#i would not be lying if I said the main reason I went was to see bumpy lol.

[rocksibblingsau]

The TBT got me thinking about the movie's writing again, so here's some thoughts. Clay being the only one to get an on-screen apologize doesn't make any sense narrative wise.

When you look exclusively at what's implicitly canon (so no 'he was at the tree that whole time' headcanons, even if they make some sense), Clay is the least in need of apologizing compared to the other three. Bruce is slightly more in need of apologizing than him because he was the second eldest and second to leave, but this point is not about him, it's about how it should have been either JD or Floyd (ideally it would be all of them apologizing actually, but again, not about that rn)

John Dory is practically the main force behind the movie's plot and emotional conflict, so we're talking about him first. John Dory in the movies, well, he kinda sucks a lot of ass. During the Brozone days, he was very bossy, overbearing, lowkey emotional/verbally abusive and the first to leave them all while being the oldest and implied to be their only caretaker outside of their elderly grandma. And even though some people give Clay and Bruce shit for how they behaved towards JD during the Rhonda fight scene, they were RIGHT, he was being bossy and a dick during that scene, and while all the bros were at fault about how they treated Branch during it, he was also the worst of them (like he was the only one who not only denied they would stay together after saving Floyd, but also actually made fun of Branch for even thinking so). And that is without mentioning how he got the the three of them trapped later in the film in the stupidest way possible.

This is NOT to say that he is some kinda of unredeemable abusive monster, no, even if its not said out loud in the movie, its left pretty implicit that he had his reasons for acting the way he did and that he was under a lot of stress himself running the band and caring for his 4 younger brothers while likely being a kid himself during the Brozone days. BUT, after all that, it feels so strange to have the time for one singular apologize apparently and to not give it to HIM of all people. He giving Branch the lead during the Family Harmony is the only thing he does that implies he changed his way after ALL of that, even Venner gets more redeemable qualities than that!

It just makes his storyline feel incomplete honestly, like the movie only bothers to drop slight hints that this man doesn't completely suck and then turns around and both doesn't build up further on those hints AND doesn't make him do anything to redeem himself with Branch and any of his other brothers.

And if for whatever reason it wasn't going to be John, why not Floyd??? I don't even care that much that we don't get a reason for why Floyd never went back, its kinda even implied that he never intended to come back and was just trying to comfort Branch by lying, but again, if you're going to set aside time for one-on-one apologizes after everything is set and done, why not use it for tying up one of the main story points set in the begging of the movie.

Is like they even forgot that they set up Floyd promising to come back and never doing so, because as far as I remember (could be wrong tho), after the introduction, Branch only refers to Floyd as "the only one who said goodbye". With for Branch's character makes sense really, but for the narrative feels plain unsatisfactory. It sets time aside to set up out loud that something was supposed to happen and it never did (crucially affecting the trajectory of the main character's life) and it just... never brought up again. No excuse, no Im sorry for that actually, no anything. Instead we get Clay, which in the movie, has no special relationship or plotline with Branch compared to the rest whatsoever, being the one that gets to have on-screen closure. Why?????

In conclusion, the movie could have an 100% better script and tighter emotional conclusion if they had just let the writers have two even ONE extra rewrites. But not, instead we get two plotlines that likely will never get resolved because got forbid this franchise actually has a proper continuity between films yippeeeeee

(Im truly sorry for this ramble, I just have too many thoughts and too little friends that even know what Trolls are, and by too little I do mean actual zero. Hope you enjoyed it at least, if not, Im sorry again)

I agree that Clay was the one Troll who had a good reason he never got to go back and visit or anything. It was definitely weird that he was the only one who apologized for never getting to see Branch grow up, but I think it says a lot about his character that he did.

[foreverisntenough]

‘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!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 10 - So Different | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.4k

Trent laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a storm he couldn’t quiet. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound jolting him momentarily out of his haze. Jack’s name lit up the screen, but Trent didn’t move to answer it. He couldn’t. The guilt was suffocating. Every time Jack called, every time Trent saw his name flash across his phone, it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest. He couldn’t face him. Couldn’t lie to him. Couldn’t explain to his best friend that the reason he’d been distant wasn’t some random funk but the unbearable heartbreak of losing you. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. He was coming to realize, you were his person, his peace, the one he went to when everything else felt like too much. And now, you were gone, and Trent didn’t know how to function without you. Since that night, he’d gone completely off the grid. He showed up for training, went through the motions, and then went straight home. He couldn’t bring himself to see anyone, to pretend he was okay when he wasn’t. His chest ached constantly, a dull, throbbing pain that he didn’t know how to soothe. He thought about you constantly. The way you’d cried, the way your voice broke. The look in your eyes. It haunted him. He replayed it over and over, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Was it the secrecy? The guilt? The fear of what Jack and the others would think?

You hadn’t said, ‘Why don’t we just tell them?’ And so, he hadn’t. He’d been too afraid, too consumed by the what-ifs. But now, lying there in the quiet of his room, he wondered if things could have been different if he’d just had the courage to say, I love her. I don’t care what anyone thinks. His phone buzzed again, and he turned his head to look at it. Jack was calling again, and for a fleeting moment, Trent considered answering. But what would he say? How could he explain that he was grieving the loss of you, the girl he was never supposed to fall for but couldn’t help loving? He turned his face into the pillow, the tears coming unbidden. He missed you so much it hurt. He missed your laugh, your smile, the way you made him feel like the best version of himself. He missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms, the way your lips felt against his. He missed you. But he couldn’t have you. He’d made his choice that night, torn between his desire to console you, to pull you into his arms and make you stop crying, and the guilt and fear of Jack finding out. He’d walked away, and now, he was paying the price. Trent closed his eyes, his chest tightening with the weight of it all. He felt like he was losing both of you—you and Jack. He couldn’t talk to his best friend about it, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t even pick up the phone. He was trapped in his own guilt and heartbreak, unable to see a way out. Day in and day out, he lay there, caught in a trance, replaying every moment, every word, every touch. He didn’t know how to move forward without you, didn’t know if he even wanted to. All he knew was that he’d never felt this way before, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would again.

You weren’t fairing all that well yourself. You curled up on your bed, muffling your sobs into the pillow, hoping the sound wouldn’t carry through the walls. But Jack had already noticed. He’d been noticing for days—the way you avoided him, the lack of your usual energy, the way your eyes always looked on the verge of tears. Jack wasn’t one to pry, but this time, he couldn’t stay silent. You heard the knock at your door, a quiet but firm tap, tap, tap.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was soft, cautious. “Can I come in?” You froze, wiping your face quickly, though you knew it was pointless.

“Yeah,” you croaked, your voice betraying you. The door creaked open, and Jack stepped inside. His expression shifted instantly when he saw you, eyes red and swollen, clutching your pillow like a lifeline. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, taking it in.

“Come here, what’s gotten into you?” he asked finally, his voice gentle as he opened his arms. You hesitated, guilt twisting in your stomach, but the look on his face broke you. Slowly, you got up and walked into his embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around you, the tears came again, harder this time, like a dam breaking.Jack held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing slow circles on your back. “Hey, you’re okay,” he murmured. “Just breathe for me, yeah?” You tried to, but the sobs kept coming. After a long moment, Jack pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he searched your face. “What’s going on, Y/N? Talk to me. Who’s got ya like this? Is fucking Josh again?” The question hit you like a truck. Who. Not what. He already knew this wasn’t about work or anything trivial. He knew it was someone. You shook your head, pulling away from his touch, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively. 

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m fine. Really.” Jack’s brows furrowed, his concern deepening. 

“Y/N, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out. I’m your brother. Just… tell me who it is, and I’ll sort them out.” He cooed with a sympathetic smik. You laughed weakly through the tears, the irony of his words hitting you. If only he knew.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jack stepped closer, his hands gentle on your arms. 

“Why not? You know I’d do anything for you, right? Just tell me, and we’ll fix it together.” You shook your head more forcefully this time, the guilt washing over you in waves. You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him. Not when it was Trent. Not when it was his best friend. Not when it would ruin everything. Not when you had betrayed him. 

“I just can’t, Jack,” you said once over, your voice cracking as fresh tears streamed down your face. “I’ve already lost so much over this. You’ll be mad and I can’t lose you too.” Jack’s face softened, but he still looked confused, like he was trying to piece together a puzzle without all the pieces. 

“Y/N, you’re not gonna lose me,” he said firmly. “You can tell me anything, you know that.” But you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk it. Jack was all you had left, and if he knew the truth, you weren’t sure you’d survive the fallout.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, stepping back toward the bed. “I just… I need to figure this out on my own.” Jack looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed and nodded, his hands falling to his sides. 

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “But if you change your mind, I’m here, alright? Always.” You nodded, biting your lip to keep from breaking down again. When he finally left the room, closing the door behind him, the silence felt deafening. You sank back onto the bed, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You made a decision then. You couldn’t keep doing this—to yourself, to Trent, to Jack. The guilt was eating you alive, and the secrecy was tearing everything apart. It was time to end it. For good.

The week of silence was unbearable. Days stretched into nights, with every moment consumed by guilt, longing, and the reality of what you had both built under Jack’s unsuspecting gaze. For so long, you’d tried to ignore the weight of it all, but now the cracks were too wide, the guilt too heavy. You couldn’t breathe. When you finally stood on Trent’s doorstep, your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. You hadn’t texted or called; you’d just shown up, your emotions too raw for words. Trent opened the door, his brows furrowing in surprise when he saw you standing there. His hair was still damp from a shower, his face soft and unguarded. 

“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with concern. “What are you—”

“We can’t do it anymore,” you interrupted, your voice trembling, already on the verge of tears. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” The words hit him like a blow to the chest. For a moment, he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Just..” He couldn’t even talk before he instinctively reached for you, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against him, the weight of your words crashing down as sobs racked your body. His strong arms held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head as if he could shield you from the pain you were feeling. “Don’t say that,” he murmured into your hair, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t say that.” But you couldn’t stop. 

“I can’t keep lying to Jack,” you whispered against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “I can’t keep lying to myself. This… this isn’t right, T. It’s not right.” Desperation flickered in his eyes as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. 

“I know,” he admitted softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I know it’s not fair to you. Or to him. But…” He trailed off, his words faltering under the weight of his emotions. The silence between you was heavy, the tension palpable. And then, as if drawn together by some unseen force, his lips found yours. The kiss was desperate, full of unspoken words and heartbreak. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured everything you couldn’t say into that moment. Before you knew it, the two of you were in his room, tangled in his sheets, your bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a last-ditch effort to hold onto something slipping away. When it was over, the silence returned, heavier than before. You lay in his arms, your cheek pressed against his chest as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. He pressed a kiss to your hair, a soft hum escaping him. The tenderness in that simple gesture broke something inside you. You sniffled, tears slipping down your cheeks once more. 

“This has to be it,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Okay?” You whimpered.

“Okay,” he replied, his voice low and full of sadness. He tightened his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple. “But Y/N… can you just stay though? Just for tonight?”  He meekly asked you, his tone desperate. Your breath hitched as his words hit you. 

“Trent…” You cautioned him already struggling to will your body away from his.

“I didn’t know it’d be our last night,” he continued, his voice trembling. “And I just… I just want to remember it right.” You nodded silently, your tears soaking into his skin. You didn’t have the strength to say no, not when he held you like that, not when you could feel his heart breaking beneath your hand.

“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. But Trent didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was hold you tighter, his silence speaking volumes. The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of goodbye hanging heavy in the air. You knew this was the end, but for now, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourselves to pretend that it wasn’t.

The morning was heavy with unspoken words as you pulled your clothes on, trying to keep your composure. The air between you and Trent was thick, weighted with everything that had gone wrong and everything that still felt so heartbreakingly right. As you made your way toward the door, Trent followed, his steps slow and hesitant, like he was trying to draw out the moment. 

“Y/N, Stay,” he said quietly, his voice cracking just enough to break your resolve. “We can figure this out. Please.” You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, your back turned to him. Tears threatened to spill again, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore. You didn’t want to feel this ache that had embedded itself so deeply into your chest.

“Please don’t make this harder,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you turned to face him. The look on his face nearly destroyed you—his eyes filled with a mix of desperation and heartbreak, his hands hanging helplessly at his sides.

“I’m not trying to make it harder,” he said, taking a step closer. “I just—this, us—it means something to me. You mean something to me. I can’t…” His voice faltered, and he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “I can’t let you go like this.” You shook your head, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“You’re saying that because we’re behind closed doors, T… but that’s not the problem.” He shut his eyes, his jaw tightening as if the words physically hurt him. You knew he wanted to say something, to fight back, to convince you that it didn’t matter where you were, as long as you were together. But deep down, he knew you were right. As you reached for your bag, something poked you in the side, reminding you of what you’d brought with you. A lump formed in your throat as you pulled it out, the tattered book of poems looking smaller in your hands than it had when you first tucked it away.

“I forgot…” you started, your voice barely audible. “I want you to have this.” You extended the book toward him, and he hesitated for a moment before taking it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch sent a jolt through your body, one final reminder of what you were about to lose. “I’m sorry for what I said the other night,” you said, your voice breaking as fresh tears began to blur your vision. “You are the furthest thing from nothing to me. You are everything, in fact. You are it all, T.” His hands shook slightly as he took the book. 

“Please don’t do this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. When he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with a pain so raw it made your chest tighten. “Don’t go. I’m begging you.” You couldn’t stop the tears now, and they fell freely as you took a step back, creating the distance you knew you needed to survive this. 

“I have to,” you choked out. His hand clenched around the book, holding it close to his chest like it was the only piece of you he’d have left.  Trent’s fingers trembled as he turned the fragile pages of the book, the faint scent of aged paper filling the air. It didn’t take long until he started to notice the black ink penned in a handwriting he’d only seen a number of times in birthday cards. His head was almost hurting because he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t yours. His eyes scanned the handwritten notes in the margins, each word was a delicate imprint of your mum’s love and care, left behind like breadcrumbs leading back to her. The book flopped open on it’s own by its worn seam to a page you’d pressed the flower he’d given you the other week. His heart hurt more than his head at that moment. And then he saw it—why you’d marked the page - a line your mum had circled and underlined, her handwriting curling beside it with a note that seemed to reach through time:

'Even though we never said it to each other - We knew'

'Always reminds me of you and TAA—tell him one day, okay?'

His breath caught, his chest tightening as though the air had been stolen from the room. His grip on the book wavered, his fingers brushing against the daisy you had carefully pressed between the pages, a small but profound reminder of the park, of the simple, unguarded moments you shared. The lump in his throat was unbearable as he felt the weight of everything—the love, the grief, the guilt—all crashing down at once. 

“I know this didn’t work, but…” You stood there, knowing he’d read it, barely holding it together, your voice breaking as you forced yourself to speak. 

“Stop,” Trent cut you off, his voice shaky but insistent, the emotion barely contained. His movements were deliberate as he placed the book down on the counter, as if it were sacred. Then, with no hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, like letting go would shatter him completely. “We’re not doing this,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking. “We’re not nothing. I know we’re not. You know we’re not… She knew we weren’t. Y/N please.” The conviction in his words only made the ache in your chest swell. You buried your face in his chest, tears spilling freely now, soaking into his shirt. 

“I’m so scared, Trent,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You felt like in a way you’d disappoint your mum in giving up this but it was terrifying to love him. He was no longer a school boy, he was larger than life. “I’m so scared I’m just the girl of the season to you. That I’ll lose you, Jack, everyone. I can’t do this again. I can’t…” You confessed amidst your tears. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, his hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you even closer. 

“You’re not,” he whispered fiercely, the words shaking with emotion. “You’re not the girl of the season. You’ve been the girl of every season. My only season. You’ve been every single one.” His words cracked something deep inside you, but they didn’t erase the fear. You pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, your tears making the world blur around you. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, your voice breaking on every syllable.  “I don’t know how to keep everyone happy and not lose you at the same time. I feel like I’m losing everything.” His hands came to rest on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as his forehead gently touched yours. His voice softened, but it carried an unshakable strength. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. “We don’t have to have all the answers now. Just stay with me, baby. We can sort this.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as you shook your head, the weight of the situation suffocating you. 

“This isn’t right,” you whimpered, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “None of this is right.”

“Stay,” he begged softly, his voice raw and unguarded. “Please don’t leave me like this.” You sobbed into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing anchoring you in the storm of your emotions. His grip on you tightened, his own tears threatening to spill as he pressed a desperate kiss to your hair. You nodded through your sobs, too broken to speak, your hands clutching at him like he was your last tether to hope. But even as you let yourself sink into the safety of his arms, the doubts lingered, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of you. The unsaid love was there, undeniable and unrelenting, but so was the pain, and neither of you knew how to make it stop. Trent looked at the book carefully, his fingers trembling as he reached towards it with one hand. a centimeter of the daisy still delicately pressed inside sticking out. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before turning to you, his gaze steady despite the rawness between you both. “Keep this,” he said, his voice soft but resolute as he picked it up. “She left more in there than an annotation about me.” He smiled sympathetically at you. He’d glanced at the pages before his name appeared, and although it was brief he understood your mum purposefully left this book for you. It was a way for her to communicate with you, to support you through situations you might face after she was gone. “You keep all the other stuff. I don’t need any more if I know she was on board because I’m not going anywhere… that’s all I needed to know.” His certainty was like a balm against the ache in your chest, but the weight of everything still loomed heavy in your mind. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“But if this doesn’t work… T, I can’t” you started, the fear in your words palpable. Trent stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching a stray tear. 

“Then I’ll still be here,” he told you firmly, his voice tinged with quiet determination. “I just told you. I'm not leaving.” His words wrapped around your heart, pulling at every fragile piece of you. 

“But how can you be so sure?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you searched his eyes for answers. “I didn’t mean for this to be a guilt trip. I just wanted you to know…” You babbled as your tears ran down your cheeks. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice steady and calm. 

“It’s not… And… I know… because you’re it for me. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We’ll try, yeah?” You nodded sheepishly, your heart warring with your fears, but his certainty felt like a light in the darkness. “Gonna give it a try, hmm?” he asked softly, his lips ghosting over your forehead in a tender kiss. This time, your nod was more sure, a small smile breaking through the tears. 

“Okay,” you murmured. And in that moment, with the weight of the book in his hands and the promise hanging between you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward.

The next morning, the doorbell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Jack had already left for work, leaving you to shuffle to the door, still in your pajamas. You opened it to find not one but four massive flower arrangements towering in front of you. You blinked, confused, as the delivery man smiled politely and gestured for you to sign.

“Someone really likes you,” he remarked, handing you a small card after you’d awkwardly squeezed the arrangements inside. The arrangements were stunning—each one so different. One was a soft white and cream, delicate and elegant. Another burned bright with orangey-red hues, vibrant and warm. The third was lush with deep greens, earthy and grounding, and the last shimmered in an unexpected blue, rare and calming. You stood there for a moment, staring at the kaleidoscope of colors, trying to piece it together. Then you opened the card.

'To the girl I’ve let wait too many seasons—will you please let me take you out for a proper date?'

You laughed through your tears, the emotions of the past weeks bubbling over at once. The note continued, listing specific details about when and where he wanted to meet you, but you could barely read through the happy blur in your eyes. It was so him, so thoughtful, and yet so immediate—like he couldn’t stand another second without making his words from the night before a reality. The concept of girl of the season really was about his football season but the fact that flowers went beyond that. It was one for each season of the year; spring, summer, autumn, and winter. All there to signify, you were more than just a football season to him and he wanted you to know that. You held the card to your chest, tears still slipping down your cheeks as giggles broke through. He had acted quickly, proving he meant every word, every promise. Trent was asking, not waiting. Not hiding. This time, he was yours, out loud, in full color. And all you could think was… finally.

When Trent typed your address into his phone to send the delivery, his chest tightened with a familiar pang of guilt. It wasn’t just your address—it was Jack’s too. That nagging feeling of betrayal washed over him as his thumb hovered above the screen, memories from years ago creeping back unbidden. He could still hear Jack’s voice, clear as day, as if it were happening all over again. They were in Jack’s room, sprawled out after school, the usual banter bouncing around the group. A newer guy to their circle, loud and brash, had just moved to town and had made an offhand remark about you after seeing a picture on Jack’s phone.

“Is this your sister, mate? Fuck off! She’s well fit,” the guy had said, smirking. It wasn’t even a serious comment, but Jack’s reaction was immediate and sharp.

“Oi, Off-limits,” Jack had snapped, his tone firm and brooking no argument. He glanced around the room then, making sure everyone understood. “If that wasn’t already clear, no one moves to Y/N.” There was a beat of awkward silence before Noah, always the one to push a joke too far, broke it. 

“Come on, mate! What if she likes us? Girls move to me! What if she moves to me, huh?” He teased. Jack didn’t even crack a smile. 

“Nah. If she has feelings for ya, too bad.” Trent had sat quietly on the edge of the bed, his face carefully neutral, but the way Jack’s eyes flickered toward him didn’t go unnoticed. It was subtle, just a moment, but it lingered. Jack’s expression softened briefly before he looked away.

“Maybe…” Jack muttered under his breath, something unsaid hanging heavy in the room. But then, just as quickly, he turned back to Noah, snapping back into his usual banter. “But she’s not interested in you, mate. You’re a charity case.” The rest of the room burst into laughter, and the moment was gone, buried under their usual teasing. But Trent hadn’t laughed. He had felt something then, a pang of disappointment mixed with the quiet realization that Jack knew. Maybe Jack didn’t know the extent of it, but he’d always known there was something unspoken between you and Trent. And now here Trent was, years later, actively crossing the line Jack had drawn so clearly. He wasn’t a clueless teenager anymore, and the weight of what he was doing—and who he was risking—felt heavier than ever. But then his thoughts shifted to you. The way you’d looked at him the night before, your voice shaking as you’d told him he was everything, even when you thought you were losing him. That was enough to push the guilt aside, if only for a moment.

You called Layla that morning from your bedroom, your voice still thick with emotion but tinged with something lighter-relief, excitement, maybe even disbelief.

"When I tell you I was sobbing," you started, gripping the the edge of your dresser as you tried to steady your voice. "I was a mess, Layla. But then —he literally sent me flowers today. Like four arrangements. Four!" You explained. Layla didn't even pause before diving in, her tone pitched halfway between glee and exasperation.

"Finally! I've been screaming 'about time' since the first time you finally hooked up! That man's been fucking you for ages and he's just now asking you on a date?" She fell into giggles. You couldn't help but laugh, your cheeks heating even as you rolled your eyes.

"Layla! Can we not put it like that?" You tried to fight back a laugh.

"But I'm right!" she shot back. "It's been this whole dramatic saga of hiding and sneaking and you ending up crying at all hours because he's scared. And finally, he's putting it out there. I'm sorry, but I'm thrilled." You sighed, glancing at the arrangements. 

"It feels... so different this time. He said he wants to do it right. He called me the girl of every season." Your voice cracked on the last few words, the weight of everything hitting you all over again. Layla softened instantly. 

"Oh, babe. That's what you've wanted to hear, yeah? That he's sure. That he's not just scared of what Jack and the boys think but ready to fight for you." She cooed. You nodded even though she couldn't see you, tears pooling in your eyes. 

"It's just...so much. I feel like I'm still holding my breath. Like, what if it's too good to be true?" You asked her sheepishly. 

"Then let him prove it's not," Layla said firmly. "You've already been through the worst of it. Let him show you he's ready for the best of it." You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but...l think he is. Is that bad?” You asked her hesitantly hoping she’d almost lie to you if she felt otherwise. But Layla answered honestly, always. 

"No. This is good, Y/N, I can feel it," she said. "I''m so happy for you. Now we just let him sweep you off your feet properly. And wear something hot. You deserve to make him sweat." She told you very matter of fact and your mind began to work in overdrive after that imagining what you possibly had in your wardrobe that was fit for the occasion of all occasions; your first proper date with your brother’s best friend.

When the evening came, getting ready for the date felt surreal. You’d spent so long imagining this moment, and now that it was happening, the weight of it settled over you like a heavy, fluttering blanket. The mirror reflected your carefully chosen outfit, but your nerves made you question everything—was it too much? Not enough? Layla’s voice echoed in your head: Make him sweat. When the doorbell rang, your heart lurched. Trent was at your house. For a date. You opened the door with a shy smile, and Trent’s reaction stole whatever breath you had left. 

Trent had stepped out of the car, his heart already thudding in his chest as he approached the front door. For a split second, he hesitated, the weight of everything—Jack, the years of denying his feelings, the risks—hitting him all at once. This was your house, but it was also Jack’s house, and the lines between those roles had always blurred in his mind. You weren’t supposed to be this person for him. You weren’t supposed to be his. But when the door opened, and you stepped out to greet him, all of that disappeared. Everything—Jack, the past, the unspoken boundaries—faded into nothing. All that was left was you. And you were breathtaking. He blinked, stunned, as his eyes drank you in. You were wearing a black Saint Laurent mini dress that clung to your figure in all the right ways, the fabric draping elegantly across your body. The deep V neckline hinted at so much but revealed just enough to keep it tasteful, leaving him completely undone. The simplicity of the dress only heightened how stunning you looked, and Trent couldn’t believe this was the same girl he used to see in oversized jumpers and trainers, lounging on Jack’s sofa. You didn’t look like Jack’s sister anymore. You didn’t even look like the girl he’d been secretly pining for all this time. You looked like his.

“Wow,” he finally managed, his voice low and a little hoarse. He shook his head, clearly taken aback as his eyes swept over you slowly. He couldn’t stop staring, his gaze trailing from your perfectly styled hair down to the way the dress skimmed your thighs, then back up to meet your eyes. “You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to find the right words.  He didn’t even finish the thought, just stepped closer and brushed a hand down your arm as if grounding himself.

“I look…?” Your nerves melted a little at his touch, and you dared to tease him. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple. 

“You look perfect. Unreal…”  He cooed. A shy smile crept across your lips as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you murmured softly, feeling the intensity of his gaze. Trent took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he reached for you.

 “You don’t look like…” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous it would sound to say, you don’t look like Jack’s sister right now. Instead, he smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in closer. “You look like you. But more. If that makes sense.” Your smile widened, your cheeks flushing. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, trying to ease the tension that was crackling between you. But Trent didn’t laugh. He couldn’t. His eyes were too busy tracing the way the soft lighting from the porch framed your face, making your features glow. You weren’t just beautiful—you were magnetic. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something more than affection—something closer to awe. 

“Hold my hand.” His words were so simple, but the warmth in them settled your nerves as you slipped your hand into his. His fingers gently brushing yours before intertwining, his grip reassuring. He gently tugged on your hand, pulling you toward him as he bent down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment.  And as he led you to the car, his heart racing and his mind whirling, all Trent could think was how wrong he’d been to ever believe you were off limits. You weren’t just something he wanted anymore. You were something he couldn’t imagine letting go. As you walked toward the car waiting outside, the weight of the situation loomed again. You hesitated, beginning to voice your lingering fear. Your anxiety if you should even be holding his hand here in front of the house skyrocketing. 

“Are you…?” You began to speak but Trent didn’t let you finish. 

“Yeah, I’m really sure.” His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering as he glanced down at you. He traced his thumb along the back of your hand, his certainty radiating through his touch. The tension in your chest loosened, and you let out a soft hum of approval. 

“Okay.” You leaned in, kissing his shoulder as the two of you reached the car. Trent smiled down at you, opening the door with care. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something real.

The restaurant’s ambiance was a perfect blend of understated elegance and intimacy. The flickering candlelight reflected off the polished wood of your table, casting soft shadows that danced across Trent’s face. The low hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter from other diners barely registered; your world felt narrowed to the man sitting across from you. Trent was watching you intently, his eyes never straying far from yours. It was as though he was memorizing every detail, every expression, and every shift in your mood. You took a sip of your wine, savoring the moment, but before you could set your glass down, Trent leaned forward. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth, catching a droplet of the deep red, his touch light but deliberate.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. His thumb lingered for a few seconds longer. You blinked, caught off guard by the tender gesture. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible as your cheeks heated. You ducked your head slightly, shy under his steady gaze. But Trent wasn’t about to let you retreat into yourself. He leaned across the table a little more, his hand moved to hold for your chin. His fingers tilted your face toward him, his touch as soft as his voice. 

“Look at me, baby,” he said gently, and when you lifted your eyes to meet his, he gave you a small, reassuring smile. Then, before you could overthink it, he closed the gap between you. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss so light it felt like a question, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned in, your heart racing as the kiss deepened for just a moment before you pulled back with a nervous giggle.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip. “That was… woah, you had me…. That was a lot...” You laughed shaking your head. You weren’t sure what planet you were on. He had pulled you into this world tonight that felt so surreal. He’d never done that to you before, kissed you in public, flirted with you at right while you sat across a table from him, it was all so confusing, and yet, he looked calm as ever. His movements were slow and deliberate. But then Trent chuckled, leaning back in his seat, but his hand stayed on yours, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. 

“Was it now?” he teased, his grin playful. You smirked, trying to compose yourself. 

“How many girls have you done that to?” you asked, your tone light but with a touch of curiosity beneath the joke. Trent raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. 

“What kind of question is that?” He asked you. His smile now sickened handsome and taunting.

“An important one,” you shot back, your grin widening. He held up his hand, palm out like he was swearing an oath. 

“Hand on heart, I have never wiped someone’s face. Not like that.” He told you. You narrowed your eyes at him, skeptical.

“Sure,” you drawled, the sarcasm dripping from your tone.

“I swear,” he said, leaning forward with a laugh. “You can ask anyone. I’ve never done that before.” You shook your head, trying to hide the way his words made your heart flutter. 

“Right,” you muttered, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. The restaurant around you felt like a cocoon. The warm lighting and muted colors created a sense of privacy, even though you knew other people were dining nearby. It was hard to tell if his choice in restaurants that felt hidden was intentional or if it was just your perception, but either way, it was okay. The world outside might as well not exist you were so transfixed on him tonight. You had recently got to spend a lot of time with Trent but really getting his undivided attention at a dinner had your head spinning. And apparently that internal chaos was something he could feel. 

“Stop overthinking,” Trent said suddenly, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You looked up at him, startled. 

“I’m not.” You smiled softly trying to just act normal but you couldn’t. 

“You are.” He smirked, his fingers sliding across the table to intertwine with yours. “I can see it all over your face.” You sighed, letting your thumb trace over his hand in return.

 “Maybe I am,” you admitted. “This just… it feels surreal.”

“Surreal good or surreal bad?” he asked, his tone soft but his expression serious.

“Surreal good,” you said quickly, meeting his eyes. “Definitely good.” He smiled at that, the kind of smile that made your heart skip a beat.

 “Good,” he said simply, squeezing your hand. The rest of the evening unfolded in a blur of easy conversation and quiet laughter. Trent kept finding ways to touch you—his hand brushing against yours, his knee bumping yours under the table, his fingers trailing lightly over your wrist when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Each touch felt deliberate, like he was grounding himself in the moment. By the time dessert arrived, you’d forgotten about everything outside of this little bubble you’d created together. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t worried about what came next. You were just… happy.

Just as the waiter placed dessert on the table, your eyes drifted across the restaurant, scanning the room out of habit. That’s when you saw him—a player from Manchester United, someone you vaguely recognized. It took a moment to place him, but when you did, your stomach dropped. He wasn’t just another footballer. He was someone who was friends with Josh. And worse, he also knew Trent. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as a wave of anxiety crashed over you. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but it didn’t matter. The possibility that he might put two and two together made your throat tighten. Your heart raced as your mind spun through a dozen worst-case scenarios.

“Everything okay?” Trent’s voice cut through the fog. He’d been reaching for his fork, but now his full attention was on you, concern flickering in his eyes. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

 “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual. Trent didn’t buy it. His hand reached across the table, covering yours. 

“What’s wrong, baby. Is this not what you wanted?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he meant the dessert you just ordered or tonight in general, and while you thought you wanted both before now… you weren’t sure.  You hesitated, glancing back toward the other player, who was now laughing with his group, blissfully unaware of your presence. 

“It’s nothing,” you said, your voice quieter.

“Y/N,” Trent said firmly, his hand squeezing yours. “Talk to me.” You looked back at him, his steady gaze grounding you for a moment, but the weight in your chest didn’t lift.

“Someone we know is here..” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Who?” Trent’s brows furrowed, his body tensing slightly as his protective instincts kicked in.

“Some lad on Man United… I think you know him,” you said, your eyes darting nervously toward the man again. “But he knows Josh… and he knows you.” Trent’s jaw tightened, and his grip on your hand shifted, his thumb stroking over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

 “Okay,” he said slowly. “And?”

“And he might recognize me,” you blurted out. “Us. Together.” Trent leaned back slightly, his expression softening as he pieced together your anxiety. 

“You’re worried about people finding out.” He cooed softly empathizing with your fear.  This was a big change to go from stolen kisses in the kitchen to sitting out in public together. You nodded, your stomach twisting. 

“This whole night has been amazing, but… I don’t know if I’m ready for this. For being public. For the questions, the stares, the judgment. I mean, what if Jack—” you began to babble, faster more panicked.

“Stop, pretty girl.” Trent interrupted gently but firmly. “Breathe for a second.” You took a shaky breath, but your chest still felt tight. “Look at me,” he said, his tone steady. When your eyes met his, he leaned forward, his expression open and earnest. “I get it. I do. This is… a lot. And if you’re not ready, we can figure it out. But right now, it’s just us. No one else matters.” He told you in a tone that Trent reserved solely god you. It was commanding but incredibly weak all at once. You swallowed hard, his words calming you slightly, but doubt still lingered. 

“I don’t want to ruin this,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

“You won’t,” he said, his tone firm. “I won’t let you.” The conviction in his voice made you want to believe him, but the weight of everything—your past, your ex, Jack, the scrutiny that would inevitably come—still sat heavy on your chest.

 “I just…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Baby... please. Just be here with me ,” Trent said with a small smile. “I’m here with you. That’s all that matters right now. And if it's really too much, just say the word. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work but for right now.. Just try.” He cooed gently.  You stared at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. 

“You’re being too nice.” You giggled nervously. Trent had always been unreasonably patient and kind with you and that clearly wasn’t about to change. “I don’t deserve you,” you whispered.

“Yes, you do,” he said without hesitation, his voice so sure it made your chest tighten even more. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that you could do this, that you could be brave enough to let this relationship exist outside of the shadows. But as you glanced back at the other boy across the room, your stomach churned with doubt. Trent’s hand on yours pulled your attention back to him.  “Hey,” he said softly. “baby, I'm serious, if you’re not ready, we can leave. No pressure.” Trent meant what he said but he'd be lying if a part of him wasn't aching for you just to try with him. To really commit to him, to this, to trying- it hurt. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head.  The dinner had been perfect so far—Trent’s soft smiles, the way his fingers occasionally grazed yours on the table, and the playful, teasing lilt of his voice when he spoke. But your nerves had made it hard to focus entirely on him. You were too aware of your surroundings, glancing discreetly across the restaurant, noting every unfamiliar face. And then him. Josh’s friend. Maybe his name was Devon, you couldn't remember. And while he hadn’t said a word to you or Trent, his presence alone had unsettled you, pulling your mind into a spiral of what ifs. You felt like you were holding your breath, waiting for something to go wrong. You looked at Trent, his concern breaking through the wall of anxiety building in your chest. Trent was being so gentle, so patient, and it hit you—he deserved all of your attention tonight. It wasn’t fair to let the past shadow this moment.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm here." you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to let go of the tension in your shoulders, and allowed yourself to fall back into the bubble he created. With each passing minute, it became easier to focus solely on him. His laughter was infectious, the way he leaned in closer to you when you spoke made your stomach flutter. You’d forgotten how safe it felt to be wrapped up in someone like this, where the rest of the world melted away. But while you were blissfully unaware, Josh’s friend wasn’t. From his seat across the restaurant, he stared, squinting as recognition settled in. First, he caught sight of Trent—someone he knew well from the pitch, a rival he loved to hate. Then, his gaze shifted to you, seated across from him, clearly on a date. It was all too good. You, the ex of his best mate, now smiling, laughing, leaning into the guy who had made headlines time and again for his assists. He reached for his phone, holding it low as he snapped a photo of you both, capturing the intimacy of the moment. Trent’s hand resting on yours, your head tilted slightly as you laughed at something he’d just said. He smirked, tucking the phone away, already composing the perfect explanation to Josh when they inevitably debriefed. Meanwhile, you and Trent remained nonchalant, completely unaware of the brewing storm outside your little world. It didn’t matter, though—not right now. Your focus was on the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, on how his foot brushed against yours under the table. For that moment, it was just the two of you—soft beginnings and unspoken promises, blissfully unaware of the chaos looming on the horizon.

As the car rolled down Trent’s driveway, the engine cut and he turned to you, his hand still loosely holding yours. “I’m off tomorrow,” he said, his voice soft but hopeful. “You’ll stay with me tonight?” He asked. You tilted your head, pretending to consider it, but the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. 

“Obviously,” you teased with a giggle.

“C’mon,” he said with a smirk, stepping out of the car and coming around to open your door, his hand extended to help you out. As you walked to his front door, he hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his tone quieter. 

“I know this might sound stupid, but… I feel like I don’t sleep as well when you’re not here.” Your heart clenched at his honesty, and you turned to look at him, warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Aw, I’m sorry,” you said, teasing but still genuine. “Guess you’ll just have to invite me over more often.”  You smiled at him.

“Yeah?” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. 

“Yeah,” you said confidently, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ll be here whenever you need me.” Trent unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first. 

“That’s all the time.” As you walked past him, he murmured under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it. You stopped just inside the doorway and turned to look at him, your expression softening. 

“Hmm?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. But you weren’t letting him off that easy.

“No, say it again. You said something,” you cooed, stepping closer to him, your curiosity piqued. He hesitated, running a hand over his hair, before finally meeting your eyes.

 “I said that’s all the time. I need you all the time.” He repeated himself feeling a little embarrassed. For a moment, the air between you felt heavier, charged with something unspoken but deeply felt. You stepped closer, your hand reaching up to brush against his cheek. 

“You’re such a closeted melt, you know that?” you teased, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice softening as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You bring it out of me.” You leaned into him, your forehead resting against his, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just you and Trent, tangled up in each other, finding solace in the quiet honesty of the moment.

The moment you stepped into Trent’s ensuite that night, a wave of peace swept over you, so profound it nearly took your breath away. You paused in the doorway, your hand resting on the frame as your eyes scanned the room. It was large but not overly ornate, it felt like him—clean, understated, yet warm. Your toothbrush stood beside his on the sink, its placement deliberate and thoughtful. A small bottle of your favorite cleanser sat next to his cologne, nestled naturally as if it had always belonged there. A claw clip of yours rested near the edge of the counter, a quiet, unspoken reminder of the nights you’d spent here. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to undo you. You felt a tightness in your chest, not from anxiety or pain, but from an overwhelming sense of being seen. In the past, you’d been in rooms like this before. You’d picked up a bobby pin that didn’t belong to you, brushed past an earring left by someone else, and each time, it stung like a fresh wound, proof that you were just one of many. But here? Here, there were no ghosts of anyone else. Only you. It was all you tucked neatly beside only him. You took a step forward, letting your fingers trail along the edge of the counter. The thought of it—Trent deliberately making room for you, keeping your things here like they were as much a part of his space as his own—made your heart swell. It was such a simple thing, yet it felt monumental.

The sound of his footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned slightly to see him walk in, peeling his T-shirt off over his head in one easy motion. His body, lean and strong, caught the soft light of the room. He tossed the shirt onto the hamper carelessly before his eyes found yours in the mirror. A small, easy smile played on his lips as he crossed the room toward you, his movements unhurried. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you gently into him. His warmth seeped into your back as he pressed his chin against your shoulder, meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice low and steady, full of sincerity. You turned your head to look at him directly, but before you could speak, he tilted his head down, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, and the simple touch sent a shiver through you. “I mean it,” he murmured into the curve of your shoulder, his voice muffled but no less sure. “I can’t sleep without you sometimes, baby.” His confession made your breath hitch. Your chest rose and fell, your heart racing, but not from nerves. This was so different, quieter, yet somehow so much deeper. You turned fully into his embrace, letting your hands rest on his forearms, your fingers tracing the lean muscles there. His lips trailed across your skin, pressing soft, unhurried kisses along your neck and shoulder. He wasn’t rushing; he was savoring, as if every touch of his lips was a silent reassurance, a promise he didn’t yet know how to put into words. You let your eyes flutter shut, leaning back into him as he tightened his hold on you. His hands slid beneath your shirt, his fingers finding their place on your bare stomach. He rubbed slow, languid circles there, his touch both grounding and electrifying. “You look so good like this,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and reverent. A quiet hum escaped your lips as you leaned into him even more, your head resting against his shoulder. It wasn’t just his touch that made you feel this way; it was the way he held you, like you were something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“This,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “This feels… perfect.” You told him.

“It does,” he replied, his voice equally soft but certain. For a while, you stayed there, wrapped in each other, letting the stillness of the moment settle over you. The air between you was charged yet calming, full of unspoken truths and quiet reassurances. As his hands continued their soothing motion on your stomach, you felt it—a profound sense of belonging. This wasn’t just a room, or a night, or even a fleeting moment. This was what you’d been searching for, what you hadn’t known you needed until now.

“You really like when I stay with you?” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly with emotion.

“I really do,” he promised, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. His words weren’t just for the moment; they felt like a vow, one you believed with your whole heart. And as you stood there, his arms around you, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of something that finally felt like home. Your moment of bliss was split when his phone rang. It was late, no one but someone important would call this late so you nodded for him to take it. He placed a couple more kisses onto your shoulder and your neck before dragging his hands off of you.

"Come to bed when you’re ready," he murmured nodding you on to finish getting ready for bed whilst he answered a phone call that ended up being from his agent.  

As you stepped out of the en-suite, Trent was already lying on the bed, propped up against the headboard, his dark eyes fixed on you. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over his chiseled features. He looked god-esque, his tanned skin glistening in the soft light, and his brown eyes sparkling with desire. You could feel a rush of excitement as you noticed the bulge in his sweatpants, a clear indication of his arousal. Smiling shyly, you approach the bed, your heart racing. Setting your phone down on the nightstand, you climbed onto the bed, your eyes never leaving his. Trent's gaze traveled down your body, taking in every curve, his eyes lingering on your tits, now partially exposed in your little silk pajama set.

"You look beautiful," he says, his voice deep and husky. "I love seeing you like this, at home with me… getting into bed with me.” He told you and though you agreed with loving his domestic this all felt you really liked the undertone of lust. You blushed at his words, feeling a surge of pleasure at the way he was able to make you feel desired. 

"Yeah?” you replied, your voice a little breathless. "I like how you look at me when I get into your bed.” You smirked. Trent chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent shivers down your spine. 

"I can't help it, baby. You're so fucking sexy." He reached out and ran his fingers along your jawline, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. "I've been thinking about this all day. About having you here, back in my bed, doing all the things I've been dreaming of." Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You'd been dreaming of this moment too, of being with Trent, of a night like tonight exploring the passion and desire you'd both kept hidden for so long now bringing it out in public. Yet, in the bedroom, in private, was where you most wanted to be. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to touch you, taste you, make you say my name." He cooed gently with a purr. Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. You  always knew Trent was a confident and dominant guy, but hearing him express his desires so openly sends a thrill through your body every time.  You wanted to please him, to submit to his every whim, and the thought excited you beyond measure.

"Yes, please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want that now, baby." Trent's eyes darkened with a fierce intensity, and he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a gentle tease that left you craving more.

 "I'm going to take care of you, baby," he murmurs between kisses. As his lips captured yours, you melted into the kiss, your body molding perfectly to his. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, tasting, and claiming. You can taste the mint from your toothpaste on his tongue, a refreshing contrast to the heat building between you. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent a clear message—he wants you, and he's going to have you. Your hands began to roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his freshly clean shirt he’d just put on. You tugged at the fabric, eager to feel his skin against yours. Trent broke the kiss, his breathing heavy as he helped you lift his shirt over his head, revealing his sculpted torso. The sight of his bare chest took your breath away. His skin was smooth and tanned, with a light dusting of hair that trails down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his joggers.

"Fuck, you're so hot, T," you whispered, running your fingers over his pecs, feeling the rigid definition of his muscles. Trent's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your words. He leaned back, pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. The position giving you a delicious sense of power. You took a moment to admire the sight of his strong body beneath you.

"Y/N," he growled your name, his hands gripping your thighs. "Show me how much you want me." He commanded you. You bit your lip, feeling a surge of boldness as you reached down grasping the waistband of his joggers. With slow, deliberate movements, you slid them down his hips, revealing his thick, erect cock, straining against his boxer briefs. You let out a soft gasp at the sight, your body throbbing with need, your fingers tracing the length of his shaft through the thin fabric. Trent's breath hitched as your fingers teased him, he bucked his hips, seeking more contact.  "Fuck, baby," he groans. "Take what you want. Show me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With a swift motion, you hooked your thumbs under the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down, freeing his hard length. His cock sprung free, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum. You lean down, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, making him shudder. "Suck my cock, pretty girl," he commanded smugly, his hands gently dragging up your arm, to your shoulder, before moving to push some of your hair back. You obliged with a smile and a hum, lowering your head and taking the tip of his cock into your warm mouth. Trent let out a guttural moan as you swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty sweetness of him. You sucked gently, taking him deeper, inch by inch, until you could feel his hands in your hair, encouraging you to take more. "That's it, good girl," he grunted, his hips thrusting gently, fucking your mouth. And you took him well, minute after minute. "You wanna make me cum, baby? Suck me nice and slow, feel how hard you make me." You moaned around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. Trent's hands tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he empties his load down your throat. You swallow, relishing the taste of him, the evidence of his pleasure. He pulled you up, his lips seeking yours, sharing a deep, passionate kiss. "You're incredible," he breathed, his hands stroking your back. "I can't get enough of you." You smiled against his lips, feeling empowered by his words. 

"I want to feel you inside me, T," you whispered, your hands roaming down his body, eager for more of him. He grinned, his eyes alight with anticipation.

“Mmmm, good, cause I plan to be inside you all night, baby." With that, he rolled you onto your back, his body covering yours, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands slide under your top, caressing your skin, making you squirm with delight. "Let me take this off," he murmurs, his fingers deftly pulling up your silk tank top. You lifted your arms, allowing him to remove the garment, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your tits, your nipples already taut and begging for attention. "So fucking gorgeous," he growled, lowering his head to take a tight peak into his mouth. His tongue teased and suckled, drawing a moan from deep within you. You arched into his touch, your hands threading through his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, squeezing, and caressing, making you feel alive and desired in a way you never had. "So good f’me, baby," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as he moves to the other boob, giving it the same attentive treatment. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body humming with desire. Trent's hands travel down your body, playing with the waistband of your shorts before sliding them down your legs, leaving you clad only in your lacy panties. He took a moment to admire your naked form, his eyes burning with appreciation. "You're so fucking beautiful, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with admiration. "I’ve wanted this for so long. Every time feels like dream. Just want to worship every inch of you."  His words sent a thrill through your body, almost as if he cast a spell with them causing your legs to magically spread in silent invitation, eager for more of his touch. Trent knelt between your thighs, his eyes fixed on your core, now covered only by a thin layer of silk. "Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asked tauntingly but his voice hoarse with need.

“Mhhhmm. Please, T.” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he hooked his fingers under the elastic of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. He took his time, his eyes never leaving your exposed heat, drinking in the sight of your glistening folds.

"So wet just for me," he murmurs, his fingers gently parting your lips, exposing your clit. You let out a soft cry as his finger brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Trent leaned down, his breath hot against your swollen flesh, and then he replaced his finger with his mouth, his tongue flicking and lapping at your clit.

"Oh God, T, fuck," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as he feasted on your pussy, his tongue delving deep, tasting your essence. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending you closer to the edge. His fingers joined his tongue, sliding into your wet heat, stretching and filling you as he suckled your clit. Your body coiled tighter with each stroke, each flick of his tongue, until you were teetering on the precipice of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, his voice muffled against your sex. "Let me feel you come on my tongue." His words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rippling through you. Trent didn’t let up though, his tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, drawing out your orgasm until you were left trembling and sated. He moved up your body, his lips finding yours, sharing the taste of your climax. "So good f’me, baby," he breathes, his eyes filled with adoration. "I love making you feel good. Love making you cum." You tiredly smiled, your heart full as you pull him close, feeling the deep connection between you. 

"I love cumming for you, T," you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his face. Both of you were using the orgasm as a front. Hiding behind the physical sensations to mask the very deep emotional connection developing. Neither of you really cared about that specific orgasm, no matter how good it was - you just were so clearly in love with each other and needed to say something but this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. "I've never felt this way before." You sheepishly told him. He kissed you softly, his lips brushing yours in a tender caress.

 "I know, baby. I feel it too. This is just the beginning. Promise" Trent cooed. He was talking about sex tonight but he was also talking about your relationship, your feelings. As his words began to sink in, you realized this night was just the start of something much bigger. The rest of the evening was spent in every position possible. Each orgasm hacking away at your restraint. You were falling weaker and weaker to him literally and figuratively, terrified you’d let those three little words slip. But after round five and orgasm seven you said no more, clinging to Trent, exhausted and spent, your eyes fluttering closed as he held you securely rubbing his hands up and down your body gently. He hummed in agreement kissing your glistening skin. He cleaned you up but you barely remember it as you were focused on nothing else but not letting your tired mind and body mutter how truly in love with him you really were. You successfully fell to sleep with no slip ups but Trent could feel the tension. He almost wished you had said it so he could finally admit it to you but that wasn't the case. And so that night, he held you tighter to him than he ever had before as he dozed off, unable to leave any space for the words you both longed to say. He was struggling to bite back the feelings looking at you asleep in his arms, the words so desperate to come out now. You looked so different now. Different than you did on the porch and you felt different too. You felt like you were his. But it wasn't just you, it all felt different, so different. Things had changed. You two had changed and there was no turning back now.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 11 xx

[batcavescolony]

Agatha: Coven of Chaos is a better name for this series, they went with 'Agatha All Along' to piggy back of the popularity of the song from Wandavision. Agatha All Along makes sense for the song in Wandavision cus it was Agatha All Along. In the new show it makes more sense for it to be 'Agatha: Coven of Chaos' cus it's about her, her coven and the covens before that she killed to make up the story of the witches road.

[albino-parakeet]

Since the trailer dropped for Chaos Theory, I thought I’d share this silly video from my visit of Jurassic World: The Exhibition back when it was in Denver. (The audio is that “I would like to see the baby” clip)

(Sorry for the shaky camera and bad quality I was really excited while I trying to film this and my phone camera is not great lol)

[blastoqueen]

Sunrise.

Chapter 5

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Noa x Mae (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes)

Content warnings: None

Comments: English is not my first language. I recommend you to watch the deleted scene where Noa and Mae talk about dreams and the telescope, it's not too important but it gives a tiny little bit of context for a short paragraph in the story. Enjoy!

Anaya woke up in the morning with more energy than usual and went to the main tower to look for his best friend, hoping they could do some climbing later, maybe he could convince Noa to go beyond the valley and explore a little more the ancient Echoes civilizations. However, when he arrived at Noa´s room, he found nothing but his empty litter and Dar, who was just waking up.

“Dar!” Anaya said, feeling a little invasive “Good morning. Noa?”

The female ape yawned deeply and scratch her belly.

“Dar?”

“Oh, Anaya, I don´t know” she said uninterested, yet calm; getting up to start her day.

“You… not worried?”

“Why would I? Noa… old enough. Not a baby. Probably… out”

Anaya left the tower, feeling a little worried. Ever since the kidnapping, he started to feel uneasy, like he should be alert and ready to fight. When he couldn’t find his friends, he felt this tight in his stomach.

“It´s called anxiety” Noa explain when they were settling their home again. Anaya was brave enough to express his feelings to his leader, hoping he could give him a peace of mind “Raka… told me so”

Soon enough, that word had spread like a quick virus among the apes. Everyone was using it. Noa wondered if they were truly anxious from what happened, or if they were just interested in using a new word.

Walking through the village, Anaya found his best friend sleeping next to the horses, with a blanket over his head, covering him from the sun.

“Noa! What are you… doing?”

The leader woke up and rapidly sat. He looked around him and spotted Anaya looking down on him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

“What?”

“Why are you here?”

“Oh, not reason” Noa answered, feeling shy and oddly embarrassed. His friend gave him a look “Okey, I was out… all night. When I came back… to tired to go up. Sleep here”

Anaya looked confused.

“Where?”

“Uh… to the lighting dancers’ field”

“What?!” Anaya screamed with excitement, Noa hushed him with his hand and took him to a more private place, just a few meters away from the village.

“Who is… the lucky one?” the eldest asked.

“What?”

“You know”

“I do not”

“Noa. Romantic place. Take girlfriend” Anaya was too excited at this point, giggling and jumping around his friend, happy to be the first to know the details of how the date had gone.

“No, Anaya, it wasn´t… like that” Noa sighed mildly annoyed. Kind of disappointed.

It had been just a sweet moment between Mae and him, it wasn´t a mating ritual, nor a proposal. It was just a night out with a girl he cared about and wanted to show her something nice and pretty.

He didn’t want anybody to think he was trying to marry Mae (´cause he was not). That would be weird. An ape and an animal, getting together? Now way. That was just unnatural, wasn´t it? It would be like marrying a horse. “Except it would not be like that, and you know it” Noa thought. “She has the same features as you. Apes and human… we are not that different” Except they kind of were “But she is smart. She is not like those animals”

“It was just a nice walk”

Anaya snorted at his answer, like it was an obvious lie.

“With… who?”

Noa wondered if he could trust his friend, in a normal situation he would, but Anaya had imagined a whole scenario about a mate and a proposal, he didn’t want him to get his ideas twisted.

“Mae”

The ape stood in silence. The leader couldn’t figure out his expression. It was a mix between shock and something else, maybe fear?

“But I told you… it wasn’t like that” Noa tried to explain, his voice sounded nervous, and he knew that it seemed like he was lying “Really. The Echo never saw the dancers before”

The silence was getting unbearable, he needed to get out of there soon. Acting annoyed and angry, Noa pushed lightly Anaya to the side and started to walk towards the village.

“Wait” Anaya said, “Did she… like the lights?”

Noa turn around and looked at his friend, a kind smile was growing in his face. Noa tried to give him the same gesture, but the anxiety was just too strong.

“Yes, she liked the lights”

“Enjoyed the night? Both”

“Yes, it was nice”

Anaya walked towards his best friend, with open arms and a sympathetic smile, ready to hug the other ape.

“Then… that is all… that matters”

---------

It was a chilly night, not cold, but Mae felt the need to get a blanket to covered herself from the wind. She was getting goosebumps and a slightly runny nose.

She was with a group of apes, sitting in a circle and just telling stories and legends, some were made up and some were real things that happened in the village a while ago. The human was sitting next to Soona and Case, listening to a semi old male ape talking about the time he saw a creature bigger than a horse, with big paws and very fat. He said it attacked his wife, but fortunately they made it to the village and loose the animal on the way. The other apes were making fun of his story, saying he was probably making all up.

Mae supposed the beast he was talking about was a bear, but she stayed silent. She didn’t know exactly why she felt so scared revealing more stuff about the world to the apes. Except she did know.

She was terrified of them sometimes. She could see how they were improving their speech, at least Noa. Mae tried to fake an ape way of speaking, but it was very difficult to pretend and not let difficult words come out of her mouth. It was easier to stay silent. And the reason? She felt like she was teaching them human ways. And that felt like a nightmare came true. Mae saw the evolution among the apes. Spreading.

She learned to be around them, to joke and live a simple life surrounded by the apes. But she felt like crossing a line when it came to “teach” them.

They learned fast. Noa was the fastest. She remembered their conversation at the fire camp when they were after Proximus, how the ape asked about what they saw inside the telescope. She lied and said she didn’t know. Because she was too scared to talk about things only humans on earth knew about.

That same night, she observed Noa, fixing the electric weapon. She was terrified.

“Cold?” said a male voice behind her. It was Noa, holding a blanket in his hands.

“Yeah, a little” Mae answered. The ape sat beside her, squishing between her and Case.

The female ape rolled her eyes and move next to Soona so Noa wouldn’t suffocate her.

Instead of giving Mae the blanket, the male wrapped it around her shoulders. The human girl stood still.

“What are they talking about?” the leader asked in a quiet voice, so he doesn’t interrupt the story telling.

“About everything” Mae said “That old ape saw a beast one time. Nobody believes him”

“Oh, the big paws monster?” Noa snorted.

“Have you heard his story?”

“Yes, he tells it all the time” Noa took a peach from his little bag and started to eat it. Mae noticed how he only eats with his mouth close now. Something he must have learn from the human girl.

“Do you not believe him?” Mae inquired with a rise eyebrow.

“Nobody does”

“Maybe we could—” the girl was interrupted by a different ape, pointing direct at her.

“Okey everyone! Maybe it´s… time… for the Echo… to tell a… story”

Some apes were exciting to hear what the human had to say, while others stayed silent, cautious.

“Oh, I… I don´t really have a story”

“Everyone has a story” Noa said with a grin, he was enjoying watching Mae get embarrassed.

“Can it be made up?”

“Of course”

“Well, uh… there is this story” Mae started “It was very popular in my home. Every kid knew about it. It´s about a princess, well, she wasn´t really one—”

“What is a… princess?” an ape asked from the opposite side of the circle.

“Uh… they used to rule kingdoms—”

Everyone started to murmur, scared, fresh memories of Proximus and the kidnapping.

“But they were nice kingdoms, they were gentle and kind, and showed mercy” That was a lie “Anyway, she was not really a princess, she was just a girl who worked really hard to get what she wanted. On the other hand, there was this boy, who was actually a prince. So, this prince gets turned into a frog by an evil man, and only a true love kiss could turn him back into a human. Then, this girl, found the frog and became very fond of him, they kissed, and the prince turned back into a human, they were happy after that”

There was a moment of complete silence, Mae held her beath, not knowing what to do or expect. Then, a whole lot of questions were asked, all at the same time, the girl tried to answer all of them, without revealing too much or making them confused. That wasn’t the whole story, she skipped a lot of details, but she knew the apes wouldn’t understand the concept of magic or human customs.

“How were… the princess?”

“They were beautiful girls with castles”

“The frog… talked? Like you?”

“Yes, he did. That is how they got to know each other”

After a whole bunch of questions, Noa noticed Mae getting overwhelmed, so he called it a night and send everyone to sleep.

He accompanied the Echo to her room, stopping at the door.

“Goodnight Mae. That was a good story” he said with a smile.

“Thank you”

“Sleep, princess”

[uniquexusposts]

hi are you still writing for james beaufort ?

The best friend - James Beaufort

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 1.999

Summary: An insight into James and Y/N's relationship. Or is it more?

James rang the bell of the property and waited for someone to open the door. He looked around; this house always reminded him of Downton Abbey for some reason. Because of him, people called it the Downtown Abbey house. The door swung open a minute later, and Y/N’s dad smiled. “Hello, mate,” he welcomed James. “Come in.” He was wearing a kitchen gown. 

“Hello,” James replied, entering the house. “Thank you. Is she upstairs?” 

Y/N’s dad nodded. “She just came back from work,” he said, and they walked through the hall together. When James wanted to walk up the stairs, Y/N’s dad asked: “Will you be staying over for dinner?” 

“If it isn’t a problem?” James showed a small smile. 

“Of course not! I will peel just a few more potatoes.” 

“Thank you,” James replied and nodded. 

He walked up the stairs, and as he reached the first floor, he heard some music. A steady beat of rap music filled the hall, an unexpected soundtrack for this place. James knew instantly it wasn’t coming from Y/N’s room; rap was the one genre she couldn’t stand. This had to mean her older brother was home. James smiled, remembering the countless times he and Y/N had joked about her brother’s eclectic music tastes. He approached Y/N’s room, knocking gently before pushing the door open. He found her lying on her stomach on her bed, looking exhausted. She barely reacted to his presence, only turning her head slightly so she could see him.

“Hey,” she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips.

“Hey,” James replied softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Long day?”

“The longest,” Y/N sighed, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I don’t think I’ve moved since I got home.” She followed his every movement, taking off his jacket, tie and shoes. He walked over to her bed and sat on the edge. “What a surprise to see you here,” she mentioned.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought, let’s check up on the best friend,” he said and ran his hand through his hair. 

Y/N padded on the mattress beside her, inviting him to lie beside her. “The best friend saw you last week,” she replied. 

“Which is a while back. The best friend and I used to see each other every day.” James lay beside her, placing his arm behind his head when his head hit the pillow. 

“That’s a few months ago,” she shot back. 

“And?” 

They looked at each other for a few seconds. The corners of Y/N’s lips started to curl up, which also made James smile. 

“How are you?” Y/N then asked, her voice softening since it was a deep question for James. 

James looked away from her, focusing his eyes now on the desk, which was full of stuff. It wasn’t like Y/N to have a messy desk. “I’m fine,” he breathed. 

“Sure?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“And school?” 

“The usual.”

“Good.”

“Ja.” 

After a few minutes of silence, James turned his head to Y/N. He scanned her face; she was zoning out. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. They shared a quiet moment. 

Suddenly, an alarm went off. James looked around the room, trying to determine where the alarm came from. It was an alarm from a phone.

Y/N softly groaned and stopped the alarm. “Time to get up,” she said and pushed herself up. “Otherwise, I will be doing nothing for the rest of the evening.” She turned around and sat on her bed, stretching her arms and shoulders. When she heard a snort next to her, she turned to James. “What?” 

“You never fail to surprise me with your strange habits,” he laughed, sitting up. 

She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I’m strange.”

“Luckily.”

They both got up from the bed. 

“Your life would be so boring without me,” she cheekily replied, making a bun in her hair. 

James squinted his eyes. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” He showed a playful smile. “Perhaps…”

She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps what?” 

They held their gaze for a few seconds, their playful tension palpable. Smiling, they moved closer without realising it, their connection deepening with each passing moment.

James finally broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. “Perhaps my life would be incredibly dull without you.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper. “Good to know you’re aware.” She switched the light off and opened the door to the hallway. 

“How was work, by the way?” James asked, closing the door behind him. Together, they walked down the stairs to the living room. 

“Busy,” she sighed. 

It was hard to admit, but James was jealous of Y/N in almost every way possible. One of them was the freedom she got from her parents. She had the freedom to explore her passion and what she wanted to do in the future. Y/N was currently in her gap year, working as a barista in a cafe in the next town. Her parents were very supportive of her decision. However, she had to work for at least four days. It didn’t matter what kind of job, but she had to work. 

“But it was fine. For some reason, we had a very long rush hour. The time flew by,” she continued, sharing some weird situations with some customers. 

When they arrived at the living room, the doors to the terrace were wide open, and in the distance, Y/N's little brother and sister were playing football in the garden. They also walked to the terrace but decided to sit on the lounge set.

James leaned back, the cushions soft against his back. “Sounds like you had quite a day.” He looked at her, admiring her resilience and positive outlook. He wished he had the same kind of freedom and support to pursue his passions without the weight of expectations bearing down on him. He unbuttoned the buttons of his sleeves and rolled them up his arms.

“Ey,” Y/N mumbled and picked up a lost button from the sofa. She held it up between her thumb and wise finger. “Just because you don’t like it, you don’t have to sprinkle it around,” she smirked and grabbed his arm left, unfolding the sleeve, checking if it belonged to this side. 

“I just wanted to mark my territory.” 

“Like you haven’t done that enough here,” she replied. She rolled the left sleeve up again, unfolding the right side. “Bingo.” She gave James the button. “Let me get the sewing kit.”

“It’s alright. I will let someone fix it at my place. Besides, I have enough white shirts.”

“It’s just a two-minute job. Besides, I know it is a new white shirt, and it’s too good to just throw it away because one button is missing, James.” 

Before he could say anything about it, she had walked away. The left corner of his mouth curled up, and he looked at the button. He could hear her talk to her dad in the distance. He still heard some soft beats from the music upstairs, and he heard the sibling dynamic between the kids playing football.

Y/N sat down beside him again. “Arm,” she said and made a gesture. She opened the small box, probably an old cigar box and got a needle and some wire. 

James placed his arm on her lap. “Don’t poke me,” he reminded her. 

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, straightening her face. “Shit, there goes my plan.” 

“I need to stay away from you.”

She licked her lips and casually shrugged. “I know where to find you,” she said. 

“Oo, now I’m scared.”

Y/N pointed the needle at him and laughed. “As you should.” 

“Aah, no, I don’t want to die. Don’t do it to me,” his voice raised, but his face stayed neutral. 

She sighed and sewed the button back on the sleeve. “Hopeless.”

The music became louder. The loud music was blasting from his speaker when the Y/N’s older brother stood in front of the lounge set. He was moving along with the beat, standing in front of Y/N and James purposely. Y/N gave him a side eye, which gave him a satisfied reaction; he smiled. 

“Turn that music down, mate,” Y/N’s dad said and put some plates with cutlery on the table outside. “Put on a chill playlist and set the table, will you?” 

“Si Señor,” the brother said. He looked at his little sister and James. “The best friends are together again,” he said and walked over to James. “Hey, man.” He wanted to go for a handshake, but it was a weird high-five since Y/N was working on James’ right hand. 

James returned the high-five with a chuckle, the easy banter between them adding to the relaxed atmosphere. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted Y/N’s brother.

“Likewise,” the brother replied, shooting James a friendly grin before turning to Y/N. “So, what’s the occasion? You two planning a secret rendezvous or something?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. “Nothing like that. Just fixing James’ button.”

“Ah, the old ‘sewing buttons’ trick,” the brother winked. “Classic move. By the way, Y/N, where is mum?” 

“Work,” Y/N replied. “Well, I think she will be home any second now.” Looking up, she saw her mum walking in the living room. “Speaking of the devil.” She nodded towards her mum. 

“Ah, mother!” The brother said, widening his arms and greeting his mum. 

Y/N bit her lip while focusing. “Oh, this is light pink wire,” she mumbled and looked sorry at him. “Sorry. I can do it over with white wire.”

James widely smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he mentioned. Every time that I wear this shirt, it will remind me of you,” he winked. 

“Sure,” she dodged his words. “Anyway, will you be joining us for dinner?” A smile curved on her lips. 

“Would love to,” he smiled. He didn’t want to say that her dad already invited him, since she looked excited when asking. 

Y/N nodded and continued sewing. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, the music now a soothing background melody as they finished sewing the button back onto James’ sleeve. Once they were done, Y/N leaned back, admiring their handiwork.

“James, sweetheart,” Y/N’s mum cheerfully said. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good evening,” James politely smiled. 

“Looks good as new,” Y/N declared, a satisfied smile on her face as she rolled up his sleeve again.

“Thanks, Y/N,” James replied, giving her a playful nudge.

The entire family gathered around the dining table outside and made sure the table was all set. They all sat down to enjoy the dinner Y/N’s dad had prepared. James felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. Surrounded by the warmth of Y/N’s family. The conversations they held during dinner were filled with laughter and funny expressions. 

Then Y/N’s mum wanted to invite James for tomorrow. “We are going to sail tomorrow. Would you like to join? Maybe you can ask Lydia, too,” she proposed. 

A sparkle came in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at James, hoping he would say yes. “We can pick Lydia up tonight, so you both can stay here for the night. Then we don’t have to rush tomorrow morning,” Y/N proposed while looking at her parents, who seemed to agree. 

“Yes, I would love to. I will be there, but I will ask Lydia,” James widely smiled.

Click here to read part 2

[missmarveledsblog]

Spellbinding ( sam winchester x reader )

summary : sam being completely in love with reader who happens to be his best friend while on a hunt she is hit with a curse making her needy clingy mess while sam was loving the closeness it was only temporary right?

Warnings : spells and shit , sam being simp (love that for him )

In all his life he never thought he would feel like this , at first he pegged it to being a school boy crush but it only grew . she would be the one to stay up late into the morning researching while his brother just went to the bar or bed calling them " nerds"  . she'd be the one to make sure they got sleep after realising how long they had spent nose deep in their laptops or books . she'd be the one to make sure everyone was taken care of even making sure dean didn't have a diet that consisted of fast food making them home cooked meals in the bunker . she would tease and be playful so it wasn't all work . so it was hard not to fall for her in fact what scared him was how easy it happened. the fact that dean caught on was hell in itself finding new ways to torture his brother with the new found information always pairing the two off together , the little remarks she never noticed and when she did she would brush them off as dean well being dean . hunts we're both a blessing and a curse for him when she was there . he could make sure she was safe but yet her just being there meant she was also in danger , an internal battle on which part to stick with . Like now they were walking through an abandoned asylum after report of many men going mad once they've been in the   place one way or another . now they were walking through the halls , searching for whatever it was or even a clue to what it was . she hated the abandoned hospitals and asylums they had an extra creepy feeling to them . sam knew this main reason he made sure to stay closer then usual which if he was lying he kinda took advantage of it . " ah shit " she huffed . " what , what is it " . " look the symbol we've dealt with this before " she pointed walking into the large open space that used to be a rec room . the symbols spread around the room like she said it was too familiar .

" witches " he mused. " always witches get dean here , he's a lightening rod for curses " she sighed dramatically making him laugh. " what are you doing here , your not welcome " the voice called . " listen lady , neither are you " she turned to see the raven haired woman glaring . " this is my new home and intend to keep it that way " she turned to sam as he raised his gun . he was waiting for it , to be thrown across the room it was all too regular habit but yet all he felt was her pushing him and taking the hit flying across and hitting the wall . " hey darling now that wasn't so nice of you " dean held the woman tight while cas done his thing . " hey sweetheart you ok " he called. " yeah i think so ouch how do you do that sammy " she groaned wiping the dust off of herself . " what the hell were you thinking " he yelled running to check her over. " i was thinking you'd be grateful " she smiled sweetly. " idiot you could of been killed " he chastised missing the way she was looking at him . " hey kid you ok " dean smirked seeing the sudden shift in her demeanour. " so pretty " she cooed all doe eyes and mushy as she stared at her best friend before latching on to his arm . " lets get her out of here " dean snorted seeing his brothers cheeks all flushed while Y/N was clinging to him like he was the light in the dark . " hey how you feeling slugger" dean turned see sam carrying her out on his back like a koala on a tree. " she wanted to be closer because it hurt being so far apart " he groaned. " hey you should be happy hot chick all over you " held the door open so sam could put her in the back . " cas in front "dean's shit eating grin was not helping the situation and neither was the grabby hands she was making .

They found out she was hit with a curse same one those men were hit with except in her case well she was overly clingy only when sam moved away it actually hurt her like a blinding cutting pain ran through her body when they were apart for more than 60 minutes , during the first week they found that out . " a couple of weeks and she will be back to normal she said something else but cas was playing around so we had to leave quick " dean explained while Y/N was now in sams lap almost purring like a kitten nothing like the woman before . " couple of weeks , how the hell am i going to do this for a couple of weeks " sam hissed rubbing her back when she tensed at his words. " enjoy it since your such a bitch and not telling her how you feel when she's,  well not a pussy cat " he chuckled. " do you not like the affection " cas asked confused. " i would if it was of her own accord " sam muttered feeling her head resting on his shoulder after she'd fallen asleep . " i need a shower , a quick one " he said placing her down on the sofa and putting his shit around her. " don't be long i can see her screaming again , it's painful to watch " cas walked out . " i wont , i don't like it either " sam huffed running out the room . he loved it and hated it , he loved the close contact and he affection , but he missed his partner in crime , he miss how she would talk about everything and anything with him , he missed her being his best friend . yet he love having her nuzzled so close he could smell her shampoo , he loved the feeling of her soft skin under his palms. how he could see every detail of her face , how her smiled would widen in his presence . the water cascaded down his body yet the hot water done nothing to soften the stress of the situation he loved and hated all in one . What made it worse she was going through it all because she wanted to save him , wasn't it his job to keep her safe.

"where's sammy " she whined starting to sweat as she felt the tingle beginning. " he'll be back in a minute " dean huffed. he couldn't wait for it to end , the badass smart chick he loved like a sister reduce to a needy airhead , now whining like a kid for candy. " hey how come you never told sam why she so bad " cas asked again his curious nature getting the best. " because even i know the two of them need to say it without the power of a curse and hell he'd probably short circuited. " this hurts " she sniffled but her head shot up feeling his presence near it was like her skin was burning and only he could put it out. " hey i'm back " he smiled weakly feeling her arms wrap around him tightly. " i missed you , it hurt and dean was mean" she pouted . " jesus this hard to even watch " dean rolled his eyes . " well if sam loves her i'm sure it ok " . " sammy only loves me like a friend " she pouted at cas words . " that's what you think but he's in love with you ... ouch " he winced rubbing back of his head . her head shot up and a clearing of a fog sensation. " hey when did we get back here " her voice back to levelness before . " hey sweetness aint you a sight " dean smirked only for her to roll her eyes. " she's back " he cheered. " that could of been the cure , although it's very fairy tale like" cas smiled. " what the baby in the trenchcoat is saying was that you were cursed and been on sammy there like a pimple" dean explained making her realise where her hands were . " oh shit sorry " she back off cheeks flushing at the close proximity . " it's ok really " he smiled sheepishly. " so how did we break it " she asked . " i told you how sam really felt and OWWW " Castiel cried . " hey why you hit him " she ran to the angel checking him over. " oh fuck it, knowing sam loved you like truly loved you broke it , the reason she was so affected is because she loves you too " dean yelled. " do i hit him now " cas whispered . " you love me " they both said at same time . " lets give them some room " dean led castiel out of the room while the two stood stunned at the information. " wait did he just confess for us " she asked dumbfounded. " i think he did " sam stood closer wrapping his arms around her waist. " didn't you get enough " she teased turning to face him fully arms going on his shoulder. " but this time its because i know you love me " he smiled leaning his forehead on hers . " shame it wasn't a kiss breaking curse " . " i think we can change that " she couldn't respond because soon as the words left his mouth he crashed his lips on her. kissing her like she was the only source of oxygen . every part of her being felt alive and awake like never before . they melted together like two missing pieces finally connecting. lost souls lost in the dark finding the light. " i love you so much " he chuckled happy to finally being able to say the words .

"hey thought the curse was broken " bobby asked looking as she sat perched in sam's lap while he was looking through research . " it did " she smiled holding up her book she was using . " they love each other and do sick  sweet shit like this now " dean rolled his eyes . " oh stop being a baby i've seen you cuddle your car " she snorted. " i have too " castiel nodded. " well glad to have you back kid" bobby smiled getting himself a cup of coffee. sam on other hand sat smiling happily now he had the woman he loved back , the one who talked to him constantly , his best friend and now his girlfriend .

[nanaminsmoon]

hiii again 🫶🏾 boom girls night vs guys night (reader is dating connie/ony) and the girls are playing truth or dare— reader and one other friend get dared to make a vid of them shaking ass or something w the caption “anyone can take me from my nigga rn” chaos ensues, the guys are like hell no n go snatch up the girls

- 🪩

heyyyy so i remixed this a little but i hope it’s okay. and i was thinking about doing a little pt.2…🤭

cw: orgasm denial, ony records it but there's prior consent obvi, n word usage, ony calls reader; 'mama', 'baby', 'slut', reader calls ony 'daddy'

wc: 3638

the friday night you had originally planned to be a girls’ night, was currently being spent bouncing on ony’s dick on the couch of your shared apartment. muscular thighs rested beneath you—covered in a mix of their owner’s first release of the night, and the wetness produced by your denied ones. albeit a tease, and rough at the best of times, ony had never been cruel to you. until right now—watching his nut leak out of you, even lifting you up to collect some of it on two fingers before shoving them in your mouth, and having you taste the fruits of your labour. flavours usually decadent enough to send you into delirium, made your nose scrunch in frustration. because, for ony, revenge was never sweet and you’d learn that tonight.

what started off as an innocent night with your girls took a nasty turn once mikasa suggested a game of truth or dare. even though she had called mikasa juvenile for her suggestion, ymir was the first to collect the drinks for the forfeits. and the loudest when it came to asking people out of pocket questions if they picked ‘truth’. as well as even dumber dares; like when she asked your friend, ella, to ‘accidentally’ send her ex an ass pic…(she obviously didn’t do it). but, knowing what ony was like and how he was with you, you thought she’d go easy on you. key word: ‘thought’.

”okay, y/n, you’re next”, mikasa nodded in your direction.

”um…truth”, in the interests of not upsetting your man, you decided to just choose something calm.

”boring…”, ymir shook her head at you, before speaking, ”but~ i’ve got a question for you. if you could have a threesome with ony and one of his friends, who you picking?”,

”the fuck kinda question is that?!”, you had your fingertips already firmly set on your shot glass, before you paused at all the girls encouraging you to answer. that momentary lapse was enough of a gap for mikasa to swoop her hand in, and grab your glass from you.

”a good one. now, answer it”, she pressed.

”i can’t answer that”, you narrowed your eyes at your friends, as they accused you of lying. a voice you couldn’t decipher due to your genuine shock, even voicing how you had to have an answer because of how fine ony’s friends were.

”you can. just tell us.”, sasha said.

”we won’t tell ony. if that’s what you’re worried about”, ymir held her pinkie up. but your brain power was so geared at the question at hand, that it couldn’t transcend far enough to will your hand to move.

”i’ve never thought about it, so i don’t know”, a part of your mind still didn’t believe that you were about to answer this question. there weren’t many ways to go about it; you either picked his closest friend, or the one you thought was most attractive.

”well think about it now.”, mikasa pushed. they weren’t going to give up until they got an answer, so you just conceded.

”fine! if i had to pick, then…”, you paused, ”it’d probably be eren”, the room went silent before different variations of ”eren?!” filled ymir’s living space.

”okay next!”, your deflections immediately began, and you hoped that the game would just end before shit got any worse. but hopes can only go so far.

when he overheard you talking to your friends about a girls night at ymir’s, ony automatically called his friends and suggested they had a boys night. the main reason being that he hated being at home when you weren’t there, so there was no way he was staying at that apartment while you were gone for the night. sat beside you, ‘helping you pack’ (aka feeling you up whenever you bent over to pick some stuff up), ony had asked you what you guys would spend the night doing. and your answer had been ‘girl stuff’,

”the fuck is girl stuff?”, his fingers wrapped around those words in confusion.

”shit that girls do”, you had laughed back. obviously he had no idea what that meant either but, now that he had seen your ass cheeks plastered on his best friend’s phone screen, he had been enlightened. connie had just been sat scrolling on his phone before a low ’shit’ left his mouth. no one thought anything of it until he leaned over to ony, who was just peacefully vibing with a blunt between his lips, and asked him,

”you seen this?”,

ony’s hand rose, wafting away the smoke he had blown out his mouth to see clearer. and, as soon as he saw, he knew exactly who it was. no matter the picture, angle, and video resolution, ony knew those cheeks like the back of his hand. this man could recognise them in a detective’s line-up of fat asses. even with the poor attempt to hide it with the phrase: ‘anyone can take me from my nigga rn’.

”hm.”, was all he said, before he picked his phone up, and pulled up your contact. his features remained frozen; unimaginable anger coated in feigned nonchalance, as he messaged you and said his goodbyes to his friends.

”pack your shit up and be at ymirs door in 5 minutes”.

that notification rested on your phone screen for a second before you shot up, rushing around to pack your bags. the woman behind the idea, ymir, sat in bewilderment as you asked her what the fuck she thought would happen when she posted a video of you and your friend shaking ass, in barely there shorts. although it was your idea to fold over the waistband of said shorts so they sat up higher on your ass, you didn’t think the bitch would post it???

through the help of the furious blood rapidly running through ony’s veins, and the empty night-time roads, he arrived at ymir’s quicker than you had anticipated. the force with which he closed his car door was enough to turn every window in that vehicle to dust—the sound being so loud that it forcefully pushed itself through the gaps in the opened windows, and bounced off every solid surface in ymir’s living room. the girls looked up at you, but even you couldn’t calm ony when he was like this. especially when it was you that had made him that way. three heavy knocks resounded from ymir’s door before sasha got up to open it. and, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, ony wasn’t alone.

”hey, eren”, sasha greeted, looking back towards you before she was slightly nudged by ony walking past her into the house. your eyes met for a few seconds, before you made your way over to him, bags in hand. the proprietorial hands that usually can’t be torn from you whenever you’re in ony’s vicinity, remained in the pockets of his joggers. they wouldn’t move, even as he dodged the kiss you intended to place on his lips; ony was pissed.

you couldn’t remember how much alcohol sasha had consumed, but it was obviously enough to wash away all her tact, because this girl could not read the fucking room.

”y/n said she wants to fuck you”, you heard her titter from beside the front door. ony never let anyone see him sweat, so you couldn’t see how he was feeling, and you weren’t sure you would want do.

”i never said that.”, you placed a gentle hand on ony’s forearm, taking notice of how it tensed under your touch, ”they asked me to pick one of your friends to have a threesome with and i just picked him because i didn’t know who else to say. you know it doesn’t mean anything”, your words were only loud enough for ony’s ears to hear, but that didn’t stop anyone else from inserting themselves into your conversation.

”i’m down”, eren laughed, placing his arm around ony’s shoulders to slap one of them. the air in that room was suffocating, and travelled in and out of your lungs at an excruciating pace; every eye observing the two that wouldn’t remove themselves from you.

”ony, i didn’t mean it like tha—”, your explanations were cut short by ony reaching down to take your bag from your hand. nothing was said, he just made his way to the door.

”you comin’ or what?”, he spoke, one foot already out of the door. hugs were exchanged between you and your girls, as they giggled somehow already aware of what was about to go down. on your way out, you smacked sasha upside her head, and rolled your eyes at her subsequent complaint. because how was she crying, when she was the one who had picked you up and dropped you right in it??

librarians would watch the scene playing out in ony’s car with green eyes, and notepads in their hands—you could practically hear the blood rushing through your boyfriends body because of how quiet it was in there. every glance you stole at him twisted the hand toying with your internal organs more, and more. but ony’s pupils hadn’t left the road once since he had gotten in the car. usually he would have a hand on your thigh as he drove, squeezing ever so slightly or stroking his thumb against it. but, today, your thigh had been replaced by his stick shift; the thumb he would caress you with, tapping at it furiously. it was obvious he had no intentions of talking, so you took the chance to explain yourself now before he took you home and fucked you dumb.

”you okay, baby?”, sweet words were met with a salty reception; nothing.

”don’t listen to sasha, you know she was just being annoying, and she was just trying to get under your skin.”, you reasoned, your hand rubbing his thigh gently.

”d’you mean it?”, he finally spoke, and the split second his eyes met yours scrambled your thoughts. making it hard to even understand the question presented to you.

”mean what?”, your head tilted in confusion.

”you wanna fuck eren?”, ony’s eyes lingered on yours for a millisecond too long before they returned to the road.

”of course not. i only want you, but th—”, ony didn’t even want to hear you out, because he knew all words after that one ’but’ would be blurred out nonsense to his ears.

”but”, he scoffed, ”you only want me but you still wanna fuck eren?”,

”no, ony—”,

”you posting your ass for him too?”, he cracked his neck at the memory of the look on his friend’s face at the clip of your ass jiggling all up in the camera. flash on and all. the mere thought was enough for his dick to react in his joggers, twitching slightly at the replaying image of your ass shaking.

”baby, no it was just a game”, that defense sounded ridiculous, even to your own ears. but it was the only one you had.

”so you disrespected me for a game?”, the stick shift was abandoned, ony’s hand moving on its own to reach over to you, and slip a finger under the waistband of your shorts. after scoffing at it being rolled up so the shorts would be shorter, ony would move his finger alongside it before putting his hand down your shorts. the cold of his finger hitting your warm stomach made your body shiver. and, in a lousy attempt to stabilise yourself, your hand landed on his wrist as the cogs in your brain slowly began working again. remembering that he had asked you a question,

”…no.”, your whispers barely reached his ears.

”what would you call it then?”, his fingers then rubbed circles on your clothed clit, and your hips automatically sought his touch. despite his clenched jaw, ony tried to maintain an unbothered front—even when his question went unanswered because your mouth could barely produce anything that wasn’t a quiet moan.

that would continue until you guys got home. and, once you did, getting out of the car was needlessly uncomfortable because of the thin fabric between your legs—soaked, and sticking to you. not caused by an orgasm, but by the pettiness of the man that sat beside you; adroitly toying with what he knew you wanted most, but never fully giving it to you. because ony’s hands hadn’t found your body seeking your pleasure. instead, they were vengeful and sought nothing more than to lead you towards the edge, only to leave you there so he could push you off whenever you felt ready. you didn’t know it yet, but that 20 minute drive back to your shared apartment had been the last bit of grace ony offered you. disrespecting him over a stupid game was incomprehensible, but if you wanted to play so bad then ony would join you. but, this game would have only one winner. and it wasn’t going to be you.

as soon as he opened the door, ony’s keys had landed wherever his hand had flung them—staying there until he cared to move them. for now, he turned on the light and walked you over to the couch. his hands hadn’t been connected to yours, but you knew to follow him, and that led you to the space in between his legs. stood, waiting for his next command like a soldier awaiting disciplinary action. on any other day, you would’ve only been stood for a few seconds before you were on your knees, using your mouth to pull words of forgiveness from your man’s parted lips. but today, ony just gave you one look up and down, thoughts of ’what the fuck am i gonna do with her?’ rampant in his mind.

”off.”, was all he said, referring to your shorts and you quickly scrambled to get them off. he waited for you to stand up straight again before leaning forward, feigned contemplation evident in the meeting of his elbow and knee. as well as the finger on his chin.

”now, what did this?”, he pointed his index finger, eyes flying up to your face as he observed the effects of his breath fanning against the wet patch in front of him, ”was it me? or was it the thought of eren fucking you?”, he started sliding your underwear down, and guided you out of it once it reached your ankles.

”you.”, you breathed out lightly, and he nodded in approval, before standing up to pull his joggers and boxers to his ankles. his dick practically jumped out of his calvin’s, slapping his clothed abdomen. he noticed your gulp at the sight of it, but he just sat back down.

”sit on it. and don’t cum until i tell you to”, he ordered. and, when all you gave him was a meek nod, his hand rose to grab your chin, the metal bands decorating his digits digging into your skin. squinted eyes traced your every feature before he spat out,

”the fuck does that mean?”, through gritted teeth.

”yes, daddy”, you spoke up, and he let go of you.

”good girl. because we both know what happens when you don’t use your words”, you nodded as your brain referred back to the time he had fucked your mouth in an attempt to show you how useful it is—a lesson designed to teach you to use it more often.

and now, you had been riding him for who knows how long. you really weren’t sure, but the aching in your thighs told you that it had been far too long. but time was no concern for the man underneath you—big hands sat on your ass cheeks, rubbing and slapping them each time that video popped into his mind. they would pause there for a few seconds, fingers digging into you as ony felt his abs, and thighs twitch. signalling his second orgasm,

”can’t believe you pulled that dumb shit”, he moaned out, his head falling back onto the sofa.

”y-ymir, dared me t-to”, your legs weren’t working with you the way they were when you first started riding ony, and it was probably because he had denied you of your own release far too many times. but, your boyfriend didn’t care what your reasoning was, all that he cared about was that nut you were denying him with your slow movements.

”she needa dare you to move faster or what?”, was all the encouragement you needed to pick up your pace, french tips digging deeper into his shoulders as he fucked up into you. whether it was on purpose or not, ony was hitting that spongy spot inside you, building you up for the nth time. but you knew that would only build to topple over, because a familiar warmth spread inside you. but you didn’t stop, because you didn’t want to do something that could deprive you of your relief. again.

”daddy, can i p-please cum n-now?”, you stammered, and ony looked up at you, holding your hips to still them. then his lips pressed against yours for the first time since he dropped you off at ymir’s house. the kiss was sweet until his tongue entering your mouth told you that he wanted more.

”don’t ever pull some like that ever again, okay?”, he whispered against your lips. and when he pulled back, you could see that his eyes had softened considerably. his lips would soon latch onto your neck, and jaw, before he lifted you off him.

the anger from earlier had seemingly subsided, your past actions diminished as ony fucked into you from behind, hand wrapped around your torso to toy with your sore clit. your face was pushed into the couch cushions, and you had gone from him denying you, to overstimulation. the white ring at the base of his dick, making him nut in you one more time before he picked his phone up.

”look back at it, baby”, he asked you, but the strength in your body was non-existent. although you could barely lift it, you shook your head against the material underneath you, and ony tsked,

”you can do it for the gram but not for me?”, his hand made harsh contact with your ass cheek, the flash on his phone illuminating the moisture connecting you two. the device captured everything, down to the smacking noises the flesh surrounding your hips made each time it made contact with ony’s hip bone. his frustration at that video came from the fact that a picture reserved for his eyes only had been hung in a public gallery, and now everyone knew what he was seeing right now.

”d-daddy, i’m s-sorry”, you cried out, lifting yourself up to look back at him. immediately, your eyes were met with the flash from his phone; blinding you to the hand that would soon land on your flesh again. and a small part of ony did feel bad for you. but the parts of him that didn’t, were significantly louder than the former. although seeing your face contort due to the pleasure caused by his ministrations was ony’s favourite part of sex, the circumstances meant that such romantic sentiments held no merit,

”you know i don’t like fucking you like a slut, mama. but when you act like one, fuck else am i supposed to do?”, it infuriated him how seeing your cheeks clap right in front of his eyes, just triggered thoughts of that fucking video—your friends’ laughs and words of encouragement ringing in his ears. and, he would attempt to hush them by fucking into you harder; hoping that the raucous caused by your skin meeting, and the pleasure it brought you, would drown them out. that was aided by the wetness jumping from in between your legs, to coat his thighs and stomach. once you came for the nth time, ony’s focused diverted,

”think you can take her from her nigga? come get her then”, enveloped in a smug chuckle, were ony’s words directed to the brunette who thought he could even joke about ever fucking you.

”you think eren can fuck you like this?”, he asked you, and you just shook your head, ”answer me, baby”, ony’s hand wrapped around your throat to pull you up slightly.

”no, d-daddy”, you stammered out before ony dropped you back onto the couch.

”damn fucking right he can’t”, ony’s hand played with your ass cheek for a few seconds, wobbling it in his hand like it was damn pizza dough, before he spread you open so he could give eren a clearer view of exactly what he was missing. and that was only the beginning because, at some point during the night, ony would move you to your bedroom, where he’d send eren random videos every few positions just to show him how you didn’t need a third. because he gave you everything two men could give you and more. didn’t matter how many niggas saw your ass cheeks on the gram, they would never know the feeling of nutting on them time and time again.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[seethesin]

vampires everywhere!

pairing: Vampire!Hazel Callahan x F!Monster Hunter!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, supernatural/vampire au, blood kink, heavy petting, biting, cunnilingus, teasing (18+, mdni)

a/n: based on the request by anonymous found here. i know i said i'd wait until we got closer to halloween, but this idea had a chokehold on me. gif pack/gif credit.

click here for part two!

"You came."

There's genuine relief in your target's disembodied voice as you enter the mausoleum. You look around frantically, squinting to try and adjust to the darkness. It's impossible though and suddenly, your hostess drops from the ceiling. She lands neatly on her feet, looming over you as she rocks gleefully on her heels. Startled, you back into the door.

She stands at average height with unkempt brown hair. Her skin is translucent; even in the dark, the blue plume of her veins crawls up her neck. A broad, boyish smile plays on her lips, revealing a pristine pair of fangs.

"I'm Hazel."

On instinct, you draw your silver stake. The tip presses precisely into her chest and she smirks.

"Feels like someone's happy to see me tonight."

You dig the stake deeper, watching as it tears a hole through her shirt and pierces her skin. Moments later, the scent of rotting, burning flesh fills your lungs and you cough. Droplets of blood drip from the wound and carefully, Hazel uses her middle finger to clean up the excess. She slips the digit in her mouth, sucking it clean as her skin sizzles against the silver. Her cheeks hollow sinfully and you gulp, your mouth watering.

You were disgusted with yourself. You were supposed to kill her, not fuck her.

"I'm thrilled," you respond blankly, gripping the hilt of your weapon steady. "Thrilled to dispose of another leech."

Hazel sneers, leaning back so that the tip of your stake unsheathes itself from her flesh. Moments later, the wound begins to heal itself.

"We both know that's not the reason," she singsongs, glacier-blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Okay, maybe it's not the entire reason.

Through the monster hunter grapevine, you heard of a nightclub that hosted some high-profile fiends—The Last Drop. Many of the frequent flyers had bounties on their heads and you were eager to cash in.

As you spent your nights staking the place out, there was one person that you always noticed. It was the girl currently hovering over you, wearing her smile like a gold star on her chest. Like clockwork, Hazel left every time by four in the morning. Where she went after that you didn't know. But you would be lying if you said she didn't distract you from your main mission.

Hence why you were currently in this predicament. Curiosity got the best of you tonight and you followed Hazel back to whatever this was. Her lair? Her home? Her timeshare?

A snarky comment is readied on your tongue, but it dissolves as soon as you feel her mouth on yours. Your eyes go wide as saucers and your grip on your weapon falters. The stake hits the floor with a clatter that echoes throughout the high ceiling. Hazel's tongue slips between your parted lips and you taste the iron of her blood. Her fangs graze against your lower lip, drawing blood that she laps up eagerly.

Regaining control, you rip your face away from hers. Your breathing is shallow as you stare at her, bewildered. Hazel cackles in delight, drinking the sight of your swollen and bloody lips.

"I can read your thoughts, sweetheart. Don't they teach you that in Van Helsing school?"

Blush crawls up your neck and you lean into the door, defeated. This was beyond humiliating. To be completely bested by your enemy like this was difficult to recover from. You refuse to look at her willingly, but she closes the distance between you again. Her fingers pinch your chin, tugging it up so that you're forced to look at her.

Suddenly, you're dragged up the door, caged in between Hazel's arms. Her palms are planted at each side of your head and her thigh slips in between your legs.

"Guess not," she mutters, clearly amused.

The pressure of her thigh against your cunt makes you gasp. The rough denim of her jeans brushes against pussy, making you cant your hips. You refuse to admit it out loud, but you want more.

Thankfully, Hazel doesn't need to hear you say it.

Her hands grip your hips, holding you steady as she drags you down the length of her thigh.

"Oh god," you whisper, eyes screwed shut as you dig half moons into your palms. The sensation felt too good.

"Like that?"

You go mute. Hazel huffs, pushing you back up the length of her thigh.

"Gotta use your words," she urges and your eyes shoot open into a glare. Hazel's stupid grin does not falter as she leers predatorily at you. "If you don't, you're not cumming."

You whine.

It comes out before you can filter your thoughts. Your hands fly to your mouth, glancing up at Hazel as her intimidating stare melts into something mirthful.

She begins to laugh, adding to your embarrassment.

"There she is."

Her knee remains pressed into the wall, watching you expectantly. Defeated, you roll your hips, stealing friction between the fabric of your clothing. Eagerly, Hazel leans in. Her mouth is on your skin, kissing across your jawline and down the slope of your neck. You feel her teeth graze your flesh before quickly, her fangs pierce into your skin.

You moan, reflexively jerking away before leaning back into Hazel's unnaturally cool touch. Her tongue pokes out from her mouth, lapping the blood that drools from your fresh wound. Her hands slide into yours, pinning them against the door. She removes her thigh from between your legs and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"If your blood tastes this good," she begins, removing one hand from your wrist, only for the other hand to gather them both between her fingers. She presses your wrists back into the wall as her free hand sinks down your abdomen. Her hand slides to your pants, fingers sliding up the length of your clothed cunt. Your blood roars in your ears.

"I can't imagine what your pussy tastes like."

"Then do it."

Your statement is so immediate it makes Hazel flinch. She blinks in shock, looking up at you with the same surprise you experienced minutes ago.

"Yeah?" she asks and you nod curtly.

"Don't make me change my mind, leech."

Hazel beams.

Quickly, she brings you back onto the floor. Your fingers are at your pants, unzipping and unbuttoning the fly before shoving them down your thighs. You shimmy out of them, discarding them onto the floor. Your underwear follows soon after.

Hazel stares unabashedly, pupils dilated wide as her hands are on your waist. She hoists you back up against the door, positioning you so that she's between your legs, knees hanging over her shoulders as she stands eye level with your weeping pussy.

You feel Hazel's lips on your skin, her warm breath sharply contrasting the cold grip her fingers have on your body. A string of moans pushes from your throat as you feel her kiss across your inner thighs. Her fangs pierce the soft skin, drawing blood as her tongue cleans up the mess they leave. Your fingers thread into her dark hair, tugging firmly to guide her closer to where you need her most.

She chuckles and the vibrations go straight to your throbbing clit.

"So impatient," she tuts, but concedes and follows your somatic demand.

Her tongue darts out from her lips, kitten licking the length of your slit to your clit. You sigh out, rutting your hips toward Hazel's face as she envelops her lips around your clit. She sucks sharply and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull. You're not going to last long and Hazel doesn't need to read your mind to know that too.

It's when she fucks you with her tongue that you that you finally cum. The dam in your gut shatters and a wave of pleasure washes over you. Your nails claw at Hazel's scalp, shoving her in place as you grind your cunt into her eager tongue. Her hold does not falter, keeping you steady until your labored breathing evens out. After a few moments, her head darts out from between your legs. Even in the darkness, the shine of spittle and slick glows on her chin.

"How was that?" It was your turn to be cocky and you relished every moment of it.

Hazel lowers you back onto the floor, allowing you to locate your discarded clothing. She wipes her chin, the flat of her tongue licking off the remnants on her palm.

"You tell me." She tosses the question back to you as you pull your underwear over your hips.

"Well," you start, stepping in and pulling up your pants. You meet Hazel's inquisitive gaze as you fasten the button and pull the zipper up. A shit-eating grin cracks across your face.

"You're still alive, right?"

[dindjarindiaries]

Reckoning

summary: When you and Hunter are left at Hemlock’s mercy, you fight your hardest to avoid becoming the scientist’s cruel bargaining chip.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: angst, torture, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

rating: T

word count: 3.620k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

When you came to, your body ached with pain, drawing a breathless gasp from you that only made the pain worse. You ground your teeth and tried to hold a hand against the sharp pang in your side, but your wrists were cuffed together. At least one rib was broken, no doubt, and if you were lucky, it was just the one.

The only thing stronger than the pain was the rush of memories that hit you all at once.

You, Hunter, and Wrecker had been running at Crosshair’s demand, only to have your path cut off by a shuttle raining down blasterfire upon you. That had put Hunter out of commission—you still felt sick at the mere image of him lying there limp—and Wrecker had urged you to stay behind him while he grabbed Hunter.

But it wasn’t long before they stopped the three of you, and all you could remember was something hard hitting your side before things went dark.

Biting back your whimpers of pain, you forced yourself to sit up and look around. The cell you were in was small and fit with nothing to make it sustainable for a long-term stay. You were being kept here for a reason.

And worse, you were alone.

A thousand questions ran through your mind all at once, all too dizzying to sort through. The most prominent ones slammed against your temples repeatedly and worsened the ache that was already present. Has Omega been freed? Is Echo okay? What happened to the squad?

Did Hunter ever wake up?

You had no time to process these thoughts. You were still gathering your bearings when a series of shadows stood in front of your cell door. It was someone who was flanked by a clone commando and a group of troopers, someone whose face alone made your lips twist into a disgusted snarl.

“You’re finally awake.” Hemlock was just as smug as both you and your nightmares had remembered him. You lifted your chin as he opened the cell door and took the liberty of stepping even closer to you. “Now, you can at last do your part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Whatever he was planning on doing with you was hardly your biggest concern. “Where are they?”

Hemlock looked back to nod at two of the troopers, who approached you and grabbed your arms tight enough to bruise them. They forced you to stand on your feet, and you swallowed back a pained groan at the sharp jolt in your ribs.

“All in due time.” Hemlock smirked at you. If you weren’t cuffed, you would have smacked that grin right off his lips.

But there was another question he needed to answer. “Where is she?”

You were shocked to see Hemlock’s expression falter for a moment. A victorious amount of hope swelled in your chest as you laughed out an incredulous breath.

“You don’t know where she is, do you?”

The smirk was somehow back. “Like I said, all in due time. For now…” he turned back around and glanced at you over his shoulder, “you’ll serve your purpose.”

Hemlock walked ahead, and the troopers tightened their grasps even more to make you do the same. You fought them, but only for a moment, as your first jerking movement brought that sharp, breathless pain to your side. You wanted to curse your own broken body for putting you out of commission.

As Hemlock and his guards led you through the twisting corridors of Tantiss, you wanted to pester him about whatever “purpose” he had for you, but there was no point. His arrogant all in due time was already playing over and over again in your head, and that was exactly the response you would get. Instead, you dedicated whatever clarity your mind had left to making a plan of escape and rescue.

You eventually saw your destination down a longer corridor. It was a dead end, with only one door awaiting you. There was nothing around to help you identify what could be on the other side of it, with only more bland, gray walls closing you in.

But then you heard the pained screaming before you had even reached the door. No one else had to tell you whose it was.

You pulled back hard on the troopers’ grasps, your sudden adrenaline masking the stabbing pain in your broken ribcage. They shoved you ahead, and as hard as you tried to conceal the shaky panic in your voice, it was no use. “No. Take me back.” You sat back to no avail yet again. “Take me back!”

Hemlock chuckled as you closed the distance to the door. He was laughing.

“I won’t do it! Whatever you’ve schemed, I won’t do it!”

Hemlock stopped just in front of the door, forcing you to listen to the agonized wails from within as he looked at you with his usual smirk. “You’re not in a position to bargain.”

The door opened, and the screaming got louder. Your chest tightened so much that it stole the breath from your lungs as you saw the blue flashing light just ahead, and the person who was trapped at the center of it. Hunter.

Hunter, who had been named for the way he could sense everything—feel everything.

“Stop.” The desperate word left your lips before you could stop it. Your fight or flight had kicked in, and your rationality had vanished. “Stop it. You’ll kill him!”

You were forced down to your knees in the center of whatever kind of sickening lab you were in, and your pleas were unsurprisingly ignored. Your eyes squeezed shut and your chin stayed tucked into your chest as the screaming went on, and on, and on…

It was torturing you almost as much as it was torturing him, and there was no doubt Hemlock knew that.

Then, it stopped. You exhaled your own breath of relief as your head snapped up to observe Hunter. He was dazed at best, his brow lifted in an exhaustion you had never seen from him before. His gaze found Hemlock first before it lowered to you, and even amongst the unimaginable agony he was experiencing, it was easy to identify the bright light in his brown eyes.

“You’re… alive.” Hunter’s voice was light and airy, as if all the energy had been drained from him—but his relief was palpable.

You wanted to cry at your own relief and despair, but you wouldn’t give Hemlock the satisfaction. He had gotten enough from you already.

“That could change.” Hemlock delivered the threat as if it was nothing more than a simple fact. 

No later did the troopers at your sides stick the barrels of their blasters against your neck, though you refused to waver. You kept your chain raised high, your stare remaining in Hunter’s even as his eyes widened in a panic that made you ache.

“You must choose carefully, Sergeant.” Hunter’s stare went beyond you as he no doubt focused his lethal glare onto the scientist. “The fate of your squad and…” a brief, amused chuckle, “your lover depends on it.”

Your own eyes widened at that. How could he have possibly known that?

“Last we spoke, I expressed my shock at a clone’s paternal nature. But I was missing the full picture.” A hand grabbed your head from behind and forced it backwards, making you gasp in surprise as it was held there. Hemlock’s voice was right by your ear, now. “You simply enjoy taking in strays.”

His words couldn’t, and wouldn’t, hurt you, but the hatred in Hunter’s eyes spoke for the both of you. “Choose… your next words… carefully.” He still wasn’t strong enough to speak normally, even though it was clear that he was trying to. His right hand was pulled tight into a fist.

Hemlock huffed and released your head, causing it to fall forward. You recovered quickly, sparing a quick glance around the rest of the room. Wrecker and Crosshair were there, too, but they weren’t awake and were being left alone—for now.

“I like your spirit, CT-9901.” Hearing Hunter reduced to his CT number made you want to spit at Hemlock’s feet, though he was still behind you, concealed from sight like the coward he was. “That’s why you’re still alive. But you’ll have to comply if you intend on staying that way.”

This time, his hands fell onto your shoulders. You jerked in a vain attempt to get them off, but he tightened his grip, only adding to the pained whimper you released when your ribs reacted to the movement. Hunter’s jaw tightened.

“You wouldn’t want to die in front of them, would you?”

Your breath caught in your throat at that. You lowered your stare, your mind once again flooded with the horrid image of Hunter lying limp outside Tantiss’ fortifications. But this wasn’t about you. Whatever Hemlock intended on doing with Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair… it was surely going to kill the part of them you knew and loved, anyway.

When your gaze met Hunter’s, it was clear he had reached that very same conclusion.

You finally spoke up. “Don’t do it.” Your words were aimed at Hunter and him only, a stern yet desperate order.

“No?” Hemlock was still amused. It seemed as if that was his constant state, looking down upon those who failed to see his twisted vision. “Oh, there’s more than his own death at stake.”

There was a brief pause, during which the troopers turned to Hemlock for direction. Then, in a movement too quick for you to process, the one on your left pulled their blade and swiped it across your bicep. You cried out in pain and instinctively went to grab it, but the cuffs kept you from doing so.

“There’s also yours.”

The sound of a struggle indicated that Hunter was trying to fight off his restraint, as impossible as that would be. He was acting as if all the strength hadn’t been drained from him, as if every last nerve ending hadn’t been frayed by Hemlock’s cruel torture, all for your sake.

You lifted your head to look at him. His expression was contorted in a type of rage you had never seen from him before. “I’m okay.” You pushed the words out between gritted teeth as the bleeding wound on your bicep throbbed. “Save your energy.”

You hated the idea of him being subjected to more of Hemlock’s torture, but if he was… you wouldn’t have him wasting all his strength on you.

“You would be wise to take that advice, Sergeant.” Hemlock’s voice was grating. “And to think, all of this could have been avoided if you had just left Omega with me.”

Both you and Hunter bristled at that. Hunter’s eyes somehow got even darker as he stared Hemlock down. “That was… never an option.”

“You think she’ll be safer with you? Once you’ve been conditioned, your first task will be to hunt her down, using those tracking skills they programmed you with. You’ll be the one to bring her back to me.”

Hunter frowned, his lines set in fierce determination. “I won’t… be conditioned.”

First, there was silence. Then, there was another quick flash at your other side, and another cut to match the other. You were caught by surprise yet again, which kept you from concealing your cry of agony.

Hemlock continued on as if it was mere business. “You’ll reconsider.”

You managed to lift your head up enough to gaze at Hunter. With a tightened jaw, you shook your head at him, reinforcing your words from before. He was getting more desperate, and you couldn’t let him give in.

So, you gave both yourself and him a fighting chance.

Summoning all the strength you had left, you swung out your leg hard enough to take down the trooper at your right side. The momentum turned you around to face the trooper on your left, and your cuffed hands worked quickly in snatching his blaster from his hands and slamming it against his helmet. When he crumpled to the ground, it gave you a clear shot at Hemlock.

But Hemlock’s other countless guards were faster.

The blaster bolt hit your shoulder with enough force to send you to the ground. You cried out at the same time Hunter did, closing your eyes as the blazing heat of the painful wound overwhelmed you in sickening waves. You were left on your own to writhe around in agony as Hemlock exchanged some words with Hunter, but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of your blood roaring inside your ears.

When you had somewhat of a grip on the pain, or at least had your own shock working to mask it, you watched Hemlock nod at the guards that surrounded him. He gave them one last order. “Make sure they stay here.”

Hemlock then left without you. Good riddance. But one sound was getting louder, and with both your weakened and bloody arms now out of commission and unable to help you sit back up, much less stand, there was nothing you could do to get away from it.

It was Hunter’s agonized screaming, which was only becoming more and more pained, desperate, and horrified the longer it went on. You couldn’t even cover your ears to muffle it.

You wept. There was no Hemlock to hide from anymore, and these guards could have cared less what you were doing. The sounds of Hunter’s torture were no doubt keeping the sound hidden, anyway.

Eventually, it stopped. Only then did you gain the strength to at least lift your head and look in Hunter’s direction. Through your blurred vision, you could still see that Hunter was unmoving, his face paler in the chair’s lighting than you had ever seen it before.

It was either the sight of him so broken before you or the blood you had lost from your wounds that made your blurred vision fizzle out into black spots. They took over completely until they had pulled you under.

When you came to again, you were being lifted from the ground by an arm tight around your neck. You gasped, your weakened body somehow using the sudden adrenaline to lift your cuffed hands and attempt to fight the grasp off. Everything was still blurry, and the lack of oxygen was only making it worse.

The arm disappeared the moment you heard a crackling, whooshing sound at your side. You fell back to your knees, but before you could fall forward, someone else caught you. After a few coughs and whimpers at the pain it caused in your broken ribs and untreated wounds, you were able to blink a few times to clear your vision and look up.

“Hunter.” Your voice was nearly a cry.

Hunter’s hands cradled the sides of your face. He looked weary, but his gaze told an entirely different story, especially when he spoke. “You’re still with me.” He closed his eyes as his forehead leaned against yours. “Thank the stars.”

Your lips brushed his, but you didn’t have the energy to kiss him, and there were other more pressing matters on your mind. “What happened?”

“Omega found us.” Hunter nodded, though he took a worried glance over his shoulder. “But Hemlock’s getting away with her.” He turned back to you and gave you a once-over. “You need to stay here with Crosshair.”

“No.” You and Crosshair refused the order at the same time. Both you and Hunter looked at Crosshair as he added more. “Not a chance.”

You followed Hunter’s own gaze and then saw it, the absence of Crosshair’s right hand. Your heart plunged into your stomach and threatened to make you sick as you swayed into Hunter. He caught you again, his attention shifting back to you. “Can you make it?”

You focused hard, tightening your jaw. “Whatever it takes to save her.”

Hunter managed to display a small smile for you and nodded before he stood back to his feet. He couldn’t straighten himself all the way, and as he helped you to your feet, you noticed that Crosshair couldn’t, either—but Hunter still shouldered much of your weight. He bent down to grab two blasters and handed one to Crosshair, who he supported with his other side.

As if he hadn’t just been going through torture that fried every single one of his delicate senses.

You were going through the motions as you walked with them, pushing yourself to match their pace for the sake of rescuing Omega. Her fate depended on you, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason why she was at risk yet again. This had to end, and it had to end now.

The group was just about to walk through the door that led to the outside platform when your knees buckled beneath you. Hunter and Crosshair stopped, but you shook your head and gestured to the door.

“Go.” Your demand was stronger than you had expected it to be. “I’ll be right here. She needs you, now.”

That was enough for them. You and Hunter had agreed long ago that Omega’s safety would always come first, and thankfully, he was acting on that now. She would be okay, she had to be okay, and although you weren’t awake long enough to make sure of it, you had a feeling it would work out that way.

The next time you woke was more peaceful than before. The dull, soothing thrum of hyperspace eased you awake, and your heavy eyelids blinked a few times before revealing the sight of Hunter sitting beside you. He was close enough for your cheek to be pressed against his thigh, though as you observed him, you saw that his eyes were closed, and he was slumped in his own slumber.

There was a presence at your other side, too, someone who was curled up next to you. You turned your head and saw her blonde hair before anything else.

The relief that rushed over you was beautifully overpowering, and you couldn’t resist lifting a hand to brush over her sleeping head. Your voice was a quiet whisper as you spoke. “Welcome back, sweet girl.”

Immediately, Omega’s head snapped up, and she stared at you with eyes that were wider and more excited than they should’ve been for someone who had just been sleeping. “Sunny!”

Omega wrapped her arms around your neck, and you caught her with one arm as you laughed in sweetness. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over her back. She was safe, just like you knew she would be.

“I was so scared.” Omega’s voice was muffled by your clothes before she sat back up. She wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “We didn’t know if the bacta would work fast enough.”

“I’m sorry, Megs.” You took her free hand and gave it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Omega smiled at you. “It’s okay.” Her gaze flickered behind you. “We’re all safe, now.”

You followed her stare, turning your head back around to face Hunter. He had woken up at the sound of you and Omega, and his eyes were full of a relief so strong that it was bringing him to tears.

He wasn’t the only one.

You pushed yourself up and wrapped your arms tight around his waist, and he welcomed you into his embrace. Hunter’s hand secured your head against him as you held on tight, reminding yourself to take steady inhales and exhales as the terrifying chaos of the past countless hours began to catch up to you.

None of that mattered anymore. What mattered was exactly what Omega had said: that all of you were safe.

But when you gained the faith to lift your head and cup Hunter’s cheek, all you could picture was the expression of pain he wore under Hemlock’s torture.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was shaking, but your resolve stood strong. “I’m sorry for what they did to you.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “Don’t apologize for their actions.” He cupped your face just like he had on Tantiss. “I should be thanking you for your strength.” His forehead found yours as he closed his eyes in tangible relief. “Thank you for staying alive.”

You ran your thumb underneath his eye. “Thank you for giving me a reason to.”

Hunter let out a quiet exhale of disbelief at that, the sweet breath fanning over your lips. This time, thanks to his efforts and the squad’s, you finally had enough strength to absorb his breath with a deep, desperate kiss.

You clung to one another, exchanging each other’s anxious breaths for pure bliss. Forever would finally be yours, even if there was still much healing to do. But forever was when you could indulge in this moment, not when Omega was still present at your other side, and so you regretfully pulled away from him and offered a sweet smile in exchange for forgiveness.

Your arms tightened back around Hunter, and as you rested your head against him again, he pulled you closer. He invited Omega into his other side, and together, the three of you continued to do the one thing you never could before: rest.

And that was something the galaxy would never, ever take from you again.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519

[pia-nor481]

She…What? Chapter Five

Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel ricciardo x Reader

Daniel finally talks to Oscar and Lando just can’t help but put his hands on her

2.1k words 18+

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Oscar couldn't move, he knew he should have, maybe run to Lando say what he saw. No that would be extremely selfish to ruin his night. Something was pulling Oscar in and keeping him there. He shouldn't be watching his friend's Girlfriend getting railed by another man, and he most certainly shouldn't be squeezing his cock at the sight. Twice tonight she's gotten him hard and yet this time he had no problem with it. He was pulled back to reality upon feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket. It was a message from Lando asking where he was. He looked up one more time before turning away, hoping he'll remember the image of her tomorrow.

She awoke with a pounding headache the next morning, naked in Daniel's bed. "Morning Darling." He grumbled, pulling her closer to avoid the light from the open curtains. She moaned quietly pushing her head further into his chest, not wanting to wake up quite yet. "No, hurts too much." She never really knew her limit when it came to anything so trusting her with alcohol could be dangerous, especially when she wakes up hung over. "I know love." Daniel whispered sweetly, playing with her hair before reaching for the nightstand, grabbing water and some ibuprofen. Daniel didn't drink too much last night, he didn't feel like he deserved it. They continued to enjoy the others company for a while, waiting for the pain killers to kick in. "So, last night, what happened with Lando." Daniel said, lying back with a smirk on his face. "Wow you really are interested in your friend's sex life, it's almost like you want to fuck him yourself." She laughed, finally sitting up as he rolled his eyes. "Well, he blindfolded me, tied my wrists and make me watch him fuck me in front of the mirror, you know, the usual." She laughed, looking for any item of clothing she could used to cover her chest.

"Can we talk about something more serious?" Her head turned fast at his question, chest filling with worry. "Always." She whispered, coming back to him. Daniel let out a large sigh before beginning to speak. "So you remember Oscar seeing us last night?" She nodded slowly, knowing this could be a problem for his career, if Oscar decided to be really petty it could go all wrong for Daniel. "Why didn't you tell me you were sleeping with him." He said with a pointed tone, she was not expecting such an aggressive start to the day. "I'm not now, nor was I before. We agreed that if we were to sleep with anyone then we'd consult each other first... What's happened?" Her hand made contact with his chest, feeling the rapid heart rate. "I saw him in the elevator before I went to the club yesterday, and I may or may not have started on him. But he was still nice to me after and I feel like a bit of a dick. But then he saw us and well, he was getting off on it. No one normal would do that unless they were involved before, and I know for fact that I wasn't sleeping with him." First he was jealous of Lando and now Oscar, he was going a bit too far after being the one to suggest this relationship. "Maybe he's just a pit of a perv because I promise you I've not had any form of sex with him, or frankly even had any contact with him." She elaborated, swinging a leg over Daniel's lap. "Then why was there a McLaren hoodie with the number eighty-one on it in you're room?" He said clearly still annoyed. "Because, Lando was walking around the paddock hard and Oscar was being kind by giving him the hoodie to cover up. Lando left it behind the first time I gave him a blowjob. You can ask him you're self." She spoke quietly with her arms crossed over her chest. "No I believe what you're saying it just hard for me to adjust. That's no excuse but it's the reason. I needed to shift the blame from myself. But that's wrong of me. I'm sorry Love." He muttered the last part into her skin, running his hands over her hips. Guilt quickly consumed him.

"Would you be okay if it happens in the future because I have a feeling either Lando will ask for him or he'll come directly to me." She asked worried it could end badly. "Not really. If I'm honest, I'm still kinda mad at him. I know, I know he's not done anything but still. I just don't know about him. It's different with Lando, I'm actually close with him you know...Let me sort some things out with him first. Then we'll see." He said, chest puffed out slightly. Her nerves eased slightly as she grabbed his jaw, kissing his lips softly.

"You know what I'm like...I love to tease my men." She giggled out, receiving a harsh smack on her ass. "Don't start. You know what I'm like, I'll punish you." He said in a low voice, pulling her up so she was in his lap." You know I'd like that, Danny." She was quick to start grinding down, moaning quietly. "Darling, we can't. We have to be out of the room in half an hour." He groaned desperately wanting her. "Fine." She huffed rolling off of him, looking in his suitcase. "You were fucked twice yesterday and that still wasn't enough, need me to get you off again. Truly insatiable." The Australian laughed, bringing his hand behind his head, letting a sigh escape his lips. "You've never complained." She muttered, throwing a shirt at him. "I could never, I love watching you cum. Although it's not fair that women can have multiple orgasms and men can't. Otherwise you'd be on my dick a lot more." Her only response was a quick laugh as she grabbed his things, placing them neatly in his suitcase. "As much as I love seeing you like this, you need to put some clothes on. My room is a mess and we need to go soon." She stated, pulling Daniel from under the covers.

They walked rather quick towards her room, Daniel's hand around her waist as they made their way through the hallway. After struggling with the key to the door she rushed towards the bed. Daniel was quick to follow, deciding it was best to help her gather her things. "Woah, you didn't tell me you bought this." He stated dumbfoundedly, holding up a slick red vibrator. "I have to keep some tricks up my sleeve." She grabbed the silk from the floor and folded it quickly in her hands, placing it gently in her suitcase. "Oh, you weren't kidding about the blind fold. You really did have fun yesterday." He laughed tapping her ass before walking around the room, noticing the infamous McLaren hoodie. "You still have this?" She looked up briefly before zipping her last bag up. "Yes, I've not had the time to give it back. Lando was supposed to take it back to him the other day actually." She grumbled to herself, headache coming back. Daniel carried the hoodie in his left hand while guiding her out of the room. "Let's get you something to eat, it should help." They left the room in silence and headed towards the lift, she hugged him close as the dizziness set in. "I'm going to take this back to Oscar, gives me an excuse to talk with him." Daniel said, shrugging his shoulders. She smiled before replying, "I'll walk there with you, I want to speak with Lando, see if he even alive."

They walked back into the paddock late in the afternoon. Daniel needed to speak to his team about the race the day before as well as speak with Oscar. They made way to the McLaren hospitality and waited for the drivers to come out. Lando was first to make an appearance, coffee in his hands, trying to stay awake. "Hey Lovely." He whispered out, kissing her cheek. "You alright mate?" He turned to Daniel with a puzzled look. "Yeah, I'm good, you good to speak later though? The usual?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. Lando nodded, slipping his hand in hers. "Can you do me a favour? Send Oscar out here. I need to talk to him." Lando nodded once more, guiding her into the building. It was a general rule that other drivers were not allowed into another team's hospitality. "Hey Osc, Daniel wants to speak with you outside." Oscar was shocked, that much as clear from his face.

If Daniel was concerned about him telling the media about what he saw that was understandable, but realistically he wasn't going to say anything, no matter how much Daniel disliked him. He was nervous walking through the door, he didn't know what to expect. The first thing Oscar noticed was his hoodie in the hands on the other Australian. "So...What did you want to talk about?" His nerves were showing, Daniel handed to top to him before speaking. "Mostly what you saw last night." Oscar cheeks pinked at the thought, if he was being honest, he masturbated in the morning thinking about her, he wanted to be the one making her moan. "That's fucked up man. You cant do things like that to your friend." He was almost furious that how casual Daniel was making the situation. "Hold on, it's not what you think...Lando knows." Daniel rushed out, pulling Oscar to the side, hopefully avoiding the listening ears of everyone around, Oscar let out a quiet and confused 'what?' before letting Daniel speak again. "Look, we have a pretty odd relationship. We were guess together first and I suggested that she start seeing Lando as well." Oscar's jaw dropped midway through the explanation. "She was with Lando the day you gave him you're hoodie, and that may have caused some temporary problems between us. You know, communication is pretty important in this kind of relationship. Well what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for talking to you like that yesterday, you didn't deserve that." Daniel averted his eyes, felling slightly embarrassed. "Thanks, sorry I just don't really know how to react. I understand why you're so mad though. Technically I did take your seat and caused a multitude of problems for you, so it's alright."

"I do have a few questions if that's alright." Oscar stated, pulling the hoodie over his head, quickly realising it didn't smell like him or Lando. Daniel nodded quickly, looking around. "So is this some kind of open relationship or is she...you know... a prostitute?" Oscar cringed using that word but anything else sounded too vulgar. Daniel laughed loudly, head falling back slightly. "No she's not. We aren't really together either. It's complicated. But yeah, I think open relationship is the best way to put it." Oscar nodded, finally understanding, although he with still on edge around him.

At the same time, Lando was quick to pull her into his drivers room. Kissing her neck as soon as the door was closed, she moaned quietly, knowing there was still plenty of McLaren employees in the building. "Missed you." He mumbled into her skin. It was when Lando woke up to an empty space on his bed he realised how much he craved her presence. "You were with me last night." She giggled, feeling him sucking on the base of her neck. He wanted to tell her she was all he could think about, he wanted to say that she was consuming him, but he just couldn't, he didn't know how. "Doesn't mean I don't miss you." She tugged on his hair lightly, wanting to look at him. "I have a little proposal to tell you about." Lando moved back, pulling her to sit on the bed with him. "Daniel and I have talked about it and of course I need to speak with you as well. What about bringing Oscar in on this?" Lando didn't speak for a while, and it concerned her very much. "I mean, I don't really mind. It doesn't affect me too much." He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. Not really seeing how this was supposed to bother him. "Don't tell him about it though, I want to see how he reacts to being told about our relationship. I'm not sure whether he will ask you or me about it first." She said, lifting his shirt up. Lando made haste in pulling it off, reaching for her top. "Definitely ask me...Now come on, take your clothes off."

Chapter Six

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XIV)

Chapter 14: Heartbreak

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...

Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.

It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 3450

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”

“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”

“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”

Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.

“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”

“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”

“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”

“Whose blood did you drink this week?”

Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.

“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”

“Erm… yes…?”

“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”

Andrew sat straighter this time.

“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”

“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”

“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”

Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.

“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”

“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”

Andrew frowned.

“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”

“I think you should talk to her.”

“Why? Sam, what is it?”

There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.

“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.

“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”

Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…

But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.

“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”

“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”

“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Good… good…”

When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.

Choose me?

Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.

He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.

He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.

I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…

No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.

He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.

You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…

You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.

You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.

“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”

You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.

You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.

“You’re alright? I can start…”

“No, I… I reckon I should start.”

“Okay.”

He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…

You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.

But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.

You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…

Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.

“Wait, wait… stop…”

You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”

“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”

“Is that wise?”

“Do we really need to be wise?”

It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…

He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…

Fuck all of this…

“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”

“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”

You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.

He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.

“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.

He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.

“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”

“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”

He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.

“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.

“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.

He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.

“We need to stop sleeping together.”

He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.

“What?”

“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”

And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…

“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”

“I have a date next week.”

He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.

“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”

A date? Next week? Maggie?

You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…

“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.

It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.

There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”

His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.

You were regretting him now?

“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”

“So… you… you have a date?”

“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”

“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”

Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.

“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”

“Oh…”

At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…

You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…

“I just… it was… good.”

He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.

He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…

“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”

“I understand.”

Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?

But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?

He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…

“Andy… are you angry?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.

Where the fuck was his sock?

“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.

You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.

“It was nice.”

Where was that fucking sock?!

“Andy?”

He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…

“You’re okay? Can you say something?”

Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.

“Andy, wait!”

But he was already outside of your bedroom.

“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”

He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.

“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”

He shrugged you off when you reached for him.

“Andy!”

But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.

He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…

This was nothing but sex.

It didn’t mean anything.

Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!

His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.

Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…

Only an almost…

He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.

So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?

He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.

He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.

If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?

He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.

Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?

Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.

It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.

The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.

“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.

“Is it Y/N?”

He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.

“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.

“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”

She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.

“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”

[freyaphoria]

HIIIIII I'm too shy to say this, I really like and so into yandere ateez (especially yunho and seonghwa asjxbvg) and thank god I found your account and I really like your works thank you so much❤️❤️❤️

can you do yandere psychotic best friend yunho who is jealous of y/n 's boyfriend bcs she didn't tell yunho for dating, it will be great if yunho keeps her in his "special" place🥹 love youuuuu

Hello! First of all, I liked your idea very much, but I think I couldn't write it. It seriously didn't sit well with me at all. I wrote some parts of the story and it had been in drafts for a long time, but I felt like I was lost in the story and couldn't get it together. This is the first time I've experienced something like this. I am very sorry. Still, I want to share it with you. I hope you won't get bored while reading. AND srry for my English♡ AND THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS♡

Best Friends Forever

tw: yandere best friend Yunho, boyfriend Seonghwa, blood, violence, manipulation, yunho is annoying, knife, death, corpse, idk it's yandere fic expect everything

wc: 4113- WAIT WHAT???

taglist: @aim-blossom

(I wrote kinda after story but please read the main fic first)

You and Yunho had been best friends for about 12 years. You met in primary school and have been inseparable ever since. Yunho had been very protective of you since those times. He didn't want you to have another friend, he would pout when you were talking to your classmates and try to attract your attention. You would have found it cute at the time; Yunho's high school entrance exam score is higher than yours and he enrolled in the high school you went to instead of going to a better school didn't bother you either. After all, you were happy with Yunho.

But things started to go wrong when someone asked you out. Since you and Yunho were like conjoined twins and the only point where you separated was when you went to the bathroom, that boy ask you at the bathroom door. He was someone you were interested in, and you were very excited and happy when he asked you out. Neither of you have ever had a lover before. Yunho always said there was no need for a lover when we had each other. Since you were asked out for the first time in your life, you didn't know what to do and you told that boy to give you time to think.

When you went to Yunho, you saw that his face was sullen and his mood was low. When you asked what happened, he didn't give you an answer and said he was sleepy. Whenever Yunho got angry, he used the excuse that he was sleepy and wanted to be alone. So you didn't ask him any more questions and focused on your own work.

You didn't tell Yunho that someone had asked you out because you were embarrassed. Time passed, you decided to accept, but you couldn't find that boy at school. When you asked his friends where he was, you learned that he was missing. It seemed odd that he was missing because he was a popular kid and there was no reason for him to disappear, they suspected something had happened to him. Again, of course, you didn't suspect something.

Something bad happened once that you will never forget. While you were walking outside with Yunho, a middle-aged man tapped you on the shoulder and gently pulled you back to ask something. But the moment his hand touched your shoulder, Yunho grabbed the man's collar, pinned him to the tree behind, and started hitting him hard in the face. It happened so fast that before you knew it, the man was lying on the ground covered in blood. When you grabbed Yunho's arm and tried to stop him, you saw how scary his eyes were. It was your first time seeing this side of Yunho.

When it was time for you to enroll in college, Yunho was trying to convince you to go to the same university. Because your families loved you both very much, they allowed you to enroll in a university outside the city.

You rented a tiny house, it was a cute dorm with two rooms, a living room and a kitchen. Everything was going very well. Until Yunho starts meddling in your everything.

When you went out with your girlfriends, you had to send Yunho your location and tell him who you were meeting with. If he found out that you were lying, he would be in an unhappy mood at home all day long and give you silent treatment.

"Girls wait, I have to inform Yunho that we are going to the party. Maybe he won't allow it. " One of the girls let out a sighed. "What is he to you? Your boyfriend? Your father? Why are you asking him for permission?" You texted Yunho and rolled your eyes at your friend. "He thinks what's best for me. The last time I didn't listen to him and went to Hongjoong's party, his friend was pulling me into his bedroom." You looked at Yunho's message notification.. He always saw it as soon as you texted him. Another friend of yours mumbled. "He was incredibly hot. I'd like to be in your place." After rolling your eyes at that friend too, you read the message.

Yuyu: Where do you think you're going?

Yuyu girls insisted, I will

show up for a while and then

leave.

Yuyu: No, you can't go. You don't know who is there. Why don't you go to a cafe?

"He definitely didn't give permission, did he?" You huffed, looking at your phone and shaking your head. "No he didn't." As you were leaving your friends and getting ready to return home, your friend stopped you. "Enough is enough, I'm so tired of this situation. We'll get there and Yunho won't be able to stop you." Before you could say anything, your friends grabbed your arm and started dragging you. "Wait! Let me at least reply to his message!"

Okay, we're going to the

cafe next to the subway.

Yuyu: Send me your location when you arrive.

Wooyoung, your distant friend from the same department, used to throw the best parties you've ever seen. You had attended with Yunho a few times and had a lot of fun. When you entered the door, you were greeted by Wooyoung's best friend San. "You? Where is Yunho? Am I dreaming or what? Or did you finally manage to walk around separately?" He mockingly put his hand to his heart and pretended to have a heart attack. "San, don't exaggerate, we could hang out separately sometimes." San smiled at you and gestured for you to go inside. Your friends ran inside and got lost in the crowd. "Sometimes. It would be more accurate to say rarely." He took two drinks from the table and handed one to you. "He's so on your side that we didn't get to meet properly last time.” He took a sip of his drink and extended his hand to you. "I'm San." You shook his hand and laughed. "Oh really? I didn't know." When San opened his mouth to say something, the guy who studied in the same department as Yunho came behind San and put his arm around his shoulder. "We're out of drinks, can you get new ones from the garage?" San finished the drink in his hand and nodded his head. "Can you keep an eye on her until I get back? She's trying to socialize without her owner for the first time." As San ran away, you shouted after him to shut up.

“Uhm, what did he mean?” You were so embarrassed that you couldn't make eye contact. "It's nothing important, he's just kidding." You laughed nervously. "I'm Seonghwa, by the way. I'm in the same department as your friend." You finally lifted your head and looked at Seonghwa's face. You seemed mesmerized. His facial features were so beautiful that for a moment you wanted to touch his face to check whether he was real or not.

"I know, I've seen you before." You introduced yourself and shook hands. At that moment, your phone vibrated. There were 8 messages and 2 missed calls from Yunho. "Oh I'm sorry. I need to call my friend. Is there a quiet place here?" Seonghwa thought for a moment and answered. "Wooyoung's room. He doesn't let anyone in at parties. You can talk there. I'll let you in." You went upstairs and entered the room and Seonghwa closed the door and left you alone. You called him directly without looking at the messages.

"Where are you!?" His voice sounded urgent and angry. "Don't worry, I'm fine." "I didn't say how are you. I said, where are you?" His tone of voice had changed. "The girls insisted so much. I couldn't say no." Yunho sighed on the other end of the phone. "That's why I tell you not to be friends with others. They always lead you into bad things!" You wondered if he might be right, but you weren't doing anything bad. You were just at your friend's party. "I'm going home Yunho." When you hung up the phone, tears filled your eyes. You were tired of him meddling in your everything. You also wanted to attend parties and hang out like your other firends.

When you suddenly opened the door to the room, Seonghwa, who was leaning against the wall next to the door, jumped. "Oh you scared me- Wait are you crying?" You tried to wipe away the tears that filled your eyes with your hands. "I'm fine. I have to go." Your voice cracked and tears began to flow from your eyes. "You can't go anywhere like this. Calm down first. If you want, you can tell me what happened, I'll listen to you." You looked at Seonghwa. He said it very sincerely. You simply told him what happened about your toxic friendship with Yunho, and Seonghwa listened intently without taking his eyes off you. "You must be so overwhelmed. Come on, let me hug you." He had no other intentions while hugging. He hugged you very shyly. He just wanted to comfort you. For the first time in your life, a man other than Yunho and who wasn't from your family was hugging you.

Once you calmed down a bit, you broke the hug to go back home. Seonghwa offered to take you home but you refused. You didn't want to provoke Yunho any further. Seonghwa wasn't comfortable with the fact that you were going home alone. So he asked you to text him as soon as you got home and you got each other's numbers.

When you got home, not much happened. Yunho was also upset with you and didn't talk. To win his heart, you offered to play Valorant together even though you didn't like it at all, and Yunho immediately ran to his computer.

This is how you started talking to Seonghwa. Just as you met very quickly, you also became lovers very quickly. Usually, since your classes with Yunho were at different times, Seonghwa would skip class and come to meet you while Yunho was in class. You used to text each other when you were at home. You were afraid to talk on the phone because if Yunho heard, he would definitely question who you were talking to. You talked like this for 2 months and Seonghwa said he wanted to date you. You truly loved him with all your heart and you were sure that he loved you too. That's why you accepted and became lovers.

You decided to hide it from Yunho for a while. Seonghwa was also not happy with Yunho's restrictive actions, but he respected you because he knew Yunho's value in you and didn't say anything.

Yunho, of course, understood that something was going on. You were spending more time on your phone, you were getting ready every morning with more enthusiasm for college, you were taking more care of yourself, and you were laughing much more than before. But he waited because he wanted you to come and tell him yourself.

Yunho could tell from the decrease in your grades and the increase in the number of classes you failed that you were not attending classes. One day, he decided not to attend class and follow you. When he saw you and Seonghwa hugging and you kissing him lightly on the lips, he almost jumped on Seonghwa right there and beat him until he broke all his bones. But of course he wasn't going to do that in front of you again, so he waited for you to come back to class.

When you returned to class half an hour later, Yunho approached Seonghwa. "Hello Seonghwa, I have a problem with my car. Can you help me?" He was trying to stay as calm as possible so that his plan would work. "Hi Yunho. Uh, I don't know much about cars, but..." Yunho roughly wrapped his arm around his shoulder and started dragging him towards the college parking lot. "It's simple, don't worry."

He opened his car door and pushed Seonghwa into the backseat. "Can you see there's a problem there?" He said, looking behind as if he was looking for something. "What? I can't see anything." Yunho opened the front door, took the crowbar in his hand and got out of the car. He approached the back door and looked at Soenghwa. "The problem is that you're touching the girl who is my everything." Just as he was about to lift the crowbar and hit him, Seonghwa slid sideways in the backseat and tried to open the other door. He tried with all his might but couldn't open it because Yunho had locked it; so he started kicking the door. But Yunho reached towards him and hit him in the neck with the crowbar and Seonghwa fainted.

You called Seonghwa about 5 times but he is not answering. Thinking that his phone was out of battery, you went to the classroom where he had a lesson, but you couldn't find him. Just as you were about to turn around and go look elsewhere, you collided with someone.

"Tiny, were you looking for me?" Yunho grabbed your forearms and hugged you. "Oh, um yeah. What are you doing?" You lowered your face so he couldn't tell the look of tension on your face. "I was looking for you too. My lesson is over, I will go home. I thought I'd take you too." You were still looking at Seonghwa with nervous eyes as Yunho wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the classroom. "There's no need, Yuyu, I have some work to do, I'll come home later." Yunho knew you were looking for Seonghwa; After all, he had his phone in his hand and had seen your missed calls and messages. "But we have a very special guest at home waiting for you. Let's not keep him waiting, shall we?" Your eyebrows suddenly frowned. Him? Who is he? "Who-" He interrupted you by pulling you a little faster. "You'll see when we get home."

When you got into the car, you suddenly noticed something. His car smelled different. It smells like the perfume you bought for Seonghwa. "Did you change your perfume?" Yunho was smiling. But it was different. "No tiny, I use the same perfume." You trusted your senses and sure enough, his car smelled like Seonghwa. You wondered if you were dreaming because you were so worried about him.

The car ride took longer than you expected. You were constantly texting Seonghwa but he still wasn't responding. You even thought that he got bored of you and left you, but you were fine the last time you met him.

"Where are we going? This highway doesn't go to our house" You were surprised when Yunho drove into a forested area. You looked at Yunho's face, but it was like he wasn't your friend. It was very cold and... scary.

"Yunho? I said where are we're going?" You raised your voice but he was still driving without looking at you. Another ten minutes passed like this in the forest and you finally came to an old house. Even though it was old, it looked well-kept, but it was obvious that no one had lived in it.

"Where is this place? Why did we come here?" Yunho got out of the car and opened your door. "Get off the car." His tone was as foreign as you've ever heard before. "Yun-" "I said. Get. Off. That. Fucking. Car." He uttered each word in an increasingly harsh tone. You got scared and got out of the car and backed away from him, but he grabbed your arm and dragged you home. You tried to look around a bit, but all you saw were huge pine trees reaching up to the sky.

Yunho unlocked the door and pushed you inside. You held on to the wall to keep your balance and not fall to the ground. Now you were getting angry too. "Yunho seriously... What's your problem?" He locked the door again and turned to you. "What is my problem? What is your problem? Since when did you start doing things behind my back?" You more or less understood what he was talking about. "Yunho what you're talking about- wait, that bag-" Your blood ran cold when you saw the bag on the old sofa. The bag that Seonghwa always used and the one hanging on the bag was the Lego keychain that you bought for each other. "Huh? Bag?" Yunho looked at where you were looking and smiled. "Oh, that bag belongs to our guest. Should we go give it to him?" When Yunho took the bag and handed it to you, you saw the tiny blood stains on it. "Yunho, is Seonghwa here?" Your hands started to shake. You understood what was going to happen from the atmosphere around. "Why don't you come and see for yourself?" Yunho grabbed your forearm and dragged you to the stairs. Your legs wouldn't have carried you if Yunho hadn't held you tightly as you walked down the dusty stairs.

You wished he'd never opened that basement door. If you had the opportunity to talk, you would probably object to him not opening it.

When he opened the door to the dark basement, the light coming out hit your boyfriend's face covered in blood lying on the ground and he tried to retreat back, whining. "Hwa!!!" Removing your arm from Yunho, you ran to Seonghwa and crouched down on the ground. "Hwa!!! What happened to you!?" His eyes widened when he looked at your face and he tried to sit up. "No, you shouldn't be here." You looked at his face, his lip was split and somewhere on his head was bleeding. As you moved your eyes over his body, you found a wound somewhere. His leg, arm, abdomen, everywhere was covered in blood.

"Who did this to you?" Your hands were shaking, you couldn't touch him. You felt as if the moment you touched it would make his wounds wider. "Love, you have to go. Run away from here. He is crazy-" He coughed up blood when Yunho kicked him in the back, splattering all over you. "Yunho!!!" You didn't want to believe that your best friend was the one who did this to Seonghwa. You looked at his face as if waiting for an explanation from him. "What? He called you love." He shrugged and went deeper into the room, searching for something.

"You n-need to get out of h-here as soon as possible. Don't e-even look back." He tried to push you. It was very ironic that even though the bone in his arm was broken and was out, he still thought about you. "Hwa! Don't speak. I will help you." You got behind him and wrapped your arms around his chest and tried to drag him. "Agh!!" You stopped for a moment as he groaned in pain. "Hwa, give me some help. Can you push yourself?" He put his hands on yours and tried to remove them away from his chest. "We can't do this love. You need to run- AGH!!!" He shouted as Yunho brought a hammer down on his leg. "Yunho!!! Stop!!!!" You rushed forward and grabbed Yunho's arms. "If you're done with your loving escape plan, can we get back on topic?" When Yunho turned to look at you, Seonghwa crawled forward and tried to grab you. "Don't h-hurt her!" Yunho rolled his eyes and twirled the hammer in his hand. "You don't seem in a position to speak." He put his hands on your chin and lifted your head and you looked into his eyes. His eyes were so foreign. He was definitely not the Yuyu you knew.

"Do you want to explain why you hid your relationship from me?" He moved closer to you, his breath caressing your lips. "W-what relationship?" If you were the reason he did this to Seonghwa, you would never forgive yourself for the rest of your life. Yunho was a bit of an obsessive guy, you already knew that. But you never thought he would get this far.

"Don't play dumb. Or how about this?-" When he slammed the hammer on Seonghwa's leg again, Seonghwa's breath hitched and he couldn't even scream. "No, wait! I'll explain!" You grabbed his arm and tried to pull the hammer from his leg. He turned to you and looked for an answer. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid of your reaction. But I was going to tell you! I swear! I'm just waiting for the right time." Yunho growled as if he didn't like your answer. "You don't understand." He got up from the floor and grabbed one of the large knives hanging on the back wall. "It's not my reaction that matters. What's important is that you betray our friendship and date someone." You rushed forward as you put the knife to Seonghwa's neck. "Please stop! Don't! I'm sorry!" He started pressing the knife on Seomghwa's neck. "Don't? Is he that important to you?" You froze when you saw the blood flowing from Seonghwa's neck. "Is he so important that he brings tears to your eyes? Why have you never cried for me but are you crying for him?" Seonghwa started to squirm in place. He was still looking into your eyes with love but fear. You knew he didn't blame you. "Drop the knife! What do you want?" Yunho pretended to think for a while. "Hmm... What do I want?.. I want you." Seonghwa tried to move angryly. "W-what does that mean?" Yunho chuckled. "So I want you, your body, your soul, your mind, everything. I want to be the only one on your mind. Only I want to look at you, only I want to hear you." He looked at Seonghwa with disgust for a second. "Without this idiot. I want to be the one to love and protect you. So while your dear boyfriend dies here, I will take his place and you won't be able to leave here." Seonghwa tried to reach you with his arms as Yunho pressed the knife dangerously deep. You grabbed his arms. Yunho let him go and you pulled him into your chest, cradling his head in your arms. "You crazy psychopath! Why did you do this!" As Seonghwa started to tremble in your arms, you placed your hand on his neck and tried to stop the bleeding. Yunho was watching you from the side, as if pitying you.

"Please help him! I swear we won't talk again. I'll do whatever you want!" Yunho headed towards the basement door. "Let me leave you alone in your last moments. Seonghwa, if you kiss her, I will find and hunt you in your other life too.”

Seonghwa's trembles began to subside and his breathing began to slow down. His eyes never left yours. He was still looking at you with admiration. "I'm so, so sorry. I swear I didn't know he was like this. I will help you. Phone. Where is my phone? I can't find it, where is it?-" Just as you were about to get up to look around anxiously, he tried to reach for your neck and pull you towards him. When he looked at your lips, you understood what he wanted. You kissed him. "Escape from here. Live for me."

When Yunho returned to the basement with a large black bag in his hand, he found you cowering in the corner of the room, your legs pulled up to you and crying. "Ah, you loved him that much?" He leaned over the body lying on the ground and checked his pulse. "If you loved him, why are you in the corner and not with him right now?" He started to open the bag. "Cold." Yunho paused for a second, looked at you confused. "It's summer. Isn't it hot in here? Why are you cold?" You pointed to the body lying on the ground with your index finger. Yunho smiled at you. "Oh yeah, he's cold."

You were still in your corner, watching your best friend put your boyfriend's body into a bag. How funny.

When Yunho finished his work and approached you, you tried to retreat more. "What? Why are you avoiding me?" You couldn't look at him. "I don't know you anymore." You really didn't know the person in front of you. All the memories of 12 years were instantly erased and you were meeting someone new. "Don't you recognize me? It's me, your boyfriend." He caressed your face but you didn't feel it. Because of the shock you were experiencing, you didn't feel anything, neither physically nor emotionally. "And this is our new home."

a/n: This is the longest thing I've ever written and I've been trying to write for days but I keep getting lost in the story. And I didn't like it at all, I apologize to you again. I would like to thank you if you read this far without getting bored, because I would get bored.

[gyalwtf]

how can you not see it?

how do we feel about the new banner style??

Details ; Aj Shabeel × (shorter)fem!reader. reader also has a channel of her own btw

Warnings ; swearing, aj is a meanie, this guy is INLOVE

Aj being the menace he is, and you being the most gullible person in the world was surely a recipe for disaster. I guess that's his way of affection. He's actually so mean, but he doesn't want you to know he means it lovingly, like romantically lovingly.

The amount of times he's told you the most bewildering piece of information ever, only then to follow with, “you fucking idiot, I was lying!” or a “no.” whenever you asked if he was really telling the truth, all while laughing at you of course.

Niko, the unhelpful best friend he is, always teases him about you, right to your face, completely dumping his efforts of trying to keep his feelings away down the drain. It's not like Aj isn't obvious either, like you could tell from a mile away that something was odd with how he acted with you. I mean, you couldn't tell, but everyone else could.

The amount of times he was called out during a beta squad shoot — where you were invited as the guest, for staring at you was absolutely outrageous, but you know what's worse? You thought it was a joke! You thought that, ‘oh they need to stop bullying Aj for shit he didn't do,’ when he was literally just staring at you the entire time instead of paying attention.

There isn't a single universe he doesn't bully you for your height, like how are you shorter than him?! Seriously, how. Also brings you up every time someone calls him shorter, always yapping about how you're shorter or whatever. It's really funny. It's also funny that he absolutely violates you with his insults, but always also defending you whenever someone tries to insult you. Not direct defending, but more like saying that they're worse than you and blah blah blah.

It feels like everyone in the beta squad — and their other friends as well, know about Aj's crush, crazy how you don't know. You know what the biggest giveaway is though? His pet peeve is physical touch, where the hell did that pet peeve go when he's around you. He isn't necessarily having physical touch with you a lot, but if you ever tried to initiate out of the blue, he didn't exactly deny it.

He's such a cutie. One time you tied up his hair into pigtails for whatever reason, he thought he looked ridiculous and everyone laughed at him, and you also did cause he looked adorable you couldn't lie. He would never actually admit it, but he wants you to play around with his hair again, he really liked it.

Absolutely no way you don't have one of his silly hats. Like, one time in a video, he brought a new one, and at some point you took his hat. Like just straight up went, “don't mind if i do!” he didn't mind of course, maybe just acted like he did but he let you wear it the rest of the video. He definitely 'forgot' to take it back — he wanted you to keep it, something about you wearing his hat, and keeping it made him feel funny, and when you texted him about it, he said not to worry and to just keep it. So that was his plan hm.

Following the last paragraph, the clip where you took his hat became one of the main intros to many ship edits of you both. Funfact: he watches those ship edits. For sure, secretly smiling like an idiot when he watches them. However, the comments he leaves say otherwise, like he replies with full on “oh hell nahhhh” but there was this one time that a fan got him to watch one while he was streaming. He couldn't hide a smile from forming on his face, no matter how hard he tried. Unsurprisingly, that also became an edit intro.

Definitely has you come over sometimes to stream with him, or to hangout whenever you both aren't busy. What a coincidence that Niko is somehow always out when you come over, Aj tells you he's busy, but Niko would tell you he wants you both to have some alone time. Streams with you are just full of teasing and bullying. Apparently, that's both of you guys' love languages.

You wouldn't trade him for the world. His blonde highlights, evil ass but also cute most of the time smile, his funny personality, the way he speaks, the way he acts around you, and everything else, is all so important to you. Especially that hat you stole from him.

Was gonna post this on tuesday, but i accidentally posted it now. Whoops. Hope you guys enjoyed it though! First Aj fic aaaagh.

© gyalwtf 2024 - please do not repost, translate or copy any of my works on other platforms without permission.

[norrizzandpia]

Could you please write something about lando and some sort of enemies thing? even just a blurb, i just need lando fucking the sassiness out of someone.

Ok so i loved this but it isnt smut and its very angsty and i kinda just took the idea and ran with it

IM SO SORRY IF THIS ISNT WHAT YOU WANTED PLZ FORGIVE ME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Enemies To Lovers, Ya Know? (LN4)

Summary: They’ve always hated each other. Always. Right?

Warnings: language, lando being highkey toxic but we can just ignore that!, im sorry i dont know if i like this plz let me know if its shit in the comments 🤞🏻, gender stereotyping? Im not sure the term lmk 💗

Note: SHES A LONG ONE SO GRAB THAT POPCORN also very cutesy and fluffy ones are on the way in apology for this

It wasn’t a secret to the fans, media, or the entirety of the grid.

Lando and Y/n hated each other.

No one was quite sure when it started or how it happened, but it was clear that the two couldn’t stand each other. Through menacing glares and snide comments, both of them showed how much loathing really went on behind the scenes. It didn’t help that they were teammates, both of them driving for the beautiful papaya, as it brought on horrible reviews and narratives. Continuously making McLaren look reckless, Lando and Y/n had gotten countless amounts of scoldings from the PR team, the employees pleading with them to stop the games and just get along, but, for some reason, they never could.

Y/n hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice, and Lando…

Well, Lando didn’t exactly know why he hated her. She had never done anything to him, in fact, she had been so sweet to him the first time they met he had been convinced he was going to fall in love with her, but, over time, the anticipation of his inevitable love for her transformed into pure annoyance at her presence.

“Can you please stop breathing so loud?” Her voice broke through his thoughts as they waited for their next interview.

Rolling his eyes, Lando set his gaze on her, “Are you asking me to stop breathing?”

“No, I’m asking you to stop doing it so loud.” She countered.

Usually, he wouldn’t comment on someone’s bad behavior, but she made him so aggravated that he couldn’t help but look her in the eyes and say, “No.”

His sickly sweet smile made her fist twitch at her side as she got up from her chair and gathered her things, “God, you never stop, do you?”

He laughed as she left, “Not for you.”

—

“How do you guys even coexist let alone be teammates?” Daniel asked Y/n as they sat and ate lunch in Alpine Hospitality.

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

He sat back, his fork falling to the side of his salad as he stared at her intently, “Would this have anything to do with that conversation you had with me when you first started racing for McLaren?”

Her head lulled against the table as she groaned, “Daniel, I’m so sick of you bringing that up. I was just hyped up with excitement over being the first girl to race in F1. What I said to you then was the product of delusion and a charming smile.”

His head tilted, “Mhm, sure. So, when you said you loved him, that was fabricated too?”

Her heart sped up and her cheeks burned at the inference, “Yes. You can’t love someone within a few months of knowing them.”

His eyes told her he knew exactly the kind of war that was going on in her head, “Y/n, it’s okay to love someone. It’s okay to put yourself out there.”

She saw the way his hand reached for hers lying on the table, but she pulled it back to dodge his digits trying to comfort her, “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t love him then.”

His mischievous smile haunted her, “I didn’t say his name, Y/n. All I said was it’s okay to love someone. I never said ‘Lando’”.

—

“So, your rivalry is one of the main things you two are known for on the track. How has this affected your relationship off the track? What I mean to ask is does the distaste come from what’s going on on track or just a wavelength you two can’t catch?” The reporter asked, his eyes searching for real answers in the PR-trained athletes.

Y/n opened her mouth to answer, the planned words ready to fly off her tongue, but Lando’s scoffing and interruption stopped her, “There isn’t a rivalry on track. If you know what I mean.”

The reporter’s eyebrows shot up, the opportunity for a juicy story right in front of him, “Are you saying Y/n doesn’t compare to your level of driving skills?”

Even though she hated him and expected nothing but the worst, she was still surprised when he didn’t hesitate to nod, “Well, she hasn’t been in Formula 1 for as long as I have. I have more experience and, therefore, I’m a better driver.”

His lack of humbleness had her blood boiling, “You’re answering this question as if I’m not sitting right here.”

All the men in the room turned at her voice, seemingly realizing she was sitting up there just like he was. The obliviousness to her presence wasn’t something she wasn’t familiar with, it happening on a daily basis, but that didn’t stop the sinking feeling from setting in.

“Do you have something to add?” The reporter shot out, his gaze flipping from both drivers.

She turned her head, glancing at Lando, before continuing, “I think it’s inappropriate for you to ask about Lando and I’s relationship. That’s something between him and I, not anyone else, and I think Lando’s answer is arrogant and inappropriate as well seeing as I’m actually ahead of him in the Constructer’s Championship.”

Each of the men addressed in her statement went to defend themselves, but she put up her hands, “I’m not done. As a woman in this sport, you have to be able to set boundaries with the people around you, especially teammates,” She glared at Lando, “It is clear you were and are trying to start something by your question and Lando may be too naive to see it, but I do not appreciate it. Next question.”

The room was silent before another reporter stood up, a woman this time, and asked her own question. A good, informative one that had Y/n smiling at her in gratefulness.

She answered it with ease even with Lando’s death stare drilling into her side.

—

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL!” He screamed as soon as they were alone. She knew it was coming. He had given her rude looks all throughout the panel ever since she shut him and that reporter down.

Looking at him like he had grown two heads, Y/n waved her arms around, “What did you want me to do, Lando? Let you talk shit on me while I was right there?”

His annoyed groan echoed throughout the room as he took a moment to reel himself in before looking at her like she could die and he wouldn’t care, “I wasn’t talking shit and you know it. All you did was take an opportunity to make me look stupid in front of people who control my reputation.”

“Oh, wow I didn’t know that, Lan! Thanks for clearing it up!” She said sarcastically.

His finger came to point at her, “I worked so hard to get where I am, I love my job, and yet you make me question leaving every single day.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “Worked hard? Are you kidding me, Lando? Your daddy paid for your way in here and we both know it.”

That seemed to strike a nerve as his face heated up in anger before he hit the wall in a sheer mask of rage, “WHERE DO YOU GET OFF, BITCH?”

Her eyes closed and she inhaled a slow breath before saying, “Is bitch all you have? Really?”

He stalked towards her quickly, his frame towering over hers as he stared her down, “I have so much more, but, for the sake of your feelings, I won’t do that to you.”

She laughed with a dry, short sound, “Try me.”

His eyebrows lifted, “Really?”

“Go right ahead.”

Those three words seemingly ruined her life as Lando went into a full-fledged monologue about why he hated her with every cell in his body, “I think it’s crazy the amount of ego you have because all you really are is a PR stunt, so McLaren looks good. Why do you think they would sign a 20-year-old girl who can’t drive for shit? It’s because you’re a girl, Y/n. Your whole message about this industry needing to stop using women as pawns is bullshit. You wanna know why? It’s because you’re the epitome of that with the way you were only signed and you were only ever going to be signed because of your gender and the things it could do for our image. Do you understand me? You don’t mean shit to this team.”

It was as if he had pulled her greatest fears from the depths of her body and presented them in front of her, confirming them. Her eyes watered and her hands shook. Not from anger, but from the crushing reality that Lando never cared about her. From their early days when she thought he was flirting with her and that the jacket he draped over her shoulders when it was cold meant something more to now, where he was yelling at her and tearing her down piece by piece, she didn’t recognize him.

No amount of time spent in bed trying to understand what she had done to him to make him hate her in the way he did would never be enough to conjure up some form of an explanation.

She would have to live with the fact that the man she loved hated her more than anything else in the world. That he could see her lying wounded on the street and he would swerve his car to injure her more.

Somewhere in the span of her thinking, she had begun to cry. The soft, wet tears slowly made their way down her face as if to tease Lando and the mistake he had just made. The meaningless words dawned on him too late as Y/n roughly turned away from him and made her way to the door, slamming it shut and being as loud as she could be.

The knowing faces she saw as she ran out of the hospitality told her that their yelling had been heard by everyone. Something which made her skin crawl and stomach churn at the thought of.

Her head throbbed as one idea bounced around its walls.

Her time at McLaren was effectively over.

—

Whispering increased as Lando made his way through the doors of McLaren’s Headquarters. He had been called for an impromptu meeting with Charlotte and Zak, a pairing that scared him shitless.

His footsteps halted when her short bob caught his eye outside of Zak’s office, “Hey, is everything okay?”

Her panicked gaze met him and she aggressively grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt and pulled him into the room, Zak already standing there in wait, “What did you do?”

His hard tone made Lando rethink his entire life, “What do you mean?”

Charlotte hit his chest, “Don’t be stupid, Lando. What did you say to her?”

He shook his head, “I seriously have no clue what you two are talking about.”

Zak yelled in annoyance, “Did you not check your phone? Your teammate’s just resigned because, and I quote, ‘it wasn’t the right fit’. Lando, what did you say to her?”

The air in the room disappeared as Lando’s eyes narrowed, “She what?”

He couldn’t think, all he could do was slowly slide down to sit in the chair behind him as his legs gave out under him.

“She quit, Lando,” Charlotte repeated.

“Lando, if you don’t tell us what you said to her right now, you won’t be the only driver out of a seat.” Zak threatened.

He put his head in his hands as he mumbled, “I told her she was only here because we wanted to sign a woman for good PR.”

A creepy, deafening silence fell upon the room as Zak and Charlotte gazed at each other. The two of them were finally at their wits end with the two driver’s misplaced dislike for each other.

Charlotte cleared her throat, “What?”

“I told her she was only here becaus-” He began to repeat, but she interrupted him.

“I heard you.”

At that, Zak leaned forward on his desk, his intimidating stance making Lando straighten up, “You better go to her and apologize for what you said. Lando, if she doesn’t come back here tomorrow asking for her seat back, I will personally ensure that your next years with us are pure hell. If you just drove one of the best drivers we have ever seen out because you couldn’t man up enough to tell her you love her and instead created this narrative where you hated her, I will ruin your career. I don’t care what kind of relationship we have built over the time you’ve been with us.”

Charlotte rested her hand on his shoulder, “Where’d you even get the idea that that was why we signed her?”

He shook his head, “Nowhere! I just wanted to hit her where it hurt because that’s what she did to me. I know we didn’t sign her on for that reason and I know the kind of talent she has! I don’t know why I did that! I-” He looked at them helplessly, “I’m sorry.”

“Save it for her,” Charlotte said sternly as she gestured for him to leave.

It didn’t take his body any moment longer to leap from his chair and go into autopilot, speeding to her apartment. There had been a few car crash scares on the way there, but he, ultimately, made it to her place with just a shaken feeling.

His hand wrapped against the wooden door, praying she would answer. The sound of her footsteps sounded from behind the door as the lock clicked and it squeezed open.

“What are you doing here? You got what you wanted. I left McLaren.” She said quietly and it was then that Lando realized how exhausted she was of their ongoing feud.

“Y/n, I never wanted that.” He said softly as he rested against the edge of her door, looking down at her adoringly.

His quiet words seemed to aggravate her as she swung the door open and yelled, “THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT? I WENT QUIET WHEN YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE ANNOYED WITH HOW MUCH I SPOKE OUT, I STOPPED MAKING JOKES WHEN YOU TOLD ME I WASN’T FUNNY, AND I LEFT WHEN YOU TOLD ME I DIDN’T HAVE A REAL PLACE ON THE TEAM. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He couldn’t help the way his heart sunk at the hell he had put her through.

All because he couldn’t be honest with himself.

“I want you.” He whispered, looking in her eyes like it would help her understand.

However, it didn’t and she scoffed, “Oh, so you hated me yesterday, but you want me today? Real mature, Lando. How about you leave me alone, okay? I can’t take your mood swings anymore.”

The door began to close on him, but he stopped it with his hand. Pushing it open and stepping into her apartment, he forced her to hear him, “I never hated you. Never. I know it seemed like it and the things I said to you yesterday were absolutely disgusting. I don’t blame you for being confused about why I’m telling you this now with the way I have treated you over the time we’ve been teammates. But, and just listen to me here, I never hated you. I hated the way you made me feel. I hated the fact that I loved you more than I ever could’ve loved Luisinha, I hated the way you made me want to give up a Grand Prix just so you could win it and feel happy, and I hate the way you’re right there yet I can’t have you.”

Her resolve cracked, he could tell, but she still held her ground, “You think you coming over here and telling me what I’ve been wanting to hear for years will erase what you said to me yesterday?”

His hands came to gently rest over her arms, trying so hard to show her how much she meant to him, “No, I don’t think that. I know what I said to you will always be something you think about, an insecurity that will never go away, and I hate myself for doing that to you. But, I would hate myself more if I let you walk away from F1 and McLaren thinking all you ever were was some ploy.”

She stared at him, clearly dodgy and untrusting of his words, but the look in his eyes, soft and pleading, told her that he had come here with good intentions.

Trying to stop herself from caving in, she looked away, “Okay, you’ve made your point. You can leave now.”

He shook his head, “No.”

Groaning, “Why? You told me what you wanted to and I believe you so what else is there?”

“You haven’t told me that you’re coming back to McLaren.” He said as he pulled her face back to look at him with his fingers.

“Why would I do that? How do I know this thing between us stops here?” She asked hesitantly.

“It won’t,” He began, his words causing her eyebrows to furrow, “It won’t because I still love you. I can’t make up for the things I said to you nor can I take them back, but what I can do is show you that I never meant any of it. If you come back, I’m telling you our hostile relationship won’t be hostile anymore, but I can’t promise I won’t work to get you to love me too.”

Her head fell down, so close to leaning into his chest, as she whispered, “I already do.”

He lightly nudged her head to rest against him as he softly said, “Well, that cuts down my workload by a lot.”

She chuckled, the sound reminding him that he might just be out of the woods, as she looked up at him, “And what if I gave you a chance?”

His smile reached his eyes, “I wouldn’t let you down.”

“Well, then maybe I’ll give you a chance.”

He kissed her forehead lightly before her tone shifted, “Is it true what you said yesterday? Did McLaren only sign me because it helped their image?”

He rapidly shook his head, “No, that was a stupid comment to make. That has never and will never be true. Your skill and talent speaks for itself, Y/n. Do you wonder why I get so defensive when someone talks about our ‘rivalry’? It’s because I know you’re better than me.”

“Don’t do that.” She said.

“Don’t do what?” He asked.

“Lie to me.”

He smiled at her, “Love, you said it yourself yesterday. You’re beating me in the Constructer’s Championship. If you look at our numbers side by side, it’s a fact you’re the better driver.”

Her mischievous smile greeted him, “I know. I just wanted you to say it out loud.”

Scoffing with a loving smile on his face, “Oh, you drive me crazy.”

She returned his smile, the look telling him she was in this with him for a long time, “Enemies to lovers, baby. Enemies to lovers.”

[stoat-party]

Every Fallout 4 Companion’s Approximate Birth Year (Part 3/3)

CVRIE — 2076

I assume Miss Nannies went out of production when the world exploded.

Codsworth — 2077

His box is still in your house during the prologue.

He also mentions enjoying the “months” he’s spent with you, though he might mean since Shaun was born.

Nick — 2175

We know it was over a century ago, but it can’t have been too far prior to the Gen 3 rollout around 2227.

I think Nick is the older brother, because it makes sense to start by creating a synth with stored personalities before trying to make one that develops a personality autonomously.

Longfellow — 2223

This man is only in his SIXTIES, they are LYING TO YOU

The Children of Atom were full-fledged on the Island when Longfellow was young. Confessor Cromwell is the one who sent them to Maine.

But he couldn’t have become Confessor until the mid-2250s, because he’s only FORTY-FOUR in Fallout 3, and he had a background as a trader before that! AND there still had to be time for the Children to travel all the way to Maine.

So Longfellow was born in the twenties, had his sad backstory in the fifties, and is about 65 in Fallout 4.

Strong — 2230

Strong could have been anyone, but I think he was either a divorced dad who would’ve been an accountant in another life, or just Mayor McDonough.

Hancock — 2235

Is 53-year-old Hancock controversial? Let me cook.

There’s support for the theory that synth McDonough was created before the election in 2282. We can assume the human had full gray hair at that point, because synths don’t go gray. So he was probably in his fifties at least.

John was younger, but he can’t have been that much younger. So he was probably ghoulified in his late forties.

Deacon — 2245

If you accept the John D. theory, this does put him a little on the young side, but it fits.

Gage — 2251

There’s not much backstory from his teens up to 2286, and I’m tempted to believe it was a shorter period. But he has late-thirties eyes.

…Eye.

Cait — 2260

Her parents helpfully drew the line at child trafficking, so we have a good idea of her age. She was 18 when she went into slavery and about 23 when she left.

Some time later, she spent about three years at the Combat Zone. Assuming some buffer room between the two periods, I put her at 27 years.

Danse — 2261

He’d have lived in the Institute for awhile, then Rivet City, then the Brotherhood.

He was already a paladin in 2277, but Maxson says it took him “many years” to become one.

Preston — 2262

I don’t know what it is about him that screams 25-year-old to me.

He joined the Minutemen at 17, then had “a few good years” before 2282 when Becker died.

MacCready — 2264

He was twelve in August 2277, and at that point he’d been mayor for three years.

He became mayor at ten. So he’s got to be nearly thirteen at the start of Fallout 3, which would make him 23 in Fallout 4.

Piper — 2166

Nat seems 13 to me. 

If Piper is old enough to have taken care of her as a baby, but not old enough to have significant memories of their mother, 21 sounds about wright.

Curie — 2277

Glory escaped the Institute in 2280, and she and G5 had known each other for some time before that.

Ada — 2281

Jackson seems to have created her reasonably recently.

Dogmeat IV — 2285

I think he is ouppy:)

X6-88 — 2287. 

Yeah, I said it.

This man thinks he’s so evil but he’s an actual baby.

My reasoning is that he wishes he had been there to see the University Point massacre in 2286, but apparently wasn’t.

It makes the game so much funnier.

If he was born earlier in the year, he could have been trained in time for the Kellogg flashback.

Part 1

Part 2