#thank you for wondering though you are so sweet

[bunnys-kisses]

a pair of aces

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, williams driver!reader, (somewhat) rivals, clothes sharing, banter & teasing, canadian!reader, secret relationship, body worship, semi- public sex, getting caught, multiple sex scenes, fingering, tim hortons

a/n: the reader is canadian because i said so... also because my brain is tired and it was easier to maker tim hortons jokes.... congrats reader, you are now canadian!

williams was stronger thanks to the hard work of you and franco. you actually made the likes of ferrari and mclaren nervous. even though you and franco were rivals in a sense, it was s unremarkable that the media turned their attention elsewhere. you were both charming, kind in a way that made people drawn to you. even other drivers, only for you to dominate on the track.

but at the end of it all, you pushed franco and franco pushed you. so it wasn't a surprise that you two were something much more than teammates.

franco would lounging on your hotel bed while you were messing with the attire you had on. it was like your driving suit, but you knew it wouldn't pass any standards or testing. it was a costume of a driver's suit, also it was ugly as all hell.

it was a costume for an advertisement, you go roped into doing it for tim hortons during the canadian grand prix weekend. lance laughed when you told his and was thankful that he didn't have to do another one. so much for canadian solidarity!

franco was behind you, amused as his eyes raked your behind. you usual suit was baggy enough to be comfortable and safe. but in this mockery of one, he got a good look at your round behind. you looked good even in bold red and stark white with a flurry of maple leaves printed onto the fabric. he was happily munching on tim bits you had received when some poor assistant gave you the outfit.

"management will have your head is you keep eating those." you looked over to him, "and can you at least save me a chocolate one?"

franco pulled one from the box and looked at you. he smiled, "last one in the box... i wonder who should have it." he pretended to ponder for a moment before he ate it in one bite. you gave him a ,look and he winked then responded, "that's for last weekend."

you turned around to face him fully and he smiled at you. you rolled your eyes and went over to him. you reached for and touched his face.

"you are a pain in my side, colapinto." then leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he melted a little at your touch. he tasted sweet from the snack.

"only for you." he then pulled you onto the bed and he wrapped his arms around you. the near empty box of tim bits fell onto the floor and your teammate all over you.

you moaned into the kiss and threw your arms around his shoulders. chest to chest as the two of you made out deeply.

"don't cum in your pants, franco. they need to photograph me soon."

he undid the zipper and smiled against your cheek, "i'll get mine later, but for now, you'll get to finish first." and then dipped his hand into the suit towards your panties. he got his fingers under the waistband and sunk the digits into your achy cunt. you groaned and arched your back a little.

"fuck, franco." you hissed, you maintained eye contact with him as he fingered you. you squirmed a little and franco pressed more weight onto you. he kept you comfortable against the mattress.

"anything for my teammate." he trailed kissed down your neck and you could feel your pulse pick up. and he could feel it under his lips. if only he could leave a pretty bruise.

he continued to finger you. his fingers felt amazing stuffed inside your cunt. you felt heightened pleasure as he continue to kiss your neck. his breath hot across your skin, it made you run extremely warm.

the pleasure ran hot through you as he played with your sex. it felt dirty to be so intimate in an outfit made for promotional material. you knew you'd never be able to look at it the same again.

he was good with his fingers and it made everything feel intense by a ten-fold. he was skilled in that way, the ways that made you squirm. it came up your body, the kind of want that made your toes curl as you kept working you. he said lowly, "you drive me crazy, even in an awful outfit like this. i want you."

"after." you panted, "qualifiers aren't until saturday, so we have a lot of time after this. just gotta do the stupid ad first." you shifted under him.

you wished you could show franco you city a lot more than you'll be able to do. all the nooks and crannies that you spent time in growing up. but you could barely see your childhood friends before you were out of town and headed to austria.

he left small licked across your neck in place of the bites he wanted to leave. it was all hot and curled in your gut. you laid on last heavy kiss before you tensed up around his fingers. you came with a heavy moaned that was muffled by the kiss. he let out a small moan and slowed his pace to a stop. he took his fingers out and looked at you with his heat spread across his cheeks. he then licked your wetness off his fingers. you swallowed and felt the heat in your ears.

he pressed his forehead against yours soon after and you smiled at him. he draped an arm around your waist and the two of you kissed deeply before you had to leave for the photoshoot.

-

franco lingered around the set because he had 'nothing better to do', he didn't know montreal intimately. the only person you knew from the area was you and a few of the staff for he team. and he didn't mind support his teammate. after all it was your weekend to shine, and franco didn't mind, in fact he wanted you to shine. you were loved in canada, their future world champion. so of course he didn't mind standing to the side while you looked proud in front of a tim hortons location in the city. you were smiling as if you weren't complaining on the car ride over.

it's not even a canadian company anymore!

franco gave you a thumbs up and then a hi-five when you were close enough. the shoot was wrapped up, you did a good job. and while it was fun, you knew you wanted out of the outfit asap.

quickly you went to the trailer with franco trailing close behind. when the door closed to the place. it turned a few heads, and probably sparked for rumors. but, you wanted out of the shit spandex and into franco's lap.

when you were fully inside with the door closed, he wrapped his arms around you for a moment. he pulled you further against him and kissed you deeply. he then got a hold of the zipper to the outfit and pulled it down. he got it off of your shoulders and you melted, your moans got a tad louder.

"you looked good in this. never could race in it, but you can could make red and white work for you." he kissed the side of your neck which made you shudder..

"we have to be quiet." you groaned as you grabbed your breasts as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your backside. which made your heart leap.

"fuck." he groaned against your skin as you managed to kick your sneakers off. and soon you both ended up on the couch with the jumpsuit on the floor.

you grasped him by the front of the williams branded shirt. you got it off of him and he got the tank top off of you that you wore under the costume. eventually you were stripped nude and you did the same for franco. both of you were naked on the couch and the kisses got hotter. you could feel the simmering heat. sometime franco drove you crazy, both on and off the track.

you could race toe-to-toe then end up in bed together. the heated kissed between you two left your core feeling warm. your body heated up and was needy for pleasure. especially after a hard day.

you had enough time to fuck your rival, teammate and lover. franco colapinto was many things to you.

you got onto his lap and spread your hands across his chest. with a little help, you got his cock out his jeans and then sank yourself onto his length. he hissed between grit teeth and then grasped your hips.

"you look even better nothing on and that costume on the floor. i love seeing every inch of you." his voice was smooth. we was so charming that it made you squirm more often than you'd like to admit. you got the most of his charm due to the forced proximity and the nature of your relationship.

you felt the heavy leap in your stomach as he moved against you. he held onto your hips and you really worked against him. he kept in time with you.

he swallowed back the intense emotion through his body. he didn't want to be too loud. he didn't want to draw attention to the trailer. you two continued to move against one another. you grasped softly against him and felt the waves.

"fuck, franco. who made you so fucking hot? it's not fair. you make everyone else look so ugly in comparison." you said in a low tone that made him shudder with want.

"every way i can have you. i'll take you." he dragged blunt nails down your back which made you tense up. you shifted a little and franco also held onto him tighter.

"don't flatter me, franco." you giggled, "i'm a pain in your side. but you love me." you kissed his lips once more as you two moved against one another. the shudder of want between you two as the couch shifted a little under your movements.

he licked his lips and laughed a little. he held onto you tighter as you rocked against him. your thrusts were heavy and he adored it. he did think a lot about you.

most of the time he was thinking about non-sexual situations. if you were doing, did you eat and if you were taking breaks. he continued to move against you, he groaned through his clenched teeth. he tensed up at the sensation of your cunt around his thick cock. and he felt like a dream.

"i'd let you run me off the track anyway. but not without a fight." he trailed his tongue across your sweet, warm skin. you knew that he'd let you. he would allow you to win, he was soft with you that way. but he wouldn't let you gain victory without a fight! you were still rivals.

he'd give you the world without a second thought. except the wdc. you kissed him deeply on the lips, you combed your fingers through his hair and moaned against his lips. he wrapped his arms around your waist as he moved faster against you.

he got the perfect pace to fuck you with. and it made you hold onto him tightly onto him. he was your everything, you two fit so well together. you knew if the press knew about your secret relationship, you two would be a total power couple. both on and off the track.

you held his face and kissed him on those soft lips, it made you excited. you moaned against him, you both struggled to keep your voices down. your pulse quickened and small praises came from your lips as the pace quickened.

franco felt a heat in his body come to surface. the same heat raced through your system as well. you kissed the top of his head before you really worked yourself onto his length.

"i love you." you gasped, "lucky me. to have you all to myself. you make me my best." you said softly, you went in for another heated kiss, your hip bounced against him. as the raging feeling of climax went through your body.

the clench of your cunt around his length only made him match your pace further. he worked hard to fuck with in the shitty trailer, on the couch. your clothes everywhere.

"i need you." you panted as the climax drew through you. you tensed around him. the pleasure hit you perfectly, you arched your back and then were chest to chest with franco.

you made out once more as he moved, roughly fucked you as he tried to achieve his own climax. he groaned through a tense jaw as he quickly came. he continued to fuck you through orgasms and it wasn't until he finished in you that he slowed down to a stop.

there was little time for an after glow, you two had to be out of the trailer soon. you both went to grab your clothes. you had a change of clothes in your bag for after the photo shoot. you grabbed the first shirt you could find. you knew it was branded with the williams logo.

what you didn't realize was that you had franco's shirt on, and franco had you shirt on. you were wearing franco's last name and he was wearing yours.

you learned something important that day as you headed back to the car. secret relationships couldn't stay a secret forever, especially when you were both public figures.

it didn't help your case that you were kissing somewhere so public. there were multiple photos of you two kissing outside the trailer before you headed to the car.

you learned that secrets came out eventually. and now you were on the front page of the news for reasons other than your victory <3

[ellecdc]

Hey Elle! I was wondering if I could request any of the marauders in the hockey au interacting with a young hockey fan? It could just be little sweet encounter after a hockey game that makes the reader love them even more, y’know? Please pass over this if you’re not comfortable writing this for whatever reason, thank you and I love your work!

hi babes! thanks so much for this really cute prompt; it felt sort of perfect for who I imagine hockey!remus to be in my mind <3

hockey player!Remus Lupin x team medic!reader who sees a young fan [733 words]

CW: quick mention of 'baby fever'

Most hockey players were notoriously bad at press. 

They gave dry responses, they kept their cards close to their chest, they appeared aloof and indifferent, sometimes even impassive. And they hardly ever smiled.

Of course, there were always exceptions to the rules. 

Isak Grönvall, in his thick Swedish accent and what the rest of the team called Swedeisms, always managed to talk circles around fans and the press without ever really touching on the question at all. 

Sirius Black, notorious flirt and tiktok heart throb, could convince any reporter that he’d given them a very good interview with nothing more than a quick wink.

And James Potter had a smile on his face almost always; whether he was throwing punches on the ice, blocking slapshots from the net by means of his body, or waving at fans, that man was always smiling. 

But generally, hockey players were notoriously closed off.

And Remus was no different. 

He never made eye contact with reporters. His responses were quick, dry, and if he could get away with giving a one word response, he would do so. He spoke in generalities only, and was often halfway down the hall before the reporters would actually release him. And when he was on the ice, he was usually all business.

Which is why you were stunned when you stepped up onto the bench during the pregame warm up ahead of that night’s match to find Remus bending at the waist to interact with a young fan and his father through the thick glass. 

The kid had to be no older than four or five, sitting on his fathers lap and was wearing a Lupin 10 jersey, which saw Remus rearing his head back theatrically as if he simply couldn’t believe what he was seeing, grabbing at his shoulder as if he was trying to read the name on the back of his own jersey causing him to skate in circles like a dog chasing his tail. You couldn’t hear the kid from where you were, but you were certain he was squealing in delight. Remus mouthed something dramatically to the dad who nodded at him before Remus was carefully trying to toss his stick over the boards and banging on the glass to ensure that the people who caught it gave it to the kid.

“Nadeau.” You interrupted as he went to skate by, holding out a few pucks and a gold sharpie. “Bring this to Loops, please?” 

Nadeau simply smiled over at the sight before accepting the items from you. “I was starting to think he only ever smiled at you, doc.” 

You ignored the fire roaring beneath the skin on your cheeks as Nadeau skated away, waving at the young fan and showing him the puck before handing it to Remus to sign and throw over the glass. 

Remus posed for a selfie through the glass, flashing a smile that nearly rivalled James’, before waving goodbye and skating over towards the bench. 

“How’s that for baby fever, eh?” Sirius commented casually from where he was stretching on the ice, causing both you and Remus to nearly choke (you on air, he on the swig of gatorade he was in the middle of drinking).

“What?” Sirius asked innocently as he stood, which left you feeling like he was decidedly not innocent in the slightest. “It was a cute kid.”

The two of you found yourselves very busy with watching Sirius skate away instead of making eye contact with one another.

“That was a pretty wide smile you had on your face there, Lupin.” You teased quietly then, eyes still focused on the warm up though you could feel Remus smirk up at you from where he was leaning on his elbows against the boards.

“What? Were you jealous, doc?” He murmured quietly, earning him a derisive scoff in response. 

“Nadeau did suggest you’ve only ever smiled like that for me before.” You countered instead throttling him (or taking him right here on the ice in front of the crowd). 

Remus hummed in acknowledgement as he kept his gaze glued on you, though you stubbornly refused to return it. 

“I was thinking of you…” He admitted quietly. “Perhaps that smile was for you after all.” 

And you watched as he skated towards the centre of the ice to line up for the shot warmup without sparing you a second glance.

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl 💖 Would love a comfort fic with James or poly!Marauders after r had a really bad day? Just cuddles and comforting words. Sure most of us need it right now 💖

Thanks for requesting my love <3 I did try to make this seem like it could just be about any bad day but for my US babes and anyone else that's going to be affected by the election, I really hope you're doing okay and I hope we're all okay over the next few years. Even if we don't all have a James to comfort us, we can still be there for each other <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 607 words

You’re in bed when James finishes brushing his teeth. He can see your shoulders shaking underneath the covers. 

His chest aches as he goes to you. It’s not the first time you’ve cried today and it probably won’t be the last for a while, all your hurt and anger and grief compounding on you as time goes on. James gets into bed and twines his arms around your middle, pressing his nose into your warm cheek. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. 

Your sobs worsen, and you turn, face to his chest and arms reaching around him with an unthinking neediness. You don’t believe him. 

“It is.” He kisses the top of your head firmly, hugging you closer. You seem like you need a bit of solidity right now. “You’ll be alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” 

James lets you cry. Your sniffles grow thick, James’ chest under your face wet with tears and snot. He wonders if your head hurts from how much you’ve wept today, makes a mental note to get you some water in the morning if he can’t manage it tonight. Your whole body shakes with deep, aching sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” you say after a while, words jolting. “I can’t—I keep thinking in circles.” 

“Baby, it’s okay.” James rubs your back. He hates to see you upset, but he wouldn’t begrudge you it. You’ve had a day. As much as he wishes he never had to see you cry, he feels grateful that you’d do it with him. “It’s okay to be sad for a little while.” 

“I know. I know, but—” Another series of sobs jostles their way out of you, painful sounding. Your voice quiets to a tight whisper. “I just can’t stop.” 

James swallows the blockage in his own throat, making big, sweeping circles over your back. “Do you want a little distraction?” he offers. 

You nod into his chest. 

“Okay.” He thinks for a second. “Well, tomorrow, I thought we might go to the bookstore if you’re feeling up to it.” He pauses, waiting to see if this is what you want. When you don’t make a sound he continues. “We could make a day of it. There’s that Thai place you like nearby, so maybe we grab some takeaway, sit and read in the park…” You make a snuffling sound against his chest, and James gives you a squeeze. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is stuffy and sad, but calmer. “That sounds nice.” 

“I glanced at the weather report earlier.” He drops a kiss on your head. It coaxes you into looking up at him. Your eyes are wet and puffy, but James smiles at you, pinching your nose clean gently. “It’s supposed to be nice out. We’ll probably need our coats, but still, not too bad. You could probably break out those new socks you got.” 

You smile wobbily. “It feels like sort of a silly thing to be excited about now,” you say softly, “socks.” 

“That’s what I love about you, though.” James holds your face and gives in to kissing wherever the urge strikes him, your skin warm and tacky. “You’re always finding things to be excited about, that make you happy. I love that. It’s the little things, right?” 

You sniffle. You’re far from happy now, but you’re settling. “I guess.” 

“It’s nice when it’s the big things too, of course,” he concedes, “but for tomorrow I can still get my girl a book and a takeaway. Right? Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You kiss him, salt on both of your lips. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“You’ll be okay,” he promises you again. “I’ve always got you.”

[ssentimentals]

Vernon + soft prompt 22 pls and thanks!🫰💕

hi, honey! thank you so much for requesting 💜 hopefully you'll like it!

soft prompt 'you're so damn beautiful baby. i can't believe you're fucking mine.'

mirror is not always your best friend; most of the times it just reflects back something that makes you want to either smash it into tiny little pieces or cover it. but this time though it's definitely on your side. you twirl again, smiling at your reflection. pretty. you feel pretty. and it's not that big of a deal because you try not to let this all get into your head, but my god, what a relief it is to look in the mirror and like what you see in there.

'baby, are you ready? we have to-' vernon pauses, freezing in the middle of the doorway. his eyes scan your body up and down before his jaw drops. 'holy shit.'

you giggle, twirling again but this time just for him. your boyfriend steps into the room with awe in his eyes, stopping few steps away from you. 'how is it?' you ask, turning to look at him. 'you look wonderful, by the way.'

it's not hard for vernon to look anything shy of handsome; you're pretty sure he can pull off any outfit, no matter how ridicilous it might look. but whenever he goes for more formal attire, that's when your heart has a hard time staying in your chest.

'god, love.' vernon steps in, taking your hands in his, giving you once over again. 'you're so damn beautiful baby. i can't believe you're fucking mine.'

he means it. every single word. you can tell from the way he looks at you like you are the world and he doesn't fully trust himself with handling you well. his touch is reverent and when he hugs you, he envelops you gently into an embrace, all careful. sagging into him, you smile, hiding your blush. 'thank you, babe.'

he places small kiss on your shoulder, leaning back and looking at you with pride. 'i'm so lucky. let's go? can't wait to show you off to everyone.'

'vernon!' you hit his chest playfully, secretly enjoying this kind of attention. he always looks like that at you, but at special occassions he always makes sure to let you know how he appreciates you dressing up. 'stop buttering me up!'

'i'm just stating the truth.' he instantly rejects, frowning. 'and why would i need to butter you up? you already are my girlfriend. that's why i said that i'm lucky.'

vernon is a sweet talker, but what makes it even sweeter is how he's always so painfully honest with everything in a way that makes you blush and leaves your heart a stuttering mess. 'i'm lucky too,' you say, interlacing your fingers as he walks you to the car. and that is also true.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[choccy-milky]

Im here to confess that my brain has a genuine reaction each time I see a drawing of Sebastian with anything black around his wrist. Idk why but I love it when he has a watch or when he’s wearing those black bracelet things

LMAOO SAME ANON...idk why this is, but it just is😩 (i blame rodrick heffley)

@writingsoftarnishedsilver aw THANK YOUU!! im glad you like my art and that you've joined the collective brainrot here on tumblr BAHAH🥰 ik theres been some hubbub lately but the fandom is rly nice and welcoming i promise!!🙏i hope u have a good time here and dont feel intimidated or scared or anything!🥹💖

@kaviary-blog THANK YOU MY SWEETIE DARLING😭💖💖ILL KEEP BEING UR BUDDY AS LONG AS I BREATHE😤u couldnt get rid of me if u wanted to.... but ty again for the positivity and support this was so sweet and i am sending all of that energy back at u!!🫵🫵🫵🫵💖💖💖

@fulminare-within-her-soul aw THANK YOUUU that means so much especially coming from another writer!!🥹💖 AND YES OF COURSE CLORA WOULD LOVE TO AND ID BE HONOURED!!! nobody has to ask permission to draw clora EVER. im fr, yall could seriously draw her doing ANYTHING and id be like... hell yea, thats my girl, look at her😎�� bahaha THANK YOU AGAIN AND YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT/DAY AS WELL💖💖💖

THANK YOU ALL IM GLAD U LIKE MY ART!!🥹😭💖 @dariliondar-blog the program i use is clip studio paint and the brush i use (for lineart) is a clumsy pen from the assets store! ive been using this pen since the very beginning/for all of my lineart, i just love it idk, its easy to control and i like the texture, tho it can be a bit rough/messy. though another lineart pen i started dabbling with recently that i really like is bulky g-pen, i used it for my 9 page comic and really like it!! for colouring though i use different brushes literally EVERY time bc im so inconsistent/indecisive 😭so i cant help you there im sorry BAHAH 🙏

[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!

Chapter 6 - Your Brother | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

Even though things were ‘good’ you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what you and Trent were doing. He was in and out of town so often for football it was hard to know what was happening. So, in the midst of flickering doubts, you had decided you would try to create some self-imposed distance to keep your heart safe. You’d gotten to a place where yes… you were sending nudes, videos of you in bed which in itself maybe wasn’t the smartest but it was happening, you were enjoying it in fact. But enjoyment couldn’t mask apprehension. Still, you were keeping everything just on the phone. Keeping everything hush, not even Layla knew how deep things were getting. And while this digital relationship was blossoming, you were keeping the public one that existed in front of everyone’s eyes at an arm's length. And it hurt to be living what felt like a double life.  You two clearly had no self control and that was evident in the text exchanges so keeping your distance felt smart.  With all of that in mind, you hadn’t expected to see Trent at your door this afternoon, let alone embracing you in a cuddle so warm it felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages when it’d been mere days. You stiffened at first, taken by surprise, but quickly melted into him. As much as you tried to pretend you shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this with him, you yearned for this very thing; the physical connection you were trying so hard to keep at bay. You tried to believe that space was the best thing to do to keep yourself safe but the second his arms wrapped around you… the world melted along with you. Memories of him flooding you. It was like he had your heart before you couldn’t even try to stop him from grabbing it. You were powerless and you loved being weak for him. 

“You’re back home.” Your voice was muffled against his skin in the embrace of the hug. He hummed, squeezing you that much tighter. Just as you began to pull back, his grin widened cheekily. 

“Can you wait here f’me? I got something for you.” Before you could respond, He smiled as he darted back out to his car, leaving you standing there, curiosity building, warmth flooding you. When he returned, he was holding a stunning bouquet, petals in shades of blush and deep red. 

“I don’t play footie in the park anymore so I thought you deserve more than a daisy.” He smiled earnestly with a glint in his eyes that almost looked scared. Trent was still grappling with how to show you just how much he cared. He was worried about Jack, sure, but keeping things hush didn’t feel so bad at the minute as long as he showed you he cared. He was looking for that sweet spot of past and present. And so began another attempt. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed as you took the flowers, turning them in your hands, admiring every detail. But Trent wasn’t done. “Pretty girl…” He cooed gently to grab you attention off the floral arrangement and back to him. He smirked holding two more bags. You raised your brow with a smile you couldn’t contain anymore. He handed you a sleek Dior shopping bag, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You know like… I was in just France for the game and… well, I saw this, and I just thought of you.” He stumbled through words with a smile. You turned and placed the flowers and the bag on a console in the foyer of the house unboxing it all. Inside was a mini red Dior lady dior, classic, chic, and unmistakably something you loved on sight. Yes, this was very much so a perk of present day Trent. 

“Trent, I—” You looked up at him, stunned, your heart racing. But before you could finish, he interrupted with a cheeky smirk.

“One more thing… because well, in my opinion it matches and…”  As you took the next bag he was pushing towards you and began to open the other, you smirked with a furrowed brow. It wasn't any more designer, instead something priceless. You pulled out a familiar red top you had just seen Trent wearing on the telly during his match days ago. You smiled seeing a Liverpool Alexander-Arnold jersey. One of his own. “If you ever want to wear one,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’d prefer it if it was mine. Because you know… you’re kind of mine.” The words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You ran your fingers over the bold name and number on the back, biting back a giddy smile. 

“This is… wow, are you sure, baby, It’s a pretty big statement.” you teased, glancing up at him. He stepped closer, his eyes serious, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean it.  You’re… You’re so important to me, Y/N.” That moment felt like a declaration all on its own, leaving you feeling lighter and less uncertain, ready to see where this might possibly go.  That maybe it wasn’t all just for behind closed doors. The gift in your hands felt weighty, more than just fabric or leather—it felt like a quiet promise. “I always liked when you were at the park watching me play growing up, and I really like it when you’re at Anfield now watching me.” His words stuck you deep. Maybe he wasn’t just making it all up about having a crush on your growing up in the park. The way Trent looked at you, the softness in his eyes and the little, lingering smile on his lips, spoke volumes. You glanced down at the jersey again, fingertips tracing over the double barreled last name. This wasn’t just a shirt; it was a claim, a gesture that felt almost absurdly personal. He watched you closely, gauging every shift in your expression. His usual confident demeanor softened, almost vulnerable, as he waited for you to say something more. But words felt clumsy in that moment, so you took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. Trent hugged you back, his hands gentle against your back, pulling you in like he was afraid to let go.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you finally whispered into his shoulder, feeling both overwhelmed and elated. You pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “This is… it’s really thoughtful, T, baby.” He gave a little shrug, downplaying the significance. 

“Think about you a lot. I wish I could show you better. This is one way I guess.  And I just thought you’d look better in one mine, yeah?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed him. You could see the warmth, the intent behind this small collection of gifts. Grinning, you took the jersey holding it up between you. 

“So… I’m supposed to just wear this and be yours, huh?” You said with a smirk. His grin turned into a smirk. 

“That’s the idea,” he said, stepping in close, his hands finding your waist. “But only if you’re up for it.” You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t break his gaze. His fingers began to play with the hem of the shirt you currently had on. You didn’t expect your heart to stutter the way it did seeing him today. You looked down, biting your lip, feeling almost shy under his gaze. 

“And you’re sure?” you murmured, looking back up at him. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, letting his fingers linger just a little longer against your skin. 

“I’ve known you too long not to be.” His voice was low, and there was a sincerity there that felt like a balm to every worry you’d been carrying. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, soft but intentional, letting yourself believe him. Trent’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, like he was anchoring himself to you. The kiss deepened, and you both sank into it, unhurried, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.  You finally pulled back from the kiss to really look at the jersey still in your hands. It wasn’t from a store it was very clearly one of his. He even had drawn a little heart, in only a way a boy would, but nevertheless cute, on the bottom of the white embossed  #66. The whole thing was incredibly sweet. 

“Guess I know what I’m wearing to the next match I go to. Someone just has to invite me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“You’re always invited but yeah, you better be wearing that,” he chuckled, his eyes shining. “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna look perfect on you as well.” And with that, you felt some of your doubts fade, replaced by the excitement of whatever was waiting ahead and right now what was waiting was  thick sexual tension creeping in. As you held the soft fabric of the jersey, Trent's eyes sparkled with mischief. He stepped back into you once more, his muscular body radiating heat, planting a soft kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning your sensitive skin as he gently nibbled, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Swiftly a moment that was meant to be sentimental, suddenly began to steam up. 

"Do you want me to try it on for you, baby?" you suggested, your voice a little hoarse with desire. Trent hummed in response, his lips still brushing against your skin as his fingers idley returned to play with the hem of your shirt. With a swift motion, he lifted the shirt you were already wearing over your head entirely exposing your bare torso, no bra. Your breath caught at the sudden rush of cool air on your heated skin. Trent's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your full tits, your nipples already hardening in anticipation.

"You look so fucking gorgeous all the fucking time, baby" he growled, his voice thick with want. His hands glided over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then slid down to cup your tits. He thumbed your nipples, rolling and pinching gently, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"I need you, T… now," you murmured before his lips found yours in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and filled with passion. Different than before. Trent's tongue danced with yours, exploring and claiming, while his hands roamed freely over your body, mapping every curve and valley. He kneaded your boobs, squeezing and lifting them, making you moan into his mouth. You clung to him, running your fingers over his curls, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one. His erection pressing against your lower belly, a hard ridge that promised pleasure and satisfaction you’d come to know well but couldn’t get enough of. His hands moved to slide around you down to your ass, over it and then under. Breaking the kiss, Trent lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you upstairs, making sure to grab both of your tops in his hand, sparing any damning evidence. His strong arms never faltering as you giggled breathlessly nibbling on his ear lobe whispering the naughtiest things in his ear despite feeling like an innocent princess in his hold. And then like a shot gun signaling a start, your bedroom door clicked shut behind you. 

Trent laid you down on your soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. In a blur of passion, you found yourself on your bed, both of your clothes completely vanished now, your legs wrapped around Trent's strong waist again. He hovered above you, his body a delicious weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. His eyes, dark and intense, holding yours captive, and you knew in that moment it truly felt like you were his. The dominant glint in his eyes sent a thrill through your body, making you ache to surrender completely.

“Tell me what you want.” He cooed almost tauntingly.  Trent's voice was a low rumble, filled with desire and possession as he whispered above you leaning in to begin leaving kisses from behind your ear down your jaw. You didn’t answer you just nodded eagerly, giving him permission, your eyes pleading for him to take control. And he did. He pressed his lips to yours as his fingers trailed down your body, tracing your curves, before slipping between your thighs and  through your pussy’s wet folds.  “Such a messy girl. You're so always so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. You were already soaked, your arousal glistening on your sensitive folds. Trent's touch was like a lightning bolt, igniting a fire within you. “Tell me what you want.” He demanded again and it started a fire in you, igniting something carnal. You whined and when he teased his fingers around your clit. 

"You, T, fuck… I want you," you whimpered as he stroked your clit, his touch feather-light but intensely pleasurable. His fingers dipped lower, finding your entrance and pushing inside, filling you with a delicious stretch. You gasped as you felt him slip two fingers all the way inside of you with a curl. He smirked watching your face scrunch up from the intrusion. You arched off your bed, seeking more, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. "Please, baby" you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me. I want your cock, T." He grinned down at you, his eyes alight with possessiveness.  “I want you to be rough, T.” You whined desperate for him to just use you. 

"You want me to be rough with you? You like that don't you, baby?" He mocked in the hottest way. You reached out towards him, dragging your hand down his abs before wrapping your hand around his hard shaft. You pumped his cock with your spit mixed with his leaking precum,l. He pulled his fingers out of you swiftly. His one hand laced his fingers with yours pinning your hands above your head, the other tapping his cock against your clit, dragging it through your fold’s teasingly.  Neither of you had the patience for more foreplay. You needed him inside of you now and he was giving you just that.  His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. “You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, hmm?” His words send a thrill through you, a heady combination of desire and submission. You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on his.

"Yeah" you whispered. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving to grip your hip firmly. You felt the broad head of his cock nudging at your entrance before he thrusted forward, filling you in one smooth stroke."Oh, God!" you cried out, your body welcoming him with a delicious tightness. Your hands broke out of his and grabbed to hold him. Your nails digging into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew immediately. 

“Doing so good f’me, baby. Take my cock so well. You okay?” He asked gently as he flicked his eyes to yours. You nodded with a shy smile as he pulled back out just barely, leaving just the tip in. With a growl, he thrusted into you again, filling you so completely that you gasped once over. His cock, hard and throbbing, stretching you to the limit, and you loved every second of it. The sensation of being so full, so possessed, sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes. Your bodies creating a sensual rhythm, the squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Trent's jaw clenched, his eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear into your slick heat.

"You feel so fucking good," you moaned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Feel so deep. Oh my god." You whined. You inhaled a sharp breath feeling a lightheadedness come over as you took him.  He kept his beautiful brown eyes fixed on you. The pupils in his dark eyes dilated as he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing you whine. You were completely his and he reveled in it. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was so gentle yet harsh at the same time. Trent’s hand slid up your body and wrapped around your neck gently but assertively causing the knot in your core to tighten as you moaned more.   

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with need. 

"Yours, Trent," you whispered, your voice breathless. "Only yours." He quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, driving into you relentlessly. Your tits, full and heavy, bounced with each movement, the sensitive peaks grazing his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. He let go of your neck and leaned back a little. Trent's hands moving to grip your thighs, holding your legs wide open, exposing you completely to his gaze and touch. 

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet, baby," he growled, his eyes fixed on the junction where his cock disappeared into your body. "So good f’me." He praised you as you moaned, the explicit words and the sight of him pounding into your body pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands moved off him to clutch at the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you tried to anchor yourself against the force of his thrusts. The room continued to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your desperate moans, and Trent's dirty words. Trent could feel your pussy clenching tighter, he knew you were close. 

"Tell me, baby, whose cock are you gonna cum on right now?" Trent's voice was rough but smug, his face a mask of pure desire and self satisfaction.

"Yours, T," you panted, your voice thick with pleasure. “I want to cum on your cock." Your eyes rolling back as you felt the climax building. "I'll only ever cum on your cock, T." Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His eyes lit with possession. His hips pistoned faster, his cock pounding into your sensitive flesh. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, his cock feeling harder inside of you, and the knowledge that he was close to his own release sent you spiraling towards your climax. The words you’d just said had tumbled out. And to be honest, you kind of hoped your commitment was true. You only ever wanted his dick… it was that good. You wrapped your legs stayed around his waist, drawing him even deeper, your hands moving to clutch at his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his tanned skin. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading, possessing. His hips never stoping their relentless motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's right, you're my good girl. Only cum f’me. Only gonna ever wear my jersey too, yeah?" he grunted the question, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded as the coil in your stomach tightened. Orgasmic bliss barrelling towards you."Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock." His words were like a match to the kindling of your desire. His words pushed you over the precipice. Your body tensed every nerve ending singing as you soared into your climax. Trent's fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you into your climax, his own release building. And then in a split second just when the outside world couldn’t have seemed further away you heard the tracks of the garage door begin to open.

 "T!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. The distant rumble of Jack returning home made your heart stop but you couldn’t stop your body’s orgasmic convulsions though. Your climax exploded through your body, rippling waves of pleasure that caused your back to arch and your pussy to clamp down on Trent’s cock. You cried out, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise and panic, as your release washed over you, the waves of pleasure so intense they left you trembling. Trent's name was a mantra on your lips you were trying to bite back as you rode the waves of ecstasy but it was all mixed with genuine fear. “T… T.. fuck!” You yelped,  your hands moving to press against his chest to push him off. He didn’t hear the garage, he was locked in. You knew he was about to cum. “Trent!” You yelped just as his body tensed above you. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a guttural grunt, his hips making one final, powerful thrust as he filled you with his release. “Jack! Trent!” You told him. Trent had never had a more conflicting climax in his life. Panic, euphoria, and disgust hearing his mates name while he finished all at once. Trent's eyes widened, and he froze, his cock still buried deep within you. His release leaking inside you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own. The sensation of his hot cum inside you sent you over the edge again, a second orgasm washing over you, leaving you boneless and sated, Trent fighting back a groan as you tightened around him once more. Panting, your bodies glistening with sweat, you clung to each other, hearts racing but you needed to move. Now. The sudden realization that you were both naked and exposed snapped you back to the present. Anxiety flared in your chest as you scrambled to get Trent off you and find your clothes, your heart pounding. This was it. Jack was going to find out. 

"Shit," Trent cursed, quickly reaching for his boxers. "Your brother... we need to get downstairs." He instructed you. The urgency in his voice mirrored your own racing thoughts. You frantically searched for your clothes, scattered across the room. In a mad dash, you pulled on your panties and scrambled to find everything, while Trent hastily pulled on his trousers. The heat of the moment had turned into a frantic race against time. The sound of Jack’s arrival sent you both into a scramble, grabbing at clothes, fumbling with buttons, zipper, shirts pulled over heads, doing whatever you could to look convincingly casual. 

“Fuck, fuck!” you yelled in a whisper,  heart pounding as you clutched the sides of your shirt, tugging it over your head, trying to compose yourself. You shot Trent a panicked look.  Tears forming on your lash line. 

“Baby… Baby… we’ll be okay. You’re okay. C’mon.” He kissed your forehead before helping adjust your top. The slam of the door into the house had sent you and Trent into an even more panicked frenzy as you scrambled to not look like you just fucked. 

“My car,” Trent hissed almost to himself, eyes wide, realizing that leaving his car in the driveway was like leaving a neon sign that he was there.

“He’s going to see it…” You glanced at him, panicked. There was no hiding now. With your pulse racing, you tried to look as normal as possible, grabbing the closest thing you could find to play off a casual visit—a charger tangled near your bed. The two of you locked eyes, a silent agreement that this was your cover story.  You nodded back before you ran down the stairs just as Jack came through the other side of the house. Thank god the staircase up to your room was at the opposite end. You could hear Jack’s footsteps making his way towards you two as you made it downstairs. When he saw you and Trent his eyebrows raised, but he was relaxed enough. 

“Aye, mate, what’s up?” he asked, looking from Trent to you and back again. Jack looked at Trent with a faintly furrowed brow. Trent plastered on a relaxed smile, putting on his most casual tone.

“Yeah, good bro. Sorry, ah…left my phone charger here last time,” he replied smoothly, nodding toward the one you were now holding out like a lifeline. You forced a smile, trying to seem casual. Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a second, his expression skeptical. 

“So…” Jack’s tone held a playful curiosity. “You knew I wasn’t home?” Trent shrugged. 

“Yeah, bro, only a charger so I didn’t want to nag you about it,” he said, as you casually waving the charger like it was some grand prize he’d finally retrieve. “Y/N was just letting me grab it real quick.” You handed Trent the charger, feeling Jack’s gaze on both of you. Trent took it with a casual ‘Thanks,’ stuffing it into his pocket as if it had been his all along. You were mildly annoyed you were losing a charger but that was the least of your worries “Just thought I’d pop in, grab it, and head out.” Jack stared for a moment longer, lips curving into a smirk as he finally dropped his gaze. 

“Right… sound.” he chuckled.  Trent laughed, playing along, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to mask your own nerves. Jack looked between you both, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read but it was more confusion at the energy in the room than a hint of suspicion. But he just laughed, shrugging it off as Trent left. Trent still managed to give you a tiny, playful wink before slipping out, leaving your mind reeling.

“He’s so weird.” Jack teased you, still watching Trent get in his car. “Man makes millions and he’s pressed about a charger.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to play it cool. You felt Jack’s arm wrap around your shoulder in a lighthearted squeeze, and he shot you a teasing grin.

“Nah, he’s just… Trent… mindful, maybe?” you managed, trying to fill the silence and maybe convince both Jack and yourself. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Your heart was still racing but at least Trent had remained calm. 

“Yeah, well, you were probably just gassed you got his attention alone for five minutes.” He laughed, punching at your arm as he passed you. You forced yourself to chuckle, hoping the nervous energy vibrating through you wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Jack’s teasing had hit closer to home than he knew, and as you watched Trent’s car pull away from the driveway, you felt a mix of thrill and relief. The cover story might’ve worked, but the spark between you two? That was only getting harder to hide.

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to sound nonchalant as you looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You laughed, a little too loudly, hoping it came off as amused and not as a frantic release of tension.  Jack gave a little shrug, seemingly satisfied. 

“Just saying, you love Trenty.” He laughed teasingly but you didn’t. Not this time. “Y/N… I’m kidding. I know he’s your mate too. Relax. He came for a charger, innit. I’m joking. Sorry.” He looked at you apologetically, mildly confused why a tease about you have a crush on Trent hit so differently than before. He always poked fun but your vibe felt weird. He opted to just  let it roll off his back, moving on and turned, remaining oblivious as he headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile you were left with a stomach full of butterflies, lined with guilt  and a heart still pounding from the close call. Watching Trent drive away, you felt an undeniable thrill mixed with something deeper, something that had you feeling torn between excitement and culpability. The cover story had worked for now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping this secret would only get harder with time.

Sneaking around with Trent had quickly transformed into something more, something you felt deep in your bones. The thrill was undeniable, yet the way you kept finding yourself drawn back to him made it feel like it wasn't just about the thrill anymore. After Jack almost catching you, it just felt like you both actually thought what you were doing might’ve been worth it. Tonight felt like a step closer to something real, though the secrecy only intensified it. You'd told Jack you'd be staying over at Layla's, a lie that sat heavy, but the promise of a night with Trent made it worth it. When you arrived at his place, Trent's smile greeted you at the door, warm and familiar, and immediately, you felt all that tension melt away. He led you out to the back garden, where he had set up a cozy space just for the two of you. Blankets were draped over the outdoor couch on the patio, and the fire pit cast a gentle, golden glow. Jazz murmured softly from a speaker, blending perfectly with the low hum of the night, creating a sense of comfort that felt more intimate than you'd expected. The whole setup seemed to say: I wanted this to feel special. You nestled into the couch beside him, sharing the same blanket as the fire flickered, warming your faces. Trent leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other hand resting on your knee, and you felt yourself relaxing against him as if this was exactly where you belonged.

Although, it wasn't long though before he suggested a game of cards, his competitive spirit sparking in his eyes. You moved to sit cross-legged on the couch, turning to face him as you dealt the cards. Trent sat back, legs spread, confidence written across his face. But as the game went on and the tide turned in your favor, his expression shifted. He huffed when you won a hand, mumbling something about beginner's luck, but you could tell he was getting flustered. When you won again, his pout turned into a grin full of mischief.

"Nah, not having this. C'mon, there's no way you're this lucky," he teased, snatching the cards from your hand before pulling you into his lap, his hands snaking around your waist.

"Maybe I'm just better at it than you," you quipped, knowing it would get under his skin. He narrowed his eyes, pretending to look insulted but deep down you knew he hated hearing it, joke or not.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" he murmured before leaning in, his teeth grazing your neck in a playful nibble, a cross between a kiss and bite as his hands gripped you tighter. You squirmed, laughing, trying to wriggle free, but he was stronger than you and wouldn't let you go.

"Just admit I won," you teased, breathless from laughing, glancing up at him with a triumphant smile.

"Not a chance," he whispered, voice low as his face hovered inches from yours, his eyes full of that look that made your pulse race. "The game's postponed. We'll settle it later." He said deciding he just wanted to be with you for the moment, no games. He let his hold on you loosen, and you rolled your eyes with a grin. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, your voice warm and teasing. He stilled, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if hearing you calling him ‘baby’ for the first time. Colloquially. The look in his eyes made your stomach flip, a moment of quiet that felt far more intimate than any kiss or touch. With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled you in closer, one hand tracing down your back.

"I like the sound of that." His fingers gently pressed into your skin, grounding you in that moment, and his other hand reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stayed wrapped up together, letting the night carry you in the warmth of each other's presence. Hours passed without notice, the jazz lulling softly in the background as you nestled closer, feeling his hand rest securely around you. His touch was soft, comforting, as if to say he wasn't in any rush to let go. The stars were bright overhead, and the crackling flames cast shadows over his face. Trent looked at you with a rare openness, a softness that made your chest ache in the best way. He pressed a kiss to your hair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on you. You rested your head against his shoulder, your legs curled over his lap, feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Every so often, he'd lean down, brushing his lips against your temple or whispering something sweet that made your heart stutter. It felt like you were existing in your own little world, a pocket of warmth and comfort that was just for the two of you. The night stretched on, but neither of you felt any rush to move or break the spell. This wasn't just a thrill, or a secret-you could feel the weight of something genuine growing between you, something you were both beginning to understand couldn't be hidden forever.

Settling into Trent’s bed that night felt surreal—soft sheets, plush pillows, and the faint scent of him in the air made it feel luxurious, almost like a dream. Yet, there was that small tug of something missing, a sense of feeling a bit out of place amidst the perfection. You liked your routine, your things, that’s all. This was well,  it was his bed, his room, his world. You didn’t quite realize how it showed until Trent, lying beside you with a gentle smile, noticed it.

“I can tell you’re uncomfortable. What’s up?” he asked, his gaze soft but curious. You shook your head with a half-hearted laugh, trying to dismiss it. 

“I’m not uncomfortable… I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words. But he shook his head, unconvinced. 

“Nah, baby, c’mon,” he coaxed, “alright. Tell me what you usually do before bed.” He rolled over and looked at you with a smile. At that, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Okay, so,” you started, tucking your hair behind your ear as you settled into explaining shuffling in the sheets.. “First thing’s first: I have to take off all my makeup. But that means using an oil cleanser first because it breaks everything down— mascara, everything. Then I use a second cleanser to really clean my skin. It’s called double cleansing.” You giggled as Trent nodded with a raised eyebrow, trying not to smile. 

“Double cleansing?” he echoed. “More than once seems like….” You widened your eyes silently asking to finish and continued on. 

“Trust me, it makes a difference because some of us don’t just wake up moisturize and go.” You teased and he rolled his eyes swiping his thumb over his cheekbone as if to show off his perfect skin. “But then I have to pat my face dry with specific towels or like disposable ones, you know? Like I can’t just be rubbing whatever to dry.” He leaned back, clearly amused but listening intently. You were pretty sure he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. 

“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Then it’s skincare time,” you declared. “I use a toner first.” Trent nodded but you knew he probably didn’t know what that meant. “After that, I have a few serums. Then… ” You cooed but Trent interjected. 

“A few!?” Trent’s eyes widened slightly. It was becoming evidently more and more clear he did not have a sister. A part of you laughed that you never realized how deep that fact ran and then a part of you felt a bit relieved this was the first time he seemed to be hearing this. The idea that any girl that had come before you had yet to explain this to him. 

“Yeah then we move to like eye creams, moisturizers next,” you explained and continued to rattle on with more. He looked impressed and bewildered at the same time. 

“That’s… a lot,” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice that made you smile.

“And we’re not even done!” you pointed out. “After the skincare, I do my hair care. Apply some products for hydration. Oh and silk pillowcases are a must for both skin and hair. They’re gentler and prevent breakage.” Trent’s eyes sparkled with humor, but he nodded as if taking mental notes. 

“Alright, so we’ve got skin and hair. Anything else?” He smirked almost assuming you were done. 

“Obviously,” you said, feigning indignation. “Then I have to set up my room. I spray a lavender sleep mist onto my bed to help me relax, and I take my nighttime supplements—magnesium, a sleep aid if I need it, maybe some collagen.” You explained.

“Supplements too?” he repeated, clearly finding all of this fascinating. He had routines but it was more for optimizing performance and in a way you were doing just the same.

“Yep. And then I need like wattterrrs,” you explained dragging out the word, feeling more animated as you talked. “And sometimes, if I’m feeling really stressed, I’ll do a short guided meditation before bed. Just five to ten minutes to clear my mind.” Trent was leaning forward now, his chin resting in his hands grinning ear to ear. Trent started laughing, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“That’s like 15 steps, baby!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as if you’d told him the most extravagant bedtime routine on earth and maybe you had in his mind. You laughed along, shrugging. 

“Hey, you asked! Besides, don’t pretend you’re not just as high maintenance with all your Byredo lotions over there.” You smirked, nodding toward the sleek row of bottles lined on the counter in the ensuite. He rolled his eyes, giving a mock scoff. 

“Alright, alright… but that’s… that’s quite the process,” he said, his voice laced with teasing affection. “You really do all that every night?” You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended. 

“I mean I try to every single night! It’s called self-care, T. There’s more out there than just what the club tells you to do. You should try my routine sometime.”  You giggled teasing him. You knew he took really good care of himself but when it came to beauty he was more relaxed. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

“I don’t think I could handle all of that.” He smirked.  You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the compliment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Even if he didn’t fully understand each step, he was there, listening and appreciating the lengths you went to for your own well-being. And that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to explain. Still smiling, he grabbed his phone, opening his notes app. “Okay, baby… give me the names and brands. Everything you need for sleeping here.” Your heart fluttered at the gesture, so thoughtful and unexpected. You began listing each product, and he typed them with an almost serious focus, nodding as if he were taking notes on a game plan; Slip pillow cases, Tata Harper cleansers, Maison Francis mists, a 14th Night Hair Elixir. 

“You don’t actually have to do all this,” you murmured, feeling almost shy. But his hand found yours, and he squeezed it gently.

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” he said softly, looking at you with that easy, open sincerity. “Besides, if it’s gonna make you sleep better, then it’s worth it. Keeps you in my bed.” He cheekily cooed. The thoughtfulness left you feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude, a sense of belonging that surprised you. And as much as you adored the idea of your favorite products sitting in his bathroom, what you loved even more was this—him, making space for you in his world, in his home. It also felt nice to know it’d be like a warning should any other girl be over. This was your marking your territory.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Honestly, though… all I really need to feel at home is you.” He smiled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you. 

“You’ve always felt like home to me.” He whispered back to you. Both of your admissions honest. The room was calm, the dim light casting soft shadows, and Trent’s fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm as you both settled into the cozy rhythm of conversation. The hum of street lights outside mixed with the soft rustling of sheets, making the entire moment feel even more intimate. Even after Trent finished noting down your list, he looked over with a smirk, still visibly amused by the whole process.  “So, am I missing anything? Or do we need to add a couple more things for this routine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just habitual; it’s so I can look pretty.” You batted your eyes at him. He laughed, tipping his head back, the sound warm and rich. 

“Well… you always look beautiful. Don’t think you need all this but, consider me converted if it makes you happy,” he said, miming a solemn vow. “But seriously, I’ll get it, alright? It’s not just about making you feel at home—it’s about you being at home here, whenever you want.” The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like for this to be your regular night: no need to pack an overnight bag, no sneaking in and out, just… this, every night. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, the weight of his arm draped protectively around you making everything feel somehow complete. He noticed the pensive look on your face and tilted his head, studying you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s just… weird, you know? I didn’t expect it to feel this comfortable here.” You hesitated, then smiled softly. “I thought it would feel… wrong.” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, pulling you even closer. It was wrong. It was wrong what you were doing to Jack, but this? This felt very right. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I also knew it’d be good. You and I have always been good. I want it to feel easy. Want you to feel like you don’t have to hide anything when we’re here or feel out of place here.” His voice was low, soothing, and he spoke as if he were letting you in on some quiet, long-held secret. He reached over, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering as he looked into your eyes with that calm, unwavering gaze of his. “I know we’re figuring things out, and it might be complicated but it doesn’t have to be here. We’re good here,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, heart beating a little faster. 

“You really mean that?” you whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice steady. “I think we’re pretty damn good together.” He smirked. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, a warmth passing between you that felt equal parts thrilling and comforting. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smiled, nestling closer to him.

“Okay,” you murmured, settling fully into the pillow beside him, letting his steady breathing and the soft glow of his gaze ground you. The weight of his arm around you felt like an anchor, keeping you steady even as your mind whirled with thoughts of what this meant, of what you meant to him. He pulled you even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“So… really, pretty girl, any final steps in this ritual of yours? Any last ones?” he teased, breaking the quiet moment with a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, laughing. 

“Alright, alright, since you’re so curious… And I’m generous, I guess I could share the one I never even leave home without.” You reached over, awkwardly leaning to grab your lip balm you’d already moved to the nightstand earlier to have on hand. It was a lip balm you brought with you everywhere, so tonight was no different. It was a rich Hermes lip balm. Nothing made your lips feel more well-hydrated, supple or better than this. You applied a layer to your own lips before leaning in, catching him with a soft kiss that tasted faintly of beeswax.

“There, now you’re officially a part of my routine,” you said, grinning. He shook his head, still chuckling, his fingers tracing along your jaw as he pulled you in for another kiss. 

“If this is how the routine ends, I’m in.” And in that moment, with the warmth of his arms around you, the soft glow of the lights outside, and the quiet thrill of realizing just how natural this all felt, you let yourself settle fully into the moment. Trent leaned over you and grabbed the sleek tube again. “You think the lads would take the mick if I rolled around using Hermes lip balm? Because this actually feels so good.” He asked you earnestly. You smirked knowing the answer would likely be yes but you just hummed. 

“Does it? Or was it my kiss?” You teased. “Nah, you could use it though. If you’d want you can take this one. I’ll get another one.” You cooed, pressing your lips to his again. Trent nodded agreeing. And he did. You let him take it the next day. But that night you fell to sleep happy, lips moisturized, and all the worries and doubts fading into the background, leaving just you and him, here together, finding home in each other.

As you bounded down the stairs, practically buzzing with excitement, you were already mentally at Trent’s, imagining the quiet moments you’d get to have again, just the two of you for another night. You’d been doing this a lot. Hiding it all from everyone but reveling in the time tucked together. Your heart raced as you went through the plan in your head—another night wrapped up in his arms, laughing, teasing, letting everything else fall away. But Jack’s voice cut through your daydreams, grounding you in an instant.

“Hey, you headed out? Who’s the lucky lad now?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes studying you closely. Your heart skipped, a blend of panic and guilt washing over you. You were sure he’d started to suspect something, especially with all the time you’d been spending away. Swallowing hard, you tried for a casual response. You didn’t think he’d even be considering Trent, but it was clear you were spending a lot of time ‘out’ with someone. No matter, lying to Jack… Jack, your big brother, your best friend; though you’d never tell Layla that, it all felt so wrong. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know? Not yet,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he’d leave it at that. But Jack wasn’t one to let things slide easily. He just hummed, giving you a long, knowing look. Then, with a gentleness that caught you off guard, he spoke again. 

“Hey…” he started, and you could hear the tenderness in his voice. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” He sympathetically smiled. 

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, surprised

“I mean, there’s a light in you that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s good to see it again.” His eyes softened, a mix of pride and love filling his gaze. “I don’t know what this lad’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the best in you. Look happier. Healthier.” A rush of emotion swelled in your chest, catching you off guard. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them, and you looked away, trying to compose yourself. Jack noticed, stepping forward and wrapping you in one of those big, protective hugs he was so good at. You felt the familiar strength of his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you close. “I just want you happy,” he murmured into your hair, and the raw honesty in his voice almost broke you. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told Mum and Dad I’d look out for you, you know?” His voice was low, laced with the memories and promises you both had carried for years. You felt horrible. You were lying. Why were you lying? “I know I can be a pain sometimes, but… I don’t want you being with anyone that treats you like…” Jack tried to say it but he couldn’t. Jack was protective, loving but as communicative and close as you two were he just couldn’t stomach the idea of men treating you poorly so he couldn’t get the words out. “You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, that’s all.” Jack was the only place you felt safe since your mum passed. Your dad closed off and Jack stepped up. You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you. There were times when a hug from Jack felt like it held everything you missed, everything you longed for—comfort, security, family. It was a rare, grounding feeling, and one that made you ache with a strange blend of gratitude and sadness. Pulling back just enough to look at you, Jack brushed his hand over your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Maybe we go to Sefton Park sometime soon?” he suggested. “Just us, like old times. Feels like we’re missing each other lately. Never see you.” He smiled softly and it made your heart ache. The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you managed a nod, blinking back the tears that had filled your eyes. You felt his arm tighten around you for a second, and he chuckled softly. “And… maybe one day you can introduce me to this fella. He seems alright, if he’s making you this happy.” His words hit harder than you expected, the guilt flaring up in your chest as you forced a smile. 

“Yeah… maybe.” You sheepishly told him feeling nauseous at the idea that Jack knew this ‘fella’ better than he probably ever wanted to.  Jack gave you a gentle squeeze, reaching to teasingly pull on the ends of your hair like he used to when you were kids. 

“Alright, go on then. Don’t keep him waiting. Don’t fuck it up now.” He winked, letting you go, but the warmth in his eyes stayed with you. As you walked to the door, your heart hurt, the weight of your secret feeling heavier with each step. The excitement of seeing Trent was still there, humming in the back of your mind, but Jack’s words lingered. You felt torn, a part of you wanting to spill everything to your brother, to let him see the whole truth. But as you got outside, you forced yourself to push it all away. For now, you just wanted to hold onto the happiness Jack had seen in you. You wanted to be with Trent, to laugh, to feel that lightness and warmth without the shadow of guilt hanging over you. And even if it was only for a night, you let yourself believe that was enough.

When morning rolled in, you were tucked into the sheets, the soft weight of the comforter keeping you warm as you dozed off, half-conscious of Trent beside you. The light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating the room in a golden haze, and you felt a deep contentment, drifting in that hazy, relaxed state between sleep and wakefulness. But then you felt the bed shift as Trent sat up more. You looked around Trent’s room, feeling oddly out of place though, despite how many times you had now woken up tangled in his sheets, wrapped up in the ease and warmth he offered. Today, though, it felt different. Your lies seeping in the warmth.  The room, with its familiar scent of him, his things strewn about casually, almost felt like a stage where you were playing a part you couldn’t reveal. It was strange, bittersweet, this cozy little world of yours that felt so real here but that would eventually dissolve the moment you stepped back into your life with Jack.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, blinking up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face trying to be present and not get lost in your thoughts. You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nestling into him. He gave a soft chuckle, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I need you to stay in bed for me for a bit, yeah?” he said, his tone gentle but somehow cautious. You raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at him more closely, half-expecting it to be some cheeky invitation. 

“Stay in bed?” you teased, smiling as you placed a playful kiss on his chest. But then he spoke again, and you caught the slight edge in his voice.

“Yeah, erm… Jack’s popping over,” he said, watching you carefully. It was like a cold wave washed over you, jolting you fully awake. You immediately pushed yourself up, heart racing. 

“Wait—what?” You scrambled, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly very aware that you were in Trent’s bed, in his house, wearing only his shirt. Trent had forgotten Jack was swinging by today until he got the text moments ago reminding him. He had promised he’d donate a pair of signed boots or something for Jack’s company to auction off for charity and today… he was coming to pick them up. 

“I forgot. Honest. It’ll be alright though.” He tried to tell you. This could not keep happening. You couldn’t tell which situation was worse. Jack finding out the other day - Trent was fucking you at your house, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to be there… Or Jack finding out now - You weren’t having sex as he came over but there was zero reason for you to be at Trent’s this early. There would be no excuse. You couldn’t keep lying to Jack this was eating you up. One mildly redeeming thought popped into your head – thankfully, your car was in Trent’s garage out of sight. It was tucked away though because Trent told you, you needed to take better care of it and can’t just leave it out all the time but still your anxiety was spiking.  

“T, then I have to leave!” you hissed, frantically looking around for how you could possibly grab all your things in time. You could already feel the guilt bubbling up inside, imagining Jack’s reaction if he walked in and found you here. But Trent just reached out, gently tugging you back, his arms wrapping around you, grounding you.

“Hey, hey. Relax, yeah? Just stay here. He’s not coming up into my bed,” he murmured, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be five minutes. He’s just coming by to pick something up. Quick, in and out. We’ll be okay.”  You looked up at him, worried, still tense. 

“Trent…” you began, but he only gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes full of that easy confidence he always seemed to carry.

“Please. Just stay here. It’ll be okay,” he murmured, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that you could never say no to. You sighed, settling back into his embrace, heart still hammering as you heard Jack’s car pull up outside. To be fair, it made more sense for you to hide but it felt even more shameful to do. Part of you wanted to pull the covers over your head, to hide and pretend this wasn’t happening. Instead, you sat tensely in bed, listening as Trent slipped downstairs, his voice echoing faintly as he greeted Jack. You could hear their friendly banter, and it twisted your stomach with guilt. You knew it was wrong to keep this from Jack, but the thought of losing these moments with Trent was just as hard. 

You sat there, still, hands nervously fidgeting as you heard their voices drifting up from downstairs. Jack’s laughter mixed with Trent’s lighter chuckle, and it churned something inside you—a pang of guilt mixed with a longing for this to be simpler, to be something you could share without worry. But for now, the thrill of sneaking around was overshadowed by the weight of keeping this secret from Jack, from the one person who’d seen you through everything, helped you through everything. But still, hearing Jack’s voice below reminded you of the stakes, of how much you valued him, his trust, and how deeply you felt the need to protect this secret with Trent—even if it meant bending the truth. You picked at the hem of Trent’s shirt, which felt soft and familiar against your skin. There was something comforting in wearing a part of him, yet it also made everything feel painfully real. This wasn’t just some fling. You knew it every time you looked into Trent’s eyes, every time he pulled you into his arms like he didn’t want to let go. And then you heard the front door close,  there was silence for a little while until footsteps came up the stairs breaking it. You held your breath, half-wishing you could vanish into the walls. When Trent finally walked back in, you met his gaze, searching his face for some reassurance that you weren’t just imagining this, that he understood the complicated feelings swirling inside you. When Trent came back into the room, you’d moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his shirt still draped over you, your hands fidgeting nervously, his face softening as he noticed the tension in your posture. He gave you a soft smile, walking over and tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes.

“Hey. All good, yeah?” he murmured, his voice gentle. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and you let yourself breathe again, slowly, finding comfort in his touch. You nodded, exhaling as you managed a small smile, letting yourself relax into him. 

“I just… I hate lying to him, Trent. It feels so messed up.” You let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with guilt. Trent knelt down in front of you, his hands finding yours. 

“I know, and I get it,” he said softly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your skin. “But it’s just us right now. And whatever this is,” he squeezed your hands, “I want it to be ours before it’s anyone else’s. Jack will understand that.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, grounding you in the certainty you felt with him. The guilt didn’t completely vanish, but his reassurance made it bearable, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could navigate this without losing what mattered. “You okay?” he asked, his gaze unwavering, full of that soft patience he always seemed to have for you. He came and sat on the bed with you. Keeping a cautious distance not wanting to overwhelm you but a gentle open hand close ready to hold yours if you wanted it.  You sat across from Trent, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap, your gaze low as you struggled to put words to the feeling that had been building up inside.

 “I just… I feel so guilty, lying to Jack all the time. T, it’s fucked,” you whispered repeating it once over, barely able to meet Trent’s eyes. Trent’s expression softened, and he took your hands in his, his touch grounding. 

“I know,” he murmured, squeezing your hands gently. “I feel it too. But it’s like… I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go. It’s… “ He paused momentarily, grappling with this almost as much as you. “It’s hard to feel like we can have both.” He cooed. You looked up at him, eyes searching his for something, maybe an answer, but all you found was a mirrored sense of conflict. 

“I want this,” you admitted, your voice a little choked. “I want you. But I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, terrified of falling in either direction.” You sniffled, trying to keep your emotions in check. He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze intense, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted one of your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hide us either, but I also don’t want to put you in the middle.” The two of you sat there, wrapped in a silence that felt heavy, a quiet admission of the fears you shared but couldn’t quite voice. You could feel the ache in your chest intensify, a lump rising in your throat as the weight of it pressed on you. You blinked, feeling a tear slip free despite your attempts to keep it together. Trent’s gaze softened immediately. “Hey, baby” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush the tear from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. “Talk to me. I know this is a lot.” You tried to smile, to reassure him, but it faltered, and instead, more tears followed, spilling over as you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling raw, exposed. “It’s just… Jack’s all I have. And I’m terrified that by being with you, by hiding this from him, I’m going to somehow lose both of you.” Your voice broke, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. Trent’s expression shifted, a deep sympathy filling his eyes as he moved closer, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you up tightly, holding you like he could somehow protect you from all the things that felt like they were slipping away.

“You could never lose me,” he whispered, his voice steady, almost as if he was willing it to be true, willing it to ease the fear in your heart. You leaned into him, feeling his arms around you, his steady presence a balm to the ache that had been building. But the silence that followed his words weighed heavily, filled with all the things neither of you could find a way to say. You let out a shaky breath, burying your face in his shoulder, feeling both comforted and conflicted in his embrace. After a moment, Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re all I think about,” he said softly, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart ache in a different way. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose, and I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You nodded, but the weight of the situation lingered. A part of you wanted so badly to believe that his reassurance was enough, that you wouldn’t have to choose, that you could keep this connection with Trent without losing your relationship with Jack. But doubt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were balancing on a thin line, one misstep away from losing it all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Trent tilted your chin up, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what happens” he repeated softly, his words a gentle promise. But something about the quiet that followed felt almost uncertain, as if he, too, knew how fragile everything was. Neither of you knew what would come next, and as he held you, the silence stretched, filled with both comfort and unspoken fears.In that moment, you held on tighter, hoping it would be enough to keep things from unraveling.

“Okay.” You nodded, managing a small smile as you squeezed his hands back. He smiled, his eyes brightening as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. 

“Always, always, always” he murmured against your hair, between kisses, holding you close as you melted into him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, finding strength in his steady heartbeat, letting yourself believe that somehow, everything would work out. While your brain was spiraling, Trent’s heart hurt just the same. He felt like a scumbag for lying to Jack, for being with you. But he also felt like for the first time he was properly falling for you, getting to know you in a way he’d always longed for.  He couldn’t just throw it all away now, now that  he had a taste. He was putting up a good front though holding you, telling you it was fine. It was hard, but fine, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t saying that to himself even more. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a fall out with you or Jack. 

One afternoon after things stayed as they were, Trent casually reached into his pocket, pulling out the sleek little tube of lip balm, twisting it open with the practiced ease of someone who’d clearly used it more than a few times. He applied a quick swipe to his lips, completely unaware of the attention it was drawing. Noah noticed first, his brows raising in surprise before he nudged Jack, nodding subtly toward Trent. Jack caught sight of the lip balm and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Bro…” he said, still chuckling, “pretty sure my sister uses that shit.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Trent glanced over, unbothered. Noah shook his head, grinning. 

“Mate, good thing you’ve got that contract lined up. What’re you doing spending pounds on… what is that? Lipstick? ‘Cause it isn’t Nivia innit?” he teased, exaggerating. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“First off, it’s a balm. Second, it’s moisturizing, and it’s not shiny or anything, so you lot can calm down.” Noah and Jack exchanged a look, both stifling laughs. 

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy,” Jack teased, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Just saying, Y/N buying Hermes chapstick is one thing… You? That’s mad.” Noah laughed. Unphased, Trent shrugged, narrowing his gaze on him.

“You ever see Y/N’s lips looking dry?” He held up the balm, grinning. Noah shook his head.  

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly looking, am I?” Noah chuckled, clearly having fun with it. Trent just shrugged again, refusing to give them the satisfaction of riling him up. 

“Just saying,” he replied smoothly. “You can keep laughing, but I’m the one not walking around with dry lips. Yours could use a little help, mate,” he joked, nodding toward Noah, who chuckled. Jack shook his head, still laughing. 

“Alright, fair play,” Noah shot back, grinning. “But careful, next thing you’ll be raiding her entire collection.” Jack just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re actually using the same shit as my sister.” Jack said. Trent smirked, tucking the balm back into his pocket with a satisfied look. 

“Gotta keep up, don’t I?” he replied, unbothered. “She knows what she’s doing.” Noah and Jack looked at each other knowingly queuing up a joke. Trent rolled his eyes, already sensing the teasing wouldn’t let up anytime soon. But he leaned back on the couch with a smirk thinking of you and your lips.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 7 xx

[samandcolbyownme]

Ahh hi! I love your writing 💜 you're so amazing

I was wondering if you could do something with Colby where he is secretly dating the reader who is a popular but smaller YouTuber. She's making videos while on vacation, acting like she's on her own but she is really with Colby and one of her videos accidentally shows his arm and people know it's him because of his tattoos. You can choose how it ends

Warnings: strong language, secret dating, kissing, mostly fluff

Word Count: 2.5k | unedited

ﾟ:*࿔❀𓆉︎❀ ࿔*:･ﾟ

You walk over to the counter, propping your phone up against your glass, “I’m actually having a great time, thank you for asking!”

You smile as your eyes scan down over the live chat that keeps refreshing with new questions and comments.

“Right now I am currently In Honolulu, in a few days, I’m going to close out my trip by flying to Maui and spending a few days there.”

“Stay safe.” You read, “I am staying safe! Everyone here has been so welcoming and just overall so sweet!”

“Have you gotten any leis?” You nod, “Yes, I have. When I first landed and then- here.” You walk over grabbing the floral rings from the table, “I have this one, which is a pretty purple, and then these two yellow ones and then this one, I think is my favorite.”

You hold up the pink and white one, “I love it here. I might not come back to the states.” You joke, laughing as you lay the leis back down, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

You read the chat, nodding your head, “Yes. I am traveling by myself.” You tilt your head, “Why? Um..” you shrug, “Honestly, I have no idea. Just for the thrill of it, you know? If I don’t see the world now, I might never get to.”

“Oh! The video. Yes. I will get that out tonight, I think I’m going to go down to the beach and finish editing it. I’m almost done. So..” you point to your phone, “Be on the lookout for that!”

You pick your phone and grab your glass to the a drink, “Oh my god, yes I will be careful about not getting a laptop tan line. That would not be flattering at all.”

You glance over at the balcony, “Oh, before I get off of here, I want to show the ones who missed it in my first live..” you walk over, “This beautiful view!”

You turn your phone around, showing off the view of the beach, “Seriously, though.” You laugh as you turn your phone back around, “I don’t think I want to leave.”

You blow kisses, “Thank you for joining me on this beautiful morning here in Hawaii.” You let out a sigh, “I’ll post that video here in a little while, so just sit tight. I love you!”

You end the live and immediately head for your bedroom.

“Is the coast clear?”

You smile as you nod, “Coast is clear.” You open your arms as Colby walks over to you, his arms wrapping tightly around you, “Sounded like a good live.”

“Yeah, yeah. About a thousand viewers, nothing big.” You lean back, pressing your lips to his, “Plus with the time difference, some people are probably still sleeping and what not.”

“Still, you’re getting up there, baby.” Colby smiles, “I like your little vlog videos.” He smirks, “Especially when it’s a video of you running into the water.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “I’ll give you that view in real time if we go get something to eat before heading to the beach.”

“Oh anything you want, sweetheart.” Colby nods, giving you a smile, “I’ll go climb a tree to get you a coconut myself.”

“I don’t think you need to- well.” You think for a second, “It would be hot seeing you climb one of those trees.”

He laughs, “alright, alright, before you get too invested in that. Come on.” He presses his lips to your forehead and you walk out to grab your beach and laptop bags.

You make your way down and into the car, “I’m going to do like a little video of us driving down the road, if that’s okay with you.”

Colby pulls his shades down and furrows his brows, “Baby, this is your show. If you want me to dance, I’ll dance.”

You smile, “I know, I just like to give you a warning before I just start recording.” You huff, “I don’t like hiding, but I’m just not ready for-“

“Hey.” Colby cuts you off, taking your hand into his, “I’m not in any rush. I like our own little bubble, okay? You don’t have to worry about me, I’m not going anywhere.” He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss into your knuckles, “I love you.”

You squeeze his chin with your hand, “And I love you.”

You bring your phone up, “I’m on my way to get something to eat right now, but just look at how breathtakingly beautiful the streets of Hawaii are.”

You flip the camera and pan it across the sky, “Oh look, there’s a double rainbow.”

You flip the camera back around and let out a sigh, “I love this place!”

You end the video and look over at Colby, “but I love you more.”

You can see his sunburned cheeks turn a deeper shade of red and he smiles like an idiot, “There’s no way you love me more than I love you.”

ﾟ:*࿔❀𓆉︎❀ ࿔*:･ﾟ

As you’re working on editing your video, you see a blue object slowly come into your peripheral. You look over, doing a double take before you realize it’s Colby holding the glass.

You look up at him with a smile, “thank you.”

He nods and walks around to sit on the lounger next to you, “Mhm, thought you could use a drink.”

You nod, “Yes definitely.” You laugh slightly, “Sorry, I must have been so zoned out, I would have came with to get it.”

He shakes his head, “You’re fine, babe.” He smiles, “How much more do you need to do?”

You sigh as you sit up, “I just need to finish the outro, but I have to add music to certain parts. Shouldn’t take too much longer.”

“I think a small break wouldn’t hurt.” He tilts his head with a smirk, “Right?”

You close your laptop and stand up, moving to sit in between his legs, your back pressing against his chest, “No, a break wouldn’t hurt at all.”

He wrap an arm around your chest, his hand resting on your shoulder as he sips his drink, “We have to make this a yearly thing. Just you and me, getting away from everything.”

You nod, “I couldn’t agree more, babe.”

Colby’s phone rings and he picks it up, “Hey.” You look back at him and you see Sam on the screen, “How’s Hawaii. Hey, y/n!”

“Hey Sam.” You smile, “How’s LA?”

“Not as good as where you guys are at. Bring me with next time.” Sam laughs and you nod, “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Colby. Your girlfriend is the nicest person in the world.”

“I know.” Colby laughs, “What’s up, man?”

You go back do focusing on the water crashing against the waves, the birds swooping down to land on the sand.

Your mind was so much ease right now, you really meant what you said about not coming back to the states.

Hawaii was your favorite- or, hold on, second favorite place in the world. The first, being right where you are now.

You rest your head against Colby’s arm and let out a content sigh as you bring your phone up to take a few selfies.

Colby notices and smiles, posing for a few before retuning to his FaceTime call with Sam. You smirk slightly, setting your empty glass down next to you, “Hey I’ll be right back.”

You stand up and Colby tilts his head, “Where ya goin’, babe?”

“To the water.” You smirk and turn around, slowly walking away then picking up your speed by running towards the ocean.

You knew Colby was watching.

After a few moments of wading in the water, you feel hands slip around you hips and you smirk, “Hey.”

Colby pulls you back to him and tightens his arms around your torso, “I’d be okay if we never went home.”

You nod, “I also agree to that.” You laugh slightly and turn around, your arms moving to go around his neck and he lifts you up.

You press your lips to his a few times before just hugging him.

“I really need to get that video done.”

“Do you want me to help you?” Colby offers and you nod, “If you want.”

That turned into Colby laying his head on your ass while you laid on your stomach to work on the video.

You didn’t mind, you actually preferred this.

Every now and then you’d get a little smack or a squeeze or even a playful bite to your one cheek and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Colby moves up beside you, “How’s it coming?”

“I think..” you let out a sigh, looking over at him, “I’m done.”

“There we go.” Colby reaches up to hit play, “Oh yeah, I love that intro.”

“It’s just my silhouette in the sunset, Colby.” You laugh as you look over at him and he looks back, “Yeah, but it’s you, and I love everything about you.”

You fight back a smile as you lean in to kiss him, “Alright. I have to post this, then I’m all yours.”

ﾟ:*࿔❀𓆉︎❀ ࿔*:･ﾟ

After another couple, uninterrupted hours at the beach, you and Colby decided to head back to the hotel.

“Are you able to spend my last few days on this trip with me in Maui?” You look over at Colby and his brows move in towards one another, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, “I didn’t know if you and Sam had any preplanned adventures or anything.”

“No.” He chuckles while shaking his head, “We both agreed to take a few weeks off, and mine, I plan on spending with you.”

You turn your head towards him, a smile on your lips, “I love that.”

He smiles, “What do you want to do for dinner, baby?”

You grab your phone, “Dammit. I was going to look up a place, but my phone is dead.” You set your phone in your lap, “But we can go to that beach one?”

“Oh, yeah!” He nods, “I heard about it, but I can’t remember the name of it.” He reaches into his pocket and sighs, “Mines dead, too.”

“Isn’t that our luck.” You laugh, taking his hand into yours, “Well figure it out.”

Once back at the hotel, you plug both of your phones in move to get ready for dinner, “Should I wear the floral pink one, or the flowy purple?”

Colby spins around and tilts his head, “Mm, I think the purple one.”

You nod, setting it down so you can change. Colby walks up behind you, his hand sliding down your sides, “You’ll look beautiful in anything, though.”

As you spin around, you press your lips to his and he smirks within the kiss. Just as the kiss depends, your phone vibrates and doesn’t stop.

“Is that..” you mumble within the kiss, “Mine.. or yours?”

“Not sure.” He mumbles back, kissing down your neck, “I think..” he leans back, glancing from the phones to you, “Both?”

You walk over, sitting down to grab your phone.

Sam: You guys are in trouble

Sam: I take it you didn’t watch your video back before posting it?

Tara: GIRL you need to check how many views you have right now

Tara: Your video is doing absolute numbers!

Tara: I didn’t know you and Colby were saying anything to anyone yet!

“Um. Why is Sam saying we’re in trouble and why is Tara saying she didn’t know we were saying anything yet?” You look up at Colby and he shakes his head, “I don’t.. what?”

He walks over to sit next to you, reaching over to grab his phone as he looks at yours, “we watched that video back together, there was nothing of me in that, though?”

“Right, like I just-“ You swipe out of your messages and go to your YouTube, “Hold on.”

You go to the comments and your heart skips a beat, “Your arm.” You look at Colby, “the video I took of the double rainbows, you can see your tattooed arm.”

“Oh shit.” He stares at you and you both fight back laughter, but neither of you can hold it, so you break.

“Oh shit.” You laugh, “Well, I mean.” You shrug, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag then right? We don’t have to date in hiding anymore.”

Colby brushes hair from your face and holds your head, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You nod, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I know we’ve talked about it before and how we both agreed to wait to say anything.”

“I’m scared, don’t get me wrong. Your fans can be ruthless, but at the same time..” you reach up, holding his cheek with the palm of your hand, “I know you love me, and I know that that is all that matters.”

He nods, “That’s right.” He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours gently, “I love you, and you’re the most important thing to me. If they don’t like it, they can fuck right off.”

You smile, nodding your head as he stands up.

“If you want, I can go get dinner and bring it back?”

You tilt your head, “No. I want dinner on the beach. Nothing is ruining that for us.”

He smiles and nods, “Okay. I’ll finish getting around.”

You nod, turning your attention back to your comment section.

User.one: WAIT WAIT WAIT THE ARM IN THE CAR PART AT LIKE 01:15!!!

↳ User.two: I’d know that arm anywhere. The tattoos are a dead giveaway

↳ User.three: a DEAD giveaway

User.four: wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait

↳ User.five: y/n really just summoned a whole ass fandom in just a few hours this is insane!

User.six: y/n is in Hawaii right now!?!? WITH COLBY!?

↳ User.seven: that would be correct!

User.eight: OHHH I love this

↳ User.nine: ME TOO ME TOO ME TOO

User.ten: Colby did say he was taking a few weeks off from him and Sam’s videos didn’t he?

↳ User.eleven: Yeah, but that really isn’t anything new. They always do that.

User.twelve: so she WASNT alone! No wonder she felt safe, she has Colby there! Oh my goddddd I’m going to explode help

“Hey.” Colby comes in and sits next to you, “Are you okay?”

You look up at him, “No one is freaking out.” You shake your head, “I know I shouldn’t be feeding in and reading them but I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay.” He nods, “There isn’t always going to be nothing but good comments, but do you remember what you said to me?”

“That.. you love me, and nothing else matters.”

He nods, “Right.” He smiles, “It might be new to them, but it doesn’t change us.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Everything will simmer down, and they’ll just have to accept that you’re my girl.”

ﾟ:*࿔❀𓆉︎❀ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lewkwoodnco]

Okay I’m just so proud of this edit I just havee to talk abt some of the scene choices hehe🙈🙈

Mon, pine - ngl i completely forgot this scene existed until I randomly stumbled upon it while looking for some other screencaps and thank god I did cuz it fits SO WELL??? Lucy’s possessed by Annabel who’s talking abt someone else obviously but just LOOK at Lockwood’s face half of him wants to snap Lucy out of it/make sure she stays safe and the other half is just mesmerised by the sight of her looking at him like that. And the dialogue??? YOU LOVE ME, DONT YOU????? And he so obviously does but can’t say it/ is too scared to and it’s frightening to see lucy like this but he can’t look away he’s drinking in the sight like a man starved 😭 just the juxtaposition of lovkwood’s pining and the cheekily on-the-nose ‘you love me don’t you’ line creates this delicious tension ARGH the writers were sick SICKKK for this

Tue, long - as soon as he first laid eyes on lucy it’s like he can’t help but let his gaze linger over her and even though she’s the candidate being interviewed the way he tries to impress her as he gives her the tour (the basement training area, the ‘high security’ storage room, her room in the attic) it’s like you can tell he’s already desperately hoping that she’ll join as if he’s longing for company like hers

Wed, ache - love is nothing if not pain like other than the obvious physical pain of being in such close proximity to a flare explosion etc bro is HURTING with regret for putting her (and george) in danger just cuz he insisted they take the case and now they’re in so deep and its all his fault but also he just wanted to fix the 62 sheen road fallout keep his agency open (it’s almost like he wants to prove to her that he/lockwood and co. is worth sticking with) but it’s all gone so wrong and he’s just drowningggg in physical and mental anguish only love can hurt/ACHE like this frfr

Thu, sigh - but at the end of the day lockwood is still a 16 ish year old boy who sucks at expressing his innermost feelings and doesn’t know how to deal with jealousy in any way other than being moody about it/suppressing it and this scene is like yea these are kids fighting ghosts night after night but for five minutes they get to be regular angsty teenagers and have the air between them hang heavy with unspoken words and it’s all so dumb and frustrating but also they’re teenagers what ELSE are they going to do HHHHHHH like look at his face!!! bro is befuddled. dumbfounded. bamboozled even. (what do you mean you’re going out with Kipps i thought we’ve been playing house tgt what)

Fri, lament - as funny as this scene is it’s oddly sweet how he’s ranting so openly to Lucy and like the way she tries to reason with him (he probably signed the same NDA we did) and he STILL stomps around throwing a fit aurgghh it’s so adorable just kiss already

Sat, crave - just look at him. bro is down bad for every single part of lucy it’s like he can’t get enough of her, he’s not even hiding it here like look at him watch her like she’s the most precious thing in the world ughhh

Sun, yearn - ooh this scene is like the breaking point of all the accumulated hidden feelings and thoughts between them and he’s messed up so badly atp even lucy is properly pissed (where’s that incorrect quote - my girl is mad at me I am going to KILL myself) but he’s just too paralysed by 16-year-old-boy syndrome to respond to her (tho he finally gets his head on somewhat right in the next scene) so he just stares at her and takes the scolding wondering how things got this bad when all he had done was care and love and yearn for Lucy (can’t you see his heart clawing out of his chest to get to her)

Also I think it’s so hilarious that in the scene in the top gif he’s talking to lucy aka the very person that has him BOOKED AND BUSY with longing 😭😭

a week in the life of London's youngest agency head (insp.)

[stanpinesdykewife]

Helloo!! So I love love love all of your work you have do on AO3 so much I'm so happy I found you on tumbler! Your writing is absolutely beautiful. I was wondering if you could maybe do a short fluff piece going off of speed dating and easy? Something where reader has had a hard day and isn't up for spicy time and just wants to be taken care of? Just something soft and sweet please and thank yooouuu! 💓🫶🏻💓

hiii!!! giggling at your super sweet compliments thank you so so much! i love the speed dating universe so even though this was sitting half-baked in my drafts for a while this was really nice to write!!! thanks so much for waiting, i hope you like this! under the cut:

boring stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 800 words (bonus: sfw bedtime stan headcanons)

You're in bed, lying on your side, Stan's whole body pressed against yours when you finally squirm away from his lips on your shoulder. He stops, his hand stilling on your waist where he'd bunched up your shirt to touch your bare skin. You're clenching your eyes shut, embarrassed, as a beat of silence passes.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Stan asks from behind you, his voice hesitant. He starts to slide his hand off your waist when you grab it, keeping it there. Stan stops again, but this time sounds confused when he starts, “Uh, did I—”

“No. You didn't do anything, sorry, I'm just…” You struggle to find the words for a second. Another tense pause passes, unusual, even eerie in your normally lively company with Stan. Finally, you sigh. “I'm really tired.”

You hesitate for another moment before tugging Stan's hand over your waist, further underneath your shirt to the bare skin of your stomach. Stan goes along with it, like he always does, just letting you move his arm and press his palm flat to your body. The touch draws another deep sigh from you.

“Tough day, huh?” Stan says, any heat gone from his voice to make room for something softer. He glides his thumb over your stomach and you relax as his breath fans over your shoulder. He's kind of awkward with the emotional stuff, and maybe a little put out by you wriggling away from him a moment ago. You are, too. But Stan's voice is still kind when he offers, “You wanna… I dunno. Talk about it? Vent?”

“I think I just need to lay here,” you mutter, unmoving. Stan hums behind you, idly tracing light arches into your skin.

Then he pulls away, shuffling backwards away from your body towards his (mutually agreed-upon, unspoken) side of the bed. Your brows furrow and you turn to look over your shoulder as Stan gets comfortable on his back. He sighs when his head hits the pillow, then catches your eye. There's a little pink to his cheeks when he opens his arms.

“C'mon, let's get you comfortable,” Stan grumbles, though his eyes are warm. You brighten, just a little, and quickly roll over to lay your chest on his. Stan's big arms come around you as you hug him, pressing your cheek to his collarbone and slinging one leg over his. Once you settle down, the two of you are thoroughly tangled up in each other in a way you can only describe as cozy.

“This is nice,” you sigh, nosing at the base of his neck before letting your head lay comfortably on his shoulder. Stan rubs his hand over your spine, making you melt into him. You yawn.

“Am I boring you?” Stan says, grin in his voice. You laugh through the tail end of your yawn, shaking your head.

“If anything, I'm boring you,” you say, but Stan tuts and cuts you off before you can say anything else.

“None o’ that. I didn't have the energy anyway,” he says, nonchalant. You lean upwards slightly to raise a brow at him, glancing pointedly at the tent in his boxers. Stan grabs the side of your head and shoves you back into his chest, making you laugh. “Ignore that.” 

“I love you,” you say, because it feels like the right thing to say. Stan freezes. You pause, your smile dropping. Was that the first time you've ever said that? “Um… You don't have to—”

“Love you, too, sweetheart—Uh, honey. Honey sweet… sugar. Sugar sweet, syrup baby—bird. Baby bird,” Stan rambles, his voice becoming more strained with every word. You laugh out loud again as he continues, stumbling over the nicknames, “Honey ball, uh, balls—Sugar balls. Candy pie.”

“Sugar balls!” you cackle, trying to shove yourself up again. But Stan tightens his grip on you, one arm pinning you down by your back and the other coming around to keep your head still on his chest as you kick your feet. “Haha, Stan! Let me up, I'm suffocating, I'm dying—”

“I'll see you in the afterlife,” Stan says sagely, then rolls over to pin you under his full weight. You're still laughing, and Stan starts to laugh with you, even as he play-fights his hand over your mouth to get you to stop. You peek up at him, giddiness growing in your chest at the violent flush on his face, the shy fondness in his smile.

You chuckle into his hand and lick his palm, making Stan yelp and rip it away, and you take advantage to wriggle out from under him and shove him onto his side.

You'll get back to cuddling in a few minutes. For now, you're gonna wrestle and laugh and let the person you love make you feel better.

sfw bedtime stan headcanons:

stan loves staying in bed all day when he has someone to do it with, especially since he rarely has off-days between work and the portal and post-canon sailing with ford

he is touch-starveddd and loves laying there doing nothing but cuddling or rolling around or wrestling or... you know... giggles

he doesn't do it often because he does believe in eating food and watching television. but when he does, he's there ALL day

he's gross he has crumbs in his bed you can't look me in the eyes and say he doesn't

i feel like during canon it would be reasonable for him to have developed insomnia... but post-canon i think he'd love sleeping in with VERY specific circumstances. his brother is out solo-exploring for a day, the twins are at a sleepover and don't need breakfast, stan isn't expected to visit the shack? he's sleeping for 20 hours straight

even if he doesn't sleep in i feel like if his partner had the day off or even worked from home and hung out in their room all day stan would absolutely be glued to the mattress

maybe these hcs feel out of character to me just a little bit but consider: you wake up to big beefy arms tugging you closer by your waist and a LOUD ass cozy snore from above your head

giggling about morning breath and trying to push stan off the bed to guzzle some mouthwash

he's embarrassed at first because he has to take his dentures out in front of you and pop em back in in the morning it's a whole thing, but eventually he gets comfortable enough that you're allowed to make the cleaning solution for him at bedtime and offer the glass for him to put the dentures in

sorry if the dentures thing threw anyone off because for a few seconds there it threw me off erm but i'm nothing if not determined to establish my alpha position as old man lover no matter what.

ANYWAY. this list got away from me a little bit

final bed hc stan is not used to sharing a bed with another person he hogs the blankets. as in he'll literally wake you up in the middle of the night because he'll be sleeping and roll over and take all the blankets with him and you will never get to have them again without tugging so hard. he has no idea he does this until you offhandedly mention it months into dating

[vulpixisananimal]

(Isabeau) (Polaris and Wren blong to @neoncityrain and @fungal--wastes)

"Night, big guy!"

"Night, tall lady!"

(You and Vixul waved goodnight and headed to your own rooms. She was alright! A good fighter, confident, fun; you're leaving tomorrow, so hopefully you'll see her again.)

(Today in general had been nice, nothing too crazy, just, nice. You helped Jan get the homestead ready for the winter rush, did some training, packed and prepared for leaving tomorrow, you were ready for bed. You open the door, Siffrin had already headed to bed, so, hopefully you wouldn't, w-walk in on them again. . .)

(You walk in and close the door, then stop. You were stuck in place, eyes wide, a strike went through your heart at the scene before you.)

(Siffrin, p-probably not Siffrin actually, was laying on their side, head held in one hand, the other on their hip. They had a wide, cheeky smile, and they had no top on. The star-shaped scars on their body from that day in Dormont looked like a galaxy. The two long mystery scars Siffrin had on their chest were like comets. You were blushing at the sight, blushing like CRAZY.)

"Hello, fighter~" (O-okay!!! It was Loop!!! Got it!!) "So kind of you to join me on this wonderful night!"

"H-HiLoop-" (You let out with a squeak.)

(Loop smiled wider.) "Stunned at the sight of me?"

"Y-yep-!" (Your head sunk into your shoulders and looked away.)

"What? Really?" (Loop said in a mock jokey voice.) "Nooooo but I'm just wearing my nighties~ We have such a big day tomorrow!"

"R-right! Uh-" (You stepped more into the room, trying to make yourself small.) "I-Iuh, it's, yes! Big day! and, uh-"

"And~" (Their smile widened.) "Those mean, mean headmates have kept me away from you ever since that moment~"

(You cover your ever growing blush with your hands.) "BGHNHBDNSDSDB"

"Awwww, too much~?" (Loop rolls onto their front.) "You look tired, Fighter~ you should get changed, I wont look~ Probably~"

(That "probably" was making you just a little bit normal, but, they were right. You were tired from the day, so, so it's time to! You get changed quickly, trying not to think about if Loop is or is not looking at you.)

(You finish up, take a breath, and turn around. Loop was all nice and cozy under the blankets in bed; eyes closed. You breathe a sigh of relief.) "A-all done!"

(They open their eye.) "Stunning, fighter~"

"T-thanks-!" (You squeak. You walk over to your side of the bed and tuck in.)

(Not a moment later Loop was cuddled right up next to you. They looked so, so cute. So sweet. . . You were both facing eachother on your side, and you noticed that despite their cool exterior, they were blushing as much as you were. You spent a few moments just. . . Staring at each other.)

(They put an arm around you, you an arm around them. They pulled themself to your chest. You wrapped them up close. It was like this that you, again, remained silent for some time.)

". . . I. . ." (You finally broke the silence, it was a single letter, but it was broken.)

(Loop retrieved their head from the warmth of your chest and looked up at you.) "Yeeeees~?"

". . . U-uh-" (You look away, shy.) "I just. . . . H-how, how long?"

"Hmmm?"

". . . H-how, long have you, been feeling. . ."

(Loop places a hand on your cheek, and turns your head back to look at them.)

"The moment I laid eyes on you, Isabeau~"

(They lean in close to you, gently, softly, smiling. Unlike last time, though, you knew what was coming. You lean in as well, the moment before lasted an eternity.)

(But the moment a connection is made, you wanted it to last forever.)

>>>

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} (Siffrin) [Loop] [(???)]

(You were dreaming of a campfire. You couldn't move from the campfire, but you didn't want to. It was so warm, comfortable, and. . .)

(You open your eye. Sunlight was flickering through the window, and you could hear people awake already. You closed your eye for just a moment more. It was, so, so warm. . . You never had a blanket so comfortable. . . It was, it was- Isabeaus arm?!?!?)

(It was at that moment you realized that you were tangled in Isabeaus limbs. No way you could move now, and if he rolled onto his front right now, you'd be crushed! Your face was burning. Just, uh, you had to wait! Yeah! You could wait!)

(. . . You didn't have to wait long. You felt Isa shuffle, then yawn, then pull you closer.) "Mmmorning...."

"M-morningIsa--" (You let out, shakily. Oh STARS you were going to explode at this rate!!)

(His face was pressed again the back of your head, gently humming into your hair. His hand traced up, to the side of your head, holding your cheek. . .)

". . . . O-ooohyeah- uh-" (His voice was soft, but wobbled.) "L-loop, right?"

(SSTARS--) ". . . S-sif-"

(Isa paused. You could only imagine the face he must be making, the fear, or, o-or shame, or-)

"T-that'sokay-" (He held you closer, and kissed the back of your head.) "I, just need to know which nickname to use, my lil' Wish.."

(You let out a noise you've never made before. Little Wish?!?!?)

"T-toomuch?" (Isa asks, leaning over to look at you.)

(You cover your face with your hands.) "I-I'mokay, j-just, mmnghnmgfhnmb--"

(You heard Isa laugh, then kiss the side of your head, pause for a moment, then start to get up. After a moment of contemplating alternatives, you get up as well.)

"B-big day today!" (Isabeau chatted while he got dressed. You were still waking up.) "Aaaaaand it looked like we slept in, whoops!"

"I think I needed it." (You mumble, getting up and doing your morning stretches. It was your back and leg that ached today.)

"Hah, you're right! The past few days of rest clearly wasn't enough! Haha!"

(Your stumble a bit doing your stretches at that, then finish up.) "Nah, I think I just needed to wake up lik. . . li. . ." (Your voice broke as you tried finishing that sentence. You look down, blushing even harder.)

". . . . H-hey have you checked the journal yet?" (Isa says, to your rescue.)

"N-nope! I'll uh, do that!"

(You were thankful for the distraction. You looked around for a second and saw your new journal on the side table. You have a quick look through to see if there was anything new.)

(Two days ago you talked to Polaris, you remember that, Mal was around for that too. Yesterday it was, Null and Loop? A nasty combination. But by the looks of it, nothing bad happened! And they packed for you too! How sweet- huh?)

(The last note though, it was Mals writing. Written in the middle of the night. . . Oh.)

"O-oh-" (You let out.)

"Eeeeverything alright?"

"Y-yep! I was w-worried about packing but it looks like that's all dealt with!" (You lie, Mal didn't want to tell the family yet. It was asking you, and the others, if you should. You put a checkmark, they should know. . . Stars. . .)

(Someone new.)

(That was enough. You got dressed, put away the last few things that were left out, and stole a few glances at Isabeau. You put, the new presence to the back of your mind. Pun not intended.)

"All ready?" (Isa asks as you join him by the door.)

"You know it~" (You beam at him. The two of you opened the door and left. You could smell breakfast already-)

"Oh. Good morning." (It was a voice you recognized, but a little to the left. Turning, it was Vixul. Vixul?)

"Good morning!" (Isa boomed.) "Sleep well last night?"

"Like a stone." (Her face was more inquisitive, looking between you and Isa.) "Yourself?"

"Never better!" (Isa chuckled.)

"It's, good to see you again, Vixul." (You left a slight pause before her name, questioning.)

"Likewise." (She considered you two for a moment, then he smiled slightly.) "But between us? It's the first time you've met me. I'm Major, just, keep acting like I'm Vixul around everyone else."

"O-oh! Well, good to meet you, it's Siffrin."

"Still boring ol' Isabeau!"

"Heh." (He shook his head.) "You two are like a couple peas in a pod. Ready for breakfast?"

"Absolutely!! We all have a big walk ahead of us."

"A-actually-" (You need to ask him something.) "C-can, we catch up, after a sec?"

"Secret stuff?" (Isa makes a line across his mouth.) "Got it! I'll see ya downstairs."

(The two of you wait until Isa stomps down to join the others before Major turns to you.) "What's up, small fry."

"O-oh, well." (You were too nervous to be annoyed at the nickname.) ". . . I-I, checked, my book this morning. M-message from Mal, someone, new, uh-"

"May I see?" (He holds out a hand. You fish your book out of your endless pockets and hand it to him.) ". . . ."

". . . ."

". . . . Cool." (He handed the book back to you.) "Well, not cool but whatever. You're doing things right, just try and chat, distract them with hobbies, persecutors are. . ."

"I-I remember." (You nod, putting the book away.) "Just, worried that-"

"That you're not doing it right?" (He chuckled.) "You're doing great, small fry. C'mon, let's get food."

(He clears his throat and shakes his head, back in character- oh yeah!) "Vixul keeps her eye a bit more open, a-and smiles a bit more."

(He looks down at you, surprised.) ". . . 'Thought I was doing a good job."

"You were, I'm just an expert~" (You wink.)

(The two of you joined everyone else in the main lobby. Chairs and tables were moved around to make one big breakfast table. The whole Inn was here! Vixul and her group, you and yours, and, of course, Jan, who getting the last plates of food out of the kitchen before taking their own seat.)

"Here comes trouble." (You hear Polaris grumble.)

"If you take one I'll take the other." (Nille responded, grinning.)

"Making friends already, Pétronille? Are we not enough?" (Odile adds, she was reading Wrens book.)

"Not with Polaris, surely." (Wren responds in the same tone, he was reading Odiles.) "Careful, he bites."

"I DO NOT!" (Polaris responds, voice cracking.)

"Do too." ("Vixul" adds, sitting down. You took your seat next to Isa, too.)

"I DON'T!!"

"You do. Like a cat." (Wren rolls his eyes.)

"Hehe, no wonder he and Siffrin get along so well!" (Mira teases.)

"H-HUH?!?" (YOU JUST SAT DOWN?!?)

"It's true!" (Isa was smiling wide.) "Cuddly like a cat, too!!"

"Eeeewwww!" (Polaris made a jokey face. YOU sunk into your chair.)

"That tracks." (Wren smiles.) "Polaris is, too."

"H-HEY!!!" (No Pol was ALSO sinking into his chair. Everyone laughed.)

(The banter continued. Breakfast was delicious, as usual. Jan and Bonnie had worked together and the result was a feast to remember. Apparently, Vixuls group didn't have a good cook between them. Vixul was the best, and by best you mean 'passable.')

(Everyone had been getting to know eachother more, trading stories, woes, quips. There were smiles, laughter, embarrassment. . . You couldn't help but glance at Ramos, they were glancing back.)

"So you're off to Wolworth?" ("Vixul" asks.)

"Yup!" (Isa says after swallowing his bite.) "My buddy Ramos was raised there! We're off to visit them!"

"But after that?" (Nille punched her hand intimidatingly.) "We're gonna find those two and beat the crab outta them!"

(That gets a few cheers. Next, Mirabelle talks.) "What about you three?"

"Oh, uh. . ." ("Vixul" leans back in his chair.) "We're going to Jouvente, then Dormont, then once I've helped these two I'll leave for some other country, or continent. Dunno where yet."

"No settling down then?" (Mira follows up.)

". . . Nah, not yet. . ." (There's a hint of sadness, there.) ". . . Wren?"

"I have my own things to take care of." (He had closed the book at this point, but wasn't looking up from his plate.) "Once that's dealt with, I'll settle here."

"It's a nice country." (Ramos agrees.)

"Mhm. Polaris?"

"O-oh! Uh. . ." (Polaris looks away, thinking for a moment.) ". . . I dunno."

(He looked down at his food. There was a little silence before Wren sighed, and spoke up.) "You can settle with me, Polaris."

"H-huh?!?" (He looks up.) "You sure?"

"Just don't scratch the furniture." (Wren, and everyone else, laughs.)

(Breakfast went great. You finished up, and helped cleared for all of about 3 minutes until Mirabelle told you to sit down since you were still recovering. At which point, Wren turned and told her the exact same thing.)

(. . . . . You liked this little vacation.)

(You had, made friends here.)

>>>

(That's everything.)

(Breakfast cleared, rooms made, things packed. The two groups of travelers took their time getting out the door. That was okay, you wanted to check one last thing. On one part of the wall, covered by a cloth, was that little sign.)

"Make a wish, check it thrice, stay here a while, don't mind the mice." (You smiled to yourself. What a cute little saying. You looked under the cloth, and it was still there. Still unreadable to all but you- huh? There's a fresh pair of nails in the wood next to the sign.)

"Just the fella I wanted to catch." (You look up, Jan the innkeeper was walking over with a new wood sign under her arm.)

"O-oh hey!" (You wave.) "Did, you need me for something?"

"Nah, just wanted to thank you properly. And put your little gift up." (They walked up to those fresh nails, and started putting the sign up.) "Real thoughtful, by the way."

"Whu- huh?" (You blink, confused.) "What do you. ."

"Don't remember? That's fine." (She got the sign up and stepped away.) "Either way, still looks good."

(The new addition was a wooden sign. It wasn't painted, but it was carved, carefully and with detail. The words on the sign were very familiar; "Make a wish, check it thrice, stay here a while, don't mind the mice.")

". . . Did, I make that?"

"Sure did. Just walked up, handed it to me, and walked away." (She let out a laugh.) "Heh, made me tear up all night. Gramps woulda' been proud."

(. . . That, sounded like Mal. Mal made that? For, for a stranger?)

". . . Take care of yourself, bud." (Jan turned and lightly punched you in the shoulder.) "If ya ever need a bed, I'll give you one without mice."

(You laughed, and said your goodbyes. Mal made that, you still couldn't believe it. . . But, at least now people would know what it means. You made your way out, being the last to join everyone.)

"That everyone?" (Isa asked.)

"No, I left Loop behind." (You stick your tongue out, he laughs.)

(You turned to "Vixuls" group of three, well, three-ish. You're smiling. There's an awkward silence before the inevitable.)

". . . Guess this is goodbye." ("Vixul" breaks the silence, grinning.) "Don't go loosing your head, alright?"

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

"Right back atchya!"

"No promises."

". . . Good luck, you three." (You were feeling, surprisingly emotional. You had only known these three for a week. Maybe two if you counted the loops. You were going to miss them.) "With, with everything."

". . Thank you, Siffrin." (Wren bows politely.) "I wish the same for all of you, as well."

"Oooh the w-word, careful with that."

"Ha, I'll be careful. . ."

(Polaris looks away, quiet. Wren sighs, and elbows him in the gut.)

"H-hey-! Uh. . ." (He looks to Wren, then to you, then away.) ". . ."

(. . . He stomps over to you and shoves something into your hand.) "Here." (He pouts, then walks back.) ". . . Thanks for, helping. The other day."

(You open your hand. One of his oversized needles was in it. You look up at him.) ". . . Good luck, Polaris. I, wont forget this."

[You got the PIN KNIFE.] [Very low damage, but doubles your speed, and your critical damage is quintupled!!] [You can see stars twinkle in the ball-point.]

". . . I wont, either." (His face softens, sinking into is own cloak a little.) ". . . For Navi."

". . . For Navi." (. . . On the highest peak. . .)

(. . . There was a moment of silence. You didn't acknowledge it; you didn't need to. . . Eventually, it had to be broken. With your last goodbyes said, the group of three headed off to their own travels. You waved back one last time, before turning to your own adventures; leading the group of seven.)

(Well, seven-ish.)

[killuakiru]

Hiii hru? I was wondering if I could request gon and killua (seperate) with a fem reader that is very girly? And I know it’s kinds weird but she kinda has pretty privilege and will literally get whatever she wants by winning at some other teenager. Shes very kind and sweet though so she doesn’t take advantage of it. Sorry if that’s kind of odd and if you don’t want to write it it’s ok🫶 love you!

HI ANON !! It's completely alright 🫡 I find this request rly cute as my other post was the exact opposite ! Thank you for making this request 🫰 Apologies if its ooc ( out of character ), but I had soo much fun writing this !

⊹₊⋆ IT Girl !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹₊⋆ Girly!Reader x Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecss ( Separate ! )ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

༉‧₊˚. Let's Start !༉‧₊˚.

༉‧₊˚. Killua Zoldyck !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• Now let's all be honest ! The first time Killua met you, he probably felt so annoyed and kept grumbling how they were teams with a "girl." As the stereotypical boy he is.

• But despite Killua's comments, you were so unbothered and even excused his actions?! He was stunned! Because if that was him, he'd internally judge them!

• But honestly, Killua underestimated you. In Killua's eyes, you looked so.. fragile? Yet your performance in combat impressed him! You were pretty agile, and you had a smart mind— not to mention, you were pretty, too! Not like he would say that out loud.

• During the final examination, yk the time where he killed an applicant? He could see you from his peripheral vision, and he saw genuine worry and concern for him. HIM. He found that so odd that a girl like you would worry for him.

• When you rescued him, that look in your eyes just SCREAMED affection, and that just hit Killua in the gut, y'know? Who wouldn't fumble in their words when such a pretty and sweet girl like [Name] comes running to them with an expression like that.

• See now— in Killua's case, he's never been with a caring or sweet female since almost everyone is his household is literally fucked up. So you were a new case for him.

• Nonetheless, he was pretty honored and glad you came for him out of everyone.

• And so, he slowly warmed up to you, even growing comfortable to the point he'd randomly touch your hair, arms, fingers, just any where he thinks that looks odd or pretty.

• Yes ! He sometimes stares at your features and finds himself admiring them. Well who wouldn't?! The way you bat your eyelashes so innocently, the way your lip gloss reflects the sun in a positive elegant way when you smile, complimenting your teeth, the way your blush makes your cheeks so much more squishy he just wants to—

• "Killua? You okay? You're zoning out again." [Name] says in amusement with Gon just looked at the boy who was staring, Killua blinked twice and hummed in a nonchalant manner, placing his hands behind his back and shrugged. "I'm perfectly fine. Better than ever. Let's get going again."

• There was one time where there's this one kid around their age who was gatekeeping Killua's the store's choco robots and you came to Killua's rescue, using your very cutesy face card to convince the kid to at least have 3!

• After that, Killua looked at you like you're some kind of GODDESS. He's been trying to convince that kid and you did it so effortlessly?! Even snagging him an extra one?! Oh you're his favorite now.

༉‧₊˚. Gon Freecss !ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

• He found you SUUUPER cute and charismatic ! Like the whole time you two were talking, he'd always sneak in a compliment ! His words flattered you a bunch, too !

• He's like a natural smooth talker 'cause WHAT?! Every compliment / comment he makes about you leaves your heart beating!

• Instead of you making him flustered, you ALWAYS find yourself stammering over your words. Was it you who fell in love first or was it him?!

• Honestly with how smooth he is you're starting to think he treats every girl like this.. ( Spoiler, he doesn't )

• During the Heaven's Arena training, he was genuinely worried since you'd often wear skirts, but turns out you were already prepared! Introducing the.. skort! While it looks like an ordinary skirt, there were already built in shorts inside to prevent the creeps from looking!

• Similarly to Killua, he finds himself staring but is shamelessly doing it. When you stare back, he smiles. SMILES so charmingly, making YOU look away and he laughs.

• He loves the fact you get along with anyone you see or talk to !! It's probably because of your looks and personality, but nonetheless he supports you !!

• okay but I js know he's really vocal with your favorite features !! He probably loves your hair since it looks so silky, smooth, and soft to the touch! He also probably loves your nails too ! Almost having new and different styles monthly and he loves making guesses and predictions on what the design / style it'll be !!

• oh and, he absolutely LOVES how you do a wardrobe change almost everyday, you and Killua do a bunch of fashion shows together and Gon rates them :3

• His favorite fits are probably the ones with the very long skirts that reach the ankles with a comfy top, just anything that reminds him of Mito !

• He loves all the girls in his life equally :3 a lot of things reminds him of you and Mito ! So when he brought you and Killua to Whale Island to meet Mito, he was really happy that you got along well with his mother <3

• This was honestly his go signal to just shoot his shot, what could he lose? His mama loves you so much ! And he does too !! And so does Killua !! Everyone approves of you !!

༉‧₊˚. End !༉‧₊˚.

Thank you for reading ! This strictly belongs to me / killuakiru and I do not give permission for you to repost on other platforms, thank you !

[kittenfangirl20]

*Lucifer loved taking care of Adam, especially when it was said that it was good for Adam to spend more time in bed and work from home, Adam would now lay in bed in some nightgown while working on paperwork while Lute and Emily came to him for assignments*

Adam: I love you little ones, but I would like for this pregnancy to end. Though if you must know a secret, I do want to have more babies, I always dreamed of making a big family with Luci.

Emily: That is very sweet.

*Adam blushed, but it was very true, his greatest dream was to be able to have Lucifer’s babies and now his dream was coming true, Lute then walked into the room*

Adam: What are you wearing?

Lute: You know that mission in Mexico, well the target thought that I was a chupacadupra.

Emily: Chupacabra.

Lute: Whatever, well I had to get creative when the DHORKs agents arrived and I got help from three goats. Though I think I may have accidentally created a cult that is made up of just goats.

Adam: That sounds like so much fun, I miss going on missions sometimes. But then I remember that I will soon be Queen of Hell.

Lute: You will be a wonderful Queen.

Adam: Thank you.

*Adam at this point was eight and a half months pregnant, but then Adam stopped smiling and both women understood why when they saw a wet spot on the sheets*

Adam: Get Luci, my water broke.

*Emily ran frantically to get Lucifer, Lucifer picked up Adam and he opened a portal to the Sloth Ring while Lute, Emily, and Cain stayed so they could keep an eye on Charlie, Adam was thankful that Bel was going to be his doctor for this, Adam was now in the bed waiting on how often the contractions were happening, Lucifer took care of Adam and fed him ice chips*

Adam: In spite of how painful this is, I am excited, because I get to officially meet our babies.

Lucifer: You are doing wonderfully my dove, my lamb.

*Adam smiled, he liked being called dove and lamb by Lucifer, Bel would come every once in a while to check on Adam to see how far along he was*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Stoliz Au

Adam sipped on his coffee out of his "Hell's Greatest Boss" mug as he overlooked Pentagram City. His workers, Lute and Emily were at the conference table trying to figure out ways they could get to the human world.

Adams oldest son Cain sat there on his phone looking very interested in anything that had to do with work.

Here at Adams Angelic Assassination, they started out by protecting sinners. Either from other demons or from angels on extermination day.

Turns out people would pay a pretty penny to have someone on earth killed.

It has been a few years since Adam was cast out of heaven for questioning things. They took his halo and his powers before casting him down.

Lute and Emily didn't want him to be alone in Hell so they willingly fell. Adam reconnected with his son who was homeless at the time.

They all needed money so that's when Adam came up with the idea for his business.

Lute sighed: It's impossible! There is no way to the human releam without our angelic powers.

Emily: It's okay Lute, we'll figure something out.

Adam turned: She's right Lute! And I actually have a plan.

Lute: You do?

Adam: I do. I know of a book and where I can get it. It's our ticket up top.

Yes Adam knew where to get this book, but could he sneak in and out without being noticed.

Emily: How will you get it?

Adam smirked: Leave it to me and my stealth skills.

*Adam scouted out the royal palace, he knew the largest collection of demonic grimoires were housed in the Morningstar palace including one that could take him to Earth, thankfully Adam still had his angel wings so he fly over the gates surrounding the palace, there was a party going on, his eyes went to Lucifer who was off in a corner drinking while Lilith was talking with her friends, Adam’s heart filled with longing over seeing his first love, but Adam was here for a reason and it was to get a spell book, he hid his wings thankful for the all black outfit he took to wearing now that he could use to hide in the shadows, but before he could open the door to Lucifer’s room, he was tackled by a pair of hellhounds who dragged him to Lucifer*

Adam: Shit.

*Lucifer was chugging down a bottle of absinthe when he saw a pair of hellhound guards drag Adam in front of him, Adam had a sheepish smile on his face and he couldn’t help but realize how handsome Adam was, in fact he had a strong desire to pin Adam to the bed and have his way with him since he hadn’t shared a bed with Lilith since Charlie was born*

Hellhound 1: We saw this man trying to sneak into your room.

Hellhound 2: What should we do with him?

Lucifer: I will deal with him myself, don’t tell anyone what you saw.

*the hellhounds handed Adam over to Lucifer and the former angel reluctantly followed Lucifer up to his room, once they were alone Adam became nervous*

Adam: Look, I can explain-

*Adam’s words were cut off when Lucifer kissed him on the lips, Adam found himself returning the kiss enjoying the feeling*

Lucifer: I missed you so much Adam, in more ways than one.

*Adam felt himself getting wet with desire, one of the punishments was they took away Adam’s favorite thing, his dick, before throwing him out of Heaven and now he had a pussy instead much to his annoyance, but now he saw a way to use it to his advantage and it would give him something he had always wanted*

Adam: You realized what you missed out on and now you can have it.

Lucifer: Yes.

*they ended up on the bed, they kissed as they frantically pulled off their clothes down to their underwear, Lucifer rubbed the underwear covered erection against the wet area of Adam’s panties, they pulled off their underwear and Lucifer slid into Adam, Adam had to hold back a moan of pleasure by biting into Lucifer’s shoulder which made Lucifer even more turned on, Adam moved his hips along with Lucifer’s thrusts, after a long and passionate dance on the bed, Adam climaxed and Lucifer cum inside of Adam*

Lucifer: That was amazing, is there a way I could convince you to come around more often.

Adam: Maybe if you let me borrow a grimoire to help me with my new job.

Lucifer: Done, but you must come back to me at least once a month. How about full moon night?

*Lucifer had the grimoire appear in Adam’s hands*

Adam: Sounds perfect to me.

*they both fell asleep, Lucifer holding Adam and Adam holding the grimoire, in the morning Adam had to get dressed and sneak out, but before he could sprout his wings, he fell off the balcony and onto the table which had Lilith having breakfast with her friends.

Adam: Sorry, I fucked your husband….. actually I’m not sorry.

*Adam sprouted his wings and flew off*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[visualtaehyun]

Hello~ um, hope you don't mind the bombardment of sudden notifications from me, but after reading more on your linguistic analysis posts for Love Sea (THANK YOU btw; they're really really adding to my enjoyment of the show and I didn't think I could love the show even more but here we are), it got me thinking of a question I have regarding LITA and Prapai's way of calling Sky.

Mostly I'm wondering if you had any insight about Prapai testing out different ways of addressing Sky at the end of episode 9. The subs say Prapai tests out "Sky krub" and then "nong Sky krub", but it sounds to me like Prapai is saying "khap" the at first and "khrap" the later which sounds distinct to me. Is there a difference? The way the music swells seems to indicate some other meaning, so I'm curious.

I'm also wondering at the implication of Sky asking Prapai to call him "just Sky" in episode 10? I just thought it was interesting since Prapai in ep 9 says "isn't that too curt" about calling Sky just by his name. Also wondering why this request from Sky makes Prapai go feral nearly kiss Sky?

Hope its okay to ask you like this! If its not please feel free to ignore me; I hope you've having a great day! ^w^;;

Ohhhh I hope you realize the monster you've unleashed cause this might get long 😂 Hi though first of all!! Loved reading all your tags in my notifications hehe

My usual disclaimer applies: I'm not a native Thai speaker, just a passionate learner 🙏

First things first: I'll be using screenshots from the Viki version, simply because I highly recommend re-watching the show with those subs for all who have a base level understanding of there being different levels of speech, pronouns, particles etc. in Thai. Back when LITA got re-released on Viki with weekly episodes all over again, my Thai was still in its baby shoes lol but since I was actively following the main cast at the time, I therefore followed a handful of fan translators on twitter too! One of them, midknightmoodz, still translates for BossNoeul's fandoms to this day, has been involved in several Thai BL sub teams on Viki, and got to be the translation editor for LITA's re-release on Viki. Her subs therefore give a little more insight where possible and, as a fan herself, come from a place of wanting interfans to gain a better understanding of some of the intricacies of the language used. Long story short- if the subs look unfamiliar, it's because they're the Viki ones!

If my pre-explanation already got this lengthy then... 🤡

Color-coded for ease of understanding: Prapai, Sky, Plerng, Rain, particles

Pai testing out ways to call Sky

I'll try to faithfully transcribe the way he pronounces the particles but only for this scene here because it establishes a lot of things about how Pai thinks and acts:

สกาย สกาย = Sky... Sky. ห้วนไปไหมวะ สกายคับ¹ น้องสกายค้าบ² /huaan bpai mai wa? Sky khap. Nong Sky khaap/ = Is it too curt? Sky¹. Nong Sky². มันขาดอะไรไปอย่าง น้องสกายครับ³ /man khaat a rai bpai yaang. Nong Sky khrap/ = It's missing something. Nong Sky³.

¹สกายคับ /Sky khap/ This is a pretty standard informal pronunciation of the polite particle ครับ /khrap/. Without it, he feels like he sounds too brusque, the addition of it makes him sound more polite, formal, sweet and honestly pretty flirty!

When they first meet, Pai defaults to informal พี่/น้อง /phi, nong/, since Pai is older and Sky clearly younger, and he uses typically masculine polite particle ครับ /khrap/ A Lot already. We know he's a huge flirt and sleeps around a lot so none of this is surprising to me lol

In the scene after the freshie orientation thing, the contrast to how Pai and Rain talk to each other really puts Pai's use of ครับ /khrap/ with Sky into perspective lol He does not use it with Rain, of course. If my boy wasn't such a walnut, Rain would've clocked right away that Pai is intent on pursuing Sky! Because using ครับ /khrap/ so much when addressing him, makes Pai sound flirty-sweet.

Back to the differences you correctly heard between the ways to pronounce this particle though!

²น้องสกายค้าบ /Nong Sky khaap/ The emphasis on elongating the vowel, the sweet tone of voice, the more endearing น้อง /nong/ + name? This man is laying it on thick lol In ep.10 especially, you'll hear him speak this sweetly and อ้อน /aon/-ing Sky a lot!

In the following scene at Sky's dorm, Pai actually already starts calling Sky น้องสกาย /nong Sky/:

แล้วชัดพอไหมครับ น้องสกาย /laaeo chat paaw mai khrap, nong Sky?/ ชัดพอครับ ว่าพี่ตั้งใจจะมาจีบน้องสกาย หือ /chat paaw khrap? waa phi dtang jai ja maa jeep nong Sky? heu?/ = Is it clear enough? That I intend to be pursuing you? Hm?

Crystal clear 🫠

At the beginning of ep.9, we see Pai getting feedback from his younger siblings re: just "name" vs. Nong "name" and the effect he intends it to have:

- เพลิง = Plerng. - ครับ /khrap?/ = Yes? - น้องเพลิง เรียกนี้เขินไหม /nong Plerng. riiak nee, kheern mai?/ = Nong Plerng. Does calling you that make you feel shy/fluster you? - ถ้าเป็นพี่พายก็ไม่อะ /thaa bpen phi Pai gor mai a/ = If it's you, then nah.

Many of Pai's moves are intended to make Sky shy or get his heart racing. He keeps saying so too, for example here in ep.10 after 'claiming ownership' via the wind symbol:

นี่พี่ทำขนาดนี้แล้วเนี่ย ไม่เขินบ้างเลยหรอครับ /nee phi tham kha-naat nee laaeo niia, mai kheern baang loei raaw khrap?/

³น้องสกายครับ /nong Sky khrap/ This last one is pronounced really properly and clearly, you can hear the rolled ร /r/ in there. It's giving well-mannered or gentleman, basically. This guy is really bringing his A-game, trying to prove to Sky that he's serious about him! And can you believe this utter simp? Playing dress-up, practicing in front of the mirror, testing it out again on his little brother- only to what? Go ambush his crush at his dorm to take him out for a meal during which he talks a mile a minute 😂

Sky asking to be called "just Sky"

Again giving you the entire exchange first, as faithfully as everything's being said:

- พี่พายเลิกเรียกผมว่า น้องสกาย ได้ไหม /phi Pai leerk riiak pom waa "nong Sky" dai mai?/ = Could you stop calling me "Nong Sky"? - แล้วให้เรียกว่าอะไรอะ /laaeo hai riiak waa a rai a?/ = Then what would you have me call you? - สกายก็ได้ กาย⁴เฉย ๆ ก็ได้ /Sky gor dai. gaai/Ky⁴ choei choei gor dai/ = Sky is fine. Just 'Ky⁴ is fine too. ขอแค่ไม่มีคำว่าน้องอะ ฟังแล้วตอแหล⁵ /khaaw khaae mai mee kham waa nong a. fang laaeo dtaaw-laae⁵/ = Just please not the word "nong". Sounds like bullshit.⁵ - สกาย สกายค้าบ² /Sky. Sky khaap²/ = Sky. Sky.²

⁴กาย /gaai/ or /Ky/ Sky's name is สกาย /sa-gaai/ in Thai but among his friends, they mostly all just call him กาย /Ky/ or ไอ้กาย /ai'Ky/. That's clearly too casual for our resident sweet-talker though lol

⁵ตอแหล /dtaaw-laae/ This is a bit of a rude colloquial expression akin to 'bullshit', meaning- being deceitful, pretentious, lying, insincere, duplicitous, fake etc.

It actually comes up once before in this episode when Pai swears he only had 3 hookups after he met Sky lol:

พี่สาบานเลยว่าพี่ไม่ตอแหล /phi saa-baan loei waa phi mai dtaaw-laae/

Pai doesn't always call Sky น้องสกาย /nong Sky/ before Sky asks him not to, though. And the moments he doesn't, honestly go to show that Pai's aware of how that's mostly an act to get Sky to fall for him or at least get him flustered. It does sound fake!

When Pai accidentally triggers Sky by saying "Love makes me blind" in ep.9, he pulls him back out by calling him just สกาย /Sky/:

Same again after being on the phone with Rain and rushing to Sky's dorm:

สกายอยู่ไหน /Sky yuu nai?/

And again while looking after Sky:

สกายจะคิดนะ ว่าพี่ต้องการแค่เซ็กซ์ /Sky ja khit na waa phi dtaawng gaan khaae sex/

His other fallback is the pronoun เรา /rao/, and not just with Sky. Bit of a tangent but- before the freshie orientation thing where he hands Rain that useless coffee receipt lol Pai and Rain talk a bit differently to each other.

Between these two instances, Rain becomes more chill and casual, going from constant ครับ /khrap/'s to only using it when strictly required (whenever you'd ไหว้ /wai/ 🙏 basically lol so hello/bye/thanks/etc.), and Pai goes from calling him เรา /rao/ to just เรน /Rain/. The pronoun เรา /rao/ as a 2nd pers. pronoun is used by people more senior/older to refer to someone younger, it can both be endearing as well as come across as treating someone like a little kid, depending on context.

And this little pronoun is exactly what Pai sometimes switches to, here in ep.9 with Rain for example:

พี่สัญญาว่าจะไม่ทำอะไรเพื่อนเรา /phi san-yaa waa ja mai tham a rai pheuuan rao/

And in ep.10 with Sky as well:

เมื่อคืนเราไข้สูงที่พี่เกือบพาไปโรงบาลอีกรอบแล้วนะ /meuua kheuun, rao khai suung thee phi geuuap phaa bpai rohng baan eek raawp laaeo na/ ใช่ครับ พี่อยากพาเรามาเดท /chai khrap, phi yaak phaa rao maa date/

As you can see, it mostly comes up when he gets serious. Being the eldest sibling, I guess he can never quite turn off that caretaker mode (or maybe it's his factory setting?).

Circling all the way back 🥴

²สกายค้าบ /Sky khaap/ Here he goes again: full-force puppy eyes, sweet voice, long vowel on the particle, leaning in as if to kiss him- he's trying to tease and fluster Sky again. And this time? Ohoho, the evidence is unmistakable!

I wouldn't necessarily say this request drove Pai wild lol it's more how this scene so nicely mirrors the first meal they shared in ep.9 where Pai shared all the most important info about himself against Sky's will 😂 Whereas here Sky is the one asking questions, engaging, showing interest- he's finally opening up to Pai :>

สกายของพี่ /Sky khaawng phi/

Hope my rambles made at least some sense but I'll gladly answer any follow-up questions~ Thanks for giving me an excuse to re-watch some LITA and thanks for reading ✨

[shirefantasies]

hi, feeling nervous to ask so I’m sending this anon

If you haven’t already, could you do a hurt/comfort imagine? Like YN is hurt, either from a fight, ptsd, poor health etc, and imagine the types of comfort?

thank youu 💜

Sure! Since no character was mentioned I chose one and went a mental health route, hope that's ok! A comfort character fr though 🥺

Safe Right Here- Faramir x F!Reader (Drabble)

Warnings: angst (with comfort), past emotional abuse, mentions of self-destructive thoughts

One word. One word was all it took sometimes. A single phrase could push one off the precipice of memory. A chasm dark and inescapable, deep as life and death and everything in between. Such was it that when you fell, you wondered why you had ever been alive in the first place. Why one who failed to earn love was cruelly thrust into a world she was so unfit for. Why being called a maker of twisted, idiotic mistakes felt so akin to being dubbed the mistake itself.

So many things seemed to come naturally for all but you. Behaviors and unspoken rules. You needed them spoken, and when they were it was often done mockingly or in annoyance. Perhaps they were right- you simply were a burden.

"What is wrong?"

"N-nothing," you stammered, realizing how foolish you must have looked with tears pouring down your reddened face, "Nothing that matters."

"It matters," Faramir replied, kneeling at your side, "If it is bothering you. It matters to you. And it matters to me.”

Something about his emphasis, the way Faramir could speak so firmly in confidence and yet so softly, broke you. Was it foolish to hear love in his words? Perhaps, and yet there you were collapsing into his arms.

“Why? Why am I so wrong?” You sobbed.

“Wrong?” Faramir tilted his head, stubble shifting along the top of your head with a light scratch. “Wrong about what?”

“About nothing. I am just wrong,” you breathed, chest heaving with each attempt to speak, “I have nothing to show for myself. No family, no work to take pride in. Nothing complete to my name and no understanding of it all. Everything is so difficult for me. Why was I even born?”

Warmth fell upon you. New warmth beyond the tight hold of Faramir’s arms, the smells of woods and smoke clinging to the fabric and leather that embraced you. Moisture. Tears tumbled from Faramir’s blue eyes, ephemeral diamonds adorning the crown of your head. Diamonds of pure sorrow. A fitting crown indeed.

“My heart shatters to even hear you speak these words, but I confess I have spoken them too. Whispered them into the darkness in many a solitary moment,” Faramir admitted, arms winding even tighter, “But to hear them like this, coming from the lips of one so sweet? I may not be able to convince you, but they are lies. Poisonous lies.”

“They feel so real.”

“Right up until they destroy you,” Faramir agreed, his head resting over yours, “I almost threw my life away because of them but I know it would be true forfeit to see you do the same. My brother would not have wished this life for me. For you. Those who love you would feel the pain of that loss every day of their remaining lives.”

“Who-”

“I love you,” he cut you off, offering a knowing smile as compensation.

“And I you,” you replied softly, nuzzling closer until his words sunk fully in, giving you pause, “Wait, you almost…?”

“Yes. For Gondor. And perhaps a bit for myself, too.”

“Anything to give them what they want and see if the tang of blood takes the poison from their mouths. But you are kind, you are wise. You are enough.”

Faramir nodded, lightly scratching your head again. Your heart warmed, spreading through your body even against the cold stone floor on which you sat.

“And here I thought I was comforting you,” Faramir chuckled, a deep sound reverberating against your joined chests.

“See how well you’ve done?” You half-chuckled, half-sobbed, giving your first tentative smile. “It is easier when you are here. The rest fades.”

Kissing the top of your head lightly, Faramir circled a hand over your back, faint pressure bringing tingles down your spine. Sensation that drowned out the buzzing cries of your head.

“You are safe with me. Safe right here,” he affirmed.

Exhaling more tension, you tightened your grip, fingers flexing against his doublet.

“Together we can find the power to make the world of our dreams one day at a time,” Faramir told you, “One day after another I will remind you you have a safe home in my arms. Let me be your shield.”

“And let me be your armor,” you murmured, finally relaxing fully into his embrace.

“Armor,” Faramir echoed with a smile, “Forged perfectly for each other. I like that. Perfect for one at least, for you suit me just as you are.”

This time he tilted your chin, lifting your teary gaze to meet his and your head to nod before he pulled you in for a gentle kiss upon your lips.

“Nothing more,” he whispered, “Nothing less.”

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[danielmolloystits]

looks just like an angel (Armand/Daniel, 1/1)

Summary:

The man in the chair—who Daniel assumes must be the priest, judging by his black button-down and white collar—looks up and smiles as he enters, all gleaming white teeth like one of those ads for toothpaste that four out of five dentists recommend. He has deep skin and dark, curly hair that he keeps having to brush away from his brown eyes. “Hello,” the priests greets him. “Welcome.” “Um,” Daniel says. “Hi.” — The drug den Daniel wakes up in after his encounter with Louis and Armand gets busted, and Armand decides to pretend to be the priest at his court-ordered N.A. meetings. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Pairing: M/M, Armand/Daniel Molloy (Devil's Minion) Rating: E WC: 5,555

It’s 9:52 in the morning. Daniel’s mouth tastes like he ate roadkill for breakfast and his head is pounding so loud he wants to tell it to come back with a warrant. Across from him sits his probation officer, whose name he’s pretty sure is Sarah, wielding a kind expression and a notepad that contains a quick summary of Daniel’s many sins.

So far, he likes Sarah. Sarah is nice. Sarah is telling him how she’s going to get him through this without it destroying his entire life. Well, she hasn’t used those precise words, exactly, but Daniel has been able to glean the gist of it—she’s been saying things like “first offense” and “dismiss the charges” and it has all vaguely sounded like it might not screw everything up for him forever.

So that’s something, at least.

“Of course, pretrial diversion does come with some requirements on your end,” Probably-Sarah is saying, with a look of what appears to be genuine concern on her face. Maybe she’s a good liar, but Daniel thinks there’s a chance she actually cares about the dumb hungover kid who’s half-sitting, half-melting in her office chair. “You’ll need to start attending NA—Narcotics Anonymous, that is—and we’re going to administer periodic drug tests to make sure you’re keeping clean.”

Christ, he’s such an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot who’s just lucky to not be dead right now. His innards churn miserably in agreement with that thought, and Daniel hopes that they’re at the tail end of this pretrial check-in thingy. He really doesn’t want to throw up on this nice lady’s carpet.

Sarah continues, “But if you hold up your end of the bargain, then I’ll hold up mine.” She smiles at him, apparently oblivious to the imminently-threatening hostage situation that is Daniel’s stomach right now. It’s kind of sweet, though; she looks like she really believes he’s gonna make it through this program. Like she thinks he could maybe be somebody someday.

A bright young reporter with a point of view.

“And if all goes well, then after your probationary period is up, you’ll never have to see me again.” She tilts her head at him, and sure, it’s condescending. But, like, in the nice way moms are sometimes. “Let’s try to make sure that happens, yeah?” She passes him a stack of papers that repeat all of the information she just gave him verbally, which Daniel is grateful for, because it’s been challenging to try to pay attention when his insides are so valiantly attempting to become his outsides. “I’ll see you two weeks from now.”

Daniel nods and hurries out of the room, right as the hostage situation devolves into a massacre with no survivors. He swallows against the gastric acid and bits of egg that are currently attempting to escape his throat and rushes to the single-stall bathroom down the hall, sending a prayer of thanks to every higher power he can think of that it’s unoccupied. By some small miracle, he manages to keep his shit together until he is on his knees in front of the toilet, at which point everything he’s put in his body for the past week unceremoniously comes back out.

Idly, he wonders how many public bathrooms he’s done this in by now, how many times he has been in this same stupid situation—his mouth and nose hovering above a filthy fucking toilet seat that’s touched the asses of God knows how many strangers—as the choices from the night before come back to haunt him like an ex-lover after a bad breakup.

Too many, he thinks. Definitely too many.

He looks down at where the informational materials are still crumpled in his left fist, pastel-colored pamphlets with titles like Self-Acceptance and Am I An Addict?, and thinks he could probably use a break from living like this. Thinks maybe this won’t be such a bad thing if it leads to him finally getting clean.

After all, it sure as hell can’t get any worse.

***

Two nights later, Daniel arrives at the church closest to where he’s staying in the Castro, which the Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous pamphlet told him hosts meetings three nights a week. Our Lady of Most Holy and Ardent Redemptions, or whatever. He doesn’t actually remember, but he’s sure it was something like that: all overwrought and Catholic, a name that’s meant to imply you have to absolve yourself for the crime of being born.

As he walks through the vestibule, he’s surprised to find it utterly abandoned, blanketed in a thick layer of silence that clings to the dusty pews and eggshell-colored walls like a film. It’s eerie, almost, this conspicuous absence of life—if it weren’t for the printed-out sign attached to the back of the pulpit that reads NA meeting downstairs in Rosary Room!, he’d assume he’d gone to the wrong place entirely. As it is, he wanders around the nave with a vague sense of unease until he finds the stairs to the basement, then follows the unsettlingly-cheery instructions of yet more signs until he reaches one that says NA Meeting here!!! taped to a mahogany door.

For a moment, he has the absurd impulse to knock, as if he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be. He shakes himself out of it and opens the door.

Inside, there isn’t much to look at: a handful of low bookshelves pressed snugly against the wall, a long table with a coffee pot and an unopened box of donuts, and seven or eight folding chairs arranged in a circle.

Only one of them is occupied.

The man in the chair—who Daniel assumes must be the priest, judging by his black button-down and white collar—looks up and smiles as he enters, all gleaming white teeth like one of those ads for toothpaste that four out of five dentists recommend. He has deep skin and dark, curly hair that he keeps having to brush away from his brown eyes.

“Hello,” the priests greets him. “Welcome.”

“Um,” Daniel says. “Hi.”

“It would seem you are our only attendee for this evening.” A sheepish little laugh rumbles out from the priest’s chest as he adds, “I suppose sobriety is not so much in vogue these days.” He has an accent, Daniel notes, like maybe he emigrated from England but was somewhere else before that. The way it squeezes around his vowels is dimly familiar.

“Guess not,” Daniel agrees, casting a sideways glance at all of the empty chairs. The poor attendance doesn’t bode great for the overall well-being of the Castro’s citizenry, he reckons; it’s certainly not because they don’t need to be here. “Isn’t NA supposed to be group therapy? Is it still gonna...work?”

The priest chuckles softly again, a light exhalation of air to break the stillness in the room. “Yes, though it appears our session will perhaps be a touch more intimate than most. I hope you don’t mind a bit of individualized attention.” His eyes sparkle, almost seem to shine, as he gestures for Daniel to take the seat across from him. “Please, sit. I’m Father Armand.”

He does. “Daniel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Daniel,” Father Armand says sweetly, and wow, he has really thick eyelashes. So thick and dark that Daniel wonders briefly whether he’s wearing mascara—though he isn’t sure whether priests are allowed to do that. “What brings you to Narcotics Anonymous?”

“Um.” He stutters, flushed and awkward with the weight of Father Armand’s undivided attention. “This is the part where I’m supposed to say I’m an addict, right?”

“It’s just us, Daniel,” the other man replies, in a low and conspiratorial whisper. Like the two of them are getting away with something, like this is a part of an inside joke they’ve shared for years. “You may say whatever you’d like.”

“What if I don’t want to say anything?”

“That’s fine, too,” Father Armand answers easily, a reassuring smile on his face. “Though we might not make much progress on the issues that brought you here if we sit in silence.”

“Fair enough,” Daniel says. “All right, I guess I’m here because a court ordered it. I’d really rather not be.”

“This is not the outcome you’d have wanted, then, but perhaps it is the one you need.” And, warm and friendly as he is trying to be, the priest’s stare seems to cut straight through him, right down to the ugly things inside him that he endeavors to hide. It is wildly discomforting. “An intervention from a higher power, of sorts.”

“Not how I’d put it, personally,” Daniel says, simultaneously bemused and on-edge. He scratches an itch on his forehead. “More like an intervention from the SFPD.”

“Even the SFPD answers to God, Daniel.”

“O-kay.” Unsurprisingly, the fatalistic religious bullshit is not doing much to set Daniel at ease in this situation. “But yeah. I’m, uh. Here because I got busted. In a drug den.”

“What were you doing in a drug den?”

“Well.” Daniel blinks at him. “Drugs, mostly.”

“Yes, that much is obvious,” Father Armand says, waving a gloved hand dismissively. “But what compelled you to the drug den in the first place?” Then, before Daniel can answer, he continues, “Don’t say ‘drugs’ again.”

Daniel was definitely about to say ‘drugs’ again. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for here, man,” he answers instead, shrugging one shoulder noncommittally. “I like getting high. Not a lot more to it.”

“There’s always more to it,” the priest replies, sage-like and frustratingly stoic. “Whether we want to admit to it or not.”

“Orrr,” he drawls the single syllable out sarcastically, “maybe it’s just not worth telling. I was there because I wanted to do drugs and I got caught, dude.”

Father Armand hums thoughtfully. “Surely something in the evening must have led you there, though.”

“I don’t really remember,” Daniel says, and he’s maybe starting to lose his patience a little. “Probably on account of being radically high.”

“You can’t recall anything about the evening other than its conclusion?” In the dim lighting of the basement, the priest’s expression is difficult to read.

He frowns. “I might’ve met a guy at a bar, before. I think I was at Polynesian Mary’s, maybe?”

“Do you meet guys at bars often, Daniel?”

Immediately, he tenses, a frisson of indignation alighting in his gut at the priest’s thinly-veiled judgment.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He probably should’ve known better than to expect anything approaching compassion or understanding from the Catholic fucking Church. Lesson learned for next time—maybe the Episcopalians are running NA somewhere in the city.

“I meant no offense, Daniel,” Father Armand says, voice calm and composed in stark contrast to Daniel’s rising indignation. “I’m just inquiring as to your habits, to get a sense of where you could benefit from some lifestyle changes.”

“Oh, and I’m sure whatever you think I’m doing with these men is high on that list, right? This is the Castro, dude. Fuck you.”

“You have quite a lot of anger,” the priest comments dryly, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as though he’s inspecting Daniel. “Is that what drives you to use?”

Is that what makes you fascinating?

“No, seriously, dude: fuck you. I’m not putting up with this shit.” He stands to leave, but Father Armand reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can, his grip unexpectedly steely.

“A reminder, Daniel, that your participation in this process is necessary if you wish to avoid jail time,” he says, still smiling that same, infuriating smile.

Daniel stops in his tracks. “Maybe not. I’ll work something out with my P.O., I’ll–”

“Yes, Sarah, was it?” Father Armand asks. “I wonder how she would react to news of your resistance to the process.”

“You–”

“I’m only here to help, Daniel,” the priest interrupts with an infuriatingly placid smile. “Now, are you intending to cooperate, or shall I go ahead and inform Sarah of your refusal to participate?” He gestures once more for Daniel to sit, his expression replete with a cool smugness. Begrudgingly, Daniel complies.

“Fucking—whatever, fine.” He closes his eyes and exhales noisily through his nose, trying to will himself into a state of calm. When he opens them again, the priest is staring at him expectantly. “I guess I use because I...I get bored.”

“Bored of what?”

“I dunno, dude.” He shrugs. “Sobriety. Life. Everything.”

Father Armand leans in even closer. “Interesting.”

“If you say so, man.” Daniel rolls his eyes. “Mostly it’s just tedious. I mean, all of it.”

“How so?” There is nothing but apparent sincerity in the question, which makes Daniel’s shoulders relax a fraction.

“It’s the same shit every day, isn’t it? Wake up, go to work, eat dinner, watch TV, over and over until you die,” he says, and the priest nods along as he speaks attentively. “At least drugs break up the monotony a little.”

The unnamed malaise you feel on Sunday afternoons.

“Sure,” Father Armand agrees breezily, his eyes never straying from Daniel’s. “If you do them once in a while, maybe. But they’ve become part of your routine, haven’t they?”

Daniel crosses his arms belligerently. “You don’t know me, man. You’re not my fuckin’ friend.”

“I’m not here to be your friend, Daniel,” Father Armand replies, tone clipped and succinct; annoyed, almost. But then, more delicately, he adds, “I’m here to help you get better. The first step is admitting you have a problem, no?”

“I guess.” Daniel slumps back in his seat, running a hand over his face in exasperation. “All right, so let’s say I have a problem. What next?”

“The next step is coming to believe in a power greater than yourself.” The priest’s hands are clasped together, his thumbs twiddling idly as he speaks, “One that is capable of delivering you from your illness.”

“So, what,” Daniel deadpans. “I’ve gotta convert to Catholicism?”

“If you’re so inclined,” Father Armand responds wryly, as if he’s privy to some great secret that eludes the poor, ailing addict. Daniel wonders in that moment how old the other man is. He can’t have too many years on Daniel, surely, but he seems so much older that it’s almost a little unnerving. “However, it could be anything, really; your love for your family, your will to live. It could even be me, if you wanted.”

He says it like it’s meant to be another bad joke, but something about it brings Daniel up short. Like he’s not really joking at all, actually. “You could be my higher power?” he asks flatly, unsettled and using a fair amount of bluster to cover it. “Isn’t that sort of sacrilegious?”

“I’m not suggesting you pray to me; I’m suggesting you allow me to carry some of the pain that troubles you. To share in the weight of the dreary mundanities that lead you to use.” The priest’s eyes bore into his, his tone soft and reassuring. “I assure you, Daniel, God will have nothing to say about it.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Father Armand smiles. “I want to help you. Is that so difficult to believe?”

And it is, really. But despite his misgivings—practically against his will—a sense of calm washes over Daniel at the sound of the priest’s voice; the crash of a wave lapping gently at a shoreline, soothing the impotent swell of restless irritation that has been building inside of him since he first sat down. All of that rage, those years and years of tiresome anger, snuffed out as easily as the flickering light of a candle. With nothing more than a few words, Father Armand has taken the heft of that burden from him, as effortlessly as if Daniel had handed it over to him willingly.

Rest, now.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much after all, he thinks—putting the confusing knot of chaos inside of him into someone else’s hands. Maybe it would be nice to give his will over to something greater than himself.

“Okay,” Daniel hears himself saying, as though from a great distance. He’s hardly even aware he’s speaking. “Okay. It can be you.”

Rest.

Father Armand beams at him then, and Daniel realizes for the first time how beautiful he is; he looks just like an angel in a Renaissance painting, like a portrait of a martyred saint. His eyes seem less brown, now, closer to the rich and vibrant glow of an ember. Of course Daniel can trust him. Of course.

“Excellent,” he says, and his hands extend to clasp around one of Daniel’s. The leather over his skin is cold. “You are safe with me, Daniel.”

Rest.

Mutely, Daniel nods. The part of him that wishes to object is so quickly subdued, as if smothered by an insistent hand.

“Now,” Father Armand begins, the dingy gold of the basement lights glistening off of his teeth, “you’re going to tell me about what happened before the drug den. What do you remember, Daniel?”

I’m the quiet you’ve been longing for.

As the unspoken words pierce through the veil of his cognition, Daniel jerks like a sleeper agent awakened. In between one moment and the next, his mind is inundated with lurid images of an apartment, the apartment he was in before he wound up in the den: a man—if he can even be called a man—who looks so much like the priest is hovering over Daniel, whispering devastating kindnesses into his ear until the fight slowly drains from his body. He tries to hold onto the shape of them, to remember what it was that happened, but the flashes slip through his fingers as easily as soap bubbles off of a dinner plate. As he reaches for them, grasps at them, a pressure builds in the base of his skull like a low roll of thunder, and a scream tears through his shaking body. He cannot hear it over the ringing in his ears, but he can feel it, feel it rattle his chest and reverberate in his bones. It is agony, unending and complete. It is torture.

The only comfort through all of it is the weight of Father Armand’s hand around his own.

“It hurts,” Daniel whines, instinctively trying to shy away from the throbbing fissure in his head by leaning further into Father Armand’s touch. Tears prick the corners of his eyes like pins.

“Does it?” the priest asks, voice steady and still like the face of a mountain. “Good. Pain is your body’s way of telling you to avoid something. If it hurts, move away from it.”

Daniel sobs, and the next thing he knows he is on the ground, having fallen off of his chair; the hard press of the floor underneath him is the only thing holding him up. “Please,” he begs, not really sure what it is he’s asking for.

A cool finger crooks under his chin to tilt his head up. Through his swimming vision, Daniel sees Father Armand looking down at him. “Do you want me to make it stop?”

“Yes,” he breathes, his body curling up into the fetal position like a dying cockroach. “Please.”

The priest frowns, dispassionate. “What would you do for it? What would you give?”

I could be on my knees in a second.

Another burst of pain blossoms underneath Daniel’s eyes and he winces, cries out. “Anything,” he promises, his fingers reaching out to clutch at the leg of Father Armand’s trousers. “I’d give anything.”

“Would you give me money, Daniel?”

He nods enthusiastically even as the motion of it only exacerbates his anguish. “Yeah,” he says, “everything I have.”

“Hmm,” the priest hums. His expression as he watches Daniel is calculating, frigid. Slowly, he lifts one Doc Marten-booted foot to rest on Daniel’s chest. “Would you give me your obedience?”

Instinctively, Daniel’s spine straightens under the weight of his heel, the firm way it presses down on him a strange but poignant comfort in his addled state. The feeling it grants him is not quite relief, but it is something adjacent to it, something that loosens the tightly-wound tangle of anxiety that squeezes his lungs. He craves more of it. “Yes.”

“Yes what, Daniel?”

He swallows roughly. “Yes, Father.”

Lowly, the priest murmurs, “Good boy.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, his gaze growing half-lidded and hungry. “Ask me what you can do for me, Daniel.”

A shudder runs through him, sharp and electric. His mouth tastes of ozone. “What can I do for you, Father?”

The priest grins at him, then, wicked and predatory. “Worship me.”

The words echo around Daniel’s mind like a hollow room, silencing all other thought. Silencing the terrible cacophony that has been threatening to rend his very self in two. He squirms with the ecstasy of it—the unparalleled bliss of reprieve—mewling his acquiescence to the priest’s demand.

He can feel Father Armand’s pleasure at his submission trickling like a leaky faucet down his spine. “Do you feel that, Daniel?” he asks, as calmly as if he were asking about the weather.

Tears are still streaming down Daniel’s cheeks; his nose is stuffed and snotty from crying. “Yes, Father,” he croaks.

“That is solace, my dear boy,” the priest tells him, unwavering and impassive. “I have given it to you, and I can take it away from you just as easily.”

At the thought of the pain returning, a fierce panic slices through Daniel, hot and pointed as a knife in his guts. “No,” he moans, his bottom lip quivering as he stares at Father Armand. “Please don’t.”

The boot presses down harder, pinning him to the yellowed carpet. “You forget yourself, Daniel,” the priest replies.

He whimpers and corrects himself: “Please don’t, Father.”

“That’s better,” Father Armand says with a mean twist of his lips. “Tell me: where is your place?”

And Daniel has played this role before, knows the script by heart. Could recite it in his sleep if he had to. “Beneath you, Father.”

The priest grinds his heel into Daniel’s sternum, then, wrenching a pitiful cry from between the boy’s lips. It hurts, of course, but in a different way than before; this isn’t the horror of his soul being cracked in half and poured over the ground. This is a familiar pain, a welcome one, one that Daniel arches up into like a cat stretching its back.

“Do you like that, Daniel?” Father Armand asks, a trace of amusement coloring his voice. “Do you like it when I hurt you?”

Wordlessly, Daniel nods, because he does. He always has. He’s always pining to feel something, anything. Whatever it takes if it means not being bored.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” Daniel wheezes, forcing the words out from underneath the weight on his chest. “I like when you hurt me, Father.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” the priest purrs, half-aroused and half-contemptuous.

“Yes.” Daniel hisses, his fingers clawing into the carpet as his body curves to accommodate—to seek out—the press of Father Armand’s heavy boot. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, that he wants this after everything that’s happened today (the past week, some distant part of his mind whispers), but he does. Maybe he simply craves the release of oblivion after teetering over the edge of it. “Yes, Father.”

“I could make you feel good, too. If I felt like it.” He lifts his foot a fraction of an inch, enough to make Daniel’s lungs expand gratefully where they’ve been compressed. Then, slowly, he drags the toe of his boot down, down, down to where the boy is hard and aching in his jeans. He runs his instep along the shameful bulge that presses against Daniel’s zipper, pressing just lightly enough to tease. To threaten. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Daniel moans, a needful, pathetic little sound that makes Father Armand snarl. “I do, Father.”

“Do you think you deserve that, Daniel?” His boot pushes down a bit harder, and Daniel writhes into it, gasps at the delicious torment of the priest’s brutality.

“No, Father.”

“Beg for it, then.” Even though Daniel’s eyes are screwed shut, he can feel the burning weight of the other man’s stare boring into him. His boot steps harder still. “Beg for me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Daniel wants to reply, knows that he needs to reply, but he can’t; his mouth is too occupied with crying out, held captive as he is in a state of delirium.

“Pathetic,” Father Armand spits at him. “Must I speak for you now, too?”

He can do nothing more than nod, than accept the fate he has been dealt at the hands of this cruel master.

“You want me to fuck you.” It isn’t a question; rather, the priest speaks flatly, clinically, down at the boy he has pinned. “You want me to bury my tongue in your ass until your voice gives out from screaming and then fill you to the point of breaking, is that right?”

The words are torn directly from Daniel’s thoughts as though Father Armand heard them uttered aloud. As though he can read the twisted desires playing on repeat in Daniel’s mind as plainly as thumbing through a children’s picture book. The noise Daniel makes isn’t so much language as one of desperation distilled.

The boot lifts off of his chest, suddenly. “Stand.”

Daniel does, albeit slowly and on shaky legs that threaten to buckle from underneath him.

Father Armand smiles. “Good boy.” He gestures with his chin in the direction of the table, still covered in untouched donuts and cold coffee. “Bend over. And drop your pants.”

Sweating and trembling, Daniel feels more of a mess now than he did the day he awoke from his bender. Like the screws holding him together have been loosened and he is the lightest touch away from falling to pieces. Nevertheless, he complies, bracing himself on his elbows as he awaits further instruction.

“You’ve been insolent,” Father Armand comments as he slowly comes to stand behind Daniel. He runs the fingertips of one gloved hand over the swell of the boy’s ass. “Don’t you think you deserve to be disciplined for that?”

And Daniel is still beyond the point of language, so all he can manage is a thin, reedy little moan. Internally, he is only capable of thinking the word please on a recursive loop.

There’s a rush of air, then, followed by the sharp sting of Father Armand’s leather-covered palm striking one cheek. Daniel sucks in a harsh breath, an involuntary inhalation somewhere between a hiccup and a gasp. He gets almost no break before he is being hit again, then again, over and over until he can feel the blood rising to the skin from the burst capillaries. Almost as if from another room, he can hear himself crying out. Although the soles of his feet are rooted to the church carpet, he feels as though his consciousness has abandoned his body to wander elsewhere. The pain is practically transcendent in its savage persistence, the only thing anchoring him to this material plane the rhythmic pulse of the blood rushing to his cock.

Father Armand is relentless, and Daniel wonders whether he is going to be punished past the point where he can no longer withstand it. Until suddenly, the abuse stops, and the priest instead permits his cool fingers to trace over the damaged skin. His touch is surprisingly gentle, laced with a fragile sort of reverence; Daniel can hear the rustling of fabric as the priest crouches down, as if seeking out a better angle from which to admire his own handiwork.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, spreading Daniel’s ass open, the word ghosting feather-light over the sensitive flesh. Daniel whines, restless with the effort of keeping himself still against the overwhelming urge to arch into the contact. “What a beautiful little thing you are.”

The praise wrenches a strangled cry from Daniel’s throat, wanton and depraved. He wishes he still possessed the ability to speak, wishes he could beg for Father Armand to please, please fuck him now. Beg the priest to make him full, to try and satisfy the yearning cavern inside of him.

He’d do anything to not be so fucking hungry.

The priest laughs as though he knows precisely what Daniel is thinking and then, with no warning, he is blowing a teasing breath over Daniel’s hole.

The boy nearly screams, his mind still running on the frantic hamster wheel of please, please, please, please, please—

Father Armand interrupts that train of thought by dragging the flat of his tongue over the skin that his breath just kissed, carefully unraveling what little remains of Daniel’s sentience until all that is left in its place is a moaning, bestial creature. A thing composed entirely of impulse, the only thing he understands at this point being what it means to want.

Instinctively, Daniel tries to grind back into the sensation, but the priest does not allow it, his leather-clad hold on Daniel wrought in immovable iron. At the denial, Daniel merely whimpers, no longer able to beg with anything other than his body and sincerely running the risk of going mad with need.

Patience, Daniel, he hears Father Armand admonish, as if from a stereo system inside of his head while the priest licks over him once more. He doesn’t even question it, really, content to assume that the universe is fracturing around him and that reality itself is simply splintering. It certainly feels that way, with how Father Armand’s tongue writes filthy love poems into his skin, with how he fucks into Daniel just enough to torture.

It is not unlike he is drowning, stranded in the middle of a vast ocean and being pulled under by the grasping appendages of the monsters below. He is overcome with a pleasure too fathomless to name, one that threatens to steal the air from his lungs and fill them with something more volatile and fluid. It’s exquisite. He needs it to stop. He never wants it to stop.

Again, Daniel hears the priest’s voice inside of his mind. So very needy, aren’t you? Filled to the brim with unrealized desire, aching for anything that might scratch the persistent itch deep within you.

The words seem to strip him bare, to peel back his skin and the viscera that holds him together until all of his nerves are exposed to Father Armand’s touch. At this point, he is cognizant only of the places where the two of them connect, the world zeroed in like a pinhole on the press of the priest’s tongue against his ass. He has no self outside of this point of contact, he thinks, and he doesn’t care at all. Can’t imagine caring about anything else ever again.

He keens, his hips attempting to roll back once more. This time, Father Armand lets him, allows Daniel to ride his tongue in the way he so desperately craves, and he gasps with the relief of it, his face buried in the crook of his arm as he thrusts backwards to where the priest’s mouth is waiting for him.

Then, one of Father Armand’s hands snakes around to grip Daniel in his fist, and it only takes a few strokes before the feeling of it swells into a feverish crescendo, before Daniel is twitching and spilling messily over the priest’s fingers.

Good boy, Father Armand says, tongue still deep in Daniel’s ass as he works him through the spasming aftershocks. Now, I need you to do something for me.

Daniel slumps onto the table, barely able to hold himself up, and nods limply. Anything. He’d do anything.

Stay still, Daniel.

Father Armand’s mouth moves to lavish a hot, wet kiss to where Daniel’s pulse pounds in his thigh, his teeth scraping delicately over the skin there. Then, there is the sensation of ice piercing his arteries, of numb and cold and bad and wrong.

The world begins to grow dim around the edges. The last thing Daniel remembers thinking before it all goes dark is, Please don’t kill me.

***

When Daniel awakens in his apartment the next morning, he has a bruise on his butt the size of an apple, a killer headache, and a voicemail on his answering machine:

Hey Daniel, this is Sandra. I was wondering why you missed your first N.A. meeting last night; Father Reynolds said you didn’t show. If you need help getting to them, let me know and I’ll help you work something out. Either way, try not to let it happen again, okay?

As he listens to his P.O.—who is apparently not named Sarah—speak, a lot of conflicting thoughts occur to him at once. Most of them are confused, disoriented, wondering what the fuck happened last night and who the fuck Father Armand really was.

But perhaps the loudest of all of them is the realization that that part of him that is so constantly reaching, so constantly starving, is finally contented.

For the first time he can remember, he is satisfied.

[quinnverse]

“What does it matter if I invited you when you refused? You’re clearly not interested in bedding me-- which I suppose I should be grateful for, but…” Letting out a huff, Emma shook her head. To finish that sentence would be to confess more than she cared to admit. And she'd already given him enough for one day.

“Then stop being jealous!” She challenged, as though it were as simple as choosing to not be ruffled. If he didn't want her trying to make him jealous, then he should stop acting like he was jealous. His behaviors only made Emma want to taunt him, want to make him confess deeper feelings that he had, whether they were positive or negative.

“I do know how to count, thank you very much. And I believe your vulgar words about my body deserved a slap to the face. Thus, we are even." Rubbing at her fingers beneath the leather, she continued, ignoring the light sting that such a blow had induced. "Unless you think insulting my womanhood deserves two slaps?”

And he deserves true affection, does he not? She averts her gaze, knowing he was right. If she kept up the charade long enough, Emma didn't think it would've been impossible to grow genuine feelings for someone like Mister Finnegan, but that didn't change the fact that her reasons for pursuing him were disingenuous.

“Yes...” Emma conceded with a weak nod. “He does.”

By all means his associate seemed genuinely sweet and the thought of flirting with him for purely selfish, insincere reasons wasn’t fair. His concerns for his friend were understandable and as much as she wanted to despise everything he did, she couldn’t deny that his protectiveness towards his friend was admirable. A part of her wondered if he’d be as protective of her if they married.

“I apologize. I do not wish to hurt Mister Finnegan. I would very much like to be friends with him, if anything. Besides, I doubt he would ever harbor any real feelings towards me. As you said, he’ll choose you over me, and you’ve made it clear you do not approve of my existence.” She ignored the fact that she was supposed to hate him, too. That she had been the one intent on making her distaste towards him known from the second they met.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want you to want me?” She scoffed, but it didn’t hide the way she paled at the realization.

She did want him to want her. At first, it was merely so she could use it against him. So that the wound would be deeper once she’d sunken her claws in and tore them out. But after the kiss, after seeing the slivers of warmth beneath his arrogant façade, Emma couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted him to want her. At least if she knew he wanted her for more than her money, she might be willing to accept a proposal.

“Perhaps if you courted me properly, like a true gentleman, I wouldn’t need to make you jealous. If you wish for me to accept a marriage proposal, you could at least pretend to be likable.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Instead of tricking me into kissing you and then rejecting me when I offer you more. You invoke impropriety and then deny it when I try to reciprocate, so make up your mind. If you want me for my family’s money, that’s one thing, but I don’t appreciate being thrown about like a ragdoll for your childish enjoyment. If you’re genuinely interested in me, act like it. Otherwise I would rather you treat me with the distain you truly feel.”

"Yes, I did those things, and yes, I bloody well instigated it, but I never once told you to invite me into your bedroom!" Benjamin exclaimed, pink-cheeked and shaking. "I told you I wanted to keep things appropriate, yet I guess your objective was to push me into another one of your infernal traps!"

Emma lurched forward, needling him and goading him, and despite the fact Benjamin wished to snap a rebuttal at each of her (regrettably sound) points, all he could do was press his lips shut and feel the fire in his face burn progressively hotter.

“I do not want him to choose me over you! Again, not everything is a competition, you dense, fatheaded man-child!" she seethed. "The only thing I want is for you to disappear from my life already. To leave me and my father alone."

"Then prove it!" Benjamin volleyed. "If you're not digging your claws into Finnegan for selfish means, and if you're so damnably intent on getting rid of me, then stop this outing at once! Quit with your blatant attempts at rousing me into jealousy!"

Without a moment's thought, Emma reared back and struck him harshly across the face. This time, her palm was clad in a leather riding glove as opposed to the soft, delicate silk of the night prior, so the hollow thwack caused momentary sparks of color to dance across his vision.

“How dare you, you bloody tuft-hunter. I take back what I said about you being a pig. Pigs are far too civilized to be compared to you.”

Despite this not being an attack on his true self, a nettled sense of agitation burned throughout Benjamin's chest, sharp and bilious. He raised a hand to his stinging cheek, breathing hard as loosened locks of hair fell into his eyes.

“I... believe that makes us even now,” she challenged.

Scoffing, Benjamin lowered his hand again, smoothing his palm across his weskit. "If that's even, I'm afraid you don't know how to count, Miss Dunster."

She sneered at him. "Gods, you are a piece of work, aren’t you? Tell me, then, if you think him marrying me is a bad idea, then why in God's name would you think it would be any different if I were marrying you?"

Fed up with her conjecture, Benjamin exclaimed, "It is not you I object to! What I take issue with is you are clearly using my friend to get to me, rather than harboring deep, genuine affection for him! And he deserves true affection, does he not?" Surging back toward her, his upper lip curled as he observed, "If you honestly wanted me to abandon this fruitless marriage, then you wouldn't be trying everything in your power to make me jealous...to make me want you." His breath hitched and his pulse quickened. "Or, perhaps, you actually want me to want you."