#Liverpool football club

[verhaeghes]

"watching sports is so fun!" for YOU maybe. me, im about to slam my head through a brick wall over here

[insidekatmind]

A blues girlfriend- Virgil van Dijk

wearning: +18,smut

request: yes.

You are sitting on the couch at home, snuggled up next to Virgil van Dijk. The atmosphere is quiet, the sound of the television in the background is barely perceptible. His presence was always reassuring, a mix of strength and sweetness that made you feel protected. He has his arm resting on your shoulder, his fingers slowly marking circles on the fabric of your shirt.

You turn slightly to look at him, the sculpted profile of his face is illuminated by the light of the screen. He looks down at you with a smile just touched, one of those smiles that always make you get butterflies in your stomach.

"Virgil," you start out in an innocent tone, but the mischievous gleam in your eyes does not escape him.

"Hm?" he answers without taking his eyes off you, curious.

"Could you... play badly against Arsenal?" you ask in a soft voice, almost as if you were proposing the most logical thing in the world. Hold a grin, knowing what his reaction will be.

Slowly, his right eyebrow rises. He looks at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, and for a moment there is only silence. Then he tilts his head to the side, his gaze becomes tighter and more penetrating.

"Wait, wait... what did you say?" he asks, his voice low and a hint of jealousy that shines through behind the jesting tone.

You shrug with an innocent expression, but you can’t hold back your smile.

"You know, if Liverpool loses to Arsenal, Chelsea has a better chance of getting back on the board. It’s not a big sacrifice, is it?" Add, touching his chest with fingers in an innocent and provocative gesture at the same time.

He stares at you intensely, his gaze is now deeper. He moistens his lips with his tongue and then shakes his head, letting out a brief incredulous laugh.

"Ah, so is that it? you’re more supportive of Chelsea than you are of me?" He replies with a calm voice, but his dark eyes hold you captive, full of silent jealousy that he had never openly admitted.

"Come on, baby, you know I’m a big fan of Chelsea," you say, putting your head against his shoulder. "That’s not new."

"I know," he replies slowly, his voice more raucous. He turns slightly, so that he looks you straight in the eye. "But that doesn’t mean I like it."

Feel his arm clench around you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder gives you a jolt. Your heart beats faster.

"Oh, are you jealous?" you ask, challenging him with a funny smile.

"Maybe a little," he admits with a slight grin, hid lips dangerously close to yours. "I don’t like it when you’re not rooting for me. Makes me think you don’t support me as well as you should."

"Oh, poor baby," you joke, trying to keep a defiance tone, but your voice goes down unconsciously. "Do I have to cheer for you when you play against my team?"

"Yes, that’s what I’m saying," he replies with a confident smile, his voice getting lower and more seductive. "You’re mine, aren’t you? Then you must cheer for me. Period."

You don’t have time to answer. Before you can open your mouth, he leans over you and kisses you with an overwhelming passion. His lips move with a decided sweetness, and the warmth of his kiss envelops you like a flame. A big hand slips behind your neck, fingers sink gently into your hair, locking you in that delicate but authoritative grip.

Your breath is broken, and your mind is empty instantly. The awareness of what you were trying to do disappears under the pressure of his lips against yours. Every logical reasoning gives way to that feeling of warmth that runs through you all.

Virgil interrupts the kiss for a moment, his eyes burning with intensity as he stares at you.

"I told you so," he whispers in his deeper voice than before. "I come before Chelsea."

You’re short of breath, warm cheeks, and your answer is a whisper you can barely utter.

"You are unbearable," murmurs, the eyes lost in his, the heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes, but I’m your unbearable," he counters with a triumphant grin, leaving you speechless.

You stare at him, trying to catch up, but the smile that lights his face makes you lose any desire to counter. You already know he won, and he knows better than you.

"So," he adds, tongue-licking as if he was still enjoying the kiss, "I will play against Arsenal. And not only will I play... but I’ll do everything to win. And you know what? When I score, my first thought will be you. My girl who cheers for Chelsea."

"Ah, you’re unbearable!" you exclaimed, laughing as you slap a light punch on his chest.

"You’ve said it before," he replies with a smile full of arrogance and affection at the same time. He holds you closer to him, his arms wrap you with that sure and stable force that you have always loved in him.

"I come before Chelsea, remember that," he whispers to your face and then kisses you again

The kiss becomes more passionate as Virgil explores your mouth with his tongue and you groan.

With a fluidity that leaves you breathless, Virgil lays you down on the couch gently, his big strong hands guiding you with sweetness and determination. It makes you lie down with a slowness that feels like safety and control. His body moves over yours with the grace of a sure predator of its prey. His eyes follow your every movement, his gaze burns with an intensity that makes you spin your head.

"Now don’t run," he whispers in that husky voice that makes your soul vibrate. His lips bend in a smile that drives you crazy, a promise and a challenge together.

His hands slowly caress you, sliding down your hips with a delicacy that contrasts with the strength of his movements. It keeps you still, but at the same time it makes you feel free. The beat of your heart accelerates, every sense is concentrated on him, on his touch, on every breath you feel against your skin.

"You’re too stubborn," he whispers against your lips, his warm breath tickling you. "But I like it that way."

And then he kisses you. But this time it’s different. It’s not a sudden or impetuous kiss. It’s slow, deep, studied. His lips move against yours with a precision that makes you lose your breath. Every second that passes, the world around you vanishes. There is no more television in the background, there is no more dim light in the room. It’s just you two.

His hands caress your face, thumbs trace little circles on your cheeks. Hi8s touch is so sweet that you almost cry. Yet there is a strength in that gesture, a silent promise. He holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and at that moment you feel just like that.

Feel the weight of his body against yours, not too heavy, but enough to make you feel protected, safe. His lips move more now, and your breath is mixed with his. Your fingertips run along his broad shoulders, tracing the line of his muscles. Every corner of his body is carved to perfection, and it seems almost unreal that it’s all yours.

"Tell me," he whispers against your lips, interrupting the kiss for just a moment. "Who comes first, me or Chelsea?" His voice is full of arrogant confidence, but his eyes are full of expectation. It’s not just a question, it’s a challenge.

Pretend to think about it, tilting your head slightly and biting your lip to hold a smile. "Let’s see..." Jokes, but you do not in time to finish the sentence that his lips return to claim you, more hungry than before.

"Wrong answer," he whispers against your mouth before kissing you again, and this time it’s more insistent, deeper. You find yourself letting go completely, your hands clinging to his back as the kiss becomes more intense. There is no Chelsea, no Premier League ranking. There is only Virgil, with his strength and his sweetness fused into one overwhelming embrace.

When he broke off the kiss, he turned you on your stomach and pulled out your pants and underwear leaving you naked in front of him, Virgil began to strip himself and sucked his dick on his hands to then rub you on your entrance making you groan.

You tried to push your hips back to feel more friction but he blocked you. " do the good blues" he said mocking you and then with a quick blow he put his dick inside of you.

You cried a whimper and your whole body felt weak for a moment. He grunted feeling you tight and took a handful of your hair to arch your back against his chest and started fucking you making you scream moaning.

You lowered your head on your shoulders, while leaning against his body. He looked at you and smiled when he saw your fucking face with his mouth open and kissed you ruddy as he kept fucking you.

You moaned even louder feeling his power and how he was filling you with his cock. "Chelsea comes first, huh?" he whisper to your ear, then nibble playfully on your lobe and you groan without giving him an answer.

Virgil put his hand on your pussy and started to insert a finger into your pussy and made it move as he began to increase his thrusts even faster.

You groaned, focusing on your pleasure and Virgil began to attack your neck with bites and kisses. " Answer me when I ask you a question" he said and gave you a push that made you bend on your legs on the couch.

He started to fuck you without stopping and you were screaming with pleasure his name. He grunted as you felt that you were close. "That’s fine," you whispers with a short breath as he is still fucking you. "You come first."

A triumphant smile lights up his face. "I know," he says, with that arrogance that drives you crazy. His lips touch your neck, leaving a trail of light kisses that make you shiver. "And I’ll remind you of it every time you try to forget it." He continued giving you a last shot by making you cum on his cock and he kept hitting you until he cummed inside of you.

"a blues girl who gets cum in her pussy held by a player of the Liverpool, that bad girl" he said jokingly.

I pull his dick out and you whimpered about the loss of contact. Virgil sat on the couch trying to catch his breath and you crawled over to him kissing him and he hugged you.

"You’re mine, don’t forget it" whispered.

[planetpedri]

To say hello — Trent Alexander-Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seeing your ex was no fun thing, but sitting beside him on a two hour flight was even worse. And you realize, to say ‘hello’ was to allow so much more.

Word count: 2k+

Disclaimer/s: Slight angst , hopeful/happy ending.

A/N: Nobody wants him the way I do.

The first time you’d seen Trent after your breakup was on a flight to Paris. You were nearly late to your plane. Traffic had delayed your planned arrival, then the lines were horrific, and you’d had to run across the whole airport just to get to your gate on time. Luckily, you got in with five minutes to spare.

Quickly finding your first class seat, you scan the rows. 1B.. 2B.. 3B.. oh.

Your heart sunk.

His seemingly did too, all the color draining from his face as he processed just who you were. He choked out your name, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“That’s my seat.” You mumble, motioning to the window seat. There was such a little chance of this ever happening, but of course with your luck it did.

Trent unbuckles and stands from his seat to allow you out of the isle, his eyes staying trained on you the whole time. It’d been well over a year since the two of you had seen each other, so he was simply taking in all your differences.

An hour passed, and neither of you talked. You’d forcefully kept your legs leaning against the side of the plane, your whole body shifting away from him. Trent on the other hand, had played it off as cool as possibly by sitting normally and watching a movie on the screen provided. He couldn’t help the few glances he stole your way, but then again, neither could you.

Eventually, when the food came, you were forced to sit normally, that’s when Trent spoke to you for the first time.

“Hello.” He finally sighs, playing with his food.

“Hey.” You reply, taking a bite to focus on anything but the awkward silence that followed.

Trent glanced your way, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “What are the chances?”

“Trent.” You huff, “i’m trying to eat.” You didn’t even have an appetite. He seemed to have that effect on you. Every time you were reminded of him, you couldn’t eat for hours. Whether it was from the longing to see him again, or the hatred that bubbled within you, you weren’t all too sure.

The Scouser didn’t seem to care, as he continued talking to you for the rest of the flight. Of course, you eventually entertained it, because the more you talked, the less he did. Trent was always a listener, and when he did, he kept his mouth shut.

Finally, the plane landed and you made your hasty escape. Trent didn’t even have a chance to call after you, to say the things he’d been trying to gain the courage to tell you for months. You were gone.

That night, lying in his hotel overlooking the beautiful city of love, Trent couldn’t hold it in. He’d dialed your number, refilling his glass in the process.

You pick up with a low groan, half asleep as you speak. “It’s midnight, Trent. Go to sleep.”

“I miss you, and I know I messed up.” He sighs, not even giving you a moment to process what he was saying before he continues. “I’m sorry.”

There’s shuffling on his end, and you hear the ice clinking into the sides of a glass. Thats when you register the slur in his accent. Annoyance grows within you. These were drunken thoughts, they didn’t mean anything.

“You still have my number saved.” Another beat of silence where he whispers out your name, “say something.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.” You don’t deny it because yes, you did. In the year since your break up, you had failed to get yourself to the point of deleting his existence. You didn’t know why, but the thought of erasing his once meaningful presence was hard to do.

“Good night, Trent.” And with that, you hung up, sinking into your pillow with a soft exhale.

The summer had passed, and in that time you hadn’t heard from Trent again. Clearly, that night in Paris had been nothing but a drunken mistake. A mistake that left you reliving every moment with him. In the three years you’d dated, it had taken three months to relive all your best memories. For three months, he was all you could think about.

Trent hadn’t even attempted to get ahold of you, maybe out of shame, maybe because he simply didn’t care. You were beginning to think rejecting him that night was the worst decision you’d ever made.

Now, driving through the rugged English roads, you couldn’t control the way your fingers slid across your phone’s screen, dialing the number you had engraved into your mind.

It had only dialed for a count of three, before the sleepy hum of your name was heard. “‘Something wrong?” He asks, exhaustion clear in the way he spoke, but alongside it was concern. It was like all those months ago, but the roles had been reversed.

“Hello.” You finally get out, “I miss you, too.”

Trent doesn’t chuckle, he doesn’t sigh, he doesn’t grunt. He does wake up fully, though, sitting up straight in his bed. “Where are you?”

“Uhm, somewhere near fifth and chord? I’m not too sure..”

“Come over?” His voice holds a hint of pleading, and you were weaker than ever.

“Do you still live in the same apartment?” You ask, already turning to make your way there instinctively, assuming he hadn’t moved in the year you’d broken up.

You had imagined the small smile growing on his face as he heard the blinker, you could practically hear it in his voice. “Yeah, you can let yourself in.”

It’s your turn to smile, “do you seriously still leave your key above the door? Trent, how many times do I have to tell you how dangerous that is?”

He’d lied, of course. He just missed that scolding tone in your voice, the one filled with amusement but genuine care.

“I’m joking!” He laughs, “i’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Once you’d reached his apartment, and long since hung up, you give yourself a few moments to think about what you were doing. This was a stupid idea. He was your ex. You weren’t supposed to allow these things to happen.

Opening the door, you hesitantly make your way inside. It was clean, surprisingly. He hadn’t always been this tidy when you were dating, so it was a pleasant surprise. You slip off your shoes and set your purse on one of the hooks.

“Trent?” You call out, walking through the kitchen into the living room, and down the hall toward his bedroom.

He opens the door, his eyes darting across your face as if he was trying to assure himself you were really there. “Hello.” He says softly, opening the door wider to invite you in.

You don’t respond, your skin crawling by simply being in his presence again. Walking into his bedroom, your eyes trace the small changes, other than the lack of your things, it hadn’t changed much. Trailing your fingers across his desk, you pause, eyes finding their way back to his closet.

Your spot there was still untouched. Empty. He hadn’t filled it in with his own clothes, that you knew he needed. Trent had an excess of clothes, he always needed more space, yet he never touched your side.

Your eyes flicker to his, and he seemed to catch what you were thinking. “I didn’t think it’d last this long.” He admits.

Pursing your lips, you nod, although it didn’t make sense. You’d been broken up for well over a year now, so that wasn’t necessarily an excuse.

You found your way to his bed, slowly sitting down on it. Trent watches from afar, still leaning against the wall a few feet from his door. He takes careful note of your every move, every expression.

“So, now what?” You finally ask the question that was weighing on both of your minds as you play with the comforter.

Trent’s quiet, not knowing how far he should push this. “Stay the night, it’s late. We can talk tomorrow.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “no silly shit. Just sleeping.” You point at him accusatorially, which elicits a laugh from the man.

“Wouldn’t dream of pulling any ‘silly shit’.”

“I need pajamas.” You huff, pushing yourself off the bed and wadding towards his closet. “And—“

“Extra toothbrushes are under the sink, along with makeup remover.” He grins, cutting you off.

Rolling your eyes, you take a tee shirt from his closet. “You’ve been waiting for this day. Or, oh lord. Trent, have you been preparing for other girls?” You feign hurt, clasping a hand over your heart.

Trent leans against the doorframe of the walk in closet, grinning down at you, but a hint of sincerity flashes across his face. “I definitely wouldn’t dream of that.”

You try not to let the clear relief show on your face, but you couldn’t stop the twitch of your lips. “Interesting.” You nod, ducking under his arm as you make your way toward the bathroom.

Like a lost puppy, Trent follows you there too. “And you?” He asks, eyebrows lifted curiously.

“Turn around first.” You motion with your finger for him to turn around, which he does so with zero hesitance. While changing into the shirt, you finally answer. “There’s been one guy.”

Despite the ache in his heart, he nods in understanding. “Who?”

“He’s not important. It only lasted a month, if even that.” You shrug, “you can turn around.”

He does so, doing his best not to feel the satisfaction of your words and the fact that you were wearing his clothes, not that other guys. You were still his.

“A month? Only?” He asks smugly, moving toward the sink beside you.

Grabbing the extra toothbrush and makeup remover, you glance at him through his reflection in the mirror. “Unfortunately, he just wasn’t you.” The admission held so much weight, but it was the truth.

“That’s unfortunate… for him.” Trent hums. The bathroom is filled with a comfortable silence as you go about your nightly routine, a familiar feeling forming within you.

How many nights had you two done this exact routine together? How many nights had you felt so completely at home with Trent beside you? How many nights had it not ended it an argument, rather with you laying in his arms as you both fell asleep with nothing but love in your hearts?

With a barren face, you lean against the sink, your hip being the only thing keeping you steady. “Why are we doing this? It’s been a year and a half.”

“Because it’s what’s right.” He answers honestly, “and it was a long time coming.”

You couldn’t argue with that. You’d fallen asleep dreaming about being in his arms once again. There wasn’t a singular time in which you’d wished to be with anyone but Trent.

As the two of you both make your way back to Trent’s bed, you let yourself feel the things you’d denied yourself for so long. A small smile growing on your lips when you climb into the bed and Trent pulls you into his side, tugging the covers over the two of you.

With your head resting in the crook of his neck, you inhale his scent, the smell bringing you back to when everything was perfect between the two of you. This was where you belonged.

It didn’t take long for sleep to consume you, but Trent stayed awake for a little longer. He needed the reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, that you were here, in his arms, for good.

Then he fell asleep with a smile, and everything was okay again. Because this was what he’d longed for. Despite all the time spent apart, it all seemed worth it as long as you were with him, even if it was only momentary.

You were still his, and he as forever yours.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Feel free to lmk if you want tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: guyssss!!!! ur support means the world, the sun, the moon, the solar system to me like everything!!! some of the comments u leave got me feeling like Y/N fr, big mwahs for u all! I made this part a little longer as an apology for making you wait for so long!

Warnings: more fluff, Trent slowly starting to open up methinks, angst, pressure, high-stress environment, very slow burn

Word Count: 3.1k words (11 mins reading avg)

…

You were seated at your desk, carefully closing the backs of the picture frame. You smiled as you secured the last clip, the image now safely enclosed behind the glass. It was a small comfort, one you could look at during the demanding days.

Before you had the chance to prop it up on your new cabinet, Lee entered with a folder in hand. You left your frame face-down as you stood up, and rounded your desk to greet him.

"Saw your email. Everything okay?"

Lee gave you a quick, apologetic smile as he handed you the folder. "Yeah. Won't be able to make the Man United game this weekend."

He handed you a folder emblazoned with the Man United logo, stuffed with the players' reports.

You raised an eyebrow, more concerned than curious. "That's unlike you. What's come up?"

He leaned against the edge of your desk, folding his arms. "Got to attend a family thing, non-negotiable. But that's not the only reason I'm here."

His tone shifted, more serious now. "I need you to step in and travel with the squad as the on-hand psychologist."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me? But... I mean, I usually handle things from here. Are you sure?"

Lee nodded, his expression firm. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. You've been great with some of the boys so far, and they trust you. This game is going to be intense, and they'll need your support. Plus, it's good for them to have some consistency, especially with me out."

It all made sense, but the reality of it hit hard. You’d only been here for two months, barely building trust through a handful of sessions a week. Now, being thrown into the deep end at Old Trafford for an away game just felt like career suicide.

You bit your lip, the weight of the responsibility starting to settle in. The thought of traveling with the team, being there in the thick of it, was both exciting and daunting.

"I don't know, Lee. What if-" Your voice wavered, playing with the corners of the folder in your hand.

"You'll be fine," he interrupted, his tone reassuring. "You're more than capable. And look, I'll only be a phone call away if you need anything."

You hesitated for a moment, the nerves swirling in your stomach. But deep down, you knew this was a chance you couldn't pass up. Lee believed in you and it was inevitable at one point.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "Sure."

Lee's face broke into a wide grin. "Good. I'll let the gaffer know and I'll make sure everything's arranged for you."

You nodded, watching as he left. The thrill of the weekend was tempered by the gnawing anxiety that you weren't ready, that you were diving headfirst into something you couldn't fully control. Sure, some of the boys had warmed up to you but others were still keeping you at arm's length.

You scoffed to yourself, more like just the one. You were walking a fine line with him and the last thing you wanted was to make things worse. In the heat of the moment, a sentence, an expression, a word could tick someone off.

You couldn't continue your train of thoughts, the folder staring up at you, waiting to be opened. With a steadying breath, you took a seat at your desk again and finally opened it, beginning to read through the reports.

...

The squad and staff gathered at the training ground, the usual pre-match energy heightened by the knowledge that today’s destination was Old Trafford.

You stood off to the side, watching the players mill around as they waited for the coaches to arrive, the hum of conversation and laughter blending with the distant noise of fans outside the gates.

You were trying to keep your own nerves in check, running through mental notes on the players, when Curtis sauntered over, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Bit of a madhouse out there." He said, nodding toward the entrance where the sound of chanting fans was growing louder.

“Just a bit,” you replied with a smile, honestly grateful for the distraction.

He chuckled, giving you a once-over. “You look a little tense. First time heading into enemy territory got you rattled?”

You gave him a mock glare, though the truth behind his teasing made you sigh. “Maybe a little. It’s just.. a lot. Big game, and I’m still getting used to being around everyone, let alone on a match day.”

Curtis leaned against the wall beside you, his expression softening. “I get it. But you’ve been solid with us. We’re glad you’re here, even if some of us” - he raised an eyebrow - “aren’t great at showing it.”

You smirked, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

“Trent?”

He grinned. “Nah, Wataru." You nudged his shoulder with your hand, and Curtis pushed himself off of the wall. His attention was directed back to the team as Arne brought everyone together.

"You're gonna smash it, see you in Manny." He flashed you a smile before jogging back over.

You adjusted your backpack currently slung over your shoulder, glancing up but accidentally catching Trent's eye across the large entryway.

He was standing a little apart from the others, his posture relaxed but with an air of deliberate composure. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, and his usual stoic expression was softened by a hint of curiosity.

His gaze lingered on you longer than usual, more intent and thoughtful.

You offered him a shy smile, unsure of what to expect in return. Almost immediately, his eyes darted away, his expression tightening as he turned his attention back to the team.

A tinge of disappointment settled in your chest, but you didn’t have time to linger on it as the coach pulled into the parking space out front.

“You’ve got this. You’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself, as if it were a mantra, following the backroom staff out of the training ground.

…

The first half had been tightly contested, with neither team managing to score, leaving the game deadlocked at 0-0.

The only real highlight was Trent’s free kick from just outside the box - a powerful shot that flew high, curling away from the goal before soaring over the bar. The away fans held their breath in anticipation, only to exhale in disappointment as the ball missed its mark.

From the sidelines, you watched as Trent’s frustration grew more evident, his usual composure giving way to visible agitation.

Each missed opportunity seemed to fuel his irritation, and it was clear his emotions were beginning to take over.

You sighed as the referee jogged over after a hard tackle. The yellow card was raised high, and Trent’s reaction was a sharp scoff as he walked away, shooting a disdainful side-eye at the player he had just fouled.

The rival fans seized the moment, erupting in cheers and taunts that grew louder and more fervent.

Old Trafford lit up as the referees became hyper-aware of Trent, ready to penalise any further outbursts. Arne’s nervousness was palpable, and the backroom staff were on their feet, counting down to the halfway mark.

Trent was no longer just reacting to the game; he was actively seeking confrontations with the Man United players. His tackles were sharper, his verbal exchanges more heated.

The tension was building to a breaking point, but the halftime whistle blew just in time, bringing a collective sigh of relief from every member of Liverpool’s staff, whether at the training ground or in the stadium.

As you left your seat to head down the tunnel, Trent’s shoulder brushed against yours, his head lowered and skin glistening with sweat.

You noticed Arne watching him closely, his face a mask of concentration and concern, fully aware of how vital Trent was to the team’s strategy - and how disastrous a second yellow card could be.

...

As the halftime break drew to a near close, the tension in the dressing room was palpable. The players sat on the benches, catching their breath and nursing the aches of the first half.

Arne stood at the front, his arms crossed as he delivered his instructions, his tone firm but calm. You could see the focus in their eyes, the determination to turn the game around in the second half.

Just as he'd finished his tactical breakdown, he turned to you, walking over.

"I want you to say a few words," he said, his voice low.

"About?" You asked quietly, unaware of the boys' wandering eyes glancing between the two of you.

"Keeping their heads in the game. Any insights that might help them stay focused and.. you know, ease off the aggression."

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

The players' attention turned to you as you moved to the centre of the room, a mix of curiosity and expectation in their gazes. It was almost comical - this was the first time many of them were hearing you speak in a professional setting.

You cleared your throat, giving a quick glance to the clock hung on the wall.

You took a deep breath and began. “I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. We need to ease off on the aggressiveness." Trent, who had been staring at the floor, lifted his head slightly, his eyes now locked on you.

"We’re here to play our best football, to get the result we want and then move on. Allowing anger is only gonna distract you and hurt our performance. When you feel it bubbling up, just walk away and refocus yourself." You made an effort to connect with each player as you spoke, though deep down, you hoped your words would resonate with one in particular.

"Focus on what you can control - your passing, your tackles, your game.” A smirk tugged at Trent's lips before his head dipped again.

You scanned the room, noticing nods of understanding. “If you see a teammate getting heated, help them out."

Another breath, "push them away from the fight, back off, and concentrate on our tactics, not on the referee’s decisions or the United players. Don’t sulk on what went wrong. Learn from it and move on, yeah?"

Arne gave you a nod of appreciation as you wrapped up your little speech. "Alright, let’s make this second half count," you finished, your voice carrying a tinge of determination.

Virgil clapped twice, rallying the team as they stood and prepared to exit the dressing room. “Let’s go!” As they began filing out, you moved to the side to let them pass.

Trent was among the last to leave.

"Write me up next time," he muttered as he walked by, leaning in just enough for you to hear.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his lips before darting back up to meet his gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly composed yourself and responded.

"It was meant for everyone." You lied through your teeth.

He hummed in response, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure," he said, not even glancing back as he walked out, leaving you with the undeniable sense that he knew exactly who your speech had been aimed at.

...

In the second half, Trent seemed lighter on his feet, more focused on the tactical aspects of the game and less caught up in the aggression that had marked his earlier play.

Liverpool had eventually secured a hard-fought 0-1 victory, with Salah scoring the winner from a beautifully timed assist by Trent. The away crowds erupted as the ball hit the back of the net, and the energy from that moment carried through until the final whistle.

As you watched him on the pitch, his frustration giving way to calm determination, you couldn’t help but wonder if your halftime words had played a part in that change.

Even a small part, that was more than enough to make you feel like you were on the right track.

The journey back to the training ground was a short one, the adrenaline from the win still buzzing among the team.

But by the time you arrived, the place had already started to empty out, with most of the team and staff having headed home to celebrate or rest.

The win had been sweet, but the quietness that greeted you at the training ground felt like a peaceful end to a very intense day.

You hadn’t intended to stay at the training ground as late as you did after returning, but with Kaia staying over at a friend’s house and the stack of unwritten reports waiting for your attention, you found yourself at your desk again.

The evening had unfolded into an unexpected work spell as you prepared for the upcoming sessions and tackled the never-ending paperwork.

The soft glow from your new office lamp created a cozy pool of light, the only sounds in the quiet room being the occasional rustle of papers and the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

Starting to nurse a headache, you rubbed your eyes carefully as to not smudge your makeup.

The words of practising what you preached echoed in your mind, working for hours on end without a break was hardly the advice you’d give to anybody.

So, you eventually pushed away from your desk and decided to step outside your office for a walk.

The halls were quiet and mostly vacant as you strolled, letting your mind drift and find a moment of peace.

You made your way to the large glass windows that stretched across both the first and second floors, providing a panoramic view of the training grounds below.

The evening sky was transitioning into deep blues, with the last hints of daylight fading.

Yet your gaze was drawn to a solitary figure on the pitch, illuminated by the few remaining lights.

It was him.

Even from this distance, his form was unmistakable as he set up a line of balls and readied himself for another round of free kicks. Instantly, you were reminded of earlier - his powerful shot that had soared over the bar.

Seeing him out there, still working hard, your shoulders slumped in realisation.

The scene was almost surreal, marked by the quiet dedication of a player refusing to call it a day.

You stood there in complete silence, taking in the sight as if it were a scene from a film - each deliberate movement and focused effort holding your rapt attention.

It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. Alone and immersed in his own world, completely absorbed in his craft without a care for the outside distractions.

Deciding to join him, you headed out of the building and towards the pitch. The evening air was crisp, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

You crossed your arms over your chest, maintaining a respectful distance as you approached. You hoped your presence would neither startle him nor prompt him to leave.

"Mind if I watch?" You asked, keeping your tone light and casual.

Trent glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to the pitch. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but no trace of annoyance.

"Suit yourself, psychologist," he replied, his voice steady. You nodded - guess that was good enough for you.

You watched as he rolled the first ball to his feet, his focus razor-sharp as he stopped it and took a few steps back.

The ball sailed through the air, curving beautifully into the top corner of the net. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

"That was perfect," you said, genuinely admiring his skill.

Trent shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just another shot."

"Give yourself more credit than that. It’s not easy," you countered. "I admire the dedication."

He glanced back at you. “Guess you’d know.”

“Sorry?” You asked, slightly confused.

Another shot.

“The picture in your office. You played once,” he remarked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

You found yourself wondering when he had been in your office to notice the picture, then it clicked. He'd helped you assemble the cabinet where you later placed it.

He must've spotted it in one of the boxes.

You watched as he set up another ball, and somehow, in a way that only Trent could manage, that shot was even better than the last.

You scoffed lightly, dismissing the comparison. “Nowhere near your level, obviously. But you’re right, I guess I can imagine the passion. The pressure.”

You hoped your words were reaching him, echoing the sentiments he'd talked about in so many of his interviews.

He breathed out slowly. "So why psychology?" He asked, bending over to position the next ball.

"Because mental strength is just as important as physical ability," you explained. "I've seen talented players crumble under pressure, and others rise above it. The difference often comes down to how well they manage their minds."

Trent didn’t respond immediately. He set up another shot, this time, it hit the post with a loud thud.

Frustrated, he sighed.

You picked up the ball as it bounced near you, letting it roll between your hands before walking over to him. Once there, you dropped it to the ground, letting it settle by the side of your foot.

When he looked at you, his gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, the kind that made your stomach dip slightly. Your fingers curled into your palms, a subconscious effort to ground yourself as the moment stretched on.

“I know I’m just a stranger,” you began gently, your tone careful and steady.

“But I’m not here to push you and you don’t have to share anything with me. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like talking, we can - no titles, just two people who might understand each other.”

You added with a slight smile. “You’ll never know unless you give it a shot.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider something. You would’ve traded anything in to know what was going through his mind at that moment.

But he shook his head, glancing out over the pitch. “I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” you replied, giving the ball a gentle nudge, just enough to pass it to him. With a nod, you stepped back and turned towards the building, heading inside.

Before entering, you turned around, surprised to find him already watching you. “Thanks for hearing me out, yeah?”

You offered him a final smile before disappearing inside.

Trent’s gaze lingered on your retreating figure for a moment longer before he returned to his practice, a slight shift in his expression as he continued his routine.

...

Part 6

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy

[taasgirl]

girlfriend, or girl that's a friend? - trent alexander arnold

summary: y/n is klopps duaghter and is in a cheeky relationship with mr arnold

liked by virgilvandijk, taylorhinds, maryearps, and 35, 928 others ynusername i bleed red

trentarnold66 I think everyone bleeds red, love

user56783 Y/N is so incredibly real for that second slide

dominikszoboszlai Surely you leak the starting lineup for next week

user01382 Y/N IS THE MOMENTTTTT

user45292 she's so incredibly real

taylorhinds my bb

ynusername TAYLORRRRR

liked by liverpoolfc, virgilvandijk, andyrobertson, and 338, 012 others trentarnold66 New kits are freshhhh #dad

ynusername minecraft?

user69132 y/n saying what everyone's thinking

ynusername why are there more photos of u and my dad than me and him??

liverpoolfc 🔥🔥

liked by alemacallister, missybokearns, sadiomane, and 44, 291 others ynusername yk its bad when gameday is the only day out

user82031 aww soft launch

liverpoolfc Up the Y/N

leahwilliamson god y/n you can tie ur own laces

ynusername can you tie the other one for me

user05682 y/n don't post about liverpool challenge go! liked by ynusername

liked by user66293, user79281, user91320, and 376 others user17320 my honest reaction to THAT photo of trent...

user80131 real

ynusername guys trust I was as shocked as u

user63821 When u find out the deets, let us know

liked by liverpoolfcw, firmino, virgilvandijk, and 3, 892, 036 others liverpoolfc From the archive... Our 2019/2020 Prem win 🤩

trentarnold66 😍😍

ynusername what a day

user60120 there's not one photo where trent looks bad in liked by ynusername

liked by harveyelliot, mosalah, leahwilliamson, and 33, 809 others ynusername atp my phone is harvey's phone too.

harveyelliott The way that this isn't even a fraction of them 🤣

trentarnold66 Where's our selfie @ harveyelliott??

user56283 bless darwin he looks so shocked 😭😭

liked by ynusername, judebellingham, niko, and 549, 730 others trentarnold66 Life as of late.

chunkz My boyyyyy 🔥

user02391 WHO THE FUCKKKKK

ynusername JUMPSCARE

user68293 there is so much in this dump to unpack...

liked by dominikszoboszlai, sadiomane, trentaronld66, and 47, 287 others ynusername king of my heart, body and soul

trentarnold66 woah pda 🚨

ynusername can you stfu???

user69323 y/n and trent soft launching their partners rn i cant

dominikszoboszlai Cuties

liked by virgilvandij, liverpoolfc, ynusername, and 293, 736 others andyrobertson Mi familia

user79213 SORRY???? IS THAT Y/N AND TRENT??

ynusername ANDREW

user02831 huh?

liked by pedri, lottewubbenmoy, darwinnunes, and 66, 872 others ynusername since everyone was so curious @ trentarnold66

trentarnold66 hey baby

user23392 This disgusts me (i'm actually v happy)

andyrobertson IM SORRY

liked by ynusername, dominikszoboszlai, gavi, and 2, 763, 932 others trentarnold66 Finally this soft launch thing is over

trentarnold66 She's so pretty

user61932 the way he commented this on his own post

ynusername 🩷

user76302 my question is - how does klopp feel about this???

put in reqs! i'm working on 'say something pt4' so stay tunned. lmk if you liked this!

[drwzzy]

trent alexander arnold and jude bellingham — england v serbia

[cher-rei]

random texts with trent [ T.A.A ]

notes: just a little something to fill the void because I'm boreeeeddd. masterlist

[formulalfc]

hi!! i was thinking about how Trent or Dominik would hard launch your relationship at a game?!?!?! So like make you wear his jersey and comment how good you look with his name and number on your back and like celebrating with the team after and he decides to post pics of you on Insta and everyone saying how smitten he is for reader <3

Love love love your other fics!!!

i did both because i felt super inspired, hope you like these i got kinda carried away

trent alexander arnold

trent is super shy and isn't big on flaunting what is his but seeing you in his shirt at the game really does something to him. you proudly showing off that you're his in front of everyone and keeping all your attention on him throughout the game has this man going feral. when he meets with you after the game he's wrapping his arms around you and pressing so many kisses all over your face, making you giggle as you congratulate him on the win. on your way out of the game your walking with some of the other lads, talking to them about the game but trent literally only has eyes for you. just watching the way you interact with his friends as you all walk to your cars.

liked by youruser, virgilvandijk, and 1,323,738 others

trentarnold66 big win🔴feels even better knowing my girls in the stands cheering me on

user1 we've lost another girlies

user2 no way trent got a girl before GTA 6 came out

youruser 🥹ur so cute, love u baby

trentarnold66 love u more pretty girl x

virgilvandijk so that's why you played so well today, wanted to impress the missus ;)

user3 they're so cute omg

dominik szoboszlai

oh this man has been waiting to hard launch you guys for ages now. he absolutely hates that guys think your single cause you're all his and he needs to let everyone know. so when you show up at anfield in a liverpool shirt with his name written on your back he figures that's you giving him the all clear. as soon as the game is done he's telling you to come down to the tunnel and wait for him. he gets pulled back for an interview and the interviewer asks him if there was anyone he wanted to dedicate his goal to and he smirks a little before saying it was for his girl who's waiting for him just down the tunnel, and then he just leaves the interview and runs up to you, spinning you around before planting a big kiss on your lips.

liked by youruser, trentarnold66, and 879,367 others

szoboszlaidominik off to go get my reward 😏

user1 no he did not

user2 my guy being horny on the main

youruser baby my dad follows you....

szoboszlaidominik .....oops

youruser love you hot stuff ❤️

szoboszlaidominik love u too baby

ibrahimakonate ur missus is cooler than you

user3 stop they're in love in love

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[pressure-machine]

[szariahwroteit]

FUNGIRL A Trent Alexander-Arnold + Original Character Erotic Series.

Chapter 2

18+ Minors DNI

In the week that saw Trent photographed by paparazzi on a rather intimate date with an emerging model, Amber had gone radio silent. Completely ignoring him was as mature as she was willing to be.

Every message and FaceTime went unanswered; he followed her on Instagram before she promptly blocked him, confident that this time would be the last.

Although Amber understood that he wasn’t looking for anything serious, the fact that he’d stepped out so publicly with a woman felt as though he was claiming her, and in a way, shitting on her.

“Are you going to walk around looking like a sad puppy?” her older sister Natalia smirked empathetically.

Unlike her younger sister, who had left their hometown in Los Angeles to study law in Harvard before moving to London when she was offered a job within one of the most reputable firms in the city, Natalia stayed home in Los Angeles with their parents and younger brother.

By no means was it her proudest moment, but one night Amber officially reached her breaking point. She needed to get the hurt she felt off her chest, and her older sister offered an ear without any judgment.

“Maybe,” Amber pouted as she made her way back into the office, smiling politely at the familiar faces she passed as she returned from her lunch break. 

“You're way too cute to have any man making you feel this way,” Natalia smiled empathetically. 

As Amber made her way back towards her desk, the floor’s receptionist called her name and waved her over. “Amber! You have a delivery,” she said, holding up a medium-sized cardboard box and a small bouquet of pink roses.

Amber’s heart skipped a beat as she approached the reception desk, her mind racing. Could it be from Trent? She quickly squashed that thought, reminding herself of the last week’s events. Still, a flicker of hope ignited within her as she took the flowers and box from the receptionist.

“Who are they from?” Natalia asked curiously, her face contorting into a curious frown on her sister’s phone screen as Amber turned away from the receptionist to make her way over to her desk. 

“I don’t know yet,” Amber replied, carefully removing a small white envelope from the flowers. Inside, she found a white piece of card with something scribbled on the back of it. Turning it over, her heart skipped a beat.

“Call me when you get these. - Trent,” she read aloud, her voice tinged with surprise and a hint of disbelief. The words echoed in her mind, stirring a mix of emotions that she had been trying to suppress. 

“What’s in the box?” Natalia asked, leaning in closer, her curiosity piqued.

Amber carefully set the flowers down on her desk, propped up her phone and opened the box, her heart racing with anticipation. Inside, she found an unmistakable ox-blood box and instantly froze.

“No fucking way!” Natalia gasped into her sister’s ear-pod, her voice barely above a whisper. “He brought you Cartier?”

Amber’s hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid of the jewellery box, revealing a set of beautiful diamond earrings. 

The earrings were absolutely beautiful, dancing against the low lighting of the office floor. As the daughter of a high-powered lawyer and a former beauty queen turned relationship guru and therapist, she knew luxury. Her childhood was one filled with debutante balls and societal engagements. 

But this was different. The diamonds she held in her hand symbolized so much more than beautiful jewellery. 

“Diamond earrings!” Natalia exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and caution as she watched Amber’s face drop.

“I…I don’t want them,” Amber stammered, her heart racing for a different reason now. “This is too much. It feels wrong, I have to send them back.”

“What do you mean?” Natalia asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“We’re not together, I’ve been avoiding him since the pictures of him came out on the internet. If this is an olive branch it feels wrong.” The idea that Trent thought she could be brought made her skin crawl, that her pride and self respect came at a price no matter how beautiful the jewellery was. 

The gift, or olive branch, or whatever he thought this was, felt as though it had been given as a means of balm for the hurt she felt and keep her in a place of wading. A means of keeping her around and, most importantly, as if that was what he thought she wanted from him.

Amber’s vision blurred slightly as she fought back tears. “I don’t want to be someone’s consolation prize,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to feel like I’m being bought or have a price, this doesn't make up for my feelings.”

Natalia sighed, her expression softening. “I get it, Amber. But maybe he’s trying to show you he’s serious about wanting to make things right. This isn’t just a random gift; it’s a statement.”

“Or it’s a way to keep me there without actually keeping me,” Amber countered, shaking her head. “I don’t want to fall for it. I need to stand my ground.”

“Then do that,” Natalia encouraged, placing a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. “But you should at least talk to him. You owe it to yourself to hear him out instead of beating yourself up about it. You can’t just ignore everything and pretend it didn’t happen.”

Amber took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I know you’re right. I just… I don’t want to keep hurting myself. I don’t want to be vulnerable with him.”

“Then set your boundaries,” Natalia suggested. “You can tell him how you feel without giving in. You’re stronger than you think.”

Amber nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. “Okay, I’ll call him. But I’m not keeping the bag. I’ll return it, and I’ll make it clear that I don't see him as a meal ticket.”

“Good plan,” Natalia said, her voice filled with support. “You deserve to be treated with respect, not as a prize to be won back. Stay strong and call me later, I love you.” She continued before ending the Facetime call. 

Placing the lid back on the orange box, Amber packed it back into the bigger cardboard box it was delivered in and placed it safely beneath her desk. 

With a newfound determination, Amber picked up her phone and dialled Trent’s number. As it rang, she felt a mix of anxiety and empowerment. She was ready to confront him, to voice her feelings, and to reclaim her power in this situation.

“It’s me,” she said when he finally picked up, her heart pounding. “Trent, I don't want it.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and Amber could almost hear Trent processing her words. “What do you mean?” he finally asked, his voice a mix of confusion and concern.

“I mean the bag,” Amber clarified, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this. It feels wrong, and it feels like you’re trying to buy my forgiveness.”

“Amber, I—” he started, but she cut him off.

“No, let me finish,” she insisted, her heart racing. “I’ve been avoiding you because I needed time to think. I saw those pictures, and it hurt. I know you said you didn’t want anything serious from anyone, but those pictures suggested otherwise. So I’d rather quit while I’m ahead.”

“Amber, please,” Trent interjected, his voice rising slightly in urgency. “I never meant to hurt you. Those pictures… they were a mistake. I was trying to figure things out, and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“Exactly,” Amber replied, her voice firm. “You didn’t think about me and I wish you did,” she sighed sadly. 

“I know,” he said, his tone softening. “And I’m sorry. I should have communicated better. I should have been more considerate of your feelings. I just… I got caught up in everything, and I didn’t handle it well.”

Amber felt a pang of sympathy for him, but she quickly reminded herself of the hurt she had felt over the past days. “Please just give me an address I can send the purse and flowers and I’ll be out of your hair, Trent.”

Thankful for the current scarcity of staff on the office floor, Amber squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled the phone away from her ear before hanging up abruptly. 

She knew if she stayed on the phone to Trent any longer her true feelings were liable to slip and she refused to take any more blows to her pride where he was concerned. 

Hours away from the capital in Liverpool Trent sat completely stunned. He gathered Amber wasn’t impressed with his recent antics, based on her silence over the last week or so, but the hurt in her voice had caught him off guard. He had expected anger, maybe even some tears, but the way she had calmly stated her boundaries made him realize just how serious this was. 

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had thought the bag would be a way to bridge the gap, a gesture to show her he cared. But now, it felt like he had only made things worse. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself, sinking into the edge of his bed as he took a seat. 

Trent stared at his phone for a long moment after Amber ended the call. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, her words echoing in his mind.

"Please just give me an address I can send the purse and flowers and I'll be out of your hair, Trent."

Out of his hair? Those were fighting words if he ever heard them. He wanted to argue back, to tell her she was being ridiculous and that he cared about her more than any bag or public appearance could prove. But something in her voice stopped him cold.

She wasn't asking for apologies or promises, or even his attention. She was setting boundaries, making it clear what she would and wouldn't accept from him moving forward.

Trent sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process everything that had happened. What made matters worse was that he liked Amber, she was a beautiful woman and a pleasure to be around in more ways than one. 

Each of their encounters had been intense passionate, exhilarating...and sometimes messy. But he loved his life as is, he loved the freedom to do as he pleased without consequence or explanation. 

To Trent, going to dinner with a girl he’d been introduced to by a friend was him exercising his freedom as a single man, a man without consequence or explanation.

As one of the brightest stars in football, he had always been in the spotlight, and he had revelled in it. But now, he was faced with the reality that his actions had consequences, and those consequences were hurting someone he genuinely cared about.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Amber’s voice had been steady, but the hurt was palpable. He had never intended to hurt her; he had just been trying to navigate his chaotic life, and in doing so, he had.

Trent picked up his phone again, scrolling through his contacts until he found Amber’s name. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. What could he say that would make any difference? He had already hurt whether or not it was in his intention to, and now he was left with the aftermath of his choices.

He thought back to their time together—the laughter, the late-night conversations, the way she lit up when she talked about her dreams. She was more than just a pretty face; she was ambitious, driven, and had a fire in her that he admired. But his admiration didn’t outweigh his desire to do as he pleased.

His desire to look for those same qualities in other women. 

Trent felt a pang of guilt wash over him as he acknowledged the truth of his actions. He had taken Amber for granted, assuming she would always be there, waiting for him to figure things out. But now, he was faced with the reality that he might lose her for good if he didn’t change his approach.

He set his phone down and stood up, pacing the room as he tried to gather his thoughts. He needed to do something meaningful, something that would show Amber he was serious about wanting to make things right. The bag and flowers had been a misguided attempt to bridge the gap, but now he realized that they were just superficial gestures. What he needed was to confront his own feelings and be honest with her.

After a long fortnight of football matches and travelling, he had plans of spending his hard-earned weekend relaxing, but instead, he now stood trying to map out the quickest route to drive from Liverpool to London. 

His decision was impulsive, but he couldn’t shake the hurt in Amber’s voice from his mind no matter how hard he tried. The way her Southern Californian accent lacked its usual charm. 

Letting out a sigh, Trent stood from his bed and made his way into his closet to find something appropriate to wear. He rifled through his clothes, pulling out a crisp white shirt and a black sweatsuit. 

As he dressed, he mentally prepared himself for the conversation he hoped to have with Amber. He needed to be honest about his feelings, to show her that regardless of whether or not wanted to do as he pleased, he understood the gravity of his lack of consideration. He wanted her to know that he cared about her.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. The drive from Liverpool to London was about two and a half hours, but he was determined to make it in less time. He needed to see her, to talk to her face-to-face. 

As he drove, he replayed their last conversation in his mind, trying to anticipate her reactions. Would she be open to seeing him? Would she even want to talk? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, focusing instead on the road ahead.

When he finally arrived in London, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the frost-bitten city. 

As he drove towards the city centre he came to a humbling realization, he’d sent the gifts to her office building not because he knew that’s where she’d be, but because he didn’t know where she lived and he was able to obtain the office’s addresses with a google search. 

Every time they’d been intimate it had been in the confines of a hotel room, a fleeting moment of passion and desire before he went on his way again, before he went on to the next. 

Pulling onto the side of a street, Trent pulled out his phone sifting through it until he found Amber’s contact again. 

Part of him knew she didn’t owe him her time or attention, but he still felt compelled to reach out. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button once more. What could he say that would make any difference? He had already hurt her, and now he was left with the aftermath of his choices.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to send a text instead. 

Trent: Amber, I’m in London. Can we meet?

He hit send and waited, his heart racing as he stared at the screen. The minutes felt like hours as he watched the three dots appear and disappear, a constant reminder of his anxiety. Finally, his phone buzzed.

Amber: I’m busy, Trent.

The response stung, but he refused to let it deter him. He quickly typed back. 

Trent: I understand, but I really need to see you. Please, just a few minutes.

He waited, his palms sweaty on the steering wheel. After what felt like an eternity, she replied. 

Amber: fine. 

Trent let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as her previous message was followed up by an address to her apartment building. 

Amber: Meet me at my place in 20 minutes.

Trent's heart raced as he typed a quick acknowledgement. He quickly entered the address into his GPS, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. This was it—his chance to make things right, to show Amber that he genuinely cared about her feelings.

As he drove through the bustling streets of London, he couldn’t help but think about how selfish he’d been, not only to Amber but the others. The laughter they shared, the way she challenged him, and the warmth of her presence. He had been so caught up in his world that he hadn’t considered how his actions would affect her. 

Arriving at her apartment building, he parked and took a moment to collect himself. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. This wasn’t just about the bag or the flowers; it was about their connection and the trust that had been shaken.

He walked up to the entrance and buzzed her apartment. After a moment, he heard her voice through the intercom. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

There was a pause, and he could almost hear her weighing her options. Finally, the door clicked open. He stepped inside, his heart pounding as he made his way to her floor.

When he reached her door, he took a deep breath and knocked. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and he felt a rush of nerves. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if she slammed the door in his face?

But the door opened, and there she stood, looking both beautiful and guarded. Amber’s expression was a mix of surprise and wariness, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield herself from whatever he might say.

“Trent,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” he replied, his heart racing. “Can we talk?”

Amber hesitated, her eyes searching his face for something—an apology, a reason, a sign that he understood. Finally, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter. 

The apartment was cozy, filled with soft lighting and the faint scent of vanilla. It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the chaos of their recent interactions. 

“Sit down,” she said, motioning to the stylish small white couch. He took a seat, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” he began, his voice earnest. “I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you. I was caught up in my own world, and I didn’t consider your feelings at all.”

Amber remained silent, her expression unreadable. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it made his chest tighten.

“I thought sending the bag and flowers would help,” he continued, frustration creeping into his voice. “But I realize now that it was a stupid move. I was trying to fix things without really understanding what I needed to fix.”

“Trent,” she finally spoke, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “You can’t just throw gifts at someone and expect everything to be okay. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I was an idiot. I thought maybe if I showed you I cared tangibly, it would make up for everything.”

Amber’s expression softened slightly, but she still looked guarded. “You hurt me, Trent. Seeing those pictures… it felt like a slap in the face to have you tell me you don’t want anything serious with anybody and then be out so publicly with someone. I feel worthless.”

“You’re not,” he insisted, leaning forward. “You’re not worthless, Amber. You’re an incredible woman.”

“Just not one you care to take seriously,” Amber said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “I’m just sex to you Trent.”

Trent felt a sharp pang in his chest at her words. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re so much more than that to me. I’ve never seen you as just a fling. I care about you, Amber. I really do.”

“Then why did you let the world see you with her?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “As a man who’s adamant he wants to be single, why claim her like that? Because I’m just pussy to you, worthless, replaceable pussy.”

Amber couldn’t even articulate the idea of her not being enough for him, it hurt entirely too much. But deep down that is exactly how she felt. 

Trent's heart ached at her words, the raw pain in her voice cutting deeper than he had anticipated. “Amber, please don’t say that,” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “You’re not just sex to me. I’ve never treated you like that. I was trying to figure out my life, and I messed up. I didn’t think about how my actions would affect you, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“Maybe this should be it, Trent.” Amber interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion. “Maybe this is where we draw the line. I can’t keep putting myself in a position where I feel like I’m not enough for you. I deserve better than that.”

Trent felt a wave of desperation wash over him. “No, please don’t say that. I don’t want to lose you. I know I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right. I want to show you that I can be better.”

“Better?” she echoed, her eyes narrowing. “What does that even mean? Do you think a few nice words and a bag can fix this? You think I’m just going to forget how you made me feel? How I've made myself feel?”

“No, I don’t think that,” he said, his voice earnest. “But I want to try.”

Amber shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please don't say things we both know you don't mean.” 

“Amber, I mean it,” Trent said, his voice filled with urgency. “I know I’ve hurt you, but that wasn't my intention.”

“The thing is Trent you did and it's both our fault, when you told me you had no interest in anything serious I should have listened.” Amber pointed out painfully, her voice soft. “But I let myself hope for something more. I thought maybe you’d change your mind, that we could be something real. And then I saw those pictures, and it shattered everything.”

Trent couldn't bear the look on Amber’s face, standing from his seat he strode over to wear she stood clutching her body for some form of comfort in such an uncomfortable situation. 

Amber’s breath caught in her throat as Trent pulled her body into his arms, allowing her to cry into his chest as he held her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured again, feeling the warmth of her body against his and the weight of her tears soaking into his shirt. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was foolish and thoughtless, and I can’t express how much I regret it.”

Amber’s sobs began to quiet as she leaned into him, her body trembling with the release of pent-up emotions. “This isn't right, this isn't what you wanted,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “You shouldn’t have to feel obligated to comfort me.”

Trent tightened his grip around her, unwilling to let go. “Stop,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be.”

Amber searched his gaze, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all she found was a deep-seated regret and a flicker of hope.

Laying her head against Trent’s chest, she allowed herself to be fully vulnerable for the first time since the fallout. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a sense of comfort she hadn’t realized she craved. 

“Come back to Liverpool with me tonight, spend the weekend with me,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and earnest. “Let’s talk this through, away from all the noise and distractions. I want to show you that I’m serious about making things right.”

Amber pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. “You really think that’s a good idea? After everything that’s happened?”

“I do,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I want to prove to you that I can be better. I want to show you that I care about you, not just with words, but with actions.”

She hesitated, her heart torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of getting hurt again. “What if it doesn’t change anything? What if we just end up in the same place?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, his voice steady. “But I need you to give me a chance. I can’t fix this without you.”

Amber took a deep breath, weighing her options. The thought of spending the weekend with him was both thrilling and terrifying. She wanted to believe that the dynamic could change, that he could be the man she wanted him to be. But the fear of being hurt again loomed large in her mind.

“Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come with you. But I need you to be straight up with me, if this isn't what you want I’d rather you let me down easy.”

Trent nodded, his expression earnest. “I promise, Amber. I’ll be completely honest with you. I don’t want to play games anymore. I want to be real with you.”

Amber felt a flicker of hope at his words, but she still held onto her reservations. “If there are going to be other women I’d rather not know,” she said in complete disbelief of her own words as they left her lips.

Trent made her feel pathetic, but still she couldn’t bring herself to fully cut ties. 

“I understand,” he replied, his voice steady. “I won’t put you in that position. I want to focus on us, on what we have. I know I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right.”

Amber nodded slowly, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. She was stepping into uncharted territory, and while a part of her was excited, another part was terrified of the potential heartbreak that could follow. “Okay,” she said, her voice firmer now. “Let’s see where this weekend goes.”

“Let’s,” Trent smiled softly as their eyes met, the tension between them easing just a bit. He could see the flicker of hope in Amber’s eyes, and it filled him with determination. This was his chance to prove himself, to show her that he wasn’t the man his actions suggested.

As Amber gathered her things in preparation of an impromptu weekend in Liverpool with Trent, her heart fluttering in her chest as he sat comfortably on her bed watching her. 

“Come here,” he said softly, gesturing for her to join him. Amber hesitated for a moment, her heart racing as she considered the implications of moving closer to him. But the warmth in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes drew her in.

She walked over and sat beside him, feeling the familiar spark of connection that had always been there between them. Taking her hand into his, he guided her on top of him so she straddled his lap, her cheeks flushed as he gazed up at her. 

“Where are the earrings and flowers I sent?” Trent asked, a hint of a smirk present in his voice. 

“I threw the flowers in the trash and the earrings are in my closet,” Amber replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her stomach. She felt a mix of defiance and vulnerability as she looked down at him, their positions shifting the dynamic between them. 

Trent raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “You really didn’t like the earrings?”

“It’s not that I didn’t like them,” she said, her tone serious. “It’s just… it felt wrong. Like you were trying to buy my forgiveness or something.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “I get that. I thought it would help bridge the gap, but I see it fell flat. I want you to keep it, though.”

Amber's heart raced at his insistence. “Trent, I can’t.”

Trent’s gaze was unwavering, and he leaned in closer, his voice low and sincere. “You can and you will, it’s yours.

Instead of continuing their back and forth, Amber climbed off of Trent’s lap to continue packing for the weekend. 

As she moved around the room, gathering her essentials, she felt Trent's eyes on her, a mix of admiration and concern etched on his face. The tension in the air was palpable, and Amber couldn't shake the feeling that they were at a crossroads.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Trent asked, breaking the silence as she folded a few clothes into her overnight bag. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Amber paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “I’m not doing this because I feel pressured. I’m doing this because I want to,”

As present and in the moment as Trent was, he allowed his eyes to slip and study her figure as she stood in an oversized tank that showed off the swell of the sides of her breasts and a pair bicycle shorts that looked as though they’d been painted on. 

The idea that he’d made such a beautiful girl question her worth didn’t sit right with him, regardless of whether or not he was looking for anything serious with anyone. 

By the time Amber had finished packing a small Louis Vuitton duffle bag, outside was completely dark. Making sure all of the lights in her apartment were off, she followed Trent out into the evening. 

The drive from just west of central London to Liverpool took about two and a half hours, but the time seemed to fly by as they talked and laughed, the tension between them slowly dissipating. Amber found herself relaxing in Trent’s presence, the warmth of his smile and the sincerity in his voice easing her worries, if only a little.

As they drove, they discussed everything from their favorite movies to their childhood memories, and Amber felt a sense of normalcy returning. It was as if the weight of the past week was lifting, and she could almost forget the hurt that had lingered between them.

By the time they got to Trent’s neighborhood the nighttime had completely taken over, Amber sat in quiet awe as she took in each large, beautiful house they passed. 

This would mark the first time she’d ever been in Trent’s space and she couldn’t help but wonder what the premier league star’s house would look like. 

Trent parked in the driveway of a sleek, modern house that stood out among the others on his street, its clean lines and expansive windows inviting curiosity. Amber felt a flutter of apprehension and excitement as he turned off the engine and opened the door for her. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a faint smile, leading her up the stone walkway. The house was impressive, a testament to his success, but it felt oddly warm and inviting. 

As they stepped inside, Amber was immediately struck by the spaciousness of the living room. High ceilings, contemporary art pieces adorning the walls, and minimalistic furniture created an airy atmosphere. Cozy textures were layered throughout, and soft lighting cast a gentle glow, making it feel almost intimate. 

“Make yourself at home,” Trent said, casually tossing his keys onto a nearby counter. Amber wandered further into the space, taking in the details—the bookshelf filled with an eclectic mix of novels, the framed photos capturing candid moments from Trent's life with his family.

“Wow, this is really nice,” she remarked, turning to face him with a genuine smile, feeling a little more at ease. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

He chuckled softly, leaning against the kitchen island. “Thanks. It’s taken some time to make it feel like home. I travel a lot, so I wanted somewhere to come back to that felt… personal.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Amber replied, her gaze drifting over the sleek appliances and the small touches that hinted at his personality. “It feels lived in.”

“Exactly,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Want something to drink? I think I have a decent bottle of wine stashed away somewhere.”

Amber bit her lip, considering. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

As Trent disappeared into the kitchen, Amber took a moment to absorb the environment fully. The artworks scattered throughout the space hinted at a sensitive side she hadn’t quite seen before, the mix of personal and professional resonating with her more than she'd expected.

“Here we go,” he returned a moment later, a bottle of red wine in hand and two glasses dangling from his fingers. “I hope you’re a fan of Merlot.”

“Always.” Amber smiled as he poured the rich, deep liquid, the aroma filling the air.

They settled on the couch, their knees almost touching but with enough space to allow for the tension that still lingered in the air. As they shared the wine, they spoke lightheartedly at first, their laughter echoing through the living room.

But as the evening wore on and the bottles dwindled, the atmosphere shifted subtly. Amber felt the weight of their earlier conversation press upon them, and she realized that they would have to address the elephant in the room sooner or later.

“Trent,” she began, twirling her glass nervously. “I appreciate you bringing me here and wanting to make things right, but I need to know what you really want from this.”

Trent set his glass down, his expression growing serious. “I want to be honest with you, Amber. I like you and I want to continue seeing you, but I also need time to figure things out.”

Amber felt her heart race as his words hung in the air, the weight of his admissions settling over them. “You like me?” she repeated, searching his eyes for any trace of insincerity, but all she saw was earnestness.

“I do,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice low. “But I also know I’ve messed things up. I want to be real with you moving forward, but I can’t promise some fairytale outcome overnight.”

Her pulse quickened at his honesty, the mixture of hope and uncertainty swirling inside her. “So, you’re saying you want to see where this goes?” 

“Exactly,” he replied, his gaze steady. “But I need to do it right this time. I don’t want you to feel like you have to earn my attention or that I’m keeping you at arm’s length. You deserve better.”

Amber couldn’t help but smile slightly at his words. The vulnerability he was showing was so different from what she’d experienced before with him. “I just don’t want to go back to feeling like I’m not enough or like I’m something to do when there’s nothing to do.”

Trent reached out, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently. “You are more than that. You have to believe me.” 

His touch sent a shiver up her spine, igniting a chemistry that had been brewing between them all along. Still, the remnants of her heartache loomed heavy. 

Pushing all rational thought to the back of her mind, Amber leaned into Trent pressing his lips against hers as he melted into his seat, swiftly pulling her body on top of his. 

Lost in the moment, Amber felt the warmth of his body envelop her. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve ending as she responded instinctively to the heat radiating between them. It was unlike any kiss they had shared before—fueled by the pent-up emotions from their tumultuous journey, each brush of his lips against hers whispered promises of something more.

Trent’s hands found their way to her waist, holding her firmly yet tenderly as though she might slip away if he didn’t. She reveled in the feeling of being wanted, the way he kissed her with a desperation that mirrored her own longing. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them tangled in each other and the weight of their unspoken feelings.

As they pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Amber searched Trent’s face for a hint of what he was thinking. “I—”

“What is it?” he cut her off softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I want you to fuck me,” Amber murmured, her heart racing at the audacity of her words. It felt both liberating and terrifying to voice what she desperately craved. 

Trent's eyes darkened with intensity, a mix of surprise and undeniable hunger flickering across his features. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and taut, like a bowstring ready to snap. 

Amber nodded, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her. “I need to feel something real right now, something that reminds me of the connection we have. It’s been too much chaos lately, I just want to feel you.”

And feel him she did. 

Amber lay back on the plush sofa, her legs spread wide as Trent knelt between them. His hands gripped her inner thighs, fingers digging into the soft skin as he gazed up at her with hungry eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned, his breath hot against her dampening pussy lips. "I could eat this sweet little pussy all day."

Trent dove in without hesitation, his tongue delving deep to taste Amber's arousal. She let out a sharp gasp, hips bucking slightly at the sudden sensation.

"Oh god... Trent..." Her voice trailed off into a moan as he worked his magic, lapping and sucking with increasing fervour.

He alternated between long, slow strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against her sensitive clit. Amber's head thrashed from side to side, her shiny black hair splayed across the cushions as she struggled to maintain coherence.

"That's it, baby... just like that," she panted. 

Trent's hands slid up Amber's body to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardening nipples. He suckled harder on her pussy, determined to make her come undone.

“Like this?” Trent asked raising his head, his chin and lips glistening with her arousal as he puckered them and allowed a bead of his spit to fall into her clit, before sucking it back into his mouth, his eye’s never leaving hers. 

Amber's eyes widened as Trent's saliva hit her sensitive clit, the added moisture sending shockwaves through her body. "Yes, god yes..." she whimpered, arching into his touch.

Trent continued to lavish attention on her sex, alternating between sucking and licking in a relentless rhythm that had Amber teetering on the edge of climax. She could feel the pressure building inside her, coiling tighter with each pass of his tongue.

"I'm so close... don't stop," she begged breathlessly, fingers tangling in Trent's tapered curls.

He obliged, as he devoured her pussy like a man starved. The room filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and wet slapping noises as he ate out Amber with wild abandon.

Just when it seemed he might push her over the precipice at any moment, Trent pulled back slightly. “Reach down and spread pussy open for me,” he instructed. 

Amber's heart raced as Trent commanded her to spread her pussy open for him. She instinctively tried to close her thighs, but he held them apart with a firm grip.

"Please... I'm so sensitive," she whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable in that moment.

Trent didn't relent, his intense gaze never leaving her face. "That's the point, beautiful. You're mine to play with right now."

With shaking hands, Amber reached down and grasped the swollen lips of her sex. She parted them slowly, revealing the glistening pink flesh within. A trickle of arousal escaped, dripping down onto the sofa cushion below.

"There you go," Trent purred approvingly, leaning forward once more to lap at her juices greedily. His tongue delved deep into her folds again, swirling around her clit before tracing up and down each side of her slit.

The added stimulation from spreading herself wide made everything feel even more intense for Amber.

Amber's head thrashed back and forth as Trent worked her over, the combination of his skilled tongue and her shameless display pushing her to the brink. "Oh fuck, oh my god... I'm gonna cum baby!" she wailed.

Trent responded by redoubling his efforts, sucking harder on her clit while thrusting two fingers deep into Amber's twitching channel. He curled them just right, rubbing that sweet spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.

With a keening cry, Amber shattered once more beneath him. Her pussy clenched rhythmically around his invading digits as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. This time, Trent didn't pull away – he kept eating at her sex until she'd ridden out every last tremor.

Only then did he withdraw his fingers and sit back on his heels to admire his handiwork: Amber lying spent and sated on the sofa, thighs still parted in invitation.

“More,” she breathed, her fingers gently tracing over her sensitive pussy as their eyes met. 

“More?” Trent repeated. 

Instead of offering him a verbal response, Amber sat up and moved over onto her hands and knees, a deep arch in her spine. She wanted him to fuck her until the hurt and embarrassment she’d felt over the last week were wiped clean from her mind. 

Trent's eyes widened at the sight of Amber presenting herself so wantonly. He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing in response to her display. 

"Fuck, baby... you're incredible," he murmured, a low growl building in his chest as he pulled off his pants and boxers. His rigid erection sprang free, thick and pulsing with need.

Trent positioned himself behind Amber, running the head of his dick along her soaked folds teasingly before pushing inside. She was still sensitive from her previous orgasms but welcomed the stretch as he filled her gradually.

"Ohhhh shit..." she moaned, arching back into him before he abruptly pulled himself from her. 

“I need you in my bed,” Trent growled, his voice thick with desire, as he quickly grabbed Amber's waist and spun her around to face him. He claimed her lips with a fierce kiss, tongues dancing as they both breathed heavily through their noses, the tension crackling between them.

“Let’s go,” he said, his breath warm against her cheek, as he scooped her up effortlessly, causing her to gasp in surprise. His hands gripped her thigh while she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the unmistakable heat of his body against hers.

With a powerful stride, Trent carried her upstairs to his bedroom, their breaths mingling with the urgency of their need. He kicked open the door, quickly stepping inside before gently setting her on the bed. 

Amber's heart raced as he stepped back to admire her; the flush of passion coloured her cheeks, and her body gleamed with a sheen of perspiration, the sight of her drove him wild. 

“Can I return the favour?” she asked, eyeing his long, thick cock that hung heavily beneath them. 

“You want to?” Trent asked taking hold of his length, slowly stroking from tip to base and back again as Amber crawled to the edge of the bed. 

Amber's eyes widened at the sight of Trent's impressive erection, her gaze locked onto it hungrily. "Yes," she breathed, reaching out to wrap a hand around his shaft. "I want to taste you."

Without waiting for an invitation, Amber leaned forward and took him into her mouth, moaning softly as he filled her oral cavity. She began to bob her head slowly, savoring the saltysweet flavor of his precum on her tongue.

Trent let out a low groan as Amber worked him over with skillful lips and tongue. Her free hand fondled his balls while she sucked gently on the tip of his cockhead.

"Fuck... just like that," he encouraged through gritted teeth, fingers tangling in Amber's hair. "You're amazing."

Emboldened by his praise, Amber increased the pace of her ministration.

Trent watched in awe as Amber made a mess on him, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock as she took him deeper, the warmth of her mouth and her eyes never breaking contact with his driving him wild with lust. He could feel the heat pooling in his belly, every flick of her tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him.

“God, Amber,” he gasped, tilting his hips forward to meet her mouth as she sucked harder, pulling him in deeper until her throat constricted around his length. 

In response, she moaned, sending vibrations through his shaft that had him groaning louder. The sight of her on her knees, completely absorbed in pleasuring him, was more arousing than he could have imagined. 

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he murmured, pulling back slightly to let her catch her breath. “You’re doing so good, so messy for me.”

Spit dripped from Amber’s chin gathering on her chest and flat stomach as she allowed Trent to have his way with her mouth and throat. 

Reaching between her own legs, Amber gagged as her fingers came into contact with her clit, instantly sending a chill down her spine as she refused to break eye contact with the man before her. 

As Trent's cock slid deeper into her mouth, Amber felt a surge of pride and desire. She loved the power she wielded with her lips and tongue, the ability to make him groan and tremble beneath her touch. Her own arousal grew with each thrust, juices dripping down her thighs as she sucked him harder.

Trent tangled his fingers in Amber's hair, guiding her pace as he rolled his hips against her face. "Just like that... fuck yes," he panted, eyes locked on hers as she worked him over.

Amber moaned around his length, sending vibrations through his shaft that had him gasping for breath. She could taste the salty tang of his precum mingling with the musky scent of their combined arousal filling the air.

Lost in the moment, Amber forgot about everything else  Trent's fame, their complicated relationship status, even her dreams for a more meaningful connection. All that mattered was pleasing this man who stirred such intense passion within her.

Amber’s mind turned to mush as Trent fucked her throat, his hand gripping her hair into a messy ponytail as she took him. 

Trent hated how selfish his thoughts may have sounded, but there was no way he was actually going to allow Amber to walk away. His interest in other women didn’t take away from what he felt towards her. 

Pulling her mouth off of him Trent watched in awe as a string of her saliva ran from her lips to his hard dick. 

As Trent pulled out of Amber's mouth, she gasped for air, eyes glazed with lust. He was so hard and thick in her hand, the head glistening with saliva. 

"Hmm... you taste amazing," she purred, stroking him slowly as she looked up at him through heavy eyelashes.

Trent shuddered at her touch, his breath hitching in his chest. "You're fucking incredible," he rasped, reaching down to help her off the bed. 

Amber let him pull her to her feet and then turned around to present herself once more. She spread her legs wider, giving Trent an unobstructed view of her dripping pussy.

Trent stepped forward, his eyes locked onto Amber's glistening sex. With a reverent hand, he cupped her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her back against him.

"You're so ready for me," he growled approvingly, rubbing the head of his cock along her slick folds. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."

Amber shivered at his words, a thrill running through her at the promise of rough passion. She reached back to guide him inside, but Trent wasn't having it. Instead, he gripped both of her hips and slammed into her with one powerful thrust.

A sharp cry escaped Amber's lips as she was filled to the brim by Trent's thick length. He didn't give her time to adjust before pulling out and driving in again, setting a relentless pace that had them both panting within moments.

"Yes... just like that!"

Trent grunted with each powerful stroke, his hips snapping forward to bury himself in Amber's heat again and again. He could feel her pussy clenching around him, her inner walls rippling along his length as he claimed her thoroughly.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, sweat beading on his brow from exertion. "Take it all, baby."

Amber moaned wantonly, pushing back to meet every thrust. The slap of skin against skin filled the room as Trent thrusted into her with abandon, their bodies moving in perfect sync.

He reached around to thumb at her clit roughly while continuing to piston into her slick channel. The added stimulation had Amber seeing stars within moments.

"Oh god... I'm going to cum!" she keened loudly.

Within an instant Amber was beneath Trent, their foreheads pressed against the other and her legs over his shoulders as he buried himself inside of her, making her take every last inch of him as he bottomed out. 

“Trent, you’re so big!” Amber squealed, the indescribable pleasure she felt accompanied by a dull ache. 

"Shhh, take it," Trent whispered against Amber's ear, his hips never ceasing their relentless rhythm as he pistoned in and out of her clenching heat. "Your little pussy was made for my cock."

Amber whimpered, trying to catch her breath between cries of pleasure as Trent's thumb rubbed merciless circles over her hypersensitive clit. "Don't stop..."

With a guttural growl, Trent slammed into her one final time, holding still as his release hit. Amber felt each hot spurt of his cum filling her to the brim, marking her insides with his claiming essence. "Fuck yes... give it to me," he panted, grinding against her to prolong the sensation.

As Trent slowly withdrew, his softening member slipped free with a wet sound, followed by a trickle of their combined fluids onto the bed sheets below.

As caught up in pleasure as he was, Trent noticed Amber had rolled away from him, putting some distance between them in his spacious bed, an action he didn’t approve of. 

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Trent pulled her body against his, turning her so she faced him as they both lay catching their breath. 

As their eyes met, a moment of vulnerability passed between them. The haze of passion began to lift, revealing the reality of their situation. Amber's heart raced, not just from the physical exertion but from the emotional weight of what had just transpired.

"That was... intense," she breathed, her cheeks flushed as Trent tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Trent smiled softly, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“Yes.”

[insidekatmind]

"Under the Parisian Sky"- Trent Alexander Arnold

The sun was gently setting behind the majestic silhouette of the Eiffel Tower, painting the sky with shades of pink, orange, and purple. Paris, with its timeless beauty, seemed to have stepped out of a love fairy tale. The streets were crowded with tourists and Parisians, but at that moment, everything seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you.

"Do you like it, my love?" asked Trent Alexander-Arnold, his English accent making you melt every time. His brown eyes, as deep as molten chocolate, shone with a special light as he gazed at you with infinite tenderness. His warm hand wrapped around yours with such gentleness, as if the entire world was held within that simple gesture.

"It's perfect, Trent," you replied, letting your gaze get lost in the wonder of the view. "I couldn't have imagined a better place to be with you."

"I knew you'd like it," he said with a sweet, knowing smile. "But it's not over yet, my love."

You tilted your head to the side, curious. "Oh yeah? What else do you have in mind, Mr. Alexander-Arnold?" you asked with a mischievous, playful smile.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You'll find out soon, my princess. For now, just trust me."

You continued walking along the cobblestone streets, hand in hand. Every so often, Trent would stop in front of a flower stall or a street artist, his sincere curiosity for the little things in the city on full display. That was just like him — always attentive to details, just like on the football pitch. And it was this very way of being that made you fall in love with him more each day.

"Shall we go there?" he suggested, pointing to a small pier overlooking the Seine. It was a secluded spot, away from the bustle, with a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, which now glowed with thousands of golden lights like a jewel in the heart of Paris's night.

"It's beautiful," you said, stopping beside him. The cool air caressed your skin, and the scent of the Seine's water mixed with that of wildflowers. It was as if nature itself wanted to bless this moment.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, but his gaze wasn't on the Eiffel Tower. It was on you.

You turned toward him, your heart beginning to beat faster. There was something different in his eyes, a light you had never seen before. His smile was tender, but also serious.

"What's wrong?" you asked, suddenly aware of the silence between you.

"I want to tell you something," he said, taking a deep breath. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of his jacket. "Actually, I want to ask you something."

You frowned, your heart now racing wildly in your chest. "Trent, are you okay?" you asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

He laughed, but there was a note of sweet nervousness in his voice. "Yeah, I'm okay. I’m just… I’m just a little emotional." Then he took a step back and slid a hand into his pocket. When his hand reemerged, he was holding a small blue velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat.

"No…" you whispered, bringing a hand to your mouth. "Trent, I don't believe it…"

He got down on one knee, pressing his knee against the cold surface of the pier. Around you, the world seemed to freeze. Every sound of the city softened, and the only thing you could hear was the frantic pounding of your heart.

"My love," he began, lifting his eyes to meet yours. His eyes glowed with emotion. "Since you came into my life, everything changed. You made every day brighter, every moment more special. I can't imagine my future without you by my side."

Your vision blurred from the tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak, your throat tight with emotion.

"I want to be there for you — in every joyful moment and every challenge. I want to be the man who makes you smile, who supports you, who loves you more and more every day." He opened the box, revealing a ring with a diamond that sparkled like the stars above you. "Will you marry me?"

A tear slid down your cheek, followed by another, and another still. A wave of overwhelming emotion swept over you. Your voice came out trembling but firm.

"Yes, Trent. Yes, I want to marry you!" you exclaimed, letting the tears stream freely down your face.

He laughed with joy, getting to his feet and pulling you into a tight embrace, spinning you around. His arms wrapped around you with such strength, and your hands clung to his shoulders as if to make sure you’d never let him go.

"I love you," he whispered against your ear, his voice full of emotion.

"I love you too, Trent. I love you more than words can explain," you replied, burying your face in his neck, the scent of his skin bringing you comfort and peace.

Paris, the city of love, had now become the symbol of your promise. And under the golden lights of the Eiffel Tower, you both vowed to love each other forever.

[planetpedri]

sweaterpaws!trent and it’s just reader finding it soooo ^_^ but amusing at the same time. Lmk.

The only exception — Trent Alexander-Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never believed in love until you met Trent. On your second date, you realize he is the only exception to your beliefs.

Word count: 545

Disclaimer/s: fluff fluff fluff with a hardly even a smudge of angst if you squint hard enough

A/N: I love him your honor. + gif from @/trentione on tumblr !

Second dates weren’t usually your thing. You’d always given up after the first, but for some reason, you couldn’t resist this one. The Scouser had completely enamored you from the start. His smile, his laugh, his accent, it was all too consuming.

Even now, as the two of you exited the restaurant, you were smiling, giggling at a joke he’d made. The car was parked a block down the road, so you two held each other close, arm in arm as you walked.

“How was the food?” Trent asks, looking down at you with a small smile.

You look up, sharing the same smile. “Amazing, how’d you hear about this place? I’ve lived here all my life and never heard of it.”

Trent shrugs, “from a friend, he proposed to his wife there, actually.” He sensed the way you tensed, swallowing thickly at how uncomfortable you’d gotten. “I’m not—no—I just—“

You reached his car, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “No, I know. It’s okay.” Your arms disconnect and you notice the way his sleeves had come to wrap over his fists.

You say nothing though, as Trent quickly switches the topic to tell you a funny story. While he speaks, you could only focus on the way his sweater sleeves had been pulled over his hands as if they were paws. You quickly reach into your pocket and pull out your phone.

“What are you—hey!” Trent laughs, shaking his head when your phone comes out to snap a picture of him. “No pictures!”

Your grin widens as you take picture after picture, sinking in the way he giggled, trying but not trying really, to stop you from doing so. “You look adorable!” You tease, fully amused by the situation.

Trent’s head shakes as if to silently tell you to stop, but he doesn’t physically make you. Instead, he covers his face and takes the few strides toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as your phone presses against his chest. No more pictures, just him in front of you, looking into your squinted, humor filled eyes.

“What’re you doing, mister Alexander?” You quirk an eyebrow, head lulling to the side with a lopsided grin.

“I was about so ask if I could kiss you, but…” He trails off, eyes flickering across your face.

Your heart flutters, and you feign contemplation. “Hmm.” But the way he was looking at you, the way he held you so gently, you couldn’t decline. He seemed to be the only person in your life that had ever elicited such an intense emotion from you.

Trent, a man you’d only agreed to go on a date with because your best friend had begged you to, was now the only man you’d felt so strongly for.

He was the exception.

“Is that a no?” Trent asks quietly. You blink, just realizing how long you’d been silent for.

“Oh! Oh God, no! No, it’s a yes! It’s most certainly a yes!” You spew out quickly, stumbling over your words. “Sorry, I was just thinking! Yes, please.”

The brunette chuckles, his head tipping down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. A kiss you were certain would lead to many others, and hopefully a lifetime worth of them.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: 700 followers is insaneeee and sm more than i acc thought id ever get so thank you so much! f1 and/or football fans, i love u all so much ugh ALSO if ur wondering why this chapter is longer than my lifespan it’s bcos u guys deserve it for being so patient and accept it as my dearest apology xxx

Warnings: a lot of fluff actually, casual banter, a lot of coffee mentions for some fkn reason lmfao, swearing probably

Word Count: 4.9k words (18 mins reading avg)

...

You push open the door to the training pitch, the cool breeze brushing against your face as you step outside, searching for Wataru.

The headache that’s been plaguing you all morning tightens its grip, and the fresh scent of the grass seems almost too intense. You rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension while scanning the field.

Across the pitch, Trent catches your eye, his movements fluid and graceful as he makes a pass. The ball connects with his boot in a way that’s almost poetic, the sound sharp and precise.

What usually feels like music to your ears now drives another spike of pain through your already throbbing head. You wince, pressing your fingers more firmly against your temples.

Finally, you spot Wataru near the edge of the pitch, zipping up his jacket while observing the players. As you approach, he looks up, concern immediately crossing his face as he takes in your weary appearance.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greets, his voice laced with worry. “Rough start?”

You manage a tired smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, not the best morning. Overslept, skipped breakfast, and now this headache won’t quit.”

Wataru nods, his concern deepening. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. We can cancel if you need.”

Leaning against the wall beside him, you try to relieve some of the pressure on your aching body. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. Just.. not exactly firing on all cylinders this morning.”

A quiet settles over you as you both watch the players go through their drills.

Trent sends a perfect cross into the box, and you can’t help but remark, “at least someone’s got their energy today.”

The usual lively atmosphere - the rhythmic thud of the ball, the shouts of encouragement, the bursts of laughter - feels like an assault on your senses. Each kick sends another ripple of pain through your skull, deepening the throbbing.

Wataru notices the way your shoulders tense with each sharp noise and is about to speak when you take a deep breath, pushing off the wall and forcing steadiness into your voice.

“I’ll be upstairs,” you say softly. “When you’re ready to start, just let me know.”

He nods, understanding clear in his eyes. “Take your time, Y/N. No rush.”

You offer a grateful smile before turning to head back inside. Each step is a conscious effort to stay composed. The quiet of the training centre seems more inviting than ever, a much-needed refuge from the relentless pounding in your head.

...

"Long night?" Trent remarked as he spotted Wataru holding two cups of coffee. His brows furrowed in mild surprise, though his tone remained light as he gestured toward the cups.

Wataru chuckled and shook his head. “Not for me. One of these is for Y/N.”

Trent’s expression shifted slightly, his brows relaxing as he nodded. “Oh.”

“She mentioned she skipped breakfast,” Wataru explained, “so I thought coffee might help.”

Trent glanced at the black coffee in Wataru’s hand, steam rising from the cup. His face remained neutral, but there was a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips before he spoke again.

“She doesn’t drink it black,” Trent said matter-of-factly.

Wataru blinked in surprise, glancing down at one of the cups. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Trent replied, trying to sound casual. He looked away, his voice quiet but with a slight edge.

“You might want to add some milk and a bit of sweetener. I’ve never seen her drink it.. like that.”

“Ah, thanks,” Wataru said, giving him a nod as the coffee machine hummed in the background.

Trent responded with a curt nod of his own, the awkwardness of the moment settling over him.

As he waited for the machine to finish, he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’d crept up on him.

Finally, he poured himself a cup, his movements deliberate but distracted.

He never assumed he knew your coffee preferences, but the fact that he actually did only disturbed him.

Wataru exited the canteen, but Trent remained standing in his place, staring down at his cup. The liquid swirling as he gave it a half-hearted stir, his mind lost in thought.

He’d been trying to keep his distance from you, aiming to stay focused on his own routines. You were just another face at the training centre, someone there to do a job like everyone else.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

So why had he noticed how you took your coffee? Why did it matter to him?

The thought nagged at him, making him feel off balance. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like that he was starting to notice these little things about you, almost as if he was beginning to care. It made him feel uneasy, like he was losing his grip on the boundaries he’d set for himself.

He shook his head, wiping the bottom of the spoon on the rim of his cup before setting it down on the tray.

The nagging sensation in his chest made him feel vulnerable, and Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable. He was supposed to be focused, dedicated, with his head in the game and his heart firmly off the field.

He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste barely registering as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable thought.

The truth was, he’d been noticing you for a while now.

The way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the determination with which you threw yourself into your work - it was hard to ignore.

And he’d been trying to push those thoughts away, shoving them into the back of his mind where they couldn’t distract him.

But every now and then, they crept back in, uninvited and unwelcome.

He let out a deep breath and finally decided to move. He followed the same route Wataru had taken just a few minutes earlier.

As he stepped out of the canteen, he saw his teammate engaged in conversation with one of the backroom staff, overhearing snatches of words like "reschedule" and "now."

His attention drifted as he passed by, noticing Ibou absorbed in what looked like cricket highlights playing on the TV. Yet his mind was still clouded, so much so that he barely noticed when his name was called.

“Trent!” The voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the present. He turned to see Wataru waving him over, his expression a mix of urgency and apology.

He hesitated for a moment before walking over, his footsteps heavy. “What’s up?” He asked, aiming to sound casual.

Wataru glanced at the staff member, then back at him. “I’ve got to go see Arne,” he said, his voice low. “Can you do me a favour?”

Trent raised an eyebrow, half-expecting to be asked to cover a training session or run an errand. “Depends,” he said slowly.

He saw Wataru’s gaze shift to the coffee cups in his hands, and he felt his stomach sink. A chorus of silent ‘no no no’s’ echoed in his mind, ignored by whatever higher powers may've been listening.

Wataru hesitated for a moment, a conflicted look on his face, before finally holding one of the cups out to him. “Do you mind taking this up to Y/N for me?”

Trent hesitated, frowning. “Can’t someone else do it?”

The faces of the two men standing opposite him twisted into mild confusion, as if that was the last response they expected.

"It won’t take you long."

His eyes flickered over. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to get involved. The last thing he needed was to play delivery boy, especially for you.

He was about to refuse again when he saw the concern in Wataru’s eyes. With a resigned sigh, he took the cup.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Wataru’s face broke into a grateful but meek smile. He hurried off, leaving Trent to stare down at the cup in his hand, feeling a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite name.

He headed toward the stairs, his steps slow, each one weighed down by the internal debate raging in his head.

He could just throw it out.

The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.

Dump the coffee and be done with it. You’d never know. And then he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of seeing you.

But then again, Wataru would find out. He’d ask you about the coffee later, and if it never made it to you, Trent would have to come up with some kind of excuse.

Wataru might be easygoing, but he wasn’t dumb. Trent didn’t need anyone questioning him, especially over something as trivial as a cup of coffee.

He gripped the cup tighter, feeling the warmth seep through the paper. It’d be so easy to turn around, head back to the kitchen, and pour it down the sink.

Out of sight, out of mind.

He could almost picture it - the splash of tan liquid spinning down the drain, washing his hands of this whole situation.

But then there was the part of him that knew better, the part that had been growing louder lately. The part that remembered the way you looked this morning, rubbing your temples, the pain etched across your face.

He made his way down the hallway, taking the stairs one at a time until he stood outside your door.

He hesitated, he hated this strange, unfamiliar urge to do something nice for someone here. And for you, of all people.

It was annoying, unsettling.

Realising both hands were full, he resorted to tapping the toe of his trainer against the wooden door, three quick thuds echoing through the corridor.

Silence.

He clicked his tongue in frustration and tried again, tapping harder.

Still nothing.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered, irritation lacing his words.

As he stood there, a familiar figure sauntered down the corridor. Harvey noticed Trent’s growing agitation and, with a smirk, made his way over to investigate.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, his accented voice dripping with amusement. His eyes shifted from Trent’s face to the coffee cups, then to the trainer tapping rhythmically against the door.

“I’m knocking, genius,” Trent replied, his voice edged with sarcasm. He let out a sigh through his nose, tipping his head back slightly as Harvey's eyes flickered between him and the door.

“Since when do you ever knock?” Harvey questioned, eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

Trent’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but he was right. He never knocked.

A beat of silence passed before Trent jerked his chin toward the door. “Get the door for me, yeah?”

Harvey grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “I kinda wanna see how long you’ll keep this up,” he teased, his tone light.

Trent shot him a glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched with reluctant amusement.

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.” Harvey chuckled, relenting. He stepped forward, pressing down on the handle and pushing the door open.

Trent manoeuvred through the doorway, using the back of his shoulder to nudge it open the rest of the way, careful not to spill the coffee. He cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who leaned against the door frame with a smirk.

“See? Was that so hard?” Harvey quipped, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trent muttered, rolling his eyes.

He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Everything in your office looked untouched, as if you'd entered and gone straight to your desk. You were slumped over, head resting in one hand, elbow propped up on the wooden surface.

Either you’d fallen asleep, or...

“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.

"Here's hoping.” Trent mumbled in response.

He took a step closer, clearing his throat softly, but you remained oblivious.

Trent’s gaze flickered around the room, his usual composure faltering as he took in your dishevelled state. Despite his attempts to remain detached, seeing you like this stirred something deep within him that he couldn’t quite ignore.

With a sigh, he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the unease that had settled over him. He carefully placed the coffee on the desk beside you, his movements deliberate.

Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your shirt as if testing the waters.

When you remained unresponsive, he mustered the courage to place his full hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle shake.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “I’ve got your coffee.”

You stirred, lifting your head and blinking groggily. He removed his hand, straightening his back.

“Trent?” You mumbled, still half-asleep. The smell of the coffee faintly registered in your mind. “You didn’t have to..”

He shrugged, attempting to sound casual. “Wataru asked me to bring it up. And, well..” He glanced at you, feeling an unfamiliar tug of something he couldn’t quite name. “I figured you might need it.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. I really do.”

As he was about to leave, he noticed the pile of paperwork cluttered next to your computer, the chaos suggesting you’d been battling through it despite your headache.

“I, uh..” His voice faltered slightly. “Need any help with that?“

You were about to reply when Harvey’s voice cut in, disbelief evident in his tone. “You’re offering to help?”

Trent shifted uncomfortably, his back still turned to Harvey as he rolled his eyes. You caught the movement and chuckled softly.

“Not offering. Just—” He turned to see Harvey’s amused expression and added hastily, “—just making sure she's not swamped. Is that a crime?”

Harvey shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not at all. Just didn’t think you had it in you.”

Trent picked up half of the stack, maybe more, his actions earnest but guarded.

You watched him with a mix of gratitude and surprise, taking a sip of the coffee and feeling the soothing warmth begin to ease your headache.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, still leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see the day Trent Alexander-Arnold played the hero.”

Trent’s lips curled into a slight smile, his cheeks reddening as he held up a stack of papers toward Harvey. “Want to help?”

Harvey raised his hands in mock surrender, pushing himself off the doorframe. “I’ll leave you two to it. Have fun, lovebirds.”

As he departed, your cheeks warmed slightly, but you quickly shifted your focus to your inbox. An email from Arne caught your eye at the top, informing you that your session with Wataru had been rescheduled.

You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.

Trent, meanwhile, had sunk onto the couch, peeling off the top sheet of the document. He placed the remaining papers neatly on the cabinet beside him and studied the single sheet in his hand with a skeptical frown.

The bold black text at the top seemed to glare back at him: "For Liverpool FC Staff Only."

He paused, his fingers grazing the corner of the page. "I can read these, right?"

You glanced over, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze. “Yeah, they're just things I need to acknowledge I've read,” you said with a casual shrug, your voice carrying a hint of nonchalance.

Trent tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he flipped the document over. “Seems a bit counter-productive, though,” he remarked.

“Not really. I never actually read them,” you explained nonchalantly.

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “And here I thought you were all about dedication to your job,” he said, his voice trailing off with a mocking edge.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up your coffee cup again after dragging the stack of remaining papers closer.

“I am dedicated,” you replied with a hint of a smile, “but finance just doesn’t interest me. I skim.”

He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.

You paused before starting on your work, glancing over at Trent. “Anything important, just make sure you tell me.”

Trent looked up, his expression blank but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What if I want to skim read?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to the papers. “Shut up, Trent.”

His gaze lingered on you, a smirk playing at his lips as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally looked away, his smile widening just slightly.

...

The soft shuffle of papers and the occasional scratch of your pen had become a rhythmic background noise in the room.

Your headache had lessened thanks to the coffee and the company, but the stack of paperwork in front of you still felt like an endless mountain.

As you reached the final couple of documents, you heard Trent stand up from the couch.

You looked over just in time to see him stretching his arms above his head, the motion causing his shirt to lift slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin beneath.

You swallowed, instinctively folding your lips inwards as your eyes lingered for a moment too long.

He was an athlete, after all, so naturally, he was fit, as any athlete would be. But seeing it up close stirred something in you that you quickly tried to dismiss.

He caught your glance, and instead of saying anything, Trent poked his tongue into his cheek, clearly holding back a remark.

His lips pressed together in a restrained smirk, like he was biting back a teasing comment. He didn’t want to overstep, especially in the middle of a setting like this one, and God forbid he came across like he’d noticed too much.

Your face grew warm, and you immediately redirected your attention back to the papers in front of you, pretending to scan over the same paragraph you had just read.

But the words on the page were a blur, the previous focus you had was gone, and all you could feel was your heart beating a little too fast, a bit too aware of his presence nearby.

He placed the now neatly organised stack of papers he had been working on back onto your desk. “These just need your signature now,” he said, his voice casual, but you could sense a hint of satisfaction.

You raised an eyebrow. “You finished all of them?”

He nodded, unfazed. He pulled out a folded A4 paper from his pocket.

“I made a note.. of everything that was important.” His fingers unfolded the paper to reveal messy, scribbled handwriting - a far cry from the neat, printed reports you were used to seeing.

But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.

You stared at the paper in his hand for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Trent, ever the enigma, had actually taken the time to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. His expression was calm, neutral even, but you knew deep down this was one of those moments he’d never let you thank him for.

“Thanks, Trent. That’s.. really thoughtful of you.” The words felt too light, not enough to fully express your gratitude, but you also knew him well enough to recognise that overpraising him would probably make him uncomfortable.

As expected, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of needing me for this stuff.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and refreshing. “I’ll try not to.”

There was a beat of silence before he shoved the note toward you, his eyes finally meeting yours for a brief second. "Make sure you check my notes, though. My handwriting’s a bit shit.”

You took the note from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

“I’ll make sure to decipher it,” you teased lightly, glancing down at the paper covered in hurried scrawls.

As Trent turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at you. “Take it easy, Y/N. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, as you fiddled with the paper between your fingers. The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a deep breath.

The room suddenly felt quieter, emptier, but your mind wasn’t letting go. You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on the documents in front of you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him - his quiet gestures, the sarcastic remarks, the infuriating smirks.

It was maddening how easily he got under your skin, how a simple glance could set your pulse racing.

Then, the memory played again in your mind, torturously vivid - the door shutting, the way he'd looked at you before leaving.

But then it hit you. Y/N.

Your mouth parted, breath hitching as the realisation dawned. He’d said your name.

For the first time, it wasn’t “psychologist.” It was your actual name.

Since you’d started here, you hadn't noticed how much that label created a barrier, a distance. Now, the memory of him saying your name replayed on a loop, breaking through that invisible wall.

You hadn’t realised how much you wanted to hear it from him.

Until now.

...

You were making your way down the hallway towards the cafeteria when you saw Wataru walking towards you. You exchanged polite smiles, a small gesture of recognition, as you passed by each other.

But something made you pause, and you turned back, calling after him.

“Wataru!” You said, a grateful grin crossing your face. He turned around, his eyes curious.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you added, your voice light with appreciation.

Wataru's smile widened as he slowed his pace. “Did Trent bring it up?” He asked, shifting his weight where he stood.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.

“How’s the headache?” He asked, a soft concern in his tone.

“Gone,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to run over the skin on your forehead. “Thanks to you.”

Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.

You studied him for a moment, your curiousity getting the best of you. You tilted your head ever so slightly and asked, “how did you know how I liked it? My coffee, I mean?”

He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t,” he said plainly, his expression easy.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your lips parting as you waited for him to explain further.

Wataru chuckled again and leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “Trent told me. Said you didn’t like it plain.”

Your heart skipped a beat, surprise flickering across your face. “Really?” You asked, your voice mellow with disbelief. “I didn’t know he knew that.”

Wataru smiled, watching the realisation dawn on you. “He’s an attentive boy,” he added with a nod, his tone thoughtful.

You blinked, processing his words. “Yeah,” you breathily replied, your brows lifting in agreement.

“Guess he is.”

...

Trent finished zipping up his thin jacket with a final click, the sound resonating softly as he shut the door to the vacant computer room behind him. He patted his pockets, making sure he had everything.

Across the hallway, you were locking your office door, your focus intent as you fumbled with the key.

Your eyes met at the exact same moment - yours lifting from the office door just as Trent’s eyes drifted from the closed computer room.

“Hey,” you greeted, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

Trent’s gaze flickered to your lips before settling back on your eyes, a subtle shift in his expression. “Hey,” he replied, his tone soft and casual, with an undertone of something more.

The corridor felt oddly intimate, the quiet hum of the lights and distant echoes were all you could hear. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, gently clearing your throat.

Trent massaged the back of his shoulder, having had to stare at a computer for a number of hours, a gesture that revealed his own weariness.

“Long day?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nodded, briefly looking down before meeting his eyes again. “Caught up on some stuff with Wataru. And you?”

“Same,” Trent said with a small shrug, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. “Online seminar ran late.”

You stood there for a moment as the hallway seemed to close in around you, your small smiles communicating a quiet understanding.

“You heading out now?” Trent asked gently, his voice almost hesitant as if not wanting to break the moment.

“Yeah, just heading home. I'm assuming you're the same.” You replied, shifting your bag once more.

“Yep,” Trent said, his eyes meeting yours.

"Walk with me?" You tilted your head to the end of the hallway where the stairs led downstairs.

He looked over, swallowing as he nodded his head. "Sure."

You both turned, your shoulders grazing ever so slightly as you walked in what felt like a comfortable silence together, descending the stairs.

You walked side by side toward the building’s exit. Brian, stationed by the manually operated door on the same wall as the now-locked automatic ones, gave it a gentle push open.

"See you tomorrow, Brian." You expressed with a genuine smile, giving him a small wave.

"See you, love. Have a good night, son." He replied warmly.

"You too." Trent added.

He stepped aside though as he turned slightly, his body angled to give you clear passage. With a subtle sweep of his hand, he motioned for you to go ahead before him.

You slipped past, your back brushed lightly against his chest, the brief contact making your stomach flip in an instant.

The sensation caught you off guard, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You felt like a schoolgirl again, every accidental touch with a crush igniting a fire in your limbs.

Crush? You blinked, shaking the thought out of your head quickly. Nope, nope. That’s not it.

You exhaled quietly, trying to steady yourself, looking back as Trent caught up beside you.

A brisk gust of wind whipped around you both. Instinctively, you tucked the loose strands of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear, crossing your arms over your chest to keep warm.

Trent shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Getting colder,” you commented.

“No shit,” Trent agreed, his voice a bit strained against the chill. “Summer ended quick.”

"You can talk, you weren’t even in the country," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance.

Trent didn’t miss a beat, replying almost instantly, "you didn’t even work here then, how would you know?"

You opened your mouth to respond but hesitated, the words not quite forming in time. Trent noticed and grinned, his smugness unmistakable.

“Someone stalking my Insta?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break out. “Please. You think you’re that interesting?”

Trent shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can’t blame ya. I mean, half the world’s got eyes on me.”

“Half the world, huh?” You shot back, arching a brow. “I didn’t realise your four friends counted as ‘half the world' now.”

He chuckled, tucking his chin deeper into his jacket. “Still more friends than you’ve got.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied smoothly, flashing a grin. “I’ve got friends, too. Just.. a bit more exclusive.”

“Exclusive, eh?” Trent said, his tone mock-serious.

"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.

As you walked, your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, remembering how he’d said your name. It was brief, almost casual, but it had stuck with you. It had felt different, personal.

And now, it replayed in your head, over and over.

Without fully realising it, you broke the silence. “You said my name.”

Trent’s steps slowed as he processed your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What?”

You looked down, cheeks flushed from the cold - or maybe something else. “When you left my office earlier, you called me by my name.”

Trent pressed his bottom lip up to his top as he thought back. “Pretty sure I’ve said your name before.”

“Not to me,” you said, glancing up at him with a hopeful look.

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so important?”

“Because.. it is,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “To me, it is.”

Trent's muscles relaxed as his eyes roved over your features. “The bar's in hell, huh?”

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, cutting through the chill. You nudged his arm with your hand.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest to trap the heat.

You finally approached Trent’s car, and he turned to you with a nod before pressing the unlock button on his keys.

You watched as he walked closer to his car door and opened it. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by your voice, again.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said, raising your voice slightly to cut through the wind.

Trent's lips twitched, biting his bottom one to hold back from taking any credit. “I didn’t make your coffee.”

“Don’t lie, Trent. It doesn’t suit you." You remarked, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.

For a moment, his eyes stayed on you, lingering with a soft intensity. You held his gaze, feeling an unspoken connection. The seconds stretched on as you both seemed to take in the moment, your heart racing slightly in the charged silence.

Trent eventually looked away, fiddling with the keys in his hand.

“Get out of the way before I run you over." He quipped, his voice lighthearted.

“Charming,” you retorted.

Trent shook his head, getting into his car.

You began walking towards the pedestrian gate, hearing the engine of his car start up as you turned to give him one last glance before starting your short walk home.

...

Part 7

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy @witchhkitty222 @mountsgirlsblog

[judespoets]

hii could u pls write an imagine with trent x bellingham sister reader where reader is an f1 driver and gets into a crash and her brothers and trent get worried and when she gets home trent looks after her <3

crash | trent alexander-arnold

pairing: taa x fem!f1!reader

warnings: mentions of crashing, hospitalization, wounds/blood

category: fluff/angst

a/n: i don’t know anything abt f1 so sorry if i did something wrong, also didn’t proofread yet maybe i will soon lol

it was a big day, maybe even the biggest one in your entire career. this race today is the opportunity to become someone great.

it was the day of your race today, and trent and your two brothers jude and jobe were all watching you for your big day.

Saying you were nervous was an understatement. You knew you earned your way here but actually being here with all the famous faces, it was just different.

As you stood on the starting line, you felt confident. You practiced a lot with your team for this and you were confident going into this race. But besides all, you were nervous. You really didn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend, trent was a real f1 fan and him watching you here was such an honor, you didn’t want him to judge you.

The first part of the race went good. Everything went smooth and you were living up to your and your teams expectations until you blinked for a second too long and in no time you accidentally left the road and your car flipped. Everything went so fast you couldn’t even comprehend what happened until you were feeling hot and tried to leave the car as soon as possible.

And you did it. But as you stood on the road, the adrenaline inside of you immediately vanished and you quickly felt your chest tighten, your breathing getting shorter and your legs giving out and everything went black.

The next thing you know is waking up in a bright, white room, monitors beeping in your ear with a loud sound, making you flinch immediately.

“Baby, oh my god.” You heard a voice from your left, scaring you slightly.

Looking to your left, you made out a face you knew all too well, a very worried Trent was all you saw.

He hurriedly stepped over to you from the chair he was sitting in, looking down at you with a very tired pair of eyes.

“Baby? How are you feeling?” He asked you, stroking you cheek with his hand softly.

“What? What is happening?” You asked him, obviously very confused about this whole situation.

“You had an accident, my love. A pretty bad one, i’m so glad you’re awake oh my god. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“I think I’m okay. What’s happened?”

“You came off the road and the car flipped. You got out luckily. But you fainted right after.” Trent spoke softly. “The doctor told me to get him right after you wake up. I’ll be right back, my love.” He said, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

And he was right. It took him like two seconds to come back with a doctor, taking his place next to you again.

“Miss Bellingham, great to see you awake again. To calm you down a little bit, you didn’t get any major injuries even though the crash was pretty bad. You suffered a whiplash and a fracture to your right wrist which will take about six weeks to heal with your cast. The whiplash can have different effects on you, it’s common to feel it in your neck and head while also suffering from nausea and dizziness. If we treat it right and you rest enough, you won’t take any long-term consequences from it. I know this will be a hard pill to swallow but concerning your Formula 1 career, it will take at least two to three months for you to be starting training again. It will take a lot of time and patience, but you will be back, that’s actually a privilege for your situation right now.”

“Wow” was all you could say right now. The news were extremely hard for you to comprehend right now, and Trent noticed that.

“Thank you, sir. We will definitely rest enough.” You heard your boyfriend say while you just stared at the wall right ahead of you.

“We will talk about all the treatments later on, for now just rest a little more.” The doctor said before walking out of the door again.

The sound of the door closing and the feeling of the familiar hand touching yours was the trigger point. The tears started to flow out of your eyes uncontrollably making you a sobbing mess. You didn’t know what to feel, everything just felt overwhelming right now.

Just a few hours ago you were excited to start the first major race of your life and now you were lying on this hospital bed not knowing how and when your career will start again.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I know it hard to understand right now, but you had so much luck. You could’ve been dead.” Trent said to you, his voice also slightly cracking while he took you into his arms.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Trent.” You admitted.

“I know, it’s okay. We’ll get you home as soon as possible and then you will rest and you will be back in no time and even stronger, baby. I know it’s a major setback but this can make you so much stronger. I’ll be with you every step of the way, trust me, my love.”

And he was right. You were back home after three days of hospitalization.

Walking through the front door of your shared home, all you wanted to do was lay down on the couch after a long car ride with Trent. You were so glad it was summer right now and Trent didn’t need to be back in training for at least three weeks.

“Come on, lay down, baby.” Trent said while guiding you to the living room, propping the pillows up to make you comfortable. “Is it okay like this?” He made sure.

“Yeah it’s fine. Thank you.” You said to him, laying your head back feeling the exhaustion kick in immediately. You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath through your nose.

“I’ll bring you some water, babe. Jude and Jobe will also come in like an hour to spend a little time here.”

“Thanks, babe.” You told him as he handed you a cup full of fresh water.

“Do you need anything else? Some food maybe?” Trent asked you quietly as he noticed your scrunched up face showing your headache.

“No i’m good for now. I think i just need to sleep, i feel the nausea and the headache kick in, to be honest.” You answered him honestly.

“Okay, I’ll leave then.” Trent said as he got up and started to leave the room.

“Babe!” You called out as loud as you could right now.

“What’s up?” He said, turning around quickly.

“Can you please stay, i need you right now.” You admitted quietly, you were possibly feeling the worst you’ve ever felt in a long time and all you wanted was for your boyfriend to make it okay again.

“Yeah, of course. Come here.” You heard a voice whisper in your ear quietly as you felt the strong arms you knew all too well wrap around your fragile and exhausted body and a kiss being pressed to your forehead.

And that was what made the pain go away for some time.

And the next few weeks weren’t any different. You fought with nausea and headaches a lot but Trent and your brothers were there to help you. They made it all seem so much less painful and miserable, you were fast recovered and ready to go back to training to come back even stronger than you felt before.

[loviingpedri]

hi:) can u pls write a fic where trent has a secret gf (there’s no reason to keep her a secret, he just likes having her to himself and wants their relationship to be just theirs for a while) but his friends/brothers notice him always ditching them to meet/call ‘someone’ and they start teaching him like damnn are u in love or something??? thank you :)

secret lover - trent a.a

prompt: request

warnings: grammar issues

credits to all owners for images

trent was the best boyfriend. you couldn’t ask for someone better than him.

he prioritized you. he valued you. to him, his whole life is you.

keeping his dedication to you, it was a mutual agreement to be a secret couple. you loved it. it was adorable how you would be far away from him in a bar while he tried to sneak away to see you. how he would hide his phone when he got your messages. or when he simply left parties very early because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

of course it was getting suspicious. how he would step out of team dinners for almost 20 minutes to call you. his absence at places weren’t going to be dismissed either.

“hey trent. are you going to my place later for some games?”

“i don’t think so, mate. got some things to do.” once again, his friends were disappointed that he was ditching them again.

“what’s going on with you trent? that’s like the tenth time you bailed on us. don’t tell me you’ve met someone and haven’t thought to tell us.” the suspicion was rising once again.

“of course not. you’re my best mate, i can’t keep secrets from you.” lying through his cheeky smile, trent had relief wash over him as his friends just kept walking.

deciding to cancel your movie night since it was getting hard to keep your relationship a secret now, trent had decided to go to his friend’s house. if trent didn’t go there, they would come to him. and hiding was not a safe option for you.

“i’ll take some time to call you, yeah?” it wasn’t trent without dedicating some of his fun time towards you. it was hard for him to simply leave. he wanted to be with you every chance he could get.

“don’t worry about it. just have fun.” you kissed him goodbye and watched him leave.

trent took his sweet time getting there. it was the effort of being there, not how he got there.

“no way, trent actually came to join in on the fun.” getting out of his car, he was instantly met with shock.

“don’t push it mate.” after an hour of just playing straight video games and snacking, trent was missing you bad. he excused him to go call you.

“hey babe, how’s it going?” seeing your face made him instantly smile.

“not bad. just beat all of them in mario kart though. i’m a professional.”

“i see you got a new hobby now.”

“yeah. i might stay another hour, but i do miss you a lot.”

unexpectedly, his friends all heard the last sentence.

“do you have a special someone on the other line?” he was shocked, he just turned off the phone without even hanging up.

“what are you on about?” acting dumb was not his speciality.

“said you missed someone, i wonder who.”

“just my mom. don’t overthink it.”

“you’ve been ditching us for the past 2 months to go see your mom? don’t lie trent, you’ve been talking to someone.” he was in a sticky situation. he had no more words to say.

“trent, are you in love? you’re turning red a little bit.” just the thought of you made him light up.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he touched the back of his head in nervousness.

“arnold is really in love.”

all of a sudden, you broke into a laugh which was heard in the silent room. that laugh was definitely not from his mother as they’ve met her before. trent cursed at himself for not hanging up as his friends demanded to meet you. the secret was finally out.