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foreverisntenough · 7 months ago

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 12 - Mwah | ‘Ours’

You were thrilled when you found out Liverpool’s preseason was going to be in the US this summer. You practically screamed when Trent told you. You were so excited to have an excuse to go back to New York. You’d get to see your family, you’d get to tote Teddy around back where you grew up. It was just a perk this trip would happen to coincide with his work. It would be amazing to have your parents around Teddy for a bit as well.

Before preseason officially kicked off leaning into the end of July, early August, you spent the weekend out at your parents house out in Montauk, New York. You and Trent were really happy you’d get one last bit of time together before the season began. Being back at your parents place made you miss it a little. Home was England now. Home was wherever life took you with Trent and Teddy but a small piece of you still missed this place. The big open beach that had a different scent than the ones in the UK, the way the sun shone a little brighter, a little warmer on the horizon. Any case, you were glad you at least got this weekend to spend with your whole family and show Teddy the place you spent too many summers.

“Mmm C’mere baby.” Trent hummed pulling you into him in the bed you were sharing. It was funny staying in your childhood bedroom with him. Okay, it wasn’t really your actual bedroom it was your bedroom at your beach house but regardless he liked being able to get to know you a little more through it. Trent liked to explore what you had kept hidden in your desk drawers, finding little niche things that made you you, made this your space. It was nice but it was also practically being rubbed in your face you were at your parents home and not your own so you felt like you had to behave. Trent’s family was definitely more relaxed. Chill, if you will. They had rules of course, no messing about, but it was still a family of boys, whereas obviously you were a house of two girls growing up in Manhattan. Dianne sometimes would tease you saying she’s glad she got you as her daughter later in life. She wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Boys were easier. Her boy currently wanted to be easy for you.

“T” you sheepishly giggled. “We can’t. My parents are literally right downstairs.” You whispered as if you were 16 and you had snuck him in without them knowing.

“They’re watching a film. You’re in bed with me so why are you worried about them? Worry about me and taking these clothes off for me.” He cooed as he dragged the strap of your silk tank top off your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine in the best way.

“T! Please.” You let out a harder laugh amused by his advances. You pressed your palm against his chest pushing him away from you slightly.

"Mmnnmm.” he hummed dismissing your rejection. He was obsessed with this moment. The dark room only lit by the moon out over the ocean seeping in through the window. Your soft skin against his, the feeling of drowning himself in your scent. You were going to have to really convince him this was a bad idea to get him to stop. “Don’t be so scared, baby. Give me one kiss and then decide.” He cooed, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes fell into the pleading puppy dog look you couldn’t say no to. He kissed you and you moaned into his mouth almost immediately loving the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations running through you from the second they connected. You pushed your hips greedily into his.

“Okay, okay. You win.” You sighed into him. You dropped your hands over his shoulders and bent your elbows back to drape your hands to come grip his hair. You pulled him into you for a deeper kiss. You gasped a little as he pulled your top further down exposing more of you.

“You’re perfect, baby.” He flicked his eyes between yours, your lips, and your tits indecisively. He couldn’t decide where to fixate first. You let out a desperate moan when he finally landed on your tits brushing his thumbs over your nipples. “Shhhh. You need to be quiet. Yeah?” Trent hushed you when he heard the creek of someone walking up the stairs. You giggled, not interested in his request, too caught up in what he had started and proceeded to pull at the waistband of his boxers.

“Y/N… are you awake?” You heard a voice from behind your closed bedroom door. Trent pulled your top back over your chest to your displeasure. He got out of the bed abruptly and pried the door open. You were surprised he went so quickly but you watched as he leaned on to the door frame. His back muscles looked stupidly sexy. Winnie was behind the door. “Not Y/N” She laughed a little seeing Trent answer opposed to you and then a little more when she assessed both of your states. You were wide eyed and Trent was impatient with her wanting to get back to you.

“No, not Y/N.” Trent confirmed he was in fact not you. They conversed longer than you thought they would Trent, biting at Winnie’s proposal if you wanted to go to the beach tomorrow so they discussed plans at length before he returned.

“Let me take this beautiful baby girl. Should we make you a big breakfast?” Your mum was quick to pluck Teddy out of your arms. You had woken up early in the morning and carried her downstairs. You loved that she connected so well with her but it also confused you in a way. Watching her be so maternal, so nurturing and careful, none of the things she was with you. As your mum watched Teddy, you hopped upstairs and dragged Trent out of bed. It was obscenely early but you were running on borrowed time. His season began in a matter of days and you wanted to spend time with him. You put on a jumper of his and a tiny pair of shorts and insisted he went for a walk on the beach with you. Your house was on the coast next to a resort you remember not remembering so many nights spent there growing up, sneaking drinks with your friends. It was funny you and Trent had sort of the opposite trajectories. You were carefree and relaxed when you were young and now grew to be more rigid and organized. Trent was the reverse, now calm and easy going but grew up diligent and committed.

“I had my first kiss there.” You laughed strolling on the shoreline, recalling a boy you think was shorter than you force his tongue down your throat behind a cabana. You filled Trent in on that tidbit of your life pointing in the general direction of the scene of the crime.

“Don’t tell me that!” Trent scolded you looking at you like you were crazy. He could believe you just told him that. You’ve had this conversation once before and only once. He wanted to know everything but just once.

“Trust me I’ll remember what you tell me.” he confided in you that there wasn’t a shot in hell he’d forget the names of the people you were about to rattle off who had touched you, gotten to be with you.

“This is dumb! You have to tell me then as well.” You asked not wanting to expose only yourself. Telling a partner about previous relationships was always a tricky situation. You had to know. It wasn’t like you had met as virgins but you were adults. You had to be honest, you wanted to be honest with each other it just was scary.

“You really want to know?” He asked interested in your answer but slightly falling into a feeling of anxiety about having to tell you. Trent was… well he was a young footballer on a big stage to say women flocked to him was understatement. It was something you were definitely aware of and made you nervous but at the same time the thoughts of telling him about the unmentionables you’d done with stupid mistakes like Chase was not exciting.

“No, not at all. I guess I should though.” You looked him dead in the eyes and he regretted starting the conversation. He didn’t feel as strong as he usually did around you. He felt weak like you had the power all of a sudden.

“I was 15, relax!” You laughed pinching at his side. He gripped your wrist fast. He was so agile it caught you off guard.

“Don’t tell me that either! You have never kissed anyone but me.” He teased and pulled your body into his. His eyes narrowed looking at you seriously. You ran your palms over his chest draping them behind his neck scratching his scalp gently. You could feel him relax under your touch yet simultaneously go stiff trying not to get too turned on in public.

“Whatever you say” you pressed your lips to his. He hummed at the taste of your kiss. Trent secretly, or not so secretly because he’d told you before but, really liked knowing you had some sort of wild side, maybe daring. You’d commit to things. Him being one of those things. You spent 5 days straight with him right after you met. It was all very instinctual. You just grew up completely differently and yet you fit perfectly together and he loved that about you. He remembered on your first date being slightly bothered that he couldn't open wikipedia and read more about you. He wanted to know you intimately. He wanted you to read him a biography about your life, the sound of your accent hitting against his ears all night.

“Ran from the police once here too.” You giggled and his face contorted, shocked at your admission. There were still bits and bobs of information you didn’t know about each other, of course. You could never truly know everything but you had gotten close to that. Trent definitely didn’t know this piece of information though. You broke out of his gentle hold. “Didn’t catch me though.” You yelled, beginning to run away from him down the empty beach. He chased after you as you ran

“Come back here. Think you were really gonna be faster than me?” He caught you quickly grabbing onto your arm. You stumbled a little not able to catch your balance on the shifting sand and his hold dragging you backwards.

“I am faster than you!” You giggled out of breath falling into the sand pulling him down with you.

“You’re not but I love you despite your flaws” he teased, pinning your arms down to your side. Your heart faltered a little at his aggression. There were moments with Trent when he was unintentionally very sexy. He’d forget how strong he was, how weak you were in comparison.

“My flaws! What happened to ‘you’re perfect baby?” You asked breathing heavily beneath him, widening your eyes mocking his accented words. He hovered over you. He looked perfect as the morning sun rose up over the horizon reflecting onto the water and splashing onto his golden skin.

“You are perfect.” He kissed you. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed you again “You’re not very fast” he kissed you with a slight laugh and your lips curled into a smile as you shook your head at him. “And you’re all mine.” You let him rest his body weight on you, pressing you into the sand. You squirmed a little beneath him as he persistently smothered you with kisses all over your face

“I love you so much, T.” You cooed sincerely. Meaning each word that fell out of your mouth.

“I love you. You've changed my whole life.” He whispered, moving his lips only millimeters away from yours.

“You are my whole life, baby.” You took a deep breath feeling his big hands on your hips push up the bottom of your his jumper. He dragged it up over you until he could see the bottom of your lacey bra peeking out. He kissed up your stomach, slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. What he left behind were the signs of him, shiny spots caused by his warm spit. It was weird as you felt a memory of your first night together come rushing back. Like you were transported onto the hotel bed of the room you were in at The Plaza. You remember the feeling of his foreign lips on you, the ones you knew so well now like it was yesterday.

“God, please” he moaned. This wasn’t even directed at you, he just wanted some higher power to let him have you. You didn’t smile at him. Tears fell over your waterline. Your heart broke at the rant. He looked panicked. He looked distraught over how he felt. You wiped at your face before he took over slowly catching any tears.

“I didn’t really anticipate making you cry in bed. Not this way at least” you slapped at him gently, a smile starting to form. “Please” he softly begged you. You nodded wholeheartedly.

You should’ve known you’d fall for him then and there. You cried on your first date. Normally, you would’ve been mortified if that had happened and yet with a new stranger you felt completely safe. You wouldn't even call it a first date. It was like 7 in a row; dinner, the bar, the cab ride, the bedroom, the club, then the bedroom again. You laughed thinking how insane it was that he really did mean what he said, that he knew what he wanted, how certain he had been. You laughed recalling it all in grave detail.

“What are you giggling about, huh?" He interrupted your reverie. You looked up at the cheeky smirk appearing on his face as he watched you try to compose yourself under him. You pushed him away playfully trying to get out of the emotions that were crashing over you right now. It was too early to be that sentimental.

“I think we should get married here. What do you think?” He asked laying down next to you in the sand. He rested his head on your chest and slid his hand down to hold yours.

“Yeah… I think I’d fancy that. When?.” You asked him with a smile, liking the idea a lot. It hadn't really registered or settled in yet that you actually were going to get married, you’d have a wedding, so the exact location or date of it definitely hadn’t been thought about too much.

“Whenever you want. I’ll be there waiting.” You pouted at him. How did this stuff come out of his mouth? It was like he had it all rehearsed, like you were in a simulation being played and you loved every second of it. You laid there for a little longer before he pulled you up. “I am marrying a felon. Who knew?” he laughed.

“No. I told you, they didn’t catch me, remember?” You giggled in response but you fell into a comfortable silence after.

“What for…?” Trent asked and stopped walking, needing to know more. Needing to read the passage of your Wikipedia that broke down a run in with the law.

“It was stupid. Someone had thrown a party, there was underage drinking and a lady called the cops. I didn’t want my parents to know I was out so I took off.” you shrugged. His brow furrowed confused. “It’s really not a big deal here, honest. It's common, I think?” You tried to rationalize with him. He was quiet for way too long racking his brain. It’s not like he didn’t have fun growing up or have a drink before he was 18 but the police felt… intense. “You’re making me feel bad now!” you quipped.

“Well, you ran from the police!” he laughed, letting go of your hand and draping his arm around you.

“Oh well, not all of us are beloved local lads the police would let go are we?” You teased him. He knew what you were referring to. Trent would be lying if who he was hadn’t gotten him out of trouble. He told you about a few times where he had been pulled over driving by the police but they let him go after he simply took a selfie with them. His jaw slacked offended you’d bring that up. You nuzzled your face into his arm starting to feel almost dizzy by the whole conversation. “Do you still love me?” you sheepishly whimpered.

“What?” he shook his head at you confused laughing. “Obviously. What are you on about? I just asked a question. Of course, I love you.” he quipped before he abruptly grabbed your face with one hand. He pushed your cheeks together, pursing your lips for you. He smashed a wet kiss against them. You pulled away with a shy smile. His stare blank. “Got it?” he asked seriously.

“Got it. Jeez!” you laughed, wiping your mouth of some of the wetness that remained. He just rolled his eyes as you walked back inside the house.

You got ready to go to the beach later on in the early afternoon actually in bathing suits this time with Teddy and Winnie. Your sister sat on a towel and complained to you about how stupid some boy was dming her that Lauren was trying to set her up with. You lazily lounged on Trent while Teddy sat on his chest. He haphazardly held her. She occasionally would just topple over onto him still working on her balance but eventually she was definitely doing it on purpose, loving squishing her face against Trent’s warm skin, hearing his laugh, his chest vibrate and heart beat as his big hands kept her secure on top of him.

“You can never DM anyone, alright?” Trent cooed at Teddy, resituating her up right as she giggled, before falling again wanting to continue her game with him.

“DM all you want, Ted!” Winnie rebutted Trent’s rules. She gave him a smug smile he was annoyed at.

“Go on Ted!” You just spurred her on. Teddy squealed, hearing her name getting exciting. Her little hands grabbing eagerly at Trent’s face for a kiss. She had recently learned how to purse her lips, coming to understand that it would result in a kiss for her. She loved it. She loved the attention, she loved the sound, a giggle following every single one. Trent kissed her identical pout.

“Can mummy have one, please?” You asked her for a kiss, envious of the one she gave him. You squeezed her arm gently to grab her attention. You pushed your lips out towards her. “Mwah!” You made the sound she couldn’t get enough of. She laughed and wiggled trying to get to you. You dragged her off Trent’s chest into your own. She nuzzled her face into you comforted by every little thing. The way you smelt, the way your skin felt, your familiar heart beat. She calmed as you kissed her head. “My Teddy bear.” You squeezed her a little tighter to you. Trent pinched your arm to remind you of this moment that you definitely did know how to make her very happy.

“She’s happy right?” Speaking of a daughter's happiness, your mum asked your dad back at the house looking on, able to see your little family from afar as they sat by the pool.

“She’s never been better. He takes care of her.” Your dad reassured her watching you kiss Teddy laying on Trent.

“I’m surprised you took such a liking to him. If he wasn’t on the team you support would you’ve?” Your mum teasingly asked your dad. It was a joke but she was also a little curious as well for his answer.

“Don’t be silly, I genuinely think he’s a good kid. Good head on his shoulders, good family, good values.” You dad reaffirmed his stance that Trent was good for you. “Could be different though if he played in Manchester but...” Your mum ignored his dig at other teams, keeping her focus on you.

“They’re good with her.” Your mum admired you and Trent playing with Teddy. “I just want her to be happy. It felt like she never was when she was here.” She remembered life before you moved, before you met Trent.

“She was… she just needed to find her place. Her person. We all eventually find our way to them.” Your dad cooed, squeezing your mum’s hand from his lounge chair.

You came back to the house as the evening sun sank down. Winnie running with Teddy back to the house in a fit of giggles in her arms. You trailed slowly with Trent holding his hand inspecting his newly tanned golden skin. You shuffled up the steps and turned on a spout to wash the sand off your feet. Trent turned on the water inside of the outdoor shower next to it.

“C’mere” he dragged you in after him. “You look so good today.” He purred beneath your ear. His plump plush lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Yeah? I thought I caught you staring” you turned away from him pushing your ass against him. His hands drifting around you slowly one gradually come to paw at your boobs. You shut your eyes in pleasure. You rolled your head back onto his shoulder.

"Nah, me staring at you. Never." His dark, brown eyes bore up into your closed ones and you breathed in heavily feeling his hands glide over your skin. His free hand ran down your side sliding under the tie of your bikini on your hip. It was subtle yet it had your heart racing. Watching his fingers run over your body as the water cascaded down with them felt pornographic. He moved his hand from your tits up to cupped your jaw. He tilted your head awkwardly and harshly to look at him. It made you gasp a little as he pushed his hips into you further. You could feel his hardening cock. You flashed your eyes at him and it only got harder. Your lust filled gaze sent sinful thoughts barrelling through his mind.

“Y/N L/N! That boy is not your husband yet. I better not be seeing two sets of feet in that shower.” Your mum yelled out clocking that you two had come back to the house, were nowhere to be seen, and the shower was on with two familiar pairs of feet in it. All thoughts were halted the moment you both heard her voice.

“Sorry” you sheepishly apologized strangely embarrassed by her call out. You kissed his lips, peeling your body off his. Your mum was ‘old school’ in an ironic way. Like she picked and chose when she wanted to implement those values.

“Nah, I have you for the rest of my life. Not worried.” He whispered before one final kiss.

“Mum, they have a baby…” Winnie laughed carrying a pitcher of margaritas out onto the deck with one hand, Teddy in the other before passing her off to your dad.

“They can have 10 babies, Win. We still don’t want to know it’s happening” your dad chimed in situating Teddy on his knee as she smiled oblivious to the nature of the conversation about her parents. You timidly got out of the shower pulling Trent behind you. He held your hands behind your back and rested his head in between your shoulder blades childishly hiding from your parents. “Trent, my boy, I love you but keep your hands to yourself.” Your dad quipped and you wanted to die. Trent held his hands up in innocence taking a step away from you. It wasn’t the first time Trent had encountered a protective dad but it was different with you. He had good banter with your dad but really respected him and listened to what he was asking because he respected you. “I want that signed license before I’m holding another one of these.” He voiced in a serious manner asking for the marriage certificate before you had a second baby. You couldn’t quite tell if it was laced with any humor as you watched him kiss Teddy referring to her as ‘one of these’ loving every second of her. You grabbed Trents lips and pulled him into a kiss. Your hands cupped his cheeks. His lips were warm and soft. A shock of electricity ran through you being so bold to kiss Trent in front of your family. Your parents groaned. Trent held his hands up again not touching you reinforcing this wasn’t his move.

“Oh Y/N, really?” your mum quipped. Winnie booed. You giggled and shrugged then went to pick up your baby girl.

“You introduced me to him. Your own fault. ‘Oh you’d like him.” You mocked the words your dad once told you whilst watching a Liverpool match pointing out Trent to you on the TV.

“And I appreciate it.” Trent said, running a towel over his tanned skin. He dried himself off before he wrapped the semi damp towel around you and Teddy. Winnie took a photo of your bundled family engulfed in his arms and terry cloth on her film camera.

“Win, I want that one. Send me it when you develop them.” Trent asked after hearing the shutter go off. The sun went down, drinks were poured, and the fairy lights illuminated your dinner table. “They taste different here, swear.” Trent explained to Winnie that he genuinely believed burgers taste different in New York. She wasn’t sold on his rationale so they rambled on back and forth debating the unimportance. You caught Trent smiling at you though mid sentence as he watched you scarf down your food relieved you were eating. He winked at you and you had to put your head down you felt so flustered.

“Any plans about the wedding yet?” You mum asked eagerly. It was driving her nuts you hadn’t begun making any concrete plans.

“Think this morning we decided we should maybe do it here” you cooed to no one in particular at the table but then looked at Trent to confirm the decision. You mum sat up a bit straighter and began to rant to you about contacting all these events planners and contacts she had in the area.

You and Winnie exchanged your typical look, the one exchanged your whole life. The ‘mum is fucking nuts.’ one, you knew well. You wrapped up dinner and you put Teddy down for sleep. You were sitting on the couch watching a film with Winnie. You were cuddled up into Trent when you got distracted watching the veins of his hands move as he rubbed over your skin. Your heart started beating faster as you tried to reclaim your focus but you couldn't. He was the only thing on your mind now. He caught your quick side eyed glance towards him before you attempted to follow the movie again. With the hand he was stroking you with he squeezed you. It took you by surprise because he did nothing else, didn’t even acknowledge you or look but it set something off. You wanted him to pay attention to you. Sometimes with him you’d get a feeling like you were just meeting again. Like you wanted to impress him, get him to like you all over again, make him want you.

“Do you really have to leave tomorrow?”. You whispered in his ear before you dropped your head into the nape of his neck, your lips gliding down his neck.

“Mmmhmm” he hummed as he rolled his head to the side to give you more space to run your soft lips over. He closed his eyes, lost in the moment, losing all hope at following the plot of the movie anymore.

“Are you sure?” You gently pushed his t-shirt up with your palm and slid your hand across his abs. The feeling of your lips on his neck and your nails dragging across his skin dangerously close to the band of his shorts had his heart rate speeding up.

“I’m not so sure right now.” He quietly told you. He took control of the situation quickly just the way you wanted him to. He turned his whole body towards you completely ignoring the movie and the fact that your sister was about a yard away. “I’m not sure I can leave this mug of yours.” His eyes narrowed and scanned over your features. He flashed a devastating smile watching you trying to suppress the smirk blossoming on your face.

“Can you guys not… I get it, you're engaged. I am single.” Winnie stood up annoyed. You giggled hiding in Trent’s neck, embarrassed almost forgetting she was in the room.

“Oh, Win! I’m sorry! Finish the film with us” you called out to her as she stormed off in a huff before stopping in her tracks.

“No, no, I’ll leave you to it! Also,” she flashed her glare from you to Trent. His eyes widened, surprised she was mad at him and he was being included in the sisterly spat. “You give Lauren fucking Jude Bellingham… and me, nothing. Jude Bellingham.” she threw her hands at him.

“I don’t think I exactly gave Jude to her, did I?” he quipped back and she feigned a face as if she was less than impressed. She started to laugh though unable to hide a silly smile on her face trying to commit to her theatrics. This was quintessential Winnie. She thought this was very funny. Trent knew her well but not the way you did, of course. Not the years of her creating these situations out of thin air. For Winnie, taking a bit or a tease too far was a thrill. She loved to overreact just to grab people's attention only to drop it with a giggle. It was a bizarre yet endearing power trip.

“Winnie!” You yelped her name before falling into giggles yourself at how ridiculous her claim was, very aware this was one of her ‘performances.’

“There’s 26 players on a team and you’re on two! Club and Country” she gestured to two different spaces in front of her with her hands spelling it out for Trent. “I’m only asking for one man.” She rolled her eyes at the stunned look on his face. She walked out of the room.

“I can’t tell if she was serious or not… Am I meant to set her up?” He said to you louder than he thought he did. Winnie’s voice echoing a ‘yes’ that made its way back to the living room where you were as she made her way down the halls away from you.

“You asked if I had to leave…you gonna miss me, baby?” Trent asked, a few minutes later, gently grabbing your jaw. The way his eyes looked into yours made you feel special. Made you feel love and then lust.

“Yeah, T. WIll miss you and this cock” you boldly stated. Your words drenched in neediness as you leaned forward to slide your hand over the bulge that had been tenting in his shorts.

“Mmm yeah? Show me then” He instructed you and your eyes lit up with greed. This was a terrible idea. Your dad would murder both of you, your mum would have a heart attack, Winnie might vomit but he looked so good and you were going to miss him… and his cock… for the 5 days you were about to be apart.

“Can you be quiet for me, baby?” you asked with feigned innocence in your eyes as you lowered yourself toward his length.

“I’ll be good.” He stroked over your cheek as he watched you lick the tip of his cock. He let out a moan, feeling your tongue graze over the slit leaking pre cum. Your eyes widened looking up at him annoyed because he literally just said he’d be quiet.

“Sorry, sorry. Start again. I’ll be good. I promise.” He tried to convince you. You ran your hands up his strong thighs as you licked his length from base to tip, not totally convinced by his promise but you didn’t care now that you had a taste. Desperate for more of him. Desperate to make him feel good. “Such a pretty girl, yeah?" He praised you in a whisper as you flashed your glossy eyes up to him. All you wanted was for him to tell you how good you were for him. He breathed deeply watching you trying not to make a sound. He didn’t do a great job but at least his words of encouragement were whispered. “That’s so good, baby, fuck. Keep going.” he quietly groaned. He tucked wisps of your hair behind your ear stopping your constant need to move your hair away from your sticky lips. He threw his head back against the couch cushion in pleasure at your movements. He ran his hand over his hair. The air had gone thick in the room. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden for both of you for different reasons. “Baby” he grunted at a normal volume warning you he was going to cum. He unraveled quickly to your delight. You clasped your hands around the backs of his knees, slacking your jaw just that much more for him to take all of him sucking in your cheeks as he released.

“Good?” you giggled after you swallowed, pulling yourself up using his thighs. He nodded out of breath. Eyes closed and head resting back onto the couch coming back to reality slowly. You climbed up on him and straddled over him. You slid off your shorts and to Trent’s surprise you weren’t even in panties. He just blew air out of his mouth amazed by your figure over him. Your tiny white baby tee clearly worn without a bra, nipples very out, and your pussy on full display for him to admire.

"You wet for me?" He asked and you nodded. You got wet just sucking him off and he knew that. He ran his fingers through your slick folds.

“Tell me what you want me to do, T” you whined, getting desperate for more. He was teasing you, giving you enough to lose your composure but not getting close to your entrance or clit.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He demanded and you smirked and he began peppering kisses over your jawline. “and you’re gonna take my cum.” You aligned yourself with his already rehardened length. You sank down slowly not having his usual help preparing you for his size. You let out a whimper feeling the leaking tip of his cock burying himself inside your pussy. He began languid but purposeful thrusts up into you. He immediately felt you clench tigh around him as your jaw slacked and your brows pinched adjusting to his length. “So good f’me always.” he stoked your cheek with his thumb while his other hand held your helping you move on top of him.

“Please, T, I want to make you feel good. I want to be good for you.” Your words went straight to his cock. He smiled. Even in bed you were always well mannered. He loved when you begged for what you wanted. You liked T being in charge in the bedroom. You were politely submissive. You both were mindful you had to be quiet though so your words were hushed but they were potent. You both wanted to be good for the other. It was apparent with every deep upwards thrust of his and every merciless roll of your hips. It was all so needy and desperate.

“Oh fuck, baby. You make me feel so good. I want you to cum on my cock. I need to feel you.” He tried to whisper but his pleads were hard to keep in check with his shuddering breath as you were working on top of him. You both were climbing to your highs. “No one else will ever be able to fuck you ever again. No one else could ever fuck you the way I do.” He muttered into your neck trying to muffle his voice as he huffed.

“Nuh uh.” You moaned. You placed you mouth against him to quiet the volume of the sounds you wanted to make “Oh god, only you T. You forever. Only want you always.” Despite your dickmatized haze you genuinely meant that. You only wanted him to fuck you forever. Your thighs began to quiver.

“That’s right. Good girl. My girl.” He bit onto the most sensitive part of your neck he knew drove you crazy. “Absolutely no one else.” You picked up your pace even though your legs were aching, you wanted more of him. His breaths were hot against your skin, audible. You rode him for ages on the couch in pure euphoria. It must have been almost over any hour. You were surprised no one had come down stairs but were more relieved than anything else.

“I love you” you let out the most sinfully innocent moan in his ear. A sound he wanted to keep forever. His soul was completely in your grasp. The way you sounded and felt right now was his heaven. You pulled away and looked at him with twinkling eyes and he pushed up into hitting a spot so deep you had no other option to then fall into an earth shattering orgasm. Your face fell onto his shoulder biting him to not make a noise. He kissed your cheek repeatedly as he continuously thrusted into you as you attempted to move. White hot pleasure spread rapidly through your core. Seeing you cum always tipped Trent over the edge.

“I love you, baby. Gonna fucking cum inside my pussy, yeah? This pussy’s just f’me.” He confirmed his possessiveness over you and you loved it nodding eagerly. His drew his face into your neck and let out a strained moan as he thrusted up a few more times before he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back and closed. His cum leaking out of you more as you bounced on him a few more times helping him ride out his high, fucking his cum deep inside of you untill he was empty. You fell onto his chest heavily breathing tucking into his neck hugging him desperately.

“Let’s go to bed, hmm?” He asked quietly after you both had begun to calm. You pulled your head off him and looked at him so exhausted but with a glow he loved. You were the pretty girl who took everything he gave her just now but also the pretty girl he was unequivocally in love with

“I can’t feel my legs” you whined with a pout. You felt like you’d be given a lethal dose of euphoric pleasure.

“Oh, my poor baby.” he teasingly cooed, pressing his lips to yours gently. He picked you up sweetly and he wrapped your legs around his waist for you carefully as he carried you back to your bedroom.

Trent had to be at Liverpool’s team hotel tomorrow so he was out the door early. They had a game at MetLife stadium which is in New Jersey but it's for New York sports for context. It was kind of cool. Weird to be in an NFL stadium for football. It just gave off a different vibe. It didn’t feel right but it was more like exhibition games, upcoming season preparation.

“For youuu.” You cooed handing your dad the new LFC kit for the season as you got into his car. You were going to the game with your dad and Teddy. You had driven to the stadium with him from your beach house. Lauren and Winnie were also coming but they weren’t as fussed about the actual match. A lot of people you knew in Manhattan or just in the general TriState area were going to this match because it was an opportunity to see Premier League teams play and party. What was a little funny about it being in America though was that there were tailgates for the game, like it was a US college football game. Lauren and Winnie were within that group. People from college and friends you had from growing up all going together to get drunk. The football match was a second priority.

“You’ve got to come to more matches with me, dad.” You told him as you got to your seats just as the warm-ups for the game were beginning. You watched intently and more closely than most people do enjoying the sleeveless warm up gear Liverpool had on due to the summer heat. Trent looked particularly good, freshly tanned and toned.

“Gotta invite me.” Your dad cooed. “Isn’t that right Teddy girl? Don’t you want mummy to invite Pop Pop over to come see you?” He picked her up. She looked adorable in your opinion. She had on this season’s newest jersey freshly pressed with ‘daddy’ on the back. Bittersweetly for you, you had to get a bigger size now that she was getting older and growing. She had on white ruffled shorts and white adidas samba trainers that had red stripes. You sat through the match constantly having to point daddy out to Teddy. She was way more in tune with what was going on now. She could stand on her own for a few seconds before you’d have to help her. She could point and clap a little bit so games were all that much cuter now. As the end of the 90 minutes approached you got a notification your flight had been moved and you began to panic. You hated when plans shifted. Minor inconveniences really rattled you. The final whistle blew you were able to meet Trent but you were stressed and worried about finding a fix to your flight dilemma.

“My baby bear!!!! Did you have a fun time? Did you clap for dada with mama?” Trent asked, scooping Teddy out of your arms. You just smiled at them scrolling through your phone incessantly. “Hey… you alright, baby?” He looked at you and grabbed your chin with his free hand and lifted it up to make you look at him. He knew the face you gave him well. You were stressed. He knew your brain ran a million miles and hour. Very very different to his but he liked to help you, to help you settle it. “Baby.. take a deep breath for me. What’s going on?”

“Our flight got canceled or moved or I don't know and I have bad service and I need to make sure we get back because Teddy has her check up scheduled at the pediatrician and I already moved it once, and…” you babbled insistently.

“Baby….” Trent cut you off in a soothing voice. It felt like you were the only people in the room for a moment. His calming persona just wafted over you. You dropped your shoulders and took a deep breath in and exhaled it out your nose. Teddy tried to imitate the noises and breaths you took quite funnily. So both you and Trent laughed. “Good girl” Trent cooed to Teddy first. “Thank you.” He kissed your forehead and his hands that were resting on your hips crept up your torso raising the hem of your shirt slightly. “I will fix the flight for you. I’ll handle it, okay? You’ll make the appointment. It’s gonna be fine. Promise.” He kissed your lips this time. You you closed your eyes as your mind settled until you heard an ‘mawf” type noise from the cute little girl in Trent’s arm who was pursing her lips towards him waiting for her kiss from daddy.

You sat in a lounge type area after the game because Trent had a bit of free time and was allowed to come and hang out for a bit. So with him, your dad, Teddy, and a drunk Lauren and Winnie you all caught up.

“How’s Marce?” Lauren leaned forward inquiring about Trent’s brother. Winnie eyes widening with a smile knowing all the dirty details. You were close in age so you did a lot together but after you moved Winnie and Lauren met up more often just the two of them. You were happy they got closer but every Instagram story on a night out you couldn’t be at always made you a tinge jealous. If you and Lauren were trouble, her and Winnie were like hell on wheels. They were playing with fire anywhere they went.

“No, we’re not doing this again.” Trent responded, moving his gaze off of you and Teddy momentarily to look at her. Trent loved Lauren and just was joking but definitely didn’t want things to go any further than they had in the Marcel, Jude, Lauren triangle from Greece.

“Laurennnn” You palmed your forehead. “Laur is silly, huh?” you cooed in a baby voice to Teddy. It was a habit. It just happened, it was your life 24/7. You were a mum. Trent hummed concurring with you wiping his thumb over Teddy’s lips.

“No. Laur is not silly, Teddy girl.” She addressed Teddy but threw a glare at you then flicked her eyes back at Trent. “I asked how your brother is… is that suddenly a big deal?” She quipped back knowing very well her sentiment in asking was laced with a million different innuendos.

“It is when you kiss and tell, Lauren.” Your dad chimed in from his seat further down the table you were sitting at. You laughed hiding in Trent’s neck not knowing he had been listening to the whole conversation. Laurent rolled her eyes at your dad playfully.

“Lauren, you can’t just get with all of the men we have on deck.” Winnie looked at her with glossed eyes, still fairly drunk. “I mean, it’s not like T is helping me with who he has on any roster but…” she quipped with a laugh.

“Men on deck? Roster? Win… They are people and my friends. I'd like to keep my relationships with them and with you two if you don’t mind. Lauren already made her bed.” He rambled back at her with a smile teasing them both but also attempting to justify why he hadn’t set her up.

“They were good in bed though” Lauren chimed in. Trent made a face like he was gonna be sick.

“Ignoring that.” he looked at Lauren then back to Winnie. “Besides, I’m not just going to parade around every dressing room I’m in ‘Lads, anyone want my fiance's sister?’ Am I?”

“Well, you should. What picture do you show when people ask what I look like?” Winnie leaned forward asking both you and Trent.

“Teddy, please ignore everything that is coming out of the left side of the table’s mouth please.” Your dad piped up again. The chaotic conversation continued and definitely didn't get any better when Dom came over to grab Trent to leave. Winnie practically drooling. You said goodbye to Trent with a crying Teddy and it broke your heart. It was always the worst. She’d be okay but she also didn’t understand why daddy had to leave. Trent was knee deep in the few more days of preseason but did fix your flight issues the night after that match. You had to get back to your house, your dogs, your life, and your appointment for Teddy. You flew home with her and way too many bags you assured Trent you could handle but regretted it now. Thankfully you had some help from airport staff but it was still exhausting. You needed to sleep on the flight but had to wait till Teddy was out and even then you could only lightly sleep in case she needed something. You held her against your chest and she was good. You felt like she was getting alot more attached to you. Like something clicked, she felt like you were her home and being attached to you was the safest and comfiest place she could be. Even though she weighed a little more now and it was hard having someone glued to you all the time, it was a nice rewarding feeling.

You stood waiting for your Uber outside of arrivals at the Manchester airport with Teddy and the too many bags you promised you could carry. One of your suitcases tipped over as you attempted to wrangle them all.

“Uh Oh!” you cooed to Teddy making a surprised ‘o’ shape with your mouth and she lit up. She attempted to imitate you. It wasn’t great but it was cute nevertheless. “Yeah, Uh Oh! Teddy” You said once more but in your head you were actually saying ‘shit, shit, shit.’ You leaned over with teddy in your arms and saw a masculine hand grabbing the handle of the luggage before you could. He picked it up and you stood up straight again and looked at him.

“Oh wow… Thank you” You said inspecting a oddly familiar looking face. He was an older man but well kempt, dressed really nicely too.

“Not a problem. Visiting for long?” He asked politely clocking your American accent and what felt like 100 pieces of luggage around you.

“I guess you could say that, I visited a couple years ago… never left though” you candidly explained with a smile. You readjusted your hold of Teddy. You were focused on her but you could feel his eyes examining you.

“Have we met before?” He cooed, taking a closer look at Teddy and then you. Recognizing both faces in different ways almost perplexing him more.

“Hmmm” You thought for a moment. “You know what? Yeah, I think we have. I met you at the end of Liverpool’s last season a few months ago. My fiance introduced us. I believe you know him.” You responded recognizing that you had met this man at the party the club had thrown directly after the final match.

“I knew that face looked familiar. An Alexander-Arnold a mile away.” He cooed. He was talking about Teddy, of course. You hummed politely. “I’d love to talk to you sometime…” He continued talking. You paused a little confused what he was asking so you waited for him to say more. “ I am a lifelong fan of the club but I really work for Condé Nast and I’ve been wanting to do something to better understand the inside. What makes them tick?” He explained but it didn’t really give you any clearer idea of what he meant.

“Makes them tick?” you asked him, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening, while watching your baby, whilst looking for your Uber. You were slightly overstimulated but you were listening best you could.

“Your fiance. How do you make it work? It’s a weird dynamic I imagine. You make their world go round but you have your own life, your own interests. You're not out on pitch on match day. They come home to you, a valuable human, so who are you? I want to know about you." It was strange to hear someone speak about a relationship he didn't know anything about so honestly and almost insightfully like he already knew.

“You said Condé?” You asked just trying to organize this whole thing. You had worked with some of their publications before you moved and dabbled a little here and there after you did but not much anymore. You knew enough about the company though.

“Mostly GQ and Vanity Fair. In fact, that's where I met Trent first. I heard he was coming in for a shoot when a kind editor tipped me off that a footballer from my beloved club was coming in.” He spoke like such an old man, he had grandfather vibes in the best way. It felt like you were talking to stylish Santa in a hilariously endearing way.

“Oh, amazing. Well, I don’t know. I’ve never done any sort of official interview or thing in the public” you babbled starting to feel awkward. This was really uncharted territory. He gave you his card. You inspected it closely. God, this could all be some sort of ruse but it seemed legit as you read it time and time over again. ‘Bentley Brown’

“If you’d ever want to, I’d love to meet you again sometime for a tea or a pint and tell you more about what I think we could do.” You just nodded. “Lovely to meet you both. Best of luck with the season.” You stared at the business card for days after on your dresser in your bedroom. You’d never thought about people wanting to interview you. You’d had a career before and you had an instagram following now but that wasn’t anything official or noteworthy worth being published in print.

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Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 13 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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queenshelby · 5 months ago

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 61)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

After the initial shock of the night, Mara had recovered quickly and, about ten days after the incident, you found yourself packing some bags to take Mara onto her first trip since you separated from Cillian.

You were going to visit him after all, in Liverpool, for an entire week while he was filming so that he could spend some time with Mara.

The idea was for you to stay in a separate unit with Mara, inside the apartment/hotel building rented out for the cast and crew and seeing that Cillian was an executive producer on the movie, he did not need approval for this.

"Nappies, check," you murmured under your breath as you walked through your house, making sure you had everything you needed for the trip. "Wipes, check," you muttered again, ticking off the items in your head.

"Toys, change of clothes... I think that's everything," you said to no one in particular before making your way back to Mara who was playing quietly on the floor while your best friend Emma roamed through your closet.

"How about this? Or that? Or maybe both?" Emma suggested, holding up a silky black blouse and a pair of distressed jeans.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Em, I am not going out to party while I am away. I am going there so that Mara can see her dad and spend some time with him," you said, shaking your head as you turned to face her.

Emma held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish look on her face. "Okay, okay. I got it. No partying. Just quality time with your baby daddy and Mara. Got it," she said, smiling brightly before pulling out some lingerie.

"How about this then?" Emma suggested, holding up a lacy bra and panty set. "I mean, it's still part of quality time with your baby daddy, right?" she winked at you playfully.

"Oh god, no! I am not going down that route again, Em! Cill and I are in a good place right now I think, and I am not planning on rocking the boat just because I want to get laid," you said , turning your nose up at the lingerie.

Emma raised her eyebrows at you, completely taken aback by your response. "Alright then, okay. No funny business while you're away," she said, trying not to laugh while you quickly disappeared into the bathroom to pack your toiletries and escape the conversation.

Just as you were in the bathroom however, Emma grabbed the lingerie and shuffed it into the suitcase, right beneath one of your favorite jumpers, just in case you changed your mind. "Okay, I think that's everything now. Thanks for helping me Emma," you called out, emerging from the bathroom and taking one more look through the room. Mara was still quietly playing on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the chaos around her.

"It's no problem, happy to help. Plus, it's not like I have anything else to do today. I am sick of my folks after moving back in with them. They have been a nightmare to deal with," Emma continued. Her words echoed off the walls of the bedroom, a testament to the pent-up frustration simmering beneath her surface.

"Are they still fighting?" you asked with some concern, seeing how her parents have had a troubled relationship with each other.

" I wish I could say no, but unfortunately, yes. The same old arguments about my dad not being present enough for them or about his drinking sometimes. It's like a broken record. I really wish something would change," Emma admitted, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration.

"I know this might not be of much help long term, but you could stay here if you like, especially while I am away, and even after I come back, if you don't mind some sleepless nights of course," you offered, hoping that this might alleviate some of the stress that Emma was dealing with.

Emma's eyes lit up at the offer, but then they clouded with guilt. "I can't impose on you like that, Y/N. You have Mara to take care of now and having me stay here would only make things more complicated. I don't want to intrude," she said, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"You wouldn't be intruding at all," you assured her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I insist. It would be great to have some company, and you wouldn't have to deal with your parents' arguments all the time. Plus, I know how much you love Mara and me of course," you winked and Emma hesitated, looking conflicted for a moment before ultimately giving in to the idea. "Alright, I'll take you up on the offer," she said, finally relenting. "But I'll contribute in any way I can.

I'll help with the groceries, or cook dinner, or even babysit Mara so you can go out and have some time for yourself," Emma offered, a sincere expression on her face and, with that, you found yourself a temporary roommate.

***

The following day, your new roommate even drove you and Mara to the airport

, This was the first time you were flying alone with Mara, even if it was only for a short trip. As the plane took off and you felt the familiar sensation of weightlessness, Mara gripped your hand tightly, a nervous grin on her face. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a wave of protectiveness and love wash over you.

Cillian was waiting for you at the arrivals gate, a huge grin on his face when you emerged, bundled up against the cold Liverpool air. He had managed to take half the day off, rescheduling some of his scenes to another day, which was something that wasn't easy to do.

"Hey there, munchkin," he said, kneeling down to Mara's level and giving her a gentle hug. Mara giggled and wriggled, calling out 'dada', in her stroller, clearly thrilled to see her dad.

"Hey," you responded, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. You weren't sure why - you and Cillian had been on good terms now. But something about the way he was looking at you, with those intense blue eyes and that little crooked smile, made your heart skip a beat. Or maybe it was the haircut which, to you, looked fabulous on him.

"Hey you," he responded, his voice soft and gentle, before giving you a hug as well. "Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it," he smiled at you, his hand lingering on the small of your back as he guided you towards the carousel to pick up your luggage. The gesture was comforting and familiar, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you as you realized how much you had missed Cillian's presence in your life with all that chaos between you and him having been away filming.

As you navigated through the bustling airport, you couldn't help but notice how many people were staring at Cillian. It wasn't surprising, of course - he was incredibly attractive, with his Tommy haircut and chiseled jawline. Plus, he was rather famous obviously, which made you feel a little more self-conscious than usual.

"So, where to first? The hotel or the park with Mara?" Cillian asked as you made your way towards the baggage claim, Mara babbling happily in her stroller.

"Why don't we head to the hotel first and then go from there? That way Mara can take a little nap," you suggested, giving him a grateful smile.

Cillian nodded in agreement, "That sounds like a good idea, although I don't think the unit will be ready until 3 o'clock," he mentioned before grabbing two of the bags and leading the way out of the airport and towards the taxi stand.

"That's fine, she can have a snooze on your bed. We just need to watch her," you told him as you settled into the taxi, buckling Mara in beside you.

"I suppose that will work," he said before giving Mara a kiss on her forehead. In that moment, you felt a surge of profound emotion, a warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness and contentment mixed with a dash of anxiety and uncertainty. You didn't know how this reunion with Cillian would play out, but you hoped that you could put aside your differences and make the most of the time you had together, again, for Mara's sake.

After the taxi dropped you off at the hotel and apartment building, Cillian led the way to the reception desk, where he enquired about the unit for you and, much to his surprise, the receptionist had some bad news.

"Uhm, I am so sorry Mr Murphy, but I actually left a message for you an hour ago as it appears that we are overbooked due to the change in schedule on BBC's other studio show," she said apologetically.

"What do you mean you're overbooked? I booked this apartment last week and you confirmed the availability," Cillian replied, clearly annoyed at the news, but remaining polite.

"I understand, and I apologize, but it appears that we had an internal mix-up and double-booked the apartment," she explained.

Cillian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "What are our options?"

"Well, we do have a few other apartments available at our other hotels, on Banks Street and Maitland Road, but it's about half an hour from here," the receptionist said, looking uncomfortable at the prospect of disappointing Cillian.

Cillian looked at you, annoyed but also resigned, but you immediately shook your head.

"No, that would mean less time for Mara with you. It's totally impractical," you told him, seeing how his filming schedule was going to be so busy and neither him nor Mara should be thrown out of their schedules in order to travel this distance every day.

"Can't you put an extra bed into his apartment? I am happy to sleep in the living room with Mara," you suggested to the receptionist, but Cillian shook his head.

"Well, let's check it out and see if we can come up with an idea, okay? It will be fine," you told Cillian, trying to reassure him with a soft smile and, sure enough, you came up with a solution after Cillian took you to his floor.

His apartment was small, but the couch was reasonably sized, so your idea was an obvious one.

"Well, Mara can sleep in a cot in the living room with me and I will sleep on the couch. Easy," you told Cillian, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal.

Cillian's jaw clenched for a moment and his eyes narrowed, "You're not sleeping on the couch, Y/N. I can."

You shook your head, "No, you're filming until late every night, you need your sleep. Despite, I don't mind. I have nowhere else to be during the day so I can catch up on any sleep I might be missing out on, and it will be a great week for Mara, seeing you every day," you smiled at him, but he shook his head again.

"No, how about we put a cot on the bedroom, and you sleep in the bed instead. I will take the couch. I insist," Cillian said, leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, knowing that it was futile to argue with him. Cillian could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be, and this was one of those times. "Okay, fine. We'll put a cot in the bedroom then," you confirmed, and he quickly made the call to reception.

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trentslocss · 1 year ago

Text

Happy as ever - TAA

Pairing: pregnant! reader x Trent Alexander Arnold

Warnings: none. just fluff

A/N: this is my first work on tumblr. hope you like it!

P.S. I know the dates don’t really match from finding out to giving birth but hypothetically it is possible so just ignore that and enjoy the show.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas was your favorite holiday. You weren’t a really festive person, but there was just something different about christmas. Especially since you’ve been living with Trent.

The two of you have been married for almost a year now, and this would be your first Christmas as a married couple. This made the holiday even more special for the two of you. You’ve lived together before, but now you have a house you’ve bought together and decorated it from scratch (something you had enjoyed doing, unlike Trent). Of course, this helped make the Christmas in your house as magical as you’ve always dreamed of.

It was the 23rd of December. Trent was currently at Anfield, preparing for the game of the season against Arsenal, the title race at it’s finest. Now, as a loving wife you would usually be at the stadium, but you were feeling rather unwell and decided to watch it at home.

Whilst adding the finishing touches to the decorations in your home in your Alexander-Arnold jersey, you kept looking at the time, making sure not to miss the start of the match. When you were finished with adding the lights to your kitchen cabinets, you jumped on your massive couch and turned the tv on. You suddenly felt like you were going to be sick.

—————————————————————

You were walking up to your driveway. Nervous, shaking like hell. Your keys kept falling out of your hands. The match was probably finished, you wouldn’t know because instead of watching it you were running to the closest pharmacy.

Throwing your purse to the floor, jacket on the couch, shoes scattered one after the other on the carpet, you ran to the bathroom upstairs.

“Come on already” you said to the stick in your hand as you kept shaking your knees. You heard the all to familiar beep of your husband’s car. “Shit”

You could hear the front door being harassed by your lover. Out of fear you threw the stick somewhere in the bathroom and flew out the door and downstairs. “Hey baby” “I don’t deserve any pet names, if I gave that goal I would, but I didn’t” he said with a pout on his face while harassing your fridge now, pulling out a carton of milk and drinking from it. You would normally yell at him about it but you were too stressed to do it.

“Oh baby, don’t do that to yourself” you said while walking to him and engulfing him in a huge hug. “We should have won” his voice was muffled by your shoulder which made you giggle. “Come on, leave the milk. Let’s go to bed”

—————————————————————

Having to console Trent made you forget all about the pregnancy test. You have woken up in the middle of the night, seeing the plus sign.

You were pregnant.

—————————————————————

It was the 25th of December. Christmas. Your and your husband’s favorite holiday.

Now, you usually had a “no presents” rule, but this year you were giving him the present of his life.

You wrapped the box with a red liverpool wrapping paper and a cute bow on top. Going down the stairs from your shared bedroom, you found Trent getting ready for you both to go to his parent’s house. “You ready- Hey, what’s that” he said while tying his shoe laces. “It’s for you, merry christmas” You handed him the box, he took it and felt the bow through his fingers. “I thought we said no presents” He looked up from the present to you, with a small pout on his face. “We did, but this one is different. Open it!”

He carefully untied the bow and the wrapping paper. He opened the box, and groaned when it was filled to the top with red paper. He looked at you and playfully rolled his eyes, knowing it was your way of stalling and building up the anticipation. He cleared through the paper and found a small Liverpool jersey with his number and last name, including the small shorts. “What is this?” He asked, kind of confused. “Look in the pocket of the shorts”

He skeptically put his hand in the pocket and pulled out the positive pregnancy test. “You’re joking baby aren’t you” “No, you’re gonna be a father”

—————————————————————

It was the 6th of October. Trent was playing a game against Manchester United at home. You were way past your due date, so you were stuck eating spicy food while watching the game on tv, praying to the lord the thing would come out of you already. Trent’s brothers were keeping you company by his demand, he didn’t want you to be alone if anything happened.

Liverpool have taken over the lead with Trent’s goal. You jumped up from the sofa, the three of you hugging and screaming, too happy to notice that your water broke.

“Umm, we gotta get you to the hospital” Marcel spoke as you looked down the ground, swallowing hard.

It was 11:30 pm when Trent ran into the hospital, you were close to being ready to give birth. “I fucking hate him. He made me like this and now it’s taking him forever to come? Wasn’t like that when he gave me this thing” You screamed to your doctor, your sarcasm amusing her until you shot her a death glance.

Trent barged into your room, completely out of breath. “Baby I’m so sorry I couldn’t start my car and then Virg was about to give me a ride and then I had to explain to everyone why I couldn’t take the bus with them and then-“ “Trent John Alexander Arnold if you don’t shut up I swear to god I’ll find a way for you to give birth to this baby” He was a bit afraid of you, so he did shut up and took your hand, staying by your side.

“You’re 10 cm wide, we can get started” said the doctor. You looked at Trent who gave you a quick smile and a peck to your cheek, mouthing that you can do it.

After an hour and a half your beautiful baby daughter was born and you could hear her cries. When she was handed to you, the both of you started crying.

After they examined her she was back in your arms, Trent seated next to you, both of you out of words. “Have you chosen a name yet?” “Tina”

“Okay” said the doctor to the nurse. “Tina Alexander Arnold. Born on the 7th of October 2024, 1:45 am”

The two of you looked at each other, neither of you have noticed that it was past midnight and it was Trent’s birthday.

“Happy birthday pretty boy” You said as you handed to him his daughter, the best present in the world.

#liverpool #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x you #trent alexander imagines #trent aa #taa66 #taa #football imagine #football #lfc players #lfc #premier league #dominik szoboszlai #jude bellingham

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago

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Ancient humans were building large wooden structures – possibly houses – almost half a million years ago. The discovery, the earliest evidence of wooden construction, suggests that some ancient communities were far less nomadic than we have assumed. “These people were behaving in ways I hadn’t expected,” says Larry Barham at the University of Liverpool, UK. “It’s a disruptive discovery.” Barham and his colleagues uncovered the evidence at Kalambo Falls, an archaeological site in Zambia. In 2019, they spent a month excavating a sandbar some 300 metres upstream of the falls. One of the first artefacts they found was a wooden tool, probably a digging stick. “The number of sites where wood is preserved is small,” says researcher Geoff Duller at Aberystwyth University, UK. As they continued to dig, they made another discovery: a 1.4-metre-long log overlying an even larger log that was too big to fully excavate during their month-long project. They saw that the overlying log had been worked with tools to fashion a deep notch midway along its length. This allowed it to interlock with the underlying log at a 75-degree angle, creating a relatively sturdy joint. The researchers speculate that the two interlocking logs were once part of a larger wooden structure. Duller then dated the artefacts using a technique called post-infrared infrared stimulated luminescence. This involves measuring the time since the mineral grains in the sand that surrounded the wood were last exposed to light prior to their burial. The mineral grains – and the artefacts they surround – were buried about 476,000 years ago, which implies that the wooden structure was built before our species evolved. The engineers therefore belonged to an earlier human species, possibly Homo heidelbergensis.

#prehistory #wood #Stone Age #archaeology

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lover-222 · 1 year ago

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Angel Baby (D.S)

warning: smut 18+

...

it was known that dominik was a playboy, liverpool's finest man on the field loved having different girls on him. he was one of liverpool's best players right now. the hungarian man loved partying and living the football dream. he was a heartbreaker, he loved how women desired him. today was nothing different.

liverpool had just won their last game of the season, and the boys were going to celebrate just how they always did.

"you ready for today dom?, i wonder who'll be your next victim" trent chuckled as he looked at his teammate.

dom wore an all black outfit with his silver chain and a diamond bracelet. he made a simple outfit look extravagant. he put on lotion, styled his brown hair, and sprayed some of his favorite cologne.

the club they frequently went to was busy. the flickering colored lights danced all over the building, the dance floor was filled with many couples dancing. the alcoholic beverages were being served to many different tables.

dominik talked and laughed with his teammates slowly but surely getting tipsy. the boys one by one started leaving the table to go dance and talk to pretty girls. trent and dominik were the only ones left.

that was until he spotted her, she looked angelic. she wore a tight white dress, her long black hair was waist level. she was there with another friend who had caught trent's attention.

the boys went up to them and offered them a drink. the couples separated into other tables just to be more comfortable with their dates.

"you're very beautiful i just had to talk to you, i'm domi-" he was cut off by the pretty girl.

"i know exactly who you are, dominik szoboszlai" she smiled.

she was innocent, sweet, and delicate. nothing like he's ever had before. all the girls he would fuck were all over him, she was different. y/n wanted him even if it was just for the night. she didn't want to look desperate but one night with dominik szoboszlai would be amazing.

the drinks were coming and coming, the alcohol burned her throat. although by the fifth shot it felt like they were drinking water. the tension started to rise, they couldn't help it.

they ended up at dominik's house, she knew how he was. he didn't want commitment or something stable, he just wanted a good time.

the couple was inside of the house, neither of them disconnected from the heated kiss. dom kissed and sucked on her exposed neck, leaving hickeys on her skin. she felt pure bliss, his lips felt so good on her skin.

he lead her upstairs to his room, he was eager. he needed her badly. dominik laid her gracefully on his bed, she looked truly angelic as she laid on top of his white sheets. he got on top of her, not doing anything yet. he just looked at her facial features, admiring every detail of her frame.

"i just wanted to let you know that i don't want a relationship or any commitment since of football-" he stated.

"i know, i just want to be one of your girls tonight dom. so is liverpool's best man going to fuck me or not?" she said seductively.

he had pure lust in his eyes, his brown eyes turned into a darker shade and were blown out. dominik took off her dress, leaving her in her matching lacy set.

dominik thought he had died and gone to heaven. her matching white lacy bra and underwear were making him hard by every second.

"not fair you still have your clothes on" she said and sat up properly.

he laughed at her, y/n's hands traveled to the hem of his black shirt tucking on it. as soon as she took it off she kissed his muscular chest, while her hands explored his abs. she saw more of his tattoos that were scattered all over both of his arms.

they were perfectly detailed and the shading gave them more depth. the way each design wrapped around and covered his arms made her wet. the thought of being manhandled by him made her dizzy.

dom kissed her tan body, gently unclasping her white lacy bra. she looked ethereal, a true angel was laying down right in front of him. the lust and sexual tension filled the room, and the heated make out session didn't stop. not until he pulled down her panties, and she reached out for his boxers.

"no angel you first i want to see how much of a good girl you are" he smirked as he planted kisses on her stomach.

he kissed her thighs, she was melting from his touch. the combination of his lips on her and his manly scent was intoxicating but in the best way possible. he wrapped his hands around her soft thighs to keep her from moving. as he kissed her thighs, she'd sigh in pleasure. his beard would rub against her flesh making her squirm.

dom licked her inner folds, he gently sucked and licked every part of her sex. she couldn't stop moaning his name. he was so good at what he was doing, his tongue felt like pure bliss against her core.

"god i don't think i'll last very long" she said following up with a moan.

it was heaven for dominik, her angelic voice saying dirty things made him smirk.

"god's not here baby, it's just me" he replied as he pulled her into him and harshly sucked on her clit.

her mouth made an o-shape, y/n grasped a handful of his hair making him groan. she had felt the vibration right in her core, there was no way she could hold her orgasm in. his tongue circled around her clit making her pulsate against him.

she was so wet against him, although she was getting frustrated because he wouldn't let her cum. to the point where she started riding his face, which he quickly made her stop and pulled away.

"no what are you doing my love?" he asked playfully, knowing exactly what she wanted.

she would do anything to reach her orgasm, she craved him so badly.

he had a playful yet sinful smile, "i want to be inside you when you cum".

he teased her entrance with his cock, moving it gently up and down. he was a good size, way bigger than her ex boyfriend. she felt him deep inside of her, every thrust was pleasurebale. the couple moaned loudly, his thrusts were fast and then slow. he would thrust into her at a fast pace, then would slow down, teasing her.

"fuck dom please i'm so close" she whined, tears building up making her eyes water.

"such a pretty angel begging me to let her cum, are you really going to cry?" he teased her as he grabbed her face with his hand gently squeeze her cheeks, yet not stopping his rhythm.

tears ran down her face, the pleasure was too much to handle. she would bite her lip to stop herself from cumming. she'd bit to hard and was now bleeding a bit, the metallic taste wondered her mouth.

he was reaching his high, his thrust became faster and more precise. his chain dangled from his neck, she hooked her pointer finger on the chain making him come closer to her. their lips crashed against each other, he tasted like mint. he was hitting her g-spot in every thrust which made her claw his back.

"you feel so fucking good, i'm going to cum" he said as his thrust became sloppy.

"me too, fuck i can't hold it anymore" she moaned out.

"cum with me angel" he said as he quickened up his pace.

his cock thrusted deep into her, making her shiver. she felt on top of the world, her orgasm building up in her core. he kissed her hashly, then swiftly put her on top making her ride him.

she moved desperately on his thick cock, nothing stopped her from riding him. it felt incredibly good. her perfect body was on display just for him, he held on to her waist. he followed her rhythm and would thrust into her occasionally. y/n looked down at him, he was a mess under her.

his hair was a mess, and his cheeks were scarlet red. even with his hair all over the place, he looked fucking beautiful. he looked like he was sculpted by greek gods, every single one of his curves were perfectly defined.

dom thought she was angelic, her doe like eyes attracted him. she was a sweet angel, her lips tasted like cherries. her dainty hands would messily pick up her hair, although her head tilted back due to her pleasure.

he snaked his hand up her chest and rested it on her neck. she loved it, he maintained a firm grasp around her. she felt euphoric, she held on to his arm as she felt her orgasm building up.

"i'm close angel" he told her as he thrusted into her yet again but deeper.

her eyebrows scrunched up, "me too fuck dom please".

the sensation built up as he thrusted into her, she managed to reach down and circled around her clit fast. dom quickly replaced her hand with his. his fingers played with her clit moving his digits fast around it.

finally reaching their climax, he whined and grunted while thrusting into her one last time. she moaned loudly and shuddered while she laid on top of him.

"fuck you're so good" she sighed as she breathed heavily.

"me? angel you were perfect. see you can be a good girl" he said while he smirked at her.

he pulled out and laid her next to him, dom got up and went to grab a warm cloth. he helped her get cleaned up and got back into bed.

the brunette boy caressed her face and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"i think i want to see you again angel" he said softly.

"am i going to be dominik szoboszlai's fuck buddy?" y/n replied playfully.

"i mean if you want, but i mean more like maybe go on a date with me?" he asked her, his puppy dog eyes glistened.

"i'd love that" she smiled, dom excitingly kissed her and wrapped his tattooed arms around her. she felt safe in his strong embrace. maybe she's the one that takes him out of the playboy lifestyle.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── a/n: i took like three days writing this and i'm not even sure if i like it lmaoooo

give me feedback plss anyways i hope y'all enjoyed it!!

d<3

#dominik szoboszlai #szoboszlai #dominic szoboszlai oneshot #football imagine #football oneshot #liverpool fc #dominik szoboszlai x y/n #dominik szoboszlai fanfic #dominik szoboszlai smut #football smut

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spirkkock · 2 months ago

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A (NSFW) Modern AU where Nedward and Jopson are a cute little married (?) couple getting their house restored and Tozer is a thirsty contractor who gets swept up into a steamy throuple??? Hello??? can anyone hear me?????

Ned and Tom inherited a Georgian or Victorian home from Edward's grandmother or something, but it needs serious work, like needs to be taken back to the studs (or the Victorian equivalent) almost. And Sol comes in to rewire the ancient (fire hazard) electrical.

Down-on-his-luck Sol (having recently lost his job with a construction company) and knows way more about building than just being an electrician is like... hey.... you know they ran all this plumbing wrong here and you can easily salvage the shaker wall paneling in this room instead of tearing it out.

So Ned and Tom are like.... yes? tell us more? so Tozer is just kind of like "well I've got a guy (Morfin) who can run this plumbing again for a really reasonable price, and frankly I could do a better job of retiling this kitchen, and I know a guy (Bridgens) who is really into restoring old Victorian toilets and bathtubs if you need one. Oh by the way - these plaster and lath walls on the first floor don't even need to be removed, I could install some picture rails here so you don't damage the plaster when you hang stuff on the walls."

so they fire the shitty company they had before and put all of their faith in Sol and his mismatched team of contractor friends.

and it's a miracle for Sol because he's had a really unstable couple of months, what with losing his job and then getting booted out of a horribly fucked up polycule and losing his housing stability to boot. So he throws himself into this job which is so much better than just working as just an electrician.

And pretty soon the house becomes (sorta) livable, so Tom and Ned move in while he's still working on it - and then shit hits the fan.

Mostly because Tom works from home and likes to watch Sol with his unnerving blue eyes and walk around in shorts that are, frankly, obscene while also (not-so) subtly bending over to put paint swatches on the wainscoting or whatever. And whenever Ned is there (Saturdays) he's always trying to be helpful but doing a miserable job of it and then moping around with his big sad eyes and his fuck-me lashes while Sol does the heavy lifting.

And this is a Big Job, and a long one, so it's months and months of this, until eventually Ned and Tom are asking Sol to stay for dinner or join them to watch the game against liverpool or whatever - and they're both driving Sol up the wall because he's so horny for both of them he could die but they're MARRIED.

and then one horribly hot day (when Sol is working on re-installing the newly restored windows on the second floor so that the central AC the HVAC guy (Peglar) put in can actually start getting used) and he's stripped out of his shirt and is sweating obscenely - Tom brings him up a sandwich and some cold water and nearly drops the plate when he sees Sol glistening and flexing like that. And it obviously results in Tom on his knees (don't worry, he's using Sol's kneeling mat to protect his lovely delicate knees from the unfinished floor) giving Sol the sloppiest, filthiest blowjob of his life and it melts Sol's damn MIND.

Only this is a huge problem because now all the sudden he's fucking Tom half the time instead of working, and he can't look at Ned in the eye because, Christ, he's been banging this guy's husband in nearly every room in their house. And now Sol is a nervous wreck because Ned is always trying to coax him into staying for a beer or some takeout. And Sol isn't even picking up on the way Ned's hands linger when he claps him on the shoulder or the long knowing looks between Tom and Ned whenever Sol goes red and looks away from Tom's ass or that pale sliver of skin where his shirt rides up.

Sol is totally going to lose this job and never be able to use them as a reference.

Until one Saturday Tom corners Sol in the upstairs bathroom while hes installing the beautiful clawfoot tub and crowds him up against the recently restored sink to shove his hand down Sol's pants. And Sol is like, "Wait-please-Tom-don't --- ohhhh god - Ned is -fuuuuuck - NED is DOWNSTAIRS" but of course Tom just cuts him off with a vicious kiss and keeps stroking him off.

And the stairs creak - which mean's Ned is coming up but Sol can barely register it because Tom's hand feels so good and his lips are so hot and demanding. But then Tom pulls away and Sol makes eye contact with Ned over his shoulder and - oh fuck - he's cumming so hard into Tom's palm that it nearly makes his knees give out.

And there's a long moment of horrified silence where Sol is frozen, cum cooling on his stomach, Tom's hand still around his prick, and Nedward is looking at him with wide dark eyes and his stupid pouty mouth open in shock. And Sol is white knuckling the sink so hard he thinks he might rip it right out and ruin all the beautiful work he's done. This is it - he's cooked - this whole thing is crashing down around his head now, while his cock is out and the tub isn't even all the way installed.

But then Ned's pink tongue is darting out to wet his lips he palms himself with one of his big hands and his voice is low and gravely and totally filthy as he says, "Christ, Sol - you two look just as hot as I imagined."

And Tom is leaning in and snickering against his throat, and Sol doesn't know if his brain is just fully been scrambled but he doesn't understand what is happening at all. But then Tom is kissing him, and when he comes up for air there's a second pair of lips there to meet him, and it takes him a moment to realize that they're Ned's. And fuck his kiss is so hot and wet and Sol is moaning.

Needless to say he's a wreck of a man and so confused to find out that Ned has known all along that Sol and Tom were fucking - duh - there was a coordinated effort to try and get him into their bed, but that Ned was convinced Sol wasn't interested so he had backed off and just been satisfied hearing about it second-hand from Tom.

So Sol gets to have hot threesomes with two beautiful men all the time now as he finishes up the house and he takes some convincing but eventually Ned and Tom get him to agree to move into one of the spare rooms (although their bed is big enough for all three of them so it rarely gets used, actually)

and maybe Ned uses a little bit of that inheritance to loan Sol and friends what they need to start an honest-to-god historical restoration contracting company.

NOW EXPANDED: [[PART 2]]

#joplitzer #joplittle #little/tozer #jopzer #tragic that ned/sol doesn't have a good ship name #jopson/little/tozer #working man solomon tozer #solomon tozer #thomas jopson #edward little #is this anything #this grouping is like all i can think about tbh #the terror #victorian house au

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leiflitter · 1 year ago

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Hello from Blighty thoughts about Saltburn

As a continuation from my reply to @armands-eyefuckery because BRAIN

Aight gang let's have a lil sit down because there is a big ol angle to the film that I think is getting missed by a lot of folks who aren't from the UK because it's a very uh...

British Thing.

IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT OLIVER IS FROM THE NORTH.

Cut because Length.

Now look. I am not going to go into Thatcher and Her Crimes, but it's worth a google. I do bring it up in You're Almost Home because...

Lots of people are saying Oliver is upper middle class, and honestly? That doesn't track for me. At all. Yes, his parents have a detached house in a nice suburb and they went on holidays, but there's a lot of Very British Context to them that I really want to point out. Also remember, it's 2006/2007. That is also important.

First of all- Oliver's parents probably never went to University.

Really listen to them. How gullible they are- they believe that Oliver can study at Oxford, and be on the rowing team, and be in plays, and be top scholar. He's always been so clever. If Oliver was anything near upper middle class, his parents would be educated professionals. Oliver probably has dockworkers not even three generations back- his dad has management vibes, but he probably worked his way up in the 70s when all you needed was a good attitude and not to be an obvious murderer.

Secondly- let's talk about the house.

As someone from Down South who has also lived Up North, Oliver's Parent's house would not have been as expensive as people think. Let's assume they bought it in the 1980s- we ALL know that house prices are through the roof NOW, but even today there is a huge gap between house prices in the south and the north. 200k down South might get you a one bedroom flat, if you're lucky. 200k in Prescot can get you a 4-bed, semi-detached HOUSE. Check rightmove.

It is also important that the house is relatively new-looking, because over here Upper Middle Class people aren't really into new build houses- if Oliver was upper middle class, he'd be living in something Victorian or Edwardian. Probably somewhere with a good link to London, especially in 2007. It also means that Oliver's parents may not have even bought it outright- my parents got on the housing ladder via a shared ownership scheme. Oliver's parents aren't rich.

Now, the holidays. Mykonos. Another fun Brit thing is the package holiday. Here's a pretty interesting article about them;

Two adults and three kids could absolutely have gone to Mykonos every year in the late 80s/90s for far less than you'd expect, especially if they paid in installments each month.

I also mentioned about Ollie being from Merseyside specifically, but again. CONTEXT. Although Oliver isn't Liverpudlian (it's important, he's from NEAR Liverpool but not Liverpool itself) the North of England as a whole has routinely been fucked over by those in power. The government AND the royals and the very wealthy. It's still ongoing today- again, another fun source.

Remember when Mr Eats-Crunchies-Sideways called him a Bootlicker? That's fucking IMPORTANT. To many folks he IS a bootlicker. He is highly unlikely to have been raised to grovel at the feet of those with hereditary titles and wealth, and honestly he doesn't. I've written before about how Oliver Denies Felix Things and how that dynamic is important. Oliver likely hasn't been raised with any real deference to The Rich (except Princess Diana).

It also effects Oliver's response to Felix, because goddamn it THATCHER again- it is HIGHLY likely that Oliver has lived through a lot of homophobia. Internalised a lot of it. Felix's parents do not give a shit, but that was not the norm. Again, tried to hit on it in YAH, because times have changed since the 90s/2000s and people change with them, but no fuckin wonder Oliver never responded to Felix chirpsing him like a maniac. He's fucking REPRESSED when he's in Oxford, pals. It also makes sense with that weird Tumblr Dom shit he pulls; he's still fuckin weird about it, he's just being In Charge so he doesn't need to be vulnerable in any way. He is only vulnerable for Felix, and even then he can't SHOW felix that, that would be gay.

Leiflitter over'n'out

#leiflitter rambles #saltburn spoilers #saltburn thoughts #incoherent as usual pals #can't take the brit outta saltburn #yah!posting #saltburn brainrot #saltburn analysis

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mariacallous · 5 months ago

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“The muddy depths are being stirred by new monsters and witches from the deep,” Gore Vidal once wrote of the resurgence of the far right in the United States. In the case of the rioting that has erupted across England and Northern Ireland this week and last, old hatreds have been stirred up using new technologies.

The initial spark for the violence that has plagued British towns and cities was the sickening murder of three young girls last Monday in the seaside town of Southport, stabbed at a Taylor Swift-themed dance and yoga session. It was the sort of horrific crime that is mercifully rare in Britain. The last comparable attack on children occurred almost 30 years ago.

The only suspect in the Southport murders, 17-year-old Axel Rudakubana, was immediately arrested. We know Rudakubana’s name only because the judge in his case lifted an anonymity order—imposed as standard when the accused is a minor until legal proceedings begin—because false claims about the suspect’s origins were helping to fuel the racist violence. Social media posts claiming that the attacker was a Muslim, a refugee, a migrant, or a foreigner received 27 million impressions on Twitter/X in the 24 hours after the Southport killings.

Far-right groups descended on Southport the day after the stabbings. We know little about Rudakubana, but on Aug. 1 we did learn that he is a British national who was born in Cardiff to parents from Rwanda, a country with a large Christian majority. This has not prevented far-right thugs from rampaging through towns and cities including Manchester, Liverpool, Sunderland, Rotherham, Tamworth, Hartlepool, Middlesbrough, Aldershot, and Belfast, targeting Muslims

Many on the right have rushed to attribute the mobs to a sense of disillusion and a supposed social gap between the working class and the “elite”—a group in which they are never keen to count themselves. A few left-wingers have shared similar opinions. It is true that material factors have created a propitious environment in Britain for unrest. After 14 years of Tory government, before the recent Labour victory, the country is a poorer and more resentful place, its sclerotic and creaking public infrastructure barely functioning after years of neglect.

There is much to be angry about. Yet this does not adequately explain the nature nor the scale of the violence, much of which has been driven by a bourgeoning alliance between a right-wing elite and the mob—an alliance that, as Hannah Arendt once put it, rests on the “genuine delight with which the former [watch] the latter destroy respectability.”

For its part, the mob has attacked mosques, set buildings on fire, looted shops, violently assaulted ethnic minority bystanders, attacked cars on residential streets, and thrown bricks at the police. “We want our country back,” they yelled over the weekend while attempting to set fire to a hotel in Rotherham because they believed it was housing asylum-seekers. “P**i Muslims off our streets,” they yelled in Leeds. Footage from elsewhere showed men adorned with swastika tattoos, arms thrown up in Nazi salutes, voices yelling at anybody with brown skin to “go home.” This is not a rage that can, or should, be appeased.

This is not the first time rioting in the U.K. has been driven by bigotry. In Notting Hill in 1958, a mob of 400 white people attacked West Indian residents and their property. In the same week, racially motivated riots also broke out in St. Ann’s in Nottingham. Going further back, the Gordon Riots of 1780 saw an eruption of violent anti-Catholic sentiment.

Despite the atavistic nature of the hatreds unleashed this week and last, many who have taken to the streets this time around are creatures of social media. Several prominent far-right influencers have come out on social media in support of the mayhem with all sails unfurled. Others have been whipped into a near-homicidal frenzy by misinformation on apps such as X.

The kudzu spread of incendiary falsehoods began with the lie, first promulgated on X by the managing director of a clothing company, that the suspect in the Southport murders was an asylum-seeker named “Ali Al-Shakati.” The misogynist influencer Andrew Tate shared the false claim while asserting that the attacker was an “illegal immigrant.” The far-right activist Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, better known as “Tommy Robinson,” has used X to call for “mass deportations” and described Islam as a “mental health issue.” Meanwhile, disgraced actor Laurence Fox reacted to the stabbings by calling for Islam to be “removed from Britain.”

The mob responded accordingly. The day after false rumors about Ali Al-Shakati had began swirling around on social media, a group of white men attacked a mosque in Southport. The street violence has continued ever since.

Lurking in the background while disinformation is spread is a wealthy right-wing elite that has started to flex its political muscles. Some of the worst purveyors of misinformation have accounts on X only because right-wing billionaire Elon Musk has reinstated them—together with numerous other white supremacist accounts—under the guise of “free speech.”

Musk has spread misinformation about the riots on the app, claiming in one post that “civil war is inevitable” in Britain and amplifying one of Robinson’s posts. Robinson was reinstated by Musk in 2023 and today has more than 800,000 followers. Similarly, though he was banned from X in 2017 for claiming that women should bear “some responsibility” for being sexually harassed and assaulted, Tate was reinstated by Musk in 2022.

The takeover of media platforms by wealthy elites is driven by a right-wing adoption of the Gramscian belief that the conquest of power comes only after the conquest of culture. Musk, the world’s richest man, purchased X for $44 billion in 2022 in order to combat what he calls the “woke mind virus.” Together with renaming the platform, one of Musk’s first actions was to do away with legacy blue checks and open up verification on the platform to anybody with $8.

The move thrilled Musk’s sycophantic fan base, which had previously chafed with resentment at the status differential on the app between themselves and what they contemptuously referred to as the “legacy media.” But it also turned X into the world’s largest vector of misinformation. It is also of a piece with former White House strategist Steve Bannon’s idea of “flooding the zone with shit”—i.e., destroying the traditional media’s ability to give the public accurate information by letting it sink in a deluge of bullshit.

It isn’t only social media where influential right-wing figures have been allowed to blur the distinction between legitimate protest and far-right violence. Ever since the riots began last week, the British television station GB News has often sought to excuse them. Launched in 2021 and co-owned by the multimillionaire hedge fund manager Paul Marshall, since the murders in Southport, GB News has given airtime to an assortment of cranks, demagogues, and grifters. On more than one occasion, the station’s language has come dangerously close to incitement. The leader of the Reform U.K. party, Nigel Farage, who has his own show on GB News, also took to X in the aftermath of the Southport attacks to ask whether “the truth is being withheld from us” by the police about the identity of the suspect.

Earlier this year, Marshall—who as well as owning the reactionary website UnHerd is believed to be trying to purchase the Spectator and the Telegraph—was caught liking and sharing content close to the material that has been circulated this week by paranoid fascist weirdos. In February, the anti-extremist charity Hope not Hate revealed that Marshall had endorsed tweets calling for mass deportations and which suggested a civil war between “native Europeans” and “fake refugee invaders” was imminent.

Many of the presenters and guests on GB News have spent this week mocking Prime Minister Keir Starmer for labeling the riots as far right. Instead, the channel has sought to portray the street violence as driven by the “legitimate concerns” of disenfranchised members of the working class. The idea that the thuggish behavior of recent days is somehow representative of the working class is itself a form of middle-class prejudice—rooted in the unspoken assumption that working-class people are inherently stupid, racist, and violent.

GB News operates on familiar right-wing populist lines. Its prolier-than-thou presenters make superficial overtures to the masses while its modus operandi is to ensure that power is never truly shared or redistributed. But let’s not be too partisan about it: GB News is pushing at a door that has already been loosened by more “respectable” media coverage of migrants and asylum-seekers.

There is a self-pitying refrain on the right that you “can’t talk about” immigration. Yet the big mouths and shock jocks of the right-wing media seldom shut up about it. This time last year, the broadcaster James Whale suggested on Rupert Murdoch’s TalkTV that the U.K. “should point weapons” at migrants in the English Channel. Even talking about migrants in this sort of bloodthirsty language is no impediment to getting on. A few months later, Whale was made an MBE.

The suggestion that the violent protests represent the last resort of Britain’s forgotten majority is, of course, laughable. When polled, nearly 50 percent of Britons wanted harsher-than-usual sentences for the rioters, 39 percent the usual norms of sentencing, and just 4 percent more lenient charges.

Less than five weeks ago, Starmer convincingly won a general election against a Tory party that campaigned on the slogan of stopping the boats carrying asylum-seekers to the United Kingdom. In truth, the ghouls who have haunted television studios this week making excuses for the rioters see any Labour government as equivalent to an occupying power. They want their country back because, after 14 years, they feel as if it has been lost at the ballot box.

But if anybody has a right to think of themselves as the voice of the people at the present time, it is the newly elected Labour prime minister. He may not own a television station or a social media app, but he does have a 174-seat majority in the House of Commons. The rule of law—and democracy—must prevail.

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