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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months ago

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solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n)

summary: harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it?

words: 6.4k (she's long)

warnings: smut in this one: p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cursing, dirty talk, fingering, creampie.

"Just lay down on the table and relax. I'll take good care of you."

Y/N tried to keep her voice steady and professional as she greeted her new client, the one and only Harry Styles. The famous former athlete turned singer was lying face down on the massage table, a towel draped over his lower body.

Y/N had been a masseuse at this high-end spa for two years, but she had never worked on someone so famous before. She was intimidated but determined not to show it. Treating Harry just like any other client was the only way she could get through this.

"You're the expert," Harry's muffled voice came from the face cradle. "I'm in your hands."

Y/N gulped at the unintended innuendo. Get it together, she scolded herself. This is strictly business.

She warmed up some lotion in her hands and began working on Harry's muscular back and shoulders. Almost immediately, she could feel the tightness and knots from years of intense athletic training.

"You've got a lot of built-up tension in here," she commented, digging her fingers in to loosen a stubborn knot. "What sort of athletic background are we working with?"

"Footie, if you go by my English roots," Harry said, sucking in a sharp breath as she worked a particularly tender spot. "Played striker on an academy team as a kid before my interests shifted to music in my late teens."

Y/N raised her eyebrows, impressed. She had no idea Harry was such a talented athlete on top of his musical skills. Somehow that made her former crush on him even more intimidating.

As she moved down to his lower back, she tried to keep her touches clinical and impersonal. But she couldn't help noticing how toned Harry's body was, the muscles rippling beneath her hands.

Stop ogling him, you're being completely unprofessional! She gave herself another firm mental rebuke.

For a while, the only sounds were Harry's occasional groans as Y/N dug into his tight knots and the relaxing spa music playing softly in the background. But eventually, Harry broke the silence.

"You know, you seem a bit nervous around me. Is it because I'm....well, me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She should have known he would pick up on her awkwardness.

"I'm just trying to stay focused," she mumbled, unable to keep the embarrassment out of her voice entirely. "I don't want to slip up and disappoint an important client like yourself."

To her surprise, Harry let out a low chuckle. "Love, I may be famous but I'm just a regular bloke like any other. No need to be nervous."

His voice was warm and full of humor, putting Y/N more at ease. She realized she had been building him up as some intimidating celebrity in her mind when really he seemed down-to-earth.

Feeling emboldened, she decided to open up a bit. "To be honest, I may have...had a bit of a crush on you back in the day. Your music was a big part of my teen years."

"Is that so?" Harry sounded both flattered and amused. "Well, I'll take it as a compliment from a pretty lady like yourself."

Y/N felt her traitorous cheeks heating up again. Were they...flirting now? She couldn't tell if he was just being charming or if there was real interest there.

She tried to keep things professional as she moved on to his arms and legs, though her lingering shyness made it difficult. Harry seemed to sense it, not pushing things but keeping up his friendly banter that had her laughing in spite of herself.

By the end of the ninety minutes, Y/N was disappointed for the massage to be over. Some of the intimidation had faded, replaced by an easy rapport. Almost as if...they could really be friends, or more, not just client and masseuse.

As Harry redressed and prepared to leave, he paused and gave her a heart-stoppingly charming smile. "Same time next week? I'll need to keep these knots at bay."

Y/N couldn't resist smiling back, a warm flutter in her belly. "I'll be here. It's a date."

Wait, did she actually just say that?! She wanted to cringe at her awkward choice of words.

But Harry just chuckled easily, not seeming bothered at all. "A date it is, then. I look forward to it."

As he sauntered out, Y/N exhaled a long breath. Suddenly, her job had gotten a lot more...interesting.

Over the next few months, Y/N looked forward to Harry's weekly appointments increasingly more. They had fallen into an easy, teasing back-and-forth during their sessions peppered with plenty of flirtatious banter.

At first, Y/N firmly kept things within professional boundaries, no matter how strong her crush was growing. Harry may be a laid back, regular guy, but he was still a client at the end of the day.

However, the more she got to know the real Harry beyond his famous persona, the harder it became not to develop deeper feelings. His sharp wit, endless warmth and care for those around him, and genuine humility all endeared him to Y/N enormously.

For his part, Harry seemed to be growing quite fond of Y/N as well. He playfully requested she work extra hard on his "problem areas" and loved to tease her about her technique and bedroom eyes whenever she was really concentrating. Y/N would pretend to be flustered, but secretly loved their charged back-and-forth.

One week, Harry didn't show up for his usual appointment. Y/N tried not to feel too disappointed, figuring he must have just been busy. But when he missed his spot the following week as well with no notice, she began to worry something was wrong.

"Everything okay with Harry?" she couldn't help asking the spa receptionist. "I haven't seen him for his appointments lately."

The petite blonde receptionist gave her a sly grin. "Haven't you heard? There was an issue with his latest music release, so he's been dealing with that whole mess the past couple weeks."

Y/N frowned, concerned. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about work issues. Then again, she realized they had become so comfortable with each other that she always viewed him through a friend's lens rather than a client's now.

Making a snap decision, Y/N pulled out her phone and drafted a text to the number Harry had given her months ago, just in case she ever needed to reschedule his slot.

"Hey there, just checking in! Missed you the past couple weeks and wanted to make sure everything is alright?"

She hit send before she could overthink it, her heart fluttering nervously. This was wildly unprofessional to text a client like this, even if Harry had become more of a friend really.

To her surprise, Harry texted back almost immediately.

"Y/N! Was just thinking about you, funny enough. I'm so sorry for going MIA, it's been a madhouse with this new album mess. Let me make it up to you with dinner this weekend?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she re-read the text. Was Harry...asking her on a date? Or was he just being friendly and suggesting they grab a bite to catch up? She wasn't sure, but her heart was pounding either way.

Throwing caution to the wind, she typed: "It's a date. Looking forward to it!"

If her massages with Harry had been growing increasingly charged lately, Y/N could only imagine how electric an actual date with him would be...

The rest of the week dragged by interminably for Y/N as she counted down to her dinner with Harry. She agonized over what to wear, settling on a slinky red dress that walked the line between casual date and fancy night out perfectly.

When Saturday evening finally arrived, Y/N felt uncharacteristically nervous as she pulled up to the chic restaurant Harry had chosen. What if she had been misreading everything and this was just a friendly dinner after all? She didn't want to make things weird if that was the case.

But the second Harry opened the door to greet her, looking unfairly handsome in a slick black button-down, her worries melted away. He was giving her the same heated look he got when she was working out a tight knot in his muscles - unmistakably attracted and intrigued.

"You look positively stunning, love," he murmured, taking her hand and giving it a delicate kiss. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, you always manage to blow me away."

Y/N felt her face heating up at his unabashed flattery, her pulse racing. She couldn't resist giving his bicep a playful squeeze.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, popstar. Now are we going to eat, or did you just invite me out to shamelessly flirt?"

Harry grinned wickedly. "Why can't we do both?"

The evening passed in a blur of delicious food, sinfully good wine, and the most scintillating conversation Y/N had ever experienced. She and Harry swapped stories, teased and joked, and delved into surprisingly deep philosophical discussions, all without missing a beat.

By the time they were splitting a decadent slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Y/N felt more relaxed and giddy than she had in years. Despite all her nervous buildup, the date was turning out perfectly.

"You know," Harry began conversationally as he licked some icing off his fork in a way that made Y/N's mouth go dry. "When you started as my masseuse, I'll admit I figured you were just another pretty face hired by the spa. Starstruck and nervous around me because of my image and all that rot."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his words, but Harry grinned teasingly to show he meant no offense.

"But you proved me absolutely wrong in the best way possible, darling. Your skill and your spirit both blew me away. You're always so professional, but with this amazing warm heart and sharp wit just beneath the surface."

Y/N couldn't help smiling bashfully at his earnest compliments. "Well, you hardly made it easy to stay focused and impersonal, Mr. Cheeky Flirtmaster. I'm just glad we were able to become...friends."

She said the last word tentatively, wondering if Harry felt the same growing sense that they had become something more than that recently. His heated gaze and body language said as much, but she didn't want to assume.

Harry seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, his green eyes crinkling at the corners fondly.

"Y/N, I think we both know our 'friendship' has evolved into something deeper, at least for me. I've fancied you for months, maybe longer if I'm being honest with myself. You're bloody brilliant - smart, talented, caring, with a rocking body that drives me spare in the best way."

He reached across the table to take her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. The tender intimacy of the gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"What I'm asking is...would you want to make this official? Give us a real go as more than just mates?"

Y/N felt like the breath had been knocked out of her lungs. She had imagined hearing those words from Harry's lips more times than she could count. But now that he had actually said them, she was temporarily stunned into silence.

Seeing her speechlessness, Harry chuckled warmly. "No need to answer right this second, love. I know it's a lot to process coming from your formerly famous client-turned-mate. Just think it over, yeah?"

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, emboldened by the caring warmth in Harry's eyes. She turned her palm over, lacing their fingers together decisively.

"You don't have to give me time, Harry. I've been crazy about you for ages if I'm honest. Of course I want to give us a real shot. I can't think of anything I want more."

The brilliant smile that spread across Harry's face sent tingles down Y/N's spine. He brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing a soft kiss there.

"Then it's official. We're a couple now."

Y/N felt giddy, like the words were a dream. Her and Harry Styles, the man she'd fancied for years, were entering a relationship together. What were the odds?

"Should we, uh, keep things professional at the spa still?" she asked, suddenly wondering if their new situation would make things weird.

To her surprise, Harry shook his head adamantly. "Actually, I was thinking of finding a new masseuse. I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position having to work on your boyfriend's body every week, tempting as that sounds."

He gave her a heated look and Y/N felt a rush of arousal, imagining all the new layers their massages would take on now.

"Fair point. I don't think I could keep things totally professional anymore either," she admitted with a coy smile.

Harry signaled for the check, keeping Y/N's hand linked with his posessively. "Then it's settled. I'm all yours now, darling. Though fair warning, I'll expect my massages in private from here on out."

The tone of his voice made Y/N shiver pleasantly in anticipation. Oh, this romance was going to be incredibly fun.

***

Over the next few months, Y/N felt like she was living in a wonderful dream. She and Harry were inseparable, their bonds of friendship strengthening into an unbreakable foundation as their passion grew.

They went on romantic dates, attended glamorous celebrity events, and spent long cozy nights together at Harry's place. Y/N felt herself falling harder and harder for the kind, charismatic man who never failed to dote on her or cheer her on.

One evening, Harry surprised her by having a limo pick her up from work at the spa. Y/N raised her eyebrows in amused confusion as she slid into the sleek black car, wondering what her doting boyfriend was up to now.

To her delighted shock, Harry was waiting inside wearing a dashing tuxedo. He held out a rose to her with a warm smile.

"My love, you look as breathtaking as ever. Are you ready for our night on the town?"

Y/N laughed giddily, feeling like a princess in a fairytale as Harry showered her with kisses. "You'll have to tell me where we're going, love!"

"Well, first we have dinner reservations at the city's most exclusive new restaurant. And afterward..." Harry trailed off teasingly before pulling a pair of tickets from his inner jacket pocket. "I've arranged for us to have a private vip loge at the opera!"

Y/N's jaw dropped. She knew Harry took great pride in planning thoughtful, romantic gestures, but she was blown away by this grand occasion. The evening was straight out of a storybook.

"Harry, this is...I can't even put into words," she breathed in amazement. "You are the singularly most incredible, thoughtful man in existence. How'd I ever get so lucky?"

Harry just grinned boyishly, giving her a wink as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You deserve all of this and more, darling. Tonight is just a start."

The rest of the evening passed in a blissful whirlwind. Y/N and Harry sipped gourmet cocktails as candles flickered between them at the restaurant. Their heated looks and brushing footsies beneath the table made the anticipation crackle deliciously.

After the stunning five-star cuisine, Harry surprised Y/N again by hiring a violinist at the opera to serenade them privately in the vip loge while the show played out on stage. He held her close as they swayed to the rich, emotive music, looking into each other's eyes adoringly.

By the time they arrived back home in the limo, Y/N could barely keep her hands off her romantic prince of a boyfriend. She attacked his mouth hungrily as he lifted her into his arms, stumbling inside as they continued to devour each other.

That night was a blur of frantic lovemaking, tearing at clothes and tangling in the bed sheets as release was desperately chased between them. Y/N had never felt so thoroughly worshiped and cherished as when Harry was passionately laying claim to every inch of her body, branding her as his own with his scorching caresses.

"You're everything, Y/N," he groaned into the slick skin of her neck as she writhed beneath him. "My whole bloody universe, all the stars in the sky. Nothing means more to me than you, my perfect girl."

After, when the frenzied haze cleared, Harry held Y/N with indescribable tenderness like she was the most precious thing in existence. Which to him, she absolutely was. Her hands stroked through his sweat-dampened chestnut locks as he pressed fervent kisses to her collarbones, her sternum, everywhere his full lips could reach.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he murmured, more to himself than her as he gazed up at Y/N reverently. "My entire world in these arms."

Y/N had no words, rendered speechless by the depth of love emanating from her man's bright green eyes. So she simply held him closer, letting her touch express everything her heart was too overwhelmed to put into phrases.

Of course, there were still hints of Harry's internal struggles with fame and the immense pressures of his career. The more Y/N got to know him intimately, the more she saw the tightly-wound tension that still crept into his muscles and posture frequently.

It killed her to see Harry in pain or overwhelmed, dealing silently with the weight of Hollywood's demands. So she made it her mission to take care of him, just like when she was his masseuse but in more intimate ways now.

After an especially grueling day of meetings and recording sessions, Y/N would draw Harry a hot bath infused with relaxing essential oils. She would gently undress him, unable to resist pressing soothing kisses along the protesting knots in his shoulders and back. Harry would let out deep rumbles of pleasure at her therapeutic touch.

One draining evening after he had done promo interviews all day followed by a high-energy concert, Harry came home to their penthouse utterly spent. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, shoulders hunched under the weight of his weariness.

Taking one look at her love in such a depleted state tore at Y/N's heartstrings. She quickly sprang into action, knowing just what he needed to recharge and find his center again.

"Go have a long, hot shower, babe," she murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Harry's furrowed brow. "I'll take care of everything else."

While Harry dragged himself to the bathroom, Y/N set about creating the perfect soothing atmosphere in their bedroom. She dimmed the lights to a warm golden glow and lit a few spicy aromatherapy candles. Then she pulled out her professional massage table and arranged it with all her favorite oils and lotions.

By the time Harry emerged from the steamy bathroom wearing nothing but a plush robe, Y/N had the space utterly transformed into a private spa oasis. Soft nature soundscapes played lightly in the background, blending with the flicker of candlelight to create an ambiance of pure tranquility.

Harry's brow unfurrowed slightly as he took in the scene, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're too good to me, darling," he rumbled in that gruff, sleepy tone Y/N adored.

"Mmm, not possible," Y/N assured with a soft smile, helping Harry shrug off his robe so he could climb onto the table completely nude.

She warmed up some of the aromatic sandalwood oil between her palms before beginning her sensual ministrations along the perfect terrain of Harry's back and shoulders. His tight muscles instantly began loosening under her skilled touch.

Harry let out a deep, relieved groan as Y/N's strong hands found each knotted snarl and gently worked them loose. He practically melted into the table, boneless and pliant beneath her.

"S'why I love you so much," he slurred, the profound tension seeping from his body. "Always know just how to take care of me, dove."

Y/N hummed in contentment, leaning down to press a line of soothing kisses along the dips of Harry's spine. Between her mouth and her fingers spreading hot oil into every bunched muscle group, he was soon utterly liquid and relaxed.

This went on for almost two blissful hours, Y/N taking her time to reverently cover every last inch of Harry's body in her healing touch. At one point she gently turned him over to tend to his chest, abdomen, and the handful of other areas he accumulated strain.

By the time she was finished, Harry was borderline unconscious - eyes hooded, face perfectly lax, breaths coming in deep and even pulls. Y/N trailed one last stroke down the miles of inked and toned skin he had exposed to her. Her beautiful boy, wholly at peace once more.

Pressing tender kisses to each of Harry's closed eyelids, Y/N carefully covered him with a plush duvet before slipping out of the bedroom. As much as she would love to stay and watch over him, she knew he needed to fully surrender to restorative sleep now.

Y/N headed to the kitchen, deciding to prepare one of Harry's favorite home cooked meals for when he woke feeling replenished and ravenous. As she moved around the space chopping vegetables and searing chicken, her mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the wonderful man in the other room.

She felt so unutterably lucky to be the one person in Harry's life allowed to take care of his weary body and soul in such an intimate way. All the fame, fortune, and success in the world was meaningless to Y/N, compared to earning his unwavering trust and being able to soothe away his struggles whenever they arose.

When Harry finally padded into the kitchen a couple hours later, he looked noticeably refreshed and at peace. There was a soft, dazed expression playing on his features as his bright eyes landed on Y/N in an oversized shirt cooking away.

"There she is," he rasped in that deep, gorgeously gravelly morning voice of his. "Most beautiful sight in the world."

Y/N grinned, warmth blossoming in her chest at the open adoration on Harry's face. Even after going through a draining day, he still couldn't help being an outrageous charmer with her.

"Did you get enough beauty sleep, love?" she teased lightly, moving across the room to wind her arms around his trim waist.

Harry hummed in contentment, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. He inhaled her familiar honeysuckle scent deeply, as if letting the aroma soothe his very soul.

"More than enough. I feel reborn, all thanks to you taking such incredible care of me as always." One of his large hands trailed up and down her back. "You spoil me rotten, darling."

"And you love every second of it," Y/N murmured with a soft laugh, tilting her chin up to search his sparkling green gaze.

The tender look Harry returned her with stole her breath away, like it still did even after all this time together. His calloused thumb traced the line of her cheekbone reverently.

"How could I not?" His low rumble sent tingles down her spine. "When you pour so much love and devotion into everything you do for me. Makes me fall deeper every damn day, dove."

As their mouths slanted together in a searing, drugging kiss, Y/N couldn't dream of a response. Because there were truly no words sufficient enough to capture the cosmic love between them in that moment.

Of course, their intimate times weren't always just about relaxation either. Y/N's massages frequently led to much more heated activities once Harry was completely de-stressed, his desire for her building as she worked her magic on his body.

Harry loved nothing more than to suddenly flip their positions, pinning Y/N to the bed and attacking her neck and collarbone with hot, hungry kisses. His hands would grip her curves possessively as she writhed beneath him.

"You've woken the beast, darling," he would growl in her ear, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. "Now you'll have to tame him."

Their lovemaking was always passionate and intense, the depth of their connection shining through in how perfectly in-sync their bodies were. Y/N never felt more beautiful, powerful, and utterly cherished than when Harry was worshiping every inch of her with his hands, lips, and tongue.

Sometimes their couplings started not from a massage, but simply from them stealing heated looks while going about their day. Like the time Y/N was baking in the kitchen, shaking her hips to the beat of the pop song playing while she rolled out pie dough, careless and free of the world around her.

She didn't notice Harry sidle up behind her until his strong arms wound around her waist, tugging her flush against his solid chest. His lips found the juncture of her neck and shoulder, sucking a blistering path up to the spot behind her ear that drove her crazy.

"Look at you," he rumbled in that gravelly morning tone of his as Y/N gasped and arched back into his sturdy frame. "Being all sexy and domestic, tempting a bloke with something fierce."

Y/N bit back a throaty moan as Harry's nimble fingers slid beneath her loose shirt, calloused palms blazing a path up her ribcage. "Harry, what-what are you doing?" she breathed, though she already knew the answer if the hardness pressing into her backside was any indication.

"Having a nibble of my favorite snack," he replied cheekily, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe that made her inhale shakily, her heartbeat accelerating in her chest.

Before she could really process what was happening, Harry had easily turned Y/N in his arms and hoisted her up onto the wide kitchen counter. She reflexively wrapped her toned legs around his trim waist to anchor them together as he attacked her mouth in a desperate kiss.

His tongue plundered deep, tasting every crevice as Y/N clutched at the dense muscle of his biceps and back. One of his large hands cupped her jaw to angle her how he wanted while the other palmed her breast through the thin fabric, brushing a calloused thumb over the peaked nipple there.

Y/N whimpered into Harry's mouth, already spiraling from how quickly his talented hands and lips had her arousal spiking. He was single handedly unraveling her till she was putty in his hands, the only thought in her mind was what he was planning to do to her next..

Finally, Harry broke the filthy clash of their mouths, panting harshly as he pinned Y/N with a look of pure hunger. His green eyes were near black with want, wandering possessively over her flushed state.

"You make me so bloody crazy, dove," he rasped in a low rumble that had her pulse kicking up another notch. "I can't keep my hands off you."

Y/N whimpered at the pure need saturating her boyfriend's deep tone. She squirmed deliciously against him, desperate for more friction.

"Then don't," she managed to gasp out through her daze of arousal. "Take what you want from me, Harry. I'm all yours."

The low, guttural groan Harry let out at her breathless plea, very nearly had Y/N coming undone right then. His smoldering gaze somehow burned even hotter with carnal intent.

Before she could process what was happening, Harry had ridden her of her shirt and shorts in two effortless tugs. His big palms instantly settled at the curves of her waist, thumbs dipping beneath the lace waistband of her underwear teasingly.

"Look at you...so gorgeous and flushed, ready and waiting for me," he praised in a low rasp, leaning in to drag his tongue up the slender column of her throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you baby?"

Y/N was too far gone in the spiral of her own pleasure to respond with anything more coherent than a choked-off whine that had him thickening in his pants. She writhed against Harry's solid frame, silently pleading for him to end her torment.

Seeming to take the hint, Harry ducked his head to mouth along the swell of her breasts and sternum, layering nips and sucking kisses until her skin was covered with marks of his devotion. Y/N arched her back hair sticking to her rapidly dampening skin as breathy moans tumbled from her parted lips.

"So responsive for me, dove," Harry grunted in approval, his big hands sliding around to shamelessly cup and squeeze her backside. "So perfect at taking everything I give you."

With one swift movement, he tugged her skimpy panties aside and plunged two ring clad fingertips through her dripping folds. Y/N cried out shamelessly at the long-awaited relief, her hips bucking forward uncontrollably to maximize the delicious stretch and burn.

"Christ, so wet and tight," Harry ground out, sounding utterly wrecked as he swirled his fingers around her throbbing entrance teasingly. "Made just for me, isn't that right lovely? Made to take my fingers, my tongue..."

His voice dropped to a sinful baritone as he slowly pumped his thick digits in and out of her fluttering, slick heat. Y/N let out a shrill whine of complete surrender, eyes rolling back as she fully gave herself over to the glorious sensations sparking along every nerve-ending.

"Made to take every hard inch of my cock, pushing deep inside this perfect little cunt," Harry continued in that gravelly and raspy tone, leaning down to whisper the obscene words directly against her damp skin.

True to form, his skilled fingers had Y/N right on the edge of shattering with dizzying speed. Her thighs quivered with the coiled tension, inner walls fluttering madly around the deliciously intrusive stretch of his thick digits.

Just when she thought she couldn't take any more of the exquisite torment, when stars were bursting behind her eyelids, Harry abruptly curled his fingers upward in a devastating stroke against that magic spot inside her. Y/N's entire body convulsed as she broke into a thousand kaleidoscopic pieces, a strangled scream of pure euphoria ripping free from her throat.

By the time her vision finally began refocusing, her loose limbs were draped bonelessly over Harry's shoulders, her head spinning in dizzy bliss. She clearly registered the achingly slow push and pull of his fingers continuing to work through her fluttering, overstimulated cunt.

Harry's burning gaze was locked onto her sweat-slicked, flushed skin as he methodically wrung out every last spasm of ecstasy from her boneless frame. The soft, reverent look of awe on his handsome face stole what little breath Y/N had managed to recapture.

"Look at you, darling...absolutely wrecked for me," he husked "So stunning like this, falling apart on my fingers. All fo’ me"

Despite feeling completely satisfied, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at Harry's words. He always had been equal parts tender and filthy in his erotic praise and endearments.

Case in point, his next words as he slid his glistening fingers into his mouth to taste her essence were absolutely scorching.

"Clean that essence up for me like a good girl, dove...because I'm going to need you soaked and begging again in about five minutes."

Y/N let out a breathy moan at the promise in his words, knowing full well her legs were going to absolutely sore tonight, her knees wobbly and unable to walk by morning.

She nodded around the slick digits, swirling her tongue around the fullness of them as he sighed at the way she sucked his fingers.

“God, I wish it was m’ cock behind those pretty lips, dove” he pulled them out, placing his hand right over her naked thigh, “but I want it inside your pretty pussy for now”

She nodded, too awestruck to actua;ly process her mind to his words.He shook her head at her, pulling down the pants he had put on earlier.

“Got me so hard. Could’ve burst from listening to you being so filthy for me”

Her cheeks flushed at his risque words, thighs pushing together as his cock sprang free, the angry, red tip throbbing as he took himself into his palm, stroking his length to relieve some of the tension.

She pushed her thighs above each other, feeling utterly flustered and dizzy. He was gong to fuck her, and memories of all the times he had, flooding her mind like ocean water.

Finally, he let go of himself, parting her thighs and slotting himself in between. She let out a broken gasp, mouth going dry as she took a look at her own desperation, red and swollen, yet, so needy and wet.

“Could never get enough of you” he said into her mouth, swallowing her gasp as his cock stretched her open deliciously. A broken moan made its way past her lips, her quivering legs wrapping around him as he slid himself inside her. Her wetness swallowed him up, her pussy gushing with arousal as he angled her hips higher.

“Good, fucking–so damn tight for me” eh cursed, her mouth parting open into another broken sob as he thrust in and out of her, her wet walls taking him in so well. He felt so heavenly, his cock buried inside his pretty, so pretty and perfect girl.

“How did I stay so long without you? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, and she opened her closed eyes. His hand reached between her parted legs, his skilled digits teasing her clit, while his practised strokes made her fall apart under him.

“Oh fuck, yeah–right there” she begged him to keep fucking her, his cock hitting the deepest of spots inside her. It had her mind going numb, her toes curling as he fucked her with delirious intent.

“Pussy’s so good–:” he praised her once again, his fingers finally landing on her clit, a sharp spank that made her cum right then and there.

She arched her back, her head falling back till it touched the counter. She grabbed her nipples, pinching them as he rubbed circles over her clit, his cock fucking her at a pace that had her screaming and begging for more.

“Oh fuck, Harr–Harry, oh my fucking god”

He grabbed her hips, laying her down flat as she choked on another sob, her wetness gushing out and wetting the cold marble counter. Harry was grinning and smirking, watching her fall apart beneath him. He was the only one who could make her mind go absolutely detached, the only thought in her mind being of him. His name. His cock. His hands. The way they made her feel.

“Her orgasm prolonged as he kept her on the edge, her pussy short circuiting is the overstimulation kicked in. She was sore, two orgasms after a day of work would do that to her.

“Harry–” she pouted, her hands reaching out for his, to which he immediately complied, intertwining their fingers.

“Just a little longer, Almost done”

He promised, and began fucking her at the vicious pace again. The room echoed with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, her hips bruised as he sucked a breath in, teetering on the edge of sweet, sweet release.

He came inside her that day, his cock leaking inside her warm, warm cunt till he was fully spent and empty, her cunt full of his load as he stayed inside a little longer, relishing in the way she fluttered around him, squeezing and milking his cock for all he had.

He kissed her knuckles, murmuring sweet words of love as they lay on the counter for a while, her bake affair long forgotten, since she had already gotten a taste of something much sweeter.

***

The next morning, as Y/N was featherlight kissing her way down Harry's chiseled torso with the intent of rousing him for another sensual round, her lips brushed against something unfamiliar on his skin. Frowning, she pushed back the bedsheets to get a better look.

There, etched in thick black ink just above Harry's hipbone, was a new tattoo she had never noticed before. It was a series of numbers, almost like...coordinates?

Y/N felt her breath catch as she recognized the distinctly precise numerical patterning. She had taken enough coding classes to spot geographic coordinates when she saw them.

"Harry..." she gulped, tracing the new ink with a trembling fingertip. "What is this? Why do you have map coordinates tattooed on your body?"

The sleepy, blissed-out expression on Harry's face instantly shuttered closed as soon as the words left Y/N's lips. He seemed to almost freeze for a moment, grimacing ever-so-slightly as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It's...nothing to concern yourself with, darling," he finally replied in a tone that was just a bit too overly-casual. "Just a drunken mistake from a mate's stag night a few weeks back. Doesn't mean anything, I swear."

But Y/N knew her boyfriend too well to be convinced by his nonchalant dismissal. She searched his bright green eyes, unable to shake the feeling that there was much more to this strange new tattoo than he was letting on.

What secrets could Harry possibly be keeping from her? And just where exactly would those map coordinates lead if she dared to follow them?

The delicious haze of their previous intimacy was shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense that Y/N was missing out on some important truth about her boyfriend's life. And she knew their relationship could never regain that blissful closeness until she uncovered what Harry was hiding...

(next part)

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! i want to do a part 2, but this one's long, so we'll see! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

feedback | masterlist

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @prettythingsworld @chesthairrry @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @islakp217 @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

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regressionschool · 1 month ago

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A Quiet Afternoon at Home

The sun streamed through the window of the cozy living room, bathing the space in warm, golden light. Kim sat perched in her highchair, legs swinging idly in the air, her bunny-covered footie pajamas crinkling softly with every move. A large pink bib, embroidered with "Daddy's Little Angel," hung around her neck, slightly smeared with the remnants of mashed bananas from her lunch.

Her expression was one of mild distraction, lips pursed around her thumb, eyes fixed on the colorful cartoons playing on the TV. But the occasional wiggle of her bottom betrayed something else entirely—an unconscious habit born of her complete lack of control. Her diaper, already swollen from the morning, gave a faint squish as she shifted in place, unaware of the telltale signs of what had just happened.

“Kimmy,” called a warm, sing-song voice from the kitchen. It was Sarah, her caretaker, carrying a sippy cup filled with apple juice. She approached with a practiced patience, as if dealing with a little one who had long accepted her place. “Did you make another present for me?”

Kim blinked at her, thumb slipping from her mouth with a soft pop. Her cheeks flushed pink, a mix of embarrassment and resignation crossing her face. She didn’t need to answer; the sagging weight of her diaper said it all. Sarah gave her a knowing smile, setting the sippy cup down on the tray of the highchair.

“Aww, it’s okay, sweetie,” Sarah cooed, reaching over to tousle Kim’s blonde hair, now tied into two childish pigtails. “That’s what your diapers are for, isn’t it? You tried to hold it, didn’t you?”

Kim nodded faintly, her lower lip quivering. “I-I felt it, but…” She trailed off, glancing down at her lap, where her hands nervously fidgeted with the edge of her pajama sleeves. “It just… happened.”

“It always does, baby,” Sarah said softly, crouching down so she was at eye level. “You’re just not big enough to make it to the potty, are you?”

Kim bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. She didn’t protest, didn’t argue, because deep down she knew Sarah was right. She’d been through regression school, where every ounce of her adult independence had been carefully stripped away, replaced with the routines and instincts of a toddler who might think about potty training but could never follow through. The smallest flutter in her tummy was always too late, her body betraying her before she even realized it was happening.

Sarah leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Kim’s forehead. “No tears, sweetheart. Mommy’s here to keep you dry and happy. Well… maybe not dry,” she teased with a light chuckle. “But happy, for sure.”

Kim managed a small smile, the corners of her lips twitching upward despite herself. She clung to the comforting reassurance in Sarah’s voice, even as her soggy diaper grew cold and clammy against her skin. This was her normal now—no responsibility, no expectations beyond simply being the little girl she’d been molded into.

“Now,” Sarah said, lifting Kim from the highchair with ease, her arms cradling her protectively. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into a nice fresh diaper, okay? Then maybe we’ll do some coloring. Or would my little princess like to play tea party instead?”

Kim wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck, resting her head on her caretaker’s shoulder. She didn’t answer right away, simply snuggling closer as Sarah carried her to the nursery. The familiar scent of baby powder and plush toys greeted them as they entered, the pastel pink walls and crib a constant reminder of just how far Kim had regressed.

As Sarah laid her down on the changing table, Kim let out a small sigh, her thumb creeping back into her mouth. She didn’t fight it, didn’t squirm. There was no point. Her future was as padded and protected as the diapers she’d never leave behind.

For Kim, this was forever. She’d always be the toddler stuck on the cusp of potty training but never quite making it. And, as Sarah lovingly taped up a fresh, crinkly diaper around her waist, Kim couldn’t deny the tiniest spark of comfort in that reality.

#diaper stories #regression school #ab/dl caption #diaper captions #ab/dl stories #wetting diaper #diaper bulge #ab/dl girl #ab/dl #ab/dl diaper

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ink-n-shadow · 3 months ago

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BORED? HERE'S MY THIGH

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're bored and john's watching footy

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x gn!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), thighriding, subtle dom/sub dynamics, brief dirty talk, use of 'pet' as a petname (but no explicit pet play), fingers in mouths

john knows as soon as you clamber up into his lap with just one of his raggedy t-shirts on and nothing else that you're up to something. sure, you play it off by sleepily nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, but john can feel the sticky heat emanating from between your thighs.

“thought ya didn’t wanna watch footy w'me, sweetheart,” john mumbles lowly into your hair and presses a gentle kiss behind your ear, body relaxing comfortably into the leather of his recliner as the weight of your body comes to rest completely against him.

a snorted laugh leaves his chest at the breathy jumble of words you offer in response, one hand coming up to curl around your waist at the way your hips wiggle side to side to wedge one of his thick thighs directly between yours. once you settled yourself down on his thigh, that's when he noticed the sticky mess that waited for him between your thighs—'course you weren't wearin' underwear.

john bounces his leg up in a feigned attempt to sit up straighter in the recliner, smirking at the choked mewl that leaves your lips and shushing you with a hand cradling the back of your head.

“easy, pet. just relax fer me. c’mon—sit down on my thigh,” john croons sweetly in your ear, using the hand he has perched on your hip to ease your hips back down until your bare arousal is flush against the warm, hairy skin of his thick thigh. “take what ya need, sweetheart.”

which leads to you rutting eagerly against the pudgy corded muscle branching up john's thigh, hiding your teary face into the crook of his neck to avoid the humiliation crawling up your spine. sure, hiding away in the crook of john's neck let you avoid his the condescending cock of his brow and the mocking pout he gives you, but it doesn't do anything to stop the absolute filth from pouring out of his mouth. it doesn't stop his hands from slithering up your oversized t-shirt, the calloused tips of his fingers immediately finding your peaked nipples and groping the flesh there.

"if ya needed me t' fuck ya, could've just asked me, y'know?" john mutters with a few clicks of his tongue as he uses one hand to push the hem of your shirt up and over your head, exposing more of your now naked skin and giving him more places to sink his teeth and nails into. “all y’had to do was say please—would’ve filled you up ‘til you were leakin’.”

and when you're a blubbering mess in the crook of his neck, warbling out broken apologies and begging for john to just go ahead and fuck his cock into you, he’s hushing you by shoving his middle and ring finger between your teeth, nestling them at the back of your tongue. he uses the other hand to grip at the flesh of your asscheek, pinching and dimpling the fat between his fingers in an attempt to get your hips to move quicker.

“shhh, shhh—y’ made your choice now, pet,” john explains to you slowly so your melting brain might be able to comprehend. “keep goin’, then. m’not gonna play with ya ‘til yer cummin’ all over me.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

#cod kinktober #call of duty #cod mw2 #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #captain john price #john price x you #captain price #task force 141 #iNs Captain John Price 🎗#call of duty modern warfare #price cod #cod mwii #cod #john price smut #tf 141 #john price x reader smut #john price x you smut

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corroded-hellfire · 1 month ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and

I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)

For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/

THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂

Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth

Words: 1.2k

“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”

Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas.

“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter.

“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.

Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks.

“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”

Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about.

“The…scrunch?” he asks.

“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”

By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.

“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”

“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”

“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”

“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”

“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away.

“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.

Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”

“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth.

The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan.

“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”

Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now.

Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you.

“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”

“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.

Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again.

“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.

Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.

“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.

“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles.

“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”

“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”

Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.

“What?”

“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.

A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.

You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness.

“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.

“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.

“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”

“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”

It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWs #request

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petit-papillion · 1 year ago

Text

Footy warm-up with Andrea | Austrian GP Sprint Day | 1 July 2023

📸 IPA Sport

#footy warm-up #andrea ferrari #charles leclerc #austria23 sprint #austrian gp 2023

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pernillecfcw · 1 year ago

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Yoga in the ☀️🧘‍♀️

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shotmrmiller · 10 months ago

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neighbor!ghoap breaking in?? i squealed omg

the reader coming home to a trashed apartment everything strewn about :( you’re too shaken to realize that anything super personal that you’d miss too much is standing up fine, but everything else?? mangled

the cops can’t figure out thing’s taken but soap talks them down vouches that they’ll keep a look out, slyly mentioning they’re SAS before talking the cops into finally leaving while Simon calms you down on the couch

he cups your face and swiped your tears away until johnny comes back in letting you bury your face in his chest while sobbing simon’s hands massaging your calves “it’s okay. we’re here, wont let you go get hurt.” and when johnny looks up at simons eyes trained on you he knows the pieces have fallen into place

now to take care of you in their apartment slowly ‘warming’ up to you inviting you to watch footie so they can cuddle with you holding your waist when they scoot around you play fighting and pulling you into it but simon scoops you out from johnny’s grip and picks you up wrapping your legs around his waist

- 🔭

wait because johnny's a crafty summabitch.

he's slowly turning the flat into ya'll's flat. things he think you'd like he buys.

their spartan decor gaining color. trinkets here and there, a brightly colored throw on the sofa, an extra mug next to their two. in the bathroom, there's their 7-in-1 wash and then there's a shampoo, conditioner, hair oil, facial cleansing wash, exfoliator.

you asked for none of it.

the boys also buy tampons and pads for you, in every size and it's funny because simon held it in his hand with pride, and when he gave it to the cashier, he's quick to say that they're for their missus.

you're in their clutches now, and the only way you're leaving is by being pried off their cold, dead hands.

it won't be so bad, truly. they'll take such good care of you.

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maxlarens · 5 months ago

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(last one for now) 🩷: Logan + (american 😤) football game 🥹

honestly this is how i think that me going to a american football game would go (at least re: not knowing whats going on). anyway loved this idea actually thank u 💝 can u tell i dont understand how american football works

cw: ummm slightly suggestive?

“Logan,” you sigh, “I’m sorry, I know this is fun for you, but what the fuck is going on down there?”

Logan laughs, tips his head back so you can see the line of his throat. Foamy beer sloshes over the rim of his plastic cup as he points an arm out, gesturing at players down on the field. You’ve got no real way to know who he means when he says words like Quarterback and Wide Receiver and Outside Linebacker. It’s a whole different language, never mind the way his accent has thickened since he’s been home. Vowels turning honey-sweet and long.

“You understand?”, he asks off the back of a long spiel that you definitely didn’t get.

You wince a little, shake your head, “All I got is that they’re chucking a ball around, Loges. Same as every other sport.”

Logan raises a blonde eyebrow at you, smile tugging charmingly at his mouth, “Every other sport?”

“Yuh huh. Tennis, soccer, footy— uh, padel. Even you guys, I guess.”

A snort, indelicate, childish as he waits for you to elaborate. Clearly intrigued to see how you’ll relate the two, “Go on.”

You shrug sheepishly, feeling a little embarrassed about your dumb joke, but persevering anyway, “Yeah, y’know. Twenty of you slinging your balls around the track every weekend.”

Logan, who’d made the mistake of taking a sip of his beer, bursts suddenly into laughter. Has to redirect the beer-spray that shoots out of his mouth onto the concrete steps below you. Not quick enough apparently, as some hits your bare knee. You can’t help joining in on his snickering as you wipe your knee dry with a napkin.

“Gross,” you complain.

“I’m gross?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yeah. You spat on me.”

Logan’s cornflower blue eyes sparkle under the stadium light. You eye the smattering of blonde stubble as his jaw ticks. Mouth twisting in amusement.

He shrugs his broad, muscular shoulders, expression glinting with something familiar, “I’ve done worse.”

Something tingles down your spine as you bite the inside of your cheek. You raise both eyebrows at him in surprise, maybe just daring him to go on.

“Oh, have you?”, you bite, knowing for certain fact he has, just wanting to hear him say it.

He nods, a polite, perfunctory thing, says, “Yes ma’am,” pretends like he doesn’t know what that does to you.

You purse your lips like you’ve sucked on a sour lemon. Raise an eyebrow at him incredulously for what feels like the hundredth time today. Really, it asks.

His eyes are still bright and mischievous. Happy. The crowd erupts into cheers as some Quarterback or Linebacker or fucking whatever, scores a goal or a touchdown or something of that nature. Neither of you are looking— only at each other.

You grab for the plastic cup in Logan’s hand, in an attempt to stifle the electricity buzzing between you— it’s not the place, nor the time, “Gimme that.”

His lip curls up, satisfied, acquiescing the drink easily to you, “Sure thing, babe.”

A little breathless, a little warm, you gulp down lukewarm beer in an attempt to stifle the heat inside you.

“You’re fucken’ evil, Sargeant.”

He hums, “Yeah. You love it.”

what is it with logan and me making the drabble slightly h*rny. is it just because i’m writing it for u viv????? is it logan?????

#logan sargeant x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:ls2 #lilli’s birthday celebration

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foreverisntenough · 1 month ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 8 - Caught in The Kitchen, Hidden in The Bathroom | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You and Trent were cuddled up on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you as the late afternoon sun streamed through the living room windows. The air was warm, filled with the soft murmurs of a documentary neither of you were paying much attention to. Instead, the two of you were locked in a lazy conversation, your head resting against his chest while his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. You leaned into Trent’s chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him and enjoying the comfort of his steady heartbeat. Trent chuckled, recalling a memory that had resurfaced the other week. Recently you and him went to the park you’d gone to a lot growing up. A park where Jack and all his friends would play footie in and you’d tag along for a glimpse of your teenage crush. But this other week in that very park, your crush, Trent, had given you a daisy and confessed something that had long lingered on your mind. Did he even notice you back then? He was about to tell you.

“Baby, you know how we went to the park the other day?” He asked and you hummed confirming. You tilted your head up to look at him, your curiosity winning over the quiet comfort of the moment. “It’s just I was thinking – it’s funny because…” he began to speak, stumbling through words, his voice soft and nostalgic, “I honestly had the biggest crush on you, even then, when we were younger. I wish I was braver to have done something but instead… you know, I just used to try so hard during those pickup games with Jack and all the lads if I knew you were there watching.” He smiled, almost beginning to laugh at himself. You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“Are you implying that you have a crush on me now?” You cheekily asked and he rolled his eyes. “Baby…” You pouted patronizingly at him with a tease. “But also, no. No, you didn’t,” you teased a little more, a smile spreading across your face. “You simply wanted to win those games. You’re the most competitive person I’ve ever met. I was not your concern!” He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“Fairs, that’s true that I wanted to win,” he admitted, Trent grinned, his dimples deepening as he recalled the memory, “but I swear… I mean I could even make pinpoint accurate passes then but I was purposefully mishitting the ball just so it’d end up rolling near where you were sitting. You were definitely a concern every time you showed.” He told you. “I mean, you know me always want to show off a little, especially for you.” He chuckled, but his eyes softened as he looked at you. You giggled a little smitten hearing his admission, covering your mouth with your hand at the revelation.

“You’re not serious…” you asked, smiling at the idea of him planning such an elaborate yet subtle way to get your attention - risking his performance in front of others just to get to you? You couldn’t believe it. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he replied. “I’d watch out of the corner of my eye, praying you’d look up or notice me. Even if you just rolled your eyes at us, it was worth it.” You couldn’t stop smiling, the memory taking you back to those carefree days.

“That’s so dumb,” you said, but your voice was warm and full of affection. “For a few reasons, first off you knew I was watching just for you, Jack was shit at footie so I wasn’t exactly coming to watch him.” You both laughed. And he pulled you in a little tighter listening intently for hopefully a less humorous secondary reason. “But also because I was just trying to get you to notice me. I’m impressed with myself that you thought I was just hanging out. I used to try to act all nonchalant, you know? Like I was beyond uninterested. I would say I didn’t want to go tag along with Jack to my dad again and again but an hour later – I was dressed….” You went to keep speaking but Trent cut you off.

“And you always looked beautiful by the way.” He told you. Butterflies filled your stomach for your current and younger self knowing the extra effort you put in to go to the park had Trent noticing. It wasn’t anything elaborate but your slicked back bun was done well, you’d have your jewelry on, a nice matching sweat set. Simple but evidently… very effective…eventually.

“You’re sweet. But it was a facade. I’d just sit on a bench purposefully making sure I was in view or if it was warmer, I’d be picking at the grass, always ‘annoyed’ and waiting for Jack to be done, but in my head… I was praying you’d come over and say something, anything really.” You giggled, almost embarrassed you were admitting you’d been trying so hard. Trent’s eyebrows shot up, a look of disbelief and amusement crossing his face.

“Nah,” he said, his hand moving to cradle the side of your face. “You were hoping for me to come over? Babbyy…” He drew out the word with a frown, not dramatically, not teasingly like yours before but just with a bit of a pout. You nodded sheepishly, your cheeks flushing with the shared embarrassment and sweetness of young, unspoken crushes.

“Yeah, well…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Every single time. I’d always come for you. To watch you playing– I think I must’ve met some of the other boys ten times over before I even knew their names. All I wanted… I was just hoping you’d notice me.” You told him. Your words flaring with a smile and then fading out into almost a pang of sadness. Trent felt the switch. He shook his head, but kept a smile full of wonder and nostalgia on his lips.

“I noticed.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. “I noticed you probably the first time you showed. I had to play it cool though. It was long.” He laughed. “Kind of mad, we went from that to this, no?” he murmured letting you know he understood how crazy this relationship was and how long it had been building for. You looked into his eyes, the space between you shrinking as your faces drew closer.

“I guess it couldn’t stay under the surface forever. Was bound to bubble over,” you said, a laugh escaping your lips. Trent leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, the kiss sweet and unhurried, as if savoring the lost moments from your past.

“And bubble over it did. No matter how long it took… I’m glad I’ve got you now.” He pulled back just enough to whisper. His thumb traced your cheek as he looked at you, his gaze full of warmth and contentment. You nodded, resting your forehead against his. The whole room slipped into a euphoric still. But then you thought back to those long days at the park, where you’d sit off to the side, pretending not to care but secretly hoping for any attention. Your dad said it’d be good for you to be with Jack and his friends. Layla would even sometimes join you, but mostly because it was just so hard to sit at home at your old house that was filled with so many memories and so you went. You went as an escape and a part of that very escape was your developing feelings for Trent. You felt the lump in your throat form but you swallowed it down. You didn’t want to bring in all of those emotions and so instead you opted for another sweet joke.

“You know, whenever a ball came over… I just thought that was shit aim,” you teased, nudging him lightly. He feigned a hurt expression.

“Aye, aye, aye, relax. My accuracy has always been top tier. Was doing it on purpose.” His voice softened, but it flared with cheek and competitiveness just the way you liked it. “I just wanted any excuse to get near you.” He cooed. You giggled, a wave of nostalgia washing over you.

“I used to trot over to grab it but you used to look so uninterested in me, like you were too cool to care about any of it, about me,” he said, shaking his head recalling how rattled he felt but how determined he became. You smiled feeling like that wasn’t the case. You tried to play nonchalant but you were screaming inside. “I thought you were impossible to impress.” Trent laughed, his eyes lighting up at the image. “But then I started smiling at you, I’d shoot you a wink and then maybe just maybe sometimes I think I caught you watching just for me.” He smirked. You bit your lip, feeling a tinge of embarrassment that he noticed but also amusement.

“What was I meant to do!” You yelped. “I wanted you to think I was cool,” you admitted, “ but then I crumbled…. as you well know. You were always so loud and confident, it was hard to not look. Even back then, you knew you were good.” He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyebrows raised.

“I tried to impress you. But to be fair, I knew I could,” he said smugly, the playful arrogance in his voice making you laugh. “But I think you’re underselling how good I really was. It was pick-up footie with schoolmates then I’d bounce off to the academy. You were watching because you knew I was the best one there.” He joked but also semi serious wanting to hear your confirmation he was the best. You rolled your eyes. You remembered once gushing to Layla about how good Trent was, that it was hot to see someone so talented at something. She teased you about having an easy way to become a wag. But that wasn’t it. He could’ve just been Jack's friend. The bouncing off to the academy after was the thing you cared about the least.

“Yeah, exactly that.” You sarcastically snapped back. “More like, I was just waiting for you to make a fool of yourself,” you joked, your grin widening. “Skying the ball over the bar because you had to take every free kick.” You teased and Trent’s eyes widened but you could feel him loving the banter. Loving it secretly even more than a compliment. “Honestly, I think I’d have been a better player than you if I had joined the games.” You told him with faux seriousness. Trent’s jaw dropped in mock offense.

“Excuse me? You think you could strike a better dead ball than me? ’Got a better right foot than me?” he asked, his voice incredulous but his eyes gleaming with excitement. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him further, leaning in closer with a smug smile.

“Absolutely. I’d have shown you up, easy. Just didn’t want to embarrass you.” You quipped. He pulled away from you immediately, his face contorting into an exaggerated expression of shock that soon melted into a cheeky grin.

“Yeah? That so?” he questioned, his tone full of playful challenge. “Alright then, if you’re so confident, you’re gonna have to prove it.” Before you could respond, he suddenly stood up from the sofa and, in one swift motion, scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. You let out a surprised squeal, half-laughing and half-protesting as he carried you toward the glass doors that led to the back garden.

“Where are we going?!” you shrieked, still laughing as he ignored your protests.

“To the back garden,” he declared, a competitive glint in his eye. “If you’re so good, you’ve got to show me right now.” You couldn’t stop laughing, your heart racing with the thrill of his sudden challenge.

“T! You’re being ridiculous!” you managed to say through your giggles, but deep down, you loved every second of it. Trent carried you effortlessly through the house, your squeals and laughter filling the living room as he made his way toward the glass doors that led to the back garden. You squirmed in his hold, trying to wriggle free, but he only tightened his grip around your waist, his laughter rumbling through his chest. “Trent!” you cried out, half laughing, half gasping. “Put me down! I’m not even dressed to go outside!” He grinned at your complaint, completely unbothered, and slid open the glass doors with one hand. The crisp air of early evening swept in, the sky had begun to turn shades of navy streaked with orange. He stepped out onto the grass, finally setting you down but keeping a firm grip on your shoulders to stop you from escaping.

“You think you’ve got a better right foot than me, yeah?” he challenged, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well… go on then. Show me what you’ve got.” He mocked you as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to feign an air of confidence even though you knew this was ridiculous.

“I can’t play like this!” you protested, gesturing to your outfit—cozy lounge shorts and an oversized jumper of his but most of all slippers… hardly proper attire for any football.Trent raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a grin.

“Excuses already?” he teased. “And here I was, thinking you’d at least try to back up all that talk.” You stuck out your tongue at him, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Fine,” you conceded. “But don’t cry when you realize I’m actually better than you.” You were talking a good game but even with your decent athleticism aside… you were mildly nervous but you continued to joke about. “You’re not cute when you lose.” You teased him recalling all the times he’d simply lost a board game and how he’d pout. Annoyingly, it was actually cute but you’d tell him otherwise for the sake of banter and the moment. He laughed, and the sound was warm and bright in the fading sunlight.

“I’m not a sore loser!” He yelped and you raised your brow silently telling him to be realistic. He was a bad loser. “Nah, alright, if you embarrass me, I’ll retire from football right now,” he joked, stepping back to give you space. “But I won’t hold back.” You rolled your eyes, feeling the playful competitiveness radiate between the two of you. He jogged off to a shed tucked in the corner of the garden where he had a ball stored, The game about to start as a lighthearted test of skill, with both of you brimming with playful energy. Trent, competitive as ever, had made sure to set the stakes high, a teasing grin stretched across his face as he dropped the ball onto the grass and rolled it toward you. The moment the ball reached your feet your heart slowed. You weren’t sure how serious either of you were being. This was a joke, right? What if he thought you were shit? What if he thought you were trying too hard? Nevertheless, with an exaggerated flick of your hair, you picked your head toward him.

“Ready to lose?” you taunted. He feigned a look of horror but then smiled.

“Never, baby,” he said, already moving into a more defensive position. “I rarely do.” He reminded him. You squared your shoulders, and with a grin, you nudged the ball forward with your foot, feeling your heart race. You took a step forward with it. Trent was all playful resistance, putting on his most intimidating game face while still clearly holding back. You juked left dramatically as a joke as if you were actually going to try to go past him and both of you bursting out into giggles. But still you took one more little jab at the ball just to edge it past him amidst the laughter—though, admittedly, it was more because he was enjoying the moment than you actually outplaying him. He turned round and dragged the ball back with his feet. He was going to be offensive now. Trent tapped the ball lightly, his feet dancing around it with a series of quick step-overs and fancy tricks, every movement of his ridiculously smooth. At first you were momentarily mesmerized, seeing it all so close up for the first time. You were experiencing a, yes, exaggerated, humorous, and overzealous, performance of his, but still, close to what it was like to face someone like him on a pitch. You stuck your leg out attempting to poke the ball away or pull it back to you, trying to swipe the ball away from him. He sidestepped easily, a laugh bursting from his lips, not mockingly just teasingly, as he kept the ball just out of reach; enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, okay, you can stop showing off!” you complained, trying to keep up, but he only chuckled, now purposefully dribbling circles around you. You stopped trying minutes ago. You, frankly, never really gave any of this silly game much effort.

“I thought you said you were better, no?” he teased, his voice full of mischief. His eyes glinted with pure joy, and you couldn’t help but smile even through your feigned frustration. Trent loved being good at things and this… winning a challenge, playing football… he was good at. The cool air was biting at your skin, but the warmth of the moment made it hard to feel anything but happiness. “Come on, you’re not even trying!” he taunted, shifting the ball back and forth with smooth footwork. He wanted you to actually try but you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him. Feigning annoyance you groaned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play it…” You pretended like you were about to actually give it a go but you decided on a different tactic. With a devious smile, you waited until Trent had planted the ball under his foot, taking a moment to catch his breath while still managing to look smug. Then, without warning, you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his waist from behind and dragging your whole weight against him. Trent stumbled slightly, his laughter ringing out into the garden.

“Oi! Ref!” he shouted, his voice full of playful outrage. “That’s a foul! A yellow card for sure! Get her off the pitch!” You laughed, clinging to him tighter. He twisted around in your embrace, trying to keep the ball pinned under his foot, but he was losing the fight. His laughter made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but grin as you pressed your cheek against his back, feeling the warmth radiate from him. Trent’s laughter began to subside, and he tried to turn his head to look at you, his eyes dancing with delight. “You’re a snake! You think you’re sneaky, huh?” he teased. “Trying to take me out by cheating?” You giggled, unrepentant, as you slid your hands from his waist up to drape them around his neck.

“What? Me? Never.” Leaning up, you began to plant soft, ticklish kisses along his jawline, moving up to his ear and whispering, “You know, if you’d just given me the ball, I wouldn’t have had to resort to these tactics.” Trent stumbled a bit more, his knees almost buckling as he tried to resist the effect you had on him. His hands moved to hold your arms, and you took the opportunity to pepper even more kisses along his neck. Finally, he twisted fully around, his smile bright and wide, but before he could say anything more, you leaned up and kissed him properly. His eyes widened for a second, but he melted into it, the laughter leaving his body as the energy shifted between you. The kiss started sweet, the two of you still grinning against each other’s lips, but then Trent’s hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel his breath hitch as he gave in.

“That… that was definitely a red card.” He pulled back just a fraction, his lips barely brushing yours as he whispered. His voice had dropped, becoming huskier, and you shivered at the way he looked at you. The playful atmosphere morphed into something more electric, more intense, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat rising between you. You met his gaze, your heart pounding.

“Oh? A red card, really?” you murmured. He nodded slowly, his eyes darkening as his hands moved from your back to cup your face.

“Yeah. But we can play on. I’m not sure I mind your tactics,” he whispered. His fingers traced your jawline, and the way he looked at you made your knees weak. The playfulness had melted away, leaving only a shared desire, and you knew the game was long forgotten. A smile tugged at your lips, but you leaned in, capturing his mouth with yours again. The air was still cool, the night sky overhead, but all you could feel was Trent, his warmth, and the way he made the world fade away. You both stood there, catching your breath and grinning at each other, the garden bathed in the last light of the day. It felt like one of those perfect moments you’d remember forever—just the two of you, tangled in laughter and love.

One night, it was a friend of a friends birthday party you all had been invited to; Jack, all his mates, Trent, Layla, it was a massive event. Your house buzzed with the energy of pre-party excitement. Music played from every direction on surround sound speakers. A few of Jack’s mates had already shown up, their laughter echoing faintly from the living room. You had invited Layla over to get ready with you, knowing you both wanted to look your best for the party. The evening was promising to be memorable, with everyone gathering together for the night out. Although a part of you was really anxious, you worried about your feelings, alcohol, and Trent mixing in the same room but you pushed it down. You giggled upstairs with Layla trying on outfits in your wardrobe, but had taken extra precaution ahead of time to hide any remnants of Trent; a jumper, some boxers, condoms, an array of items that frankly wouldn't be damning evidence but you were nervous. In the middle of getting dressed, you realized you desperately needed water—both you and Layla did. You’d promised her a drink to aid in staving off the inevitable hangover you’d both likely have tomorrow, so you ran downstairs in your relaxed outfit: oversized sweats and a tiny tank top. Despite your hair and makeup being perfectly done, you felt comfortable and at ease at home as you snuck down quickly but all it padded with a sense of nerves. As you made your way into the kitchen, you noticed Trent. He’d already arrived to pregame, his presence instantly shifting the air in the room. He looked incredible, wearing just a white t-shirt that highlighted his tan skin, his hair freshly trimmed, and a gold chain peeking out from beneath the neckline. The look on his face that lit up when he saw you was sweet, and genuine. A moment to be alone together again suddenly appeared but you'd do your best to ignore it. Not here. Not now.

“Hey pretty girl,” he greeted, his voice low and teasing but quiet. The nickname wasn’t something other people hadn’t heard. He’d called you it for ages but what you hadn’t done for ages was what you were doing lately. Something was very different. You were sleeping together to say the least. You rolled your eyes at him pretending not to care as you normally would, walking around the kitchen island to get your drinks. You’d say something eventually but you had to play it cool. Jack and all their friends were in the other room, Layla upstairs. You filled a cup of water, moving to fill a second. But before you could do that, before you could say anything to him, he closed the distance between you, reaching out to tug on the waistband of your sweatpants and pulling you backward into him. You yelped, almost spilling the water you had just gotten.

“Babyyy,” you whined instinctually, playfully, glaring at him with mock exasperation, but your pout couldn’t hold as Trent wrapped his arms around your waist. It was too natural now. It was as if any fear dissipated when he stepped within a foot of you. Trent knew everyone was occupied in the other room with a game, he knew Layla was upstairs so he couldn’t resist stealing this moment. He wanted you to be back in his arms. He held you tight, his touch warm and familiar, his grip grounding you in a way that made your heart race. He chuckled, pressing his chin against your shoulder.

“Shhhh.” He hushed you calling him the pet name aloud although with a smile because he didn’t actually mind hearing it. “Can’t be doing that... but I just couldn’t resist you though,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. He thought you were alone, that this was a stolen moment between just the two of you. And so did you. You leaned back into him, pouting dramatically.

“You made me spill my water,” you said, your voice half a giggle, half a protest. Trent smirked, clearly amused but unfazed. He leaned in closer, his face hovering near yours, his intentions obvious. His gaze held that gentle intensity that always made you melt, and you prepared to let him steal a kiss—

“OH MY GOD!” Layla’s scream cut through the air, making you both jump apart. Your eyes widened in shock, and you turned to see her standing at the base of the stairs, eyes as wide as saucers, her mouth hanging open. “I fucking knew it!” she yelled, her voice rising in pitch with excitement. “I fucking knew there was something bigger going on between you two! Oh my fucking god, how long has this been happening?!” She yelled running into the kitchen. You stumbled out of Trent’s embrace, your face burning.

“Lay… oh fuck. It’s not… it’s just…” you tried to form a coherent sentence, stepping toward her in a flustered panic. “Just shhh.” You now hushed her. Trent scratched the back of his neck, clearly equally rattled but there was a fullness to his cheeks.

“Lays, we’re just…” he began, trying to calm her down. But she wasn’t having it. She looked between the two of you, her eyes lighting up with even more surprise and delight.

“This is serious! You two are so… so lovey-dovey! Oh my days. So it wasn’t a one time thing? Jack’s going to die when he finds out!” She babbled on too overtaken by her surprise to have any sort of decorum or consciousness, mindfulness regarding the delicacy of this all. You ran over to her, covering her mouth with your hand, your own heart pounding with anxiety.

“Please, Layla,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t say anything yet. I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just… not now. You can’t tell anyone. Please.” You whispered harshly pleading just to her. You looked at her seriously. A look she knew well. It confirmed you and Trent were more than nothing. Trent came closer to you both, still looking uncomfortable but trying to add to the appeal.

“Yeah, we’re… just figuring things out,” he said cautiously, trying to convey the delicateness of your situation. “Just let it stay hush for now, yeah?” He told her. Layla pulled your hand off her mouth, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Figuring things out?” she echoed, confused by the vagueness turning towards you for clarity but you didn’t have any. She could sense that. Her gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, realizing the tension between the two of you. Both you and Trent felt a twinge of awkwardness at what you had both said. Even though it was honest, Trent belittled you and his relationship down to figuring things out. Where Trent thought you may have been wanting to hide things entirely, forever. It was all so confusing. You wondered if he was downplaying your relationship, and he worried that maybe you were keeping things too ambiguous. It stung a bit, this uncertainty of what you both really meant to each other. But for now, officially… someone else knew. Someone knew that you and Trent were no longer just friends. Layla had seen the reality of what you and Trent were, how real and raw this thing between you was. The secret was out, and the weight of it felt equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

You left the room with a nod of certainty from Trent. You had no option other than to drag Layla upstairs immediately swearing her to secrecy. You couldn’t risk Jack overhearing this conversation downstairs any longer. You hated you hadn’t told her more since the first hook up but how could you? Trent shot Layla a wink and her jaw dropped as you pulled her to the staircase. As soon as the door to your bedroom shut, you and Layla burst into almost panicked laughter, the nerves of her catching you with Trent bubbling over. Her giggles were of disbelief, yours in fear. Layla immediately threw her arms around you, still bouncing with shock and delight.

“What the fuck! What the fuck! Why did you hide this from me!!?!” she squealed, her voice just barely above a whisper but it was strained as if the walls themselves might betray the secret.

“I’m so so so sorry... Seriously, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you admitted, guilt mixed with an overwhelming need to finally let someone in on everything. You couldn’t hold back the truth anymore, not with Layla’s eyes wide and eager. She tugged you over to the bed, her curiosity palpable.

“Alright, secret's out. Spill it,” she demanded, crossing her legs and folding her arms, ready to listen. You took a deep breath, searching for the words to explain the whirlwind of the last few months.

“It’s been…” You couldn’t bite back the smile that Trent brought to your face.

“Oh my god!!!! So you’ve been properly hanging out, not just fucking?” Layla jumped the gun, completely shocked by the look the relationship brought to your face.

“Layla….” You steadied her. You’d tell her everything, if she’d just be patient enough to listen. She waved an apology telling you to go on. “It’s been so good. Honestly, I never expected it to actually happen, but he’s just…” Your voice softened, the warmth flooding your cheeks as you thought of him. “He’s been so sweet, Lays. Like, really sweet. Thoughtful, kind, funny. He has this way of making me feel like I’m the only one in the room, even when we’re hiding from the world.” You started to let the stories spill out, one by one: the little glances he’d give you across crowded rooms, how he’d brush his hand along yours in passing, those quiet moments spent tangled up in each other’s arms as morning light painted shadows on the sheets. “We’d just lay there, not needing to say anything,” you murmured. “He’s so different when it’s just the two of us. There’s this softness to him, this… I don’t know, it feels so real. But—” You stopped, that familiar ache settling in your chest. Layla’s brows furrowed slightly.

“But?” she prompted gently. She was biting back a million questions, comments, and concerns. She was trying just to listen, no opinions just yet.

“It’s like… every time we’re together, I feel like we’re on the verge of something real. But the second he leaves, I’m left wondering if I even exist in his life outside of those moments.” You let out a sigh, frustration mixing with the warmth of your memories. “It’s just—everything’s hidden. We’re hidden. And I’m terrified that I’m just some secret he’s keeping, like… like one of his other ‘girl of the season’ situations.” You explained sheepishly. You hated that this insecurity came with all the joy. You were almost embarrassed to let Layla into how complacent you’d been to it all.

“So, you’re afraid that he sees you like he’s seen other girls in the past? Just… temporary?” Layla looked at you thoughtfully. You nodded, looking down, feeling the weight of the confession.

“He says it’s different, and when I’m with him, I believe it. I want to believe it. But I can’t shake this feeling that I’m living this double life, like I’m only part of his world when it’s convenient. It’s one thing to keep it from Jack, but keeping it from you, from everyone else—it just makes me feel like… maybe he’s not serious about this. About us.” You muttered. Layla reached over, squeezing your hand, her face softening with understanding.

“I mean to be fair… I don’t think girl’s of the season have been given cars no strings attached.” She smirked teasingly knowing this relationship had been long brewing. “But that’s kind of the point… you could never be them. This situation is so sensitive. But, you know… it sounds like it’s real to you. I think what’s hard is that you are not just a secret in his world, you’re a big one. He winked at me when we left, like a confirmation I’d keep a tight lip. And I get that it’s complicated, but you deserve someone who isn’t afraid to let everyone know how he feels about you. Publicly… Openly.!” She told you the opinion you were waiting to hear. The one you knew had kept you from telling her to begin with. One you had a hard time stomaching because you knew it was correct. You bit your lip, her words hitting you harder than you expected.

“That’s the thing… when I’m with him, I don’t doubt it. I know he cares. But the minute he’s gone, it’s like I’m pulled back into reality, and I realize that in addition to his footballer lifestyle… layer on the fact that I’m still just—Jack’s little sister. And the thought that I might never be more than that to him—it terrifies me.” You earnestly admitted. Layla wrapped an arm around your shoulder, her expression soft but determined.

“Look, you deserve to be someone’s first choice, not a hidden chapter in their life. I know it’s scary,it probably is for him equally but maybe it’s time to be honest with him about what you need. All these little moments—they’re beautiful, yeah. But you deserve more than just stolen hours and hidden smiles. You deserve a real relationship. At the very least, I deserve a relationship you can at least tell me about.” She teased with a smile but it was tense. Her words lingered, settling somewhere deep within you. It was the honesty you’d been too afraid to face, the thing you’d been pushing aside every time you let yourself get lost in Trent’s arms. And as you sat there, talking it through with Layla, you felt the weight of your choices, your emotions sharpened into something you could finally name. You had a choice to make—keep clinging to the comfort of those stolen moments or take the leap and tell Trent that you wanted, needed, something real. “And… you can’t change the fact you are Jack’s sister.” She sheepishly reminded you hesitantly almost as if she could feel the knife twist inside of you from it. You and Layla sat quietly, the weight of her question heavy in the air between you. She looked at you expectantly, and when she asked when you’d tell Jack, the answer flew out of your mouth without hesitation.

“I can’t,” you said, the words sounding almost defensive, but as they hung there, something shifted inside you, a realization settling in your gut like a stone. Layla noticed it, too. Her face softened as you fell silent, the gravity of it finally hitting you both.

“If not now… when?” she asked gently. Her words were careful, but the question was razor-sharp, and you felt it cut right to the heart of everything you’d been holding back. You thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time. When would there ever be a right time? Layla seemed to read every doubt as it flickered across your face. She sighed, trying to keep the worry out of her voice but not quite succeeding. Your relationship with Trent unraveling before your eyes. It took all of two questions for the foundation to shake. “Babe,” she started, reaching for your hand, “If you really want him and he makes you happy… that’s all any of us want for you. Jack just wants you happy. It might take him a while, but he’d get over it.” She paused, giving you a small, uncertain smile. “But… I won’t lie, it might be a bit of a mess. Especially now that it’s been hidden so long.” She slyly reprimanded you for not even filling your best friend on this whole situation. She was right. Was she right? You nodded anyway, undecided but unable to look at her directly. You hadn’t just hidden this from Jack—you’d hidden it from her, from everyone. And the longer it had gone on, the more it had felt like the walls were closing in. You looked at her, the weight of the truth crashing over you like a wave, pulling you under.

“How did I let it get this far? How did I let it become… this?” The guilt twisted in your chest, and you almost couldn’t bear to see the hurt in Layla’s eyes. “How could I lie to you, to Jack, and for what? To be a secret hidden away in his mansion?” She squeezed your hand, trying to find the right words. What once felt exciting felt anything but.

“Hey, listen,” she said softly, “I know it’s more than that. It must be to him as well. He’s risking a lot. You wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t real, if there wasn’t something worth all this.” She gave a small, sad smile. “But… I get it. This isn’t you. Keeping secrets, hiding things—it’s not who you are. Never has been.” And as she said it, you felt it. The ache of it, how far you’d drifted from who you wanted to be. You’d always trusted Layla, trusted Jack, and now here you were, caught between fear and love, between loyalty and your own heart.

“I didn’t technically lie,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I just… omitted the truth.” You sheepishly told her, reminding yourself that you also trusted Trent and your heart and that’s why you ended up here. Layla nodded, her face thoughtful but filled with understanding.

“But does it feel worth it?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You were silent, unable to answer. Because the truth was you didn’t know if it was worth it—worth the risk, worth the lies, worth the tension pulling at you from every angle. And as you looked back at Layla, her eyes full of hope and worry, you wondered if you’d have the courage to find out.

Maybe you didn’t know exactly what you wanted out of the relationship but tonight, after a tequila shot that ignited a confidence you didn't realize was simmering, you and Layla both decided what you wanted, for at the very least tonight; was him. The night unfolded in a familiar dance between you and Trent, just as it always had. You stayed close, barely touching, your hand brushing his as you passed by, leaning into him when you laughed, your voice lingering just a bit too close. But then, you pushed it further. You caught his gaze and held it, a mischievous spark lighting up in your eyes. As the party pulsed around you, you slipped closer, cupping the shell of his ear, whispering something lighthearted into his ear while your teeth grazed his earlobe, feeling his whole body react. He turned, a cheeky, almost disbelieving smirk spreading across his face, clearly caught off guard but thrilled by the shift.

"Oh, so you want to play that way?" he teased, his tone low and daring. You two always tucked off at parties this wasn’t news but what you just whispered was. You nodded, flashing a smile, more certain than ever. He chuckled, narrowing his eyes in that competitive, confident way that both thrilled and terrified you. "I don't lose, baby," he reminded you, his voice a challenge as he leaned back, arms crossed, watching to see what you'd do next. The thrill of his words sent a shiver through you, your heartbeat matching the tempo of the music, and suddenly, it was all a game of daring glances and lingering touches, neither of you breaking the tension. So you continued to tease as you brushed your hand over his as you reached for a drink, let your fingers trail across his back as you slipped past him, laughing a little too sweetly in his ear. And Trent was no less relentless, stepping close enough that his breath tickled your cheek, his hand brushing your lower back just as he moved to let someone by, his gaze a quiet, playful reminder that he was more than ready to keep up. It became an unspoken competition, each of you pushing the limits just to see who would break first. Now that you had had a taste, knowing what was possible, every moment grew sharper, more electric, and even in the crowded room, it felt like it was only the two of you, locked in this game of desire and restraint, neither one willing to give in-yet. Until an idea popped into your head to get him to cave.

"Lay, can you see my nipples in this?" you asked, feigning nonchalance as you all stood in the kitchen. You turned solely to Layla, your eyes wide with playful innocence as you tugged at the hem of your shirt. The overhead recessed lighting illuminating you. You tilted your head slightly, looking down at the thin shimmery material, your fingers tracing the fabric, exposing just a little more of your skin. It was a bold question but Layla hummed not phased in the least. Playing her role. Yes, you wore this shirt because you could do just that very thing.

"Babe, I think that's the point of that top," she teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked you over. Her humor was unwavering in character, pretending this wasn’t a planned conversation. "But it's a party, you look stun! Your tit’s are perfect. Arguably, the best part of the fit." She told you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Trent shift slightly, his jaw tightening as he took another sip of his drink. You knew he was trying to hold back, that this question was pushing him to his edge. So, you decided to take it even further, turning to him with a coy smile.

"What do you think, T?" you asked, tilting your head as if you were just seeking an honest opinion. His eyes flickered over you, his hand tightening around his glass, his expression a mix of amusement and restraint.

"Think you know what I think," he said, voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone. He shot you a look, something intense behind his gaze, and you could see him fighting not to react as much as he wanted to.

“Well could you share with the class?" Layla interrupted, prompting Trent to actually have to articulate his feelings and smiling as she did it. You shrugged, tossing her a wink as if this was all in good fun, but you felt the charge in the air between you and Trent. You'd pushed him just far enough, and the look in his eyes told you he'd make you pay for it later. Trent's gaze dropped, his expression shifting, a mix of amusement and tension in his eyes as you dared to pull him further into this game. His grip tightened around his drink once over, clearly trying to hold himself back. He shot you a low, heated look that felt as much a warning as it did a challenge.

"You're pushing it," he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. But there was a hint of a smirk as he looked at you, a spark that showed he was just as invested in this as you were.

"Why?" You teased aloud, cocking your head with feigned innocence, fingers lightly tracing the edge of your top, letting his eyes follow the path. "Does it not look alright?” You asked. He exhaled, a slow, measured sound, his gaze moving from your shirt to your face.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," he replied, fighting a grin, as his hand discreetly brushed your arm. His voice was soft, almost casual, but you could feel the tension behind it, each word carrying a weight he didn't want to admit out loud. He was a little annoyed that you now had Layla on your team to tease him. It was 2 v 1. You now had a man advantage.

“So you don’t like it?” Layla asked Trent, feigning offense for you. Trent rolled his eyes at her. She laughed, shaking her head. You just smiled, playing along, turning to Trent with a mischievous look.

"Wait, you don’t like it?" you pressed, pretending not to notice how close you'd pulled him into your orbit. Trent took another breath trying to think how to navigate this. All he wanted to do was drag you into any bedroom and tell you just how much he really liked the way you looked but he couldn’t. Layla already found out tonight, no one else could. His silence was telling but also deafening. "Do you like the way I look or not?" You asked with drunken confidence. He looked at you, eyes sharp, with a grin he couldn't contain.

"Enough. You know my answer. Drop it" His voice had that edge again, that quiet challenge that sent a thrill through you. There was a split-second pause, a moment charged with the unspoken, before you stepped back, keeping your own playful expression in place. But you knew it was a matter of time before one of you broke, before this playful game turned into something real.

As the night wore on, the crowd and music faded into a backdrop, leaving only the charged atmosphere between you and Trent. It was an unspoken battle of wills, a daring game that grew bolder with each passing second. You felt his eyes following you across the room, and the thrill of being wanted, truly wanted, filled you with a mix of confidence and something new, something closer to risk. The sheer top and conversation didn’t prove to be enough and you were starting to feel a bit… needy. The music pulsed as you approached him with a casual smile, keeping your expression neutral while letting your fingers brush along his arm as you passed. He barely reacted, save for a flicker in his gaze that told you he felt it. Moments later, he slipped past you in a crowded corner, his hand just grazing the small of your back as he leaned close, lips at your ear. "You're not going to win," he whispered, his voice both soft and daring. You shot him a challenging look, cocking your head just slightly.

"You think I'll back down that easily? For you?" You taunted. A knowing smirk played on his lips as he took a slow step closer, his arm stretching around you to reach for a drink. His body pressed just lightly against yours, lingering in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Not sure you know what you've started," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as he finally pulled away. A small gasp left your lips, covered by the music, as he gave you a smug look and turned his attention back to the party. It only made you more determined. The evening continued like this-every move, every touch, carefully calculated. You brushed his shoulder with your hand while walking by, your fingers trailing just enough to make him turn. He placed a hand on your arm, steadying you as you reached for your glass, his fingers pressing just enough to remind you of his presence. By the time the lights dimmed, your heart was racing. You were now getting antsy. He was too good at having restraint. You now were beyond needy.

"Not going to quit, are you?" You leaned in close, brushing your lips by his ear as you whispered. A chuckle escaped his lips, low and filled with confidence.

"Not a chance. I told you-l don't lose." He smirked. You took a bold step forward, letting your hand linger on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm as you looked up into his eyes. The tension was almost overwhelming, each of you daring the other to give in. But instead of backing down, you pulled him even closer, so close you could feel his breath on your neck, close enough to hear him exhale as his hand settled firmly on your waist. This wasn't the subtle game it had started as— it was unmistakable now, and neither of you conscious enough to know if anyone would noticed. No one had, too caught up in their own drunken escapades to noticed you’d fallen down a rabbit hole in yours. You slipped your hand around his back, pressing into him as the tension between you reached a breaking point. Trent looked at you, a mixture of heat and amusement in his eyes as he brought his lips close, stopping just shy of kissing you, letting the moment stretch out until it was nearly unbearable. "You want me to call it a draw?" he murmured, voice thick with that same mix of excitement and restraint. You smirked, shaking your head just a fraction. Your heart raced at the thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes. You'd fantasized about this moment since your last and now you wanted it even more. The thrill of it almost being public but still hidden turning you on an embarrassing amount, pushing any clear thinking out the window.

"No, I thought you don’t lose." You reminded him. And he didn’t. You did when you tucked off to the bathroom. The party’s buzz felt distant as you stumbled down the hallway, your movements light but unsteady, fueled by a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Your skin burned with the heat of Trent’s lingering touch, your head spinning from the intensity of his gaze, the press of his body against yours. You’d hit your limit, unable to take the teasing any longer, and now all you could think about was escaping to collect yourself Trent’s dark eyes followed your retreat, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched you sway slightly in your steps. You didn’t turn back—you couldn’t. If you did, you’d be pulled right back into him, and you weren’t sure if you could hold yourself together. Trent chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He knew exactly why you were walking away, and the thought of you trying to resist him only made him more certain of his power over you.

When you reached the bathroom, you pushed the door closed with a soft thud, pressing your back against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath. But you were determined and horny. Your fingers trembled as you peeled off the flimsy sheer top you’d teased Trent in the whole night, your skin cooling in the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom. The mirror caught your reflection, the flush on your cheeks, the messy allure of your hair, and the way the glow of the dim light seemed to highlight every curve. You bit your lip, tilting your head as you studied your reflection, feeling bold under the influence of tequila and Trent’s attention.You grabbed your phone, angling it just right as you snapped a few photos in the mirror, each one bolder than the last. Finally, satisfied, you selected the one that captured just the right mix of sultry and confident. The thrill of the moment rushed through you as you typed out a single message.

You hit send, your heart pounding as you imagined his reaction. Across the party, Trent felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. A signal of victory. His smirk deepened as he pulled it out, casually unlocking the screen. When he saw the photo, his breath caught for a split second, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his eyes lingered on the image. You looked unreal. Without hesitation, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and straightened up, his casual demeanor hiding the urgency he felt. He didn’t bother replying; words wouldn’t cut it. He needed to see you, touch you, remind you exactly why you couldn’t stay away. As he weaved through the crowded party, his smirk stayed firmly in place. Trent Alexander-Arnold was a man on a mission, and he had every intention of making sure you regretted ever starting this game.

You waited for him, like you always had. The air in the bathroom felt thick, charged with anticipation. Your heart raced as you adjusted your stance, bracing yourself for what was to come. A soft knock broke the silence, cautious yet laced with the kind of confidence only Trent could muster. You bit your lip, smiling to yourself.

"It's me," he murmured through the door. You hummed softly in confirmation, and he didn't hesitate to slip inside. The door closed with a quiet click, and the lock turned with a finality that sent shivers down your spine. "Baby, baby, baby…," he taunted, his voice low and teasing as he leaned casually against the door. You couldn't hold back your smirk. His presence filled the small room, intoxicating and overwhelming all at once. "You going to be gracious in defeat?" he asked, his eyes dark and focused as he closed the space between you. You tilted your chin up defiantly, even as your pulse quickened.

"You never told me if you liked the top or not," you countered, your voice a soft challenge.Trent's smirk widened, predatory, as he stepped closer. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him with a force that made your breath hitch. The edge of the marble sink pressed into your back as he pinned you there, his body crowding yours.

"I think," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending a delicious shiver down your neck, "I might like you better without it.” Before you could respond, his lips descended on your neck, warm and insistent, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your knees weaken. You gasped, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders for support.

"T..." you started, but your words dissolved into a moan as his mouth trailed lower, sucking softly at the sensitive spot near your collarbone.

"You were being too obvious," he scolded lightly between kisses, his voice vibrating against your skin. You tried to protest, shaking your head.

"I wasn't..." you began, but the sentence fell apart as his teeth nipped at your neck, followed by the soothing sweep of his tongue.The sound that escaped your lips was involuntary, a mix of frustration and desire. "God, I fucking love how your lips feel on me," you breathed out, your head tilting back as he smirked against your skin, clearly pleased with himself. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you impossibly closer as he continued his slow, deliberate assault. He wasn't just kissing you-he was claiming you, reminding you that no matter how hard you tried to play coy, he would always have the upper hand.

"Say it again," he murmured, his lips hovering just over your jawline. You barely had the breath to comply, your fingers curling into his shirt.

"I love it," you whispered. "I love the way you-" Trent silenced you with his lips on yours, cutting off the confession as his mouth moved with an intensity that left you dizzy. The room spun, and for a moment, the world outside that bathroom didn't exist. "We’ll be quick and you’ll be quiet, yeah?” he said, his voice dropping and getting huskier. You looked at him in a haze, your eyes taking in his muscular frame, accentuated by the soft glow of the lighting.

“I’ll be quiet but this won’t be quick," you whispered, reaching up to caress his face. Trent's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in another passionate kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting the remnants of the liquor you'd been drinking. You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength in his arms. Breaking the kiss, Trent trailed his lips down your neck again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. He nipped at your sensitive skin, causing you to arch into him, craving more.

"I think we’re getting a little reckless," he murmured against your skin almost tauntingly.

"Absolutely," you whispered, your voice breathy with anticipation. Trent's hands came to palm your bare cheat. Finally after all night, all that teasing, behind that flimsy material, your tits were all for him. He cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp from you.

"We should maybe stop" he whispered, his breath hot on your skin. He was mocking you. He wasn’t going to stop. Not in a million years and you both knew that. You leaned back against the marble counter, allowing him access to your body.

“Definitely.” You whined as his kisses to your jaw, over it, working down your neck towards your collarbone diligently. He sucked on a sensitive spot, bitting a little with his teeth pulling at your skin. You hissed at the pain and then melted into pleasure as he continued sucking over the spot soothing it with his tongue. He placed a few more harsh bites on you leaving behind marks as your eyes rolled back in pleasure feeling his perfect lips. Trent moved over your body in what felt like slow motion as he reached your tits. You could barely think straight as his lips closed around one nipple, sucking gently at first, then with increasing urgency. His tongue teased and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You threaded your fingers into his curls, holding him close, encouraging him to continue.

"You love this, don't you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire, muffled against your skin. "You wanted to get caught.” He told you partly out of curiosity and partly out of seduction.

"Yeah," you breathed, your head falling back as he switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with equal attention. "Don't stop, please." Trent's hands traveled down your body, his fingers deftly unzipping your skirt, sliding it down your legs until you were before him in just your panties and heels. He took a step back, his eyes raking over your naked form, a look of pure admiration on his face.

“You’re fucking unreal.” He cooed a bit in disbelief caught in a place of wanted control and loosing any sense of it around you. “We’re gonna get caught, you want that baby?” he said, his voice thick with mock. You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, and reached for his belt, eager to touch him. Your fingers fumbled with the buckle, but soon you had his trousers unfastened, revealing his boxers, tented with his obvious arousal.

“Please.” You whimpered as took over, quickly shedding his pants and underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, standing proudly before you. You sank to your knees, taking him in your hands, stroking his length. Trent's breath hitched as you leaned forward, licking the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that beaded there. You took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, earning a groan of pleasure from him.

"Fuck, you're incredible," he muttered, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding your movements. You bobbed your head, taking him deeper, your throat opening to accommodate his girth. Trent's hips thrust gently, meeting your rhythm, as he savored the sensations you were providing.

“Do you like winning, baby?” You mumbled sloppy words, knowing they’d only turn him on more. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, as you sucked and teased, determined to give him the best blowjob of his life.

"I'm close, baby," he warned, his voice strained. "But you’re gonna let me come inside you, hmm?" He asked but really he was telling you. You stood, your body humming with desire. His hands pushed your hips towards the sink counter. The cold marble protruded into your back. You gasped but he swallowed it with a kiss. He lifted you up easily and placed you on the counter. The kiss was hot and heavy, his tongue immediately invading your mouth and toying with yours. He let his hand drift back down and slid one finger directly inside you eliciting another gasp from you. His sudden moments made the base of your spine tingle, but when his thumb began to draw precise circles on your clit, your body shook slightly as a deep moan got lost in his mouth. When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb into your clit harder. It didn’t take long until you came around his fingers. Your slick dripping down his hand. He pulled his fingers out slowly covered in your juices, he stuck them in your mouth and you greedily sucked his fingers licking around them like you just did his cock while he began pumping his leaking hard on with his other hand. In swift movements, he was aligning his cock with your entrance. His hands gripped your hips, positioning himself at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you, eliciting a moan of pleasure from both of you. He dropped his forehead to your chest, trying to avoid cumming on the spot.

“T, baby.” You could only manage another whine, too focused on the slow drag of his cock, you could feel every hard vein and ridge of it slowly fucking into you.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice raw. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own. The party boomed outside marrying sounds of the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin and your mutual moans of pleasure behind the closed door. Trent's hands roamed your body, squeezing your boobs, pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. He leaned down, his lips capturing one nipple, sucking and biting gently, as his hips continued their relentless pace.

"You're so good f’me baby," he panted between kisses. "Why’d you have to tease me all night. You knew I’d give you this cock tonight” He told you as you arched your back, pushing your tits into his mouth, craving more.

"I wanted it now though," you managed to say between gasps. “Wanted you to fuck me baby. You were playing with me." You tried to pout but your lips parted when Trent's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he neared his climax. He withdrew his length almost completely before slamming back into you, hitting your sweet spot with each stroke.

"Fuxk, you’re gonna make me cum again," you whispered, your nails digging into his back. His fingers dug into your skin and his head fell back. He tilted his head back up and looked directly into your eyes. Your heart skipped a bit at the attention.

“Be a good girl right now. Cum f’me. Cum on my cock while everyone is out there. Don't hold back." He told you through a grunt, his hips moving faster, his body slick with sweat. He smoothly slipped his fingers in your mouth again, stopping your words. You sucked on his fingers desperately dragging your tongue around them, split pooling in the corners of your mouth. He moaned at the sensation. He popped them out quickly though. His wet hand racked down the front of you dipping to come play with your clit. You gasped and let out a filthy moan as he started to draw tight circles around it. Your orgasm built, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you cried out, your body trembling as you came, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. “Good girl. Doing so well, baby. Told you I don’t loose” Trent said with a smile pulling across his face having to bite his lip just from the sight of seeing you cum as his cock continued to pump in and out of you. You wanted to yell at him annoyed but you couldn’t, losing felt too good. His fingers stayed playing with your clit for a little as you trembled, starting to overstimulate you.

“Baby, please cum inside me. I need you.” You begged feeling the overstimulation turn into another bout of pleasure that was consuming all your thoughts, your brain turning to mush as he continued to fuck you. You needed him to fill you up. You loved Trent having control of you, letting him fuck you hidden away in this bathroom. Layla’s cautions evaporating.

“I got you, baby. Cum for me one more time. Cum with me, yeah?” He whispered in your ear. Your pussy dripped around him. You bit your lip, looking at him with desperate doe eyes. Trent could feel the veins running along his cock throbbing. He worked his hips faster, harsher. Both of your pleasure building higher and higher. “Fuck.” Trent finally filled you, his body tensing as he emptied himself inside you, his breath hot against your neck. As your heart rates slowed, he pulled your body into his tighter. Goosebumps arose on your skin, finally able to notice the cool of the sink counter contrasting to your hot skin. He wrapped his arms around you so tightly. Your sweaty skin sticking together. The temperature in the atmosphere of the room was so humid. Your eyes stayed closed for a little, you were completely saturated with bliss. You could barely breathe but you had never felt better in your life.

“You okay, baby?” He whispered into your neck. He rested his head down on your shoulder. You took another deep breath before smiling. “Yeah?” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling his heart pounding against you.

"Shit sorry.” You apologized but Trent shook his head dismissing it. It was so reckless but he wanted this just as bad. “I hope no one heard," you confessed, tracing his jawline with your fingertips, starting to feel reality seep under the door and into the room but not being pungent enough to get your mind out of this blissful state of being in front of him. Trent's eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

"Nah, we’re okay. We’ll be okay," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours. "I got you, baby.” He told you. The sincerity in his voice kept the goosebumps raised on your skin. You giggled almost delirious, your heart fluttering with both nerves and joy at what just happened. The world outside the room started to fade back in more and more but the anxiety that came from your conversation with Layla earlier in the night had melted away entirely by the heat of Trent’s proximity.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 9 - Waiting xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

Okay! Actually last one just something quick! Mary joining you on a family day or you joining her family for the day (like day trip to a farm or like men’s footie game or smth idk) and just getting crazy baby fever seeing her playing with your/her nieces and nephews

family day out II m.earps

"are you excited to see your family love?" mary asked as she drove, squeezing your hand and flashing you a quick smile before her eyes focused back on the road. "i'm excited to see the kids. the rest of that lot, less so!" you rolled your eyes playfully as mary chuckled.

"come on baby your brothers aren't that bad!" mary defended and you gave her a firm look. "okay they can be a little bit much." the keeper admitted with a sheepish smile as she arrived to the field, starting to look for a parking spot.

"oh just you wait till you see them in action today." you chuckled knowingly, mary doing a lap of the block and finding a park a short walk away, reversing in. "sideline coaches then?" mary winced as she shut off the engine.

"sideline coaches. for six year old girls!" you shook your head with a smile, slipping out of the car and taking marys hand as the two of you started to walk.

she'd fractured a finger in training which meant she was being rested for the weekend when united were playing away. as much as you'd tried to convince her to go and watch she decided she'd rather spend the weekend with you given you'd been away all week on a work conference.

"pitch four?" you frowned in confusion your eyes scanning over the text from your brother, about a dozen seperate little fields littering the oval in front of you. "oh is that your mum? liz!" mary cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted causing you to wince as several heads swung to look at the pair of you.

"see! told you. come on baby." mary interlocked your fingers again, ignoring the mumbles of people clearly recognizing her as she pulled you over to where your family was. "mary! what a lovely surprise." your mum beamed wrapping her in a tight hug, you'd swear she liked the older girl more than you sometimes.

"she didn't tell you i was coming? typical." mary tutted as you shoved her, hugging your mum next as mary moved to hug a few more of your family members she'd met before. "mum!" you hissed, pulling your hand away as the woman held it up clearly inspecting for a ring.

"just checking darling." you rolled your eyes. "if i was engaged you'd be one of the first people to know." you chuckled, shaking your head and returning to marys side as she chatted with your brothers.

"no nicholas put me down!" you squealed as your eldest brother scooped you up off your feet into a bear hug and shook you side to side, your other brother james ruffling your hair aggressively as you shot them both a glare and they dropped you back to your feet.

"honestly a couple of children." you huffed fixing your hair making mary smile and pull you into her side, kissing the side of your head. "where's the kids?" you questioned, unable to spot your neice or nephews anywhere. "gracie's warming up with her team and the boys are...somewhere." nick frowned, admittedly not having seen them for a while.

"dad of the year mate!" you patted him on the shoulder, wrapping his wife alice into a hug as she appeared. "oh there they are! boys!" nick shouted loudly, waving them over from where they were off climbing a tree in the car park.

the twins raced over as you braced, both of them crash tackling into you as you stumbled with a laugh but hugged the eight year olds tightly. "thing one, thing two." you teased as they started to bicker over who was which number.

"oh you brought aunty mary!" noah spotted your girlfriend off chatting with your mum, your heart melting as both the twins faces lit up and they let go of you sprinting over to see her. "she's good with them." james smiled beside you, both of you watching as your girlfriend slung jack over her shoulder and sprinted off, noah chasing after her with a laugh.

"she's great with kids, really really great." you sighed, your mind drifting a little about what she would be like with your own kids. "oi ground control to major tom!" you were snapped out of it as your brother smacked your forehead harshly.

"noah, jack, come here please!" you called, noticing a small crowd of people had gathered around your girlfriend wanting photos, watching her face shift as she glanced nervously to the twins clearly not wanting them photographed.

she looked up and mouthed an apology as you waved her off, distracting the boys as she busied herself meeting and greeting the small crowd. "not every day a lioness comes to our dear little club." nick teased as you carefully watched to make sure mary was okay, simply humming.

you saw her excuse herself, pointing to where you stood with your family with an apologetic smile, the crowd thankfully respectful of her wishes and leaving her be as she made her way back. "superstar returns!" james teased her as you punched him in the arm, mary only chuckling and apologising.

"no need love, it's part of your job. you're a fabulous role model for the young ones!" your mum assured her with a soft smile before turning back to her conversation with your aunt, applause starting as the girls started to line up and you all took your seats.

mary tugged you to sit on her lap on the camp chair she occupied, kissing your cheek making you smile. "proud of you." you caressed her cheek with a tender gaze. "for what?" she smiled but with a hint of confusion.

"being you. my mums not wrong, you're a brilliant player but you're such a positive public figure too. you're changing the game and the world for kids like gracie and her team, and i couldn't be prouder of you for it." you promised, leaning in to peck her lips and grinning as her cheeks blushed bright red.

"right enough of that then you'll make me cry." she dismissed as you chuckled, settling into her as her arms wrapped around you and the pair of you cheered alongside your family as the whistle blew for the game to start.

your niece caught your eye on the sideline, face lighting up as she gave you an aggressive wave and a toothy grin. "mary! can you play please?" noah popped up beside you holding a football with a hopeful look.

"go love. it's a round robin there's a few games today!" you encouraged, standing up as mary kissed your cheek appreciatively causing your nephew to gag. "ohh watch out, i'll come and kiss your cheek next!" mary warned, chasing after him with a grin as you shook your head and settled back down.

"you did so good gracie! two goals!!" you cheered, sweeping her up into a hug, her team having won three out of their four games today and your brothers being surprisingly well behaved had meant for a lovely day out.

"we've gotta work on your celebrations." you teased, tickling her and placing her down as she raced over to greet the rest of your family. your nephews still playing with mary on a free field you smiled seeing how good and patient she was with them, having mediated many an argument between the twins today.

you waved her over as she caught your eye, catching one of noahs shots and challenging them to a race back, taking off and letting the boys win as all three of them returned.

"hello!" you grunted as noah launched at you, clinging onto your leg and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. "what?" you laughed knowing he wanted something, catching mary squat down to hug gracie out of the corner of your eye once more melting your heart.

"can we pleasee have a sleepover at your house tonight? aunty mary said it was okay with her if it was okay with you!" he pleaded, hugging your leg even tighter as you chuckled and brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

"if your mum and dad say yes then thats fine." you agreed as he cheered loudly and raced off to check in. "can i come too?" mary appeared beside you with gracie in her arms, tickling her sides as you grinned at her little giggles.

"you aren't tired babe? you've been running around today more than mary does in a whole season!" you teased, your girlfriend pinching your sides with her free hand for the comment. "goal keepers are the unsung heros of the team." gracie repeated making your girlfriend grin.

"very true! you're so wise gracie." mary gasped squeezing her tightly before putting her back down. "mm wonder where she's heard that from?" you tutted, shaking your head at the taller girl who grinned.

"no idea? kid just knows how it is i guess!" mary shrugged feigning innocence, tugging your body into hers and pecking your lips a few times. "now now you two there's children about! save it for the bedroom." your brothers teased as you flipped them off, hastily dropping your finger as the kids appeared, all cheering happily that they were allowed to sleepover.

"are you sure you're right with all three of them?" alice asked worriedly, both you and mary assuring you'd be fine. "gives the two of you a night yourselves as well. go have a nice dinner or something!" you smiled, agreeing the kids would go home to grab their things and your brother would drop them off in a couple of hours.

"yeah. piece of cake! we love kids."

turns out, it was not a piece of cake.

"ah gracie don't touch that please, it's hot babe." you warned, quick to grab her hand where it reached for the stove top where you were attempting to cook dinner, but with three lively kids running about it was anything but.

"nope! noah don't chase your brother with that please!" you were quick to snatch one of marys trophies out of his grasp and place it out of reach. "why!" he whined with a huff, stomping his foot. "it's sharp buddy, if you slip and fall you could hurt yourself." you put firmly but gently.

"yeah and if you break my trophy mate i'll hang you upside down from the stairs by your ankles!" mary pounced on him causing laughs to ring out as he called for help and mary grunted as now all three kids latched onto her.

"i told you the ice cream was a bad idea mary." you warned her with a scowl, the keeper wincing apologetically. "okay! new plan." she yelled out, both boys dropping off of her as gracie remained hugging her leg tightly.

"football in the backyard. first one to score against me gets to choose what movie we watch after dinner!" mary clapped, footsteps thundering outside as they raced one another out to the goals and you sighed in relief at the sudden peace and quiet.

"smells divine. i love you!" marys hands grabbed your face, pulling you into a kiss and mumbling an apology against your lips. "mm better be earps. go tire em out!" with that you swatted her bum with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"excuse me there is children running about here young lady! cheeky." mary gasped playfully, stealing one more kiss before running out to the backyard. without them underneath your feet you were able to focus a little more on dinner, still watching out with a tender smile at your girlfriend messing about in the backyard.

as you started to dish everything up again you couldn't help but allow your mind to wander about what it would be like with your own kids with mary, the two of you had been together two years now and in your late twenties you knew it was something you wanted.

"dinner!" you yelled out the back door once everything was dished up and ready on the table. "ah! shoes off, wash hands and wash....faces?" you spoke with a puzzled look at the dirt smeared over all four of them, your girlfriend included.

"yeah look the game got pretty intense babe, i'm talking euros final sort of stuff." mary whistled as you hummed, just smiling in amusement as the four of them left their shoes outside and raced off to the bathroom to wash up.

"oh yes! wiggle those hips noah thats it, full rotation!" you laughed from the kitchen, watching on as mary stood on the coffee table clapping. your nephews and neice danced around the living room below her, fed, showered and changed after much argument and fuss.

mary again allowing them to have ice cream after dinner their energy levels had surged, so she was now giving them a dance class in an attempt to tire them out as you washed everything up from dinner.

"very good gracie! love it love it." mary cheered, the song changing as you sighed knowing the catchy childrens tunes would now likely be stuck in your head for the next week.

"okay! movie time, aunty mary is exhausted." your girlfriend announced, shutting off the music after another twenty minutes and collapsing onto the lounge with a dramatic groan.

"right! jack you won, what are we watching?" you joined them, grabbing the remote as your nephew pondered for a moment. "peter pan!" he announced after a few seconds.

"your dads raising you right, fabulous choice."

the movie almost finished you'd gently moved a dead asleep gracie off your chest and stepped out for a moment to take a call from your brother who'd returned from dinner, assuring him everything was fine.

you agreed to drop the kids off around ten the next morning, mary having already promised to make them pancakes once they woke up in an attempt to calm them down earlier after dinner.

wishing him goodbye you returned to the living room, your heart absolutely melting into a puddle at the sight before you as you did. mary was dead asleep on the other end of the lounge, noah tucked in between her legs, jacks head on her lap and gracie tucked into her side.

snapping a few photos on your phone with a soft smile you took in the sight for a few more moments, turning off the tv and gently moving to pick gracie up, the young girl stirring but staying asleep as you gently carried her upstairs to bed.

tucking her in you kissed her forehead and returned downstairs. "mary, love." you whispered, running a hand through the keepers hair who thankfully was quite a light sleeper, her eyes fluttering open.

"hi sleepyhead." you chuckled as she stretched, careful not to move or wake the twins. "can you grab jack and i'll grab noah please?" she nodded tiredly as you lifted your nephew with a slight grunt, his head slumping to your shoulder.

mary flicked off the lights as you both carried the boys upstairs, tucking them in beside gracie, the three of them easily fitting into the king sized spare bed, gently closing the door with a soft click.

"you do know we'll be waking up with at least one of them in here yeah?" you smiled knowingly as the two of you collapsed into bed after brushing your teeth, mary only laughing in response.

"hi." the keeper smiled as you pressed your forehead to hers, exchanging a few sweet kisses and i love you's before she reached over to flick the lamp off.

"mary." you started, the older girl humming, your back tucked into her front as her arms held you tightly. "seeing you with the kids today...you're so great with them." you admitted, rolling onto your other side to look at her.

"i love them, they're great kids." mary smiled softly, running a hand through your hair fondly. "do you think about having kids one day?" you blurted out suddenly, cheeks flushing red as her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden question.

"sorry that was very forward." you groaned, tucked your face into her neck in embarrassment as she only chuckled. "i do baby, all the time." mary admitted, nudging your head back out to look at her, soft smile on her features.

"really?" "really."

"so do i." you spoke, smile curling onto your own lips. "we could-" mary started but stopped. "no go on love." you encouraged, thumb stroking the curvature of her jaw.

"we could make an appointment to go speak to someone about everything, get some more information, if you wanted to." she hurried through her words, worried for your reaction if everything suddenly became real.

"i do my love, i really really do."

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