I Am Motaz Mohamed ❤ A Palestinian Youngman From Gaza🍉🇵🇸, Seeking To Find Safety And Peace

in your arms

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: cuddling with trent after he comes home from training

warnings/contains: fluff, kisses, just fluffiness

a/n: everyone i apologise for not writing my requests for finnick yet im such an awful perfectionist so i rewrite a LOTTT and sometimes completely delete everything and start over. anyways i was reading trent fics and just had the urge to write for him so here’s this. it’s so bad but i wanted to give you guys something while you wait 😚 again im so so sorry

WHEN arriving home after the long training, Trent was utterly worn out. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he stepped foot in the bedroom, letting out a yawn. You were laying in bed, already waiting for him to come home, “Hi, handsome.”

The boyish smile that graced his face because of your comment made you feel like the happiest person alive. He made his way over to your side of the bed. “Hey, gorgeous,” He responded, dropping his bag on the floor. From the look on your boyfriend’s face you could see how exhausted he was. You patted the spot beside you on the bed, “C’mere.” And Trent obeyed, not wasting even a millisecond. After you pulled the duvet over the two of you, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer.

Your lover took in your scent before he let out a contented sigh. Trent loved nights like these, because with you in his arms, what more did he need. “I missed ya.” He mumbled with his eyes closed, resting his head on top of your own. Your legs intertwined with his underneath the sheets, “I missed you too. How was training?”

“Good, good.” Trent responded, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You hummed in response , your fingers finding their way in his hair as they started to play with it. You look up at him and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose, earning a giggle from the man. He mirrors your action, then places one on your cheek, and soon he’s peppering your entire face with kisses.

Giggles leave your lips as Trent proceeds to kiss every single part of your face, whispering sweet nothings as he does so.

— 🤍 ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⟡ 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.

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.

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.

𝑭𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕‧₊˚✧ . ˚

𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏.𝟗𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐀𝐔 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬—𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚. 𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝟓 + 𝟏 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 ♡

When Dae-Su invites the whole gang to visit his uncle’s gym for “fun,” it never crossed anyone’s mind that they would be learning fighting skills. Perhaps Nam-Ra was smart to decline even before hearing the entirety of the planned itinerary, opting to study instead. To put it courteously, Dae-Su’s uncle was as eccentric as he was, maybe even more so.

Though you have to admit you could get behind his reasoning for pairing everyone up the way he did, regardless of whether it was truly effective in terms of honing techniques or just based on skill level, there’s no doubt it’s now your new form of entertainment:

1) On-Jo was kicking Cheong-San back and forth on their mat, expressionless. Poor guy looked like he was in a pinball machine, but he truly didn’t seem to mind even though you knew he was agile enough to avoid it. You can’t lie; they’re absolutely adorable even when they fight. Seeing I-Sak coming over occasionally to tease them only confirmed that you weren’t the only one who thought so. Huh, who would’ve thought self-defense training between two people could be this cute.

2) Animatedly, Gyeong-Su gestures “ladies first” to I-Sak, but she mimics his motions, repeating for him to “man up.” From your point of view, it looked almost comical, like one of those silent movies you could never understand. Neither of the two seemed to take it seriously; they were simply just having fun yielding to one another, taking nothing to heart.

3) Ji-Min and Hyo-Ryung were in some kind of mutual stand-off, neither one of them daring to move, their stance reminding you of two cats with a ball of yarn in the middle. They were too far away for you to listen in, but from the former’s expression, you could tell she was complaining endlessly. Is it worth it to bet on who would make the first attack rather than who would win between them?

4) In a corner, Wu-Jin and Joon-Yeong were ganging up on Dae-Su, except the biggest hurdle was that they clearly needed an actual gang to make Dae-Su budge. Apparently, his position as the so-called mediator—since it was deemed no one could win in a fight against Dae-Su if he simply laid down—didn’t matter to the other two; it was purely an opportunity for them to use him as a stress ball. You laugh at the idea that as a referee, one is supposed to keep a close eye on matches to ensure all rules are adhered to, but here, Wu-Jin and Joon-Yeong definitely found a loophole: if you take out the official, anything goes.

5) Now, that left you and Su-Hyeok, mainly because according to Dae-Su, he wanted to see you guys fight to the death, leaving you wondering if he meant that in the literal sense. “Bare-Su doesn’t know what giving up is, and Y/N would never accept defeat,” was his reasoning, pestering his uncle to pit the boys and girls against one another. Originally you and On-Jo were supposed to practice together, but for some reason, it just ended up like this. You were going to question Dae-Su as to why only the four of you were in a mixed pair, but decided against it. Knowing him, it’s probably better if you didn’t ask.

As you’re watching the hilarious matches—if they could even be called that—Su-Hyeok’s voice draws you back to your own mat and sparring partner for the day.

“Out of all supernatural beings, what are you most afraid of?” “Zombies,” you say without hesitation. “Alright, then go ahead and imagine me as a zombie in a sudden apocalypse.” “Please, when would zombies show up? At a high school of all places—I don’t think so,” you reason, giving him a pointed look.  “Just for mock situational purposes, I’ll be a zombie; a handsome one.” 

“You?” “Yeah, you can’t picture me as a zombie?” “No, I can, but not as a handsome one,” you tease, even though it was far opposite from the truth.  Rolling his eyes, he gives up. “Fine. Let’s just say I’m a regular zombie.” Su-Hyeok begins to move behind you as he says, “In the instance that I—a zombie—were to come around and do this…” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, placing your neck in the crook of his elbow in a squeezing motion that would choke you in a real-life situation with more aggression involved.  Surprising him, you quickly remove his arm, spin around, and pin it behind his back in a matter of seconds. Technically, he never asked if you had any prior experience, which you did; a black belt to be exact, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“How are you this strong?” Su-Hyeok asks, genuinely shocked. Though he groans at the pressure you applied, he reverses the disadvantageous position by drawing your arm out and back up over you, untangling himself first before flinging you down on the mat. Despite that, he still throws an arm out for you, cradling your neck to lessen the impact you would’ve received otherwise. You would never tell Su-Hyeok, but his absolute care for you—leagues even above others—was your heart’s kryptonite.

“You don’t think I can handle a fair fight, huh?” Without faltering, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip yourself back on top, not quite registering that you were presently straddling him. Too competitive to pay it any mind, you miss the slight smile Su-Hyeok tries to suppress—that always meant trouble. Decisively, you shift into putting him into an arm bar, one leg across his throat while you twist his arm tightly, disabling him from moving. “I never said that you couldn’t!” He taps the floor, seemingly signaling that he wanted out. “I give up!” He exhales tiredly.

“Oh sorry!” You apologize hurriedly, truly worried. Knowing that you had an unfair advantage to begin with, you loosen your grip altogether, already beginning to check if you went too far in the spirit of competition when Su Hyeok unceremoniously flips you back around, pinning you down. Y/H/C splays out beneath you, a stark contrast against the blue mat as his hands hold your wrists above your head, pressing it firmly to the floor while his knees lock outside of yours, restricting all movement. “Oof,” you gasp, not expecting the force or the motion’s speed, struggling against the added weight on you.

You look up, seeing Su-Hyeok chuckling openly at you having fell for his trick. His face ends up unbelievably close to yours, so close that you can see drops of sweat dotting his hairline. Every time he exhales, you can feel his breath ghost over your face, and you wonder if he could hear how fast your heart was beating or whether he could feel it from the radial pulse in your wrists through his hands due to the compromising position he currently had you locked in. His eyes sweep from your face down to your lips for a split second before looking back up, though it goes unnoticed by you.

Your feelings aside, you were never one to lose—Dae-Su was spot-on about that—and you definitely could get yourself out of the position if you just knee him where it’s known to hurt the most. Even those without training would know that oldest trick in the book, but instead, you figure that messing with him is a thousand times more satisfying.  “Do you know your place now?” He taunts, repositioning his hands in a more comfortable position so that it wouldn’t put too much force on your wrists; far too considerate for the situation at hand. “You mean underneath you?” You gaze up at him, defiantly, challenging him to make another move. Clearly flustered at your suggestive tone, his smile falters, causing you to burst into laughter. Dae-Su’s uncle walks around the dojo, gauging the progress of every duo when you see him stopping by your area, scratching his head in confusion. “Oh, geez this is…different. What do we have here?” His eyes widen as he mutters to himself, before he goes back to his usual neutral expression you’ve seen all day. “So…uh, who won?” He raises his eyebrows at you and Su-Hyeok. “I’ve never had to determine who is the victor in this—" he gestures at the air, “—kind of a match before.”  You scoot your head a little bit to the side so you could make eye contact with Dae-Su’s uncle out of respect. How ironic, considering what he was seeing in front of him. Clearly, Su-Hyeok was still too stunned to think properly, but hasn’t let you go. “Me!” You reply without shame, even adding in a smile for good measure.  Skeptical, Dae-Su’s uncle nods anyway. “Well…good going? Keep it up?” he compliments, or rather, questions awkwardly, before going on his way to the other end of the room. You have half a mind to wonder what kind of first impressions you and your friends were making, thinking about what Dae Su’s uncle would encounter on the other mats to follow. When you turn your head back, Su-Hyeok is still looking at you. He shakes his head in amusement as you nudge his knee with yours. “Where’s the sportsmanship? You just declared victory with a lie. All my hard work went down the drain.” “Well, should have spoken up earlier then, you fool.” He scoffs at you, before narrowing his eyes. “Hey! Don’t try to distract me! Is your solution in an unexpected situation to seduce your way out of it?” You blush but hold it together. “Depends, did it work?” Su-Hyeok splutters. “I told you to imagine me as a zombie. How would the undead fall victim to human charm?”  “So, you’re saying my charming nature is distracting.”  “Now you’re just twisting my words.” “You didn’t answer my question,” you press. “Was my method successful or not?” “Again, Y/N, let me remind you that I’m a zombie—" “I’m not asking Zombie Su-Hyeok, I’m asking Human Su-Hyeok what he thinks.”  There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, which should have been warning enough for you. He moves to lace his fingers with yours, and leans in even further, his face barely an inch away. He smirks. “Maybe if you do it more often.”  Not knowing what to say and abruptly much too shy to retaliate, you quickly throw him off of you and move back into a sitting position, your cheeks red. Su-Hyeok falls to the mat on his back, laughing so hard he’s shaking. You kick him with your foot in childish revenge to no avail, glaring all the while. He finally sits up, leaning back onto his arms to continue staring at you, smiling cheekily at the expression on your face. “After that, I think I clearly won.”  Dae-Su comes by and squats between the two of you, looking back and forth pensively. “As the designated referee and the one who suggested this activity in the first place, I’m saying this for the benefit of the whole and all the single people in this room: Next time, a little less flirting and a lot more fighting, please.”

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

can someone help me/send me a tut on how to link my masterlist into my other post? i can’t seem to figure it out 😭

girls be aware 🥶

this celebration for his niece is so cute 🥺

neteyam was born to la la la la la la but was forced to ok ok ok ok ok :(

mystery caller

ethan landry x fem!reader

req by @l5byrinth: so i was thinking about yk the intro of scream 1996? where ghostface calls the girl and they get to talk and he suddenly asks if she has a boyfriend and she's like why you wanna ask me out on a date? so something like that with than be basically he has liked her for a very long time but never really had the courage to ask her out yk? you can decide how you want it to go or end!! this idea has just been in my mind for soooo long a i hope you like this idea.

words: 1.4k

notes: ghostface, mentions of death, mentions of blood, a knife is mentioned once or twice, kissing. i don’t really like this 😭 i’ve realized i’m more of a fluff fic writer

with the news on as background noise, you were fully focused on making dinner as your roommate, anika, made her way back home from a date with mindy, just like she had texted. the buzzing of your phone caught your attention, as it seemed the group chat with your friends was getting filled with messages. chad had texted a couple of times, telling everyone to check the news with a few panicked emojis, and it seemed that everybody else in the chat was just as freaked out as him. 

turning up the volume still holding onto the spatula, your brain took a beat to process the words on the screen saying that sam was a prime suspect for a murder near your apartment. just as you picked up your phone to text the group chat that had now over 50 unread messages, an unrecognized number appeared at the top of your screen. you let it ring for a few seconds, wondering if it could be tara’s sister calling since you hadn’t really ever talked

“hello?” you put it on speaker and left it on the counter as you flipped the two burgers on the pan, one for you and one for your roommate. “y/n” the voice definitely wasn’t sam’s. it was deep, almost robotic, and it sounded like it was mocking her “who is this?”

“poor thing, your friends haven’t told you anything. have they?” there was a chuckle on the other end of the line and you felt yourself tense up a bit once the news reporter held up a mask that had been found at the crime scene “is this a prank?”

“you’d think, wouldn’t you?”

sighing, you moved to where your phone sat and hesitated for a moment before hanging up on the unknown caller. the second you texted mindy, the horror movie expert, about a mystery call from a weird voice she went crazy. mindy spammed the group chat saying he had called you, and you quickly covered by saying it was probably a prank. it was almost halloween after all.

the number lot up your screen again and just as you picked up, you could hear a grunt in the back “bad choice, y/n. hanging up on me”

“who are you?”

“let’s play a game”

you rolled your eyes and decided to keep the call going, your evening had been very boring without anika around “sure”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?” the voice asked. you pretended to think for a minute, getting the plates ready “i’m not really a horror person”

“that’s too bad. do you have a boyfriend?” you let out a laugh “sorry?” the voice stayed quiet, as if challenging you to laugh at whoever it was at the other end of the line one more time “do you?”

“no, why? i won’t go on a date with a stranger, you know?” the person hummed, the like getting clearer by the second “you wouldn’t?” you felt a knot form in your throat once you heard a door shut all the way down the hallway “who is this?” your voice quivered a bit and you quickly opened the messaging app to tell your friends you definitely weren’t home alone. but as soon as you typed out the words, a black gloved hand snatched the phone away

“nah-uh” the masked man shook his head, and you recognized the mask from the news. you could feel your entire body shaking as he took a step closer “please- my roommate is about to get home” you begged, but he only titled his head before reaching out to turn on a voice changer on the side of the mask “i won’t hurt you, y/n”

the knife on his hand pressed gently against your chin and for a second you felt like you were about to die, he titled your head back, making you keep eye contact with the masks’s black eyes “you wouldn’t go on a date with a stranger, huh?”

“you’re wearing the mask from the news” he nodded “you’re going to kill me?”

“i could never, baby”

you made a face at the nickname, but when he didn’t make a move to use the knife that was now covered by his robe you glanced away. the masked man nodded at you “i’ll let you take it off if you keep me a secret. hm?” feeling helpless, you nodded. he took a moment to study your face as if wanting to confirm you truly wouldn’t snitch on him.

he nodded once and you felt yourself get goosebumps as you reached up to the mask’s chin, swiftly taking it off of his head. at the sight of your close friend, you felt your heart drop to the very pit of your stomach “ethan-“

“- you’re a killer” your voice sounded so breathy that ethan felt like revealing himself to you had been a mistake. you were clearly scared of him “no. no, baby. i haven’t killed anyone” it felt as though that robe and mask gave ethan some kind of confidence you had never seen in him. baby?

“not yet, at least” he finished his sentence. okay now you felt your whole body was about to give out, he sensed the change in your demeanor “not you, y/n. never you” he reached to caress your cheek with his still gloved hand and he gave you a small smile. which slowly melted into a smirk as he felt your fear go away for a second “why would you scare me like that” you smacked his chest and he let out a chuckle “oh, please!” he said

his curls had stuck to his forehead from the heat of the mask and you wondered why you weren’t more freaked out by the fact that he had sneaked into your house with the keys you gave him months before. “you wouldn’t go on a date with me?” he asked, voice a little deep as he moved closer. you kept silent, watching him leave the knife on the table, right next to the two plates of food, and he stepped closer to where you stood “can i kiss you, baby? just once”

at loss for words, you felt your body move by itself as you nodded your head yes. his eyes trailed down at your hands, no longer shaking, and he had that smirk on his face again. you had never seen such a confident ethan in the months you had known each other. at the buzzing of your phone, indicating that the group chat was still talking, ethan flipped the screen, stopping you from distracting yourself.

he had taken his right hand’s glove, you realized. ethan used his thumb to split your lips apart as he closed any kind of distance between you, his body now fully flushed against yours. lips still not touching.

“oh, y/n. i can’t believe you hate scary movies, i’m standing here right now and you’re not scared of me”

a small gasp came out from your thoat as he cupped your face, one hand still covered in the black cloth and the other soft against your cheek. he closed his eyes first, or maybe you did. but the second his lips covered yours he let out a grunt from his throat in relief and he was kissing you like his life depended on it. only pulling back to breathe for a second or two before going back in for a kiss. your hands had messed his curls up by then and the spatula you had been holding all that time was somewhere in the floor, you were sure he kicked it away once you dropped it to kiss him back.

pulling away from you, ethan licked his lips. and with the same smirk you’d witnessed for the third time that night, he made his way to the balcony, putting on his mask again before muttering a goodnight and managing to go away unnoticed by any neighbors. anika got back worried, you had heard her keys jiggle on the lock about four times before she actually managed to open the door, she ran in worried and held your face to inspect you before sighing in relief.

“you have some blood here” she wiped it off your chin “what happened? was someone in here?” anika’s eyes moved to the spatula on the floor and the phone that was still facing downwards “nothing- i just- saw the news and got a bit scared. that’s all”

“what about this?” she showed you the small bit of blood on her finger that she had wiped off of your face “i must’ve cut myself making dinner, it doesn’t even hurt. don’t worry” anika nodded, cleaning off her finger before sitting next to you to have dinner. your phone buzzed once again, ethan’s name on the screen and a short text with the words thank you for keeping my secret ;)