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photmath · 1 year ago

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Wrong Impressions | Trent Alexander-Arnold (Part Two)

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader

PART ONE written by the lovely @karotland, would strongly recommend reading that first.

Summary: Stoic, serious Trent walks around campus with murder on his face and is quite the no-nonsense class partner, frustrating you with his anti-social antics. Flustered and feeling guilty after he finds out about how you insulted him, you seek him out at a house party to apologize only to find a whole new Trent, leaving you with a lot of questions.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), suggestive and implied, drinking, cursing

Note: Huge thank you to my girl Karo for letting me write a second part, ilysm and I hope I didn't disappoint (plz lie) <33. This was quite fun, can't believe I agreed to it but I'm so glad I did in the end! Kk love you bunches bye.

After finding Maddie back up on the balcony, you plopped down hard onto the seat next to her. She gave you an all-knowing look, lips tugging into a smirk.

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“You have a look,” her eyes narrowed as she tried to piece together the pieces. “Did you talk to Trent?”

“Yes,” you reply matter of factly, straightening up your posture. “And you were wrong, turns out we won’t be the 0.1% exception because he’s going to talk to me starting Monday.” You wiggled your hips in the chair as you gave her a satisfied smile. However, instead of congratulating you for not being a part of this ‘mathematical wonder,’ she gave you a displeased look.

“You do realize what today is?”

“Friday?”

“You won’t talk to Trent until Monday?” she raises her brows, “even though you’re in his house now? And he’s—” she peers over the balcony, “—right down there? Actually, they’re making their way over here.”

You rose to the balls of your feet immediately, looking down at the raucous boys and Angela from over the balcony. There you saw Trent once again laughing at something Jude said with his arm slung over him as if he’d escape from underneath him.

“How am I supposed to make out with Jude if you’re going to be clinging onto me all night?”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down in the chair with a huff, “It’s not like I’ll be alone. I can chat with the others.” You knew Maddie was only joking, having been split up from her numerous times at other parties.

“And Trent?”

“And Trent.”

“Good,” Maddie smiles, finally satisfied with your answer. But she isn’t done yet, her lips curling up into another grin, “I saw that earlier.”

“Saw what?”

“The look you gave him.”

You didn’t like how vague she was because you looked at Trent now a couple of times throughout the night, but you didn’t think your facial expressions were very obvious.

Her gum smacked loudly as she blew out a bubble, “Were you jealous?”

“No,” you crossed your arms.

“Oh come on, you see him talking to Angela and you go all quiet and suddenly say, ‘I’ll be back.’ And then off you go, stomping until you get to him.”

“I wasn’t stomping,” you laughed, rubbing the nervousness out of your arms. Why did Maddie’s words have this effect on you? Sure you were jealous, but you were jealous because Trent never once gave you that ounce of socialization.

Maddie shook her head once before dismissing the conversation, “Do you want to go inside? I’m getting a bit cold.”

You nod hastily, glad the attention is drawn away from you because god how loud was Maddie talking? Anne seemed to still be preoccupied with the others talking about another ex from her past, but noise traveled between floors it seems and you learned just how easily Trent could overhear conversations.

Sliding back inside, the purple lights and booming music greet you once again. Instinctively, you scan the kitchen and living room for a place for you to stand and chat with friends but your eyes connect with Trent’s as the front door opens. His smile is faint but quickly interrupted once Jude tumbles in from behind him and beelines towards the kitchen where a teammate of his is pouring shots.

Trent, on the other hand, takes his time. He holds the door open for the rest of them to come inside and once Angela comes in last, she perks her head up at him. Trent looks down at her quizzically and whispers something into her ear, making her laugh while he just wears a smirk. You feel the little green monster again, like a gear wanting to turn but a rock was wedged in the middle of it so now it’s grinding loudly in your ears.

You shake off the feeling, turning completely around and facing the direction of the kitchen. Jude downs the shot and then immediately hands one to Maddie—who somehow slipped out of your grip and found her way towards him. She throws her head back once she grabs it from him. You stay mingling around the kitchen, chatting with friends and meeting the ones you don’t recognize.

Feeling a hand brush up on your arm, you turn around to see Trent giving you a soft smile as he moves behind you. You return the friendly smile back, but you aren’t familiar with the feeling that washes over you once he continues to walk past you. Disappointment perhaps? It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought he was coming up to you to chat. So watching him now practically steal Jude away from Maddie, you’re left a tad bit annoyed.

Just as you’re about to make your way out of the kitchen and into the living room where a few others are dancing, a calloused but warm hand wraps around your wrist and stops you. He carries a bottle while staring at you, gesturing to Jude and Maddie, “Do you want to take a shot?”

You briefly glance back at the two, their heads nodding eagerly as they await your answer. Well, why not. You concede, “Just one.”

Trent smirks, lining up four glasses and then pouring what you assume is vodka although you can’t make out the title on the bottle. The four of you down the shot at the same time, you cringing at the burn that goes zipping down your throat. But then you and Maddie holler the moment you two recognize the song that starts playing through the speakers. She reaches out for your hand to dance with her in the small space between the counters and island of the kitchen.

You don’t notice Trent’s lingering gaze on you, or the smile that can’t leave his face as he watches you throw your hands up in the air as if you didn’t care who watched.

An hour into more chatting and dancing, you found yourself desperately searching for an open restroom because seriously who was taking so long in the guest restroom? Trent nurses a red cup to his lips as you find him, standing on your tippy toes to ask, “Is there another restroom that I can use?”

Trent glances at the restroom across the hall and then motions his head upstairs. He speaks but his words are inaudible from the speaker being right next to the both of you. You scrunch up your face and tilt your head and for a brief second, he seems amused. He leans down to yell into your ear, “Follow me!”

The brush of his lips against your ears sends you in a daze. Your feet stay glued on the floor until he passes you, holding out his hand for you to follow him. And his hand. It feels like it’s on fire as he intertwines your fingers tightly with his. He gives your hand a squeeze, maybe to make the grip tighter but you don’t know. He weaves you through the mass of sweating and dancing bodies until he gets to the stairs, you both walking up still hand in hand even though no one was in the way to separate you. The corridor is dark as he stops to open a bedroom door, finally releasing your hand gently as he turns on the light.

You recognize it immediately as his bedroom, the few photos that line his dresser and the same bookbag and football bag that he carried on the floor next to it. His green sheets are neatly tucked into his bed frame, his room overall very clean for a guy.

“You can just use mine,” he points to the door across his bedroom.

“Thank you so much, Trent,” you sigh. You quickly rush into the restroom and almost freeze again at how clean it is. Seriously there was no way his restroom was one wink cleaner than yours.

Once you finish, you expect the room to be empty but Trent is still there standing against the doorframe. A couple beads of sweat line his forehead as he swipes them, then looking up at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “I’m okay.”

“The weather,” he indulges, “getting cold, hmm?”

You break into a laugh, feeling a little nervous to have all his attention in his bedroom after using his restroom. You stand a couple of steps in front of him, peering up at him, “It is, didn’t expect the temperature to drop so suddenly in the past hour.”

“Bummer,” he mentions. “I wanted to sit on the balcony.”

Gosh, his eyes are really brown.

Trent bursts into an abrupt laugh, his head falling forward and dimples deep into his cheeks as he peers up at you. You feel a little giddy getting this sudden reaction at him, chuckling back at him despite your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you.

“Thank you, darling, for noticing the color of my eyes.”

You slap your hand over your mouth, eyes wide as your cheeks rush with heat, “I said that out loud?”

“You did.”

“Oh my god—”

“It’s okay,” Trent muses, he picks up his head and leans it against the doorframe. Chewing the gum he suddenly has in his mouth, you’re memorized by the way his jaw clenches over and over again. Embarrassment is now mixing with another feeling as Trent continues to look at you through his hooded eyelids. Your cheeks feel a little flushed, and you knew your mouth was not going to want to stay closed tonight if he were to continue. Because gosh, the urge to impulsively speak never felt so strong until now.

You brush off whatever dust was on your shorts, deciding to be strong, “We should head back.”

He nods, turning off the light and closing the door. You make it downstairs faster than he does in order to lose yourself in the crowd. Not like Trent would miss you, he had his eyes on you the moment he walked back into his house.

You don’t even realize you’re searching for Maddie until your phone pings, Maddie’s message reads that they’re on the balcony getting some air with some friends. As you make your way to the balcony door, you internally groan knowing you’d be a little cold but there was still some alcohol running through you that could keep you somewhat warm.

You seem to be interrupting a conversation as you sit down on one of the couches, Anne screaming at you to agree, “Tell Jude I’m not lying.”

Jude’s arm is slung over Maddie as he laughs loudly, his head falling onto her shoulder. You chuckle, “She isn’t lying.”

You fall into conversation quickly among them, only glancing up once Trent walks out. He shuts the door behind him and sits down in the only empty space next to you, spreading his legs and arms out wide as he settles in.

“Get too hot in there for you?” you question.

He nods, “Music’s buzzin’ the ears.”

You don’t mean to stare at him, but the chain necklace he wears sitting against his already tight white tee leaves little to the imagination and makes you give him a double take. He looked so good underneath this one dim light out on the balcony. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it wasn’t, but the desire to be closer to him consumed you. However, you fought it, not wanting to embarrass yourself more.

Not realizing the conversation stirred onto you, you give the others a puzzled look as they turn towards you.

“Yeah, I don’t ever see you with a man,” Anne agrees. Your eyebrows furrow immediately, feeling breathless as you realize where the conversation is going. “We all thought Johnny would be endgame, you know?”

“Aww, do you remember when he planned out that ‘date-but-not-a-date’ for her and then he had to cancel because he got a flat tire?” Maddie asks, snickering. “It was so romantic. A picnic underneath the stars, did you guys ever reschedule?”

You wanted to dig yourself into a hole and never show face again. In front of Trent? This was quite possibly one of the most embarrassing moments of your life and it was astonishing at just how many moments from tonight made that list.

It takes you everything to not look at Trent’s reaction but he stays quiet. You find the courage to say, “We actually did.”

“You two were so cute,” Maddie gushes.

Jude jumps up from his seat, “I fuckin’ love this song!” The speaker from inside the house played a very dulled-out song but it was still a bit distinguishable. And suddenly you were thankful for the existence of Jude Bellingham, especially the loud, always-interrupting person he was when he was drunk. He starts dancing alone, his cup still in his hand as he looks towards you, “Come on, dance with me.”

You get up quickly, wanting the comments about Johnny to stop before they get any deeper. Your hand stays intertwined with one of Jude’s as he dances off-beat. He was too drunk to find it or even care about it, you going along with him. The girls cheer out loud for the both of you, and you don’t even want to look at Trent to figure out what he’s thinking about.

And you definitely don’t want to care about what Trent is thinking about when the door opens and Angela comes stumbling out. She dances with the two of you for a few seconds before plopping down beside Trent, in the very seat you were in just seconds before. You can’t help it, you glance in his direction and his eyes are already on yours, stoic but glimmering.

“He’s gonna kill me,” Jude whispers loudly in your ear. You’re almost sure that Trent heard him, but you can’t even think about it because Jude’s body stumbles forward. You try to grip onto his shoulder to steer him upright but his cup goes flying in between the two of you, spilling dramatically on both of your chests.

Gosh, how full was his cup to drench your entire blouse?

“Jude,” you groan.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly. He lets go and plops down on the couch, groaning as he holds his head in his hands. Looking down at your blue blouse, you notice just how thin the material of it is and quickly shield your exposed chest with your arm. The girls' eyes widen as they turn looking for something to cover you with. Before you can even think, Trent stands up and brushes your arm and back, motioning you towards the door.

“I—”

“I can give you my jacket.”

You nod, ignoring Angela’s sulking, relieved to get some kind of solution for your problem. Trent intertwines your hands together and leads you to his room—again. His thumb brushing against the back of your hand doesn’t go unnoticed by you, you even look down at where they conjoined. The swooning feeling in your chest comes back.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mutter as you finally reach his bedroom, your arm still splayed across your chest as he closes his door.

He chuckles, “Well Angela does exist so…”

“Trent!” you scold. He digs through his closet and pulls down a dark red hoodie. He slips off the hanger and hands it to you.

“I can um—dry your clothes if you’d like.”

You cringe, “That’s even more mortifying.”

Trent shrugs, “I can be discreet, darling. Plus, why are you suddenly shy after you were practically spitting out everything that was on your mind earlier?”

You snatch the hoodie from his hand, “Earlier my nipples weren’t peeking out of my shirt, Trent.”

He smirks, stifling a chuckle out of his mouth and nodding his head, “I guess that’s true.”

You smack his shoulder with his hoodie and go into his restroom. Only in there did you notice just how ridiculous you looked with the giant stain on your blouse that drenched you. You attempt to squirm out of the shirt but only then do you remember about the stupid few buttons on the back of the shirt. There was no way you were going to be able to twist the shirt without popping a few strands. You grumble, knowing you needed Trent’s help.

“Trent?” you call out softly. There’s some rustling on the other end of the door before he hums out a response. “Do you mind unbuttoning my shirt?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” There was no other way to hold the shirt up without it being on the verge of completely falling once those buttons unclasped. You held onto it for dear life as Trent opened the door hesitantly.

Trent’s fingers tentatively grab a hold of the first button. His fingers feel too big to maneuver such a tiny button out of its threaded loop. The lack of air in the restroom doesn’t seem to help either. He felt like he was choking, as if he was holding onto his breath as he focused on the task and not your bare back.

“Almost done?” you ask, trying to control your shuddering breath. You hoped your back wasn’t a replica of your arms that were now clad in goosebumps.

“I can’t even get the first button,” he spat. His voice was curt, almost agitated that it made you grow a little impatient because he had been trying for a while now. But his voice also seemed to resonate in your ear drums, reverberating back and forth because of how close he was to you. The warmth of the room felt palpable. “My fingers are too big.”

“Just focus harder,” you grit, getting hot.

“That’s what I’m doing.”

You let out a shaky sigh, it catches Trent’s attention and he tries to shudder it away but it only makes his hands shake even more. He rests his palms against your back and it makes you squirm, not expecting the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“Sorry,” he rasps, finally getting his hands to stop shaking and unclasp the first button. “Thank fuck.”

Your knees buckle at his words, him dropping one of his hands to settle onto your waist and stabilize you. Your hips bump into the front of his and you immediately regain balance. His fingertips burn into your waist as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Think I’m still a little tipsy.”

Trent snorts, “I don’t think so.”

“How would you know?”

His hands go back to work on the second button, “Think you sobered up quite quickly once they mentioned Johnny. Or,” he stops talking and his fingers still, “once Angela walked out. Don’t think I didn’t see your face.”

“I was dancing with Jude, I didn’t even notice her.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. He makes sure to snicker right into your ear, “Did you forget you danced with her too?”

The last button unclasps and you immediately feel it loosen against your back. You turn around, still clutching onto your shirt, as he wears a lousy smirk. He had caught you in a lie but you weren’t going to let him win just yet.

“Like I said, I’m still a little tipsy I can’t remember.”

Trent’s one-sided grin only grows and his eyes darken from amusement to something else that you can’t quite read. You weren’t familiar with the different emotions of him, only certified in his one stoic facial expression but this was an entirely different person you were meeting tonight. One that you definitely enjoyed. This was the most you ever heard him talk.

His head falls down, glancing at the mirror and then back at you, “Alright then, darling, whatever you say.”

“You’re such an ass,” you whine, pushing him out the door with one hand.

He laughs, “Sober!”

You roll your eyes, wishing the last bit of alcohol gave you the confidence to withstand his gaze. Usually you could banter with him any way you wanted but for whatever reason you felt like you were going to say the wrong thing by accident tonight. You had already slipped up about his eyes and god you hated how you could feel that you were going to say something more. Something potentially less innocent than the color of his eyes. He had a tendency to make you not want to bite your tongue in general.

His hoodie smells a lot like him as you pull it over him, earthy and piney. You bunch your shirt in your hands, and glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before you open the door. Trent leans against his dresser, slipping his phone back into his pocket once you step out.

“Ready to go back out?”

You bite onto your cheek. You weren’t. You seriously didn’t like the way Angela was riling you up for whatever reason. Trent had already said they weren’t dating, shut that idea down quickly but it…gnawed at you? You weren’t even sure what you were feeling.

“No way,” he whispers.

You look up at him and he has an open-mouthed smile on him, was he shocked? But he also looked like he just figured out how to do a hard math problem. Your eyebrows pinch, “What?”

“I didn’t think it was true, but—I heard you talking to Maddie on the balcony when she asked if you were jealous. You lied to her, didn’t you?” There’s a smile on his face that’s he trying to control, as if he were going to burst into a shit-eating grin so wide but he was holding himself back.

Immediately you shake your head, denying, “What?”

And there it is, the laugh. His head falls back too. “Bah, c’mon, don’t try to lie to me now.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said. His voice drops down an octave, “There’s nothing going on between Angela and I.”

“Why would I be jealous of you and her?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know either.”

Seriously, how could he just hear every damn whisper? There was no way you were going to dig yourself out of this. And quite frankly you were a little fed up, from Jude spilling his drink on you to Trent taking forever in the restroom to undo your shirt. Your patience had run thin.

You groan, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms, “It was the alcohol.”

He chuckles, stepping towards you, “You usually yap, alcohol or none.”

You roll your eyes again, “I was jealous because of how easy it was for you to talk to everyone except me.”

He tilts his head, taking another step towards you until you have to tilt your head to look up at him. His smile is sincere, “We’re talking now. Even if you’re lying just a little, I’ll take it.” He holds up his first two fingers with a small gap between them.

The giggle from your throat can’t help but to escape, despite it being hoarse. His eyebrows barely furrow as he notices it but doesn’t comment on it. Thank goodness.

“Besides,” he continues, “it’s much easier for you to hear me in here than it was out there.” His hands wrap around the hood, pulling it over your head and squeezing the strands together so it tightens around you.

“Trent!” you yell, you only make out the bottom half of his body and it suddenly comes a lot closer. He’s laughing as he nudges you against the wall, but backing off so you don’t feel trapped.

You pull off the hoodie once you find your balance, “What was that for?”

He shrugs so nonchalantly that you push him back. He stumbles onto his bed with the widest smile you had ever seen from him. It looked so unnatural as it was aimed towards you that it made your cheeks feel more incredibly hot.

“Wow,” you breathe out. His eyebrows shoot up, amusing you once again. But those doe eyes catch your attention. They were so expressive without effort and it damn near put you in a trance. A trance that would’ve led you straight into his lap had you two not felt heavy steps coming upstairs.

Trent looked immediately to the door and noticed it wasn’t locked, leaping off his bed and in a few long strides he was locking it. He then turned off the overhead light and used his phone’s screen as a source of light. You hadn’t realized his blinds were open until the moon casts its shadow down into the room.

“What the fuck?” You let out the breath you held after watching him run. There’s a sudden knock on the door and the handle jiggles but it doesn’t bulge.

“Trent, I have to piss man,” Jude pleads. Trent presses his finger to his lips as he glances towards you. You would be lying if this didn’t somehow send adrenaline through you. He was seriously hiding in his bedroom from Jude of all people.

There’s another frantic knock, and then the shoving of the door. Jude’s groan sounds so loud, “You fuckin’ twat.” It’s the last thing he says before he walks down the corridor and Trent chuckles quietly.

“You’re cruel,” you tease, walking towards him. He still hadn’t turned the light back on.

“All the other rooms are open,” he shrugs. “He’ll be fine.” He opts for turning on a lamp, turning it on the lowest setting and it’s so dim that it might as well be off.

As he walks towards his bed, he stops, turning back to you. His eyes narrow slightly as you put your hands on your hips, “What now?”

“You said Johnny and you were just close?” he starts. Of course. “But the picnic?”

“Friends can’t just go on picnics?”

He chuckles, “Did he know that?”

“Well he does now. There’s nothing between us. I didn’t like him like that, the girls just always teased us.”

Trent nods, satisfied with your answer, “Okay, enough about him.”

“Please,” you reply meekly.

“You’re the one who usually talks, maybe you should yap more.”

“Quit saying I yap.”

“Yapping about the weather, about class, about—”

You walk over to his bed and throw a pillow at his head. He goes splatting onto his side, you not realizing just how hard you actually held onto the pillow once you swung. Oops…

But he’s up in an instant, on his feet and pushing you back until you hit your back against the wall. A small ‘oomph’ slips out of your mouth that he lets go of your wrists, looking down at your face with a flash of worry, “Sorry—”

“Asshole.” But god were you so turned on with his chest being merely inches away.

And his face is back, “Oh, you’re okay.”

His watchful gaze looking down at you makes you swallow the slick remark down your throat. Wow. Where were his hands at? And just how far were you from him? It was either his eyes or that stupid useless lamp that made you lose sense of distance.

“Are you…okay?” he rasps. You watch as his throat bobbles as he rakes over your face, making you fight every urge to look away from his hard gaze.

“I’m fine,” you manage. His lip twitches as he glances down, it’s only then did you realize that his hand managed to go around your waist. You didn’t know how you didn’t feel it, especially because it went entirely underneath the hoodie. His bare hand was touching the skin of your back and your throat bubbled as he took his time slipping it out. Do not make a sound. Do not make a sound.

You didn’t have to make a sound to realize his movement awakened every fiber in your body. The hoodie suddenly felt ridiculously hot, like walking outside in the middle of summer with it on. If you weren’t leaning on the wall, you would’ve lost your balance right then and there.

And just as Trent’s fingertips are about to let go of you entirely, he lets them stray. In reality, they only touched such a small space of you but they felt suffocating, as if they were engulfing the entirety of you. Exploring you without hesitancy.

For whatever reason, whatever luck that wasn’t on your side, his lamp began to flicker until it went out completely. And just like that, a sliver of the moon’s light shined on his face.

“Did that—”

“It does that,” he mutters. “It’s old, have to give it a good tap.”

“Oh.”

Words escaped you as you felt him lean a little more into you. The sudden brain that never stopped thinking of a witty response was quiet, only thinking about how close he was. How his eyes seemed so tender. The softest they had ever been before. And gah! Even when there’s so little light his eyes look so brown.

“You had on a nice shirt.”

“Everyone saw my nipples,” you say, wanting to slap your hand over your mouth. Why did you choose to say those words at this very time?

He laughs, it’s gruff and it only goes in one ear, giving you goosebumps on that side. “Well, not everyone.” His head dips closer to your ear. “Only the girls saw them.”

“Then how did you know,” you look up at him as he reels his head back slowly. His fingertips slide to the back of your hip, finally putting his palm down and you stifle what might be a moan. Seriously, you need to get yourself together.

“It wasn’t rocket science to put two and two together, darling.”

And you couldn’t do it anymore. There were so many words and so little touch shared in the time that you’ve been pressed against the wall. You guide his free hand to your waist and settle yours around his neck. There is a brief look of shock in his eyes but it goes away as quickly as it appeared.

His breath hitches as your fingertips scratches the nape of his skin. His eyes flicker down to your lips and if he wasn’t going to make the first move, then hell you might as well go for it. Your hand slips down to his chest, balling up the white fabric and pulling him down. His lips crash onto yours feverishly, his breathing heavy as he pulls you closer to him.

You aren’t expecting to feel him through his jeans when your hips clash, so the gasp that leaves your mouth is unrestrained. God. Your hands are slipping down his chest and finding the hem of his pants but it’s so dark, the moon only shining on his face. His lips graze your neck as he squirms once you press your palm against him. His teeth sink into the skin near your shoulder as you pull on the button of his pants.

Before you could unbutton them, he pries your hands off of them and raises them over your head, pinning them down with just one hand. Did he have to look so hot doing that? You couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth, him smirking as he pressed his hips further into you. He was so hard that you wondered if he was in pain, and how quickly you could slither out of his grasp and relieve him.

But he pulls back, and the frown you make is by instinct. He brings down your hands slowly to your side and you frown even harder, “Why did you stop?”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m not drunk.”

“Walk in a straight line then,” he jokes, tugging the hem of the hoodie towards him.

You roll your eyes, a grin overtaking your scowl as you let him pull you towards the bed. You were so turned on it was ridiculous. He sits down on the bed and you can make out his head turning in your direction, waiting for you to join him.

“No more teasing,” you warn, unbuttoning your pants and shrugging them off. “Just sex.” You don’t even wait for him to pull you down, you settle in his lap as if you had been in this position many times before with him.

His eyebrows rise at your bright pink underwear, but he’s more amused with your words, “What’s the magic word?”

“Trent,” you grip onto his shoulders tightly as he laughs. His hands settle on your hips, teasing the area of where your panties met the hoodie. “Please.”

“Okay.”

The smile that raises his cheeks is so charming that you can’t help but to gently pinch them. But you kiss him as if he’s withholding coffee from you. So rabidly that he had to fall back onto stretched elbows to keep himself up. He dragged himself up to the center of the bed and pulled you with him.

The two of you groaned at the friction of your hips once you sat back down on him. His hands slipped underneath your—his—hoodie and immediately settled on your hard nipples. They had been bruising against the fabric of the hoodie, so the moan you let out was pure relief as he squeezed them. Your hand already wrapped around the length of him through his boxers.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hiking up his hips and shimming out of his pants. His grip is tight as he then peels off the hoodie, leaving you exposed but it doesn’t take long for him to find your breasts with his mouth and hand. And of course his other hand wandered and teased the hem of your underwear. His knuckles brushed against your clit through the fabric that you didn’t have any shame sinking further onto them and rocking your hips.

Once he flipped the two of you over, his touch was careful but firm. Very attentive to the sweet sounds of your arousal and the whimpers of every touch. He wasn’t shy about being vocal either. Especially when it came to his ragged breathing, the feeling of his breath creating goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

The feeling of his cold chain sliding down your body put you into a frenzy that you almost felt bad for how hard your thighs clamped around his head but he didn’t seem to mind.

And that chain continued to bounce against you with each thrust and that alone had you wrapping your legs around him and pulling him down to kiss you. You could feel his lips turning into a sloppy smile that it made you laugh as you pecked his cheek afterward.

Even if his face radiated with innocence, his hands sliding down to give you one more tease sure didn’t. You squirmed once his thumb landed on your clit and sure as hell wasn’t ready for the sudden pinch of your nipple with his other.

“Oh my god—” his lips slid down your jaw and neck, sucking on the supple skin. You didn’t even care if he marked you, your attention so far gone because between the feeling of him so deep inside you, his thumb circling your clit, fingers alternating between a pinch and a ghost of a touch around your nipple, and his warm mouth and breath on your neck, you weren’t even sure what to focus on. It all felt so unreal.

And yet somehow he held you as you rode out the numbing feeling taking over you. Vision clouding as you felt him slip out of you as he tenderly massaged your breasts and then let out a small gasp as he came as well. He nuzzled his lips onto your cheek and neck, breath heavy as he collapsed beside you. He pulled you closer to him and then ran his hands over your thighs in a soothing manner.

God. You almost wanted to cry at how euphoric you felt but there was no way you were going to let go of that much pride in one night.

His eyes flutter open as you already look back at him. He lets out a shy laugh, “Didn’t expect you to be so quiet.”

“I was shocked the entire time.”

“In a good or bad way?”

“In the best way.”

He beams, pulling you closer to him and kissing your forehead, “Seeing you in my fucking hoodie. I couldn’t control myself anymore.”

“I was waiting for you to rip it off of me,” you sassed.

“I knew I should’ve bent you over in the restroom and fucked the brat out of you.”

“I’d love to see you try,” you encouraged and he picked his head up, surely offended, but you were on the tallest cloud that you didn’t care. “Plus, your hands were shaking so much that I don’t think—”

Trent shut you up with his lips. His hands taut around your neck as he shushes you in the way he should’ve done hours ago.

Come Monday morning, you were starting to grow restless staring at the empty seat next to you. Trent had a minute to spare before class started and he should’ve been here a minute ago. The two of you texted over the weekend, nothing spectacular but nothing too boring. You hoped you hadn’t bothered him with too many words and scared him away. Maybe your watch was a minute behind—

A white cup suddenly lands harshly in front of you, a strong hand wrapped around it until they let go. The smell of coffee seeps out of it so strongly that it itches your brain. You look over to see Trent, a frantic but bashful smile on his face as he sits down, never taking his eyes off of you. He has his own cup as well.

“That rain, such a sudden downpour,” he chimes. “So heavy that I almost ran late.”

You can’t help that gleeful smile that stretches all the muscles of your cheeks that you don’t know existed; you must’ve look crazy, you are sure. Every facial muscle hurt in that second but you don’t care as you wrap your arms around him. He laughs as he pecks your cheek and then gives your waist a squeeze.

It was sunny outside. No chance of rain or even a cloud.

---

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