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happilysmythe · 2 months

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❥ 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

trent frederic.

word count: 2.2k

warning: explicit content

"you the medication when i'm feeling anxious" — ariana grande

- - -

“D’you think anyone would notice if we went to the bathroom at the same time?”

Your head whipped around to face Trent, who had his face buried in his phone, scrolling through his music. The nonchalant expression that was present on his face made you wonder if he even said anything to begin with.

“Sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“Trent, we’re…we’re on a plane,” you pointed out timidly, “with your teammates.”

A soft chuckle left his lips; an action made to taunt you. And taunt you, it did. You loved him, but god, he had a way of making you feel utterly embarrassed sometimes.

“Never done that on a plane before?” he asked you, turning his head ever-so-slightly so he could see you out of the corner of his eye.

“Actually, yes, I have.”

Your comment piqued his interest. “That so?”

“Once. And it sucked. Royally,” you told him promptly, looking back down at the magazine between your hands. “So I’d prefer not to have to do it again.”

“Tell you what,” he spoke, standing up from his seat, placing his phone down and reaching his hand out. “Try it, and if you hate it again, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

Truthfully, the offer seemed enticing. Hell, Trent was your boyfriend. You should’ve trusted that he’d know what he was doing. And shit, there wasn’t much in the world that you loved more than the way he fucked you—hands on your waist, your neck, lips touching every last inch of your body.

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed, standing with him and allowing him to guide you toward the bathroom. Shamefully, you walked down the aisle, following closely behind your boyfriend.

“God, I feel like they’re all looking at us.”

He laughed. “The last thing they’re doing is paying attention, babe. Trust me. Just keep walking.”

You finally reached the door, on it a small plaque with the word lavatory engraved into the metal. A prompt check of his surroundings was made before he nudged the door open, holding it in place as his hand pushed you inside by the small of your back. The door clicked shut behind you and he locked it, then made his way over to you.

“There’s…a lot more room in this one,” you swallowed.

“Just enough,” he mumbled before leaning down and pushing his lips to yours.

Every time he kissed you, your body gave into him, and this time was no different. Every worry, every disapproving thought you had vanished in an instant. He was intoxicating; so fucking irresistible, and your mind struggled to conjure up an excuse or reason to stop, even though you could’ve rattled off near thousands before.

He knew exactly what he did to you, and that was why he proposed that little deal in the first place. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you’d accept his offer.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, meeting yours and slowly tangling with it. You relished in the feeling as his hands slid down to your waist, feet taking slow steps backward, hands pulling you with him.

He sat on the closed toilet cover and pulled you into his lap in one swift motion, hand moving to your front and sliding up, palm flattening on your stomach.

“Is this okay?”

His voice was a quiet rasp. You looked down to find his eyes already looking up at you, waiting for your response. As far as he knew, you were still on the fence.

But you already knew that you were far from it.

You nodded sharply, giving him the go-ahead. He took this and slid his hand down from your stomach to your inner thigh. As he moved his hand up your thigh, the cold surface of his ring grazed your skin, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat.

He loved the sound of your moans. They fueled his ego, showed him what he did to you. Just how good he made you feel, even when he had yet to try.

He was thankful you’d chosen to wear a thin dress that day; he didn’t have to be burdened by pulling anything off. Instead, he was able to push the fabric of the dress slightly up your legs, granting him easy access to the lacy underwear that drove him positively nuts every time he saw it.

His face was buried in your neck within seconds, lips leaving soft kisses as his fingers reached the lace and pushed it aside. Slowly, he dragged his knuckles across the skin, the cold touch of the metal adding to the sensation. He grinned as he felt your hips roll slightly. You were struggling to keep still, and he knew it, which was why it was all the more sweet for him.

“Not so bad, is it?” he cooed, tongue grazing just under your jaw.

“No,” your response weakly sounded, “it’s not.”

“Mm,” he agreed, then pulled back and brought his hand up to his face briefly.

Your eyes widened with shock when spit left his mouth and hit his fingers, leaving them shiny as he rubbed them together and slid them back between your thighs. Then, it was the sound of another faint moan falling from your lips as he carefully pushed them into you, making sure to keep you as quiet as possible.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for stability, nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt that you couldn’t wait to take off once the two of you got home.

He kissed you again, his mouth stifling the moans threatening to break loose as he slowly moved his fingers up and down. With them, your hips moved once more, bringing that cocky grin back to his face again while he continued to move his hand.

He didn’t plan on making this last for long—oh, no—he had other ideas. This was only him getting you ready for him, and truthfully, you practically already were from the start. There wasn’t much time for fooling around, or else the two of you would begin to run the risk of getting caught.

So his fingers were gone almost as fast as they came, the loss of his touch prompting a whimper to escape your throat. “Trent, why—”

“Shh,” he demanded, cutting you off, and you couldn’t help but sit in confusion.

A part of him enjoyed seeing you so needy. The satisfaction of making you squirm with just the denial of his fingers brought him the sense of control that he desperately needed. And he loved how quick you were to listen to his every word.

But he always made sure to reward you; he wasn’t the type to take without giving.

And it didn’t take long for you to piece together what he was doing once you noticed his hand fumbling with his pants. Soon, you found your hand moving down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly, earning a low groan of approval. With all of the times he’d been vocal about how much he loved that feeling, he didn’t even have to say it.

But, of course, he did it anyway.

“Fuck,” he rasped, “you’re so good.” He moaned again, hands molding to your waist and beginning to adjust your position. As he lifted you, your hand began to carefully line him up with you, and he sucked in a breath.

“Wait,” he paused. “Did you—”

“I never miss a day, Trent,” you quickly responded, cutting him off. “You’re good.”

He nodded sharply, then tightened his grip on your waist and lowered you onto him, the sound of mixed moans filling both his and your ears. You leaned forward slightly, placing both hands on his shoulders again as he shifted in your stomach, effectively rendering you unstable.

He loved filling you bare; he felt every bit of movement that way. Every sensation when you’d come apart around him. Not to mention it was a much easier cleanup to tackle.

“God, you feel so good,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“So do you.”

His eyes flitted up to yours as he squeezed your waist, silently asking for your approval to start moving. Of course, it was a no-brainer to you—a hard yes.

So you finally lifted yourself up slightly, then slowly sunk back down. You allowed his firm hands to guide you as you moved up and down, walls constricting around him in the process.

By now, your dress had ridden up your body; the fabric now sat just above your stomach, bundled up at your ribs. You could now feel his large, rough hands bare on your skin, cold ring digging into your side. And not only was he able to see how the lacy underwear—which you knew he loved—hugged your hips, but it also exposed the print of a small bulge in your stomach.

That just so happened to be the shape of his tip.

He could see the movement—every last inch of it—and he loved it.

It wasn’t just the visibility that you loved. It was the way his dick felt buried inside of you, filling you up with ease and hitting every single fucking spot imaginable. How deep he reached. It felt like he was made for you—you’d told him so countless times during sex—and this time proved to be no different.

For a moment, you forgot that you were on a plane with the rest of his professional hockey team. And when you let a moan slip that might have been just a tad bit too loud, Trent made sure to bring you back down to reality.

“Hey.”

Your head snapped up and aligned your gaze with his, your hips still grinding slowly. “Don’t be too loud. You don’t want to get us caught,” he cooed, giving your hips a squeeze.

You nodded sharply and buried your face in his neck as soft whimpers continued to spill from your lips. He sped up your movements slightly with his hands, a groan escaping his throat and humming against your mouth.

“Trent, fuck,” you mumbled weakly.

He felt you clench around him as he started to hit the sweet spot inside you, signaling to him that you were close. He finally removed a hand from your waist and brought it between your legs, thumbing the area gently and bringing you closer. Your reaction to the added sensation was telling—weaker, needier moans that were relentlessly pried from your throat.

“Like that, mm?”

“Yes.”

Finally, you tipped over the edge, his finger keeping up its pace and working you through your release. The moment your head began to lift he enveloped your mouth in another kiss, tongue slipping past your lips once more.

With a low groan into your mouth, he followed, spilling into you, the warmth beginning to spread throughout your stomach slowly. He moved his hand back up, this time finding purchase on your stomach to feel his gradually slowing movements under his palm.

You could feel the mixture of your releases between your legs, threatening to escape from the place you were joined. But luckily for you, it remained only there and inside.

Once the two of you finally calmed, your head fell to his shoulder, heavy breaths exiting through your parted lips as his arms wrapped fully around your waist, pulling you into him. He pressed small kisses to the side of your head as he let his breaths slow with yours, and the both of you chose to remain silent.

“See?” he finally spoke. “Not so bad.”

“No,” you replied softly, then lifted your head and smiled at him. “Not with you.”

He smiled back and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, then settled his hands on your hips again. Carefully, he lifted you off of him and allowed you to fix yourself while he did the same. He gripped the fabric of your dress and gently slid it back down your body. Finally, you stood up, reflexively reaching out to grab him when you realized the need for stability.

“I’ve got you.” He stood up with you and pulled you in, his fingers pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You go out first, mk? I’ll come out in a few.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly.

He leaned down and kissed you for the last time and loosened his grip on you, allowing you to walk out of the bathroom and timidly make your way back to your seat. He waited for a few minutes, checking his hair in the mirror and wiping his hands clean of any mess left on them.

You saw him coming back out of the corner of your eye and looked up, watching him closely as he sat back down next to you. Your hand subconsciously stuck out, silently asking for him to take it in his and he obliged without hesitation, thumb gently grazing the skin.

Not long ago, he’d started to notice how you would tend to become needier after sex—you only wanted to be closer to him—and he thought it was just about the sweetest thing, even now.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he turned, kissing it softly as he continued to hold your hand in his.

“Think you’d do it again?” he asked, his voice a near whisper.

“Definitely.”

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