#16.) Mirror / Get The Matches | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alicentofhightower · 5 months ago

Text

being the targtower’s youngest sister would include…

pairings: platonic!alicent hightower x daughter!reader, platonic!aegon targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!helaena targaryen x sister!reader, platonic!aemond targaryen x sister!reader

synopsis: what it’s like to be the youngest daughter of the green queen.

includes: reader being the only somewhat normal targtower, i went overboard on aegon’s are we surprised, might be ooc, sorry for how short alicent’s is i wasn’t feeling much inspo for her

a/n: one of my favorite things about alicent’s dynamic with her children is that they all represent a part of her: aegon, being used for politics, helaena, her innocence that she used to have, and aemond, her rage and thirst for power. so i decided to have reader represent alicent’s devotion to her family and her “duty”. hotd is so weird abt character ages so for my sanity aegon is 20, helaena is 18, aemond is 17, and reader is 16 in this. forget daeron pls

Alicent

Alicent has incredibly complicated relationships with her children. They are mirrors of her anguish, but her blood nonetheless. She will protect you and your siblings with her life, if necessary, but she also cannot look you in the eye without a pit of guilt settling in her stomach.

She feels nauseous when Viserys has you betrothed to a Lord from the Crownlands, but apart of her is satisfied with the match, though only because it means you will be allowed to stay in the Red Keep instead of leaving her.

She is just as gentle as she is with Helaena as she is with you. You are one of the only good things that have come from her. She cherishes you. When word of your pregnancy spreads through the Keep, Alicent orders an abundance of maternity gowns for you from Myr. She will always, without fail, offer you a guiding hand when going up large sets of stairs.

By all means, she is not a perfect mother, but she does what she can. She gifts you lots of her own accessories, like the hairnet she wore during Aegon’s second nameday celebration. Helaena is her “dearest love”, and you are her “sweetness.”

Trying to include you in her own private matters is one of the only ways she can spend time with you. She takes you to the Sept with her when she can, though her eyes are always averted from you.

That is one of the other strange things you’ve noticed about your mother; she can never make eye contact with you. Perhaps it is because you are with child just as she was at your age.

When the time comes, she cannot be by your side to hold your hand while you give birth. It’s improper. But she is overjoyed that both you and your son are healthy.

— “You have done well, my sweetness,” Your mother whispers, voice soft and melancholic and warm. Grand Maester Orwyle, bless him, had propped you up on great plush pillows after you’d finished your labors. He’d quietly congratulated you and helped you get comfortable in your bed, then had left you to rest.

She sits on the edge of your mattress, right by your side, thumb gingerly tracing your cheek. The forest green she’s clad in brings out the auburn of her hair. “The babe is a beautiful one. A handsome son for the realm. I am… proud of you.”

Articulating her thoughts has never been her strong point. It is the hour of the owl now. The only sounds you can hear are the padding of raindrops against the tall windows in your chambers and the crackling of the hearth.

“Aegon’s birth came quick for me as well,” She mutters, almost to herself. Peculiarly, she clings to the little ways you are alike to one another; they are fading as the days pass by. Her brows furrow as her mind begins to race.

Your firstborn sons’ births had come with ease. You were both married off far too early in your lives. In girlhood, you had both favored naive stories of brave knights and pretty ladies and romance. You both committed yourself to duty to further the family—

She stops the list she’s making in her head there. Far more resolutely than before, as if putting a wall around herself again, she kisses your forehead and retracts into herself.

“I shall leave you be. Good night.”

Aegon

For Aegon, news of a new sibling is unsurprising. It’s the same old thing to see his mother waddling around the castle, belly swollen. He’s a little indifferent when you’re born.

As a teen, though, Aegon is certainly the type to smack you a bit too hard in the training yard and then shush you, begging for you to hit him just as hard before you wail too loud and one of your mother’s handmaidens hear and alert her of it.

It makes him feel shameful, the first time you see him drunk, stinking of the whores of Flea Bottom and sweat. You promise to not tell anyone of it, if he, in exchange, does not do it again. He still does. You still do not tell.

After the events of Driftmark, you are the one to cut his hair short. Seeing Aemond bloody and bruised had frightened you, caused you to weep in front of the crowd in the great hall, and you’d tearfully asked Aegon if you could sleep in his bed together that night. He forces you to help him trim his waves the next morning as “repayment”, though he did not actually mind it.

You grow closer as you become older. To Aegon, you are the only one who has a semblance of faith in him; your mother was constantly repulsed by him, as was your grandsire and own father. Aemond had given up on him a long, long time ago, and Helaena focused on the children far more.

On his better days, Aegon likes to fly on your dragons together. Seeing you windswept and almost free is strangely satisfying for him; he misses when you both hadn’t been burdened by what your parents had put on you. In the dead of night, he likes to imagine what life would have been like if he hadn’t been forced to marry Helaena, and you your “fat, old husband”, as he put it.

Speaking of, he’d made a great fuss at your wedding. That was the angriest he’d ever saw you; he’d drunk himself half to death at the celebration afterward, made a fool of himself when he got into a fist fight with one of your husband’s brothers. Even the bards had stopped singing to stare at the spectacle. You’d almost lost your voice that night from how loud you’d yelled at him, asking when he’d ever think of anyone but himself, cheeks flushed from deep embarrassment.

“You know of my apprehension when it comes to large events such as these, and yet you cannot steel yourself for one night for my sake? What will you do when Jaehaera is married? Light the castle aflame?”

(You do not know the reason he’d done such a thing was to make such a big scene your consummation ceremony would be an afterthought. That, and the fact he was drunk and angry.)

Some part of him feels guilty when you get pregnant. He knows, deep down, that he had no part in it, and he could not control your fate, no matter if his efforts were weak or strong. But he was still your elder brother, was he not?

One day, while you sit in a rocking chair and he plays with the twins in their nursery, you tell him, “I should like for my son to be like you.” Aegon says, quietly, that yours will be better than he ever was, with you as his mother. He vanishes back into the Street of Silk soon after that.

One of his best qualities is being able to make light of anything, and he does just that after your labors, laughing at how disheveled you are and kissing your forehead. It’s hard not to laugh with him.

Days later, at his coronation, you are the first he looks to for approval, after your mother. The subtle nod you give him makes him wonder how you would’ve reacted if he had been successful in running to Essos. He hopes neither Aemond or Cole told you of what he’d said.

After becoming king, Aegon grows to value your input more and more. On his council, he feels you are the only one to genuinely listen to his concerns and thoughts when it comes to winning the war, and so he ignores the disapproving looks the men around him give him when you come to the meetings.

He does not mention your dragon when discussing battle plans, almost seems to ignore it when Lord Jasper brings you up; your dragon is great and strong, and he knows he will have to utilize you one day, but he refuses to think of it until it’s absolutely necessary. His mind has already been spoiled by what he has seen in brothels and taverns, and he imagines it will only further be by the sights of war. Aegon will do everything he can to avoid what happened to him happening to you.

The assassins Daemon hired infiltrate the Red Keep. They kill his son, leave with his head in a sack. Aegon rages and drinks and rages. He will not allow even you to see his tears, but he cannot stop them from soaking the cloth of your dress when you hug him tenderly, as if afraid he’ll slip through your hands like sand.

Bile floods into his mouth when Otto suggests wheeling his son’s body through the city to secure the approval of the smallfolk. The image of you insisting on going instead of his mother is burned into his brain. “If you will force Helaena, then at least spare Mother and allow me to go,” You’d begged. It does nothing.

As foolish as he can be, Aegon is also not one to forget what others have done for him. You were the only one who’d taken his side against your grandfather. He is glad he was not forced to marry you, glad that he did not force you to a brothel as he did Aemond; he is glad that he has not ruined you.

Aegon’s visits to your child become less and less frequent. He loves the boy dearly, like he’s his own, but he cannot stand to look at him. It’s only a reminder of what happened to his little Jaehaerys.

Rook’s Rest destroys him. He does not even need to tell you that it was Aemond who did it, you just seem to know. There is no way for him to verbalize that he is listening to you while he is in his milk-of-the-poppy induced coma, but he does appreciate the stories you tell him while sitting at his bedside.

He specifically forbids you from looking at him while the Maesters change out his bandages, but he’ll allow you to sit on the other end of his bed with your back to him and hold his unburnt hand while they do so.

— “I feel a monster,” He admits to you one night while you light a candle on the stand next to his bed. You’re clad in a warm nightgown; many whisper that winter is coming, and it’s hard not to notice with how cold the breezes have been lately.

“Why is that?”

“You know why.”

You can’t even fight the scoff that comes from you, and you turn back to him with a frown etched deeply into your face. “You should not. You are king.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “That did not stop our cunt of a brother from burning me like the Conqueror did Harrenhal.”

Huffing, you smooth out your dress, then walk to the other side of the bed and slowly crawl on. You’re careful not to move around too much, so as to not cause him any more injury, and sit next to him, back against the headboard. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around your legs. His eyes are slightly glossy when they meet yours.

He takes a sharp breath. “…If it had been my decision, I would have named you regent.”

You laugh incredulously at that, shaking your head. “They set aside Mother for Aemond. They would have forced you to do the same.”

Aegon raises his remaining silver brow. “I am not as feeble and weak-minded as Father. I speak truly. It is you I trust the most.”

Helaena

Helaena is perhaps the least expressive out of all of your siblings, but even she felt happy when Mother’s babe had come a girl.

She does genuinely appreciate that you do not judge her and make fun of her behind her back; she has never felt like she has been able to fit in with her ladies-in-waiting.

As mature as she is, Helaena does like to indulge girlishly sometimes; she enjoys matching her gowns with you, as well as hairstyles and (light, so as to not overstimulate her) jewelry.

Observant and introspective, Helaena also has a great memory. If you tell her you’ve had a fascination with direwolves as of late, or have particularly enjoyed reading about Valyrian history, suddenly the dresses she gifts you will subtly be embroidered with subtle little wolf icons or ancient Valyrian imagery. She is very thoughtful.

Unbeknownst to most, she also gives very good advice. There have only been a handful of times her council has not helped you. Wise and empathetic, she is, and she is always willing to listen to you explain your troubles while she plays with one of her bugs.

It pains her to see you inflicted with the same fate as she was; married off to a man you had no love for, forced to be his incubator. Just as it was during Aegon’s coronation, her head is bowed at your wedding. She does not want to look at your doom.

Despite this, she is perhaps the most supportive of you during your pregnancy; she likes suggesting names for the babe as well as crafting him little clothes for him to wear when he is born.

Although you do not understand her prophecies, it does quell her anxieties a bit that you at least listen to them instead of dismissing them like all else do.

When noise gets to be too much for her, you are the first to cover her ears with your hands, guiding her to the lush gardens of the Keep to breathe. You are the only person she has a likeness of boundaries with; when she does not want to be touched, you leave her be. It’s why you are the sibling she is fondest of.

Her hand immediately flies to grasp yours when Meleys erupts from the boards at Aegon’s coronation. The look on her face had confused you. She’d appeared fearful, but simultaneously also put at ease, as if she’d known that this was going to happen.

After Blood and Cheese, she cannot find rest at night. She takes to pacing about the Red Keep, almost looking like a ghost; pale and silver and paranoid. Despite the fact that it distracts you from your own slumber, you insist on her staying in your chambers with you. She still paces, never sleeps. Some nights you even walk with her around the castle.

— “This one will not live,” She blurts out randomly, interrupting you from one of your tangents, confusing you. She never interrupts you, always listens to whatever your qualms are for the day without complaint.

“What?”

You feel like you’re about to burst; partly from the grand lamb you had for your midday meal and from how heavy the babe in your belly feels. She seems surprised that the words had actually come out of her mouth.

She pushes her face closer to the fly she has somehow managed to capture in her palm, a perturbed glint in her eye. “I do not think this one will survive.”

You decide to indulge her, tilting your head to the side from where you sit across from her, lounging on a velvet sofa. “Why is that?”

“The art of the spider is subtle. It shall trap another in its web.”

(Later that day, you can only wonder if she was speaking of Lord Vaemond after he’d been beheaded by Prince Daemon from behind.)

Aemond

Aemond can barely remember the day you were born, much less the day a celebration had been held for Mother’s pregnancy.

Alike to his siblings, Aemond is not one to forget what you did for him when you were children; how you always offered to take him on rides on your dragon before he’d claimed Vhagar, how you were the only one uninvolved in the “pink dread” incident, how you cried for him after he lost his eye.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond begins to put a wall around himself. Unfortunately, that does include you. Before Driftmark, you were closest with him, but afterward, you had slowly drifted toward Aegon; nevertheless, he shows his affection for you in his own way.

However, he does keep the little gifts you’ve given him over the years safely hidden in his chambers, away from the eyes of curious maids and servants, like the eyepatch you’d embroidered a little Vhagar in in the weeks after his eye was cut out.

When Vaemond’s head is cut off, Aemond immediately places a hand on the pommel of his sword, lest Daemon himself attack you next. When he becomes regent, he is the one who orders you to be given a sworn protector. He is the one who’d help you learn Valyrian when you struggled, even after all your lessons.

Aemond never, never shows much affection to anyone in the family publicly, but he doesn’t mind it if you place a hand on his forearm or his own hand. He prefers it if you keep things like cheek or forehead kisses private in the sanctity of your or his own room.

In his immediate family, you are perhaps the most normal of all, which does make him seek out your company the most. The mornings after he seeks out Madame Sylvi’s assistance are the mornings he spends the most time with you. The shame of it all almost eats him alive, and you are a welcome distraction.

Additionally, the one-eyed prince does genuinely appreciate how you show your devotion to the family, though of course he’d never verbalize it. Almost every training yard session he has, you sit on the balcony, embroidering a dress or two while he swings his sword at Criston’s morningstar.

Your wedding to some old Crownlands lord was a memorable one, mostly because of when Aegon had pinned your new brother-by-law to a table and began beating him senselessly. Aemond was the one who had pried him off, mercilessly tugging him by the collar of his doublet away from the man.

You become pregnant quick. Aemond says that when your son is born, he will bring him to meet Vhagar himself, stating that a “new Targaryen babe should learn the ways of his predecessors”.

As the moons pass by, the Maesters order you to bedrest. Your elder brother likes to visit during his free time, sometimes bringing a book with him to read or nothing, just to converse with you quietly. You are the only “quiet” Aemond has ever known.

When Rhaenys bursts through the boards at Aegon’s coronation, Aemond’s palm finds your wrist, gently grasping it with his long fingers.

Just as your mother does, you begin to shun Aemond after Luke’s murder. It does not make him resent you as much as it does Alicent, but it does make him spiral a bit quicker.

Many a time have you slept in Aemond or Aegon’s bed because of nightmares. The only time he’s ever slept in yours was the night Aegon had found him in the brothel with Sylvi. You had not been awake when he’d crawled into bed with you, just laying beside you and shutting his eye. He makes sure to leave before you wake. Aemond does not know that you were quite aware of his presence, but had chosen not to say anything. If Aemond of all people had decided to find sleep in your bed, something awful must’ve happened. Why take that moment of respite from him?

He knows that you know he burned Aegon, but he does not ever bring it up in a conversation with you, much less acknowledge it. However, Aemond is observant. He notices the fearful glint in your eye when he is around you, now, but this is what he has always wanted, has he not? To rule?

— Aemond is with you the morn after Blood and Cheese, standing in one of the Red Keep’s balconies as you watch the wagon carrying your mother and Helaena depart. Your eyes are sunken in from crying, cheeks swollen; you wear a veil of mourning yourself, though there is no crown settled on your head. The way you lean over the railing to peer at the ground, the way your back is hunched, the way you grieve so openly.. it does not befit a princess. It does not befit someone from the Targaryen family, someone who is supposed to use honeyed words and cunning tricks to protect themself from the environment of King’s Landing.

You sniffle. “Where were you?”

Aemond’s eye goes wide. A deep pit was already settled in his stomach, but it only seems to get worse at your questioning. Even his throat seems to tighten up, make it impossible for him to even choke out an answer.

“When news of… the boy spread,” You begin, “I went to find you myself. But you were not in your chambers, nor in the library. Where were you?”

“Patrolling.” It’s an obvious lie. He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth, jaw clenching immediately. There was no use in patrolling at night, when he could barely see anything. His hand unconsciously squeezes the stone railing.

He’s ready to leave with haste when you nod to yourself, face blank and detached from reality. “…I won’t tell anyone,” You mutter, just loud enough for him to hear. “Wherever you were.”

#house of the dragon x reader #platonic hotd x reader #hotd x reader #team green x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon the elder x reader #aegon the usurper x reader #hotd angst #house of the dragon angst #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x you #helaena targaryen x reader #helaena the dreamer x reader #helaena targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye x reader #aemond the kinslayer x reader

1K notes · View notes

tavolgisvist · 25 days ago

Text

'I look in the mirror'

At the Cavern, 1963, photo by Michael Ward

Photo by Mike McCartney

August 13, 1966, photo by Bob Bonis

We wrote with two guitars, John and I. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, the joy of that was that I was left-handed while he was right handed, so I was looking in a mirror and he was looking in a mirror. We would always tune up, have a ciggie, drink a cup of tea, start playing some stuff, look for an idea. Normally, one or the other of us would arrive with a fragment of a song. ‘Please Please Me’ was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of ‘please’. Yeah, ‘please’ is, you know, pretty please. ‘Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.’ He liked that, and I liked that he liked that. This was the kind of thing we’d see in each other, the kind of thing in which we were matched up. We were in sync.

(Paul McCartney, about Please Please Me in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by javelinbk

A lot of what we had going for us was that we were both good at noticing the stuff that just pops up, and grabbing it. And the other thing is that John and I had each other. If he was sort of stuck for a line, I could finish it. If I was stuck for somewhere to go, he could make a suggestion. We could suggest the way out of the maze to each other, which was a very handy thing to have. We inspired each other.

(Paul McCartney, about Eight Days A Week in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by nikidontsurf

When John and I met, the first year of our friendship was spent talking about these cover versions, the records we loved, and then playing them again and again. As we got to know each other, we practised these various covers until one day the conversation went, ‘You know, I’ve written one or two songs.’ And he said, ‘Yeah, so have I.’ That gave us something in common that was itself wholly uncommon. I went to a school of a thousand boys and I’d never met anyone who said he’d written a song. Mine were just in my head. So were John’s. We took each other by surprise. And then the logical extension was, ‘Well, maybe we could write one together.’ So that’s how we started. And we became versions of each other.

(Paul McCartney, about The Other Me in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by stewy

Q: "Can I ask you about Lewis Carroll?" A: "Oh, Lewis Carroll. I always admit to that because I love 'Alice In Wonderland' and 'Alice Through The Looking Glass.' But I didn't even know he'd written anything else. I was that ignorant. I just happened to get those for birthday presents as a child and liked them. And I usually read those two about once a year, because I still like them."

(John Lennon, June 16, 1965, interview for BBC)

Paul McCartney in his garden at Cavendish Avenue, 7; photo by Barry Lategan (for Observer 'What Makes A Man Stylish?', July 1968)

I think of the imagined world of Lewis Carroll [Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There] that John and I both loved so much.

(Paul McCartney, about I’ll Get You in The Lyrics, 2021)

We’d been together so much that if you had a question, we would both pretty much come up with the same answer. [about their hitchhike to Spain by way of Paris] <…> It’s a bit crude, but it’s fair to say that, in general, I’d had a good life and John hadn’t. His life had been tougher, and he had to develop a harder shell than I did. He was quite a cynical guy but, as they say, with a heart of gold. A big softy, but his shield was hard. So that was very good for the two of us. Opposites attract. I could calm him down, and he could fire me up. We could see things in each other that the other needed to be complete.

(Paul McCartney about Ticket To Ride in The Lyrics, 2021)

youtube

Sometimes I look in the mirror Is nobody there? But I just keep on staring and staring No Can it be? Can it be? Can it be? And if I look in the mirror And nobody´s there But I just keep on staring, and staring No Is it me? Is it me? Is it me?

(John Lennon, circa 1977)

331 notes · View notes

starsinscript · 7 months ago

Text

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ acts of service boyfriend ; cl16

summary ; you, and your boyfriend, charles, who loves performing acts of service, get ready for a night out.

tiktok ; yourusername

yourusername cuts from my recent grwm 😆 (yes we were late)

[video description: in the first clip, you're looking through your jewelry, when charles walks into the room. his voice is heard softly as his arms comes into frame, picking out a few bracelets. "i like these, ma chérie," he says, holding out the bracelets in your preferred metal, ones you had already been thinking of. "tu veux que je les mette pour toi?" he asks, slipping them on your wrist at your blushy smile. he squeezes your wrist, walking behind you to pick out a necklace. "this is nice, no?" he grins, the necklace unable to be seen in frame. you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. "it's very nice, cha." he walks behind you, moving your styled hair onto one of your shoulders to easily put the necklace on. you fiddle with the charm on the necklace, and when you move your hand to bring charles down for a kiss, the charm is out for all to see. 16. you cup charles' face and kiss him, pulling away giggling. "go get ready, cha." you say, pushing him away gently.

in the second clip, you're in front of your camera in your outfit, checking yourself out. charles walks back into the room, 'ooh'-ing at your outfit. he places his cup on your vanity, walking over to you. "une si jolie fille." he says, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing softly. he kisses your cheek before humming. "this is a nice fabric," he comments. "feels soft." you giggle, turning around to face him. his hands slide to the small of your back, pushing you closer. "you think?" charles hums, kissing you softly. "have you picked out your shoes?" he wonders, looking at your closet. you pull yourself away to show charles you two shoe choices. a pair of flats that match your dress or a pair of heels that match your jewelry more. "i like the flats," he says and frowns as you go to slip them on. "no, no, let me," he takes the shoes, sitting you at the edge of the bed and kneeling in front of you. he softly kisses the curve of your knee after slipping on the first flat, then does the same after the second.

in the last clip, you're in the hallway of your apartment, fixing your hair in the mirror above your phone. charles walks in, finally ready. his hair is mussed in an attractive fashion, thick black glasses on his face. charles doesn't wear necklaces often, but you got him to wear a simple chain, that pokes out of the undone buttons of his dress shirt. the color of his button up matches your dress subtly, and his dress pants suits the color of his top. "very nice, mr leclerc," you comment, kissing his lips softly as he wraps his arms around your waist. he moves you from side to side slowly, like a soft lullaby. "come on, we have to go," you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before grabbing your phone.]

comments

username WAS NOT EXPECTING CHARLES?

-> username him speaking in french 😩

-> username 'ma chérie' 'jolie fille' BRUH

-> username I WANNA BE HER SO BAD

username why is no talking about y/n caling charles 'cha'

-> username they're so hot they make me want to combust

username can't believe they've been hiding this

-> username that's mom and dad fr

username THE MATCHING OUTFITS!!!!

username currently glitching because charles leclerc is on my fyp kissing the knees of his girlfriend and helping her put on her shoes and jewlery

-> username i screeched i'm being so fr

-> username ACTS OF SERVICE BOYFRIEND 🗣️🗣️

-> yourusername true 😊

-> username Y/N TELL US MORE

-> yourusername 🤫

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 x reader #cl16 fic #cl16 fluff

679 notes · View notes

apute11as · 1 year ago

Text

Chosen family - Barcelona femeni x teen!reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping a secret for too long and the team start to figure it out and how to help you through it!

Warnings⚠️ Abus3, vi0lence, loss of parents, descriptions of injury, angst, hurt comfort, fluff

Author note: hey guys this is an angsty one, don’t read if you get triggered by any of the themes above! Hope everyone is well, I’ll be posting at lot more soon just getting through exam season right now! But yeah enjoy the story, leave any feedback or requests in the comments 🩷

P.s. My DMs are always open for anything, Woso related or if you just want to talk! Always here for anything xx

~~~~~~~~~~

You tried to push down the worry of your current situation as you got ready for training in your room. You were only 16 years old, due to your mother passing a year ago, you lived with your father in Barcelona.

The team knew about all of this of course, Alexia more than anyone had been especially supportive, knowing how it felt having lost her father when she wasn’t much older than you. She’d become somewhat of a sister to you. Her, alba and Eli becoming the female figures you lacked in your life, always offering advice and help whenever you needed it.

They knew your father wasn’t the most loving and that since your mother’s passing he’d become a cruel depiction of his former self. What they didn’t know was quite how deep that cruelty ran. He had turned to drinking when your mother had died, you regularly came home from training to find him passed out from the alcohol. It had started as pitiful, he’d just cry and you’d hug him and the two of you would comfort each other, but recently his sadness had turned to anger.

He’d always had a temper and was never the nicest but your mother’s warm presence always made his outbursts bearable but now that she was gone he had no one to regulate that anger. At first it started with hurtful words, some aimed at you and some not but in recent times, his anger had turned physical.

The first time he hit you, you’d wanted nothing more than to cry into Alexia’s arms and have her tell you everything was going to be ok. You decided against that, using your better judgment that it would cause a complicated mess that you didn’t want to condemn her to. It had happened twice more since, on Monday he’d shoved you backwards into a wardrobe, causing you to cut your head, something you’d brushed off as tripping and falling which the team seemed to buy. Yesterday he’d grabbed you by the wrists and squeezed until bruises formed, before pushing you into the table where you bashed your ribs.

Now as you observed yourself in the mirror, you could see the dark bruises that had already formed across your stomach and ribs, matching ones adorned your wrists. You pulled your hoodie over your head and slung your bag over your shoulder, wincing slightly as it came back round and hit your side.

Ingrid and Mapi would be here to pick you up soon as they’d starting taking you to training as you’d told them your father picked up earlier shifts at work (also known as day drinking). Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door you leaped from your spot in the kitchen and went to open it. You of course, were met with the faces of Mapi and Ingrid who smiled widely at you.

“Hola pequeña!” beamed Mapi

“Hola Mapi” you sighed. What you weren’t expecting was for her to barge through the door.

“Sorry bebita I just need to fill up my water. Someone decided to take a sharp turn whilst I was having a drink.” She explained, gesturing to Ingrid who looked unimpressed at the blonde’s antics.

“Woah what’s all this?” She questioned at the various, empty beer and rum bottles that littered your kitchen.

“Erm my dad had some people over yesterday that’s all” you offered nervously

“Seems like they had quite a party” she said, getting at the sheer quantity of it with a raised eyebrow.

“Haha yeah I don’t know I wasn’t there” you replied

“Wait where were you then?” asked Ingrid, asserting herself into the conversation

“Well… I was at my friend’s house for a bit, then I came home” you offered, unconvincingly.

“Oh ok then, well grown adults really should be clearing up after themselves, we can swing by after and help you if your dad is at work?” Added Mapi

“NO!” You yelled, alarming the pair of them. “Sorry, no thank you he’ll be home later and said he’d sort it but thanks anyways” you said, attempting to save yourself due to the accidental outburst.

“Sure that’s fine…” Mapi replied, sounding unsure

“Ready to go now?” Questioned Ingrid from her new found position in the hallway

“Yep so ready!” You responded

The drive to training was slightly awkward, so you’d ask for some music in an attempt to diffuse the situation (it had little effect).

——

Upon reaching the ground, you hurried out the car and wandered a little ahead, fully aware of the fact that they strolled behind muttering about your odd behaviour. You made it inside with the couple trailing a few paces behind you and were met with the smiling face of Lucy bronze.

“Hey y/n how are you?” She beamed

“Hey Luce I’m good how are you?” You replied, offering her a smile of your own

“Good good, Keira kept pestering me about being late this morning though” she said with a sigh

“You were still in bed when we were leaving in 30 minutes!” Keira insisted with an eye roll.

You chuckled at the couple’s childlike antics as you walked over to your locker and began stripping off your clothing when you heard a sharp intake of breath next to you.

“What?” You questioned the English defender

“What happened to your ribs?” She asked in a hushed voice

“Mierda, I forgot about them. I erm tripped… and fell… into the bed post” you replied, knowing you had to work on your lying.

“It looks quite painful and it’s all around your front and sides, how can you do that from falling?” Asked Lucy, concern lacing her voice

“I just did ok, leave it please!” You demanded with a huff, pulling your jersey over your head.

Lucy didn’t push further, though she did make a mental note to keep an eye on you.

——

When you finally made it outside you were met with the warm Catalonian sun beaming down on your face. You had a mandatory team talk and then Jonatan, as usual asked you to pair up. Without a second thought, alexia gripped your wrists and dragged you to her to partner up. You winced noticeably at the gesture as her firm grip found its self on the new formed bruises from yesterday.

“Estas bien pequeña (are you ok)” she questioned with a concerned expression

“Si Ale estoy bien (I’m ok)” you assured the older girl.

“What’s this on your wrists?” She inquired with a firm tone. “Did I do this?” she was now increasingly concerned.

“No no you didn’t do it it was already there” you replied hurriedly

“What was it from?” She questioned further

“Erm from… the match? I had a tussle with someone she gripped my wrists too hard” you lied

“You’re lying to me bebita I can see it in your eyes” she scolded “but why are you lying I don’t understand” her brow furrowed

“Alexia! Y/N! Stop gossiping and get over here!” Yelled Mapi in a teasing tone, a tone that only she could get away with using towards Alexia due to their close friendship

“ay dios mío Maria we’re coming” replied Alexia and before she could say anything more you’d disappeared, already jogging over to join the group and no doubt, avoid her further questioning.

——

Training ended and you rushed ahead, desperate to get away asap to avoid questioning from the multiple behaviours that had noticed your odd behaviour or the state of your body.

You reached the changing room out of breath (more so from sprinting over there than the actual 2 hour training session you’d just attended). You quickly shoved your stuff into your bag and began to scramble away before your upper arm was grasped.

“Where do you think you’re going” rung the voice of Lucy Bronze

“Home?” You replied as if it were obvious

“I thought Alexia was taking you home?” She questioned

“Oh erm yeah tell her it’s ok I’m gonna take a bus” you offered hoping she’d leave you alone

“Alexia come here” beckoned Lucy, her body shielding you from the exit, as you groaned at the implications of this conversation.

“Que pasa?” Questioned alexia with curiosity

“Y/N says she’s getting the bus home” grasped Lucy

“No she’s coming with me? I’m taking her home” she was confused.

“I think the two of you need to have a chat” suggested the brunette

“Yes I think so too” Alexia responded, her disapproval clear in her voice.

The two of you wandered to her car silently, she kept glancing over at you, almost to check you hadn’t disappeared again. She even opened the car door and watched you get in to ensure your presence.

The drive started in silence yet again, with you picking at the skin on your fingernails, but that was short lived.

“Bebita please answer me truthfully when I ask you this…” Alexia began, her eyes not leaving the road ahead. “What happened to your wrists and ribs? Yes Lucy told me about that before you change the subject again” she finished

“I don’t know what to say Ale” you said, your eyes beginning to gloss over.

“The truth Por favor amor” she insisted, her eyes still not looking at yours.

“My papa, he’s taken up drinking lately, quite heavily and it’s changed him” you started

Alexia knew where this was going but she let you finish, unsure of what to say even when you did.

“He-he gets angry now all the time. He used to be an angry person anyways but Mama always used to calm him down and now she’s gone I just-“ you choked back on tears.

Alexia had pulled the car over and took your hand it hers, squeezing gently as if willing you to continue.

“He would shout at me, come home drunk and just scream” you continued. “It wasn’t physical for a while it was just words, b-but recently…” you trailed off once more, finally meeting Alexia’s eyes that were glossed over and full of sadness. “Recently he started to do other things. He hit me and threw me into things, like in something to take his anger out on” Alexia’s grip lay firmer on your hand as she let you finish. “It’s like he’s a different person lo siento” you spluttered as the tears streamed down your face

“Bebita you have nothing! And I mean nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry that we didn’t notice sooner” she replied with a maternal warmth in voice.

“It’s ok Ale I was trying to hide it” you added, calming down a little.

“But why pequeña? We could’ve helped you” tears were threatening to fall from her eyes now.

“But all that would happen is I’d end up in care or on my own and I can’t do that Ale, anyone is better than no one at all” you urged.

“You would have had me! You do have me!” She corrected.

“I know Alexia and I love you so much for that but I couldn’t live with you, interrupt your life, how would you girlfriend feel?” You questioned the blonde.

“She would understand bebita you know that really” insisted Alexia.

“What am I going to do” you cried

“Is he home?” She asked

“Who?” You rebounded

“Your papa” Alexia winced at the name that in her opinion, that man was no longer worthy of.

“No he’ll be at the bar for at least a few more hours”

“Bueno, we’re going to go back to your apartment and gather some stuff and then we’re going to drive to my Mami’s okay?”

“Okay” you weren’t overly convinced yet you still went along with the older girl’s plan, praying your father hadn’t decided to make an early departure from the bar.

——

Upon reaching your apartment block, you gave Alexia your keys as she insisted she would go first, keeping a protective arm on your body behind hers. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised your father was still out.

Alexia’s eyes scanned the floor, taking in the broken glass and general mess everywhere, the two of you tread carefully over to your room. The first thing Alexia noticed upon entering was the sheer contrast of your bedroom, to the rest of the house. It was near spotless, with most of your belongings having seemingly vanished.

“I put most of it under my bed or in the wardrobe” you proclaimed, as if you’d just read her mind. “I didn’t want to give him any extra ammo” you half joked, but Alexia didn’t laugh, instead she pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that said more than words ever could.

You pulled away eventually, realising that you were going to have to start doing some packing as every minute that ticked by was time closer to your father coming home. You started by gathering up your football gear, as it was likely your most important possessions, asides from your memory box that you’d made up when your mother had passed. Standing there for a second, you ran your hands over the cold metal of the lid, reminiscing on a time when your family was “perfect” and things were much happier.

Alexia on the other side of your room, was gathering up some clothes for you. On another day, you’d cringe at the fact that your captain was rummaging through your underwear drawer, but today was not that day.

“Almost done bebé?” questioned the midfielder

“So just gathering some last bits” you assured her, before piling a couple of textbooks, your water bottle and your laptop into your bag.

Just as the two of you made your way out of the bedroom, your mind clicked.

“Wait!” you urged

Alexia turned around at rapid speed, a mix of confusion and concern overtaking her. But before she could question you, you reappeared at the door holding a stuffed bear.

“Sorry it’s childish, it’s just something my Abuela gave me when I was younger”

“No no not childish at all, it’s sweet actually” she smiled. “Don’t tell anyone but I’ve still got my childhood teddy bear at the back of my wardrobe” she admitted

“Really?”

“Sí, now vamos cariño” she insisted

——

You loaded your stuff into Alexia’s cupra before walking around to open the passenger seat door, Alexia following suit.

“I’ve text Mami telling her what’s happened and she said you’re more than welcome to stay at hers” offered the captain “if you’d rather stay with me that’s perfectly fine, I have a spare room, you’ll have to share with the Nala though” she chuckled.

“Thank you Alexia, I’m honestly happy either way I’m just so grateful you’ve been so kind” you replied genuinely.

“Don’t thank me chica te amo mucho ok? If you ever need anything or anyone I’m here, remember that.”

“Gracias Ale”

——

The journey to Eli’s was short and once you’d arrived, Alexia made quick work of unloading your minimal bags and carrying them all herself, despite your protests.

She did however hand one to you when the two of you reached the door, just so that she had a spare hand to knock with, which she did.

The door opened and you were surprisingly greeted with the face of Alba, Alexia’s younger sister.

“Hola chica, it’s been a while” she hugged you, albeit lighter than normal (the first indicator that her mother had told her everything).

“I saw you last week Albs” you smiled

“Oh yes… well it’s been a while anyways” she laughed awkwardly

“Hola mija” came Eli’s voice from behind

“Hola Mrs putellas, thank you so much for offering me a room” you smiled and hugged her back.

“I’ve told you call me Eli, and it’s no problem at all. I hope you don’t mind but Alexia told us what happened, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you’re basically my daughter already”

She wasn’t wrong, even before your father’s drinking problem, you were here at least once a week for dinner (Alexia and Alba insisting you were their mother’s favourite child, to which she didn’t disagree with).

“Gracias Eli” you smiled at her

——

The four of you sat and ate dinner and discussed what was to happen, ultimately deciding you’d stay with Alexia for a little while as her apartment was closer to the training grounds and it would be easier for her to take you with her everyday. Then it was decided that Eli would file for your adoption, something you knew your father would agree to as just he wasn’t himself anymore. You’d set him up in rehabilitation for his alcoholism and see to it that he gets better.

Despite Alexia’s disapproval, you’d decided not to file a statement and testify against your father, stating that it would cause unnecessary issues and that you’d be far away from him anyways. Eventually, all was agreed and you and Alexia returned home to inform Olga of the plans, which to your slight surprise, she was completely okay with.

Alexia decided that the two of you wouldn’t attend training this week, you had no match anyways due to it being Christmas break so the two of you spent some time together. This helped not only you, but her more than you’d ever know. Ultimately, you decided that you’d tell the team what happened after the break, deciding now to enjoy the holidays with your knew found family.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #I need Christmas asap

826 notes · View notes

vampirefest · 4 months ago

Text

Hello, dearest companions in the darkness! Have you missed us, because we've been longing and yearning for you these past long months!

Kinktober ♥︎ is right around the corner and for our second edition of the event, we've compiled some sexy vampire-themed prompts just for you. Check out the list of prompts, and the rules and guidelines below.

We can't wait to see you in October ♥︎

Prompts

WEEK 1: PASSION

♡ Day 1: Coffin

♡ Day 2: Mutual Masturbation

♡ Day 3: Clothed Sex

♡ Day 4: Telepathic / Phone

♡ Day 5: Threesome

♡ Day 6: Shower / Bath

WEEK 2: OBSESSION

♡ Day 7: Dirty Talk

♡ Day 8: Hate sex

♡ Day 9: Outdoors / Public

♡ Day 10: Stalking

♡ Day 11: Biting / Marking

♡ Day 12: Touch Starved

♡ Day 13: Edging

WEEK 3: DEVOTION

♡ Day 14: Body Worship

♡ Day 15: Master / Slave

♡ Day 16: Bondage / Restraints

♡ Day 17: Soft And Sweet

♡ Day 18: Aftercare

♡ Day 19: Toys

♡ Day 20: Praise Kink

WEEK 4: FASCINATION

♡ Day 21: Oral Fixation

♡ Day 22: Feeding Kink

♡ Day 23: Mirror Sex

♡ Day 24: Voyeurism

♡ Day 25: Fingers

♡ Day 26: Nipple Play

♡ Day 27: Interspecies / Monsterfucking

WEEK 5: EXPRESSION

♡ Day 28: Lingerie / Striptease

♡ Day 29: Mask / Incognito

♡ Day 30: Leather

♡ Day 31: Costume / Roleplay

Rules and guidelines

This event is 18+ only since it's focused on NSFW content. Not all fills need to be NSFW, but as the perverts that we are, we highly encourage you to get freaky with it.

All adaptations and versions of the characters are welcome; books, comics, the 1994 film, or the AMC TV show. You can specify which in your post if you think it's relevant.

There are 31 prompts, one for each day, but feel free to use multiple prompts per creation or mix and match as you like.

All fan creations are welcome; fanfiction, fanart, fanvids, edits, podfics, whatever you feel inspired to create.

We are firm believers of “don't like don't read”, so be sure to curate your experience if there are any prompts you don't vibe with.

This is a low-pressure event—whether you fill one day or all of them, the aim is to have fun and be creative.

Cross-posting with other events is welcome, just be sure to satisfy the requirements for this event.

You can share your work on any platform you like. If you make a post here on Tumblr or Twitter, tag us and we'll reblog it.

Reblogs are spread throughout the day, so don’t worry if yours isn’t up immediately. But if you think we missed it you can DM us.

In your post please include the following:

Tag with #vfkinktober2024 and/or tag this blog @ vampirefest

Which Day/Prompt you have filled

Any relevant ratings to indicate if the fill is NSFW *Tumblr automatically suppresses any posts with explicit tags so we advise our creators not to tag NSFW if the post itself is not explicit but only links to the explicit version on another site (AO3, Twitter etc.)

Any relevant sensitive tags or trigger warnings—we want to take care of our little community, so please tag appropriately.

You can also add the characters or ship names.

Example of how reblogs will be tagged:

#vfkinktober2024 #day #[prompt being filled] #[type of content; fanart, fanfic etc.] #[trigger warnings that we get from your post] tw #[ship name or pairing]

AO3 Collection

The Vampire Fest AO3 collection will open on October 1st. You can find it here.

We’ll also keep the collection open after October 30th for any late submissions.

How to add your works to the AO3 collection:

Go to [Edit Work] on AO3 and type VFkinktober2024 in the [Post to Collections / Challenges] box that is located below [Summary] and [Notes] and it should pop up in the suggestions.

You can also go to the collection main page and hit the [post to collection] button.

302 notes · View notes

suckerforblondeathletes · 7 months ago

Text

Comfort Calls - Ingrid Engen

Ingrid Engen X Fem!Reader

Summary: Comforting Ingrid after the... rather unpleasant... game when she was in Norway

Warnings: Had to use that picture of Ingrid lol, Sad Ingrid and reader, use of Norwegian, translations into English listed! If the translation is wrong don't blame me, blame translate on google.

Authors Note: Find of short but hope you enjoy!

You felt your heart shatter when the game whistle blew, Norway had lost a very important game, a devastating loss was felt all over Norway, and the team.

Your thoughts immediately get to your girlfriend, the beautiful, kind Norwegian who you gave your heart too on December 16, 2022.

You knew she would be upset, everyone would.

Your questions were answered when the tv cut to a clip of all of the Norwegians crying on the pitch, your brunette girlfriend being one of them.

You felt tears prickle your eyes just watching her cry, hours away, you couldn't do any thing from Barcelona but watch her cry.

Unable to wrap your arms around her until she feels better.

After the match, and about 2 hours after, you decided to call her. Knowing you gave her enough time to calm down and go back to the hotel.

The phone rang for 3 second before being picked up. You could hear sniffles in the background, signaling she had been crying in her hotel room.

"Hey baby, are you okay?" Your voice calm and comforting, knowing that she is in a vulnerable state and very upset.

"Yeah, just disappointed." Your heart breaks again hearing the sadness and quietness in her voice, you aren't not used to hearing your happy and bubbly girlfriend so upset.

"I wish I could be there with you right now, babe." The words getting stuck in your throat, and your throat starting to burn by holding back tears.

"I wish you could be here too kjærlighet, very badly." (Love) She breaks out into tears mid sentence, making you start to cry as well.

"Its okay baby, you can cry as much as you want to." You never wanted to jump through the phone and kiss and hug someone so badly as you did right now.

You both sat there for a couple minutes as she calmed down and she spoke again.

"I tried really hard, I didn't want to disappoint you." She says the last sentence quieter, almost hard to hear but you caught it.

"Love you didn't disappoint me at all. You never could do anything to disappoint me. Never, do you understand?" Seriousness is heard in your voice, the voice you rarely use with her but you wanted her to know you were serious.

"Yes, jeg elsker deg så mye" (I love you so much) You could hear a smile in her voice, she always smiled when she said she loved you. She didn't know why she did, but she couldn't hold back a smile when she would say the words.

She also almost never said it in English. not that she couldn't, she just wanted you to know she seriously meant it when she used her mother tongue."

"I love you too baby, get some rest my love and I will see you soon."

"Okay, goodnight kjærlighet, you get some sleep too," (Love) You hear another smile in her words and smile to yourself at the sound.

"Yes of course, goodnight babe." You make a kiss sound into the phone and she mirrors it before hanging up.

When the call ends you smile before putting the phone away, you always knew after hard away games, all she needed was a comfort call from her girlfriend, and she would be just fine.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#ingrid engen x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

302 notes · View notes

uchihaxitachi · 7 months ago

Text

— itachi’s birthday month —

a/n: it’s my pretty weasel’s birthday 🎁 and i want to dedicate the whole month of june to him ♥️

masterlist:

day 1: holding hands together for the first time

day 2: comforting you after a mental break down

day 3: itachi cooking your favorite food

day 4: itachi brings you a pet

day 5: highschool bully itachi hcs

day 6: itachi moodboard (yakuza-core)

day 7: itachi moodboard (emperor-core)

day 8: itachi moodboard (warlock-core)

day 9: self indulgent birthday fic

day 10: itachi opening up to you

day 11: he gets you a matching necklace

day 12: ceo itachi x employee reader hcs

day 13: getting married to itachi -> proposal

day 14: having your first born with itachi

day 15: how he treats your friends and family

day 16: yandere itachi -> kidnapping

day 17: yandere itachi -> punishments

day 18: yandere itachi -> gifts

day 19: yandere itachi -> how he shows his love

day 20: going on a trip with itachi

nsfw prompts:

day 21: edging

day 22: breeding kink

day 23: wax-play

day 24: mirror sex

day 25: rough-play

day 26: cnc

day 27: overstimulation

day 28: impact play

day 29: bondage

day 30: tsukuyomi play

#itachi uchiha #naruto #naruto shippuden #itachi #itachi imagines #itachi x reader #uchiha x reader #itachi fluff #uchiha fluff #itachi smut #itachi thirst #uchiha smut #uchiha thirst #itachi x you #uchiha x you #uchiha x reader smut #itachi x reader smut

240 notes · View notes

girlkisser13 · 6 months ago

Text

aphrodite cabin headcanons

a/n: i know that the cabins are in order based on where each olympian sits on the olympian council but i find it funny that aphrodite is #10. get it? because she's a 10. i'll stop. 😔

children of aphrodite

• they're the most diverse cabin at camp.

• they're kind of like a cult.

• mean girls quotes. all day. everyday.

• they have loads of spare clothes that they lend out to new campers that arrive with nothing.

• they actually wear the least amount of makeup out of all the campers because they have the gift of natural beauty.

• they help kids work out their sexualities and make sure they're confident and okay with them.

• they are physically incapable of misgendering people.

• trans aphrodite kids can change their appearance at will.

• they know the basics of every romance language.

• they do couples counseling.

• camp matchmakers.

• they're the camp hairdressers and they also run a secret piercing parlor.

• sucker for romance movies.

• they have the most creative ways of swearing ("you impractical second hand prada bag").

• aphrodite gives them charmed bags that can hold ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING.

• they're particularly fond of sweet foods. like they need a little sweet treat after every meal.

• they keep a running list of the best make out and date spots at camp.

• they're always that person that has a tampon or pad if you need one.

• they're the type of people that will chop off their hair if it doesn't match their outfit.

• the cabin hosts regular beauty and self-care nights, where campers can relax and pamper themselves with facials, manicures, and other treatments.

• they are huge advocates of self love and self care. they do everything in their power to teach every single camper to love themselves.

• they are the most lgbtqia+ supportive cabin, as they are also very diverse in the terms of sexuality: imagine a ton of pansexuals, demisexuals, bisexuals, flirty gays/lesbians, a few aro/ace chilling in the background- everyone is represented.

cabin exterior

• instead of being a life size barbie dreamhouse like it's described in the books, its very subtle, and natural, and soft.

• the outside is pink, but such a pale pink that it looks white unless the right light is hitting it.

• there is natural ivy growing on each wall and onto the roof. It wraps around shutters and the frames of the doors.

• it almost looks like a small manor and like it should have been built on some far off hill that is surrounded by flower fields for miles.

cabin interior

• the inside is very warm and welcoming.

• there are so many pictures, posters, mirrors, and shelves that you can barely see the paint.

• lowkey feels like you're walking into a bath & body works.

• their cabin is filled with scented candles.

• pop music constantly plays in the background and everything in there is expensive as hell.

• their beds are tailored to each camper's exact taste. so it's a bizarre mix of furniture from a fluffy bed with 16 pillows to a bed that looks like it belongs in a prison.

• aphrodite charmed it so that it is bigger on the inside.

• there is a walk-in, expanding, closet where you put old clothes you don't want anymore and other siblings can come and get some new clothes if they need them (other campers are welcome whenever invited. it happens more often than it should).

cabin traditions

• at the beginning of every summer, everyone (if they feel comfortable) gets in front of the rest of the cabin and gives names, pronouns, and sexuality.

• there is an item from every sibling that has lived in the cabin somewhere on the walls. all of the pictures, posters, things on the shelves are placed there by a past sibling.

• there's a hook where, if your jewelry breaks in the cabin, you tie it off and hang it there. there is a necklace made of leather with a hundred year old stone heart on the hook.

divider by @chilumitos

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo fandom #pjo series #hoo series #pjo tv show #pjo disney+#pjo cabins #aphrodite #venus #aphrodite cabin #cabin ten #cabin 10 #children of aphrodite

259 notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 6 months ago

Text

kinktober 2024 prompt list

🍑I've tried to put a mixture of prompts here so there's something for everyone, that being said Kinktober is meant to be fun mix and match, use more than one, miss days out, do whatever brings you joy! <3

🍆I'd love to be tagged if you use this list and check out your art, but absolutely no pressure if you don't want to <3

🍑Totally can be used for any art medium (fic/art/moodboards etc.) and can be fandom or non fandom related <3 The only thing I ask for is for you to be 18+, no kink shaming, and to have fun!

🍆 For an extra challenge, (which is what I'll be hopefully doing) use a random generator to choose which prompt you'll be using and/or what characters/subject matter/etc you'll do it for if you have multiple.

1 overstimulation/edging / vibrator

2 edgeplay/ love bites/ teratophilia

3 drinking game/ breath play/ fisting

4 collars/ first time/ anal

5 biting/ wax play/ nipple play

6 prostitution/sex work/ mirror sex

7 thigh riding/ secret relationship/ leather

8 hand jobs/ fingering/ rimming

9 aphrodisiacs/ sex pollen/ face fucking

10 toys/ forbidden/ sissoring

11 threesome/ swimming/ pegging

12 floor sex/ kneeling/ tentacles

13 shower/ latex/ licking

14 begging/ sex swing/ crying

15 slow & soft/ roleplay/ surrender

16 public/ exhibitionism/ vouyeurism

17 frottage/ oral sex/ praise kink

18 psychic bonds/ latex/ sthenolagnia

19 masturbation/ ball gag/ fuck or die

20 filming/ whipping/ abo

21 bondage/ lactation/ immobilised

22 smoking/ shotgunning/ degradation

23 can’t get to sleep/ blindfold/ sounding

24 on the counter/ on the table/ on the desk

25 somnophilia/ sleepy sex/ corset

26 marking/ branding/ lactation

27 body worship/ master and slave/ reward

28 face sitting/ forniphilia/ harness

29 hair pulling/ butt plug/ 69

30 afternoon delight/ spit-roasting/ shibari

31 FREE SPACE <3

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #prompt list

148 notes · View notes

awill2live · 7 months ago

Text

I’ll miss you ★ Onya

y/n getting some cya soon DIYUUK!

short fic + nsfw

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

your feet padded quickly across the soft carpet floor of your bedroom, plopping on your bed as you eagerly tore open the package. Inside, nestled amongst layers of crisp tissue paper, folded in a plastic bag lay your new gray dress, simple but cute. the fabric felt cool and soft against your fingertips as you held it up, admiring the stretch and softness.

It was perfect for the upcoming beach weekend you and your friends had planned for a while. you were already picturing how to style it: with your favorite sandals, a bag, and sunglasses. sliding off the bed to try it on you pull off your tank top and shorts. slipping the dress over your head, letting the fabric glide over your body.

as the dress fell into place, it hugged your curves just right. you stood in front of the mirror, taking off your bonnet you run your fingers through your hair, posing slightly.

It was the perfect match for the dress. you snap a pic of yourself, sending it to your group chat. your phone chimed fast sasha and mikasa replying. you swipe up to read it, texting back before sitting your phone back on the dresser.

you continue checking out the dress in the mirror, now wondering if you should post while your out. mid thought you hear ony coming in from the front door. what time is it? you tap reach to tap your phone leaning against the dresser 2:16? was he done with his drops already?

you were kinda glad he came home early, able to show off your new dress to him right away. you shimmed your hips pinching the dress to stretch out leftover wrinkles, running your hands down your waist smoothing out any bumps as you heard the door open.

“baby?” ony called, the front door swinging shut behind him, shoes padding down the hallway and the bedroom door creaked open.

“hey ma” ony said with a smile, his eyes immediately drawn to your reflection. “It finally came in?”

“mhm” you hummed, still checking yourself out in the mirror. your eyes followed as you watched a pair of hands appear in the mirror, sliding around your waist from behind. ony stepped closer, his nose nuzzling into your neck, breathing in the body butter you had applied earlier.

“you look good, y/n” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration.

you leaned back into ony’s embrace, a sly smile playing on your lips feeling his body press against you. you knew exactly what was happening and was all for it. turning around, eyes meeting his own.

“thank you, baby.” you cooed, hands sliding over ony’s arms and up to his shoulders.

“you wanna help me take it off?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

“hngh—shittuuuh”

you let out a sob dropping your head on your pillows. ony grips your waist tight and holds you in place, setting a fast, ony speaks to you, but you can't make out words, too gone on the dick that's filling you up. you moan at the pressure of it, at the feel of heavy balls slapping against your pussy.

biting your lip you hear ony’s low curses, a shiver running down your spine as he wraps a hand around your neck, trapping you beneath him. the bed creaking softly as he put his weight onto you.

"m’gonna miss you," ony groaned, feeling the knot in his stomach, he loved fucking you like this. he loved smacking your ass and watching your juices flow right down his dick and mess up his pelvis, the way your eyes would roll back in your head and your plump lips would part ever so slightly.

“you gonna miss me ma?” ony asks, kissing down your neck. you nod, moaning out a "y-yesss" as he continues slamming into you. feeling every inch of him as he hits your sweet spot over and over again.

your body is on fire, clit sensitive, muscles tense and nerves sparking with pleasure. you arch your back, pressing your ass up to meet his hips, wanting more, deeper, harder.

“good” ony moaned pulling your head back, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss.

“so close..ony” that was your last warning before cumming, juices rushing down your thighs, that was your last warning before cumming.

"nut on your dick, ma" ony groaned deeply in your ear, the hand on your throat giving one last squeeze before he came, he stays in you feeding your pussy with every drop of cum he’s got.

"you gonna have a good time?” he asks pulling out , already knowing the answer.

“mhm” you nod looking back at him, swaying your hips back and forth, gliding your fingers over your still throbbing folds. you let out a soft moan at the sensation, wanting more of him. ony watches you, his eyes dark and hungry again. you slap at your cunt cum coated fingers move up and down, spreading the puffy folds.

"wanna go again?" you say softly, a giddy smile plastered on your face.

#onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony smut #onyankapon #aot x black reader #aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #camworks!

384 notes · View notes

soulaires · 1 year ago

Note

aaron warner family headcanons

The Warner Family.

pairings: dad!aaron warner x mom!reader

summary: get to know more about the warner family!

warnings: fluff, domestic, ooc, domestic shenanigans, protective aaron warner …

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

Aaron found out about it when he heard some crying in the bathroom at the middle of the night, noticing your lack of presence beside him, he got worried and walk towards the bathroom.

There, he saw you, in front of a mirror having a breakdown.

He approached you and asked whats wrong.

“love?” he said softly, as he hugged you from behind and caressed your hair, “My love, whats wrong?” he asked you worriedly.

“aaron..” you trailed off as you continue to sob. He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead , pulling away as he make you look at him, “what is it, angel? You can tell me.” he urged you.

“I’m pregnant.” you blurt out.

With the lack of reply, you panicked.

“I missed my period recently and I feel kinda shit lately so me juliette and nazeera bought an pregnancy test earlier and I tested all 7 of them and they are all positive, I don’t—”

As you were rambling, he quickly hugged you tightly and lifting you up to the ground as he span you around. You laugh softly at this gesture as he peppered kisses to your face and hair while he whispered sweet nothings.

“Its okay. We will be okay. Don’t worry. We got this, yeah? I love you. Thank you. Thank you, I love you so much, My love.”

at the first stage he got nervous about being a dad and have some self doubt but later got over it as he saw you patying your belly despite it still not visible.

he got more protective over you and never ever let you do things.

you guys told your friends by a guess the word game. They all cried.

He bought a book about being a dad and take notes on pregnancy books to help you out.

Baby proofs the every part of the house immediately.

He went to every appointment with you

He never ever made you feel guilty for your cravings.

Oh you want a food from a store hours away? Just wait.

A hellspawn food combination that you want? He will eat it with you.

Massage? Done.

A food from a different country? He ordered his men to get it ASAP.

Want some sweets especially made by your husband even though you have never tasted his baking? He learned how to bake immediately!

You guys did an gender reveal in the most fun way.

You did it as both kenji and juliette worn a baby costume with 'boy' written in the blue bib for juliette while 'girl' in a pink bib for kenji

They both FIGHT to determine who wins to know the gender

They even go overboard as they jumped into the swimming pool racing each other to the finish line

Kenji won.

So, its a girl!

You guys decorated her room immediately

You did ALOOOTTTT of shopping!!!!!

Your husband just spoils you rotten as you keep buying cute toys, plushies, and pretty cute clothes!!!

“my love, don't you think its a bit too much?” “I am sure the little princess do not need that much clothes, honey.”

he gave up as soon as he saw some cute baby clothes + a matching one.

When you guys did a baby shower its so emotional like omg you guys are gonna be parents!

You and Aaron planted a tree so it grows with baby dior!

teenager!dior safe place is the tree, she goes there to lay down, read and to relax when stresses!

Your friends wrote letters for dior to read when she reached the age 7, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21 and 22!

You and aaron made her a gmail account as you guys constantly wrote her some letters and random things there for her to read in the future

When you went into the labor he desperately wished to take away your pain and was crying with you. He comforted you as he cares your hair and gives you kisses.

“shh, its okay, baby. Im here. Im not going anywhere. ”

“you got this, my love. You are doing so well.”

“Aaron! I can't do this—”

“yes, yes you can, darling.”

He really can't bare to see you in so much pain even though he had seen so much worse

He was very gentle and was crying when he held your baby girl in his hands. His princess, his girls, his universe.

After the labour, you were barely allowed to do things in the house, he only let you rest while he take cares with everything.

You guys had an 3 months lockdown, not allowing anyone to visit the baby

Always keeping an eye for baby monitors

You and him do an rock, paper scissors when it comes to changing baby Dior diapers (he lets you win, sometimes.)

Dior have your eyes so he is a victim to those puppy dog eyes. He can't say no to you, what more to his princess especially with your eyes?

Learns to do her hair!!

Dior first words is not 'momma' or 'dada' it was Kenny. Kenny. You and aaron felt betrayed.

Despite with the nickname, kenji teared up and always paraded the moment (to your husband dismay) he grows to adore the nickname when she keep calling him that

He sometimes forget that he played dress up with baby di so sometimes he go to work with tiara, ribbons, those princess accessories on him.

“Refrain from laughing, there is nothing funny about this matter.” “uh...theres something on you, sir.” “oh.”

Sometimes they were to scared to point it out

Kenji, nazeera and juliette made fun of him not until they were a victim of the dress up

At one point, kenji kidnapped baby dior and was later banned from seeing her for 2 months (barely a month in dior throwed a tantrum wanting to see her uncle kenny)

Baby dior played with your make up when she misses you! She wanna look like you because she misses you so much

Dior is an nature girlie! Aaron believes his angel is a reincarnated of persephone/artemis

Baby dior wears her pants backwards. She believes that “tails” should be at the back. You and Aaron gave up on the fight.

You guys had an motto that if its not hurting anyone or themselves, don't fight it. Let them.

One time you guys thought she was playing phone call but turns out she was in an hour real call with james.

Seashells hunting !!!!!

Everytime you guys went to a beach aaron always buy a big beautiful seashell then hides it in the sand for her to find!!! And her reactions always makes you and him melt!!

he also buries some treasure chests

He made an contract of no boyfriend until shes 30 and made baby dior sign with her prints with paints. He framed it.

You scold him for that and he just shrugs lol

teenage!dior have you in her closefriend and private insta!!

she collects shells and glue them to a cardboard and gifts it to you!

She wants a sibling so one day she just go “I want a baby sister or brother 🥺”

Keeps wishing on a well for it

Aaron is 100% in he just goes “Princess, ask mommy :)” “me too, baby. Let’s just ask momma for it, hm?”

Well, let’s just say she always get what she wants…

authors note: I had fun doing this Omg I wanna make it a series, do you guys want it? Please let me know!!! Feedbacks and reactions are very much appreciated!!!

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

If you want to be added to my A.W tag list plz let me know in my inbox ! 💌

#reader insert #shatter me series #shatter me #aaron warner x reader #aaron warner #aaron warner x you #rie answers 🦦#riewrites 🫀#aaron warner anderson #aaron warner imagines #girl dad aaron warner #aaron warner x y/n #shatter me x reader #aaron warner imagine #fem!reader #The Warner Family 🪐

458 notes · View notes

dronebiscuitbat · 2 months ago

Text

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 100)

The sound of light snoring filled a 16 year old boys bedroom in the wee hours of the dusk, the wall adorned with guitars on racks and band posters displaying men with long hair.

His blankets were a charcoal black, his sheets a dark grey. On his desk lie a machine glowing with RGB, and whirring softly, and his seating options consisted of haphazardly arranged bean bags.

“Nico! ¡Levántate! ¡tienes tu turno en la puerta del búnker hoy!” Came harshly from the living room, and a drone with a mop of black hair grumbled, emerging from his nest of blankets like a member of the undead.

His purple eyeslights flickered on just to display his groggniess- another night of fitful sleep.

“Comin abuela!” He calls out in return, throwing the blankets off him and stumbling into the bathroom where he brushed his shoulder length hair and cleaned his teeth.

The only thing he was wearing was a pair of long black shorts, his hair was a mess, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he looked like a disheveled shelter dog.

“Ugh. Fuck me…”

He sighed as he gathered up clothes to wear for his shift guarding the front door, with everything going on, older students had the choice to volunteer to help with different projects instead.

And he'd take security work over a stuffy classroom any day.

He slid on a grey shirt and green cargo pants before fumbling around in his room to find his brown aviator jacket and matching goggles, then dug in his nightstand to find his service weapon- a 9mm pistol that would do nothing against a threat that wasn't a normal drone.

He strapped it to his hip and opened the the door to the living room where his grandmother was watching some kind of reality TV show, her legs covered in a knitted blanket.

“Morning.” He gave a half grin to her slightly yellowed frame, she smiled back, faded blue eyelights blinking at him.

“Buenos días mijo. Casi pensé que no te levantarías” She hummed, gently taking his hand as she couldn't quite see him even in his close proximity.

“Nada…No me iría de casa indefenso.” He replied before sighing. “Por favor, usa tus gafas abuela…”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Not like it will help anyway.” She switched to english, probably not even realizing she'd switched at all. “You be safe mijo! Don't be a idiota!”

He chuckled softly. “Done enough of being stupid… no worries. See you when I get back.”

He shut the door behind him, stopping to stand just in front of his door to watch several people walk by- a deadpan expression seeping onto his face.

“Let's get this over with…”

He traipsed down the hall towards the bunker doors. Getting shoulder checked and ignored all the way through; he was decently tall for a worker drone but that didn't stop people from not caring enough to get out of his way.

It was kind of his luck. Hell, his whole families luck it seemed. He should've been named Murphy, because every single bad thing that could happen; did.

His father was murdered outside the bunker before he was even born, and his mother only took care of him for the first four years of his life before dumping him on her mother and bailing. He couldn't parse her out from the crowd even if she was still around.

So it was just him and his dear Abuela, and it had been for most of his life, which he was fine with, she was a lovely woman and had raised him well. Though recently her opticals had begun to fail…

Just another thing added to the list of mundane and shitty aspects of his life.

Why couldn't his problems be more fantastical? At least then he could be miserable and interesting instead of miserable and bored to fucking death.

He reached the front of the bunker on complete autopilot, settling into his post next to the open door, snow blistering around him while he leaned against the frozen concrete.

Despite how lonely it often got, he did find himself enjoying his time out here, one earbud in his audials while he watched the ship that would take them all away from here be built.

He'd actually begun as a welder, and was pretty good at it too- the only problem being that he was too impatient for it, he would get into a flow and then burn his hands because he wasn't paying attention… so now he was put on simple security.

“Hey Nico. Just get here?” His watch partner and now, one of his close friends patting his shoulder as she walked by with a piping hot cup of gasoline for the both of them.

“Hey Nellie. Yeah. Kinda slept in…” He replied, looking into the girls green eyelights and near silvery hair that hung down to the small of her back.

“Boss should be back from the expedition today with the ‘cords. All that's left after that is preparing that monstrosity to go.” She pointed to the ship, now being coated in heat shielding for its cone and underbelly.

“You think it'll actually work? Some of that shits starting to get in our pipes now… it's gonna get impossible to clean out soon.”

She shrugged. “If it don't, I say let's have one last hurrah until we all munched, if the planets gonna take everything; let's not let it take our joy too…”

“And if it does?”

She laughed. “Then I'll kiss you. How about that?”

He blushed at that, looking away sheepishly. “I think I'd take you up on that.”

The air cracked with supersonic pressure, alerting both drones to a yellow blur quickly decending, preparing to land just in front of them and they both braced themselves, snow getting flung everywhere as something big and mechanical landed with a loud thud.

After everything settled, what remined standing before them was tall, formidable, and had a long tail with a stinger. A Murder Drone…

Carrying a small, feisty, visibly pregnant little worker, and both were smiling like idiots.

“You said slow.”

“That was slow!”

“You broke the sound barrier!”

Nico felt his features soften. Good, they were both back in one piece, and it seems to have went well If their playful bickering was anything to go by.

…

There was one more reason he really enjoyed being out here, instead of in there.

“Mama! Papa!” Little Tera was calling from the arms of a drone with blonde hair and white eyelights, reaching out for her parents as N nearly ran to take her out of the workers arms.

“Oh hello my baby bat! Papi missed you yes he did!” He spun her, making a cascade of happy giggles escape her mouth.

Nico smiled at the sight, feeling his heart swell before a pang of deep regret hit him like a truck.

It wasn't supposed to be this way…

That night with Chloe was supposed to be fun, no consequence. She'd told him she was sixteen too, acted like she'd never done anything before right up until she absolutely blew his mind- but he'd chalked it up to it being his first time.

Then; nothing. Radio silence, he didn't see her in his classes, didn't see her in the halls or any other party he'd went to, like she'd been a ghost.

Until she called him five months later to meet her at the nursery.

He thought the meeting place was odd, but at the time didn't seem to care, he was just excited to see her again, being unable to wipe the night from his memory- he'd wanted something more substantial ever since then…

What he arrived to, was her holding a pillbaby put with one hand- which she dropped unceremoniously into his arms before just walking away without explaining a damn thing.

He didn't need one though. He knew the moment the babies eyes opened and he was staring into his own eyelights, when her mouth opened to let out a coo and she weakly rolled into into him.

He held her close, alone aside from Mrs.Rayn in the nursery, having to sit down because his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

At first… he just admired her, she was mostly inert now having been just transferred and having no life experience other then him in that moment. But she was perfect in every way.

Then he… thought about how he'd have to adjust, he'd have to drop out of school, move out- but… he couldn't move out, abuela couldn't see very well and without him she could hurt herself…

Okay… so he couldn't move out, that's fine. So it was drop out, keep taking care of his grandmother and the new addition, and get a job so he could make sure she'd have toys and extra bottles and all the oil she needed.

But… taking care of the both of them would be a full time job- he couldn't be out all day and expect his grandmother to help raise yet another baby.

He started to tremble when he made that revelation. How absolutely upset his grandmother was going to be at him, how utterly impossible it would be to try and juggle everything this little baby would need at the age of 16.

And he started to cry uncontrollably, hugging her tightly as his heart unraveled out onto the floor. Ugly sobs wracking through his body as he went through the last… and most viable option. To leave her here.

Yet he still stayed for another hour, basking in his daughter's presence, memorizing it to the best of his ability.

He'd given her a name- even knowing it would never be used.

Mariposa, his little butterfly.

And then, he went to the front desk, legs feeling like lead and with shaky breaths, and handed her to Mrs. Rayn.

She didn't even have time to ask a question before he was gone, not being able to bear being there a second longer without breaking down into more tears.

When he got back to his room, he collapsed in a heap of despair. Sitting on the edge of his bed just staring into space, the weight of what he'd done threatening to crush him.

After an hour of that. He called Chloe, she didn't pick up but he didn't exactly need her to. He just needed to fucking scream.

So he did.

He left a thirty minute long expletive filled rant as a message before throwing his phone in fit of absolute rage and then collapsing as tears ran down the inside of his visor again.

He had a daughter, a pillbaby with his code and the circumstances of her birth and his life had made it impossible for him to be there for her in the way he wanted to be.

He knew, realistically, this was the best choice for both of them, he wouldn't have to uproot everything and she would have a much higher quality of life, she'd have two parents who'd love her instead of just him, a 16 year old boy who barely knew how to take care of himself.

The next morning, and the day after that, and the day after that he went to visit her secretly, giving her tickles or admiring her before he went to school. His heart hurting knowing that there was going to be a day soon where she'd be gone.

And then the day came.

And she was gone.

He was brought back to the moment by a happy laugh, Tera pulling her mother's beanie off as she climbed her head, looking overjoyed to be with her parents.

She was so happy now, so energetic, so wild and carefree, he felt cemented in his choice, that it was the right one. But sometimes he was simply just jealous of her new parents; despite the fact they seemed wonderful.

They got to experience her first words, first steps, spoil her rotten. All the things he wanted to do, to be the dad he never got to have.

“Papi! Happy! Mama!” She yelped out a short string of words, beaming happily as the family went inside. Resting on her mother's shoulder- they made eye contact.

She recognized him, not as her dad but… as someone she knew. Her mouth tilted upwards and she gave him a happy wave, kicking her feet.

He gave a small, bittersweet wave in return.

Next ->

#murder drones #oil is thicker then blood #uzi doorman #asks #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #tera doorman #n and uzi #hi #yeah work is making these a little harder to pump out i'm SORRY #also enjoy some angst hehe

80 notes · View notes

earthtooz · 2 years ago

Text

x : SHADE MATCH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo loves your lipstick. even more so when it's on him.

warnings: suggestive towards the end so i am making this a 16+ post, fluff, UNEDITED ASF, 1.3k words, gn!reader, just... me loving reo, reader wears makeup, i am going crazy over him tbh.

a/n: i blacked out writing this tbh. enjoy !! wrote this on a whim 100%

you’re carefully applying your lipstick when a demanding yet familiar figure makes himself known in your peripheral.

glancing over, you catch reo’s eye in the mirror as he leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, subtly adjusting the cartier watch adorned around his wrist. he’s not wearing his blazer jacket yet, and the undone first few buttons of his shirt leaves more to be desired.

you look away before you can fall further in the rabbit hole, puckering your lips a few times before fixing up any stray splashes of colour dotted around your skin. smiling in satisfaction, you cap your lipstick before putting it back with the rest of your cosmetics.

two sculpted arms snake around your waist, and reo’s face finds home next to yours, eye-level with you as he blatantly admires your reflection.

“stunning as always,” he murmurs, smugness dripping in his tone, and the way his hands squeeze at your hips tell you that he has some less than pure intentions.

“thank you. could say the same about you,” you say in return before breaking eye contact, leaning to grab the necklace you had laid out in preparation for tonight. “keeping your hair down tonight, love?”

reo runs a hand through his locks, letting the fringe fall back in place as he hums in contemplation. “i don’t know, what do you think? what you want me to do is what i’ll choose.”

“you know i love it either way,” you say, “doesn’t change how beautiful you are.”

he beams, your words having an obvious impact on him, but before he could shower you with compliments in kind, you raise your unclasped necklace to him.

“help me out?”

“anything for you,” the purple-haired delicately takes the jewellery from your hands, his heart swelling three times in size when he realises it’s the one he bought for you. in fact, he already noticed that you were wearing the outfit he bought for you, thrilled at how wonderful you looked dressed in his money.

of course, if he said that thought out loud, it would probably be received with a not-so-gentle punch from you.

he’ll communicate it properly one day but for now, he mutedly admires you, gently brushing his fingers along your neck as he does the clasp for you. after a few moments, reo tells you he’s done by turning you around himself, hands lingering on your hips.

“what are you staring at?” you ask after a while of him simply admiring you, taking his time as if you had all the time in the world.

well. if that’s what you wanted then reo would make that happen.

“just the most beautiful masterpiece i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” he replies, hand snaking up to delicately hold your chin, and you realise what he’s trying to do when you see the way his eyes begin to droop before leaning in close.

“no, don’t ki-” you get cut off regardless with the gentle press of reo’s lips against yours, and you falter a little, needing to hold on to the bathroom counter for some semblance of security as the athlete leisurely moulds his lips with yours.

there’s no brain space to dwell over your lipstick when reo is kissing you breathless, pressing you harder against the counter. you pull away with a shiver, pressing a finger to his lips before reo could get ahead of himself and let the kiss heighten in intensity.

the groan he lets out is an indicator of how unhappy he is with your blocking, but you can only take his pout so seriously when he has your lipstick smeared all over him. you probably look no better and you feel a little scared to turn around and see for yourself.

his breath fans heavily across your lips, eyes gleaming with lust and adoration as he looks down at you. “what was that for?” he complains.

“my lipstick, you ruined it,” you say, “and it’s all on your lips too.”

the athlete smirks, eyes widening in realisation. “is it now?” he asks before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you feel it linger before turning around to look in the mirror, confronted by a clear kiss mark on your skin.

“reo!” you huff, “this is hard to wipe off, you know.”

“just put concealer over it.”

you could slap him and it’s clear that he sees the intent in your eyes because he ducks away, covering his head with boisterous laughter slipping past his lips, the noise echoing around the marble of the bathroom. “please don’t hit me, i’m sorry!” he laughs, trying to sound sincere to no avail.

at the sound of your sigh, reo loosens up, grinning even wider when he sees the way your face lights up at his antics. he decides that he truly is willing to do anything for you, so long as he gets to see you smile at the end of it.

it’s reckless to think so but then again, falling in love with you hasn’t been anything short of, love filling up his lungs until he needs to pour it all out, only to be filled again with every second he finds himself lost in you.

“fine. this will be payback,” you mutter, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in, placing a kiss on the open expanse of his chest, right near his collarbone.

reo wonders if you could feel the way his heart rate spiked.

after lingering there for a few seconds, you pull away, satisfied with the mark you left behind. “now we’re even.”

you step away from where he had you against the counter, looking for makeup wipes and your concealer to have the two of you looking perfect again. but when reo looks at himself in the mirror, he is immediately entranced with the mark you left behind.

reo wonders if it was too ridiculous to want it tattooed.

“here,” you say, pressing the makeup wipes against his chest which reo dumbly catches, mind still faraway even when you order him to clean up.

without thinking, he obeys, cleaning the makeup off his lips. still dazed, he hadn’t realised that you were already done.

“you forgot a spot,” you point out before the purple-haired can feel a cool cream be spread on his skin- your moisturiser, he realises. after putting lip balm on his lips, you make a move to wipe the lipstick stain off his chest when reo snaps back to reality, stepping away from you. “reo… i need to get that off.”

“no, i think it should stay,” he says, voice laced with fascination.

“babe, c’mon, don’t be silly, you sh-”

“-i’m not being silly, it’s a very nice, very territorial addition to my outfit.”

you’re horrified at the imagery of reo parading around with your kiss mark on his chest. granted, it wasn’t incredibly bold or out-of-place, and if you were going somewhere a little less formal, you would have inclined to agreed.

“i am going to be seeing your parents tonight.”

“they have an eye for art.”

“reo-”

“listen beautiful, what do i gotta do get you to agree?”

“do the dishes for a month, pay for my emotional reparations, donate a grand to charity, and show me a good time, and only then will i agree.”

“too easy,” he smirks. "hope you're ready for the time of your life then, you know i don't like to go the easy route."

#nobody look at me #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock

1K notes · View notes

cinnaleaf · 18 days ago

Text

ESSENCE OF US - CH 16: TIME WILL TELL

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | CH 15 | MASTERLIST | CH 17 (soon)

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: angst, fluff, language, therapy representation, mentions of mental health, scenes inspired by serendipity the movie, writer/reader inside joke wc: ~11.9k (sorry) 💌: idk how slot got in here but im rocking with it song inspo: The Sun x KYLE ft. Bryson Tiller & Raphael Saadiq

The first year after your break up with Trent went just how you would expect it to go – terribly.

It felt like trying to unspool a stubborn thread that wouldn’t come undone. The breakup coupled with Les Notes d’Amour no longer existing due to sabotage and betrayal left you feeling emptier than ever. You spent weeks replaying the sequence of events trying to pinpoint the exact moment your dreams turned into ash. Ember was nothing more than a pawn for Aaron’s game. She became a vehicle for him to drive his petty vendetta into the heart of your life. Her misguided attempts at gaining his approval quickly backfired and left her a jobless criminal.

Tara on the other hand, was nothing more than a girl who loved a gossiping yap session, though she was more careless than malicious. None of it mattered anymore though. You already lost everything, including the one person who may have been able to help you navigate it all. You figured it would be easier to cut ties in order to protect him from the wreckage you became.

The tears came first – there were enough of them that you were genuinely surprised you were somehow still hydrated. They started off as silent tears that soaked into the plush folds of your pillow at night, but then they turned into loud ones that made your chest heave in the shower when no one else was around. You thought the tears would stop as time went on, but they never really did. Instead, they settled into an ache that you became used to.

The first few months of the year were spent in bed, trapped between the walls of your apartment while the rest of the world passed by. Your days blurred together into one endless loop of doom scrolling, ignoring calls, and deleting messages. Trent’s messages came frequently at first. He went back to the simple texts he used to send when you first started dating, but each notification alert struck you like lightning.

I miss you.

Talk to me Y/N. Please.

I don’t understand why you’re shutting me out.

I love you. I always will.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open any of them, or even read the previews for long. If you let the words sink in for too long, you knew you’d let the warm cadence of his voice play in your head…and you knew you would cave. You couldn’t afford to cave.

So you blocked him – his number, social media, email, everything.

You thought that would be the end of it, but then an account by the name of ‘scentimental’ followed you. You wanted to relock your account after your break up but never got around to it. The instagram follow made you take a second glance, almost as if your intuition knew something you couldn’t quite place just yet. You weren’t in the mood to entertain any random accounts, but you tapped on the profile anyway. It had one post featuring a blurry picture of a perfume bottle on a window sill with a caption:

Some things don’t fade, no matter how hard you try.

You stared at it for a long time as your finger hovered over the profile. The bio was empty, the follower list was suspiciously small, and the account only followed you and a few random fan accounts. You immediately received a DM, sensing that same magnetic feeling you always felt with Trent. That feeling was something you missed, so you opened the DM, chasing the feeling one last time.

Hey, Y/N. Love your work! I saw something that reminded me of you the other day. You’ve been really quiet lately. Wondered if you were still out there making the world smell better?

The messages were vague, but not vague enough for you not to peep what was going on based on the phrasing and timing. This wasn’t a random account at all; it was Trent’s burner account. You stared at the messages for a while, hovering your finger over the block button.

“Seriously?” you muttered while shaking your head. He couldn’t possibly believe you wouldn’t notice, the man wasn’t subtle at all. He could have at least followed a few more accounts and pretended a little better, but it was clear he would do anything to get even a small snippet into your life now that you had locked him out. You let out a deep sigh, pressing the block button without bothering to send a reply as you tossed your phone on the bed.

As more months went by, the twins had become your lifeline to the outside world. Ezzie made it her personal mission to pull you out of the pit you sunk into. One day, she showed up with her hands full of groceries as the sound of the door opening broke through the silence of your apartment. She didn’t bother knocking anymore because she knew you wouldn’t answer.

The soles of her trainers stamped against the hardwood floors as she cut through the silence with her voice. “You should really start locking the door properly. What if it wasn’t me? What if I was some random person here to steal all your stuff and murder you?”

Your body was buried underneath a weighted blanket and you didn’t bother looking up. “They would be doing me a favor honestly. I don’t care anymore.”

Ezzie set the bags down on the kitchen counter with a huff, scrunching her face up in frustration. “You’re really dramatic. Just lock the door, okay?” You let out an irritated sigh as she started unpacking groceries filled with ready meals, snacks, and fresh fruit. She knew you probably wouldn’t eat any of it, but she bought it anyway – every week.

“You really shouldn’t spend your money on me” you mumbled as your voice muffled through the thick layers of the weighted blanket you were huddled under.

“I shouldn’t have to, but here we are. Someone has to take care of you if you won’t.” She rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter while crossing her arms. “I should charge you an inconvenience fee. Do you know how hard it is to carry all of this every week? I hate manual labor.”

“Maybe you should’ve stayed home then.” you shot back very weakly.

“And let you rot in here?” she quipped. “No way. Ziggy would’ve sent me up here anyway. He’s downstairs by the way. He didn’t want to deal with your sulking today.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“You’re literally sulking right now.” She motioned toward you huddled underneath the blanket, toying with the remote because the episode of Grey’s Anatomy you were watching had just ended in Derek’s death. That episode usually made you cry, but all you could do this time was shake your head and change the show to something else just as equally depressing.

“Before you tell me to leave, I’m not. I don’t want to hear your ‘woe is me’ speech. I brought snacks and I’m staying until you eat something that’s not depression air.”

You peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at her like you were seeing daylight for the first time in weeks. “I don’t need you to babysit me, E.”

“Umm. Clearly, you do.” She walked over to the couch, plopping down next to you. “You’re acting like life ended when Love Notes burned down. I get it was really bad and you’re torn up about it, but you’re still alive Y/N. You have people that care about you. You can’t just give up like this.” Your sister’s voice softened at the end. She wouldn’t say it outright, but this was a lot worse than last time and your behaviour scared her.

“You don’t get it” you muttered, pulling the blanket back over your head.

“No. I definitely don’t” she admitted frustratingly. “You can’t keep hiding from the world. It’s not a healthy way to cope.”

You sighed and pushed the blanket off as you sat up. “What do you want me to do then, Ezzie? Pretend everything is fine when it’s not? My career is gone, my shop is gone. Trent’s gone. Everything I’ve ever cared about is just...gone.”

Ezzie frowned. “Trent is not gone. You pushed him away.. there’s a difference. Love Notes may be gone, but that doesn’t mean your career is. You’re acting like this is the end of your story when it’s not. You can still keep going and rebuild something.”

“No. I don’t want to rebuild.” you snapped as your voice cracked. “I’m tired. I’m really so fucking tired.”

Ezzie pouted her lip and reached out to give you a hug. “But you can’t stay here forever. I won’t let you.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hall and Ziggy appeared in the doorway with an unreadable expression. “Can I come in or is this intervention for girls only?” he asked dryly.

Ezzie rolled her eyes. “Come in. Maybe you can knock some sense into her.”

Ziggy walked over and dropped a bag in front of you. “Brought some food,” he said casually. “I thought maybe you would eat it if it was something you like.”

You looked at the bag, shaking your head as your stomach knotted. “I’m not hungry but thank you.”

Ziggy gave a disapproving look but didn’t push it. He sat on the floor next to the couch, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. It seemed like he had the growth spurt of a lifetime as soon as he started academy. He took his hoodie off, revealing the Liverpool emblem stitched on the corner. You froze as you eyed the crest – it sent a pang straight through your heart. You looked away, pretending to adjust your blanket, but in reality, you wanted to cry. You hated that something so simple made you feel this way, but it did.

Ziggy was on his phone, rapidly tapping his fingers to fill in the awkward silence. “You know…” he started casually, not looking up. “Trent asks about you.”

His name made you stiffen instantly as your hands clenched the blanket. “Ziggy..”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if he didn’t just bring up the person’s name you were desperately trying to avoid. “Just saying he’s concerned. He’s not doing so well either.”

“Ziggy. Stop.” Ezzie said, leaning over to grab his hoodie. She flipped it over so that the emblem was hidden, then she shot him a death glare. “Don’t bring him up right now.”

“I’m not bringing him up” Ziggy voiced defensively. “I’m just saying he cares. He asks how she’s doing every time I see him. That’s all.”

You exhaled, feeling extremely guilty about how you ended things with Trent. “You don’t have to tell him anything. He’ll get over it eventually.”

“Yeah, I know. But he’s really persistent. I don’t think he’s doing it to be annoying. He just really –”

“Isaac.” Ezzie cut in, so irritated that she used his legal name. “Let. It. Go.”

He sighed, scratching his head. “Okay! Damn. I’ll drop it.”

The room went silent aside from the chatter coming from the tv and the sound of Ezzie unloading groceries in the kitchen. Ziggy picked at a loose thread on his joggers as he glanced up at you before quickly looking away. “It’s hard to see you like this Y/N. You don’t even leave from here.”

“I do leave. Sometimes.” you retorted.

Ziggy arched his brow, not buying your statement at all. “When? When do you leave? Because you’ve been in the same spot every time I come over here. And I’m here a lot.”

You slumped further into the couch, rolling your eyes. “I go places. I don’t need to announce when I go somewhere. I’m not a child.”

“Yeah? Where did you go last?” he challenged, putting his phone back in his pocket.

You opened your mouth, but the brain fog had gotten to you so bad that you couldn’t think of something plausible quick enough. “The shop down the street” you muttered, not sounding convincing at all.

Ezzie popped her head out from the kitchen with a box of cereal in her hand. “She’s lying. I have her location on and the little circle never moves from here. She doesn’t even check for mail.... I do.”

You let out an irked sigh. “Okay. I don’t leave that often. Happy now?”

“No.” Ziggy replied flatly. He gestured toward the untouched takeaway bag. “And you don’t eat either. Y/N you look...bad. Like a sad Victorian child. You need to eat something.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You glared at him, taking all offense.

Ezzie walked over setting water in front of you. “He’s trying to say we’re worried about you...but in his own way.” she said gently, pointing toward the takeaway. “Maybe just take a bite? At least try it…”

You stared at the bag. You wanted to eat, but your brain wasn’t connecting to any of your hunger or thirst receptors and you just felt numb the majority of the time. The thought of eating anything besides crisps here and there made your stomach churn.

“I’m not hungry.” you repeated the same as earlier.

Ziggy threw his head back, groaning dramatically. “Y/N come on. We’re not leaving until you eat something. I got pad thai.”

You sighed, pulling the bag towards you. The smell of the food was comforting, although you still weren’t all that hungry. You grabbed the container of pad thai and pulled the lid off. Ziggy and Ezzie eyed each other as you took a bite, doing the twin telepathy thing they always did since they were little.

“See? Not so bad, right?” They spoke in unison eerily.

Them speaking in unison always freaked you out a bit and you found yourself frowning while lazily chewing a mouthful of noodles. “It’s really creepy when you both do that...but the pad thai is fine. Thanks.”

After an unplanned but filling dinner, Ziggy tilted his head, watching you carefully as you wrapped your blanket around yourself again. “What’s your game plan?”

“My game plan for what?”

“To get better,” he said simply. “You can’t stay like this.”

You recently scheduled an appointment for a therapy session, but no one else knew besides Camille. You fidgeted with the edge of your blanket and sighed, finally admitting you were at least trying to be better. “I have an appointment with a therapist in a few weeks.”

Ezzie’s face lit up with excitement. “Really?!”

Ziggy looked skeptical and eyed you to see if you were telling the truth. “Forreal? You’re actually gonna go?”

You glanced between the two of them. They were 17 now, and the tables had flipped. Instead of you trying to take care of them – they were taking care of you like you were their kid, and it made your heart hurt. It wasn’t fair to them and you knew it.

“Yes Ziggy.” you replied in annoyance. “It’s just one session so don’t get too excited. But I’ll see where it goes.”

“That’s just the first step,” Ezzie smiled softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Ziggy nodded, agreeing with his twin but he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, same. Just don’t cancel. Gotta see it through.”

You sighed, scrolling through your phone while cuddled into your blanket. “I’m not going to cancel. Promise.”

The day of your appointment, Camille’s car glided through morning traffic while soft R&B played in the background.

“Nervous?” she asked, glancing over at you from behind her Loewe sunglasses. You were staring out the window, nibbling on your fingernails as the buildings blurred past you.

“No. Not really.” you lied, feeling your stomach knot together.

Camille knew you better than that and was skeptical, but not pushy. “Dr. Ali is good...like really good. She won’t sit there and make vague comments like ‘How does that make you feel?’ She’ll push you but not in a break you down type of way. She’ll build you up with what’s already there.”

You arched your brow up, pulling your gaze from the window. “How do you know so much about her?”

Camille smirked. “I do my research, babe. Never underestimate my sleuthing skills. You think I’d let my bestie walk into a dodgy therapist’s office? Not a chance. Dr. Ali went to Harvard, has years of experience and will probably be able to read you with just one look.”

“That sounds terrifying actually.”

“She’s not terrifying” Camille replied, making a sharp turn that made your body tilt a little. “She’s just real. You honestly need someone like that. I can only do so much. Just let her help you..even if it’s just to unload.”

You felt a pang in your chest and tugged at the hem of your jumper. “Maybe..”

The car pulled into a building with glass windows that reflected against the bright morning sun. Camille turned off the car and turned to you. “I’ll wait here. If you go in and decide you hate it, that’s fine. But at least try first.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped out the car with your emotional support water bottle, clutching it in your hand as you entered the building.

The waiting area was pretty minimalist and didn’t have anything that was overstimulating. There were a few plants scattered around to add greenery to the muted calming space. You checked in at the desk and sat down, fidgeting in the chair as you waited for your name to be called.

“Y/N?” a soft voice called out.

You looked up and saw a woman who looked like she was in her early 40s standing at the door. She had warm brown skin, curly medium length hair and wore trousers paired with a tailored blazer. You were imagining some old, decrepit lady, but this woman seemed very approachable from the start.

“I’m Dr. Ali” she said with a welcoming smile. “Come on in.”

You followed her into her office, which was just as inviting and warm as the waiting room. Her office had a large window that let in natural lighting, shelves lined with trinkets and books, and plush seating that could make anyone feel comfortable. As you sat down, she settled in the chair across from you.

“So, Y/N. Tell me what brings you here today.”

You didn’t know where to begin as you searched for an answer. “Umm....I guess....everything?” you said in a weak voice.

Dr. Ali nodded. “That’s okay. We can take it one piece at a time. Start with whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You sighed, taking a drink of water from your water bottle, though you weren’t really thirsty. You were carrying the water bottle around more as a coping mechanism than anything. “I really don’t know where to start. My relationship ended, my career went up in flames..literally. And my family…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Everything just feels fucked up and broken.”

Dr. Ali’s expression didn’t change, but she eyed you with calmness in her eyes. “Sounds like a lot of loss,” she said gently. “What was your relationship like?”

“Good. Really good for the most part, actually. His name is Trent. He’s a footballer. You’ve probably heard of him before.”

She didn’t confirm or deny, instead gesturing for you to continue.

“He’s amazing,” you admitted quietly. “He was always supportive and everything I wanted a boyfriend to be. But being with him meant attention. People started lots of rumours and just spewed utter nonsense. And when my shop burned down because of someone I thought I could trust…it felt like too much. It felt like I would just be dragging him into my mess.”

Dr. Ali leaned forward, keeping a curious but non judgemental tone. “So you let him go to protect him?”

You nodded, staring at your hands. “It felt like the right thing to do at the time. But now I really don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore, honestly. I feel really lost.”

“What about your family? You mentioned them earlier.”

You laughed dryly, no humour laced within. “Well that’s super complicated” you muttered. “My parents are more focused on appearances than the people behind them. They only care about me being the perfect daughter so they can parade me around for their own gain. They don’t really know me. They don’t even know my favorite color and it’s right in front of their face.”

Dr. Ali tilted her head with a calming expression that invited you to continue. “That’s a heavy burden to carry. Do you think that influenced how you approach things in life?”

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat as you swallowed. “It’s not just me though. My brother and sister feel it too. They’re twins..only 17 but my parents are the same with them. They pretty much treat us like trophies waiting to be displayed. And I have to make sure they don’t end up like me.”

Dr. Ali quickly wrote something down before she spoke again. “So you feel responsible for protecting them too?”

“I’ve been responsible for them since they were born” Your voice cracked. “My parents cared more about grades and achievement. The love and support was all on me. I helped them with their homework and packed their lunches most times. Sometimes it feels like I’m more of a parent than a big sister.”

The therapist kept her eye on you and the silence encouraged you to open up more. This woman was good as hell and you had barely been in there for 10 minutes.

“Now it’s like the roles are flipped” you continued, fiddling with the opening of your water bottle. “Since my shop burned down they’ve been taking care of me. Ziggy brings me food and makes sure I haven’t died off somewhere. Ezzie tries to get me out of bed or make me laugh. It’s like they took everything I taught them and turned it back on me.”

“That sounds like a testament to how much you mean to them. But I can see how it feels strange to have the roles reversed. Especially when you’ve never experienced those roles from your parents before.”

You felt tears begin to sting and fill your lash line as your throat tightened. “It does and I hate it. I hate that they feel like they have to take care of me because I can’t take care of myself right now. I should be the one doing that for them..not the other way around.”

“What about your parents?” Dr. Ali asked gently.

You let out a sharp exhale feeling bitterness rise within you. “They don’t give a fuck. They only call when they want something or to ask about Trent. My mum’s never even met him but was so interested because of who he is. Being with him validated me in their eyes and now that I broke up with him and have nothing they can capitalize on I’m back to being the invisible daughter. I’m only worth something if I make them look good.”

Dr. Ali made another note, keeping her voice steady and calm as she spoke. “It sounds like you spent a long time trying to fill a role they created for you. Have you ever been allowed to figure out who you are outside of that role?”

Her question made you freeze and you thought about it for a second, but you couldn’t answer. Dr. Ali’s question was forcing you to confront something you really never allowed yourself to think about.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t think I have.”

For the rest of the session, you talked about the destruction of Les Notes d’Amour and how it left you feeling like you lost a piece of yourself. You also talked about Trent and how letting him go was the hardest thing you ever did. When the session ended, Dr. Ali walked you out and gave you reassurance.

“Healing isn’t linear Y/N” she said as you reached the door. “But you’re here and that’s a good start.”

Camille glanced at you as you sat in the passenger seat of her car. “Well?”

You leaned back with a deep exhale. “She’s good.”

“Told you” Camille smirked, starting the car. “So you’re going back?”

You nodded, giving her a small smile back. “Yeah. I think I will.”

For Trent, the first year without you was just as brutal. Trent didn’t expect the breakup to hit him so hard, but it did. At first he thought he could push through the pain by burying himself in training, matches, partying, or anything else to avoid the emptiness he felt in his heart without you – but it never worked. Everywhere he turned, you were there. He could see you in the way Ziggy smiled. Sometimes he would hear someone laugh and the faint sounds of your laugh would come resurfacing back to his memory. He heard your name in the most unexpected places. He felt you in the soft floral notes of Enchantée – your very first creation and his mother’s favorite perfume that filled the air whenever she hugged him.

You were in the bed he couldn’t sleep in anymore due the void of warmth from where you used to lay. When he did sleep, he would reach out for you out of instinct at night, only to be met with cold sheets instead of the softness and warmth of your skin.

He tried everything to feel close to you again. His texts went unanswered, his calls you never picked up. He sent thoughtful gifts but they always came back marked Return to Sender. On Instagram, he still had your profile saved under his recent searches. He knew your posts by heart because it was the only connection he had to you outside of Ziggy. When you blocked him there, it felt like he had been punched in the gut, but he didn’t give up. He created a burner account – scentimental – a little nod to what brought the two of you together. He thought he was subtle enough leaving a simple message, but you preed it immediately and blocked him there too. He logged in a week later and saw the dreaded User Not Found when he tried to search your profile again.

“How did she even know it was me? Is she psychic or something?” he muttered to himself, staring at the screen in frustration. He threw his phone on the couch and sank into it, covering his face with his hands. He spent the majority of the year chasing after someone who felt like a ghost, knowing he would never catch up.

That night, Trent found himself slouching on the couch, trying to distract himself with the latest season of Love Island. It wasn’t really the same binge watching it without you. You always made watching it more fun from your commentary. He loved that you mocked the drama, laughed at the crazy flirting, or yelled at the screen whenever someone made a questionable decision.

On the screen, an islander named Cassie was crying in the corner of the villa while a boy named Logan was pacing in front of her, furious.

“So you’re just gonna do this now after everything? You’re pulling the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ card?” Logan shouted with his overly groomed brows arched in frustration. “That’s real fucking cliche. Play it up for the cameras, yeah?”

“I just need time!” Cassie wailed with mascara running down her cheeks. The girl looked a hot mess, honestly. “I can’t give you what you want if I don’t know who I am right now!”

Trent tilted his head at the tv in disbelief. He shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth to keep from yelling at the screen. Logan groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “You said you cared about me Cassie. It was all bullshit?”

“I DO care about you but I need space!” Cassie countered, breaking into another sobbing spell.

Trent grabbed the remote to turn the volume up. He could hear it just fine, but the parallels were striking and felt eerily familiar. The universe was funny in that way. He leaned forward, staring at the screen like it was going to give him the solution to his real life problem.

“Fucking hell” he muttered as Logan stormed out of frame. The scene then shifted to a confessional where Cassie started sobbing about how much she wanted it to work but needed to protect her peace first.

“Protect her peace?” Trent repeated out loud to no one in a sarcastic tone. “What the fuck does that even mean?” He turned the volume back down, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t bear to hear it anymore when it felt so eerily similar to what happened the night you broke up with him. “This is fucking stupid. I hate this show. Cassie’s a fucking producer plant, no shot this isn’t scripted.”

A few weeks later, disappointed chatter from the crowd was heard at Anfield after a terrible match. Trent was bent over with his hands resting on his knees. He was exhausted more than usual. Sweat dripped down his face, mixed with tears that weren’t quite visible to the naked eye. The score was 1-2, mirroring a devastating loss. Trent misplaced a pass during the last crucial minutes of the game, basically handing over a winning goal to the rival team. He walked off the pitch, avoiding eye contact with everyone else as he made his way down the tunnel. Slot was waiting near the changing room with his arms folded.

“Trent!” Slot called out in a sharp tone. “Need to talk. Now.”

Slot stood off to the side, piercing his gaze on Trent. “What the hell was that out there?” It was clear Slot was frustrated with Trent’s performance.

Trent shifted around uncomfortably. “It was a mistake. It happens.”

“A mistake?” Slot repeated in disbelief. “This hasn’t been a one time thing Trent. It’s been going on for weeks. Your focus is shit out there, your passes are sloppy as fuck and your energy is damn near nonexistent. You think you’re on holiday or something? People are starting to notice. You’re supposed to be a leader on this team and you’re not acting like it.”

“I’m trying,” Trent muttered with a tight jaw.

“Not good enough,” Slot snapped, stepping closer. “I can’t afford to put someone on the pitch who’s not mentally there. Pull your weight. Whatever you have going on in your personal life needs to be sorted out. Because if this continues, you’re going to find yourself benched. I didn’t plan on bringing Ziggy on this early, but the kid’s good at multiple positions. I’ll put him in your spot if you don’t fix it.”

The thought of being benched and replaced with Ziggy while he watched from afar made his stomach knot. He nodded stiffly. “Understood. I’ll fix it.”

Slot patted Trent on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re a great player Trent. But you need to think about what brought you here. For your own sake and the team’s.”

When Trent walked into the changing room, the usual post match banter was replaced with mostly silence. Trent sat down, staring at the floor while still in his kit. He felt a familiar presence and looked up to see Mo standing in front of him with his arms crossed in concern.

“You alright, brother?” Mo asked, low enough so no one else could hear.

“Nah. Not really.” Trent admitted with a heavy sigh. Mo sat down next to him, concern still etched on his face.

“What’s going on? You’re not yourself.”

Trent debated brushing Mo off, but the deep concern in Mo's eyes made him decide against it. “It’s a lot. The games, pressure...personal stuff. Don’t even know where to start.”

Mo nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe you should talk to someone. I’m not going to get all up in your business but it could help if you talk to someone professionally.”

“Like who?” Trent asked, frowning. “A therapist or something?”

“Yeah” Mo said, shrugging. “No shame in it. Everyone’s been there. Another perspective could help you get out of your own head..”

Trent leaned back against the wall with his legs stretched out in a manspread. “Nah..I don’t know about that. Feels like I’m admitting I’m weak.”

Mo chuckled lightly. “It’s not. I can give you a contact. She’s a family friend – Dr. Ali. She’s very good.”

Trent stared at Mo, weighing the suggestion. “You think it’ll help?”

“Inshallah. It’s worth a shot. You never know.”

Mo gave Dr. Ali’s contact details to Trent discreetly. Trent saved the number, staring at it before he put his phone back up in his bag. It could be the first step to getting back to where he needed to be.

Or at least figure out where the hell he went wrong.

When Trent arrived at therapy, he expected something a lot more clinical and overly sterile, but Dr. Ali’s office wasn’t any of that. There were no blaring fluorescent lights making his eyes hurt or making him feel like he was being interrogated like a prisoner. She had a diffuser that filled the therapy room with a lavender scent. It would usually be comforting, but it made him uncomfortable because it reminded him of you.

“Trent” Dr. Ali greeted in a professional tone, extending her hand. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Trent wasn’t sure if comfort was an option given how he’d been feeling lately, but he nodded and sat in the chair, leaned back enough to look relaxed but not like he wanted to be there any longer than he had to. The therapist watched him carefully, waiting to see what he would do next. She wasn’t in any rush, and it threw him off.

“Ever been to therapy?” she finally asked while sitting in the seat across from him.

Dr. Ali’s lips quirked, but not in a patronizing way. “Fair enough. The first time isn’t easy for most, but no pressure. Start with whatever you want to. Or we can just talk and get to know each other.”

Trent’s knees bounced restlessly while he sat, shifting around nervously. He couldn’t believe Mo had somehow talked him into this. He felt a bit stupid to try therapy. In his mind, it was too formal for what he was going through. He felt like he overreacted by even showing up to the place at all.

“Not sure what to say really. Feels pointless.” he muttered while frowning.

“You’re not the only one who says that. It can feel like that at first. But you’re here and that’s something.”

Trent’s jaw clenched as he looked up at her. “Yeah? So what’s it mean then?”

“That you want things to be different.”

He huffed and looked away, knee bouncing harder. “Maybe but I don’t know. My mate, Mo, gave me your contact. Said you were really good or something.”

Dr. Ali hummed softly. “Mo Salah, right?”

“Yeah..he said I should talk to someone.” Trent tugged at the string on his joggers, feeling exposed all of a sudden.

“And why do you think he said that?” she asked.

Trent exhaled. “Because I’ve been playing like shit on the pitch. I haven’t been right since…” He trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Since??” Dr. Ali prompted him to continue, gentle with her tone.

“Since my ex. Y/N.”

Dr. Ali paused her pen over her notebook before jotting down a note. “Tell me about her and your relationship.”

Trent’s throat suddenly went dry. He rubbed his hand down his face, staring at an area on the floor. “I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s smart...but stubborn as hell. She ran a shop called Les Notes d’Amour and made fragrances. It was her dream.”

“So you met her through her work?” Dr. Ali asked.

“Nah...well..sort of. We kept running into each other like it was serendipity or whatever. It sounds mad but that’s what it felt like. We met on a train, then at some café, and again at her friend’s launch. Next thing I knew I was walking into her shop asking for a custom scent. After that I was done for.”

Trent smiled faintly but then it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. “Her shop burned down because of her ex and an assistant. Then everything fell apart from there.”

“And you blame yourself for that?”

Trent’s head shot up. “No but at the same time, yes. I promised I’d protect her and I don’t feel like I did a good job of doing that. Feels like I could’ve done more, y’know? It’s been a year and I still think about her every day.”

“And thinking about her everyday...what does that look like for you?”

Trent looked at his hands. “It’s stupid stuff. I’ll hear someone that has her name on tv and my heart sinks for a second. My mum wears this perfume Y/N made. It’s called Enchantée and every time I smell it, I think about Y/N. I see her brother in training every day and I want to ask about her, but I can’t anymore because I know he’s trying to protect her.”

Trent went quiet for a while but then he continued. “And then at night..I’m always reaching for her and she’s not there. It sucks because I’ve tried to reach out and it’s gone nowhere.”

“What happens when you try to reach out to her?”

Trent laughed bitterly. “I’m blocked everywhere. I made a burner Instagram account just to check her page. I thought I was incognito and sent a simple message but she blocked me there too. Don’t even know how she figured out it was me behind it.”

Dr. Ali lifted a brow. “Why did you send that message?”

Trent scratched his head, embarrassed. “I just wanted to see how she was doing. We went from talking everyday to nothing. Feels like quitting something cold turkey and I hate that. It’s like I lost her forever.”

“What do you think stops her from contacting you?”

Trent shrugged in frustration. “I guess she didn’t want to drag me down with her but I didn’t see it that way. I would help her through anything..even now I still would.”

The therapist’s pen tapped against her notebook as she watched Trent. “You carry a lot of unresolved feelings about your breakup with her. And a lot of guilt too.” Trent didn’t respond and bounced his knee more.

“Let’s switch gears and talk about football for a minute. How’s that been going?”

Trent scoffed and shook his head. “Going like shit. I can’t focus at all. I replay every mistake in my head and I can’t let it go. I’m letting everyone down.”

“What happens when you make a mistake on the pitch?” she asked in a curious tone.

“I think about it for the rest of the game. Then it just spirals and one mistake turns into a lot more. I can’t get my head back in it and it used to be my escape.”

Dr. Ali leaned forward. “In therapy, I typically teach people how to break those cycles. We can’t change the past, but...we can change how we react to it and replace those thought patterns with healthier ones.”

“So what? You’re saying I need to let go?”

“I’m saying I can help you understand and process those feelings” she corrected in a soft manner.

Trent leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “I still don’t know if this therapy thing is for me.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to decide today.” she said with a smile. “We’ll work on it and see where it goes.”

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” he nodded with uncertainty, but felt less resistant than before.

“Same time next week?” she asked.

Trent stared at the floor longer than he needed to, and then sighed before nodding. “Yeah..same time.”

The second year without Trent wasn’t as bad as the first. You weren’t fixed, but you weren’t broken down either. Therapy helped you alot, and you began to move forward, even if it was just little baby steps. You had a new house, a new routine, and a new normal.

When you started packing your apartment up for the move to Manchester, it felt bittersweet. It was painful, but necessary. The last room you packed was your bedroom. Ezzie and Ziggy helped in their own way, which barely involved any packing. Ziggy was sprawled across your bed scrolling through his phone while Ezzie sat on the floor putting clothes into a box you tossed her way.

“Are you gonna miss living here?” Ezzie asked, looking up at you.

“Maybe a little..but it’s time” you said in a low voice, crouching down to pull out the drawer in your vanity. You reached behind it to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind, and you felt something hard against your fingers. You tugged at it, revealing your old and dusty perfume diary. The diary had all of your old formula notes and ideas in it. You sat on the floor, staring at the cover like you had just seen a ghost.

“What’s that?” Ziggy asked, giving a quick glance and then going back to his phone.

“Nothing” you answered quickly, flipping it open. It wasn’t nothing. The pages still smelled like bergamot as you flipped through. You landed on a page that had Trent’s handwriting on it. It wasn’t something you saw before, and it made you take a second glance.

I want you for as long as the stars shine.

You scoffed, laughing before you could stop.

“What?” Ezzie looked at you, curiously.

“Nothing. Just a reminder of how stupid I am.” You snapped the notebook shut and tossed it to the nearest box. Ezzie stared at you, but then she decided to let it go.

Ziggy still had his face in his phone but suddenly spoke up with perfect timing. “Trent’s still with his new girl by the way. Alannah.”

“I don’t think I asked.”

“Yeah but I’m telling you.” He flipped onto his back with a groan, his muscles still sore from training. “She’s leng but boring as fuck.” Ziggy propped his phone on his chest, trying not to laugh while he continued to spill the tea. “Forreal though. She’s got no aura. She’s fit, yeah, but she reminds me of mum’s chicken.”

You raised your brow, trying to hold in your laugh. “Mum’s chicken??”

“Dry. No flavor.” Ziggy emphasized, motioning like he was trying to season a chicken breast with something other than salt and pepper. “She’s fucking weird too. She won’t drink water unless it’s a certain temperature and she swirls it first like she’s in the movie ‘Get Out’ or something.” He mimicked her, twirling his fingers in an invisible glass. “Then she won’t sip it unless there’s a straw.”

Ezzie cackled loudly from across the room. “Shut up! You’re lying.”

“Swear down!” Ziggy held up his hand, completely serious. “Watched her do it at a team dinner and Trent just sat there like it was normal. Like bro..say something. Blink twice if you’re in the sunken place.”

You pursed your lips together, trying not to burst out laughing. “And what does she look like?”

Ziggy shrugged, dramatically. “Exactly like you would expect. She looks like a walking Lululemon advert.”

Ezzie snorted, tossing a pair of jeans in a box. “So she looks like every beige aesthetic girl on Tiktok then?”

“Yeah! Exactly that!” Ziggy pointed at his twin like she cracked a code in his mind.

“Leng, but boring beige girl who swirls her water while wearing Lululemon, huh?” you snickered while shaking your head. “Perfect match if that’s what he wants.”

Ziggy scoffed, sitting up. “Nah, he looks miserable. I asked him about her and guess what he said?”

“What did he say?”

“He said.. she’s nice.” Ziggy mimicked Trent’s voice, void of any enthusiasm. “Not she’s amazing or that’s the girl of my dreams. Just.. nice.”

A tiny smile cracked through your expression, but then it left. Dry chicken or not, she was there and you weren’t. Ziggy noticed your shift and he stopped teasing. He scratched his jaw, briefly stroking the facial hair that had grown on his face.

“Anyway she’s not that great. She’s boring. You’re–” He stopped mid sentence, looking at Ezzie for help.

Ezzie shot him a look that told him to shut up, then she finished his sentence for him. “She’s not you Y/N.”

And maybe that was the problem.

When you finally arrived at the house in Manchester, it felt like you were closing one chapter and opening a new one. The new house had enough room for the three of you now that you all had officially gone no contact with your parents. It was in a comfortable neighbourhood, where neighbors said hello but didn’t pry too much.

It was a place to breathe...sort of.

Most of your breathing now consisted of Rêveur wafting through the air wherever you went. Thanks to Camille’s ability to persuade you into continuing to sell the scent at department stores through her manufacturer, the fragrance had spread in popularity over multiple continents. It was surreal to smell something that used to be so personal to you on strangers. Men walking past you on the street were wearing it. People’s husbands were wearing it on a simple shopping trip to Tesco. Even teenagers who were way too heavy handed with their sprays were wearing it. It followed you everywhere – almost like the universe was taunting you. You didn’t love the idea of smelling your past on a stranger’s skin, but it brought in a lot of money. Rêveur used to be you and Trent’s creation, but now it belonged to the whole wide world.

“You gotta stop frowning when you smell it” Ezzie told you one morning while lounging on the couch in one of your old hoodies. “It’s iconic now. You’re a fragrance legend.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “It literally feels like it’s haunting me. It’s meant for my footballer ex, but now Steve from accounting is wearing it to Piccadilly station on his morning commute so I can afford to live.”

Ziggy walked in mid rant, dropping his bag on the floor after training. “You didn’t have to keep selling it. I would’ve made sure you were good.”

He was right. Ziggy had been grinding through the academy the past two years and started training alongside the first team. Ezzie’s calendar was filled with castings, campaigns, and now New York Fashion Week. You were proud of them, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for the life you had before Les Notes d’Amour burned down. Including the life you had with Trent – especially now that Camille was engaged to Jules. She Facetimed you religiously during her wedding planning. You could see the huge diamond ring on her finger sparkling at every angle of light every time she called.

“I can’t deal with him right now” Camille sighed one night, pacing around her living room. You could see Jules in the background, quietly scrolling through his phone and wisely pretending he didn’t exist. Camille had become a bit of a bridezilla since the engagement.

“He thinks sage and laurel are the same color Y/N.”

You held back your laugh, not wanting to set Camille off. “Maybe he just doesn’t care which colors you choose?”

“Of course he doesn’t care. He’s a man.” she responded flatly, tearing up. “I can’t have sage at my wedding Y/N.. it’s sooo tacky. It has to be laurel.”

“So we’ll do laurel then. It’s not that deep.” you reaffirmed her, still not trying to laugh at Camille’s new bridezilla persona.

“It is that deep,” she snapped. “I really can’t deal with this right now.”

You nodded, letting her spiral in the same way she let you when you were worried about something miniscule. As you listened to her ramble about the difference between the shades of green, you started zoning out. You wanted to tell her about your decision to sell your formulas to a fragrance house during NYFW since you hadn’t told anyone else yet, but you couldn’t find a way to bring it up. So you kept it a secret – from everyone.

Little did you know, Trent was headed to New York too – but with Alannah.

The week of NYFW, Trent was in a quiet hotel room with Alannah as she tapped her nails against her phone screen. She sat on the bed in another Lululemon set that was void of any color besides neutrals while her hair was held up with a claw clip. The girl really had no fashion sense at all – not like you did. She looked like she was ready to head to pilates at any given moment. They matched at least – Trent wore his tracksuits as always, while she always wore Lululemon. Alannah irritated Trent though. Everything about her was aesthetically curated, clean, and so devoid of anything interesting or chaotic that it was extremely eerie. He didn’t want someone perfect, he wanted you.

Trent stood near the window, staring at the city traffic and people watching. New York was a lively city that moved fast, but in the hotel room it felt like life had been sucked out of him.

“Babe?” Alannah said suddenly while looking up from her phone.

“What?” Trent answered with agitation in his voice, his back still facing her.

“I didn’t want to say anything but...I found the ring.”

“Huh?” For a second, Trent thought she was joking. “What ring?”

“Don’t be daft Trent.” she giggled. “The little velvet box in your drawer? Are you planning something?”

He turned all the way around now, blinking. “Planning what???”

“Babeee. You know what. We’ve been together a while so it makes sense to head that way. I’ll pretend to be shocked when you ask” she winked.

The silence was awkward…very awkward. Trent looked at her like she was an idiot. “Alannah, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The engagement RING. I’m not stupid. I saw it.”

Trent ran a hand over his face, trying to process how he wanted to continue, but then he gave up. “Yeah, no. That ring isn’t for you.”

Silence.

Alannah looked as if the perfection in her had short circuited, clearly the girl wasn’t used to being told no. No matter how hard she tried to force it.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s not for you” he repeated more clear this time, painfully obvious to him but not to her.

Her face contorted into a mix of embarrassment but also anger as she processed his words. “Then who the hell is it for Trent?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s just not for you.” he muttered while turning back to the window.

“It doesn’t matter?” Alannah’s voice went higher. “You’re serious? I’ve been with you for almost a year. Met your mates, travelled, pretended to care about football. And I’m just some placeholder?”

“I’m not about to argue with you right now.” Trent turned back to her, his tone flat. “Not in the mood for it.”

“Oh, we are” she shot back, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. This was the most personality she’d shown since meeting him at the club one night. “You don’t want to have sex anymore, you barely spoke on the plane ride here, and now I’m finding out there’s a ring that’s not for me? You’re wasting my time!”

“Then leave.” Trent said in an unbothered tone.

Alannah’s mouth fell open, caught off guard. “Are you serious?”

“Full stop” he shrugged. “I’m not marrying you. Never planned to, never will. I don’t feel that way about you.”

He didn’t mean to be that harsh about it, but there was no point in keeping up with the charade anymore. Alannah fumbled with her bag as she stormed out the room in tears. “You’re such a dick. And you’re not that cute by the way. Let’s see who’ll put up with all your bullshit like I did.”

Trent didn’t answer and instead watched her as she slammed the door so hard the empty hangers rattled in the hotel’s wardrobe.

“Glad that’s over with.”

A few minutes later, Trent headed outside with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets as he walked through the Lenox Hill area of Manhattan. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed to breathe in something else that wasn’t stuffy hotel air or Alannah’s suffocating perfume that he never liked. He wandered aimlessly past the people of New York City, letting the noise of the city drown out his thoughts. He really only dated Alannah to keep the other side of his bed warm, but she could never compare to the way he felt with you. He was checked out of that relationship from the moment it started. She couldn’t be you – no one could.

Eventually he stopped. Looking up to see he was at 225 East 60th Street

Serendipity 3 was a cozy spot he never heard of before that was known for selling frozen hot chocolate and had grown in popularity because of a 2000s rom-com film. He could see a couple sitting off to the side, sharing a hot chocolate at a small table with twinkling lights. They looked like they were on their first date, but he saw the way they looked at each other. It reminded him of the first date he had with you.

Then he smelled something. Vanilla and amber. Vanille Étoilée.

The nostalgic scent of you made him freeze on the spot. He whipped his head around, eyes darting through the crowd. He saw a familiar silhouette walking a bit further ahead, just turning the corner. He thought it was you, but he couldn’t be for sure.

“No shot…” he whispered, heart racing. He started weaving through people in a speed walk with the smell guiding him like a thread. When he reached the corner, he looked down the street but he didn’t see anyone who looked like you. There were nothing but taxis, Uber Eats bike couriers, and faceless strangers walking by. He stood there, looking around in a dazed state, staring at everything but also nothing at all as the noise of the city became the soundtrack of his confusion.

In a city like New York, you had to be a fast walker. You were a few blocks away now, but you smelled him too when you turned the corner. The faint scent of Rêveur enwrapped you, bringing back a flood of memories. That wasn’t out of the ordinary for you now that the scent had become a bestseller. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. You figured it was just another stranger wearing a scent you once created for the love of your life. Nothing more.

You couldn’t be any more wrong, but neither of you turned back.

“I’m losing it” Trent whispered to himself, dragging his hand across his face.

Maybe he was, but the universe had other plans.

An hour later, you found yourself inside Bergdorf Goodman on 5th Avenue. The marble floors reflected the ambient lighting of the circular chandeliers above. The department store was filled with luxury goods like Gianvito Rossi, Moncler and Saint Laurent. You weren’t looking for anything specific, just window shopping and killing time before your big meeting. The fragrance section immediately drew you in. You looked at them all until you saw one single bottle of Rêveur sitting on display. It really was a bestseller.

You walked over to it, reaching out for the bottle instinctively as your fingers brushed the cool bottle. Another hand met yours at the same time and you froze, smelling the scent of bergamot, lavender, sandalwood and apple drifting into the shared air.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to–” Trent’s voice stopped mid sentence. His familiar voice threw you for a loop in the sea of American accents. You felt your heart drop as you glanced up, trying not to give away how rattled you were. Trent’s hand pulled away a bit, almost like he wasn’t sure whether to back away or stand his ground.

“Oh.” The word slipped out before you could think of anything else. “It’s you. Hi.”

Trent tilted his head, a small smile appearing on his lips. “It’s me. Hi.”

The silence stretched longer than it needed to as the magnetic tension you used to feel reappeared. You were painfully self aware of everything – how the bottle felt, how good Trent looked, how fast your heart was beating, and how Vanille Étoilée and Rêveur were enwrapping to create one intoxicating scent.

“I didn’t know you shopped at Bergdorfs…” you said finally, looking him in the eye as you pulled away from the bottle of Rêveur.

“I don’t” Trent shrugged, stepping closer to you. “Was just walking by and something pulled me in.” He eyed the bottle, grabbing it and resting it in the palm of his hand as he smiled back at you. “Guess I know what now. It’s the last bottle.”

“And here I was thinking I was special,” you smiled back.

“You are.” The words slipped out so naturally you weren’t sure if he meant to say it out loud.

You glanced back at the bottle of Rêveur in his hand and cleared your throat, trying to find anything to talk about to settle the awkwardness.

“So..um..you still wear it then?” you finally asked.

“Never stopped.” He tilted his head, searching your face for something. “Can’t bring myself to switch but it’s getting harder to find nowadays.”

You bit your lip, trying not to show your widening grin. “A number one bestseller will do that.”

“I guess so” Trent’s gaze drifted to your left hand and you clocked it instantly. He was checking to see if someone else had scooped you up.

“Looking for something?” you teased, cocking your brow.

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh..nah. Just checking. You’re not all that easy to keep up with these days. You even blocked my burner.”

You blinked, surprised he brought it up, but then you smirked. “...Scentimental. Really Trent?”

“I thought it was a good name” he defended himself with a sheepish grin. “How did you know it was me?”

“You were following a JudeTrent fan account and then you sent me a DM that sounded exactly like you. Didn’t take much. You’re not that subtle.”

“Ah, damn. I thought I was incognito enough” he muttered with a soft laugh.

“You weren’t. But A for effort.”

Trent’s gaze on you softened and he felt an itch to reach for you, but he couldn’t – you weren’t together anymore. He hesitated during a pause of silence, then spoke up. “So how have you been?”

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant even though you were everything but. “Busy…”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.” You glanced down at your phone, your pulse spiking as seconds ticked by. You needed to go but you didn’t want to be the one to leave first.

“You free? To catch up, I mean..”

You heard the vulnerability in his voice and it immediately made you want to say yes, but you forced yourself to keep it together. “I have a meeting. I’m already cutting it close.”

His jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Right. No problem.”

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “But maybe if it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again?”

“You think so?”

You nodded, giving him a bittersweet smile. “Yeah. It’s worked before, right?”

“Guess so.” Trent smiled just enough to make your chest ache. You stepped back, walking away before looking over your shoulder. “Bye Trent. Nice seeing you again.”

“Bye Y/N…”

The further you walked away from him, the harder it was to breathe. You didn’t look back again, but you could feel him watching you leave. As you disappeared into the crowd, Trent stood there – frozen in place as he inhaled the faint remnants of your scent in the air.

“If we’re meant to see each other again..we will.” he said to himself.

After you left Bergdorf’s in a hurry, your heart was racing. It felt like no time had passed between you, even if it was somewhat awkward. You had no time to think about that though. You had an important meeting to get to.

Or so you thought.

By the time you arrived, you were already running a bit late. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily as the lift dinged with each floor. When you finally arrived, you bolted to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hi. I’m here for the meeting with the fragrance house.” you said, a little breathless.

The lady at the desk gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry Miss L/N, but that meeting ended over an hour ago.”

Your stomach sank. Thanks to jetlag and a five hour time difference, you miscalculated the time of the meeting. You fumbled for your phone, scrolling through the calendar. The meeting time was clear as day – an hour earlier than what you originally thought.

“Would you like me to reschedule?” the receptionist offered in a kind voice.

“No.” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s fine. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Thank you though.”

You walked back to the lift with your shoulders slumped. When the doors opened, you barely noticed the person already in there until they spoke up.

“Y/N right?”

You turned to see a girl in head to toe athleisure, swirling a straw around in the drink she was carrying.

“Yes?” you replied hesitantly.

She smiled a bit too knowingly. “I’m Alannah. Trent’s ex.”

You were confused, but you kept your expression neutral. “Oh. Hi.”

As the lift descented, an uncomfortable silence filled the tiny space. You could feel Alannah’s gaze on you and it made you feel weird. Something about this girl was strange – Ziggy was right. Her perfume wasn’t a vibe either, it smelled awful.

Coco Mademoiselle, you thought to yourself. In this day and age??

“He’s mentioned you before,” Alannah said in an eerie tone, cutting through your internal judgement. “I mean..obviously not to me directly but..”

You scrolled through your phone, avoiding the awkwardness as best as possible. “I’m sure he has.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “That ring is for you, isn’t it?”

You stiffened, unsure of what she was getting at. “What ring?”

Alannah scoffed in disbelief. “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know why you’re here. Me and Trent broke up today and all of a sudden you’re here too? I’m not fucking dumb.”

You gave her the nastiest side eye, putting your phone back in your pocket. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to..but it’s definitely not me. It feels like you’re projecting. Maybe sort that out before you come for me babe.” You stepped out of the lift and into the lobby before she had a chance to say anything back, and before you had a chance to give her the filthiest read of a lifetime.

When you got back to your hotel room, you flung yourself on the bed with a groan, rubbing your temples. Trent, Alannah, and the missed meeting. It all felt like some lame, poorly written story on wattpad, but this was your real life.

It was supposed to be easy to get lost in a big city like New York, especially during NYFW, yet somehow you kept running into the past. You didn’t understand it at that moment, but the universe was slowly resewing the loose thread that connected you to him – waiting for the perfect moment to sew the final figure 8 knot in place.

A few months later, you were back at Anfield and it felt surreal. It had been over two years since you last set foot in the stadium. But now you were wearing your own surname on a shirt instead of Alexander-Arnold. The number 16 was displayed on the fabric, representing your brother’s first team debut. Ezzie was beside you, documenting everything on Instagram with her phone.

“This is so weird” you admitted as you sat in your seat.

“So don’t make it weird. We’re here for Ziggy, not Trent.” Ezzie affirmed, sitting beside you. “You probably won’t even notice he’s there.”

She couldn’t be more wrong. The entire game it seemed like him and Ziggy were attached at the hip, mirroring each other alongside the pitch. During the second half, Trent had a near perfect assist and Ziggy was able to score a goal on his debut night. Both of them were obnoxious as hell when they celebrated – they were still doing their crazy handshake that had somehow become even more ridiculous.

Although the game ended in a draw, Ziggy and Trent’s performance was the highlight of the night. The crowd dispersed from the stadium and you found yourself looking up at the sky – tonight there was a full moon. You decided to stay behind, letting Ezzie head home without you so you could process all the happenings of the night.

The last time you were here your heart was full of love and chaos, but now it was filled with remnants of the past and the newfound pride you felt for Ziggy. It was nice seeing him live his dream, but it was bittersweet at the same time because every time you saw a smile on your brother’s face...Trent was right beside him.

You made your way down to the pitch, walking to the center. You sighed, crossing your arms to shield yourself from the chill of the night as you tilted your head back, taking in the moon in all its glory.

“I didn’t think you would stay.”

His voice startled you. Mostly because of how much you missed hearing it. You turned around and Trent was standing at the edge of the center with his hands in his jacket pockets. The view of him alone nearly knocked the wind out of you. You had no idea he was still watching every full moon with you while you were apart for two years.

“I just needed a minute,” you replied softly.

Trent walked toward you slowly, trying to figure out if he was welcome or not. You didn’t move, so he continued to bridge the gap.

“Hell of a debut, yeah?” He nodded toward where Ziggy scored his first goal.

You nodded, smiling shyly. “He really thrives under pressure.”

“Nah, that’s all you.” Trent replied in a warm voice. “He’s lucky he has someone like you to keep his head on straight.”

You glanced away from him, taking in the view of the moon again. “Just doing what I need to do. He’s too young to handle it alone.”

Trent sat next to you, but kept a comfortable distance. He looked up at the moon, and then back at you. You found yourself instinctively scooting toward him. You convinced yourself it was because you were cold, but you knew better.

“I missed you,” Trent said, breaking the silence. His guard was fully down, emotion in every word.

“Trent…” you began, but he shook his head.

“Just let me say it Y/N” His eyes searched yours and you felt goosebumps appear on your skin. “I miss you every single day. I tried to move on..I really did. But I can’t. I miss you so much it hurts.” You felt a lump in your throat as tears welled in your eyes. You were trying so hard to keep it together, but you were crumbling fast.

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you admitted in a trembling voice. “I was really depressed Trent…I didn’t want to drag you with me.”

“I would’ve stuck beside you through it all.”

“I know,” you whispered. Tears started spilling down your face. “I didn’t mean what I said to you that night. I was angry..hurt..really scared. And I only blocked you because hearing about you or even looking at you hurt so bad. I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”

Trent moved his hand and brushed them over your knuckles lightly. He searched your eyes and you could see the pain of all the months he spent wondering.

“Never needed you to be anything but yourself, Y/N. I don’t care if you’re not perfect. I fell in love with you because you never tried to change yourself for me. I fell in love with every bit of what makes you, you. I just wish you would’ve given me a little longer. Been lost without you ever since.”

You glanced down as your tears fell more quickly now. Trent cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were glossy, filled with tears threatening to overflow. “You don’t get it Y/N. I’ve never seen you as someone that needs fixing. I love you the way you are. Through the good and the bad I’ll always love you no matter what.”

“I– I love you too....I’m sorry” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to do you like that. I honestly just didn’t know what to do. I–”

A faint crack of thunder made you pause. Trent’s thumb traced over your cheek, wiping away the tears that kept falling no matter how hard you were trying to keep them in. His gentle touch felt just as familiar as the moon hanging above you both.

“I didn’t know how to come back to you.” you murmured in a soft tone.

“I’d wait forever for you baby” Trent replied, barely audible over the soft drizzle starting to rain over you. “I only want you.”

“Trent..” You said his name like it was the only word you ever wanted to say again. Another clap of thunder broke from the sky as Trent pulled you into him, placing his hands on your waist. You couldn’t hold back anymore and found yourself wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The moment you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time all over again. Every part of you felt like it was being stitched back together with each movement of his lips against yours – like a stitched figure 8 knot.

When the rain began to fall harder, Trent pulled away breathlessly to take off his jacket, holding it above you to shield you from the rain, then he smirked at you.

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“What?”

“That’s what you said to me in New York” he reminisced. “You looked me dead in the eye at Bergdorf’s and told me that. Then you walked away like it was nothing.”

You let out a laugh. “And here we are..seeing each other again.”

“After two, long and miserable years.” he chuckled sarcastically, walking you toward the tunnel. You felt guilty, so you didn’t say anything back, but Trent sensed it immediately.

“I’m not saying that to guilt you.” he added. “I just don’t want to waste any more time wondering if I’ll see you again. I don’t want to leave it up to fate or serendipity or whatever we’ve been calling this.”

You didn’t want to leave it up to fate either. Not anymore.

“Trent..I really don’t want this night to end..” you admitted quietly. “I missed you so fucking much.”

He gave you a big grin, making your heart skip a beat. “Then let’s not let it end, yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come with me” he said, very matter of fact while smiling. “Anywhere. Right now.”

“Anywhere?” you asked softly.

“Anywhere.” he repeated, leaning in closely to kiss you again. “As long as I’m with you.”

thank you readers ily 🫶🏽

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold angst #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #taa x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold fluff #fem!reader #footballer fanfic #footballer imagines #trent alexander arnold imagine #Spotify

54 notes · View notes