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mindmelter · 5 months ago

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Five Alien Hosts: Adventures In Italy (Part 3) - Hunks and Lies

Victor and Alexander (Sylo's host) were strolling together, visiting tourist attractions in Italy. They were having a lot of fun together, Italy was a very romantic place and Victor had on his side a hot hunk as his companion and protector, he couldn't ask for anything else. While Victor and Alexander were laughing at one of his jokes. Alexander's phone started ringing.

"Just one sec." Alexander said, picking up his phone. "Hello?... Oh, Ciao Marco, yeah I'm doing good..."

Victor rolled his eyes, he loved Sylo's host, but Alexander was always too busy with work. His phone would never stop ringing, he would answer calls even while fucking Victor. Victor did enjoy being fucked rough by Alexander while he talked business in a foreign language, but sometimes Victor just wanted Alexander to himself.

As Alexander talked to this man named 'Marco', he looked at his watch.

"Right now?... Ok, I will be there... Sure, We can discuss that when we meet." Alexander turned off the call.

"Who is Marco?" Victor asked.

"Marco is Alexander's business partner. Alexander has a car export company here in Italy and Marco helps run the company while he's away. He wants to meet me at a nearby bar for a quick meeting."

"C'mon Sylo, I told you already, no work during vacation. This day should be about us having fun together," Victor said, hugging Alexander's huge arm.

"Don't worry, Master. It will be a quick meeting. He just wants to discuss some business deals. That's the sole reason why Alexander was on that plane to begin with; he was going to meet with Marco. It would be very suspicious for Alexander not to go."

Victor sighed, Sylo was right. "Fiiiiine."

"Don't be like that," Alexander said, gently holding Victor's chin and kissing him softly. "I will make it up to you later, I promise."

They both walked to the bar where Marco had said they would meet. Once there, Victor was amazed by how handsome Marco was. Marco was the epitome of an Italian hunk. He was wearing a white dress shirt that showed some of his chest. When he saw Alexander, he had the most perfect smile on his face.

"Ciao Alex! Quanto Tempo!" Marco said.

"Ciao Marco!"

They both hugged each other and started talking in Italian, while Victor was left awkwardly staring. Marco looked at Victor, a little confused as to who he was. Sylo noticed it.

"This is my nephew, Victor." Alexander said, placing a hand on Victor's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, Victor," Marco said, extending his hand. Victor blushed and shook it, while shaking, he couldn't help but glance at Marco's open chest.

Marco then turned to Alexander "So, let's have a drink. We have so much to discuss." They took a seat at a table in the outdoor seating area. A waiter soon walked to their table.

"I will have a coffee," Marco said to the waiter.

"A martini for me and a hot chocolate for my friend over here," Alexander said. When the waiter walked away, Alexander teased Marco. "A coffee, serious? What happened to the old Marco I knew?"

"I don't drink anymore, man. I'm a dad now, did you forget my wife just had a baby?"

Alexander laughed. "And how's everything at the company?"

"Well, you know how it is in this industry, always something new popping up. But I have to say, I'm pretty excited about our latest partnership with that luxury car manufacturer from Germany."

"Ah, yes, I heard about that! That's a big move. How did you manage to pull that off?"

"It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. Lots of negotiations, late-night calls, and convincing. But in the end, it all came down to our reputation and track record."

"Impressive, Marco. I gotta hand it to you; you've always had a knack for sealing those big deals."

As they continued talking about their business. Victor couldn't help but give Marco some glances. But it looks like Marco noticed it because he immediately started to button up his shirt in the middle of the conversation and gave Victor a stern look that made him want to crawl under the table.

Victor had spent so much time with only his alien friends and their brainless hosts that he didn't know how to behave around a non-host person. He was accustomed to staring at his friends' hosts whenever he wanted, so now it was difficult for Victor to control his urges.

"So, where are you two staying at?" Marco asked, breaking the ice.

"At the La Dolce Vita Resort." Victor responded.

"Wow, expensive place. But It's not like money is a problem for your uncle, right?" Marco joked.

Victor was confused for a few seconds, his uncle? But then he remembered he was talking about Alexander. Victor grinned, if Marco only knew he and Alexander weren't related at all, and that his business partner was now just a muscle husk being controlled by an alien bug. One hour later, Marco had to go, he said he had another important meeting to attend.

On the way back to the resort, Victor looked at Alexander, who was driving.

"Why didn't you tell me Marco was this hot?"

"You like him, huh? Do you want me to take him over, Master? I would gladly turn him into a host. The guy's an asshole and the old Alexander also hated the guy. They always had this dispute between them, about who slept with the hottest woman, who had the best car, who closed more deals..."

"It would be very hot... but no, that won't be necessary. Remember, we are on vacation. That means you are free from having to turn into a host every hot man I fancy over."

Later that day, Victor and Alexander returned to their room, and to Victor's surprise, Marco was lying on the bed, reading a newspaper, as if waiting for them. He smirked at Victor and started to slowly unbutton his shirt.

"Ciao Victor," Marco said, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor, Victor was momentarily lost in Marco's abs and pecs.

"M-Marco? What are you doing here?" Victor finally asked surprised. Marco then winked at him. Victor knew that wink well; it was Sylo's way of assuring his control over a host.

"I'm so confused right now." Victor looked at Alexander, who was standing on his side, then back at Marco. "Who are you inside of right now?"

"Alexander is on autopilot. Marco has been my host since this morning. After I fucked you this morning and you got busy with Andrei and Ahmed, I called Marco to meet Alexander at a private place to discuss some business, and when he showed up, I turned him into my host." Marco explained.

"Are you saying that Alexander has been on autopilot all this afternoon?" Victor looked at Alexander on his side, who was grinning at him.

"You got me, Master." Alexander said.

"Exactly, I set his brain so he would act as if he was being controlled by me. Did he make a good impersonation of me?" Marco chuckled.

Victor was shocked, he spent the day with Alexander on autopilot and he had no clue. It wasn't the first time Sylo had pulled a prank like this. He enjoyed tricking Victor into thinking he was inside one host when he was actually in another.

"This will never get old." Marco laughed, putting his hands behind his head and showing Victor his hairy armpits. Victor couldn't deny how hot it was to see Marco shirtless in front of him, Victor now had a visible hard-on.

"He's a nice host, that's for sure. We will have a lot of fun with him." Victor sat on the bed and started to sniff Marco's hairy armpits, he smelled nice, like some fancy cologne.

"I thought you would appreciate some real Italian meat. I know how much you wanted an Italian host, and we kinda spoiled your plans by taking over those non-Italian men on the plane. Marco was born and raised in Italy, he should fulfill your fantasies."

"That's very sweet, thank you Sylo." He took his face from Marco's armpits and smirked at him. "Can you like... pretend to be the real Marco?"

"The real Marco would never be shirtless in front of you, the real Marco would have beaten you to a pulp for having your slutty mouth latching on his armpits."

Victor rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, a gay version of Marco. Remember when you took over that hot cop and we roleplayed that he would only let me go if he fucked and came inside me?"

Suddenly, Marco's eyes rolled back for a moment, and then he gave Victor a seductive glance. "You think I didn't see the way you looked at me? You were stripping me with your eyes. You're such a dirty pervert, Victor." Marco pulled his pants down and lay down fully naked on the bed.

"Fuck me, Victor. I need you inside me, I knew it since the moment I saw you staring at me." Marco begged, shaking his ass to Victor.

Victor's heart raced with anticipation. He surveyed the scene before him: the Italian hunk, Marco, lay naked on the bed, and... oh my! That magnificent Italian ass! Victor couldn't help but lick his lips. He crept closer, his gaze locked on to the tempting target. Finally, he reached out and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled the sheets away. The Italian's big, round ass was revealed in all its glory. Victor took his clothes off and leaned in closer, pressing his body against Marco's back, and began to nibble on his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath against his skin. He continued to nibble and suckle at Marco's neck, feeling the muscles in his ass tighten beneath him.

The Italian hunk let out a groan, Victor smiled wickedly. He knew exactly what he had to do. He positioned himself behind Marco, his hard cock nestled against the entrance of his ass. Slowly, methodically, he began to push forward. The head of his cock pressed against Marco's entrance, and Victor could feel him tense beneath him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. With a sudden surge of power, he thrust forward, feeling the hot, velvety flesh of Marco's ass engulf his cock.

Marco cried out, arching his back further as Victor's cock slid deeper into him. The sensation was exquisite, almost too much to bear. Victor began to fuck him hard, his hips pounding against Marco's ass in a rhythmic cadence.

The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, the wet smack of their flesh as it moved in tandem. Victor reached around, grabbing a handful of Marco's hair, using it to pull his head back and expose his neck.

"That's it, Marco," Victor whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "You're mine now, cum for me you bitch!" And with that, they came together in a passionate, sweaty embrace. As the last tremors of pleasure faded away, Victor collapsed onto the bed next to Marco, their bodies still connected by their entwined limbs. He smiled contentedly, feeling the weight of his release draining away. For a moment, they were both still, catching their breath, before Victor chuckled softly.

"This was your first time bottoming," Victor asked to Sylo, looking over at Marco with a wicked grin. "Do I make a good top?"

"I crawled out of him at the moment you were getting inside him." Alexander said across the room, he was now naked too with his heavy thick shaft swinging.

"Oh for god's sake, can you stop switching bodies for today?"

"You're my Master, but that doesn't mean I will let you top me," Alexander said, roping on the bed, he then grabbed Marco by his waist and shoved his entire shaft in one single thrust. Marco screamed, but Alexander gave his ass a hard slap and Marco went quiet.

Marco's phone started ringing, it was his wife. Alexander grabbed the phone and pulled Marco's hair. "Answer it!" Alexander growled in his ear while still fucking him.

"O-oh hey babe, uurrgghh... I'm in the middle of a meeting right now.... how is my baby angel?"

They changed positions, Alexander now had Marco on top of him, riding him while he still was talking on the phone. "I will stay at Alex's place for a few days... I know, babe, I'm sorry... I love you too." When the call ended, Marco finally let out all the moans he was holding during the call.

Victor was tired so he just watched Alexander fuck Marco non-stop for almost an hour. Finally, when Marco was about to cum, Alexander held Marco with his strong arms, so that Marco's cock was at his face level, and wrapped his mouth around Marco's shaft, just in time for Marco to start shooting.

After feeding, Alexander commanded Marco to freeze. He then lay down beside Victor, who was staring at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

"Is there something wrong, Master?" He asked, gently caressing Victor's hair. "I thought you would enjoy watching Alexander destroying Marco's ass."

"It's not it... tell me Sylo, do you think the five of you are the only ones? Don't you think maybe there could be more?"

"I can't say for sure because I couldn't know. But theoretically, it could have been more eggs in that Comet... why the random question?"

"I think we are not alone. I believe there could be others here at the resort."

"But that would be a huge coincidence for us to meet others while on vacation, Earth is a very big planet... unless" He gave Victor a stern look. "Are you hiding something from us, Master?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you all." Victor sat on the bed and sighed. "The real reason of this vacation is that I think more bugs could be here."

"What are you talking about? How would you know?"

"Remember the first man you took over? The Captain of that military operation?"

______________________________________

(1 month ago - USA)

"We're here, Master." Trent said. Trent was a popular gym coach who worked at a gym near Victor's house, after the bugs took over the bodies of the five military men, Victor, drunk with power, suggested the bugs to go to the gym next, once there, the five bugs converted all the hot muscular men working out that day into hosts, and Trent was one of Victor's favorites.

"Thank you for driving me here, Trent," Victor said, burying his face between Trent's big muscular pecs as he flexed them for Victor's amusement.

"Anything for you, Master," Trent said, gently burying Victor's face even more between his meaty pecs.

Without a bug inside his brain, Trent was put into autopilot mode, he was now just a mindless shell programmed to act like the old Trent, and of course, with Victor's suggestion, the bugs also programmed him and every other man on autopilot, to be Victor's slave.

As Victor was about to step out of the car, he had an Idea, he turned to Trent and smirked "While you wait for me, I want you to jerk off non-stop, I want you all sweaty when I'm back."

"Yes, Master," Trent responded, immediately pulling down his shorts, grabbing his 8 Inches cock and jerking off. Victor walked out of the car and went towards the military base.

After the gym takeover, the bugs explained to Victor that they could put the hosts on autopilot, Victor then went on a horny spree, helping turning every hot man he knew into a host and eventually into his slave. His hot neighbors, the construction crew that was working on a building near his house, random men he would see at the park — All fucked Victor at some point.

The military base in his city soon became Victor's next target in his quest for control. Accompanied by his five alien-controlled soldiers, Victor entered the base as if he already owned the place. The bugs crawled out from their hosts and began the takeover, turning one soldier after another into a slave for Victor. Now, these soldiers were no longer serving their country, but rather Victor himself.

Victor spotted the Captain waiting for him at the back doors of the base, Victor had learned that his name was Captain Torres.

"Hello Captain," Victor said, admiring the tall muscular man.

"Hi Master, where is your alien friends that turned me into a mindless shell?"

"I came alone this time," Victor walked closer to the Captain and felt his huge muscular arms.

"That's why you called me to meet you here? You missed these muscles, didn't you?" Captain Torres flexed his huge biceps in a cocky manner.

"Yes, I did miss these muscles," Victor smiled and pulled the Captain's head for a rough kiss. After a few seconds, Victor broke the kiss, leaving the Captain breathless. "But that's not the real reason I came here. I want you to search for something for me."

"Sure, Master, anything for you."

"I want to know the exact location of the meteorite that fell in Italy."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Master. That is confidential information and you're not an official. If I gave any private information about military business to a civilian, I would be breaking the law."

Victor chuckled. "It's honestly amazing how real you sound, anyone else would think you really mean that, in truth you're just a mindless muscle drone trying to act like the old Captain Torres would."

"But I am the real Captain Torres, Master"

"Put your hands behind your back and stand in attention." Victor commanded.

"Yes, Master." Captain Torres did what he was told, now standing with his hands behind his back, totally vulnerable to Victor. Victor grabbed the Captain's bulge and squeezed it.

Victor initially felt scared and intimidated by the much taller and more muscular hosts, he was afraid that those men would suddenly come back to themselves and kill Victor for taking advantage of their bodies. However, as he witnessed more and more big guys being converted into hosts, he started to become more confident. Captain Torres no longer intimidated him, now the only thing his presence did for Victor was to make his cock grow hard.

"You're not a real person anymore, 'Captain'. You're a pile of muscles programmed to act like the previous owner of these muscles. You know who these muscles belong to now?"

"Y-you, Master," The Captain responded, sweat forming on his forehead.

"That's right, I own your entire body. Now lead me to the command room, right now!" Victor then let go of the Captain's crotch.

"I don't know how to search for it, It's not my area. I will need to find Sergeant Jordan, he's an IT technician, he will know how to search for the location."

"Ok, what are you waiting for? Let's find him."

The captain guided Victor into the gymnasium, a cavernous space echoing with the sounds of exertion. Soldiers, engrossed in their workouts, turned to acknowledge Victor's presence. A few nodded, some offered smiles, and others, with a mix of pride and camaraderie, flexed their muscles in silent greeting. Victor savored the attention, reveling in his role as the master of these men. Amidst the rhythmic clanking of weights, Sergeant Jordan's formidable figure stood out. Noticing Victor, he set his weights aside and strode purposefully towards him.

"Hey Master, It's been a while. Are you back to make us fuck each other again? You should make Captain Torres bottom this time."

Victor walked towards Jordan and squeezed his meaty pecs. "As much as I would like to, I don't have time for it, the bugs don't even know I'm here."

"If you're not here to watch us fuck, then why are you here, Master?"

At the command room, the Captain sat on a nearby chair and looked at Sergeant Jordan. "Master wants you to find the location of the meteorite that fell in Italy."

"That is going to be impossible, the meteorite that fell in Italy was never found." Sargeant Jordan explained.

"That's because they searched for it in the wrong way, the meteorites work as a spaceship for the aliens, they pilot that egg by using telekinesis. The military was looking for a meteorite when they actually should be searching for a UFO. You meatheads only found the egg in my house because my noisy neighbor reported it."

"That makes sense, but It's going to take me some time; I will need to request access for the Air Force." Sergeant Jordan sat and started to type.

"Be quick, the bugs can't know that I'm here." Victor kneeled under the table between Jordan's legs and started to open his fly, freeing his thick 9-inch snake and started to suck.

"Yes, Master, I will do my best." Jordan moaned as Victor's tongue started to lap his shaft. Victor had forgotten how big Jordan was. On the day of the military base takeover, Sylo was the one who took over Jordan, that day he fucked Victor rough with this big tool while an orgy happenned in the background.

After sucking Jordan for a while, Victor stood up and kneeled between the Captain's legs and opened his fly, freeing his big thick 11 Inches.

"So you're... uuurrgghhh... hiding from the bugs huh?" The Captain asked. Victor took the shaft from his mouth and slapped it on his own face. "I'm not hiding from them, they just don't have to know everything I do." Victor slightly squeezed the Captain's balls. "You're not gonna tell them, are you?"

"I won't. I only answer to you, Master," the Captain said, grabbing Victor by the neck and pulling him into a long, wet kiss. Victor melted in the Captain's strong muscular arms.

"Wait, that's weird..." Sergeant Jordan muttered as he stared at the screen.

"What's wrong?" The Captain asked.

"On the day of Comet Clyde's passage, an Italian satellite detected an unidentified flying object at a resort called 'La Dolce Vita Resort'."

"Very well done Jordan," Victor said, walking to Jordan and kissing him, Jordan's softening cock now started to grow again.

"Shells can't cum without being authorized, so as a reward, I will let you cum by fucking Captain Torres." Victor glanced at the Captain, who did not look amused. "Captain, take your pants off and get on all fours, Jordan here is going to stuff your ass."

"Thank you, Master!" Sergeant Jordan grinned.

Victor took a photo of the resort address on the computer screen, while Captain Torres was already on all fours with his big muscular ass sticking up. Sergeant Jordan kneeled behind him and started unbuckling his belt. Victor gave them one last look, he wished he could stay and watch them, but he didn't have time. As Victor walked down the corridor, he could still hear the clapping noises and Captain Torre's loud moans.

Back to Trent's car, Trent was a moaning mess, his black tank top was drenched in cum and his muscles were glistening with sweat. He looked at Victor with his tongue out as he continued pumping his big meat for Victor.

Victor paid him no attention, instead reaching for his phone. He scrolled through his extensive list of contacts — he had added so many numbers in the past few months — until he found the name he sought: Mr. Thompson, his hot Daddy neighbor, the man Sylo was currently in. A deep, raspy voice answered on the other end. "Where have you been, Master? We were starting to get worried."

"I'm fine, I was just having a fun time with Trent."

"Come back, we are about to feed, and we know how much you love watching us feed. Bring Trent with you, the more the merrier."

"Oh, I don't know if he will be of much help," Victor said as he looked at Trent shooting another load. "And there it goes his last load."

"Bring him with you anyway, It's been a while since I fucked you in this shell."

"Alright, I will be there soon, Daddy..." Victor chuckled, "You guys have been so good to me. You know, Sylo, I was just thinking... what do you think of a vacation?"

______________________________________

"You did what?" Alexander's voice thundered through the room, anger etched across his face. "I can't believe you went ahead with that without even asking us first!"

"It was just a theory back then. Besides, we don't even know for certain if there are any other bugs here. I could still be wrong."

"I don't care, you put us all into danger! You should have told us!"

"Should I? I'm your Master, and you should obey me! That was the deal, remember?" Victor shouted. But as soon as the words left his mouth, regret followed. He didn't want to be an authoritarian Master; that wasn't the kind of leader he aspired to be. He wanted the bugs to be more than obedient pets; he wanted them to be his friends. Victor sighed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

Alexander gazed at Victor with a disappointed expression. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and Sylo swiftly crawled out of his mouth, disappearing under the door gap.

"No please come back, Sylo! I'm so-rry..."

Victor sat on the edge of the bed with his head down. Marco and Alexander — Now both empty shells, sat on his side and comforted their Master.

#alien possession

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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 1 - Round Two | ‘Act II’

word count - 10 k

“Erm... yeah, that’s a bit of me. Big follow.” You giggled, plucking the phone out of your friend Whitney’s hand admiring an abnormally pretty boy she was showing you on the screen.

“Right?” She laughed with you spreading her two fingers on the screen to zoom in on the boy’s perfect physique. Whitney’s dad spent every day he could watching football. It was on in their house twenty four hours a day. He was an awesome dad to two girls you called your best friends but you always sensed that it pained him he couldn’t have had a son to give it a go in an international football league. He could care less about the American MLS teams but that’s a story for another time. Previously, you really hadn’t cared about your best friend’s fathers interest in the sport. Your own family was into footie, your brother, your dad, but again, you didn’t really buy in. That said, if someone asked you on the street who you supported, you’d have an answer, you knew the high level things going on in the world of football.

“Like okkkay besties! I’m into this.” You cheekily cooed. Your disinterest suddenly became a big interest when Whitney showed you a photo of two boys that played for the England international team. One was cute... pretty, in fact. You’d say he gave off a sort of a more demure vibe in comparison. Whitney was hooked; her dad was an avid Liverpool supporter and by turn Whitney was. Apparently her dad pointed Trent Alexander-Arnold out to her during a regular season match earlier. The other boy in said photo, well, that was a bit of you.

“They’re so pretty.” Whitney sighed, taking a longer look at Trent’s face. “Hello. Earth to Y/N.” She called for you after your eyes began to glaze over wishing your thumb hovering over his happy trail was able to actually feel the muscular abs you’d been actually drooling over beneath it.

“Sorry but he’s so hot.” You laughed with a shake of the head trying to snap out of your lustful haze. Whitney hadn’t even said their names but frankly, you didn’t care. You just might support England in this tournament. Your brother and dad would kill you but you’d do it for a man that looked like this. You were French, that would arguably be seen as treason in your household but he was so good looking they’d have to understand. Your dad would tell you you were French the same way Whitney’s dad would tell her she was British. You both were not born in your respective native lands but your dads were from, you had dual citizenships but no accents. That said, you did speak the language. Your family had actually lived in Paris for a few years before you went to university and met Whitney.

“I know I figured I’d share.” Whitney smiled at you with a bob of the head happy with her recent Instagram follow as she grabbed her phone back from you.

“Thank you Mr. Smith. Who knew he had such good taste in men.” You teased taking her phone back once more to actually look at the instagram handle above the photo that had you in such a trance. ‘Jude Bellingham’ you read the name in your head in a silly British accent that probably wasn’t all that accurate. You didn’t know a thing about him. You hadn’t heard either of the boys even speak but he just gave off such British vibes and it made you laugh a little.

“Man of many talents, l suppose.” Whitney snatched her phone back and went back to Trent’s Instagram, scrolling through photos she’d seen at least a hundred times by now but she wanted to see them one hundred more.

Flash forward a couple years, a lot of drinks, a blossomed relationship for Whitney, and unfortunately a few more tears than you would’ve hoped later and you found yourself in a Greecian club on a holiday with the two English footballers and their friends. How? You wondered the same thing but Whitney seemed to have fate on her side. Although, she didn’t seem to want to share any because a night ago you could have used some when you fucked her now boyfriend, Trent’s brother, so it didn’t really come as welcomed news when you found out the lustful torch you carried for your instagram crush, Jude, was in front of you in real life now burning. It had been a long couple of hours navigating the waters of two men in a confined space.

“I like this…” Jude cooed, slipping his fingers under the strap of your red dress. “Would look better on my floor though.” He whispered a line you’d heard too many times in your ear despite the loud thump of the bass in the club. It should’ve put you off. It should’ve been an eye roll moment except it wasn’t. There was something about the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, the way he touched you. All night he had you in a trance. It made you feel attended to in the least cheesy and cliche way. You’d flirted earlier in the evening when you’d been introduced after dinner but you were proper close now and the game had begun. You were not an easy lay… well it depended on the day and how bad you wanted to have sex. Regardless, you liked the game with boys. It was fun. You knew you were attractive and you knew that came with many perks like lines of men interested in you and the only way to make it slightly more entertaining and fun and maybe sift out the trash, although some always managed to seep through, you’d test them. Play games, flirt mercilessly and then leave high and dry, you’d make them buy your drinks while you played with their hearts and their hands dragging them up and down your figure.

“You can’t put a dress like this on the floor, Jude.” You quipped back, placing your hand over his and guiding it down your body and the sheer beaded fishnet fabric. It was a gorgeous Roberta Einer mini dress that you’d been itching to wear somewhere but the way the lights were reflecting off it now and your newly tanned skin barely hidden under it, you knew tonight was the perfect debut for it.

“Alright, I’ll hang it up just for you.” He gently whispered into your ear. He wasn’t offering to do you some sort of grand favor but the way he said it made it sound like you were meant to be grateful and you didn’t like that he had made such a subtle move to take the upper hand. So you cut the line.

“Okay, thank you.” You brushed him off with a short smile as if he had handed you a coffee over a counter.

“No problem. As long as it’s still coming off.” Jude was persistent though. He was sweet and smooth. His scent was encircling you and keeping you hostage. His woody musk built walls around you, caging you in. His big soft hands on your exposed skin acting as shackles. You were trapped.

“We shouldn’t.” You muttered haphazardly as he ducked his face to be in front of yours. He gently guided you to step back against a wall in a corridor of the club. You thought you’d get some air and free yourself from the thick tension being near Jude but he followed you. You two were like magnets. There was something there and you weren’t sure why it felt a little more dangerous than just lust. He placed his massive hand on your waist, squeezing you just a little before letting his hand drop down to your hip.

“But we could.” He cooed with the cheekiest smile you might have ever seen in your life and arguably the prettiest too. You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping your lips. You hated that he had you like this. He moved closer and dragged his lips down your neck, kiss after kiss, running his tongue along your warm skin. It was like he was a live wire jump starting your whole system. The tension was palpable and you wanted more of it but not that easily, of course. You knew who Jude was. You were shown his instagram obviously by Whitney and if the millions of Instagram followers weren’t enough of an indicator it was his insistent presence in the media. A ad campaign, a dramatized story in the Daily Mail, a shirtless instagram post, you would’ve loved to say you did notice it all but you were very aware and embarrassingly you welcomed his ever presence on your phone when you were miles apart. Right now though you weren’t sure there was even a centimeter separating you. Despite knowing what you knew, you were not going to be complacent to the great Jude Bellingham. Tonight was meant to be a level playing field.

“Your first night out?” You questioned him. Honestly, the only reason you were asking this is because Whitney had made a point before you’d even left for this holiday that you not ruin it all making a rash hook up night one… except you already had. You slept with her boyfriend’s brother which in both his and your defense was good sex. It was fun, rough, drunk, orgasmic and unattached just the way you liked it. He wasn’t exactly off the table though in your mind. He was cute, you had control of the situation and his room was next to yours at the villa you were staying in. Like you said, it was good sex. Although you weren’t going to say no if Jude pushed and you hoped he did but you weren’t exactly closing off other options either. You were on holiday. No one would get hurt, they were twenty some year old men in Greece, you couldn’t imagine commitment was on anyone’s minds. You didn’t kiss Jude in the corridor even though it was the only thought populating in your mind. Jude hated that your game of teasing drew him in more. He liked to be in charge. He liked to run the show and he knew he was losing ground when you moved past him to get back to the ropped off private area in the club with everyone else. Jude was slick as you made your way back and moved quickly in front of you to sit down first. He pulled you down to sit on his lap and you faked an eye roll as if Jude’s persistence was unwelcomed but it was anything but. As the night rolled on you got drunker and his touches got more courageous. In the dim light of the nightclub, the bass thrummed like a heartbeat in the air, creating a pulsing rhythm that matched the intoxicating sway of the crowd. The atmosphere was thick with a heady mix of laughter, music, and the sweet scent of bottles and bottles of Don Julio 1942. You stayed settled on his lap, warmth enveloped you, igniting a spark that sent shivers down your spine. His strong hands rested gently on your hips, grounding you while the world around you blurred into a swirling tapestry of colors. With each sip of your drink, the world grew more vivid, the laughter more melodic, and the closeness between you more electric. Your heart raced, not just from the alcohol but from the magnetic pull of his gaze.

“Just want to pull this right up and…” He leaned in closer, his breath a tantalizing whisper against your ear, sending tiny jolts of excitement through you. The rich timbre of his voice wrapped around you like velvet, drawing you deeper into this intoxicating moment, letting his hand on your thigh go higher and higher pulling the hem of your dress with it. His pinky finger able to ghost over your panty clad pussy.

“Stop…” You giggled, meaning exactly the opposite, grabbing his hand to halt any further movement. This was a dangerous game. You were both on the verge of blacking out. As the night wore on, the music wrapped you both in its seductive embrace, and every glance he stole felt like a secret promise. You found yourself laughing freely, each sound mingling with the pulsating rhythm, feeling utterly alive under the spell of his charm. The lights danced across Jude’s features, enhancing the sharp lines of his jaw and the smirk that hinted at playful mischief. The more you drank, the more you adored him—the way he held you, the way he listened with rapt attention, as if you were the only person in the room. You could feel the warmth of connection building like the crescendo of a song, enveloping you in a cocoon of desire and vulnerability. The laughter faded into a soft hum, and in that moment, you knew you were falling—not just into drunken bliss but into something deeper, something intoxicatingly real. Time slipped away, lost in the rhythm of the night, and as you rested your head against his shoulder, a tender smile graced your lips. Similarly a boyish, lopsided grin plastered to his face. A darkness flooded your mind. You. blacked. out. You thought you had a pretty okay tolerance but maybe your stature didn’t exactly match the 6’2 man you were trying to keep up with shot for shot. 42 was starting to taste like water and you were pretty sure no one had an accent anymore.

You had a blurry memory of his lips brushing against yours, gentle yet urgent, igniting a fire that danced within you. As the vibrant strobe lights cast fleeting shadows across his face, you felt a magnetic pull, drawing you closer into a world that existed solely for the two of you. Each brush of his lips sent shivers racing through your body, igniting every nerve ending in a delicious wave of ecstasy. The heat of his body pressed against you, a tantalizing reminder of the summer night outside, while his hands tangled in your hair and traced the curve of your back, urging you deeper into his embrace. The music swelled around you, a backdrop of heavy bass that mirrored the pounding of your heart, creating a bubble of exhilaration and desire. Time seemed to dissolve as the world outside faded, leaving only the taste of his kiss—sweet and intoxicating, mingling with the warm summer air that danced around you. Your bodies moved in sync, a rhythm as intoxicating as the melody that surrounded you. With each kiss, the world blurred into soft hues of color, a vivid painting of passion and spontaneity. The tender urgency of your connection deepened, exploring uncharted territories as hands explored, pulling each other closer, savoring the moment as if time itself stood still. It was a wild, breathless escape, filled with promises whispered between breaths, where the pulse of the music became the heartbeat of your desires, leaving you both breathless, alive, and utterly entwined.

The morning light peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the disheveled bed. You stirred, feeling the weight of a night filled with laughter and passion settle heavily on your limbs. A dull throb pulsed in your temples, each beat a reminder of the revelry that had unfolded the night before. As your eyes fluttered open, they fell upon the figure beside you… Jude. His chiseled silhouette half-hidden beneath rumpled sheets, radiating an effortless charm even in the quiet aftermath of the night. The scent of his skin lingered in the air, a rich, intoxicating mix of cologne and the faint hint of warmth from your shared adventures. As you attempted to piece together the fragments of last night, the tableau before you sent a rush of sensations coursing through you. There he was, tangled in the sheets, sunkissed skin glistening slightly in the morning light, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. You could have sworn he looked like a work of art, perfectly imperfect in a way that made your heart flutter unexpectedly.

“I have to get to my room.” You whispered to Jude with a pounding headache, not entirely sure what happened but you were sore and naked so you had a good idea. Your heart was racing praying to see some remnant or clue that protection was used. The world around you felt hazy, your thoughts muddled from too much tequila and laughter, yet the sight of him brought warmth and a flicker of exhilaration to your chest. You shifted slightly, the crisp sheets whispering against your skin, and he stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours—a lazy, sultry gaze that ignited memories of stolen kisses and whispered secrets shared in low-lit corners of the nightclub.

“Good morning to you to." He laughed tiredly. "What’d you say?” His voice was low and smooth, like velvet draping over your senses, both teasing and inviting. A smile crept across his lips, illuminating his features and crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made your heart race. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, feeling the pull of a connection that thrummed between you, more potent than the remnants of your hangover.

“I said, I have to get to my room.” You smiled as you tentatively lifted your hand to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, the soft rustle of sheets surrounded you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt deliciously intoxicating. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, an acknowledgment of last night's escapades, layered with the thrill of unexpected mornings. In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in warmth and longing, a beautiful aftermath that felt fleeting yet infinitely precious.

“Why…” Jude groaned, letting his eyes close again. With every heartbeat, it became clear: the night had woven your lives together, if only for an ephemeral moment. And though uncertainty lingered like a sweet aftertaste, the promise of the unknown shimmered in the air.

“Everyone can’t know I slept in here.” You whispered again with some urgency. Image was important to you. Sleep with whoever you want, absolutely. Let people know that? Absolutely not.

“Whyyy…” Jude kept on his childish theatrics with another groan. He outstretched his arm and draped it around your waist as insurance you wouldn’t leave. This was not a rare indulgence for you but it would cling to you like the sheets twisted around your body currently were, all day if you didn’t get out of there. The lavish villa room was stunning and an opulent blend of modern luxury and understated, but it did little to distract from Jude. His hair messy in a way he’d hate yet it formed a careless halo on the pillow beneath him.

“I’ll see you later.” You giggled pulling down the sheet and slapping his ass trying to make light of you not being able to remember anything and remind him you were waking up naked in case he didn’t either. You moved in a way that was calculated after that, you’d done this before. You have a good night, a great night in fact, great sex, although usually you prefer to remember a semblance of it… god damnit where is a condom wrapper… literally anything! But you’d done this before and you knew you had to move quickly as if your very presence in Jude’s room might unravel the meticulously crafted image you’d built. The mesh of your mini dress, now crumpled on the foot of the bed, tells the story of a night you could barely recall. You did recall Jude saying he’d hang the dress up but that went out the window and evidently so did your morality when it came to safe sex. It was a night you both dreaded and longed to remember.

“Ow fuck, Y/N.” Jude complained reaching lazily to pull the covers back up to cover himself. You laughed a little at his poor morning attitude but got distracted when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It reflected a woman who was both powerful and vulnerable, your usual poise slightly fractured. You couldn’t even attempt to restore any dignity to your appearance. This was simply the job for a real shower.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” You mocked him a little, coming and kissing near Jude’s ear softly with a hum.

“Yeah, fuck.” He complained, burying his face in a pillow.

“Aw, I’ll remember that when I’m laying concealer over your bite marks before breakfast.” You teased running your hand over a bruise you could clearly make out on your collarbone. There was no use trying to restore your usual pristine facade. There’s no hiding the telltale signs: the smudged mascara around your eyes, the bruised lips, the scent of him lingering on your skin. “It was good though.” You sympathetically smiled at him. You felt bad. Why did you suddenly feel a tinge of guilt and softness towards him? No idea. You weren’t sure. You snapped your eyes off him to hopefully help break the emotions you were starting to feel.

“Yeah? What you had wanted?” Jude opened his eyes again and smiled sleepily at you. You glanced back at his chiseled features softened in the haze of his tiredness. A part of you felt so drawn to him. So you took a seat on the side of the bed running your hands over his warm skin.

“Erm… don’t know, I might need one more go just to make sure it was as good as I remember.” You lied. Why did you lie? You weren’t sure. What had this boy done to you? You were having a hell of a hangover and you were starting to wonder if the tequila from last night somehow disregulated or fucked with the limbic system in your brain.

“Mmmm C’mere.” Jude pulled you down into a kiss and you let him. It was warm, soft, slow, and sleepy and yet it had you trying not to moan into his mouth it was turning you on so much.

“I have to go.” You sympathetically pulled away with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah but you’ve got me hard now.” Jude flashed you a conniving grin hoping that his pretty face could convince you to stay. It almost worked. Unfortunately his face didn’t outweigh your fear of being caught out. Two men in three or so days wasn’t a fact you’d be broadcasting but you weren’t exactly complaining either.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You gave him an annoyingly cheeky grin. Jude was upset that he still managed to find it cute despite him being painfully hard now. He sighed and grabbed your arm before you could get far. You looked at him innocently not sure what he needed because you weren’t going to stay. He kissed your knuckles and then rolled over in the bed. That was it. You weren’t sure what to make of it so you just smiled with a hum stepping away, leaving behind a world of temptation and chaos as you quietly gathered the remnants of your dignity and fragments of your outfit from last night. You grabbed Jude’s shirt of the floor and pulled it over you. You weren’t about to put back on your dress from last night. You were missing an earring as well but you’d find it later. It wasn’t a proud moment as you slipped out the door cautiously and tiptoed to your bedroom, heels in hand, your bare feet peeling off the marble floors of the villa, wincing at the noise with every step, terrified someone might see you. You went to the en suite of your room and took off his shirt. You looked at it and smiled until you caught yourself in the mirror smiling like an idiot at it. There was a slight smudge of your lipstick color on the collar. It smelt like him and you just wanted to put it back on and go to bed but instead you turned on the shower. In a state of delusion and a hangover haze you held the shirt in your hand and cheekily took a nude in the mirror sending it to Jude.

‘To help with your problem. xx’

Jude threw his head back on his pillow with another groan as he opened the message. He sorted himself out after that thanks to your photos assistance and memories of last night before he went back to sleep. You smiled when you saw he responded after your shower… until you read it.

‘You’re unreal, angel. Liked it better when I was cumming inside you though and not just to the thought of you. Maybe later? xx.’

“Oh my god!” You gasped out loud dropping your phone. It fell on your toe and you thought you were going to cry. It hurt so bad. You grabbed your phone and wrapped your towel around you a bit tighter and ran to your bed and fell face first. “I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid.” You repeated over and over again. You were haunted by the memory of last night you couldn’t remember, and the man down the hall, clinging to you like a whisper you couldn’t quite shake, a reminder that even the most perfect facades have cracks.

“I need to talk to you immediately.” You hushly but harshly whispered to Whitney in the kitchen later that morning gripping her arm so tight she might have a bruise later. She was sitting on Trent’s lap who gave you a curious yet concerned face. You just smiled and yanked Whitney off him pulling her all the way down the hall to your room. “Look at me…” You snapped peeling your shirt off to reveal the remnants of your night with Jude. Her eyes went wide and a cheeky grin began to pull on her face.

“Can you give me a little more context because I need to know if I should be applauding someone’s handiwork or if something happened because you look like someone attacked you.” Whitney kept her smile knowing it wasn’t the later.

“Whit… I don’t even remember it and I think he does. I lied and said I did and then I was a fucking idiot and sent him a nude this morning because I apparently willingly opt for chaos and he jerked off to it and said he…” You picked your arms up to air quote. “‘Liked it better when he was cumming inside me’ so that’s fucking insane.” Whitney’s jaw dropped at your confessional.

“Okay.. erm it’s fine. Sit down, sit down, sit down.” She beckoned you over and you sat next to her on your bed letting your body fall limp into her lap. “It’s fine. Honestly, we’ll sort it. A few questions for you. Erm… one, who are we talking about?” She asked you gently, running her hand over your head. That question alone made you feel dumb. To Whitney’s credit, it was a fair question.

“Jude… I woke up with Jude this morning.” You whined covering your face with your hands embarrassed to admit it.

“Y/N, its okay. Second question, you wanted to right? Like you’re not upset because he… you know. Like this was consensual?” She sheepishly asked you. You softly smiled at her with a shake of the head. Whitney was always so mindful and gentle. She did this with everything. She needed to make sure everything was okay so she could properly help. She wanted to make sure you were okay and she was probably the only person in your life that when she asked that, you knew she meant it and honestly wanted to listen. She really was the sweetest and had good intentions but consent wasn’t an issue here. “Okay, as long as you’re fine in that regard. Well, you should ask Jude like if he actually did finish inside and we’ll go from there. I mean… we’ve handled this before.” She giggled a little recalling many of antics between the pair of you from university to date. “The nude is whatever. Don’t worry. He’s seen you naked. It's not exactly like you have a body anyone would be ashamed of either. The photo won’t go anywhere and if you liked him or the sex, I mean it’s not a bad person to add to your body count.” She cheekily smiled at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. Her smile was infectious and it made you feel better just seeing it. “Jude is nicer than you’d think so just talk to him. You two can just have a pretty person conversation.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Do you want to get your joke in now or will you give me the morning?” You laughed, running your hands over your face again. Your relationship with Whitney was like any good friendship it was filled with love and support, a lot of laughter and amazing memories, but humor was a pillar for you two. When things got hard if you didn’t laugh about it you’d cry.

“Eh… When you least expect it. Today though.” She laughed. “To be fair, you looked really good last night. I didn’t think you’d be going to sleep alone.” Whitney cooed as you sat up. You picked up your phone and opened your messages with Jude and deleted them for your own sanity. You couldn’t have your mistakes just sitting there. “You’re supposed to say ‘yeah, Whit you looked good last night too, did you go home with anyone?” She teased bumping her shoulder against yours drawing you out of your moment of embarrassment rereading Jude’s message.

“Yes, yes, Whitney. You’re gorgeous and Trent loves you. You guys probably fucked four times yesterday so forgive me if I didn’t add to Trent’s chorus of chants of how beautiful you are.” You teased her dropping your cheek to rest on her shoulder. Whitney deserved Trent’s high praise. She was stunning, you just were a little caught out over your mistakes.

“It’ll be fine. I promise. Honest. Just talk to him, okay?” Whitney snapped back to a moment of seriousness and reassurance wrapping her arms around you tight. You don’t know what you’d do without her. She’d had this conversation with you more times than you cared to admit.

“Hey… Can I talk to you?” You embarrassingly asked Jude, coming up sheepishly beside him.

“Yeah, course but only if you help me with suncream.” He cheekily answered you, handing you the bottle. His tanned muscular physique in front of you had you momentarily forget what you even were coming to ask him. You hated that it all made your heart falter but in all seriousness, you needed to find out what happened so you took the bottle from him and squeezed it into the palm of your hand.

“Erm… so this is embarrassing, like I’m actually so embarrassed to say this but I don’t exactly remember the latter half of our night so can you just.. Ugh.. like… did you actually cum inside me?” You muttered out the words letting your face fall against his bicep. The sunscreen just waiting in your palms. You pressed your forehead against his arm muscle mortified unable to do anything else. You couldn’t look at him. Your words were quiet and mumbled.

“You were that drunk, Y/N!? That’s so bad. Fuck…” Jude was shocked. He pulled you off and held you by your shoulders in front of him looking directly into your eyes. “Okay, erm, first off I did.” He confirmed and your face dropped when he told you the fact you were hoping he was going to say wasn’t true. “Y/N… Y/N… hold on. I mean.” Jude started to laugh and your eyes widened in confusion and terror. “I mean, you don’t have to worry. I… or it was in your ass so you can’t get pregnant from that if that’s what your worried about, yeah?” Jude flashed you a devastatingly handsome and equally cheeky smile.

“Oh… my god. Are you serious right now?” If you weren’t embarrassed before you certainly were now. You wanted to just disappear.

“Yeah but I’m not really concerned about that. Are you serious you don’t remember? I feel awful that I was having fun last night with you now.” Jude admitted to you with no an unintentionally cute pout. His mind was racing panicking that he had somehow done something wrong but you didn’t think that at all. You were in your own head about how self-conscious you currently felt but also a little bit by how sweet he was.

“You had fun last night?” You asked him more reserved than you would’ve wanted to. You wanted to be confident in front of this person who felt almost larger than life but you couldn’t help but feel a little smitten by him, a shyness washing over you you didn’t often feel. You tried to move last night's antics into the back of your mind. Both he and your ‘cool’ facades were crumbling. You both clearly cared.

“Y/N, you're fit. Of course, I had fun. It was amazing. I just feel horrible you don’t remember because visuals aside it was just a fun night in general. Honest, it was great. If you’re interested, I can give you a refresh?” Jude cooed, running his hands up and down the sides of your arms in a way that somehow managed to be both comforting and sensual. His cheeky smile returning. You did as he asked and helped him with the suncream and both of you were plagued with memories of last night. “Am I wrong for thinking we have to pack condoms for the boat?” Jude whispered to you as you applied the lotion on so that no one else could hear. You wanted to laugh but you bit your lip and rolled your eyes instead.

“Yes, yes you are.” You spoke at a normal volume as you turned around to look directly at him. Funny he was asking to use condoms now considering you couldn't find any in the bedroom this morning.

“Oh, okay so you want to do round two, just do what we did last night, yeah?” Jude gave you a smug smile and slyly squeezed at your waist. Your jaw slacked at his cheek. No, you definitely weren't planning on anymore anal sex on this trip. That was a drunk indiscretion you typically preferred to save for a serious boyfriend, if that.

"No! We’re just not fucking on the boat. Full stop.” You smiled at him really having a hard time trying not to laugh but you managed spinning on your heel away from him and jetting off to find Whitney and your sexiest bikini just to really rub it in his face you weren’t fucking him on this boat. Although a part of you kind of wanted to but you'd hold your ground.

For the rest of the day though, suncream became your secret way to touch each other all day. The sun was already climbing high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the shimmering waters of Greece. The yacht bobbed gently in the marina, waiting for its passengers to board. You stood on the deck, holding a bottle of sunscreen, watching the sunlight dance on the sea’s surface. You could feel the excitement of the day ahead—a day spent out on the open water with Jude, a day of freedom and escape. Jude emerged from below deck, a grin on his face, wearing a pair of dark Prada sunglasses and Bottega swim trunks. His skin was already kissed by the sun from the days you’d spent together here, but there was something about the way the light hit him now, that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, you got that suncream?” Jude called out as he approached you. He took the bottle from your hand, your fingers brushing just slightly, sending a small jolt through you.

“Course” you replied with a playful smile. “Don’t want you getting any sun damage out here. You know, we wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” You teased.

“I don’t know, I think it could be a good look for me. Adds a little rugged charm.” Jude chuckled, shaking his head. He squeezed some sunscreen into his hand, rubbing it over his chest and arms in quick, careless strokes. You raised an eyebrow.

“I think you missed a few spots,” you teased, stepping closer to him. Your hand lightly grazed his back as you took the bottle from him. “Let me help.” Jude smirked, enjoying the attention.

“Only if it means getting your hands on me,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, adding a teasing tone.

“Oh, stop,” you said with a laugh, trying to sound casual as your hands spread sunscreen across his back. Your fingers moved slowly, deliberately, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch. “You’re lucky I’m nice enough to do this for you.”

“Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Jude replied, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the feeling of your hands on his skin. “I’ve got the best view and the best company. And now, a free suncream application. What more could a guy ask for?”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” You warned softly with a giggle, your hands moving to his shoulders, your touch more lingering now. “I still have to get my own back, you know.”

“I’d be more than happy to return the favor,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “In fact, I insist.” Jude turned his head slightly, peering over his shoulder at you. You felt a flutter in your chest but kept your expression playful. Jude took the suncream and poured some into his hands, stepping behind you. His hands were warm as they gently spread the lotion across your shoulders, his touch firm yet tender. You closed your eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine despite the warmth of the sun. “Are you sure you trust me?” Jude murmured close to your ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless. “But I guess I’ll have to find out.” Jude’s hands moved down your back, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your knees feel weak. You could feel his breath on your neck, the closeness of him making your head spin.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you,” Jude whispered, his hands still working the sunscreen into your skin but moving slower, more deliberately. “You know that, right?”You nodded, your eyes still closed, leaning back slightly into his touch.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Jude’s hands finally reached the small of your back, lingering there for a moment before he let out a deep breath and stepped away, breaking the spell. “Alright, I think you’re all set,” he said, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the warmth in his voice. You turned to face him, your cheeks slightly flushed but smiling.

As the yacht continued to glide smoothly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, everyone gathered around a large table for lunch. The sun was high, warming the deck, and the soft sound of waves provided a calming background melody. Plates of fresh seafood, salads, and cold drinks were spread out, and the air was filled with the scent of the sea. You were seated directly across from Jude, your little yellow Louis Vuitton bikini doing little to cover your sun-kissed skin. Every time you moved, the sunlight would catch on you, making you glow in a way that Jude found impossibly distracting. He tried to focus on his plate, spearing a piece of grilled octopus, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. You caught him looking more than once, your lips curving into a coy smile every time your eyes met.

“So, Jude,” you said suddenly, drawing his attention fully to you. You were leaning back in your chair, stretching in a way that made your body arch just slightly. “You enjoying yourself?” Your tone was light, but there was a playful glint in your eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. Jude swallowed hard, feeling the heat creep up the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m having a great time,” he replied, trying to sound casual. But his voice betrayed him with a slight huskiness. “How about you?” Your smile widened at his question, your fingers toyed with the rim of your wine glass.

“Oh, I’m having a wonderful time,” you said, your voice soft and teasing. “The company’s great… and the view’s not bad either.” Trent and Whitney exchanged a knowing glance but continued eating, choosing not to interrupt the obvious tension building between Jude and you. Whitney smirked, clearly amused by the situation though. Jude shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool.

“Glad you’re enjoying the view,” he said with a smirk, though his eyes betrayed the way his pulse quickened every time you moved. You lifted a piece of fruit to your lips, biting into it slowly. You licked a drop of juice from your lower lip, watching Jude intently.

“I could say the same to you,” you murmured, your voice low and flirtatious. Jude’s grip tightened around his fork. It was becoming harder to focus on anything but you but he was annoyed by your cheek. Annoyed that he felt like he was loosing this conversation.

“Yeah, well,” he began, attempting to match your lighthearted tone, “it’s hard not to when you keep… putting on a show.” Jude quipped trying to regain ground. You feigned innocence, your eyes going wide.

“A show?” You repeated, your tone laced with playful mockery. “I’m just eating my lunch, Jude. What show?” You asked. Whitney lightly elbowed Trent, a small laugh escaping her.

“Maybe Jude’s just not used to being distracted during a meal,” she added, winking at you. You laughed softly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jude. Am I distracting you?” You purred, leaning forward slightly so your bikini dipped a little lower, tits out. Jude’s throat felt dry, and he took a sip of his drink to steady himself all he could think about was you in his bed last night and getting that stupid bikini off you now.

“Just a little,” he muttered, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his composure. “But I’m managing.” You raised an eyebrow, your smile teasing.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to suffer,” you said, drawing out the last word. “Maybe I should… cover up?” You smirked. All the boys sans Trent at the table shifted in their seats. Not keen about your suggestion. Jude quickly shook his head, a bit too fast, doing what they all wanted to.

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re fine,” he blurted out, then cursed inwardly at how desperate he sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, it’s a boat. You’re supposed to be comfortable.” He rectified. Your laugh was soft and melodic as you leaned back, clearly pleased with yourself.

“Good,” You said simply, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because I’m perfectly comfortable.” Jude could only nod, his eyes locked on hers. He felt a mixture of frustration and amusement at how effortlessly you could make him lose his cool. He knew you were doing it on purpose, and yet, he found he didn’t really mind. There was something thrilling about this game you played, a tension that made every glance, every word feel charged with electricity. As they continued eating, the conversation flowed around them, but Jude and you remained locked in your private dance of flirtation and teasing, each word, each look a step closer to something inevitable.

The villa was silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the waves outside. It was late, and everyone had already gone to bed after another lively night out at a Grecian club. The moonlight spilled into the hallway, casting gentle shadows on the whitewashed walls as you quietly padded towards Jude's room. Your heart raced, not just from the couple too many of drinks you had earlier, but from the anticipation of seeing Jude again. The whole day had been a tease-sly glances, lingering touches, and stolen moments of whispered words that had you on edge. You reached his door and paused, biting your lip, starting to second guess yourself. You could feel the fluttering in your stomach, a mixture of nerves and excitement. Gently, you turned the knob and slipped inside. The room was dimly lit by the moon, enough to make out Jude's form lying in bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You tiptoed over to his bed, your bare feet barely making a sound on the cool floor.

“Jude…” you whispered as you slipped under the covers, pressing your body against his. Jude stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open in the darkness. He turned his head to see you, a lazy smile tugging at his lips even in his half-awake state

“Y/N." He mumbled, his voice husky from sleep. "You alright?” He smiled and you felt relief weigh over you. It was unsaid but Jude was welcome in your room and you were welcome in his. Although tonight you had gone your separate ways both trying to make it seem like you weren’t dying to sleep with the other. You were the first to cave.

"I'm cold.” You lied, shivering dramatically. You knew it was a poor excuse, especially considering the warm summer night, but you didn't care, you knew he wouldn’t care. All you wanted was to be close to him.

“Cold, huh?” Jude teased with a soft chuckle, his arm reaching out to pull you closer to him. His voice was still thick with sleep but laced with amusement. "You're always cold." You pouted, though the darkness hid your playful expression.

“I am," you insisted, snuggling closer, pressing your body into his. You could feel the heat of his skin and it sent a shiver down your spine-this one was real. Jude's arms wrapped around you, his touch gentle but firm. He pulled you even closer, your bodies now pressed tightly together under the covers.

"Better?" he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"Much," you breathed, letting your hands rest on his chest. You could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your palm, and it made you feel safe, like this was exactly where you were supposed to be. For a few moments, you laid there in comfortable silence, the only sound the faint rustle of the sheets as you shifted slightly against each other. Your fingers traced light patterns on Jude's chest, your touch soft and exploratory. You could feel his muscles tense slightly under your touch, a silent acknowledgment of the effect you were having on him.

"Y/N," Jude murmured, his voice a little tighter now. "What are you doing?" He smirked at you.

"Nothing," you whispered back, your fingers continuing their slow journey over his skin. "Just…feeling you." Jude let out a low breath, a mix between a sigh and a groan.

"You're not making it easy to try to go back to sleep , you know.” Jude’s tone dropped. You’re breath began to increase.

"Who said anything about going back to sleep?" You shot back playfully, your voice hushed but teasing. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes catching the moonlight just enough for him to see the mischievous glint in them. Jude chuckled again, but there was a strain in his voice now, a tension that was unmistakable.

"You're trouble," he muttered, his hand sliding down your back, resting just above your waist. "You know that?" His eyes lit up as they looked at you. You smiled, your lips brushing against his jawline as you leaned in closer.

"Only for you," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. Jude's grip on you tightened instinctively, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He rolled slightly onto his back, pulling you with him so you were half-draped over his chest. Your faces were close, the heat between you palpable. His hand slipped under your shirt, fingertips grazing your spine, causing you to shiver again-but this time, not from the cold.

"Still cold?" Jude asked, his voice low, almost a growl. His eyes were dark with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. You didn't answer with words. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as Jude responded. His hand moved up your back, pulling you even closer, while the other hand found its way into your hair, tangling in it. Your kiss grew hungrier, more insistent, as if all the teasing and flirting throughout the day had led to this inevitable moment. Your fingers slid up Jude's chest to his neck, holding him close, not wanting to let go. You could feel the heat of his body beneath you, the way his muscles moved under your touch, and it made your head spin. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. “I want you to remember this time.” His voice thick with emotion. You nodded, your hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling yourself down towards him.

"I've never been more sure," you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with certainty. Jude leaned foreward, capturing your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation. The tension that had been building between you all day finally snapped, and you gave in to the desire that had been simmering just below the surface. His hands roamed over your body, memorizing every curve and line, while your hands explored his, feeling the strength and warmth of him against you. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you tangled together under the moonlight, loosing clothing items by the second, lost in each other, and in the heat of the moment. His tongue slipped past your lips, causing you to moan. Judes hand slowly drifted down towards your core. The sounds you were making in desperation were driving him crazy. The soft moans like music. You could feel your pussy aching and dripping begging for him to move faster. You wiggled your body closer into his. He gripped your thigh squeezing you as he moved closer. You were so fixated on his hands so painfully close to your pussy you hadn’t noticed one of his hand coming to grip your chin. He moved your head to look directly at him. His deep brown eyes stared back into yours. His thumb grazed over your lips as he smirked at you. He slid his finger over your plump lips a few times before pressing it into your mouth. You took it desperately, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

“So impatient, angel. What? You want me to touch you?” He asked you with such smugness you wanted to tell him to shut up but you couldn't. The only thing on your mind was his massive hard dick beneath you. He began to kiss down your jawline to your neck and you whimpered. You didn’t get to feel this last time or at least you hadn’t remembered it but god you wish you did. You tilted your head back to give him more space. He let his lips graze your warm soft skin before you started to leave little bites and nips, marking you again. You bit your lip in an attempt to muffle your moans. Jude knew exactly what he was doing and he was playing you. He now had you distracted by his lips on your neck you failed to remember his other hand, wet with your spit sliding through your folds, quick to place his thumb onto your clit and tease your entrance with his finger. He pushed one finger inside of you. He hit your sweet spot out the gate. Jude smirked in a devilishly handsome way. You couldn’t help but clench around the singular digit. He began to speed up whilst pushing in another finger. A loud, squelching sound filled the room as he played with you. “Good girl.” Jude praised you as your eyes began to roll back and the pace of his fingers sped up. His thumb keeping up its motions on your clit. Involuntarily, your hips grind on his hand as you quickly grow addicted to the feeling of him. Your back arched as he kept at it for ages until you were cumming all over his finger. You covered them in your slick as he brought you to your first high of the night.

“Jude. Please, I want more.” You begged him with a whimper as he slowly removed his fingers from your pussy. You were practically shaking and the only thing you wanted was more of him. He brought his slick covered fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan. While he attempted to tease you, you had had enough. You made quick work and wrapped your hand around his massive length beginning to pump his cock in your hand as you let some of your spit drip onto it. Jude let his head drop back into the pillow behind him not anticipating your eagerness. You loved the way he reacted to you. You moved your other hand to take his balls into it, eliciting more groans from him. You wish you remembered the first time better because his cock looked so fucking good it had your mouth watering as it began to leak precum. The prevalent vein running along the underside had you swallowing to keep yourself from drooling. Jude grabbed your hips and moved you. He pinned you beneath him now, pushing your legs further apart, settling himself in between them. He took his cock in his hand and slapped the tip softly against your wet pussy.

“I’ll give you more, baby. Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” Jude roughly asked you dragging his cock through your folds. You nodded desperately reaching for him and pulling him into you. You gripped his muscular arms, digging your nails into his skin as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly stretched you out as he pushed inside, your walls already clenching around him, squeezing his cock. “Tell me, Y/N. Tell me you want me.”

“Please. Please. I need you to fuck me. I want your cock so bad.” You whined. You couldn’t believe this man had you begging like that. You bite into his lip, causing him to laugh. When he leans back, your eyes are almost closed. You moan, arching your back, and he pushes completely into you. He begins to thrust his hips and the discomfort from his massive size slips into pure pleasure. He moves in a hypnotic rhythmic pace, loving the feeling of your tight pussy squeeze him in the dead of the night.

“Fuck. This pussy’s so good, angel. Just for me, yeah?” Jude mumbled leaning down to press his lips to yours. You nodded and absentmindedly smiled at his words but were unable to get any words out as his thrusts began to get harder and faster. You moan and your eyes shut tight when he repeatedly hits your g spot. Jude’s cock is throbbing. He can barely focus. He was probably too drunk the first to really relish in how fucking good this felt. The coil in your stomach was tightening with every stroke of his cock. Your orgasm was imminent but when he slipped his hand in between your bodies to play with your clit your whined digging your nails into him further. Your mouth dropped open as you could feel your slick drip down your thighs and all over him. “Good girl—just like that– fuck. Cum f’me.” Jude groaned, moving his hips with skill. His cock glistening with your arousal. Your body is on fire, and neither of you does anything to dampen the flame, only adding gasoline to it.

“Jude.. Jude.. wait.” You whined as another climax began to blended into the one you were struggling to come down from.

“Cum f’me angel. Cum with me this time. Gimme one more. Be a good girl f’me.” Jude whispered into your ear nibbling on it and simultaneously you spasmed around his length once more clenching tightly around him. “Fuck!” He growled, nudging his face in the nape of your neck as his warmth began to fill you up. He pushes his cum deep into your pussy, fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts began to slow and then still. Jude held himself up with one hand while his dominant one came to caress your cheek. He softly swiped some stray stands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. He kissed you softly with a hum. “That was the best reason I’ve ever been woken up in the middle of the night.” He smiled at you as he flopped over dramatically to your side.

“Yeah?” You questioned him with a breathy giggle now exhausted. He pulled you tight into his side.

“Hmm. You should’ve just stayed with me to begin with. This could’ve been round two.” He whispered pressing kisses to your temple.

“You want round two?” You cheekily asked running your hands over his bare chest, his skin warm and slick with a sheen of sweat. He was impossibly sexy.

“Yeah, gimme a bit more of you.” He cooed and dragged your body on top of his. You obliged happily and in the end didn’t get much sleep till the morning. And as that morning’s sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden light across the room, the rest of the house was still asleep. The quiet hush of dawn wrapping everything in a gentle cocoon. The early light painted Jude’s features in a warm glow, making him look almost ethereal, like a dream made flesh. There was something intoxicating about seeing him like this—unguarded, vulnerable, bathed in the morning light. Jude stirred slightly, his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as he murmured something soft and unintelligible in his sleep. You smiled against his skin, your fingers tracing light patterns across his back, a silent promise of affection and comfort. For a moment, you simply lay there, wrapped in the stillness of the morning, your breaths syncing in a quiet, intimate dance. The world outside the room felt distant, irrelevant, as if nothing else mattered but the feel of his body against your, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. As the minutes passed, Jude began to wake, his body slowly coming alive under your touch. He shifted, his hand finding its way into your hair as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him, meeting his half-lidded gaze, and the sleepy smile he gave you was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

“Morning,” he whispered, his voice rough with sleep, and you couldn’t help but smile back, your heart swelling with a quiet joy that only these secret, stolen moments could bring.

“Morning,” you whispered back, your voice just as soft. You shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing against the stubble that shadowed his skin. Jude sighed, contentment settling over him like a warm blanket as he pulled you even closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You stayed like that, entwined in the early morning light, the world outside forgotten as you indulged in the simple pleasure of being together, of holding each other close. In that quiet, tender moment, nothing else mattered. Last night was sex you would always remember and you were starting to realize it may be hard to forget it and even harder to forget Jude.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 2 - Wine & Tequila xx

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham smut

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pandapetals · 1 month ago

Text

Late Night

Logan's up late grading papers when you come into his office and sit on his lap.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

The hallway was dimly lit, the soft glow from Logan’s classroom spilling into the corridor. You rubbed your tired eyes, feeling the weight of the day pulling at you, but curiosity and a little concern kept you from heading straight to bed. Logan had been absent from your side for a couple of hours now, and you couldn’t sleep without knowing what was keeping him up so late.

As you approached his classroom, you peeked your head inside, leaning slightly against the doorframe. There he was, sitting at his desk, his rugged face softened by the warm light from the lamp beside him. His eyes were fixed on a piece of paper in his hand, a red pen in the other. He was grading, even though the clock on the wall clearly read 2:19 a.m.

“Can’t sleep?” Logan asked, his voice low and gruff, though he didn’t bother looking up from the essay he was marking.

“No, not when my bed is empty,” you teased, stepping into the room, your arms crossed in mock frustration.

Logan smirked at that, finally setting the paper down and giving you a slow, appreciative look. “C’mere,” he said, beckoning you with a tilt of his head. “You can sit in my lap until I’m done grading.”

You raised an eyebrow, hands on your hips. “I thought you said you didn’t need to do grading tonight. Weren’t you bragging about how far ahead you were in your work? The ever-efficient Professor Howlett?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, a playful gleam in his eye. “Yeah, well, turns out some of these essays need a little more attention than I thought.” He gestured to the stack of papers on his desk with the red pen. “And don’t think I didn’t hear you complaining about your pile of unread Shakespeare analyses earlier.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not the one staying up until 2 a.m. playing professor when I’ve got a perfectly good bed waiting for me.”

Logan chuckled, his gaze lingering on you as you crossed the room, drawn to him like you always were. “If you’re offering a better alternative to these papers, I’m all ears, darlin’.”

You stopped beside his desk, leaning against the edge as you glanced down at the messy stack of student work. “Honestly, I think your students should be thanking me for saving them from whatever snarky comments you’re about to leave on their essays.”

He smirked, tapping the paper in front of him with his pen. “This one here wrote that Alexander the Great was defeated by Julius Caesar in 1540. I think a little snark is called for.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, they’re not exactly coming to my English class. I can’t fix everything, Logan.”

He grunted in response, his smirk still firmly in place. “And yet, you try. Saving kids from poor grammar and historical inaccuracies one essay at a time.”

“Well, someone has to,” you quipped, leaning down and resting your hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. “But I still think you’d be more useful in bed.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Is that a fact?”

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting his shoulder. “Yes, it’s a fact. And since you’re the history professor, you should know I don’t take facts lightly.”

He set his pen down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. “I think I can get behind that kind of logic,” he murmured, his voice low and warm against your ear.

You settled into his lap, your arms sliding around his neck as you looked down at him with an exaggerated sigh. “You know, I had all these big plans for us tonight. A nice, relaxing evening. But no, you had to go and get all studious.”

Logan chuckled, resting his forehead against yours, his hands gently stroking your sides. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said, his voice a little softer now, a promise hidden in the gruffness. “As soon as I’m done here.”

You gave him a mock pout. “I don’t know if I believe you. You say that now, but then you’ll get all caught up in some ancient war and forget I exist.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a smile as he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours. “If I’m quoting ancient wars in my sleep, you can hit me. But right now?” His hands slid up your back, pulling you a little closer. “I’d rather be paying attention to you.”

Your heart fluttered, the tiredness from earlier forgotten as you melted into his warmth, the papers and grading abandoned for now. “Well,” you whispered, a teasing smile playing on your lips, “as long as I’ve got your attention…”

“You’ve always got my attention,” Logan rumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Even when I’m pretending to be a responsible professor.”

You laughed, tangling your fingers in his hair as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I think I might have to take over your class for you. Can’t have you falling asleep at your desk again.”

Logan huffed in amusement, his hand tracing lazy circles on your back. “Good luck with that. You’ve got enough on your plate without adding my classes to the mix.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and letting the quiet between you settle, comfortable and warm. “Maybe. But I’d still do it if it meant dragging you to bed earlier.”

Logan chuckled, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close. “You’re lucky I’m already crazy about you, or I might take offense at that.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re not loving all this attention, Mr. Howlett,” you teased, your voice growing softer as exhaustion finally started to catch up with you. “Admit it—you like being fussed over.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I’d rather have you in my lap than any of these damn essays. That’s for sure.”

“Well,” you said, your eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, “then it sounds like we’re on the same page.”

Logan’s hand came to rest on your back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns as he leaned back in his chair. “We’ve always been on the same page, darlin’. Now let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep on me.”

With a quiet laugh, you reluctantly lifted your head, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Only if you promise to follow me.”

Logan’s smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “I have a better idea,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in that way that always sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could ask what he meant, Logan stood, pulling you up with him in one smooth motion. You barely had time to register the shift before he swept you off your feet—literally. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you let out a surprised laugh as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Logan!” you squealed, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance. “You know, I can walk perfectly fine on my own.”

Logan’s lips quirked into that familiar smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement as he glanced down at you. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. There was something about being in his arms, the strength of him so close and the warmth of his body pressed against yours, that made it impossible to resist him.

“I swear, you’re just trying to show off,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you effortlessly down the hallway.

“Maybe I am,” Logan drawled, his voice softening as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “But you’re not complainin’, are you?”

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on the back of his neck. “No. I’m not.”

Logan chuckled, his grip tightening around you just a little as he carried you into your shared bedroom, the door creaking softly as it swung open. He set you down gently on the bed, your back sinking into the soft sheets, but before you could move, he leaned over you, his hands bracing on either side of you, caging you in.

“Logan…” you started, but the teasing lilt in your voice was quickly cut off as he dipped his head, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, warm and featherlight.

“You’ve been stressin’ yourself out too much, darlin’,” he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. “Stayin’ up late, workin’ yourself to the bone...”

You sighed, your body already relaxing under his touch, the tension you’d been carrying for days melting away. “You’ve been doing the same,” you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently to get him to look at you. “We’re both guilty.”

Logan paused, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—soft, but determined. “Yeah, but I’m gonna take care of you tonight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “No more work, no more thinkin’. Just us.”

You smiled, your heart warming at his words. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a soft smile, his hand sliding to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your lips as his eyes searched yours. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice rougher now, filled with concern. “You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “Especially now.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away—just the two of you, wrapped up in this quiet moment of shared tenderness. He leaned down again, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss that sent warmth flooding through your chest.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke—just the steady rise and fall of your breathing, the quiet connection between you enough to fill the space.

“You know,” you whispered, brushing your fingers along the side of his face, “you’re really good at this whole ‘taking care of me’ thing.”

Logan smirked, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Told you, darlin’. I’d do just about anything for you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, your heart swelling with affection for this man who, despite his gruffness and rough edges, always knew exactly how to make you feel loved.

“Well,” you said, your voice teasing again, “in that case, I’m going to need you to carry me everywhere from now on. Think you can handle that, Mr. Howlett?”

Logan chuckled, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might just make it a habit.”

You laughed softly, tugging him down beside you on the bed, your legs tangling with his as you snuggled closer. Logan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him, his hand stroking up and down your back in soothing, rhythmic motions.

As you lay there, wrapped in his warmth, you felt the last bit of stress slip away, replaced by the quiet comfort of being with him, of knowing that no matter how busy or overwhelming life got, you’d always have this—him, you, and the love that made everything else seem so much smaller.

#fluff #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #x men logan #logan x reader #mcu #marvel #logan xmen #wolverine x reader #reader insert #logan x you #professor logan #professor howlett #x men #days of future past

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themultifandomgal · 1 year ago

Text

Sister Shelby- Fainting

All YN's life she has struggled with fainting. The first time she lost conscious was when she was only a year old. The baby had been crying none stop, then in Polly grays arms the little one passed out. The doctors had said it was because of her not able to catch her breath but as the years went on the fainting got worse, especially when YN started going through puberty.

13 Years Old

"YN your gonna be late for school" Tommy scolds the youngest Shelby storming into her room. YN groans throwing her bed sheets over her head "now YN!"

"Don't feel well"

"You just want to get out of school" Tommy rips off the quilt

"Fine" YN grunts and gets out of bed. But as quick as she's up, she's back down passed out on the floor. Of course Tommy panics and calls for Polly who runs upstairs. Only a minute later YN is awake again

"Ok no school today" Polly places her arms on her hips as Tommy helps his sister back into bed

"I think we need a doctor Poll"

The doctors checked YN out and found that her heartbeat is irregular which is what has been causing her fainting spells.

15 Years Old

YN can now tell when she is going to faint and what could trigger it. One of them being excessive exercise. Now it's no secret YNs teacher, Mr Jones doesn't like her just because she has the Shelby name. The teacher had announced that they would be running around the field at the back of the school, YN immediately protests saying she can't run that far, but the teacher had said if YN didn't partake then she could expect 100 lines and the ruler across the hand. So YN begin running.

After running once she was told to run again, and again and again. No matter how many times YN said she needed to stop Mr Jones threatened the poor girl and so she carried on. She did this until she passes out on the field, thankfully her friend Eleanor saw and ran to Mr Jones, but he didn't believe her.

When YN came around she decided to just walk out of the school and head home

"What are you doing home from school?" Arthur scolds seeing his little sister walk through the front door

"Mr Jones made me run even when I told him I couldn't. He said it was either run or have the ruler. I passed out but he didn't believe Eleanor when she told him" Arthur's eyes widen

"Go to bed and rest. Let me speak to Tommy and Aunt Poll"

This caused the Shelby brothers and Aunt head to the school and Tommy even got the teacher fired!

18 Years Old

It's a hot day in Birmingham and YN is sat in the betting shop helping Arthur with the books

"I'm gonna get a Drink" YN sighs feeling the heat. Arthur nods his head not looking up. YN stands up but immediately her eyesight starts to disappear and a ringing starts in her ear. Before she can even sit back down Arthur finds his sister on the floor passed out. Knowing exactly what to do Arthur gets up from his seat and first of all checks that YN hasn't hurt herself on anything. He then rolls her so she's on her side. Tommy walks out of his office and frowns

"Has she fainted?" Tommy asks looking at Arthur and YN

"Yeah" Arthur sighs

"When she walks up take her home. It's so hot in here"

"Ok"

22 Years Old

YN is now an adult who has just moved into a house with her boyfriend Alexander. At first the Shelby's were not happy about this and they worried for their sister especially since Alex has yet to see one of YNs fainting episodes as she is now more aware of her body and when she may pass out. YN comes home from a long day of shopping when she begins to feel faint. Placing her bags down in the kitchen she slide herself down the kitchen counters and sits on the floor. Normally this would do the trick, but today this isn't what happens. Alex knows about his girlfriends irregular heart and he knows that she faints because of it, but he's always had one of her brothers or Polly around. So when he walks through the front door and into the kitchen, panic sets in seeing YN on the floor. Immediately he runs up to her and starts to try and wake her up, but it doesn't work

"YN. YN can you hear me?" remembering Tommy once checking her over for injury's he does the same. Then he remembers that Arthur would check the time to see how long she was unresponsive for, so he does just that. Unbeknownst to hun Tommy has also entered the home of the young couple and is watching Alex tend to YN "ok come on YN isn't been a minute since I've come home. I need you to wake up"

Luckily it's not to much time later, maybe about 20 seconds, YN finally starts to wake up

"Hey YN, how you feeling?"

"Tired"

"Ok. Let's get you a drink and put you to bed" this is when Alex notices Tommy stood watching the interaction "Tommy what are you doing here?"

"Was coming to see if YN wanted to head to the Garrison but I can see that's going to be a no"

"Sorry Tom"

"Don't apologise. Your in safe hands here. Take tomorrow off" with that Tommy leaves.

For YN hearing her brother is ok with her relationship means the absolute world to her.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #sister shelby #shelby sister #peaky blinders sister

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heyhihellosworld · 1 year ago

Text

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: Trent would do everything for his daughter even if it's out of his comfort-zone but maybe something, or someone can make it more bearable.

Warnings: Single parent, talk about non-present parents, horses, angst, smut, fluff, dad!trent, young pregnancy (19/20)

Notes: I don't know but this idea just came to me randomly when I was in the stables and I just find it funny to see these out of place parents, especially dads so yeah. Random but fun to write

Being a single parent wasn't always easy. Trent found it hard to be as present as possible, to spend as much time with his daughter as he wanted and still succeed in his football career. It took a lot of time, effort and help but he managed well, being the best dad possible and still develop in his football. It took a toll on him but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Since he had been a little kid football had been his life, his goal and the only thing that mattered. For so long it was all that consumed his life, until Ella came along. It was never the plan, never his intention after the one-night stand he'd had but it happened and after a rocky year he had full custody of his baby.

After that his priorities changed because he was no longer alone, he couldn't be selfish anymore, he couldn't think about himself because he had a little girl at home. A little girl relying on him for food, comfort and love and suddenly, she was what mattered the most.

Less to say Trent didn't have a lot of free-time, already juggling more than the time could wrap up but he didn't really miss anything, he felt complete. The only thing he sometimes missed was dating. Going out was nowadays almost impossible, even though his brothers and parents tried to help out and babysit as much as they could he didn't feel fine with leaving her in their responsibility too long knowing they already helped out more than they should. Trent hadn't dated someone in what felt like years nor had he gotten any action regurarly. He didn't mind it, but he could miss it some days. Not only the sex but the social life outside of his work. That's why it felt like a blessing when Ella got older and he had to engage in some of her free-time activities. It wasn't like before of course, this was mothers and fathers with their kids not drunk idiots in a club in some VIP-room. But it was still some kind of social life, some people he could talk to and sometimes hang out with outside of the footballpitch.

For him it was obvious she would play football. It was what he'd anticiapated for a long time but the little girl said no. She didn't wanna play football, she wanted to take horseback-lessons, and as the nice father he was he didn't pressure her into anything but said ok, she would get to take her horse-riding lessons if that was what made her happy.

The four-year old was over-joyed, not Trent. He was as far away from his comfort zone he could imagine when he stepped onto the yard with his estatic daughter. It was muddy and bloody cold but he didn't say anything, just smiled at Ella who blabbered away.

Anything for her

It was all he repeated in his head to get himself to not jump into the car again.

He could hear his teammates laughing in his head as he stood in the small house which apparently was called the club-house. When he had told them about his daughters wish he had got his head nagged in with teasing, but hey, anything for her.

He got informed of how it worked, where the list was, where the different buildings were located, how he handled the horse, that he'd have to fix it up before riding.

He nodded along pretending he understood just fine before walking after Ella as she hurried into the stable. The smell was the first thing that hit him, then the horses. What the fuck was he doing here, why hadn't he asked somebody who knew something about this to take her? Well probably because she had been so excited for him to come along.

"Look, look!" Ella prompted, grinning from ear to ear as she pointed to one of the horses "Which one am I having? Which one daddy?"

Trent shook his head "Uh, what was his name? Mons?" "Monty!"

Trent hummed, nodding as they walked along the line of horses, "Here it is" he told her and she squealed with excitement at the tiny, fat little horse that stood in the box, glaring at them from inside.

Trent stood a few meters away as one of the people who helped out in the stables showed Elle how to tack up. He could feel the stares as he tried to look at what they were doing, trying to memorize but nah, it was too much stuff. Ella almost bounced on the spot as everything was ready, Trent yet to touch the horse that was still glaring at them.

Trent sat on the cold tree stand as he watched his daughter wiggle around on the horse. If it wasn't for the biggest smile on her face he would've tried to talk her into something else but he couldn't, and it didn't matter how bitter he felt. He would have to learn and show up, put on his well practiced fake-smile, for her.

"Are you really Trent Alexander-Arnold?"

The sound of his name made him look up, taken aback by the mention. He hadn't even thought about being spotted or recognised here which he of course should have.

"Eh, I am" he choke before he even located the woman who spoke but when he did he felt like his choked reply was just right. Before him stood a beautiful woman, she didn't look like a mom, for sure not. She looked about his age, maybe a year or so younger than him.

She was absolutely stunning, her beutiful face held a warm and almost teasing expression. Eyes glimmering, like she was mocking him for his whereabouts.

"Wow" she hummed, sitting down next to him so naturally it almost made him envy her confidence. "So what in the world brings the famous footballer to the stables?" She asked, seemingly unbothered but the smirk she tried to hide leaked through, making him pull a grimace at her.

"Well, my daughter wanted to take horseback-lessons... so I took her to do it, silently hoping she wouldn't like it but now I guess this is my new place to be" he muttered and she chuckled softly "That's sweet of you"

Trent shrugged his shoulders, looking over at her as she sat so casually but still looked so elegant and beautiful. "What about you?" "Well I also happen to have a daughter who loves this stinky hole" she hummed, peeking his interest even more "Really?" he questioned, his eyes full of interest as she hummed "yeah, why?"

"No no I just... you look young to be a mother" he revealed, pulling a smile from her "thank you, I guess. But I was young when I got her" she admitted, making Trent nod along "How old are you?"

"23" she answered shortly making him hum "And what's your name?"

She chuckled, giving him a loopsided smile as she raised one eyebrow "Why are you so interested?"

Trent shrugged "I just am, you're not gonna tell me your name?"

"Y/n, it's y/n" she answered politely, a silence settling over the two as they watched their children try to lead the horse in the right direction.

It had been a stressful afternoon for you, hurrying home after work to make it in time to Amelies riding-lesson. But you'd made it, not quite on time but good enough.

Amelies riding lessons was nothing you'd been too big of a fan of, not only because you knew nothing about horses but also because it was darn expensive. But of course you couldn't say no to your precious daughter when she so sweetly asked you, so now you found yourself on this tree bench every week, looking as your daughter held the biggest smile on her face, and it felt worth it.

"I don't mean to be forward" you voiced quietly after a few moments, "It's fine" he hummed, turning his attention to you, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.

He was even more beautiful face to face, so close up, than on the tv-screen and you still had a hard time realizing it was actually the football player sitting next to you on the stable stand.

You had of course read gossip sites and rumors about him and his daughter, some saying he was indeed secretly married and other saying it was a failed one-night stand leading him to be a single parent. You didn't know what it was but you were intrigued.

"Are you married?"

Your question didn't surprise him, his eyes fleeting back from watching the group to you again. "Well-no"

"No?"

He shook his head, curls flying all over the place, your face told him you wanted to know more and he gave in, he knew darn well about all the rumours flying around about him and his daughter, and especially about the mother. "I am not married. Me and Ella's mother is not in any committed relationship. In fact it was a one night stand, ending up in her calling me and telling me she was pregnant and after a long hard time she pulled out, and I am now a single parent"

You hummed "is her mother in the picture at all?"

"Rarely, whenever it suits her" he shrugged, not really understanding why he told you all this. "What about you?" You chuckled bitterly "Nah, I was in a relationship when I got pregnant, but like I said I was young, barely 19 and our relationship was as serious as they are at that age so when things got real he bailed"

"So, do you have any contact?"

"No, I haven't really heard from him since I told him I was pregnant, I forced him to meet her once" you told him bitterly, the air tensing but you didn't mind and neither did he. It was nothing secretive and something you both had moved on from so talking about it felt like a natural part of an introduction because it was a big part of who you were, big part of your families.

When the short lesson was over Ella was bouncing as she ran up to Trent. You stood next to him, waiting for Amelie whilst continuing to small-talk. You couldn't help but smile as he kneeled down to scoop her up in his arms with the brightest smile. "Did you enjoy it princess?"

"I love it! Thank you daddy" he chuckled as he let her down again "Of course sweetie, are you all done now so we can go home and cook?"

You watched as the little girl nodded before looking away, Trent saw it aswell "It's okay, we can stay a little longer" he smiled at her shy look making her face lit up again "I just wanna say bye to my friends" she replied, kissing his cheek before running up the small bump into the stables again.

You felt like pouting at the sweet interaction but stopped from it seeing they were strangers and it would probably put him off. "She is really adorable" you smiled as he stood up again, smiling small.

"Thank you"

"Have you been here for a long time?"

"Here?"

"Have your daughter been riding for a long time?" he corrected making you hum "Well nah not that long, a couple of months" you answered. More than that wasn't said and it felt like a small relief when both of your daughters came running down from the stable giggling, breaking the sudden awkvard tension. You smiled at your daughter, her hapiness making you happy.

"Mommy, did you see?!" she squeeled as she raised her arms as a sign for you to lift her up which you did with a grin. "I did see, you were really good today" you smiled, loving her happy face as she bubbled with hapiness, all giddy.

You put her down when she started to wriggle, packing down all the things in your stable-bag. "Mom"

"Yeah" you hummed "Do you think I can play with Ella some day?"

You looked up, smiling softly as you paused "I'm sure we could fix something some time" you promised making her smile again, breaking away from the small shy energy. You could see that she was tired, even though she was blabbering and bouncing the tiredness started to droop onto her.

When she yawned you chucled, picking her up which she gladly accepted, snuggling into your shoulder.

You waved goodbye at Trent who smiled your way before stropping Amelie in the car to drive home.

Since that first time in the stables Trent and Ella went every week, every week coming to seek you out, ask you about your week and how you'd been since last time.

What in the beginning was a dreadful day for Trent slowly started to become an enjoyful one. You liked the stables just fine but it didn't get worse by seeing Trent.

Whenever he wasn't there it was a huge disapointment, something you were all to aware of.

He had became a good friend, your daughters spending time outside of the stables as well which prompted you to meet more than once a week.

The attraction was there, always but of course you never went with it since the kids were around and dating with a kid or even more so sleeping around whilst having a kid was not something you found appropriate or fair for her at the moment so you didn't do anything, didn't say anything and if he felt the same way he didn't say it.

You learnt more and more for every time you met and got more and more smitten. You understood why everybody was fawning over him so bad. You'd always liked him on the pitch, enjoyed watching him play but this was something completely different than that.

It was a sunday you realized how smitten you actually was with the guy. He had suggested to meet up for the kids to play so you could watch football together. It was United against City so the expectations where high as you sat in your sofa together. The girls in Amelies room playing.

He had been such a softie, resting his hand on your thigh as you sat closer than appropriate, conversing and laughing about the game. He told you stories about himself, about Ella and it was all so soft.

His eyes had been warm and he had been so sweet, cooking all of you lunch and helping you fix the new coffee table you hadn't put together yet. It had felt so domestic and it had made you realize how much you actuallly liked the guy.

But you hadn't spoken a word about it. It was too complicated to get involved with anyone. No man had gotten introduced to Amelie except from her dad but other than that you had stayed far away from that part of you. Only ever being with someone when Amelie wasn't home.

It was a delicate matter with kids and you didn't want to risk anything, plus, you had no idea if Trent even liked you in the slightest so you just kept your mouth shut, enjoying what was now.

A rare evening without Amelie or work was spent out. You were still young, still enjoying the thrill of a good club with friends so the bar was the place to go.

Your best friend begged to go to this new open bar, more similar to an night-club than bar but you didn't mind.

The first hour was spent upstairs in one of the more reserved booths, drinking and gossiping, spilling the recent tea and of coure the main topic was Trent.

She was dying to hear about it and you were dying to telll her. "No way he said that" she gasped, clapping her hands "Wow you go y/n, this is honestly wild"

You giggled, swallowing the rest of your drink "I know"

"What's next then? You almost kissed in his car and now?" "Now nothing" you sighed, shaking your head "What do you mean nothing"

"I mean that I haven't heard of him since then"

"Well text him then!" she exclaimed "I dont know" "Oh come on y/n you gotta do it, you are so smitten by him already and you never meet anyone"

"Lets drop this topic for tonight" you decided, sweeping the hard parts under the rug for now.

"Fine, let's go down and get the party started for real" she beamed sensing not to push you further right now.

"Yes please"

She giggled, hooking your arm with hers as you went down the sketchy stair to the club area, the night club you needed.

You were deep in your cups which was why you weren't sure if you actually saw who you thought you did or if you were hallucinating

"Y/n! Is that Trent??" your friend gaped making you realize it was actaully Trent and you gigggled, pulling her along with you as you tripped up to him, facing him with a bright smile

He was with a couple of friends, some you would probably recognize if it wasn't for the slight womble in your head

"Y/n??"

Trent eyed you up and down with a giant smirk, sensing your drunkness but he too were deep in his cups, immidiately dragging both you and your friend to their table.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, handing you another drink and pulling you to sit on his lap as there was limited space on the table he and a couple of his friends shared. Your friend immideately hitting it off with some of them.

"I have a rare night out" you grinned

"How convinient, I have to" he revealed, squeezing your thigh where your short dress had ridden up.

"How convinient" you smirked right back at him, your eyes dropping down to his lips a little too often

It wan't long until you couln't resist the urge to kiss him anymore. The clear part of our head would probably stop it right now because it was compliacted, you had Amelie, you couldn't just date around and bring people here and there but the rational part of your brain wasn't working right at the moment. Only wanting some sort of normality, some sort of attention tonight and Trent gladly gave it to you, so you took it.

The soft kiss turned heated, passionate and neeedy, hands grasping desperately at each other as your turned around on his lap. Only when the people around you started to make noises did you break apart for the moment, enjoying the night on his lap, his mouth on yours and hands caressing you whenever the moment allowed it. It was something completely different like this, when the kids wasn't around, when neither of you had to take the parent role, when you both were deep in your cups and didn't hold back. It was something completely different but so relieving.

He asked you out, actually asked you out. Not asking for a playdate with the kids, no. Alone, with you and it felt like the nerves would explode. You had met him for months now but it felt different after the bar meeting.

It had been heated, promising more than just parents of two friends. No, that had showed you he wanted more as well. The kisses shared, the touches ad the late, drunken question to come home with him. It all indicated that he wanted more of whatever it was between you.

You read his text again. You had agreeed on dinner in his flat. Neither of you wanted to do something public. Still it felt nerve-wracking. You hadn't been at his place before, always at yours for various reasons.

You hadn't gone home with him that night but what if he wanted something in that way tonight`?

did you want anything like that? Hell yes

How did you act with him, alone? Without being drunk

What do you wear to something like this?

You had no idea

After what felt like forever you finally emerged from your car outside of his complex, wearing sweats and a hoodie as he had told you after asking and making your way inside.

It was darn expensive, exclusive, luxaury celebrity building. You felt hella out of place, not only because of your clothes as you got escorted up to his floor. The secod you saw him though, it felt okay. The smile twinkling in his eyes as he welcomed you inside.

"This feels a bit weird" you smiled, sitting on his big comfy sofa. Stretching out your tired body on the comfortable furnitor.

Trent chuckled, pursing his lips "Well"

"Not bad" you promised "But weird, I'm not used to be alone with you. It's always the girls or the horny mums"

At that Trent couldn't contain his laughter "Horny mums?"

"Yeah you should hear them talk" you scoffed, shaking your head at them.

"I do, trust me" he chuckled, plopping down next to you in the sofa with two glasses of wine. "I just choose to ignore them most of the time" he smiled, handing you one of the glasses.

Your eyebrows raised as you turned to him with an unimpressed look "most of the times?"

"Well yeah, I mean I did not ignore you, did I?" he teased, showing his beutiful smile. Your eyes rolled "no but I'm not talking about how hot it would be to be fucked by a footballer or how perfect your back looks to scratch"

"Why don't you though?"

You choke on the wine you sipped, spluttering it out in your lap as you tried to contain yourself with laughter You looked at him deadpan, "you want me to?"

His shoulders shrugged and his face pulled a grimace, smirking at your flustered state "I wouldn't mind it"

"Really?" you hummed, looking at him from under your lashes while sipping your wine. Gaining your confidenece back "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" you ironized with a high-pitched voice.

Trent laughed, raising his glass towards you "Take away the irony and we are home"

You couldn't help but give him a bright smile, leaning your head towards him before straightening up to do your real performance. His eyes followed you amusedly as he watched you clear your throat before you repeated "Oh Trent, I wanna scratch your back while you fuck me so hard" but only this time you tried to make it sound real, moaning out the words with an additional moan afterwards.

Trent's amused face dropped slightly as you smirked at him "Better?" "Mhm" he nodded, giving you an impressed look "Wow, that's actually wild" he hummed causing you to laugh at him, shaking your head at his dramatics "That explains how you women are so good at faking things"

You hummed, nodding "Sure but you can hear a clear difference from an fake moan and a real moan"

Trent hummed, pouting his lips in thought "well sure"

You pursued tour lips "Do you know the differences?" Trent shrugged "Sometimes, I think most of the times I can tell"

"Have someone ever really faked it with you?" you giggled, "Sure" Trent chuckled, internaly palming himself for revealing that to you.

"Why?" "I don't bloody know, I guess they didn't like it?"

You laughed "Oh poor Trent, are you not that talented in bed?"

He only scoffed, giving you a face that only made you laugh harder "I'm sure am talented enough"'

You giggled, crawling closer to him before settling in his lap. It didn't feel weird, you had been in this position before. You wanted to take it one step further, wanted to be with him.

"What if I need proof?" you whispered, your voicie low and all serious as he swallowed, giving you a heated gaze "Well I think we can fix that, don't you think?" "I was hoping" you smirked, immediately atttacking his lips with yours.

His hands fell on your ass, pulling you closer as your hands tangled in his curls.

Screw all the complicated shit, screw all responsibilites. You would fix it all later, talk it all through later. This wasn't bound to change anything, except it was. You felt more than you wanted to admit.

Screw the feelings, you needed him right now and he felt the same.

His hands started to undress you, flinging your hoodie off and you let him but when his hands left your boobs and started to tease your underwear you stopped him.

"Hey" you mumbled, immideately grabbing his attention, brown eyes searching yours for any signs that he'd crossed the line.

You gently stroke his neck, smiling at his attentive expression. "Did I do something?" he asked softly, relief filling his body as you shook your head. "No no, I just-" you began, looking away from his intense gaze

"What?" he murmured, gently angling your face so that you looked at him again.

Your face felt warm as he looked at you "I-I just haven't had sex in.... forever" you admited shyly

"Forever? you do have a kid, right?"

You giggled loving how he tried to ease the embarrsament as your lips graced his shoulder. "A year" you clarified, looking away from his face as he raised his eyebrows in supriese "Really, wow I feel like i've been in a dryspell forever but a year... I would've alredy have cum now"

You giggled again, hiding your embaressment in admitting this to your lext lay but Trent was different. It wasn't just some hook-up, it was Trent. Someone you already had found a liking towards. Someone you felt comfortable with and trusted, someone you didn't feel embarrassed around.

He kept a loving smile on his face, kissing your cheek sweetly before speaking again. "It's nothing, as long as you want this we can take it as slowly as you want to and if you don't, we don't" he mumbled softly against the soft skin of your shoulder.

"I want to, just... take it slow" you breathed out, his head noddding in recognition as he continued his ministrations on your neck and collarbone. Leaving marks like a teenager would on your sensitive skin. It made you giggle, plafully pushing him away but he just gave you his millon-dollar grin and continued, knowing you liked it.

You started to ease into it. Not feeling as stiff anymore as you moved your body against his, making him let out an apreciative sound. "Yeah?" he mumbled, a word so short but still so hot to hear from his lips.

His hand creeped down your sweatpants, gently teasing the hem of your underwear, tripping under the waistband only to crawl back up. It was all a part of his slow show and you started to realise what you had really asked him.

You kissed him sweetly, passionately but soft. Searching his mouth with yours, hands grasping on his broad shoulders, slowly creeping down to finally feel his gorgously sexy abs.

His breath fanned your jaw as he watched your face every movement, only slipping his hand into your panties for real when you made strong eye-contact with him, pleadig with your eyes for him to keep going.

And keep going he did, finally lettig his fingers stroke over your swollen clit. His fingers moved expertisely, knowing exactly where it would feel the best and where to be to drive your mind absolutely crazy and needy.

He was so focused on your face as you let him play with you, enjoying it way to much to ever ask him to stop.

When your mind started to function again you let your hand slip under the waistband of his calvins. Quickly wrapping around his hard dick to give him some attention as well. Too soaked up in your own for quiet some time already.

He didn't complain, his eyes closing briefly and a hard breath escaping his open lips as you stroked him firmly. Trying to focus on him whilst he brought you to the edge, slipping two fingers inside of you.

Your body had gotten completely loose now. Moving on it's own accord, not caring anymore, not controlled by nerves but pleasure.

He could see exactly when your orgasm started to climb to it's top. Not daring to stop as your voice pleaded him not to. Your hand stopped aroud his dick, unable to focus as your orgasm washed over you. The sounds you let out fell deaf on your own ears, not to Trent's who only got harder as your body shook, fingers slowly retreating as you came down. Not wanting to overstimulate you at this state.

"Okay?" he smiled softly, the giggle you let out sounded free and happy "more than okay" you smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips lovingly. Hand resuming it's pace on his hard cock.

Soon enough you tugged at his boxers, wanting them off, wanting him inside of you.

He let you do what you wanted, helping to take off his boxers as he helped you out of your sweatpants. His hands gently cupped your breasts over your brah as you looked at each other. "You sure you want this?" he hummed, needing the consent "Yes, you?" you hummed back softly, "All I wanted to do since I first saw you" he consented, bringing a smile on your lips as he guided his tip to your entrance.

He rubbed oer your sensitive nerves, giving you time to relax again from the initional reaction to feeling his dick against the place you wanted him.

"Relax yeah?" he hummed softly, kissing over your chest, smiling against your skin as you complied. Relaxing your body against the soft material.

He fially pushed the tip in, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch. His lips a nice distraction, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you passionately. Breathing in and swallowing your sounds.

It felt like an enternity until he finally stopped, fully inside you. You panted against his lips, trying to take in the feeling of complete blizz.

Fuck you had missed this

"Move" you breathed, his hips immediately following your words as he slowly started to thrust inside of you. Taking it slow as promised but it felt just as good as anything else. It wasn't about fucking the life out of you, it would be time for that later. No this was about connecting, making eachother feel pleasure and love and wow did he manage well.

You felt like all you could do was moan and whine, your body writhing on the soft cushions as he gave you all he had, rolling his hips into yours, filling you completely with each deep thrust.

He reached places you didn't even remembered you could or knew. It felt like you were floating on a cloud as his mouth found your skin again.

"Fuck I'm sorry" he breathed harshly on your jaw as he kissed his way up

"What?"

"I-I'm gonna cum" he breathed making you giggle out a moan "Fuck do it"

His fingers found your clit, gently stroking the sensitive nub as he quickened his pace slightly. His hips started to jerk as he got closer to his release, soon coming to an complete stop as he came, taking you with him in the blizz.

It felt like you blacked out. Letting your eyes fall close as he slipped of to the bathroom, helping you clean up and change clothes to sleep. He didn't bother making you brush your teeth or go to the toilet. You were already half-asleep so he just crawled down into the bed again. Kissing your shoulder and whispering soft praise for you as you drifted off to sleep in his comfortbale bed and warm embrace.

Awkvardness settled in your body as you looked down on the steeming hot cup of coffe he'd just handed you.

He looked as free as a bird, not an ounce of regret or questionmarks visable in the way he moved around the kitchen

You didn't regret it but now the hard conversation were bound to happen, the conversation you'd dreaded since you started to feel something about him. But again, he didn't look cornered at all, he looked the oposite to you and that also made you question this, question his feelings.

It wasn't long until he broke the silence, turning to you with an look you couldn't really decide if it was scolding, angry or amused. Maybe something inbetween it all.

"Why are you awkvard?"

He popped the question, just like that, cornered you even more than you already felt as you squirmed on the tall bar stool you sat on at his kitchen island.

"I'm not" you tried but he only chuckled, giving you a soft smile. "This dosen't have to be as hard as you make it out in your head"

"I dosen't?" you half mocked him but he stood his ground, shaking his head "No, it dosen't. I really like you" he stated, like it was the easiest thing ever to say

"And I think you like me too so what's the problem? Our kids already love eachother so why just not take it slowly, ease into it with them, keep it on the low, see eachother more and then move forward step by step. It dosen't have to be that hard. I'm sure of my feeling, it's not something casual or temporary"

You sat quite for a while "Well when you say it like that it sounds like the easiest thing in the world"

Trent chuckled, coming loser to you "It's not the easiset thing in the world but I like you too much to not give this a try"

You smiled leaning over the island to kiss him gently "I like you" you mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a smile against yours.

Sundays couldn't get better than this, the sun was out, mood happy and the birds were singing. Trent's hand in yours made a warmth spread in your chest. The girls ran in front of you, playing tag in a fit of giggles.

The soft morning had woken you up in the right mood, waking up alongside Trent was bound to wake you up in a good mood. Early morning sure but the way Tren't had made love to you first thing after waking up made your mood hit the good roof.

"I love this" you hummed, watching up at his beutiful smile under the baseball cap he'd pushed down over his curls, not wanting to be recognised.

You'd made it official, but not public. He had asked you to be his girlfriend one late night in front of the tv, cozied up together on the sofa. It had been only one clear answer on your tongue and since then things had changed for the better.

The worry of affecting your kids had been one that had proved not to be a problem, the girls already concidering the other best friends. Trying to explain had been a bit harder the girls not completely undestanding why they spent so mch time together at eachothers houses but they loved it neitherless.

"Me too" Trent hummed, glancing up at the girls "And I love you" he continued, turning to you again, tilting your head up to gently kiss you, a kiss you couldn't help but to smile into, holding his chin gently as he kissed you softly, intimately.

"Daddy!" "Mommy!"

You broke apart, giggling as you turned to your kids "Why is your daddy snogging my mommy!" Amelie protested but Ella only giggled making Amelie start to.

"Where have you learnt that word?" you asked her pointedly, her eyes blinking up at you "Trent told me it" she defended before they were off again.

"You taught her the word snogging??" you turned to him with a scoff "What?!" he exclaimed "The girls were using the word fucking so I told them not to say that and to say snog instead, choose your word woman!" he defended making you laugh "Okay okay, snogging is much better than fucking"

"Exactly" he smiled in victory as you continued to walk.

You'd never felt this kind of peace before in your life. It had always been something, something unsettling. But right now, right now it felt like peace, like nothing was hard or confusing. Everything was clear and you were happy, happiest you'd ever been.

And it all felt like it was coming together, peace had finally landed.

#trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #footballer imagine #trent x reader #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #england nt #liverpool #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold angst

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halfwayhearted · 22 days ago

Note

So this is a first request! Could you maybe do a trent alexander arnold flick based on ‘in a good way’ by faye webster and it’s just super fluffy and cozy ☺️ Thanks!

In A Good Way — Trent A. Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: He quite literally loves you tremendously, and just knowing that makes you want to cry (in a good way).

Word Count: 545+

Disclaimer/s — Major OOC Trent probably, but honestly like, can we just vibe… please… just vibe…

A/N: This one’s for all my baby girls. I see your comments ladies, and they make me smile. I’m lurking and I’m stalking when you least expect it. Bea, this is for you!

You were utterly convinced this man was perfect.

It was the anniversary of your one-year together. One whole year you’d been with your boyfriend, and you wanted nothing more than to see those numbers grow. He did everything for you, he’d do anything for you. And you’d for sure do the same.

Closing your umbrella and entering your small apartment, you’re about to call out for him when the sight of flowers is practically shoved into your face, making you laugh. “Hey! Trent! Space.”

“Hi,” he greeted, “I picked these up for you.”

Slipping off your soaked shoes and hanging up your umbrella, you glance up at him with a bright smile. “These are beautiful. You remembered?”

Trent furrows his eyebrows, “Did I remember? Of course I remembered. Do you remember?”

“I do remember. It’s crazy, isn’t it?” You pause. “I’m glad you were persistent. I’d be missing out.”

“Yeah? What would you be missing out on?”

Your first thought was to tease him. “Hm… I’d be missing out on a man who can’t stay quiet.”

His lips part.

“Or... I’d be missing out on a man who’s overly competitive about a game that doesn’t actually matter who wins in the end. Oh! Maybe even—”

“Okay, I get it. Are you done now?”

“I’m just kidding! I love hearing you talk. I love that you like ‘Uno’ so much that you’re even willing to spend a night sleeping on the couch after being nothing but a sore loser. I love you.”

“I don’t think that was as sentimental as you had hoped for,” he said, “But I’ll take it.”

“Really? Wish me better luck next time, I guess.”

With a laugh, he leans in for a kiss, his warm smile spreading to your lips. “Uh-huh, well, I have plans for you. Or, I have plans for us.”

Pulling back, you ask, “Plans? Which consist of?”

He moves to stand behind you and gently grasps your waist. “Close your eyes. Oh, is that for me?”

“Hey, focus. I’m eager, I’m eager. Gifts later.”

The next second, he’s guiding you somewhere you should probably recognize, but you don’t, thanks to the loss of sight. Then, he stops. “Okay... don’t open yet. Hold on.” The feeling of his hands leaving your body makes you frown.

The pitter-patter of his feet is heard before they come to a complete halt. “Open—okay, now.”

When you open your eyes, your expression falls at the sight before you. Sweet, cute decorations now adorn your once pristine kitchen. Candles are flickering, dinner is prepared, and gifts are arranged on the table. You feel like you could cry.

“When did you…” you trail off, “When did you even find the time to do this? This is, wow.”

Trent gives a lopsided smirk, “Do you like it?”

You could cry. You could cry. You could cry. “This genuinely has me on the verge of, like, tears.”

“What, you don’t like it? Is it too much?”

A soft, loving smile graces your lips while you move toward him, your arms wrapping around his body instantly. “It’s perfect. I love it so much.”

“Good, good,” he mutters into your hair, his arms around your neck loosely. “Happy one-year.”

Happy one-year. Insane, really. “Happy one-year.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby ! ౨ৎ

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drakoneve · 1 year ago

Text

Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

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ferida-kahlo · 1 year ago

Text

♡ Hotline ♡

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Mikey have been casually seeing each other for a few weeks. After a late night text from him, you make the drunken insomniac executive decision of calling him back. Naughtiness ensues.

Or: the one where you and Michael have phone sex.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, M/F. Minors DNI // PWP, P!rn With Feelings. Phone sex, flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, dirty talking, mentions of oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation (m. and f.), sexual fantasies, role-playing scenarios, librarian k!nk, mentions of rough sex. // Blink-and-you-miss-it angst, alcohol use, mentions of insomnia, anxiety and self esteem issues.

Word count: 3.8k

Read below the cut OR on AO3

Notes: Reader wears glasses in this - don't look at me like that, it's integral to the plot 🙄

For the history nerds, the quote at the beginning is from the book "Fire from Heaven" by Mary Renault, about the relationship between Alexander the Great and his friend and lover, Hephaestion.

Enjoy! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

His feelings were confused; he wanted to grasp till Alexander's very bones were somehow engulfed within himself, but knew this to be wicked and mad; he would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head…

… you yawned at the page you’d been reading (i.e., staring at without absorbing a single bit of information), before turning your head to the nightstand and seeing the clock mark 2:49 am.

“Good god”, you whispered, tiredly rubbing your face with one hand, while the other reached for the half-full glass of red wine keeping you company in your insomnia.

Technically, you knew drinking was the last thing you should be doing on a weeknight, when you were having a hard time falling asleep and were expected at work in the morning. But living alone was really not helping you behave like a responsible adult with bills to pay. So, you slowly sip your wine, read your book, and hope that eventually your brain will give up and allow you to pass out for at least a few hours.

Suddenly, your phone lights up with a text. Michael B., it says on the screen. A pang of excitement hits you, and you immediately scoff for reacting so earnestly to a text from a guy you’ve been with (not even biblically, just the daytime coffee dates that people with busy lives manage to pack into a crazy week) for a grand total of two times and less than two hours, overall. Not pathetic at all.

Still, you can’t help but reach for the phone.

Hey, I know it’s late and you probably won’t read this until morning, sorry. Wanna have dinner at that spot we talked about? I can pick you up at the office ;) – M.

You smile, and without really thinking, hit the call button.

He picks up quickly, an amused tone in his voice. “Well, I was not expecting that. What the hell are you still doing up, princess? No work tomorrow?”

You laugh. “God, I wish. I just can’t sleep. Haven’t had one of these nights in a while… my brain won’t shut up, even though I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck”.

“Ooof. That fucking sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your booty call in this desperate time.”

“Michael”, you laugh so hard you choke on some wine and must set the glass back on the table. “I really don’t think that’s what this is”.

“Oh, no?”, he feigns innocence.

“No…”, chuckling, you continue with the most sultry, mock-seductive voice you can muster “… a booty call is if I was like: Sooo, Mikey… are you, like, busy right now? Do you wanna… come over? I’m aaall alone…”.

You make sure to put particular emphasis on the word ‘come’ and Mike sounds like he is doubling over with laughter. “That was the worst proposition I have ever heard, no doubt”.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re officially off my booty call list. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

“Ah, shit… I fucked up now, didn’t I?”, you swear you can hear his grin from the other end of the line. And see the laugh lines that form on the corner of his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the rare but so cute nose crinkle that makes your belly flutter…

You would love to get a fucking grip, thank you very much, but the wine was making you incapable of keeping a level head in this flirtation.

“Well… all is not lost. Taking me out to dinner is a good start to redeem yourself. If your game is on point tomorrow, your booty call list status might be revised… in the not-so-far future”, you add, suggestively.

“Shit. Now the stakes are on. I gotta be on my best behavior tomorrow, then”.

“I don’t know about best behavior…”. You feel like slapping yourself for your lack of subtlety.

He chuckles. “So… you like them a little nasty, huh?”

You’re glad he can’t see you blush furiously. “Not like that… but I do like a man who isn’t afraid to… take what he wants. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course… damn, girl. You’re getting me thinking about all sorts of things…”

“Well, you’re the one who started talking about booty calls. It’s technically your fault”.

“That’s fucking rich. I was being a gentleman, sent you a sweet text and all. Not a single sex reference!”, he says, proudly.

“Ok, that is true”, you concede, laughing softly. “Are you still at the restaurant?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah… paperwork coming out of my eyeballs. I don’t even understand how the hell I organized this mess”. You hear rustling through the line, and imagine the mess of letters, invoices and bills that must be covering his office desk.

“That fucking sucks”.

“Word”. His chair squeaks loudly. “So… what are you wearing?”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable”.

“What? I’m just trying to keep the conversation light, you know? Nobody wants to hear about my fuckin’ paperwork at 3 am”.

It was subtle, but you could sense something deeper in his words (sadness? self-deprecation?).

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about your ‘fuckin’ paperwork’ at any time of day, Michael”.

The line goes silent, and you fear you went too deep, too soon. Made this weird in record time, wow.

“I didn’t mean it like… I meant if you want to talk to me about your shitty day, you know, you can, but I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. I get it… thank you for that”, he says, softly. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I honestly just wanna forget about this for a little while... I was really pumped when you called”.

“That’s okay. Really?” You smile, relieved.

“Yeah, really. So… wanna make a guy happy and tell him what you’re wearing?”

With a chuckle, you concede. “Well, nothing. I’m in bed and I sleep naked, so… yeah”.

There’s a heavy pause. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck… baby, you can’t say stuff like that and expect me to be normal about it”.

You grin, having just decided that, actually, you wanna play dirty.

“Who says I want you to be normal about it? Besides”, you throw back, suggestively, “I hardly think a woman can be held accountable for what she says after four glasses of wine on a Thursday night… naked and alone, in such a big bed…”

“Now, see, that was a much better pitch for a booty call than the first o-”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re an asshole”. Even as you say it, you’re smiling.

“And you are a minx, lady. Gettin’ a guy all worked up…”

“Oh, my... I don’t know what you mean…”, you whisper into the comforter, now balled up in your fist over your mouth, as if to cover up your blushing cheeks from an invisible audience.

“Oh, I disagree… I think you know exactly what you’re doing”. There’s a note of sarcasm in his voice you find exhilarating. A sudden noise – like a chair squeaking loudly on a panel floor – can be heard from his end. Followed by… a metallic rattle, more subtle but still clear. A… belt unbuckling?

Wait. Is he…?

You grin, amused. “Mr. Berzatto… I’m hearing suspicious noises. What is going on over there?”

A deep grunt. “Nothin’ much, sweetheart. Just making myself comfortable, is all”.

“And how exactly are you doing that, mister?”

“You know… freeing the junk.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that certainly helps set the mood”.

“Hm… baby, can I ask you for something? It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna do it… but I figure I might as well shoot my shot.”

You notice you are sitting up very still against the pillows in your bed, holding your breath in anticipation. “Sure… what is it?”

A heavy pause follows. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat itself out of your ribcage, your throat feels dry, and your tongue sits heavy and thick in your mouth, the taste of wine suddenly overpowering your senses. And you are so horny.

“Could you… send me a photo of you right now? Are you wearing those new glasses?”. He sounds… eager, almost nervous with the way he trips over the second question.

Oh. Something clicks for you, then. You smile. “So, you really liked the new glasses, huh?”

“Shit… c’mon, don’t bust my balls about it”, he says, with an embarrassed chuckle of admission.

“I’m not! It’s very flattering, actually”. You hope you conveyed how much you are not making fun of him. However, you hate misunderstandings, and to dispel any that might be going on here, you decide there is only one acceptable solution.

“Give me a minute”, you tell him, determined. You don’t wait for an answer before you drop your phone and get to work.

Meanwhile, Mikey sits in his rusty office chair, in what he thinks must look like a very… undignified position. Cock out, right hand stroking it lazily, slumped back with his jeans barely down his ass, work shirt dirty and stinking of cooking oil, his entire body tense in a mix of anticipation and shame. A part of him can’t help but wonder if you are fucking with him: laughing from the other end of the line, leaving him hanging – literally and figuratively (he chuckles dejectedly at the realization that he still remembers something from high school Lit class). He guesses he would kinda deserve that. What type of freak asks for nudes after two… dates? Do those rapid-fire coffee-grabs even count? He is so shit at this. Anything more than a casual hook-up or a quickie behind a sleezy pub is rocket science for him. ‘Congrats, loser! You just fucked it, yet again’.

Then, his phone pings. 5 photos received.

In the first one, you are lying on your side, in bed, a dim warm light illuminating the scene. He can see the contours of your body clearly, despite being covered by a layer of nearly sheer white sheets. His gaze follows your exposed collarbone, to the silhouette of your breasts – he is sure you purposefully allowed a bit of side-boob to slip past the entrapment of sheets… just for him.

He swears he could stare at the shapes of your body all day and never get tired – or limp. His dick is throbbing painfully, now.

It does not get better when he sees the rest of the photos. Your face is visible, on those. The last two are his favorites. You are laying on your stomach, with the reading glasses on, as promised – except they sit lower on your nose than usual, so that your eyes peak out from over the top of the frames. Your hair is down, tousled and wild like it’s just gotten messed up. ‘Is this what she looks like after…’. You are holding a glass of wine to your mouth – lips plump and lightly tinged red – that detail drives him a little insane –, and in front of you lays a book, delicately held open with your other hand. And in the last photo, the sheets have slipped lower down your breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. You’re staring directly at the camera with an inquiring gaze, biting your lower lip. ‘Come get me’.

“… Mike? Are you still there?”

It’s been some time since you sent the photos (twenty seconds, which your anxiety tells you is actually half an hour), with no reaction from him. Your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly feel very silly and insecure. Are they even… good? What makes a good nude? Do these even qualify as nudes? You’re not showing anything super explicit… they’re suggestive, at best. Is he going to think you’re a prude? God, why is this so diff-

Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, I… fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Holy shit. Sweetheart… these are so hot. Jesus… thank you so much. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous…”. The last part comes out as a whisper, like he’s starstruck.

You didn’t know it was possible to get more flustered than you already were. “You’re welcome… I’m flattered I managed to make Michael Berzatto incoherent over some low-res thirst trap selfies.”

“Baby, these are genuinely the hottest pics I’ve ever seen. You look like a hot librarian or something”.

You laugh out loud, triumphantly. “Ah! I knew it!”

“What?”, he laughs along.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mr. Berzatto?”.

“Fuck, don’t stop calling me that, sweetheart”, he says, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah?”, you whisper.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s just… I’ve got a thing for girls with a kinda nerdy, librarian type of vibe, you know? And when I saw you this last time, holding a book and wearing your reading glasses… I gotta admit, my mind went straight to the gutter.”

Interesting. “Really? What did you imagine then?”.

A pause. “I’m not sure you want to hear it… I don’t want you thinking I’m a pervert or something”.

You sigh. “Mikey, I just sent you near-naked photos of me. We’re having phone sex. We are two horny adults having fun. Besides…”, you switch your tone to what you hope comes across as faux innocence, “… I asked you about it. It is kinda my fault, right? I guess I was kind of… bad”.

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”. He chuckles, as if saying challenge accepted. “Alright, then. When I saw you like that for the first time, this image popped into my head, right? I mean, you looked like a really hot librarian. So, I started picturing you in that scenario, with big glasses and all – just like the photos you sent me… except you had your hair in a cute ponytail, and your lips were even redder with lipstick… and you were wearing fishnet stockings up to your thighs – fuck, you got such nice legs, baby –, and you had a pair of those… what are they called. Uh, kitten heels. Yeah. Fuck, your ass would look unbelievable like that. I mean, it is unbelievable, you know what I mean? When you show up at the restaurant wearing those cute little dresses and skirts, I feel my dick twitching in my pants… that’s how hot you are, baby… that’s how crazy you make me feel.”

His words were streaming out like an avalanche – a filthy stream-of-consciousness. Flash images of all the times you were together pop into your mind. He was always nice and polite to you, if cheeky – that was his personality, after all. You’d never felt disrespected or threatened around him. Maybe that’s why, now that you knew he had been actively thinking about you like this… you were very turned on.

“Too much, sweetheart? You wanna keep listening to this filth?”

“… yeah, Mikey. Keep going. What happened then?”

“Then, I took you to a hidden corner in the library, rucked up your pretty little skirt and ripped your real nice dress shirt open… you know, so I could suck on your tits while I fucked you hard against some shelves. Didn’t even need to rip your panties off, ‘cause you weren’t wearing any. Just lifted you up and slammed my cock right into your pussy… God, you were drippin’ wet for me, and you mewled so sweetly… loud, too. Had to shove my fingers into your pretty mouth to keep you quiet. That’s what I imagined, sweetheart. More or less.”

The crass and vivid way in which he described his fantasy made you speechless. It was exhilarating. Knowing that all those times he had talked to you with a straight face, he had been actively fantasizing about fucking you hard. His words.

“Jesus Christ, Mikey”, you breathe out. “That’s… I can’t believe we had entire conversations while you had a cheap porn flick playing in your head”, you laugh softly, unconvincingly.

He sighed deeply. “See, I knew this was a bad idea… honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I guess I’m just a fucking perv-”

“Babe…”, you interrupt him, gentle, but firm, “shut up, please. I’m messing with you. I told you, it’s very flattering that you’re attracted to me. In fact… it’s super hot. Knowing you were having all those dirty thoughts about me while still being a gentleman… is making me feel all kinds of things, right now.”

“Yeah? What kinds of things?”

“Good things, Mikey… I’m so wet right now”, you mewl, the need for release in your core overwhelming the embarrassment you would be feeling otherwise. Without thinking, you kick the sheets away from your body and cup one of your breasts, kneading it and flicking your nipple – a moan leaves your mouth in a desperate plea.

“Fuck”, he whispers, “you got wet over that filth? Jesus Christ, baby. I won the fuckin’ lottery”.

You are burning with desire, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you finally give in, sliding one hand down and shoving two fingers inside with barely any resistance. “Mikey… I wanna come so bad. Can you talk me through it… please?”

“Fuck… yeah, sweetheart, anything you want”. He moans, then, and you don’t think you have ever been so turned on in your life. Mikey Berzatto, a horny, moaning mess, jerking off in his mess of an office at 3 am… because of you.

Chicago’s Helen of Troy. You chuckled softly at the thought and decided to up the ante. “Baby… do you know what I was thinking when you were telling that beautiful story just now?”

He laughs, voice recked. “What, baby?”

You pout, and add another finger in, increasing the pace of the thrusts. “I wish you had pictured kissing me real hard, while I unbuckled your belt… would you let me get down on my knees for you, baby? I really wanna have you in my mouth, Mikey, like, right now”. Your words come out broken, sentences all messed up – you sound pathetic, but you are so past caring.

“Shit-”, a gasp, followed by a deep breath and the noise of something hitting a surface really hard. “… holy shit. Baby, I imagined all that and a whole lot more – seriously, you have no idea. Hell, if the lady wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her, uh? Fuck. Would you let me fuck your mouth, baby…?”

You moan loudly at that and realize you need both hands, putting the phone on speaker – fuck the neighbors – and bringing your other hand to your clit, rubbing lightly, but fast. You were so close. The thought of kneeling on the floor, clothes and hair all messed up from Mikey’s hands, lipstick smudged… looking up at him, and watching his composure unravel because of you…

“Hm… yeah, Mikey, I think I would… ‘cause you’re so nice to me… such a gentleman, even when you’re fucking me hard… would you ask me real nice, baby? Hold my face gently in your big hands, while you fuck it?”

“Fuck, baby… I would treat you so right, you deserve everything-”, he chokes up and, for a few moments, you hear a distant cacophony of noises, like he’s put the phone down. Then, he’s back. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need both hands now”, he chuckles.

You giggle, “Me too… you got me so hot I’m fucking myself on my fingers and rubbing my clit at the same time… and it’s still not enough. I need you…”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You fuckin’ yourself because of me… I know it’s not enough, baby… you need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes! Mikey… please…”, you howl, completely out of your mind.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Hm? Want it nice and slow? Nah… I think you like it fast and rough, don’t you? Long as I keep kissing you real good, touchin’ you real gentle, all over your body… you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”. How he manages to say such filthy things with so much honey dripping from every syllable, is beyond you.

“Yeah, fuck, baby… it doesn’t matter. I’m so wet already, you don’t need to do anything else, just hoist me up in your arms and pin me against the shelves… and shove it in me”.

You are still holding onto a shred of decency because you blush at your own crass admission – still, there is clearly not a whole lot left, as you start rubbing your clit and fucking yourself harder and faster. “I don’t want you to be gentle when you fuck me… I just need to feel your cock stretch me open… wanna feel the sting of it for days, be at work and not be able to focus because all I can think about is how you fucked me so good-”

At this point, you have no idea if he can understand anything you’re saying, because your words are intercut with moans and gasps and mewls and incoherent babble, as you’re about to reach your peak imagining Mikey’s on top of you, railing you into the bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna come… fuckin’ Christ”.

“Mikey- fuck!”.

Your body shakes and your eyes roll back from the strength of your orgasm. Distantly, your brain registers a broken string of moans and curses from the other end of the line.

A few seconds pass, and you feel yourself coming back down to Earth. You lazily stretch out on the bed, completely relaxed and fucked out. “That’s so cute… we came at the same time, babe”, you happily whisper, a ditsy smile on your face.

He huffs, amused “Yeah… what can I say? I’m a romantic at heart”.

You laugh sincerely. “This was… so good, actually. I’m glad I gave into my instinct and called you”.

“Well, I’m even more sticky now”. You both laugh at that. “But I’m also glad you called… like, really glad. Uh, can I ask you something?”

You notice a shift in his voice.

“Yeah… what is it?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us after this… Like, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do all these things to get me off. You know what I mean? It’s just a fantasy… I’ll have you in any way you want me. Okay?”

You feel a tightness in your chest, and you wish, not for the first time tonight, you had him right in front of you so you could kiss him all over and hug him.

“Mikey… I genuinely liked tonight. And the more we talk, the more I like you. You’re not the only one who feels like you won the lottery…”.

“Baby… you’re too sweet. Don’t you think you already got me blushing enough for one night?”

“That’s fucking rich. I must’ve gone through all shades of red tonight, because of your filthy mouth”.

“Please. You loved it”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, you concede, with a smile.

After saying goodbye – and confirming that yes, you would very much like for him to pick you up and take you to dinner later – you fall asleep fast, your mind finally catching up to the pleasant tiredness in your body, a soft smile on your lips.

#smut #michael berzatto x reader #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #mike berzatto x reader #mike berzatto #jon bernthal #the bear #the bear fx #the bear fic

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srngrque · 8 months ago

Text

reporting live

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Trent who was rather interested in the reporter than the actual report he had to give.

Time was ticking on a thin thread for you as your supervisor might call you within five minutes if you do not interview, at least, one player of liverpool. You have been in the reporting field for at least seven months and you now also have juniors yet for you to move like an amateur was hurting your pride.

You are social issues reporter, going around different cities, and write an interesting jaw-dropping report then, call it a day. Sport reporting was not your forte, it is almost like . . fork found in your backpack. Simply out of place. The million dollar question ringing in your head was why were you here in Anfield Stadium at the first place but you face-palmed yourself on accepting to cover for your senior who was in her maternity leave. You had always hated whenever you had to cover for a reporter doing sports. No particular reasoning, just childhood trauma.

You saw all the liverpool footballer players walking out from the dressing room after a hot win. You crossed path with the tall, charismatic dutch leader of liverpool to the small growing liverpool superstar Endo but you had your goal set on the biggest prize, the player with a fresh trim, and his headphone on as every reporter tried catching his attention.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the star of Anfield and liverpool. Your supervisor might as well, move you to the Sports section if you got to interview Trent; you were not looking forward to that but a lady has bills to pay. You sighed as you had to save your job before it slipped away from your grip.

Just one interview, anyway. What is the harm? You held the sleeve of his tracker suit lightly, you needed this, you needed a bang.

"Great win in Anfield, innit? Please let us know about how are you feeling about the win?" You asked reaching your microphone out to the man. His gaze froze, so did his feet in front of you. It could be the audacity to block his way toward the team bus or the glitch of mischievousness in his eyes that flickered on your red hue cheeks.

Trent chuckled as he moved slightly forward removing his headphone, your eyes set on the man completely compelled from the bridge of his nose, deep doe eyes to his captivating smile. Everything about the man was setting you up for a failure, realizing how much of a bad idea this was.

"Yeah, yeah it is great team win but to become the last scorer for the win is a different achievement, so I am proud and happy." Trent answered, his eyes never leaving yours for a minute. His heavy scouser accent oozed out every word as Trent kept his smile intact.

His eyes glanced at you, noting the rose hue on your cheeks, one hand slightly shaking to hold onto the microphone and the other holding onto the notebook. "Come here, love. Let me hold that for you." He mumbled gripping on the microphone as your fingers brushed on his and you were secretly praying to every god that was staring upon you to not show your slight jump after the touch.

"Okay so-" You paused, clearly out of the atmosphere as you were in no place to check out players nor drool out your delusional ideas when you have a very angry supervisor waiting on the clock and an impatient cameraman behind you. "Yeah, I cannot lie, you . . you were great in the field." You complimented him quickly but you were not lying about it. With the long passes, and all the chances Trent created for the team; anyone can tell he was born to become a football player who succeeds with legacy.

"You were watching?" Trent asked raising his eyebrows in question. Utterly confused, you paused to flip your notebook to look at the man in front of you. With the silent eye contact, your neck burnt hot. You nodded sternly, a thin smile on your face. "Of course, I was watching, I mean, I am a reporter, can't be missing out on the main point of the whole show."

Trent kissed his teeth, he smirked, "So, tell me more. How was I on the field? Did you like what you see?" He winked at your direction. Your mind went blank, in what position does he have to be to flirt openly with a camera panning on his face? The burning hot sensation on your back came straight up and your heart beating fast was not helping to form words, "Like . . like I said, you were great. You are the star of liverpool after all." You sweetly smiled.

Trent had the cheeky smile on his face, his eyes lingering on your lips before glancing upward to your eyes. He knew what he was doing to you moving closer to the barrier between the reporters and the players.

You cleared your throat. "You are also the player of the match." You trailed off; Trent leaned closer. Call it the stadium being loud for him to not hear you clearly or he simply wanted to be close to you, to mesmerize the small moles on your face, to engulf himself on your warm scent.

"Are you excited for your next big game against Manchester City?" You inquired. All the back and forth staring and silence with Trent will not colour your supervisor impressed at all. You need to interview someone else that will not . . leave you speechless in minutes.

"Well it depends, to be very honest with you. Will you be in the next game?" Trent further pestered.

You furrowed your eyebrows in slight annoyance at the player for making everything about you while the whole fanbase would want to know more about him.

The cameraman behind you almost dropped his equipment taken back by the question. You did not know . . how to respond to the player who was attacking you with his doe eyes. Nervously, you laughed, "I cannot be certain about that. Are you and your team ready? It is one of the anticipated game of the season." You diverted his topic back to what you needed at the first place.

Trent stared at you without responding to your question, you quickly started shaking your leg anxiously as your eyes lingered at almost all the players leaving to go back to the training ground from the stadium. Your chances were blowing every second Trent silent in front of you.

During this period, you started considering finding other jobs, as you started making mental notes. With thoughts looming around your head, you did not come to realize Trent walked a few steps toward you, nibbling on his bottom teeth. He removed the microphone away from his lips, coming forward for a conversation that is sealed between you and the liverpool player.

You flinched at his hot breathe hitting your skin, as he gently held onto your forearm to keep you in position knowing you will move away from his contact.

You coughed away from his grip. "Have a great day then. We cannot wait till what magic liverpool can bring to Anfield once again."

"And you too, have a great day but i did not quite catch your name." He inquired with his wicked smirk playing on his face. He wants me gone, jobless. Clearly, with zero intention to support my penniless lifestyle.

You smiled, "If you do goal against Manchester City, I will let you know."

"Should we seal the deal with a kiss then, perhaps?"

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold scenarios #trent alexander arnold fic #trent alexander arnold x you #jaehymrkwrites #trent alexander arnold fluff

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leviscolwill · 10 months ago

Note

7. "if you win, i'll kiss you" with trent!!!!! 😩😩 bc we know he’s a competitive son of a bitch <333

congrats again on 600 baby! 🫶

- @lomltrentarnold 🪽

so come here and give me some kisses ★

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

note: thank u soooooo much for your request my lovely hana,, i hope u like it, i love writing competitive trent 🤭

this blurb was inspired by this video <3

now playing six thirty by ariana grande...

your relationship with trent was ambiguous to say the least. you liked him, well it was hard not to. and you knew he liked you too. hell, everyone at st george's park knew you liked each other. but he had yet to make any concrete move towards you.

trent was standing in front of you, getting mic-ed up for another pr video. they were never his favorites, but if he had a chance to beat his teammates, he'd always take it.

while you were polishing up the last details before filming with your colleagues, you shot a quick glance at trent looking oh so adorable in his apron. he walked towards you and rested his chin on your shoulder, giving you a quick smile.

“you know you're never winning this one right?” you told him in a cheeky tone with the sole purpose of riling him up. you knew just how competitive he could get, even with something as trivial as a bake off opposing him to hendo, dec and kieran.

“are you doubting my baking skills right now, love?” his accent thick and sassiness dripping from his voice.

“oh no, i wouldn't dare. ‘m just saying dec has a much better shot at winning than you.” you wouldn't trust declan with your kitchen even if your life depended on it, too scared you'd lose your whole flat in a house fire. but the sight of trent, chuckling to himself at your words was enough to spur you on.

he was a confident man, confident enough to know you didn't mean a word you said. also confident enough in his baking skills to know that he’ll win no matter what. but your teasing made the gears in his brain spin faster. “what do i get if i prove you wrong and win then?”

you took a quick look around to: 1. escape trent's face that seemed to get closer to yours by the second, 2. check if any of your colleagues caught up on the somewhat intimate moment you were sharing, only to find out they all left to do whatever they needed to do.

you thought a few seconds of what to tell him before an idea popped in your head. it might seem too bold, but truthfully you were sick of waiting for trent to make a move on you. “mmmhh...” you pretended to think for a couple seconds, “if you win this, i'll kiss you.”

trent looked stunt at your proposal, his brown eyes looking even wider than usual. “yeah! i mean, are you sure?” as much as he tried to keep up a façade, you could see right through his false confidence. the skin of his ears turning into a reddish tone and his eyes looking anywhere but in yours.

you quickly nod, before pecking his cheek. trent didn't get the time to fully register your action, you were already gone god knows where.

the next time your eyes meet, you were standing behind the camera with the rest of the communication team. trent was torn between exchanging knowing glances and smiles with you or focusing on baking his gingerbread man. he chooses the latter, well aware of the reward awaiting him when he'll win.

after some more baking, the results were in. and you could feel trent's stare on you while he was waiting expectantly for his name to be called as the winner.

and once it inevitably happened, trent locked eyes with you in a stare that could only mean one thing: ‘i told you, you know what happens now’.

your name was called and you had to leave before trent was done wrapping up the video. this gave you time to mentally prepare yourself, you didn't regret your impulsive bet but you were overthinking everything that might go wrong.

in the midst of your turmoil, two hands gripped your shoulders making you turn in surprise. you weren't too surprised to see trent behind you, you gave him a warm smile before making sure none of your colleagues were in sight.

“i told you i'd win.” his face was still glowing from his earlier triumph.

you reciprocated the smile on his face, meeting his deep brown eyes. “i know... i knew you'd win this.” you let your hand wander over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body slowly taking over yours.

“i thought we had a deal...” trent's voice brought you out of your daydream. your movement suddenly stopped to look up at him.

you didn't give him a verbal answer, choosing to stand on your tippy toes before pressing your lips against his. you felt his lips turn into a smile against yours, before kissing you back with more passion than words could ever hold. his hands cupping your face to bring you even closer if that was possible, not ready to let go of you just yet.

once he did pull away, he looked at you with admiration sparkling in his eyes. his thumb stroked your cheek softly, while you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. what did this kiss mean for the two of you? were things going to be weird now? could you even kiss a player without consequ-

“so, i think the next step should be me asking you out?”

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foreverisntenough · 4 months ago

Text

‘OURS’

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

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

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

Chapter 24- An Alexander-Arnold Angel | ‘Ours’

word count - 11 k

“Can you tell me what that is, baby?” You cooed, bouncing Teddy on your knee pointing outside through the big window. You were sat in a lounge at the airport waiting to board your flight to the United States for your wedding. Trent had gotten a private jet to take you to New York. He figured if you had ever taken an important trip it would be this one so flying private seemed like the thing to do.

“Aib pla!” Teddy yelled the jumbled words. You giggled and shushed her loud outburst. You pulled her by her pudgy tummy back into you more. You leaned around her and kissed her chubby cheek.

“Yeah, Ted. That’s an airplane. You’re so smart. Do you like going on planes, baby bear?” Trent asked Teddy, sharing the same laugh you did hearing her excitedly squeal in a fairly quiet room. She shrugged, not sure if she did or maybe she didn’t understand his question. To her credit the last time she flew, she probably didn’t even remember the experience all that well. You wondered how good her memory was and if she would remember going to New York at all.

“I think you do. You’re such a good flyer, baby. Do you know where we’re going?” You picked up her hands and tried to wipe them clean from the yogurt she had been eating. It seemed to have gotten just about everywhere but in her mouth.

“Pop pops.” She murmured out to you now deciding that after her snack and all the questions she was tired and needed a cuddle. She was referring to your dad. That’s what you had landed on calling him. You wiped her hands and pulled her into your arms situating her on your chest.

“Yeah, we’re going to see pop pop, mum mum, Laur, and Win Win too. Aren’t you so excited?” You asked her. Trent was listening to your conversation and ran his hand over her hair before kissing her head.

“Ted, do you know what else we’re going to do?” Trent asked Teddy cupping her cheek and turning her head a little for her to look at him.

“Nos dada.” She sleepily cooed trying to wrangle away and get her face back to its place tucked into the nape of your neck.

“Me and mummy are going to get married. Give mummy a big kiss like this…Mwah!” Trent messed about pulling your face into his, kissing your lips dramatically with the ‘mwah’ sound Teddy still loved. She giggled with a ‘dada’ grabbing for him and pushing her lips out for a kiss of her own from him. “Going to have a big party as well. You can wear your pretty dress like mummy too. Will you dance with daddy?” He asked her with a smiley pout seeing how tired she was. He was hoping that he could make her happy by asking her a silly question and bringing up the dress she had been really excited to wear.

“Is dada even going to dance?” Your brow furrowed with a smirk mocking Trent’s usual indifference for dancing. He rolled his eyes at your smart remark. You giggled a little. Trent didn’t like to dance. He’d do it for you though. He’d hold you tight to him and whisper in your ear. Frankly, you liked the way he did dance. It was always a heated moment and typically turned fairly intimate following. Opposing that, you thought him dancing with Teddy would be the cutest thing in the world so you didn’t mean to tease too much.

“Yeah, well I want to dance with my Ted. Maybe I don’t want to dance with you.” He quipped with a bit of bite and a devilish smirk. Teddy giggled, bringing herself more upright to grab his face with her tiny hands again.

“Aww that makes me sad. Please daddy.” You whined while you dramatically pouted at him. You had a short first dance planned but it was more of an intimate thing for the wedding day. The idea of your two favorite people sharing a dance as well was precious. He rolled his eyes and kissed you before returning his attention to your daughter.

You still had a bit of time before you boarded so you plopped Teddy on the ground with a piece of paper and some crayons to color. You leaned back and got comfortable. Trent moved over to the seat directly next to you on a couch. The cushion sank as he shifted closer. He moved his hand and placed his fingers under your chin to turn you to face him. He kissed your lips but was quick to pull away to lean down to Teddy to ask her what she was coloring. You frowned at him though wishing he gave you a longer kiss. He flicked his eyes back up to you and flashed you a smug grin with a wink.

“Baby bear, what are you drawing?” He asked Teddy, as she furiously scribbled with a blue crayon. Just a bunch of swirls and circley shapes.

“Doggies!” She told him very seriously focused on her paper. She stuck her tongue out into the corner of her mouth like Trent did when he concentrated. Trent hummed inspecting her work with a little laugh. A little while and a couple scribbles of dogs later, you needed to board.

“Good girl! Look how nicely you did! Can you pack up your crayons for me, Teddy girl?” You cooed getting your own things packed up. She very carefully put each crayon back in its original place. Trent stood above her patiently letting her do it as she liked. A very clear sign that she was maybe inheriting some of your predisposed organization. Trent gave you a smug grin and cheeky laugh seeing your daughter’s resemblance to you shine through.

“Can I give you a kiss, beautiful?” Trent asked, holding your hand on the tarmac before you boarded the plane. You giggled and squeezed his hand.

“You don’t have to ask.” You turned towards him, moving your lips towards his. He laughed and his smile almost made you stutter. It made even the gray cold summer weather in the summer in England feel like it was bright sun.

“I gotta ask, don’t I? Consent is what good guys do, no? I want you to marry me in a couple days. I’m trying to not mess up.” He cooed with a smirk. You shook your head.

“Can you just kiss me? Now I’ve been waiting too long.” You complained. He gave you a devastating grin. He pressed his lips to yours and you shut your eyes in bliss. You boarded the flight and settled in a seat with Teddy while Trent brought your carry ons aboard. You scrolled through your phone calendar before the plane took off. You flicked through your packed schedule for the next few days and then just jumped ahead for a little to check the exact date of when you needed to schedule your next nail appointment for ahead of your flight for your honeymoon and then the exact date that Trent was scheduled to leave for preseason. It was a little crazy that he’d be leaving for preseason as your husband, he’d be leaving you as his wife, it was just a little unfortunate that date was as soon as it was.

“You know I heard there is going to be a very good looking boy at Liverpool’s preseason this year.” You cooed cheekily, picking up your gaze from your phone and to Trent finally taking his seat.

“Oh yeah?” Trent sent a smirk your way and your heart faltered but you were trying to flirt a little.

“I think his name is Trent Alexander-Arnold.” You giggled with a little smile as your lips turned at the corners looking back at him. “Heard he’s sexy, cute too.”

“That’s me, baby.” He laughed with a wink. “Sorry to disappoint though but I’m engaged, getting married in a few days as well.” You pouted at him and whispered a curse. “I’m all hers, most beautiful fiance.” He reflected your pout back to you. You giggled at how childish this whole conversation was. “Now can my beautiful fiance let me give her a kiss now?” He laughed with you. He took your cheek in his palm. You nodded to him, fixing your gaze on his eyes. He kissed you and it was perfection. You felt the world slow. Everytime his lips were on yours as dramatic as it sounds the world just melted away. He felt like heaven each and every time.

“Do you know where we are? We’re where mummy used to live.” You cooed to a sleepy Teddy in the car from the airport to your apartment in Manhattan. She was fairly confused by your question. “When I was a little girl like you, Teddy bear. I didn’t even know daddy yet.” You giggled smushing a kiss to her cheek.

“No dada?” She asked you with her big eyes narrowing at you. You told her no. You were referring to your childhood but she didn’t seem too interested if her dad wasn’t involved. “Why mama? Lub dada.” She gave you a disgruntled disapproving face. She didn’t like the idea of you without Trent.

“I know. I love daddy as well. I just hadn’t met him yet. Not until I was a big girl.” You cooed looking at her progressively more unhappy face in her car seat.

“Dada best. Why mama?” She looked so angry at you. You couldn’t believe how similar her angry scowl looked like Trent’s. You were trying to bite back the smile.

“I think he’s the best too. That’s why we had you, cute girl. Why are you mad at me right now?” You laughed, a little taken aback that she was so annoyed.

“Ted, why are you mad at mummy?” Trent asked, trying not to laugh as well. He was smiling though. He brushed his thumb over her pout in an effort to wipe it off. It didn’t work. She stayed steadfast.

“My dada best!” She yelped moving towards Trent in her seat away from your direction. Your eyes widened that she was taking this so personally.

“Teddy, I couldn’t have known dada. We lived in different countries. What do you want me to do? I’ve known him longer than you have!” You teased squeezing her arm. She scowled at you, incredibly offended by your remark.

“No! Know dada long.” She rebutted very quickly with some real vigor.

“Yeah but not as long as mummy has.” You cooed initially with some humor in your tone. Tears began to well though in her puppy dog eyes. “Okay, okay. Come here. You’re right, baby. You’ve known daddy the longest, yeah? You and I love him the most. Daddy’s the best.” You pouted at Teddy helping her out of her car seat into your lap.

“Daddy is the best and mummy should’ve met him earlier.” Trent quipped. Teddy let out a snarky ‘yeah.’ Trent laughed giving her a gentle kiss on her identical pout. He wiped a few of her tears that had fallen.

“Okay… that’s not helpful. Thank you, T.” You gave him a glare. Him fueling her anger at you for the impossible, not meeting her soon wasn’t helping. When you finally arrived at your New York apartment, Teddy was fast asleep, her annoyance at you evaporated. Trent and you tried your best to be quiet and get her inside without waking her.

You had a few days before the first event to make sure everything was good to go and get a few beauty appointments sorted. One thing you really needed to get sorted was your raging desire to have sex again. You and Trent had foolishly decided you wouldn’t fuck until your wedding day once you arrived in New York. Something you were seriously regretting the past few days. You didn’t really pay much attention to just how often you had been having sex with him but not doing it… it had become very apparent just how frequently you did. It was the night before the welcome day, the day before your wedding, and you had reached a breaking point of horniness with Trent in bed.

“I don’t want to sleep apart tomorrow.” You whined cuddling up to him under the covers.

“How come baby?” Trent asked you quietly, pulling you into him more with a kiss to your temple.

“Because I want your hands on me.” You muffled out digging your face into his neck. You pouted your lip pushing it against his warm skin. “T, pleassseee, just touch me.” You complained as you moved his hands for him from your sides to cheekily beneath your tiny pajama shorts.

“I’m not going to loose this.” He whispered teasingly, ghosting your lips with his. He moved closer to you his cold minty breath hitting you with a dervish handsome smile smirking back at you.

“I miss you baby.” You whined again hoping you could convince him if you made him feel bad enough for keeping himself from you for the past few days.

“I’ve missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you a lot but I don’t loose I’m sorry, pretty girl.” Trent cooed. This wasn’t even a game you decided this together but you knew Trent well enough that he wasn’t going to break the pact you made and he wasn’t going to let you otherwise you would have ‘failed’ or ‘lost’ and that’s just something he didn’t want to do.

“I don’t care, I’ll loose T…” you moaned but Trent just shook his head at you. He wasn’t going to loose by you giving up. “What have you been thinking about?” You asked in an attempt to shift his mindset to all the things you’ve currently been thinking about and certainly missing.

“Mmmm.” He hummed reminiscing. “Baby, just been thinking about tasting you, kissing your neck, eating you out, sliding inside you, and I know you’ll say otherwise but playing with your ass.” He cheekily whispered in your ear. A shiver ran up your spine.

“Please.” You whined in response shutting your eyes desperately wanting him to do anything with you right now. Yes, even that. Anything. “Come here, gimme a cuddle, baby. Alexander-Arnold’s don’t lose.” He cooed,kissing on your neck.

“T.” You pouted “I hate this.” You continued to complain. Being an Alexander-Arnold didn’t sound like much fun at this very minute. You just wanted him to concede and fuck you.

“I know you do, pretty girl. You just want me to play with that pretty pussy.” He kept his voice hush, dragging his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, gliding over your smooth skin. Close but still incredibly far from where you wanted them.

“T, stopppp! Just get away from me then.” You huffed genuinely upset at your frantic state. You gave him a pouty face and tried to move away from him in the bed.

“Nah, c’mere. Just stay with me, you’ll be okay, baby.” He cooed gently pulling you into him somehow in a non sexual way but in a very loving comforting manner. He kissed the top of your head. “Soon. Promise. Trust me, you won’t have to even ask.” He whispered. You nuzzled into him, pressing your pouty lips to his neck.

You had gotten ready in your apartment and gone for a lunch earlier in the day with all your family and friends to welcome them to Manhattan. It was the day before your wedding which seemed surreal that was the case. Your mum took Teddy for you and Trent after lunch. The two of you giggled drunk off champagne stumbling back into the hotel room you two had shared the first time you ever met. In a way you felt like it was your room. You knew it so well. You clung to Trent as he fumbled the key to open the door. You had bags dropped off for you both at the hotel earlier. What was driving you crazy was the you two wouldn’t spend the night together ahead of the wedding. Needless to say you were glued to each other. It was rare spending nights apart when you didn’t have to. Trent traveled so much that spending additional nights apart was awful and avoided at all costs.

“T… are you still hungry?” You giggled probably more buzzed than you realized from lunch. Calling it a lunch was a little bit of a stretch though, you hadn’t gotten to eat all the much though because you were talking so much.

“Hungry, thirsty, and very in love with you, baby.” He cooed. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your chest across you. You craned your neck to the side and kissed his covered shoulder.

“Room service it is then because I need to get ready soon but I’m not leaving your side.” You kissed him again and reached your arms behind your holding his body to his.

“Usual?” He asked and you smiled, liking the fact that you had a usual and the fact that he knew it. You hummed. He ordered you two cheeseburgers, fries, and champagne. It was a dream. You sat on top of the bed you’d sadly sleep in alone tonight with your head resting on his shoulder eating and drinking, kissing and talking. Eventually you got off the bed to get dressed. Your mum had organized a dinner tonight at The Plaza. You gave tonight to your her to host. It was probably more formal than your actual wedding the following day but you’d give it to her, more her vibe then yours. It was her dream for you, to throw this sort of ornate event. That said, fancy or casual, you were about to turn put a look your mum would kill you for. You and Winnie had found a dress Moda Operandi had carried by Nensi Dojaka that was entirely see through and it was gorgeous. It was ‘white sequined’ as you described it to your mum which wasn’t a lie, you just had chosen to send her the off model photo of the dress keeping the transparency element a secret until she saw you tonight. You slipped into a sheer sequined gown in the ensuite. You pulled it on and even though you could do it yourself you slinked back into the room while Trent buttoned his shirt.

“Do you mind zipping this for me?” You cheekily asked him excited to see his reaction to your very cheeky dress.

“Oh my fucking … oh my god. Are you serious right now? Baby… holy fuck. Come here.” His jaw stayed stack as he took your hand and held it above your head for you to spin around for him. When your back was to him mid twirl he groaned seeing your ass through the material in just a Miu Miu pair of underwear maybe shorts you weren’t sure what you’d call them but they were intended to be seen.

“Do you like?” You giggled turning back around to him draping your arms over his shoulders. His eyes scanned you and Trent shook his head in disbelief. You let go and thanked him for zipping your dress and skipped back to the bathroom to put the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Erm… where do you think you’re going wearing that? Jesus, baby, you’re not leaving my side tonight.” He cooed following you into the room. His hands were quick to find their way to your covered ass. “I hate being the one that just zipped this thing up. I really should be taking this off you. Honestly, that’s all I’m going to be thinking about tonight. You rolled your eyes with a blushing smile looking back at him through the mirror. “I know you’ve probably had your outfit picked out for ages so don’t feel inclined to switch anything up for me but I did get you a little something…” He spoke quietly in your ear resting his chin on your shoulder.

“A little something like what, T?” You giggled fairly sure it would be something from Bergdorf Goodman. He snuck away from you and grabbed the all too familiar purple bag. You smiled a little bigger coming to see him with it.

“I know you wanted this for a little and couldn’t find it but I’ll find anything for you, baby. I’ll do anything to make you happy, I’ll get you anything you want.” He cooed, handing you the bag. You took it from his hesitantly, not totally sure what it would be. You unboxed a Louis Vuitton bag you’d been hunting for for ages. It was a trunk style clutch in all white.

“T… thank you, baby. I’ll wear it tonight no question. I love it and I love you more.” You cooed placing the bag on the bed carefully before giving him a sweet kiss. As you gathered your stuff to head down to the party you looked at Trent inspecting himself in the mirror. “T… why did you talk to me on the corner, you know when we met?” You cooed curious for an answer, sort of shocked you’d never asked him outright before.

“What?” He looked at you through the full length mirror but turned around to look at you properly. “I mean, baby, looks aside.” He gestured to your figure currently as you clasped your heels on. “I liked how nervous you were about your confidence.” He smiled at you.

“You liked that I was insecure?” You asked him in response with a furrowed brow. It seemed like an odd answer. It definitely wasn’t the one you probably were expecting.

“No, no.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I hated it, actually because it made no sense. I needed you to know how beautiful you were, you are, how smart you are. It was like you betrayed yourself by talking to me. You should be that confident but every time you said something you looked like you were shocked it came out of your mouth.” He kept his sweet smile as he walked towards you. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your jawline. “I wanted to just make sure you knew how beautiful you are, inside, outside, and even if you didn’t want to date me, see me again, which I wasn’t keen on, you deserved to know that. You had me hooked from the jump, baby.” He cooed.

“I know you think I am.” You replied with a pouty smile thinking his reasoning was really tender.

“We’re getting there right? How beautiful, you think you are?” He cooed gently knowing this conversation was entering dicey territory. Your opinion of yourself, your own beauty was something you were working on. You nodded shyly. ”Good baby.” he winked at you and kissed your lips. You felt butterflies fill your stomach. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that this man who took such good care of you, who really truly and deeply cared about your well being above everything else was going to be yours for the rest of your life.

You went to the party and were met with an eye roll from your mum, a squeal of excitement from Lauren, kisses from Teddy, and a few jokes from Marcel. It was a very fun night. It was the perfect way to kick things off. Your anxiety though was growing as the hours of the night ticked by and faded into the morning ones of your big day. You had a tearful goodnight and goodbye to Trent holding your baby girl. You were trying not to cry but both of you crying in front of Trent probably wouldn’t have been a nice thing for him to deal with, not tonight. You managed and made your way back to the hotel room upstairs you two had shared for years. Instead of her crib you had Teddy cozied up to you cuddling in the big bed just wanted the comfort of her.

“Mama, need dada.” Teddy cooed sleepily nuzzling her face into your cleavage not being able to fall asleep without him. You had said goodnight but not in the usual fashion. Typically Trent would call if he was away. That always made her more calm and settled.

“Why baby? Mummy’s got you.” You told her quietly trying to reassure her everything was okay.

“Lub mama.” Teddy humphed out but continued squirming against you unhappily.

“Yeah, I know.” You cooed gently. “Why do you need daddy right now though?” You asked her brushing your hand over her head dragging her curls back.

“Dada tect mama and teddy.” She whimpered out. You pouted at her. It was so cute.

“Yeah, he does, he takes good care of us, right?” You looked at her adorably similar face to his, his eyes essentially reflecting back at you. It was a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“Yeah huh, mama need.” She babbled back, cuddling into you more wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Okay, baby.” You hummed kissing the top of her head. You didn’t want to call and break the rules you had agreed upon. You had said goodnight and that was supposed to be it before you saw each other for the actual ceremony but you weren’t going to deprive Teddy of him. “We’ll text daddy. Okay? Send him a picture of us. Can you say cheese for me?” You smiled at her reaching for your phone. You took a selfie of you two tucked in bed and sent it to Trent with a message.

‘Little teddy bear misses her daddy. Says he protects her and mama. Can we have our bedtime kiss please.’

Trent was quick to respond, thankfully as you were both definitely getting tired and you, very very nervous. He sent it along with a voice note with a ‘mwah!’ And a photo of him and Teddy’s stuffed bear in bed.

‘Love my baby bear and mummy so much. My beautiful girls. Sending you the biggest hugs and kisses. Get a good sleep for me.’

“Dada where?” Teddy cooed as you left the party tonight. She was very confused why you had to say bye and split up. “I’m gonna go have a sleepover with Celly and Ty. You, mama, and Win are gonna have one, okay?” He told her with a soft smile not trying to get into the logistics of pre wedding ceremony archaic traditions you weren’t sure you even knew why you were doing. “Why?” Teddy looked back at Trent devastated. Her big eyes filling quickly with tears. You told it was okay coddling her. “Take dada. No ‘lone.” She cooed with a terribly cute pout trying to hand Trent her stuffed bear. “Aw thank you, baby. Okay, so I’llI get your beary and you get mama, that’s a fair trade off.” Trent cooed taking the floppy stuffed bear. He kissed Teddy’s forehead with a ‘thank you.’

“Look who’s already asleep with dada, Ted.” You cooed while showing her the phone after you read her the message.. Trent had tucked her little bear in the bed with him and folded the comforter over resting its head on the pillow beside him.

“Mama sleep?” Teddy asked quietly and tiredly seeing your eyes still open staring out the window looking out into the warm glow of the Manhattan night.

“Sorry, baby. I’m okay. Just thinking.” You smiled at her and gave her a kiss. Her brow furrowed, confused. Not sure what you meant so you figured if you were both awake you might as well explain. Truthfully, emotions were trashing around in your body. “You know how when you're sad, dada makes it all better. Makes you happy?” You asked her setting up her reasoning and understanding. She nodded “Well dada does that for me too. Dada makes mummy not sad anymore.” Saying it out loud made you so sentimental. You started crying trying to fight back the lump forming in your throat. Trent would wipe Teddy’s tears if she was scared of a thunderstorm or if she scraped her knee but what he’d done for you was on another scale. He really pulled you out of a really bad place. It definitely was still lingering but the light he had brought into your life was like nothing you could’ve imagined.

“Mama, no sad. Need dada?” Teddy asked you worried you were crying. She tried to wipe tears and it made your heart break. So much had happened it was so amazing you’d finally all be connected under one surname. You’d be husband and wife with your little girl. It seemed mundane but it made such a difference to you. It was such a massive deal to you.

“I’ve got you, Teddy bear. You make mama so happy, yeah?” You cooed with a sad smile kissing her sleepy pout. You pulled her tight to you and breathed her in. Your heart stilled in appreciation for what you and Trent had created. Trent and Teddy were your entire life. They meant everything to you. They really did make you happy and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Come with me Mrs. Alexander Arnold!! We’ve got shit to do!” Winnie quietly squealed waking you up. Your mum in the other room shook her head at Winnie’s mouth.

“Can you cuddle with Win Win?” You cooed stroking your hand over a very sleepy Teddy’s head. She cuddled closer to you but you had to peel her off. You had to wake up extra early to begin the lengthy process of getting ready for arguably the biggest day of your life. You had a lymphatic drainage appointment first, followed by your nails, then your hair, and makeup,

“C’mere, Teddy girl, you and I are gonna go snooze a little longer, yeah?” Winnie’s cooed plopping herself on the bed and pulling Teddy over to her.

“Are you gonna look pretty like mama today?” One hairstylist asked Teddy as she did her hair. She giggled a yeah as she watched her carefully part her curls. Yourself, Winnie, Lauren, Teddy and your mum all were getting ready at The Plaza and taking a helicopter out to the location of your ceremony out east.

“I have a delivery!” Lauren cooed running into the room with a gift bag and a big thing of flowers.

“I wonder who it’s from!” Winnie teased sarcastically as if it could be from anyone else but Trent. You giggled, pausing getting your hair for a moment to see what he had sent along. You scooped Teddy off the ground and sat her on your lap.

“Is it from dada? Let's see what he sent to me and you, Teddy girl.” You cooed with a big smile pressing your cheek to hers. You unwrapped two jewelry boxes with dainty gold bracelets, one for each of you, Teddy’s much smaller for her wrist, with two small diamond A letters on it. You pouted as your hairstylist helped you clasp the fine bracelet. “And what will we say to daddy?” You asked Teddy inspecting her tiny wrist new adorn with a matching bracelet. Your eyes started to fill with tears. The morning was starting to get to you.

“Tanks dada, lub most.” Teddy looked at you with her big brown eyes and a pout seeing you look so emotional. She tilted her head confused. Your mum came over and wiped under your eye with her thumb.

“No tears after makeup is finished.” Your mum spoke softly. You knew it was coming from a good place but of course it had to be about keeping your appearance up. “Isn’t that right, beautiful girl?” She cooed once more, shifting her focus to Teddy.

You stood on a slight pedestal in the middle of a grand room high up in the plaza as two stylist helped zip your wedding dress up.

“Y/N… it's perfect.” Winnie crocked out starting to cry. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to reel back in her tears. Teddy sat on her lap in a little dress. You weren’t doing the traditional bridesmaids thing but both her and Lauren were in light pink looks. Winnie in an Alaia gown, Lauren in lace Alessandra Rich dress. You wanted it to be relaxed for everyone. High end and chic but casual materials for comfort. Not to mention it would create a moment for your dress to stand out that much more. Your dress was everything you wanted and more. You had originally found a dress in London but things changed quickly when you got word of the Oscar de La Renta column gown of your dreams was available. It was strapless not overtly white but had pearl embellishments in a scalloped pattern overlaying a sheer-ish silk fabric. It was classic but cheeky and you felt like it embodied you. When you felt the stylist zip it up you felt an odd sense of relief wash over you and your anxiety leave you, feeling more confident in your appearance than ever in this dress.

“What do you think?” You spun around with a childish grin with your arms raised for all the girls in the room to see it, you all done up for your wedding day. You had kind of run with the whole beach wedding theme choosing the scalloped pattern and pearl gown so you opted for a pair of drop pearl earrings with a hint of gold and Jimmy Choo satin sandal heels.

“Mama pwincess!” Teddy squeal shuffling off Winnie’s lap and running to you. You leaned down to her and kissed her forehead.

“Yeah? You think? What do you think dada will say?” You giggled really appreciating her compliment. That’s all you really wanted was for your daughter to think of you that way.

“Dada say booful, mama!” She cooed happily swaying back and forth in front of you, anchoring herself to you by grabbing the dress. You thought your stylists were about to have an aneurysm watching her pull on the beading but you didn’t care. You had a photographer with you all day capturing your morning which was surreal so after an hour or so of pictures you made your way to the west side to get the helicopter out to Montauk. Nerves beginning to rise once again. Lauren of course organizing champagne to be on board. Another thing organized was a little girl she had sent to Trent from you for that morning. She had somehow convinced you to do a photoshoot in the lingerie you had purchased to wear on your wedding night with him. She had gotten a bunch of them printed out and placed in glassine envelopes to sneak into his day. One in the interior pocket of his jacket. Another to find tucked under the dinner plate he’d eventually sit at, and a bunch of other sneaky places she could think of. Your favorite were probably the ones where you weren’t even in the lingerie. They were spicy, still sweet but definitely sexy and just for your husband… and Lauren because she helped you narrow down your selections. (vibes 1, 2)

‘We begin our story in New York’ was the sign at the entrance to the ceremony. You squeezed Winnie’s hand trying to not cry. Your dad met you outside Gurney's resort where all the guests had already arrived. Your mum, Winnie, and Lauren took Teddy and made their way to their seats. It was small and intimate but everyone important in your lives were there. Trent waiting anxiously for your arrival. His palms began to get clammy once he saw Teddy get plopped down in his mum's lap knowing very well that meant you were close to come walking down the aisle to him, into your marriage, into the next phase of your life.

Falling for Trent had been unexpected. You felt like your life had been a labyrinth before you ran into him on 78th Street. It was endless turns and dead ends until you found him. This unbelievably handsome, talented, intelligent, loving, man who treated you the way you deserved to be treated. He treated you like an absolute angel. When you saw him outside your apartment building for your first date you could feel your heart calm, when he held you months later a in the tunnel at Anfield, when he told you he loved you, when you moved in together, when you got pregnant, during all of these unbelievably exciting things you got to enjoy then each with the calmest of hearts, so sure he would always take care of you. He made you feel so special, so important. Out of all the amazing, incredibly important people Trent knew from around the world, he always made sure that you knew you mattered too. That you were supposed to be anywhere so purposefully. He’d squeeze your hand and your body would calm once again.

“It will be the best day of your life. Have faith.” Your dad cooed in your ear like he always did, telling you to trust and 'have faith.' Your dad stood with you before the aisle. You could feel yourself shaking. He wrapped his arm around you still holding your hand with the other. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I’m so honored I get to be a part of your day with Trent. Unbelievably happy that you found someone that returns all the love and joy you bring into everyone else’s lives.” He spoke softly and you began to tear. He wiped under your eyes and kissed your temple. You had a floaty feeling lingering all day but one of true comfort engulfed you with his reassurance. You stepped out into the aisle and shut your eyes gently for a moment taking a deep breath. Trent looked at you with a confident gaze at first. There was a tinge of nerves behind his eyes but his perfect pout fell into a soft comforting smile. He licked his lips in the way that he always did. You remember being awestruck by the way he looked in person the first time you met him, the way his skin gleamed in the golden sunlight the same way it did right now. It wasn’t surprising but it was more so just amazing how his looks had such an intoxicating effect on you, your wedding day was no exception.

'You needed more of him. He was intoxicating, he felt like you took a shot of liquor. You felt light headed, the world blurred around you, giggling to yourself at the feeling in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you. '

Walking down the aisle was a blur, literally and figuratively. Your eyes were filled with tears glazing over them but also the feeling walking down the floral pathway (vibes). You could smell the flowers and the salty air, you could feel the slight breeze coming off the water hitting your skin warmed by the beating sun’s rays, but you couldn’t really make anything else out but Trent at the end of it all, the bright devilishly handsome smile beaming back at you.Trent’s heart was thumping against his rib cage. Nostalgia rushing through him as he remembered the first time he saw you. You looked different today though in the best way possible. You looked older but in a mature more beautiful way. You looked less nervous but in a confident more beautiful way. You looked ethereal as your veil cascaded around you. The sunlight reflecting off the ocean water onto your skin through the cathedral length tulle around you. He definitely didn’t see it off the jump. He was focused on your stunning bronzy natural beachy made up face but the veil was embroidered with the date of your ceremony and a cheeky ‘Til’ Death Due Us Part - TAA.’ You were a vision, an angel on earth, and the love of his life. Your dress reflected and shined, it wasn’t anything like Trent was expecting. It was far better than anything he could’ve imagined. He mouthed an ‘You look beautiful’ with his waterline filling with tears. You responded with a pouty ‘I love you.’ You said your vows and in a way it felt like you could sense a shift, like there was a change in you that felt more at ease. It wasn’t a valid or genuine worry Trent would leave you but you were insecure and in some way, the fact that you were stood with him in front of your family and friends declaring your love, committing your life to one another was such a relief to you. It was like you could feel the anxiety draining from your body. You kept things fairly simple at the ceremony. You were stood on the very edge of a grassy cliff at the resort overlooking the water. You had filled the area with summer floral arrangements, bunches of green hydrangeas, coral delphiniums, pink dahlias and yellow ranunculuses. You loved the contrast of your ornate dress with the relaxed environment. You had convinced Trent to wear a double breasted light tan linen suit from Brunello Cucinelli with a white button down. He looked delicious and just perfect. You held his hands across from you bitting the inside of your lip trying not to cry as you said your vows. You didn’t read any personal sentiments aloud because you knew neither of you would be able to get through them without balling. You had written them and planned to share them with each other on your own time but they were just for you two to share. You whispered back and forth something you had placed in both your vows, a rendered snippet from Beethoven's letter ‘Immortal Beloved’ and while it sounds pretentious it was just something you had once read aloud to Trent once on a plane. It stuck and you often said it to each other.

“Forever yours.” You quietly spoke just to Trent before the anticipated moment to seal your marriage with a kiss when prompted by the officiant.

“Forever mine.” He responded the next line in a whisper.

“Forever ours.” You whispered ghosting your lips over his leaning in a little closer. Trent moved in and you sunk into his pillow lips. It was paradise on earth. Nothing would ever be better than kissing… your husband. It was affectionate, sweet and sincere, long enough that your photographer had a chance to get the best photo and the officiant to step out of the way. You turned around to look at all your family and friends, plenty of tears being shed in their seats. Teddy was sitting more quietly than you could’ve hoped on Dianne’s lap in the front row of seats clapping along with everyone else.

“C’mere, baby bear.” Trent cooed, picking up Teddy in his arms. He grabbed for your hand again, kissing your lips once more. “Happy for mummy and daddy?” He asked Teddy quietly in her ear. She nodded then reached out for your attention. You cupped her cheek and rubbed your nose against hers.

“You, me, and daddy forever, okay?” You whispered to her before kissing her lips. She giggled in Trent’s arms as you processed down the aisle as The Alexander - Arnold’s. You spent a good amount of time, maybe an hour or so taking photos just the three of you before your reception. Tears welled up in your eyes as you poorly tried to blink them away seeing photos being taken of just Trent and Teddy. They were your whole world but they were also so strikingly beautiful. Your bottom lip rolled into a pout looking on. You didn’t have to say anything Trent could read you like a book. You watched him whisper something to Teddy. He placed her on the grass and she ran to you with giggles.

“Mama! Mama!” She squealed. You bent down the best you could to her level, slightly restricted in your dress. “Piture with dada and Teddy.” She grabbed at your hand and pulled you. “Dada say pretty like mama.” She stopped the tug of your arm to twirl a little in front of you showing you her own dress she was absolutely loving being in.

“Yeah, my most beautiful girl. Mummy and Daddy’s pretty girl.” You pulled her back into you to kiss her lips and then let her run back to Trent as you followed in her wake. You had put Teddy in a fun Gucci dress. It was summer in Montauk, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable or give her any space to be upset or complain so you had found a really fun marine motif printed smock pleated dress in creams, blues, and pinks. She really liked twirling about in it and asking everyone she could if they had seen the ‘fwish’ on it which was adorable of course. Her hair brushed tight and slicked into a bun with a few ringlets escaping.

Your guests found their way and funneled over to the back garden overlooking the sea at your parent’s estate. You had one long table scape for all your guests for the dinner portion that lined and ran directly along the edge of the property next to the water’s edge. It had the same wildflower arrangements like those from the ceremony on the table’s runner. It was earthy and calm, natural and relaxed but of course you needed to change looks for the reception. You weren’t going to wear just one dress on your big day. You switched into a Tom Ford crochet knit dress. It was more laid back. Although it definitely didn’t feel all that relaxed to Trent.

“You need to stop looking so good or I’m going to have to make you leave our own wedding.” Tried cheekily cooed wrapping his arms low around your waist pulling your body flush against his. “You’ve been teasing me all day. Those sneaky pictures were unfair, baby. Can’t see my wife looking like that and expect me to behave.” He whispered closer to your ear.

“T… I am counting down the minutes until you take me out of the dress.” You giggled whispering back to him. “You didn’t like the photos? I thought my husband would want to see me like that only for him.” You sarcastically joked quietly to him. He hummed with some distain kissing your temple. You were in fact dreaming of Trent peeling your dress off, you wanted to rile him up with all the seductive photos you had left for him. You were desperate to get back into bed with him but for now you had your wedding to celebrate. You sat in a chair next to Trent with Teddy on your knee as Winnie got up to speak. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little nervous for what she was going to say. She introduced herself and began, your heart racing.

“Erm… growing up with Y/N was a mixed bag. She was and is my best friend but constantly being compared to the most perfect person on earth gets old quick but I imagine Marce and Ty can relate and know that feeling quite well with T. It’s one of the many many reasons there are no two people more suited. Never have two more perfect people been paired together. The envy you evoke from the entire world is completely merited and we all hate.. I mean love you for it.

"To the Alexander- Arnold boys, you are getting the best sister in the world. Somethings I know you’ve gotten a chance to come to know like you will always have the most fun and a good laugh, you will never have a bad cocktail I promise, you will always get great advise, although I’ve heard Tyler gives Y/N a run for her money in that department, and the best closet in the world to ‘borrow’ from but maybe that last bit doesn’t really apply to either of you, nevertheless she is the best sister in the world. You are inheriting one of the biggest blessings and joys of my life being related to Y/N…” Winnie continued rambling on for a little while before beginning to tell a story she wanted to share. “If you know Y/N, and I’m assuming you all do, she’s the bride.” She joked and you shook your head. “ Y/N is fairly synonymous with her best friend Lauren. They traveled a lot together and I’m not sure they every really knew where they were, I could frankly never keep up but what I did begin to notice was that a few years ago when Y/N was in England, I saw that Lauren was in Spain, when Lauren was in Amsterdam, Y/N was in England, and then oddly enough when Lauren was in Paris… Y/N was still in England. To pull them apart, it had to be something good and to be fair, I think it was.” She looked at you with a cheeky grin as you hid behind your hands embarrassed. “I just wish you had told me what was keeping you in England earlier. So in retaliation for keeping your relationship so secretive in the beginning I’m going to embarrass you but it’s my job and you should’ve known this would come up at some point, sorry.” She giggled, raising her glass to you. You shook your head with a shy grin waiting apprehensively for her to say whatever it was going to be for her to embarrass you. “I remember my jaw just about dropping through the floor into the apartment below mine when Y/N finally admitted she was seeing someone and that was why she was still in England. I figured as much but it’d be fair to say it definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. I once received a text from Y/N when she and my dad had gone to Liverpool for a match a few years prior. She sent me a cheeky picture of the man next to her right now… Yes, I have it here.” Winnie spoke and held up her phone. “Thank you, Apple for saving this as well as unearthing a lot of my embarrassing drunk texts sent in the process but I will read Y/N’s text aloud for you all. ‘I am obsessed with this boy's face.’ She sent me his instagram beneath the text to which I responded ‘wow, are you with him?’” Winnie gestured to you. “Y/N was quick to reply ‘Are you..’ Please close Teddy girl’s ears, your mum curses in the next sentence. ‘Are you fucking insane? Did you look at his instagram he plays for the club. No I’m not with him! I’d have nothing to say!!!’ Well I think you were wrong because evidently you have had plenty to say. She then sent me a photo of Trent on the pitch, just doing his job, unaware his eventual wife was in the stadium. I will skip a more crude text she had also sent.” Winnie laughed and you mouthed an ‘oh my god’ tucking your face in Trent’s neck.

“T, if you want to read, I will show you. Mum, dad, Alexander-Arnold family, I will spare you from it but moving on… I, the smart girl that I am said ‘wow, maybe you’ll get married, get dad season tickets.’ Joking of course, but coming away with the relationship you and Trent have built and the love you share is much more lucrative and valuable than any match ticket, although I know dad has been thrilled with your choice of person to fall for. To be honest, as a younger sister it was hard for me to wrap my head around Y/N moving to a new country selfishly. I had eventually met Trent a little further into the relationship and he was everything and more. T, truly you are one of my favorite people in the world, we always have a good time, you’re a terrible loser, but the best man for Y/N and an amazing father as well.I really couldn’t build a more ideal man for Y/N and I know she agrees with me. Something I know about Y/N is that she isn’t one for the spotlight but it seems to find her, I mean.. have you seen her? Regardless, I was hesitant about the whole relationship. I was scared of the lifestyle, I was scared that she’d be overlooked and under-appreciated I won't lie but there was a turning point for me that I just wanted to share quickly. Trent was visiting our house here and I heard them in the kitchen late one night. As the younger sibling I had a responsibility to eavesdrop so I listened to Trent call her an angel and I felt like he, someone, finally really understood just how amazing she is. Trent, thank you for taking care of my sister and of course my cutie niece. She is an angel and all I ask in this marriage is that you never forget or never take for granted what an angel she is.” You weren’t able to hold in your tears back anymore. Hearing Winnie begin to sniffle between her words tipped you over the edge. You kissed Teddy’s head trying not to just entirely burst into a fit. Winnie carried on a little longer with a few more jokes and well wishes. You had cut a simple sheet cake that just had the same ‘Till Death Do Us Part’ again written atop it. Your mum hated it and you adored it. The night carried on and you had the best time of your life and you were adamant about staying in the moment but you were simultaneously eager for the night to be over so you could go home with Trent, it had been far too long. You enjoyed the night partying with family and friends, Winnie was glued to Jadon, Lauren to Jude and while you were dying to hear about it all you’d have to settle to ask about them another day. As the night dwindled down you had one thing in your mind and one thing only. Your mum had taken Teddy and you were left with Trent giggling your way through the door of your room.

“Where are you going, beautiful.” Trent asked as you let go of him and scampered off into the bathroom. You giggled and shut the door into the ensuite. He wasn’t sure what you were doing but you knew that’d he’d like what you were doing. You slinked off your crochet dress and slipped into white lingerie that would make any man drool, right now, you’d hope it’d have that effect on your man.

“For my husband.” You cooed opening the door standing in its frame illuminated by the warm bathroom light. Trent’s jaw slacked just the way you had wanted it to.

“I am the luckiest man in the whole world. Holy fuck. C’mere baby.” He grinned at you. He stood up off the edge of the bed, taking both of your hands before he pulled you towards him. He sat you on the bed and leaned you backwards crawling over you. Things moved simultaneously slow and fast all at once. Before you knew it he had worked kisses down from your neck to in between your legs.

“T, oh my god baby I missed you so much.” You breathed unsteadily as he kissed the inside of your thighs before he dove nose deep into your pussy eating you out like a starved animal after your days of no sex. He was eating you out messily and you were in heaven.

“Fuck, baby. I needed this. I needed you.” He muffled out, his hot breath hitting against your wet folds covered with your juices and his spit. He played mercilessly with your pulsating clit. He was slurping you clean. Your legs were spread open for him as you gripped his hair pulling him further into you, shoving his face closer against you. The noise of it all was impossibly lewd. His plump lips latching on to your arousal. He had the cheekiest smile as he worked away, keeping his eyes flicked up to watch your face scrunch in pleasure. He dragged his tongue from your clit through your folds before he dove into your entrance, keeping his nose rubbing up and down against the sensitive nub. “Taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Please, T! Right there, oh my god.” You whined, your thighs beginning to shake. The sound of your cries making Trent grow painfully hard. He groaned into your pussy and the vibrations made you throb even more. His lips were drenched with your westness, it ran down his chin and he was loving every second of it, and to no surprise, obviously you were too. He pulled away momentarily and spit directly on your pussy, you were so sensitive even the feeling of it running down you had you whining more. You could feel your back arch involuntarily off the bed. His tongue continued to swiftly maneuver against your opening. You were so wet Trent probably could probably drown between your legs. Swiftly you felt your first orgasm of the night crash over you. He hummed kissing your sensitive clit once more pulling away with a smug grin loving the fucked out expression on your face you couldn’t wipe if you tried. He worked kisses back up your body and each one lit your skin on fire. He dragged his two fingers through your folds before brining them up for you.

“Open f’me, baby.” Trent whispered still working his kisses up you now at your neck as he brought his fingers covered in your juices and slipped them in between your lips. You moaned, swirling your tongue around his fingers sucking them like you would his cock. “Such a good girl.” He cooed removing them before he sloppily kissed you in between desperate breaths. He climbed over you once more and removed the last bit of your lingerie. “I really loved this, baby but I need to see more of you, this fucking body.” He cooed, beginning to pump his hardening cock in his hand dragging it through your wet folds.

“T, I need you inside me. Please. I want you to fuck me. I want to take all of you. Make me take you.” You begged him desperate to feel his size stretch you out again.

“I got you, baby.” He whispered, guiding his length inside of you beginning slow languid strokes. You rolled your hips up into him. He groaned feeling your hands drop from around his neck to drag your nails down his back. He looked down at you with his big mahogany eyes filled with love and laced with lust. You both moaned simultaneously as the sounds of your wet pussy squelched with every thrust stretching you out, hitting deeper and deeper. Trent bit his plump lip watching you take him. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly pulling his body down into yours. Your foot dragged down his back. He kissed you and then pulled away with a devastatingly gorgeous smile. “You’re so perfect. So fucking beautiful.” He cooed. Trent really believed that he’d never laid eyes on anyone more beautiful than you. “God, just want to marry you all over again, want to get you pregnant again, make more babies that have the most beautiful mummy in the world.”

“T. I want that. You’re so fucking amazing. I want everything with you. I want you. I want more of you, baby. I love you so much.” You babled frantically losing your breath as he pushed your knees higher up towards your chest. His eyes flicked down at your tits as they bounced from the force of his thrusts. You moaned feeling him find that spot, the spot, the one only he knew. He dropped his head into your boobs, stuffing his face between them. Your breath hitched when you felt him drag his tongue over your nipples before latching his lips to one and then the other after. Your bodies were made for one another and you could feel that sync in pleasure. Trent propped himself up above you to watch his length glide in and out, a white ring forming around the base of his cock. It’d been hours of you sprawled for him.

“I love you so much. You’re made for me. Perfect for me. I missed this so much. Fuck you feel so good.” Trent grunted, continuing his pace, lifting your one leg over his shoulder to pound into you deeper. His thrusts growing slightly sloppier.

“Fuck me, baby. Don’t stop. Please.” You whined. Nothing could ever compare to this. Your chest heaving in and out beneath him. You looked up at him and it felt like with every thrust the more and more you fell in love with him, and the closer and closer you were getting to another orgasm.

“I promise you, beautiful I will never stop fucking you for the rest of my life.” He cooed. His eyes had a glimmer in them that made your heart flutter. You were so in love with him. He was just so pretty and right now, very sexy. The way his perfect pout was slightly agape, the way his brow creased from the pleasure from fucking you was gorgeous. Only you could make him feel like this, only your pussy. Your body was made for his pleasure. Your jaw slacked when he picked up your other leg and had both held up against his shoulders. His cock pushed so deep you could see it bulge in your stomach. He leaned forwards and kissed you. “I want to get you pregnant again, baby. Fill you up so good.” He bit your lip and pulled it.

“T, please. I need you. Cum inside me. I want I do bad. Get me pregnant again.” You begged getting wetter by the second remembering the feeling what his release inside you felt like. Trent continued to rock into your sopping wet pussy. He was so rough and yet so gentle at the same time. He brushed a piece of your hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

“Going to give you everything you ever want, baby.” He smiled at you, his dimples indenting in his cheeks. You reached up and cupped his face. Your eyes shut in pleasure. “Look at me, beautiful. Right here, yeah?” He asked as he continuously hit the spot he knew you loved and he could see it on your face. You opened your eyes just enough to see his smug grin. “That’s it right? This spot. You love this, baby.” The pleasure was insatiable, it was so good.

“Yeah, T. Yeah, please. You feel so good. Right there.” You whimpered out nodding desperately pulling him down for another kiss. He kissed you back passionately but you pulled away slightly. “T, baby. I’m going to cum. Feels so fucking good.” You whined as tears began to fill your eyes. “I love you so much.” You pouted up at him.

“I know, pretty girl. Doing so good f’me.” He cooed gently, taking your hand off his face and lacing it with his and pinning it above your head. Your pussy tightened around his cock and you began to kiss his neck, nibbling and biting on his most sensitive areas. You bit down towards his collarbone when he thrusted particularly harshly into you. Your back arched up more pushing your body further into his. Every movement you made had Trent doing everything in his power to not cum. He couldn’t wait to fill you up but this felt too good to stop.

“T… I’m cumming. I can’t. Oh my god, fuck!” You cried out. He collapsed further into you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. You were moving in complete harmony and he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“I gotta cum baby, gonna fill you up. Get you pregnant. Fuck you feel good.” His brow furrowed as he dropped his hands to your hips with a harsh grip as he thrusted into you again and again with more precision. “Make a mess, baby. Go ahead, beautiful. Cum f’me.” He grunted and you moaned as waves and waves of white hot pleasure coursed through you. He began to slow his pace. You wrapped your hands around his strong biceps, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as you pulled him into you more. You whined feeling yourself drip down the inside of your thighs. A puddle beneath you. You were following instructions, you were definitely making a mess on his cock. He held your hips tighter and he groaned as he pumped his hot white cum inside of you. It continued to ooze out with his slow thrusts.

“You’re perfect.” You panted out half way delirious not even sure where you were but very sure whose you were. His. His forever.

“This is the best day of my life.” He rolled over to your side and pulled you into him drowsily. His chest rose and fell as you moved tighter to him unable to keep away. Velvety ropes of him spilled out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Good girl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

“I… I love you so much T, baby.” You stuttered out barely able to form words. He hushed you pulling you into his slick warm skin. He peppered kisses all over you letting your body calm in his arms.

“I love you so much, Mrs. Alexander Arnold.” He hummed with a smile seeing your pouty face, fucked out of your mind. You could barely keep your eyes open from the orgasmic haze you were currently in. He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed you in. Waves and waves of comfort rushed through him from your scent alone. “My angel baby. You’re so beautiful. God, the most beautiful mummy, the most beautiful wife.” He cooed as his one hand gingerly and playfully toyed with the new stack of wedding ringers on your finger.

•

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

Next part - Chapter 25 xx

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

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leafjoon · 11 months ago

Text

Between the Lines - pt. I

tbhc!alex x reader this chapter is bascially a slow burn, fluffy vibe charged w some sexual tension between the reader who is in college n our beloved alix who becomes her editor. warnings: age gap, alex is 33, reader is in her 20's, cursing, alcohol.

In the heart of the university campus, a quaint café served as a haven for students. Seated at a cozy corner table Y/N and her best friend, Sophie, found comfort in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of hushed conversations.

The soft glow of pendant lights cast a warm ambiance over mismatched wooden furniture, creating a warm atmosphere. Amidst the rustling of students immersed in textbooks and the distant murmur of espresso machines, Y/N and Sophie navigated the labyrinth of academia.

"Ugh, I suck," you groaned, holding your English lit paper in your hands.

"You don't," said Sophia.

"I got a C, Soph."

"Didn’t you do this on three hours of sleep?" she looked at you.

"Yeah," you grumbled.

"You'll do better next time."

"Ugh. I know. It's just such a blow to my confidence," you said, sipping on your ginger tea.

"I know. But this grade doesn't determine your skills. You're great at writing," she said, swirling her spoon in her iced coffee.

"Well. That's debatable," you replied.

She glared at you.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop talking shit about myself," you rolled your eyes.

"Good." She said pleased with your answer.

You scanned the coffee shop and saw students going about their normal routines. Some of them were hurrying to get to their lectures on time. Others were lazing around in their seats, talking to their friends. Chatter filled the room as you let out a stressed out sigh. You sulked, not knowing how you were gonna recover from this grade.

"Anyway, as I was telling you. I asked my dad about Mr. Turner. He said you can give him a call and ask him to check out your novel."

"Oh god,” you groaned. “I mean-thank you so much. I don't wanna seem ungrateful, I just-I don't know. It feels awkward showing someone my short novel. If you can even call it that,” you rambled.

"I get it. I get embarrassed when I show my tutor my paintings. And he always has something to say," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Soph, your paintings are incredible. And your guy is good."

"That's true," she said, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

You smiled at her. You loved your best friend. You met in high school and became close friends senior year. You used to spend hours at each other's places, watching shows and mulling over the characters. She was one of the few people who was there for you through thick and thin and you weren't afraid to show your vulnerable side to her, insecurities and all.

"I'll send you his phone number and you can contact him whenever."

"Okay. Will do." You said, scrunching your face.

"If you don't do it, I will.”

"Ugh, I'll do it, I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

"I can't wait to go out on Friday. I need to get drunk and forget," you groaned.

"Same. We've been too stressed out lately. We need to let loose," Sophie added.

You and Sophie had a tradition. No matter the circumstances you always went out on the weekend. You often drank alcohol at your favorite bar or club and danced until your feet were numb and your hearts were pounding. Then you stumbled to one of your dorms and ate junk food or watched a shitty movie.

Sophie looked down at her phone, her clock reading 1:47 PM.

"Well, I have to run. I have Literary Criticism soon,” she remarked.

"With Mr. spits when he talks?" you replied.

"That's the one," she said, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

You chuckled. "Good luck."

"I’ll see you later," she leaned down, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You, on the other hand, finished your lectures for the day. Your Mondays weren't as rough, consisting of only two lectures in the morning and god, were you thankful for that.

Your eyes darted to your phone screen, after you received a notification from Sophie.

Alexander Turner

+378 09 998 890

Anxiety gnawed at you. You took a deep breath and told yourself It’s fine. He gets paid for this kind of job. He’s probably seen worse writing.

You decided to be brave and text him as there's no way you were calling him.

Hello Mr. Turner. Peter Herring recommended you as an editor. I am currently working on a short novel and I am interested in hiring you. Would you be interested in that? Thank you in advance.

You typed it out, reading it again. You erased the words ‘short novel’ leaving it blank.

"Ugh." You said out loud. You decided to retype it and send it without thinking too much, letting out a sigh of relief.

As you were scrolling on your phone, it suddenly started vibrating and a number appeared. It read Mr. Turner.

Oh god. Why the hell is he calling me? Doesn’t this guy know how to text?

You answered your phone hesitantly, bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hi." a low voice spoke.

"Um. Is this Mr. Turner?"

"Yeah. What's your name, love? You didn't introduce yourself," he said in a thick British accent.

"Oh-um, I'm (Y/N)."

"Alright, (Y/N). You're interested in hiring an editor, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Great. How's Wednesday evening work for you? 7pm, my office? We can discuss the details then."

"Um, Wednesday evening? Yeah I'm good with that," you said.

"Alright. I'll send you my address then. Don't forget your novel," he added.

"Yes. Thank you," you sputtered.

And with that he hung up the phone. You stood there bewildered at this phone call. You just agreed to go to this random man's office on a Wednesday. You had no idea he was british. Why didn't Soph tell you he was british?

Well I guess you have an editor now.

In the sanctuary of your dormitory, you and Sophie nestled on your sofa as you found comfort beneath your favorite blanket.

"I had no idea he was british! His accent was so thick Soph. Like, I had never heard it before."

Sophie was laughing at you. "I thought I mentioned it."

"Well you didn't. Nothing could have prepared me for that. He was so swift and straight to the point. Skipped all the usual bullshit."

"Yep, that's Turner for you," she replied.

"How did your dad meet him again?" you inquired.

"Oh, he was his student in college. Mr. Turner lived in London for a few years and then moved here after my dad recommended him for this sort of writing position," she shrugged.

"Huh. That's interesting," you said. "Hey, what does this guy look like?" you asked, your curiosity peaking.

"Hmm. Let me show you his Facebook," she said.

"His Facebook?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"What? He doesn't have Instagram. He's in his 30s." she added.

"Right," you nodded. You got up and sat next to her, both of you staring at her phone. She found his Facebook page and clicked on his photos.

"He's kinda cute," you said, breaking the silence. Sophie chuckled at your reaction. "He’s good looking," she shrugged.

He had big brown eyes and medium length hair that went past his ears, down to the nape of his neck. His beard seemed neat and trimmed.

"Don't get any ideas now," she looked at you, teasing. "I'm not. I want to see how he looks like so I'm not completely blind sided when I get there."

"Anyway," you continued. "Do you wanna sleep over tonight? My roomie's not here."

"Oh my gosh, yes. I'll go grab my stuff," she exclaimed. "Okay," you said in a singsong and slumped down on your sofa, stretching out your legs.

You couldn't help but feel jittery for Wednesday. You let your thoughts wander for a little, wondering what he was like.

The week was passing quickly, and it was finally Wednesday. You were preparing to leave and go to Mr. Turner's place. To say you were a little nervous would be an understatement. Your palms were sweaty, and you weren't sure what you were wearing was appropriate.

You questioned if you looked like you were trying too hard as you opted for baggy brown suit pants and a red shirt with long sleeves.

Ugh. I'm sure he doesn't give a rat's ass about what I'm wearing.

As you put on your big leather jacket and wrapped a black scarf around your neck, the words he spoke echoed in your mind. "Don't forget your novel." As you went back to your room, you made sure to grab your novel and quickly stuffed it into your tote bag as well as your dorm keys. You couldn't help but wonder if any of his clients had ever forgotten theirs.

You decided to take the bus to his office and followed the instructions he texted you.

102 Ave Street. Nr. 32. If you have difficulties finding it, call me.

As you strolled around the neighborhood, you spotted a house with the number 32. You walked past his charming little garden and couldn't help but admire how nicely maintained it was.

Now, standing in front of his door, a mix of excitement and nerves crept over you. Unsure of whether to give a knock or press the doorbell, anticipation filled the air. You decided to knock.

As you took a moment to take in your surroundings, the sound of the door being opened reached your ears. Stepping into the view was a figure of a pale man.

"Uh, hello," you said, extending your hand for him to shake. "Good evening," he said, a slight awkward smile on his face. He glanced down at your hand for a few seconds before finally reaching out to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Turner," you said, maintaining the handshake. "Likewise. Please, come inside and feel at home," he invited you.

"Thank you," you quietly replied as you stepped into his house, though a slight feeling of uncertainty lingered. It almost felt like intruding. "This way to my office," he directed, gesturing towards the left.

"Would you like a drink? Coffee or tea?" he asked. "Uh, tea would be fine. Thanks."

As you walked into his office, you settled into one of the inviting chairs positioned near his desk. Your gaze wandered to the oak wood bookcase that adorned the room, its shelves overflowing with a collection of books. Your eyes were drawn to the carefully placed plants that created a warm and inviting atmosphere. You wondered if anyone else lived in this house, although it seemed empty by the looks of it.

"Here you go," he interrupted your thoughts, setting down a mug with hot tea. "I brought you ginger. I don't know if you like it or not," he said with a serious tone. "Oh, that's my favorite actually," you said, smiling awkwardly.

"Great. Careful, it's hot," he looked at you and gave you a half smile. You blushed a little and brought the mug to your mouth, taking a sip. "So, did you bring your novel?" he said, staring at you.

You tried to speak and swallow at the same time and ended up choking on your drink. You coughed for a few minutes as Alex stared at you, his face laced with concern.

"Erm.." he shifted so he could tap your back. "Try to look up. It should help," he said.

You followed his instructions and looked up at the ceiling, coughing. Your throat seemed to calm down.

"S-sorry," you barely managed to say. "No worries. You alright?"

"Yes," you exhaled and took out the novel, handing it to him, trying to move past the awkward situation. "Thank you," he muttered.

He took your novel and opened it, setting it down on the desk. Your legs were only a few centimeters away from each other. You shifted slightly, not wanting to invade his personal space.

You realized he hadn't asked you to send him your novel and wondered if you had made a mistake. Perhaps you should have asked him about it.

"Um... should I have sent a digital copy of it to you?" you questioned. "No, it's quite alright. I prefer reading it in front of my clients," he said, his gaze not leaving the book.

You felt awkward, to say the least. It wasn’t pleasant having someone read your work right in front of you. Especially when you thought editors usually familiarize themselves with your work beforehand.

You fumbled with your fingers, unsure what to do with yourself. Bringing the hot mug to your lips, you took a few sips. Your eyes wandered around the room and settled on Alex. He looked like he was studying your work, wearing a serious expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

He looked handsome. When a few strands of hair fell on his face, he tucked them behind his ear. You felt your cheeks heat up and looked away before he could catch you staring.

As you anxiously awaited his response, doubts clouded your mind about whether any of the sentences you wrote were coherent. You nervously retrieved your phone from your bag, feeling the clamminess on your palms. However, before you could reach out to a friend, he abruptly spoke up.

“S’good,” he looked up at you nodding. “Really? But you didn’t read that much.." you weren't sure what to say.

“I don’t need to. I can see that it’s straightforward and has a clear direction. It’s a bit wordy though and needs some work.” He added.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. He noticed you slumped a little and found it endearing. He had to remind himself of your age and sensitivity.

“But don’t fret. It’s nothing we can’t fix,” he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Right,” you smiled politely. You looked at him for a split-second and then glanced down at your hands.

“Well. I need to read the rest of your novel now. I only wanted to give you a clear picture of what we were gonna do in the upcoming weeks and how this works,” you nodded.

“For now we can meet once every two weeks and then see how your work progresses. Does Wednesday work for you, around this time?” “Uh-yes. I can do that.”

“Perfect. I want to recommend two books for you to read that could help you with your writing. Could you grab “On Writing”, by Stephen King from the bookshelf there?” he pointed to a book with a brown hardcover.

You stood up and spotted the book he was talking about. “This one?” you asked. “Yes. And also the “Bird by Bird” on your left.” You looked around but didn’t see the book he was talking about.

He stood up, approaching you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His hand reached out just above your head, and a tantalizing scent reached your nose. The subtle blend of cigarette smoke and lavender emerged from his clothing.

“That’s your right,” he said behind you, amused. “Oh, right,” you chuckled awkwardly.

He got back to his desk and handed you the book, your fingers grazing his.

“You don’t need to read these in over a week. This isn’t school,” he chuckled. “But they should help you improve and explore different methods of writing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Turner,” you mumbled. “Oh, feel free to call me Alex,” he said. “Okay. Alex,” you replied.

You felt strange saying his name in such a casual manner. It felt like you were talking to a friend your age, not a 30 something year old accomplished editor and god knows what else.

“Oh uh, how do I pay for this?” “My secretary will contact you for that. The first session was meant for us to get acquainted and make sure that we are a good fit."

“Great,” you said. “Alright.” He looked at you. “Right. Then I’ll be going. Thank you, again. It was nice meeting you,” you mumbled.

“It was nice meeting you too,” he smiled and guided you to the door. You waved goodbye, and exited his house, the cold autumn air surrounding you. Well, now you really have an editor.

Alex didn't expect, well, you. He knew you were younger but god, were you a pretty little thing. His usual clients were a lot older and well, half of them were men.

He tried not to get carried away as his mind swirled with different thoughts about you. He didn't want to be creepy and he never wanted to give you that impression. So he tried his best to be professional.

But you were making it so hard. With your pouty lips and your fumbling hands every time you waited for a response from him. You wore these perfectly fitting tops that hugged your body. Occasionally when you moved around, the fabric would subtly reveal a glimpse of your midriff, making it impossible not to gawk at you. He thought you were simply adorable.

"So, how are your classes going? Anyone giving you trouble?" He asked, genuinely interested. "They're going well," you trailed off, sighing.

"It's one of my professors. I don't think he likes me," you murmured. "Who?" he asked.

"Professor Miller," you slumped a little. "Oh. Well I don't think he likes anyone if that makes you feel any better," you laughed. "No but seriously, what’s the problem?" he asked.

"I have the lowest grade in his class," you said, rolling your eyes, a little embarrassed to admit. "Grades aren't everything (Y/N). I've had my fair share of shitty grades too."

"What if I just suck though?" you asked, finding it unbelievable how comfortable you felt talking to him after knowing him only for a few weeks. "Nah. I would have dropped you by now," he teased you.

You gasped. “I’m only joking. You have a lot of potential,” he said, softly gazing into your eyes.

You smiled, feeling at ease.

"If you want I can help you with your assignments. Give you tips and such. Free of charge," he joked.

Both of you couldn't help but notice that your knees were touching but you felt comfortable staying close.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "Yeah. What else am I gonna do with my time?" he said. "Thanks," you said, feeling like this is beginning to border on inappropriate. But you didn't care.

"How about tomorrow, after your classes, you come by and we can see what we can do."

You nodded. "Okay. Sounds great."

You had entranced him. He knew it was inappropriate. He was your editor, after all. And much older than you. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand the idea of any of these college guys having you. You were too good. Too sweet.

He wanted to be the one who owned you. He often imagined what it would be like to graze your delicate skin with his fingers. Make you shiver under his touch. Or how you mouth would feel around his coc-

"I hate writing!" you exclaimed, getting up from his couch and pacing around. You guys had moved from his office to his living room. He wanted you to feel comfortable.

He listened to you intently as you explained what you meant to convey in your latest pages. He could have easily done this over an email, but no, he had to see you. Your low voice, sweet like honey, reached his ears.

You sighed. "I don't know. I feel like I'm losing sight of my story. I have no idea what to do next." You said, biting your lip.

"Maybe you should leave it be," Alex replied.

"Huh?" you questioned.

"Well you've been working really hard at it lately. When was the last time you did something else you were passionate about?"

"I-," you paused, "I don't know," you mumbled, sitting down next to him again.

"See? You need to forget about it for a while. Create some distance."

You mulled over his words. "Is that what you do?"

"Course. Every artist does."

You looked at him like the world hung on his lips.

"Yeah. I can try that," you said, a worried expression on your face.

"No," he laughed. "Don't take this as another assignment. I mean really forget about it. Do something that doesn't make you think about writing."

You thought about it for a while and asked "Like what?"

He hesitated. "Well." Fuck it, he thought. "I have two tickets to the theater tonight," he raised his eyebrows slightly. "One of my friends canceled on me and you can join me if you want.”

His gaze met yours as you registered what he asked you. He looked at you, biting his lip, worrying if he had been too forward.

"What's the play about?" you asked, caving in. He tried to contain his smile and continued "It's ballet. The last swan lake."

"Oh, I've always wanted to see that," you said. "Great. We can meet in front of the theater at 7:30. That alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. Sounds good," you replied, trying to contain your enthusiasm. "I'll see you later then."

As you were getting ready in your small bathroom, you couldn't help but feel nervous about tonight, butterflies swirling in your stomach. We can meet for a drink beforehand, if you want. My treat. He told you a few hours ago, wearing a shy smile.

You had reluctantly agreed. You wanted to spend time with him so badly but you felt like you were doing something wrong. You hadn’t even told Sophie yet.

You got dressed, slipping on your silky tights past your legs. You decided to wear a delicate black dress with long sleeves that exposed your plush thighs. Pairing it with your leather jacket and your red scarf, you slung your small handbag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave.

You decided to take your earphones with you and listen to music to calm your nerves.

When you arrived at the charming bar he had picked, you flung the door open and entered. lThe cozy ambience enveloped you as you stepped inside, a welcoming contrast to the crisp evening air outside.

Alex, already seated at a secluded corner table, looked up from his menu, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of you entering.

As you made your way towards him, the gentle flicker of candlelight played on the edges of his features. "You made it," he said, rising from his seat and pulling your chair out for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your cheeks rosy from the cold. You sat down, not knowing what to do with your hands or where to look. This felt strangely intimate.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked you.

“Uh. What are you getting?” you replied.

“Probably a beer.” He said.

“I guess I’ll get a glass of white wine then,” you replied, feeling somewhat awkward. You didn’t expect in a million years to have drinks with your editor.

“You sure? You can get anything you want. Like I said, it’s my treat.” He smiled.

“Thank you. Yeah I’m good,” you replied bashfully.

After the waiter brought your drinks you started delving into conversation.

"So, um, tell me more about yourself," Alex prompted, his gaze lingering on you.

You giggled, sipping your drink. "Well, there's not much to tell. Just a struggling student trying to make it out alive."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "From what I've seen, there's more than meets the eye."

You met his gaze, and the air shifted, charged with an unspoken tension. "You know, I never expected my editor to be someone who could make me forget about writer's block."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Maybe I'm just that good at my job."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between discussions of literature, shared interests, and personal anecdotes. As the night progressed, the topics ventured into more intimate territories, the subtle dance of words revealing layers beneath the surface.

"You have this way of making the mundane sound interesting," you remarked, now both on your second drink. You could feel your face heat up from the alcohol.

Alex leaned in, his gaze intense yet inviting. "Maybe it's the company that makes it interesting."

The words lingered in the air, a palpable tension settling between you. Unspoken desires sparked beneath the surface.

"Well, I find the company interesting too," you replied.

A hint of a smirk crossed Alex's face as he took a sip of his drink. "Careful now," he said. "Interesting company can be quite... distracting."

A subtle blush crept onto your cheeks. "Distracting can be a good thing." you replied.

"What are you distracting yourself from?" he asked, his gaze lingering on yours.

“I’m not sure. Everyone has problems, I guess,” you looked down at your hands.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t want to bore you,” you chuckled.

“You could never,” he replied, his tender eyes meeting yours. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you cleared your throat and looked at the time. “Oh, I think we should get going,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alex said and he gestured to the waiter for the bill. You thanked him for the drinks and promised you would return the favor next time you saw him. He agreed but knew he wouldn’t let you pay for anything, especially since you were just a student.

You had an amazing time seeing "Black Swan" at the theater. The ballet was captivating, and the music was incredible. You also noticed Alex glancing at you a few times throughout the show.

After the show, Alex walked you to your cab. Under the streetlights, there was a quiet moment filled with something more than words. You exchanged a look that said it all, a shared understanding between you. As you got into the cab, Alex stood on the sidewalk with a thoughtful smile and waved goodbye.

When you arrived at your dorm, your phone vibrated.

Did you get home safely? - Mr Turner.

Your heart fluttered.

Yes.

Great. Good night.

Night.

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you huddled into your bed and drifted off to sleep, embracing your pillow. The night ushered you into a world of dreams.

#next chapter will be angsty and smutty smut smut i got yall #arctic monkeys #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fic #tbhc #tbhc alex turner #alex turner x y/n #idk if there r any mistakes but fuq it i guess ive been looking at it for so long

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