#Knockout Bar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slu7formen · 3 months

Text

MDNI. dark!luke castellan x fem!reader

you get captured by luke castellan, but not for the main purpose you think it’s for

warnings: dark!luke ( finally ), evil luke, capture (?, reader’s a nemesis child, wounds, teasing, flirty luke 😏, swearing, manipulation, seduction, bl00d sucking (?

₊˚⊹♡

The air felt chilly against the bare skin of your arms. Cold stone pressed against the back of your thighs as you sat huddled on the floor, the air thick with the unmistakable tang of salt. You were likely trapped somewhere near the sea, that much was clear.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your head, a relentless echo of the knockout that had sent you into a temporary darkness.

You strained your ears, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic crash of waves against distant shores. And then, a slight noise. Fidgeting. Straining your eyes in the gloom, you made out the silhouette of a figure standing motionless on the other side of the cold, rusty, iron bars. The figure shifted, and a voice cut through the silence.

"Comfortable?"

Luke drawled. You didn't respond, a defiant silence swirling within you. You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, darting your gaze away.

"No words?" he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Hm” he says, nodding. Luke's amusement morphed into a predatory glint. He walked closer to the bars, his movements deliberate, calculated. He crouched down, his frame lowering to your level on the floor dangerously. "I suppose you want this back" he said, his voice a low rumble.

He reached into the shadows beside him, producing a glint of metal. He tossed something through the bars, the object landing with a clatter at your feet. It was your dagger.

You didn't reach for it, though the urge to snatch the weapon and fight your way out was strong. But again, what would it be useful for now? Cut his fingers off? Instead, you locked your gaze on a spot beyond him, your jaw clenched tight.

Luke chuckled, as if your stubbornness was something he was having fun with, but his words pierced; “Are you deaf or just dumb?”

"Fuck you" you spat, your voice surprisingly steady.

He raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Wow, you can talk" he said, his voice laced with mock surprise. "What? Not happy to see me?"

His smile twisted into a smirk, the amusement returning to his eyes, but this time it held a cruel edge. You glared at him, refusing to back down. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to remain silent.

With a sigh, as if he was tired of you already, he reached through the bars. His hand, calloused and strong, clamped around your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. The touch was cold and unwelcome in your skin.

He studied your face silently for a moment, his eyes lingering on the split lip you'd acquired during your capture. "I see you know how to put up a fight" he remarked, his voice low and gravelly. His dark gaze scanned your features as he tilted your head sideways, lingering on a small cut marring your cheekbone.

He was obviously enjoying this. The powerful dynamic.

His thumb followed the trail of blood from your split lip, tracing it down your chin before slowly lifting. You watched, a mix of disgust and a strange fascination warring within you, as he brought his thumb to his own mouth. His tongue darted out, swiping away the crimson stain before retreating back into his mouth.

"Too bad you're not capable of forming a sentence" he commented dryly, his voice laced with a cruel humor that sent chills down your spine. "But you're pretty, I'll give you that."

You noticed the way his eyes snapped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. You clenched your jaw, a surge of defiance battling the fear that threatened to eat you. "What am I here for?" you blurted out, the need for answers overriding your cautious silence. "Why do you want me here?"

Luke seemed genuinely surprised for a moment. He leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied you with a newfound intensity. "Why do you think?" he stated blankly, his voice devoid of the earlier amusement.

"One of the Furies," you began, piecing together the fragments of your capture. "She said you'd be pleased to see me. That I was hard to catch. Why?" You pushed yourself closer to the bars, the need for understanding warring with the terror in your chest. "Why, out of all the demigods you could take, am I here?"

A slow chuckle escaped Luke's lips. He leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the cave for a moment as if contemplating his answer. Finally, he sighed, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes.

"Well, let's just say..." he trailed off, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I've been looking for you for a while."

You scoffed. "Why?"

"Hm," he hummed, a sly smirk returning to his face. His hand reached through the bars once more, his finger working on placing a piece of your hair behind your ear, as if he was taking care of your appearance even in a moment so vulnerable like this.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty?" he murmured, his voice a low, seductive whisper. His eyes held you captive, a dark intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul.

You jerked away from his touch, anger flaring within you. "Seriously, Luke," you spat. "I suppose you want me to join your army. But why? Why not take someone who's more powerful? More of a threat?"

A ghost of a smile played on Luke's lips. He reached out again sharply, surprising you, this time wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, holding you close to the bars.

"And who said you weren't powerful?" he countered, his voice surprisingly gentle despite his grip. "I know power when I see it, princess" he continued, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "And you have more than you think you do."

You scoffed, a flicker of defiance igniting in your chest. "How are you so sure?" The question tumbled out, more of a challenge than a genuine inquiry.

His touch lingered on your neck, over your pulse. A single finger reached out, tilting your head back slightly for a deeper inspection.

"Because," he cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone holding you captive. "I'm always right about these things."

His fingers, warm and calloused, began to trace a path up your cheekbone, eventually sinking into your hair. His touch sent conflicting signals through you – a primal fear warring with a strange sense of familiarity. The gentle massage of your scalp was a stark contrast to the harshness of your surroundings, a soothing melody amidst the chaos.

"You have your reasons, don't you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "You and your siblings – cast aside, ignored by the camp that should have put you under its wing? They haven't given you the chance to prove yourself as the warrior I know you are."

His words, laced with a deceptive sweetness, wormed their way into your ears. A flicker of truth resonated within them. Years of being ostracized at Camp Half-Blood, of being overlooked despite your relentless training, boiled up inside you. Luke's words, though spoken by the enemy, held a twisted validity and truth.

"You're strong" he continued, his voice a seductive melody. "And skilled. I've seen you." He leaned in closer. "And here, with me, I´ll give you that value." His voice was like poison, sweet and tempting, whispering empty promises into your brain.

It was like a starving person being offered a delicious feast, and your loyalty, your very identity, felt like the price of admission.

"Besides," he added casually, leaning back slightly, "I'm sure you'd prefer to stay once I tell you your half-brother's here."

Luke's smirk widened as he noticed the shift in your gaze. "Ah, yes" he hummed, drawing out the word for dramatic effect. "Ethan. A great warrior, I must say."

His fingers continued their absentminded exploration, tracing patterns along your scalp. The touch, though unwelcome, held a strange sense of comfort – a twisted echo of the affection you craved and had never received. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed.

"He told me a lot about you," he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fleeting moment before returning to your defiant stare. "We could say," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "He's a little eager to see you."

You shook your head, the initial wave of surprise receding. "So that's why you wanted me?" you asked, your voice regaining its strength. "Just another little soldier to play with?"

Luke's face hardened for a moment, the playful facade slipping. “Tsk” he clicked his tongue, "It´s not that" he countered, his voice firm. "You're useful," he stated flatly, his voice cold once more. "You're worthy. But you´re blind to your own skills."

He paused, his gaze intense. "I want to show you your value," he whispered. "I want to show you the power you truly possess."

His hand moved again, his fingers wrapping a loose strand of your hair around his finger, tugging gently. "You´ll only grow stronger with each day under me" he continued, his voice low and seductive.

A flicker of vulnerability crossed your face, a flicker Luke noticed with a triumphant smirk. He was right. You couldn't deny the allure of his offer. Years of neglect at Camp Half-Blood had left a gaping hole in your heart, a yearning for recognition that gnawed at you constantly. There, wherever it is that he was, Luke offered a twisted form of acceptance, a chance to finally prove yourself.

He knew he had you on the ropes. He pulled you closer to the bars, the space between you shrinking to a mere breath.

"You'll explode your potential here, princess" he murmured, his voice a seductive rasp. "You'll never have to feel ignored ever again." And then, he smiled. "Not even by me" he added, the arrogance in his voice grating on your nerves.

Confusion clouded your mind. "What?"

Luke chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Some birdy told me you had a thing for me," he teased, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous amusement. "Is it true?"

His amusement was evident, a cruel glint dancing in his dark eyes. Memories swirled in your mind – a careless remark made to a friend, a fleeting crush held in the innocence and care of camp back then. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the shadows and escape his mocking gaze.

“Maybe not as much as you having a thing for me, but…” his fingers slowly traveled over the column of your neck, “more like you thinking I’m…” he hummed to himself as he thought of the word, “hot?” he finished, his grin widening with tease.

You remained silent, suddenly too aware of your own presence, and wanting to die of cringing. “See, that’s another reason why I wanted you here” he continued, “I already said it. You’re pretty” And then began a slow, agonizing torture.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, “With those lips,” he begins, “that pretty face,” he murmurs, his hand still trailing a path over your features. “those eyes, that hair...” he whispers, his fingers slowly moving back into your hair, tracing the length of it. But his praises didn’t stop there-

"That neck" he breathed out, needily. He used his thumb to tilt your chin upwards, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. You unconsciously let your eyes flutter shut.

He dared to trail his nails down your neck, a light scratch that sent goosebumps erupting across your skin. The touch, cruel and strangely arousing, left you breathless, stealing a little gasp from your lips.

He seemed to ignore you. "That perfect body" he stated, his voice low and husky, his eyes slowly traveling down your form. His gaze lingered on your curves, sending a flush of heat radiating from within you.

"You're like a little doll" he praised, as if he suddenly was possessed, under a spell. His words felt like a violation, a mockery of your strength and independence.

He let his index finger fall down your sternum, lingering provocatively at the dip between your collarbones, trailing a light path until it rested loosely against your chest.

"So beautiful" he rasped, his voice laced with desire. "So delicate."

He leaned just a bit closer. "Made to be touched. And I'm just the person to do it”

A strangled laugh escaped your lips, laced with a mix of disbelief and morbid amusement. "So what?" you scoffed, forcing your voice to remain steady despite the turmoil churning within you. "You want me as a warrior and-, yours?"

A sinister chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending shivers down your spine. "Now you're getting it, princess" he whispered, leaning closer so that his warm breath brushed against your cheek. "Be a soldier," he continued, each word a promise, a threat, a seduction rolled into one. "Let me train you. Let me unleash the potential you possess, and make them regret every time they overlooked you” he says.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity. "Let me," he breathed, his voice thick with unspoken desire, "let me touch you, and make you mine."

You remained silent, confusion and strangeness growing inside you. Oh how the tables have turned.

"You're a weapon" he breathed, his voice a near caress. "Sharp as a blade. You're meant to be trained, to be held." His voice dropped to a whisper, sending chills down your spine. "Your skills, your strengths, your body” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity. "By me."

His words hung heavy in the air, the unspoken threat clear. His grip tightened on the bars, knuckles turning white.

"And I want to hear every little sound that comes out of that pretty mouth you have" he added, his voice returning to its teasing tone. The lustful glint in his eyes was undeniable, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions.

"So, what will it be, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Will you join the other side-, and become mine?"

He was playing you, of that you were certain. But a part of you, a part starved for validation, couldn't help but be swayed. The allure of power, the promise of respect, it all shimmered enticingly before you. And then there was him. The arrogant smirk, the possessiveness that both repelled and intrigued you.

The weight of the situation, the tangled mess of emotions, it was all too much to bear. You wanted it all. The glory of battle, the thrill of power, the acceptance you craved. And Luke, with his seductive promises and unsettling touch, offered it all on a silver platter.

“Yes?” Luke asked, your silence taking more time than necessary.

"Yes," you whispered, the word heavy with betrayal and a strange sense of liberation. "I'm on your side, Luke."

Silence descended, thick and heavy. Then, a slow, sinister smile crept across Luke's face.

"Good girl" he purred, his voice laced with a chilling satisfaction. "You know what's good for you-,

Welcome to the winning side”

winning side, lol

683 notes · View notes

bellawoso · 3 months

Text

everywhere

aitana bonmati x reader

a/n : the sleeveless training top kills me every time i see it

aitana had been obsessed impressed with you ever since the 2021 games of barcelona vs arsenal, although she knew that she should be overcome by feelings of pride for her teams winnings, she couldnt help but let her small crush on you get in the way of her celebrations.

sure she was tired after the match, but so was everyone else, and they still managed to have a night out in the london bars. aitana however, spent all night stalking your instagram account on a random fake account she had, normal behaviour right?

after the 2022 euros knockout match, where england were victorious, aitanas crush which she thought was gone, came back even bigger when instead of immediately celebrating with your teammates, you instead went to the nearest spanish player to you, which happened to be the spaniard herself, and started consoling her. your hand on her back made her skin tingle, and momentarily she almost forgot about the loss when you whispered into her ear how she played a good game, before bringing her in for a warm embrace. aitana didnt waste the chance of wrapping her arms round your waist as yours went around her neck.

the brunette wouldnt be surprised if she dropped down with a heart attack right there when you requested for a shirt swap, with you both being number 6 nationally. seeing her name sprawled across your back definitely didnt ease her racing heart or her flushed cheeks.

———

the next time you saw the spaniard was at the world cup final, although you were out with your ACL injury at the time, you still wouldnt miss this match for the world. as soon as england lost you were straight onto the pitch, comforting your national teammates, who were about to see spain being crowned world champions.

you were just about to go talk to lucy, a close friend of yours from national camps, until aitana stepped in your path. you had grown quite fond of the girl, despite the fact you had never played for the same teams, you both respected each other greatly, and often congratulated each other through instagram of the others achievements. you werent quite ready for the girl stepping out in front of you, you were still on crutches, almost ready to come off them, the spaniard just clipped your crutch with her boot causing you to tumble forward slightly. luckily the brunette was ready to catch you, her strong arms gripping onto your waist whilst she repeated “lo siento” and lectured her self in spanish, until you cut her off “hola aita, good game you deserve this so much, i know how hard you worked to get here.”

“ah yes- gracias y/n, i am upset you dont play today, im sure you would have made a difference” aitana managed to get out, in slightly broken english but you found it extremely endearing.

“yes i am sad too, but i will be back for the euros before you know it! so, balon d’or huh?” you said with a grin, it was extremely obvious that the girl you was talking to was going to be a future balon d’or winner, despite her humble nature as she argued with you, saying there are other people who deserve it more than her.

until you cut off her rambling once again “aita it was so lovely catching up with you, but im positive all of your teammates are waiting for you to celebrate, i wouldnt want to keep you” you stated with a soft smile and a glance at ona who waited behind aitana, and seemed to have finished consoling lucy.

as aitana turned to walk away, you started walking over to lucy, painfully unaware of the extremely obvious glances aitana kept giving you over her shoulder, the spaniard prayed you didnt hear onas teasing.

———

it was around the start of december when you began playing again, helping by scoring 2 goals in the 4-1 win against chelsea. it was unsurprising how you had ended up on barcas radar, it was very unusual for a player to somehow be better than they were pre-ACL, after only just returning. it was safe to say that aitana had watched every single arsenal game since you returned, even on the ones where you didnt play, just to catch a glimpse of you on the bench. the other girls on her team had noticed this, and despite aitanas insistence that it was to keep up with the WSL and to check on laia codina, her teammates werent stupid. and it was painfully obvious every time aitanas breath hitched when you were displayed on the screen, which was quite often as you were a fan favourite.

you had also developed a bit of a fan-girling crush on the spaniard herself, it was hard not to when you saw her training pictures on her story daily, and couldnt help but wonder what you would have to do to be blessed enough to witness her training in real life.

clearly you didnt have to do much, as your manager called you one day to talk about potential transfers, one immediately stood out to you, barcelona.

it all happened very quickly in your opinion, although your manager disagreed as barcelona were actually being quite annoying with offering you a contract as they were constantly holding it until last minute. until finally they managed to sit you down with pen and paper, for you to begin your new journey with them. the media followed shortly after, barcelona and arsenal seemingly decided to just dump all of your departure and new arrival videos on every single social media platform they had.

aitana was at home when the media teams dropped your videos, immediately clicking on the notification from barcelonas instagram. she had been waiting for a while for keiras fully edited catalan interview to be posted, so she was visibly shocked when instead she was met with the sight of you in the barca home kit.

aitana definitely knew she was down bad when she couldnt fall asleep that night, her thoughts clouded of you in that stupid home kit, even better, in the barca tracksuit you had worn for your interviews.

she quickly sent you an short instagram message just to say ‘hola, welcome to barca amiga :)’ before finally managing to fall asleep.

———

your arrival was soon after, and despite your initial worry of not fitting in to the team, you soon learned that you got along fine with the girls after your first training session. from the very beginning aitana clung to you, immediately becoming your bestfriend on the team and promising to take you to all of the best hidden gems in barcelona. it was amusing to the team of how obvious aitana was being and how oblivious you were to it all.

such as the day where aitana was hit twice on the head by a football after not hearing the shout of “heads” while staring at you with heart eyes as you laughed with ona.

or when she was still running laps and warming up with keira whilst you had a 1 v 1 with lucy, and she ran into a goal post. she never truly lived that one down, and the whole team new about it as she had to go down to medical with a minor concussion and miss the next match due to her headache.

the bonus was that you were too scared to leave aitana at her apartment by herself after reading up about concussions online, so you stayed with her for a week. which was longer than necessary, but aitana didnt need to know the real reason for your insistence to stay.

the most recent thing to happen was when she dropped a weight on keiras foot in the gym when she saw you walk in, looking particularly good in the training kit today, this action made the english girl snap, telling aitana to just go admit her feelings, whilst cursing under her breath and walking to the medical room for an ice pack.

lucy came up behind aitana after keira left, chuckling about the previous incident but also to reassure the spaniard “dont worry aitana, ive known y/n for ages, she likes you back, trust me” she said, making aitana nod and turn on her heels to confidently and calmly walk over to you, as you were currently near the mats with ingrid.

except this didnt happen, as aitana didnt seem very confident or calm at all as she tripped as she neared you, causing her to stumble straight into you, sending the both of you tumbling straight to the floor.

“dios mío! lo siento y/n, i dont know what happened!” you stayed on the floor laughing about what just happened, as vicky came over “i think i know what happened, aitana just fell for y/n!” the younger girl shouted for the entire gym to hear like the pest she was, causing both you and aitana to flush bright red, still on the floor.

until aitana leaned over to you “while were still down here, will you please go on a date with me?” she asked giving her best puppy dog eyes.

“i would love to aita”

———

you and aitana went on the date on saturday, the brunette had chosen for the two of you to go to a coffee shop in the little town where she was raised, you could tell just how proud and passionate she was of where she was born. at first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, until you fell back into your usual rhythm of chatting and laughing.

except for when aitana bumped into someone she knew from her youth, and stumbled a bit over her words when introducing you, the words “shes my girl-” coming out of her mouth before blushed cut her self off and ended up blurting out “y/n, shes my y/n” with an awkward, toothy grin.

this made you burst out laughing, at aitanas newfound social awkwardness, and the strangers confusion, it was only after they walked away that you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers, saying “if you wanted to be my girlfriend you could have just asked” with a smirk.

“cállate! muy molesta-“ as she carried on with her spanish rambling making you smile at seeing her worked up state until she suddenly asked “wait were you being serious that i can ask to be your girlfriend?”

“well normally back in england we dont ask the person for permission to ask them to be our girlfriend, but whatever suits you tana!” you answered back playfully.

“fine then! i wont ask if your going to be all sarcastic about it” the older girl replied. “sure you wont aita, sure.” taking a sip from your water bottle while the brunette seemed to be giving you the silent treatment

“be my girlfriend” she suddenly stated, making you choke on your water “thats really not how we ask back in england, spain must be very different” you thought aloud.

“stop it! just confirm it with me, we are basically dating all ready!” aitana huffed in faux frustration about how annoying you were being about this. “okay, okay! i would love to be your girlfriend then aitana.” this made her grin, so you were guessing you were in the good girlfriend books at the moment.

you and aitana went on many more dates after that, the two of you fit so perfectly. although you were both extremely talented footballers, aitana was always very work focused, whereas you got bored of things like match analysis very easily. where aitana was extroverted around new people, you were usually very quiet around strangers. you both balanced each other out very well, aitana often having to help you with your match analysis, and you being the one to get aitana to bed at the right time instead of letting her rewatch the match again.

———

one thing that aitana never really seemed to grow out of was the honeymoon stage, after two months of being together openly, she really should have got used to the fact that you were hers and she was yours. however, the spaniard never quite got over the fact that the two of you were actually together, especially after crushing in you for the past couple of years.

this led to her quite literally just trailing around after you everywhere, like a lost puppy. when you finally snapped and told her to go to keira, and socialise with her friends, said lost puppy suddenly became a kicked puppy that looked like you just abandoned it on the side of the road.

“but amorrrr, i wont bother you! i promise!” she begged, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“aitana no! you have hardly spoke to your friends all week, and although i love you, your starting to really annoy me!” you said. your girlfriend had already dropped a dumbell on your ankle after she decided she needed to do her arm workouts right next to your workout mat. she had then spilt coffee all over you, which although she claims is all okay now as she gave you her hoodie to replace your top, you never quite got over the sticky coffee feeling in your skin.

your last straw was when she decided to try trail right behind you into your meeting with jonatan and some of the other coaches, solely a checkup and a one to one meeting about things to work on in training.

“aitana no! go to keira please, i love you but this is a one on one meeting, your not allowed to be in here” you didnt leave time for her to argue as you quickly planted a kiss on her lips and went into the room, shutting the door straight behind you.

you were never normally one to reject your girlfriends clinginess, however sometimes you just needed your own personal space, and today was an odd day where things werent going right and your temper was short.

you were going to apologise to aitana, but as soon as you came out of your meeting she was there with flowers and coffee for you, and saying sorry for annoying you today. “aitana no, its fine, if anything, i am sorry. i love being around you as your my girlfriend, but i do think its important you start hanging out with your friends again!”

“yes amor i understand, i actually went with ona to get the flowers and she got some for lucy too!” aitana replied, as she planted a kiss on your lips.

on the way home, aitana also called at one of your favourite shops that sold books and records. despite her being more of a spotify and film person, she still made an effort to be enthusiastic in the shop. she definitely did not get bored and decide to pull you in for a kiss behind the non fiction book shelf.

however, she still never really left her honeymoon phase.

———

yourusername

liked by ingrid_engen, lucybronze and 23,962 others

caption: she follows me everywhere but its okay tagged: aitanabonmati

comments:

aitanabonmati: you love it

-> yourusername: i do.

lucybronze: you two make me throw up

-> yourusername: dont act like you and ona arent the same.

marialeonn16: i counted 3 balls to aitanas head yesterday training

-> vickyylopezz._: she fell over aswell 😭

-> yourusername: guys leave tana alone! 🥹

-> aitanabonmati: what my gf said.

user1: they are so cute omg 😭

user2: power couple!

user3: best woso couple there is

———

a/n: this is not proofread so no judgement to bad grammar pretty pleasee

#Spotify #woso #woso community #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #alexia putellas #aitana #aitana bonmati x reader

464 notes · View notes

ninzied · 6 months

Text

where ground meets light

alex and henry go on a double date. modern au. based on the prompt: a kiss to distract, for @caressthosecheekbones. ~1.2k.

They’ve only been dating a few weeks when he suggests it.

“Sorry.” Henry has to take this all in for a moment. Surely he must have misheard. “You want to go on a double date? With Alex?”

“Is that weird?” Gregory asks, in the manner of one who’s merely being rhetorical. “He’s your best friend. I want to get to know him better.”

“Well. Sure,” Henry says, because he cannot think of a single reasonable objection that a normal person would make. A normal person who’s not been harboring an ill-advised torch for his best friend for years. “Though,” he hedges, as if the thought’s just occurring to him, “I’m not sure he’s dating anyone at the moment.”

Henry would know if he is. In fact, according to Pez, the whole world would be hard-pressed not to notice because of the moods Henry gets in when it happens.

But it’s been well over a month now since his latest “little London fog,” as Pez calls it, so Henry mentions the idea to Alex as an afterthought, thinking there’s no real danger of him saying yes.

“Great!” says Alex brightly. “I’ll bring Yvette.”

He’ll bring fucking whom?

Yvette is a bloody knockout, of course.

Henry expects nothing less. Alex is only the most beautiful man who’s ever walked the planet, so it stands to reason that his date should look as she does.

The more unfortunate thing is that Yvette is also supremely likable. She’s warm, and funny, and seems to share Alex’s knack for livening up the conversation as though they’ve all been friends for years.

By all counts, the date should be a success. Henry laughs more than he thought he would and drinks far less than he thought he would need to. Alex is impressed by the food, which makes Henry feel absurdly pleased to have chosen this particular restaurant.

And, perhaps most importantly: because they’re seated at a round table with Alex angled off to his left, Henry hasn’t caught himself staring at him even once.

Perhaps he’s not so at risk of giving himself away as he’d thought.

The trouble, turns out, starts elsewhere.

The trouble is that Henry doesn’t have to be looking at Alex to be attuned to his every feeling and movement.

The way Alex’s knee keeps jittering under the table. The tic in his finger as he taps, then stills. Taps, then stills. The fact that he’s hardly stopped for a breath since they sat down.

He’s antsy, and miserable, but he’s trying so hard and his smile’s so vibrant that not a single person can tell. Not a one but Henry, and he needs to do something, needs Alex to know that he’s seen.

“Darling,” says Henry, without even thinking, and puts his hand on Alex’s wrist. Christ. Fuck. What did he say? What is he doing? But none of that seems to matter right now. “Are you all right?”

He feels Alex relax as though instantly calmed by that one simple touch, and Henry knows that if Alex hadn’t been all right before, he is more so now, somehow.

“Another round of drinks?” Henry asks the table, not even waiting, not even looking, before pulling Alex to his feet. “We’ll be right back.”

This is the difference between them. They both have their moods, but Henry wears his on his sleeve and has to shut himself away until it’s passed.

Alex, meanwhile, hides his in plain sight from most people, but Henry likes to think he’s not most people, and as soon as they’re at the bar out of earshot he looks Alex in the eye and says, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Was it that obvious? Fuck.” Alex shakes his head. “It’s nothing, Hen, just—want to make a good first impression, you know?”

Henry’s brow furrows. He tells that jealous little twinge in his chest that now is not the time. “Is this your first date with Yvette or something?” No wonder he’s not heard of her earlier. “Christ, Alex, why didn’t you say so sooner? You didn’t have to come if you didn’t—”

Alex laughs under his breath for some reason. “We’re not dating.”

“You’re—what?”

“She’s a friend,” says Alex. “She’s helping me out. And if the lov—I mean, if my best friend’s boyfriend wants to meet me, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Henry’s chest is positively aching now. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he says, firmly despite how breathless he feels. “It’s not that dire, trust me. We’ve only been on, like, three dates before this one.”

“Oh.” Alex seems to process this. His expression looks lighter for just a split second before it gets all heavy again. “Well, if you’re wanting there to be a fifth, you should probably talk to him before it’s too late. Looks like he’s about to leave.”

Henry glances over his shoulder, and sighs. “I should probably talk to him, yeah.”

Gregory is putting his coat on as Henry walks over. They both muster up a small smile, Henry’s more rueful, Gregory’s resigned.

“I’m really sorry,” Henry says, and means it.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to make it into a thing,” Gregory says. “Unless you’re about to tell me to stay. That would be pushing it.”

“I’m not,” Henry admits. “What I did want to say is that—well, I haven’t been entirely honest with myself about what I want. Which means I haven’t been honest with you, and that’s not fair to you at all.”

Gregory nods. “I do like you, Henry. You deserve to be happy. And I deserve to not be the guy that you use as an excuse to keep standing in your own way.” He glances at Alex back at the bar. Yvette is there now too, flirting up a storm with the bartender.

“I wanted to get to know your best friend,” Gregory continues. “And now that I have, I can say that he’s a really lucky guy.” He gives Henry a meaningful look. “Even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Alex straightens as Henry approaches the bar, an untouched whiskey in one hand. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to go talk to him.”

“I did.” Henry shrugs, and helps himself to Alex’s drink.

Alex is looking as though he’ll never again know happiness in this world. “I fucked things up for you, didn’t I. Fuck.”

“What? No,” says Henry, but Alex doesn’t seem to be listening. “Alex. Alex.”

“Do you want me to go talk to him? I can explain.” Alex runs a hand through his hair, sending his curls all breathtakingly askew.

He doesn’t even know, Henry marvels. He doesn’t even know.

“I mean, it’s not your fault that I—” Alex breaks off with a frustrated sigh before starting back up again. “I’ll tell him that you don’t feel the same way, and that I’m really fucking sorry I ruined your night with my—you know—feelings, and—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Henry says.

Then he leans in and kisses him, because Alex is an unstoppable force, and this is the one place where Henry has not been brave enough to meet him, until now.

Alex goes quiet at last, save for the sigh he lets out as their lips part and his hands find Henry’s waist and pull in.

“Whoa,” he breathes after a moment. “Yeah, we gotta do that again.”

“Shh,” Henry murmurs, “we were doing so well.” He puts his hand on Alex’s nape, drawing him back in.

Alex kisses him back like it’s the only thing that centers him, the only thing that keeps him grounded, and Henry—well.

Henry can’t help but think that it feels a bit like flying, too.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #iuserzoe #userveronika #chrissiewatts #usersteen #usernuria

331 notes · View notes

harmonictechnicality · 2 years

Text

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 2)

part 1 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Steve spends a lot of his spare time at the gym. Comes with the territory of modeling or whatever. Gotta keep himself strong, without developing bulging muscles. Gotta keep himself toned, without becoming too lean. Somewhat of a balancing act to this media fuckery circus.

Times are changing, yeah maybe. But not for puffy-lipped preps with killer bone structure. Steve still falls under the category of stereotypical Pretty Boy, and he’s chill with that. Fucking owns it.

Most days…

He’s currently cooling down on the treadmill - brisk walk, almost a jog. It’s a good pace for multitasking some adult shit that he needs to get done. Staying hydrated, keeping his photoshoot calendar up-to-date, answering a few emails. Yada yada.

Steve takes a swig of his seaweed (more like arsenic) smoothie. Opens the top email that reads:

The Fallen King - Final Commercial Cut

Right. Steve almost forgot about this particular shoot. Well, tried to repress the thoughts of that mega-douche director who kept referring to Steve’s ass as ‘prime real estate.’ Fucking creep.

He scrolls down to the attached file and slides his headphones back over his ears.

The ad opens with a wide shot of Steve draped over the throne, fog swelling around the bottom of the screen. The music is an eerie cello solo, set to a heavy bassline.

Just another oversexualized cologne campaign, he thinks. Probably will barely feature the product because they paid big money for Steve’s body. Gotta get their fill of it (ha, they fucking wish Steve would fill them up).

But then the narration rolls into his ears and the room does a somersault. Practically inverts it’s axis at the sound dripping in Steve’s ears:

‘The mighty will fall from grace…’

“Oh shit.” Steve almost wipes out on the treadmill, has to catch his fall on the side bars. His knees are tingling, calves molten and shaky. Already half hard, which is definitely going to be a problem in these flimsy, mesh gym shorts.

‘Forbidden love and public slander…’

But that voice. That tone. That sinful register set in the minor key of Holy Fuck.

‘Will bring them to their knees.’

Alright, that fucking does it. Steve pauses the video before he’s fully tenting-out in a goddamn fitness center. Packs up his shit, chucks the sludge smoothie in the trash, and finds an empty stall. Emphatically locks it.

“Agh, damnit!” Steve's thumb slips over the screen and exits out of the video. It scrolls back to the top of the email - a new message has been added to the chain.

Seriously, what obnoxious fucker does ‘Reply All’ these days?

The new message reads:

Great work, team. (Sorry for being such a vocal slut.)

(… Not that sorry though.) - Eddie Munson

That’s right - the voice artist. Almost didn’t recognize the voice, but the repressed memory of that day comes flying to the surface when Steve sees the name.

He recalls the guy being objectively cute too. Not in the California ‘sun-kissed skin’ kind of way. More in the Seattle ‘rain forces me to be a pale homebody’ kind of way. His eyes were something else though. They reminded Steve of the sepia tone filters he used in his early modeling portfolio. No way in hell Steve could ever forget knockout eyes like that.

The locker room is empty. Steve reopens the video, raises the volume high enough to mute out the thin hum from the air conditioning unit. Only wants to hear Eddie’s voice. That’s it.

He’s already touching himself when the first phrase falls out of the headphones. Can’t even help it now that he’s alone. It’s all too good. Works himself up all stuffy and sensitive by the time the new part comes up:

‘Drenched in their guilt. Soaked in their shame.’

Fucking christ.

‘Choking on worthless confessions…’

Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Choking? Worthless? What is this, a sado hotline? Steve feels the heat spreading on his neck, flushed over in a non-exercise way. There’s a thump in his dick, has to squeeze his fingers around it. Like his body needs a reminder to calm the fuck down.

‘Until all that is left of them is desolate darkness.’

Pretty sure the raspy exhale after every phrase is going to do Steve in, saturate his last ounce of dignity with want. Eddie’s breathing is taking Steve’s breath away, and that’s an outright mindfuck. Earfuck.

Something is getting fucked, and somehow, Steve still needs more.

While the song sustains, Steve strokes himself to the percussive rhythm.

‘The Fallen King. The scent of secrets.’

The hiss on the last syllable fades into the music till everything fizzles out, going dead silent.

Well, everything goes silent except for Steve, who is utterly rattled. Can hear his dense breath and it’s way too noisy for a public space. The pulse in his neck is irregular, hitched the fuck up. His smartwatch is buzzing, alerting him that his heart rate is elevated, which duh. His whole body feels like it underwent some sexual awakening in the middle of a fitness center.

And, sure. That’s a common place for people to realize how gay and desperate they are, but not like this. Not with zero visuals of sweaty bodies.

Before he starts the video over to… finish the job, a phone call lights up his screen. Because of course it does.

He reads the name and swipes it open. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“I need coffee.” Robin whines, already pouting into the phone speaker no doubt.

“You always need coffee.”

“Yeah but like… it tastes better when you buy me coffee.”

“Oh, so you want to mooch off of your own client?” Steve teases because he can. They can annoy the shit out of each other and write it off as endearment. “Pretty unprofessional of you, Ms. Manager.”

Robin groans. Makes it a long one too - probably to show off both her annoyance and lung capacity. “Fuck all the way off, you were my friend first. Always friends first.”

“Always friends first.” Steve agrees. She’s right, usually is about most things. Robin has been his manager since his last agency went bankrupt from pouring their funds into promoting Fyre Fest. And everyone knows that turned out to be an entire fuckshow.

Honestly, it’s easier this way - Robin being his manager. They get to hang out more, he has more input on gigs that he’s interested in…

Interested in. Huh. The metaphorical lightbulb flicks on in Steve’s voice-drunk brain. Having his best friend as his manager is also convenient when Steve needs the phone number of a certain co-worker.

“Alright, fine.” Steve has a sly grin on as he talks. “I’ll bring over some coffee.”

“Thank god.”

“If!”

“Ugh.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you can send me the cast and crew contact sheet from the Fallen King commercial.”

“Ew, why?” Robin asks, sounds totally repulsed. Valid, that shoot was Objectification Station.

But truly, Steve’s not in the mood to make up an excuse. He’s sore and sweaty and half-hard. So he just gets to the damn point. “Look, do you want coffee or not?”

“Okay okay.” That’s one way to speed up the process. Caffeine threats - works every time. “Dropping the file to you now.”

“You’re the best.” Steve sings.

“I know, I know.” And the line clicks dead.

Okay. This is not a booty call, it’s not.

Steve is just texting a semi-stranger to tell him that his voice is potentially the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Okay, he’ll definitely phrase it better than that, maybe throw a few emojis in there to normalize the tone. Soften it up to sound very un-stalkery.

Yeah. Not a booty call. And if Eddie happens to send an audio message, and Steve happens to jerk off to it… still not a booty call, right?

Pathetic, maybe. But not basic, thank fuck.

He types, then re-types the message out way too many times before settling on this:

Steve: Great work on the commercial voiceover! Got ur number from the call sheet. hope that’s cool.

Steve hits send before realizing he didn’t have the goddamn common sense to introduce himself. He’s not even a rookie at hookups, why is he suddenly so frazzled by this guy?

“This is Steve by the way…” he mumbles into an audio message. Hits send, then quickly makes another:

“The… model guy.”

The model guy? What in the flustered hell is going on with him?

A chime notification goes off maybe two minutes after Steve sends the last message. Which is like… hot. Shameless fast texters are a millennial turn-on, for sure.

It’s a voice text, so Steve takes thirty seconds to calm down whatever involuntary throb just happened in his sweatpants. He sucks in some air and presses play:

“Pretty sure all the kids these days just send a ‘u up’ message to people they wanna dick down at midnight.”

Damn. Eddie’s voice sounds totally different, but just as sexy. Like amateur porn sexy. Is amateur audio porn a thing? It should be.

Steve quickly saves the audio file and types back.

Steve: Ok pls don’t mention ‘kids’ while I’m trying to flirt with u

Eddie: Waitwaitwait So we're definitely flirting right now? I actually interpreted that correctly?

Steve: Like u said It’s midnight So… *shrug emoji*

And a phone call comes through. Eddie’s contact name flashing in a harsh light, too blinding and too unexpected. Steve’s heart is hammering at his rib cage, suddenly so fucking nervous. He waits until the last ring to answer, buys himself some time cause god knows, he needs it.

Steve takes a breath and swallows. “He-”

“Okay, so you do realize this is the sewer rat voice actor guy from the commercial shoot, right?” Eddie interrupts, sounds out of breath. “And not like… a fellow model or Timothee Chalamet’s cousin or something?”

That earns a hearty laugh and eye-roll from Steve. “He is so not my type.”

“Thought he was everyone’s type.”

“Nah.” Steve rolls onto his belly, very giddy and disarmed by the ease of the exchange. His nerves are set aside, replaced with his usual confidence. “More into sewer rat voice actor guys.”

“That… is some very specific criteria.” Eddie coughs or maybe it's just a dry laugh. He sounds pleased as hell, so laugh seems more likely. “Holy shit, I’m flirting with a model!”

“You’re cute." Steve should not be so charmed right now, but the impulsive honesty is really doing it for him. "Dorky, but cute.”

Eddie mumbles something incoherent, then clears his throat. Speaks quieter this time. “So why’d you text?”

“So why’d you call?”

“Just, uh… needed confirmation that this is real life.”

Steve lets out a ‘hmm,’ thinks of a proper response to that. “If I was there, I could pinch you. Ya know... so you’d know it’s real.” Okay. Maybe not proper, but whatever. It’s late. His brain is half scrambled from hormones and exhaustion, cut him some slack.

“Would do a lot more than pinch you if you were actually here.” And sure, Eddie might have mumbled that, but Steve clearly heard it. He heard exactly what Eddie just suggested.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, we’re doing this?” Eddie whispers.

Steve turns onto his back again, lets his hand wander down. “If you’re into that. Like hearing your voice, Eddie.”

“Like hearing you say my name like that.” And Eddie sounds like he means it. His tone is smoothing over, the same way it did in the narration. “You sound so worked up already.”

Steve moans, chest falling hard enough that the phone slips. Has to reposition it to get all that good vocal seduction back in his ear.

“God, wish I could see what you look like right now.” Eddie exhales, getting that nice rasp that Steve likes so much. It’s sultry and rich. Breathless at just the right moments. “Bet you’re lying down, aren’t you? Phone wedged between your neck and ear cause your hands are too busy to hold it properly. Am I right?”

“Yeah.” Steve pushes past the waistband of his sweatpants, then his boxers.

Eddie hums. Growls. “The things I’d do to you like that. Lying down, looking so eager to please. Saw how good you are at taking direction that day of the shoot. Does that apply in the bedroom too, baby?”

“It… fuck.” Steve strokes himself slowly. Can barely get the words out cause it feels like he's chewing on Eddie's voice. Swallowing every syllable. “Yeah, it does.”

“See - that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That I don’t know what you’re into. How you like it.”

“Pretty open to… trying things.” Steve reassures, eyes closing to soak in every sensation. “Just keep talking.”

And thank all that is holy, Eddie does just that. He keeps talking. “Can’t stop thinking about that pretty neck of yours. How I’d kiss it, suck on it till your skin goes tender and soft under my lips. Till your head rolls back like it did in that video.”

Eddie's words are syrup. Heavy and tempting. “I’d let you rest it on my shoulder while I get my hands all over you. See what sweet spots drive you wild, get you to squirm for me.”

Steve's grip tightens, pumping at a pace that’s close to getting fucked. A pace that makes it easier to pretend that it’s Eddie’s hand wrapped around him, making his vision blurred and spotty - even with his eyes screwed shut.

“Eddie, you’re… oh my god.” Steve whines, knows it must be pretty fucking loud with the speaker smushed against his cheek. “You’re so good at this.”

Eddie shushes him, sounds like he’s snickering a bit. “I’d tease you like that until your thighs start to tremble. Until you beg me to go further. End the torture.”

“Fucking christ…please.” Guess Steve really is that good at taking direction. Or maybe he’s extra easy for guys that turn his brain into liquor. Too busy begging to know which one it might be. “Keep going.”

Eddie’s laugh is dark and rough. “Sounds nice hearing you beg like that. Like sin.”

Feels like sin too.

Steve’s fingers are slicked nicely with precome. The friction of his palm is making everything warmer, better. And stirring all of those feelings up with Eddie’s voice? Fucking hell, Steve is close. He’s so damn- “Okay, okay. If we don’t stop, I’m gonna-”

“I know.” Eddie purrs, sweetly mean. “Thought that was the point.”

“Cannot believe I'm about to say this, but maybe…” Steve has to dig his hand out from his boxers to complete the sentence. Knocks his head against the wall because his behavior is totally batshit right now. “Maybe I want to see you again first? Is that weird?”

His skin sort of tingles from going this long without finishing. Never solved the blue-balling issue back at the gym either, so Steve’s on the verge of climax insanity right now. Didn’t think he’d discover an edging kink at the ripe age of twenty-five, but eureka. Here it is.

“Not weird.” Eddie’s voice returns back to a calmer one. The one that doesn’t make Steve want to bend over and get fucked so hard that his organs shift around. “I mean, I’m weird, sure. But wanting to complete this in person is not weird. Very un-weird, in fact.”

“You talk a lot.”

“Yeah well… voice actor.” Eddie says, sort of deadpan. “You couldn’t see that, but I just did ‘razzle dazzle’ hands.”

Shit, Steve really likes this guy. He just used the phrase ‘razzle dazzle hands,’ and Steve is still horny for him. Wow.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Steve manages to say before overthinking it.

“Tomorrow-tomorrow, or like today-tomorrow?” Eddie asks. “Cause it’s past midnight.”

Right. Booty call time moves at an entirely different pace than normal time does. “Today-tomorrow. If you’re free.”

“Free as a dead composer’s anthology of music.” Eddie answers happily.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it because what? What does that even mean? Is that a yes or a no? Goddamnit, his head hurts. Too many questions, not enough orgasms.

“Most classical music is royalty-free.” Eddie clears his throat, sounds like he’s tapping on something. “… So yeah. I’m free.”

“Right.” Steve chuckles, hard to believe he’s unapologetically gushing. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“Great. See you today, Steve.” Eddie is still snorting at his own joke while the call ends.

They haven’t sorted out any of the details yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s happening. It’s real.

So real, that he wants an actual date with Eddie before steamy phone sex. He wants to make Eddie laugh before making him come. That's like... unheard of for Steve. Uncharted.

Damn.

Today-tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

#steddie #steddie fic #this is inspired by the unhinged ao3 tag generator #one more part after this #hope that you like it xx

1K notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 6 months

Note

I have a request for you: I'm at the bar with friends but have been sneaking glances at Matt playing pool all night. Friends are like quit staring at his ass and go talk to him. But I'm like no, guys that hot aren't interested in shy, curvy girls. Then to my surprise, Matt comes over and starts flirting. Wouldn't mind it getting spicy. Fic if the muses are with you. She/her pronouns are fine. Thank you for your time.

hi darling!

i'm sorry for getting this to you so late, but I hope you enjoy it 🖤

generous.

warnings: swearing, drinking, allusions to spicyness, matt murdock's ass word count: 1.4k

“Oh come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Are you really asking me, a chronic overthinker, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Because I could give you ten worst case scenarios right now just off the top of my head.”

“So what, you’re just gonna sit here all night staring at his ass?”

“I wasn’t just staring at his ass. He’s got plenty of other nice things to stare at.”

For the last hour, you’d been staring at the mysterious brunette blind man lingering by one of the pool tables with his two friends. You hadn’t even wanted to come out tonight. It had been a hell of a week, and you would’ve rather gotten tipsy in the comfort of your own living room. But now you were thankful your best friend had dragged you out, and to whomever this gorgeous man’s tailor was.

The white dress shirt he wore seemed to strain around his broad shoulders and biceps every time he lifted his beer bottle to his plump looking lips. His maroon tie hung loosely around his neck, the first two buttons undone, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows giving you a delectable view of his forearms. But the real star of the show were his pants. They clung to his thighs like a second skin, and every time he leaned over the pool table, you were presented with the sight of the most amazing ass you had ever seen.

You didn’t know whether to be jealous that yours didn’t have the same curve and roundness or grateful that from your spot in the bar you had the perfect view of it.

“Quit being insecure. It’s not like he can see you.”

“Oh wow, thanks.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You might as well be as blind as he is if you can look in the mirror and not see you’re a knockout.”

Rolling your eyes, you downed the rest of your dry martini, letting the bitter lukewarm gin settle warmly in your lower stomach. Setting down your empty glass on the table, you turned to her and cocked your head to the side, narrowing your eyes into lighthearted slits.

“Do you know how blind people ‘see’? With their hands.”

“What man doesn’t love a good handful of tits and ass?”

The laugh that abruptly escaped your mouth couldn’t be contained by your hand. It was so loud and infectious, it caught the attention of a few patrons around your table. Removing the twist of lemon from your empty glass, you tossed it in her direction with widened eyes, trying to speak through your laughter.

“Jesus, Jess.”

“What? All I’m saying is if I had your curves, I would never wear clothes. I’d walk around naked all the time. And I certainly wouldn’t be so shy about approaching men.”

“Okay one, you do that already. And two, you haven’t been shy a day in your life.”

Setting her glass of bourbon down, Jessica looked at you with a mischievous smirk on her lips and arched one of her dark brows.

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if you go talk to him.”

“You are not bribing me to go talk to him.”

“Well I shouldn’t have to with the way you’re drooling over him. Thirty bucks.”

“I am not drooling-”

“Forty bucks.”

“Jess I swear to-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a firm chest met your shoulder, and you felt a large hand suddenly pressing along your lower back. Glancing up, your eyes widened in shock as you were met with the sight of none other than the beautiful man that you had been thirsting over all night. His soft lips stretched into the brightest and most charming grin you had ever seen, adorned with a set of dimples indenting each of his scruffy cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, excuse me. I think I took a wrong turn on the way to the bar.”

That voice…God, that voice. It was deep and smooth and itched something in your brain you didn’t realize needed to be scratched. You’d definitely be fantasizing about it later reciting particular phrases with your hand between your legs. A light kick to your shin under the table brought you back to the present, and you turned your head to glare at Jessica, finding her staring back at you with an arched brow, motioning her head towards the handsome stranger. You quickly realized that you hadn’t said anything, just sat there gawking at him, and your cheeks flushed with heat as you stumbled over a response.

“Oh…um…don’t worry about it. I get lost on my way home from work all the time, and I only live two blocks from my office. At least you have an excuse.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, your eyes widened in horror, and you immediately started trying to do damage control.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant…I just…I didn’t-”

Your ramblings were cut off by the sound of his deep and hearty chuckle that was melodic and full of pure amusement. His large hand that was splayed on your back, causing your skin to feel scorched from the heat of his palm transferring through the thin material, slowly slid to your waist to give it a light reassuring squeeze, but he didn’t pull away.

“Two blocks away? If your sense of direction is that bad, you’re welcome to borrow my cane.”

There was a hint of a tease nestled within his words that you detected, and it settled the anxiety that had twisted your stomach into knots thinking you had offended him. Letting out a soft breath, a faint laugh left your lips.

“That’s…very generous of you.”

The man’s tongue darted out to wet his plump lips, and the sight was hypnotic. The edge of his mouth curved up into a devilish smirk, and he gave a light shrug of his shoulders.

“I’m Catholic.”

A soft snort escaped you at that, and your brows rose slightly up your forehead as you took a moment to enjoy the sight of this gorgeous man up close.

“Oh, so the generosity is mandated?”

“Highly encouraged. Speaking of generosity, would you mind showing me to the bar?”

That caught you off guard. Blinking a few times, your lips parted to speak, but you abruptly forgot every word in the English language. Jessica suddenly piped up from across the table.

“She’d love to. She needs a refill anyway.”

You were so caught up in being close enough to the handsome brunette stranger to smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne, you had almost forgotten she was there. Turning your head to look at Jessica with widened eyes, silently asking “what the fuck are you doing”, all she did was wink in response and bring her glass of bourbon to her curved lips.

“Well, in that case, I’d love to buy you a drink then. As a thank you.”

The man removed his hand from your waist, and you instantly found yourself missing the contact. He held his large hand out in your direction, that same charming smile plastered on his enticing mouth.

“I’m Matt, by the way.”

Matt. Your new favorite name. You’d definitely be reciting it later in bed while you indulged in erotic fantasies, wishing that your hand between your thighs was his own.

Smiling shyly, you slipped your hand into his, your heart rate picking up at the way he curled his fingers around your palm in a firm but gentle grip. His hand was warm and a little rough but you wouldn’t mind letting him trace every inch of your skin to draw his own map of you in his mind.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.”

The way he repeated your name, like he was tasting it on his lips, had heat burning in your lower belly more than the gin you’d consumed. He gave your hand a delicate tug in his direction, grinning when you followed his silent command and got down from the bar stool. He let go of your hand to slip his arm around your waist instead, bending down to speak lowly in your ear.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejloveb0t @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts @starsm00n @mentallyunstablebish @spiritofthewriter @merleisapartygod @powellssaturn @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil request

347 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 6 months

Text

Transformers reacting to Nipple piercings

Characters: Mtmte Rodimus, ROFB Mirage, TFP Knockout

Warnings: slight nsfw, oral fixation, nipple piercings, hinted smut, piercing care.

If people enjoy this series I might make some others.

Word count 3K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Rodimus masterlist

Knockout Masterlist

Mirage Masterlist

_______________

Rodimus

They couldn't sit still. The fabric of their shirt continued to rub against their skin in an unpleasant manner, ignoring it was the only option at that moment. They sat on Rodimus' desk helping him with reports. "How's your report going Rodimus?" They ask while trying to get in a more comfortable position.

Rodimus sighed in frustration as he reviewed the long list of maintenance reports in need of sign-off. "Not great," he replied. "There always seems to be more work to do than cycles in a solar cycle. I don't know how Megatron keeps up with it all. or how Ultra Magnus can write so much" He offers a rueful smile. "Thanks for helping me plough through these. It's much more bearable with help and company."

Taking note of the fidgeting, Rodimus asked gently, "Is your plating bothering you? I wish we had better abrasives to smooth the rough spots. Being cooped up inside the Lost Light so much can't be easy on your systems." His optics shone with compassion for his human friend's discomfort.

"It's called a shirt Rods, humans wear them kinda like how you bots have plating over your body, And no the fabric is just irritating my skin today, keeps catching on my piercings" they mumble the last part to themself.

A curious look came over Rodimus's face. "Piercings? What in the Pits are those?" he asked.

"They are little decorative pieces of metal we have put through our skin. Some we wear in our ears, nose, lips, eyebrows, it's a little bit of a painful process but they are pretty" they explained.

Rodimus nodded thoughtfully at further explanation on human piercings. "I can see the appeal of adornments, even if the application sounds rather narely," he said. Furrowing his optics, Rodimus peered more closely at their frame. "Hmm, if they're meant to be visible decorations, then why can't I see any of you now?" he wondered aloud. "Are they retractable like transformation seams? Or is human flesh somehow capable of covering them up? Your species never ceases to perplex me with your biological quirks and tricks."

They laugh loudly before wincing slightly. "They aren't always on display, but no we can't retract them but we can take them out. Mine are just under the shirt is all. And feel rather tender at the moment"

"So they come out, huh?" Rodimus responded thoughtfully. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Do you have them on you now under the shirt? Can I see? Do they have lights or are they just metal?."

He tilted his head inquisitively. "Fleshly adornments are such an alien concept to me." Pausing, Rodimus added excitedly.

With a small shake of their head in amusement at Rodimus' curiosity they speak again. "Sure I'll let you have a look." They are quick to discard their shirt sitting there so Rodimus can look. Each nipple has a bar though it with a little ball at each end. Rodimus is overly eager to touch and inspect.

Careful with his touches, Rodimus leaned in slowly for a closer look. "Fascinating," he murmured, optics shining with wonder at the novel modifications. Up close, he was even more intrigued by the symmetrical placements and elegant simplicity of the adornments. Softly, as if handling something incredibly fragile, Rodimus raised a finger and ghosted it above one glistening bar, mesmerised by the contrast of cool metal against warm flesh.

Servo hovering, as always mindful of organic delicacy. Rodimus barely grazed the ball end with his fingertip, amazed by its give underneath hard plating. Cybertronian armour was rigid and unyielding; sensitive inner workings always shielded. He had much to learn about life beyond his kind.

a soft gasp leaves their lips as Rodimus' digit graze against their chest. The piercings themselves were still rather tender, but the soft touch of cold metal against them left goose bumps across skin, they relaxed into the touch. Both their works are forgotten.

Rodimus noted the soft intake of air and sensations rendering their plating sensitive. "My apologies, I didn't mean to make it hurt," he said gently. When they relaxed into his feather-light touch, seemingly soothed rather than aggravated, Rodimus felt his curiosity heightening. The smooth textures and varied temperatures called out to his sensor net to further discern material properties through all means available.

Leaning closer still, Rodimus let his optics dim and his glossa slowly extended, barely brushing one adornment in a tactile sampling. Cool and slick, it traced intricate shapes with an elegance beyond his plated appendages alone.

eyes shoot open wide as they feel the cool touch of Rodimus glossa against the flushed skin, biting back a moan at the pleasant sensation. "Having fun?" They asked in a teasing tone, not stopping the bot from exploring, enjoying the feeling of Rodimus' glossa.

"Frag, sorry, curiosity tends to get the better of me," Rodimus replied lightly, though his field betrayed growing enthusiasm.

He held their gaze, optics half-shuttered, as his glossa traced delicate circles, learning every contour. Something in the way pleased noises were stifled stirred Rodimus's core, spurring his exploration ever onward in a dance of discovery.

Soft ex-vents ghosted warmly over newly sensitised skin, it prickles with more goosebumps as the air brushes the areas he had run his glossa across. eliciting subtle tremors that Rodimus felt to his struts.

They gasp and moan softly as Rodimus softly sucks on the tender skin. "Fuck Rodimus feels good" The young human arches into the touch as Rodimus' other servo slowly teases the other nipple.

Tracing lower, Rodimus' glossa circled delicately, tasting the sweet warmth of their skin through every sensor. His free servo rolled the other nub skillfully, marvelling at how small fluctuations elicited outsized effects.

Ventilation hitched as strange new feelings rose in Rodimus's spark. He focused on their pleasure, marvelling at them. slowly they pull Rodimus back, breathing slightly heavy from the experience. "I think that's enough exploring for one day Roddy, we still have reports to finish"

Rodimus loathes having to release the soft nipple from his intake, it makes Rodimus Rodimus rumbled apologetically as duty calls them back to boring reports. Yet parting from sweet flesh proved unexpectedly difficult after such revelation of how it tasted, It's addictive.

"Just a moment more," he pleaded between languid sucks, unable to relinquish the heady sensations. Never had something like this tempted him so much.

Mirage

Mirage had caught a glimpse of the piercings a few times. Mainly when he had been intimate with his lover, the small metal bars thought their nipples had never escaped his processor, But as they sat together a question lingers on mirages mind. What were they?

"Raj can you grab me a tarp, gonna need it when I do this oil change on This car" they call out.

Mirage processes the request, grabs one of the tarps from the storage area and brings it over to where his friend is working on the vehicle. He sets it down nearby so it's ready when needed.

"Here is the tarp. So..." he thinks back to the memory files of their intimate moments together "I have been curious about those things in your chest. On your nipples specifically. What made you decide to get those? Just something you found aesthetically pleasing? Or is there another reason behind it?"

"My piercings?, I got them as a dare a while back, hurt like a bitch getting them done but I don't really mind them now, until they get stuck on things then they burn, mainly keep them in because I like them" they explain as they move around getting set up to do the oil filter change. Bucket set up under the car.

Mirage listens to the explanation with interest, tilting his head slightly as he processes the words. A playful smirk spreads across his faceplates as his friend mentions the piercings occasionally getting stuck on things.

"Is that so? Well I can understand the appeal of a dare, though personally I think I'm too clever to ever get myself into such a predicament." He chuckles cockily, exuding an air of lighthearted smugness.

"As for liking how they look, I have to agree they do add a certain... aesthetic flair" His optics briefly glance over their body in a subtle once-over before meeting their gaze again with a grin.

"Just be sure not to let those piercings of yours get snagged on any wiring or plating during that oil change. Wouldn't want anything... sticking unexpectedly." He waggles his optical ridges suggestively.

"Let me know if you need an extra set of hands though. Wouldn't want an... accident to occur down there." Mirage offers his assistance in a playfully teasing tone, enjoying the back-and-forth banter as usual.

"Raj! Please, I'm working here! Perv" They call out swatting the bots hand away. They focus in on the car they are under. "Can you pass me the 10mm socket wrench" the call out while setting up their small touch to see.

Mirage chuckles good-naturedly at getting swatted away. "Ah, you know you love it when I tease," he says lightheartedly.

Making an exaggerated show of pretending to pout with downturned optical ridges and a small smirk, Mirage turns towards the tool cart. "Alright alright, no more distractions while you work."

He rummages around briefly before producing the requested 10mm socket wrench. Mirage saunters back over and holds it down for his friend, lover? to take it easily.

Settling back against the wall again, Mirage watches them get to work on the vehicle, angling his helm thoughtfully. "You know, you perform repairs so dexterously." He teases

They work quickly with undoing the oil cap to drain it. But when they lose grip on the small screw they curse. Oil spilling out quicker than expected. "Son of a bitch!" They hiss. Moving quickly after getting oil spilt over them. It makes mirage chuckle in amusement.

Mirage can't help but chuckle in mild amusement as he watches the spat of unintentional spillage. "Well well, looks like someone needs to tighten their grip," he quips lightheartedly, unable to resist the playful jab.

They roll out from under the car, oil covering them, they grumble trying to get the shocked shirt off before more of it could get on their skin or in their hair. And there they are on display again, those nipple piercings mirage liked so much, oil and grease lingering on the skin

Mirage's attention is immediately drawn to the piercings on display as his friend struggles to remove their shirt. His engine emits a subtle purr at the tantalising sight, optics roving appreciatively over the grease-stained form before him.

"Well well, what have we here?" he speaks in a low, smug tone, cocky attitude radiating off him in waves. "It seems our little spill has left quite the...messy situation."

His gaze subtly lingers on the piercings, glistening with oil, before trailing back up slowly to meet thier eyes. A grin plays across his faceplates, brimming with self-assured confidence.

"Need a hand cleaning all that grim off? I'd be happy to...lend a digit or two. And perhaps a glossa too, if you'd like - can't have precious jewellery like that staying filthy now, can we?"

He steps closer, fuel pump thrumming in approval at the enticing view. Mirage oozes smug charm, revelling in the alluring scenario before him. "What do you say...care for some assistance?"

"God you're a nuisance " the huff, but let mirage continue with his antics. Mirage lets out a playful chuckle at his friend's exasperated remark.

"A nuisance, am I? You wound me so." He clasps a hand dramatically over his spark, optics swirling with mirthful mischief.

"But you haven't said no yet..." Mirage points out, emboldened by the lack of outright refusal.

Stepping closer still so they're mere inches apart, he levels his friend with a gaze of smouldering intent, laughter fading to a flirtatious smirk.

"Come now, we both know you enjoy my particular brand of...nuisance. And I do so want to help clean you up properly." His field pulses with suggestive magnetism as nimble digits reach out to gently brush over their exposed skin in a teasing caress.

"Unless...you'd really rather I leave you to your grimy predicament?" Mirage whispers huskily.

"Get me a towel, Raj, then I'll think about it," they state, standing there with a smile as they wait for him to grab a towel.

"As you wish." Mirage's engine rumbles with delighted intrigue as he accepts the challenge.

Whirling on his heelstrut with a flourish, Mirage makes his way towards the storage closet at a leisurely stroll. Rummaging briefly, he selects one of the largest, grease towels.

Returning to his still-grease-laden friend, Mirage holds out the towel with an elegant flourish and a sly smirk. "Well? Have I earned the privilege of assisting further?" he inquires softly,

"Say the word, and I'll gladly help..."

"Trying to get in my pants again?" They ask teasingly before leaning back into the bot's touch, letting mirage help clean up the mess. Mirage chuckles low in his throat at the playful accusation, a hint of arousal mixing in with their humour.

"Guilty as charged." He flashes a roguish grin, azure optics dancing with mischief and desire.

"Can you blame me, though?" Holding their teasing gaze, Mirage leans in to press a kiss to their cheek, his cooling ex-vents puffing against plating still warm from work. "How could I resist such beauty, even coated in oil?"

Knockout

Knockout smirked as he leaned against the medical table, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite lovely little human in distress," he purred, his voice dripping with charm. " I'd ask what trouble you have gotten yourself into, but where's the fun in that? I'd much rather tease you a bit first."

He sauntered closer, his optics lingering "Now, how did this happen, darling? Neglecting proper care for these delicate human chest adornments? It's a shame, I happen to rather enjoy your little jewellery pieces" he chuckled, his tone laced with amusement.

They don't look impressed, looking away when knockout asks how it happened. "Went out on a mission ended up in mud and now they hurt '' they hiss under their breath. "Knockout please I just need some help. I'm not embarrassing myself by going to ask ratchet for help!" They hissed.

Knockout raised an optic ridge, slightly taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm from the human. He couldn't resist a chuckle at their stubbornness. "Oh, darling, you wound me," he replied, feigning a hurt expression. "But fear not, for I am here to help. No need to embarrass yourself."

They continue sitting there uncomfortably while knockout moves around grabbing what he needed. Knockout sets up a dish of salty water with a cloth. His optics flickered with focus as he set up the necessary supplies, preparing to tend to the infected piercings. He approached the human with a suave yet professional air, gesturing for them to remove their shirt so he could properly examine and treat the area.

"Now, now, don't be shy," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "We've got to get a good look at those piercings if we want to fix them up, don't we?"

As the human complied, Knockout dipped the cloth into the dish of salty water, ensuring it was properly soaked. With a gentle touch, he began to clean the infected piercings, his movements precise and careful. "Try to relax," he advised with a soft, soothing tone. "I know it stings a bit, but trust me, you'll feel much better once we've taken care of this."

He continued to work, his optics focused on the task at hand, all the while maintaining a charming demeanour. Knockout couldn't help but let a small smile play on his lips as he worked his medic magic, determined to alleviate the human's discomfort and make them forget their initial reservations about seeking his help.

They sit there quietly avoiding knockouts gaze, as the medic continues cleaning the inflamed piercings. Knockout couldn't help but notice the human's avoidance of his gaze, their quietness speaking volumes. He continued to clean the inflamed piercings with utmost care, his touch gentle and precise. As he worked, he couldn't resist a small sigh, his usual charm momentarily fading.

"Look, I know I can come across a bit... overwhelming," he admitted, his voice softening. "But I want you to know that I genuinely care about your well-being. I may be a Decepticon, but that doesn't mean I can't be a good medic, and primus knows im not letting an infection get you my dear"

With a final, gentle touch, Knockout finished cleaning the piercings and set aside the cloth. He reached for the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the affected area, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Just a little more, and then we'll be done," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You'll be feeling better in no time, I promise."

"Thanks and please don't tell everyone, don't need the whole base knowing about this" they state while motioning to the piercings.

Knockout flashed a charming smile as he applied the cream to alleviate the inflammation around the piercings. "Your secret is safe with me, my dear," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "As much as I enjoy a bit of gossip, I understand the importance of privacy, especially when it comes to matters like these."

He leaned in closer, his optics gleaming mischievously. "But remember, secrets have their price," he teased playfully. "Perhaps a dance or a playful conversation in the future can serve as payment for my discretion."

Straightening up, Knockout took a step back, admiring his handiwork. "There you go, all taken care of," he said, his tone gentle. "Just remember to keep an eye on them and follow the aftercare instructions I've given you. If there are any issues or if they don't improve, don't hesitate to come see me."

"I will thank you again, and I might give you that dance once they heal, but don't expect anything" they reply while pulling on their shirt again.

Knockout chuckled, his optics gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of expecting anything more than a dance, my dear," he replied with a sly smirk. "But who knows? Sometimes, unexpected connections can be quite delightful."

He watched as they pulled on their shirts, "When those piercings have fully healed, you know where to find me," he said, his voice filled with a mix of charm and sincerity. "I'd be more than happy to share a dance with you, no strings attached."

#transformers mirage #transformers #valveplug #rodimus #transformers rodimus #transformers knockout #transformers x reader #transformers x human #mirage #Knockout #mtmte #tfp #tf rotb #mirage x reader #knockout x reader #rodimus x reader #mtmte rodimus #rotb mirage #tfp knockout

324 notes · View notes

somerandomcockroach · 3 days

Text

Ahaha.... so, finished "Till all are one", will just put a few screenshots I liked because who will stop me

Starscream and Bumblebee being an unhealthy in the most healthy possible way married couple... Just... I mean, I'm not sure if Bumblbee is real (like some spark dust) or really is his hallucination, but the way they talk, the way it helps him keep the sanity while he looks insane, the way he is alone once he really leaves

And just sassy Starscream, his fear, the REAL him, OH MY GOD LOOK. LOOK AT IT, I was kicking my legs, I love Starscream being a sassy rat stabbing the backs, so seeing all these was a big surprise... Broken villain, somehow reminds the path Megatron had to path through... (Also, his true design reminded me of a Senator Shockwave haha... I have trauma, just the fact that it reminded me and the fact that it is the TRUE form, and the fact that Senator Shockwave was so close to that form)

BLURR. I LOVED Blurr even before BUT, when you see first hand more of his character. A great owner of the bar that collects all kind of bots and all of them are in peace, he doesn't allow people with bad mind inside. He also has the opinion of most, he wants what they want and speaks for them. Everyone wants the better leader, who will hear them and fight for them, he collected all the people with that opinion, his bar is literally that little heaven

Bonuses Knockout being a lovely husband...

Just Swindle ehehehhe little pretty boy being reborned

The great knowledge of Vortex XDDD

#Till all are one #reading #I'm a slow reader and barely was paying attention to anything lately #But I liked this part ehehhe #The last note from authors gah #Plus Windblade my pretty baby she is GORGEOUS in many ways #ref #for Starscream's true form...

72 notes · View notes

infictionalwonderland · 1 year

Note

okay- so jeremy gilbert x reader, where jeremy is a bit of a player, and has played y/n in the past, when they were in middle/high school, but he realizes that he messed up because he had true feelings for y/n but y/n has moved on and is happier without him, and maybe during his vampire hunter era ? thanks in advance !!

i gotchu girl x

There was a time you would’ve done anything for him, Jeremy knew.

There was a time when a hint of pleading in his voice and a flash of a roguish grin would’ve gotten him anything he wanted from you. Sweet, charming you. The two of you used to be close—when you moved to mystic falls and joined their high school, he’d been the first person to befriend you (you thought he was just about the most lovely boy you’d ever met; he only approached you cause he thought you were a knockout)

Boys and girls alike continued to befriend you and attempt to woo you through the first weeks of your time at Mystic Falls High, and while you responded to the friendships (not the wooing, expect one girl whose smile almost made you collapse) very enthusiastically and amiably, no one could seemed to beat that Jeremy Gilbert, the sweet as sugar boy who made you actually enjoy coming to school.

But too much sugar causes cavities, in time.

Jeremy was apparently a known player although you’d always wave off that notion with a scoff, you’d never so much as seen him with a girl! What rubbish. Whenever you were around, he was always on your arm, making you smile and laugh as bright at the beaming sun in the sky. Making your heart stutter and flutter with each boyish grin and the raspy depth of his voice, and like a fool, you fell right into his awaiting arms.

Before Jeremy, you had kissed people just not necessarily with such passion or meaning—both of which he pulled from you with practised ease. He was your first everything (pretty much) and he assured you that you were also his firsts—fucking scumbag.

One by one he plucked away of those experiences and you were more than happy to let him to so, a glance at him was all it took and you were beyond gone. But you had thought you were both gone, his soft lips that you’d familiarised yourself immensely with were always pulled into that smile that you knew your own face mirrored, and in his shockingly muscular arms, rested upon his chest, you’d felt nothing but security and bliss.

Until you didn’t.

There was no explanation to his actions, one moment he was spending his time with you in your home—affectionately greeting your family and in that sweet sweet routine you both had which you adored with your whole heart.

And then. . well. He stopped messaging you. He never showed up (he’s probably just busy, Mom said—he did have a summer job, you had tried to reason). So you went to the grill, where his summer job was and there Jeremy, your Jeremy, was. Standing behind the bar, the uniform clinging to his muscled body with a shark like grin on his face, looking at the trio of girls in front of him like they were his prey. Long gone was that sweet smile that curved up on his lips beautifully, that expression so sugary, when you kissed his skin you practically taste the sweetness—the hidden message, drawn into the mass of sugar and honey and all things saccharine.

He glanced your way from a few seconds, evidently catching sight of you, and just have you a too short nod with that same predatory grin; no tells of fondness, of the memories that you were sure were embedded so deeply into your own skull (and heart) they would never fade.

There was a time were you would’ve done anything for him, Jeremy knew that—he was so aware of the fact it haunted him almost every day.

Haunted him through the careless glances you gave him in the halls of your shared school or pathways of your town. Haunted him through the unabashed tune of your laughter, a sound which he used to be able to cause all the time. Haunted him through the deep and genuine grins you were wore, unaffected by him and his lack of presence in your life.

He had fucked up.

So so so bad.

But now his life was even more fucked up, original vampires killing you his family members every other week, his sister being one of those vampires—and—and now, he wanted to kill them all, kill his own sister because for some godforsaken reason the universe thought that he, Jeremy Gilbert, should be a vampire hunter.

What a joke.

And now. . all he wanted was for you to hug him, to kiss him, to comfort him through all of this. To tell him you loved him, tell him everything would be okay, tell him you’d keep him safe, cherish him.

He craved those things so much his heart ached his chest—but it was his fault.

It’s not as though you’d chose to leave because you longer wanted to tell him those things, to hold him against your chest, to have him in your life. . he had left you, of his own accord, and now he was paying the price.

He watched you now, from behind the bar at the grill, messily and carelessly wiping down the surface; it was karaoke night and your friend was up on the stage singing some song he couldn’t recognise but you—you were smiling so brightly from your seat in your booth he was blinded and yet also unable to look away, you and your other friends were unabashedly singing along with her and laughing throughout, dancing faintly in your seat.

You looked so fucking happy, he felt his heart pound and break at the same time.

“You messed up, man.” Matt said bluntly as he noticed where his gaze had gone to.

Yes.

He very much fucking had..

#jeremy gilbert #jermey gilbert imagine #the vampire diaries #jeremy gilbert x reader #jermey x reader #jeremy x you #jeremy gilbert x y/n #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #the originals imagine

533 notes · View notes

fieriframes · 9 months

Text

[It's just one of my favorites. I love it. [ Indistinct conversations ] New York City is a phoenix rising from the ashes. I mean, this could be any club in L.A. in a heartbeat. It's not a rough, redneck bar.]

#s18e01 neighborhood knockouts #guy fieri #guyfieri #diners drive-ins and dives #new york city #rough redneck bar #indistinct conversations #l.a.#favorites #phoenix #ashes #club #heartbeat

1 note · View note

borbygorlinbbqworld · 4 months

Note

I loved the boss story. Would be cool to expand a part 2 with the reader and Nolan 👀

Please find Part 1 on my page!

---

Thanks, Boss! 2

The wedding reception had been wonderful. Kate's coworker had written an amazing, romantic speech about his bride to be that had admittedly brought her to tears. She blamed the hormones from recently having her quadruplets, but a part of her suspected it was a bit more than that.

Her boyfriend, Chris, had abandoned her at the dinner table to keep doing shots at the bar. Not that unusual from every night he was home with her, honestly.

"Mind if I take a seat?"

Kate looked up to see her attractive boss, Nolan. His broad shoulders filled out his suit nicely, but it was his warm smile that did it for her. She moved her purse from the chair next to her. "Not at all, please."

"I don't mean to sound inappropriate at all, being your boss and all. But you look absolutely stunning tonight, Kate."

Her cheeks heated.

She didn't have the heart to tell him what a nightmare it was trying to find a dress to contain her massive breasts; breastfeeding quadruplets had left her popping out of an M Cup on a good day, and the dress she wore tonight was barely hanging on. Even the nursing bra she wore underneath creaked, as if threatening to tear.

Worst off, she had pumped not long before getting to the wedding, but her breasts felt fuller by the minute.

Yet she never felt embarrassed about any of that when she was with him. Nolan had a calming and understanding presence about him that was genuine and made her feel safe.

The way a man ought to make his woman feel.

"Chris is a very lucky man." The comment sent a heat through Kate, and her breasts throbbed with fullness. Nolan tilted his head to the side. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At the bar, getting shots." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He doesn't seem to think he's so lucky. Tied down to a woman with four children, after all."

"His children."

Kate shrugged. "He doesn't care."

Nolan shook his head and raised his glass of pinot, gesturing for her to do the same. "Well, cheers to his knockout of a wife that he doesn't deserve."

She couldn't help but snicker. She cheered him with her own wine, and they both took a sip.

"He really doesn't know how damn lucky he is."

Kate looked back at her boss. His large brown eyes were deep, soulful, and a slight rouge glazed his cheeks. No wonder he was being so forward; he was a little intoxicated.

"He's not that lucky, Nolan..."

He shook his head. "I disagree."

Kate snorted and put her hands on her hips. The action jostled her breasts, and for the first time, she noticed her stoic, super polite boss stare down at them. Yet unlike when other men stared, she didn't want him to stop. His pupils dilated, which made her nipples harden with arousal, something she knew he could see through her thin nursing bra.

The longer he stared, the more she noticed how wet she was getting. She remembered just how much milk he had drank from the bottles in his office; would it be too much to want him to grab her breasts and feed right from the source? To want him to fill her with children?

Holy hell, she was horny for her boss!

Blushing, she tried to turn the thoughts by looking away. Still, his gaze was warm and inviting, and it felt awfully nice to be wanted by someone like him.

"How do you figure Chris is lucky?"

Nolan took a gentle sip from his glass. "For starters, his girlfriend has what have to be the most perfect breasts in the world. Massive pillows of comfort with enough milk in her to feed her family and an entire orphanage."

Kate couldn't help but feign offense. "An orphanage?!"

He was right of course; as it was, she could feel the nursing bra she was wearing digging tighter and tighter as she filled up with more and more milk. Blue veins pulsed the surface, begging her to nurse or pump, or else the tight red dress she was in was going to be dripping. Yet she couldn't help but stare back as Nolan continued.

"You donate your excess milk to children in need at hospitals because you adore kids. If the hormones you give off all the time are to be trusted, you want a hell of a lot more of them, too."

Right again. Her cheeks flushed. "I want to have like... eight..."

A playful, almost naughty smile played upon his lips. "Eight kids, or eight more kids?"

Good God, with how lusty his voice was, she didn't know anymore.

"If it were me," Nolan continued, "I wouldn't have made my girlfriend who just gave birth to quadruplets go back to work unless she wanted to. I would have made sure she and our kids had everything they needed while we continued to build our family with plenty of breastfed children. And, as long as she was okay with it, I would make sure she was always pregnant."

Oh fuck. Kate tried crossing her legs to hide the fact that her panties were soaked as she stifled a moan. Her breasts felt so incredibly tight in the bra and dress, it was hard to breathe.

"I can't lie, seeing you pregnant at work was a massive distraction for me, Kate. You're like a fertility goddess tantalizing me, because I know I can't have you anywhere close to how much I want you."

Suddenly, with the sound of two snaps and a slight tearing sound, Kate lurched forward under the weight of her breasts as she let out a moan.

Looking down at them, she realized the clasps on her nursing bra must have broken completely under all the extra weight of her engorged breasts. And when they did, her cleavage came spilling out, and her dress had ripped to make more space for her massive mammaries.

But she didn't care. Her nipples were hard from arousal, and the dark pink meat from her areolas were spilling out from the dress. Everything Nolan had said excited her, and her body was ready.

"I knew you were looking a little full." He smirked, but stared down at her breasts affectionately. "Do you want my jacket to cover up?"

She shook her head and got to her feet, her freed breasts jostling and audibly sloshing around the milk. She took his hand and pulled, leading him away from the table, ignoring the stares she got from others who had noticed her dress mishap.

"Everything okay?"Nolan asked once they had gotten to the parking lot.

Kate nodded, the action finally making one of her nipples pop out. Cherry red and dripping, she knew her boss would stare, and she was right.

"I choose you."

"Hmm?"

"I am so horny, Nolan. For you, for that life that you want. I need you to get me pregnant. I need you to keep getting me pregnant, even if it means twenty or thirty kids." There was no room for embarrassment anymore. She pressed her massive leaking breasts against his chest and looked up at him pleadingly. "Please?"

He took her engorged mammaries in his hands and gently massaged them. Each time his fingers hit a gland, a spurt of milk dampened his shirt until he was near soaked.

"Poor thing, you're so full..." He leaned down and lapped at the small river her breast had made as Kate let out a load moan. "Did you need me to nurse on them while I fuck you in the car?"

----

🐮❤️

#lactation kink tw #massive breasts #smut #tw lactation kink #breast expansion #huge natural melons #huge cleavage #mommy milkers #writing #big tiddy committee #dirty pillows #huge tiddies #big tiddy wife

120 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 6 months

Text

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 20 - ‘You’re Mine’

“C’mere yeah? Don’t be silly.” Trent pulled you towards him in a direction away from the bar and other people.

“I’m not, it’s just still weird sometimes for me that’s all. I don’t think you understand.” You said in much more of a serious tone than he was expecting, shaking your head refusing to look him in the eyes.

“You actually upset right now?” He probed as his brows furrowed confused that you’d be jealous over him taking a picture with a fan especially after he just told you all the things he had planned to do with you once you got to the bedroom. It didn’t usually phase you. You’d oblige and happily take the photos for fans knowing you’d be the one sleeping next to him but seeing women touch him in front of you so blatantly stirred something inside you a lot more recently.

“No, but if random men just stopped me for pictures while I was out with you and had their hands all over me… would you be happy with that?” You snapped back spelling out the reality of why this did bother you a little. Imagining the roles reversed sent Trent’s brain spinning.

“They’re not all over me...” He paused looking into your eyes trying to assess if a fight was unfolding. “Men aren’t fucking touching you. That’s not happening is it? These girls… nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’s me and you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your hair trying to calm this conversation down. You didn’t want to fight back, explain to him that ultimately it was starting to bother you how anonymous you were. A fight wasn’t a good idea in the middle of his tournament, out with other people, away from home, drinks involved it just wouldn’t end well so you bit your tongue.

England was hosting a party for the families before the knockout stages began that night and the boys were granted a few days off. You weren’t nervous per say but it definitely stressed you out thinking about potential conversations about your relationship. How vocal was Trent about you to his teammates? You were uneasy at the thought and uncertainty. For some reason the anonymity of you to the public was starting not to sit right. It was some comfort that Jobe was also with you, it kind of diluted the fact you were walking into an event with two players that had curated quite a cult following online, knowing the team followed them religiously with cameras. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that helpful to come with Jobe because he was falling into their wake, he just was too young for people’s focus to land appropriately yet but it was coming in slowly. Despite your apprehension, your worries were pushed aside as you eased through conversations, Trent kept you close. He did talk about you to everyone. Everyone on the team knew of you. You knew he was proud to call you his, you knew he was just saving you from a media onslaught. It was later into the evening when you really let your angst earlier go and just relaxed. Everyone there had the same worries about The Sun or Mail running wild with stories about them, you weren’t something special. Sure, maybe you and Trent teed up perfectly for a sleazy article but it was fine, you were overthinking things and you were there to support T no matter what it meant it created for you.

Bukaya Saka had picked up a big following on TikTok the second he created an account… as expected. He was filming asking the team questions throughout the tournament. One big topic he was posting a lot of was asking what players were listening to. He was running about the party tonight filming another video only now including friends and family. His iPhone flash on, asking if you could name one song for the tournament, what it would be. Harmless.

“Saks!” You said with a big smile his phone’s flash illuminating every pore on your face as you stood next to Jude stopping your conversation about something mundane momentarily.

“What we saying? Song of the tourney?” Bukaya asked with the light still absolutely blinding you in the dark night. You gave an answer but he wasn’t happy with it.

“Nah, not having that. You two need time apart, you can’t pick the same song as him, give me another one.” He pushed implying that you had seemingly chosen the same song Trent had.

“Just in general? An all time song or a new one right now?” You peppered him with questions trying to stall to think of a good answer.

“Why’d you need so much information, cuz, answer it.” He sighed in frustration, throwing his head back dramatically.

“I feel like you’ll be disappointed regardless!” You over exaggeratedly complained.

“You've been catching up though you know… little Dave, you love Professor X” Jude squeezed your shoulder butting into the video laughing. “You've been doing good learning the UK classics.” He was teasing you but it was also true. So many boys in your life; Jude, Marcel, George, Curtis… they all enlisted and pressed so hard to ‘teach’ you the staples you had to know.

“Just give me something, America.” Bukaya teased still pushing for you to give a better answer.

“Fine, fine. I’ll give an artist I listen to a lot. Even been approved in my house.” You giggled at how silly this all was. “I’ll give you a New Yorker too, any Dusty Locane. I think you’ll like it.” You answered knowing you had introduced Trent as well and he was down.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll take it.” He was finally satisfied.

“Now get that light of my face, please! I’m blind now.” You pushed your hand to cover his camera but the video still caught your voice. The video cut to someone else’s answers. He posted an edited version of the conversation to make it shorter but the TikTok definitely included you and people were certainly interested in your cameo.

‘Tell me right now who that American girl is with?’

‘Bro Alexander-Arnold’s girl being American threw me’

‘The way my head spun when she opened her mouth’

‘American is leng, who’s is that?’

‘Dusty Locane was a wild shout. What a gyal’

Comments came piling in about your accent, nationality, leading to people pulling videos of times they’d met Trent trying to see if they’d be able to make out your voice in the background when you had been there. It wasn’t a secret but it shook people up trying to work out how the two of you connected and make a story out of it. In turn and in usual fashion, articles began to bloom across the internet…

‘Transatlantic Trent, The England star is apparently dating an American!’

‘Everything we know about the secret relationship the Liverpool and England player has with a mystery American’

‘She’s American! More about the England international player’s girlfriend revealed’

‘Who is the American at the at The Euro’s cozied up with Trent Alexander-Arnold?’

You sat with Dianne watching the semifinal. The whole tournament seemed to buzz by and you lost track of the days hiding in a hotel, barely able to see Trent, hounded by media, stories continually published making up BS about you. They didn’t even have your name yet they wrote like you’d personally given them an autobiography.

“Going to be alright.” Dianne confirmed her hand coming to pat your thigh. “There’s always a flare up and then it’ll die out.”

“I’m sorry.” You softly said watching the opposition goalie make an easy save.

“For what? Being you? You didn’t do anything hun. People love to fuss over little things. We’ll be alright.” She tried to console you.

“I don’t want to make things more difficult for him.” You shyly said worrying about the implications. The way the internet obsession may be weighing on Trent.

“You’re not. The only thing he cares about is if you’re okay. Yeah, hun?” Still trying to reassure you.

“Yeah.” You repeated her words but not with the same conviction or belief. You winced as Trent made a tackle, the balling going out of play. You sat on your hands to try to stop the nerves. You could feel the rise of your rings under your body. Your legs were shaking when the whistle finally blew for half time. People milled about but you and Dianne stayed put. The media had really ramped up the attention on you but true to the plan, you, Trent, his family, and his PR team gave nada.

You sat quiet as the last seconds of the match ran out and England advanced. The Euro’s Final arrived and you felt absolutely sick. It ended with an England defeat. You felt like your heart had shattered seeing the boy you loved more than anything in the world lay on the pitch in front of you crushed. His jersey pulled over his head. The look on his face had you trying to hold back tears. You were distraught for your T.

It was not a fun night. Trent’s sadness progressed into him just being pissed. You had never really seen him as angry as he was right now. You sat quietly holding onto his hand in the car. Not a word exchanged when his head fell on your shoulder with a sigh. You could see his skin pinch together as he shut his eyes tight.

“I know…” you whispered, pressing your lips to his temple, brushing your hand over his head.

“I…I c-can’t…” he couldn’t get words out. It was so silent back at the hotel. He had to go on the flight with the team, stand in unity despite the loss so you couldn’t even travel home together. You were set to reunite back at your house. You just felt lost anxiously awaiting until he arrived. You didn’t want to ask any specifics about times, you had a general idea from his updates but his texting was sparse. When he did come into the house it was like the sun disappeared. It felt dark, it felt cold, it didn’t feel like your happy home when he was like this. You let him mope about waiting for him to come to you… and he eventually did. You sat on the couch on your phone, a silly romcom on tv in the background.

“What’d you watching…” he asked but it was so meek it barely sounded like him.

“Nothing, you want to watch something?” You asked your heart beating out of your chest, almost jumping at the chance to talk to him. You started to get up when he moved towards you and slumped onto the cushions and you.

“Nah, can you stay here please.” His arms wrapped around your waist, his head coming lay in your lap, his body curled to fit on the couch. You only hummed. He just shut his eyes and layed there quiet while you scratched his back. Your nails gliding up his spine and back down again, tracing little shapes and figures under his t-shirt.

“I missed you.” He mumbled into the material of your sweats nuzzling his face in further, his arms wrapping tighter around you.

“Yeah? I missed you too, baby.” You cooed, trying to suppress the smile. You knew it wasn’t good he was this upset but knowing he needed you felt good.

“So much” he said so quietly you barely could hear it.

Ever since Trent got back from the tournament he was so clingy. He followed you around like a puppy dog. Asking to cuddle with you constantly and you let him. You were headed on your holiday soon and you wondered if he was going to be like this the whole trip. If the loss would really shake the group. You all agreed to go regardless but the thought of Jude and Trent sitting in silence refusing to go to the beach because they’d be in a bad mood burned in your brain. Your best friend was flying in tomorrow and you were happy but you were simultaneously plagued with worry about T.

You found yourself on the couch, another film, your fingers rubbing his back gently again, scratching his skin softly. He’d shiver every once in a while sensitive to the touch, groan or mumble something incoherent about the plot, and then dig deeper in your lap. You just smiled, placing kisses on him. As it got later in the afternoon though you’d had enough, it was time to move your bodies, you had to pack, you needed to eat a vegetable and not just lay in this feeling of defeat. He couldn’t do this to himself.

“Baby… Pretty boy, come on.” You cooed, taking your hand off his back and dragging it up to brush over his raised cheekbone.

“No.” It sounded a little harsh and you felt his body tense but he relaxed a millisecond later. “Wanna lay on you.” He whined trying to nestle further into you which at this point was physically impossible.

“Come on, yeah? Let’s go eat some lunch out in the garden, get some air. Hmm?” You sang to him pressing soft kisses all over his face.

“Baby..” he grabbed at you with little strength.

“So needy T.” You giggled teasing him. He only hummed at your hands running back over his shoulders, your nails dragging down his back. “Gonna get up for me?”

“Mmmhmm.” He hummed pulling himself up but leaned his whole body weight onto you immediately again. His head resting on your shoulder. His hands caressed over your body before coming to play with the little clovers of your Van Cleef necklace.

“You remember when I gave you this?” He whispered. His eyes looked so sad it hurt your heart.

“Of course.” You smiled at the memory sitting in his then foreign room at the time in his mum's house. He looped his finger under the necklace and pulled a little causing your head and neck to move, your lips coming to now press against his.

“I want that back.” He murmured.

“What?” You asked unsure what he meant. What did he want back?

“The nativity that I could just keep you all to myself. Like the whole world wouldn’t become as infatuated with you as I am.” He babbled a little bit, his lips ghosting over yours.

“They’re not… but I understand the sentiment. I’m always just yours though, T….” You paused anxiously rethinking if it was true. “Right?”

“Mine, baby. Want everything with you. Hmm?” A smile formed on his face. You hadn’t seen it in awhile. It was hard to forget how beautiful it was but everytime it still amazed you just how pretty he was.

“Everything?” A smile pulled on your lips now seeing his.

“Yeah, everything.” He confirmed pulling you in for another kiss. Before you could get to the kitchen to even consider what you might have for lunch, Trent pulled you onto his lap. You straddled him, your legs on both sides of him, his face directly in front of yours.

“You know I want everything with you… the lot. Build a whole life with you.” He talked slowly as you watched his lips move. You draped your hands around his neck, your nails scratching gently on his skin again.

“I want that to. You know, T?” Placing a soft kiss to his perfect lips.

“I mean it.” His hands started to caress your back under your shirt drifting higher up.

“And so do I.” You clarified. You both were beating around the bush about the pregnancy comments you had yet to address. You could feel the tension rise in the air as well as his dick beneath you. You initiated a pretty messy makeout that progressed to pulling both of your shirts off. His hand gripped some of your hair, grabbing at the nape of your neck and pulling your head backwards. He followed your mouth, biting onto your lip then pulling away. His kisses returned and trailed down over you and then sank onto a particularly sensitive part of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hard. You moaned in response, you could feel his tongue massaging over the spot as he continued to suck. You hissed in pain but also pure delight when you felt his teeth bite against the spot. He worked his way down to your exposed chest. He squeezed your tits lost in the feeling, loving how they looked. Your tits under his huge hands was just his favorite thing but he couldn’t stop the intruding thought of if they’d change when you got pregnant.

“You’re perfect, do you know that?” He asked pulling away eyes focused on your tits only to hear you hum in response. His hands drifted off them and his hands gripped your waist harshly as you grinded your now wet core on him. His hands softened though as he moved them over your stomach. “You’ll look so perfect pregnant.” The words fell out of his mouth, you stopping immediately in shock.

“What did you say?” You did hear what he said, but you wanted to hear it again to make sure you did hear it right. Was he being serious? He hummed, pulling you into another kiss but you just as quickly pulled away. “T…”

“Yeah, you heard me. You’d look so sexy.” He cooed. His eyes were locked on yours. He was very serious. This is not how you thought this would come up again.

“Oh yeah?” You started to giggle, a little flattered but also out of pure shock. “Is that what you want? You want to get me pregnant?” You asked, still giggling looking at him.

“Baby” grabbing your face now. Your giggles stopped almost instantly. “I’m so fucking serious right now. I want that.”

“Are we really having this conversation?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah…” he looked at you confused in why you were hesitating.

“Can I put my clothes on? I thought we were like messing about.” You said shyly.

“No, I like you like this.” He let go of your face, his hands back on your body caressing your skin.

“T… this is serious” you tried to explain.

“…and I’m serious. I’m serious about you, about us, I want a baby with you. Do you not want that?” He asked so blatantly, he looked hurt, offended, the look of defeat back on his face.

“No…” you mumbled. His hands dropped from your body immediately. “No, no, not like no. I meant ugh.” You sighed frustrated at how your words were coming out. “I meant no, yes, of course I want that. I didn’t know you did or if what we said in bed months ago was serious, I don’t know I was scared.” Your head fell onto his chest. You felt so vulnerable.

“I know, baby. I didn’t know either but I’m tired of pretending that’s something I’m not thinking about every time we have sex now. Yeah?”

“Yeah…” you muffled into his chest.

“C’mere. I really want a family. Do you want that?” He asked, pulling your chin up to look at him. His face looked so perfect, his lips in a little pout, his eyes glistening, his skin glowing.

“I want a family with you.” You confirmed. “After Greece, can we have a proper chat about this? I don’t want to rush this, baby. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Like embarrassingly a lot but we need a proper discussion. I didn’t know if you wanted this too.” Confessing you were also really wanting this.

“I told you I want everything with you. I mean everything. I want to have kids with you. I want to have a family with you. I want it all with you.” You got shy at his words again and hid your face in his neck. “What’d you being shy for? C’mere.” He started placing kisses all over your exposed skin. “Think you would make the most perfect mummy, yeah?” He started to giggle in between the kisses.

“T…” you whined your lips rolled into a pout at how cute he was. His eyes completely lighting up at the idea.

“Would you wanna be a mummy?” His hands came to rub over your stomach as he started to laugh a little again.

“To your babies?” You looked directly at him now. “Of course. Absolute dream.” You fell into giggles beaming with the idea. You couldn’t wipe the smiles off either of your faces if you tried. You felt like you were going to cry out of excitement and joy.

“After Greece then.” He told you placing a kiss on your lips.

“After Greece.” You confirmed returning the kiss. He hugged you tight to his chest. His hands held you so firmly, he always made you feel so safe. Your cheek squished against his, his facial hair slightly tickling you.

“I love you so so so so much,” you whispered in his ear pressing your lips back against his skin. He hummed squeezing you a little tighter.

“I love you” He whispered back. You wanted to hear him say that for the rest of your life. You cuddled into his warm embrace a little more before he stood up with you still in his arms, picking you up with him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him tighter. You nuzzled your face into his neck pressing soft kisses against his skin.

“What’d you want to eat, my pretty girl?” He cooed, walking with you stuck to him towards the kitchen.

“Wait, T! Wait, I need my clothes!” You yelled halfway there realizing you were still topless pressed to him. You started to giggle and so did he.

“Nah, don’t need ‘em. You’re good just like this. I like you like this” he laughed, continuing on his way to the kitchen.

It was the night before you all left for your holiday in Greece. It was going to be a decent sized group traveling together out of Liverpool. Jude, Jobe and another friend were meeting you there because they were coming from elsewhere. Your bestie, Lauren, was coming and you were giddy with excitement to see her but also after your conversation with Trent you were just generally in an amazing mood and having some amazing sex in the last 24 hours. You hadn’t spent proper time with Lauren in ages let alone gone on a holiday with her. Yeah, this was going to be different than your previous trips you'd taken considering you were now living with your serious boyfriend discussing babies but she could still do as she pleased, she was single, and she loved being single. Lauren was way more outgoing than you and brought out a more… let’s say brave… side of you, for sure. You had met in university and bonded over similar lifestyles and interests. It involved a lot of partying, stupid decisions but built an incredibly trusting loyal relationship. You and Lauren were a match made in hell for men. You filled every vice. Aesthetically, you couldn’t be more different in appearance and in taste. Lauren had a body. She was caked with a face card that never declined. She constantly flirted, it was just her natural state. She was incredibly sweet and nice, she just didn’t have a great filter. You had more of an aura. A little mysterious just given your introverted nature but people were drawn to you. You radiated a glow that had men drooling. You were pretty like a doll, like a model or ballerina. You were clean cut and politely shy… until you were comfortable and you were comfortable with Lauren. She was flying from New York to your house and you couldn’t wait to be back together.

When she arrived you practically screamed running to the front door, even though you had offered to pick her up from the airport. She had visited before but hadn’t seen the house completely finished, lived in yet. You were a little nervous about the trip mixing different groups of people but overall excited. Trent was playing some video game so you and Lauren were upstairs alone packing your bags, re-trying on your outfits for her just to be sure they all hit.

“I literally cannot wait to go out! Like I love Mykonos.. I cannot!” She gushed holding up a practically see through mini dress imagining herself in it at a club.

“I’m honestly just excited to drink and sit in the sun like pleassse.” You whined, throwing a bikini in the Rimowa. “What’s going to be your first drink?” You questioned trying to think of your own answer.

“Can I be basic? I just want tequila, rocks, lime. On repeat.. put it on tap.” She giggled.

“Oooo yeah” you hummed “That sounds so good.” You said when Lauren stopped folding some of your clothes to stand up.

“Well what’s stopping us from starting now! Come on!” This was the problem with Lauren. Her ideas never came with a solid retaliation. You couldn’t find an argument. Why not? You had nothing to do tomorrow but sit your ass on a private plane to Greece. You two giggled downstairs headed to the kitchen when you told her you’d meet her there, you just wanted to tell Trent.

“Baby…” you cooed, stepping into the room walking over to his chair dragging your hands over his chest from behind him before trailing your nails back up. He cocked his head to look at you. He was met with a bare shoulder and was a little confused. So he grabbed at your arm pulling you to stand in front of him.

“Where are your clothes…hmm?” his hand outstretched caressing your body in front of him. It was a little early for you to be getting into anything for bed.

“I was tying on my outfits” you giggled at his touch squirming away but his hand grabbed your waist firmly “this is what I ended up in, I guess.” Shrugging. You were in a little cotton bralette and satin flounce shorts.

“Yeah…? That’s why..?” He was questioning your intention of waking in interrupting his game wearing such little clothing. “C’mere.”

“No, no, no! T!” You squealed when he pulled your body towards his. “I was on my way to the kitchen! Serious!” He didn’t appreciate your resistance so he met you halfway, scooting forward, his face coming to kiss your bare stomach.

“Yeah.. what for?” He spoke against your skin, still pressing wet kisses onto you.

“We’re making drinks… was coming to see if you wanted one, baby” You said, picking his head up off your body, looking for a genuine answer. He could tell you actually were telling the truth so he just slipped his hands around you squeezing your ass, keading it.

“Not now, I’ll come in a little, okay, beautiful girl?” He cooed looking up at you.

“Mmkay baby. Love you” you said, pulling away from him, slipping away from him leaving, before running back into the room to place the kiss on his cheek you forgot. He shook his head at your childish behavior but he was happy if you were happy.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You came rushing in with a silly smile from Trent’s kisses. Lauren was sitting at your kitchen island scrolling on her phone waiting.

“He’s got you down so bad” she said, shaking her head laughing.

“Nah” You tried to deny it poorly.

“Makes me happy Y/N.” She said genuinely leaning onto your shoulder. It was a tender moment placed neatly between your usual nonsense.

You connected your phone to a Bluetooth surround sound speaker, putting on a favorite of you twos. ‘Unforgettable’ French Montana pumped through the big room.

“Stop! Haven’t heard this in a minute.” She said laughing while getting off the stool. “Okay, where’s the liquor?” she said, opening random kitchen cupboards. You pulled on her arm with a big smile on your face for her to follow you into a little enclave down the hall that was a full bar. It was gorgeous marble with gold barware. It didn’t get used a lot but it was one of your favorite looking spaces in the house. “What the fuck!” She gasped with her jaw slacked.

“Honestly... sometimes when I go to make a drink I expect to be getting some cheap tequila. I forget I’m not drowning myself in alcohol at university and am an adult.” You laughed grabbing for a big brown tinted glass bottle of Don Julio 42.

“That never happens to me. I still drink that shit.” You both broke into a fit of giggles. “Not all of us are married to famous athletes.”

“Relax, I am not his wife!” You rolled your eyes at her overzealous comment. God, did that comment get cemented into your brain though… You’d love to be his wife and after the conversation last night you started to think that could possibly happen.

“Give me a plastic cup, a beer soaked floor, an investment banker, and a dollar slice and I’m happy.” She pulled the bottle from you to pour some into a glass you placed in front of her on the marble.

“That’s just not true…” you corrected her. Lauren and you loved a crap bar as much as the next person but you both grew up comfortably, you lived privileged lifestyles, you toyed with expensive shit as if it was nothing. Everything was available to you. It just wasn’t your entire personality. Trent knew everything about you but you kept your upbringing pretty hush since you moved to the UK.

You two had made your way back to the kitchen gossiping, sitting at the island after a few shots, pulling out ingredients to make cocktails after being too drunk for more shots but too sober to drink straight tequila on the rocks. Your plan to make a drink snowballed into you two dancing around the kitchen in scantily clad clothes, drunk off tequila, screaming dirty lyrics to your favorite songs.

It started with you leaned against a counter top trying to assemble the cocktail shaker when ‘Surround Sound’ by JID and 21Savage came on and it ended with you whining on Lauren, you two in fits of giggles. Your asses hanging out of your shorts, shaking. Your hands touching on your body, rapping the nastiest lines. You wouldn’t normally dance so slutty in front of other people, your close friends I.e Lauren, sure, maybe Trent as a joke but you two were just drunk messing about.

Marcel was bringing two of his friends to Greece and they had decided to stay over at yours to make things easy in the morning for the flight. He had a key to the house so he let them inside but was confused when he heard heavy bass vibrating from the kitchen. His friends looked at him for some sort of answer but he shrugged just as confused as them.

You were still throwing it back on Lauren joking when the three boys came into the kitchen. If they weren’t younger boys, baby-brother-like figures to you, you probably would’ve been mortified but instead in your drunk state you squealed excited to see Marcel specifically, running around the island to wrap your arms around his neck, hanging off him.

“What we saying drunk girl?” He joked looking down at you clinging to him.

“You’ll drink with me right? I know you will.” Your words were laced with tequila shots. You had texted Trent to come be with you but he didn’t respond. It made you a little sad but you pushed it out of your mind with more liquor. He saw your text and heard the music but just wanted you to spend some time with your friend before he was back all over you.

You unlatched from Marcel to say hi to the two friends who were a little shocked at the scene and Marcel’s calmness in it. To the boys, there were two older girls, in little clothing, drunk, grinding on each other. To Marcel, well… he was conflicted. This came up a lot with you. You were objectively attractive. He knew that. You were like his sister, he didn’t think of you like that but he couldn’t exactly get rid of the fact that you weren’t when you were like this or in situations like when he could hear you moaning getting fucked upstairs. It was all very confusing for him, it was like his body betrayed him. He loved you like a sister so in turn his confusion transferred and just pushed the narrative of him trying to get with your friends more. It was only natural for a little brother to try to pursue them.

You completely forgot about a night out you had in London after Liverpool had won some championship last year when Lauren and Marcel had gotten handsy in some club with each other after meeting. You saw them look at each other when he walked into the kitchen. They didn’t hook up, you didn’t even think there was a kiss, just some inappropriate touches exchanged. That was kind of Lauren’s thing. She pushed men. She wanted to know she had them in the palm of her hand. Grinding on them, whispering, moaning, trailing her hands down them, dragging theirs up her, licking her lips… She called it women empowerment, you called it teasing. She had successfully gotten Marcel where she wanted him. If she wanted to fuck him, she knew she could, if she didn’t… she didn’t. It made you feel a little differently watching her do it to someone you cared about knowing the play. As she laid her mark again seeing him it reminded you that you hadn’t told Lauren yet, kind of as a joke but also so she didn’t freak out, that Jude was also coming on this trip. Obviously he wasn’t there tonight because he wasn’t coming from England. Jude was probably one of your favorite of Trent’s friends on his own but the wake he left everywhere he went could be a lot. It didn’t affect you but you watched it ensue tucked in Trent’s arms. He was beautiful, objectively incredibly hot but he was younger so you kind of drew the line there. You didn’t really want to think about the other things you knew about him…things you’d seen. Before you even met Trent you had shown Lauren a video of the two boys on TikTok. You lusted after them. The whole country of England did. It was a dangerous pair but so were you and Lauren and you thought you could handle it. It was bizarre now that it could happen in real life so you weren’t sure what to tell her and now Marcel was involved. You were drunk, the whole situation blurred in your brain.

“Picking something good, f’me” you felt your cheeks warm at the sound of his voice. You were leaning over the kitchen island scrolling through Spotify like it was a novel, reading each song carefully trying to build a good queue for everyone who were coerced into drinking heavily. Trent’s hands lacing around you, caressing your stomach, you just hummed, staring at his big hands moving over your skin. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, baby.” If he couldn’t smell it, he could hear it in your tone. You were drunk and he was only aiding and abetting the lustful thoughts about him you got when you were drunk. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and kept them there. “You wanna have my baby?” He whispered laughing jokingly.

“That sounds perfect,” you confessed, pushing your ass back into him.

“Dangerous words to say right now, pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin. He held you in his arms. You were practically stumbling around the house. The night had spiraled. Trent told you he had to go get ready for bed because someone had to wrangle everyone tomorrow to make the flight. So he kissed you squeezing your ass, you bitting at his neck.

“Come up soon. Okay, baby?” He whispered in your ear. You hummed and started to try to leave a hickey on his neck. “Okay, okay, okay. I love you, drunk girl. Make sure you make it back upstairs to your T, yeah?”

“Mmm yeah, baby.” You practically moaned moving back to his lips to get a kiss. Once Trent had left, you decided maybe it was time to wrap things up. No matter how drunk you were, you hated messes so you tried to clean the kitchen up… pretty poorly though.

There were plenty of bedrooms in the house for three boys but they all were slumped on the living room couch refusing to move, watching a rerun of some 90s footie game, they weren’t even alive for. It was weird so you just turned the lights off on them. Letting them fend for themselves until you clocked that Lauren was laying very comfortably in between Marcel’s legs. It didn’t bother you exactly, it wasn’t your place to say who could do what with who, you just didn’t want anything to mess with the holiday or let anyone’s feelings get hurt. So for tonight, you took matters into your hands because of a long travel day tomorrow and dragged Lauren to a guest room knowing she’d complain she didn’t sleep well on a couch hungover tomorrow. You both drunkenly giggled about how bad of an idea it was for her to go near your boyfriends younger brother but a part of you was sober enough to try to threaten her not to touch anyone night one

“Don’t ruin your other nights for something tonight.” You slurred laughing falling on the bed with her. You said it as if that was sound reasoning and would convince her. It wasn’t, it wouldn’t. You successfully got yourself upstairs moving slowly up the stairs carefully holding water and ibuprofen. You peeled the little clothing you had on off in your dimly lit room, trying not to wake Trent but when you saw his bare back exposed laying in your bed, you didn’t really want to put pajamas on… not at all really. You were needy. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, turned the lights off and crawled into your bed cuddling up to your sleepy boy. You started pressing pretty sensual kisses all over him; his back, his neck, his face, just anywhere you could really. He rolled over and hummed a little, waking up some.

“Baby?” He groaned quietly.

“You’re so sexy, T.” You whispered, crawling on top of him, continuing with your kisses. He went to wrap his arms around you instinctively and became very aware you were naked.

“Beautiful, what we doing? Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” He cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Your hand glided over his abs to the waistband of his boxers trying to get to him but he stopped you. “Baby, baby, baby, okay. Come on. Let’s sleep. Come just give me a cuddle.” He asked sweetly.

“T…” you moaned working kisses up his neck. Coming to his ear to whisper. “I want you to fuck me please. I need you.” You were essentially moaning.

“Nah, baby, not like this. You know I don’t like that. Not when you’re this drunk and I’m sober.” His reasoning was incredibly sound.

“Pleasssee, I want you.” You were desperate trying to beg him.

“You’re very sexy, baby and you’re making this really hard.” He sleepily said but you could feel him getting hard underneath you so you started to grind on him, your hips rolling on top of his.

“Yeah? I make you hard?” You drunkenly misunderstood what he said.

“Yes, you do but I’m saying you’re making this very difficult for me right now so please just gimme a cuddle and let’s sleep.” He laughed at your desperation.

“Baby…” you huffed, pressing your cheek onto his bare chest sad about the rejection.

“I’ll fuck you tomorrow, trust me okay? I’m sorry sweet girl. I love you, baby.” He kissed the top of your head.

“T…” you whined once more.

“Shhhh, sleep hmm?” He whispered.

“But T…” you tried once more.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, what is it?” He couldn’t help but smile, he was tired but you were cute.

“I want a family with you.” You whined quietly, your eyes fluttering closed as your head feel heavier on him.

“And I know that, baby. I’m gonna give that to you just not right this second.” He continued to laugh a little.

“What about getting married?” You whispered, starting to fade, lulled by his warmth and slow breathing. Trent’s eyes lit up though.

“You want that?” He asked sheepishly but excitedly. He figured you were being brutally honest right now so he thought he’d ask.

“Mmmm, want that so bad.” Your words slurred together a little so he stopped despite having a million questions for you.

“Okay, okay” he laughed. “I’ll give you whatever you want if you just sleep f’me now.” As he pressed a kiss to your head, smiling.

“Can I stay right here?” He could barely hear your question. It was so soft and muffled against his skin, you were layed completely on top of him.

“Course.” Pressing more kisses to your head.

When you woke up your head was pounding. It was terrible. You stirred still on top of Trent. He was awake stroking his hand up and down your back.

“Good morning, sweet girl.” He cooed. “Gotta get up.”

“I feel awful.” You moaned.

“Yeah, I bet.” He laughed “I’m sorry, how about I get everyone else up and let you sleep a little more than come get you. Yeah?” You could only hum in reply.

He went to wake everyone else up and was met with a very interesting surprise. There were only two boys on the couch asleep.

“Aye, get up” Trent yelled into the living room, the two boys stirring unhappy with the loud call. “Where’s Marce?” Trent asked but was met only with murmurs.

He walked to go wake up Lauren, it was then it occurred to him what had occurred to you. ‘Oh fuck’ he said under his breathe walking down the hall.

“Laur…” he called out. Knocking on the bedroom door before opening it a little. The dark room was lit by some sunlight seeping through curtains. There on the large bed, no blankets, a naked Lauren lying on top of an equally clothesless Marcel. “You’re a fucking idiot, Marce.” Trent said into the currently quiet room.

“Oh fuck…” Lauren hushly spoke. “Honestly, don’t. I know, I know…” Trent picked up a blanket and threw it at them.

“Don’t tell Y/N” Marcel told his brother.

“Don’t tell Y/N? Are you serious? Honestly…” Trent moaned, walking out of the room annoyed. He came back upstairs to you putting the situation he just walked into in the back of his mind.

“You know what you’re wearing, sweetheart? I’ll grab it.” He cooed trying to help you. You hummed telling him you had left a Jacquemus sweat set in the wardrobe to wear. Once you had pulled yourself together you sat on the edge of the bed trying to wake up. “Gonna take your bag downstairs, okay?”

“Kay. Thank you, T” you cooed rubbing your hands over your face trying to feel better somehow. Marcel and Lauren were now clothed in the kitchen and to be fair Trent was surprised that everyone was actually ready. The cars to take you to the airport arrived but you hadn’t come down yet so he went back up to grab you… only you hadn’t moved off the bed.

“Can you carry me?” You whined with a pout.

“Yeah, baby.” He laughed while picking you up under your arms. You wrapped your legs around him, kissing his neck. “Everyone ready?” Trent yelled carrying you down the stairs. There wasn’t really a response. The group all just shuffled into the cars. You felt how weird the energy in the car was when you looked at Lauren. Something was off, you knew she had been with Marcel you could feel it.

Last night, drunkenly, Lauren found herself absolutely freezing in the room she was staying in. She got out of bed and walked to look for the thermostat. With little luck, she went to the living room to see if anyone was awake and would know where it was.

“Marce” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah sort of, sweetheart, what’s up?” Quietly as he was really half asleep still. He slowly pulled himself up and walked round the couch and met Lauren. Lauren was in a little silk camisole and shorts set.

“I’m so cold, do you know where the thermostat is for around here?” She whispered.

“You look pretty cold…” Marcel cheekily said as he glanced over her figure then focusing on her hard nipples under the thin silk.

“Stop!” She tried to quietly squeal, slapping at his bare chest, covering her own. They walked down the hall.

“I thought it was around here but I’m not seeing it…” he paused. “Erm.. you know what come on, you’re staying in here?” He asked, walking further down a corridor to the room. Marcel walked into her bedroom and went immediately into the wardrobe.

“Why do you have so much stuff in here?” Lauren asked as she sat on the bed watching him.

“Usually the room I stay in when I sleepover and I do quite a bit especially when Trent’s away so I don’t know I guess it’s ’my room’ ” he used air quotes before he continued to riffle through a few things before pulling out a jumper of his. “You wanna borrow this?”

“Oh, thanks so much Marce. I’m sorry I took your room though, I didn’t know.” She cooed, leaning further back on the bed.

“It’s no big deal.” He said starting to turn out.

“Marce… do you like to sleep alone?” She asked pretty suggestively.

“Nah, not particularly.” He quietly laughed.

“I really don’t and it’s your bed, would you want to sleep with me, like share?” The question was laced with hidden seduction.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind… I wouldn’t mind” he replied with a similar tone. From there it spiraled from separate sides of the bed, to a loose cuddle, to sexual movements, to kisses, to laying completely on top of one another, to a full a make out… and the rest from there would be graphic. Let’s just say they fucked until about an hour before Trent went to wake them up.

When you arrived at the tarmac to board the plane, Trent indulged you and carried you on board. The crew took all the luggage. You got aboard and were practically ready to fall asleep from the jump, once in the air, Trent saw you squirming trying to get comfortable.

“Baby…sleepy girl, C’mere.” He cooed, gesturing you over to where he was sitting. You slugged your way over and laid on top of his lap, his arms wrapping around you tight, rubbing his hands under your sweatshirt over your soft skin. He held you close to his chest. You nuzzled into him. You hummed in contentment till you dozed off. He placed kisses on you any time you stirred whispering to you. “I got you, your Ts right here.”

•

This was a little rushed so idk… ugh! Swear we have some angst coming though 😳

Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 21 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader

117 notes · View notes