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#sometimes I wished I’d passed it up
fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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#so apparently one of my (distant enough that i haven’t met him) cousins is a trans man and the reason i found this out#is that my grandparents were talking about how he got married in a suit and how ‘the pictures look ridiculous’ and they were misgendering#him the whole time. and i was trying to stick up for him like.. this is clearly important to him? he’s just being himself#and they were like ‘yeah but [he] looks stupid’ as if that fucking negates their transphobia somehow#as if a cis man has never looked fucking stupid in a suit. like. stop with this#and this was so depressing to hear because i was like wow… i can never come out to them huh. like i don’t think i can even tell them i’m bi#and i don’t think i AM trans but like… genderfluid maybe??#i get insane amounts of gender envy from men but also sometimes i really enjoy the fact that i look like a renaissance woman#and my heart just ACHES when i see someone looking effortlessly androgynous because my body refuses to do that#i’m built like if jessica rabbit got really into cake during quarantine. and i really wish i wasn’t#but there is no way i can change it lol. not unless everyone gets really cool about a bunch of stuff really quickly#sometimes i do wonder what it would take for me to pass honestly. i mean i’m already 6’1 which helps. square jawline#i’d have to have top surgery though. there’s no bindee in the world that’s flattening me without also suffocating me#i feel like if i went on T i’d get facial hair like immediately considering the genetics of men in my family. i just hope i’d keep my dad’s#hairline. he never went bald and neither has my brother but my granddad and uncle are both bald as eggs#i wish i could shapeshift.#personal
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floral-hex · 11 hours
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real sad boy hours
#why? just ‘cause.#actually I’m here at this chess tournament my brother is entered in. sitting by myself in the lobby waiting for him to finish his last game#and I’m honest to goodness trying not to openly weep. I feel so stupid#hold on. give me a second bc just writing this makes#makes me start crying a little and there are people around#life is too short#I love this kid. I’ve loved watching him grow up. and I’m always ALWAYS aware that everything is passing so fast#will I be here with him next year? will he outgrow all of this?#we don’t hang out as much anymore. he’s got his teenage things going on. his own life.#I don’t know. I’m trying to appreciate these moments as much as I can#it’s hard though. I feel like shit. my head hurts. my tinnitus has been driving me crazy#it’s hard to be present when you’re in a fog#last night in the hotel room we didn’t even really hang out. he just played on his phone until he slept. which is totally his right.#I just… I just hope I’m really appreciating this time#ok now I feel stupid for kind of crying in this hotel while lots of people walk around#i don’t know what more I could even do now. it’s not like I’m allowed to go watch him play or I can do anything but wait#I suppose I have to keep asking myself ‘am I appreciating this enough?’ and if I’m not then try to work on that#life is really shitty right now but I know there have been countless times I wish I’d been more present#so I wake up tired today and drink coffee & 5 hour energy and still I’m tired and my head hurts but I’ve still gotta try. just a little.#in a couple of years he’ll be off to college and have his own life#and it won’t be him and I going to the movies or driving him to school or having dinner together#anyway… juuuuust sad. and lonely. straight up not having a good time#but also I’m glad I’m here if only to hang around my brother a little bit#IAN! stop! god I feel so stupid letting myself wallow like this. it’s not helping. it’s just making me sad. focusing on the negatives.#whatevs. I’ve got major depression. suck my butt. I’m allowed to be sad sometimes.#this weekend didn’t really go like I thought#I guess I expected to read more and shoot the shit with my brother and hang out more but it’s whatever. life happens.#my mental & physical health has been bad for a couple months now so I couldn’t have reasonably expected to suddenly be great just because 🤷🏻#oh well!#text
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hero-dualies-pog · 2 months
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anyway um. these piercings aint shit
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waitimcomingtoo · 1 month
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This Means War
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you
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“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.
“I don’t know. You should try it.”
“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”
“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”
“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.
“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”
“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”
“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.
“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”
“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”
“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.
“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“
“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.
“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.
“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.
“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.
“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.
“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.
“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.
“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.
“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.
“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.
“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.
“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.
“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.
“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.
“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.
“I’m not short.” Peter defended. ��I’m the average height of a woman.”
“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”
“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.
“Sands?” Peter asked you.
“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.
“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”
“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.
“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.
“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.
“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.
“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”
Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.
“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“
“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.
“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”
“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.
“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.
“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.
“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.
“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.
“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.
“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.
“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.
“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.
“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.
“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.
“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”
“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.
“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”
“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”
“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”
“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.
“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.
“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”
“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.
“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.
“So, did you and Harry-“
“Harley.” You corrected.
“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”
You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.
“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.
“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”
“Like like like?” You teased him.
“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.
“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”
“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.
“Why do you ask?” You wondered.
“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”
“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”
“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.
“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”
“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.
“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.
“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.
“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.
“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.
“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”
A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.
“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.
“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.
“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.
“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.
“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.
“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”
“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.
“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.
“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.
“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.
“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”
“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”
Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.
“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.
“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.
“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.
“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.
“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.
“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”
“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”
“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”
“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.
“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.
“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.
“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.
“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”
“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.
“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.
“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”
“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”
“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.
“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.
“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.
“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.
“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.
“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.
“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.
“I said nothing.” You mumbled.
“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.
“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”
Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.
“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.
“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”
“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.
“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”
“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”
“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.
“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.
“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.
“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.
“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”
“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”
“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.
“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”
“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.
“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.
“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.
“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.
“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”
“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.
“A little.” Harley shrugged.
“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.
“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.
“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.
“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.
“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.
“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.
“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.
“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”
“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.
“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?” You asked him.
“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.
Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.
“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.
“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.
“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.
“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.
“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.
“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”
“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.
“What was that?” You asked him.
“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.
“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.
“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.
“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”
“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”
“Well, let me hear it.”
“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.
“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.
“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.
“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“
“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.
“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.
“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”
“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.
“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.
“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”
“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.
“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.
“If you’re here to sing to me-“
“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.
“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.
“I know that.” Peter said quietly.
“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.
“So have I.” Peter told him.
“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.
“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.
“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”
Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.
“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.
“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She never mentioned that.”
“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”
“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.
“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.
“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.
“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?
“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.
“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.
“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.
“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”
“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.
“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”
“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.
“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.
“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.
“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.
“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.
“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.
“I don’t even understand what that-“
“Me either.” Peter cut him off.
After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.
“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.
“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.
“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.
“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.
“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.
“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.
“I really do miss you.” He told you.
“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”
“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”
“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.
“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.
“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.
“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”
“So did I.” You admitted.
“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.
“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.
“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”
“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”
“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.
“We’ll see.” He laughed.
Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.
“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.
“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.
“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”
“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.
“What?” He wondered.
“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.
“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”
“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”
“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.
“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.
“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.
“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.
“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.
“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.
“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.
“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”
“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.
“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.
“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.
“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.
“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.
“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.
“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.
“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.
“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”
“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.
“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”
“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.
“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.
“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.
“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.
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withleeknow · 5 months
Note
Lee Minho/Know + “quit it or i’ll bite.” + “do it. i dare you.” + suggestive
Thank you if you take this request!!! Up to you who's doing the biting :)
feline tendencies. (m)
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pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, suggestive (probably a teeny bit more than suggestive), minors dni; practically dry humping, biting kink??, mimo's pecs (yes they deserve their own warning) word count: 0.9k
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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"quit it or i'll bite," minho grumbles, wriggling away from you in an attempt to ward your paws off him. "jesus, what's gotten into you?"
"i wish you would," you mutter, crawling toward him again to lay your head on him once more. the man is reading his book, just trying to enjoy his saturday afternoon and yet there's a menace quite literally in his lap, making grabby hands at him. disrupting his peace and quiet, though that's not really anything new.
"insatiable," minho tsks, his fingers carding through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp as he makes an effort to appease you. his attention is then promptly returned to the pages in front of him.
that's how your weekends are usually spent - lounging about, being lazy together, relaxing by each other's side.
you're just acting up today.
your twitchy fingers have a mind of their own. they dance up his stomach, over his abs until they reach their desired destination.
you place your entire hand over one of his pecs and squeeze, giggling to yourself when you feel his skin under your palm. this earns you a glare though it doesn't faze you.
minho may be scary to other people, but never when he's with you. it's just physically impossible, even if he wanted to.
"seriously, what is with you?"
you give his chest another tender squeeze. "boobs," you say simply. you think that's a pretty good explanation.
maybe you're no better than a man after all.
so it started a couple of weeks ago.
minho rarely skips going to the gym and while you are eternally grateful for it, you must admit that sometimes it drives you a little crazy. you respect his commitment, the consistency of his workout regimen (this could never be you, but that's beside the point); it's one of the traits that you admire most about him - he sees things through and adheres to the schedule that he makes for himself. minho doesn't half-ass the things he does or ditches them when he's feeling a little lazy (unlike you).
however...
it's this same dedication to his routine that's been sending you into a frenzy. lately, your boyfriend has been focused on working a particular area of his body and honestly? it's making you spiral more than you have ever spiraled.
chest. who knew it would be your downfall?
when minho came home last evening straight from the gym, you swear you almost passed out the second he walked through the door. his pecs looked especially good even under his shirt that you practically salivated, shamelessly ogling him like a hungry wolf.
minho sighs as if he's at his wits' end with you, though this time, he lets you continue feeling him up. "you wouldn't like it if i did the same thing to you, now would you?"
"actually, i think i would like that very much."
"i will bite you, no joke."
you have no doubt that he actually would. but again, that isn't something that you would been entirely opposed to either. you might be one of the only people on planet earth who can handle lee minho.
"your feline tendencies are jumping out," you comment, your hand still on his chest, alternating between playful pokes and full on kneading his pecs like dough. "do it. i dare you."
minho bares his teeth at you in the cat-like way that he sometimes does. it's cute, oh so cute.
before you know it, the book is haphazardly flung onto the carpeted floor (bookmark be damned) and your boyfriend is forcing a yelp from your lips when he practically pounces on you. your head is no longer on his lap; instead, he's got you pinned underneath him, his hips flushed against yours.
you can feel him through his sweats. delectable.
minho leans in until his lips ghost over yours. "stop testing me," he murmurs.
"stop tempting me," you shoot back.
"but i'm not though?"
"your boobs are."
"my god." he lowers his head to your neck, his soft lips brushing against your exposed skin as he chuckles. "that's not what they are."
"they might as well be. they're gonna be bigger than mine one day."
the sound coming from his mouth morphs into a laugh, airy and completely defeated by your words. "god, you're just so..."
"i'm so what?"
"weird," minho says.
you smile. "perfect for you then, aren't i?"
"mhmm."
then he's closing the gap between his mouth and your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he rolls his hips against your body, spreading your legs open so he could slot between them more comfortably, so he could fit against you perfectly.
"oh," you gasp when he ruts forward, presses himself into the warmth between your thighs, over your shorts and his sweats. you weave your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck as if he has any intention on moving elsewhere. minho continues to kiss and lick at your skin, nibbling on it gently in alternation.
"i thought..." you breathe out heavily, your body starting to move against his too, "thought you promised to bite me."
"promised? it was more of a threat, wasn't it?"
"same difference."
you can't see him, but you can just bet that minho is rolling his eyes. then, you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck like he's deciding where the best spot would be. he presses his hard pecs tightly against yours as his mouth closes in. you almost fall apart right then and there.
well, this certainly awakened something in you, didn't it?
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 palindrome969
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 20.01.2024]
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marcsburnerphone · 5 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.
part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4
—————-
You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.
“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”
You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.
————
Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.
When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.
Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.
You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.
John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.
You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.
———
John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.
After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?
“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.
“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.
“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.
“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.
“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.
“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.
Sleep can wait.
—————
You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.
Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.
“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.
“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.
“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.
“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.
“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.
“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.
“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.
“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.
“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.
“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.
“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.
“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.
“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.
“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.
“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.
“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.
“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.
“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.
“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day
—————
John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.
“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.
“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.
“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.
“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.
He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.
“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.
“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.
“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.
“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.
“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.
“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.
“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.
——————
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merakiui · 4 months
Text
タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
938 notes · View notes
miniwheat77 · 9 months
Text
Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.
This is not edited give me a break lmao
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You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.
You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.
He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.
When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.
You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.
A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.
You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.
You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.
He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?
Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.
You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”
You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.
“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.
You’ve got to be delusional.
He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.
“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“
His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.
He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.
“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.
You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.
You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.
You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.
The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.
You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.
He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”
“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”
He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”
“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”
“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.
“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.
Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”
“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.
You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?
You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.
Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.
2K notes · View notes
tsimvkas · 13 days
Text
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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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httpdwaekki · 4 months
Text
migraine | b.c.
summary: you were known to have pretty intense migraines but chan is there to help you feel better.
wc: 1.9k
warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff, tad bit of hurt/ comfort, sweet channie as always, and in true ashton fashion far too many petnames lmao. very lightly proofread (p.s. i am in my wolfchan lover arc, need him immediately.)
a/n: omg ashton got lost in the sauce again? * gasp* shocker! yeah this took me way too long to write but whatever. i actually don't hate this which is crazy but this is self indulgent because i get some pretty intense, nasty migraines that can last a couple days and it sucks. but if you suffer from the same thing i hope this can bring you some comfort and also i recommend a gel cap that you put in the freezer. an actual game changer, trust. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3
*lowercase intended*
my library
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(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you had some pretty nasty migraines, no secret to you or chan. they last anywhere from a few hours to a few days and while there were things to help lessen the pain and pressure, sometimes you just had to ride it out.
this was unfortunately one of those times. now usually you would call chan as soon as you felt the first telltale sign of a migraine . this time however, you didn’t, you knew he was busy with work and didn’t want to interfere with that. but you were selfishly starting to regret that decision as everything you were doing did nothing to help.
it seemed like everything did nothing but increase the pressure in your head, spreading to your face. in a last ditch effort to get some sleep you put on some migraine music, pressed a cold compress to your eyes and pulled wolfchan to your chest.
the soft plushie smelled faintly of chan’s cologne, the only thing actually helping you relax. but it also made you miss the aussie man, wishing he was by your side, rubbing your temples, softly lulling you to sleep.
you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a warm tear drip down to your neck. you knew you had to calm down or you risk making everything worse but you couldn’t. you were overwhelmed by the pressure in your head and frustrated with nothing helping to release it.
you felt selfish and guilty but you knew you needed chan, you felt like you were going insane without him. hesitantly you moved the compress from your eyes, grabbing your phone.
despite the brightness being on the lowest possible setting, you felt a sharp pain behind your eye as the screen turned on. you unlocked your phone, clicking chan’s contact, you quickly typed out a message.
to channie <3 :
hi, i’m so sorry to ask but i really don’t know what else to do, i have a migraine and nothing's helping. i know you're working but is there anyway when you finish up at the studio you could come over? even for a little bit, if not i totally get it, just thought i’d ask, love you bug.
you hit send, locking your phone, placing it on the soft sheets, placing the compress back over your eyes. a few minutes passed before you felt your phone buzz beside you. you move the cold compress once more, bracing yourself for the light from your phone.
from channie <3:
can you call me jagi? i don’t want you to keep looking at your phone screen, love you too sweet girl.
you click his contact once more, hitting the little phone icon next to his name causing the calming music to stop, a loud ringing replacing it. this caused you to wince and quickly lower the volume before putting it on speaker so you could place the cooling pack back over your eyes.
it didn’t take long before he picked up. “hi my baby, what’s going on?” he asked softly.
“my head hurts,” you started, words slightly slurred. “it’s really bad channie.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “i’ve tried everything and nothing’s working, i don’t know what to do.” you softly cried, tears making their way down your cheeks once more.
“okay angel okay, take a deep breath, i need you to relax for me okay? i know it hurts but it’s gonna hurt worse if you’re upset.” you hear rustling in the background.
“i’m just finishing up a few things here and then i’m gonna head over, okay sweetheart?” you respond with a soft whimper, followed by a quiet, “okay.” you press the pack further into your eyes, chasing the coolness that is quickly leaving the gel filled pack.
“do you want me to stay on the phone with you till i get there?” he asks softly, packing his bag.
“yes, please.” you mumbled. “okay baby, just keep breathing and focus on me, okay? i’m gonna pick up some food on the way too, okay?” you hummed in response, rolling over, pushing the soft plushie to your cheek, breathing in the familiar scent.
“everything okay?” you hear changbin ask in the background. “yeah, y/n has a migraine, so i’m going to help her.” chan responds.
“oh no, i hope she feels better, let us know if you guys need anything.” you hear han chime in, your heart swelling at the boys concern.
“will do, thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” you hear him open the studio door making his way into the hallway.
“you still with me, jagi?” he asks softly. “yeah, i’m here.” face squished into the soft fabric. “alright sweetheart, i’m gonna mute for a bit just until i get to my car, okay?” he asks, the elevator dings in the background, signaling its arrival.
“okay.” you say sleepily. “i love you baby, i’ll be right back.” you hear him press a button in the elevator. “love you too bub.” your words slurring slightly.
after chan muted, you felt yourself slowly succumb to the exhaustion, phone positioned next to you on the sheets, wolfchan tucked safely against your cheek, you, curled up in a soft blanket .
that is exactly how chan found you about 25 minutes later as he walked in your room, the space dimly lit by the oil diffuser sitting on your bedside table. he left the take-out bags sitting on your kitchen counter, fresh compress and cold water in hand. he gently places the water on your desk, making his way over to you.
he grabs your phone, ending the call before turning off the relaxing music. he sits next to your sleeping form, gently taking the warm pack off your face. he places a kiss on your forehead before placing the fresh compress on your eyes.
you tense for a moment, before relaxing as the cold begins to relieve the tension once more. you stir awake from the sudden change in temperature. “channie?” you asked, sleep laced in your voice.
he places a hand on your hips, his thumb rubbing soothing circles to the area. “hi, my baby,” he whispers. “how are you feeling hm?” he asks, continuing the soothing motion. you move the cool pack, grabbing his free hand, in this lap, threading your fingers together before placing a kiss on the back of his.
“better now that you’re here.” you murmured, giving him a small smile. he smiled back before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“i got you some ramen, i’m gonna go grab it for you okay?” you nodded, him standing, still keeping your hand in his. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before placing the compress back over your eyes, grabbing the warm one to put back in the freezer .
he gives your hand a light squeeze before walking away. you relax into the soft mattress below you while chan goes to grab the hot soup and some medicine just in case.
he walks in with the tray, setting it on your desk next to the cold water collecting condensation on the wood below it. he makes his way over to you, sitting next to you once again, gently lifting the pack off your eyes. “there she is,” he placed a hand on your cheek, setting the compress next to you.
“hi baby.” he smiled, softly stroking your cheek. you give him a small smile back before turning your head slightly to place a kiss to his palm. “can you sit up for me please?” you nod softly before slowly moving to lean against the wall behind you.
“careful jagi.” he whispered, quickly placing a hand behind your head. “thank you, bug.” you mumble, adjusting the pillows behind you, placing wolfchan in your lap . chan stands up once more, placing the water on the tray before bringing it over to you.
“thank you, chan, you really didn’t have to do all this.” you say, guilt creeping up on you once again. he shakes his head. “nope, none of that. i’m your boyfriend, this is my job.” he places the tray on your lap, taking his place next to you once again.
“plus, i love taking care of you. if you need me, i’m there. any time, any place, simple as that.” your heart swells, you feel a lump form in the back of your throat. “you can’t say stuff like that when i’m like this, i’ll cry.” you play with the plushie’s ears before feeling a finger lift your chin.
“i love you, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?” he said, looking into your eyes, with nothing but love and sincerity. you nod, “i love you too.” he smilled, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead.
“now, you need to eat, i got your favorite.” he says, picking up the hot soup, opening the lid, before separating the chopsticks. he dips the wooden sticks in the soup, giving it a stir before grabbing some of the noodles.
he gently blows on the steaming noodles before offering it to you, container under it to catch any dripping soup. you giggle, “you know i can feed myself right?” he frowns, pushing the noodles and container closer to you. “eat.”
you smile before opening your mouth, accepting the food he so generously offered you. a smile made it’s way onto his face, feeding you a few more bites. he placed the container back down, chopsticks resting in the soup, before grabbing the medicine and water.
“take these.” he placed them in your hand, opening the water as you dropped the pills in your mouth. he hands you the water, watching as you greedly gulp down the cool beverage. “ how are you feeling, angel?” he asks gently.
“it still hurts but i think eating and drinking definitely helped.” you smiled, handing him the bottle. “ good, i’m glad. eat a few more bites then we’ll lay down, okay?” he says, picking up the soup once more.
you end up finishing the ramen before he grabs the tray and the now warm compress. “do you want a cold one?” he asks holding up the pack.
“yes please.” you nod slightly. “okay, get comfy, i’ll be right back jagi.” you smile laying back down as he leaves the room.
he comes back, shortly after, with a fresh compress and another bottle of water. he places the water next to your diffuser, placing the compress over your eyes. he circles the bed, climbing under the covers.
he lays down, pulling you into him, placing your head on his chest. you place your arm around his wait, hand slipping under his shirt, rubbing your thumb across his soft skin.
he brings his hand up, rubbing soft circles on your temples, placing kiss on the top of your head. “sleep jagi, we can shower when you wake up okay?’ you nod slightly against him.
“thank you, channie. i love you, more than you know.” you mumble, tightening your arms around him. “i love you too baby, i’ll always take care of you, okay?” placing one last kiss to your hair.
that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms. the pressure in your head, slowly releasing, finally able to relax.
reblogs/feedback are appreciated! i hope you guys enjoyed!
do no repost
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housecow · 5 months
Text
i have a lot of cute ideas
my feeder travels a lot—he’s lucky enough to have a job that can take him all over the world. his cow, however, cannot really follow.
i outgrew a regular plane seat sometime after 300lbs. we discovered that after a particularly fruitful trip to spain; although eating our way through each city racked up a lot of steps, the funnel sessions and late night snacking really did me in. neither of us were really surprised that my hips just didn’t quite fit. rather, i could tell it was all he could think about the entire way back. his hand on my soft thigh, slightly clenched and almost possessive… the way his eyes flickered to mine and there was this look.
our trips together became rarer but neither of us minded. as i’d grown, a lot of what we used to do together faded. i couldn’t keep up on the hikes, biking was out of the question, and even the long walks we enjoyed wound up split by breaks so i could catch my breath.
throughout it all, however, my feeder just grew more enthusiastic. he’d tell me he was so proud after we made it back to the hotel each night. his hands would massage my softened shoulders, he’d hold the shake to my lips, and he’d coo into my ear, “it’s okay, i won’t make you do this again,” “there’s a buffet tomorrow morning,” or, “you can really feel how fat we’ve made you now, right?”
i’d melt with whatever he said and he’d fill me up, every way i needed. funnels and shakes, expansive platters of pastries… him inside me, i’m so full and he’s telling me how good i’m doing for him, my belly touching the bed while he’s breeding me…
neither of us minded when we had to do things separately. he’d be off on a trip, sending me photos of the views and the food (“wish i could be feeding you these!”), and i’d return the gesture. belly pics, selfies of my fatass planted on the couch working on the last bit of the gallon of ice cream that was supposed to last the week, meal ideas and articles and excitement about all he’s getting to experience.
the best part, however, is when he’d get back. over the longer trips i’d have settled in a bit too much. nothing was overly dirty, of course, but the fridge was overstocked with takeout. i’d finished almost everything and move on to whatever was next, absentmindedly leaving behind remnants of everything i’d made my way through. the trash would be full of boxes and candy wrappers, vegetable skins and soda cans, too. and he'd be able to see what it all did to me.
i was bigger every time he came back. it wasn’t too obvious, maybe just a pound or two, but it was enough to excite him. he’d admire the way i had to focus and gather momentum to heave myself out of the car, how my belly hang hit my thighs just enough to make a sound when i tried to move quickly, and how he could always count on me to gorge myself while i missed him.
he never made a comment though. but every time before he left the pantry would be replenished—zebra cakes, brownies, chips, pasta, sauce, boxed mac n cheese, everything he could think of would be left there for me.
he once said, “i won’t let a moment pass where you can’t reach for something to eat,” and it was true. a candy bowl mysteriously appeared on the coffee table one day, each time i reached the bottom it’d be refilled. the mini fridge side table was “cute and functional,” he reasoned, as he showed me where the sodas and premade shakes were going. i’d thank him, a soft kiss and several grateful expressions, before admitting that i was relieved at having one less trip to the kitchen now when i was settled in.
and he’d just smile. enabling a cow like me is easy, he just has to set the food out. i know what to do.
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annymation · 6 months
Text
Reimagining the characters in Wish
(Part 3- Star/Aster)
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ITS THE MOMENT WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!
HERE COMES THE BOYYYYY!!!
Ahem… so yeah welcome to part 3
If you haven’t seen them yet, here’s the links for part 1 and part 2 where I talk about how I’d rewrite Asha and the villains respectively.
Star may be the most challenging character to reimagine since… All I have is the personality displayed on the Star we DID get, a song we all collectively headcanon as Asha x Star love song (At All Cost Demo), and my imagination… In a way that just makes things more fun too.
Now remember there’s no definitive version of this character, he never came true so there’s limitless ways we can interpret him.
Some may imagine him mute, some may imagine him as a wacky character like the genie, others may imagine him more soft spoken like the blue fairy, some may imagine him as Asha’s love interest while others may prefer them as just friends, or even have him look like her grandfather, there are no wrong answers.
So here’s how I imagine him to be like:
The Star 💫
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What’s a Wishing Star?
- Before we start talking about our star boy, I think it’s important we establish what a wishing star even is, so let’s begin.
-Star is an entity from another plane of existence, a wishing star, a being whose only purpose is to listen to the wishes from mortals that can see him and other wishing stars through their night skies. They listen to the wishes from mortals and provide some guidance in subtle ways.
- A wishing star is born, or rather, gains consciousness, once someone looks to them and makes a wish from the bottom of their hearts, once the star receives their first ever wish they are no longer just a celestial body of gas, they become a new wishing star, they gain a purpose, and develop their minds just like how a human would.
- As the years pass the star becomes more wise, more equipped to help the person who wished upon them for the first time.
- For a wishing star to grow up it may take a while, that’s why most people wish upon bigger ones who are already fully developed and clever enough to know exactly how to help.
- It’s not a wishing star’s job to GRANT a wish immediately, in fact, they’re incapable of doing that, their magic can only go as far as the hope and perseverance that resides in their wishmaker’s heart.
- Things that the mortal would consider just luck could actually be the works of a wishing star putting them in the right path.
- If the person loses hope in their dream then there isn’t anything the star can do, but if they remain determined then the star can help them go far.
- So a wishing star job is to just… stay in the sky, look down upon their wishmakers, give some subtle magic intervention here and there…
-That is, when they’re wished upon at all, otherwise they just stay there doing nothing.
- However… In some rare occasions, wishing stars can do a lot more than just give a subtle magic intervention from the distance. Sometimes, when someone truly well intentioned makes a wish with all their heart… The wishing star gets the power to do some extraordinary things.
Personality
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- Star, or Aster as I’ll be calling him in this rewrite, which is a non-binary name meaning “star”. I’ll be referring to them with (He/they) pronouns.
- Aster is a very young and inexperienced wishing star, in fact, counting with Asha’s wish, Star only got TWO wishes in their whole life. And he’s still working on granting that first wish he ever got 18 years ago.
(Haha I’m sure that’s not foreshadowing for something really sad)
- Because of that he’s often treated by the other stars as sort of a younger sibling or a little kid.
- I think I should just get this info out now: Aster is NOT the north star, that big, bright and iconic star we know from the Disney movies, nope, Aster is actually a small itty bitty little star that you can barely see, that kind of star you probably wouldn’t pick to wish upon, most choose the brightests and bigger ones.
- So who’s that big, bright and iconic star? Well, in the beginning of our story… That star doesn’t exist, like, it’s literally absent from the sky… After all, we're seeing that star's origin story :)
- We’ll get to that when we get to that, back to Aster tho.
- Aster is a lot different from the other wishing stars, while they’re these benevolent and wise entities, Aster is more of a naive and curious teen who’s fascinated with the world below them.
- No one wishes upon him EVER so he gets a lot of free time to just watch humans do human things and animals do animal things, and he loves it.
(He’s like Ariel and Quasimodo lmao)
- When he gets to earth he’s very excited to help Asha, showing appreciation for her wishing upon him through a lot of physical contact, often hugging her and holding her hand without him even noticing. (Asha at first is confused but she gets used to this behavior pretty quick)
- Although Aster is naive and overly excited they’re no fool, he can be very clever and creative when it’s necessary.
- He’s also not a fish out of water like Ariel when he’s on earth, they understands human customs and how things work, since he watched everything from the sky… Although nevertheless they’re delighted to see everything up close.
- He may be smart, but at first, they don’t really know how to guide Asha in the right path to make her wish come true, after all he’s a very inexperienced wishing star, and freeing a kingdom from an evil sorcerer king and queen is no easy task.
- But regardless he doesn’t let his own insecurities get to him, and remains optimistic they’ll figure it out, together.
His personality is reminiscent to Disney guys such as: Quasimodo, Peter Pan, Prince Philip (yes really, rewatch Sleeping Beauty, that boy has a lot of personality), Alladin and Hercules.
Main Traits:
- Optimistic and kind
- Naïve
- Protective
- Curious
- Energetic
- Secretly very insecure
Powers
I think it’s important to establish his abilities before we get to his backstory and all that jazz.
What he CAN’T do
Just like how Movie Asha did in her job interview, let’s get his weaknesses out of the way first.
- Sooo… don’t get mad but… Star won’t be a shapeshifter in my version. I don’t want him to feel too much like Maui or the genie. So he’ll stay in the shape of a princely looking boy the whole way through.
- He can’t teleport, would make things too easy, also there’s a plot reason I’ll explain later.
- Can’t materialize real things out of thin air, only things made of star dust so they don’t really have any utility other than to create fun visuals during music numbers or when he’s explaining stuff.
- Can’t hurt anyone, this one is VERY IMPORTANT for plot reasons I’ll talk about later on.
- Can’t make a wish come true with the snap of his fingers, he’s a star, not a genie.
Weakness: Dark Magic, hopelessness and Asha getting hurt.
What he CAN do
- Stretch and re-shape his body. He may not turn into animals but his body can regenerate and squash and stretch around (haha get it? Like the animation term), like he’s made of star dust. Have this piece of concept art as an example:
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- He can Fly and make other people and objects fly too
- Unlock doors, may seem random now but I’ll explain in a minute.
- Bring plants to life, and make them grow bigger, and I mean like “make a flower the size of a house” bigger.
- Make animals talk, but the animals only keep talking IF they so desire, if that’s not something they wish for then the magic fades away with time.
- Tho he naturally understands animals and any other living thing in their own languages.
- He can feel other people’s wishes, not all the time tho, he has to make a conscious effort to see what’s that person’s deepest desire.
- His body is warm like a small sun, so he can give warm hugs… that’s a power, yes.
- Aster may not teleport, but they can move really REALLY fast
- Uncorrupt wish bubbles, I mentioned in part 2 that Magnifico twisted most the people's wishes, those wishes that are changed are called “Corrupted wishes”, Aster can change those wishes back to what they originally were.
- Create dreams, is that too much like the sandman from rise of the guardians?… Im still keeping it.
-Get inside drawings, This is just for a scene I imagine Aster shrinking and walking around inside Asha's sketch book, I think that's cute.
- Make a human disguise, I'll elaborate more on this when we get to talk about his design.
- He can grant wishes “but Anny you just said earlier he can’t—“ yes yes I know… he just grants them in his own unique way.
What gives him strength: Hopes and dreams
(Undertale reference? More likely than you think)
A wishing star purpose is to serve as a guide, that provides some magic intervention so that the wishmaker has the means to get to their goal.
As such, the stronger Asha’s hope, perseverance and passions are, the stronger and more limitless Star’s magic becomes. Like his magic abilities are charged up by Asha’s beliefs, the more she wants something, the more he can do for her.
Now, let’s talk about how Aster and other wishing stars that come to earth function, and to do that, we gotta go waaaaay back to another wish granting character in the Disney catalog.
The Blue Fairy- What can we learn from her?
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- We all know the blue fairy from Pinocchio, she is in a way the closest thing we have in the Disney canon that resembles the concept of Star, so I’m considering them as both the same kind of entity, they’re both wishing stars.
(not the same character tho, and I’ll get to that soon don’t you worry)
- You would think a character we see so little about doesn’t provide a lot of context, but she actually gives us a pretty good idea about what wishing stars can and can’t do.
- First thing she says when arriving is:
“Good Geppetto, you have given so much happiness to others. You deserve to have your wish come true.”
- From that, we can interpret that wishing stars only assume a human form and help those who are truly pure of heart and have spread kindness to others. Like Asha.
- Geppetto wished for Pinocchio to be a real boy, a human boy, but the blue fairy couldn’t grant that wish, because the only one who could make himself a real boy was Pinocchio himself.
“To make Geppetto’s wish come true will be enterely up to you. Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy"
- So, am I saying that Aster will just fly up to Asha and say “it’s all up to you to save your people… GOOD LUCK! 😊” sparkle some magic on her and leave?
- Well no although that would be funny, he’s not gonna do that, in fact, Aster will act way differently compared to the Blue Fairy.
- Although Aster can’t immediately make the people of Rosas “Have something more than this” he will do everything in his power to help Asha with anything she needs, and stay by her side the whole way through… Not at all what the Blue Fairy did.
- Lets say the Blue Fairy did exactly what a wishing star is supposed to do.
-She didn’t let herself be seen by anyone except Pinocchio and Jimminy Cricket, she only gave Pinocchio a few instructions and then left it all up to him, and even then when she went a bit beyond that to inform him that Geppetto was inside a whale she did so by sending a note… Almost like she couldn’t go back again to tell him personally… Interesting huh?
(I know the reason is because the animators would lose their minds if they had to draw that sparkly effect on her dress a third time but let’s pretend there’s more to it okay?)
- So we have her being the best role model of a wishing star… and then we have Aster...
-Doesn’t even know where to begin with helping Asha, chooses to stay on earth more than a day instead of just giving cryptic advice and leaving, was seen by multiple people aside from just Asha and Valentino, and worse of all, falls in love with his wish maker… yeah dude broke several rule… And the other stars ain’t happy about that.
- You could say the scale of Geppetto’s wish and Asha’s wish are way different, one just wants a son and the other wants to defeat two evil monarchs.
-But the stars don’t see it that way, to them every wish should be treated equally and it’s not their purpose to mingle with humans and change the course of their history.
- So you see, while the Blue Fairy could go back to the sky and then reappear anywhere she wanted… Aster won’t have that privilege.
-If he goes back to the sky he’s not coming back down, because the other stars won’t allow it, not after he broke their rules.
- Aster knows all that, because he can hear them talking to him, warning him to stop and go back to the sky… Aster keeps that information a secret from Asha for as long as they can…
- He knows after he’s done helping Asha they’ll never see each other again, but that’s fine, he’s willing to break every rule to help her…
- Oh also there’s a scene in Pinocchio where the Blue Fairy opens a lock to free Pinocchio from a cage… that’s why I said Aster can unlock doors… okay moving on to our boy backstory.
Backstory
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Yup, Aster has a backstory. And it all started in one fateful night:
An elderly man was taking a walk, carrying his granddaughter in his arms, she was just a few weeks old, but he couldn’t wait to show her how beautiful the stars looked that night.
He sat with her on a thick tree branch, and even though she couldn’t understand him, he was so happy telling her the names of each constellation.
In that moment, it seemed like everything was perfect.
But then that moment ended… He heard screams, and smelled smoke.
The elderly man ran back to his home, only to find it completely engulfed in a fire.
His granddaughter was now crying in his arms as he watched some neighbors trying to put down the fire, but to no avail.
His son and daughter-in-law were in there, he lost them both in an instant, the pain he felt in that moment was immeasurable.
In that moment of sorrow all he could do was look up, between the thick smoke he saw it… a small star.
With all his heart, Sabino wished upon it
“I wish my dear granddaughter, Asha, never feel such pain and sadness as I’m feeling in this moment”
A new wishing star was born.
Those words were the first thing Aster ever heard, it took a few years for him to even know what they meant, but as Asha and him grew older, he started to understand them.
He tried his best to make Asha as happy as she could be with the little that he was allowed to do.
Sometimes giving her inspiration for her drawings, other times sending her nice dreams after a bad day.
But he felt like he was failing her, no matter what he did, Asha would still go through sad times… Specially after her grandfather passed away.
Aster treasured every happy moment that he saw Asha experience, her making new friends, getting better with her drawings, dancing during wish ceremonies. Aster would shine brighter every time she was happy.
Point is: They were connected the whole time, and Aster already knew Asha even way before she wished upon him.
To be clear he wouldn’t just stay up there looking at Asha all day, he was also interested on everything else on earth in general.
But then, we have Asha’s 18th birthday, the day she had to give away her wish.
Aster knew what was really going on in Rosas, about what happened to most of the people’s wishes, and although that also saddened the other stars they all agreed they couldn't intervene unless someone from Rosas wished for their help.
So you can imagine how happy Aster was when Asha wished upon HIM, of all the stars, she looked at him and asked for his help! What are the chances?
If you could listen to them, you’d hear all the stars collectively whisper “oh…this might not end well…” as Aster flies down to earth going "YYYYYPIIIEEEEEEE!!!"
A Star Who Wishes To Be Human
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- I’ve made it very clear that Aster is different from the other stars, for the reason that he’s so young and so fascinated with life on earth.
- But there’s more than that, see, I mentioned before Aster can’t hurt anyone, and that’s not because he’s some holier-than-thou pacifist, it’s because his magic literally CAN’T hurt living beings.
- Because his magic is made of ✨hopes✨ and ✨kindness✨ and ✨everything nice✨, so even if they literally make a sword with his star dust, all it’ll do is give Magnifico some tickles.
- And Aster hates that.
- He wishes he could be more useful to Asha… wait, “wishes”?
- That’s silly, a star is not supposed to “wish” for anything, to have wants, that’s a human thing... And yet here he is wanting to protect Asha in any way possible.
- This drive to protect Asha runs even deeper than just the wish he received from her grandfather or the wish she made, Aster feels as if it's a wish that comes within him.
- Aster would question why they feels this way, is it love? Can’t be that right? A star can’t fall in love…
- The same way a star can’t taste food, or smell the flowers, or feel temperature…
- But Aster wishes they could, Aster wishes he knew what food tasted like, what was the smell of the flowers and the morning dew, but most of all… Aster wished he could feel Asha’s warmth, the same way she feels when they embraced.
- This would be Aster internal conflict for most of the movie. They’d realize that they can’t be with Asha forever, but Aster wanted to at least confess his feelings before they went to enact their plan to defeat the king and queen, that’s when we’d get “At All Cost”.
- Soooo a bit of a spoiler to this rewrite, I’m basically telling a story all out of order at this point, but here goes, Aster does become human by the end, after the king and queen are defeated, the stars realize that punishing Aster for breaking their rules wouldn’t be fair after he did so much good, and also because some of them can’t stand him so they decide “hey, let’s leave him there” and just ask him to return his magic back to the sky.
- Once Aster accepts, his magic would be turned into a brand new star, that shines brighter than all the others, because it carries all the magic that Aster accumulated by helping Asha and all of Rosas. And thus we’d get an origin story for THE wishing star.
Design
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Aster has brown skin, sparkly freckles and blond hair that shines and moves almost like a candle.
He dresses up as a prince, with the classic cape we see in classic princes like in Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.
They choose that form because he recalls that Asha used to read a lot about princes that would help princesses in need, so he thinks it's fitting to at least looks like one to help Asha
"But I'm not a princess"
"I know, you're just pretty like one!"
A itty bitty detail I didn't mention until now: Aster would be hand drawn animated, while everything else would be 3D, and his animation would change as the movie progressed.
By change I mean he'd start in a very sketchy looking animation, like it's being drawn very frantically to reflect how excited he is to help Asha, but as the movie progresses he'd be drawn with more detail and with more fluid movements.
This would serve to both represent his character development, showing him becoming more mature and learning what it means to be human, and also a reference to how Disney's animation evolved over the years.
He can make a human disguise, as I mentioned earlier, but that would require him to keep his magic hidden somewhere, in this case, a round stone that holds his cape together on his chest.
Once his magic was all kept inside this stone he'd turn into a 3D animated character, however his movements wouldn't feel... quite right, like he'd be animated in a different frame-rate compared to everyone else, so you could tell he was struggling to make himself move like a human, and people would be able to tell there was something off about him.
In the end when he turned into a human for real he'd become 3D animated with the right frame-rate, and his hair would no longer be blonde, but rather brown, like his eyebrows (Tangled reference? yup)
Final Thoughts
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This was DEFINITELY the hardest one to translate my thoughts into words! My gosh this took so long to write.
Don't know if you could tell but I'm very passionate about this scrapped idea of a human looking star falling in love with our protagonist, and no it's not just for the ✨aesthetic✨.
I don't think it's wise to throw a romance when writing a story just because you feel like it, a romance needs to progress both the story and the characters involved, think of it like how Naveen learned with Tiana the importance of working hard, while in turn showing her that life can also be fun. They complete each other, and I want the same for Asha and Aster.
Asha needs to learn that she shouldn't feel guilty for wishing more for herself, she worries too much about others and what others may think of her that she forgets her own self worth, and Aster shows her that she not only can wish for things for herself, but she can also accomplish anything she sets her mind to. From becoming an amazing artist that can give movement to her drawings to the leader of a rebellion against two evil monarchs, she can do it all.
Meanwhile, Aster needs to learn that what Asha's grandfather wished upon him is an impossible task, for Asha to always be happy, that's impossible, because sadness is a part of life, its a part of being human, and that's what he learns, what it means to be human, to fail, get up and try again. As a wishing star Aster always knew that humans had to fail a bunch of times before having their wishes granted but he could never imagine how hard that actually was, and Asha's perseverance even with all odds against her is what makes him love her even more.
I talked a lot about why Aster loves Asha, so I should probably mention what Asha sees in him too. Asha get's a lot of laughs from Aster's innocent reactions to natural things on earth, like how dazzled he is seeing the sun rise for the first time, how he just stops and starts chatting with animals and plants like a damn disney princess, or how he randomly starts rambling about how some constellations don't look at all like the animals they're named after "Like, seriously, why did they name that one a lynx? That's obviously a snake hehehe"
But most importantly she loves how caring he is, how he's supportive and passionate about her interests just as much as she is, and how he makes her feel safe, and in turn she wants to protect him too.
I'm honestly debating with myself how I want Aster to go about the information he has known Asha all his life, like, I imagine he'd probably want to hide the fact because he didn't want to talk about the sad tragedy that led to her grandfather wishing upon him, yes Asha knows about the fire but he doesn't want to remind her and make her sad, because remember, at first he doesn't understand that sadness is just part of life.
But then like, would he pretend to not know her? Or would he be like a ghibli character and just nonchalantly say "Oh yeah, I’ve always known you" and never elaborate on that until the story demands it?
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… Great, now I just had the idea of Aster functioning like Haku from Spirited Away, like they don't remember where he knows Asha from because he forgot what their previous wish was now that he’s granting a new one, let's say stars can only remember one wish at a time, then as he gets to know her better he starts to remember what his first wish was, and things start to make more sense.
I don’t know, like that’s cute but might be a bit too complicated, y’all tell me, I’m throwing ideas and seeing what makes sense, this whole thing is me asking for feedback after all.
Honestly I think the idea of Aster knowing Asha the whole time works because it not only gives a better explanation to why a star came down from the sky to help her, but also gives more sense to the lyrics “you still amaze me after all this time” in At All Cost.
Welp, I think that's all I got, thank you so much for following along with this series, and don't worry I'm not over yet, there are a few characters to talk about before I start sharing the actual script of this rewrite.
Thank You For Reading!
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shanastoryteller · 5 months
Note
happy winter time! naruto, dealer's choice. thank you!
a continuation of 1
Sakura is terrified that she’s going to mess this up.
Naruto’s never been mean to her, and has complimented her hair several times, but they’re not really friends. Back when she was friends with Ino, she’d see her at the Yamanaka compound sometimes and they’d play together, but she doubts Naruto remembers that.
Sakura doesn’t think she and Sasuke have ever had an actual conversation. He used to be the center of all their competitive crushes, to his hilarious dismay, but then he got betrothed to Naruto and no one was willing to piss off the hokage’s daughter by flirting with her fiance.
Well, besides Ino, but everyone knows she does it just because Sasuke hates it and Naruto feels duty bound to defend him.
Also because Shikamaru ended up taking Sasuke’s place as Cutest (and Available) Boy and Ino would rather stab herself in the eye than bat her eyelashes at Shikamaru, even if that means there’s a social game she can’t win.
Sakura's on a team with son of the Uchiha clan head and the hokage’s daughter, Rookie of the Year and Top Kunoichi, and their sensei isn’t even some normal jounin, but the Inuzuka clan head.
Tsume-sensei seems dismayed when they pass, although Sakura thinks she should have expected this. Naruto and Sasuke have been working as a team for even longer than they’ve been engaged.
Maybe she’s just surprised that they folded Sakura in with them instead of leaving her behind. Honestly, she’s pretty surprised by that too.
“Does this mean we get a dog?” Naruto asks brightly as Sasuke picks twigs out of her hair. “Mom says I only get one pet and doesn’t believe me that the frog doesn’t count.”
“No,” Tsume-sensei snaps, then, “Maybe, I don’t know. I hadn’t actually expected that I’d have to train you, fuck.”
Sakura can’t see this going well.
~
Naruto walks home with Sasuke, because her mother is working late to avoid her father and her father is working late to avoid the fact that her mother is working late to avoid him.
She wishes they’d just get a divorce. Maybe they will now that she’s legally an adult. Maybe she’ll move out and take herself out of the equation.
She won’t. But she thinks about it a lot.
“Maybe it’s good that it’s Tsume,” she says. “Sakura’s biggest weakness is her conditioning and you know that Tsume will train us into the dirt.”
Sasuke hums. “Maybe we should introduce her to Gai.”
She stares. “Do you hate Sakura?”
“She’s fine,” he says dismissively. “It’s too bad we didn’t get Hinata, but both my father and hers would have thrown a fit and gone to complain to yours. He’s the best at taijutsu, if she joins Team Nine’s morning workouts then she’ll be up to par in no time.”
“If it doesn’t kill her,” Naruto says dryly. “Why don’t we see what Tsume cooks up first, yeah? The first chunin exam is months away. She has time.”
“How do you know Tsume will sign us up for that one?” he asks, although by the glint in his eye he already knows.
Naruto answers anyway. “Tsume is going to take the first opportunity to get rid of us that she can, which would be the chunin exams. She’ll be praying for us to either pass or die.”
He laughs, a breathy sound that wouldn’t qualify coming from anyone else.
They arrive at the Uchiha compound and she stares at it wistfully. After helping uncover the almost betrayal, every Uchiha is nice to her now. The compound is so warm and bright and everyone is happy to see her and there’s always somewhere she can go.
“You can join me,” Sasuke says. “Mom always makes extra.”
Just in case she shows up.
“They’ll be expecting me to be home after the test,” she says, trying not to sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Sasuke nods, a pinched look on his face that she pretends not to notice.
When they get married, she hopes they live in the compound.
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cherienymphe · 1 year
Text
Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​
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➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”
You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.
That opportunity had long passed.
You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.
…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.
Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.
Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.
“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.
You’d shrugged.
“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.
Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.
“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”
That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.
It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.
Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.
You didn’t know how to feel about that either.
On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.
What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.
Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…
…and there were many times you worried that would be you.
As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.
“Hello, Peter.”
The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.
“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”
“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”
She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.
Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.
You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.
Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.
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“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”
Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.
It was your birthday?
You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.
The thought made you…sad.
This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.
Now…
Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”
You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.
“I shouldn’t be here…”
Realization hit Peter as he sighed.
“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”
“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.
You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.
“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”
Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.
“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”
You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.
“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.
You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.
Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.
You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.
Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.
“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”
You blinked, frowning a bit.
“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”
You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.
“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.
You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.
“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”
You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.
It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.
When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.
“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”
He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.
“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”
He rested his chin on the back of your hand.
“Just like I am every time I look at you…”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.
“You understand…?”
You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.
“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”
Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”
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You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.
The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.
You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.
You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.
Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.
…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.
The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.
You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.
“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”
“Sit down, Peggy.”
Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.
When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.
“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”
You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.
“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”
“Steve-.”
“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”
You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.
“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”
Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.
“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”
More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.
“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”
“Steve,” Margaret murmured.
“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”
With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.
“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”
You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.
“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”
The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.
“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”
Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.
The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.
Nothing about any of this was good.
You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.
“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”
Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.
“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”
“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”
“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”
You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.
“I want my mom,” you cried.
The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.
“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.
You pressed your lips together, looking away.
“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”
Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.
“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”
“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.
“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”
“Peter-.”
“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”
He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.
“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”
He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.
“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”
You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.
“…maybe it still can be…”
You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.
“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.
“Peter-.”
You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.
“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.
He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.
“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.
His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.
“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”
You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.
He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.
“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”
1K notes · View notes
autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
Text
My Dearest La
Dear La
Lance,
I really hate it when you’re right.
I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.
I miss you.
You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad
The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.
Love,
Warm regards,
Sincerely,
Love,
Keith
———
“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”
The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.
“Yes, Blade?”
Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.
“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”
The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.
“A… favour.”
All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.
The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.
“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”
The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —
“As have you.”
— but his eyes are soft and knowing.
Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.
“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.
And yet.
“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”
“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.
The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”
———
“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.
“Grandfather! You’re well!”
“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.
She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”
He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”
“A letter?”
“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”
“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”
“Pass it along then,” he suggests.
She promises she will.
———
A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”
A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”
A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”
A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”
A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.
———
A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:
“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”
———
A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.
“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.
———
Lance,
I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.
Anyways.
Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.
Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.
I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?
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I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.
I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.
I love you more than the stars
Love, and lots of it,
Keith
———
“Hey, Sedrit.”
His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.
She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.
“What do you want, shithead.”
He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”
“Ugh.”
But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.
“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”
She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.
“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”
———
“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”
“What for?”
“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”
———
“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”
———
“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”
“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”
“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”
———
Lance’s door slide opens.
“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”
Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.
“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.
You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.
He grins.
“What is that?”
“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.
This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.
“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”
When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.
———
Lance, my love,
I know we do not talk about the observation deck.
It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.
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When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.
Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.
Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.
I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.
Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.
Keith
———
Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.
Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.
“Just — one time,” Keith begs.
“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.
“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”
For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.
“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”
Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.
“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.
Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.
———
“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”
“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”
“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”
“…I miss them too.”
———
Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.
You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.
———
My Lance,
I hate it here.
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I miss you.
———
Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.
He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.
———
CLASSIFIED
FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY
BIOMETRICS REQUIRED
WILL SELF DESTRUCT
———
There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.
He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.
———
My love,
Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.
Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —
Naxzela.
It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.
I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.
I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.
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Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.
Naxzela.
———
He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.
———
When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.
It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.
———
The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.
Soon, sweetheart.
He sobs into the half-burned paper.
———
“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”
———
Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.
He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.
“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.
His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.
Well, that simply won’t do.
“Lance, baby, look at me.”
“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”
Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.
“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”
“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.
“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.
He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.
———
all art by @mothmanavenue
concept from this post
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thoughtsforsoob · 3 months
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im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise
CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER
a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!
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You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.
you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.
Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.
He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!
you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"
he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"
he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.
when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.
once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.
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