#lfc oneshot

[furybymoonlight]

Master of Assists

gifs by @trenty

Trent was a master of assists, both on the field and between the sheets.

Genre/Warning: NSFW!, smut, comfort, fluff, make-up sex (kind of)

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x OC/reader

***

“Trent, no, this is crazy.”

The man kissed and nibbled on her lips, palms glided up along her thighs enticingly before slipping beneath her dress to finally squeezed her arse. Every fine hair on her body stood up, her pain dimmed at the spark of erotic sensation that he was giving her.

“You’re in pain babe…just…let me assist you. I am good at that…..haven’t you heard?”

***

AN: Unbeta’d. Sorry in advance for any errors as I’m not a native. I just write for fun (and sanity). This was supposed to be a drabble but all the words just kept pouring out. OTL

Another wave of pain punched her in the gut, but she tried her best to keep the smile on her face, nodding here and there to look like she was following the conversation with her aunts and cousins. God, the days leading up to her monthly period were the worst. All she wanted was to curl up in the bed with her boyfriend, with a cup of tea on the bedside and a heat pad on her belly. This was not possible at the moment because one, she was currently celebrating her mother’s birthday party with families and friends and two, she was currently at odds with her man.

She stole a look at her boyfriend from the corner of her eyes, who was currently talking with his father and hers, as well as some of her uncles. Wearing a dark lime dress shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and khaki-colored trousers, he looked so handsome. Then again, Trent had always looked amazing in everything…and nothing. Now…if only they were on speaking terms...

Her stomach suddenly twisted again, painful enough that she wished she had a seat at that moment, but it wasn’t her day. Being such a social butterfly, her mom had reserved a small courtyard in a restaurant for a standing garden party. There were a few seats, but they were all taken by the elders. The muscles in her belly contracted again and this time she winced, almost stumbled to the side. She really needed to sit down. Excusing herself from the conversation, she made her way towards the restaurant building.

Trent saw her smiling from the side and had to hold himself back not to go straight to her. She looked so beautiful, he was itching to trace the smile on her face with his fingertips…then his lips, but the memory of their fight last night held him back.

They didn’t fight often as a couple. Being long-time best friends turned lovers, their understanding of each other was on the next level of intimate. Since she was currently studying abroad, they physically had little time together. It was not easy, but they made it work, and whenever they could be together, they usually made the most of it.

Their fight the night before was a rare occurrence. Now that they’re entering the second year of their relationship, Trent felt like it was time to go public. Sure, their families and close friends had known about them for a long time, but he wanted to make it official to the world. He was tired of being careful with her in public, didn’t like treating her as if she was just a family friend. He was also fed up with their hidden dates as well. She on the other hand, didn’t think it was the right time. Having entered her last term in Uni, she was focusing on her final project and finding a job. The last thing she needed was to have public eyes scrutinizing her every move. Neither of them wanted to back down, and they both said some words to each other that they instantly regretted. However, pride prevented them to instantly rectify the matters, which led to the still unresolved tension between them.

He replied to a question from his father before taking another glance at her. It was then that he realized something was not right. Her smile seemed forced, while her eyes lacked their usual luster. He felt a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach when the next second, she swayed a bit to the side. She recovered quickly that it wasn’t obvious for the people in her circle of conversation, but he was just so in tune with her, that for him, it was as clear as day. He was beginning to walk towards her when she made her exit from the courtyard in a haste.

Dropping down to the first available chair that she saw, a sigh of relief left her mouth. The courtyard and the building were connected by a hallway with a few chairs and tables along the strip, as well as restrooms. As it was past lunchtime, the area was currently empty, of which she was grateful. She closed her eyes, leaning against the back rest. It was almost summer, so the weather was warm, but the softly blowing wind gave her a bit of comfort. The calling of her name, accompanied by a familiar scent, her favorite, made her open her eyes.

“Babe…are you okay? Should we go to a doctor?”

She found Trent kneeling in front of her, worry apparent in his dark coffee eyes. She gave him a small reassuring smile.

“Not really…but I’ll live, just my PMS kicking in.”

She winced again as her stomach coiled.

“You’re in pain. Do you want to go home?”

He said softly, cupping her face in one palm, thumb pad softly brushed her cheeks to soothe her. She was his princess, he didn’t like seeing her in even a bit of discomfort.

‘’Can’t. Have to stay at least until the cake cutting.’’

She muttered, closing her eyes again while leaning her face against his large palm, seeking comfort in his warmth.

“How can I help?”

“Cuddling with me in bed…giving me a heatpad, or hot tea, or better, orgasm…lots of things really, none for now though, pity.”

She said without even thinking, her eyes still shut.

“Orgasm huh?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she found her boyfriend looking at her, dark autumn eyes glinted with desire and mischief.

“Well yes, but we can’t-”

She squealed before covering her mouth with one hand as he swept her in his arms. Ten seconds later they were in an empty restroom, where he easily put her on the counter between the dual sinks. Her dress bunched up her thighs as he parted her legs so he could stand between her lower limbs.

“Trent, no, this is crazy.”

The man kissed and nibbled on her lips, palms glided up along her thighs enticingly before slipping beneath her dress to finally squeezed her arse. Every fine hair on her body stood up, her pain dimmed at the spark of erotic sensation that he was giving her.

“You’re in pain babe…just…let me assist you. I am good at that…..haven’t you heard?”

He said against her lips, before trailing kisses along her jawline, then further along the column of her neck. She instinctively tilted her head to accommodate him. Her mind already shutting down, she didn’t realize that he had sneakily unbuttoned the front of her dress.

“Well…you’re kind of a master at that…or so they said – babe!”

She squealed as he countered her cheeky response with a bite on the swell of her breast.

“Or so they said? I guess I need to prove my ability to you then.”

His hand already slipped around her back to unclip her bra but she stilled his movement, though half-heartedly.

“Baby…somebody may walk in.”

He could see the warring conflict in her pretty orbs and in the way her tongue swiped her bottom lip due to her anxiousness. She didn’t mean to tempt him, but he instantly felt himself hardened even more at that simple act. As if he ever needed any more incentive to ravish her. They once had a random debate on what’s the best pressure level for his car summer tire where she stared at him for a second too long, lips adorably jutted in disagreement and suddenly, there was a literal pressure against his jeans. He was so whipped for her, it was almost laughable.

“I’ve locked the door…now stop thinking…just let me take care of you love, all right?”

His palm gently unknotted the tense muscles on her back and she sighed in bliss, her body relaxing under his touch. He bared her breasts then, taking one hard peak into his mouth, fingers slipping into her slick entrance. He groaned into her creamy flesh, she was already soaked, a bit faster than he had predicted. Looked like her PMS came with a silver lining.

She tugged his head back, hissing as he bit on the hardened tip, reluctant to let the pebbled bud go. She tugged harder and he reluctantly let go.

‘’Need you in me, now.’’

She said in almost a plea. There was a sense of yearning in her tone that called to his primal side. Anything she wished for, he’d provide.

His trousers and pants down in record time, he pushed her panties to the side and plunged into her in one smooth move. He grunted silently. God, she felt so perfect around him, being in her was his literal definition of heaven. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him, urging him to move with a sway of her hip. He moved then, thrusting into her again and again, wordlessly leading her in their carnal dance.

Pleasure scorched her insides, pulsating stronger with every slam from him that it threatened to burn her to ashes. A drop of sweat trickled down Trent’s temple, along his defined jawline and she couldn’t resist a lick. His eyes flared at her sensuous act, the rhythm of his thrusts growing erratic.

A loud mewl just left her mouth when the conversing sound of people nearby reached them. Their eyes widened, bodies froze for a few seconds, but then she saw his smirk and her inner muscle clenched in response. Oh, she just instinctively knew he was going to do something that she loved and hated at the same time. Pulling himself out, he made her stand before turning her around so they both faced the mirror. Her legs trembled and she put her hands on the counter to stabilize herself. He spread her legs before burrowing into her again from behind, grazing her sweet spot immediately, eliciting a cry of pleasure from her which was thankfully muffled by his left palm. Meanwhile, his right hand fondled her breasts, alternating between squeezing and pinching the twin mounds. His eyes locked on hers through the mirror, his low whisper on her ear sent a bone-deep pleasure straight to her core.

“You’re so responsive today….I love it…but you have to be careful baby, can’t let anyone other than me hear your pretty moans all right.”

She nodded and he released her mouth, left hand skimmed over her abdomen before settled over her flooded center, twisting and flicking the swollen bundle of nerves right above it. The sound of people grew louder, but he kept rocking against her, even dared to up his pace. Her climax came then, her body shook, her vision blurred, she felt like seeing stars for a moment. A taste of copper burst into her mouth as she bit her lip so harshly to prevent a lewd scream from coming out.

Trent’s jaw tautened, muscles strained as her inner walls squeezed him so wonderfully, sending white hot pleasure all over him. His movement faltered for a few seconds, just in time for the footsteps outside the restroom to fade away. He resumed then in a high gear, which proved difficult since she still gripped him so strongly. Keeping his gaze on the mirror, he saw her eyes fluttered open to look straight at him. Her eyes still glazed with ecstasy, yet unexpectedly her reddened lips curled into a temptress smile. She pressed herself backward into him so that he sank deeper. She spoke then, a mere whisper, but its effect on him was enormous.

“Fill me up babe.”

Her words were his order, and he combusted then and there, spraying ropes of white inside of her. Closing his eyes, he nestled his face on her shoulder, hugging her from the back, still thrusting into her in a slow, uneven pace as he rode his high.

“I am sorry baby…”

Trent broke the comfortable silence between them when they had finished putting on their clothes. She looked at him questioningly.

‘’About last night…I am sorry, really. Your study is important…and I of all people should realize the most how savage the media can be. You can take all the time you need.”

She hugged him then, kissing the corner of his jaw before giving him a heartfelt smile. Her heart suddenly felt light.

‘’I am sorry too babe. We should have talked it out better last night…and thank you.”

She cupped his face, delicate fingers tracing the line of his plump lips.

“I won’t ask you to wait for long, you know. Just a few months. God knows how much it pains me to see you linked with random models and actresses on those trashy gossip columns.”

Hugging her back, he nibbled on the tips of her fingers.

“You’re the only one for me.”

There was nothing but pure honesty in his voice.

“I know, those things still vex me though.”

She pouted a bit but smiled again as she then realized that her pain had gone. She tiptoed to kiss him on the lips, her hands entwined behind his neck.

‘’My cramp has magically vanished. Thank you baby, I love you.’’

Trent shook his head. Dark caramel eyes shone brightly at her, full of endearment.

‘’I love you more. You know it’s always my pleasure to assist you, princess, so thank you.’’

He said before sweeping her up in loving, toe curling kiss, engulfing her with his warmth.

Master of assists, indeed.

End Note Going through period cramps and this popped up in my head, and writing feels like a good form of coping with all these transfer chaos, contract uncertainties, and Trent poutiness last night :A:, This could be read as a standalone, but in my head this is in the same universe as my See Me (Now) three-part stories. So, check this out if you’re interested for more! Thanks for reading! Lemme know what u think <3

[liverpool-enjoyer]

for the first time in like five months heres uefa high as tweets!!! also new uefa high one shot coming later today hehe

part three

part four

part five

part six

part seven

[janeleclerc]

★ my love, you are worth it all.

SUMMARY: Y/N and trent are absolutely buzzing after the win against united.

WARNINGS: none, fluff!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cannot believe this win fucking happened holy- also I GUESS YOU COULD SAY I’M BACK NOW

Once the full-time whistle was blown, Y/N jumped up from her seat, cheering and smiling. Her eyes caught Trent’s and he sent her a toothy grin, the adrenaline of the win and the happiness of the result radiating off his body.

He needed to kiss her, and now.

He was the fastest to walk through the tunnel to see her, practically sprinting. She was the fastest to go and meet him, her feet as fast as a cheetah’s.

Once he spied her standing in the corner with a smile on her face, his heart started dancing. Her smile erupted into an even bigger one, her arms opening for him.

Once they were wrapped in each other’s bodies, he felt truly at home. And she could say the same. Small kisses were shared with the pair, both of them being cautious that they weren’t alone. That didn’t stop Trent from snaking his hands around her waist, though.

“I am so, so fucking proud of you, baby. You deserve it, you deserve all of it.” She whispered into his ear. He grinned again, giving her another kiss.

“Thank you for coming today, thank you for everything - my God, I’m so happy right now, I can’t even say proper sentences,” he breathed. She let out a laugh, the contagious laugh he adored, the laugh that would light up a whole room.

“Always, Trent, always. My love, you are worth it all.” She smiled, cupping his cheeks. He gave her another kiss, unable to control himself.

“I love you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“I love you too, Trent.”

They shared a few minutes of comfortable and loving silence before he broke it.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

She smiled and nodded hysterically, excited to see how they’ll celebrate tonight.

“Oh yes, we shall.”

[slutfortrent]

tomorrow - trent alexander arnold

massive thanks to @cosmic-parker for coming up with the idea and helping me out! i luv you <333 first fic of 2023? wtf- most likely the only fic with how slow i am- hope you enjoy, lots of love, demoooo 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Where are you, baby? Trent types as he soundlessly, but with a slight scamper, strides down the corridor.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing it. And if his best man-the title which caused an abundance of disagreements amidst Andy Robertson, Tyler and Marcel Alexander-Arnold found out he was doing this- it would conclude with an mixture of profanity words. But he’s decided to listen to his heart this time, rather than his head. Taught by his mother- whom was the significant woman in his life, other than you, who is the one tightening his tie tomorrow, fixing his collars as he cries his nervousness for the special day.

Tomorrow was the wedding day of you both. The day you finally would express your love towards each other, not that you don’t every day, though this time in the form of a selection of Vows, drafted by you both. Tomorrow isn’t a day like any other. It’s the moment where your world stops, and for a second, you don’t forget how lucky you are. Trent’s mind had been like a rollercoaster, his emotions mixed all over the place. Even months before the wedding, the boy had been pacing around your house, making sure everything was organised. The final weeks before the day, he’d find himself making silly mistakes during training, or questioning his teammates about how their day to remember proceeded. The man was so in love with you, and that’s why he wants to make sure you know- for the last time as his fiancé.

Your phone buzzes on top of the bathroom counter next to the sink. Just as you’d finished brushing your teeth and wiping your mouth clean with a towel, the screen brightens and a notification pops up.

A giggle leaves your lips as you read the message, heart pounding at the words displayed. A text from Trent voicing ‘where are you?’ makes you shake your head. A deep breath leaving exhaling your nose.

‘In my room, just finished cleaning my teeth. You, okay?’ You type, before placing your phone into your hoodie pocket- selected from a certain scouser’s wardrobe. Claiming if you wasn’t going to be in each other’s presence for at least 24 hours- you’d need something of each other’s.

Not a minute later, your phone is vibrating, causing you to hastily have the gadget back in your hand, eyes glazing over the text.

‘I’m good- just couldn’t sleep. What are you doing now?’

You skim over the dialogue, eyes fixated onto the screen as your hand reaches to turn of the bathroom light. Stepping out of the room, you head towards your bed for the night, placing yourself on top of the sheets to type your response.

‘About to sleep T. My eyes are half dozing as I send this message.’ You note, before switching of your device and placing it aloft the bedside table, slipping into the warmth of the bed sheet. In the twinkling of an eye, the screen pops back on with a flash- lighting up the room. Beside you, laid Rachel Robertson, scrolling through her social media or likely questioning her parents how her children had been. Undoubtedly, herself and Andy were delighted to both be such meaningful positions on yours and Trent’s special day. The four of you spending many days off, switching between either houses, though they were down the road, catching up. The females chuckling at their foolish partners mannerisms. Partly, they were both ecstatic about the idea of having a small break from their children, the young Robertson’s could be a handful at times.

‘Come meet me? In the lobby?’ The message Trent sends presents, inducing a sigh to pass your lips. You tilt your head in the direction of Rachel, weighing up your options. Your head is demanding you to acquiesce with the wedding tradition of not seeing your partner 24 hours before the momentous day. However, something inside you is tempting you to see him.

Eyes peering back to the beaming screen, your fingers type, ‘Trent.’ Lip gnawing in anticipation.

Three dots appear within a flash, replying back to your response.

‘Please baby, I need my goodnight kiss.’ Trent declares, coaxing a smile to form upon your face, cheeks rising with heat.

And this is what persuades you to slide out the bed and slip your trainers on, briskly texting the scouser you’d meet him in 5 minutes. Tying your laces, Rachel grabs your attention-

“Where are you going?” She questions, pupils scanning over yourself- fitted with a pair of joggers, a hoodie of Trent and some trainers.

Beckoning your head within her direction- a puzzled emotion displayed from the Scot. Clearing your throat, you respond. “Just going to head down to the lobby for a minute, grab some water- my head wont shut off.”

She doesn’t interrogate your choices, though you grasped that she knew your response was untruthful, due to your fast pace tone of voice and an even more perplexed expression. She wasn’t going to argue with you over your special day, so attempting to modify your decision was out of her books.

“Okay, don’t be too late.” She smiles, before looking back at phone. That’s your signal to vacate the bedroom and find the scouser waltzing the corridors for you so desperately. “I wont be,” you shake your head, heading towards the door of your hotel room.

Fixed in the hallway of the residence for the night, your eyes scan the walls for a sign leading towards the lobby. To your right, you see an arrow facing the stairs leading to the ground floor, where you supposed your lover would be waiting for you.

Trudging down as you follow the commands stated in front of you, taking a left around the corner where the stairs were located, your body collides with another- a bulked, muscular physique as your head thuds into their chest, a groan leaving your side from the impact.

Your vision leaves the individuals warmth and your eyes glisten up to face the other in front of you.

“Sorry- Oh, T, Hi.” You smile, a slight shock to of seen him so soon.

Trent chuckles at your wonder and bewilderment, bringing his hand up to tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Hi sweet.”

Sight observing a state of anxiousness, you bring your hand to stroke the apple of his cheek, the soft skin warming to your touch. “You alright?” You nod.

Trent sighs, eyes fixating towards the ground. “I’m nervous,” puckering his lips.

Your eyes scrunch in confusion, a tinge of sadness for the scouser makes you want to cuddle him until he cannot breathe. “For what? Talk to me?” you guide.

His eyes still beckon over the sight of your shoes, glued to surface of the carpet. A deep inhale is followed by an breathily exhale. “Everything. Tomorrow, becoming your husband- what if I'm not good enough, the-“ He notes as you cut him off.

“Trent,” You take his larger hand in yours, thumb fondling over the palm. “Come on, what’s making you think like this?” you question.

“I don’t know really. You are so special, and the only girl that’s made me the happiest man ever, I just don’t want to mess things up.” He replies softly. Making your heart thud immensely.

You lean in to peck his lips, a slight tinge of alcohol still present that you knew would be encouraged by his teammates, much to Hendo’s disagreement. As you pull away, your eyes meet his, “Let’s go for a walk outside hm, a bit of fresh air is probably needed.”

The pair of you make it outside, the cold temperature demanding you to snuggle close to each other, the attraction of warmth too pleasurable. You notice a bench in the distance, dragging the 5ft 9 male in the direction of the seating. You both take seat, the view presenting a small lake, lighten by a street lamp.

Your hands never lost contact, the touch becoming comforting to you both. Something one may have required more than the other.

“Talk to me.” You start, your body turning to face the man next to you, in less than 24 hours, you could finally call him your husband, something you had always dreamt of as a little girl.

Trent shrugs, “Just nervous, yknow? Like I don’t want to mess tomorrow up. Its our day, and I know you have been waiting for something so magical since forever.”

Your eyes widen at his words, lip jittering out in despair, “Hey, you aren’t going to ruin tomorrow okay. Its going to be the best day of our lives. Well, I hope it will live up to the champions league final. But I do know that it is going to be immense. You have nothing to worry about.” You nod.

This time Trent’s bringing your face as approach to his, lips meeting yours with an instance. “I love you.” To which you reply back, “I love you too.”

“If anything, I should be the one stressing. What if I fall over in my dress? My shoes, no idea how I'm going to walk in those?” You both share a laugh, Trent hand clutching yours tighter.

“Remember when you had too much to drink at Ox’s birthday party?” you shake your head at his words, eyes closing in embarrassment at your actions. “I even had to hold your shoes when we were leaving cause’ your feet were so sore.”

“That’s going to be me tomorrow.” Tucking your head into Trent’s lap, raising it after his next response.

Trent smiles, “We’ve had some eventful times together.”

Your eyes light up at his words, floods of memories coming back to you. “Remember our first date?”

Now it’s Trent’s turn to shake his head, “When we got mobbed by fans? Can’t say that’s what I had in mind.” He tucks you closer into his chest.

“Still ended the night well though, first kiss in Maccies carpark is unforgettable.” You chuckle.

“The boys still take the piss out of me every time I walk into the changing rooms, should’ve lied and said the night went so smooth- rather than letting them know we ended up stuffing our faces with burgers and fries.”

You gasp, “Can’t believe you went against your dietary requirements. Shocking that!”

Trent chuckles under his breath, “Listen!” His voice raises with the intention of proving his point. “It was me day off, give it a rest babe.”

You giggle at his words, hand leaving his to cover your mouth. “Alright, alright.”

“Now its me turn to tell one of my favourite memories about us.” Trent starts, “Remember when I took ya to see me mural? And ya said you preferred Hendo’s more?”

Covering your eyes in mock shame, “I cant lie, Hendo’s looking pretty good in that painting.”

Trent gasps at the verbalisation he’s heard, “You being serious? He’s a dad!”

The trees in the setting swayed in line with the wind. The breeziness making goose bumps raise upon your skin attributable to the sharp, nail biting cold. Both were snuggled against one another, Trent’s arm perched upon the lower part of your back.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, the pair of you scanning through your camera roll, snickering and yapping about old pictures.

“Aww, you recall this?” Nudging the phone into his hands, the bottom of your back adjusting to the loss of tepidity from the man beside you.

“Of course, I do. One of me favourite moments in my career.” He smirks. “I remember twitter went mad after it. Wanted to show me love and appreciation towards ya in the form of my cherished platform.” Trent responds.

One of the first games you made an appearance to support your partner in, ended with a mass of messages and a collection of butterflies whooshing within your stomach. Trent had decided his next goal occurred would see him performing with a love heart into the crowd. The direction was to yourself and ended with a smile never parting from your features.

“On another note. You are wearing a tie which matches the flowers tomorrow right? No red for Liverpool-“

Trent shakes his head at your mannerisms, rolling his eyes. “Robbo suggested it. Hendo’s sorted it out though. They are both buzzing for me to get married. Jordan keeps saying his son’s growing up.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that followed. When it came to Hendo and Trent. Their friendship was inseparable, similar to him and Andy, though, The age on Henderson made himself perform a father-like figure towards Trent throughout his career. It settled your nerves knowing he had someone to offer love and ease when you weren’t around. Especially times when he was outside of Liverpool, away from you for handful of days, he could struggle. It calmed your nerves knowing he had that someone, and Jordan was more than happy to play that role.

You take a deep breath, “I can’t believe tomorrow is actually the day, finally calling myself an Alexander-Arnold.” A soft grin arising. “Wonder what your vows are going to be like..” You question, lips puckering in the sense of curiosity.

“Me vows? Going to be absolutely breath taking. Worked me arse off writing this essay.” He teases, pressing a peck to your lips.

Shoulders shaking at his response, nodding intensively. Sometimes he did come out with some berserk statements. But it made you love him more and more each day.

Trent grabs your hands into his own, shuffling so you are facing each other, now separated from your snuggled position. He stands up from the bench, fleetly rubbing his hands on his jeans to remove any creases, before placing them back into yours. He nods, “Listen, let me act out how tomorrow is going to go.” He starts, as you giggle. “So, we say our vows- blah blah blah, mine will be the most emotional, heartfelt-“

“Woah.” You stop him, disagreeing with his opinion of his own. “What?” you exclaim.

“Shh, baby. You are interrupting my performance.” Trent snarls, raising a finger to his lips as a visual instruction for you to listen. He starts again, “So we do the vows, astounding the crowd as I do.” You roll your eyes, as he contuines. “I’ll grab the ring, then place it on your finger like this-“ He takes your hand, holding your ring finger in his own, and pretends to slip a ring on. Your heart flutters at his gestures, hand raising to your heart in a state of awe.

“Then once you have done the same for me, and its time to kiss.” He pulls you up from the bench, a thrilling rush flowing through your system, heart pulsating out your chest. “I’ll lean in like this, hopefully me mum’s crying so much she doesn’t see much or ya dad isn't watching for my sake.” He guides your head to face his own, a finger tickling your lower chin. A smirk emerges, as you snake your arms round his neck. He reaches to move the unwanted baby hairs, flourished around your face, tucking them behind your ears.

Trent leans into your features, lips softly attaching your own, moving at a sweet pace, nothing too heavy. He pulled away gently, catching his breath, “Need too,” a second kiss, “Get in,” lips hoover over yours, “as many kisses as possible,” allowing a small amount of tongue to slide in, skimming the tip. “As after tonight,” He presses a kiss to your cheek, “The next will be as husband and wife.” Planting a final smooch to your forehead.

“Trent?” You breathe.

“Mhm.”

“Lets get married baby.”

[blueaetherr]

Trent imagines pls🥰

in another universe

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): angst?

summary: the one where the time comes to split

now playing: unholy matrimony by giveon

A Sunday afternoon was spent by Trent and Y/N cleaning out their shared bedroom. Not for a spring clean, not to make room for a third party, and definitely not to make room for one another. Shoes, clothes, jewellery—all packed separately with no intention of unpacking everything together again—it was the beginning of the process to rid themselves of each other. 

After some time and a while, the couple—ex-couple, that is—decided to not go through with their relationship, everything if you considered how much one's life revolved around the other. It was a decision that came rather late and purposely delayed. I mean there was so much to them, so much potential to Trent and Y/N that now would remain behind as waste and abandoned ideas. From the wedding to the family, the possibility was simply reduced to ash, and they had to accept it.

Opening their (the) closet door, Trent sighed when he noticed two pieces of clothing that had yet to be removed. He turned to the young woman sitting on their (the) bed. He called, "Y/N?"

Y/N, tired and near withdrawn, glanced away from the box she was closing up. "Yes, Trent?" There was so much seriousness when the two spoke, almost like they already forgot everything else that a conversation could hold. Like fun, and happiness, and pleasant vibes; now all that remained was something so strict and monotone. They were so drained of the good times that they used to have.

"You planning on taking your dress out of the closet any time soon?"

Y/N froze at the mention of her dress. Her wedding dress.

Their (the) closet was empty, apart from her white wedding gown and his black tuxedo. It was a simple action, to remove clothes from its closet yet they remained untouched for days. The two hadn't found the heart to touch their wedding attires, let alone discard them. It was so much heartbreak and gloom, especially when there was so much past good that came it, so many memories that reminded them of everything that led up to what could have been a marriage. 

The wedding gown that Y/N bought with her bridesmaids, the suit that Trent bought with his friends, the wedding gown and the suit that they showed one another days after purchase because Trent and Y/N were just that impatient. Maybe it was a just thing they did; their wedding day wasn't just halted until further notice, it was simply gone and would never make a recovery.

"I just don't see how it's that important."

"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N glanced at Trent with rather exaggerated shock. The football player let out a laugh. "How can you not care about what you're going to wear, Trent? It's your wedding day," she took a seat on the edge of their bed, "I mean surely you want to look good for that."

"Of course I do," Trent let out a long sigh and hummed softly, adjusting his arms behind his head. Noticing the small pout across her lips, he let out a small laugh once again, barely trying to hide his grin. It would show even behind his palm. "But I'm sure a suit I pick out won't be any different to what I already have. Besides, I think it'll be your wedding day more than it'll be mine, and that's okay. I'm okay with that. Everyone will only be looking at me when you aren't there."

"Okay, okay," Y/N mumbled, looking away to avoid Trent's smirk. For someone who received compliment after compliment from the same person every day, she had yet to get used to it all. "At least... at least just stick to the theme."

Trent listed off his fingers, "Black tux, white shirt, black bow tie."

Excitedly, Y/N offered her hand which Trent took a hold of and interlocked their fingers. "That right there."

Y/N harshly gripped the tape in her hand. It hurt, really, to think about everything, to think about all that could be, to wonder that maybe things could've worked out. But she had to shake her hand, let go and say to herself, it isn't going to work out. You've tried already tried but it's hopeless. 

"Uh," she scratched her head, "yeah. Um, soon. I'll get to it soon." Y/N didn't believe her own words, and neither did Trent because he felt the exact same. He, too, didn't know when he would build the courage to rid himself of his wedding attire.

Y/N blew out a huff, rubbing her hands over her face. "My parents are going to be so mad."

"I'm pretty sure we can get our money back on some things. Like the venue, the villa—

Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Not everything's about the money, Trent." 

That one would always remain one of Trent's flaws in the relationship. He was very materialistic. That's how he got through to other people, including Y/N, even if it felt forced. He asked Y/N to be his girlfriend with an expensive necklace, he bought her expensive clothes and jewellery. The act of giving excessively wasn't inherently bad until you realise Trent's gifts came as a result of his wrongs and arguments. Like when he proposed to her; the action came a week after a big argument. 

"Sorry," His face fell. It was something that Trent was trying to get over, valuing money over everything else. But clearly, he hadn't tried enough to save the relationship. "I didn't mean to offend—"

His voice was interrupted by Y/N's ringtone sounding across the room. The instrumental for Here Comes The Bride.

Alone together, Trent and Y/N were in a large hall for their first wedding rehearsal. They decided to arrive a bit earlier than everyone else, just to catch a moment for themselves.

"I don't think I even need to practice this," Y/N said as she moved around the hall effortlessly. Dancing, humming, smiling far too wide—this was her moment and she was enjoying it all a bit too much. "Like, I've had this in my mind since I was a kid."

"Oh yeah?" Trent tilted his head, almost like he was admiring his fiancée. "Walk me through it." Trent understood what this all met to Y/N. To have the perfect wedding, to have a moment to herself, to manifest every single detail she had envisaged in mind. He didn't mind stepping aside to let her lead the way.

"Oh, okay." She took Trent's hands and guided her back so he was further away from the entrance. She began to walk back, "So obviously you'll be standing at the altar. I'll walk down the aisle with," Y/N hummed a bit of Here Comes The Bride as she moved away from Trent, "playing, you know?"

"Maybe play the song," he encouraged, "to make this a bit easier for me to see."

Soon, Here Comes The Bride was softly playing in the large hall. "So this plays while I'm walking down the aisle, probably someone playing it on the organ preferably." She began to near Trent, with each step growing her smile, her happiness, all that she felt for her soon-to-be husband—everything there was to feel and experience in that very moment. "My niblings as the flower girls and ring bearer in front of me. My dad walking with me..."  

And there played out a memory that was all too stunning. With more smiles, more kind words, more displays of support, and more descriptions of the perfect wedding for Y/N and Trent—everything in abundance and comforting, all with Here Comes The Bride playing in the background.

But the more she heard that tune over time, the more that song sounded around a room before she answered a call, the more the uncertainty grew. The less Y/N felt like a bride, like a partner even. The less she felt like she was going to marry the love of her life. The more they began to drift apart, the less the two discussed the wedding and the marriage ahead of them. The more, finally, everything fell apart. After a while, the reality just sets in: they couldn't do it anymore.

"I really hate that we're ending like this, you know," Trent said, interrupting the silence in the room. The two had finished clearing out the room for the day, but they remained in their place refusing to speak to one another. Sighing when she didn't respond, he added, "But I should've known." 

That was where another problem lay for the two; they were never on the same page. While the relationship was two-sided, both Trent and Y/N felt like they were carrying most of the relationship's weight. The unspoken thoughts, the feelings, the confusion that came when something went wrong. That fault compromised everything they shared; believing that you and you yourself were carrying everything there was of a relationship while your partner was slacking felt so lonely, like you had no one to find comfort or confide in.

He asked, "Do you think we could've worked out, like for real?" It was more of a wonder than a question. He didn't direct it to Y/N; Trent placed it into the open for anyone to have their say on it. Maybe more opinions could put reality into perspective, that they simply weren't meant to be. Could they get back together, even if they are so hopeless?

But then he also hoped that Y/N would provide him with an answer. She was always one to rest easy with her decisions, always certain about everything she did or said. After all, she was his first opinion, and always seemed to have the right answers. Could we ever get back together, even if we are so hopeless right now?

And he was right to mention that she always had the right answers, as Y/N scoffed slightly with, "No. Of course not, Trent."

But then for the first time in a long time, Y/N took a glance at Trent. His eyes were timid and his posture was inward, closing in when she responded so harshly. But she had to. If she gave him the slightest idea that the two could work out, not only would Trent run with it but she would too. Much kinder, she explained, "No, Trent. Uh, I don't think so. I mean we tried and... just look where we're at now," she motioned to the now bare bedroom, "We messed up so many times to even look at the possibility of something. We're too lost for one another."

The sad reality of it all was that they were long gone for one another. Dating back to before the wedding rehearsals, before Trent had proposed, before Trent had asked Y/N to be his girlfriend, heck before they had even met. The thing is, they were never met to be together in the first place. It was written in the stars, something that couldn't be rewritten at any cost.

The fallout wasn't because of a disagreement over a wedding cake, or a lunch destination. Those were easy fixes, things that couldn't cause so much damage. Instead, Trent and Y/N simply weren't meant to be. No matter how hard they fought it, no matter how hard they tried to prevent the fallout, no matter how hard they tried to avoid all the evident cracks in the relationship—in the end, it would happen even if they had to experience a disaster to get over it.

"But I don't know," Trent lifted his head when Y/N let out a long sigh. She shrugged, clasping her fingers together, "Maybe... maybe we could've in another life."

"Another life?"

"Yeah, like... in another life, in another universe, in our past life." And there it was, a smile. Sure, it was small and shy, but it was there nonetheless. Either way, Trent noticed it like it was any other smile of hers. "Us— or them. All of the other Y/Ns and Trents out there," Y/N spread her arms out, "wherever they are, they can pull through. I'm sure of it. We just so happened to be the unlucky ones so then everything everywhere can run smoothly."

Trent and Y/N looked at one another and suddenly, neither could look away. The looks, so loving yet equally broken. The person that they fell in love with, the one that they planned to spend their life together with—they were right there, they were so close yet they had to let one another go and let their other half drift away. It felt like their love story ended way too soon. One couldn't forget that in all that brokenness, in all that heartbreak, there was something—maybe everything—quite good.

While it all had to happen, it was easy to forget that within all of this, there were two individuals either suffering or celebrating. And in this case, they were suffering. Y/N and Trent couldn't change the situation or the circumstances and they had to live with that, without one another.

The loneliness, the uncertainty– it was scary, even if they came with a bit of peace. Because deep down, even if they had to handle a lifetime of pain and worry, they wouldn't hesitate to endure it together. That way, it would feel like everything was okay. 

[penguintransporter]

IT’S A DATE  (a Virgil Van Dijk imagine)

This is for the lovely anon (whoever you are, you are amazing) who requested: “hello! can i request a story with Virgil van Dijk getting seeked out by an oc who works with the medical staff in melwood, but Virgil’s too busy that he doesnt notice, even when it’s *really* obvious?” You told me to let my imagination run wild, so I did... I hope you like it! PS. I hope you don't mind me using some other characters from my previous story.

Lou nervously tapped her pencil against the chart holder that rested against her elbow. Glancing down at the red pen between her fingers, she winced at the chewing marks of her own teeth before throwing it on the desk, and grabbing a fresh one from the pen-holder. With a sigh, she shifted her weight to her other foot and started tapping nervously again.

"I have no idea why are you being so jittery. It's not like it's your first day," Robbie remarked from where he was sitting on a chair in the corner of the medical room, "but if you could stop with it, that would be bloody wonderful because I am trying to do some math here." Lou faced him quickly, mimicking his words in a mock tone on which he just gave her a look – his eyebrow rising while he tried to hide his grin. "I guess, maturity is not on the list of your qualities."

Lou smirked, taking few steps and peering over his chart, curious at what he was doing.

"Since when did you become an analyst?" Lou asked, pursing her lips in confusion. "Are you sure you're in the right office? Analytics are on the other side of the Melwood…" she trailed off with a teasing grin, ignoring the nervous twists that invaded her stomach once again.

Lou wanted to believe that it was her period, or maybe just a poor choice of a toast and jam for breakfast earlier that morning, but deep down, she knew the real reason even if she didn't dare to admit it. She knew that her stomach flips and jitters were solely because of one-meter and ninety-three centimeter giant of a Dutchman who, along with couple of others, arrived this morning for the first day after his World Cup duties.

Still, a side of her kept denying it, even if she already knew that she was deep in a trouble because of her feelings towards Virgil. Lou couldn't help herself; she liked him a lot.

She had met him on the very first day he visited Melwood for the first medical check-up, and, as much as she hated to admit, it was love at the first sight. Obviously, she knew who he was before – she didn't live under a rock, and she had been present when they settled a deal to buy him, but when he walked through the doors of medical room in all his tall glory, sporting a charming smile – Lou felt like she was being a teenager again. It took only few of his kind words, another smile, and a firm but gentle handshake, and that was it – Lou had gotten her diagnosis.

She was head over heels, and even one-hundred-seventy-four days later, nothing has changed.

The doors of the office suddenly opened, making Lou blink back from her thoughts, and once she looked towards them, another person stuck her head inside – a mess of unkempt hair piled at the back of her head in a ridiculously short ponytail. Emma grinned at both of them in all her freckled glory, and Lou smiled back while Robbie, being emo as usual, just raised his hand lazily, not really bothering to look up from his papers.

"You are very much needed now, Robbie," she spoke hurriedly. "Everyone, except for Sturridge is here, but that's not a headline anymore."

"It's more an out-dated column that no one reads any longer," Lou interjected with a grin.

"He is probably stuck in the traffic," Emma added, matching her smile.

"My guess he's stuck in his wardrobe, matching the hat with his shoes," Robbie mumbled as he got up, referring to, by now, a running joke among everyone at the Melwood on Daniel's insisting on looking immaculate at any given moment.

Lou and Emma shared yet another glance – both of them trying to hold the laughter.

"I will refrain myself from any statements," Emma whispered before raising her voice to a normal level, still looking at Lou. "Is it okay if I send Joe, Virgil, and Gini in?" They did warm-up and stretching already. James is sick again, so I am obliged to do his job. Technically, I am not obliged to do anything, 'cause there are so many people working here, but Klopp seems to like me."

Lou tried to laugh at Emma's joke, but it came out as strained, so she quickly nodded. "Yes, yes," she answered – her voice sounding as if she just woke up. "Just send them in, so we can both be over with it," she gave another try at joke, but she failed again.

"Okay, I am done," Robbie interrupted, zipping his sports jacket. "Shall we…"

Emma nodded as Robbie grabbed the bag and made his way towards the doors. On his way, he stopped next to Lou, patting her lightly on the shoulder as if he knew that she is going to need all the mental support in the world.

Not being able to say anything, Lou just meekly smiled at both of them before they left her alone in the medical room.

**

It's not as if Lou had never performed a medical check-up on handsome, charming, and athletically built men.

She had been sports physiotherapist for several years now, starting as the assistant, and slowly building up her experience to the position she had now at the club she supported her entire life. Lou had seen many of the players come and go, she had seen them half-naked, in distress and vulnerable, sweaty and smelly, crying in pain, and she even knew where most of them had their most ticklish spot, but after some time of overthinking it, she became immune on their good looks.

However, she had never performed a check-up on Virgil.

Somehow, he always ended on Robbie's examination table, and Lou was only there to look or take notes, but earlier that morning, when she arrived and glanced at her schedule, she knew what was awaiting her.

And, it certainly didn't help that he looked the way he did when he walked in the room, trailing behind Gini and Joe, laughing at something that Lou wasn't aware of.

"Your gastrocnemius feels a bit tense," Lou spoke – her eyes dancing between Joe's face, Virgil and Gini, and the notebook in her hands, "but other than that, you're good to go." She looked at Joe again, giving him a small smile. "I am sure you can work on that with Robbie. It's nothing serious, just a lack of exercise in the past few weeks."

Joe sat up, stretching as he did so. "You need to use less complicated words with me, Ms Welsh," he muttered.

"It's Lou," she grinned, correcting him, "and gastrocnemius is the muscle—"

"—at the back of your leg, Gomez," Virgil cut Lou in the middle of her sentence, and she smiled at him, but he wasn't looking at her. He was grinning at Gini who stood next to him, leaning on the wall – the two of them sharing an inside joke.

The corner of Lou's mouth dropped, and she focused on her notebook again as she tried to pretend that she wasn't looking at them in the first place.

"Next time when you decide to appear smart to impress Ms Welsh—I mean, Lou," Joe quickly corrected himself with a childish grin, "you can just tell her that she's got pretty eyes."

Lou almost chocked on her breath and her eyes quickly went wide as she looked at Joe, just in the time to see him wink at her. She felt the blush warm her cheeks, but she quickly cleared her throat, shaking her head.

"Anyway," Lou interrupted the weird silence that suddenly appeared between four of them, "who is next?" she asked as if she didn't already know. She was done with both Gini's and Joe's medical, leaving only one person to be checked-up.

Virgil nodded, getting up from his chair, making his way to the examination table. Lou felt her hands shaking as she washed them before she turned around to face him. He looked down at her – their height difference looking ridiculous for a second.

"How are you?" she asked with a smile. "How does it feel to be the captain of Oranje?"

Virgil nodded passive-aggressively, getting himself comfortable on the table. "Good, I guess. Glad to be back at Melwood."

"I've watched couple of matches. You were excellent," Lou pushed again.

"Thank you."

Lou finally nodded, feeling slightly disappointed, but still the lack of his response didn't make her heartbeat slow down If anything, it just started to beat faster the moment she reached out and touched his left leg. He winced slightly, and Lou wondered if her hands were too cold.

"Is there anything that has been bothering you?" she asked again, touching his ankle, somewhat firmer now. His skin felt warm under her fingers, sending the waves of heat throughout her body, but she needed to keep it professional. There was no way she would manage through the physio if she let her thoughts wander in the wrong direction.

Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but Gini beat him to it, "—a lack of girlfriend in his life."

Net to Gini, Joe burst into laughing fit, and Virgil twisted so that he was facing his teammates, muttering something in Dutch. The two guys stopped laughing, but kept their grins plastered across their faces.

"Are you single, Ms Welsh?" Joe asked, and Lou felt the heat rise to her cheeks yet again. "—I am sorry, I meant Lou. Are you single?" Gini groaned, hitting the tall lad on the shoulder. "I am sorry if the question is too personal."

"Yep," she answered, quickly. "And don't worry, it is not a secret."

"Well, there you go, Virg!" Gini prodded Joe in the ribs, "you can always ask her out on a date. What do you say, doc?"

Lou felt the sweat break through the surface of her skin – her brain turning into mush.

"I mean, yea—" the words almost tumbling down from her mouth, but she was interrupted by Virgil's groan.

"—No," he muttered, and Lou quickly shut her mouth.

She shyly cleared her throat, trying to hide her blush as Virgil turned around, leaning back so that he was resting on his elbows. He looked at her apologetically at her, and she tried to give him a fake smile, but failed. Nodding to herself, she motioned for him to lift his lower body so she can proceed with the check-up.

"Have you pulled a muscle while in Russia or forced yourself?" she asked again, trying to ignore the fire in the stomach and some other parts of her, as she touched a bit further up his leg. Virgil nodded calmly, but narrowed his eyes a little when he heard the two guys behind him snicker. Lou nodded yet again, looking away from his face and down to where her hand was examining his muscle. "I will talk with Robbie and the others about this. We might give you a set of physio so you are in the best shape before flying out for the pre-season. It'll maybe be few sessions with me or Paul, but it's nothing to be worried about. I just feel a bit of tension."

Lou stepped away, moving her hand in 'you're ready to go motion', and he nodded before standing up. Once again, the height difference between two of them seemed to be more ridiculous than it actually was – at least to Lou.

"Thank you, Lou," Virgil finally spoke without her asking him something, and she felt her cheeks grow warmer again. He turned around to leave, followed by his other two teammates as Lou watched them.

Maybe it was the butterflies in her stomach, and his warm smile or maybe it was just the poor choice of her breakfast that finally kicked in into her system, but Lou couldn't stop herself from speaking again. "About that date…" she trailed off, making all three of them stop and look at her. "I wouldn't mind at all. We could get a coffee if you want."

Gini and Joe smirked, and Lou wanted to bite her tongue off as soon as the silence settled over them. Virgil looked at her – his hand going towards his chest and he scratched himself awkwardly.

"I don't know…" he trailed off, and both, Gini and Joe gasped almost immediately.

Lou looked down at her shoes and back up before cracking a smile. She turned around, walking towards the sink and quickly placed her hands under the tap. "Yeah," she kept the fake grin on her face, "I just wanted to see your reaction. It was a joke, anyway."

The guys laughed a little as well, and Lou looked away, setting her lips into a straight line. She didn't look away from what she was doing as the guys left, but she heard a slight commotion outside the doors. Lou let the water run for few more seconds before hitting the tap close, and wiping her hands off with a towel.

She had no words for her own stupidity, and she always had a problem of speaking before thinking it through. She should have kept her mouth shut, because her own intuition proved more than once that it could be wrong.

She had to forget her silly crush on Virgil.

And anyway, it was probably against the work policy.

Lou sighed, sitting down on the chair where Robbie sat previously. Putting her notebook on her knees, she scribbled few more notes before looking in front of her at nothing in particular. Closing her eyes, Lou leaned her head against her knees and over the notebook, groaning silently, and she didn't look up when she heard the doors open.

"If you need a check-up, you have to wait for Robbie or go to Paul's office," she muttered, ignoring the fact that she probably sounded way too unprofessional, but she had no desire to deal with anyone. "I am having break."

"Uh, I just had a check-up."

Lou raised her head, a bit too quickly – the tiny dots appearing in her vision. She quickly got up, straightening her polo shirt and clearing her throat.

"I am sorry about that," she spoke, putting the notebook on the desk. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Virgil looked briefly behind his back, and Lou noticed Gini and Joe standing in the corridor. She smiled at them, but Virgil shook his head a little before closing the doors shut.

"Yes, actually—" he muttered, and Lou curiously looked at him. "About that coffee—"

"—I hope you don't mind my joke," Lou said through a laugh. It was so fake – it hurt her ears.

"No, wait," he interrupted, "I mean, I wouldn't mind grabbing a cup of coffee sometimes or lunch."

Lou was at the loss of words.

"You wouldn't?" she meekly asked after few seconds of complete silence.

"Would you like to grab something to eat—not today, but maybe on Friday evening?"

"S-s-sure," Lou dumbly stuttered, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Virgil smiled brightly at her, nodding before turning around, and opening the doors slightly. "Great, I will get us a reservation," he added, turning his head so that he was facing her. He then quickly exited the medical room, and Lou felt like her knees were about to give up underneath her. She gripped the side of the table, biting her tongue to restrain herself from screaming. Suddenly, the doors opened again, and Lou quickly moved away from the desk once she, yet again, came eye to eye with Virgil. "Oh, I almost forgot…" he trailed off with a grin.

"Huh?"

"It's a date."

[khezhaje]

LFC!

NAME: Khezhaje CLASS:  Rogue AGE: 32 BIRTHDAY: May 8th RACE: Darkspear Troll GENDER: Female SEXUALITY: Bisexual disaster MARITAL STATUS: Single RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HAIR: Teal EYES: Amber HEIGHT: 7’3” BUILD: Lean corded muscle COMMON ACCESSORIES: Lotsa jewelry. At least two daggers. Locking picking kit. Raptor skull mask

PERSONAL

PROFESSION: Repossession of personal belongings.

INCOME SOURCE: Grinning homicide

HOBBIES: paying irreverent homage to her Loa. Sleight of hand tricks. Flirting. Flirting with death. Fishing

LANGUAGES: Zandali, Orcish, Thalassian

RESIDENCE: No permanent one at the moment. Tends to frequent taverns and bars wherever her work takes her

RELIGION: She is Bwonsamdi’s; heart and soul. With a bit of a side thing for Jani. But Bone Daddy will always be her main man

FEARS: A life un-lived.

TRAITS

extroverted / introverted / in between disorganized / organized / in between close-minded / open-minded / in between calm / anxious / in between reckless / cautious / in between patient / impatient / in between outspoken / reserved / in between disagreeable / agreeable / in between empathetic / unemphatic / in between faithful / unfaithful / in between optimistic / pessimistic / in between traditional / modern / in between hard-working / lazy / in between ———–   SMOKING: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR

Long/short term/oneshots!

Romance, adventure, enemies, friends

Pretty much anything!

[furybymoonlight]

Power

Pic credit: LFC

Warning/Genre: romance, fluff, tiny tiny angst, slightly suggestive scene in the end

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x OC/Reader

“You have so much power over me…sometimes it kind of scares me.”

Author’s Note:

As usual, apology in advance for all errors since I am not a native.

Trent rubbed his eyes, walking groggily along the dimly lit corridor of his house. He had been asleep when he suddenly woke up, reflexively reached to the other side of the bed and found his girlfriend missing.

“Babe…are you here?”

He entered the quiet living room. Finding it empty, he continued to seek her from room to room with no avail, when he noticed something through the grand window of his living room.

The lukewarm summer night wind greeted him as he stepped out to the patio. He found his baby girl lounged on the outdoor sofa, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiled as she saw him, putting the cup on the coffee table before sliding to the side to make way for him. Sitting beside her, he drew her to him, making her sit sideways on his lap. He hated having distance between them, no matter how short.

He kissed her softly before smiling at her, one large hand cupping the side of her face. She smiled back at him again, but a hint of melancholy adorned her beautiful face. He frowned, muscled arms tightened around her midriff. Something was not right.

“You should be sleeping….what is going on angel?”

She nuzzled him on the cheek before tracing the worry lines on his face, down to his nose, then to his plump lips. As always, her heart fluttered inside her chest whenever he was in the vicinity.

“I love you.”

She said softly to him and she felt the tension in his body lessened, but not gone.

“and I love you…so what’s wrong?”

It was hard to think with her securely wrapped in his arms. Everything felt so perfect for her, he was so perfect for her, so right, too right, that she feared when the ground finally shifted, she would just fall into a deep abyss and never resurface. She was a planner, she had a great career and she felt like her life was mapped out. She wasn’t used to feeling like this…like she was not in charge of her life.

“You have my heart Trent…and I’ll do anything for you…you know? I just…don’t know what I’d be without you…if you leave me...”

She felt instantly cold at that possibility. She kissed him then, fleetingly, as if just wanted to assure herself that he’s still there with her.

“You have so much power over me.... sometimes it kind of scares me.”

There, she said it. She sighed and closed her eyes. Great, now she sounded like those clingy whiny overly dependent girlfriend character in those tv soap operas, which she hated by the way. The calling of her name in his deep low voice made her open her eyes.

“Princess…I am not gonna leave you...besides, if the table turns, you think I am…what? I’ll be just fine without you?”

“Well…not in the beginning, but eventually…I mean…you’re Trent…you have everything in life, world class football player, the whole world knows who you are, people worship you, dub you generational talent, you even have a mural in this city, honestly.”

The scouser couldn’t believe his ears. He had loved her for what felt like forever, she was a part of him, air-level essential to him, didn’t she realize that? He cupped her face between his palms and looked straight at her.

“Baby…football is a large part of my life…it’s true, and I know I am blessed to live this life...”

He kissed her then, suddenly felt he needed to convey his emotion in more than words. Pressing his forehead against hers, he looked into her eyes and continued.

“You said I’m living my dream and that’s true as well…but having you by my side is part of that dream. Baby girl…football is my present but you, you’re my present and my future. I love you...to the moon and back.”

“You do?”

Her eyes brightened with love and affection as dimple appeared in her soft cheeks. His heart skipped a beat. It didn’t matter how long they had been together, she would always have that effect on him. He pressed her against him, though they were already as close as they could be, and claimed her lips in a fervent kiss.

She was his and he’d always be hers. She said he had so much power over her? Well, she ruled him, completely. His eyes darkened as he considered the possibility of living without her. It was unthinkable, and the length that he’d go to for her was limitless, he’d even give his legs, and more, to keep her safe by his side.

“Of course I do baby…”

He whispered against her lips, which were now swollen due to his ministration. His palm slipped beneath her t-shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back. His lips tugged into a naughty smirk as he felt her shivered beneath his touch, the worry in her eyes gone, replaced by pure passion.

“I can of course, perform a demonstration…to fully convince you.”

He devoured her mouth then, all the while carrying her back to their bedroom and proceeded to do exactly that.

End Note:

Wrote this because I just need to escape the gloomy situation of LFC transfer window yet again.

Hope the boys win today!

Anyway please check out my other Trent fics:

See Me (Now)

Master of Assists

Thank you for reading <3

So….thoughts? :3

[janeleclerc]

𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝

SUMMARY: Y/N gets jealous, and wants to show Trent that he’s hers and hers only.

REQUESTED: yes/no

WARNINGS: s m u t. from the very first sentence.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i’m sorry if this is rushed BUT i hope you like it!

“Please, baby,” Trent whined.

“Well, maybe I would’ve made you come sooner if you didn’t let all these girls drool all over you, my love.” Y/N whispered, reaching up to give him a kiss.

“Won’t do it again, promise.” He mumbled, his hands reaching to caress her waist.

“If you say so... ” She smirked as she got up and slowly pulled her shorts off.

Teasingly slow.

“Babe... ” he trailed off.

“Want to fuck me, love?”

Trent nodded vigorously, his eyes glistening with lust.

With a swift move, Y/N went to straddle Trent. Slowly, she sunk herself on him, both letting out quiet moans and whimpers.

“Feel so good, baby,” Trent groaned. A laugh left her mouth as she slowly started riding him, setting a pace that was comfortable for the pair.

Trent’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and were half closed from pleasure, it being the only thing clouding his mind now.

“No, darling, open your eyes. Look at me while I ride you.” She told him, her hand going to touch his cheek.

Surely enough, Trent opened his eyes and admired her, admired how his cock went in and out of her.

Y/N pulled him in for a messy kiss, her hands getting lost in his hair as his made their way to her lower back.

“So needy... ” she muttered.

“Only for you,” he replied in a low voice.

“Such a good boy, allowing me to ride you like this... ”

Trent swallowed at her words, not being able to control himself anymore.

“Cum for me, Trent. Cum with me, baby,”

The two of them reached their highs together, both their bodies twitching. Y/N laid down on Trent’s chest, breathless.

“Next time, try to stay away from these girls, yeah?” Y/N muttered into his chest. He laughed and kissed her forehead.

“Don’t worry, I only have eyes for you,”

happy new year <3 also i really enjoyed writing this i love sub trent omg i’m definitely going to write more of it

[slutfortrent]

idk if you are still taking requests but could you write something where trent is talking about the reader and refers to them as ‘my missus’ even though they aren’t married xx

me missus- trent alexander arnold

thank you so much for this req! loved writing it as always <3 hope you enjoy!

Hearing the title, ‘champions of Europe’ not only provoked many to become inexpressible, but it also created many to become characteristic in terms of pure excitement and joy. For Trent and Liverpool FC, they showed their happiness through dropping themselves to the ground and singing ‘you’ll never walk alone” forcefully with the crowd of fans.

To you, the emotion and enthusiasm you had for your boyfriend and his teammates was immense. You’d known from a very young age this was all Trent ever dreamt off, getting his hands on the polished silver trophy and blasting to all his friends and family that he were the champions of Europe. The journey hadn’t been easy going for him, the losses and major titles snatched out of his own did affect him. He was always surrounded with the mentality which most should be gifted with. To treat every game like it was a tough one. No doubt, this mentality is powerful and strengthening to a player, however the pressure can soon negatively hit one.

And so, to see your boyfriend tonight. His face gleaming with pride, eyes a shimmer of red from his emotion and the action of kissing a medal far too many times. Made you the happiest person ever. To see him and his team, be awarded with one of the highest ranking titles in the world. You had no words.

With everyone still trying to get their heads around the moment and what had happened previous, spiralled around the green turf, the need for interviewers and professionals stripping a thousand questions, came as an annoyance. Though it was inevitable, these talks were important for the players to respond to the fans and analyse their part in the game. Times like this, adrenaline pumping to a dozen, the thought was off putting.

Trent and Jordan Henderson had been two of the variety of players to be chosen for a chat. The pair stood side by side, attention far from the point. It seemed all Trent had his eyes set on were finding where you was hidden in the mass of the crowd. And for Hendo, all he wanted was to see his missus and children pummelling over to him in triumph for their father.

“Congratulations, Trent.” The interviewer begins, smiling at the scouser stood next to him.

“Thank you,” Trent responds, his vision glued to the swarm of fans, swaying their scarves in the air.

Through the bundle of people, players and their families congratulating the boys on their hard work. Trent believes to the left of Andy Robertson appears to be yourself. The distance amongst you two was so fair apart to recognise anyone. Regardless, he catches a glimmer of red with the undefeated 66 on the back, something which made his heart flutter impulsively each time. You’d made a trust with Trent. No matter what happens, you’ll be by his side supporting him through the highs and lows of his career. Seeing you now, conversing with his fullback friend he believes, makes him the happiest person ever.

“You are a European champion, and you’re not even 21 years old yet,” The interviewer states the incredible fact, holding the microphone in the direction of Trent, to whom has no words.

Fingers fumbling round the nape of his neck, a trait which brought him security during times were he felt fazed. His visibility of sight observing the atmosphere and endeavouring the whole night in. “It’s hard to put into words what’s just happened, and the celebrations that happen tonight will be cherished massively. Over the season we’ve had, we deserve it hugely over many teams and shown what a world class side we can be.”

The interviewer smiles at his response, watching as Trent eyes the atmosphere flooding the stadium as before. “How are you going to spend your celebrations? With the lads? Family?” He asks.

It was correct that Trent did eye you speaking to Andy and his family in the distance. Following from that conversation, you’d spoken to a few of the boys as you attempted to look for your man. Speaking to Ox, praising and applauding his talents, he guided you with a point over to where Trent was placed. Explaining he was speaking with Jordan to one of the numerous interviewers.

Following the guidance of Alex, you’d managed with a squeeze, to see the remarkable Scouser. Striding through the praises of many friends and family. The instant you spot the man, taking into account the dishevelled hair you knew wouldn’t match no other, you slowly unwrap your scarf which was settled around your neck, keeping you warm through the breeziness of the wind.

“Think I’ll just celebrate with me family and the missus. The players too of course. Me family couldn’t make it tonight, so ill facetime them later. Though, me missus came here tonight to support me, but I think she’s more enthused about the fact there will be a celebratory party.” Trent laughs at the thought of you and his words. Still trying his best to detect you on the pitch.

As you got closer to Trent, smiling and giggling to yourself at the selection of his dialogue. Fiddling with the Scarf in your hands, you prepare yourself to surprise the lad. Edging closer each step with as much tranquillity as possible.

“Thank you Trent, well played tonight. Congratulations once again, enjoy yourself.” The interviewer shakes Trent’s had in courtesy, eyeing his next player to interrogate.

You watch as Trent nibbles down at his fingertips, his head shooting side to side in the manner of looking for your presence. Rolling onto his tip toes to get a better glance at bundle of people scattered on the pitch, he considers asking one if they had seen or spotted you around the arena.

Your heart flutters at his mannerism, lip jittering out at his sweet behaviours. As you reach his figure, you grab the scarf that was ready in your hands, before positioning immediately round his head. He stumbles at the contact, a small gasp unleashing from his mouth.

“Guess who...” Whispering into the drum of his ear. Trent with a prompt, swiftly removes the clothed item blocking his vision, and turned backwards into the touch of yourself.

A smile instantly appears on his face, his eyes gleaming with euphoria at the companionship of yourself. He pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping round you with a strong grip. A wide, big smile displays at the current gesture happening between you and the scouser, your fingers threading through the curls tickling his neck.

The action lasts another minute, the pair of you just taking in each other’s existences. The moment was full bliss and cherishment, you couldn’t wait any longer to congratulate the talent, outstanding contributions and abilities of your man.

“Sweet,” With a final squeeze, Trent pulls away from your touch, eyes falling into union with yours. His pupils dilate at your features, soon pressing his lips to your own.

Succeeding a small quantity of kisses, not saying no to the physical contact. You had to congratulate him multiple ways, and this was the start of many. Pulling away, hands still snuggled against his cheeks, heat dominantly still radiating from the sweat of running around for 90 minutes.

“Congratulations lover, my gifted skilful scouser.” Hand reaching to fix a piece of fallen hair. “Played incredibly as always, proudest person in the world right now.” An evident blush rises onto his cheeks, the rosy twinge making you chuckle.

“Thank you baby, still can’t believe it. Doubt I will even wake up tomorrow morning and understand what the fuck is happening-“

Laughter howling at his comment, you notice a handful of the boys surrounding you both and taking videos and pictures of the moment between you two on their phones. Something for sure, would end up on either Robbo’s of Hendo’s Instagram with the captions: he’s taken my man or look at my boy all grown up.

“Baby? Hold on.” You smirk at him, eyes crinkling his choice of words. “Let me rephrase that for you. Shouldn’t it be, ‘me missus’ ?”

This gains a laugh to erupt from the scouser, head fixating towards the green turf in embarrassment. “Listen, with everything going on right now? You’re lucky for words to even spill from me mouth-“

“Shhh,” Pecking his smooth, plump lips. “Keep it coming. Want it to be my new title.”

[slutfortrent]

if you can, perhaps a pillowtalk with trent where it’s a very soft, cute and whole moment between him and the reader. they share how their days went, talk about their feelings and subtle aftercare. hope this is okay 🙃

butterfly kisses- trent alexander arnold

HI <333 so i kinda wrote a few reqs into one????? hope this is okay! thank you so much for your req, always <3

“Hmm.” A grumble escapes your lips in result to the significant amount of kisses being pressed against the apple of your cheek. A subtle smile appears across your face, beaming with pleasure at the affection your other half had been appreciating you with at the early hours of 7am in the morning.

Gradually, you knead your fisted palms up towards your eyes, lethargically rubbing last nights sleep out of your system. Blinking heavily, you are met with the warm, chestnut eyes, as dreamy as ever, leering at yourself. The liquid pools you could stare at all day, just watching as his lashes flutter with adoration, or when his eyes are struggling to stay open and become puffy with sleep. Those features settle your heart with a mountain of flutters.

Trent smiles as his eyes interlock with yours, his hand raising towards your soft mane, fingers effortlessly threading down your locks. A shiver runs down your spine, from either the temperature in the early hours or the loving affection your Scouser kept pleasing you with. Prying the bed covers in your hands, you pull them up and over your shoulders, before attempting to scooch closer to the man beside you.

“Cold?” Trent questions beside you, to which you reply with a swift nod. He edges you to come closer with an open arm, pulling you into the fortress of protection and welcoming warmth. His defined chest never came into competition to a memory foam pillow, each night your cheek settled against the bareness.

No doubt, no question, Trent adored cuddles. The man was basically a human sized teddy bear waiting to be hugged and cherished. For you, of course you admired being close to Trent a great deal, nose scrunching at the delight of his scent whilst gaining the softness of his jumper pressing against your skin. Though at times, having a clingy Scouser practically hanging off your sides more often than should, it did cause you to let out a huff at his enacts.

With your body now resting closely to his heat, legs thrown over his thighs in order to gain as much warmness radiating from his skin. On a day like today, a day after a match where his clingy mannerisms come out. Where in his world, it was accepted as it was allocated as ‘rest’. The man was all over you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“How did you sleep?” you question him, small vibrations against his chest. the soft breath tickling his skin.

“Surprisingly not bad, actually. Considering all the partying last night. Thought me brain wouldn’t switch off. Will probably feel the aftereffects later though, hamstring is already feeling a bit tight.”

You giggle at his answer, though a wave of sadness does soon shadow over. The night before he’d played against Chelsea in the carabao cup, a win he’d like to boast about. It’s not long after a match his body begins to cramp up and ache. Especially in his thigh region did he tend to get pain. You’d guess probably from his free kicks, and not defending skills.

“At least you’ve got a few days off to recover, babe. Was thinking we could take Prince and Kober for a walk later?” You mumble.

Trent hums in agreement to your thought, “Sound’s good, sounds good.”

Your fingers tread against his skin, circle after circle being drawn. “I saw you and Mr Havertz last night. Never have I seen that side of you.”

He’s quick to respond, “Just happens, art of the game I guess.” he sighs.

You nod, a giggle escaping your side. “Thought I was losing my boyfriend for a second then,”

And now his response is even faster, head shaking with frustration at your annoyance. “Shut up.”

His fingers soon find your sides within a few seconds of your language, pressing themselves against your skin to tickle you effortlessly. He gains an abundance of giggles, soon flipping you over so your body laid upon the bed, instead of himself, positions swapped. His legs straddle your own, hands coming into contact with your bare hips exposed from your t-shirt riding up. A repetition of ‘stop’ flows from your lips, trying your best to pry the scouser off your figure.

After a while, he does give up. Although, he’s still very much settled in contact with your side. His head rests touching your stomach, a hand placing on your thigh now this time for him to draw circles. You’re both gaining your breath back from the previous moment, the noise of the chirping birds outside flooding the silence.

Its not long for Trent to become bored in his actions, the boy you often referred to as a child, needing to be doing something 24/7. A pressure is felt against your lower belly region, the touch of a pair of plumpest, smoothest lips in Liverpool attach to your skin. You smile at his new discovery, eyes closing in satisfaction.

He notices your current state, eyes closing in pleasure. And soon, takes this as a sign to carry on. His lips place fluttery kisses to your stomach, head bouncing around the area to cover. A soft moan escapes from yourself, quickly replaced with a heap of laughter.

“What’s funny, I’m trying to have a cute moment with you here?” Trent scoffs, chin nestling on top of your chest.

“It tickles, your beard. Can I even call it that? The scruffy stuff on your-“

Before you finish your sentence, he’s back to tickling your sides as before. Fingers digging in your skin and causing a wave of twitching movements to occur. He’s not being as harsh with this one, letting you off easier than before. Soon, his body slots between your legs, arms wrapped around your body, head upon your shoulder.

Soft breaths are felt up against your skin, more often than not a kiss being placed on whatever part of flesh he can see. Your hand reaches back to grasp his hair between your fingers, gliding through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Can we just cuddle like this please? No more bullying Trent.” The scouser hisses, pushing his nose up to find your scent.

“Fine, stop being a little baby.” You kiss the top of his head, closing your eyes in contentment of the current situation. You both just laze in your positions, no voices or words needed to be expressed, just the togetherness of both your bodies wrapped in one, was enough for you both.

A thought comes back to Trent’s head about his prior behaviour, causing him to giggle to himself. “Hmm?” You subject his laughter.

“Just thinking about me kissing your belly. Imagine if there was a little baby in there, they wouldn’t be happy at my disturbance.”

Your eyes crinkle in confusion at the scousers words, unsure where he has gotten that thought from primarily, but also puzzled at the baby talk. “What?”

“What if they were sleeping, and I just come along and woke them up?” His eyes widen at the thought, hand coming to cover his mouth in shock.

You aren’t positively sure at the point he’s getting at, though this wasn’t uncommon for him. He’s prone to randomly spilling out context. Whether it being a question, ‘Do you think at some point cars can fly?’ to ‘Can toes fall off from the cold?’. Admittedly, you did love his random topics, they always ended up in a fit of giggles not just from your presence. It was something that did cause you to roll your eyes to the back of your head at his daftness, but also made your tummy hurt from humour.

Fingers threading through his hair, “Babies don’t sleep all the time though. Like when the mother eats food, the baby eats it also.” You smile.

“You think the baby is like a claw grabber? Maybe they play a game in the stomach where they move around to eat the food before it disappears into air.”

You aren’t sure whether to laugh or question him on his oddness. But you do know before you can respond, he’s mentioning another weird topic.

“You think whatever the nationality of the baby is, it is their favourite food inside the stomach? Rocco’s favourite scran must have been Haggis or a deep-fried mars bar.”

With a hum, a chuckle following afterwards, you respond to his conspiracy. “For you, that’s actually not a bad thought. Guess you could ask Rocco himself what his favourite meal is. Though, have you heard of many 4-year old’s saying they’d rather tuck into a plate of Haggis over a chocolate bar?” A round of chuckles concluding from you both.

Trent curls into your side as before, snuggling as closely as he can humanly possible to gain your heat. His ability to cuddle was definitely a strong point for him. “Guess we can only ask.”

You nod for a moment, until a rapid desire to empty your bladder takes over, “Anyways, I have to go..”

At the sound of your words, his head rises from your chest, now known as a pillow to him, “What? Don’t leave me..”

A smile erupts from his reaction, watching as his lip juts out to gain your attention. You please him with a kiss to the nose, attempting to shuffle away from the weight of a 5’10 man. “I have to go pee, sweet.”

His arm quickly stops you from becoming free of your position, halting you down with a forceful strength. “But, I’m comfy. You can’t make me move. I’m a broken man, Y/N. My legs are tingling, body can barely move from the amount of distance ran. And I had to see Robbo’s face more times than anyone should, instead of your pretty face.”

You laugh lightly at his pray for you, the aching in your lower region pleading to burst at any given moment. “Seriously T, if you don’t let me move within the next 30 seconds, a patch of wetness can easily form over you.”

He does, with a huff of irritation, allow you freedom. Watching as you swiftly escape into the bathroom not even a few meters away. You can hear a series of grumbles coming from his figure as you wash your hands, preparing yourself to be unleashed back to the lack of independence.

“Hurry up, I still need to tell you about Hendo and Milly yesterday. Oh! And mine and Robbo’s cross bar challenge. My god, is that scot bad at aiming high-“

Your head shakes at his mannerisms, smile beaming at the scouser who you loved, adored at all costs. Even if he was a clingy little shit, you still treasured the company always. And no matter what, would be lost without him. “Go on, lecture me baby.”

[slutfortrent]

Dad fics you said? First off Trent would be way more exhausted and stressed after you just gave birth. And the first time he get to hold the baby he’ll cry 100% sure off that. He’d also go all out on the baby shopping and get the baby enough LFC kits for the rest of its life and also he’d get a lot of those shirts with "daddy is the best" etc on it. And he’d definitely take pictures all the time and he’d also be convinced that his baby is the smartest and would always brag with how much the baby can do and just be proud of everything the baby does and would show it off

sweet lovin’ in the colour of red - trent alexander arnold

hi! thank you for this request, dad!trent is actually everything <33333 hope ive written it okay! so sorry its taken ages :(((( also, thank you @plutosluts for help with the title! love u so much bby<3

Of course, you adored and admired your partner with everything. He was the light at the end of the tunnel for you, the man who saved you when you didn’t even know. Unquestionably, you loved him and appreciated him extensively. But there was one thing that did sometimes drive you insane. Trent no doubt, was a very tough, thoughtful man. Despite his need for Robbo around him more than ever. But nevertheless, he was always thinking about others, worrying about their concerns. And this personality trait seemed to reflect with greater reason, during your pregnancy.

From the first initial conversation of you announcing the arrival of your baby in next 9 months, Trent had been your shadow. The man had been by your side so often, it felt even the companionless, private moments of your day were spent with the number 66 riding on your back. From getting dressed to using the toilet, the scouser was hovering around you like a fly. Aiding every step within your routine. Without doubt, it’s great having a second pair of hands to help you pull your jeans up, or grab your particularly strange cravings at 3am in the morning. But the times when one who wasn’t carrying the world’s jumpiest baby, (No question, the genetics of a footballer were riddled in the infant) didn’t even require help, he was still by your side.

You could sense Trent was nervous for the arrival, undoubtedly so were you. It’s always scary the commencement of a child into ones lives. Worries of the amount of sleep deprivation was going to be lost, or how many smelly nappies could one human produce within the space of an hour. For Trent, he had worries about how his life would differ with the introduction of a baby in his space forever. As well as, would he face difficulties finding a secure relationship with his child with the amount of time he was away from home? You’d reassured him as much as possible, explaining how the baby would still be too young to understand their daddy’s departure. And that he’s going to be the world’s most amazing dad, (well maybe just in Liverpool) so they’d have no trouble creating a warm nurturing relationship in short periods of time.

You also suggested for him to reach out to the other lads in the squad, question them on how they deal with leaving their kids for a few days. And well it seemed Trent had taken onto this discussion, and soon couldn’t stop pestering the lads about dad life. Firstly, he went to Hendo. Seeing as he is basically the caregiver of Trent at Liverpool. He asked him about dad life, finding out information about his adaptment. Soon after, he went to the other half of him. The Scottish lad in which you’d think would be too wild to be a father of 2. And with reassurance and comfort from the two, the scouser seemed to feel a bit better about the situation. Certainly, those obstacles were still pestering inside his stomach, but slightly better than before.

There was one stage in your pregnancy, roughly 6 months in. You’d received a message from Andy. It didn’t worry you, the relationship you both had was very pleasurable and compassionate. Though, what was written on the message, did cause you to laugh at a certain man’s acts. He’d sent you a text about Trent. Telling you to come pick him up before he ended up booting the man up the back side. Trent had been grilling the squad about dad life. Asking questions from how does a baby burp? To what happens if the baby shits while Y/N is away? And from then on, it didn’t need any more reassurance. He was going to be, the most lovable yet brainless father.

Excruciating pains began on a Sunday morning, approximately 30 minutes prior to Trent’s departure to Anfield. Another day for the man to provide an assist for the reds. However, justifiably this was a day off for him. With a thousand beads of sweat dripping from all angles, an extreme discomfort deepening from your back, down to your thighs. A flourish of countless breathless moans leaving your body every few minutes. Today, was in fact, the day baby Alexander-Arnold was making its appearance into the world.

You’d both spoken together about a birth plan, soon figuring was best option was for Trent to be with you no matter what. And it seemed, if the scouser did not emerge within the next 15 minutes, this baby would be delivered without the man. Inhaling sharply as a wave of contraction hits you one after another, you scream in pain. Screeching profanities at the need of your husband.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice of the Scouser blasts into the room, blocking all background voices within echo. Trent without a second to spare, shrugs his coat off in a fast motion, throwing it bedside the rather inadequate chair next to your bed. He trudges to your side, hand gently swiping over clammy forehead to press light, in an instant sticky, kisses to your forehead. “I’m here, I’m here,” He whispered.

All was managed was a nod, the pain letting the ability to communicate somewhat unachievable. He rubbed his hands along your shoulders, letting a soft but hoarse grunt escape your lips. Once the contraction had passed, you took a moment to bring yourself to reality what was about to happen.

“She’s coming, today.” You start, reaching over for Trent’s hand to clasp. He smiles at your words, making himself more comfortable within the environment.

“Told you I wouldn’t miss it,” Now your smiling at his words. Peering over at him ruffling through the hospital bag, looking at what you believe was a notepad and pen, detailed inside with all the parts to a healthy labour.

You shook your head at his organisation, fixating on his eyebrows furrow at each word, lip gnawing between his teeth. “Did you win?” You ask, arm extending for the small cup of water placed next to your side.

Breaking his stance, his visions pairs back to you. “3-0. Jots scored an absolute worldie.”

“Ahh, Liverpool’s finest Portuguese.”

“Sure is. Oh sweet, you would of cried! Robbo got face to face with Harry Kane on the pitch. That Scot has no shame,”

Whilst Trent’s still blearing on about Robbo’s fine encounter on the ground of Anfield, your face is scrunched with the not once familiar pain upon your lower region. Shallow breaths soon passing your lips. Wrapping an arm around your stomach, in the chance of resulting the pain, your muscles tighten and sharp pains strike against your back.

A low moan erupts his explanation, “T, listen. As much as I want to hear about Robbo right now. This baby is literally about to push it’s self out of my vagina.”

 The delivery of Athena Alexander Arnold, felt like a fever dream. The state of euphoria blasting a sense of electricity through your chest. You couldn’t describe in words how the last hour felt, or even the current state of mind. Just you, Trent and a tiny bundle of joy, wrapped up in a soft, cotton pink blanket. Were all you ever needed.

“She’s so beautiful,” Trent whispers, scared to raise his voice in case he startled her. He held her with the shakiest of hands, you reaching yours to settle on top of his attempting to provide comfort. He’d tucked himself next to you in the bed, letting you both snuggle close to his warmth.

“I’m so proud of you,” The scouser leaned in to press a tender, passionate kiss to your lips, brushing the damp baby hairs back with his fingers. The tickling sensation earned a laugh from yourself, before taking the opportunity to snuggle back closer into the bare skin of the man next to you.

“I love you,”

Trent smiles, “I love you too.”

Now this response like a flash causes you to perch yourself up. With struggle through the pain, you lock eyes with Trent, a gasp leaving your mouth during the motion.

“I love you too? Eh?” Your eyebrows furrow, eyes scrunching in question.

Trent looks at you with a daze, the state of wonder and bafflement in one’s mind. He switches his vision every few seconds from yourself to Athena. Struggling to take his eyes off the precious bundle. “What?” He questions.

“You’re meant to say, I love you more?”

“We are really having this disagreement an hour after the birth of our daughter?”

You smile weakly at his words, a small giggle compelling you to press your head against his shoulder, nuzzling yourself back against his skin.

“I guess so.”

A few hours passing of the delivery of Athena, you both found yourself beginning to fall back into reality. The past few hours were a blur for you both. Trent blaming the gas and air whilst you believe it was the Scousers clumsiness and lack of intelligence within the department driving you senseless. Managing to catch your breath back and tidying your hair up never felt better, and the ever so small baby girl wrapped in your arms, could cause a bubble of adorableness to shatter.

Once you both had settled, you took advantage of the sleeping child bedside your bed. Resting in the comfort of the hospital bassinet. Joining in her activities, you find yourself dozing in and out of sleep with Trent too actually, though he kept stating he wouldn’t sleep a wink in hospital. Claiming the thought made him anxious and he needed to keep an eye on you both at all times.

Hushed whispers arouse you from your doze, your stiffened neck making you grunt in discomfort. To your left, sat in the rather unpleasant chair, brought to view Trent and Athena. You could make out the scouser talking in his baby voice, a smile plastering on your face. You’d wished someone could film the interaction, to implant the memory forever in your brain. Seeing the two you adore connecting for the first time.

“Hey,” You turn to face Trent, the voice of another startling him. Athena was nestled closely to his side, wrapped in the arms of a world class footballer.

“Hi.” Trent replies, smiling at your presence. His gaze over at you places you in a state of confusion, and worriedness. Tear marks were visible from the gleaming lights shining down on his skin, red splotchy rings round his eyes, burning with touch.

“You okay, T?” To which he nods, eyes fixating down at the little girl in his arms. Within a few seconds, the throbbing pain taking over your body and holding you back from running over to him, You are planted by his side, pressing a delicate kiss to his head.

“What’s up?” And now it’s your turn to wrap your arms around him, your turn to provide the source of comfort he was lacking.

His eyesight soon returned into the blurry state, clouded with the recognition of tears beginning to fall. “Come ere,” You tuck his head into your side, rubbing your hand up and down his back softly.

Soon your already mucky t-shirt, provided with sick and all kinds of baby produces, is covered with a spot of wetness. Salty tears followed with whimpers are catching in his throat, slipping down his face in a state of overwhelm, you thought. “What’s wrong?”

A whimper from the child cuddled between you, causes the separation of your hold. Watching as her eyes flutter gently with the touch of Trent’s finger, lightly stroking her cheek. “I’m just go grateful, feel like I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Your heart thumps profusely at his words, an electrifying shock causing a rise in your heartbeat. For 9 months you had waited for this moment, to see Trent finally become a father. Despite his worries, and the very small interactions of pregnancy talk before you became expectant. You had a feeling deep down he’d always wanted to be a father. You’d seen the verbalisation and associations he’d had with Robbo’s children, watching as he’d tickled their sides until they were screaming for him to stop. Or the times when he spend chasing Hendo’s daughters around the pitch of Anfield pretending to be a scary monster in their eyes. All those interactions made your stomach flutter heavenly, and though he was nervous, Trent will always make the most amazing father to you.

“Are you trying to make me cry too?” The pair of you laugh, a few sniffles coming from Trent’s side.

“She’s so pretty. I don’t want to ever leave her.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss the softness of her nose, bright twinkly eyes blinking up at his touch. The memorisation the man had on the child was impeccable, from the second she was placed in his touch, you hadn’t seen his vision move for more than a second from her.

You delicately swipe your finger across her eyes, collecting the speck of a tear on your thumb. “She’s got your eyes.”

Trent smiled tearfully, letting her wrap her ever so small finger around his much larger one. “She’s got your facial features though,”

“Better not have your accent.” You nudge him, watching as he erupts a gasp of shock at your words.

“Shockin’ that.”

 Subsequent to the scouser’s little moment of tears and sniffles, you’re both finding tranquillity in the hospital room. Resting alongside one another, tucked in the little hospital bed. Breaking the silence Trent’s phone buzzes, causing you both to turn in the direction of the beep.

“Who’s that?” You question him, as he reaches to grab the phone enclosed in his pocket. Rustling his hand inside, he grabs his phone before gasping in surprise, eyes widening in a matter of realisation.

The scousers mouth opens to speak, despite the hesitation over riding him. “Uh, don’t kill me sweet, but-“

Blinking at him in bafflement, watching as he gnaws on his lip. “What is it?”

“Robbo, Hendo, Ox and Perrie are on their way...”

Your body hurls up in startlement, jaw dropping at his words. “Are you being serious right now Trent? I’ve literally just pushed your child out of my vagina a few hours ago. My t-shirt is covered with all kinds of baby fluids, I look like I have been dragged through a bush. And I’m supposed to be known as a wag?” Your response came out with a tone of fire. Deep down, you know he didn’t invite them to cause upset or irritate you. He was just overly excited and wanted his best friends to see their new little friend.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to...” Rattles down the corridor, the accent of a Scotsman’s blasting through your ear drums, resulting in you both squeezing your eyes closed in amazement. A subtle knock on the door, followed with a few hushed whispers alerts you both there was a few visitors eager to come inside. Trent slides of the bed, proceeding to open the door.

“Congrats Trentski!” Robbo pulls Trent into a warm, far from gentle, hug. Expression soon followed by Jordan Henderson, Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain and his partner, Perrie. They all huddle into the room, glistening eyes pondering over to the sleeping child settled in your arms. Congratulating you also, a kiss partnered with a side cuddle.

“Woah, she’s so precious.” Hendo whispers, finger lightly dusting over her small wispy fluffle of hair.

“Wee pretty girl.” Robbo smiles, voice far from the same as Jordans. Earning multiple hushes and a dig from Jordan to “shut up, speak in your baby voice.”

“She’s absolutely beautiful, Y/N. Definitely got her mummy’s looks.” Perrie coos at the child, watching as she yawn’s in her dazed sleep. Most likely woken from the blaring Scottish accent flooding the room.

“Thank you, she’s a little angel.” You press a kiss to her forehead. Trent quick to argue at Perrie’s statement, claiming she also was given the pleasure of his features. “Do you want to hold her?” Beckoning your head in Perrie’s direction.

As you snuggle Athena into the warmth of Perrie’s Arms. Gazing at the infant hiccupping in response to leaving the comfort of her mothers. You notice a reasonably large bag resting beside Andy’s foot.

Pointing over in the direction of the bag, you question. “What’s in the bag Robbo?”

He picks up the red bag in a swift motion, placing the relatively heavy bag you estimated from the grunt that passed his lips. “Oh. This is full of some presents we have for Athena.”

“Aww, cheers lads. Let���s see, let’s see.”

“Alright, firstly we have...” Andy rustles in the bag to collect the first item, trying his best be as quiet as possible before he gets another blocking from Hendo.

“Is that?”

“Her first Robertson shirt. Don’t worry, if she’s not a fan of red, I’ve also brought the shirt in the away kit and third kit.”

The room soon floods with chuckles from all, giggling at the state of the Scottish man holding a bag full of Liverpool shirts. Taking a peep further into the bag, you chuckle even harder at the fact he’d also brought the Scottish national team kit also.

“Robbo lad,” Trent shakes his head in disgust, “There’s no way my daughter is even contemplating wearing any of those shirts.” The thick scouse accent roars in horror at the thought of his daughter wearing anything but his name on her back.

“What about me Trent? Gonna be favourite uncle here.” Alex challenges. Outrage and irritancy soon absorbing the mind of the scouser. “She won’t be wearing anyone else’s shirts, other than mine.” Trent states.

“Enough arguing, testosterone is getting far too much now.” Your head beginning to bang at the stupid bicker between Trent and his other half. “Robbo, correct me if I’m wrong. Did I hear you sing happy birthday down the corridor?”

Andy’s cheeks in an instant invoke a rosy blush upon them. A little giggle with his eyes now drawn to the ground. “Well… It is her birthday.”

“Is it like a Scottish thing?”

His head peers back up to look at everyone, “Eh?”

Jordan shakes his head, “Think it’s just an Andy thing.”

Nothing had really suck in that you had a new-born attached to your hip, more often than Trent. The man had been amazing, you couldn’t fault him one bit. The only time that did cause a slight frustration, was when he chose to do things for you. Explaining you needed to rest and recover. Though this made your heart swell and pound profusely, it also caused a strain of irritancy. The man really did have a heart of gold. The day you returned from hospital, you don’t think you moved for longer than five minutes from your bed. Trent was constant, bringing you food, pushing a glass of water into your hands every 20 minutes, checking you felt okay without exception. He was spoiling you to the dozen, you and his little girl meant every single thing ever to him.

Securing the nappy onto the infant’s waist, Trent presses a few smooches to Athena’s stomach, laughing at the vibrations tickling her skin. The man had taken the job of bath-time, in spite of the fact you had argued you were well enough to assist in the job. He claimed you rested in bed.

Hearing a flourish of giggles from the little scouser’s nursery, you decide to check what the commotion was. Stumbling along the floor, a wince of pain every so often from your lower region making the journey much longer than normal. Finally arriving, you perch inside the door way, dwelling on the sight of Trent kissing Athena’s soft curls. A feature you thanked Trent for every day.

“Daddy’s a very funny man.” Trent’s head briskly turns to your presence, a hand raised on his chest to signal the shock he’d gotten.

“You’re meant to be resting.” Trent sighs. Not that he didn’t want you there, the worried feeling he gets from you not being fully recovered and hurting yourself soon flooding back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I promise, T.” You shake your head, edging closer to him and pressing a kiss to his side. He smiles at your touch, wrapping an arm around your waist with the other firmly across your daughter’s stomach.

“Can you grab me another Babygro sweet? Little bug has dribbled milk down this one.”

“Sure,” Hobbling over to the wardrobe containing far too many clothes for a diddy child. “Just a baby- what the?”

“Hmm?” Trent hums, sliding a pair of mittens onto each of Athena’s hands, in the hope she’d keep them on and not risk accidently scratching her skin.

“How many Liverpool shirts are in here?” Flicking through the shirts, taking in multiple with daddy on, a few with Athena, one or two with Alexander Arnold, and the rest, you’d be flicking through all day to memorise.

Trent laughs, “Was thinking I’d get her a few with daddy on, a couple with her name on, extras in the case they get dirty. Brought some for when she’s growin’, away ones and third kit ones. Oh, and got her one with daddy is the best,”

“You are mad, Trent Alexander Arnold. Maddest man in Liverpool.”

[blueaetherr]

oscitancy

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x gn!reader [they/them]

warnings: [implied] & subtle lack of clothing

summary: the one where the two get to relax for a minute

When the day went to rest, when they returned to each other from school or a football game or whenever there was simply nothing to do—Trent and Y/N liked to treat themselves with a late relax session. A way to finish off the week or day in peace, rather primal and benign. A moment or two away from social media and everything else artificial and adjusted about life. It gave them a moment of Trent and Y/N. Something quite rare and cherished during a time when sometimes the two just couldn't receive enough of one another.

Wandering into the shared bathroom, the two usually opted for a warm bath together first before anything else. Excluded and private and of bare bodies, it could carry or lack vulgar behaviour depending on the mood.

Maybe carrying that aspect when he would nip at their skin or squeeze one part and then another, forgetting the intent of taking a bath. But then a warm bath could lack. When they would help one another undress and fall into the bath, or hold hands for that extra feeling of being close even though Trent and Y/N were already body to body, soaked and evenly bare. Or even when Trent leaned forward on their shoulder and Y/N fell back on his chest. And they would talk, and laugh, and wait out the comfort of a warm bath.

Trent frowned, inspecting the product they held in their hand. "I feel like some of this is a bit unnecessary." Time spent together tending to one another's skincare was delicate and newly common. It was something Trent very much enjoyed, even with his lack of knowledge around it—rather clueless. How can you not enjoy being cared for by another? Not that he would admit it out loud. "What even is that?"

"You don't need to know." They applied the mask to his cheeks first, laughing to themself when Trent closed his eyes shut at the cold feeling. So dramatic, they thought. He could never get over the cold shocks despite feeling them more than enough to get used to them.

It started off as something reserved for Y/N time. Then Trent came into the picture, and prioritising skincare became a Trent and Y/N pass time. Knowing little to nothing about anything, they would help him tend to his skin. Not that there was much to correct of Trent. From one facial feature to another—brown (beloved) eyes, lips, hair—he was perfect, quite possibly by far too much. A pretty boy, in simple, that's what he is.

Y/N stopped for a moment and focused on Trent, lips curling up for him. An outward grin. "Hi there."

And the thoughts were mutual. He would find himself staring at them as they worked on his face, soon falling into a daze. Suddenly, that cold feeling that he hated—the one he couldn't seem to get over—would die down. Inspecting everything that they weren't, inspecting them for everything that they were. And he would leave himself vulnerable when they caught onto his staring, looking away all too shy and inward to admit to his acts.

Or Trent would, much like now, respond with confidence and pucker his lips in hopes for a kiss. Wrapping his hands around them in hopes of bringing them closer. And, of course, never was this confidence turned away by Y/N, pressing a kiss to his lips, one small and full. A stunning person, even with minimum effort, that's what they are.

The two pulled away from one another, causing Trent to sigh. "Hey," he said, leaning his cheek on their palm as he looked up at them from his seated place. Eyes caving in, unfocused and caught in a daze for the moment, Trent made it hard to differentiate between exhaustion and admiration towards another.

There was fun with what the two chose to do. Some singing and dancing (or whatever Trent was doing), where they would sing and he would voice the adlibs. It was atmosphere goofy and dramatic and quiet all at the same time. The way Y/N and Trent woke up with the sun was the same way they wanted to lay to rest—together and in rather happy spirits. Because at night, when day activities were completed or left for the following day, everything would eventually fall short from energy to attention span towards one another.

The day wore the two out but the night together let them settle into fatigue with ease. Where conversations kept going until they no longer could, voices becoming drowsy and low and narrow until they faded out into yawns and hollowed breaths. Where kisses were left unfinished and forgotten once they fell back into bed with one another, falling into a low tempo.

[slutfortrent]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMLhs13dL/

Hey love, can you maybe write something based on this tiktok with Trent? I thought it’s a cute and funny idea. It’s totally fine if you don’t find the time or don’t want to write it<3

the wooden box of humiliation - trent alexander arnold

hi! thank you so much sweet for this req! the tiktok is amazing- i’m sorry this is so poorly written :( MAKE SURE TO WATCH THE TIKTOK BEFORE READING. hope you like it! 

For yours and Trent’s valentines day, you were determined to have tranquil, uneventful evening once your children were bathed and fast asleep. Trent had cooked you an exquisite spread, some of your favourite dishes prepared by a man who you wouldn’t necessarily choose for someone to cook for you daily, though the food turned out relatively edible, partly.

After your dishes were eaten with two belly’s stuffed and a cosy, loose pair of Trent’s sweatpants on. You selected a movie to go on for both your viewing. In spite of the fact that the pair of you were planning to have a composed, easy-going valentines, due to the fact all the babysitters around Liverpool seemed to be occupied. You were moderately pleased with your ongoing evening with the scouser. Although you shared evenings together the majority of the week, it still felt pleasurable to be in the comfort of your home, the space you share with your 3 lovers, on the special day of love in the year.

Spiderman had just began rolling on your Television, (Trent’s choice, the champion of the game of rock, paper, scissors) the two of you were fixated on the sofa, your head nuzzled in the warmth of the scouser’s chest. Lightly pressing kisses to the smooth fleshy placement sensitive to his jawline, his cheeks rising in colour, heat in addition, a giggle erupting from his lips.

“It tickles,” The scouser states, tilting his head away from your direction. You lean closer to him, reciting your actions, though this time with kisses over his face.

“Stop, stop! Stop!” Trent shakes his head with laughter, trying to get away from your bother-some-ness. After a small number of minutes, you both hear a forceful thump causing you to halt your current activity. Wide-eyed gawking at each other.

“Did you hear that?” You shake your head, tucking your hand into Trent’s to hold. The scouser stays silent for a moment, trying to listen out for any more clatters. A few seconds past, before he goes upstairs to check on your children, clarifying they are snoozing adequately.

Within a handful of what felt like short minutes, Trent is walking back. Though this time, with two rather alert bunnies on either side of his hips. Approaching your way, with an avid smirk on his face, lacking confusion on your eye. A sorry leaves his mouth in a whisper, apologising for the disruption of your ‘date night’

“What are we doing awake, eh?” You smooth your youngest hair out of her eyes, tucking the small strands behind her ears. “Apparently they couldn’t sleep, mama.”

“Sounds, very inconveniencing...” You eye Trent’s figure, his body perched along the corner piece of your sofa. Avery, your first baby, resting on his knee.

As time subtly passes, it doesn’t seem as though your children will be sleeping any time soon. Your son, Avery soon points over to a box resting on the coffee table.

“What’s this daddy?” He bounds of Trent’s knee, reaching for the box. With a few grunts and an overly extended arm, he pulls the small wooden box with no sense of elegance off the table and into his hands. Heading back in Trent’s direction.

“Well,” Trent starts, gawking his vision over to you. Pulling a face of horror, your mouth widening with an ‘oh fuck’ expression. You wrap your arms lovingly round your daughter, tucking your head into her soft locks. This was for Trent to deal with.

“It’s a present i got mummy for Valentine’s Day.” He runs his hands through Avery’s dark curls, observing his child attempting to open the wooden gift. Once he had broken the seal, his eyes beamed with bliss. Inside the container, enclosed a multiplicity selection of love heart shaped sexual enjoyments for you and Trent to perform. Unquestionably, this was Trent’s present to you, one he claimed was founded by the Liverpool Team and given to you both, though you weren’t completely certain this was the truth of the matter.

Avery is energetic to dish his hand into the container and pull one of the heart shaped actions out, throwing it in Trent’s direction. “What does this mean dada?” he questions, eyes interlocking with Trent’s.

And before Trent can answer, he’s already bursting with laughter at the statement. His hand raising to cover his mouth to contain his giggles. Your son begins pestering him through tapping his leg harshly, jumping up and down in annoyance.

“Uhm, well this one says...” He examines the words plastered in front of his face, waving them in your direction. You smile at this expression, knowing there was no way he could get out of this. ‘Watch porn together’ displayed in front of him, earning another chuckle to erupt.

“Me and mummy need to watch TV together. Just like how that movie is on right now!” Trent points over to the television hung upon the wall, settling is vision back on your son to whom was already dishing out his next love heart to pass over to Trent.

The next one given to Trent reveals, ‘Naked Massage.’ Swiftly inducing him to shake his head in disgrace. After a moment to gather himself, he’s coming up with another answer to tell your children.

“Now, this one says...” he sucks in a breath, exhaling deeply. “I have to give Mumma a massage. A nice, oily massage.”

“Can I join in?” Avery pipes up, smiling whilst fluttering his lashes at Trent. “Oh, well I mean...”

You continue to laugh at the interaction of your two boys, staying in your current position so it resulted in you not having to deal with the unpleasant moment. Despite the fact that, your pretty sure a certain scouser will make you deal with the repercussions. 

“Eh, daddy’s not too sure on that one.”

“Here daddy! What about this one?” Avery holds another description of embarrassment in Trent’s hold, edging for him to answer. “Well this one, basically says..” He shakes his head at the words, whispering over to you, ‘why would someone ever buy this.’ before answering your son’s inquiry.

The words labelled on the piece of wood state, ‘sex toys’ making Trent squeeze his eyes in a discomforting disbelief.

“We have to go to the shop and buy some toys!” Your son, quick to react as always, is listing as many toys as he can memorize that he has glanced at during the time he was watching Television. 

“Great buddy, I cant promise you we will be going into the same shop. But you never know!” 

[slutfortrent]

welcome to liverpool - trent alexander arnold !

hiiii <33333 TRENT DEBUT! hope you enjoy this, as much as my love for this man👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 lots of love, demo <3

From a little lad, Trent was always amazed by the city he lived in. Whether it was the football, the people or the fact it was the home town to the Beatles, he was always in a state of admiration of the place. Declaring he would never leave. Trent had been desperate to show you round his native land, for months he had been persuading and convincing you, as often as possible. Being from London, you sometimes feel a sense of loss being in the North. To your surprise, you didn't expect there to be such a divide from the north and south. The language barrier seemed to confuse you the most, despite Trent using the scouse Dialect daily. Many times, you found yourself questioning your other half on what this or that meant, invoking much frustration for yourself. So, you decided to give into your boyfriends wishes, and spend the day exploring the city of Liverpool, in the hope you would learn all one needs.

“What's on the list for today, Trentski?” You glance over to Trent who was buckling his seatbelt. After being granted with the opportunity for him to help you learn his routes, the man hadn’t stop researching and finding all the things a newcomer, would need to be aware of in Liverpool. Momentarily, it made you think to oneself, how lucky and special you are to be with Trent. Everyday you find yourself falling more and more in love with the scouser who never gives a shit about his hair, fancies Robbo more than you and slips the word “shocking” more than you can count. Though, you couldn’t be more thankful, and appreciative of the love that brought you together.

Trent begins the journey to the first location, he's mapped out the day for you both, deciding to adventure out and show his two favourite places to begin. Of course, there's much more to offer in Liverpool, though this is just the baseline of this experience.

“So, was thinking, I could show you round this park, I used to play at when I was younger? Then, I've got a little surprise.” He glances over to you, a smile peering onto his face from his enthusiasm. 

“Sounds good to me,” Focusing your sight on the road ahead, attempting to memorize the routes Trent drove down. “Though, this trip better help me with my knowledge of Liverpool, and your stupid little accent-” 

“Of course, Sound! boss.” He smirks, winding you up. You roll your eyes at his remarks, letting out a huff. “English? Please.”

Once arrival at your first destination, Trent leads you out the car. The sight in front of you claims, a large sized playing field, filled with numerous Scousers spending their day out in the open. To your left, a small deficient park swarmed with rusty looking swings, and a rather abandoned slide. To the right of you, a few football goals stand, accompanied by a group of youthful lads. 

“So, this is Queens Drive park.” Trent declares, taking a small stride along the park. “Used to come here with me brothers and mates, play footie.” He points over to the goals, defining where he practised ones skills. 

You both spend a small amount of time taking in the scenery, many emotions and nostalgic memories flooding back to Trent. He stops you both in front of some trees, pointing over into the distance. “If you look over here babe, you can see a small little brown house. Can you see?” As though Trent was attempting to show you his childhood home, you couldn't help but find yourself staring at him, more willingly than his point. His face seemed to shown a glow from being surrounded with what he called his home. His lips curled up in a vast fashion, genuine emotion plastered on his face. 

The soft gaze you had on your boyfriend, soon appeared back in the direction of his finger, circling in the direction of his house. “Mhm, little brown house,” you declare.

“That was me childhood house, loved it when I was younger, could come here everyday,” He exclaims, tugging his hand in yours. 

“Bet your mum loved that,” You smirk, eyes interlocking. “Didn’t have to put up with you all day.” Both of you laughing at your response.

“Me mum used to stand on a step, and whistle us when she wanted us home or it was dinner,” You smile at his words, often wondering if that phase could be implemented in the future, with your own children. As you both leisurely roam the park, Trent conveys some of the remembrances he has from this spot, expressing how him and his brothers used to play ‘rock, paper, scissors’ over who would have to collect the stray football one of them had kicked over the neighbours fence. Although as often as not, the responsibility fell onto Trent, given he was the youngest, and tended to mistake some of the most skilled legendary footballers as his self, and tried to recreate some of the hardest tricks of the trade. 

“So, is this where the famous free kick came from?” You nudge the scouser in the direction of the football pitches, a nod shaking from the man beside you.

“Yeah!” He proclaims, “Spent many hard days and hours working on it, sweet.”

A playful hum passing your lips, “Could do with working on your composure.” you gasp. A laugh passing your lips.

“Y/N!”

Trent drove you both to his second destination of the afternoon, a secret he named to you. When he pulled up, you both jumped out the car, with Trent tugging you along the path. 

In any place you and Trent went, his hand would always be clasped in yours. From the day you both met, his slightly larger palm embraced your smaller one, as a courtesy of protectiveness. From then, the habit struck by you both, and just fell into place. No words had to be exchanged.

“You okay?” Trent questions, placing a soft kiss to your temple. When he pulled away, a gathering of wind swept past you both, causing Trent to worry. “Cold?” 

“I’m fine, all good.” You huff, the coldness aching on your skin, small goose bumps beginning to show. 

“Want me Jacket?” And before you can answer, he’s already sliding it over your shoulders, bending down like a parent doing up their child’s coat fashion to up-do the zip. “Need to get use to this sweet, The north is much colder than the south.” 

“Sound,” He chuckles at your response, seeing you had picked up on a small part of the Scouse Dialect. There was much more Trent needed to teach you.

“Right, the Surprise is just round the corner. Close your eyes for me?” Trent pleads, pulling his hand over your eyes, to ensure they were covered. Once you arrived, he gave you a small countdown of 3 seconds, before removing his hand and beckoning you to open your eyes. 

The view in front of you, simply made your jaw drop. From taking in the scenery, your bottom lip juts out in a state of awe manner. The man beside you, forever makes you the proudest person ever. You do hope in future years, he will take on the role of leading out the Liverpool team, in place of Hendo. And you hope you two, will have a beautiful set of children to follow in the steps of their Father. Nothing gives you the most fluttery belly from being with him, but seeing him having all his hard work paid off through clear victories and achievements, brung such joy.

“Wow,” Your jaw drops. Through your vision, displayed the Mural of Trent painted outside of Anfield. The words, “I’m just a normal lad from Liverpool, whose dream has just come true,” erupting a small smile to beam across your face.

“I’m so proud of you,” You start, turning your direction to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Your the first girl I've had here, other than me mum.” 

You coo softy at his words, a slight heated blush rising onto your cheeks. “I’m very honoured, Trent.”

“Been waiting to show you this. Best attraction in Liverpool you can get, eh?” Your fixation on the detailing of the painting soon replaced back onto Trent’s face, an expression of happiness on both.

“Questionable, I mean, if your looking at the wall opposite yours, the answer is very clear.” You nod your head over into the direction of Jordan Henderson’s Mural, the painting of the player holding a trophy in the air. 

“Come on, you can’t say Hendo’s is better than mine?” Trent shakes his head in disbelief, an audacious smirk appearing on your face. Trent with an instant, picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. He tickles your sides, earning a heap of audible giggles to echo throughout the street. “You better take that back, Y/N.” 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, babe,” You justify your words, as he places you back down onto the pavement. Tenderly, your eyes both cast onto one another's. Pupils dilating in a signal of, ‘this is true love.” moment. Trent mindlessly tucks a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, a quick kiss to your nose, resulting in you turning up your nose in a lack of heat. 

Your thumb brushes over his, immensely soft cheek, rubbing back and forth. “You reckon we could get our own Alexander Arnold on a wall?” 

“I think we can make it happen,”

[slutfortrent]

shower slip ups - trent alexander arnold

second fic for my bby, trentski! thank you so much, @cosmic-parker for helping me with this! love you endlessly <333 check out her amazing fics!

The attitude around taking a shower with another, always seemed so over-hyped in your opinion. The sexual desire and hunger to be intimate whilst performing their physical hygienic need, never seemed to spark an interest in you. When speaking to your girl friends about this topic, they explained how amusing and entertaining taking a shower with one other can be. Despite you and Trent already having a so called, “Active” sexual relationship, the day had never arrived where you allowed Trent to join you in within your daily activities. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, and embarrassed to step that hurdle. Though, after a few reassuring conversations, the idea didn’t seem as bad as you thought it was. With Trent’s craving for the love of his life in such a small proximity, you decided to give into his eagerness. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” You wrap your arms over your body, in a way of protectiveness. 

“Gosh, you are about to get naked. I get to see your very pretty boobies,” Trent’s eyes settle down at your chest region, his pupils dilating significantly. 

“Firstly, what's the need to say boobies? we aren’t in primary school, Trent. Secondly, this isn’t new to you. Seen me naked more times than you should,” You roll your eyes, a laugh escaping Trent’s lips as he heads towards the shower. 

Holding his hand out for you to grab, you place your palm into his, before stepping into the overly small, claustrophobic cubicle. Trent, being the most ambitious for this experience, places himself under the water first, the hot steamy heat radiating off his body.

Soon afterwards, you find yourself also sharing the flowing water with Trent, your small goose bumps, equally from the coldness outside and your nervous persona, disappearing due to the warm temperature.

A few moments of standing underneath the shower head to regulate their body heat, Trent dips down to the shower tray, collecting a bottle of coconut shampoo, and his 5-in-1 shower gel.

“There is no way, that..” You point your finger to the 5-in-1 bottle, “Is going anywhere near me,” shaking your head.

“Listen, this is a lifesaver in the morning babe,” Trent scoffs, squeezing a hefty amount into the palm of his hand. “Saves me so much time in the morning, means I get longer in bed with you,” He smirks.

“At least I wash myself properly.” You scoff, vision observing his body.

It's just a body, she wanted to remind herself. A body she has witnessed on more occasions than one could count, conditions both sexual and secular. What was there to be amazed by? There was nothing new to it, or to Trent. To be taken aback every time he went to undress, was it necessary?

But it was Trent's body. A physique of the Fallen Angel, a simple flex of his displaying his dedication to his physical form. A body with the arm extension of Adam, an arm ready to hold onto Y/N tight and gentle whenever. The hair could be worn as an afro, in braids or dreads all at the same time, hair that could transform to produce almost any hairstyle. There was so much to one body, to his body and features, that Y/N would never shy away from touching or witnessing him up close.

But maybe this was nothing new, nothing special. You could see what you saw in Trent in any other body, on any other physique. Real or artificial. But when you only have eyes for one single person—when Y/N only had eyes for Trent—suddenly, everything you could see on any other body, on any other person no longer held value to fawn over. Would you hold interest in a body even if you knew of one beforehand? One that was exclusive and personal to you.

Taking a moment to comprehend what your other half was doing in the shower, you make a decision of washing your hair. Stepping aside Trent, you let a deep sigh, waiting for the anticipation of the water hitting your locks. Allowing the water to drip down your skin, your hair within no time, flattens down your sides, and shields your ability to see.

Trent swiftly notices your awkwardly manner, letting an enormous chuckle burst. His vocalization soon causes him to wrap an arm around his stomach, and kneel himself lowly to the ground to halt the pain caused. After a few moments, and Trent had recovered, seeing your lip jut out as though you was a child not getting their own way. He attentively sweeps your extremely dampened hair away out of your face.

Fluttering your eyelashes, you smile at the man stood in front of you, regulating his breath from the joyous laugher. His gaze soon appearing from your eyes to the lips, before he tits his head effortlessly, and closes the gap between you both.

No doubt, the kiss is exceedingly sloppy and far from classy, nevertheless, the close presence of you both, unquestionably gives you the flutteriest belly ever. You felt a comforting, sense of ease with Trent, feelings of compassion and tenderness. 

Being the way Trent is, though he was patient and sweet, occasionally, those feelings got taken by his eagerness and desire. And on this occasion, this seemed to be the case.

Intensifying the kiss, Trent placed his hand upon the cool tiled wall, his arm extending over your head. He lets out muffled grunt against your lips, a signal he was ravenous for more. The steady flow of the water, soon became a distraction. And in Trent's head, his visualization of sorting the issue, was to press your body further away from the stream, and closer to the temperature controls. 

"AGHH!" You roared in discomfort, a mass of incredibly cold water splashing down on you. The pair of you briskly pull away from the stream, Trent tucking you into his chest. You let out a huff of pain, the lack of heat and Trent's lips on yours, leaving you bare.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sweet." Trent tries to conceal his laughter, his words speedily vomiting out. Sighing against his chest, you nuzzle your nose closer to his neck, trying to indulge in his warmth.

"How can people be sexy in the shower, Trent? I simply don't understand," Your tone a muffled grumble, Trent lifts his finger under your chin, tilting your head to interlock with his eyes. "Think we need to work on our posture maybe? I could ask Robbo?"

"No! please, we don't need that Scots input," You shake your head, letting it fall back against his chest. He lets out a chuckle, delicately wiping the tickles of water off your nose.

"Here, lets get back to washing your hair," Trent picks up the coconut scented product, squeezing a small amount onto his hand. Within no time, your back is facing his front, a timid coo escaping your lips from pleasure.

For an unexperienced male, the art of massaging and washing ones hair seemed to be second nature to the Scouser. He ran his fingers gently over your scalp, kneading and emulsifying the liquid into your roots. After a few minutes of satisfaction, and a few hushed moans, he beckons you to wash the product out.

"So who taught you to massage like that? eh?" You face your body back to his, letting him take over the washing out part. "Learnt from me physio, I guess, or could be even-"

"OWW!" You hiss out in pain, your hand hurriedly tending to your eye. Trent, in a rushed panic, tries consoling you. "Trent, you arsewipe!" you nudge an elbow into his stomach, a wheeze of throbbing, groaning from his side.

It wouldn't be Trent, if a giggle hadn't passed his lips. He continues to laugh at your distress, until you pick up the feared razor off the floor. Holding it in his direction, he without a thought, places his hands in the air, at an instant. Yet, before that could happen, Trent had misplaced his foot far too soon in the slippery, foamy puddle on the floor, ending up on the cold wet ground with a thud.

Now its your turn to laugh at him, a eruption of giggles flourish from your body, your head leaning backward in shock. "Karma really is a bitch,"

"Shut up, you minge," Trent exclaims, taking advantage of your hand resting by your side, he grabs it with little force, tugging you down onto the ground with him.

"Oi!" You complain, "You little shit,"

"Was getting lonely down here,"

You tuck yourself next to his bare body, crossing your legs to clear some space around you both. Trent efficiently slung his arm around your waist, pressing you close to his side.

"How have I ended up with shampoo in my eyes, probably leading to 5 years of eye damage." Trent chuckles at your tone, his hand coming to draw circles along your back. "You? Well, your ass is in such a state, I reckon your looking at, a good few weeks on the bench," You pat his knee, "No footie for you, Trentski."

"Great, gives us more time to experiment. Im thinking, anal?” You choke at his words, a hard slap to his knee, and a tut passing your lips. 

"My friends said this was meant to be good. I don't know what they did for it to be good?" You rest your head affixed to his shoulder, his wet curls tickling down your spine.

"I think showering is not for us,"

"I agree."