was close.

I go faster, my thighs burning with the movement but I ignore the pain, delighting in the pleasure he was giving me. He pounds into me relentlessly, both of us teetering along that edge, and the moment his hands find my nipples again I'm left helpless, and suddenly I rise to my climax, coming to a crescendo as I meet my peak of pleasure.

I gasp as his warm cum seeps into my cunt, spurting out of his cock with one last clench of my core and he released a thick white liquid. "Gods, such a good girl," He sighs out, his large hands groping my breasts one last time before they dip down to my waist, and help guide me off of his length, laying me back into the bed.

"Cass," I murmured, keeping my legs together in order to hold Rhys' release inside of me. "Cassian, I want you next," I pant out, still not entirely over the high that Rhys left me with but I already wanted more, and lucky for me the male was there quickly, switching with Rhys as he hovers over me, his pants already absent and his cock leaking a milky substance, the sight making my mouth water. He was noticeably wider than Rhys, and I debated whether or not he'd tear me in two.

"Flip around, wanna feel your pretty pussy from behind," He hums and I do as he says, turning onto my stomach and hiking up onto my knees. His calloused hands find my hips, helping me guide them up higher, my back forming a perfect crescent as I keep my face in the pillows and maximize my arch.

"You ready for more sweetheart?" He asks and I nod, tears welling in my eyes as his heavy cock slaps against my soaking folds, my arousal dripping onto him as Rhys' release cascaded down my thighs. He lathers himself in my liquids, his pre-cum adding to the mixture.

"Want you, Cass," I murmur. "Don't hold back," I add and I can practically feel the way he was smirking. His tip prodding against my pulsing entrance.

"Tell me if it's too much alright?" He kisses my shoulder softly, his rough voice gentle as it meets my ear. I nod, but before any more words are spoken he grips my hips tighter and thrusts inside of me.

I gasp, breath being lost on me as I fist the sheets beneath me. "Cass," I cry out, the width of him stretching against my walls, molding me to him.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," He sighs out and I gripe, writhing beneath him as he pushes deeper and deeper, forcing my legs wider so he could enter more comfortably.

My breathing is labored as his hips finally snap against my ass. He groans at the feeling of his cock entirely sheathed inside of my cunt, stretching me beyond capacity like a sleeve made just for him.

"Please, Cass," I whine and he leans over me, my back bowing against his chest, his lips coming beside my ear.

"We only just started, sweetheart," He taunted, nipping at my shoulder.

Ever so slowly he pulls out, removing himself only about halfway before slamming back into me with an outmatched force. I screamed at the switch of pace, his thrusts coming quickly, pushing me up the bed.

I reached forward, gripping the headboard to stop my body from unconsciously running away from him. He drove his hips forward harshly, his balls slapping against my folds. His hands left my hips in favor of my ass, handling me roughly as I arched beneath him, feeling his width deeper the lower into the pillows I went.

"Good girl.” He throws his head back, sweat glistening as it rolls down his chest, into the groves of his abdomen. I mewl loudly, incapable of forming words as he fucks me beyond sentences.

"Such pretty noises you're making for me," He hums, his lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Am I making you feel good?" He whispers and I swallow thickly, tears brimming my eyes as I nod helplessly, defenseless under him like this. He smirks at my unsolicited actions as I grip around his shaft tighter, delighting in how good it feels as he stretches me.

His hands returned to the curve of my ass, gripping the plush skin in his large hands, loving the way it left red imprints, marking me as his, as theirs.

"Pull my hair," I murmur.

"What was that, pretty girl?" He leans over me and I flush shyly, I knew he heard me the first time.

"Pull my hair," I repeat and he smiles.

"Yeah? You want that?" He wraps his hand around my locks, gripping the back of my skull before tugging on it and I moan, my release catching up to me as he manhandles me, just how I wanted. His grip tightens as I squeeze around his cock, his heavy balls continuing to clap against my neglected folds. "That's it, baby, just like that," He assures, watching as I lose myself in the heat, fire blooming over my skin as my release barrels closer and closer.

"Please," Tears slip down my cheeks. "Let me cum, I’m close," I mewl, gripping the headboard tighter, my nails denting the wood.

"Already?" He teased and I nod, pushing myself back onto his cock and he grunts, twitching inside of me and brushing against my elastic walls. "Go ahead, make a mess sweetheart," He allows and I immediately follow his order, my orgasm ripping through me for the second time tonight, his following soon after, shooting his load of cum into me, filling my every crevice and mixing with Rhysand's inside of me.

I grip at the sheets as he pumps into me one last time and I clamp down on him, milking his cock as he slowly removes himself from me and collapses down onto the bed beside me.

My legs ache as I sink back down into the mattress, my intense high slowly fading away as I flip over onto my back.

I jolt as a cold sensation runs up my thighs, skidding across my waist and meeting my breasts, shadows swirling around the peaks of my nipples, slowly tightening and beginning to tweak the hardened buds.

"Az," I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't," I murmur, far too overstimulated to even think about taking another round.

"You can." He comes between my legs, shadows forming at my thighs and prying them open, forcing them to stay even when I try to close them. I can make out the way Cassian's cum seeps out of my cunt and down my ass, the feeling making my mouth water for Azriel's cum too, wanted all of their release to mix in my womb.

"There's so many things I've wanted to do to you," He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "Things I've imagined doing to you," He confesses, beginning to place soft pecks up the side of my neck, to my jaw. "Which one of us do you think of when you touch yourself?" He asks, his lips ghosting over mine and my brows bunch because it'd be a lie if I said I ever thought about just one of them.

"I asked you a question," He purrs, his hands coming to my wrists, gathering them up above my head. "Be a good girl and answer it for me." The tip of his nose runs along the side of my neck before his lips make contact with the side of my throat, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.

"All of you," I confess, pulling slightly at my wrists as he lets go but shadows have them pinned down too.

"Yeah? Do you like to imagine all three of us ruining all your pretty, wet holes at once?" He croons, his mouth just beside my ear and I writhe, unable to even grind against my own thighs since his shadows were holding me open, leaving me desperate and vulnerable for his own pleasure.

"Az," I whine.

"Tell me," He demands. "Tell me what you think about when your fingers are stuffed in your needy cunt," He hums and my brows crease at how humiliating this all was.

"I think about all three of you, fucking all my pretty holes," I confess and he smiles proudly.

"Yeah? Does that get you off?" He hums and I nod with a whimper, murmuring a pathetic, "Mhm."

His fingers are barely there as he drags them up my figure, then back down to my hips, keeping me restrained as I clench around nothing.

"I need you inside of me, please," I beg and he manically grins, kissing along my jaw, nipping at it as I continue to pull against his shadows.

"Such a needy little thing aren't you?" He taunts and I nod, agreeing with whatever he wants me to as long as he pushes himself inside of me. "Yeah? Don't worry baby, I'm going to ruin you." He said, his grip tightening on my hips as he pressed his tip to my entrance, and without another warning, pushed inside of me.

I screamed his name loudly at the intense feeling, he didn't waste time and he most definitely wasn't gentle like Rhys, or kind like Cassian, he was fucking me like an animal, and I loved every second of it.

Maybe it was because I was overstimulated but he felt so fucking long inside of me, and when his length was fully sheathed in my cunt I swore he was up against my cervix.

Shadows released my thighs for only a moment so that he could adjust my legs, pulling them up to my sides and putting me into a mating press.

"Gods, you're taking me so well," He admires, staring down at me with low-lidded eyes as I let him withdraw everything he wants from me, his cock nestled deep inside of me as I take him deeper and deeper while he fucked me into the mattress, unrelenting and so very stimulating.

"That's it, so fucking good," He throws his head back at the feeling of my puffy cunt squeezing around him torturously tight. "Gods, I'm going to fuck this wet pussy until you beg me to stop," He groans and I moan at his lewd words, and the sounds of his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs, his full balls smacking into my ass as he continued his rough pace.

He looks down at me, sweat lining my forehead and a permanent blush over my cheeks, tears running down the sides of my face as he uses me.

"You look so pretty tied up like this," He smirks, analyzing my every breath, as if needing to remember this for later.

My mouth is open, moans escaping the base of my throat with each of his thrusts, the head of his long cock kissing my cervix and I scream, my nails digging into my palms as I fight off my orgasm, feeling my encroaching climax grow closer and closer.

"Az—" I start, barely able to get his name out before I'm cut off by another moan. "I have to—" I can't even say it, tears blurring my vision as he continues to pummel into me and I deflect my third release. "You already have to cum baby?" He smirks down at me and I nod, so grateful he understood but my gratitude dwindled away with his next words. "You wanna cum? You think you've earned it?"

I nod fervently, my body aching at the position he had me stuck in. I convulse around the base thick of his cock, the back of my head buried in the pillows as I plead for my climax but he wasn't allowing it until he came too.

I force my legs open wider and he hits into me deeper, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.

"I can't Az," I plead. "I promise, I'll be a good girl just, let me cum," I say and he groans at how I sounded begging for my own release, the sounds of my moans pushing him closer to that edge.

"Alright baby, go ahead, come all over my cock," He commands and I obey without another thought, my release slamming into me hard, resulting in me shaking beneath him, my legs jolting as he slowly unpins them and lets me wrap my legs around his torso, riding out my high as he presses into my cervix and with one last harsh thrust he grunts and releases his seed into my womb, mixing it with Rhysand's and Cassian's.

My cunt is left red and swollen as he removes himself from my entrance, I close my legs as soon as he was gone, not letting any of their releases escape me, keeping it tucked inside. The mating bond affected me so much that I wanted to feel this fucked out all the time, have them fill me at every moment, drunk on their cocks.

"You did so well for us," Azriel hums, sinking into the bed beside me, my ass up against him as I flip onto my side and face Cassian, his lips finding mine, biting at my lower one while Rhys' hands fondle my oversensitive breasts. "Poor baby, she thinks we're done," Azriel hums, his cock hardening again, pressing to my ass.

"Please," I whimper but none of them stop their movements.

"It's time to take us all at once, darling," Rhys said and I gasped as I felt his hand cup my heat.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Cass asks and I can only nod helplessly.

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[tsimvkas]

i wish you were sober — trent a.

A/N: oh here we are 🫶🏻 tbh ive been super nervous about writing a long fic for trent for the first time so i’d really appreciate if you could tell me your thoughts about it mwah!!

word count: 21.9k (wow wow wow) | masterlist

content: childhood friends to lovers, angst, smut, drunk!trent and fluff

Every time your best friend Trent has too many shots, the pair of you share a kiss. And he never remembers it.

You’ve met Trent Alexander-Arnold when he was still only Trentie, your colleague in kindergarten. A sweet and endearing kid, who would play with you every afternoon before napping on the little child’s bed next to yours.

Growing with him was something special. He became funnier with time, but always affectionate towards you. He’d always invite you to his house, to play with water balloons or hide and seek with the kids in the street.

The teenager stage was the hardest for your friendship.

Following his career up close, you got to discover a new Trent when things became more serious, so focused and dedicated, but also without time for you. You weren’t selfish, and you knew that football was all or nothing for him, so you tried your best to support him no matter what.

When he was finally called up for the first team, everything changed for the better. He was still the busiest person you’ve ever met, always so dedicated and focused, but your efforts were recognised and from that moment on your friendship only became stronger.

Trent always did his best to see you between training sessions and matches, sometimes dragging you with him to photoshoots and ad recordings. His family sees you as one of their own, and yours looks at him the same way.

You couldn’t imagine your life without things like the monthly BBQ at the Alexander-Arnold’s yard anymore, and the family trip to Anfield so you could all support him. Both families get along so well, and you’re sure you won the lottery with this rare and special type of friendship.

But things started to change for you when the first kiss happened. A party full of famous people wasn’t what you were looking for that day, but Trent dragged you there anyway.

He asked you to drive so he could drink and of course you accepted. The same way he would do everything in his power to make you happier, you would always help him too, so you hadn’t had any drink that night and as the hours passed you started to want nothing more than your house.

It got incredibly worse when you spotted a heavily drunk Trent chatting with a girl after looking for him for about half an hour. It usually never bothered you to see someone hitting on him and vice versa, but this specifically time stung.

When he was too drunk, he’d always reach out for you and let you know, so you could keep an eye at him and make sure he’d have water and painkillers the next day, but this time he had leave you alone in a place you knew no one, just so he could get some.

You remember debating for a while if you should go there and end his party or let him mind his business and try to distract yourself until he was tired enough to ask you to leave, but you hadn’t had the chance to make a decision though, as a blonde and muscular man approached you.

You both were chatting and laughing together when Trent got closer, suddenly circling your waist whilst nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

The blonde guy, Liam, looked at you with a funny face before asking if you needed help, but your best friend didn’t let you answer before mumbling that he wanted to leave.

A clingy Trent wasn’t unusual for you, always cuddling and snuggling together, but when he brushed a kiss against your neck the weird and new feeling in the pitch of your stomach made you shiver.

“Alright, I also think we should get going, Trentie” you tapped his arm on your belly, and Liam raised an eyebrow at you.

“Are you sure you don't want me to drop you home?” he smiled softly, but before you could answer Trent squeezed your arm.

“Can you grab my hoodie for me? I left it in the cupboard” he murmured. You nodded, telling Lim you’d be right back and quickly making your way to the door underneath the stairs.

When you came back with his fluffy hoodie in your hands, Liam was nodding his head to a serious Trent.

“Everything’s ok?” you frowned, since Trent didn’t look that sober a minute ago, but none of them answered.

“Wear it” your best friend motioned his head to the hoodie. “It’s cold outside”

You obeyed, pulling the hoodie over your head. Trent offered you his hand, and you grabbed it whilst turning to Liam in order to say goodbye.

“Will you take my number or what?” you playfully rolled your eyes.

His pale cheeks instantly turned red, and Liam shook his head.

“Sorry, Y/N. You’re really nice and beautiful and I’d love to know you better, but I think it’s better not” he scratched the back of his head, and the atmosphere instantly became awkward.

You shrugged, not actually knowing what to say. “Ok. C’mon, Trent”

When you made it to the car, you made sure Trent’s seat belt was correct before getting behind the wheel. Turning the engine, you sighed loudly.

“See? You don’t believe me when I tell you but they don’t like me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but something clearly is” you started to drive to his house.

In general, Trent doesn’t like to leave his house, and that’s why he only goes to parties thrown by close friends which usually happens to be next to him.

The drive was quick and silent, and once you parked in front of his house he turned to face you.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect, Y/N, and I like you”

You smiled appreciatively, turning the engine off since he decided to chat instead of saying bye and jumping out of the car, like his drunk ass usually does.

“You’re my best friend, Trent. What I’m trying to say is that no one likes me romantically” you gave him a small shrug.

Taking the seat belt off, he got up and rested his knee on his seat so he could lean closer to you.

Not fully understanding what was happening, your first reaction was to hold your breath and freeze in place when Trent got too close.

You aren’t dumb nor blind. Trent has always been pretty and hot, but more than that he is adorable. Gentle, curious, caring. And way out of your league.

In all these years of friendship he never looked at you like he wanted something else, so you always tried your best to keep sane.

They were friendly touches. They were friendly pet names. They were friendly cuddles, sleepovers and trips together.

You’ve been holding back your thoughts so you wouldn’t fall for someone you couldn’t have. You’ve been trying really hard, as you truly believe that a genuine friendship between a man and a woman can exist.

But when his lips brushed against yours and you closed your eyes, you couldn’t fight the thoughts anymore.

He was your best friend, but he was also the guy you wanted. With his silly jokes, strong arms holding you, a chill personality and pretty eyes looking back at you to check if you think he’s actually that funny.

Alexander-Arnold was definitely your type and you knew this all along; he just wasn’t available for you.

The kiss lasted a few minutes before Trent pulled away and looked at you with wide eyes. You didn’t know how to react or what to say, and the car stayed in silence for a while before he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you for taking care of me tonight. See ya”

You watched him jumping out of the car and quickly entering his house, the one he lives in with his parents and Marcel, and turning around to wave at you. Waving back, you headed home with both your mind and heart racing.

Discovering that he didn’t remember the kiss when he woke up the next morning hurt you a lot, but it also made you think if the universe wasn’t giving you both another chance to not screw up your friendship.

Then it happened again, and a second time left you even more confused. The way he kissed you tenderly, so different from what you expected a drunk kiss from Trent to be.

It happened a third time. And a fourth. In every party, he’d have a few shots and come to you, kissing you softly. You knew it wasn’t right, the fact that you’ve been carrying this alone whilst he couldn’t remember.

It felt like the destiny of your friendship with Trent was exclusively in your hands, and you hated it.

The pair of you spent a few months like this — even though it was wrong, you couldn’t force yourself to deny him or tell him you didn’t want that, because you did. Until the last time you agreed to go to a party with him.

You knew your kisses didn’t exactly meant anything, especially if Trent couldn’t remember them later, but it still hurt you when you left to grab water and came back to him flirting with a girl.

A girl that looked nothing like you, by the way.

Cleaning your throat, you got closer and tapped his shoulder, waiting for him to turn his head back and look at you. He gave you a disinterested look at first, and your stomach instantly churned.

“I’m not feeling good. I’m leaving now, are you staying?” you murmured.

Truth be told, you were secretly hoping he’d say yes. No matter how much it bothered you seeing him with other girls, it was the only way to convince yourself that he wasn’t yours. Not like that.

But the look in his eyes instantly became worried, and you had to bite your lips to stop you from smiling every time he showed concern for you.

“What’s wrong?” he turned completely to you, his back now facing the girl forgotten in the corner.

“I’ll be fine, just need to sleep” you shrugged.

Trent instantly grabbed his phone in his pocket and reached for your hand, guiding you outside without even saying goodbye to the other girl.

You couldn’t force yourself to feel sorry for her.

Without questioning you, he called an Uber to his house and hugged you for the quick drive, making you stay over.

Once in the safety of his room, Trent sat in the bed and reached his arms out to you.

“What are you feeling? Do you have any pain, nausea?” he asked gently, holding your waist when you got closer.

“I just need to sleep, Trent”

“C’mon, baby. What’s wrong? Is your sensitive tummy again? If you tell me I can grab the med for you” he caressed your stomach underneath the baby tee you chose to wear that night, thumbs stroking your skin softly.

You couldn’t hold the giggle, feeling giddy with his touch and the pet name slipping through his lips so easily.

“What’s so funny?” he smiled, looking at your face.

“How many shots did you have tonight?” you raised your eyebrows, your nails scratching the back of his head like you know he likes.

“A lot?” he told you shyly, making you laugh. “Why?”

“And who’s that girl you were talking to?”

“Oh, so that’s your nausea?” he grinned, tilting his head to the side. “You shouldn’t be worried, I told her I have a possessive and jealous best friend”

“Thanks” you tried to laugh, but the change in your expression was clear.

“No, what’s that face about? What did I said wrong?” Trent pouted, kissing your tummy over the fabric when you didn’t answer at first.

Knowing he had drinks enough, you sighed heavily. “Do you have any idea how it feels to see the guy you love flirting around with another girl?”

Trent’s eyes widened before he smirked, squeezing your waist.

“So you love me” he grinned, and you instantly started to walk backwards, cursing yourself.

“Of course, yeah” you coughed falsely. “You love me too, we’re best friends”

Trent got on his feet to follow you, and you cursed under your breath when your back hit the wall.

“No no, don’t run now” he cornered you, and you started to laugh even before he grabbed your waist.

The atmosphere was like the ones you were used to see in the movies. You yelped when he pulled you in his shoulder, his tipsy state making you both fall on the floor before he could make it to the bed.

You laughed so hard your belly started to hurt, and when he hugged you still laying on the floor you felt your body warming to his touch.

“I think I have an idea, actually. About how it feels” he murmured, your legs tangling together. “Not sure if you remember that pale and blonde man that looked like a ghost”

You laughed even harder at the mention of Liam, and Trent snorted before finally kissing you that night, a bit harsher and sloppier than how his kisses shared with you usually are.

Kissing him back, you giggled when he got on his feet and took you in his arms, tucking you in bed before getting back at kissing you.

You really thought things would change this time. That he was yours from now on.

Trying to fall asleep, the butterflies in your stomach made you company, and you couldn’t shut down properly due to the excitement, daydreaming about him.

It was only when the morning came and Trent asked you what had happened the last night, that you felt your heart sink, not even able to finish the breakfast you were sharing with him.

Since then, you started to decline every time he invited you to a party. Everything stayed normal when you met him during his matches or at his house, when you both decided to have dinner together or watch a movies.

In all those moments he was still only your best friend Trent, but you couldn’t face the other side anymore.

You couldn’t keep building hope and excitement only for his feelings to go away, like they were only part of the high of being drunk, so in order to protect your heart you’d only accept to see him in friendly circumstances.

It worked for a month and you were able to run from every party he mentioned, until you got the letter.

When you read it for the first time, it was hard to understand exactly what you were feeling.

You wanted this for years, and you worked hard to get it, but still… you used to think that the moment of reading your acceptance in the school you’ve always wanted only happened in movies.

Immediately telling your mother, the pair of you screamed excitedly, knowing for how long you worked for it.

After hugging her, you ran to your room and hit the button to call Trent, not pretty sure of what to say. He, more than anyone else, even your mum, knew how much you wanted this. He was there every step of the way, and you wanted to share the final one with him.

You soon found out you couldn’t tell him through the phone. When Trent asked you what was wrong, you only asked if he was free to have a coffee run with you.

Of course he agreed. Even if Trent was actually busy, as long as he wasn’t at training then he would drop everything to go and see you.

Your houses used to be in the same street, but as soon as he became a first team player he had to move, so you waited for him patiently at your front door.

“Good morning, sunshine” he smiled, waiting for you to get in. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I have my coffee” you rolled your eyes, leaning over the console and pecking his cheek. “How’s auntie Di?”

He giggled, starting to drive to your favourite place. The fact that he never needs to ask where to take you always makes you giddy.

“She’s good, but she can’t stop talking about Marcel giving her a grandchild” Trent snorted, making you laugh, but you know damn well that he’s just as excited with having a niece. “How’s your mum?”

“Asking about you as always” you giggled. “I told her the news and she said ‘wow! Trent already knows?’, can you believe it? No ‘congrats’ like normal parents do”

Trent laughed, soon parking next to the coffee shop and running to open the door for you, as always. Wrapping your arm around his, you both walked inside.

It was pretty common in your friendship to be touchy with each other, and Trent pulled you in front of him so he could hug you whilst ordering your coffees.

The cashier smiled softly and took your order before shyly asking for a picture, which he instantly agreed to. Even though his job is tiring and being stopped every time isn’t the nicest thing in the world, you never saw him being rude or awful to anyone.

Grabbing your order, he led you to your favourite booth seat since you like being able to sit next to each other. After a sip of your coffee, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I was accepted” you told him, giggling. “In Italy’s university”

Trent couldn’t held his jump, your face slowly going in the seat’s direction whilst you giggled and tried to straighten your body again

“I told you, Y/N!” he screamed, coming back to hug you. “You’re the smartest girl in Liverpool, of course they would want you to study with them. I’m so happy for you”

“Thank you” you giggled, knowing he wouldn’t stop talking about it for a while.

“When are you leaving? We need a farewell party” he poked your waist, the happiest smile on his face.

Your expression must have changed a bit, because he frowned at you. “Oh, I don’t know, Trent…”

He crossed his arms, and you knew he wouldn’t give up.

“C’mon, you’re going to another country! We won’t be able to see you for months” he insisted, and you hadn’t had the strength to say no to him.

So three days later you were at his house on a weekday, because Trent couldn’t during the weekend.

He made sure to make a pretty nice farewell party. Doing his best to invite only the people important to you, as he knows you don’t like the crowded parties he throws sometimes, and making a cute and aesthetic decoration for you.

A few members of your family had passed by earlier, but as soon as midnight came it was only the young adults, drinking and dancing.

Trent convinced you to have a few shots, and you didn’t want to disappoint him on your last party together. Since you knew you were safe with him and that you could go to his bed and sleep any time you wanted, you drank shot after shot.

You get drunk very easily, and that’s why you never drink when following Trent to one of his parties, so it wasn’t a surprise when your head started to spin and everything was suddenly too funny.

Dancing and chatting, you never left his side. Usually you prefer to hear him than to speak, but you couldn’t keep quiet and he was having fun with it.

When one of the boys called him, you nodded and let him go to check what it was. You took the time alone to observe the room, filled with people you grew up with, having fun, and the thought that you were about to leave all of this behind crossed your mind.

Trying to breathe and suddenly seeking for some silence, you went to the kitchen, thanking the universe when you saw it was empty.

As soon as you sat on the balcony your best friend entered the room, and the way his eyes lifted up made your tummy flutter.

“I was looking for you” he smiled, walking towards the balcony.

“Look no further” you smiled, hand already going to his hair as soon as he got closer.

He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp, sighing in content.

“I’ll miss you” Trent slurred, his hands instantly going to your waist. “You’ll miss me, right?”

“Of course I’ll miss you, Trentie” you smiled at him, already feeling your cheeks warming. “You’re my best friend”

“That’s all?” he asked, spreading your legs so he could fit between them. When you looked at him with a confused expression, his fingers squeezed your waist tighter. “That’s all I am?”

You felt all types of emotions running through your body, your mind instantly on alert. The subject caught you off guard since you didn’t see him drink all night, so you just frowned.

“I can’t answer you that” you murmured, your own dizzy mind not being that helpful.

Trent pouted, getting closer and licking his lips wet. You felt your stomach back flipping, a cold sensation washing over your body.

“But I want you to answer” he murmured, his face so close his lips were brushing yours.

Later you could choose to blame the alcohol, but it that moment you chose to lean forward and grab his neck, pulling him close enough to close your lips on his.

You needed a goodbye kiss like your lungs needed air.

Trent’s response wasn’t immediate and you started to think you got the message wrong. All those times he was the one to initiate the kiss, and that’s how you knew he was actually drunk.

You started to panic with the realisation that he might not be as drunk as you thought he was, but as soon as you motioned to pull away his hands quickly cupped your jaw and gently deepened the kiss, one of them slowly sliding to your neck.

Usually your kisses wouldn’t last that long, and you tried to resist when Trent slid his tongue over your lips — but you’re just a girl, after all.

Opening your mouth and letting your best friend take control, soon you had to hold on Trent’s shoulders so he wouldn’t lay you down on the counter.

It was the first time he kissed you with such energy, instead of the shy kisses you’d usually share, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering against his mouth.

“I’m gonna miss this too” he whispered against your lips, his erratic breath giving you a smug pride sensation.

“You won’t even remember this tomorrow, Trent” you tried not to sound too hurt, but your drunk state wasn't helping. “And it’s just a year, I’ll be right back”

“I’d miss you even if it was just a fucking week” he kissed you again, groaning against your lips. “You know I’d never, but I wish I was selfish enough to ask you to stay. You know you’re my favourite person in the world, right?”

You giggled at his silliness, tilting your head to the side.

“Tyler won’t like to know that, last week you said it was Aura-”

Trent cut you with another kiss, the hand on your neck trying to pull you even closer.

“Can I take you to my room?” he murmured after pulling away, and you instantly panicked.

“Oh- I- hm, I don’t think-” your mind went blank and you stuttered, thinking of how could you remind him — and yourself — that you are each other’s best friend.

“So we can cuddle” he cut you with a giggle, and you never felt more embarrassed. “Come here, legs around my waist”

You obeyed, yelping when he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer.

“Sooo scandalous” he teased, making your face feel even hotter. “I wonder if you’re like that in-”

“Shut up” you groaned, hiding your face in his neck and cursing yourself when Trent started to laugh.

Once in his room he offered you a t-shirt, and you thought that you’re probably the reason why he needs to buy new ones every month.

Tapping the bed so you would join him, Trent waited for you before covering you two.

“There’s something I need to tell you” he murmured, waiting for your eyes to meet his. “I know you’re leaving for a while, and this isn’t, in any way, an attempt to make you stay. I want you to go, because you want to go. I want you to be happy, to see the world, learn different languages and make new friends. I really do”

“But?” you encouraged him to keep going.

Trent isn’t the type of guy to speak about his feelings. You know he’s sensitive, emotional, caring and an empath, but he likes to keep all of this to himself.

Constantly hiding what he really feels behind jokes and silly comments, it’s hard to make him open up to you. He can talk for England when he’s comfortable, which means he’s always yapping around you, but rarely about deep and profound things.

You know that for him to speak about what he wanted and what he feels, his mind had probably reached an overwhelmed state.

He got closer to you, his legs intertwining with yours.

“I think I’m kinda afraid that you won’t need me once you see what the world has reserved for you” he admitted, playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing.

“I’ll always need you” you caressed his cheek, your eyes begging to be closed. “You know that”

“I really like you, Y/N. In a different way. And I get if it’s not what you want but from the way you kiss me I think it is and telling you this isn’t the easiest thing I’ve done in my life but you’re worth the fear and the uncomfortable feeling of speaking too much” he blurted out, his eyes avoiding yours.

You pecked his lips slowly and gently, letting it linger.

“I really like you too” you kissed him again, giggling. “I like you so much”

Trent smiled against your lips, circling your waist and bringing you closer. You got into a comfortable position, with half your body on top of his, and let your body relax.

For the first time, you were the one waking up with a huge headache and black spots in your memory. Trent was hugging your waist and even though it wasn’t unusual for you to be like that, you felt your heart twisting in your chest.

You’d miss this moments with him. A lot.

“I shouldn’t have let you convince me to drink” you groaned, making Trent giggle.

“I liked your drunk version. It’s a proper yapper”

“Why? What did I say?” you looked into his sparkly eyes. “Actually, what have I done? I can’t remember anything past the third shot, my head is burning”

You thought you had imagined the flash of pain in Trent’s eyes, the quick frown and confusion stamping his face for half a second before he smiled at you again.

“Such a lightweight girlie” he teased you, poking your waist. “There’s medicine and water next to you. Please, just don’t throw up on me”

You hadn’t realised you wanted to until he mentioned it, quickly getting on your feet and running to his ensuite.

Trent immediately followed you, crouching beside you and taking your hair out of your face. With a hand holding the hair, the other rubbed circles on your back, trying to soothe you.

“I’m sorry, pooks. I’ll never convince you to drink again” he murmured, guilty spreading through his body — over your sick state and the fact that you couldn’t remember last night.

“I appreciate it” you groaned, trying to take a deep breath. When he helped you to get on your feet and clean your face, Trent kissed your forehead.

“C’mon, we can spend the day recovering from it in the living room. A cosy afternoon with movies and snacks, uh?”

“Yeah, you owe me a last comfort day after this” you whined, tying up your hair.

The mention of it being a last moment suddenly hit you, and you looked at him with teary eyes and a fat pout.

“Don’t cry, your headache will get worse” Trent hugged you. “Shhh, if it’s the last one then let’s make it also the best one. No crying until you get on the plane”

You nodded against his chest, immediately groaning for moving your head too fast.

“First, you’ll take a shower whilst I get things ready” he spoke softly, his hands still caressing your back. “I’ll leave a shirt and a new pair of boxers on the bed”

“Ok” you mumbled, smiling when he kissed your head one more time and left the bathroom. After your shower, you wore the clothes he had left for you and tried your best to detangle your wet hair without a brush.

You should be used to feeling like an ogre every time you stayed over at his without all your stuff.

The room felt cold, and you grabbed the hoodie on his coat rack before walking to the living room, where Trent was putting a few blankets on the sofa.

“Feeling better?” he gave you a smile, tapping the sofa and waiting for you to sit. You nodded, getting comfortable and grabbing the bottle of water he offered you.

“Thank you, Trentie” you murmured, giving him a lazy smile and snuggling with him whilst he covered the pair of you.

That night, you watched various movies and ate some snacks together, always joking at something or debating about scenes.

You tried your best not to cry as he asked you to, but sometimes, looking at him when he started to laugh or throwing popcorn so he could catch it in his mouth, your eyes would tear up, missing your boy in advance.

When the last movie ended you were resting your body on his, head on his shoulder whilst Trent’s arm was around yours. He mentioned to get up, but you grabbed his t-shirt to catch his attention, and he understood as soon as he saw your eyes.

“I can hold you through it if you promise me you won’t feel guilty or sad about your decision once you leave”

Not trusting your voice, you only nodded and let him put you on his lap, laying your head on his shoulder. Trent hugged you tightly whilst you cried, grabbing his shirt on your fists.

You heard when Dianne entered the house and your best friend shook his head, telling her he got it. Losing track of time, you’re not sure how long you stayed there, pulling him closer like he was about to disappear — like he was the one leaving.

“I’m sorry” you croaked, pulling away.

His soft and empathetic smile made you tear up more, the pain in your chest something you never felt.

“Don’t be. Gotta live your dreams like I’m leaving mine, yeah? I’m not going anywhere and you’ll find me here when you need me”

“But I need you all the time” you whined. “I can’t choose my movies alone and I can’t remember the last time I had to buy a t-shirt, you’re better than me in the kitchen and the engine never dies with you”

“Anyone ever told you how much of a cry baby you are?” he smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. You could see water on his eyeline, but you knew better than to mention it.

“Yes, you” you rolled your eyes, making Trent laugh.

“Self pity time is over” he decreed, tapping your thigh. “I’ll drop you home and you’ll pack. I can’t make it to the airport though, I’ll travel to face Brighton”

You only nodded again, and Trent knows better than to force you to be like him, mascaring his pain with jokes. He kissed your head one more time and drove you home, letting you cry a bit more in the car.

Even though he was in another city when you went to the airport, he still made sure to say goodbye one more time, texting you sweet things.

After saying goodbye to your family and to Trent’s, hugging his mother and brothers before getting on your plane, you had to face what it was probably the scariest moment of your life.

Leaving everything you knew behind. The safety, the food you eat since a kid, the places you know how to get to, the country you know how to communicate in, how to walk around, what to do.

It was time to dive into the unknown, and even though you were afraid there was this voice in the back of your mind, making you go further — gotta love your dreams like I live mine.

So you placed your carry-on bag on the right compartment and took a deep breath, ready to live your dream.

—

You soon discovered that Italy was incredible, and Milan received you with open arms.

In only three months studying there, you met so many amazing people and places and day by day you felt a bit more at home.

Getting used to the streets, the food, the language, you felt the country slowly beginning to be a part of you.

On the other hand, you missed home. You couldn’t keep the promise he made you make, and some days all you could feel was guilt for choosing a life without him, your family and everything you love around.

Italy would be perfect — if they had a Trent. Which they don't.

They don’t have your best friend, who always shows up at your door on his day off to bring you coffee. The only person that would lay on your bed whilst you studied, take a nap even, only to spend some time with you.

When you think about it, Trent was the one who supported your decision most. Even more than your mother, being honest.

Of course she wanted you to be happy, but the fact that you would be happy 1285 km away from home worried her a lot, whilst Trent knew that you were about to find exactly what you���ve been wanting for years.

‘Italy is great, Y/N. You’ll love it’ he used to say, every single time you shared with him about giving up. ‘And they have the best gelato in the world’

Since you landed, you knew he was right. And that only made the decision of leaving him behind even harder.

You tried to facetime him every night to stay updated on his life and tell him about all the different things you were living, but as time passed your classes got more and more difficult, and you had to focus entirely.

This helped a bit with the sadness it filled your heart every time you thought about home, since you barely had time to miss anything or anyone, but soon Trent started to feel left aside.

You still watched his games every weekend, but every time he texted you about FaceTiming you had to decline, saying you were at the library or too busy with your notes.

Even though he understood that you were studying and that the life abroad must be really hard to cope with, he missed you and soon his grumpiness about the situation started to show up.

The last straw was when you couldn’t attend the only game you had promised you would. Everybody knew how important it would be for Trent to face United in the conditions they were in, and you really wanted to be there for him, but you needed to prioritise your exams week.

You explained to him that it would be really risky buying the tickets without knowing if you’d need to so a recuperative exam on Saturday, and Trent understood. He supported you through it, always asking how you were feeling and if the exams were really that hard, but you could feel the change in his humour.

By the end of the week, you had successfully finished the semester, and when your friends decided to go out Sunday afternoon you didn’t hesitated.

Theo, Paola and Veronica were also abroad students and you clicked with them immediately in the beginning of the course. They were your study group and the ones you’d get out with in a city you don’t have anyone else.

Having a brunch and a few drinks, it didn’t take long for you to return home, wanting to watch the game.

You took a shower and got into comfy clothes, selecting a few pictures of your afternoon and posting them on Instagram before getting in bed and turning the TV on.

Trent’s face on the line-up art was the last thing you saw before blacking out, a sleep deprived week taking its toll on you.

—

The first thing Trent did after changing and getting out of the stadium was trying to call you. When you didn’t answer, he sent you a text, and when this one was unanswered as well he gave up, snorting before checking his Instagram.

He wish he hadn’t, because the first post he saw made his tummy hurt, and soon he was grabbing a hoodie and leaving home, walking past a few houses before knocking at his friends’ door.

Saffie opened it for him, and he tried to smile.

“Curtis is back already?” was the first thing he asked, and she immediately knew something was bothering him.

“Yeah, he’s in the living room. Get in” she gave Trent space to enter and he waited for her to close the door, not wanting to be rude and run to Curtis.

“How are you doing, Saffie?” Trent asked, gesticulating to her belly.

He was, obviously, not the best with words and sentimental things.

“I’m good” Saffie smiled. “It’s still so early, but we’re excited. Curtis is really happy. I’m sorry by today’s results, by the way”

Trent smiled appreciatively and nodded, following her to the living room. When Curtis saw who it was at the door, he frowned.

“Wow! Who died?” he chuckled, getting on his feet and walking towards Trent.

“Curtis, don’t be rude” his girlfriend scoffed at him before leaving the pair of them so she could finish dinner.

“She was out today” Trent mumbled. “And she didn’t even answered my texts”

Jones instantly sighed, knowing damn well what Trent was talking about. Everybody in the club knew.

“Maybe she didn’t saw the result-”

“C’mon Curtis” Trent threw himself on the sofa. “It’s not about the result, she was supposed to be here and I was supposed to win this one for her. I thought she would at least watch the game. But instead we had an ugly draw and she is out with some ugly Italian”

Even though you posted the picture before the kickoff time, the only explanation for your lack of response was that you were still with the guy. An ugly one, according to Trent’s standards,

“Oh, I see” Curtis giggled. “You’re jealous”

“What? I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous? I’m the best friend. She calls me every night, her family loves me, she knows me more than anyone and she tells me everything whilst this guy doesn’t even know her favourite colour”

“Which is…” Curtis raised an eyebrow, but Trent only rolled his eyes before answering.

“Red, of course. And golden” he mumbled, fidgeting with his shirt.

Curtis sighed, walking towards Trent and tapping his head affectionately.

“And she told you about him?”

“She said she had made some friends, he might be one of them” Trent shrugged, taking his phone out of his pocket and searching for your post, showing it to Curtis.

“Doesn’t look like a friendly night out” Curtis teased him. Of course it did, with your two friends together, but he always liked to pour salt in Trent’s wounds. They grew up doing that to each other.

“It might be not totally friendly but it’s not a date either. If it was a date she’d be wearing a dress. She has a special dress for date nights”

“And you know that because…”

Trent smirked, feeling a bit more secure of himself.

“I helped her to choose it. Told you Curtis, there’s no reason to be jealous. The guy can try but he’s not me”

“Well, at least he has the courage to call her out” Curtis chuckled, running out of the living room before Trent could shoot him with his cold eyes. “Come have dinner with us, cry baby. Saffie made baked potatoes”

Trent lazily got up from the sofa, walking to the kitchen, and the place smelled really good.

“Aw, the baby wanted potatoes?” he teased.

Curtis laughed, but shook his head.

“Oh no, she doesn’t have cravings yet”

Trent passed through him, slapping the back of his head and entering the kitchen.

“I know, you are the baby in question” he giggled, smiling when Saffie burst into laughter.

—

When you woke up, the first thing you saw was the uncountable number of missed calls from Trent, guilty instantly spreading over your chest.

It was easy to unblock your phone and see the Liverpool widget telling you the last game’s result. 2-2, a draw that you were sure it felt like a loss for him.

Quickly clicking Trent’s contact to call him, you got up.

“Trentie?” you asked when a groan sounded on the other side, beating yourself when you remembered he was a year behind it was probably too early for him. “I’m so so so sorry. How are you feeling?”

“Mhm” he mumbled, making you sigh. “Sorry, I just feel awful, there’s not much to say”

“It wasn’t your fault. I know it was an important game but there’s still time, don’t be too hard on yourself. You can focus on helping the team in the next game, yeah?”

“I can’t” he snorted. “Hamstring again”

You felt your heart drop. It was his first injury since you left, and if you already used to feel helpless when next to him, the feeling only got worse being so far away.

“I’m so sorry, Trent. They told you how many weeks?”

The silence showed you that he was still trying to cope with it, and you felt even sadder.

“Not yet” he mumbled.

You thought about how to make him feel better, wanting nothing more than to comfort your best friend.

“You could… like” you stuttered, not knowing if it was the right time. “I’m not sure, I thought you could come here. For a few days, but now that I said it I’m thinking you probably need to take care of your injury and you can’t have mini vacations just because you’re hurt”

It took him a couple of minutes to answer, and you could even imagine his mind working whilst biting his lower lip.

“Liverpool plays against Atalanta this Thursday” Trent murmured. “Google says it’s forty minutes away from you. I think I could go with the team on Wednesday and stay until Friday morning. I’m already having physio sessions so I’d just be two days without it”

“Are you sure?” you bit your lower lip, the bubble of excitement growing in your stomach.

“I mean… I should rest, but I really need to see you” he murmured, and your heart ached. When in England, you were the one Trent always ran to when he got this type of news.

Finding comfort in your hugs, a cuddle session, some ice cream and scalp scratches. You know that the same way he’s yours, you’re his safe person.

“I’ll be waiting for you then. I can pick you up in Bergamo”

“Deal” he yawned, and the sound made you smile. “Now, if you let me…”

You laughed, nodding even though he couldn’t see

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, go back to your sleep”

“I love you” he murmured after another yawn, warming your heart.

“I love you too. Sweet dreams, mwah” you sent him a kiss before turning the call off and get ready to start your day.

—

The start of the week quickly passed through you. The classes were fun and you had coffee dates for study with the girls, even though you couldn’t keep your eyes off of your phone, tacking every minute.

Every minute until you could see Trent after months apart.

During Monday and Tuesday, your mind often got lost in thoughts. You wondered if it would be weird at first, if you both had already forgotten how to be around each other.

The idea made you nervous. Like it was years apart from him, instead of only six months.

By Wednesday morning you had already convinced yourself that Trent would hate everything about Italy and this new version of you. That you’d both discover you don’t understand each other anymore and that the friendship of twenty years had come to and end because of your choice of moving away.

Trying to survive during the day was the hardest. You went to your class and tried to ease your feelings with your favourite coffee, but soon it was time to make the drive to Bergamo so you could be there once they landed.

The forty minutes in your car with your favourite playlist eased your feelings a bit, and soon you were in the airport’s parking lot.

Biting your lips furiously, you started to bounce your leg as the minutes seemed to stop passing. The turmoil in your head coming back even stronger and getting the best of you as fear won over excitement.

When a light knock on your window woke you up from your trance, you slightly jumped before meeting your favourite pair of eyes.

Trent tilted his head to the side and smiled at you, waiting for you to open the door. With your hands slightly shaking, you pushed it a bit and stood there, looking at him as if you were trying to confirm if he was real.

“Forgot how to hug me or something?” he raised his eyebrows, and you realised how you’ve missed even his annoying teasing tone.

“Maybe” you croaked, your eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Hey no, what’s wrong?” he left his bag on the floor, quickly leaning to hug you as best as he could with the space he was given.

You took a deep breath, inhaling Trent’s scent and finally giving your body permission to relax.

“I’ve just missed you” you murmured, your lips brushing against the crook of his neck. His arms around you dissolved the tension and the worries you’ve been feeling since leaving home, making you feel silly.

Trent and you could never not like each other anymore. You would always understand him, and he would always be there for you.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. But I’m here” he kissed the top of your head, arms tightening around your shoulders. “I’m here”

You took a deep breath, pulling away from his hug just in time to see the team waking to their van, smiling at them.

“Take care of my boy, Y/N” Virgil shouted, giggling and waving at you. Trent gave him his middle finger, hugging you again.

Laughing, you waved back to them before telling Trent to get in. When you finally got home, you helped him to take his bag inside, leaving it in the living room before throwing yourself on your sofa.

“Come here, I think we need a healing cuddle” you called him, lying down and opening your arms.

Trent giggled and walked towards you, carefully lying his body on top of yours.

“I missed this so much” Trent groaned, snuggling further into you. “Tyler wouldn’t let me cuddle with him after a bad game”

“That’s why I’m your best friend, not him” you giggled, brushing your fingers over his forehead. “How’s everything at the club?”

“I don’t know how to explain that it feels like we’re falling apart at the same time that we’re reinventing ourselves” he murmured, his pout making you smile.

“Changes are difficult. The transition, when you’re not sure about the future. When everything feels scary and uncertain. But once it happens, you’ll feel the hope of better days and the eager to live these days”

Trent hummed, nodding before staying silent again. After a few minutes, you checked only to see him peacefully sleeping with his mouth slightly open.

Letting him rest, you kept looking at his features. Tracing his lips and his nose, going to his eyebrows and brushing his cheeks.

“My skincare is giving results?” he spoke suddenly, scaring you and giggling at your heart beats getting higher. “Strong heart, you have”

“Which skincare you’ve been doing?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I call it ‘using all the products my best friend left behind’, and I think it’s working” he giggled, making you slap his head slightly. “I’ll buy you new ones, I swear”

“I hope so” you rolled your eyes playfully. “C’mon, let’s get into bed before we end up staying the whole night on the sofa”

“Wow Y/N, you say this to every man who comes here?” he teased you, but you only rolled your eyes again.

“No one comes here, Trent. That’s what you wanna know?” you poked his cheek.

“That’s exactly what I wanna know, thank you” he kissed your chin before getting on his feet and helping you.

You asked if he wanted to eat something before taking a nap, but Trent only said he’d rather have dinner later, which would be a good option if any of you had actually woken up for dinner.

—

“You’re sure you wanna lose class to watch the game?” he whined the next morning.

The pair of you ended up sleeping through the whole night, only waking up when your alarm went off.

You had given him breakfast and he took a shower before you told him you wanted to watch the game, having bought the tickets when he said he’d be going.

“Trent, I haven't seen my club for months now. Plus, with you I have special treatment” you smirked, laughing when he rolled his eyes. “We still can go out tonight, I’m sure there’s nice places around Bergamo”

“Fine, let’s go then” he groaned, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle with you all day instead of facing a game he wouldn’t be able to play in.

But Trent would accept anything that could make you happier, so he grabbed his coat and followed you outside. You decided to leave home early so you both wouldn’t need to rush, respecting his injury.

The drive was filled with Trent’s laugh at every embarrassed moment you told him about, letting him know that the first months trying to speak in Italian had made you dirty a lot.

When you finally parked at Atalanta’s stadium, he sighed and opened the door, but you grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

“You’re here as a fan. Let’s not stress” you smiled, but the small nod he gave you made you sigh. “Trent…”

“I’m good. Honestly, let’s not pay attention to me, we’re here so you can see your favourite boys” he opened the car’s door.

You sighed, looking at him. “You are my favourite boy”

“A broken one” he rolled his eyes, quickly getting out of the car and shutting the door. You didn’t move, knowing he’d want to open your door for you and not wanting him to force his leg trying to get there faster.

Once he opened it, you got on your feet and waited for him to close it before circling his torso and laying your head in his shoulder. It took a while for him to relax in your arms, resting his face on top of yours.

“I love you” you whispered, feeling guilty for dragging him with you. “You could’ve told me you really didn’t want to come”

“I will always do anything you ask me for” Trent shrugged, and you knew it was true.

“You don’t have to if this won’t make you happy as well” you pulled away, cupping his chin. “What doesn’t make you happy also doesn’t make me happy. Got it?”

“Yeah” he nodded, rolling his eyes playfully. “But we’re already here, so move your fat ass and get inside”

You chuckled, always amazed with how he’d always brush the hard times with a joke.

The game was a true nightmare, and you could see Trent squirming on the seat next to yours. He wanted to be there and make a difference, and the fact he couldn’t hurt him a lot.

“We don’t need to wait for the game to end” you squeezed his knee, feeling bad for putting him there when the relief flooded his expression.

Soon you were in the stadium’s parking lot. A few football fans tried to stop him for pictures and you could see it hurt him to say no, so you started to dismiss them for him.

Choosing to drive to a bar you liked when you visited Bergamo, you order for you and for Trent before sitting in a booth.

“Feeling better?” you smiled at him. Trent nodded, and you caressed his chin.

“I’m sorry for ruining the game” he sighed.

“Well, if someone ruined the game it was definitely not you” you joked. “Don’t feel sorry for being unhappy or uncomfortable with something, Trent. You don’t need to be funny all the time for me to like you, and you should know that by now”

“Y/N?” a male voice interrupted you. When you looked up, your colleague from university smiled at you.

“Theo! Hi, what are you doing here?” you greeted him excitedly. “This is Trent, he’s visiting from England. Trent, this is Theo. He’s my classmate”

You weren’t expecting to see any of your friends out since you and Trent were a bit far away, but it was nice to show a part of your new life to your best friend.

“Oh, aren’t you the-” Theo pointed at him, frowning.

“Yeah” Trent didn’t try to be gentle or decent, but you didn’t judge him since you knew his current situation.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it today, Theo” you explained.

“Of course” your colleague looked at Trent and then at the TV in one of the walls. “I’m in the way of something?”

“Yes-” Trent snorted, but you unintentionally cut him.

“You can sit with us if you want” you smiled. Theo chose to sit on your other side of the booth, and you stayed in the middle of the two man like a salami in a sandwich.

It was all over Trent’s face that he didn’t like having to share his best friend when he had so little time together with you, but you only squeezed his hand.

Holding your hand on his lap the entire time, Trent even tried to be socially decent sometimes, but you knew him good enough. Talking with strangers wasn’t his cup of tea, and he’d rather stay home and not talk with anyone at all. Anyone besides you.

As time passed by, it got really late. Since you and Trent had agreed that he’d stay in Bergamo he refused to let you go back home alone in the night.

After saying goodbye to Theo, the pair of you found a hotel to spend the night in so you could drive home safely in the morning.

You thought you could have a funny night together and ask something in the room service, but as soon as you got inside and took off your jacket and shoes Trent turned to face you.

“I didn’t like the way he’s with you” he rolled his eyes. “He looks clingy”

You frowned at him, throwing your bag in the corner. Trent can be a bit possessive over the people he cares about, so you weren’t actually surprised.

“You don’t even know him, Trent”

“Well, I don’t care. I don’t like him. The way he kept staring at me and trying to get closer to you like he thought it was some kind of competition or what? If you want the girl it sounds stupid trying to fight her best friend”

You turned to face him, surprised to find his eyebrows together and his lips in a firm line.

“He doesn’t know you’re my best friend” you shrugged.

“Oh, no?” Trent raised his eyebrows, and you could tell that the fact you weren’t making clear to someone that you had a best friend hurt him a bit. But more than that, he looked annoyed. “I wonder how you would’ve felt if it was the opposite”

You chuckled, not understanding his point. “What do you mean?”

“If a girl was hitting on me and I never told her about my best friend” he crossed his arms. “If I never made it clear I have a close and deep connection with another girl”

You rolled your eyes, still not understanding where he was trying to get, and your action made him huff.

“Plenty of girls hit on you all the time” you told him, unbothered.

“And I always make sure they know about you” he pointed out.

“So what?” you shrugged. “I didn’t tell him, I’m sorry”

“You didn’t tell him because you’re starting to forget about me” Trent finally snapped. “You think I didn’t notice how you barely have time to call me or to even text me about your day? You couldn’t make it to the game and I get it but I thought you would at least watch it instead of going out for some kisses”

He gave you a sharp look, and it bothered you. It bothered you that he thought you needed to tell a guy you had a intimate friendship with him only ecause he hoped this would keep them away, whilst you had to sit in Italy and read the multiple articles about his different ‘things’ during the last months.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Trent” you got in the defensive mode, even more annoyed that he thought you missed the game because you were with Theo when you were actually forced to rest by your own body.

“Never said it does. But I can’t be upset? I can’t be upset you didn’t even mention me to him?” he raised his hands in the air, starting to gesticulate. “I mention you to every girl I hang out with because I need them to like you, Y/N. If I’m dating someone, I need them to know you were there first. And if they have any problem with you, then I need to know from the beginning so I won’t find myself in love with someone that wants you out of my life. Not that the decision would be hard to take, but it would hurt a lot to break up with someone I’m already used to”

“Theo would never ask me to get away from my best friend” you defended your colleague only by the need to refute Trent. In reality, you don't know how he’d act.

And you don't want to know, because you never saw him as nothing more than a colleague. No one could make you choose between them or Trent.

“Of course he wouldn’t” Trent screamed, and you were taken aback. “He doesn’t even know you have one”

You never heard him screamc not with you, not with anyone around him. It didn’t scare you. Instead, the urgency to understand his feelings for once got the best of you.

“Why the hell are you so fucking angry?” you sighed, lowering your voice.

Trent didn’t look you in the eyes, turning his back to you when he spoke on one go without even pausing to breathe.

“That city doesn’t even feel like home when you’re not there and I’ve been waiting for you to come back so I can be whole again whilst you’re here kissing a fucking Italian that doesn’t even know I exist because you didn’t think I was important enough to be mentioned” he’s voice was low, and despite the meaning of what he was saying was important, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“He’s German, Trent”

Your best friend turned to face you, and you knew you hurt him by not acknowledging his confession. In the end, that’s why he always choose to keep his sentimental words to himself.

“I don’t fucking care, he can go to hell” he muttered under his breath. You knew that he was showing you a vulnerable side of him, and you could stop the fight whenever you wanted to.

Instead, you chose that moment to say what you’ve been carrying with you for a while.

“At least when he tries to hit on me he doesn’t forget about it the next morning” you murmured back. “And he definitely doesn't want me only when he’s drunk”

Trent was close enough to grab your wrist and pull you against him, making you gasp surprisedly.

“I want you all the time. I might have had a few drinks tonight, Y/N, and I might have made you believe I was heavily drunk every time I wanted to kiss you, but I still want you when I’m sober, and I’m sober enough to know what I’m talking about” he murmured. “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t forget about this one”

You didn’t see the kiss coming. Trent kissed you harshly, his hands cupping your face like he was afraid you would run away from him, his grip tight on your waist instead of cupping your face softly like he always did.

It all escalated too fast with the pair of you desperate and carried away by the intensity of your argument, and it didn’t take long for you to be laid in bed with him on top of you.

You took off his white t-shirt, throwing it across the room before getting back at kissing him.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, distributing kisses alongside your neck and you nodded.

Trent stopped his kisses to grab your chin between his fingers, forcing you to stare into his eyes. “Words”

“I think you should ask this for yourself, Trent” you smiled ironically, making him chuckle.

“Never thought you could be such a fucking brat. Just answer me” he tightened his grip.

You took a while to observe his eyes, his breath, the way his lips were curved on a teasing smile.

“I am pretty sure”

He was quickly to slide your panties down your legs after your verbal consent, getting comfortable between your legs.

Before you used to think that it would at least feel weird, doing this with him. But the truth is that you were so attracted to Trent that this thought didn’t even cross your mind at that moment.

Gently working you up, Trent teased you for a while before inserting his finger. Respecting your time and always asking if you were good, he inserted a second making you squirm.

“Relax f’me, princess” he murmured against your temple, and you shivered at the pet name. “So deliciously tight, uh?”

When his fingers didn’t feel like intruders anymore Trent scissored you, smiling to the contorted expression on your face. He kept the pace torturously slow, building your pleasure.

The first moan that slipped your mouth made Trent’s mind go blank. The way his dick pulsated inside his boxers, the goosebump travelling down his back, the way he felt his own moan almost falling from his lips.

A second later, he wanted to make you do it again.

“Does he make you feel like that?” Trent murmured against your ear, only making your situation worse whilst his fingers reached deep and his thumb caressed your clit. “Do any of them?”

“Trent-” you whined, feeling empty when he removed his fingers and adjusted himself, going down until his face was between your legs.

“So fucking wet. What do you need, baby? Tell me want do you want from me”

“Everything” you were able to whisper, closing your eyes when he kissed your clit, brushing his lips against you.

“You look good enough to eat” Trent brushed his nose between your folds, making you gasp. “And I’m so fucking starved”

When he closed his lips on your clit, you closed your eyes, throwing your head back and letting it fall down on the pillow.

Trent felt goosebumps when you whined for him and his tongue kept exploring you, savouring every part of the new found paradise, coming back to tease your clit and casually sliding deeper every time.

You cried out, your moans getting whinier by every second, and soon found out that your moans were now his favourite sound, trying harder every time to make you whine and beg louder than before.

Trent couldn’t hold his own hips at the sound of you so desperate underneath him, pressing them down so the friction against the bed would help him ease the pain.

He used his hand to pull his dick out of his boxers before inserting his fingers in you again, pumping them faster whilst his lips would suck your clit precisely and the pleasure was too good to be true.

You could feel your body hot everywhere, the pressure on your stomach and the warmth on your pussy driving you crazy.

“God, Trent” you whined, scratching the back of his neck, rolling your hips when you felt his smile against you.

He pulled his face away, his fingers never stopping whilst he grind his hips on the silky bed sheets, groaning at the sensation and looking at you with swollen lips and bright eyes,

“C’mon, be good and cum for me” he whispered, kissing your tummy before placing his mouth back at where you needed him. Gripping on his shoulder and sinking your nails in his skin, you let your high reach you.

When you tugged your fingers on his hair, pressing his face further whilst he guided you through your orgasm, he shamelessly came on his boxers, moaning loudly against you.

Recovering from his high, Trent laid beside you and brought you closer to lay your head on his chest, a hand around your shoulder whilst he took deep breaths.

The pair of you spent a few minutes like this, in silence. He looked at the ceiling, thinking of what had just happened meant for your friendship.

The fact that he would be going back to England by the morning and leaving you behind suddenly hit him, and he could swear he was about to have a panic attack.

“I can’t do this” Trent whispered, and your breath instantly hitched in your throat, your heart twisting in your chest.

Your cheeks were burning and you could feel the humiliation sinking in, and you wondered if you could get your clothes and lock yourself in the bathroom before collapsing.

“We shouldn’t have done this” he said again, and the pain you felt on your chest was becoming unbearable.

“I heard you the first time” you muttered, quickly getting on your feet and starting to look for your things.

“I’m coming back to England and you’re staying here…” he closed his eyes, cursing himself for letting you both get so carried away.

“I got it, Trent” you raised your voice a bit, and he finally looked at you. “We shouldn’t have done this. You wish we hadn’t”

“I didn’t say that” he immediately said, taken aback by the change in your tone.

You quickly wore your skirt, unsuccessfully trying to find the corset. Groaning, you took the shirt you had just taken off of him and wore it, looking for your purse whilst he sat on the bed, his hand supporting his weight.

“What are you doing?” Trent frowned, hopelessly watching you walking around the room.

“Going home. I have classes tomorrow morning” you mumbled, not trusting yourself to stay there any more. “I’ll return the shirt later”

He looked at you, the messy and loose hair. Trent wanted you to come back to bed and sleep, but your behaviour confused him.

“We’re in the middle of the night you can’t drive alone-”

“I can’t stay here, Trent” you cut him and stopped by the door, the urgency in your voice making him flinch.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, not even looking at you. His head was spinning and he couldn’t properly understand what was happening.

You looked at him one last time, his bare torso, the strong arms supporting his weight, the marked jaw.

“I’m sorry too. For believing when you said you wanted this and letting you go on” you muttered before leaving.

Trent’s mouth opened in surprise, his dizzy mind trying to fight the slowness he’d always get in after his orgasm, but you quickly left the room and he knew it was too late.

—

After reading Trent’s message before turning on the engine, you drove the forty minutes home trying your best not to cry, focused on the street.

The playlist making you company was constantly playing sad love songs, and you couldn’t stop repeating the whole night in your head.

As soon as you got home, you immediately headed to the bathroom, seeking some comfort and wanting to wash the evidence of what just happened.

Running a bath in the middle of the night was unusual for you, but you didn’t want a rushed shower. You needed to relax, so you waited for it to fill with hot water and took your clothes off, carefully entering the bath.

The water’s temperature embraced your body, and you sighed deeply.

You didn’t hear from him anymore that day and you were sure he was trying to respect your space, but for some reason that was not what you wanted.

What you really wanted was for him to call you. To try to fix this, somehow. To tell you that it was ok that you both got into this situation because that was all he ever wanted, just like you.

Now, you don’t even know if all those things he said before going to bed with you were real.

When the water got cold you decided that the best would be to get in bed, quickly drying yourself and looking for a pyjama. Not being able to find one in the middle of the night and too tired to keep searching, you reluctantly wore the hoodie Trent left at yours before you headed to the game, his smell immediately engulfing you.

Laying in bed and getting comfortable beneath the sheets, you allowed your body to feel what it needed to, and it wasn’t long until strong sobs were shaking your body.

You couldn’t lose Trent. But at the same time, you had no idea how you’d be capable of looking at him and chatting with him without letting your feelings get the best of you.

You knew it was unfair to ignore his messages without an explanation, so you quickly typed one, which Trent was quick to answer.

Sighing, you locked your phone and tried to sleep, the uncertainty about your friendship’s future consuming you through the night.

—

A month without Trent was the worst thing you had to go through in a while. Before everything, he is your best friend.

The guy who’ll hear anything you have to say, that’ll spend hours on the phone, that’ll bring you something cute because it reminded him of you.

The silly, caring and funny Trent. The other half of you.

You had already decided you wouldn’t go to England during your break, your feelings too messy to be deal with right now, when your mother told you that the whole family was invited for Klopp’s last game.

‘I respect your decision of not coming home during your weeks off, but he really needs you. I’m just checking if you’re totally sure about it’

You thought that the worst you’ve felt during your friendship with Trent was the last time you saw him, but hearing your mother telling you how he begged her to allow him to stay in your room for a while, where she heard him crying for hours, completely broke you.

So without even blinking you immediately bought the plane ticket after the call, and started to pack up your essentials. You knew that in the end two weeks could reveal to be too much, but you chose to risk it.

Whilst you picked up your favourite outfits, you analysed the situation. Of course a friendship so long like yours would face a harrowing moment at some point.

After that night, you were sure your feelings were real, but you couldn’t blame Trent for trying to understand — and in the end, feeling different than you.

You know you want him close. You need your best friend around, and you need things to be ok between you two.

Even if for that to happen you must bury your romantic feelings for him, pretending like you never felt them.

Landing in Liverpool the day of the game, you were happy to see your father in the airport, giving him a tight hug.

He drove you directly to Anfield, and you were able to enter the family box during the warm up. Not wanting your best friend to spot you with his family and get distracted, you stayed in the box d most of the time.

Even when you went to the stands, you made sure to stay away from everyone he knew and would look for. During Klopp’s farewell, you allowed yourself to get closer to his brothers, knowing that he would be too focused on the boss.

The goodbye was painful to you. Being a Liverpool fan your whole life, you and Trent spent all these years with Jürgen, and whilst the tears felt down your cheeks without any sign of stopping soon your only thought was how hurt your boy was feeling on the pitch.

Your question was answered when a footage of Trent with teary eyes showed up on the stadium screens, making you choke on your own saliva.

Not having the strength to be a part of the lap of honour, you waited with your mum and dad whilst Trent’s family went to the pitch to celebrate the end of the season, and watching him playing with Aura and feeling so happy with his loved ones around him settled your heart.

You smiled down at your phone, sitting on the box sofa and chatting with your father. When Tyler came running and hugged you, you started to laugh, knowing he was trying to piss Trent off.

When your best friend showed up at the door, you smiled softly at him.

“Y/N?” Trent gasped, not expecting to see you there. His wet and puffy eyes made your heart twist, and without thinking of anything else you opened your arms to him.

He threw himself at you, pushing Tyler away, and his strong arms hugged your torso tightly. Holding his shoulders just as tight, you sighed in his embrace.

You watched both of your families leave the room, more to give Trent privacy after what he just had gone through, and you hugged him even tighter.

“Oh, pookie. I’m so sorry you’re going through this” you scratched his scalp, and Trent relaxed against your body.

When he didn’t answer you thought he simply didn’t know what to say, but after a few seconds you realised Trent was slightly shaking, and soon you could hear the strong sobs washing over him.

You let him cry, a hand rubbing circles on his lower back whilst the other kept scratching his scalp until he was able to calm down, fifteen minutes later.

“Baby, hey” you tried to pull away so you could look at him, but he only clung to you tighter, decided not to let you see his face. “Look at me, Alexander”

“So you can see how weak I am?” his croaked voice cut you deeply.

“Trent. Look at me” you firmly asked, finally being able to cup his face in your hands when he pulled his head out of your neck. “Being emotional and sensitive about something isn’t being weak”

His teary eyes looked back at yours, the sight of the trail of tears making your heart drop.

“I had lots of weeks to prepare for this” his hoarse voice made you pout, stroking his chin.

“Doesn’t matter” you brushed his tears out of his face. “You’re allowed to cry when you lose something important. We all know you’re tough and strong, and crying sometimes won’t change that”

“Thank you” he sniffed, still holding you close to him. “I don’t deserve you”

“Don’t be silly. Took you twenty years to realise that?”

You tried to make him giggle, but Trent only shook his head.

“No. I’ve always known” he looked you in the eyes, so intense that you felt like he was seeing you naked again.

When Dianne opened the door to check on you, you cleared your throat.

“I’ll go home, spend some time with mom. But I see you later, yeah?” you smiled, and Trent only nodded, reluctantly letting go of you.

“I was just thinking-” he stuttered, and you stroked his chin.

“It’s okay, Trentie. Don’t worry” you reassured him. Your best friend looked at you with a lost expression and you tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “I won’t lose you because we made a mistake, it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Just me and you again”

Even though you didn’t want it to be like it never happened, you knew it was necessary for your friendship to survive. Not acknowledging that you had sex with your childhood best friend would make him stay as your childhood best friend.

“How many days are you staying?”

“Two weeks. I won’t run from you, Trent” you giggled, but the insecurity in his eyes made you stop. He could be feeling it in a different way, but it was clear that what happened affected him too. “I’ll stop by your house Wednesday, alright?”

When Dianne asked him if he was leaving with them, he quickly nodded and kissed your forehead.

“See ya then” he murmured, leaving you alone with your thoughts and that weird feeling in your stomach.

—

The few days with your family were much needed. You were excited to tell them about the things you hadn’t had the time to say on the phone yet, and your mother wanted to know everything.

If you were seeing someone, how’s the college, your favourite italian meals. Everything. Your mother wanted to know all the details, while dad was focused on hugging you like you could disappear.

In three nights straight, you all had dinner together before grabbing sweet treats for a sleepover in the living room, watching movies together and sleeping with your parents like you were eight years old. It was the best three nights you had for a while.

On Wednesday morning you woke up lazily, trying to kill time so it would take you longer to see Trent.

When your mother knocked on the door to call you for breakfast, you groaned for her to enter the room.

“I want to talk about something…” you murmured as soon as it was just you and her, and she smiled whilst sitting on the bed.

“Of course, my sweet girl. We can talk about anything”

You took a deep breath and changed to a sitting position, avoiding her eyes to muster up the courage and only looking at her when you felt ready to talk.

“Do you remember when Trent visited me last month?”

Your eyes full of tears explained everything she needed to know.

“Oh, Y/N…” she quickly embraced you in her arms. “Have you guys kissed?”

“I wish” you let your tears fall, not having the strength to hold it and wanting your mother to comfort you. “It was so much worse”

So you told her everything. From the silly and drunk kisses you both would share every party to him saying you shouldn’t have gone too far. The month without talking to them and having to pretend nothing happened for the sake of your friendship.

When she was about to answer you, someone knocked on the bedroom’s door.

“Uhm” your father cleared his throat whilst already entering the room, scaring you and your mother. “Excuse me”

“Were you hearing behind the door?” you looked at him with a shocked expression, immediately feeling shy.

“I’m sorry” he gave you an apologetic smile. “But if you allow me to stick my nose on your business for a bit, I have some opinions about that”

“Dad…” you felt ashamed. The last thing you wanted was your father talking about your sex life, even though he had always been chill about the subject.

“Y/N, I know you’re not my little girl anymore. That’s ok, we did our best to raise you for these moments, to the world. But I can’t hear all that you said and stay quiet. All I have to say is, don’t be unfair to Trent”

“What do you mean?” you frowned, wiping the tears from your face.

“That as much as you’re afraid of losing your best friend, he might be too. That what you thought was rejection could be simply fear” your father sat on the bed beside you, hugging you closer.

“Why would you think that when he clearly said he couldn’t do this?” you rested your head on his shoulder.

“It was how we started” your mother shyly answered. “We were best friends and one night, there was this party… we had too many drinks and it happened”

You never knew that. Actually, the only thing your parents told you about how they met was that your mother has been hard to conquer, and you also never asked about it. You always thought that they’d tell you in their own time.

“The next morning your mother woke up terrified and told me we shouldn’t have done that. I remember that she was picking up her clothes from the floor and saying that we crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed” he chuckled. “We were scared, you know? I was scared that she didn’t like me that way and that’s why she ran, when actually she ran because she thought I slept with her just because I got carried away”

“But-” you tried to argue, but your father cut you.

“If we haven’t talked later and opened up, besides not being a couple today I’m pretty sure the friendship wouldn’t have survived. Look how funny, we were running away from our feelings so we wouldn’t ruin what we had, but running can be exactly the reason for you both to fall apart”

“I don’t know” you sighed, and your mother’s hand immediately started to rub your back.

“You don’t need to talk about that right now, Y/N” she comforted you. “Do it in your own time, but if we can give you any advice, it is for you to do it before going back to Italy. Distance is cruel, and paired with miscommunication can cause irreparable damage”

You stayed in silence for a few minutes, letting the new informations sink in.

“I’ll think… I’ll think about it” you nodded, cleaning your face again. “Gotta face him now tho, so if you excuse me”

Your parents giggled, and gave them a hug before getting in the shower to quickly get ready, suddenly wanting to be there soon.

Wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you tied your hair in a ponytail before applying sunscreen, and borrowed your father’s car.

After the quick ride, you nervously rang Trent’s doorbell, and Marcel excitedly opened it to you.

“Y/N!” he screamed, and with all the fear and nerves directed to Trent you ended up forgetting that his family also hadn’t seen you for six months, and you couldn’t talk much during the match. “You’re taller?”

“Oh, shut up Marcel. You don’t need to remind me that you’re like the Eiffel tower” you giggled, hugging him tight.

“Why did you scream Y/N’s name?” Trent showed up at the door, wearing only his sleep shorts. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but you still felt your cheeks getting hot at the sight of him.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you like you were a ghost.

“Hi?” you giggled, finding it amusing how he blinked his eyes slowly.

“Oh” his smile grew wilder, and he soon was pushing Marcel to the side so he could give you a hug.

“That’s not fair, you’re not the only one that missed her” Marcel complained, but Trent was pretty good at ignoring the youngest.

“Let him be, Marcel. You know he’s a bit possessive” you could hear Dianne’s voice.

“The thing is that he’s not, mum. That’s the Y/N effect” Marcel complained, following his mother to the kitchen.

Trent engulfed you in his arms, and it was like the world didn’t exist anymore. You couldn’t hear his family nor the cars on the street. The only thing your ears could focus on was his steady heartbeat.

“As much as I love your hugs, I’m freezing” you giggled, but Trent only inverted your bodies so now you were inside the house. “And I don’t want you naked on the street, you’ll get sick”

“I’ll get sick or you’re being jealous?” he giggled, closing the door without breaking the hug. “I missed you”

“I missed you too” you ignored the first part, laughing when he started to walk while still hugging you.

“She won’t disappear if you let her go” Michael teased him from up the stairs.

“Hi uncle Mike” you yelped when Trent took you off the ground and walked into the living room.

“Hi Y/N, don’t let the boys bother you too much” he smiled whilst crossing the room and blowing you a kiss. “Stay for dinner so we can talk, I’ll be right back”

You nodded awkwardly since Trent was on top of you, your body pressed against the sofa whilst he snuggled you.

“I missed you” he murmured, and you felt warm inside. No matter what you say to yourself, having Trent’s attention would always make you giddy and soft. “I missed you so much”

“Missed you too buddy, but you’ll crush my bones” you giggled when he finally pulled away so you could breathe.

“You know what, you should come with me to Monaco” he smiled, proud of his idea. “So we can spend some time together”

You sat on the sofa, carefully thinking about what he said.

“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t wanna ruin your boys trip” you told him honestly. “It’s your time off after a long season”

Trent sat next to you, and you rested your face on his shoulder.

“Cmon, you only have two weeks off and I don’t want to spend one of them far away from you. It’ll be fun, Tyler and Marcel will love having you around for a few days”

Suddenly coming from the kitchen, Marcel threw himself besides Trent.

“Yeah Y/N, come with us. It’s a brother's trip, and you’re like a sister. At least to some of us” he chuckled, and you straightened your body to frown at him.

“Shut up” Trent scolded his brother, and soon they were pushing each other and playfully fighting.

Dianne came out of the kitchen, giving them a flat look.

“Boys, Y/N didn’t come here to see this” she sighed. “They look like five years old, don’t they? Come here darling, help me out with the cupcakes”

You happily followed her into the kitchen. Her energy has always embraced yours, and after your mum, Dianne is the oldest woman you like to talk to the most.

“Oh, Y/N! We missed you so much, darling” she smiled softly, taking the cupcakes out of the oven. “How’s Italy? Everything you ever dreamed about?”

“Italy is good, Di” you smiled back, smelling the cakes. “They just don’t have…”

“Trent” she put them in front of you, giggling.

Sometimes, his mother knows you too well for your liking.

“Yeah” you admitted shyly.

Taking the coloured buttercream frosting she gave you, you started to decorate the cupcakes.

“Is everything alright between you two?” she asked tenderly. “He’s been really upset about himself lately and the only thing he’d say to me is that he had upset you”

“Yeah, we had a bit of a bickering moment” you shrugged. “Friendships are like that, but I’m sure we’ll talk about it once we’re ready. We always do”

Dianne nodded, and you knew she didn’t want to stick her nose in your friendship. She just cares too much.

“You know he loves you” she brought you some sprinkles.

“I love him too” you smiled. “Trent is my favourite person, you know. He just can be hard sometimes. To read, to understand”

She sat next to you and grabbed a cupcake to decorate it herself.

“To love?” she teased. You shook your head, biting your lips so the few tears wouldn’t spill.

“Trent was never hard to love. I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. He must have a hard time loving me” you murmured, but Dianne stayed quiet.

“You were never hard to love either” his voice made you jump, immediately shy of being caught. “What do we have for dinner tonight, mum?”

His arms circled your waist, and Trent hugged you tight against his chest. The heat on your face wasn’t unusual at this point, and he seemed to be the king in making your cheeks burn.

“Homemade pizza. I would’ve changed it if you had warned me Y/N was coming, poor girl probably eats pizza every day for the last six months” she gave you an apologetic look but you only laughed.

“It’s ok, Di. I love your pizza” you smiled. When you were younger, both of your families would reunite once a week to eat her pizza, and in the end it always looked like a party, full of people, laughters and happiness.

“And we also have my cupcakes for the dessert” Trent said excitedly, the pure joy in his voice making you smile. You leaned back so your head would rest on his shoulder, and he gave your forehead a quick peck.

“You baked them?” your shocked tone made Dianne laugh, and Trent looked at you with a false offended expression.

“Surprised?” he murmured in your ear, and you tried not to choke in your own spit.

“Di, are you sure I have to stay for dinner?” you joked, laughing when Trent’s fingers started to squeeze your waist.

Soon Michael was home, and after chatting with him about your classes and teachers, you shared a pizza with the Alexander-Arnold family.

Dianne also told you how Aura has changed their life’s, and the spark on Trent’s eyes was impossible not to see.

After tasting his cupcakes and having to admit they were pretty good, you had to say goodbye to your second family, promising to try and visit as soon as possible.

Later that night in your old room, you wore one of your favourite hoodies of Trent that you shamelessly brought from his house, pretending you were too cold to come back home without one, and his smell instantly engulfed you.

You came to Liverpool focused on forgetting your feelings and determined to get back at what you and Trent were before all of this, but watching his smile, his body lazily thrown on the sofa and how his soft eyes would look at you ruined you all over again.

On the other hand, he seemed like he couldn’t stay away from you either, his arms always hugging you, his pinky touching yours over the dinner table. His longing and lingering stares.

You groaned, grabbing your pillow and burying your face in it before screaming frustratedly. Now more than ever, it was clear for you that you weren't able to be only his friend. That you would always want more.

But you had promised him this, that things would be like nothing ever happened, and your friendship deserved a try.

Your father’s words hammered in your head, and if you were being honest with yourself you knew the pair of you needed to have an honest conversation, but the fear wouldn’t let you ask him for it.

If you make the decision alone, you know what it implies — you’ll have to suppress your feelings for him, forever. But as soon as Trent enters this conversation, he can choose to cut all the ties.

You know Trent too well, and this means knowing that by not feeling the same as you he wouldn’t want to be friends whilst you were in love. This would mean hurt you a lot, and he could never.

Squirming in bed, you tried your best to fall asleep and have a break from your thoughts, but his face refused to leave your mind. Giving up, you texted him exactly what he wanted to read.

—

You were sure you looked like a child.

Everything was so glamorous and fancy, and you were truly excited to be experiencing the most classic Formula One Grand Prix.

The cars were huge, the atmosphere unbelievable. You felt like you were at Disneyland, but made for adults with an unhealthy love for cars.

You felt at home, the engine sounds reaching deep in your heart and you knew you couldn’t be happier.

Tyler and Marcel decided to take a few pictures whilst you and Trent went to the Alpine box so he could see the team before the first session.

You gladly noted that things weren’t awkward between you both, and you soon started to talk about the old times when the pair of you would watch races together.

Suddenly you heard someone shout for Trent followed with a whistle, and immediately prayed that it wasn’t a fan.

You love them, you really do, but since you started to show up more at the games and with his family they were usually rude to you, and you were having a really perfect weekend.

Gladly for you, the pair of you turned around to face Ben and Mason, and Trent happily greeted them with a hug.

“No red bull garage this year?” Mason teased, talking about when they met in the same garage.

“Oh you know, I’m here for business” Trent chuckled, showing them the Alpine paddock pass and the boys playfully whistled. “This is Y/N, my best friend”

“So this is the Y/N” Mason’s eyes twinkled and he shook your hand. “Nice to meet you”

“Trent talks a lot about you” Ben also shook your hand, smiling politely.

You smiled at then, feeling your face heating up at the mention of Trent talking about you.

“But he never told us you’re this pretty” Mason playfully smirked, making you giggle.

“Can I have a word with you, Mason?” Trent motioned his head, making Ben laugh.

“I’ll take Mr. Flirty Mount out of here before the news needs to report the England boys were fighting in Monaco. See you, guys” he chuckled, dragging Mason away whilst he’d blow kisses to you.

You laughed, shaking your head and facing Trent.

“Remember when you told me guys don’t like you romantically?” he snorted. “And now I have to kick them away from you”

“Mason wasn’t flirting” you told him. “He was trying to play with you and get under your skin, hitting on your best friend”

“Y/N, if I wasn’t here to say he’s not allowed to get closer to you in a romantic or sexual way Mason would’ve asked for your number and obviously tried to take you out and God knows what more. Now that he’s close enough I can’t take the risk, that man should’ve stayed in London”

You stared at him with a serious look in your eyes.

“I’d never get involved with someone from your workspace. You know I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but even if you didn’t kicked him away Mason would just do like all the others and disappear after a while”

“The others… you say like, the ones I also had to kick?” Trent chuckled before your confused expression made him gulp. “Looook, a car! Wow, plenty of cars. So many cars”

“You’ve been scaring my potential boyfriends away?” you crossed your arms, and Trent started to walk to Alpine’s box.

“Guilty! I didn’t want you to date any of them. I’m sorry, but they weren’t good enough for you, Y/N” he shrugged, turning around to check if you were following him.

“Since when is up to you to decide?” you raised an eyebrow, but your light tone showed Trent you weren't about to kill him.

He gave you your favourite smile, when he bites his lower lip in tries to stop smiling, but then his smile slowly shows up. It’s pretty and sensual and makes you want to lean forward and kiss him.

“See, I’m your best friend. I know what’s good for you, and they weren’t. That’s all! I’m a guy and I know other guys, I was just protecting my incredible friend” he blinked, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“Well, thank you then. But I’d appreciate it if instead of kicking the ones that aren’t good enough, you could find me someone good enough” you hugged his arm, resting your face on his bicep.

“The only one good enough for you is me” Trent poked your nose before waving to what you presumed was one of the racing drivers. “Esteban, hi!”

—

After the events of the day, you decided to walk back to the hotel room you would stay in, whilst Trent and his brothers stayed to talk a bit.

Sharing the room was an obvious decision. You and Trent always shared a bed on every trip or when staying over someone’s house during teenagers parties.

You instantly got in the shower, and the hot water helped you to relax your tense muscles from walking around the paddock the whole day, but also from being next to Trent for so long.

You didn’t have where to run, and the lingering small touches were driving you crazy. You promised him that it’d be like nothing happened, but you weren’t so sure you’d be able to do that.

‘Look how funny, we were running away from our feelings so we wouldn’t ruin what we had, but running can be exactly the reason for you both to fall apart’, you remembered your dad’s words.

Sighing deeply, you finished your shower and dried your body, wearing Trent’s t-shirt you stole before entering the bathroom.

You couldn’t sleep without your skin care night routine, so you took your time to wash and moisturise your face, applying the simple version of your routine since you wouldn’t travel with all of your products.

After finishing it and brushing your hair, you left the bathroom. You were expecting Trent to stay out longer with his brothers, but as soon as you got out he was entering the room, and you froze in place.

“Thank you for staying with me” he smiled, closing the door behind him.

“Well, your brothers would find it weird if we didn’t share the room for the first time in fifteen years” you joked, but Trent frowned.

“That’s why you accepted? You wouldn’t share the room with me if Marcel and Tyler weren’t here?”

You sighed, not wanting to argue with him.

“You’re overthinking, Trent. I wouldn’t have accepted to come to Monaco with you if we weren’t on good terms”

“I had to beg you to come, Y/N. What’s wrong?” he asked you, exasperated. “Am I a bad fucker or what? Is this about Theo? Are you with him now?”

“This is not about how you- do it, Trent. And I already told you he’s just a friend, we’re not together”

He gave you an annoyed look, and you were about to say you could just share the room with Marcel instead when he opened his mouth.

“I’m just your friend as well and this doesn’t stop us from kissing each other once a month” he mumbled, his words making your body stiffen.

“So you remember?” you gasped, not believing the words he had just said.

“How the fuck could I forget” Trent’s voice was low, and is was obvious that confessioning it was taking everything in him. “Every time you kiss me is like the world makes sense. You make me feel alive and I hate that someone else can be feeling the same whilst I’m so fucking away”

Your mind started to spin, and you tried your best to keep breathing.

“You- what? Why you never told me?” you looked at him, your vision slightly blurred with tears. Trent stayed silent, and even though you know he’s not good with his words you expected him at least to try and defend himself. “Fuck you. How could you let me believe you didn’t know for all these months?”

“Listen-” he sighed, but you only shook your head.

“No, you listen. I’m tired” you wiped the tears from your face. “You can’t pretend you doesn’t know that we kissed multiple times and then act like you’re in love with me”

“But I am!” he ran his hand through his hair, but despite the hurt look in his eyes you weren’t willing to believe him.

“The only thing you are right now, Trent, is drunk. Just like every other time you thought you wanted something to do with me” your hurt voice tone made Trent’s heart drop, but at the same time he just wanted you to believe his words. “Just like how when you thought you wanted to fuck me”

He knew it was wrong to keep something like that from you, to pretend he didn’t know about your feelings for months, but he couldn’t change the past. The only thing he could try to do was explain himself but he had no idea where to start, and the fact he felt lost started to annoy him.

“Good. We can always blame Trent’s lil shot of vodka and his silly glass of beer” he raised his voice, exasperated. He knew it wasn’t your fault, but he was trying to open up for the first time since your first kiss and things weren’t going on as he planned. “We should just go to bed so you can forget we talked about this”

“You’re the one who likes to forget when something happens between us” you screamed back at him. “I used to wish you were fucking sober so you would remember you want me when you were not. You knew that? I used to pray for you to wake up once and still feels like kissing me”

His heart twisted in his chest at the sight of your tears.

“Why did you pretend you didn’t remember? You want me when you have more drinks than you should and when you wake up you realise you don’t?” your shaky voice hurt him. “Acting like it never happened has been killing me for months, just in order to not ruin things with you when in reality you knew all this time”

“So why did you say it back then?” his hands were on his neck, in an exasperated movement. “I never told you I remembered because I was afraid you didn’t want me to remember, Y/N. And then, the only time you were sure I did, you ghosted me only to come back saying exactly what I feared to hear. Why?”

“I don’t want the fact that I fucking want you to ruin our friendship, Arnold” you blurted out, instantly panic washing over you when Trent’s eyes widened. “Forget it. Forget, I’ll go to sleep. I don’t wanna talk about that”

“But I do. I need to talk about that” he held you by your wrist, not letting you get to the bed. “Please?”

“Do you need to talk about what, exactly? Why the fuck are you the one acting like I rejected you” you snapped, watching Trent frown at you.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and that you were doing exactly what your parents asked you not to, but the fact that he’d been lying to you changed everything.

“Because you did! You didn’t even let me explain what I was thinking that night. You didn’t let me talk before assuming that I didn’t want you”

You felt your face heating up, thinking that you had actually ran away from him.

“You told me we shouldn’t have done it” you murmured, playing with your fingers.

“Yeah, I did. But not in the way you understood” he snorted. “I was dizzy and lazy from my orgasm, and you didn’t give me any time to explain myself. I just- I don’t know why I said it, I should’ve kept shut. But the fact that I’d be going home hours after having you and we would spend God knows how much time apart from each other made me sick. Just slipped out of my mouth and you got it wrong”

“Oh” you bite the inside of your cheek, avoiding his eyes and suddenly too shy to argue.

“Yeah, oh. Then you ignored me for a whole fucking month. Not funny, Y/N”

“I’m sorry, but things weren’t clear, Trent. Can you try to see this from my perspective? You fucked your best friend from ages, but I slept with the only guy I’ve wanted since high school. When you said you couldn’t do that I felt so embarrassed. Naked in a hotel’s bed whilst the man that I love was saying he didn’t want that” you kept looking to the floor, feeling your heart twisting in your chest. “I told you pretty personal things once, Trent. I was honest and I was scared, and when you told me back I thought that that was when things were supposed to change”

“What are you talking about?” Trent walked towards you, his body gently pressing yours against the wall. He held your chin, tilting your head up to face his.

“That night at the England party before the camp, when you flirted with that girl. I told you things” you murmured, not wanting to repeat that you told him you loved him in a different way. “And when you said it back I thought that we-”

“Fuck, the National Team party? You chose the only day I was actually drunk to tell me things?” his forehead dropped to yours, his hand stroking your chin. You closed your moist eyes and Trent observed your face. “We’ll, I’ve told you things too. At your farewell party” he giggled. “I told you pretty personal things, and when you said it back…”

You were back at avoiding his gaze, but his gentle grip on your chin forced you to face his shining and soft eyes again.

After a minute of looking at each other, Trent picked you up and quickly walked the pair of you to the bed, laying you there before getting comfortable on top of you and between your legs.

“You know I’m not good with words, but since you told me you love me I think I should say how I feel about you” he brushed his nose against your neck, the suddenly comfortable atmosphere making you smile. “You seem to have no idea of that, but being around you is the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re like breathing pure air after inhaling smoke, Y/N. When I see you I know I can finally relax. No worries. I don’t need to pay attention to what I’m saying, I don’t need to worry if you’ll understand me. I can be myself. You’ve seen my flaws and my qualities, and you haven’t run away not for once. My mind is at peace when I look at you, but then my heart is pretty different. So disturbed. You settle me but then you’re not mine, and one day you’ll be settling someone else. It terrifies me to the point I can’t breathe sometimes”

Trent said it all in a low and controlled tone, like he was forcing the words to come out. Without breaking eye contact, you cupped his face and stroked his cheeks and let him continue.

“I- in Italy, I was so angry and I’m sorry. I've been hoping that what happened wouldn’t change what we are because the mere idea of losing you makes me sick” he sighed, making you smile softly. “But at the same time I need it to change. I just can’t be your best friend anymore. I want to touch you like that. And kiss you, and hold you”

You felt your cheeks getting warm and that weird feeling on the pit of your stomach. The uncertainty about the future, the fear. But also the hope of having the only boys you always wanted.

“We’re kinda friends with benefits at this point” you joked, but Trent huffed.

“I’m not here for friends with benefits, Y/N. It never works. I want all or nothing” his lips brushed against yours. “Be my girlfriend”

Your eyes widened at his words, but Trent only leaned against your palm, his softly gaze analysing your expression whilst patiently waiting for an answer.

You didn’t need to think much about it, but you appreciated that he let you take your time to picture what that would mean for the pair of you.

“Like- like a girlfriend? You girlfriend?”

“Unless you’re already dating someone else” he teased you. “But I’m way better than him, so if you are then you should break up with your boyfriend”

“I couldn’t date anyone else that’s not you, I’m afraid” you shyly admitted, making Trent giggle.

“I wonder how would you explain a possessive and jealous guy that does everything with you and cuddle and snuggle and wear you on his clothes, cook for you, drive for you, pick your movies and likes to kiss you” he kissed your chin, and only then you understood what he meant back at your fight about Theo.

Trent didn’t want Theo to know he had no chance. He wanted Theo to know that, if he wanted to date you, he’d have to accept your best friend that looks like your boyfriend. Just like how he does with the girls he chats.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s why none of you ever had a long and lasting relationship with anyone else.

“You eased things for me a lot” you smiled. “Now I just need to say that the jealous guy is my boyfriend”

Trent tilted his head. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah” you murmured, trying to bite back a smile. “It sounds really good”

Different from the kiss that night in Italy, Trent gently pecked your lips and waited for you to make the first move. Rolling your eyes playfully, you pulled him closer by his neck before kissing him.

His lips touched yours gently, caring and lovingly. Slowly opening them, Trent let his tongue slide inside of your mouth, fighting with yours for dominance.

The hand on your waist kept rubbing circles and caressing your skin underneath your hoodie, his fingers constantly bumping into your panties’ strap.

You couldn’t have enough of him, and when you tried to get him even closer, scratching the back of his neck, Trent groaned into your mouth and pressed his hips forward.

The feeling of his semi hard crotch pressed against your core made your mind go blank. You opened your mouth to moan and he took the opportunity to turn your kiss into a sloppy one, biting and licking your lips.

“Let me take care of you. Real care of you this time” he murmured against your jaw, pressing even further against you. “Please”

“We can’t right now” you told him, but his only response was to suck your neck in a way that got you squirming beneath him. “Trent-”

“I’m dying to feel you, baby. I’ve been dreaming about you, every night. I wake up sweating and hard as fuck and all I wanna do is to beg you to take care of me” he whispered. “I swear I’ll be a good boy, please?”

You gulped, incapable of denying that his words got you close to the edge.

“But your brothers-”

“Just be quiet f’me” he whispered, kisses trailing down your neck. When his hand found your bare chest, you knew it was over for you.

“I can’t be quiet with you” you whispered in a desperate tone that immediately got Trent chuckling, his thumb slowly stroking your nipple.

“Guess you’ll need to try” he pulled away to look at you and smirk.

You cupped his face, stroking his chin and staring into his eyes.

“This is different, right? Than the last time”

Trent stopped his teasing and leaned down to give you the softest kiss you ever had, his lips touching yours like he was afraid he could hurt you.

“I’m truly sorry for what happened, and I’m truly sorry for panicking when I should’ve seen you were just as scared as me” he murmured, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “But I didn’t lie, Y/N. I want you, and I think we can make it work. You know me like nobody else, and I like to think I know you too”

“You do” you quickly nodded, your heart warm with love.

Trent’s gaze made you feel like he could see your naked soul, his dark and big eyes showing you they were ready to be honest with you.

“You’re everything I need. You make my tummy flutter and my dick hard and every time I get home I wish I could hug you through the night” he told you sincerely, making you laugh. “Don’t laugh at me, baby”

“I’m not. Sorry, it was just cute”

You bit your lips, still trying to hold your giggles.

“Oh, you think it’s cute when I say you make me hard? I’m starting to think you’re a bit naughty, Y/N” he poked your waist, and you laughed harder. “I mean it when I say I want you to be my girlfriend, and I need you to know I’m being serious. I know we’re both tired though, so we can talk better when you’re ready, yeah?”

Hw kissed your forehead and motioned to get off of you, but you didn’t want that.

“No” you protested, hugging his shoulders to make him stay.

“You wanna sleep like this?” his soft voice made your tummy flutter, and you almost felt bad for all the filthy thoughts running through your mind when he was talking so sweetly. Almost.

“I’m wet and bothered because of you, Alexander” you whispered, tugging your fingers in his hair. “You’re fucking me tonight”

Trent raised his eyebrows at you, surprised by your attitude, and licked his lips.

“Am I?” he murmured, his eyes falling to your lips. You scratched the back of his head, pulling him closer so you could gently bite his lower lip. “I’m def fucking you tonight”

You giggled, circling his waist with your legs, and he groaned, hand slipping underneath your t-shirt again.

It wasn’t long until his face was between your legs. Trent kissed your inner thigh, holding eye contact. Lazily brushing his nose against your skin, giving it little bites before kissing your core over your panties’ fabric.

When you raised your hips for him to take it off, Trent cursed under his breath.

“I’m wet enough, babe” you whispered, the pet name falling from your lips like it’s something constant.

Trent raised his head to look at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“Said it again” he asked, his body on top of yours again.

You smiled, biting your lip. “I’m wet enough?”

“No, the other thing” his lips brushed against yours, his low voice making you shiver whilst your entire body screamed for him.

“Babe?” you repeated innocently, smiling when he rested hus forehead on your shoulder.

“God” he tucked his head in your neck, kissing your skin. “Gonna moan like that for me?”

“If you make me” you murmured, pride washing over you when he tightened his grip on your waist. “Are you good?”

“I said it once, but I never thought you could be such a brat” he mumbled, taking a deep breath. “I’m having trouble to control my own body”

“Aw” you lovingly mocked him. “Then don’t”

Trent chuckled, pulling away so he could take your panties off, and the way he looked at you made you feel a bit shy under his gaze even though he had already seen you naked.

He wanted you, and you could see how much just by the way his dark eyes travelled your body, his tongue poking out to lick his lips at the sight of you uncovered.

“So fucking pretty. And you know that” he caressed your waist, eyes meeting yours.

Even though you never saw yourself as an ugly girl and that a few guys often had told you how gorgeous they thought you were, it was the first time you actually believed that another person could see you as profoundly as you see yourself.

You could feel in his voice tone how Trent actually thought you were this beautiful, how much he liked to look at you. And how he meant it.

“Someone might have told me that once” you shrugged, smiling when he rolled his eyes.

“I did” he pecked your lips before slightly biting your chin. “And you were moaning my name a few seconds later”

You giggled, kissing himin sequence. It was still weird for you how his lips fit into yours so well, how they were able to make you weak.

When he pulled away with an erratic breath, you smirked and laid down again.

“You’re wearing too much clothes” you teased, and Trent raised his eyebrows before getting off of you and starting to strip.

He took the white t-shirt off, letting you admire his arms and chest before unbuttoning his pants, taking it off along with his boxers.

You cursed loudly, catching Trent’s attention.

“I don’t think you’ll fit, Alexander” you chuckled, but knowing you damn well he could say you were scared straight away.

“I know it looks like it but I’m not that big”

It was a lie. You licked your lips whilst watching him touching himself a few times before wearing the condom, getting ready for you.

“You’re huge, babe” you whispered. “Insanely big”

You could see him getting flustered, his shy eyes meeting yours whilst he walked towards you again.

“Stop” he groaned, and the sight of his large hands teasing his angry tip made you feel warm. Everywhere.

“You’re not only big, Trentie. You’re thick” you raised your eyebrows, biting back a moan. “Fuck, you’re so hot”

Trent bit his lips shyly, and you were amazed with your capacity of making him shy. Tapping the bed, you waited for him to crawl in your direction, settling between your legs.

“Which position do you want?” you smirked when he was on top of you again. You could feel him against your thigh, the desperation growing wilder.

“I feel like I should be the one asking this” he chuckled. “But I’d like our first time to be missionary, if you allow me”

You’d allow him anything at this point, you wanted to say.

“Any special reason?” you stroked his cheek, quickly pecking his lips.

Trent brushed a strand of hair out of your face, looking at you like you were holding the moon.

“I liked the look in your eyes when you were almost there that night. I want to see how you’ll look at me whilst I’m hitting you good” he kissed your chin, the feeling of him pressed against you making you let out a small cry.

Trent didn’t lost time in guiding himself to tease you, sliding his tip through your folds and tapping it against your clit.

He wasn’t the type to praise a lot, and instead of words he used his actions very well, every touch of him working you up even more.

When you sighed, he slowly slid it to your core and slightly thrusted forward, a small moaning falling from his lips.

“Trentie-” you whined, making him kiss you to silence you.

“I haven’t even started yet and you’re already falling apart?” Trent teased you, his forehead against yours whilst he pushed himself further.

It took you a while to adjust to him. Not that you were a saint, but you didn’t hook up with half Italy either, and as much as it was good to feel him it was also uncomfortable.

“Why are you tense baby?” he kissed your hairline, trying his best to stay still.

You sighed, debating on telling him or not.

“It’s been a while- I’m not as experienced as you”

Truth be told, you were terrified you wouldn’t be to him as good as he was to you.

“Y/N, c’mon” he trailed kisses down your face. “It’s just me, baby. Your Trentie”

“I know, but this is such a new thing to us” you pouted, making him smile.

“Love how you’re able to go from a brat to a baby. The duality of a woman” he brushed his nose against your cheek, and you giggled.

“Sorry, I’m ruining it. You’ll be soft again in a second” you joked, but Trent only pressed his hip further.

“Are you listening to yourself right now? Your personality is exactly what turned me on to this point” he adjusted himself slightly, and you couldn’t help but moan.

“Move” you asked him quietly, murmuring. “Please, Trent”

The sensation was overwhelming. Not only the pleasure of having sex, but the euphoria of having sex with him.

With your boy, who knows you so well, who waits patiently for you to adjust around him, who makes you moan with just a touch of his strong but ever so gentle hands.

Trent kept his slow pace, enjoying how he could feel every inch of you whilst groaning and moaning in your ear.

“God, you feel so good” he murmured, leaning to kiss your jaw. “So fucking tight around me, just how I imagined you’d be”

His words made your head spin, the goosebumps down your spine making you moan.

“You really thought about this before?” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulder.

Trent giggled, biting your shoulder lovingly. “A lot”

You closed your eyes, and knowing that he was enjoying let you totally relax your body. Feeling the difference, he increased the pace and changed the angle.

It didn’t take long for you to feel that weird and hazy sensation in the pitch of your stomach, your toes curling whilst you dropped your head on the pillow.

“Trent, babe” you murmured, trying to be quiet. “I’m-”

He looked at your fucked up expression, your swollen lips and the messy hair around your face, feeling proud of the state he got you in.

“Does that feel good?” his lips brushed against yours whilst he pounded into you. “I know it does by the way you’re clenching around me, but I’d like to hear you say”

“It feels so good” you whined, sobbing when he pressed his palm against your lower stomach. “It feels so fucking good, it makes me wanna scream”

Arching your back so you could feel him closer, you repeatedly whispered his name, like a song Trent would never get tired of hearing.

“I can’t hold it anymore, Trentie” you cried out, scratching his neck and biting his shoulder in tries to keep quiet.

“Uhm, my pretty girl” he kissed you softly, his tongue invading your mouth, so lazily and caring. “Let go f’me, princess”

Your high hit you with an unknown intensity,

“You squeezed the life out of me” he kissed your temple, getting on his feet to discard the condom.

Coming back from the bathroom, he laid on top of you, sighing when your fingers started to scratch his scalp.

“Gonna sound cliche” he groaned, kissing your shoulder. “But you have no idea how many times I’ve dreamed of this”

“In any of your dreams, it happened in Monaco?” you chuckled, yawning in sequence. “And if yes, we made it to the race? I feel like sleeping the whole day”

“We should take a shower and get some sleep” Trent murmured, and even though you agreed with him, none of you moved a finger.

“This is real, right?” you whispered, the answer already sparkling in his eyes when he looked at you. “I’m scared” you admitted, your heart beating wildly in your chest and the knot on your throat immediately showing up. “What if we can’t make it? What if we fight really bad one day and you’ll be sure there’s no way out of it? What if we broke up and things won’t ever be the same and it’ll ruin our family’s friendship. And I’ll probably have to see you walking around with an ugly model as your new bag”

“Shhh, I wouldn’t let that happen” he changed to a sit position, bringing you closer and holding you tight.

He ran his hand on your back, and you took deep breaths before replying.

“You can’t promise me that” you murmured against his shoulder.

Trent took a few seconds to speak, tilting your head up so you would see his eyes.

“I promise you, Y/N, I would never, ever, walk around with an ugly model” he chuckled, stopping when you hit his arm. “We’ll, I’m promising you that right now, baby” he murmured. “I’m forever yours, and nothing will be able to ruin this. I’ll never let anything get in between us”

—

After a quick shower and some sleep, you almost couldn’t wake up in the morning. Trent used the bathroom first before gently calling you so you could get ready for the day, and after half an hour you were able to win the battle.

When you left the bathroom, you watched Trent looking at himself in the mirror, adjusting his beige overall.

“Are you wearing this?” you frowned, feeling like one of those toxic boyfriends.

“What, you don’t like it?” he turned around to face you, and you instantly cursed yourself from opening your mouth when you were met with uncertainty in his eyes.

You shook your head, quickly walking towards him.

“No, is not that. You look really good” you hugged his neck. “You just look too good for my concern”

His shoulders relaxed and he let out the cutest giggle in the world, holding your waist.

“That shouldn’t be a good thing?”

“We’re in Monaco, Trent. And you’re a footballer. I can only imagine the amount of girls that’ll throw themselves at you” you frowned, but he only shrugged.

“Unfortunately for them, I only care about one girl”

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning to kiss him when a loud knock on the door made you pull away. Trent groaned before gently pulling you close by your neck until your lips were brushing against his.

“Priorities, princess. They can wait” he pecked your lips, trailing kisses down your jaw and your neck. It wasn’t long until you felt your knees getting weak.

Gently sucking and biting the spot underneath your ear, Trent groaned when a small moan slipped through your lips.

“I think the race isn’t that important” he mumbled, kissing you gently and slowly, the urge of pulling you even closer making his grip tighter on your waist.

When one of his brothers knocked on the door again, Trent pulled away and huffed.

“The sooner we leave the sooner we get back” he whispered, grabbing your hand and walking to the door, only stopping so you could pick up your bag on the bed.

When he opened the door, Tyler and Marcel were looking back at you.

“Wow, Y/N. You look like you don’t sleep for days” Marcel teased your appearance as soon as you left the room.

“Me and Trent kept gossiping until morning” you yawned, grabbing the coffee Tyler handed to you. “I’m starting to regret it”

When Marcel and Trent started to walk a few steps in front of you two, the eldest brother passed his arm over your shoulder.

“You know I’m old enough to recognise a man who had sex when I see one” he giggled, and your heart instantly dropped.

“Tyler-” you gasped, but he shook his head and squeezed your body against his.

“No, no. I’m glad it happened. You make him happy like nothing else does, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone until you two are ready, but I wanted to tell you myself how happy I am to have you around and looking out for my little brother. Trent had some bad and tough moments, especially when it comes to love, but I trust you. And I trust him to take care of such a special girl like you”

You smiled shyly, his words making you feel safe and loved.

“Thank you” you smiled, hugging his waist. “You know I’m also happy to be around your family”

“Oh, just wait until you’re officially part of it then” he chuckled, the sound getting Trent’s attention.

Your boy turned around, frowning at the sight of you two laughing.

“Hey, can you get away from my girl please” Trent shouted, walking back to you and grabbing your hand.

“You’re so dramatic” Tyler rolled his eyes before looking at you again. “Good luck with this one, you gonna need it”

Trent snorted, putting you beside him. His hand slipped into your jean’s pocket, and you tried to bite a smile.

“Your girl?” you teased. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Of course I wanna do this. There's a better place to have paparazzi couple pictures than the Monaco GP?” he kissed your cheek. “Yeah, I’m totally sure. Want them to know you’re mine. The only one I want when I’m happy and when I’m sad, when I’m sleepy or when I’m awake. The one I want when I’m drunk and when I’m sober”

“And the one that makes you talk like you’re twelve years old” Marcel rolled his eyes, slapping Trent’s head and making you laugh. “Never saw you talking like that”

“Man is in love, Marcel. Let him” Tyler came to the rescue, but soon he was teasing along. “Wait for him to have his own kid and you’ll see him reach his peak of foolishness”

“God, Tyler. I got the girl yesterday and you’re trying to scare her already” he looked really annoyed, and you tried to hold your giggles so you wouldn’t ruin his mood. “C’mon baby, let’s get out of here”

“C’mon baby” Marcel mimicked him, extending his hand to grab Tyler’s.

“Let’s get out of here” the eldest joined him, both erupting in giggles whilst Trent guided you to Alpine’s box, soon finding a corner where he could kiss you as if the pair of you didn’t have a race to watch.

For the rest of the day you walked around the paddock with Trent. Fingers intertwined, kisses exchanged and vows of love quietly spoken against each other’s mouth.

[bonesrbleaching]

had the most braindead repetitive conversation/argument with my parents. buzz cuts are too masculine but if you dye a design on it it become effeminate which is bad because then you look weak and if youre weak then society falls apart (all societies ever that have fallen apart for any reason are actually because of feminine men) and we start sacrificing babies. and also all mental illness is invented because only 4 people had anxiety in the 90s and covid was made up so that we would all become gay and trans and then the government can control us better and be joe biden's little sex slaves. and also i need to keep my hair long because my father finds it attractive. what

[hedgehog-moss]

The great thing about having no internet for a couple of weeks is, you get so much stuff done. I've made great strides in my fight against invasive plants in the pasture!

^ This large rock used to be lost in a sea of broom, you couldn't even see it.

It's a lot more fastidious now that I'm uprooting plants one by one with the root slayer instead of clearing the whole area with a brushcutter, but hopefully they'll no longer be able to sneakily bide their time underground and then grow back even stronger from their intact root system.

I took some in-progress pictures—don't these invasive plants look like a retreating army?

We've had a tiny bit of April snow—I don't know if I can call it that, the air just felt icy and wet and tangible, if I opened my mouth I could feel snowflakes fly into it but nothing was actually falling on the ground. It felt like being repeatedly enveloped then dismissed by clouds that had made plans to drop their snowflakes elsewhere.

But every time I saw Pandolf he looked like a starry night, so there really were snowflakes in the air!

It felt very satisfying to come home with my face and hands all numb and warm up by stuffing entire wheelbarrows' worth of broom into the wood oven then throwing a match. Ever since I've learnt that this plant attracts ticks, burning it has felt like defeating two enemies at once. I listen to the lovely little crackling sounds of a broomfire and picture hundreds of ticks popping like popcorn.

My animals didn't enjoy being stuck inside snow clouds all day—I saw the llamas use their shelter for once, and Pandolf politely asked to come in and sit by the fire instead of staying out to collect more snowflakes in his fur, so I think they were all already in spring mode in their minds.

Merricat also (less politely) asked for shelter, but Merricat treats every instance of wet weather like a national scandal that I personally failed to prevent.

Even the hens wanted to come sit by the fire, and when I said no (you are hens), one of them ignored me and walked in, resolutely, clucking for the younger hen to follow her, like "let me teach you how it's done".

You know when you want to eat a crêpe in a crêpe restaurant in Paris and the waiter looks baffled that you envisage to buy food in his food establishment and he says no that won't possible, and you're like these people over there are having coffee they're almost done we'll just wait inside for their table!, and (with mounting horror) he says no no no if you really insist on giving us your money then you must wait in the street for the privilege, and watch the diners through the window like little orphans, and then your more assertive, confident friend militantly walks in anyway, encouraging you like, come on he's not gonna call the police, we're about to pay 12€ for 1 crêpe I think we can wait inside thank you very much—because a dismissive aristocratic aplomb is the only attitude that'll get you a table in a crêperie in Montparnasse sometimes? It was pretty much this dynamic. Between me and my hens.

[delicate-cupcake]

Love Letter From Your Future Spouse

Hello everybody 🌹

Here is another PAC for you guys enjoy it my beautiful people.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath then choose your pile intuitively:)

Pile 1 ---- Pile 2 ---- Pile 3 ----

Pile 4 ---- Pile 5 ---- Pile 6

Pile 1

Hello m'lady

I love you because you actually put effort into me I love you because nobody has ever given me the love that you have given me and you are the only one that would ever love me this way. I love you because you always make me feel that I am worth something I love you because you have a nurturing nature and you take care of me because you made me smile when I almost forgot how to. I love you because you have a huge and honest heart. I love you and every little thing about you. I love you because you are simply you.

If nothing else I hope you know that I love you with everyone ounce of my being I hope you realise your importance not only to me but to everyone who has been lucky enough to know you I hope you know that when you are feeling down I pray for your happiness I hope you remember that no matter what I am here for you and I always will be I won't leave you I am in your life forever I am not going anywhere I hope you recognise the fact that I appreciate and adore you and that this will never change I love you unconditionally

Pile 2

Mi amor,

I love you enough to fight for you, compromise for you enough to miss you deeply no matter the length of time or how far apart we are enough to believe in our relationship to stand by your side to hold your hand through the ups and downs to have faith and strength in our relationship to never give up on you I love you enough to spend forever with you each day I fall more in love with you making me realise no amount of time is ever enough and even one day forever will run out but I have decided that will be fine because getting to love you is worth it And no babes I am not going to lose feelings no I am not going to find someone better no I am not going to cheat on you and no I am not going to leave you I have already made up my mind I want you and only you No one else because to me you are my kind of perfect.

Pile 2 I think you require a lot of reassurance. Don't worry. this person will always be ready to hear you and give you reassurance

Pile 3

My Honeybee 🐝,

I am going to love you I am going to love you in our weakest moment to our strongest ones. I'm going to love you when you are happy and I am going to still love you the most when you are sad. Don't you understand?  I am here and I am not going anywhere I want to love you each and every piece of you I want you with your imperfections as much as I want you for you and I am always going to want you and always going to be here loving you with my everything. Because I see it I see getting married , moving in together , cuddling on the couch , waking up to good morning kisses , having arguments , making up after , cooking our favourite food , smiling for no reason , annoying each other , when we are bored having the cutest little babies *not them trying to be funny*, watching them grow up and never leaving each other's side.

Pile 4

Love of my life ❤️,

My dreams came true when I met and fell in love with you what is even more amazing is that we are now building dreams together I cannot thank you enough for coming into my life and making it what it is today. We are perfectly in perfect I love how we are beautiful together and that we continue to help each other become stronger and better both as individuals and as a couple I learn everyday from you you are so genuine and courageous I admire and love so much about you and I can't wait to spend the rest of life with you. And trust me when I say that I did not just fall in love with your body yet your soul I fell in love with the way you look at me with your eyes full of joy the way you smile when you talk about animals that you adore the way that your hair flies in the wind like they have mind of their own the way that you walk the way you speak so politely and calmly the way you love unconditionally and without a request I fell in love with all your flaws so hard that no one could save me

Pile 5

Babes,

I wish I could explain in words how much I love you but I can't because there  aren't any words to describe the love I feel for you I miss you also but I am not going to let the distance keep me from loving you even if it's from afar I want you to know that I will always be there for you I will be your shoulder to lean on your distraction when you want to escape and everything else in between I know we have got a long road ahead of us but I am willing to stick it through. And I hope you are as willing too no matter the bad that has happened or will happen always remember that you are so special to me and have a special place in my heart ,  in my mind I don't know how you see our future but I am going to share my vision with you

We will go out on our own little adventures going places you have always wanted to go but of course we will come back home to see our family and friends whenever you'd like.  We will get married and have our first apartment together we will have all the adorable dogs and cats that you want under a reasonable number of course I will constantly be surprising  you with gifts and love and I will promise you everyday the same thing. One word. Forever

Pile 6

Baby,

I want you to understand that love was never meant to be easy people fight people make mistakes people walk out and then run back but when it comes to love there is no limit to what you do for one another to protect to provide to profess it's a lot harder to stay together then to fall apart, but for our love for one another being unconditional will make it worth every second But I want you to know and understand that at the end of the day I want it to be you and me I want your early mornings I want your late night I want you on your good days even more on your bad it is like I am yours the way the sea belongs to the moon the way the moon belongs to the sky and even if the jealous stars break and shatter upon the Milky way I will still see heaven in your eyes. *This is a poem written by Mark Anthony*

Thank you so much for reading this PAC. Please remember that this is only for entertainment purposes.

Masterlist : here

[dfortrafalgar]

Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.

How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.

thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3

also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL

Rectify

Law x Fem Reader

Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.

Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him.  It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth.  All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man.  And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.

Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.

You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd.  You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers.  Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer.  You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came.  And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.

On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason.  He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents.  He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter.  His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.

Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.

Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.

Bellamy certainly seemed to like you.  A lot.

Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants.  The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer.  The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.

You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house.  Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table.  He followed you diligently into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes.  “I didn’t hear you behind me!”

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter.  You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap.  Law eyed you suspiciously.

“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.

You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did.  “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”

Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue.  “Is Bellamy bothering you?”

Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head.  “No.”

“Are you sure?”  Something told him you were lying to his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned.  “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”

“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.

“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly.  “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere.  I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”

You had a point.  Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal.  Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.

Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch.  But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.

“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted.  He hadn’t said anything more.  With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.

The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session.  He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently.  The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable.  Law felt his stomach flip over.  Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned.  A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips.  You looked… aged.  Stressed.  Afraid.

But Law kept his distance.

You didn’t want a scene to break out.  You could handle yourself on your own.

Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs.  The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him.  Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.

“Don’t run off,” he snapped.  “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”

You steeled yourself.  “Then I don’t want you touching me like that.  We’re not an item, Bellamy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed back.  “I’ll touch you however I want.”

The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes.  The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults.  The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.

“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.  

No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been.  When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking.  You were alone.

And Law was somehow so far away.

“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally.  “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you.  You’ll never be able to do better than me.”

You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short.  Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock.  You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin.  Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone.  You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.

And yet.  No one.  Noticed.

Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him.  The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers.  The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.

For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself.  His father was a retired marine after all.  Law knew a thing or two about a good punch.  His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.

Don’t cause a scene.

Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings.  “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”

With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded.  Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.

If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.

The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state.  Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump.  Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street.  Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes.  He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home.  Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.

Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well.  He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.

A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink.  Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste.  Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.

The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink.  As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears.  You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.

Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.

When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen.  He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth.  He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue.  You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch.  The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut.  He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.  

He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink.  “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay?  Don’t remove them until I say so.”

You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle.  You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle.  He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp.  He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath.  He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.

While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face.  While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side.  A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.

Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen.  You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water.  He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl.  He finally turned around to face you.

“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed.  “It might taste kind of bitter.”

You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound.  Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant.  Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit.  Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.

After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye.  “What was that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered.  “To disinfect your tongue.  Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”

Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears.  You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen.  You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.

“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling.  With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable.  Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.  

With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface.  His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers.  It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.

—

It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home.  You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up.  Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space.  Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.

After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch.  He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own.  Your heart galloped in your chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.

“You didn’t drag me into anything.  I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own.  His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest.  “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way.  “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”

When your eyes opened, they were small.  Weak.  Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember.  You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with.  “I never really liked Bellamy.”

The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.

“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile.  Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.”  Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin.  “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no.  I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Again.

Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior.  A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do?  It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it.  And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins.  But he needed to stay calm for you.  Anger solves no issues.  He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.

A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.

“What…” he began, stumbling.  “What do you want from me?  To help you?”

After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up.  “Can you spend the night with me?”

Law blinked once, then twice.  “Here?”

“Yeah.  In my room.”

He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened.  “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You emitted a small gust of air through your nose.  “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Fair enough.  “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw.  The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.

One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt.  “In my bed.  I feel safe with you, Law.  It’s really okay.”

After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack.  He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets.  You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light.  The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.

Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was.  A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin.  The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side.  You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious. 

“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.

You didn’t hold it against him, however.  Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.

You nodded.  “Yes.”

Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him.  He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen.  You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.

The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck.  His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night.  You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.

No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least.  Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.

[dumbseee]

thunder and lightning.

in which, you and jude broke up after a long relationship and you perform the song you wrote for him, in front of him at the ballon d’or ceremony.

jude bellingham x singer!reader.

fc: madison beer.

note: please read this and listen to "thunder and lightning" by serayah. / might turn this into a small serie 🤭

liked by bellahadid, tatemcrae, sabrinacarpenter and 1 829 000 others.

y/n: my most precious and raw song "thunder and lightning" is now yours 🤍 now it’s time to grow and move on.

_

comments have been disabled.

_

you were standing in the middle of this big stage. in front of these important people, some of them used to be people you’d hang out with. but breaking up with jude meant saying goodbye to them too, even if it was hard since you made good friendships thanks to your ex. it was too hard to keep contact with them without jude haunting your thoughts, and they understood that. your break up with jude occured a few months ago now, and you thought you were doing better, but being on this stage, about to perform the song you wrote in one hour, the day he broke up with you, sent shivers all over your body. and you even considered running away.

but you were stronger than before, you worked hard on this song and you needed jude to hear it. you looked absolutely stunning in this dress, you tried to put a smile on your face but only pain and anxiety could be seen. you saw all these people looking at you, some with adoration, others with envy and some with sadness because they knew how hurt you were. thunder and lightning started and you closed your eyes before taking a deep breath. you got this.

"can't you look at me and see that i love ya? and i’d do anything for ya?" you began, looking at the crowd but your eyes immediately found his. you almost stutter on the lyrics but immediately closed your eyes to refocus. his eyes were glowing and his face was torn with concern and almost regret. ha, too late for that boy. "and i’ll do anything for ya, climb up mount everest without a rope, dive into the bermuda without a boat." because it was true, you could do anything for this boy, anything and everything without thinking it twice. you loved him with your whole soul, it was insane. you could’ve quit music if he asked, and that without a second thought because that’s how loyal and in love you were.

"like thunder and lightning, we were meant to be, wrapped up inside your arms, that's right where i belong." you hit the hook with more vulnerability in your voice, it resonated in the whole room and inside people’s heart. you knew some people in the audience would relate to your situation, girlfriends of footballers who suffered the disrespect of their partner. or even footballers themselves having their heart broken by women who never actually loved them. this song wasn’t just about you and jude, it was about this feeling of despair when you see the person you love, leaving you heartbroken and alone. you saw some old friends bobbing their heads to your song and even sending smiles and thumbs ups to you.

you soon end the song, for a minute the room is frozen in silence, no one moves. and the one to break the ice was jude, he got up and clapped you like no one ever clapped for you. soon enough the whole room followed, giving you a standing ovation. you felt your eyes getting watery as you locked eyes with jude, his expression was unreadable. you were the one to break the eye contact as you bowed to the audience and blowed a kiss to the camera. you left the stage and almost ran backstage to let the tears you kept inside since the beginning of the performance, run down your cheeks. you let yourself fall to the ground, your agent and friend hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head. "let’s go home now." you whispered between a sob.

liked by trentarnold66, vinijr, rodrygogoes and 3 729 028 others.

judebellingham: such an honour to win these trophies. making my parents proud and being a good role model for my brother has always been my top priority, thank you for the support and thank you for always being by my side.

_

fan1: CONGRATS KING

fan2: deserved so much more but i’m so happy for him

fan3: making the parents proud >>

fan4: the fact that y/n was there too and probably congratulated him :(

fan5: lmao nah she probably left after the performance, she hates his ass now

fan6: as she should tbh

fan7: y/n deserved way better

vinijr: 🔥🔥🔥

philfoden: congrats mate! keep shinning 💪🏼

fan8: i’m a huge fan but you should be held accountable for how you treated y/n

fan9: DON’T LISTEN TO THE HATERS KING

fan10: the future of football is right there

fan11: keep showing them who’s the boss jude!

fan12: he looked so good tho 🥴

fan13: finally a stylist who does him justice

deuxmoi: hm, being a good role model right? then care to explain why a little bird came to us with receipts about the night she had with you, while you were dating y/n?

fan14: WTF

fan15: WTFFFABSKSKSLDDD WHAT IS THIS

fan16: nah they must be lying jude would NEVER cheat

fan17: deuxmoi isn’t even a reliable source!

fan18: yeah but apparently they got receipts so…

view all comment.

y/n just posted a story!

caption: couldn’t relate more.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Better Man

Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.

Finally.

It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.

You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do

Eddie.

He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.

Fuck, he was so sexy.

His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.

"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.

"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.

"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.

"We're done"

"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.

Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.

Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.

One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.

The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.

"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.

"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.

"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.

❤️

Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.

"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.

"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.

"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.

He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.

"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.

"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.

His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.

"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"

The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.

Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.

You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.

"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.

He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.

Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.

Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.

"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.

"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"

Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.

You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.

"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.

"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.

"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"

Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.

"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.

"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"

Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.

"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.

"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"

Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.

[blueparadis]

+ cw. —› ex-husband aizen souske x (fem)reader, headcanon format, yan!behaviour, smût, angst undertones, marking, jealousy, mentions of breeding kink & baby-trapping | +wc. —0.7kish

+ notes. —› i was listening to cherry waves by deftones ( for the first time ) & this happened. maybe I'll pull this into a fic but for now, have this, please || redirect to blog navigation.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who feels his throat dry, lips corrosive against his favorite drink when he sees you in a cheap restaurant with another guy, considerably younger to y/n, who is alluded in her charms like he was when he first saw her walking down the aisle; when he casually stopped by, at that cheap bar after a long day at work.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who makes sure that from now on he will pay a visit to you and his beloved daughters every weekend so that she does not have to look for affection at some cheap bars and restaurants. This way at least he can ask her if she is actually planning for her second innings or not.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who calls you at ungodly hours: on a warm afternoon or in the dead of night just to let remind you that he will be coming to pick you up after work tomorrow for a weekly visit with his daughters just so his other meetings do not get delayed but all he wants to do is to keep you on watch as much as possible.

+. ex!husband aizen souske occasionally sends gifts to his daughters in order to send his ex-wife expensive presents with personal notes, as if he will return to this home after his work as if he never left.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who checks you out when you're unaware and yet tells you in that familiar deep husky tone: how much those colors suit her that he hated once, how much she looks charming and beautiful, how much she changed since he left and maybe divorce looks good on her : independent and elegant like a free bird.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who thinks her new young boyfriend is not good enough for you, always ends up going to the same restaurants and hotels where he used to take her, just remembering those good old memories.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who wants you back can not just let this opportunity slide, that is, him visiting you when the daughters are not home; so he just asks if you ever regret it or not as if he still can, as if he owns you. And, when he is responded with the same question right back at him he secretly congratulates himself for getting under your skin.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who knows your weak points lets you walk away knowing very well that you will turn around to have a last glance at him. So, all he would do is not turn his gaze when you have already walked passed by him, so that when you turn around all he has to do is to grab your wrists above her head saying, “Answer me. I asked you a question. Do you or do you not regret it?”

+. ex!husband aizen souske who is currently inches apart from you, staring right into your eyes while you squirm and look away but his hold on you grows only stronger when he sees your beautiful eyes glistening more than it usually does, perhaps he scared you a bit, cocks his head to a side, in the dip of your neck inhaling her scent murmuring, “Still wearing that perfume I gifted you, huh ?”

+. ex!husband aizen souske who is absorbed in the good old memories of you, your scent, and what he used to do whenever you used to cry and look sad is now slowly curling his arms around your waist while his lips drag from the corner of your lips to the neckline and then on to collar bones.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who smirks the moment he hears you moaning, even if it's feeble he lets go of her hands so that you can rest them over his shoulders while he could carry her to the nearby cupboard top to make you feel less lonely. He has fucked her there, made babies with her and he can do it again.

+. ex!husband aizen souske who could already feel you gripping the collar of his suit while he presses his hard-on against your entrance is already marking all the way up your exposed neckline so that whenever you meet with your new young boyfriend, he would take the hint right away. There is no way he is losing to a mere boy like Gin Ichimaru. He has to be the better one.

– @tokyometronetwork & @underratedcharactercorner

@semisgroupie & @sailewhoremoon ( cuz you two like himmm ... that's why I tagged?! )

[letarasstuff]

Female Rage

(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.

Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.

Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not he’ll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)’s face.

Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasn’t always easy and especially since puberty started it’s becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.

“What’s with me today?” She asks him in an incredulous tone. “With me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshit”

(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.

“For real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I don’t know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.

“Our bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.

“And for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you weren’t able to attribute it to a woman?!

“But what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.

I don’t wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those “pick me” girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.

“The baseline is wanting to be different from the “typical girl”, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that I’m dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?

“Men apparently, because they don’t want a different girl. They don’t want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They don’t want to be confronted with problems. That’s why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.

“And this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I don’t talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. I’m talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.

“So where do men get their audacity?!”

Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.

Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.

“Uhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?” He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.

“TO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!”

(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.

“I apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. It’s nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. It’s not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.

“Nothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. It’s not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to “make sure you really mean it”.

“I can’t do anything right now that will satisfy you.

“But I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where it’s due and try to be the best feminist I can be.

But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?”

A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.

“Yes, I promise, I’ll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, I’ll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,” (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.

The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.

If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.

All works:

@venomsvl @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27 @bibissparkles

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

General Spencer Reid:

@mayoanddelight (sunny, you seriously need to tell me when you change your url, this list had such an old one in it)

[bookofbonbon]

the ground beneath our feet - aemond targaryen.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader (third person - no name used).

Warnings: Mention of suicide. Angst.

Summary: Your relationship with Aemond has fallen apart as the war wages on and you remain his prisoner.

Prompts: My love for you is as firm as the ground we stand on (Mary & George 2024).

Word Count: 863.

The hem of her dress dragged heavily across the darkened sand. The treacherous sea binding itself to the satin material as it rose to the bottom of her calves, reaching higher and higher as the tide came in. Each step harder than the last as her bare feet sunk further into the unsteady ground. With the shore disappearing, every new current was stronger than the last and threatened to drag her under if she wasn’t careful. 

But careful she was. Though she loved the sea as every Velaryon before her and now has, death by drowning was not high on her list of ways to die. Although, in times - such as right now - when she found herself under the steady gaze of her estranged husband, she wondered if she might let the sea consume her out of spite. Alas, it was too late as sand turned to stone beneath her feet.

Beginning her barefoot ascent to Dragonstone, she walked carefully as she made her way back to the looming castle, weary of the deep cracks in the foundation as the stone crumbled and created an uneven ground of the eroding path.

Careful more so, however, of the Targaryen Prince awaiting her company on the first landing of many. 

“Must you come out here every day?” Aemond drawls once she is within ear shot. 

Quick to anger, she feels her ears grow hot as her head snaps up from the ground. Gaze finally meeting that of the man who insisted on stalking her every move. Not once could he allow her to suffer his presence in silence. There was always something to be said. 

“Must you follow me out here every day? I’m not a child, you need not watch over me as if I am one.”

Her fury however, is met with indifference as Aemond regards her coolly. The one-eyed Prince having grown accustomed to her anger-fuelled outbursts at him- of course, that didn’t make them hurt any less. But, she was predictable and always ready to be angry with him and despite his efforts, there was no balm he could give to soothe it. So, if her anger remained the one thing that she would give then Aemond would take as much of it as he could get.  

“Had you not gotten into the habit of wading further and further into the sea, gazing longingly upon its depths as if you may opt into disappearing into it at any given moment then perhaps I would not feel the need to supervise you as if you were one.” 

There's a beat of silence. A flicker of hurt in her now glassy eyes that she tries to wash away with a thick swallow that Aemond tracks with his one good eye. He didn't like her hurt, he didn't want her pain.

“So, the sooner you begin acting within reason, the sooner you will be left to your own devices. It really is that simple,” he finishes in the hopes of raising her temper but, it does more of the opposite. 

She visibly flinches, Aemond’s dismissiveness of her suffering hitting the soft spot in the back of her throat. 

"Is it?" The question catches him by surprise, his back straightening as he stares unblinking at her. She hadn't endeavoured to ask him anything more than a mocking retort of his own questions since the war started but, there was a sincerity to her voice that demanded an answer. "Is it really that simple?"

“It is.”

Another beat as she silently regards him. 

“Do you love me still?” 

Aemond’s eyebrows furrow, scar pulling inward from the motion as he takes offense at the question. 

“Still? I never stopped. My love for you has always been as firm as the ground we stand on. It is yo-”

“So if you claim to love me so, then am I your prisoner or am I your guest?”

“Guest,” he speaks too fast, lying without thinking. 

“Guest?" she smiles sadly. "Guests may leave as they please, so can I? Can I leave as I please?”

Aemond’s throat dries. The question hangs heavy in the space between them as he flounders for something to say, mouth agape but no sound coming out; the winds whistle and the crashing of the waves the only thing to be heard.

“Answer me, Aemond.” 

The shake of his head is slight but not un-noticeable. 

Aemond didn’t want her pain but it is all he got as it spills over and onto her cheeks.

"I take no pleasure in your captivity," Aemond tells her softly.

But then a sound, a sound he had not heard for a long time - a laugh. It’s slight and it's broken and it's watery and one clearly reserved only for herself but, a laugh nonetheless as she gestures to the ground around them. 

At the deep cracks in the foundation, at the fragile stones that bowed and bent and broke and created an uneven and unstable ground of the eroding path with each passing day.

“Look around you, Aemond,” she sighs. The same sad smile stretched across her lips. “The ground is not firm, it has crumbled beneath our very feet.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I love jack so so much he's perfect but tbh I do think it would've worked much more with the show if he was a destiel baby instead of lucifer's. and I'm not just saying that as a shipper or whatever I mean narratively it would've been a lot cleaner- and actually, I think it would've been super funny to no-homo them creating a baby together, like, literally all they would have to do is say "oh, when cas rebuilt dean after hell he accidentally left some grace tangled in his soul, and every time he's healed him since then it's been growing stronger until a nephilim was born". like yes the studio is homophibic etc etc but all the jokes they'd make about dean being spiritually pregnant would be very funny for me personally.

but ANYWAY, jack's story gets messy and convoluted and I think this would've been like...a simple fix. them worrying about him going dark side could be because they're worried how demon!dean and lucifer!cas affected him in development, the show LOVES bloodline drama, chuck's wanting abraham and issac 2.0 would've worked better this way, dean's storyline with him would be improved, bc rather than 'oh no I slowly but surely emotionally adopted the antichrist' like I think he would've had an easier time clocking his john-behavoir if it wasn't a question whether he was jack's dad or not. plus last time dean actively raised a kid he went to great lengths to keep the supernatural away from him, so it'd be interesting to see how he handles a kid he CANT possibly hide from this part of his life. it would make more sense why michael wanted jack as a vessel- yes obviously he wanted the nephilim power boost but also having him as part of the winchester bloodline, making him a PERFECT vessel he doesn't have to worry about burning up would add a lot. we could also use this argument for why lucifer is so interested in him if anyone actually liked that plotline in season 14 lmao. we know chuck hated cas and dean's relationship, could you imagine if he checked in and found out they made an unauthorized baby together💀 like that really would've given better context for why he hates jack so much. cas wouldn't need that whole weird brainwashing arc to wanna protect unborn jack, PLUS it could've been an interesting source of angst for him- he feels like he's failed once again, creating an abomination and putting dean in danger, but also still loves jack immensely. it'd be so good! also imagine how fucking stressed out heaven would be to find out a mini castiel is on the way. they wouldn't even wanna exploit that kid for power they'd be preemptively treating the headaches they know they're gonna get lmfao.

also. the casting directors literally put jensen and misha into a face morph app and cast the first actor they could find that matched the results. which would've made more sense if,,,,he was just Theirs. the comedy of dean and cas making a baby before either of them managed to admit their feelings to each other would be more fun then the "dude adopted a kid and pawns him off on his unwilling roommate's all the time and they eventually warm up to the kid" storyline we actually got. we also could've replaced some of the jack-dean angst from the show with "dean wants to connect more with jack but he feels shut out whenever cas is around bc he can't relate to any angel stuff so obviously jack's going to cas for help more!", which I think would be interesting!! how AWFUL dean and cas would feel that jack didn't feel safe enough to be a baby. dad!sam is still in full swing but he cares for jack right off the bat instead of trying to use him for his powers at first. lily sunder talking about how cas killed her kid bc he thought it was a nephilim and dean, who's already fully aware he's (spiritually) knocked up by cas is like 👹 inch resting cas-tee-elle tell me more. mary having a 'my baby has a baby' crisis. cas insisting jack looks nothing like him is a running joke but then at some point he explains its bc jack's 'true form' looks just like dean's soul....

ALSO- in a show where, canonically, the very first act of free will was cas falling in love with dean...the physical manifestation of that defeating chuck and taking his place as god? come ON.

[moris-auri]

Heaven is not fit (to house a love like you and I)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Baela Targaryen

Summary: The war, bloody and devastating, is over. Having bested his uncle over the God's Eye, Aemond returns to King’s Landing and to his elder brother.

But his victory is short-lived when Aegon dies in 131 A.C. without an heir. After more than a half year of peace, the realm is thrown into chaos once again. Made to choose a bride after having the ruby studded crown of Aegon I placed on his head and made King, Aemond chooses his cousin, Baela Targaryen.

And Baela Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, grows more than fond of saying "Fuck the realm."

WC: 8k

Beta'd by @vampire-exgirlfriend ILYSM Alex ❤️❤️

Warnings: NSFW 18+, spoilers for Fire and Blood (A Song of Ice and Fire)

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

The title sits like ash in her mouth, lingering on her tongue like sour, spoiled wine. It had ever since her arrival nearly three days prior; carried from the ship that had brought her from Driftmark to the Red Keep, she has done little else but think about it, over and over and over again.

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Her conviction only grows stronger each time the thought comes, her conviction that becoming his wife and Queen is the very last thing she wants. That Aemond is quite possibly the one person in all the realm she despises. She has still not forgotten the things he'd said and done in the past, the half-sullen, half-angry boy he'd been in their youth. She has not forgotten the words he had spat so cruelly in the tunnel the night he claimed Vhagar just after her mother's funeral, the same night Luke cut out his eye. Has not forgotten his toast to Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey the night her father took Vaemond Velaryon's head, nor has she forgotten the manner of Luke and Arrax's deaths over Shipbreaker Bay.

She's had dreams sometimes of what it would have been like to be Jacaerys' queen, late at night when she could not find sleep and spent half the night tossing and turning in her bed. Dreams that were hauntingly vivid, things of what could have been if he had survived the Gullet. Glimpses of what it might have been like if war had not broken out, damaging the realm so much it was near irreparable in some places.

But he had not.

None of them had, save for herself, Aemond, Rhaena and little Aegon.

If only her uncle were here to see the utter ruin of their House, what their family had become. The Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided.

Divided indeed.

It's almost laughable, she cannot help but think, letting out a faint, mirthless huff of laughter, how the might and entirety of House Targaryen- a line going back to the Dragonlords of Old Valyria, was now all but wiped out in less than five years. And over a chair no less.

"I've been looking for you, girl."

The sound of her grandfather's voice from behind her drew her back to the present, his tone sounding sterner than she can ever remember it being.

"You've found me, grandfather," she said testily, resisting the desire to roll her eyes as she stood, still facing the windows of her chamber that overlooked the city, arms crossed over her chest, fighting the urge to shout her fury.

His voice came again, but she didn't catch whatever he said. Except for one word.

Husband.

"I won't do it," she says as she shakes her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, not caring in the slightest if he thinks she seems petulant as she squashes the desire to toss her head back and laugh, instead savoring the bite of pain that ricochets up her arms when she presses her nails into the skin of her palms. "Let Rhaena wed him."

Silence.

She immediately regrets it, feeling the guilt rise inside her, chasing the anger away like a tide. She knows as well as he does that the pit of snakes and rats that the royal court is would eat her twin alive and spit out her bones. "He's a kinslayer," she says instead, a not so small trace of bitterness lingering in her voice, "Or have you forgotten how he murdered Luke?"

"I have not. But he is king now." her grandsire reminds sharply, disapproval rolling off him in waves. "This realm has seen enough war and bloodshed, child."

Baela feels her cheeks heat at the chastisement, clenching her hands into fists at her sides again. "I won't do it," she repeats, but she can feel how futile her protests are even as she says it. She doesn't want this fate; the fate of so many women before her. She feels her eyes begin to sting then, the unwanted thought of what a Queen's duty was bouncing around inside her head, bile rising to the back of her throat. Would her fate be the same as her mother's? As Queen Aemma's?

Corlys sighs, the sound almost as heavy as the hand he places on her shoulder. "You'll be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, girl. Be grateful."

"Be grateful?" she says incredulously as she whirls around to glare at him, her anger returning stronger than it had before. "Be grateful? For being bartered off like a chest of riches?"

His face tightens, his hand falling back to his side. "Be grateful," he adds gruffly. "That the king has chosen you."

She snorted derisively. "As if you gave him any other option. I know he only chose me because you dangled me before him like bait." She hisses the words at him spitefully, eyes narrowed. "I wish Father had killed him," she added vindictively as an afterthought.

"Enough of this," he grounds out, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You will. For the good of the realm."

"Fuck the realm." She says again. A final, futile effort to stop this.

"Baela!" His voice grows in volume, in frustration, all but bordering on a bellow. She doesn't so much as flinch, bold and willful thing that she is. Her mouth twists, blood roaring in her veins. She opens her mouth, but closes it just as fast when he sends her a warning glance.

You will marry him.

"Now," Corlys cleared his throat. "He requests your presence in the Small Council chamber."

"Now? But I'm-" she glanced down at herself, a thread of panic entering her voice.

"You look fine," Corlys said, as if he could sense her panic. The reassurance in his voice does little to calm her, though, made clear in the look etched on her face. "Now come," he said, steering her forward with a hand against her back.

**

She's barely been in the room for a minute before she feels the weight of Aemond's gaze land on her, the burning intensity of it making the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She swallowed then, tucking away the unsure part of herself, pushing back the sliver of self preservation that reared its head in recognition that she was no longer the only dragon in the room, the sliver that felt like she could potentially even be prey when in his presence. The eyes she fixed him with then were hard, the weakness she resented shoved down deep within her, eagerly ignored.

She cannot help but admit how much he looks like a king in that moment, with his spine as stiff as a board and his hands clasped together before him in an almost penitent manner that was at odds with the unreadable expression on his face. The blank, carefully crafted expression on his face that made her feel disconcerted, wary and ill at ease at not being able to tell what he was thinking or what he was feeling. Did he hate this farce as much as she did? This plan to mend the shattered, broken shards their family had become? Or did he want it more than he let on?

And if he did, why?

"Cousin," her soon to be husband says from where he sits at the head of the long table, his hands clasped together in front of him. "Sit," he murmurs, the command clear when he gestures towards the vacant chair to his right. She does so without a word, but not before glancing at her grandfather, who only nodded at her with a look of pride on his face.

"Cousin," she returns once she's situated, her tone bordering on saccharine and falsely sweet as she forces herself to remain at ease, to remain calm and not spit a slew of curses at him when the rage in her eyes did not affect him in the slightest.

She ripped her gaze away from his face, sliding upwards before stopping, her lips parting as her gaze landed on the crown situated atop his head, the crown that had once sat on his brother's head. The sole ruby in the center winks in the light, the valyrian steel surrounding it looking almost black despite the sun shining into the room.

"What are your plans for the ceremony, Your Grace?" her grandfather interrupts after a long moment, elbows resting on the edge of the table as he leans forward.

Her gaze drops back to Aemond's face at the sound of the low hum he lets out in response to the question, watching as he presses his steepled fingers against his mouth, as if in thought. "In the Old Valyrian way, of course," he responds, casting a fleeting look her way, his gaze searching, before averting his eye almost nervously.

‘Let him be nervous,’ she thinks almost vindictively, feeling her mouth twitch in response. He says something else that she doesn't catch entirely, listening with one ear as they speak of other things pertaining to the realm that she knows she should care about but cannot bring herself to truly care about.

Not yet at least.

Her mind drifts to thoughts of her father as she tunes the sound of their voices out, knowing without a doubt how he'd make no attempt to show or let his obvious disapproval at this be known if he were here. Pain lanced through her at the thought of him, chased by the knowledge that he would never speak again. That she would never see his face or hear his voice again - not in this life, at least. Not when he was nothing more than a decaying corpse at the bottom of the God's Eye now.

"What say you, cousin?" Aemond asks as he leans closer to her, the sound of his voice dragging her back to the present. "The way of our House? Or the way of the Seven?"

"Excuse me?"

"For the ceremony," he repeated steadily as he met her gaze. His expression had gone unreadable again, save for the slight tightening around his mouth, the sound of his fingers drumming against the table drifting towards her.

Baela felt her cheeks go hot as her eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the question. She swallowed her sudden apprehension as she opened her mouth to respond, a memory of the day her father had married Rhaenyra in the traditional Valyrian way resurfacing.

He was asking her what she wanted.

She hesitated a moment before biting her lip, her heart pounding behind her ribs. She stiffened her shoulders as she looked up at him from under her lashes, her mind made up. If she was to do this, she'd do it in a way she knew would've made the Rogue Prince proud.

"The Valyrian way."

**

The day of her marriage comes a week after her arrival and she wants nothing more than to scream. The bedchamber that is hers now has been a hive of activity for the last several hours, the space full of chatter from a handful of different voices, namely those of the seamstresses and the Dowager Queen.

She has seen neither hide nor hair of Alicent Hightower since she stepped foot into the Keep over a week ago, though she had heard far and few in between whispers from the servants. Spun tales of a bereaved, grief stricken Dowager Queen who had retreated to her bedchamber after losing almost everything but the son that now sat the Iron Throne.

She had not put much stock in them before, but the sight of her soon to be good-mother is more than enough to make her believe them. She remembered the woman who had sat at her Uncle's left, glowing and resplendent in rich green and gold, hair laying across her shoulders in a sheet of burnished auburn waves.

There is hardly a trace of that woman now.

Now Alicent Hightower is pale, drawn and almost ghostly. Her hair is done plainly, an unadorned braid wrapped around her head, her dress a shade of black that seemed to swallow her whole, making her look slight and diminutive. That had been another thing she had heard, her complete disavowal of wearing anything made in the colors of her House, and as much as she does not want to pity her soon to be goodmother, she cannot help it.

Drawn from her reverie, Baela turns her head at the sound of the head seamstress clearing her throat, her gaze falling to the final part of the ornate robes the woman held in her hands. Resisting the desire to roll her eyes, Baela made a motion with one hand, beckoning the woman forward without a word.

Rhaena only had to take one look at her face as soon as the final clasp on the bodice was closed, no doubt catching the steadily heightening agitation brewing like a storm cloud in her eyes, a wordless communication passing between them. "Leave us," she says sharply as she stands from the chair she had been sitting in since early this morning, the hem of her dress soundless on the flagstones as she neared.

If there was one good thing to this, it was that she still had her sister at her side as a pillar of support. Everytime she had thought about it, about being alone in this cesspool with only the distant attention of her grandfather, she felt dread churn low in her stomach. And so it had been the one thing she'd refused to budge on. 'If I must do this,' she had said to their grandfather the second night, the look in her eyes daring him to argue with her, 'I will have her with me.'

Baela shot a fierce, withering glare at the servant who wavered by the door, the order to get out burning in her gaze. "By the gods-" she mutters the instant the chamber is fully empty, her chamber now, she thought belatedly as she rolled her shoulders in an effort to lessen the tension. She could already feel the weight of the robes she wore bearing her down like an anchor, stifling and heavy; as did the ornate headpiece, brought from Dragonstone on such short notice. She reached up to tug on it, only to let out a startled yelp when Rhaena smacked her hands away with a glare. You'll mess it up, her sister's eyes seemed to say.

Baela scowled at her as she rubbed at the now stinging skin, but let them fall to her side nonetheless, her head twisting to the side a minute later at the sound of knocking, followed by a voice partially muffled by the thick wood of the door. "Are you ready, Your Grace?"

She let out a breath as she dropped her hands to her sides. She was not ready, and she doubted she ever would be but she raised her voice nonetheless, just loud enough to let her reply carry the distance to where the servant could hear her clearly. She glanced down one final time, inhaling a breath as she steeled herself silently, the thump of her heart as loud as a drum in her ears.

"You look beautiful, sister," Rhaena murmured, as if she sensed the conflict raging beneath her skin.

"As do you," Baela said as she shot her a grateful smile, squeezing her fingers gently. She let go of Rhaena's fingers a minute or two later as she pulled away, smoothing her palms over the stiff cloth, exchanging one last glance with her before stepping past her and out into the corridor.

**

The ride to the Dragonpit was torturous, and she hated it.

Her previously half pleasant mood was gone, having vanished like smoke what felt like ages ago, replaced with irritation and the steadily growing urge to snap at someone, despite the fact that it was only herself and Rhaena in the wheelhouse, a fact she cannot help but be grateful for.

"If I must suffer one more-" she all but snarled as she grit her teeth each time the wheels of the wheelhouse jostled over the uneven streets the closer and closer they got to the Dragonpit. Or what was left of it, half demolished as it was now.

Her hands dropped to her lap, resting one over the other as she began twisting the gold ring around the fourth finger of her left hand in a nervous tic.

"At least we're almost there," Rhaena murmured half under her breath from the seat across from her, an attempt at placating her, leaning forward to rest a hand on her arm. Baela made a wordless sound of agreement in her throat as she turned her head to the side, blinking every time sunlight filtered in through the star-shaped holes. Rhaena opened her mouth to say something else, but Baela had turned away, in no mood to hear another word.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, save for the jubilant sounds of shouting from the people lining the streets on either side of the carriage. "Gods above-," she grumbled out in relief when she felt the wheelhouse rock to a stop, seeing stars as she raised her hand to her eyes to block out the glare of the sun, the sight of their grandsire standing hardly more than a foot away, the Velaryon seahorse stitched out in silver thread, bright against the dark hue of his tunic.

"Grandfather," she greeted shortly as she stepped down, ignoring the hand he had extended towards her, exhaling when both her feet were flat on the ground.

"Granddaughter," he said gruffly in response as he set his hands on her shoulders, tilting his head to look her in the eye. She squinted against the sun as she tipped her head back to look up at him, caught off guard by the odd look in his eyes, one that she did not know what to think of.

"If only Rhaenys and Laena could see you now," he murmured, his words doing little except to startle her further, "They'd be so very proud of you. I know it."

Blinking in surprise at the mention of her mother and grandmother, Baela felt the pricking, tell-tale sting of tears in the corners of her eyes as his words sunk in. She opened her mouth as if to speak, a question on the tip of her tongue, but he turned away before she could.

She knew he grieved for his wife as she and Rhaena did, mourning her in his own way. He fell silent again, the look in his eyes turning into something more scrutinizing, as if he was studying her. "His Grace is waiting," was all he said, his voice turning brusque once more, brooking no room for an argument. Baela watched him go silently, the broad width of his back filling her vision as he ascended the steps of the Dragonpit before disappearing inside.

**

"Ābrazȳrys." Her husband's tone is cold and flat, carrying nary a trace of affection- not that she expects him to have any.

Husband.

It still felt more than strange to call him that, the sole word as foreign to her as anything, even though it's been a month since their marriage. No matter how fervently she wishes to forget, she can still remember some parts of the ceremony as clear as day. She doubted she ever would now, not with the way they all but clung to her like shadows in the back of her mind.

The feeling of the dragonglass Aemond had pressed to her lip and to the skin of her palm. The sharp pain that had followed it and the iron smell of the blood that welled in its wake. The look in his eye when he had drawn the Valyrian glyph for fire on her forehead. The look on his face when she had done the same to him, the glyph for blood standing out as red as garnets against his skin.

"What do you want?" she demands of him, knowing what he'll say anyway. She braces her weight on her elbows as she looks towards where he stands in the doorway, not missing the way he's still wearing the same tunic he had been earlier.

Aemond frowned at her words, a crease forming between his brows. "We must do this for the realm-" he starts to say, his voice now carrying a steely edge. "Our duty-"

He was standing close enough for her ears to pick up the breath he let out, the sound long and slow- a sign of his growing agitation. Baela fought the urge to smile as she half turned on her side to face him, her shift slipping down her shoulder. "Damn the realm," she said viciously as she all but bared her teeth at him like some wild beast.

Even with the urgings of the Small Council, as well as those of her grandfather and his mother, she had hardly, if any desire to know him. "I do not want you here. So go away," she repeated, her voice little more than a snap now, doing her hardest to ignore the heat crawling up her spine, more than acutely aware of his stare, feeling the heavy weight of his gaze burning into her skin. "You're more than welcome to go slake your lust elsewhere, husband."

He retreated a step or two at her words, a wounded look darting across his face.

"Another day," he said finally, when she didn't relent, making his way towards the door.

She ignores him anyway.

**

"Cousin."

Rhaena's head lifted at the sound of Aemond’s voice, eyes trailing to fall on his expression.

Even from this far, she could taste the tension all but oozing from him like wine overflowing from a cask, his brow furrowed, his mouth turned down in a frown, as if something was troubling him. He looked half out of place in her chamber, looking rather like an inkblot, the dark of his tunic and his breeches standing out against the lighter, paler colors.

"Ae-"

No, she could not call him Aemond- not anymore at least. He was the King now, and her sister's husband to boot. "Your Grace," she says cautiously, setting aside her book as she rises to her feet. "Is there something I might-"

He cuts her off before she can finish speaking, his eye darting around her chambers before settling on her face. "Your sister," he all but blurts out, before clearing his throat, spots of color infusing along his cheekbones. "Baela," he amends as he twists his arms behind his back. "I…I do not know what to do. She-"

Rhaena tilted her head as she studied him, her gaze as sharp as a knife's edge, more than aware of how he seemed almost nervous, her good-brother, flustered in a way she cannot remember ever seeing from him- not even when they'd been children.

"What have you tried, Your Grace?"

"I-" he seemed to stumble over the word, glancing up at her before dropping his gaze downward to his feet. Rhaena watched as he removed his crown, holding it with one hand as he ran the other over his hair, sending the pale silver-gold strands further into a state of dishevelment.

"My sister is being unfair," she admitted, feeling a faint pity for him. "But she is headstrong, willful and proud. She always has been."

"You do know her best," he murmured quietly as he met her stare, a sliver of light skirting over his face in a way that illuminated the smudged, half-moon shadow under his eye. Her pity for him grew, though she kept it to herself as she nodded wordlessly, gaze dropping down to his boots, a slew of thoughts churning in her skull.

"If I might speak freely, Your Grace?"

He nodded, the bobbing of his almost eager in a way. "Please."

Rhaena hesitated. "She likes hawking," she said finally as she bit her lip in thought, "And riding. We used to do it on Dragonstone when the weather was favorable."

He nodded again, humming as he listened to her, a resolve growing in his eye.

His eye met hers then, an unspoken agreement passing between them. Baela would no doubt be angered by this, but her anger would fade, it had to- for the good of the realm. Rhaena let a half rueful grin form on her lips, practically able to hear the sound of her sister's voice in her mind, seething and laden with fury, as well as the saying she had taken to like a fish to water.

Fuck the realm.

"Thank you, goodsister," he said lastly, half turned towards the door. Rhaena dipped her head, the sound of her braids sliding over her shoulders filling her ears.

She could only hope that it would work.

**

And it does.

As one turn of the moon becomes two, then three, the change within the Keep grows more than noticeable with each day that passes, much to the relief of them all.

**

They have been married for four moons when Baela enters his chambers, crossing the room in several short strides to stand before him, arms folded behind her back, tapping the heel of her riding boots on the flagstones, her stare lingering on the sight of his bowed head, unused to the sight of him without the crown, his hair falling loose and unbound over his shoulders. She does not blame him though, not really, not when she knows the weight of it.

"Will you take me flying? On Vhagar?"

Aemond's head lifted at the sound of her voice, grinning softly at the sight of her before him. "Hello to you too," he murmured as a greeting.

"Well?" she asked again, more than a little impatient now, rocking forward then backward on the balls of her feet. She could not help but think of her own dragon then, pretty Moondancer, who had perished during the fall of Dragonstone, and even thinking about her now felt like a shard of glass embedded in her chest, like a phantom limb, the pain of which would never truly go away.

Aemond's stare only seemed to grow sharper the longer he held her gaze, searching and almost intrusive in a way, as if he meant to cut her open from the base of her throat to navel, and Baela cannot help but shiver faintly at the thought of it. “Why do you want to go so badly?” he countered, voice laden with suspicion as he stands, unfolding himself from the chair behind the desk with a languid, effortless grace.

“Can I not wish to spend the day with you?” She grins, her tone taking on a teasing edge as she stared down the bridge of her nose at him. Or tried to at least, the action made all the harder by the inches he had over her. He only hums as he raises an eyebrow, standing near enough to where the ends of his boots touch her own.

She can practically feel the heat bleeding through his clothes, the blood of the dragon running hot indeed, she muses. His breath fans across her face softly, still smelling of the baked apples soaked in honey they'd broken their fast on hours before.

"I cannot simply abandon my duties to go flying. The realm-"

She huffs a laugh, raking one hand through the braid Rhaena had been successful in wrangling her curls into. "Fuck the realm. It can spare you for half a day. I am your wife and I wish to go flying with you." She says as she stares at him, daring him to protest more.

"Very well," he relented with a sigh, turning his head to the side to glance back to the stacked parchment on his desk.

She fought the desire to grin victoriously.

**

Her lips parted slightly at the sight of Vhagar before her, little opaque wisps of smoke coming from her nostrils as she slumbered.

Since the war had ended, she'd taken to sleeping more and more, her chosen resting spot the patches of now flattened grass just beyond the city gates. One of her eyes opened as they neared, the great orange pupil surveying them.

Aemond's shoulder brushed against her own as he moved forward, "Lykiri, Vhagar," he murmured as he laid his hand flat on her snout, the sight making the sliver of affection that had lodged in her chest grow, warmth pooling low in her stomach.

Aemond stretched out his other hand to her, the look in his eye almost gentle. "Come."

Baela stared up at him, hesitating for a moment, before she edged forward, keeping one eye trained on Vhagar as she slid her hand in his, letting him pull her up. She let out a sound, one as close to unbridled delight as Vhagar began to lumber forwards, each flap of her wings sending them higher and higher into the sky. She let her eyes fall shut at the feel of the wind whipping through her silver curls, lashing like shards of ice against her cheeks, the space all around them empty save for clouds and the blue of the open sky stretching as far as she could see.

It was peaceful, flying on dragonback this high up, so much so where she could almost forget anything and everything that was happening miles below her. Her breath hitched in her chest at the feel of Aemond tightening his hold on her, the arm he'd wound around her waist before they'd left the ground growing almost impossibly tighter, constricting like a serpent.

The aquiline slope of his nose nudged against her cheek as she half turned her head to the side, the sound of him muttering something against her skin drowned out by the shrill whistle of the wind, his words faint enough for her to miss, too distracted as she was by the sound of his breath against the shell of her ear. By the steady rise and fall of his chest behind her and the feel of his lean frame, a hard line at her back.

"Look," he rasped, his voice coming louder this time as he raised a hand from the ropes, applying the faintest bit of pressure on her face to turn her head forward again. They were still flying, but it wasn't the city under them anymore. Instead it was the coastline and the familiar waters of Blackwater Bay, the almost dirty gray hue of the water lit gold by the sun, and her eyes widened at the sight before her.

It was beautiful.

Startled, Baela shrieked when Aemond's hand tightened on the reins, angling them downward into a nosedive. She let out a sharper sound when Vhagar leveled, angling to the right, one wing brushing the water's surface and sending a spray of water into the air.

Full of exhilaration, she felt a laugh bubble up in her chest, blood roaring in her ears.

Oh, how she had missed this.

**

They had returned to the Keep just after the sun had set, the almost rose hue that had made the houses and buildings of the city all but glow fading as the sky darkened to the familiar indigo of the approaching twilight, the two of them windblown and stinking of dragon.

The servants had needed no further warning before a line of them entered one after the other, bringing in bucketfuls of steaming water. Baela had watched them fill the gleaming copper tub almost impassively, arms folded across her chest as she had waited until the last one had left before turning her focus back to where Aemond had sat in one of the chairs situated around the hearth.

His hair gleamed, shadows from the flames highlighting the angles and lines of his cheekbones, dancing across his face. She drew herself up tall, spine going taut like a drawn bowstring as she stared at him, desire pooling low in her belly.

"Aemond…" she crooned from where she stood, still wearing the black dragon riding robes she had earlier, her desire clear. "Are you going to fuck me now, husband?"

His head snapped towards her, half startled. His eye narrowed, lust warring with suspicion on his face, his fingers flexing against the arms of the chair. "You-"

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" She cannot help but say snidely, watching his pupils dilate as she loosened the lacing on the front. "You're too far away." Come closer, she does not say.

He shot to his feet, not needing another word of encouragement. Baela shivered as he stalked towards her, the almost predatory hunger burning in his eye. He had the singular ability to make her feel exposed now, cut open and laid bare before him.

Weak.

Soft.

A mockery of everything she was. Everything she wasn’t.

His jaw clenched each time she took a step backwards, the predatory look in his eye morphing into something more dangerous, a wicked smirk cutting across his mouth as he followed her, stopping when the backs of her legs hit the bed.

His hands fell to rest on the curve of her waist, standing out stark and pale against the night-dark fabric of her riding tunic. Baela pushed at his chest slightly, scarcely daring to breathe as he drew even closer, resting one hand on her neck. Her fingers closed around his wrist loosely, every brush of his thumb over her skin making her breath catch in her throat.

She felt warmth heat her cheeks, taking the opportunity to look up at him from under her lashes, wondering if he could feel her pulse thrumming under her flesh. She watched him as he took a half step closer, his eye darting from her eyes to her mouth and back again. It almost seemed like he was just as nervous as she was, but she did not put much stock into it.

She trembled, half out of fear or something else she could not name, tentatively flattening her hands to his chest, feeling the muscle lurking beneath the surface shift under her palms as she stilled, the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

He pushed at her riding clothes roughly, sliding the fabric down her arms before tossing the garment away blindly, his breathing seeming to grow shallower as his face lowered to loom mere inches from her own, his fingers disappearing into the curtain of her curls before kissing her again. Baela moaned against his mouth, her fingernails leaving half moons in the leather of his tunic.

He let out a low noise as her legs lifted then, wrapping around the narrow line of his waist, the sound hovering halfway between a snarl and a groan that had the coil at the base of her spine tightening. "You are a wicked temptress," he groaned again, eye closing at the feel of her pressing kisses to the side of his neck.

She reached for his eyepatch then, fingers stilling mere inches from it, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Aemond nodded, wordlessly bobbing his head, his hand splayed flat against her back.

Her fingers brushed over the raised skin of his scar, skirting upwards to slip beneath the square of leather before gently tugging it from his head. The sapphire in his eye socket was more lovely than she wanted to admit, glittering at her as it did now in the low light.

She traced the planes of his face, her touch gentle and as soft as a feather. Was he surprised by it? Surprised that she could be gentle with him? That she wanted to be? Her eyes slide over him, all but devouring the way he is almost beautiful. She kissed him again, her lips brushing across his own.

Aemond hisses quietly, a breath rattling from between his clenched teeth as she does. The sound is as loud as a dragon's roar in her ear, and were it not for the near-nonexistent distance between them, she's more than certain she would not have heard it.

His eye followed the path of her fingers, watching as they dropped lower and lower before coming to rest at the laces of his breeches, nostrils flaring with each breath, the sensation of her fingers brushing feather-light across his stomach almost too much to bear.

She glanced up at him from under her lashes, a half coy smirk lifting one side of her mouth up.

Tormenting him. Taunting him.

His eye trailed up again, the sight that greeted him made his cock ache all the more. He pressed closer, his lips dragging down the line of her throat, vaguely aware of her fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders, the distraction of her kiss overpowering any rational thought he might have previously had.

"Only a dragon can love a dragon, Aemond. And you are mine."

Aemond moans in her ear at that, his fingers tightening on her hips, bruising almost. He could barely breathe, dizzy and almost breathless as the potent, rich smell of her all but ingrained itself into his senses so very thoroughly, like an insect burrowing into the ground. “If you want me to stop,” he rasped, feeling his heart slamming against his ribcage, “Tell me.” His voice was a low murmur in her ear, his breath fanning hot by her ear as he trailed his hands down her sides.

“No,” she breathed, trying to press closer to him, feeling his cock hard against her belly. “Please, Aemond-” She nipped at his skin, a barely noticeable scrape of her teeth against his pulse point, grinning as she felt it jump beneath her lips. She kissed him again, and again, feeling her pulse fluttering under the thin as parchment skin of her wrists and her throat.

Aemond only chuckled, the vibration from it rolling through her, only to choke out a moan a second later, the noise weaving and twisting with hers.

**

They are married five moons when she blocks his exit from the council room with a hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump, thump, thump of it beneath her fingers.

She bit her lip as she held her breath, keeping her eyes trained on his face. "I'm with child."

His eye goes wide at her words, wider than she's ever seen it. She shifted on her feet, feeling the half elated sensation in her chest fading the longer he didn't speak.

"Truly?"

"Yes," Baela nodded, feeling the giddiness grow stronger, unfurling low in her belly like a ship's sail. "The maester confirmed it this morning."

A buoyant smile splits his face cheek to cheek. It was not the smirk she had all but grown used to seeing, a genuine one that stretched his lips, making his eye crease.

"Baela."

She stilled, the thought that this was the first time he's called her by her name echoing in her head as she turned to face him. "Say it again," she demanded.

"Baela," he repeated, drawing the word out slowly.

Between one blink and the next, she all but launched herself at him, twisting and coiling around him like a serpent around its prey. She thinks later that it was in that moment she could almost love him.

The news does not stay between them for long, and soon enough a feast is hastily prepared in celebration.

**

Glancing at Aemond from the corner of her eye, Baela could feel the tension thrumming under his skin, all but radiating from him in waves where he sat beside her, one hand curled loosely around his cup, his other tapping an almost agitated rhythm against the cloth covered table, the line of his shoulders stiff and his posture unrelenting.

She leaned closer, her hand grasping his arm as she arched upwards, ghosting her lips over his ear. "Dance with me," she murmured boldly, delighting internally when he stiffened at the contact.

"You know I abhor dancing, ñuha jorrāelagon."

Aemond’s voice is barely more than a whisper, low and hushed, in that manner that is entirely his own. It is a trait of his that she has grown rather fond of, his ability to not be one to speak when he did not need to, choosing instead to stay silent and observe those around him like a bird of prey.

"And you are-"

Her gaze sharpened, daring him to say it.

"Forgive me."

He must have sensed her irritation as not even a minute later she felt his hand settle on her thigh, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the fabric of her dress. She huffed under her breath, lips pressed together tightly. "I might," she says nonetheless, knowing full well the effect her words would have on him.

Sure enough, his hand tightens on her thigh, his touch turning slightly painful. She can feel the weight of his attention on the side of her face, not having to even turn her head to be able to tell his eye is heavy-lidded, his pupil no doubt swallowed and dark now.

"Do you think they'd notice? If we were to depart," she murmurs innocently, offhandedly, keeping her gaze straight ahead, pressing her lips together to repress a smile when the sound of his breathing changes, growing ragged and hoarse with each second.

**

They have been married for six moons now, and it is the first time she does not wake up alone.

"Good morning," she breathed quietly, watching as Aemond cracked an eye open, his breath little more than soft huffs of air against her face.

"You're watching me," he noted, his voice low and rasping, still carrying miniscule traces of sleep.

"Perhaps I like watching you, husband," she said in return, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear, letting the earthen smell of him envelop her then, the heat he radiated making their bed almost stiflingly hot.

His mouth twitched at her words, faint and almost hardly noticeable. There was a softness in his eye as he looked down at her, thumb swiping as light as a feather across her lower lip. “Gevie,” he murmured as he cradled her face between his palms,, the golden glow behind him caught in his hair, setting the pale strands alight.

"I love you," She breathed as she tugged his hand away from her face. She twined her fingers with his, turning his hand over to trail a nail over the lines in the center of his palm, lifting it to her lips, watching his expression as she did, knowing deep down that there was no going back.

Not now. Not ever.

**

More time passes, the months going by one after the other, her belly swelling until she cannot see her own feet. She has few visitors, not that she minds, having her twin and Aemond beside her more than enough. Though there had been times she'd been seconds away from snapping at him out of ire.

He is locked within the council chambers- has been since that morning, a fact that she is more than grateful for, to be honest. It is only Rhaena and one of her handmaidens now, both of them hardly breathing a word.

"Rhaena," she forces out, fighting to keep her face blank at the sharp bite of pain in her belly. "I think-" she does not have to say another word, watching with wide eyes as her sister scrambles to her feet.

"Should I-"

Baela nods, a single, sharp dip of her head.

**

She squeezes her eyes shut as she lets out a guttural breath from between clenched teeth and wishes the pain would stop.

"Push, Your Grace," the midwife ordered, not unkindly. Baela only glowered at her as she gritted her teeth, nostrils flaring with each inhale and exhale she took.

"Where is he?"

"He's outside, sister," Rhaena soothed, squeezing her fingers lightly. "Waiting."

"Bring him here," she growled, uncaring of the way the midwives exchanged slightly uneasy looks with each other. "Do it!" she all but snarled at them. They did, scattering like a flock of birds, one of them moving brusquely towards the doors.

"Aemond."

He moved towards her quickly, half settling beside her. "Ñuha jorrāelagon," he murmured as he clasped her hand in his, pressing his lips to her brow.

The midwife comes forward again, mouth opening to speak, though Baela hardly hears a word as she closed her eyes, hearing Aemond's sharp inhale of breath as she squeezed his hand, her nails leaving reddened marks in the shape of half moons in his skin. Time seemed to tick by as slow as a snail's pace before she let out another breath, her chest rising and falling quickly as she half slumped against his chest, tendrils of her sweat soaked silver hair clinging to the skin of her neck, hearing the wailing of not one babe two split the quiet like a crack of thunder.

"Twins, Your Grace."

"Let me see them," she said as she held her arms out.

**

"She looks like your mother," her grandfather says later, the tip of his finger tracing over her daughter's face from where he stood beside Rhaena. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Laena," she says softly, "Her name shall be Laena. For my mother." She half turned towards Aemond, a question lingering in the depths, "And Aegon for your brother?"

Aemond shook his head. "No," he echoed, feeling his throat tighten, "not Aegon. Daeron."

"Daeron," Baela murmured in agreement. "It's a strong name for your heir."

"It is," he agreed, albeit weakly from where he stood over her, his eye flicking from the newborn boy cradled in her arms to the girl resting in Rhaena's arms opposite him. The boy who was the spit of Aemond, right down to the shape of his eyes and the slope of his nose.

His son.

His daughter.

Twins.

He swallowed as he took a half step closer, keeping his eye trained on them. "May I?"

Baela's head snaps upward at the sound of his voice. "Are you truly asking to hold your own children?" she asked, an incredulous expression spreading across her face. She let out a laugh as he sent her a more than unamused look. "I jest, husband."

He only frowned at her, hardly looking convinced, but let it go anyway.

She shifted against the pillows, careful not to jostle their boy too much as she sat up straighter. "Here," she said, softer this time as she placed Daeron in his arms. She watched them carefully, not missing the way Aemond stiffened, watching with rapture as his son's eyes opened, already a light shade of purple.

"He has my father's eyes," she noted, drawing a finger over the skin of his cheek, meeting Aemond's gaze when he glanced up at her, a look in his eye that she'd never seen before.

Rhaena had been right that day, she couldn't help but think as she grinned at him. He had been trying to be a good husband to her, patient even when she rebuffed and refused him those early months, refusing to budge over and over and over again.

Or maybe she had been too prideful, too full of her own hubris and too blind to admit it.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

I Hope that you don't mind me requesting.

How do you think Archons would react if their lover was a crybaby? Like cries a lot over every little thing and overall is a realy sensitive person (totaly not me.)

I'm sorry if you don't feel comfortable writing for this, and you have the right to ignore this.

ah this was such an interesting idea tysm! and no, my writing does not depict my actual feelings. but thank you for your request, i hope you enjoy!

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, verbal abuse, mentions of manipulation tactics, archons being bad partners, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would think it’s cute and a little silly. He will never make fun of you for it, comforting you whenever you do cry, but he will certainly use it against you. You can’t go out by yourself, what happens if something startles you and you start crying? Who will be there to comfort you?

“Now now my little Brise, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You know how things turn out when you try to go out by yourself, just wait a few minutes and I’ll go with you.” Venti’s smile is a hard one to fight, the way his skin pulls perfectly away from his flawless teeth to create the most charming and heartwarming look. It would make you cry how perfect he is if he wasn’t designed to be that way. Everything about Venti was enough to bring up that urge to cry, how he never seemed to leave you alone, how he always seemed to talk too loudly indoors, how he seemed to draw everyone’s eye in public. It was frustrating trying to hold it all in around him, but any time he saw you in tears you’d be swept tightly into his embrace, one you had grown to hate.

Yandere!Zhongli would pity you, wanting you to toughen up emotionally for your own sake. While he’ll certainly outlive you, he can’t be by your side forever and always. To help keep you calm while he’s gone, as he still has duties outside of his previously abandoned Archon role, he has gifted you a small dragon like creature. A housepet of sorts to keep you company.

“Fret not my Bǎoshí, you know I must go as needed. Yánshí will keep you company whilst I attend to some issues within the city.” Zhongli coos gently, soft yet calloused hands gently wiping away your tears as they fall. He feels his heart break a bit every time you cry, wishing that he could do something more to ease the ache. He got you a domesticated geovishap hatchling to keep you company, something fierce and protective in case you should have any issues whilst alone. 

Yandere!Raiden would simply scoff at your behavior, calling you childish and weak. She believes that you should be stronger, leaving you to calm yourself any time you have a crying fit. She simply doesn’t believe that someone so weak should even have made it this far in the first place, leaving you to your qualms.

“Do not disgrace my image with your incessant whining, it is lowly and pathetic. No partner of mine should ever act in such a distasteful manner, especially in public eye.” Raiden’s tone was not only harsh, but somehow she made it feel heavy. Every word, every letter seemed to add to the growing weight in your chest, leaving you choking on tears as you sit crumpled on the floor. It truly was a pathetic display, and if it had not been for Raiden picking you up and dragging you back to Tenshukaku, you’d still be crying in the middle of a bustling Inazuma street. Someone had bumped into you and made you spill your food, it really wasn’t anything to cry about. 

Yandere!Furina, while she isn’t a crybaby, she is incredibly open about her emotions. Of all currently recognized Archons, she’s the most physically and verbally expressive, even if most of it is childish tantrums. It’s because of this though that she almost relates to your feelings 

“Alright, hush now my Pluvieux, it’s alright, it’s going to be ok.” Furina holds you close to her as you cry, her presence alone being enough to keep any curious onlookers from stepping too close to the two of you. Gently, she guides you away from the watchful crowd, wanting to get you somewhere private to calm both of you down. Seeing you cry made her wrath beat strongly beneath her skin, the underlying urge to ruin everything that had made you so sad running rampant beneath her worries. You were her first concern though and she wanted to protect you above all else.

Brise - Breeze

Bǎoshí - Gem/Gemstone

Yánshí - Rock

Pluvieux - Rainy

[linos-luna]

My Queen (Pt. 7) • Last part •

Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, smut, fingering, groping

(Pt. 6) (Last Part)

—————————— 👑———————————

The days come and go. As you plan your wedding, you feel like you’re in a dream. Hyunjin has become even more attentive and protective but you don’t mind. He gives you all the love and attention you could ever want. He wanted you to be happy everyday all day.

Your love for him has become stronger. No matter what anyone says, you know that Hyunjin is the prince that returned you to the castle at took you away from the dangerous world. The world is cruel. Full of awful people that want to hurt you and dangerous structures. It is much more safe to stay in the castle.

Speaking of, you love your castle. You’ve made it your own and decorated as you please. The bedroom is elegant and cozy, kitchen is rich with color and ingredients for the best food, and living room decorated beautifully. Every room was filled with your favorite colors and personal touch. Your castle is gorgeous.

You and Hyunjin have worked so hard on the garden. Growing strawberries, tomatoes and zucchini. Many other foods as well. The flowers? Well you grew some news but kept the older ones as well. The ones you couldn’t see? It’s silly to think they were never there. They were just to beautiful for the human eye to comprehend, but they are there, no doubt.

With the amount of growth and fluoresment present, you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been here. Perhaps a year…? Who knows. And it doesn’t even matter to you.

~~~~~~ 👑

It’s a beautiful spring day and you found yourself in the garden, picking the fresh strawberries from their vines. You can’t wait to eat them with your fiancé. Fresh strawberries, Greek yogurt, and granola. A perfect lunch.

You walk in with the basket of berries, taking them to the kitchen before washing your hands in the sink. You had gotten some dirt on your hands but you didn’t mind.

Hyunjin watched as you washed the strawberries and pulled out some bowls.

“What are you making, my love?” He speaks up suddenly.

“Parfaits.” You replied.

“My Queen, you do not need to work so hard.”

“It’s okay.” You say with a smile while cutting the stems from the strawberries. “I want to make it.”

Hyunjin shrugged, letting you continue. It wasn’t long before you finished and set the bowls on the table.

“My love, it looks amazing.”

“Thanks Jinnie.” You smile when watching him eat. He then feeds you. The fresh strawberries were sweet and delicious.

At some point, Hyunjin gave you a sudden kiss. The taste of strawberries lingered on your and his lips.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I just love you.” He was always so sweet. Hyunjin looked at you with love in his eyes as he gently rubbed your cheek.

“I love you too Jinnie.” You replied with a smile. When finishing your food, Hyunjin gets up and cleans up the dishes. Meanwhile you look at your phone, reading the incoming messages. It was Jihyo. Hyunjin knows how important your friend is to you so he finally let you keep and use your phone. After all, There’s no reason not to trust you.

After responding, you slip your phone back in your pocket and move to the living room. Something was playing on the TV but it was more like background noise as you barely paid attention to it. Hyunjin sat next to you, giving a kiss to your cheek.

“My Queen? Do you know what today is?”

“Hm?”

“It’s our one year anniversary!” Hyunjin said excitedly.

“Oh wow.” You replied, now thinking about it. Had it really been a year??

“My love, it’s been a year since I brought you home.” He chuckled. “How could you forget?”

“I’m losing track of time I guess.”

“My sweet Queen… let me ravish you with love.” He said while turning your head to kiss your lips.

You gently kiss back as he puts his hand on your hip. This kisses were passionate and lips so addicting. You gasped softly as he kissed your neck and pushing you on your back.

Hyunjin looked over you while touching you under your shirt, massaging your braless breasts and continuing to kiss down your neck, nipping every once in a while. You let out breathy moans as he use one hand to palm over your pants.

This had you hot and needy. You desperately pulled your shirt off and tugged down your pants.

Hyunjin loved this and continued by sucking at your breasts and teasing your clit, slipping his fingers under your panties. This had you moaning and whimpering.

“My love, let me please you…” he whispered against your neck before slipping his two fingers in your cunt.

“F-fuck— Jinnie—!”

“Shh… relax my darling.”

Hyunjin slowly went in and out with his fingers, curving them ever so slightly to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Breathy moans escaped your lips and your back slightly arched. It was hard not to sound like you’re crying as tears rolled down your cheeks. You tightly gripped his hair as you were already so close to reaching your high.

“Cmon, my love… cum on my fingers…”

“F-fuck—….” With a loud moan and eyes rolled back, you let go.

After pulling out his fingers, he stuck them in his mouth to taste your essence.

“My Queen…” he breathed. “My Queen is so sweet…”

You stared at him, feeling a bit dazed. His addictive plump limps and hypnotic eyes made you want more. You whimpered a little, needing his attention again. It was only a short bit before he started kissing you again.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“I just want you…” you replied while holding on to him.

“Yeah? My sweet queen, you’ll always have me.” He smiled while rubbing your cheek. “My love, do you understand how beautiful you are?”

You only shook your head.

Hyunjin chuckled and rubbed your sides. “You are the most beautiful person ever… most kind and loving… no one deserves your graciousness.”

All you could do was blush at his compliments. He did this often but it always had you falling for him all over again.

“My sweet queen, I’ll protect you forever… I’ll keep the hideous world away…” Hyunjin continued giving soft kisses along your neck. “I love you… and I’ll never leave you… but will you ever leave me?”

“I would never.” You managed to get out between kisses.

"My Queen, I got you something," Hyunjin announced as he got up. "For the wedding."

Putting your shirt and pants back on, you followed him to the bedroom. "For your veil, you deserve a crown," he said, presenting a sparkly tiara, undoubtedly an exquisite and expensive piece. "I believe it will go perfectly with whatever dress you pick."

"Wow!" you said excitedly. "It's so pretty!"

Hyunjin smiled, placing the tiara on your head. "My Love, we will be going dress shopping today."

"Really?!"

"Yes. Now go get ready. Keep the crown on."

With a kiss on the lips, you eagerly headed to the closet to get dressed for the outing.

~~~~~~~~ 👑

Hyunjin took you to the finest stores in town to find the perfect wedding dress. His anxiety and paranoia were setting in as he stayed by your side and hyper vigilant. While in a bridal shop, Hyunjin waited patiently in the dressing room until the manager approached him.

"Sir, is that your fiancée?" she asked curiously.

"Yes.”

"Not to be rude, but isn't the bride supposed to go dress shopping with her mother and bridesmaids?"

Hyunjin shot her an annoyed expression. "Well, I'm shopping with her."

"Yes, but—?"

"She only needs me!" he blurted out, causing the woman to back off, concerned about his outburst.

She couldn’t help thinking about it, she feels like she’s seen you before… maybe online or tv…? It had her feeling extra suspicious of Hyunjin.

"Jinnie! I think I found the one!" you cheered as you emerged from the dressing room.

"My Queen, you look stunning!" he complimented, genuinely pleased. "I really like it."

"Then we should get it!"

As you changed, Hyunjin couldn't help but notice the manager staring at him. His paranoia growing, and despite your conversation from the dressing room, his mind wandered. "Something is wrong," he whispered to himself.

He was lost in a battle, tuning out everything around him. The struggle was evident, muttering phrases like "don't take her" until he snapped back to reality, facing a concerned policeman.

"Are you alright?" the officer asked with a raised brow.

"Why wouldn't I be alright? I'm just shopping with my fiancée!" Hyunjin laughed nervously, dismissing any suspicion.

The officer, however, mentioned a report of shady business and a potential missing person.

“Shady?? What do you mean?”

“I mean… you seem to be keeping a really close eye on your ‘fiancée’ and she looks like someone from a missing persons report.”

“Missing?! She’s not missing!”

“Well, not to you, obviously.

“She’s not missing.” He repeated.

“I’ll speak to her—”

“No!” Hyunjin snapped.

“What’s going on?” You said while poking your head out.

“Nothing, my love. Ignore it.”

“No, ma’am.” The cop said while walking up to you. “I just had a question.”

“Oh, okay?” You nodded awkwardly.

“I believe you’re on a missing persons report.”

“She’s not missing!” Hyunjin yelled.”

“Are you here willingly?” The cop said with a sigh.

“What? Of course I’m here willingly! I love Hyunjin!” You say quickly. “We’re gonna get married!”

“Okay. But were you kidnapped or—?”

“Kidnapped?!” You interrupted. “You have this all wrong. Hyunjin saved me. He brought me back to the castle.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s the love of my life! No one loves me like he does.” You say with a smile while looking at Hyunjin who was standing there nervously.

As he questioned you, Hyunjin grew defensive, insisting you weren't missing. The officer wanted to speak with you alone, but you refused,

“Alright, I just want to make sure.” The officer nodded. He was still a bit suspicious

“Ma’am are you sure you wouldnt you like to step to the side for a recorded statement? Maybe to the police station?”

“And leave Hyunjin?” You said with a frown while going to and hugging hyunjin’s arm. “No it’s not safe!”

“It’s the police station, you’ll be—”

“She doesn’t want to go with you.” Hyunjin interrupted.

“I’m sorry, officer but I don’t wanna go. I have to stay with Jinnie and finish getting ready for our wedding.”

The cop frowned, He was 100% you were the missing person but knows that there’s nothing he could do as you were an adult. He apologized and left you guys alone, writing down some notes.

The officer was still suspicious as he left and Hyunjin held you tight. “I told you it was dangerous out here! We must go home!”

You agreed, ready to pay and leave as soon as possible.

On the drive home, you discussed wedding plans, and Hyunjin marveled at your excitement, relieved to be away from the dangers outside the castle.

After returning home, Hyunjin helped you relax before a late dinner. As you sat down, you couldn't shake off the curiosity about the policeman's intentions.

"Jinnie?" you asked.

"Yes, my love?" Hyunjin replied.

"Why did that policeman want me to go with him?"

"Probably to steal you away," he sighed, "and lock you up."

"Why would he do that?"

"There are crazy and dangerous people out there. That's why you must stay here with me."

"Okay," you smiled. "Thank you for protecting me."

~~~~~ 👑

A month passed, and the day of the wedding arrived. The outdoor venue was adorned with your favorite colors and decorations. A priest stood at the altar, ready to officiate the ceremony.

Your friend Jihyo assisted you in getting ready, doing your makeup and hair. As you admired yourself in the mirror, Jihyo struck up a conversation.

"Y/n, are you sure about this..."

"Yes," you smiled, looking back at her.

Jihyo sighed. "Well, are you happy? Genuinely?"

"Mmhm, I am," you replied.

"Okay," Jihyo sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could do. As your friend, she wished for your happiness, and she'd be there if you.

"Y/n, I'm happy for you. If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you. Come see me if you need anything."

You gave your friend a hug, and with that, Jihyo ushered you towards the aisle, where Hyunjin awaited. Tears formed in your eyes as you nodded, ready to marry the love of your life.

As the ceremony unfolded, the music played, your heart was racing. Walking down the aisle, you felt overwhelming joy. Marrying Hyunjin meant spending the rest of your life with the one you love, and that prospect filled you with great happiness. This marked the beginning of the happiest day of your life.

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow [Morning After Trope]

Pairing: Frank Castle x AFAB Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The Morning After situation 1. Two characters hook up, the next morning Person A finds the bed beside them empty and thinks Person B snuck away and is never to be seen again. Except Person B is doing something innocuous like making Person A breakfast. "Frank and I hooked up last night and now the sheets beside me are cold. Of course that emotionally distant bastard can’t face the morning after."

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). AFAB Reader. Oral (F receiving). P in V. Unprotected. Creampie. No use of y/n. 

WC: 1,200

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

The scratchy linen sheets beneath you pricked against your skin like a thousand needles, not that that was the sensation you were most aware of at the moment.

Another circle of his tongue against your clit kept your attention centered on the pleasure growing between your legs, causing you to cry out as he brought you to ecstasy once more.

Your third orgasm washed over you in rippling waves like a steady current, pulled from you as though it were the easiest thing in the world for him.

And he hadn’t even removed his pants yet.

“Mmm, attagirl.” he praised

The two of you had crossed a line tonight, snapping in half the tedious tightrope you walked between friendship and something more. The way in which he hungrily devoured you assured you it was indeed lust, but you weren’t sure if either of you were ready to admit what it really was.

What man has ever made you orgasm three times on the first hookup? you thought as he removed his body from between your shaking legs.

Looking down to admire the sight of you so beautifully ruined beneath him, he flashed that lopsided grin, lips still coated in your arousal, before finding the shiny silver of his belt buckle, unfastening it with a grunt. Even in the bedroom, he remained a man of few words, responding only with a nod as you begged beneath him.

“Frank, please…”

Every tooth of his zipper pulled apart painfully slowly, the way you squirmed in anticipation as his fingers guided it downward tested his resilience to not just dive back in and make you cum again.

“Patience, sweetheart.” he cooed, before his jeans were pushed to the floor in a crumpled heap beside his long-ago discarded shirt.

The knowledge of how precarious a situation this was hung over him. He wanted to savor every moment before him, every moan and whimper, every inch of your skin against his calloused fingers. But if he dragged this out too long, it might give way to either of you overthinking the consequences of crossing this line.

You were keenly aware of the delicacy of the moment too as you laid back on the bed, spreading yourself open to invite him in. Months of slowly tearing down the emotional walls he built, brick by brick, now blown apart in an instant with the wrecking ball of your lips against his; your skin flush against him, your delicate gaze boring into his dark eyes. It could all be undone in a moment though, chancing them being built higher and stronger than before if you did not proceed correctly.

“Frank…” you begged again as he hovered his body above yours, sheets already crumpled in your fists beside you. Your breathy pleading urged him to continue, lining up to slot himself inside you, if only to keep hearing more of those beautiful utterances of his name. He knew over the next few days, the way your moans echoed between his ears would haunt him until he had to fist his cock for relief, reliving the feeling of your delicate caress against his scar-laden skin until he’s breathing raggedy and coming apart all over again.

“Oh Frank” you whimpered as he pushed inside, your warm breath tickled his ear as you incited him to fuck you.

His hands roamed along your tender curves, reaching to find steady grounding amongst the flurry of sensations of you.

Even now as your bodies entwined in a sweaty heap of need and carnality, he knew the tenderness that laid beneath the act, feelings unspoken threatened to bubble to the surface as you continued to consume each other with every thrust, every gasp and moan, every motion driving you both towards a careening cliff of pleasure.

“Please” you begged again, pleading swallowed by his tender kisses as he tried to hang on a little longer.

His hand reached for yours, entwining fingers to tether himself to your heart as you came apart beneath him a final time. Your writhing in ecstasy had him falling behind you, barely realizing it as it happened, buried so deep inside both your warm velvet walls and soul to know up from down.

He groaned deep as your divine cunt squeezed every last drop from his cock until he was totally spent.

Collapsing beside you on the bed, he turned over to gaze upon your etherealness. Dewy sweat droplets clung to your brow and your kiss bitten lips gasped for air like a fish on land seeking the relief of the sea as you caught your breath.

His dark maple eyes roaming over you was the last thing you remembered before you were devoured up by exhaustion seeping into your bones.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The cold radiating from the sheets as you sleepily ran a hand across them was not an unfamiliar experience, only noteworthy this morning because you expected to find them otherwise.

The warmth of Frank’s body beside you was nowhere to be found.

You didn’t even dare open your eyes to the reality of the situation.

“Foolish” you grumbled to yourself, already mentally drowning in misery at how you’d fallen all the way down the mountain side after months of careful climbing to reach the peak that was him opening up to you.

That was if you ever saw him again at all. You’d known him well enough to be aware that such a transgression against the fortress he’d built around the castle of his heart could totally isolate you from his life forever.

A clattering from the kitchen of your small apartment drew your attention, eyes snapping to gaze at the disturbance to your wallowing.

Two mugs of coffee balanced in his hand, holding them as easily as he’d held your lust captive over and over again the night before.

“You’re here.”

An amused grin spread across his face as he delivered his simple morning gesture of adoration to your bedside table.

“Course I am.”

With that reassurance, the hesitation washed away and you captured his lips in yours once more. Not a kiss filled with sensuality and need like the night before, but a tender kiss that filled in words unspoken.

“I’m not going anywhere.”