Latest Posts by l5byrinth - Page 5

HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY BAES

SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IT WAS MY BDAY YESTERDAY AND I HAD A PARTY TODAY AND YESTERDAY SO I WAS QUITE BUSY BUT I WILL CONTINUE WRITING LIKE RN 😚😚😚

trent blurb : having a full album of pictures of you in his phone.. loving to take candid pictures all the time and changing his wallpaper to his fav ones of you

he is obsessed with taking pics of you, he thinks you look so beautiful when you aren't trying, with a smile on your face as you watch a bird using the bird feeder you put out or when you're concentrating on a piece of work you have to get done. he has so many pictures of you asleep on his chest or when you're starfished out on the bed when he wakes up in the morning. he ends up making an album for you, naming it something corny that reminds him of you, he has a slideshow background of his favourite ones. you always blush when you need to use his phone, being welcomed by your face when you open up his phone. his friends always tease him about it, telling him that he's whipped for you but he doesn't care, he's obsessed with you can doesn't care who knows.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⟡ summary: just a lovely morning with your boyfriend.

⟡ content: very fluffy, clingy jude, established relationship, short, around three hundred words.

⟡ notes: had this in my drafts for a while, so thought i should post this because i have too many. requests are open:))

⟡ streaming: tip toe by hybs.

⟡ masterlist.

mornings with jude were usually hectic and far from peaceful. you would quickly get ready for your respective commitments and barely have any time for each other before rushing out the door.

but today was different. it was friday, and jude had been granted a few days off due to a shoulder injury. despite the unfortunate circumstances, jude was excited about the prospect of spending the entire day with you.

his plan was to stay in bed all morning, cuddling and making up for lost time, if you know what i mean. however, you had other plans in mind.

you were accustomed to waking up early and being productive. so as you attempted to free yourself from jude’s firm hold, he unconsciously grunted, his body pressing against yours.

nevertheless, you paid no attention to his murmurs and left the bed, causing jude to grumble even more.

“come back to bed,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. you couldn’t help but find it endearing how much he longed for you. “i’m tired,” he added, lightly tapping your pillow.

deciding to tease him, you donned an exaggerated pout and adopted a whiny tone, as if speaking to a child. “oh, you’re tired? i’m so sorry baby, it must be so difficult for you.”

jude expressed his annoyance, stating, “actually, scratch that. when i said i was tired, what i really meant was that i’m tired of you being a sarcastic little shit.”

you chuckled, returning to the bed with a gentle smile. “well, i’m your sarcastic little shit.” you playfully remarked, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

jude seized the chance to embrace you, shifting his position so that he loomed over you with his much larger frame, making you nearly invisible beneath him.

“jude!” you gasped for breath, “do need to remind you that you’re six feet tall? you’re not exactly on the small side!”

he seemed unfazed by the fact that his weight was completely crushing you, and retorted mockingly, “i’m actually six foot one, baby.”

rolling your eyes, you chose not to respond and surrendered to jude’s agenda for the day.

to be fair, it wasn’t too bad at first. however, once his snoring started again, all you desired was to kick him from the bed.

HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR POOKIES!!!

FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF

Nah but same my passion for this fandom reignited after watching tbosas, and I forgot how much I loved Finnick. Peeta and everyone else is absolutely great but Finnick's story just... My heart :( So any fluff resulting in Finnick getting a big old cuddle and being allowed to ask for things he wants and needs instead of doing anything he's asked out of instinct would be right up my alley, if that's amenable to you!

here it is i kind of combined it with another request but i hope you like it 🤍 TYSMMM FOR THE REQUEST

Can u pleaseee write something about reader comforting finnick after he was sold to a customer for a night? Because he doesn’t deserve that and I love him so very much

here it is i kind of combined it with another request but i hope you like it 💕💕

safe and sound

“you'll be alright, no one can hurt you now.”

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: in which finnick shows up at your doorstep and vents his heart out.

warnings/contains: fluff, idk tbh lmk if i should add more

requested

a/n: i combined this with another request bc they were quite similar but tysm for the requests anons 🫶🏼 btw i didn’t really know how to end it im so sorryyy it’s bad. actually this entire one shot is bad 😭

As the sun set, you watched it from behind glass, captivated by the colours adorning the sky. It was something you rarely did, mostly because you had an insanely busy schedule as a former victor who lived in the capitol.

A knock on your door, however, ruined the one moment you had on your own. With a sigh, you walked towards the door, wondering who was visiting you at this hour. When you opened, you were surprised when you were met with Finnick. Yes, the Finnick Odair. The victor from district four who you had grown a fond friendship with. And had on whom you had a secret little crush on. “Hi, finn?” You questioned, rather than said, wondering why he was at your doorstep out of the blue.

Your relationship with Finnick was… difficult. The two of you had shared a kiss and admitted your feelings to each other before, but nothing really came from it. Mostly because you were both scared what would happen when the friendship you shared would blossom into something more. Besides, you hadn’t talked to him for quite some time.

And yet here he was standing silently in front of you. There was something about him that just didn’t sit right with you. His usual cocky and confident attitude, was replaced with an entirely different one. “Well, come in.” The door creaked when you opened it further and you cringed at the sound of it. He walked towards your living space, as if he had already been here countless of times, which he had of course.

It was like his second home before it got complicated between the two of you.

You closed the door behind you, before following him, a million questions filling your head. He didn’t utter a word, staring at the same sunset you had been watching only a minute ago. “Finnick, is everything alright?”

And it was as if that was his tipping point, because he suddenly stumbled into your arms. You were taken aback, that’s for sure, but you hugged him tight nevertheless. You cooed sweet nothings as tears left his eyes like a waterfall. While soothingly rubbing his back, you let him cry his eyes out, not caring that your sweater was now soaking wet from his tears.

“Finn, whatever it is, just let it out.” You said softly, waiting for him to have cried it all out. The man holding onto you for dear life felt ashamed for breaking down like this. But after what he had been through that night, he just couldn’t bottle it up anymore like he usually did. And when he realised it, the only person who he would want by his side was you.

“Sorry.” Finnick mumbled with his head rested on your shoulder. And if you weren’t so close to him, you probably wouldn’t have heard it. He pulled away, one of his hands lingering on your waist, as he wiped the tears on his cheeks with the other. He had been looking down the entire time, but when he finally looked up at you, you could see the pain and fatigue in his eyes. “Oh, finnick.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into the comforting touch.

After he had calmed down, the two of you sat down on your couch. The same couch you were sat at when you finally admitted your feelings. But none of that was important at the moment. Finnick told you about everything he had been going through since he became a victor at the age of fourteen. The man in front of you told things you could never imagine anyone to go through. Your heart broke for Finnick the more he explained and you wished you had noticed this all sooner.

You drew him in for another hug, telling him you would do anything for him. You assured him, “We will get through this together and make sure nothing happens to you anymore. I’m here for you, Finn. And whatever you need, you can ask me.” Finnick nodded knowingly, wiping away the tears that had fallen down your face because of his story, “I know, love. You always are.”

“I know it’s hard, but whatever happens, you’re safe and sound. With me.” You grabbed ahold of his hands and pecked his knuckles lovingly, his heart skipping a beat. A small grateful smile made its way onto his face as he drew you in closer, wrapping his arms around you while you rested your head on his chest. It was as if a weight had fallen off of his shoulder and he let out a contented sigh.

He indeed felt safe and sound. With you.

are you willing to write for trent alexander arnold? if so please write something fluffy or something antsy which gets resolved and turns to fluff

it’s you - trent alexander arnold x reader.

quick sum: love is never easy. especially when you least expected it from liverpools finest bachelor. will you finally take the leap of faith, or lose the guy who’s willing to do the extreme for you to see reality.

wc: 1.9k | masterlist | trent’s masterlist

psa🗣️: hi angel! and hello to my trent girlies! i haven’t written for trent before so i hope you enjoy this 🤍

you felt stuck. constantly looking around and avoiding the man that had consumed your thoughts in ways you didn’t picture. feeling awkward and timid when he walked past you or your eyes connected. 

the trip was last minute, you didn’t plan to go if it wasn’t your friend insisting you went since she would be alone. you didn’t want to go, it meant you would have to see trent after you avoided him since he confessed his feelings to you. 

trent wasn’t one to speak much. always reserved and kept to himself, a completely different person on the pitch and in real life. but with you, he felt he could speak for hours about everything, not once get tired of it. you let him be the person he would’ve never pictured to be. 

what went wrong? 

he knew you from the back of your hand. needed to keep yourself busy in order to survive. an almost graduate from uni and working at your dream internship. a small volunteer worker just outside the city. 

he knew when you lied, scrunching your eyes brows and hands twitching. he knew when you felt happy, the small wrinkles and dimples popping on your face. he knew you were upset when you bit your lip and unfocused around your surroundings. 

trent knew you felt the same way he did but this time he couldn’t properly read you, left hurt and confused by your manner. “i’m in love you with y/n… i’ve never felt like this for anyone before. and it feels so right when i’m here, with you.” 

his brows drew in when your smile slowly dropped, pulling your hands back and cleared your throat. “trent…” you whispered, you clenched your jaw unsure of what to say. “i need time to think of this. i-i-i just don’t know what to say…” you stood up and grabbed your coat. 

“say you love me back,” trent prayed in his head, watching you stumble around to retrieve your belongings. “what do you mean? i confess how i feel and you’re running away?” 

“i need time to think. this is all so sudden, and i don’t want to pressure either of us. or give us false hope,” you smiled trying to reason and not break his heart. but trent’s heart broke, a millions thoughts racing in his head and the idea of not being enough tracing back. 

he fluttered his lashes and painfully smiled, was he about to cry? is this what pain felt like? a stab in the heart, millions of needles poking in his chest as his hands fisted. “well you know the way out…” trent motioned with his hand, walking to the side to let you go. 

you approached him, having the urge to explain why you said what you said, but he walked back. tears came out your eyes, knowing you hurt the man you loved in front of you. “trent,” you croaked, but he just shook his head. 

“don’t.” 

not a single soul knew of the two of you. a private secret. he wanted to protect you from his hectic world. and you wanted to have something genuine and real. you had something real. had. but like always you ruined it. like every person who walked into your life, leaving because you were scared. 

trent was straight forward with you. always communicating with you. the only person you found yourself lurking to at the end of the day. his touch lingering on you ever when you weren’t together. the way he smiled made your heart heat up and your hands slightly tremble. 

you didn’t deserve him. you were a broken person. afraid of committing. you were afraid of love. the idea of falling for a person, so hopelessly devoted to them, and in the end for it to not work out. you easily got attached, and it wasn’t any different with trent. 

trent had a way different life than yours. lights, money, women, his job, all shining on him wherever he went. he had a family, friends, a base supporting him, while you it was just your sister and trio. he constantly reminded you he wasn’t the person in the papers, which was true. 

he valued you. he trusted you. he confided in you. he respected you. he loved you. why couldn’t you just allow yourself to be with him? why did it feel hard to finally accept and take the leap of faith and be with the man who has ever truly loved you? 

you were stressed. constantly turning in your sleep. eyes closing but your head refusing for you to sleep. chest rising and falling as you listened quietly to the rain fall. the sheets barely covering your body, and the pillow feeling less fluffy and now hot. with a small groan you stood up, the time reading almost 4 am. 

you tipped tied downstairs. walking by the room your friends and his friends were occupied in. the thunder and lightning shining in the open and clear windows. you opened the cabinet and grabbed a glass, pouring cold water to relieve your dry throat. 

you closed your eyes, hands gripping the counter as you felt goosebumps suddenly rise. “couldn’t sleep?” you gasped quietly, the glass slowly tipping before quickly catching it and standing up straight. trent stood there, bags under his eyes, lips pursed with his arms crossed. muscles flexed under the loose black tee he wore with his black calvin klein boxers. 

“something like that,” you said, averting your gaze, hand coming up to brush your skin or maybe the nerves away. he stepped closer, inspecting you, noticing you were wearing the small black shirt he owned with your batman themed shorts. “same. couldn’t sleep with all the noise outside…” trent confessed, also grabbing a cold glass of water. 

you went quiet. the feeling of guilt consuming your insides as you kept asking yourself if this was truly happening. you couldn’t stop staring, savouring maybe the last few glances in case it would be the last. trying to make a mental imprint of the moles you traced while he slept, the small scar under his brow, his lips. 

your throat went dry again, but this time the cold glass of water wasn’t going to help, the only thing that could was finally take that leap and let him out of misery for the two of you. “trent…” you said softly, hearing him and finally connecting eyes. 

“don’t you think i deserve an explanation?” he asked with a sad smile. you bit your lip and nodded. “yes you do. and i’m willing to explain everything, but i understand if it’s too late,” you respected his feelings knowing he deserved this but also not wanting to push him to the limit. 

“i love you. i do. so much. i need you to know that before i start saying anything,” his eyes widened a bit, mouth opened to say something but you shushed him. “for once in my life, i can’t let you or us go. i made the mistake that night and i beat myself for it. not only did i hurt you in the process but also the idea of us.” 

“i’m scared,” you teared, smiling. “it’s scary to feel this way. to have my heart racing when i hear your name, our song, your voice. love to me always felt like a joke or fantasy. love is about letting someone know your map of flaws and imperfections. to fully be vulnerable.” 

“love with you though? is like a dream come true. you understand me more than i understand myself. you saw me for who i am and not the person i put myself to be. you love me at my prettiest and also lowest. you hold me close, kiss my forehead, and use those words of reassurance i need to hear and always believe.” 

“i love when you sleep next to me, where i get to stare at the prettiest man on earth as you sleep. i love to see your smile get bigger when i tell you about the kids at my volunteer work or my jokes. i love to sit with you at the end of the day and allow me to hear about your job and family. to see the flowers you send or bring when i see you. trent i love you, so much.” 

“i’m scared to lose you. to lose the only person i’ve let into my life this close,” you shrugged smiling painfully, holding yourself tighter as you wiped your tears away. you hear his footsteps approach, sobbing quietly when he pulls you closer to him, his hand brushing your head, feeling his lips kiss your temple. the longing feeling replaced with warmth and safety. 

your skin becoming hot and getting rid of the cold goosebumps and chilling feeling in your chest. you kiss his chest, tip toeing up as you continue to trace his neck and jaw, his cheeks with kisses mixed with your tears. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry trent,” you apologised, your hand gripping his bicep. 

“stop. don’t torture yourself anymore. let me hold you. let me feel you. it’s just you and me, okay? shhhh,” he hushed you, repeating his same movements to help you calm down. you sniffled, pulling back slightly after a minute. “i deserve you. i love you, and your imperfections and flaws. for allowing me to become the man i wished and longed to be.” 

“please don’t push me away anymore. you aren’t ever going to lose me, because what we have is eternal. your love to me is a safe space, the world and women i dreamed of having and i finally have it now. it’s you, always will be you baby,” he brushed your tears away, feeling your lips kiss his wrist and hand, losing himself in your eyes. 

“i love every single part of you.” 

the chilling counter made you hold trent tighter while laughing, feeling and hearing his deep chuckle as his hands traced your thighs. “are you ready now?” he asked, kissing your collarbone. “more than ready,” you said, officially taking the leap of faith. 

he sighed and let his shoulders fall in a relaxed manner and smiling, watching as his eyes closed and lashes touched his upper cheeks. “trent look at me…” he stood up and grabbed your chin, “i love you,” you felt the need to say to confirm your feelings and his. “i love you, pretty girl,” his nose nuzzled into your neck, tracing all the way up to your cheek. 

you sealed the night with the anticipated kiss. getting the blood rush through your veins, as you fully focused on him. his lips feeling like home. his fingers bringing your face closer to his and getting lost in the way he devoured you. not in a rushed or hard manner, in a passionate and loving way. 

“my girl officially.” 

Are u dutch(since you said testweek)?

hii anon, yes i am actually lmao i hate it here sm ngl 😔 but are you too?

also i love when you guys interact with me 😚

FINALLY i’m done with my testweek you can’t believe how happy i am rn 😝 anyway i will start writing the requests!!

also i added some more people for who i write for, so after im done with the requests i will open them again and you can request for the new ones (beta squad, jude bellingham, trent alexander arnold)

I have the silliest thought but what if y/n gave Trent a starboy bracelet as a joke since everybody calls him that and she teases him about it 🤭

starboy — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

zowa this is so cute !!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 i changed the concept a little bit but i absolutely loved writing this !!! it doesn’t really have as much teasing as i would like but lets just say they are very much in love!! | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Open it! Open it!”

Trent smiled when he saw you at the couch. “What’s going on?” He gave your forehead a soft peck before taking the little wrapped box from your hands and sat next to you.

He could tell that you could hardly contain your excitement, you were practically bouncing off the couch. “I got you a little surprise!”

Trent narrowed his eyes, taking in your optimistic behaviour suspiciously. He softly chuckled before tearing the wrapper open. Revealing a dainty black box and his suspicions only grew.

“Love, what’s this?”

You rolled your eyes, “Just open it, will ya.” smiling as you encouraged him to open the gift.

Trent opened the box and his eye’s immediately flew open. You started to fidget nervously with your fingers, waiting for his reaction.

Before you knew it you were already rambling, “It’s not much but I think you would like it so I customised one for you and—“

“Oh my god.” Trent breathed out, he carefully took the bracelet out of the box and examined it up close. He was in such awe of the jewellery, and in you, he was almost speechles. “You didn’t have to do this, love.”

You shrugged, “I wanted to.” planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Can you help me put it on?” Trent asked, albeit a little shyly, looking at you as if he was in a daze.

You beamed at him. “Of course.” you gently took the bracelet from his hands, trying to clasp it together.

All while you’re doing this, Trent was boring holes on to the side of your head with his intense gaze. He didn’t let his eyes drop down even when you said you were all done putting it on him.

“All done.”

You smiled at him, feeling your ego swell up when you read the ‘STARBOY’ sign as it shone under the lights. Yeah, you got him that and he’s wearing it and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Trent chuckled, and you hated how he sounded so smug, “Like what?”

You softly smacked his shoulder, “I don’t know. Like I bought you a fucking mansion with six sports cars.” you softly smacked his shoulder

“Feels like it.”

You meet his eyes, brown and wide, comforting and infatuated. “So I take it you like it?”

“I love it sweetheart.” he whispered, fingers trailing the engraved letters.

You giggled, the high pitched kind that you make when your crush finally looks at you and you weren’t shameful in the slightest bit.

“My starboy.” you muttered, dropping your head to his shoulders as your hands rested on top of Trent’s that was already on the bracelet.

He nudged you up, nuzzling his nose with yours before connecting your lips together, “Your starboy.”

reblog for a kiss <3

pairing: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: you had been away on a trip for a few weeks but decided to come home earlier to surprise your boyfriend [wc: 1,8k]

genre(s): established relationship, straight-up fluff

Three weeks. That's how long it's been since you had seen your boyfriend. When you first told him about the trip more than 2 months ago, it wasn't that big of a deal. If anything Trent was urging you to go, saying that you deserved the time off and that he'd be fine by himself. You were reluctant at first, considering that you'd be gone for an entire month and that seemed a bit too much but be wouldn't budge.

"I'll come home a bit earlier I promise. There's seriously no reason for me to be gone for more than two weeks," you said, leaning back on the kitchen counter as you watched Trent rummage through the fridge.

"Just stay the full month baby, I'll be fine." He halted his rummage fest and turned to look at you with his eyebrow quirked and a smile. "Or do you think I'm incapable of being left alone?"

There was a moment of silence that passed to which he let out an amused scoff. "You're joking right?" He took a few steps closer, causing you to tighten your grip on the counter with a suppressed smile but avoiding his gaze at all costs.

You didn't think he was incapable of being left alone. He was a grown man and knew how to handle himself, but there were times when you wondered what was going on inside his head.

He was standing in front of you now, his hand snaking around your waist ever so slowly while the other tilted your chin up to look at him. Of course, he was smiling, he knew the effect he had on you all too well and made sure to use it to his advantage when needed. "Go on the trip, okay?"

"But I'll come bac--"

You were cut off with a quick peck on the lips, and then another on your cheek, and another on your forehead and another on your nose. By now you were a giggling mess, trying your best to find the strength to put some distance in between the two of you but Trent wasn't having it until you finally gave in with a reluctant sigh.

"Yes I win!"

Oh, he won alright because even at the airport when he sent you off he practically had to drag you out of the car and to the boarding gate. You met up with your friends the second you got there but never left your boyfriends side until it was time to go.

"Remember to separate the laundry- red and white should not be together at all baby. We don't want a repeat of last time," you instructed hastily and Trent nodded his head obediently as if he hadn't heard the same lecture over and over on the drive here.

"You know what just take it to the dry cleaner, it's less of a hassle."

"Okay now--"

You cut him off once again, "And make sure that you lock the doors properly, and call Jude if you need anything."

Yep. He was undoubtedly going to miss this.

"What am I saying?" you groaned in complaint and put your palm to your forehead. "Do not call Jude. He should be the last person you call if you need something important."

Trent couldn't help but laugh as he watched you endearingly, and truth be told he could watch you watch paint dry and never get bored. He knew how worried you were to leave him alone, it was the longest you two were going to be apart since you started dating 3 years ago.

So he never minded your little episodes like this whenever either of you had to leave because it was out of love and your genuine fear of him burning the house down. And it took a bit and the death stares from your group of friends to get you out of his embrace.

"Good luck with your matches okay? I'll be watching so don't mess up!" You yelled out to your boyfriend who was a blushing mess when everyone decided to turn their attention on him.

He was just about ready to leave when he saw you enter the gateway, the smile still on his face but the second he turned his back he felt a pair of arms grip around his waist.

"I love you."

"You've been staring at the same picture for the past five minutes."

Trent jolted at the sound of Virgil's voice coming up from behind him. He didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was in fact staring at the same picture you had sent him yesterday. There was no denying that he was going insane.

Sure you called whenever you had the chance and made sure to update each other throughout the day, but obviously it wasn't the same. The first week had been a breeze for Trent, but a little harder for you since it took a bit of time to settle in without his presence but it happened gradually as you got too caught up in your trip.

One week. That's how long Trent lasted, and he still had three more to go before you got back. It felt strange to come home after practice in the evening and not see you lying on the couch with your arms open for a hug, or to see you in the stands during practice with a loving smile on your face.

"Everyone in the tunnel. Let's go."

With the announcement and a pat on the shoulder from Virgil, he let out one last heavy sigh and shook away any disruptive thoughts to move his focus to the match. They were playing Fulham for the Premier League Cup today, right at Anfield which meant that he was counting on this match as a distraction.

You, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the match to be over. The stadium was booming with noise from the fans the second you entered and quietly made your way to the friends and family booth without any of the team members noticing.

"Are you serious? What are you doing here?" Virgil's wife, Rike gasped when you slid in next to her. She hurriedly pulled you into a hug and laughed in disbelief.

"I got a little homesick," you answered breathily and Rike couldn't help but give a knowing hum.

She took your hand into hers with a smile and faced the front, her eyes trailing on her husband as everyone did their warmups. "Well, you were missed just as much. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen Trent this down. I wouldn't be surprised if he cried himself to sleep."

You couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter at her last retort, knowing full well that he slept on your side of the bed just to feel somewhat closer to you. But hey, you couldn't judge him, you did the exact same thing when he was gone.

It wasn't long before the match started that you were once again fully immersed in it. Whenever you went to any of their matches you would wonder how Rike put up with your endless screaming and complaining.

"Klopp might have to sign you as manager after he retires," the older woman chuckled to herself as she watched you jump from your seat during Trent's penalty that was nothing short from perfection even though it was technically an own goal.

By halftime, Fulham was in the lead, 3-2 and you could practically feel the boys' stress radiating from the field. Rike stayed with you during half-time since you couldn't see Trent just yet, no matter how desperate you were but she did a good job at keeping you distracted.

If there was one thing you noticed, however, it was that Trent didn't bother looking up at the box once the entire game which he always did when you came to watch them play. Which for sure meant that he had no idea you were here but you were glad that his mood was lifted after he took the penalty.

It was the last 3 minutes of the game and it was tied 3-3, and you were on the edge of your seat. You were so stressed out that you had to take off your jacket even though it was anything but warm in the stadium.

You watched eagerly as the ball was passed back from the goalie, back to Darwin, all the way to Mac who finally passed it to Trent, who successfully gave Liverpool their finisher for the evening. You and Rike were beyond ecstatic and probably looked like lunatics to everyone else in the booth but that didn't matter.

When you heard the whistle blow after the additional time was over you didn't waste a second and immediately sprinted down, out the tunnel and to the field. Your brain was for sure on autopilot mode because you couldn't recall anything besides your feet carrying you to the exit.

You halted in your tracks for a moment when you felt the crisp air hit your arms, but you didn't care and needed nothing more than your boyfriend. For a split second, you made eye contact with Dom but you gave him a look and he immediately shut his mouth that was nothing short of a smile.

You took one last deep breath and somehow wove your way through the crowd to end up where Trent was talking to a member of the other team. You took your time and patiently waited behind your boyfriend until he was gone to tap his shoulder.

Trent turned around, of course, his lips pursed and his face flushed red due to the adrenaline rush. It took a moment for him to register the fact that it was actually you and not someone playing tricks on him but the second you opened up your arms he was at a loss for words.

"Are you just going to stare at me or-- ah!"

The latter. Definitely the latter.

Before you knew it, you were engulfed in one of the tightest hugs you've ever experienced. You couldn't help but melt at the familiar feeling of being in Trent's embrace, knowing that you missed it way more than you originally thought.

Trent pulled away from the hug to get a better look at you, completely disregarding the screams from the fans as well as the cameras that were going off. He didn't care because all he saw was you. All he wanted was you.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were only coming back next week," he said exasperated and put his hands on your bare arms.

You gave him a simple shrug in response. "Why would I want to see the Eiffel Tower for another week when I could come home and be with you instead?"

That was enough to bring a cheeky smile to Trent's face, "It was that boring huh?" He took your hand into his and led you into the tunnel where everyone else was.

His eyes wandered adoringly over your features, taking the time to fully let your presence sink in. He didn't admit it but he for sure was not going to let you leave him for more than a week from now on. If you wanted to go on a trip then he'd be more than happy to tag along, but no way was he going to suffer again.

"Did you take my Jersey with you?" His question made you look down at the red Liverpool Jersey you were wearing, his number flaunted at the back.

"What? Just because I was watching your matches from a hotel room does not mean that I'm not gonna dress accordingly babe."

Trent gave your hand a light squeeze. "Oh I love a supportive girlfriend."

You lightly scoffed and turned your head to the front, where you saw Curtis and Ibou making fun of Harvey, probably about his height judging by the way they were pretending not to see him.

"I know you called Jude."

Trent's eyes widened a fraction, "It wasn't for anything serious!"

NYE Kiss | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: At Trent's New Year's Eve party, he confesses to the reader, his childhood bestfriend, that he's lonely.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, angst, miscommuncation, childhood friends, kiss

Note: Happy New Year!

With twenty minutes left until the clock struck midnight, Trent’s brothers, Tyler and Marcel were already setting off fireworks. A couple of Trent’s teammates were also in attendance, and some of the friends you and he shared, but there were still a few valuable ones missing.

Despite Liverpool playing a match the next day, Trent still wanted to do something for New Year's Eve, even if it was a bit risky. But he promised Virgil he would kick everyone out by one in the morning so that they had time to be well-rested for the match, luckily it wasn’t a noon match. Even though he had his brothers, parents, and best mates surrounding him, the night still felt—empty. A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he took a swig of his drink, searching for a solution to his ache.

Trent makes his way over to you, a brown bottle pinched between his fingertips. It’s too dark for you to notice if he’s looking at you, but the pause in his step once his eyes land on you gives you everything you need to know. He stops at the pillar of the canopy, face lighting up with the blast of a firework, “Did the fireworks get too much for you already?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head, “No. I just keep having the recurring thought of one of the ashes falling on my hair and it going up in flames.”

The corner of his lip barely tugged up, “That’s quite an image.”

“It’s very rational,” you defend, tugging the sleeve of your knitted sweater over your hands. Trent was dressed way more casual than you, a black pair of sweatpants and a dark gray hoodie. Had you known him and his brothers would dress like that, then maybe you wouldn’t have nearly lost a finger trying to put yourself into your tight jeans tonight.

A beat of silence washes between the two of you as he decides to stay quiet. He wasn’t usually this quiet when the two of you were with his family, but when he was, he was thinking. So in his head that everything else was irrelevant. It could be a battle trying to ground him back to the present sometimes.

“So, how are you?” you break the silence, sparing a weary glance at him.

“Lonely,” he mumbles. He stays facing the alleyway of Tyler’s home where they light another firework and then scramble away from it.

“Lonely at the top,” you sing, referencing his team’s position at the top of the table. Trent gives you a hard look immediately and you quiet down, averting your eyes from his. “Sorry.” There’s a heavy plate of tension that fills the air between the two of you and despite you both being outside, it feels suffocating. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs, “Everyone is moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone moved, I feel like I’m the only one who stayed,” he says. His voice is soft but aloof, still not giving you a glance. “I just thought you would stay. Was a slap in the face to see that your house was for sale.”

It was your parent’s house, the one you grew up in. You lived on the same street where Trent grew up, only three houses separating your families. After riding your bike down the street and dramatically tripping over the rock that you saw at the last minute, Trent came running out of his house and helped you up. Him and his brothers were playing football in the street, the three of them had just gone inside, but he noticed your sparkling pink bike and got distracted looking back at you. Once he realized a kiss to your scarred knee wasn’t going to make the bleeding stop, he called out for his mom and the three of you walked you and your bike back to that house after she cleaned your knee. Trent had stayed by your side the entire time, assuring you that your knee would be okay in the next couple of days.

The sound of a firework exploding shutters you out of the past, forcing yourself to look at a sullen Trent. His bottom lip is tucked through his teeth as his eyes follow the firework’s path. 

“Trent, can you look at me?” Trent slowly looks in your direction and his eyes seem more hurt than he lets on. Much different than the bright eyes that welcomed you two hours ago. You swallow, “Did you think we would live here forever? I mean Jude, Alana, Kai….” You list off the friends and neighbors you both shared who had since then moved away. 

He shakes his head, “Obviously not, but you could’ve told me you were moving.”

“I know, we’ve just both been so busy. We barely put up the house for sale a couple of days ago.”

Trent blinks his eyes a couple of times and doesn’t speak immediately.

“I am lonely though,” he confesses and it stabs you right in the heart. “The season has felt really long, haven’t seen you or the lads that much. I know you go to some of my games, but we don’t speak afterward, and I miss you. I miss having people around that aren’t my family.”

“Trent,” you sigh. “I’m sorry for not being there.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve tried to be there for you either.”

“Trent—”

He cuts you off, “I haven’t had much time either but I dunno…the time I do have at home, it’s so quiet. I’ve been staying at my parents house actually, for the past couple of days because I’ve been sick of the silence. Sure, I could’ve walked to your house but I never did…”

He swallows another swig of his drink, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to leave. And after chewing on the inside of his cheek for so long, he also tasted copper. He couldn’t blame you for being busy. He knew you had just landed the job you had been working so hard for, at a company that treated you well and respected your work, and with the way Liverpool’s hectic season has been going, he didn’t have much time off either.

You're left with your thoughts screaming at you to say something, but what could you say that would heal his loneliness? That you two could schedule a meet up soon? But it wasn’t concrete, ‘soon’ could be tomorrow, could be a week or before the month ended.

“We should hang out sometime,” you decide. “I’ve missed you too. My schedule is clear for whenever, just let me know.”

He downs the rest of his drink, before tossing it in the bin that Tyler usually has next to the side of the canopy but it’s not there. The bottle goes crashing to the ground but doesn’t break, it rolls off some steps away from him and he ignores it.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, eyebrows raised. You knew he shouldn’t have been drinking the day before his game, even if it was New Year’s Eve.

Trent looks back at you, a tsk leaves his lips, “I’ve only had one.”

“One case?”

“Funny,” he grits, any humor in his tone is gone. “I’m being honest.”

You cross your arms, not realizing you pointing out him drinking would upset him. Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t want to be caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but Trent had been acting out of character the moment he admitted his loneliness. He was never one to talk about his feelings, always shoving it somewhere down deep that you had given up trying to pry out of him a long time ago because it always upset him more than helped.

“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you demand.

He looks away but you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he glances down to the pavement. The door to the house suddenly bursts open behind you, his mother weaving through you both as if you aren’t standing there.

“Fifteen minutes until midnight!” She announces, and then marches back inside but stops once she notices the two of you, “Oh, you two look so cute. Please, you both can stay in the upstairs bedroom if you get too tired to drive home. I’m sure Tyler won’t mind.”

Her presence seems to break off the tension because Trent lets out a low chuckle, “You know, she always thought it’d be us.”

“Us…what?” You bite the annoyance of him switching the topic away.

“It’d be us,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “That we’d be married and have a kid by now.”

Your eyes bulge at his words. He had to be drunk.

His voice rumbles as he kicks an imaginary rock, “What? Does the idea of starting a family with me repulse you that much?”

“No,” you shake your head frantically, hoping you didn't make him feel more bad than what he was already feeling. If Trent was going to be vulnerable for the last fifteen minutes of the year, then fine, you weren’t going to be petty and let your own feelings get in the way of him being open. You choose your words carefully, “I just—” Screw sparing his feelings. “You’re drunk.”

He rolls his eyes, words spitting out of his mouth in irritation, “It was one drink. One drink does nothing to me other than make me honest. Even then, it wasn’t a high percentage of alcohol.”

Your eyes dance between his dark brown ones. They seem more watery than before, the glow of the light from the inside of the house and fireworks glaring off of them. You look away briefly, “Honest? Like I can ask you any question and you’ll tell the truth?”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I don’t need a drink in me to be honest. I’m always honest to you.”

“That’s a lie,” you remark. “You lied to me when you said I could take your car for a drive.”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s because I value my life.”

You huff, “You didn’t have to be in the car with me, but fine, whatever.” You needed to control any impulsive comment you had. Trent was opening up, this was unchartered territory, and maybe he needed a clean conscience for the New Year more than you did. “I wasn’t repulsed by the idea of starting a family with you, I was just shocked to hear you say that.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you to hear him utter those words. Sure, the two of you shared your first kiss together and took each other’s virginities on the night of your twentieth birthday, but the two of you were never anything more. Never went on a date, never received flowers from him—minus the single daisy he plucked out of the grass one day as an apology for leaving the rock in the middle of the sidewalk—but nothing the two of you did was glaringly romantic. He held your hand for a total of two minutes and fifteen seconds one day underneath the table at a shared family dinner, but nothing came of it either.

He was off focusing on the academy, while you were busy studying in school. Once he did make his first team debut, you were in the stands cheering him on. He felt like the happiest man—boy—that day, having both of your families witness his debut. But still, the bone-crushing hug he pulled you into after you all met in the car park, it meant—nothing.

Even the night you lost your virginity, him as well, it was haste. He was in your bedroom, flipping through the birthday cards you received when you confessed to him that it was comical being a virgin at twenty, feeling the weight of society’s judgment on your shoulders for whatever reason, while he didn’t laugh at all. The liquor you both were sipping on gave you both the courage as you went on, sneakily closing your bedroom door and turning a page. After the both of you came down from your high, he cuddled you for an hour before slipping out of your bedroom window and going home.

Nothing was ever really mentioned after that, the both of you deciding it was best to scrape it under the rug so that it wasn’t awkward at combined family dinners, but there was a feeling. A tingling feeling that made your voice hitch whenever he looked at you or texted you. Any visit you made from uni, your heart did flips when he pulled you into a hug and welcomed you home for that weekend.

He snorts, making your eyes dart to him, “We’re being honest, yeah?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you say.

He nods, “Okay, I believe you.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and he sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Can I ask you another question?” you mumble and he nods. “Why did your mom think that?”

Trent shrugs for the hundredth time that night, leaning against the pillar as his head rests against it, “Because I told her that I liked you. She said to go for it, I told her I would, but I never did.”

Oh.

Oh.

“When was this?” you muster up the courage and power to ask, feeling breathless.

He blows a raspberry, “Maybe ten years ago?”

You're glad that Marcel misfires a firework that goes flying towards a tree to the left of the house, earning a commotion from Trent’s family and teammates, so that you have time to wipe off the shock before Trent looks at you.

Trent looks at the tree and holds his breath, hoping it erupts into flames. Perhaps he needed a break in the conversation as well. He felt exposed, too vulnerable at the expense of your curiosity and even though he said he would be honest, he wasn’t sure how much more truth he could give out when you weren’t exchanging much back.

“Why are you leaving?” he blurts out.

“You know I don’t live there right?” your eyebrow rises. Surely you told him you moved. “I moved out when I was twenty-two. I live almost ten minutes away, but my parents are moving because they need the money. After I left, they started spending on stuff that they shouldn’t have, putting us into a lot more debt than we should be. So, I say ‘we’ decided to sell because the only reason they were keeping the house was for me. For what it represented.”

Your childhood. A part of you was heartbroken for what it meant, but the other part of you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew it would serve you and your family well.

Trent eyebrows furrow, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would’ve wanted to help.”

Trent averts his gaze, “I can. I can buy it.”

“Trent,” you gawk. “Seriously, I’m going to accuse you of being drunk again—”

“It’s your childhood home.”

“Yeah, and I made a choice. It was my choice to make.”

His shoulders deflate, “So you did want to leave?”

You nod, “It was time for a change. They lived there for the past twenty years. A home isn’t a single house anyway.”

“Do they have a place for after it sells?”

The quick glance at the floor reveals the almost lie you would’ve told him, but the two of you agreed to be honest, so you shake your head, “No. They haven’t left the house entirely. They still live there and whatever they make from the sale, they’ll use it to purchase their next.”

“I can buy it,” he states again and you shake your head.

“Trent, you aren’t going to buy my childhood home, drop it,” you spit, voice unwavering as he looks back at you. His jaw is clenched.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But if you have any doubts, I can buy it. I’ll give them whatever double the asking price is—”

“Trent.” You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, he’d most likely ask your parents first thing tomorrow and you didn’t even want to think about what their response would be.

He sighs, “Okay.”

Instead of letting the conversation simmer into silence, you take a deep breath and ask him another question. Here goes nothing: “Why didn’t you ever pursue your feelings?”

Trent rotates his body towards yours, leaning against the column with his shoulder. His hands are still stuffed into the pockets of his sweats. “I was fifteen, I was scared.”

At fifteen, the two of you would’ve already shared your first kiss and held hands underneath the table. You were so giddy, but you weren’t sure if you were giddy at the idea of getting caught or because you had a crush on Trent. The two of you spent so much time growing up together, playing footy, exploring the neighborhood, everything. Tyler would often tag along, and then Marcel as well once he got older, but still you knew you were closer to Trent more.

“And they’ve just gone away?” you ask without a second thought. Your heart lurches as he looks away. What a stupid thing to say!

He coughs, clearing out his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks down at the hem of your sweater, “Would my mother still be trying to play matchmaker if not?”

A squeezing feeling encompasses your chest that you wince. The shock was gone, you were upset now. It had been ten years, you could excuse the first five years because they were hectic with you at uni and him training, but the both of you had sex knowing the feelings were there.

Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t have feelings for Trent, they were always still going to be there. He was the first boy you were really exposed to. The boy you followed throughout the neighborhood despite not knowing anything about him. You wanted to be brave and follow him into the woods. Doing all sorts of things you would’ve never done had he not been by your side. The sweet boy who kissed your knee in hopes of getting you to stop crying held your heart the moment he ran to you.

He watches the way your eyes dart from the fireworks to his family members cheering as they drink a champagne flute. The crease in your eyebrow and nose, he knew you were in deep thought. On a night of too many truths, he was exhausted.

“Just say it,” he whispers. “We’re being honest.”

“You watched me,” you start, voice trembling but teeth grinding, “you watched me get my heartbroken not once, but twice. Gave me all this advice on boys, broke my heart in the process because I thought you didn’t like me back, and then I went on to have two relationships where they were both shit. And you just watched? Knowing you felt something?”

Trent can’t stand to hear the shake in your voice, it itching his ear in a way that makes him tilt his head away from you.

You continue, “I liked you too, a lot. So much that I would sometimes scare myself because I would see my exes as you, even though sometimes it would be months since we last talked. You were always on my mind, and had you said something earlier, all of it,” you wave your arms around to symbolize the time and heartache lapsed. “All of it could’ve been avoided.”

Trent glances down, “I was a coward.”

“No shit,” you yell. Trent abruptly looks at the crowd of people and hopes you don’t catch their attention.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says, truthfully. “I wasn’t ready to give you my all if we had gotten together. I was still finding my footing on the team, all of my focus was on that and wouldn’t have been on you if we were together. Okay,” he relents, “maybe I could’ve spared your heartache had you known, but it just—it wasn’t worth all the drama—”

“Drama?”

He shuts his eyes closed. Think! “It wouldn’t have been worth you getting hurt because I had training. Or I had a game and had to miss something important of yours. I would’ve been physically there but not emotionally present—”

“Do you think I would’ve cared, Trent?” you gape.

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t, and that’s the problem. You wouldn’t have deserved that. You wouldn’t have deserved me not being present, it would’ve driven us both away. The only times I saw my family were because they came to my game and I met them at their suite. That would’ve been the only time you and I interacted, do you seriously think you would’ve been okay with that?”

No. But you would’ve been content knowing he felt the same. The small moments you saw him would’ve made up for any multi-hour-long day spent with him.

“Like you needed to find yourself at uni and focus on what you were passionate about, I did too,” he says. His voice is much softer and less urgent, knowing that you were understanding and on the same page as him. “But I’m ready now. I’m not saying you have to be ready right now—or maybe you won’t ever be because you don’t have the same feelings you once had—but, I’m here now. I’m as present as I’ll ever be. The season started off fast and will continue to be difficult, but I’ve learned how to be present at home. How to not focus on football and be with my family and pets during my spare time.”

On cue, the rest of Trent’s family—and yours—burst through the back door. There are only a couple of minutes until midnight, those fifteen minutes blew right past the both of you. Tyler and Marcel had stopped popping fireworks as they compiled a bunch together to be ignited exactly at twelve.

Trent looks at you, pulling your hand so that you’re closer to him near the pillar as your family members stampede outside, settling in lawn chairs and anywhere on the floor. Trent hasn’t dropped your hand yet. He caresses the backside of your hand with his thumb as his fingers squeeze tighter around yours.

“I know I was a coward, I know I could’ve said it anytime you were around, but it was never the right time,” he whispers in your ear. “We were busy, our lives never aligned perfectly, and maybe they don’t align right now either, but I’m willing to take the risk.”

A breathy sigh escapes you as you soak in his words. You close your eyes as you lean the side of your head against his chest. You needed to be grounded as you thought, and he was always someone stable. His hands don’t wrap you into a hug because he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“I still like you,” you acknowledge. “I’m a little upset you kept this a secret.” He snorts. “But, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure when I would’ve bursted and confessed the same thing. I wanted to tell you that we were moving, especially whenever we were thinking about it when it was first brought up, but I stopped myself. I was scared, because I knew my first instinct to reach out to you meant that it was something more, that I saw you as someone more than just my friend. That I always have. Every failed relationship was a reminder of it.”

Trent chuckles, finally being able to breathe. The tightening feeling in his chest had dissipated, replaced with jittery nerves as he restrained himself from pulling you into a hug.

You drop Trent’s hand and face him. If he was confused, he hid it well.

“I’m willing to take the risk too,” you state, the heavy weight on your shoulders dissolving. “I’m trusting you, just like I trusted you the day I followed you into the woods.”

“We ended up getting lost,” he recalls. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep his hands off of you.

“I know,” you smile. “But I trusted you still, despite being so scared. I knew you would keep your promise and get us out of there before the moon rose. I’m willing to get lost with you, wherever you are, I want to be there.”

“You trust me?” he cheeses, his lips breaking out further into a grin. A chorus of a ten-second countdown breaks out in the background.

“Of course, stupid,” you smack his bicep and the brief contact makes the both of you hold a breath.

Trent knew he couldn’t get the smile off of his face no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t expect to have this conversation with you tonight, but after seeing you underneath the canopy, your clothes and figure lighting up from the colorful lights of the fireworks, he knew he couldn’t let you walk away from him again. You didn’t even hold his heart in the palm of your hands, you held it in your gaze. One look at him from you and he was floored, a weak and desperate man on his knees begging for your attention.

“…three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

Your blissful eyes combined with his gleeful ones don’t look away as you both lean closer. Your hands stay tucked by your side, his suddenly not wanting to move either as he leans down. The moment your nose grazes his, you close your eyes and let him kiss you. You press your lips further into his as the sound of fireworks go off behind you.

The kiss feels like the first one you shared together, tentative but passionate. It feels like a new promise, one full of commitment for the year to come. A promise from him that he’ll be there for every second of the day, and you a promise to be present as well. To not make him feel like he needs to bottle up his emotions and wait until the last minute to confess them.

His hands find your cheeks at the same time you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls away and sighs against your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you smile, pecking his lips one more time before burying your head into his chest. He pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing your shoulders tightly against him and then resting his head on top of yours.

Instead of letting you close your eyes to soak in the feelings of him being this close in your arms, he shuffles the both of you and points up, “Look up.”

His careful gaze looks down at you as he double checks that you’re actually looking up at the fireworks, but he bursts into a nervous laugh when he sees you looking back at him. You can feel his heart quicken its pace as he stutters, “No, not me. The sky!”

“You’re so happy,” you whisper. Earlier his eyes were on the verge of breaking down, but now, they seem so full of light and hope.

“Yeah,” he slips his hand back around your waist. “I got the girl of my dreams in my arms, my girl.” He enunciates the last two words like they’re a testimony.

Your cheeks rush with heat that you’re glad he can’t feel them. He leaves a chaste kiss on your temple before looking back up at the fireworks. And then he glances down suddenly, “Do you remember when we made that fort in my living room?”

You burst into a laugh, pulling away from his chest, “What?”

“The fort,” he repeats, “it ended up crumbling because Marcel rolled too far and pulled the blankets down—you remember?”

You nod, bewildered by his sudden excitement.

“Well, the spare bedroom of Tyler’s only has a mattress on the floor, but there are some chairs and sofas we can combine to you know,” he lets his voice fade away.

“You have a game tomorrow, maybe you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“It’s a new mattress! That’s why it has nothing else,” he laughs. His laugh is intoxicating that all your logic and usual bickering dies out. He could build the fort, you’d be right there helping him either way.

Your heart swells as his eyes go wide, his face glowing red. He taps your waist, “Look, look look.”

The red firework that just popped erupts into the shape of a heart. You smile, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. To think you’ve been missing this for the past twenty years that you’ve known him. What a fool the both of you were.

That night, Trent holds his promise as you help him build the fort around the mattress. You steal a lantern from Tyler’s shed outside while Trent found blankets to use and old moving boxes. It isn’t an exact replica like the two of you first shared, but it’s quite close, only this time you two are wrapped in each other’s arms.

i’m so sorry for not writing everyone’s requests yet 😞😞 i have been so busy with school and im in the middle of my test week rn but as soon as im done i will start writing all of your amazing requests 😚 also i am going to start writing for beta squad as soon as i finish the requests

it's enough to be young and in love ౨ৎ trent alexander-arnold

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader

word count: 341

notes: not proof read 🤓 just a quick short blurb about trent at 1:30am before my eyes completely shut

trent doesn't say a word as he listens to you hum along to 'love' by lana del rey while you get ready. he's sat on the far side of your shared bed, scrolling on his phone, occasionally looking up to see how you're fairing.

"do you think we'd have been together when we were young?"

while he doesn't think he's a youngster on the pitch anymore, he definitely feels boyish by your side. his eyes watching carefully as you lift the hem of your shirt over your head, discarding it in favour of his hoodie. he feels like he's a teenage boy again when she sees you begin to take your pants off, immediately averting his eyes in case he flushes a rosy colour watching you undress.

"trent?" you ask, his eyes darting back to you, this time with pants on again.

he can feel the corners of his mouth rising, his toothy grin in full display. he climbs across the bed towards you, sitting upright on the side of the bed near you before he wraps his arms around the middle of your thighs. pulling you close as he presses a kiss against your clothed midsection before he rests his head against it as he hums out:

"aren't we young and in love now?"

the heat from his arms radiating throughout your entire body from your thighs, making you look down to see the top of his head. although this is not necessarily the typical view that you have of trent, you are delighted all the same. reaching your hand up to play with his hair before your fingers delicately find their way underneath his chin, tapping lightly. you're sure that there are millions of other people out there that are young and in love, but you're not sure anyone has or will ever feel the way you feel about trent.

you don't say anything as you lower yourself just enough to pepper kisses on his ears, making him squirm as he tries to avoid being tickled by your kisses.

we need more niko x reader. in general beta squad x reader !! im craving it

it rains, it pours | finnick odair x f!reader

pairing: finnick odair x f!district 4 reader

summary: finnick consoles you after being trapped in the blood rain. based on this request.

warnings/tags: angst. fluff. general hunger games violence/lore. depictions of fear and anxiety. mentions of blood, murder, and death. annie doesn’t exist and mags was not reaped. some mutual pining. no description of body type, age, or race.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing finnick, & while i’m incredibly excited to add him to my repertoire, i’m also terrified lmao. it’s very short, so expect longer stories in the future. please be kind & patient with me while i learn my method of his characterization! any & all constructive feedback is always welcome.

You thought some of it may have seeped into your lungs.

Water. Just get to the water.

It didn’t matter that you had done this all before: suffered, fought, killed. The Capitol kept finding ways to surprise you. To terrify you. A cruel, never-ending cycle.

You were vaguely aware of the shouting voices that picked up once your blood-soaked group reached the beach. Most of them were drowned out by Johanna’s shrill expletives, or Wiress and her incessant tick-tock’s. But through it, you hazily made out the sound of your name being called. Repeated and strained as it echoed over the water you were frantically moving towards.

It was all your body knew how to do.

Keep moving.

Keep fighting.

You made it waist deep into the water, numbly unaware of the way your limbs were trembling and your breaths were heaving, before the source of your name calling was splashing in after you.

Closer, it was getting closer. It reached for you, grabbed at your sticky biceps, and attempted to shake you back to reality. It was in front of you, eyes still hazed with crimson, unable to decipher what exactly it was. Who it was.

But there was a familiarity in how they called your name, desperate now.

“Look at me. Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

It was the first time he had spoken to you since the reaping. Even with the knowledge of Plutarch’s plan seeded in you both, there was a lingering rule between you: you simply didn’t speak anymore. Not since the blonde haired boy you knew so well stepped into that arena for the first time ten years ago, and came out a different person.

In fact, before the reaping — where he commanded you through gritted teeth and whispers to stay alive, no other information to follow — you weren’t even sure you could pinpoint the last time you had spoken to Finnick Odair.

Childhood friend turned victor.

Hopeful victor turned a shell of himself, his body no longer his own, sharp mind in constant torment under Snow’s ministrations.

Tormented man who abandoned home, abandoned you, even when it came time for your first sacrifice to the games.

You may as well have been strangers. And yet, no one in that arena, in all of Panem, knew you as well as he did. Not even the passage of lost time could change that fact. A lifetime of memories reduced to a singular moment.

“It just—it came out of nowhere.” You didn’t recognize your voice, nor the bloody reflection of yourself in the water.

How much more were you expected to endure before there was nothing left of you? Scattered pieces of the Capitol’s puzzle broadcasted for the entire country to consume, but never for you to discover again. Lost to the games.

“I know. I know, but you’re out. You’re safe. I need you to stay with me,” Finnick consoled, a rushed whisper. He meant stay lucid, of course. Don’t lose yourself, not yet. Not when we’re so close.

You thought he must have known every idea coursing through your head: where did it come from? Whose is it? When would it come again?

His firm hold on your arms was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you sane. You allowed his words to soak into your skin, praying they would reach deeper than blood. To the bone. To your core, where you knew a cause greater than yourself was just beyond your fingertips. You blinked once. Twice. Forcing the haze out of your vision, and finally, seeing him clearly.

Sea-green eyes blown wide under furrowed brows. Golden curls matted with sweat and dirt. Precious lips, plush and full, downturned. Familiar. Safe. You felt your throat begin to burn with rising tears.

“Get it off,” you croaked, eager to push forward. “Please just – just help me get it off.”

He didn’t think twice, ushering you further into the water until it hit your chest. He stood at your rear, instructing you calmly to tilt your head back until it reached your hairline, and you complied. Never doubting for a moment he would catch you if you fell.

He placed one hand at your waist; stable, although tentative. The other began to work tenderly through your knotted hair, tainting the cerulean water around you with the evidence of rain. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, focusing on your breath, and the soothing touch of his fingers against your scalp.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, a futile attempt to shield you from the cameras that were undoubtedly pointed your way. He must have heard the way you were struggling to keep your breath from sputtering through your nostrils. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

“I’m trying,” you whimpered, eyes still shut. His fingers worked around your ears now, over your forehead, careful not to pour any over your mouth and nose. You focused on that; the tactile cue of someone who wanted to help you, who cared about you.

“I know,” he asserted. “And you’re gonna keep trying. Hold your breath—”

You obeyed, taking in a deep gulp of air and letting the weight of your skull fall into his palm. He lowered you into the water at your set pace, and for a moment, the world was quiet. Still.

You could pretend you were back in four, on your own shoreline, familiar grains of sand, and the sound of children's laughter. That the man cradling you below the water was once just a boy and you a girl. And maybe, just maybe as time went on, and the boy became a man and you a woman, the affliction of admiration could be acted on. Perhaps it would even be reciprocated, wanted. A life, no matter how tedious and meaningless to those with more money and power, could continue in isolated bliss. Where there were no sacrifices. No torments.

No games.

You shot up from the water with a gasp, frantically wiping the droplets from your eyes, and turning to face the man behind you. Finnick stood as he had before, shrouded in concern, eyes searching you as if he was looking for the next bit on the verge of breaking. There was no discernment or contempt. He wasn’t running from you or avoiding you. He was there. Alive and breathing. And suddenly, years of resentment faded with the realization that, nowadays, people had so little.

But you still had him.

You heard the momentary breath of surprise evade him when you lurched forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into his neck. A beat, and then, he flushed your chest against him, hugging you around the waist. A bit more snug than he ever had before. The water made it easy, keeping your bodies afloat while you clung to one another, a singular solace in a hellish cage. When you closed your eyes then, you could feel that fantasy come to life. And for just a moment longer, you indulged in it.

“Please don’t leave me,” you muttered into his skin, voice trembling and arms squeezing him closer. “I can’t do this alone.”

Finnick shook his head earnestly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, and you believed him. He pulled back then, only enough to find your eyes, a similar urgency in his. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to yours. You let him. “We finish this together, alright?”

You felt the weight the size of the world fall off your chest, a forgotten feeling taking its place.

Hope.

“Together.”

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Ahhhhh hunger games !!!! If you'd like, could you do something with finnici where r was in the blood rain and reunites with the group. r is super out of it and shaken up from it and finnick helps them clean off the blood? I'm envisioning the vibes of how katniss helped wiress if that makes sense. thanks!!!

here it is tysm for the request anon i hope you like it 💝

˗ˏˋ finnick odair ´ˎ˗

“good thing we’re allies, right?”

fics/one shots

slut!

in which finnick takes care of you after you survive a blood rain. aka finnick being an absolute gentleman ;)

safe and sound

in which finnick shows up at your doorstep and vents his heart out.

new romantics

celebrating the anniversary of getting rid of the hunger games with your found family with a surprise for them in store as well.

evermore

even in the dark times, even when the pain seemed to be for evermore, the thought of you made that all go away.

blurbs

headcannons

slut!

“in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.”

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: in which finnick takes care of you after you survive a blood rain. aka finnick being an absolute gentleman ;)

warnings: idrk maybe thoughts of not surviving, fluff, lmk if i should add more, non-edited

requested!

a/n: this sucks i’m so sorry anon but i loved your request and hope you like how i brought your idea to life 🩵 also i listened to slut! on repeat when writing this so that’s why i associated it with that song 😝

MILLIONS of thoughts raced through your head, as you tried to walk as carefully and quietly as you could. You couldn’t believe you lost your allies - which included one of your closest friends - within the first few hours. Your chances of survival plummeted, and you hated yourself for foolishly wandering off.

The jungle was silent, apart from the birds chirping occasionally, and normally it would bring you comfort. But now, as you were reliving the same nightmare you had a few years ago, it wasn’t much of a comfort at all. Usually, the jungle and the water would be your number one place to escape to. To ease your mind. But now, walking around in the jungle meant life or death.

Something fell on your shoulder, making you stop in your tracks. You looked up at the sky, but saw nothing strange or unfamiliar. You scanned the trees thoroughly just to be sure no one was hanging in there, before slowly and cautiously continuing your journey. But then you felt something drop on your face. You wiped it away with your index finger and looked at it, red substance staining your finger.

With furrowed eyebrows, you inspected it—resembling blood.

You looked up at the sky, confused as to where this might come from. But before you could even register what was happening, the red substance started pouring from the sky.

Your vision was entirely blurred because of the substance you assumed was blood, and there was nothing you could do. All you could think about was Finnick, who you had grown feelings for during the years you had known him. The thought of him was the only thing making the situation look less unpleasant than it was.

You were close to giving up, when you heard a scream of your name. Even though you could hardly see, you moved from your place, looking around. Another scream of your name and you followed it, screaming for Finnick, whose voice you had recognised.

Warmth filled your heart. There it was again, that little hope Finnick always gave no matter the situation.

You got closer, his voice getting louder every time he called for you, “Finnick?!” But it was like he couldn’t hear you. You got so close, you were sure you were close enough for him to hear you. But when you wanted to take another step, there was this force withholding you from doing so. You put your hand on the force as it was still pouring and fear took over you once again.

But that was when you saw Finnick, looking around worriedly, his trident in his hand. You yelled for his name, banging against the force, a cry for help escaping your lips. And when Finnick spotted you, his face relaxed at the sight of you. He ran over without a doubt, but ran straight into the force. Finnick fell backwards to the ground, and all you could do was watch him get up with confusion. It seemed to hit him now that blood was pouring on you like there was no tomorrow.

You could see him say something, but you couldn’t hear him anymore. A tear fell down your cheek, but it was almost unnoticeable because of the blood pouring from the sky. But Finnick noticed everything you did and didn’t do, and he put his hand on the force. “You will be okay.” He said, trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you.

Even when you didn’t hear him, you knew exactly what he was saying and you nodded. You rested your forehead on the force, as he followed your action. With your foreheads almost leaning against each other, you waited until it all was over. It killed you how you couldn’t touch him right now. He was so close, yet so far away.

And when you thought it would never end, the one thing that separated you from Finnick, and the rain, disappeared. Before you knew it, you had fallen into his arms, and he was holding you as tight as he could. “I thought I had lost you.” The tremble in his voice made a lump form in your throat. You tightened the hug, never ever wanting to let go of him.

Soon enough, Peeta and Katniss came running. While panting heavily, they released a sigh of relief, glad to see you were okay. “Finally found you.” Katniss spoke. She rested her hand on her hip, as she gave you a small smile, glad you were okay.

After giving you time to recover - which you actually didn’t at all - you and your allies headed to the beach. During your entire walk back, Finnick never let you go. One hand always lingered on the small of your back, as the other held your hand tightly. Even when you had made it to the beach, his fingers were intertwined with yours. And if you had to be honest, you enjoyed it more than you initially thought you would.

The first thing you did when you stepped foot on the sand was collapsing onto it, obviously still shaken up about what had happened. Finnick sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulled you even closer to him. “It’s okay.”

You nodded at his words, before resting you head on his shoulder with a sigh you were holding in for too long. The two of you sat in silence for a while, your fingers intertwined as they rested in your lap, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, but the thought of everything going on right now, gave a whole different meaning to the feeling in your stomach. You almost forgot you were in an arena again, and when the realisation hit you, anxiety washed over you.

Finnick seemed to notice this, just like he always did, and he softly whispered your name.

But you ignored him, lost in thought as the breaths you took were heavier than usual. “Hey,” He gently took ahold of your chin, making you look at him softly, “You’re okay.”

The green in his eyes reminded you of the sea, and if it meant looking at them all day, you wouldn’t mind drowning. The hand holding yours, brought your hand up to his lips. You watched with a racing heart as he lovingly kissed your knuckles one for one, holding eye-contact with you through all of it. Peeta and Katniss, who were watching you two from afar, shared a look.

You took in a sharp breath, before telling Finnick, “I should probably clean myself up.” The man in front of you nodded, and got up swiftly. He offered his hand to help you get up.

With his hand in yours, he led you to the water until it was at the height of your legs. Finnick grabbed a bit of water with the palm of his hand and started washing your arm. He removed every single trace of blood on your body, and you closed your eyes as he did so.

At some point you had sat down, your legs crossed over each other as the water reached the height of your neck. Fish boy - as you liked to call him - washed your hair as if he had done it a million times before. He massaged your head in the process, making you relax under his touch. He was gentle with everything he did, as if you were as fragile as an item made of glass. He handled you with such care, it made you feel like you didn’t deserve him at all.

You got up after he was done, and the smile that adorned his face made your heart leap in your chest. “Almost done.” He mumbled, before cleaning your face affectionately, his thumb swiping softly against your skin. You looked at him as he focused on the dirt on your face, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.

“Done,” He whispered, so insanely close to your face, that you could feel his warm breath against your skin. “Thank you, Finnick.” You breathed out, your hands almost instantly grabbing his, as if his hands were magnets. He left a kiss on your forehead, before finally resting his on yours. There was no force keeping you apart anymore.

It was just you and him.

winter break has finally started which means i will have A LOT of time to write your requests!!! tysm all of you for trusting me with your ideas and i’ll work on them as soon as possible ⭐️⭐️

okay y’all i rewatched the hunger games in like a really long time and my feelings for both peeta and finnick have resurfaced (just like i do on here every few months)

but i suddenly got sm motivation to write for them so my reqs are open for these two!!

i mean just look at them 🙏🙏

okay y’all i rewatched the hunger games in like a really long time and my feelings for both peeta and finnick have resurfaced (just like i do on here every few months)

but i suddenly got sm motivation to write for them so my reqs are open for these two!!

i mean just look at them 🙏🙏

rewatching the hunger games rn and peeta is so soft and sweet and clingy and obsessive but so gentle all at once i love him so bad.

˗ˏˋcam cameron ´ˎ˗

“hi, it’s me, sextus.”

fics/one shots

dress

in which you and cam have hated each other for as long as you can remember. but what if that hatred wasn’t actually what you thought it was.

blurbs

head cannons

˗ˏˋ chad meeks martin ´ˎ˗

“i'm like... 99% sure that you're not the killer.”

fics/one shots

before it’s too late

in which you and your best friend share secret feelings for each other. but you being attacked makes him realise how quickly life can come to an end.

whenever

in which chad notices that you have been avoiding to eat and that you show signs of insecurity. so he tries to comfort you the best he can.

remedie

in which chad is the only one who can make you feel better no matter how you’re feeling.

blurbs

headcannons

chad x reader who’s dewey’s god daughter

she’s been distant lately and after an incident at a frat party he comes to check up on her and she apologizes out of nowhere and he’s all confused and she just vents and cries about how guilty she feels

(maybe she’s the one who called dewey instead of gale and that’s why she feels guilty)

a shoulder to lean on

chad meeks x reader

notes: warnings: (underage drinking, mention of scars, slight mention of weed, drunk!reader) i think that's all?? ughh i don't really like this but the lack of chad fics is criminal

words: 2.6k

Maybe letting Tara get you a drink hadn't been such a good idea; the taste of pure vodka with a hint of lemonade burned your throat, making you involuntarily wince. You turned to Tara, who was smirking mischievously, clearly amused by your reaction.

"You alright there?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

You coughed lightly, trying to regain your composure. "Yeah, I just wasn't expecting it to be that strong," your voice is slightly hoarse.

Tara chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You said you wanted something strong, didn't you?"

You managed a weak smile, nodding in acknowledgment. You figured you'd get used to the taste, just like Tara seemed to have from the looks of it. Her pirate headwrap was about to fall off her head, and she had been talking and dancing with people she barely knew all night, even introducing you to three or four "new friends" she had made.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean 'knock-me-off-my-feet' strong," you retorted. Tara laughed, taking a sip from your cup before walking back to a new target to befriend.

As Tara disappeared into the dancing crowd, you took another sip of the potent cocktail, determined to get through it. Trying to make your way to the couch where Mindy sat with her new girlfriend, you bumped into a few people along the way, each one giving you a dirty look or a friendly nod as the brim-filled drink spilled a bit every time you brushed past someone.

While trying to pat your dress dry, you didn’t pay any mind to Chad calling your name, only noticing his presence when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see a tipsy-looking Chad with a cowboy hat on his head, the varsity jacket now long gone.

He reached out his hand to flick the cat ears perched on your head. "Nice ears," he slurred, grinning widely. You couldn't help but smile back at him.

“Nice hat,” he grinned, his hand moving to your waist, and the other one reaching for your cup. “I thought you were coming with Tara?”

“Yeah, she’s…” you gestured around the crowded room, “I might've lost her.”

Chad chuckled, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "Classic Tara," his hand squeezed your waist, making you look at him. "Well, you're not alone now. What are we drinking?" he asked, his eyes scanning the cup he'd just taken from you.

You shrugged. "Vodka and lemonade," you replied, gesturing to the cup. "Consider yourself warned, it's pretty intense." 

He gave you a look before chugging some of the drink, immediately cringing. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. "Told you," you teased.

Chad’s roommate approached, a cardboard costume covering most of his tall frame, and he rambled about how the loud music mixed with whatever shots Chad and him had done before made his head hurt. 

You couldn’t help but zone out, taking small sips of your drink and trying to ignore the taste as you stared at Chad. The whole friend group had been through so much in Woodsboro, and you couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t seem to be hurting as much as you were. 

The stab scars on your left arm and your stomach felt like a constant reminder of that hospital. Of Dewey. As you continued to pretend to listen to Chad's roommate's complaints about his throbbing head, your mind drifted to the events of the past year.

The Woodsboro incident had left you scarred, both physically and emotionally. The loss of Dewey had hit you hard, and the memories of that terrifying night still haunted your dreams. You couldn't shake the feeling that the danger wasn't entirely over, and you had become more vigilant and cautious, constantly looking over your shoulder. 

Sam was the only one that knew about the nightmares that left you shaking and sweaty with fear about the masked killer and your godfather. And she made sure to reassure you that you weren’t going insane, that she also had those dreams. Sometimes, when you get in your head, you can feel the scars start to hurt again, you remember the pain, the fear, and the loss all too vividly. 

You only focused back on the conversation when you felt Chad’s arm wrap around your shoulders, and a single tear on your cheek, which you quickly wiped before the boys could notice it. The topic had changed from Ethan’s poor alcohol tolerance to Chad forgetting to take his dorm keys. 

Chad continued to talk to Ethan, while keeping his arm around you and his thumb tracing eight-figures on your shoulder. You leaned into his side, taking solace in his presence. The relentless pounding of the music and the swirling chaos of the party seemed to fade into the background as you felt the soothing rhythm of his thumb and the drink that, just like Tara promised, didn’t taste so strong now. 

Soon enough, Ethan was dragged away by a smiley Anika, begging him to dance because Mindy refused to. “What’s up?” Chad asked, moving your hair behind your ears and cupping your face.

“Hm?” “You’re really quiet,”

You sighed softly, gazing into Chad's eyes as you tried to remind yourself that this is just how Chad was, touchy and flirty. "Just tired, I guess," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded in understanding, his hand gently stroking your cheek. 

“Do you want to leave? I can walk you.” 

You looked around at the swirling, chaotic party and then back at Chad, his expression filled with concern. The offer was tempting, and you appreciated his consideration, but you couldn't help but feel that you needed to confront your fears and the memories that still haunted you.

"I appreciate it, Chad," you said, a soft smile touching your lips, "but I think I need to stay here a bit longer. I'm not ready to let this party beat me." you joked.

He eyed you for a second, hesitating, before letting go of you and giving you a smile. “Let’s find Tara, yeah?”

Finding Tara, giggly and sharing a joint with Mindy outside, also meant that Chad saw the beer-pong game you walked by on the way. “Ohhh, I see something I like.” he said, dragging you towards the table as the girls started a joke-telling competition in gibberish. 

Tara and Mindy's laughter echoed in the background as you and Chad approached the table. Two sweaty boys on one side of the table, dabbing each other up and chugging drinks to celebrate their win.

Chad grabbed a nearby ping pong ball and turned to you with a mischievous grin. "You ever played beer pong before?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You chuckled, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush through you. “Uh… I've seen it in movies. Does that count?" you replied. He shrugged, “Eh, I’ll teach you.” He passed by a couple to stand on the opposite side to the boys, holding two ping pong balls in his hand with a grin. 

He handed you one of the balls, leaning closer so you could hear him talk. "Okay, so you see those cups over there?" He pointed to the triangle of red Solo cups arranged at the far end of the table, each filled with beer. "We throw the ping pong balls into their cups. If we make it, they drink. If they make it, we drink."

You stared up at him, feeling fuzzy because of the drink Tara had made you earlier and because of how close he was standing, his chest almost touching your back. “Ready?” you hesitated, not really trusting your tipsy aim, but Chad gave your hip a squeeze before focusing on the cups again.

Chad took over, having sobered up enough to not miss his shots. You, on the other side, missed enough shots to empty your cups, "Alright, don't worry," Chad reassured you, a playful grin on his face. "You're getting the hang of it. Just focus on the cups and take your time."

Feeling the alcohol begin to take its toll, you hoped your drunken state didn’t lead to an embarrassing display. You aimed for the last cup, missing by mere inches. The beer pong ball bounced off the rim and rolled across the table. Chad leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, it's all in good fun. We can make a comeback."

His warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else – the scars, the nightmares, and the chaos of the party. It was just you and Chad, engaged in a playful game with the world fading away. 

And just like that, it downed back on you, all at once.

Chad must have noticed the change in your demeanor because he gently took your hand, his touch offering a reassuring anchor in the midst of the emotional storm. “Hey, hey, it’s fine. It’s just a game.” 

Your eyes met Chad's, his gaze warm and understanding, but you could see the concern etched in his expression. The chaos of the party seemed to intensify around you, the laughter and music becoming a cacophony that threatened to drown you. The weight of the past year bore down on you, the memories of that terrifying night in Woodsboro, the loss of Dewey, and the constant guilt that ate at you for calling Dewey for help.

He wrapped an arm around you, “You drank too much,” he said, putting down the cup you were holding because of your last miss. “Let’s get some air.”

Chad led you away from the beer pong table, guiding you through the crowd of partygoers. The night air felt cool against your skin as you stepped outside. The chaotic sounds of the party faded behind you, and he led you outside with a strong hold on your hand, and an arm around your waist.

You took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind and steady your racing heart. "I'm sorry,"

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "You don't have to apologize for anything. We all have our moments."

He didn’t say anything when you stayed quiet, looking down as he walked you to your dorm. Once you reached the building, Chad stopped and turned to face you, “Keys?” 

You fumbled around in your bag for a moment before finally locating your dorm keys. You handed them to Chad with a grateful smile. "Thanks," you said, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. 

You stepped inside your dorm, and Chad followed. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the party. You sat down on your bed, and Chad took a seat beside you. He didn't say anything for a moment, allowing you to collect your thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, he rubbed your back, “Why?”

“For Dewey.”

Chad's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, don't blame yourself for what happened to Dewey. None of this was your fault," he said in a soothing tone, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. "We all lost someone we cared about last year, and we're all still trying to come to terms with it. It's okay to feel the way you do."

Wiping at the tears that covered your face, you hiccuped as Chad stared at you. "I know, but sometimes it's just hard to shake that guilt, you know?" 

“None of us blame you for what happened. Dewey was trying to protect us all, including you.”

Chad pulled you into a comforting hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. "We all have those thoughts, but it doesn't change what happened. You're not alone in this, okay? We're here for you."

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands like he’d done earlier that night. “Why haven’t you told us about this?”

“Sam knows,” your voice broke as you shrugged your shoulders, “but I didn't want to burden everyone with it. We've all been through so much, and I didn't want to add to the weight on your shoulders."

Chad's eyes held a mixture of concern and understanding. "You're not a burden, and you shouldn't have to go through this alone," he said softly. "and we've got your back. That's what friends are for." 

He kissed your forehead, lingering for a few seconds before pulling back to give you a small smile. “You know we all love you, right?” you stayed quiet, not really knowing what to say. You’d distanced yourself from the group since the murders, not enough for them to stop talking to you, but seeing their faces made you go back to that night.

"I do," you finally whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "I love you all too."

Chad's thumb gently wiped away the tears from your cheeks, “I’ll make you something to eat, yeah? So the alcohol goes away a bit.” you nodded and he kissed where your tears had been just seconds before he wiped them.

While Chad prepared a simple meal, you took the opportunity to wash your face and change into more comfortable clothes. When you returned to the kitchen, the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches filled the air, making your stomach rumble. He handed you a plate with a smile, and you both sat down at the small table in your dorm room. 

“Thank you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't know what I would've done without you tonight."

Chad smiled, "Of course,” 

As you both finished your sandwiches, Chad cleared the plates and put them in the sink. You watched him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You're a great cook," you remarked, genuinely impressed.

Chad chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Well, I've had a lot of practice. Ethan is a horrible cook."

You appreciated his lightheartedness and humor. It was moments like these that made you feel like you could truly escape the darkness that had been haunting you. "I'm glad you're in my life, Chad."

His smile widened, and he approached you, gently cupping your face. "I'm glad I'm in your life too," he said, his voice filled with warmth. He squished your cheeks with his hand, pushing you to chuckle as he showered your face with kisses. “So, so glad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he pulled you back in for another hug. After a while, you both pulled away from the hug, but Chad kept his arm around your shoulders, his touch grounding you. 

“So, what now?" you asked, looking up at Chad, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a while.

"Well, we could watch a movie, or we could just sit here and talk. It's up to you." 

You considered your options for a moment, feeling the weight of the past year slowly lifting from your shoulders. 

"A movie sounds good," you finally replied, a genuine smile gracing your lips as Chad played with your fingers before standing up to lead you to the couch. He places another lingering kiss on your forehead as you sit together, his arms wrapped around you and, just for a moment, you think about how he makes you feel safe, how his presence eases the ache in your heart, even if just for a little while.

The two of you settled on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, with a comforting movie playing in the background. Chad's arm remained around your shoulders, offering silent support as you both immersed yourselves in the storyline. Occasionally, he'd squeeze your shoulder or run his fingers through your hair, a wordless reassurance that he was there.

upbraid — ethan landry

Description: Upbraid—To upbraid someone is to speak to them in an angry or critical way in response to something they have done wrong—in other words, to scold them.

Or: You hate that Ethan has been careless while wearing the mask.

Pairing: Spider-Man!Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Warnings/Tags: descriptions of wounds/bruises, some angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Author’s Note: a little writing exercise for me, i took merriam webster’s september 3rd word of the day (upbraid) and built a plot out of it :] finished it about a month later LMAO

It was after a night out with some friends that you discovered that your best friend since high-school, Ethan, was the same man dressing up in red and blue and patrolling the streets every night. You came home slightly drunk, and the vigilante was passed out on your fire escape, battered and bruised. You hadn’t known it was him yet. It was when you had to stitch him up—while he was unconscious—and you saw a birthmark on his side that you got suspicious. When he took off the mask right in front of you was the confirmation.

You’d been taking care of him since then. He insisted that you didn’t have to, but sometimes you figured that patching him up was more for you than him.

Things didn’t change much after that incident except for that Ethan comes to you every night for his wounds. Outside of that secret shared between you two, there was no change in your relationship whatsoever.

Working regular shifts at a local coffee shop ensured you heard whatever the news stations were saying about Spider-Man that week due to the television always playing, albeit at a low volume. Over the last few months, you learned how yo tune it out in fear that you’ll one day hear that Ethan was dead.

But your coworkers couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Which, at first, you didn’t care, but now that you knew it Ethan, you shut down any words about Spider-Man.

All it took was one day, on your break.

There were no customers, so you lounged in the main sitting area scrolling through your phone.

“Holy shit,” Mindy, the only coworker you considered a friend, grabbed the nearby remote and turned up the TV volume. “Look.”

Seeing as she wasn’t usually the type to care about Spider-Man, your instincts trusted that whatever was on the screen wasn’t about him. But you were so, so wrong.

It happened quickly.

The headline caught your eye first:

LIVE: SPIDER-MAN FIGHTS GREEN GOBLIN

The green goblin. That’s what the media had been calling the bad guy of the week. Well, more like two weeks. Ethan assured you that he had it under control.

It was clear as day that he, in fact, did not have it under control.

Your spine went rigid.

The camera zoomed in on Spider-Man, a large gash on his calf and holding his arm close to his chest, assessing the situation while civilians ran for their lives.

You grabbed the remote from Mindy’s hand, turning off the TV and earning you an irked ‘Hey!’; however you didn’t hear much more than that because you were bolting out the door in the next second.

You waited about an hour in anticipation at your apartment, med kit on the counter, sitting there blankly and watching if your phone got any texts from Ethan. You repeatedly ignored the texts from Mindy or your manager asking where you had gone—none of that was important now—Ethan had to be your priority.

The loud bang on your window finally signalled his arrival, and you hated that you were relieved. The pit in your chest grew deeper every time, and yet every time, it meant he was alive.

The room was eerily quiet.

Ethan winced as you wrapped up his arm. Whenever you patched him up like this, it was always quiet. But this time—this time was different, somehow. It was tense. Something hung in the room and it left a tense note, an unfinished symphony; he was in the dark.

It hit him that it was the look on your face which made him fill with dread.

Your furrowed brows accompanied a seemingly permanent frown on your face, and your eyes were everywhere but his own.

He knew how much he worried you. You said so on the first day he landed on that fire escape, but you always started every visit with an, ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ or at least some variation of it.

This wasn’t that. At all.

“Can you at least talk to me?” He broke the silence, a glass shattered.

You looked up at him, “No.”

The air left his lungs. “What?” Maybe it was the end. “What—what do you mean?”

“You wanna talk?” You haphazardly shoved things in the med kit, zipping it up and walking away with it to put it back where it belonged.

Ethan only nodded hesitantly.

“I’ll talk.” When you came back to face him, you looked down. “You’re fucking careless.”

He could only part his lips in hopes that words will come. Maybe they will. But nothing did, he didn’t know if he truly could’ve spoken at that moment because you were elaborating what you meant soon enough.

“You just—you come in here and expect me to fix you every single time,” he heard your heart beat faster with every word. “And then you go out there and do it again.”

“I told—“

“No!” his jaw shut tight when you raised your voice. “I’m tired, Ethan. I really am. I see you getting hurt every day—I have to see that, Ethan, because you’re everywhere! Then you come to me and I have to pretend like thinking about you dying doesn’t keep me up at night.”

Ethan’s heart plummeted into the abyss. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole along with it, as the shame and disgust at himself hit him all at once. He had nothing else to say. There were no words for you, because you were right. And that’s what hurt the most.

He had nothing else to say except, “I didn’t know I hurt you like that.”

“Ethan—”

“I told you that you didn’t have to do that for me.”

“If I don’t do it, nobody else will,” you sighed.

“I’m sorry.” Ethan had been so lost in protecting others that he lost sight of protecting you. In turn, he hurt you—used you. “I’ll go.”

He stood up in haste, shuffling past you with his eyes glued to the ground.

“Ethan,” God, even the way you say his name wounded him. So much that he’d already forgotten about his physical state. He winced as he put his mask back on and opened up the window. “Don’t.”

But that was a good sign. Don’t meant you wanted him to stay. Nonetheless, he still had to protect you. Protecting you was his priority.

“I can’t—” he coughed. “This isn’t…good. I’ll go.”

There was a beat of silence when he looked back before leaving.

“You know what?” You added. “You’re right. Just leave.”

And so he left.

Days passed.

You ignored the screens, though it always made its way back to you.

SPIDER-MAN: ABANDONED NEW YORK?

Spider-Man was gone. For three days, at least. Yet the world felt his absence. Your world, however, was at a complete standstill. Waiting with bated breath in anticipation of either hearing about the death of your Ethan or his resurfacing. You hoped it was the former.

Your mutual friends even sensed your unease, but because of college and finals, it was really only Tara who took note of the blankness in your eyes when someone brought up Ethan.

Thankfully, Spider-Man showed up. The city rejoiced in being protected once again. But you were still missing Ethan in your life. Through Chad, you checked on his state, who always responded that his roommate rarely spoke to him these days. It seemed that Ethan was letting you have your pick of friends, almost as if it were a divorce and you got what he had. Even if the idea of you and Ethan getting ‘divorced’ made you laugh at its absurdity, in some ways it did feel like that.

Weeks passed. It was days before finals. You had dealt somewhat well with Ethan’s absence by losing yourself in your day-to-day life. You studied harder, even picked up extra shifts which made Mindy question your motive. You hated work.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though the all-nighters finally caught up to you.

It was dawn. You hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, and you knew Ethan would be out patrolling at this moment. You banged on the door of his dorm, waking up an angry Chad, but you couldn’t think about that now as you headed straight for Ethan’s room and sat on his bed.

You figured it was too long. Weeks too long. You should have talked to him the day after, but his insistence on leaving your apartment that day made your heart constrict in ways you didn’t think possible. Maybe you hurt him too much with what you said.

The sleep came easily.

A light touch of your arm woke you up.

Upon rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you were faced with Ethan. Your Ethan. His mask was off.

The instinct to stand up to wrap your arms around him was as easy as the sleep that came to you hours before. It was long overdue.

It took a few seconds for him to reciprocate, and you sighed when you finally felt him release his breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

He pulled back to your dismay, keeping you at arms length.

“You—you shouldn’t be here.”

You almost flinched. “What?”

“No,” he shook his head incessantly. “I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

That was not what you expected. “Ethan, what—”

“Please, just—just leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

Same like that day, his eyes didn’t leave the ground. Anywhere but your eyes.

“Answer me, at least.” You sounded desperate.

“I can’t hurt you like that again. So, leave.” His voice tapered off, shaken.

“Look me in the eyes when you say that.” You mustered up all the strength you could despite having woke up mere minutes ago. “Tell me that I’m safer without you.”

He shook his head instinctively, “You’re not without me.”

“What?” You whispered, lungs out of air.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been watching me, aren’t you?”

His silence said everything.

You reached to brush his messy curls out of his eyes. His mask had messed them up. He finally turned his head to you, curious.

Yet, you couldn’t look him in his eyes as you said it.

“You hurt me when you’re careless,” you declared. “But it hurts more when you—you…think I don’t want you to be around me. I feel safe with you, Ethan. If you really don’t want to hurt me then…then just—please stay in my life. As Ethan.”

He pulled you closer, and you rested your head against his shoulder.

“What you’re doing as Spider-Man is good. You have to protect people. But you’re Ethan. I fell in love with him first and—and I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“You’re in love with me?”

He lifted your chin up to face him, the contact surging through your being.

You nodded wordlessly.

He finally smiled, “I think I’ve been in love with you for longer.”

“Nuh uh,” you flashed him a grin back. “I knew when I met you.”

“Then we’re even.”

He kept his hands on your chin, subconsciously pulling you closer. He desperately searched your eyes for unease, but found something he’d always known was there: love.

“Prove it.”

And so he kissed you like his life depended on it.

hi ursula! would you be up to writing jack x reader where she wears his shirt for the first time ever and he’s just mesmerised by her, and kisses her face all over? i think that’d be cute!

sweet nothing — jack champion

word count: 661

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: jack goes home to his girlfriend and her sweet nothings.

JACK LEFT THE SET WITH THE FEELING OF EXCITEMENT INVADING HIS CHEST. It was an unusual thing to feel after long hours of shooting, but that day was different because Y/N was waiting for him at his house. They were both free the following day so Jack told her to sleep over and spend the next day together.

As he drove towards his home, he could picture her perfectly in his head. She was probably making his favourite food—because she loved to spoil him after tiring days of work—while humming some Taylor Swift song and dancing around the kitchen like a little kid.

And once he parked in the driveway, he sprinted towards the entrance door with a big smile, eager to see his girl. He was instantly hit with the smell of pizza and the sound of her sweet voice. When he reached the kitchen he leaned against the doorframe, and took his time to admire the sight in front of him.

Y/N was standing behind the counter, eyes furrowed in concentration as she carefully put cheese on the pizza—her perfectionist ass wanted the squares of cheese to be even and perfectly cut even though they were going to melt—, her hair was in a messy ponytail and strands fell in front of her eyes which made her sigh in frustration—something that made Jack smiled like a love-sick fool because he couldn’t believe the adorable girl standing in his kitchen was his.

And finally, the last thing that capture his attention was what she was wearing. The short sleeves of the plaid green shirt reached her elbows, and when he got to see her full body he noticed it ended by her upper thighs. She had never looked more beautiful.

Jack wanted this to be his everyday sight. He wanted to found himself running home to her warm smile, to her little rumblings about her day at uni, to her easing laugh and creases in her eyes, to her cozy arms and awful singing voice: to her sweet nothings.

“Hey” she spoke once she noticed his tall frame leaning on the door. His eyes were on her, but he appeared to be in another planet. “Babe?”

Jack blinked as he got out of his trance. “What?”

“Nothing, I just said hey” she laughed. “What happened?”

“You. In my shirt” he answered, eyes filled with adoration.

“Yeah, sorry. I spilled tomatoe soup on mine so I stole this one”

He took a step closer and cupped her jaw “It looks so much better in you. Hell, you know what? All my clothes are yours now, you should wear mine everyday from now on”

“But I like my clothes” Y/N laughed.

“I’ll burn them so you’ll have no choice” he joked. “For real, you look so beautiful. I never want to take my eyes off you” he started kissing every inch of the skin on her face, making her giggle.

“I missed you a lot” she said wrapping her arms around his neck as their foreheads touched. “How was work?”

Jack pressed a kiss on her nose “It was okay. Been looking forward to this all day, though. It was hard to concentrate” he admitted, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of their hug. “Missed you too. It was excruciating.”

“I made pizza, is that okay?” she asked. Jack looked down and smiled when he saw the pizza had the shape of a heart. “Saw it on Pinterest, and I just had to do it”

“You’re so cute. I love you.” he pressed his nose against hers, his heart pumping in his chest. He never thought how good being in love with someone felt like.

“I love you too, J.” she smiled lovingly.

And to have that someone love you back? It was priceless. He would take every exhausting day at work, every industry disruptor that made a bad review on his performance or movies, every soul deconstructor that threw hate comments at him, as long as at the end of the day he would have Y/N’s love and support.

sfw hcs, nate archibald.

summary: nate and sfw hcs!

warnings: not yet proofread!

notes: sorry for the inactivity but i plan on this being my first comeback post aka i’m returning very soon! stay tuned for my halloween event 🤭

The original and best golden retriever boyfriend out there.

He’s so obsessed with you, literally worships the ground you walk on.

It took some time for the two of you to finally get together, as you were worried about Blair’s reaction, but she ended up being supportive, since you were happy.

He loves spoiling you but hates when you spoil him. He’ll buy you anything you want or ask for but as soon as you spend even a dollar on him, he’ll insist on paying you back or buying you something in return.

His favourite date with you isn’t some expensive restaurant, he just loves when he gets to come over to your house and order takeout while watching a movie.

That being said, he doesn’t mind going out to a fancy place if you ask. Of course, he insists on paying though.

Whenever he’s having family issues and needs to get away, he always goes to you for comfort and a place to stay until he’s back on his feet.

Speaking of family issues, even though he doesn’t always know how to voice his appreciation, you’re always there to step up and defend him against his father or anyone else whenever he can’t.

Your family adores him and constantly asks about him, he’s literally the most respectful boyfriend you could’ve asked for.

Nate definitely loves wearing couples costumes during Halloween or having a sleepover and wearing matching pyjamas during Christmas, even though he pretends it’s silly.

In conclusion, this man loves you so much and sees you as his lifetime partner, you’re just so special to him.

taglist: @emryb @l5byrinth @hayleysimp @edb954