#trent alexander arnold imagines

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 9 - Waiting | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.8k

You could feel the party roaring on, its energy vibrant and chaotic in the distance as you slipped out of the bathroom with Trent, hearts still racing. The hallway was dimly lit, a contrast to the pulsing lights spilling in from the main room. You smoothed your hair and adjusted your skirt, trying to steady your breathing and regain composure, but Trent was having none of it. Walking just a step behind you, he slipped his hand under your skirt one last time, his fingers grazing your thigh before giving your ass a firm squeeze. The touch sent a shiver through you, your cheeks heating as you whipped your head around to glare at him.

"T!" you whispered, half-scolding, though your voice was laced with a breathless laugh. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the noise from the party almost drowned out his words.

"Thank you for conceding. I was dying, baby." He smirked. You giggled, swatting at his hand to shoo him away. 

"Get off," you whispered again, but the playfulness in your tone betrayed you. “You’re welcome though.” You giggled as you walked further down the hallway, closer to where the rest of the party unfolded.

"I'm keeping my eye on you, yeah?" he hummed, his voice low and teasing. He winked, his hand lingering just long enough to squeeze yours tenderly, the contrast between his touch and his earlier intensity making your heart flutter. With a small, knowing smirk, you drifted back into the crowd, feeling his gaze follow you as you melted into the masses. You didn't need to turn around to know he was watching-he always was. Separating in the chaos of the party, it felt like a secret tether still held you together, pulling you back even when you were apart. You spotted Layla across the room, leaning into an intense conversation. Her laughter echoed above the music, but the second she caught your eye, she excused herself and made a beeline toward you, excitement lighting up her face. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing both of your arms.

“Excuse me….Did you actually just fuck Trent Alexander-Arnold in the loo?” she whispered, her grin widening as she looked at you expectantly, a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t help but smirk, trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Mmhm,” you hummed, a guilty glint in your eye. “Layla….It was…” You began to recount the affair but she cut you off.

“Jesus, this is wild,” she muttered, almost to herself, as if processing it out loud. “I can’t believe this. You’re—this is Trent. And you,” she emphasized, poking your arm, “you and Trent were in a bathroom and you’re sucking him off now? How did we get here?” The two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles, the energy between you bubbling over as you shared every hidden detail and guilty laugh. And somehow, between the laughter, you ended up spilling the parts you’d barely even admitted to yourself.

“It’s… I don’t know. There’s so many sides to it with him. There’s this, like, spontaneous, messy, public-side of things where I’m sending him nudes and he’s meeting me in the bathroom for sex. Like you watched it unfold. The tension is so thick.” You blushed, a little buzzed warmth spreading as you recalled the night’s earlier escapade and all the teasing that led to it. “And then, when it’s just us, alone… I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected to someone. Like it feels so… I feel so… seen.” You told her. Layla raised an eyebrow, her smile softening as she nodded, seeing a depth in your expression that went far beyond the thrill of a secret. 

“Wow… so you’re proper into him, not like the idea… it’s not the years of build up, but like him as a person, right now, you’re down for him,” she said, almost in awe that things had finally come into fruition. You nodded slowly, cautiously realizing it was true. 

“It’s more than just the sex too…” you trailed off, but she finished the thought for you, nodding again.

“Way more.” She told you, confirming she understood. She tried not to pout at you. If you told your younger self this was happening she’d probably scream. You both fell into a comfortable silence, letting it all sink in. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him—Jack, your brother, entering the room, his usual wide grin plastered on his face as he chatted easily with the girl, Megan, he was seeing. The moment you saw him, a pang of guilt swept through you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Jack had been so carefree tonight, so… oblivious. It almost made it worse. He had no idea, and the secrecy felt like a weight pressing down on you. Layla seemed to notice the shift in you immediately, slipping an arm around you in a comforting side hug. 

“You know… he’d want to know,” she whispered, her tone gentle. You looked at her, brows furrowing with doubt. 

“Would he really though? I mean, this is Jack we’re talking about... And me… and Trent.” You wryly smiled. She gave a small laugh.

“Okay, maybe not the details you just gave me,” she admitted, nudging you playfully. “But yeah, I think he’d want to know in general. Especially since you’re saying this isn’t just… bathroom hookups and sneaking around.” You bit your lip, eyes drifting back to where Jack was laughing without a care. The two of you never kept things from each other. And hiding something this big, this serious—it felt wrong. Layla, noticing your conflicted expression, gave your arm a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not like you’re keeping it from him to hurt him, same as you didn’t do that with me,” she said quietly, a touch of sympathy in her voice. “But… you’re really in deep, babe. And if things with Trent are what they seem to be… then Jack probably deserves to know. If only because he’s your brother.” You nodded slowly, her words hitting closer than you wanted to admit. It was true—you didn’t just want the thrill, the excitement of being with Trent. You wanted the real parts too, the ones that lasted beyond the whispers and the hiding. But if that was what you wanted, then hiding didn’t make sense anymore.

Leaving the party felt like slow, deliberate torture. Every step away from Trent was a struggle, a quiet war between what you wanted and what you knew you couldn’t have tonight. The air outside was cool, biting against your skin as you walked toward the car with Jack and Megan, but the warmth of Trent’s hand brushing against yours one last time still lingered like a ghost. Megan gave him a quick hug, her laugh ringing out as she pulled away, while Jack dapped him up with a playful comment about seeing him later. Then it was your turn. His eyes softened when they met yours, filled with a tenderness he couldn’t show in front of your brother. He pulled you into a slow, lingering hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if trying to silently convey everything he couldn’t say out loud. You buried your face into his chest for a brief second, inhaling his scent, before forcing yourself to pull back. Jack and Megan were already turning toward the car, their backs to you, but you felt exposed, like the hug alone had been too much. Trent leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and when you looked up at him, your eyes were glassy, emotions threatening to spill over. He tilted his head, his gaze steady but soft, and mouthed, ‘Go on.’ The words felt heavier than they should have. They weren’t a command—they were permission, an unspoken reassurance that he’d still be there, waiting, even if you had to walk away right now. Your throat tightened as you nodded, stepping back reluctantly and turning toward the car. Every step was agony. You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew if you looked back, you’d break and the secret would be out or worse… maybe he wouldn’t be there. The pull to run back to him, to grab his hand and leave together, was almost unbearable, but you kept moving. The distance between you grew, and with it, the ache in your chest deepened. Sliding into the car beside Jack and Megan, you stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check. The vibration of your phone broke the silence, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

'Call me when you get home. Pls xx.'

The text made your heart ache even more. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, to skip the pretending and sneaking around. But instead, you pressed your head against the cool glass, the world outside shifting into a blur.

You said goodnight to Megan and Jack, leaving them in the kitchen, their playful banter filling the space as they shared slices of late-night pizza. Their laughter echoed down the hallway, warm and light, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. It was a reminder of something you couldn’t have—not right now, not openly. In your en suite, you began the ritual of taking off your makeup, your reflection staring back at you with tired eyes and a growing sense of loneliness. The muffled sound of Megan and Jack’s laughter still carried through the walls, a sharp contrast to the silence of your own thoughts. You felt disconnected, like you were watching life happen around you while standing just outside of it. The ache in your chest swelled, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if Trent had really meant it when he asked you to call. Was it just something he said to soften the blow of walking away? You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. But it did. You wanted him—his voice, his presence, his reassurance. Before you could second-guess yourself, you picked up your phone, scrolling to his name. Your thumb hovered for just a moment before you pressed Call. The line didn’t ring for long before he answered, skipping the formality of a greeting altogether.

“You in bed f’me, pretty girl?” His voice was low, velvety, and full of mischief, but beneath it, there was a warmth that made your chest tighten. The familiarity of it washed over you, melting away the doubt you’d felt just moments before. You couldn’t help but smile, even though he couldn’t see it. 

“Maybe I am,” you teased softly, leaning against the bathroom counter. Subconsciously pushing your boobs together as if for him, as if he was there. 

“Don’t play coy, baby,” he murmured, the sound of his voice alone enough to make you feel less alone. “Tell me. Are you in bed, waiting for me to call and say goodnight?” He asked you sweetly but there was an undercurrent of seduction. The idea of him in your bed had your imagination running wild with the things you wish you could do right now. You let out a small laugh, the tension of the night loosening ever so slightly. 

“Not yet. I’m still getting ready.” You cooed softly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, the sound deep and indulgent. “Take your time, yeah? Then get comfy for me. I’m not hanging up.” His confidence wrapped around you like a blanket, making you feel safer than you had all evening. You leaned against the counter, letting his voice fill the quiet space, hoping this call would stretch long into the night. You kept him on the line, the sound of his voice soothing you as you moved through your nighttime routine. It was easy to let yourself get lost in his casual tone, the way he teased and spoke to you as if nothing about this situation was out of the ordinary. But that’s what gnawed at you—you hated how okay he seemed with it all. The sneaking, the hiding, the distance. It was second nature to him, and it made you feel like maybe you weren’t as different as you thought. Finally, you crawled into bed, pulling the blankets tight around you as though they could replace his warmth. The emptiness of the space beside you felt glaring, and you couldn’t shake the longing. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to be content with just the sound of his voice.

“Y’alright, baby?” Trent’s voice was softer now, his playful edge giving way to genuine concern. You hesitated, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Yeah,” you lied, though your tone betrayed you.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He asked a question he already knew the answer to. You let out a sigh, your emotions threatening to spill over. 

“I just… I hate this,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “I hate that you’re not here. I hate that we can’t just be normal. I hate that I feel like this while you seem… fine.” The line was silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound. 

“You think I’m fine?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Y/N, I’m trying to keep it together because if I don’t, I’ll go mad. You think I don’t hate this too? That I don’t wish I could be there with you right now?” You swallowed hard, your heart twisting at his words. 

“Then why are you so okay with it?” You snapped a bit harsher than you meant to. Maybe it was the liquor or maybe you genuinely were annoyed. 

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “I’m not okay with it at all. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the words. “I hate seeing you upset. I hate knowing you’re there alone. But what am I supposed to do? Show up at your place with Jack there? Ruin everything?” His voice softened, a raw vulnerability creeping in. “I miss you, baby. So much it’s driving me insane. But this is how it has to be.” He cooed as tears slipped down your cheeks as you clutched the phone tighter. 

“I just want you here,” you whispered. You really weren’t sure if this was fueled by liquor or love. You felt like you could taste the tequila though. You could hear his sigh, feel the shared frustration hanging in the air between you.

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “Me too.” The silence stretched between you, heavy with longing and frustration. He tried to comfort you, whispering soft reassurances, but it did little to ease the ache of his absence. Nothing could. You closed your eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his voice, pretending it was enough. 

“I wish I was with you. You can’t imagine how hard this is for me. Maybe we could’ve just—” He began to talk but you interrupted him.

“But we can’t, we’ve said that… I know” you snapped again, cutting him off harshly though your tone softened immediately after as you added a confessional. “I’d give anything to be with you right now.” You whispered meekly. 

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver through you, “I’m still here, baby. Maybe not how we want… but I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured you.

“Promise?” you whispered, clutching your phone a little tighter, feeling silly but needing to hear him actually say it. 

“Promise,” he said gently, like it was the easiest promise he’d ever make. A warmth flooded through you at the thought, as though you’d somehow erased the space between you. Even as you said goodnight, you could still feel him with you, his voice lingering in your mind long after you’d both hung up.

Leaving the party separately had been a harsh reminder of what you were hiding, a chasm between the life you had with Trent and the life you wanted. On the outside, you tried to act like it was fine—just some casual, lighthearted fling—but inside, you knew better. You felt yourself slipping deeper into something real with him, you heard yourself admitting things to him over the phone you probably shouldn’t have. That you missed him, you wanted him, all of it and it terrified you as much as it thrilled you. But for Trent, maybe that weight felt different. He was in deep with you too, but he couldn’t shake that you were Jack’s little sister. It added a whole other layer, a silent complicating factor neither of you could ignore. So when you invited him over for a night in, hoping you’d have a rare moment of normalcy, you half-expected him to agree. Just for once, you wanted him to choose you without hesitation. Not have him in control. You wanted to take the reins for a change, feel like equals in this. But that same night, Noah invited the boys for a movie, it was as if all your unspoken fears were confirmed. Trent texted you back, saying he’d already agreed to go to Noah’s. He tried to explain it, to make it seem like he was doing it ‘for’ you but there was no reasoning that made it make sense.

'If I disapear too much the lads will start asking questions, yk?' 'Just trying to keep things lowkey' 'Can't risk you, baby' 'You understand, yeah?'

As much as you tried to rationalize it—remind yourself that he was being practical, maybe even protective—it still stung. You felt like you’d been put back in a box, hidden away for the sake of convenience. The ache of not being chosen sat heavy in your chest, wrapping around your heart as the minutes passed, and you couldn’t ignore the sting of it. You’d never asked for much: just for him to show up, to be with you for one night in a way that didn’t involve excuses or sneaking around. It was sneaking around but at least you were the one orchestrating it. You wanted him to want you enough to choose you over everyone else. Sitting alone in your room, you considered texting him back. Your fingers hovered over the screen, wondering if you should tell him how you felt—that it wasn’t just about wanting his company, but needing him to prioritize you, even if just for a night. But you didn’t. You were too afraid of saying too much, of sounding needy, or worse—of pushing him away. You’d already felt like you’d let him know too much. 

Instead, you set your phone aside, biting back the words that threatened to spill out. The silence felt like it was swallowing you whole, and your room suddenly felt unbearably empty. You laid back against your pillow, staring up at the ceiling, trying to let the quiet lull you into some kind of acceptance. You told yourself he was just being practical, that he was trying to be careful, but it didn’t stop the feeling of being second. You wanted to be the person he chose without having to justify it, without having to feel like an afterthought or a secret tucked away out of convenience.

Hours passed, and the room grew colder, but your thoughts wouldn’t relent. You tried to remember the good moments, the way he held you close when you woke up together, the way he whispered in your ear with that effortless charm. You tried to replay those memories in your head, hoping they’d soften the ache, but all they did was remind you of what was missing right now. It wasn’t just the thrill of sneaking around or the excitement of a late-night rendezvous. It was him—all of him. You wanted his laughter, his warmth, his undivided attention, and his willingness to show up for you without needing a reason or an excuse. It hurt to realize that as much as you both felt something real, this still felt fragile. It was so precious and yet so precarious, a relationship built on stolen moments and hushed promises, kept alive by the hope that maybe one day it would be more. You wondered how much longer you could go on like this, hiding, hoping, feeling torn between the undeniable attraction and the fear that you’d always come second. A pang of hurt riffled through your chest wondering if you’d be strong enough to even get out of this. You wanted to be with him, and you wanted him to feel the same way without holding back. But tonight, lying there alone, you couldn’t ignore the whispering doubts that crept into your mind. Maybe this was all it would ever be—a secret romance, hidden away, safe from the prying eyes but not from the ache of feeling like you were only a part of his life when it was convenient. And as much as you wanted to deny it, a part of you wondered how long you could keep going like this, waiting for the day he’d choose you openly, without hesitation, without excuses.

The silence had grown too heavy, and the second you texted Layla, she was on her way over, sensing the need for support without question. Minutes later, she arrived, all energy and anticipation, ready for a debrief. You couldn’t help but spill everything—how Trent had chosen a night with the boys over time with you, his excuses about ‘keeping things low-key,’ and how much it had stung to feel like you were being hidden, set aside when convenient. Layla’s temper flared but she bit her tongue and let you continue on. But as you wrapped up, Layla’s eyes glimmered with a knowing smirk and a plan. 

“If he wants to pie you off for the lads… remind him of all the ways you aren’t one of them, why you’re the better option. His only option.” She shifted on the bed, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow. 

“Lays…” You laughed, but there was caution in your tone as you murmured her name, sensing where she was going.

“Call him right now.” She leaned in, her voice firm and commanding. “He likes games so much—let’s play one,” she added with a mischievous glint, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke out. You adjusted yourself on the bed, propping up your phone as she settled in beside you, giving you a conspiratorial nod. Your fingers hovered over Trent’s name, your nerves buzzing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. You hit the call button, and after a few rings, he picked up. You lounged back against the pillows, your phone resting on speaker between you and Layla. She was biting her lip to suppress her giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as you waited for Trent to answer. When Trent saw your name flash on your phone, his heart skipped a bit. He wanted to answer but he couldn’t, Jack was on the other end of the couch. He was swift darting out the room. When he finally did pick up, now safely tucked in the lonely confines of Noah’s kitchen, his voice was soft, quiet, laced with distraction. 

"Y’alright, baby," he greeted, sounding casual, completely unaware of what was about to hit him.

“Hi," you replied, your voice a sultry purr. You knew exactly what you were doing. "I didn’t expect you to pick up with the movie and all…What are you up to?" you asked. 

"Nah, you know I’d always pick up your call," he answered, the faint hum of voices and a movie’s score blaring in another room audible in the background.

"Hmm," you hummed, dragging the sound out just enough to catch his attention. You glanced at Layla, who was already covering her mouth to muffle her laughter. "I've just been lying here... feeling so bored today." Trent didn't pick up on it immediately, his voice still distracted. 

"Yeah? What've you been doing, pretty girl?" He asked aimlessly, just happy to hear you talk. Your lips curved into a devilish smile, and you decided to drop the bomb. 

"Nothing much, haven’t left my bed really" you murmured, keeping your tone soft, teasing. "Just... thinking about you. All day. It's been driving me crazy." You cooed teasingly. There was a pause, a sharp inhale on the other end. 

"What?" His tone shifted instantly, the casual air replaced by something much more focused.

"I've been so horny, baby," you whispered, your voice low, almost a whine. "And now I'm all alone, just... lying here. Thinking about you." You whimpered. “What we’d be doing.” You doubled down and Layla made a face shocked at how easily this all flowed out of your mouth. Trent went completely silent for a moment. You could picture him, frozen in place, probably running a hand over his jaw as he tried to process your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. 

"You can't be saying stuff like this to me right now." He told you as his brain continued to be scrambled. 

"You're not here so I wanted to call. What else am I supposed to do? Just sit here... you know what they say about idle hands," you teased, dragging your words out with a playful lilt.  Layla clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You glanced at her, grinning, and decided to push a little further. "I even thought about calling you earlier, but I didn't want to bother you while you were with the boys. I mean...” You let out a soft, breathy sigh. "You clearly had other priorities but I just… wanted to be reminded of your voice in my ear." You moaned feigning sexual indignation. That did it. 

"Babyyyy," Trent groaned, his tone a mix of frustration and desire. "Stop playing with me." He ran his hand over his hair trying to not get too excited by your words, his joggers were beginning to tent. He was still at Noah’s house but he was about ready to get in his car right now. 

"Who says I'm playing?" you countered, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "I'm just... lonely. I mean, I'm wearing that little top you like. Or... I was." You told him a blatant lie. Layla’s eyes widened, shaking her head, looking at you fully covered up in a jumper.  You heard him curse softly under his breath, the faintest sound of a chair scraping as he moved. 

"Why are you doing this to me?" he muttered, his voice lower now, raspier.

"I’m not doing anything. You're just not here," you shot back, your tone both teasing and genuine. "And I wanted you to know that I really… really… wish you were." You taunted him.  Trent groaned again, louder this time. You could hear the faint shuffle of movement on his end.

"Where are you?" he asked suddenly, his voice tense.

"I told you, I’m in bed," you replied, leaning back and letting your voice drop dripping with faux innocence. "All by myself. Thinking about you." You confirmed the lie once over as Layla scoffed. 

"Jesus Christ," Trent muttered. You could picture him now, pacing the kitchen, probably running a hand over his hair in frustration. And you were correct. He was doing just that trying to figure out what to do right now. Layla gave you a sly grin.

"Well," you said, dragging out the word, "then I guess I'll just have to keep myself company. Maybe I’ll send you a picture of what I’m up to while you’re at Noah’s?" You suggested.

"Baby" he warned, his voice sharp. But there was a tremor in it, a crack that told you exactly how much he wanted you to follow through. He couldn’t handle this, his head was on mars.

"Oh, but I thought you liked that, when I sent you photos, didn’t you?" you mocked him. If he wanted movie night with the boys so badly, you were going to make it hell. Send him the nastiest picture you had yet while he had to sit there on his hands. It felt good to have the power shifting.  "You don’t want to see me?" You asked feigning innocence.

“Pretty girl, I am dying here…. Please. Don’t do this to me.” He begged you. He wanted a photo of you more than anything in the world. But the idea of having just to sit on it. Doing nothing with it was excruciating. What was he meant to do here? He was on the phone in the middle of the film, if he left now… what would his excuse be but… you were home alone, he wanted to be there. 

"Hmm, maybe. You always ask me to be a good girl for you… Why couldn’t you be good for me once. Just for tonight." You cooed teasingly. That’s all you wanted was tonight- wasn’t too much but now he’d pay.

"I'm always good for you," he shot back without hesitation, the heat in his voice making Layla raise her eyebrows at you in mock disbelief.

"Are you?" you teased, shifting in bed and letting your voice drop to a softer, more tempting tone. "Because if you were, you wouldn't have left me all alone tonight for the boys." Trent groaned again. He really regretted his decision. He thought he was doing this to benefit your relationship. And now he realized that he didn’t give a shit about what the boys thought, he wanted to be there with you. 

“Nah, baby fuck them. I’ll come over right now. Swear. I’m sorry, baby. I want to come be with you. ” His voice had dropped, the suggestion loaded, as if he’d already started picturing it. Layla shot you a look, one that dared you to turn the tables even further. You bit your lip, taking the plunge. 

"Well, it’s too late now. You're with them, and I'm here alone." You dragged out the last word, knowing exactly what it would do to him. Your lips curled into a satisfied smirk. 

“Don’t.” He threatened you. He pretended to hit his head against the cupboard in front of him. He was regretting every decision up until this point. He felt so stupid but he wasn’t keen on letting you play with him like this. 

"Don't what?" you asked innocently, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers. "Don't tell you that l've been lying here, thinking about you? That l've been imaging all the ways your hands would be on me, all the ways I could’ve been good for you?" You taunted him. Layla flopped on the bed squeezing your leg shocked that you went this far. 

"Baby, you're killing me," Trent muttered, his frustration palpable. Layla shot you a grin and mouthed, ‘keep going.’ 

"I think I'll take a long, hot shower," you mused aloud, your tone thoughtful but teasing. "Let the water run over me, help me relax after such a long, lonely night." Trent cursed softly under his breath, and you could hear the faint sound of him shifting.

"I'm coming over, baby. Enough," he declared suddenly, his tone firm, decisive.

"No, it's okay," you said quickly, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced. Layla gestured wildly, as if to say ’this is what we wanted.’ She wanted you to break him down to a begging point and you’d gotten there, actually coming over though and giving him best of both worlds? Not going to happen. “Seriously, it's fine," you continued, trying to keep the upper hand. "I'll just shower, maybe do some online shopping. Pick out something... special for maybe some upcoming plans..." Trent let out a low, guttural groan that made your stomach flip.  He shook his head to gain some composure. He needed to get a grip but all the visuals you were giving we’re sending him into orbit. He took a deep breath before his next words. His controlled demeanor returning.

"Yeah? How about you get something for when I come over next, hmm?” Trent's voice dropped a little, thick with anticipation. “Be a good girl, I’ll send you my card, just something special only for me?" He murmured, his tone laced with a possessive edge that sent a thrill through you. Layla looked at you admittedly having a hard time turning down the offer. Maybe you could do both. You bit your lip, pretending to consider his suggestion. 

"Maybe," you teased, letting the word hang in the air. "But only if you're lucky."

"I'll make sure I'm lucky," he shot back, his voice thick with determination. "You just wait for me, baby. Then, I'm gonna make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Promise." He told you. “Just f’me baby.” He pleaded.  

"Brooo, embarrassing!" Noah teased, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his grin wide and taunting. Trent froze, his face heating as Noah burst into laughter.

"Fuck off," Trent snapped, his voice sharper than intended as he quickly turned his back to Noah, gripping his phone tighter. He was met with silence from your end, and for a second, his heart sank. He couldn't let Noah know it was you or worse his intrusion derail this moment.

"You're gonna be in my bed tonight, yeah?" Trent asked again, his voice quieter now, more serious, his heart pounding as he waited for your answer. On your end, you paused, savoring the power shift. You finally, for once had the upper hand. He was trying to get it back telling you matter of fact you’d sleep with him tonight but Layla gestured wildly, mouthing say no, keep him hooked, while you bit back a smirk.

"Hmm... I don't know," you mused, dragging the words out just enough to make him squirm. “I'm so tired." You told him. Trent was panicking. He couldn’t focus on the two simultaneous happenings. 

"Nah, nah,  nah, don't do me like that, bab– ," Trent blurted, his voice softening, but then he caught Noah's smirk out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his jaw, stopping himself after the first  syllable of ‘baby,’ trying to reel it back in. Noah raised an eyebrow, looking far too entertained by the scene.

 "Who is that? Who are we calling baby?" he pressed, stepping closer with mock curiosity. "Got you out here begging, bro." Trent shot him a glare but didn't take the phone away from his ear. 

"Nah." he just dismissed quickly, his tone defensive. “Girl I’m seeing.” He clarified waving Noah off, hoping that was sufficient to get him to leave. 

"No, seriously, who’s this? Who's got you acting like this," Noah continued, his grin growing, mocking Trent.

"Seriously, bro, fuck off," Trent repeated, trying to sound firm but feeling increasingly flustered. On your end, Layla was barely holding in her laughter, watching and listening to this unfold like a soap opera. 

"Looks like someone's been caught out down bad," she whispered, making you giggle softly.

"Stop it," you hissed at her, but your voice was playful, your smile betraying you.

"Baby," Trent said again, ignoring Noah entirely now as he refocused on you. His voice was a mix of pleading and frustration. "Don't make me wait. Please." Layla's eyes widened, interested in his response. You leaned back against your pillows, feeling victorious. 

"You seem to have company. You can text me and I'll think about it.” You teased, your tone light but noncommittal.

"Don't think too long," Trent shot back quickly, a hint of desperation slipping through his controlled exterior.

"Bro, she's got you wrapped so tight. I'm actually impressed." Noah, now sitting on a stool at the kitchen island for the show, bursting into laughter again. Trent groaned, running a hand over his face as he tried to ignore Noah. 

"Baby," he muttered into the phone before you hung up abruptly, not giving him a chance to get another word in. 

“Oh boy… You've got him wrapped around your finger, huh, even his boys are calling him on it.," Layla said, grinning, a mutual flare of victory behind her eyes. Noah smirked, watching as Trent tossed his phone onto the counter and leaned against it, visibly irritated and flustered.

"So, who is she?" Noah prodded once over. 

"Nah, mate…None of your business," Trent replied flatly, though his cheeks betrayed him, flushing with heat. 

"Oh, it's definitely my business now," Noah said, his grin widening. "I've gotta meet the girl who's got TAA tripping over himself like this. Jesus mate… Look at you.” He looked at Trent, eyes wide, almost falling into shock at Trent’s vulnerability. 

"Not happening," Trent muttered, already regretting how much he'd let slip. Meanwhile, back at your place, Layla threw herself onto you, giggling.

"Oh my God, that was perfect! Did you hear him?" She asked like a proud mum. You couldn't help but smile, your phone still warm in your hand. 

"Yeah," you said softly, the sound of Trent's voice still echoing in your ears. "I did." 

“Come on… calling her baby? begging her to get in your bed? How leng is she?” Noah asked Trent, laughing. Trent laughed with him but more out of nerves.

 “Yeah, she’s…” Trent paused momentarily really thinking about how to answer this. It was awkward. Noah knew exactly what you looked liked. They’d in fact had full conversations about Jack’s little sister… but that’s not who he was just on the phone with...and yet unfortunately, it was  “She’s my dream girl, mate.” Trent said it aloud, unable to stop the words falling out. The admission a vocal realization of how deep he was in. Noah’s laughter slowed, his teasing grin softening into something closer to curiosity. 

“Dream girl?” he echoed, eyebrows raised. “You’re proper in it, aren’t you?” Trent let out a nervous laugh, running his hands over his face as if to hide. Saying it out loud felt reckless, but he couldn’t take it back now.

“Uh yeah, man, I guess,” Trent muttered, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the weight of his feelings. “She’s… different. I’ve never felt like this about anyone.” Noah leaned back, crossing his arms, his grin lingering. 

“So, what’s the deal then? Why’re you sneaking around like this? If she’s that great, just bring her around.” Trent hesitated, glancing down at his phone. 

“It’s not that simple.” Trent told him ambiguously. Noah tilted his head, his curiosity sharpening. 

“Not that simple? What, is she married or something?” He let out a laugh, clearly joking, but Trent’s silence made him pause. “Oi, you’re serious? What’s going on here?”  He asked. Trent sighed, shaking his head. 

“She’s not married, man. It’s just… complicated. She’s not someone I can just bring around.” Noah studied him for a moment, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. 

“You’re not usually this cagey about girls, bro. What makes her so special?” Trent’s lips curved into a small, involuntary smile as he thought of you. 

“She’s… mate…” He groaned. “She's everything. But like… she knows exactly how to get under my skin, and I can’t even be mad at her for it. She’s just… s different.” He admitted. Noah’s eyebrows shot up once more. 

“Wow. Fuck. Outta nowhere. Sounds like she’s got you good. So, what’s the holdup? The boys’ll rinse you a bit, sure, but they’ll get over it.” Trent hesitated, glancing away. Noah was slightly confused considering Trent hadn’t been seeing anyone as far as he knew. Yet, suddenly the apparent love of his life existed and he was keeping mum. 

“It’s not the boys. It’s…” He trailed off, catching himself before he said too much. “It’s just… complicated,” he repeated. Noah would be lying if he said you didn’t pop into his head, Trent never was this reserved about girls except about you. He’d clam up in conversations just like this but he immediately dismissed the idea. No way. He raised an eyebrow one again, clearly unconvinced but deciding not to push further. 

“Alright, man. Keep your secrets. But if she’s really your dream girl, maybe stop overthinking it. Sounds like she’d be worth it.” He cooed. Trent nodded, grateful that Noah didn’t press further. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She is.” As Noah walked out of the room, shaking his head with a chuckle, Trent stayed behind, his thoughts spinning. He hated how close he’d come to slipping up. The truth about you was something he wasn’t ready to share—not with Noah, not with anyone. He couldn’t. Pulling out his phone, he opened your message thread, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing:

'You drove me nuts calling me like that'

'I’m sorry I’m not with you tonight. Let’s change that though'

'I miss you, baby. Please'

'Come over tonight.’

'Pretty girl. WYA '

Hitting send, he sighed, wishing he could call you without all the secrecy. Wishing you were there with him now. You pouted at the messages. As confident as he was with you, as much pull as he had with you, he would go so soft. You frowned looking at Layla showing her the messages. She gave you a sympathetic smile knowing she was going to have to be the backbone here. You didn’t go to Trent’s that night, no matter how many times he asked. Each message pulled at your resolve, every word he sent tempting you to cave. But Layla wouldn’t let you. She sat cross-legged at the foot of your bed, her phone in hand, giving you an almost maternal look whenever you glanced her way.

“Tell him to enjoy movie night with the boys,” she instructed firmly, like she was holding you accountable. “And then put your phone down. He can wait. Let him miss you.” She told you. You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you stared at the screen. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, trying to find the right words, ones that didn’t feel like a lie or mean. But all you wanted was to give in. To text him back, I’m on my way, and go to him. To be held. To forget all the chaos and just feel normal again.

Instead, you typed:

‘Enjoy movie night with the boys. I’ll see you soon. xx’

As soon as you hit send, you regretted it. The moment felt cold, detached—nothing like what you were feeling inside. And then came the ache, that deep, gnawing ache in your chest that had settled there the first time you realized being with Trent wasn’t going to be easy.

“Good,” Layla said, leaning back on her elbows like she’d won a small battle for you. “Now, let’s watch something. Distract yourself. Get that boy off your mind for a minute” But you couldn’t. Not really. The night stretched on endlessly, punctuated by the occasional buzz of your phone.

'I wish you were here' 'Can we stop this already?' 'Please come over'  'Baby, I’ll make it up to you' 'Please'

Each text was a lifeline, pulling you closer to giving in. You stared at them for so long the screen dimmed, and Layla had to snatch the phone from your hands. 

“You’re torturing yourself. You told him no, and that’s it.” You shot her a look, but you knew she was right. This was the reality you were living now—pushing and pulling, holding back, trying to find some balance in the chaos. It was exhausting. When you finally climbed into bed that night, the ache in your chest still hadn’t faded. You stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering if Trent was doing the same. The next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, as though you’d hardly slept at all. The weight of the night before hadn’t lifted. You reached for your phone out of habit, not expecting anything. It buzzed just as your fingers grazed the screen, and you nearly dropped it as Trent’s name lit up.

'Wish I got to see you last night.'

'Was going to swing by this morning but didn’t want to press' 'Boarding my flight now. xx'

You sat up, your stomach sinking as realization hit: you’d completely forgotten he had an away game. And now, you weren’t going to see him for days. The message was short, but you could feel the disappointment behind it. He had wanted to see you. Needed it, maybe. And now he was leaving without that reassurance, without that connection that only you could give him. What if he found comfort somewhere else now? What if all these games pushed him into someone else? Your heart clenched as you stared at the words, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. What could you even say? The whole relationship was starting to feel like a tangled web—secrets, games, hurt feelings. It wasn’t what you wanted. You missed the simplicity of what it had been before. The ease, the honesty, the way you could just be together without second-guessing everything. You typed a response and deleted it twice, agonizing over every word. Eventually, you sent something simple, though it felt inadequate:

'I wish I’d seen you. Safe flight. xx'

As soon as it delivered, your stomach twisted. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t capture how badly you wanted to see him, how much you missed him already. But what else could you say? The distance—both physical and emotional—was becoming unbearable, and you didn’t know how to fix it. You lay back down, holding your phone to your chest. The ache was back, worse than before. You closed your eyes, wishing things could be different. Wishing you could be on that plane with him, just to be close to him, leaving the rest of the world behind.

Leverkusen two, Liverpool nil,… It’d been two days since you dangled yourself in front of Trent like a carrot only to snatch it all away. The problem was… though it felt good in the moment, the aftermath was proving to be worse than you could’ve ever anticipated. You hated that the way you’d left things was in a state of humor, a tease, pushing him away all for a game. When you found yourself in the living room of your house with Trent sat across the room after he’d returned the game you felt sick. His posture hunched and tense, every bit of him radiating frustration and disappointment. All the boys kept making jokes, each one hitting harder than they likely intended. His clenched fists and barely-contained sighs told you just how deep their words were cutting. They didn’t see the way his face fell, the flicker of pain that crossed his eyes with each jab. They didn’t see the way he kept glancing toward you, as though willing you to step in, to pull him out of this moment. You knew he wanted you to see him—to reach him. You wanted to be that person for him, more than anything. You were holding yourself back by sheer force of will, gripping the edges of the sofa with knuckles gone white, willing yourself not to move. Your mind was racing with everything you wanted to say to him, everything you’d have said if you’d just been alone. If no one else was there, you’d already be beside him, leaning into his shoulder, whispering words of encouragement and understanding. You’d have reminded him how talented he was, how one match didn’t define him, how you believed in him more than he could ever know. And maybe you’d even have let your guard down enough to hold him in your arms, the way he’d crave but never ask for. But here you sat, frozen, with your brother on the other side of the room and Jack and Trent’s friends filling the space, each of them blissfully unaware of the silent battle raging between you two. They could never understand the weight of restraint you were feeling. They laughed off his silence as sulking, making exaggerated comments about how he’d ‘bounced back by now’ or joking that he should ‘man up,’ ‘it’s one loss.’  It wasn’t the loss though. They had no idea what was really on the line, how much he was feeling, and how much you were holding back. Every few moments, Trent’s gaze would dart to you, quick and fleeting, with a look that made your stomach turn. It was the kind of look that was desperate, searching, like he was asking if you really cared about him, if you’d be willing to break the unspoken rules to be there for him in this moment. And you wanted to—God, you wanted to reach out and offer him some sliver of comfort. A part of him felt like this was a test, an opportunity. He was beginning to question if this was all a silly game to you. Were you just getting a thrill out of teasing him, making him act like a fool, beg for you, risk things for you… all of these things making him radically weaker. He didn’t want to be weak the way you were making him especially if you didn’t care in these moments. In these moments when he craved you most.  

Finally, he exhaled, a quiet, resigned sigh that felt like a blade slicing through the room. His shoulders sagged as though he’d decided it wasn’t worth hoping anymore, that he’d been foolish to expect more. You felt the shame tighten in your throat, guilt twisting like a knot in your stomach as you watched him swallow his frustration and put on a blank expression, tuning out the laughter and teasing around him. Without thinking, you offered him a small, apologetic smile, a silent reassurance meant only for him. It felt like such a feeble gesture, yet it was all you could give. And as you watched his face fall in response, you realized just how painful that distance was for him, how much he was holding onto every small hint of care you could offer. But it wasn’t enough. Not for him, and not for you. The weight of all the things left unsaid, all the unspoken feelings piling between you, felt unbearable. And in that moment, you knew that this wasn’t just about a bad game or hurt pride. This was about you and Trent, and the boundaries you’d set that had slowly turned from necessary to suffocating. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hide this with you, that you wanted to be there for him no matter who was around, that he didn’t have to pretend everything was fine. But instead, you sat there, lips pressed together, feeling the gulf between you grow wider, the silence stretching and suffocating as you both stayed exactly where you were. You were so scared of Jack noticing the tension but Trent wasn’t even thinking about Jack anymore. He was thinking how when he used to come home after away games, a loss especially… he’d find solace in you. Whether it be a conversation, a cuddle, even a tease and now it had all been yanked away for what felt like in exchange for sex. Yes, the best sex of his life but nevertheless he missed you. His Y/N. You’d bring him comfort that no amount of women he’d fuck out of frustration post match could bring.  Little did you know for years you’d comforted him more after losses than anyone else.

Trent moved purposefully, his posture stiff and unyielding as he walked away from the group. He ignored the teasing laughs, barely acknowledging his friends’ calls for drinks as he made his way to the kitchen, his strides wide and determined, putting distance between himself and everyone else—especially you. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by a heaviness that seemed to weigh down his every step. You offered to help. Your feet padding after him. You followed him, trailing a few steps behind, your heart hammering as you searched for the right words, the perfect gesture to make up for the comfort you’d denied him earlier. But as you reached the kitchen, you found yourself hesitating, feeling suddenly unsure. The kitchen lights cast a faint glow over him, and you caught the slight sag in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with tension. He was trying to hold it together, to keep that wall up, even as everything inside him was breaking down. And for the first time, you saw that hurt so clearly it felt like a knife to the heart. Trent wasn’t just upset about the game, or the loss, or the teasing—he was hurting because you weren’t there. He felt isolated, the pain of the distance between you two evident in his face, like every unspoken word and touch denied had finally hit him all at once. When he turned and met your gaze, it was like every bit of his usual bravado melted away. His eyes were shadowed, raw with emotions he’d held back for so long, and suddenly he looked as vulnerable as you’d ever seen him. And there it was—strong, unwavering Trent, laid bare in front of you, and it wasn’t anger or frustration you saw, but hurt. He was hurt that he couldn’t lean on you, that the boundaries you’d put up for protection had left him feeling like he had no one at all. For years, you had been there for him, in your own subtle ways, always the one who could bring him back after a loss, the one who understood the weight he carried. Now, those small gestures were gone, replaced by a new silence, a void where there had once been comfort. And as he looked at you, you could feel the distance between you two more than ever, the painful shift from confidants to something hidden, fragile, undefined. 

“Trent,” you whispered, the word barely audible, your heart breaking as you watched his gaze fall, unable to meet yours. “I’m… I’m sorry.” For a moment, he didn’t respond, only letting out a long breath, his shoulders sagging further. He finally looked at you, eyes searching, filled with something that was equal parts need and resignation. Your reception was cold when you saw him earlier though . A far cry from what used to happen. You were overdoing the nonchalance  “I don’t know how to be there for you with Jack and them around.” You whispered cautiously looking back over your shoulder. Trent shook his head annoyed by the fear in your volume and posture.

“I always take care of you. Always. And just once I’m asking you to be there for me.”  He spoke to you harshly. His words felt like a yell in comparison to your whisper, though they stayed in the confines of the room. “Please” he muttered out meekly, almost as if he was begging for you and couldn’t stop himself from being so weak for you. His voice tinged with a vulnerability that tore at you. He hated this. Every bit of him ached for you but he was embarrassed by it. Your heart ached, the weight of his words settling over you like a fog, and in that moment, you understood. He didn’t want your apology; he just wanted you. Not in secret, not hidden, but fully and openly. And as the silence hung between you, you felt the depth of his loneliness—how he was standing here, hurting, because he felt he had to keep all of this to himself. It felt like you were choosing everyone else over him. You felt the tension begin to rise. 

“Trent….” You cooed gently, stepping forward. The kitchen island separating you two, worlds apart. He winced at your tenderness before you spoke again. His reaction to your gentleness the unsaid and said words of his, started to spark. Your own emotions about your situation getting the better of you “We’re nothing… How do you want me to act?” You explained trying to make it better. And there it was… nothing. All this fuss for nothing.  Your words cut deep. He let his eyes flutter closed. He felt his blood run cold. He felt like he wanted to be sick. This was awful. How did this happen? His place of comfort, you,  suddenly turned upside down and defined by you as nothing.  Your words hung in the air, slicing through the silence with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. Trent’s expression hardened, his mouth set in a tight line, the softness you’d seen just moments ago completely gone. He looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, almost as if he were absorbing the impact of what you’d just said. You caught yourself and tried to retract. “T… I don’t mean.” You stuttered before he cut you off. 

“Nah, it's cool. Noted. And apparently I’m the one pushing this relationship behind closed doors?” He taunted you. “You just told me I’m nothing to you.” He snapped. You felt like you were going to fall through the floors. His temper flared. Trent had returned. The soft lover boy you made him was gone and he wasn’t about to let you hurt him. “Nothing?” he repeated, almost unsure of the word's definition anymore. “That’s what this is to you?” The words came out with a raw, hurt edge. You could feel yourself faltering, his reaction unraveling the certainty you’d tried to build. There was a fragile tension between you two, a line you both knew you couldn’t keep walking forever, and now it was fraying with every passing second. Your stomach twisted painfully as his eyes flashed with anger, the softness you were so used to seeing in him now buried under layers of hurt. He took a sharp breath, his hands balled into fists as he steadied himself, like he was forcing every word through gritted teeth. “Nothing, yeah?” he repeated, his voice low and harsh, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he usually reserved just for you.

“I just…” you faltered, reaching out toward him, trying to find the words to make it right, but he stepped back, a bitter scoff escaping his lips. “Fucking at parties in the toilet isn’t any sort of commitment, the games… that’s not real. And that’s what it is… to you,” you muffled, recalling every moment you felt hidden away by Trent hammering home how small this must’ve felt to him, but right now, you were learning that wasn’t the case in his mind. 

“You think I’ve been doing all this for nothing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the pain was clear. He seemed to be searching your face, looking for any sign that this hadn’t all been in vain, that he hadn’t been holding on for something that didn’t exist outside of stolen moments. “I’ve tried, over and over, to make you feel like this was real to me,” he murmured, his tone laced with frustration and disappointment. “But every time, it’s like… I’m not enough to make you believe it.”

“Trent, it’s not that simple,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “I just said, I don’t know how to… be there for you when Jack is around, when everyone’s watching us. It’s just…” you trailed off, hating how small and helpless you sounded, knowing it only confirmed his worst fears.

“Nah, I get it.” His voice was laced with frustration, the pain visible in every gesture, every tightly clenched muscle. “So who’s the one hiding, really?” He was being mildly petty but it was steaming from real hurt. You felt a sting as his words hit you. He was right—he was right in a way that made you feel raw and exposed. You had let your fear take over, let it draw lines around a relationship you were too scared to fully step into. The gravity of what he was saying settled over you, pressing down on you with a weight you hadn’t anticipated. He exhaled, pressing his hands into the countertop, looking down as if trying to collect himself. “I know it’s not simple,” he said, a bitter edge to his voice. “But I just… I thought you felt something. I thought we both wanted this.” You could feel yourself trembling, caught between your fear of losing him and the reality of what being with him meant. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel it—if anything, you felt it so deeply it scared you. But facing that truth meant giving up the safety of your old life, and it was that thought that made you hesitate, that kept you on the edge, unable to fully commit. He watched you hesitate. The pain rifled through his heart. He looked at you and sighed. “Baby…” He pleaded. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, seeing you every day and not being able to act like you’re mine?” Trent’s voice was softer now, almost a plea. “It’s… it’s hell. And I’m trying to be patient, but…” he stopped, his gaze locking with yours, his eyes holding a mix of hope and despair. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this if I’m the only one who’s all in.” The weight of his words settled over you, making your chest tighten with a longing that threatened to pull you apart. You wanted to reach out, to reassure him, to tell him you did feel it, that he wasn’t alone. But the fear, the reality of what this all meant, held you back, leaving you paralyzed. It was confusing because it was so obvious there was a miscommunication but you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he genuinely believed he was the one all in. He wasn’t convinced you weren’t as in as he was. In that moment, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, you could feel the distance between you both stretching further. Trent turned away slightly, letting out a shaky breath, and when he looked back at you, it was with a resignation that made your heart sink. He was tired of fighting for something that felt so uncertain, tired of giving his all only to feel like he was coming up short. He was feeling out of control.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” you whispered, desperate to explain, but Trent only shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to face you. “T… it’s unfair to say I’m not in this.” You tried to explain. “I don’t understand how I’m meant to show you… or to act differently with you don’t give me the space to do it, when you don’t want it. You don’t want me,” you muttered, you jaw tight. As you continued stating your defense, your reality started to come to light. And it was in sharp contrast to his. “You hiding me like a secret in your bed isn’t being all in.” You tried to explain and he shook his head. He was annoyed that your comment landed and while he understood it but he wouldn’t concede. “I said I’m sorry about tonight but you also could’ve come up to me. You could take what you want… I’m here Trent. I’ve been here.” You hiccuped feeling a lump in your throat form. It felt like you were drawing closer to a stalemate. It made you sick. You could feel it all closing in, what the only resolution would be. “Right now, all I feel is like I’m the one risking everything while you’re here upset at me for following your rules? You pull back the second I want to spend time alone with you, the second the boys might find out but then complain when I’m not on my knees for you, when I’m not a total mess the second you walk in. Waiting.” Your voice broke, and the crack in it cut through you deeper than any argument ever had.

“Maybe… maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the words coming out with a sadness that felt almost unbearable. “Maybe we are nothing.” He threw the word back at you. You felt tears prickling in your eyes, but you couldn’t find the words to make him understand, to make yourself understood. The silence between you grew heavy, and he let out a strained laugh, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You know, I thought you were the one person I could let my guard down with,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you. “I thought you were different. I thought… I thought you felt the same.” Trent felt sick. 

“Trent, please…” you reached out, but he stepped away, running a hand over his face, visibly trying to steady himself. His gaze fell back on you, guarded and hurt, the vulnerability replaced by a distance that made your chest ache. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t keep feeling like this is all in my head. You’re… You’re fucking with me. You’re hurting me. I just wanted you to be there for me. Tonight, be there for me. Stop toying with me.” He snapped, he seemed to fall back into anger and it made you upset. Toying with you? Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly be serious. 

“I’m fucking with you?” You asked looking for some clarity, to get on the same page but instead everything was blank and all you felt was just anger. The same anger he was feeling. The emotion fell over you fast and hard. He wanted to be done.  If he could accept this. If he could end this… you were in fact like all the others. Disposable. “You want me to be there for you?” You quipped back. Voiced raised. “Everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you, some stupid little girl with a crush on her brother's friend, yeah? That’s what they all think.” You could hear the desperation laced in your tone, the edge of frustration threatening to spill over.  The argument erupted like a dam breaking, years of unspoken words and hidden emotions rushing to the surface all at once. You hadn’t planned for this moment to unfold like this. You hadn’t planned for it at all. But now, the words poured out before you could stop them. Trent’s head jerked back slightly as if the words physically hit him. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting you continue. “And for what? To be pied time and time again? To be hidden away like some dirty little secret?” Your voice broke, and the first tear escaped, but you refused to let yourself falter. “You put me behind closed doors, Trent. Because you’re afraid. So don’t you dare be mad at me for not being able to comfort you. You arranged this.” Trent’s eyes narrowed, his face a mix of hurt and disbelief. He stood rooted in place for a moment, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he was trying to hold himself back. But he couldn’t.

“Arrange this?” His voice rose, his tone sharp and biting. “You think this is my fault?” He stepped closer, his frame towering over you, the hurt evident in every line of his face. “You kissed me, Y/N. You. Don’t stand there and act like this whole thing—this mess—is all on me.” The memory of that moment—the kiss you’d dreamed of, the one you thought would change everything—now twisted into something ugly. His words were a slap in the face, and the tears came faster now, blurring your vision as you tried to steady your voice.

“Did you not want me to?” you asked, your tone quieter now but no less challenging. Trent opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, a chasm furthering between the two of you. He looked away, his chest heaving, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “Did you not want me to?” you demanded again, louder this time, your voice cracking under the strain. He still couldn’t answer. It was hard to put into words. There was a part of him that questioned if he had wanted you to in retrospect. Yes, he wanted to. He wanted to kiss you but if it meant getting to this place. He wasn’t so sure. You began to cry harder. His silence was deafening. And that was when the floodgates truly broke. “So if you didn’t want me to kiss you,” you said, your voice trembling but louder now, “then what is all this? Why drag me along? Why make me think there was something more?” Your chest heaved with every word, the pain of saying them cutting through you like a blade. “I’m not here for a season of yours, T,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I’ve been here your whole life. I’ve waited for you. I’ve waited for this. So you tell me, right now, do you just want the attention, or do you want me?” The kitchen fell silent, your words hanging in the air like a loaded weapon. Trent looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes wide and his expression unreadable. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but nothing came out. That silence—it wasn’t just awkward. It was unbearable. It was deafening. Finally, Trent exhaled, a long, shaky breath as he looked down, his hands flexing and curling at his sides. He felt like he was going to cry. He’d never made you cry until you started this whole thing and he wanted that back. 

“You’re not being fair,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no fight left in it. “You’re not being fair to me.” He looked at you honest and terrified. He could feel it all collapsing and there was no way to hold it up. 

“Fair?” you repeated, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. “Fair is the last thing this has ever been.” You quipped. Trent’s face twisted into something you’d never seen before—guilt, anger, heartbreak, all mixed into one. His hands moved to his head, dragging down his face in frustration. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away. You blinked, stunned, as you watched him head for the door, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped “Trent…” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t want to fight for this version of you anymore.The sound of the door shutting behind him was final, reverberating through the silence like a death knell. The weight of it all hit you at once, your legs buckling beneath you as you sank to the cold floor. Your hands shook as you wrapped them around yourself, the tears coming faster now, sobs wracking your chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Trent was supposed to be your safe space, your person. But now, the relationship you’d built together, the moments you’d shared, felt like they were slipping through your fingers, dissolving into nothing. And as you sat there on the cold kitchen floor, your heart shattered, the question lingered, echoing in the silence: Had you just lost him for good?

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 10 xx

[f1daydreamers]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re a tease, asking for things you supposedly already have. Trent catches on... eventually.

A/N: This is my first social media AU so bear with me if it absolutely sucks, also my first time writing for Trent so a bunch of firsts going on today. Enjoy!

Warnings: not much, just a lot of fluff and shite captions lol

...

yourusername | 📍Venice, Italy

tagged venice.explore and calvinklein

liked by yourbsf, calvinklein, and 17,786 others

yourusername can I call you later?

view all 2671 comments

user1 pretty ladyyyyyyy

calvinklein summer collection has never looked better 😍

— yourusername have never loved a black dress more

yourbsf photo creds and the second glass are all me.. right?

— yourusername ofc 😇

user2 omg i need to go to venice asap

user3 i thought you were in la this week for a photoshoot with hudabeauty??

— yourusername next week!! super excited omg 🩷

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, andyrobertson94, and 946,716 others

trentarnold66 Recharging 🔋

view all 76,936 comments

andyrobertson94 Right, there’s no need to flex the arms 😒

— trentarnold66 I was just bending them? ���

liverpoolfc Back at camp soon ❤️

— trentarnold66 💪

user6 BYE TRENT FINALLY POSTED HOLIDAY PICS SO I CAN SLEEP NOW

user7 can you choke me with those arms thanks bae

— user8 so real 🤣

judebellingham No invite lad? I see how it is 🫤

— liked by trentarnold66

…

yourusername

tagged hudabeauty, hudabeautyshop, and kayali

liked by hudabeauty, trentarnold66, and 30,651 others

yourusername Coming to you… July 👀

view all 9862 comments

yourbsf A DREAM IM SO PROUD OF YOU BABE

— yourusername i love you 🥹

user4 aaahhhhhhh this has been such a long time coming!!! remember ur youtube videos when u used to review their products?

— liked by trentarnold66

hudabeauty A literal real-life doll 😘

— yourusername says the literal makeup magician ❤️

user5 TRENT LIKED????

— user9 who’s that?

— user5 ONLY THE BEST RB IN THE WORLD WHAT

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, yourusername, and 976,816 others

trentarnold66 Singapore 🇸🇬 Feels real good to be back.

view all 126,625 comments

liverpoolfc What’s up, Vice Captain? 💪

— trentarnold66 🫡

user10 liverpool’s very own ❤️

yourusername damn.

— liked by trentarnold66

virgilvandijk Let’s get it!

user5 OMGGG THEYRE DEFO DATINGGG WAIT

user12 don’t know who yourusername is but she’s verified and trent liked her most recent post now she’s commented on his???? i smell a new couple 👀

…

yourusername | 📍 Liverpool

tagged liverpoolfc

liked by trentarnold66, harvelliott, and 29,872 others

yourusername bleeding red today, bleeding red everyday

view all 11,463 comments

user12 she does know trent’s mural is literally opposite hendo’s right? 🧐

— liked by yourusername

— user12 OMG SHE LIKED MY COMMENTTTT

harvelliott love it 🌹

— user5 DUDE WHO IS THIS GIRL DATING OMFHDJSJSE

trentarnold66 Hmm

— harvelliott 😂

yourbsf fit went hard.

— yourusername not everyone’s agreeing w u 😒

— yourbsf you mean….

— yourusername shh

…

…

trentarnold66

liked by judebellingham, liverpoolfc, and 817,625 others

trentarnold66 Skipper today but winning in front of you is the best part ❤️🏟️

view all 262,527 comments

user5 IS HE TALKING ABOUT YOURUSERNAME

— user13 bro you lot reach sm wtff he’s obviously talking about the fans lmao they played at home today

judebellingham serious player

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should I say congrats?

— trentarnold66 Only if you’ve changed shirts

— yourusername so take off yours then

— liked by trentarnold66

…

…

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, trentarnold66, and 96,726 others

yourusername my mom approves

view all 70,637 comments

user5 I CALLED IT FROM THE START YESSSSHDHDHSHSHHS YALL ARE SO CUTE

yourbsf ok trying to convince ppl that i’m the other one in ur pics is getting harder and harder to do

— yourusername 😂😂

trentarnold66 Shirt’s all yours

— yourusername took you long enough

— trentarnold66 I got there in the end 🙂

yoursister does that mean I get to keep Harvey's shirt now?

— yourusername i bet you've already taken it anyway

— yoursister if I speak I’m in big trouble

…

trentarnold66

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, andyrobertson94, and 1.2 million others

trentarnold66 Dear Darling ❤️

andyrobertson94 Congrats Brother 🫂

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should’ve posted the pic where you were preeing my old yt vids

— trentarnold66 I don’t recall that 🤨

— yourusername little liar

— trentarnold66 Little? Who’s the liar now?

— user12 YALL ARE SOOOOOOOO

user5 I WANT MY FINDERS FEE 👩‍⚖️

harvelliott Beautiful 🤩

…

Masterlist

[deartrent]

mum's emotions — taa

summary: pent-up emotions and frustrations as a first-time mom finally surface when you find yourself in the familiar arms of trent

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: my first ever post on here. didn't really come out the way i intended, idrk if i like it, but let me know what you guys think!!

what you felt was wrong. you knew it was wrong on so many levels. you couldn't help but feel the way you did though. seeing trent take care of your baby so naturally, as if he'd experienced being a father before, sparked something inside of you that you didn't know you were capable of feeling. you couldn't tell if it was anger, disappointment or jealousy. all you could think of was how come i carried that baby for 9 months, just to be the worst mother of all time?

trent noticed your frustrations. he could tell when he'd come home from training and you'd greet him coldly or shoot daggers when he'd steal the baby from you, the cries stopping as soon as he held her in his arms, so gently. you were never the type to verbalise your feelings and trent knew not to push you to that point either, but he also knew you were slowly reaching your limit. he wished he could stay home more often to help you out, to take some of the workload off of you, but his schedule didn't allow him to.

"look she smiled," trent turned your daughter to face you, unaware that you had been observing them for the past two minutes. their smiles resembled so much, something you had prayed for way before getting pregnant.

it took everything in you to fake a smile, masking the emptiness you felt inside. trent could sense your mind was racing, your silence speaking louder than words. his heart ached seeing you in this state, reminiscing on the bubbly version of you prior to giving birth.

"she can sense your emotions you know," trent spoke after getting no reaction from you, walking over to where you stood, with your daughter against his chest, "when mum's stressed, she will be too, i read it somewhere." you felt vulnerable as trent towered over you, trying his best to read your facial expressions. you hadn't been too verbal lately, with trent having to rely on body language. he had no clue the reason you hadn't been verbal was the inability to hold in tears whenever trent would try and have a conversation about anything baby related. instead of confiding in him, you chose to distance yourself.

you didn't know how much longer you could hold everything in though, and without a single warning, you felt your eyes well up, a burning sensation confirming that your tear-filled eyes had turned bloodshot red by now. trent was caught off guard, not knowing what to do next. this was the first time you'd shown a different emotion than anger and annoyance since the baby had arrived.

trent's first instinct was to put the baby down on the playmat, before engulfing you into an embrace you didn't realise you needed until your face sunk into trent's chest, the all too familiar scent and sense of warmth, comfort and security washing over you. you sobbed into his shirt, his large hands caressing your back as he tried soothing you.

"please talk to me babe, tell me what's on your mind," trent begged and for the first time since bringing your daughter home, you thought of trent, instead of yourself. you thought about how he must've felt, being a first time parent himself and having to deal with taking care of the baby on one hand, but on the other hand having to deal with an angry, irritated girlfriend, not knowing what exactly is going on because you simply did not communicate with him. you could only imagine how scary and lonely it must have been for him.

"i just need a break," you sobbed, barely audible but you knew if anyone would understand you, it would be trent. "i don't know what i'm doing, i don't know if i'm feeding her correctly, i don't know if i'm dressing her warm enough, all she does is cry and i have no idea what she wants. i'm just a shit mother, i wasn't made for this." you took the opportunity to dump all of your frustrations.

"stop, don't say that," trent pried you off of him to create a little distance as he held your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, "you're doing great, i promise. she's alive, she's healthy, that means you're doing a good job." trent tried reassuring you, your breath shaky from all the sobbing. "she's crying, because she senses your emotions," you melted into trent's hands, the eyes you were so in love with fixated on yours, making your surroundings disappear, "she just wants you to be happy, we both do." guilt was the next thing you felt.

you felt guilty because you'd left trent in the dark, taking your frustrations out on him, while all he wanted to do was help, "i'm so exhausted trent, i can't remember last time i slept a full night," you continued your rant, "i miss just cuddling with you and not be interrupted," you could see the corner of trent's lips turn upwards, igniting the same warm, fuzzy feeling you'd been feeling ever since the first day you'd met; the one thing that hadn't changed since the birth of your baby. trent placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, before placing your head on his chest once more, "you know, i have a day off tomorrow, i can ask my mum to babysit and we could just stay in bed all day," trent suggested, earning a chuckle from you.

you could feel trent's heart beat against your temple and as you further sunk into his arms, you realised just how blessed you really were. you couldn't imagine having a baby with anyone other than trent, the idea of building a family with him easing your mind. he was everything you wanted and from the moment you told him you were pregnant, you knew that you and your baby were in safe hands. and that was all that mattered.

"i would love that," you looked up, pressing your lips to his luscious ones in a kiss you didn't know you craved.

[jude5bellingham]

imsg ౨ৎ trent alexander-arnold

[srngrque]

kiss and make-up.

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. slightly suggestive, fluff. makeup and just a very horny trent.

Trent had a room that could have possibly fit fifteen people or more, but he had decided to put his bed at the edge of the corner. While the other furniture a room needed was rather scattered around the room. He went for the vibes, instead of being structural about his room.

But that was good for you. As his bed is at the edge of his room, proving that you can simply cage him between the wall and your hand pressed against it. Not letting him escape from the mission you were on, today.

"You do know that I can push you off and you will go flying?" He nonchalantly asked with his arms crossed on his chest, showing off his muscular arms. You nodded, not fazed by him and his words. Trent sighed, your heart almost jumped at the victory that was about to walk your way.

Trent sighed loudly, shaking his head. "Why are you even doing this? We can do way more interesting things together." He argued, placing his hand on the side of your hips to distract you from your actual plan.

He glanced at you through his long eyelashes. Oh, he was on a mission. You shut your eyes refusing to be lured by his doe eyes that almost had you cooing, "Your mind is more disgusting and disturbing than mine." You stated, shaking your head with a disapproved sound.

He chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "If you are thinking what I am thinking. Then, baby, we are the same." He leaned forward, pressing his lips on yours continuously. Your steady cage was loosening up, and your hand gripped his neck for more friction to feel him on you.

His hands immediately grabbed your thighs to move you on his lap. His kiss was too addicting, it was almost everything you craved for. The way his lips moved on yours, the soft moan that slipped from his lips, and how his gaze had settled on you. His hand roamed around your body freely but he had every inch of your body memorized.

You moaned against his lips with your hips rolling back and forth. Wanting more of him, but as irresistible as he is, you were on a mission. "Trent, I am planning on making you look extremely pretty right now." You mumbled onto his lips, pulling away from him, only for him to groan and shake his head.

"It will not even take half an hour, and it will be more fun." You said, getting off from his bed. You walked toward the vanity table to get your things. "Seriously who gave you this stupid idea?" He screamed into his pillow, not wanting to do it.

This is a fun activity, you assured yourself. With full random products in your bag, you pulled Trent upward, he gently tapped on his lap. You sighed, straddled on his lap. You comfortably sat since it was a daily occurrence. He softly smiled, resting his forehead on your chest.

"How can I apply this eyeliner if your face is on my tits?" You asked, raising your eyebrows in the most genuine voice possible. He removed himself from your chest to face upward at you, Then, it felt like the beginning of your relationship all over again. Vividly remembering his long focused gaze that kept you nervous not being about to look into his eyes, only for him to fuck the small bits of nervousness out of you.

("Baby, hey—" He gently tapped your cheek, "Look at me, hey." He pleaded again. You are a weak human and he has ruined you in unexplainable ways. Yet you were not able to look into his eyes before folding all over for a man, your leg would almost give out when Trent kept his eyes on you for too long as your mind wondered questionable things.

With his soft voice, you opened your eyes to glance at the softest lust-filled eyes with almost bruised lips that was all you doing to him. "Good girl." He pecked your lips, picking up his pace on thrusting into you harder.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slamming onto each other, and the sound of your wetness between your thighs being clear at every thrust. Trent had spent time exploring your fucked out face, while you tried to hold in every whimper and keeping your eyes on the man who has you completely in his palm.

"Don't hold back, baby. Want you to touch me, want you to look at me. Want you to make me yours." He whispered, peppering kisses all over your face.

You were fucked.)

But you were not going to lie, Trent still made your stomach twirl, your eyes roll and your heart pace in ways that were not verbal enough to explain. He just had an affect on your body and soul.

You inhaled, "Close your eyes, baby." You guided and he obeyed. With shaking hands, you applied the eyeliner to his eyes gently winging at the side of his eyes.

Trent had his hand circling your waist and it was your time to silently admire without any gaze around you. His small unintentional pout that is formed and the confused furrowed eyebrows were not hard to miss since Trent is more nosy than any boys out there.

"Funny enough, you look prettier than me." You laughed, kissing his cheeks. He shook his head, not accepting what was happening to him. Trent had been sitting patiently, this is the most patient you have seen him.

He blinked his eyes, you groaned grabbing your hair frustrated. Innocently he blinked again, acting all sinless on not knowing what he did wrong. But you knew, he knew what he did wrong. The eyeliner was yet to dry and Trent ruined the perfect wing.

"You are ruining this for me." You scolded him. Leaning toward your makeup bag to find wet wipes to clean the mess he created on his skin. Trent had other plans as he playfully left kisses on your neck trailing down your chest.

He felt your shoulder move, he realized you were not pulling away nor complaining. So, he lightly pushed his hand under your shirt; trying to take it off from your skin.

"You are a menace, you know?" You asked, wiping off the messed-up eyeliner on his face. Trent silently sat through all that as his eyes scanned your flushed red cheek, eyes too focused on his eyebrows that shifted to his lips and your teeth nibbling your bottom lip.

He smirked, smashing his lips in yours. Slowly setting you down on the bed as he caged you with his body. "Lift your arms." He asked.

You lifted your arms high as he peeled off your shirt trashing on the ground. His eyes gazing at the hickeys he had left on you slowly faded into yellowish and some still were angry-red.

"You really listen to me when you want something from me." He rested his head on the nape of your neck, his hand fondling onto the zipper of your skirt. You hissed at the sudden contact of wetness on your neck immediately latching onto his shoulder to feel him.

Trent breathed heavily as he sucked your soft skin again and again to leave marks to show what he can do to your skin, only him. He briefly glanced at you and your eyes were shut feeling the pleasure building between the hips and the pain on your neck.

He pulled, cupping both of your cheek with his thumb and index finger. "Look at me, baby. Look at me while I am all over your body."

[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

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count —5k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving or staying. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i’ve been so excited for this series! i’m so happy to finally post it

masterlist

trent walked through the front door, the usual warmth of their home replaced by an unsettling chill. the house was too quiet, a stark contrast to the life it once held. the silence only made the tension between them more palpable, like a storm that had been brewing for weeks.

he dropped his gym bag in the hallway and glanced towards the kitchen, where y/n stood with her back to him. she was moving slowly, almost mechanically, and didn’t turn to greet him like she used to. the knot in his stomach tightened as he noticed how withdrawn she seemed.

“hey,” he called out, his voice lacking the warmth it once held. “how was your day?”

she didn’t answer right away, her hands stilling on the counter. “it was... okay,” she finally replied, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear her.

“hey,” he called out, his voice tired, lacking the warmth it used to carry. “how was your day?”

she paused, her hands stilling. “it was... okay,” she replied softly, not turning to face him.

he walked over, leaning against the counter opposite her. “you’ve been crying,” he observed, his tone accusatory without meaning to be.

y/n stiffened at his words, her heart racing. she had been crying, but for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand. she had spent hours that afternoon staring at the positive pregnancy test, her mind a whirl of emotions—fear, uncertainty, but also a small glimmer of hope. she thought about how to tell him, how to make him see that this wasn’t just a mistake or a burden, but something they could embrace together. but now, looking at his weary face, she wasn’t so sure.

“we need to talk,” she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay calm.

trent’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and defensiveness flaring up inside him. “about what?” he asked, his tone clipped.

she took a deep breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter. “i’m pregnant.”

the words hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. trent’s reaction was immediate—his eyes widened in shock, and then his expression hardened, a mix of confusion and anger twisting his features. “what? how is that even possible? we’ve always been careful.”

y/n felt the sting of his words, her heart breaking a little more with each passing second. she had expected shock, maybe even fear, but the coldness in his voice cut deep. “i don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “but it happened.”

trent ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the kitchen. “this... this can’t be happening,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “we’re not ready for this. i’m not ready for this.”

“we can figure it out together,” y/n tried, desperation creeping into her voice. “we’ve always figured things out together.”

he stopped in his tracks, turning to face her with an expression that sent chills down her spine. "did you forget to take your pill or something? is this some sort of trap?" the accusation was like a slap to the face, and y/n recoiled as if physically struck.

“how can you say that to me?” she choked out, tears welling up in her eyes. “do you really think i would do something like that to you?”

the weight of his accusation settled on her chest like a boulder, crushing her beneath its unforgiving mass. it wasn’t just the words—it was the disbelief, the mistrust, the implication that she could be so calculating, so cruel. the thought that he could even entertain such an idea ripped through her, leaving her raw and exposed. this was the man she had given everything to, the one she had loved unconditionally, and yet, here he was, questioning her integrity, her love.

every tear that welled up in her eyes was a testament to the betrayal she felt, each drop a piece of her heart that had been shattered by his words. she could barely recognize the person standing in front of her, the person who had once vowed to trust her, to stand by her no matter what. his assumption felt like a knife twisting in her gut, the pain of it almost too much to bear.

trent didn’t answer immediately, his mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. the pressure of the season, the constant scrutiny from the media, the weight of expectations—it all came crashing down on him, and he felt like he was drowning. "i don’t know, y/n,'"he finally said, his voice cold. "i don’t know what to think right now. this is... this is too much."

y/n’s anger flared, her hurt turning into something sharper. “so what, you want me to just get rid of our child?” she spat out, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

trent’s eyes flashed with something dark, something she hadn’t seen before. “maybe we should consider it,” he said harshly. “we’re not ready for a kid, y/n. we’re barely managing as it is.”

y/n’s heart plummeted at his words, the world around her narrowing to the crushing reality of what he was suggesting. every breath she took felt labored, as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her gasping for something solid to hold onto. “barely managing”. the words echoed in her mind, slicing through her like a cold blade. had their love really come to this? to the point where the idea of their child—their child—was something to be feared, something to be discarded?

the ground beneath her feet felt unstable, like it could give way at any moment, sending her tumbling into an abyss of despair. she had always thought of trent as her safe place, the one person who would stand by her no matter what. but now, as she looked at him, she realized that the man standing before her was a stranger—someone capable of suggesting something so unthinkable.

“'i can’t believe you’re saying this,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to keep herself from falling apart completely. “this is our child, trent. how can you be so heartless?”

“heartless? or realistic?” trent shot back, his voice rising in frustration. “we have plans, y/n. dreams. a baby wasn’t part of them—not now.”

the words stung like a fresh wound, and y/n could feel herself spiraling. “why is it always on me?”, she demanded, her voice sharp, filled with hurt. “why is it my responsibility to make sure we're careful? you haven’t used a condom in years, trent. you just assumed i’d handle it, like it’s only my problem.”

trent’s face hardened, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “we were both in this, y/n. don’t try to make it sound like—“

“your convenience, trent,” she interrupted, her voice trembling with rage.”'it was always for your convenience. you wanted me on the pill because it was easier for you, and now you want to blame me for this?”'

the truth in her words cut deep, and trent struggled to find a response. “it’s not about blame,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less tense. “i just… this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this.”

“'and what if it’s never the right time?” she demanded, her tears blurring her vision. “'what if we keep waiting and waiting, and it never happens because we’re too busy being ‘realistic’?”

trent looked at her, his heart heavy with regret and confusion. he could see the pain in her eyes, the devastation in her words, and it made him feel like he was losing her—losing everything. but instead of pulling her closer, he felt like he was pushing her further away with every word

“y/n…” he began, his voice softening, but she cut him off, her voice choked with emotion.”'if you can’t see that this is a blessing, then maybe you’re right. maybe we’re not ready.”

trent’s chest tightened as the words hung in the air, suffocating him. he knew he had made a terrible mistake, but he didn’t know how to fix it. the fear and doubt that had driven him to say those awful things still clung to him, but now they were joined by a deep, gnawing guilt. "y/n," he whispered, his voice barely audible, “i’m so sorry. i’m scared and i don’t know what i’m doing.” but she didn’t turn back, didn’t acknowledge his words. she just kept walking, leaving him standing there, drowning in the consequences of his own actions.

desperation clawed at his throat as he watched her retreating form, and suddenly it all came crashing down on him—the weight of his insecurities, the overwhelming pressure he felt, the fear of failing her and their future. but none of that mattered if he couldn’t fix this.

"you think i do?” y/n shot back, her voice cracking as her tears flowed freely now. she spun around, her eyes ablaze with emotion, each tear a reflection of the pain she was carrying. “i’m terrified, trent. but i thought... i thought we could face this together. i thought you wanted us to face this together. but all you’ve done is make me feel alone. unwanted.”

trent’s heart sank at her words, the guilt tightening its grip around him. he stepped forward instinctively, his hands trembling as he reached out toward her, desperate to make her stay, to say anything that could take back what he’d done. “y/n, please,” he begged, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. “i didn’t mean it. i’m just... i’m overwhelmed. i love you. i want to be with you. i want us. please don’t leave.”

but y/n shook her head, her face hardened by the pain he had caused, her tears still glistening in the dim light. “i’m leaving,” she said, her voice steely despite the way it trembled. “i never want our child to feel this... this unwanted. the way you made me feel tonight. i can’t stay here, trent. not after this.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut. unwanted. the very thing he feared—the thing that had eaten away at him for months—was now the very thing he had made her feel. and it broke him. his knees felt weak, his mind raced for something to say, something to do, but nothing felt right. nothing would change the fact that she was walking ou

trent stepped towards her, his hands reaching out in a desperate attempt to fix what he had broken. “y/n, please,” he begged, his voice hoarse. “i didn’t mean it. i’m just... i’m overwhelmed. i love you. i want to be with you. please don’t leave.”

but y/n shook her head, her resolve hardening with each passing second. “i never want our child to feel this... this unwanted. the way you made me feel tonight. i can’t stay here, trent. not after this.” she said, her voice steely despite the tears.

“y/n, please, don’t do this,” trent’s voice cracked, his heart breaking as he watched her move toward the bedroom. he followed her, his panic rising with every step. “don’t go, baby, please. we can figure this out, i promise. i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“i can’t do this anymore, trent,” y/n cried, yanking open the closet door and pulling out a suitcase. her hands shook as she grabbed clothes, shoving them inside with little care. “i thought i could, but i can’t. i can’t raise a child with someone who doesn’t want them.”

trent felt the words like daggers to his heart. he tried to reach for her again, his hands trembling as he touched her arm. “i didn’t mean it,” he whispered, his voice cracking with desperation. “please, y/n. i love you. don’t leave me.”

she pulled away from him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “if you loved me, you wouldn’t have said those things,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “you wouldn’t have hurt me like this.”

trent’s knees almost buckled at her words. “i’m so sorry,” he whispered, his eyes glistening with tears he was too proud to let fall. “please, baby. i’ll do anything. just don’t leave.”

but y/n had already made up her mind. she zipped up the suitcase and grabbed it, brushing past him as she headed for the door. trent stood frozen, his heart shattered, watching the love of his life walk out of their home.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, but it was too late. the front door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty house.

trent sank to the floor, his mind reeling with regret and sorrow. he had pushed away the one person he loved more than anything, and now, he didn’t know if he would ever get her back.

y/n gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she replayed trent’s words in her mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. the quiet hum of the car did nothing to drown out the echo of his voice—harsh, unyielding, and completely unlike the man she thought she knew. her heart felt heavy, burdened by the weight of the hurt he’d inflicted on her.

“maybe we should consider it.”

the words rang in her ears, over and over, as if they were etched into her mind. he’d spoken about their child as if it was nothing more than an inconvenience, something to be dealt with rather than cherished. the man who once promised her the world, who had knelt before her with a ring and vowed to love her through anything, was now the same man who had suggested they rid themselves of the very future they had created together.

she wiped at her eyes, her vision blurred by tears she couldn’t seem to stop. how had it come to this? how had they gone from dreaming of a life together to this—a chasm so wide between them that she couldn’t see a way to bridge it? the ring on her finger felt heavier now, a cold reminder of promises that suddenly felt so fragile.

the miles between cheshire and london stretched out before her, but she barely noticed the distance. she needed her mum—needed the comfort of home, the warmth of arms that had always been there to catch her when she fell. she didn’t know what else to do, where else to go. all she knew was that she couldn’t stay there, in that house filled with memories now tainted by the cruel words trent had thrown at her.

as she pulled into her parents’ driveway, the familiar sight of her childhood home brought a fresh wave of tears. the house was dark, the neighborhood quiet, the world seemingly asleep while hers was falling apart. she sat there for a moment, the engine ticking as it cooled, trying to gather the strength to move.

finally, she climbed out of the car, her legs trembling as she walked up the steps. she hesitated for a moment before knocking, her hand shaking. it was late—too late to be arriving unannounced—but she had nowhere else to go.

the door opened slowly, and there stood her mum, her face etched with concern as she took in the sight of y/n standing there, tears streaming down her face. “y/n?” she whispered, her voice thick with worry.

at the sound of her mum’s voice, the dam broke. y/n let out a sob, her knees buckling as she fell into her mother’s arms. “mum,” she cried, her voice muffled against her shoulder. “i... i don’t know what to do.”

her mum wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the world. “oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her own eyes filling with tears. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

they stood there in the doorway, y/n’s sobs filling the quiet night air, until finally her mum guided her inside. the warmth of the house was a stark contrast to the coldness she felt inside, but it did little to ease the ache in her chest.

they settled in the kitchen, the familiar comfort of the space doing little to soothe y/n’s heartache. her mum moved around the kitchen, making tea like she always did when things were bad. it was something she’d done since y/n was little—a small gesture, but one that made the world feel a little less chaotic.

as they sat down at the table, y/n finally spoke, her voice trembling. “he said we should consider getting rid of the baby,” she whispered, her eyes staring blankly at the cup in her hands. “he actually said that, mum.”

her mum’s eyes softened with sadness, but she didn’t interrupt, letting y/n get it all out. “he said we’re not ready, that this wasn’t part of our plans. but... but we’re supposed to be a team. we’re supposed to face things together, not like this. how could he say something so cruel? how could he suggest...”

her voice broke, and she couldn’t finish the sentence, the words too painful to speak.

her mum reached across the table, taking y/n’s hand in hers. “oh, my love,” she said gently, her voice filled with compassion. “i can’t imagine how much that hurt you, hearing him say those things. but you know trent loves you. he’s been part of our family for years now, and i’ve seen how much he cares for you. whatever he said, it wasn’t out of malice. he’s scared, y/n. this is big, and it’s sudden, and he’s probably overwhelmed.”

y/n looked up at her, tears spilling over her cheeks. “but he doesn’t talk to me, mum. he keeps everything inside, and when he does talk, it’s like... like he’s a different person. i don’t know how to reach him anymore.”

her mum sighed, her thumb gently rubbing over y/n’s knuckles. “men can be like that sometimes. they think they have to bear the weight of the world on their shoulders, and they forget that they don’t have to do it alone. he’s probably trying to figure it all out in his head, and in the process, he’s pushing you away. it doesn’t make what he said right, but it might help to understand where he’s coming from.”

y/n shook her head, her heart still heavy with the pain of his words. “i don’t know if i can forgive him for this, mum. i don’t know if i can forget the way he made me feel—like this baby, our baby, was a mistake.”

her mum’s eyes filled with sympathy, but also with a quiet strength. “you don’t have to make any decisions right now, sweetheart. you’re allowed to be hurt, and you’re allowed to take your time to figure out what you want. just know that whatever you decide, i’m here for you. we all are.”

y/n nodded, the weight of her mum’s words settling into her heart. the road ahead was uncertain, and she knew it wouldn’t be easy. but in that moment, wrapped in her mother’s warmth and understanding, she felt just a little bit stronger.

the next morning, y/n woke up feeling like a shell of herself, her body moving through the motions as if on autopilot. the room was dim, the early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the walls. she blinked slowly, her eyes swollen and puffy from the tears she had cried into her mother’s arms and later into her pillow. the reality of the situation hit her like a tidal wave—she was pregnant, and trent, the man she loved more than anything, had reacted in the worst way possible.

she placed a hand on her stomach, the realization sinking in that there was a life growing inside her. her fingers trembled as she gently pressed against her abdomen, a quiet, almost inaudible whisper escaping her lips. “it’s just you and me now, little one,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “we’re going to be okay... i promise.”

but the words felt fragile, like they could shatter at any moment, just like the life she had envisioned with trent. a wave of nausea suddenly washed over her, pulling her from her thoughts. she barely made it to the bathroom before she was sick, her body heaving as she emptied what little was in her stomach.

after rinsing her mouth and splashing water on her face, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. she had to keep it together, at least for now. with shaky hands, she got dressed, pulling on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater that did nothing to hide the slight bump she now knew was there.

when she finally made her way downstairs, the smell of breakfast filled the air—eggs, bacon, and freshly baked bread. her mum was already in the kitchen, moving around with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a million times before. the sight of her mother’s familiar, comforting figure brought a fresh wave of tears to y/n’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, not wanting to break down again.

her mum turned and smiled softly at her, her eyes full of love and understanding. “good morning, sweetheart. i made breakfast for you. you need to eat well now that you’re carrying my grandchild.”

y/n managed a small, grateful smile, her heart swelling with the love and care her mum was showing her. she sat down at the kitchen table, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the past 24 hours pressing heavily on her shoulders.

as she picked at her food, her mum sat down across from her, the quiet between them filled with a deep, unspoken understanding. “you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” her mum said gently, reaching out to place a hand over y/n’s. “but just know that i’m here for you, every step of the way.”

y/n nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “i know, mum. thank you.” her voice was barely above a whisper, the words coming out strained. she wanted to say more, to pour out all the fear and uncertainty swirling inside her, but she couldn’t find the strength.

as y/n sat at the kitchen table, her mind still heavy with the events of the previous night, her mum took a deep breath, her voice gentle yet firm. “i booked an appointment with your ob-gyn for later today, just to see how far along you are and make sure everything’s okay.”

y/n’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks as she shook her head. “i don’t want to do it without him,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “i can’t... i don’t want to go through this alone.”

her mum immediately pulled her into a comforting embrace, stroking her hair as she whispered soothing words. “you won’t have to, sweetheart. he’s just going through a rough time right now, but he loves you. you’re his whole world, y/n, and he’s going to come around. you’ll see.”

y/n clung to her mother, her heart aching with a mix of fear and longing. she wanted to believe her mum’s words, to hold on to the hope that trent would be there for her and their baby. but the uncertainty gnawed at her, and all she could do was cry, letting the tears wash over her as her mum held her tight.

when they pulled apart y/n sat quietly at the kitchen table, her fingers tracing the edge of her mug as she tried to collect her thoughts. her mum was bustling around, preparing breakfast, casting worried glances her way every few minutes. y/n’s face was still puffy from all the crying she did, both in her mother’s arms the night before and later alone in bed. her mind was a storm of emotions—fear, sadness, love, and the overwhelming realization that a baby was growing inside her.

as she stirred her tea absently, she found herself speaking softly, almost to herself. “i just can’t believe this is happening... there’s a baby inside me,” she thought, placing a tentative hand on her stomach. “i’m going to be a mum.”

a few moments later, the sound of laughter and playful banter echoed from the front door, growing louder as her dad and malik entered the house, fresh from their morning paddle game. y/n’s heart clenched at the sound, the familiarity of it all feeling like a balm to her aching soul.

her dad was the first to spot her, and his face lit up with a warm, loving smile. “there’s my babygirl,” he said, walking over to her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling her into a tight embrace. “what brings you here so early? not that i’m complaining.”

y/n couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. she clung to her dad, her body shaking as the sobs broke free. “i’m pregnant, dad,” she choked out, her voice cracking with emotion.

there was a moment of stunned silence, and then her dad’s arms tightened around her, holding her as if he could shield her from all the pain in the world. “oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “that’s wonderful news. you’re going to be an amazing mum.”

malik, who had been standing off to the side, rushed over and wrapped his arms around both of them, his voice full of excitement. “are you serious? i’m going to be an uncle? this is the best news ever!”

y/n couldn’t help but smile through her tears, the love and support from her family filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt since the night before. but then her dad pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. “why are you crying, love? what happened?”

y/n wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself. “trent didn’t take it well... he said some things... hurtful things.” her voice broke again, and she shook her head, the memory of the fight replaying in her mind like a nightmare.

her dad’s expression softened, and he gently cupped her face in his hands. “he loves you, y/n. i know he does. he’s probably just scared, like you are. but he’ll come around, I promise. he’s a good man, and he loves you more than anything.”

malik nodded in agreement, his voice full of conviction. “yeah, sis. and until he does, you’ve got me. my niece or nephew is going to have the best uncle in the world, i swear.”

y/n let out a shaky breath, the love from her family seeping into the cracks that trent’s words had left in her heart. for a moment, she allowed herself to believe that everything would be okay, that they would figure this out, just like they always had. but as the morning wore on and the reality of her situation settled back in, the doubts and fears crept in once more.

her future felt uncertain, and the thought of facing it without trent by her side was almost too much to bear. but as she sat there, surrounded by the love and warmth of her family, she knew one thing for sure—she wasn’t alone. and no matter what happened next, she would find a way to make it through. for herself, and for the little life growing inside her.

trent sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, as the events of the past few days played on an endless loop in his mind. no matter how much he tried to push it away, the memory of y/n’s tear-streaked face and the pain in her eyes haunted him. the weight of his words pressed down on his chest, suffocating him with regret.

he was lost, unable to focus on anything else. training sessions passed by in a blur, his body moving on autopilot while his mind remained trapped in the past. every time he closed his eyes, he saw her walking away, heard the echo of the door closing behind her, and felt the emptiness she left in her wake.

it was unbearable. he had to do something—anything—to make things right. but every time he thought of reaching out, the fear of her rejection, of having lost her for good, paralyzed him.

and then, as he was sitting there in the quiet of his room, a memory surfaced, clear and vivid, breaking through the fog of his despair.

it was the night after he proposed. they were in bed, their bodies tangled together under the sheets, the room filled with the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. trent’s fingers traced delicate patterns on y/n’s bare back as she rested her head on his chest, their breathing in sync.

“husband,” she murmured, her voice a breathy whisper against his skin. “trent alexander-arnold, my husband.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her cheek. “and you, mrs. y/n alexander-arnold,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth. “how does that sound?”

she lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his, and a playful smile danced on her lips. “it sounds perfect,” she whispered, leaning in to brush her lips against his. “i can’t wait to be your wife.”

their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, filled with the promise of forever. trent’s hand moved up to cradle her face, deepening the kiss as his other hand trailed down her spine, pulling her closer. y/n sighed into the kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair, tugging gently as their passion ignited.

“i love you,” he murmured against her lips before trailing kisses down her jawline to her neck, making her gasp softly. “i’m so lucky to have you.”

"i love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck. "always.”

his lips continued their path down her neck, leaving a trail of warmth that made her shiver with anticipation. “for the rest of my life,” he echoed, his voice husky as he pulled her back into another deep, lingering kiss, sealing their promise to each other in the quiet intimacy of the night.

trent felt his heart clench at the memory. how had they gone from that pure, unfiltered joy to this unbearable pain?

with trembling hands, he reached for his phone and opened their message thread. he had sent her countless texts since she left, each one more desperate than the last, but there had been no response. still, he couldn’t stop himself from typing another message, hoping against hope that she would read it.

i’m so sorry, baby. i never meant to hurt you. i love you. please don’t go. i am lost without you. please come home.

on the other side, y/n sat alone in her childhood bedroom, the weight of trent’s messages heavy in her hands. tears streamed down her face, each message a cruel reminder of the love that felt so distant now. her heart ached with every word, longing to reach out, to tell him how much she missed him, how her love for him hadn't wavered.

but every glance at her growing belly brought back the sting of his harsh words, the flicker of doubt in his eyes. she felt the unbearable contrast between the life inside her—so precious, so innocent—and the emptiness left by his rejection. his promises and the dreams they shared now seemed like distant echoes.

clutching her stomach, she cried uncontrollably, the pain of his absence intertwining with the fear of a future that seemed impossibly uncertain. she was caught between the love that still held her heart captive and the overwhelming dread that they might never overcome the chasm between them.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Everywhere I go leads me back to you

Summary: Two lovers with two different lives and there’s never ending arguments. Y/n asks herself if the relationship is worth saving. What happens when the two lovers paths starts to collide and goes the other direction?

Angst & Fluff

Note: Let me know your thoughts! <3

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You sat in the car, hands on the steering wheel and you stared at your engagement ring on your finger. You thought about how it was two years ago when you didn’t study, and were home all the time, always available for Trent. But he was not always available for you. You would travel to watch him play at Anfield and when he was playing away games, but nowadays you have to study really hard if you want to make it.

Then he proposed of course, you two were so madly in love. However, what happens when two lovers paths starts to collide and goes the other direction?

You and Trent hasn’t been able to catch up with each other for a while, and you miss him. You get sad when you think about it and sometimes you wish it could be how it was before you started studying.

You parked your car and noticed that Trent’s car also was parked, which was strange because you knew he had a game tonight.

You exited your car and then unlocked your door. You smelled that someone was cooking, that someone was Trent.

“Hello” You said and walked in the kitchen where Trent stood cooking.

“Hey love, you hungry?” He answered and smiled at you.

“Yeah, a little” You simply answered and Trent lead you to the dinner table where he had lit up candles for the dinner.

“Sit down the food’s almost ready” He soothed and kissed your forehead.

You were surprised but also happy that he did this with so much effort because of the little time you spend together these days.

”Wow T, I’m actually impressed” You praised as you started to eat, once again surprised by him.

He smiled in response as he joined you at the table. It almost felt surreal seeing Trent sitting in front of you, you finally got to get lost in his brown eyes again. Oh how you have missed looking into his eyes. In the middle of your admiration you remembered to ask him why he was home and not travelling to the game.

“Are you not playing tonight?” You asked and took a sip of your water and watched his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/n the game is tomorrow” He confirmed and you put your glass down, almost in shock.

“Oh, I thought it was tonight” You nervously chuckled, and couldn’t believe how you could get it so wrong. Trent wasn’t bothered but you were. You realised how tired you really are from focusing on uni all the time.

“Well, it’s not easy for you to know babe” Trent comforted and grabbed your hand gently and drew small circles on your palm.

“What time are you leaving in the morning?” You implored, knowing that you’d probably won’t see each other for a few days so you wanted to be awake when he leaves, which means you have to sacrifice some hours of sleep. But you wanted to everything for him.

“I’ll leave at 7 ish” Trent answered and an idea popped up in his head.

“Want to come with me?” He added as you immediately panicked inside.

“Where to?” You wondered.

“We’re playing in the Europa League, Toulouse” He asserted and you scratched the back of your neck, something you always do when you’re anxious.

“I can’t, I have to study” You stated and watched his reaction, he wasn’t happy.

“Come on Y/n, can’t you study anywhere?” He pleaded and you knew that this was getting out of hands.

“You mean anywhere you are?” You sighed as you went to put your plate in the dishwasher.

“Please don’t be like that Y/n” Trent tutted and came up to you, giving you that look of disappointment.

“I really need to give it everything if I’m gonna make it Trent” You said and looked at him, and Trent of all people would know the sacrifices that has to be made if you want to make it.

“I understand, just wished that it would be like old times” He mumbled and sat down by the couch as you followed after him.

“Trent you’re saying that you miss when I was a failure, sitting on this couch all day waiting for you to come home and put a ring on my finger?” You snapped. Perhaps it was too much however, you couldn’t stand being in this position in the relationship any longer.

“Y/n, that’s not what I said” Trent said and scoffed as tears started forming in your eyes.

“It’s not about that it is that you don’t want me to have a life separate from yours! I can’t be available all the time Trent” You went on and Trent sat there and reminded himself that you also have a life that doesn’t revolve him.

“What about us then?” Trent spoke up and more tears streamed down your face and you shot a look at your engagement ring.

“I don’t anymore, I gave up something to be at uni and you should know what that’s like because your football is all that matters and all you have time for nowadays Trent” You defended and suddenly you felt your phone buzzing. You looked at Trent with a tear leaving your eye and went upstairs to answer the call.

Trent slammed the coffee table and started crying. Somewhere he felt that this was going to end and he couldn’t control it.

-

You sat in your shared bed studying, you didn’t have the energy to sit at your desk working. Trent packed his bag for tomorrow and the both of you haven’t spoken since a few hours ago. The silence was too much for you to handle so you sat with your airpods on full volume. You didn’t even know how much the clock was until you heard Trent turning the lights off downstairs.

You got up from the bed and put your books on your desk and then went to the bathroom. You brushed you teeth and you were lost in your thoughts and your music was still playing in your ears, you didn’t even notice Trent standing beside you brushing his teeth as well.

When you were done you looked over at him and saw that he was watching you too, you had to fight the urge to not hug him and absolutely sob into his chest. But Trent already knew how you felt and walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you. Although this time it wasn’t you who cried, it was Trent.

“Shh, it’ll be alright” You whispered and rubbed his back.

“You make it so difficult sometimes” Trent sniffled and let go of you. You were left in the bathroom struck with a such strong feeling of emptiness after he left.

You both sat at the edge of the bed, wishing some things were better left unsaid.

“Y/n” Trent called.

“Y/n” Trent called again.

“I heard you the first time” You taunted.

“We promised each other not to go to sleep angry” He said and you pulled the duvet over yourself preparing to sleep knowing it will take a while to fall asleep.

“Well, I guess some promises are made to be broken” You ended and turned of your bedside lamp.

–

Everything changed after that night. Trent came home after a loss against Toulouse, you wanted to comfort him the moment he stepped through the door. Trent was angry, he always was after a loss but this time it was different because of the situation between the two of you.

You two spoke a few times during the day but it was just small talks and it killed you.

It got more worse later in the day when you were preparing to sleep, Trent would start and argument and then it turned to not saying goodnight to each other anymore. Which you both always did before going to sleep despite an argument.

Now, you stopped saying goodnight and Trent stopped sleeping.

It was like torture to sleep next to him, every minute you thought about to whether sleep in the guest room or go downstairs to the kitchen to grab something to eat. You could hear Trent sighing and toss and turn, eventually he couldn’t take it anymore.

Trent got up from the bed and left your shared bedroom and closed the door quietly as he thought you were asleep.

You wanted to go after him, so you also left the bedroom. You heard noise from downstairs and you figured it was the tv, slowly walking down the stairs you could see him sitting in the couch, watching football highlights from the night.

You sat down, not too close to him but not so far away either. You watched the tv and the highlights showed a stunning goal which made Trent turn to you and say “What a goal that” He said and really you couldn’t believe him. Silence between the both of you for about three days and that’s the first thing he says to break the silence.

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes met and Trent’s lips curled into a small smile.

The whole situation was sentimental, and it was because the both of you knew. You two couldn’t work it out, no matter how hard you tried. The both of you live completely different lives, with different schedules. The only thing you could go back to was that you two have so much love for one another, and that’s what will always unite you and Trent in the end. But it has been this way for too long.

You looked at Trent and caressed his face, and you gave him a look that says everything he needs to know.

“At least we tried” You said, almost in a whisper and looked at your ring. It was filled with memories, and as you took it off it felt like your heart shattered. Tears streamed down your face as you handed Trent the ring. His hands were shaking as he received it, holding the ring that he thought would be stuck on your finger forever.

“Give it to someone who really deserves it T” You cried and he sniffed, looking at you with eyes filled with tears.

“But I only love you Y/n” He mumbled.

Trent thought that his biggest mistake of his life may be letting you go, letting you slip through his fingers just like that…

Two years later

You sat tense, waiting for the final whistle. They were almost crowned European champions. You were so proud of the team that they made it this far in the competition.

“Any minute now!” You exclaimed to your best friend beside you.

They won.

You celebrated with your friends and watched all the players run onto the pitch to their teammates who played the match. You could cry of happiness.

You watched Liverpool lift the trophy, fireworks and confetti were everywhere in the air. You watched the players get their medals and you saw him, getting his very own medal. He ran up to his family and they all hugged him.

Imagine if you were there with him.

And then he started to walk at your direction. He showed the fans the trophy with such pride and you always adored that side of him.

Without noticing he stood in front of the crowd that you was in, and he hardly even recognised you until he saw you. His heart stopped.

You looked up from your phone to see him standing there. Your friends were too caught up in their own conversation to notice you seeing Trent again after all these years.

You smiled at him and pointed at the trophy he was holding, he looked down at it then back at you and mouthed “Not bad”.

You smiled again and it felt like the time stopped and that is was only you and Trent in the stadium.

You couldn’t help but let a tear leave your eye, as you looked at him one last time.

You turned your back on him and dried your tears as you started to leave with your friends.

Trent didn’t move, he was still hoping for you to come back.

Maybe in another universe.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [eventually smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking ]

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 1 - Trent. | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 12.5k

The first time Trent bought you a gift, it was for your birthday—years ago, when everything between you was still in that gray space. You couldn’t name it if you tried but it wasn’t friendship but it certainly wasn’t something else. It was subtle at first, the way things were changing. He wasn’t even supposed to come to your party. He had a match but he made the effort to drop by for a little while. He didn’t make a scene or grab attention; it wasn’t like him to do that. But there was something about the way he navigated through the crowd, like he was looking for someone in particular. You. When he found you, standing near the edge of the party, he smiled, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, because there was something he was holding back, something he didn’t know how to say.

“Hey, happy birthday, pretty girl,” he said. The nickname he’d called you for ages made your heart ache every time. He leaned in to hug you. It should've been quick, casual, nothing out of the ordinary. But the moment his arms were around you, you felt a warmth spread through your chest that only he made you feel.

“I didn’t think you were coming?” You smiled back at him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing around at the crowd before dropping his gaze to you again. “I can’t stay long, but I, uh… I wanted to give you a little something on your actual birthday.” He smiled as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box.

“Oh…Thanks… that’s really sweet, T. What is this?” You stared at it for a second, a little surprised. It wasn’t awkward as much as it was charged. 

“Just something I saw and thought of you,” he said simply, though the weight of those words hung in the air. You blinked, taken aback.

“You think about me?” You asked. He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he smiled, almost shyly, and ran a hand over his hair. 

“Uh yeah,” he admitted earnestly, but almost embarrassed. He thought about you a lot and he could never tell you just how much, so his voice was soft. It made your heart skip in a way you hadn’t expected. There was a pause, the kind that felt heavy with everything unsaid between the two of you. Your fingers trembled a little as you opened the box. Inside was a necklace—delicate and beautiful, not over-the-top in looks but you knew the price tag was almost stupid. It was Van Clef, it was a gold little diamond butterfly and it just felt… right. It felt very you and Trent. Like something if you knew, it was extravagant but on the surface it looked like something so simple. It sparkled in the light, and you could immediately tell how much thought he had put into picking it.

“T… this is gorgeous,” you breathed out, lifting it out of the box to admire it closer.

“I’m glad you like it.” He watched you, his eyes softening. Without thinking, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a hug again. But this time, it was different—charged in a way that had never been there before. His arms circled around you, and you could feel the way he pulled you in tighter, almost as if he didn’t want to let go. You rested your head against his chest, the soft sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear, and the warmth of his body seeped into yours. It was the kind of hug that made the world fall away. You were vaguely aware of the party continuing on around you, the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses, but all of that seemed distant. All you could focus on was the way his hands rested on your lower back, the way his body fit perfectly against yours, and how easy it would be to stay like this. The hug lingered, far longer than what anyone could consider appropriate for two friends. You both knew it, but neither of you pulled away. It felt like you were both standing on the edge of something, something that was just waiting for one of you to acknowledge. But neither of you did. Instead, you stayed wrapped up in him, in that quiet moment that felt suspended in time. When you finally, reluctantly, pulled back, your eyes met his, and for a brief second, the space between you felt charged with all the words neither of you had the courage to say.

“Thank you, T,” you whispered, your voice soft but thick with something unspoken.  He smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—something deeper.

“You’re welcome, pretty girl, happy birthday.” Your fingers brushed against the necklace, still cradled in the box. You hadn’t even put it on yet, but already, it felt like it meant more than just a birthday gift. It felt like a secret, something that was just between the two of you. After he left that night, you went up to your room and immediately clasped the necklace around your neck. The weight of it was delicate but constant, a reminder of him. You wore it every day after that, like a piece of him was always with you, even if no one else knew what it meant. And in the days that followed, you caught yourself touching the necklace absentmindedly, like a reflex. Whenever someone asked about it, you’d smile and brush off the question, but inside, it felt like the necklace was tethered to a part of your heart that Trent had unknowingly claimed. You hadn’t yet figured out what it all meant, but every time you saw him after that, it was there—hanging between the two of you, unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a necklace. It was a shift, a turning point, a moment where you could feel something deeper taking root. You wore it like a secret, but deep down, you knew the truth. You weren’t the only one thinking about him. Trent was thinking about you, too. More than he could ever say.  The necklace tethered you to him in ways you hadn’t yet fully realized. You wore it every day, and though no one else knew it was from him, he knew. It was like a private, silent confession, a symbol of something growing between you two, something neither of you had the courage to speak aloud. Even when you were with other guys—laughing with them, holding their hand, even kissing them—Trent would notice the necklace hanging against your skin. It was a quiet, painful reminder that no matter how close anyone else got, you were still wearing something of his. His. Trent winced every time he saw it. The sight of you with someone else, another guy’s arm draped around you, it hurt more than he liked to admit. But it was the necklace, his necklace, that held his attention, keeping him tethered to you despite the distance he tried to keep. It killed him to see you with them, laughing, kissing, as if they had some claim over you. And yet, there was that small, irrational part of him that found solace in the fact that, even in those moments, you still wore something he had given you. 

That night, the night of your birthday, the hug—the way your body had pressed against his—was terrifying to Trent. The way your soft scent of cedarwood and violets lingered on his clothes long after you let go, the way your hands had touched him with that familiar warmth, all of it burned into his memory. He had hugged you countless times before, but this time was different. This time, it felt like you fit perfectly into him, like his body had been waiting for yours all along. And your laugh…  god, the way it sent him over the edge. That night, it was like his walls were crumbling, every instinct in him screaming that this was more than friendship, more than some passing crush. It was deeper, more consuming than he could have ever imagined. Suddenly, the idea of you and him wasn’t just some distant dream. It was real. He was completely attached to you now, and that terrified him more than anything. But what was he supposed to do? Jack was his best friend. Jack… your older brother. Jack… his best friend since primary school. Trent couldn’t betray him like that. He couldn’t act on these feelings, no matter how much he wanted to. He shouldn’t have been so drawn to you, but every time you were near, it was impossible to ignore the pull between you. So he kept his distance as best he could, leaving you tied solely by a sentimental gift.  He continued to see other girls, hoping it would distract him, help him forget. But nothing worked. Every time he kissed another girl, held another girl’s hand, there was a hollowness in his chest because none of them were you. They didn’t laugh like you, didn’t look at him the way you did, and they certainly didn’t smell like the Byredo al d'Afrique. Even as he pretended to move on, the memory of that hug—the way your body had fit so perfectly against his—haunted him. It was no longer just a harmless crush. He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to stop it. And the necklace, the first of many gifts that followed it, sitting atop your decalogue every day was just rubbing salt in the wound because no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, Trent knew the truth. He wanted you. He was completely, undeniably attached. And that terrified him more than anything else. 

This year, It had been one of those birthdays you didn’t want to celebrate. The boy you’d been seeing had ended things, and you were still licking your wounds from the whole ordeal. Despite your reluctance, your best friend Layla and your brother, Jack had insisted on throwing you a party at the house. The decorations were beautiful, and your friends had shown up, making it as lively as it could be. But no matter how much you smiled, how many ‘thank yous’ you muttered, there was a hole in your chest that only one person could fill.

Trent. 

Your brother’s best friend—who, at this point, was just that. A best friend of your brother. Nothing more to you. Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. Trent had been away for a match, he always was around your birthday so you hadn’t expected to see him at all tonight, but still, a part of you couldn’t help but pout as you realized he hadn’t even texted. He always texted. If he was away. He always made an effort. No matter where he was. It stung more than you wanted to admit. The night dragged on, drinks were poured, and laughter filled the air, but your mind was stuck on the absence of that one text message. You were lost in thought when you suddenly heard Layla’s voice, sharp and breathless, cut through the chatter.

"Oh my fucking God," she muttered, her eyes wide, fixed on something outside. Her hand gripped your arm tightly. You frowned at her, confused, but followed her gaze to the window. That’s when you saw him. 

Trent.

He was stepping out of a sleek Mercedes G-Wagon, a bow—an actual bow—wrapped around the top of the car like something out of a commercial. Your heart stopped, your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, you didn’t register the car, didn’t understand what it meant. All you could see was him.  He looked impossibly good, dressed in all black, his usual confidence radiating off him as he made his way up the driveway toward the house. Your mouth fell open, and you barely noticed the laughter that erupted around you. Jack and Trent’s friend Noah let out a booming laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Trent, you’re tapped," Noah chuckled, clearly amused. Jack stood frozen for a second, staring out the window with his arms crossed. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." He shook his head slowly, mumbling under his breath, Your heart was in your throat, pounding loudly in your ears. You felt like the whole world had slowed down as you watched Trent approach. Your eyes hadn’t left him, too stunned to even react properly. The car, the bow, all of it started to sink in, but none of that mattered as much as the sight of him standing at the front door, about to walk in. He had messaged you. Not with words on your phone, but with something far more impossible to ignore. Layla squealed with excitement, grabbing you in a tight hug, her energy infectious as she bounced on her toes. You were still in disbelief at the sheer grandiosity of the gift, staring out at the car parked outside with its oversized bow. But despite your shock, it seemed like everyone around you had expected something like this—teasing aside, they weren’t that surprised. Layla leaned in close, her voice dropping into a sing-song whisper.

“He loves you,” she teased, drawing out the word with a knowing smirk. You shook your head quickly, a small laugh escaping you.

“No, he does not,” you said, trying to brush off the idea. You wished he did, but in your mind, that was far from reality. You were just Jack’s little sister, nothing more. 

“He’s just being nice.” Out loud, you were casual. Your tone was a little firmer, as if trying to convince yourself as much as her.  Layla grinned, nudging you with her elbow.

 “I wish boys were ‘nice’ like that to me.” She giggled. Meanwhile, Jack was dapping up Trent, shaking his head in disbelief but with a smile.

"You’re fucking insane, bro," Jack said, his voice carrying a mix of awe and amusement. "But… nice of you. She hadn’t been happy all night ‘til you showed up." Trent flicked his eyes to you, catching the beaming smile that had spread across your face. He smiled softly, a hint of pride tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew it wasn’t the car that had lifted your spirits. It was the fact that he’d made the effort to be here, to make sure your birthday wasn’t just another forgettable night. You walked over to him again, the warmth in your chest now overwhelming. You hugged him tightly, your arms lingering around his neck longer than they should have, his hands slipping lower than they should have. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “But I can’t keep something like this, T.” You cooed. He brushed off your words with a casual wave of his hand. 

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s yours, pretty girl. It’s in your name as well so...”  He spoke softly and so you nodded, still overwhelmed by the gesture.

“Thank you,” you repeated, your voice softer this time. Then, in a moment of quiet vulnerability, you leaned in closer. “The car’s amazing, T, but I’m just happy you’re here. I’m so happy to see you.” You whispered. Trent’s smile softened as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“That’s all I wanted,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You happy.” In that moment, standing so close to him, everything else—the party, the noise, the teasing—faded away. All that mattered was him and the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. As the night stretched on, the earlier excitement of Trent’s arrival slowly blurred into the haze of laughter, drinks, and celebration with everyone. But naturally, as you always seemed to, you found yourself tucked into a cozy corner with him, your head buzzing with the warmth of alcohol and his presence. The two of you were caught in that space where the party seemed distant, as though the music, chatter, and clinking glasses belonged to another world. Here, in this little bubble, it was just you and Trent, giggling over some joke neither of you could remember anymore.  His hand rested on your waist, the touch light but electric, sending little shocks of awareness through you. You didn’t want him to move, didn’t want the moment to end. Each time you laughed, you leaned into him a little more, the casual way his fingers stayed on your side feeling like the most natural thing in the world. You both pretended like you didn’t know what you were doing—that the long looks, the lingering touches, and the proximity weren’t flirting. But they were, and you both knew it, even if neither of you was brave enough to say it out loud. You were swaying slightly, both of you tipsy, your heads fuzzy from the night’s drinks. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, mingling with the scent of the air that breezed in from the nearby window. Your stomach fluttered with every laugh, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much, and all the while, his hand stayed at your waist, like an anchor keeping you steady. Then, someone from the party stumbled past, bumping into you and sending you careening into Trent’s chest. For a moment, everything slowed. His arms instinctively wrapped around you to steady you, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You looked up at him, your face mere centimeters from his, and time seemed to freeze.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle, as though the world outside this corner didn’t exist. You nodded, biting your lip.

 “Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered, your words barely audible over the pounding in your chest. But neither of you moved. Your lips were so close, dangerously close. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the heat between you simmering just beneath the surface.

“Okay?” he asked again, his gaze flickering down to your mouth for the briefest second.

“Okay.” You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat. 

“Okay.” He echoed. You two couldn’t get another word to even enter your brains. You were so fixed on these new feelings of closeness. 

 “Okay.” You smiled, breathless, and repeated. The word was like a lifeline, something to cling to as the air around you grew thick with tension. The more you said it, the closer you felt to losing control, but also, it was grounding. Keeping you both on the side of restraint. You both must have said it back and forth a dozen times, each ‘okay’ becoming quieter, softer, more charged. The weight of what wasn’t being said hung between you, heavy and undeniable. His eyes were dark, full of something that matched the way your heart was racing. The world felt like it was spinning, but not from the alcohol. It was him—his nearness, his hands on you, the way he was looking at you like he was holding himself back with every ounce of self-control he had. Despite the fog of drunkenness, there was a clarity in the moment. You both knew exactly what you wanted. It would have been so easy to kiss him. To close the gap and let the world slip away. You could feel his restraint in the way his fingers curled slightly into your side, in the way his breath hitched. You wanted it too. You wanted to close your eyes and let it happen, but something inside both of you whispered not like this. 

For Trent, it was about not wanting your first kiss, your first real moment together, to happen in a blur of alcohol, where the next morning was uncertain. He wanted it to mean something. To remember every second. His mind was a haze of swirling thoughts, but one thing was crystal clear—he couldn’t do this, not like this. He wanted more than just a fleeting, drunken kiss. His body was betraying him, his thoughts as slurred as his worlds but he knew… not like this. For you, the reasons were the same, but more. Not drunk. Not in public. Not after he gave you a gift like that. You couldn’t risk the night becoming about the car or about a moment you wouldn’t remember with perfect clarity. You didn’t want the first kiss to be lost to hazy memories. You wanted to be able to hold onto it forever. So both of you stayed frozen, neither willing to pull away, but neither ready to cross the line. The air between you hummed with unspoken desire, but you both clung to restraint like a lifeline, knowing that whatever this was, it deserved better than tonight. Slowly, Trent’s hand slid from your waist, leaving a ghost of warmth behind, and he took a small step back bumping into the wall behind him, breaking the tension but not the connection. His eyes met yours, soft but full of promise, like he was telling you without words that there would be a right time. Just not tonight. You let out a shaky breath, smiling at him, and he smiled back. The moment passed, but it wasn’t gone. Just waiting.

Trent and your feelings needed to be locked away and one of the largest reasons was Jack especially. Growing up without your mum left a gap in your life that never fully healed. Her absence was something you felt deeply, especially in those quiet moments when you needed her comfort the most. Your dad did everything he could to support you and Jack, but eventually, the weight of memories became too much for him. Once you and Jack were old enough, he moved away, explaining that staying was too hard, but he’d held on for you as long as he could. Even with your dad far away, he stayed close in his own way. Yet, you still felt a sense of isolation that seemed impossible to shake. Your only true constant was Jack. He was more than just a brother; he was family in every sense, and when he succeeded in his career, he’d insisted you live with him. It was his house, but your home. Jack’s success had brought him plenty of friends, but none as close as Trent. You remembered the first time you saw them together as kids, the two inseparable on a football pitch, laughing and shouting like they were the only ones who mattered. Your crush on Trent had grown from those early days, blossoming from something innocent into something you couldn’t ignore. Your mum used to always tease you about it and  you’d deny it but in retrospect she was right.  Watching Trent grow into himself over the years only made things worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. Through your teenage years, you’d felt every moment of jealousy, angst, and longing when he showed up with a new girlfriend. Your crush wavered in intensity but never fully disappeared, flickering in the background as life moved forward. Now, though, it felt different. More possible. Jack was still oblivious, still the overprotective brother who’d sooner scare Trent away than entertain the idea of his friend being with you. But the way Trent had looked at you recently—the almost possessive glances, the magnetic pull between you—had left you wondering if the years of pining might finally be leading somewhere.

From the very first moment Trent walked through your front door, it was impossible not to feel the pull. And now…He was everything a girl could dream of: a sexy, successful Premier League footballer with confidence that was borderline delusional and a smile that made your heart race. Every time he visited, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline. You’d sneak a glance in the mirror, adjusting your hair, making sure you looked your best, hoping he’d notice you more than just as his best friend’s little sister. And Trent did notice. His eyes had a way of finding you across a room, holding your gaze a moment too long, his lips curling into that lazy smile that sent a shiver down your spine. Whenever he spoke directly to you, his voice was lower, softer, meant just for your ears. You savored every second he paid you any special attention. His touches—casual brushes against your arm, a hand lingering on your back as he squeezed past you in the kitchen—felt like electricity on your skin. You lived for those moments, those fleeting touches, and the way he seemed to light up when he was around you. You dated other guys, tried to create distance, but no one could ever quite compare to Trent. Each new boyfriend felt like a distraction, a poor substitute for what you really wanted. And it was never easy. Whenever your dating life came up in conversation, especially in front of Trent, you hated it. You could feel his eyes on you, a heavy gaze filled with something unreadable, something that made your heart clench. He didn’t like it either—you could tell. He’d get quiet, tense, like he was holding something back, and you’d wonder what he was thinking. But you were off-limits. Trent had made that clear without saying a word. He flirted with you in ways that made your heart pound, yet he always knew just when to pull back, to keep things on the safe side of friendship. He was careful, disciplined, as if he knew that if he ever let himself fully give in to what was simmering beneath the surface, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And so, he kept you at arm’s length, even though you could see the desire flickering in his eyes, could feel it in every lingering touch, every stolen glance.

Jack was a nerd… and his friends were nerds… Trent was a nerd and you knew this because you knew them all too well. To the outside world, to girls that knew them; they were a friend group of objectively good looking successful men but you knew better than that. You had been tagging along for years. Every week, whenever their friend group would convene at Jack's house predominantly to watch films. It began unintentionally but now… you made sure you were home that day.  Your brother’s friend group had a tradition of movie nights—an excuse for a bunch of twenty-somethings to kick back in your brother’s house, or rather your house, enjoying each other's company and the latest blockbuster or old film they likely weren’t alive for when it came out but it was a ‘classic you have to have seen’ they’d tell you. They were a year or so older, all of them already finding their paths in life, with successful careers to boast about. It was one of the reasons you decided to live with your brother after graduating uni; that, and the lure of the sprawling, comfortable home he offered you. But, if you were being honest, the only success story you cared about was Trent's. Every time your brother mentioned one of these movie nights, you found yourself at home ‘by coincidence,’ always ready with a casual excuse about why you weren’t out with your own friends. Deep down, you knew why you stayed. You liked hearing Trent talk about his matches and his training, his voice animated with the passion he felt for the game. His presence in the room was magnetic, drawing your attention even when you tried to play it cool. Trent had a love for films that rivaled his love for football though. He cherished these nights, getting to be ‘normal’ hanging out with his friends and unwinding after a long week. But more than the movies, more than the camaraderie, what Trent loved most were those fleeting, stolen moments with you. When the group would start to drift towards the cinema room, you and Trent would linger in the kitchen, finding little excuses to extend those precious seconds together. Maybe it was grabbing a snack or pouring another drink, but it always ended up with just the two of you, your eyes meeting across the counter, a secret smile shared between you.

He’d take his time getting to the cinema room, always managing to sit next to you on the plush sectional. He loved the way you’d turn to him, your eyes bright as you asked about his latest match or teased him about something trivial. You didn’t even know it, but he lived for those moments—when your hand would casually brush his, or when you’d lean in just a bit closer, letting your arm press against his. The air would thicken with a tension neither of you acknowledged, but both of you felt deeply. There were times when you got a little more daring, your playful nudges becoming something more, your laughter a bit louder, your touch lingering. Trent would feel his breath catch in his throat, his heart pounding as he willed himself to stay composed. You had no idea how much those moments meant to him, how he silently prayed for them every time he walked through your brother’s door. He savored every second you paid him attention, every word you spoke to him, every shared laugh and every fleeting touch. Those nights were his guilty pleasure, a few hours where he could pretend, just for a little while, that the feelings he had for you weren’t forbidden, that there wasn’t an unspoken line he wasn’t allowed to cross. And every time you got a little braver, a little more handsy, you made it harder for him to keep pretending. 

For you, at those movie nights, it was like there was a magnetic force drawing you together. No matter how crowded the room was, you’d always end up next to each other on the couch, under the same blanket, your bodies instinctively leaning closer. Not too close but his arm would casually rest along the back of the couch behind you, his fingers sometimes brushing your shoulder, sending sparks through your skin. The air between you crackled with tension, a tension that both thrilled and terrified you. You’d tell yourself it was innocent, that it was just because you were comfortable with each other. But in those dark, quiet moments, you could almost hear the unspoken words that hung heavy between you. It was a game you both played—pretending that being this close, sharing these stolen moments, was enough. But deep down, you both knew better. There was something between you, something powerful and undeniable, just waiting for the right moment to break free. And until then, you’d keep circling each other, caught in a dance of longing. 

It was one of those balmy summer nights when your brother set up the projector in the back garden for a movie night by the pool. It was the first movie night of the summer, and the energy was already thick with a heady mix of warmth, laughter, and unspoken tension. The boys were sprawled out across the patio, beers in hand, enjoying the evening sun dipping below the horizon. And then you spotted him. 

Trent.

"I didn't know you were back," you grinned, moving to stand next to Trent out on the patio, all of the other boys wrapped up in conversation of their own. This conversation alone though had been what he was waiting for since he got to the house. 

"Yeah? Miss me?" he asked, his voice playful but with a hint of something deeper.

"Of course," you teased back, stepping into his embrace. The way Trent hugged you made your insides flutter… frankly it made you want to scream. He smelled like something familiar yet intoxicating, and the way your bodies fit together just felt right. His hands, as always, hovered just above the curve of your waist, teasingly close to somewhere more dangerous, igniting that tension you'd both danced around for so long. He meant that cuddle and you could feel it. Cuddles between you two know were like some sort of edging. It would get you off but never enough… not even close.

"Who am I supposed to sit with if you weren't here?" you teased, your voice laced with the familiarity of years of flirty banter. Ever since these movie nights started, you always ended up next to him-it was magnetic, almost like a tradition neither of you wanted to break.

"Well you're not sitting with anyone else," he said casually, but there was weight behind his words. Indirectly, Trent wasn't just talking about the movie. He meant it in a way that felt more like a promise, like he was staking a claim that went beyond who sat where on a garden chair. He was protective over you, in ways even your brother or anyone could never know. 

"No?" You shook your head, smiling.

"No," he replied, his eyes steady on yours.

"Besides, who else is supposed to listen to you yap during the films?" He smirked and it was deadly. His smile was devastatingly handsome and it made your stomach flip. 

"I don't talk that much," you quipped back, feigning offense. "You're so dramatic." you swatted at him, your fingers catching his chest just ever so slightly. 

"I'm not," he retorted, the corner of his mouth lifting. "You just don't shut up." His fingers found your waist, pinching playfully, but his hand lingered a little longer than it needed to, sending a shiver through you.

"Sorry, I won't make a peep this time." You bit the tip of your pointer finger holding it between your teeth in feigned bashfulness  unknowingly teasing him. He smirked, his eyes flicking over you with something between amusement and desire.

"Nah, don't do that. Your voice has become part of my favorite film scores now. Just meant to be in my ear." His words, low and teasing, held more meaning than you wanted to admit. You felt the heat between you, the invisible line you kept pretending didn't exist becoming thinner and thinner.

As more of their friends arrived you minded your own business trying to play nonchalant.  But you hung around. You were nearby, casually bent over in your bikini, picking up something you’d dropped near the pool. The moment seemed innocent enough, but you were oblivious to the eyes trailing every move you made. One of Jack’s friends, reclining in his chair, couldn’t help but groan as he watched.

“Mate, not gonna lie, she looks better every summer.” His voice was low enough that Jack, who was inside grabbing more drinks, wouldn’t hear. It was a fine line but one that existed where this friend group was close enough to tease you, treat you like the younger sibling you were but also just close enough to simultaneously be attracted to you. You were less than a year younger than some of them, you were grown, and they knew that. And in the summer, when Jack set up the movies by the pool… you were a more than welcomed addition to movie nights. 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Noah, chuckled in agreement, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer than they should. Trent was quiet at first, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his gaze elsewhere. But when he glanced up, seeing the way the sunlight caught your hair and how the curve of your body seemed effortlessly graceful, he slipped. 

"She’s fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice softer than he intended.  “I mean.. She’s leng, you know?” He attempted to not wound so smitten but that was all the ammunition Noah needed. He shot Trent a look, grinning ear to ear, and shoved his shoulder with a teasing nudge. 

“Bro, sod off and just admit you want to sleep with her. How long are you going to drag this out?” The banter took off from there, the boys piling on with their relentless teasing. 

“Yeah, honest mate, stop pretending like you’re not into her,” another one quipped, the laughter bubbling up as they watched Trent squirm in his seat, struggling to deflect. Trent opened his mouth to defend himself, his words tripping over each other in the attempt to stay cool.

 “It’s not like that,” he tried, but the boys weren’t buying it. They roared with laughter, enjoying his discomfort far too much. Noah, never one to let an opportunity slip by, leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.

 “Bro, we all know she wouldn’t think twice about letting you fuck her. Both of you are not fooling anyone.” He joked. Trent’s smile faltered for a second, but then it returned, a little weaker than before. His eyes betrayed him as they drifted back to you, drawn like a magnet, just as you stood up and turned around, meeting his gaze head-on. For a brief moment, everything slowed—the noise of the teasing boys faded, the laughter dulled, and it was just you and Trent, eyes locked in a moment heavy with something unspoken. You smiled at him, a casual, carefree grin, completely unaware of the conversation happening just feet away. The boys fell silent, their eyes darting between you and Trent, waiting for someone to make the first move, their teasing now hanging in the air like a challenge. Noah couldn’t resist breaking the tension. “Oi, Trentski, come on—tell me you two haven’t already hooked up?” The question hit Trent like a bucket of ice water. He straightened up, shaking his head a little too quickly, his voice firm and almost defensive.

 “Nah, nah! Jack would kill me if he thought anything was going on. I’m not stupid. Nothing happened.” He said it with conviction, but the boys saw through it. He wasn’t lying, nothing happened physically, but something was going on. Their teasing resumed, but Trent was barely listening anymore. His mind was racing, the banter and laughter just background noise to the thoughts swirling in his head. Not stupid, sure… But in that moment, watching you, the line between caution and temptation felt dangerously thin. Maybe not stupid, but a bit horny for you, he thought, the words playing on repeat in his mind as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping no one would notice. You walked over, oblivious to the weight of the conversation you’d just missed.

“What’s got you lot creasing?” you asked, looking around at the group, your eyes finally landing on Trent.

 “Nah, nothing. Just giving Trenty a hard time, as usual.” Before anyone else could, Noah blurted out an answer.  He winked at you, and you furrowed your brow, confused but not pressing the issue.  Trent smiled weakly at you, hoping to shake off the intensity of the moment, but as you stood close, your skin warm from the sun, he felt his pulse quicken. Every inch of him wanted to pull you closer, but he knew better. Jack would be back any second, and the boys were already wound up from teasing him. As you looked at Trent, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, just a little longer than they should have. And when he smiled back, there was something different in it—something soft, almost vulnerable. It sent a warmth through you, one you tried to ignore, but couldn’t. The boys resumed their chatter, their attention drifting back to harmless jokes, but Trent couldn’t shake the feeling. Every summer, he’d watched you grow into yourself, more confident, more radiant, and every summer, it became harder to pretend he didn’t want something more. The line between you had always been there—unspoken but understood—and he’d never been foolish enough to cross it. Until now.

The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything but you stayed in your tiny bikini, relishing in the warm weather. You laid stretched out in a tiny fuchsia crochet set letting the evening heat soak into your skin as Jack got the film sorted. 

"Hey," Trent said as he came over, casually lying down next to you.

"Hi," you greeted back, glancing up with a soft smile. The way you were laying made your bikini push your tits together in a way you knew was hard not to notice. You couldn't help but tease, "I'm so glad it's finally summer." you cooed. 

"Me too," Trent replied, though his focus wasn't entirely on the season.

"Yeah, you should be," you giggled, your eyes flicking over his bronzed skin. "You look better tanned." You teased him.

"Damn, alright." He feigned offense, but the smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn't too bothered by the comment. In fact, he liked that you were paying attention.

"Take it as a friendly suggestion," you teased, eyes sparkling. "Got any big holiday plans? You asked. 

"Eh, some," he shrugged, but his attention wasn't on the holidays. It was on you-how the setting sun hit your skin, the way you casually lay there, completely at ease but still making his thoughts stray. You muttered a quiet ‘cool’ though; feeling slightly awkward. You knew Trent had a life outside of this, outside of you, filled with other girls, holidays, a footballer’s luxury lifestyle but he'd never flaunted it in front of you. Still, the thought of him away from here, away from you, left a weird pang in your chest. "Is it?" he asked, a glint of mischief in his eye. He knew where your thoughts went and he wanted to drag you back into lightheartedness. 

"I don't know, you didn't tell me any details." You raised an eyebrow, biting on your finger with a flustered giggle. Unintentionally, Trent’s eyes were drawn to your lips.

"Maybe I don't want you keeping tabs on me," Trent teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I don't... I have zero interest in your whereabouts," you stuttered, caught off guard by the teasing tone in his voice and the way he was looking at you. You were lying and he knew that. Neither of you would say that though. 

"That color looks good on you. Take it as a friendly suggestion." He leaned in slightly, his voice lower as he said. You watched, heart racing, as his tanned hand reached over, squeezing just above your knee. His fingers slid up your leg, hooking slightly under the band of your bikini.

"Serious though, it looks good," he repeated, his touch lingering. You almost blacked out. 

"I got it," you smirked, swatting at his hand half-heartedly, pretending you didn't want him touching you when, in truth, it sent a thrill through you. "Thank you for your input. It's noted." You snapped.

"Good," Trent replied with a wink, his gaze lingering on yours a little longer than usual, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Noah watched the whole interaction between you and Trent with growing amusement, shaking his head before turning to Jack. 

"Mate, you just let him go on like that?" he asked, motioning toward Trent, who was snapping the band of your bikini playfully against your skin.

"They're mates," Jack brushed it off, trying to seem unfazed. "It's not like anything happens." Jack's tone was casual, but the truth was he tried not to think too much about the way Trent interacted with you and you with him. You were the most important people in his life and he couldn’t imagine it past that. He couldn’t risk imagining there being anything more because he couldn’t risk losing either of you. He knew you had a crush on Trent, and Trent entertained it, but Jack couldn't believe Trent would actually act on anything. He laughed, trying to brush the situation off. "As long as it's not you, geez. At least I know Trenty doesn't have an STD." Jack smirked. Noah scoffed. 

"Aye, Y/N, whatever happened to that Manny lad you were seeing?" Another boy, grinning, piped up. You blinked, brought out of the blissful haze of being near Trent, who was now lying beside you but his hand retreating after the other boys attention shifted to you. 

"Oh... just stopped talking, I guess," you answered, your tone casual but clearly uninterested. That wasn’t really what happened but it was an easy answer.

"So he pied you, huh?" Jack teased, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you.

"No, I got bored," you snapped back, shooting Jack a glare. The relationship ended because the guy you were seeing was nicely put.. Insane. Also, neither of you were that interested in the other but Jack and his friends didn’t need to know the semantics. The details would probably enrage Jack so you let them think otherwise. 

"Yeah, sure," Noah sarcastically added with a laugh, fueling the banter. You rolled over onto your stomach, attempting to ignore them, but you could feel Trent's eyes locked on the curve of your ass as your bikini shifted with the movement. The reverb of your ass had him locked in.

"So... bored, huh?" His gaze was hot, unmistakable, and he leaned in, his voice quieter now, meant just for you. You hummed in response, feeling the weight of his stare. Trent knew you had been seeing people here and there, and it always bothered him, though he tried to suppress the feeling. He tried to ignore this one, he really did. But this one specifically? The fact the guy you’d been seeing had played for a rival football club? It stung in a way Trent wasn't ready to admit. The idea that it was over, though, thrilled him more than it should have. Trent lowered his voice even further, leaning closer. "In what department? Besides the club he plays for?" He smirked.

"All of them," you replied with a knowing smile, your eyes gleaming as you added, "Bedroom specifically." You confirmed the answer he was skirting around. Trent smirked, his gaze darkening as he processed your words. 

"Interesting, interesting. Y/N, you're always interesting," he muttered, he tapped fingers near your knee, the tension between you two palpable. His gaze flicked back up to your eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world-the jokes, the boys, the movie night-faded into the background. There was something simmering between you two, unspoken, but undeniable.

You were sprawled out on the couch, wallowing in the aftermath of said breakup days later. It wasn’t that you still had feelings for the guy, you knew your heart lied somewhere you couldn’t entertain but the sting of rejection lingered, clinging to you in a way you hated. Frankly, he treated you like shit, you should’ve been relieved you were out and you’d tried to brush the whole thing off, but the hurt of being left behind always cut deep. He blamed you for whatever and ended things and you hated being ‘broken up’ with. Your solution, as it had often been, was to go out—to drown the pain in loud music, drinks, and distraction. It was irresponsible but you found solace in losing yourself. 

“What’re you up to this weekend?” Jack asked, dropping his bag by the door. He came home and saw you lounging on the couch, barely moving. You didn’t even look up.

“Going out Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and brunch on Sunday.” You told him in a monotone voice. Jack shook his head, clearly disapproving. 

“I don’t like it, Y/N. You gotta chill. That kid was a prick anyway. You don’t need to do this” He told you. Jack was right, he was a prick but that barely scratched the surface describing how messed up he was but you’d never let your brother know. But what Jack did know was your habits. He knew you had a way of not necessarily acting out but finding comfort in strangers when things got scary, probably not in the healthiest way. You just hated being alone. You knew he knew all this so you bit your lip, not in the mood for another lecture, but your stomach twisted with his words. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, shifting on the couch. Jack had his own way of coping with the way losing your mum affected you both. You went out looking for detachment whereas Jack was looking for meaning in relationships. In your opinion, it always seemed to be with people who were playing games with him. And lately, it involved spending more time with Megan, a girl he’d been seeing.

“I’m going out tonight with Megan,” he announced, and you immediately kissed your teeth, rolling your eyes.

“What?” he asked, frowning now.

“Nothing,” you replied, but the tension was unmistakable. He wasn’t going to let it drop.

“Y/N, what?” he repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “Go on… tell me.” He quipped. You sighed. 

“I just don’t think Mum would like her.” The room went quiet for a moment. You didn’t know why you said it, but it slipped out before you could stop it. Jack stared at you for a beat, his expression softening. He felt bad so he let out a long sigh, shaking his head but smiling faintly. 

“Y/N… I don’t think Mum would like what you’re doing either.” His words hit harder than you wanted to admit. You knew he was right. You’d been using going out as an escape, not a solution. Still, you weren’t ready to deal with any of it just yet, so you kept quiet. Jack stood up, getting ready to head upstairs. 

“Noah and Trent are coming over later, they’ll probably stick around till I’m back, yeah?” As he left the room, he called back casually. Your heart immediately skipped a beat at the mention of Trent. Jack’s best friend, your longtime crush, the boy who had been increasingly hard to ignore lately. You sat up on the couch, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and nervousness churn in your chest. Trent was coming over, and suddenly, your evening was looking a lot more complicated.

You and Layla were standing in the kitchen, both sipping on iced coffee and talking about the party you had planned to go to later. The energy was light, and you were trying to distract yourself from your recent split by laughing about it. Trent was walking nearby, just out of sight, but within earshot as you rambled on walking back from the toilet.

"I just want a man who knows how to properly fuck me. I’d like him to actually know where my clit is this time," you blurted out, clearly letting your frustrations slip. "I mean, like, after all the crap with him, I deserve someone who knows what the fuck they're doing in bed, you know?" You laughed and Layla agreed wholeheartedly. Trent, who had been casually walking back to Jack and Noah in the other room from the toilet, froze the moment those words left your mouth. His mind short-circuited. Every fiber of him wanted to walk into that room and say something, but instead, he felt a surge of heat build up inside him. He couldn't think straight. This is what you were thinking about? He could show you. He could be the one to do that for you. He knew what he was doing in the bedroom. He could feel himself getting hard just hearing you talk like that. He needed to leave. He couldn't be around you right now, he couldn’t hear you right now, not with those thoughts filling his head. As Trent made his quick exit, trying to steady his breathing, Layla leaned in closer to you, smirking. 

"So, what's your dream man then? Tell me more about this man who apparently knows where the clit is," she teased, eyeing you as you thought for a moment. Without missing a beat, you started listing off traits, unaware of how specific it was getting. You went through physical traits first. 

“Like deep brown eyes, that can flick from sexy to cute really fast.” You told her as you continued to rattle on. "And athletic, someone who can actually keep up with me. He has to have a sense of humor, be a little protective but not in a weird way, you know? And, like, I just want him to look at me like I'm all that matters.” You cooed. Layla let out a playful laugh, nudging you.

"So….Trent?” She teased you. You waved her off. “Y/N, you just described him to a T!" Your eyes widened as it clicked, and you burst out laughing, slightly embarrassed but also secretly acknowledging the truth in her words. Meanwhile, Trent, oblivious to this part of the conversation, was already long gone, desperate to get himself under control and not think about what you had just said. You and Layla headed upstairs to get ready and after the lengthy process you came downstairs looking dressed to kill in a dark red leather set. Trent’s jaw slacked whereas Jack lips pulled tight in annoyance. 

"Y/N, that skirt is too short," Jack said, his voice stern as you walked into the living room.

His eyes narrowed in disapproval, making you roll yours. Layla, standing beside you, took your hand with a mischievous grin and spun you around for effect. 

"Give us a spin!" Noah teased, his laughter making the room feel light. You playfully obliged, your matching set on full display for your audience as you spun holding Layla’s hand. 

"Jack, I’m not changing, it's a set!" you whined, tugging on the skirt a bit. It was a good outfit, after all.

"Y/N, go change," Jack said again, his tone serious. Before you could respond, Trent, who had been leaning against the wall, stood up and casually walked by you, his presence sending a wave of tension through the room. As he passed, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. 

"Can see your ass," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. You froze, trembling slightly at his words, your mind racing.

“And..?” The whispered question slipped out before you could stop yourself, turning to face him, your heart pounding. Trent smirked, taking a step back, eyes lazily traveling down your body. 

"That was all I had to say. Just wanted you to know." He cooed the words with a wink, leaving you on edge, a mix of frustration and desire coursing through you. Fuck, You just wanted to to ask him to just grab you right there. The desire to tell him to take this stupid outfit off you was nearly overwhelming. Your breath hitched as a thousand unspoken words passed between you. Jack, completely oblivious to the charged moment, snapped you back to reality. 

"Y/N, don't bring anyone home tonight." He told you. You blinked, refocusing on your brother. 

"I won't," you cooed innocently, giving him a smile as if everything was perfectly fine.

Trent smirked, stretching his arms above his head, looking every bit like a man who had just won some sort of conquest. There was a quiet confidence in his stance, as if he knew he had gotten under your skin but also that you wouldn’t get with anyone else tonight.  He didn't even need to say more-he knew where you both stood, and it felt like the beginning of a game you were both playing but refusing to name.

Late that night, you stumbled into the house, laughing with Layla as you both attempted to be quiet but failed miserably. 

"Laylaaaaa," you slurred, giggling as you tugged at the hem of your too-short skirt, "all he did was wink at me! And honestly, that did more for me all night than any man with his hands on me did!" You waved your hands dramatically, completely oblivious to the fact that Noah and Trent were still at the house, forgetting what Jack had told you. You really should call them roommates and not Jack’s friends for how often they overstayed. Layla snorted, steadying you as you wobbled on your heels. 

"You are such a mess," she teased, trying to help you get your shoes off as you stumbled through the entryway.

"I just want his lips all over meee," you whined, pouting dramatically, and unaware of the fact that your voice was now carried into the living room where Trent was sitting. Noah glanced over at Trent, his brows shooting up in amusement as he heard you. You didn't even realize you'd been overheard, lost in your drunken haze. You didn’t need to say a name. They knew. Trent sat up a little straighter on the couch, eyes glued to you as you staggered into the house. His face was neutral, but his jaw tightened as your words lingered in the air. Noah shot him a look and smirked, clearly entertained by the situation.

"So, how was your night?" Noah called out loud enough for you two to hear, the teasing tone in his voice unmistakable. Layla shot him a playful glare. 

"Don't make things worse, Noah," she said, though her lips were twitching with amusement. Trent, who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up. 

"Y/N," he said, his voice smooth but commanding, "c’mere." Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His tone wasn't playful or teasing like Noah's-it was firm, and it cut through your drunken fog in an instant. You turned to face him, your eyes wide, and despite the alcohol in your system, the weight of his gaze made you feel giddy. Without even thinking, you moved toward him, your steps a little unsteady but your focus completely on Trent. You dropped down onto the arm of the couch beside him, still smiling, but your stomach was in knots. Why was he looking at you like that? You couldn't quite read him, and it made your heart race. "I'm glad you had fun tonight," Trent said, his eyes not leaving yours. His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you hold your breath. "I'm glad you made it back home... with Layla." Trent's voice was teasing now, but there was an underlying intensity in the way he was looking at you that made your skin tingle. His hand brushed against your knee, and even though it was a light touch, it sent sparks through you. His hands moved to hold your thigh to steady you from falling. But the way his massive hand looked, squeezing your thigh and the way he emphasized ‘with Layla’ implying he was glad you didn’t come home with a man sent a thrill through you. You bit your lip, trying to play it cool despite the fact that your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it.

"Yeah?" you cooed, leaning slightly closer, drawn to him without even realizing it. You giggled at absolutely nothing. 

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice soft, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that made you squirm. There was a cheeLay glint in his eyes. He couldn’t not be mildly amused by you. You were grinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The sounds of the house, the fact that Noah and Layla were still there—it all melted into the background. All you could focus on was the way Trent was looking at you, his expression unreadable in your state, but his gaze unwavering. It felt like there was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and for a moment, you almost leaned in closer, your lips parting slightly as your body reacted instinctively. Noah, still watching from the other side of the room, exchanged a glance with Layla, but neither of them said anything. The tension between you and Trent was palpable, and it seemed like everyone in the room could feel it. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been this close to him, or felt this aware of every single movement he made. And as much as you tried to play it off, your body was betraying you. The butterflies in your stomach, the way your pulse quickened with every glance-it was undeniable. Finally Layla pulled on the back of your top dragging you off the arm of the couch. You stumbled to stand. You swayed on your feet, eyes barely focusing as you leaned heavily into Layla’s grip. 

“Layllllaaaa,” you whined, drawing out her name in a drunken slur, but she hushed you quickly.

“I know, I know, just shhh,” Layla whispered, firmly grabbing your shoulders and trying to steer you away from the living room where Noah and Trent were still watching, both amused and concerned. You weren’t having it though. You tried to lean toward her, but your balance betrayed you. 

“I think he’s so pretttyyy,” you whispered—or at least, you thought it was a whisper. In reality, it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Your eyes landed on Trent again, and your sloppy grin only grew wider. Layla let out an exasperated laugh, her grip on you tightening. 

“You’re gonna die tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath, trying not to laugh too much. Noah snickered, leaning back on the couch. 

“Y/N, no.” He laughed. “Embarrassing this,” he teased, shaking his head. “Layla, get her to stop.” You waved off Noah’s comment, your eyes still focused on Trent, who was watching you with a mixture of amusement and worry. His brows furrowed as he stood up, clearly ready to help. 

“Alright, need to get you to bed, drunk girl” he said, his concern more for your well-being than your drunken confession.

“No! No, you… stay right there, thanks, T, ” Layla said quickly, her eyes wide as she turned to face Trent, trying to keep him from getting closer. She knew that the moment Trent moved toward you, you’d start spilling even more of your feelings, and that was not something either of you could handle right now. Trent hesitated, watching you carefully as you stumbled a little in Layla’s grasp. He knew Layla was right, but his instinct to make sure you were okay was hard to ignore. He caught your eyes again, and for a second, you stared back at him, your drunken haze making you bolder than you’d ever be sober. “She was talking about a guy from tonight by the way,” Layla told them, trying to cover for you but it was a poor attempt. Her own words slurred slightly with a laugh. Trent’s lips twitched, and Noah chuckled. Layla was quick to save the moment, dragging you toward the stairs. “Okay, seriously,  time for bed,” she announced, shooting Trent a look as if to say please don’t do anything else. As Layla guided you to the stairs, you couldn’t help but glance back at Trent one more time, your heart still fluttering despite the alcohol in your system. His eyes followed you, and for a moment, you swore he almost smiled, but he caught himself, shaking his head slightly. You were a mess, but something about the way he looked at you made your heart race, even in your drunken state. You slumped down on the stairs, too tired to get up them and drunk to carry yourself any further. “Okayyy, come on, we’re going upstairs,” Layla coaxed, looking down at you with a sigh. Turning to the boys, she teased, “You guys have a good night wasting away your 20s.” She shot Noah and Trent a look, knowing they could be out having fun, but had opted for a quiet movie night instead.

“At least we’re not wasted!” he retorted, grinning at Layla. Noah laughed, raising his drink in mock cheers. But Trent wasn’t amused by the joke. He stood up, his face serious, and moved over to where you were sitting on the stairs. 

“Layla, seriously,” he quipped, giving her a knowing look. He understood the caution before but this was just dragging on. You needed to get to bed. So then he turned his attention to you, his voice softening. “C’mere you,” he said gently, and before you knew it, he had effortlessly scooped you up into his arms.

“Hiii,” you whispered softly, your voice slurring as you looked up at him. Your faces were close, so close that you could see the small cluster of freckles just under his eye, something you’d almost forgotten was there.

“Hi,” he replied, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he glanced down at you.

“You’re nice to me,” you earnestly confessed with a giggle, your words filled with drunken sincerity.

“I am,” he confirmed with a quiet chuckle, agreeing with you as he adjusted you in his arms, holding you securely. You gazed up at him, your drunken haze giving you a boldness you wouldn’t have had otherwise. 

“Do you think I’m pretty?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes briefly scanning your face. 

“I do,” he admitted, but then added with a teasing smile, “And you’re also drunk, so get to sleep for me, yeah?” You gave a small, tired nod as he carried you into your room. Layla followed closely behind, making sure you didn’t stir up any more drunken confessions. As Trent laid you down gently on the bed, your head spun, but his presence was oddly comforting and igniting wild ideas in your head.

“You’re pretty too,” you mumbled drunkenly as your eyes fluttered open and shut, too tired to see his reaction. Trent smiled to himself, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before stepping back. Layla watched him with a knowing look but didn’t say anything, giving him space to exit quietly but he didn’t. "Laylaaa, the skims," you whined again, your voice slurring as you fumbled with the hem of your top. You were too drunk to manage even that simple task, your arms flailing in frustration. All you wanted was to get out of your clothes and into your favorite pajamas. Layla, herself a bit unsteady but far more sober than you, stumbled toward your dresser, trying to locate the pajamas you always begged for after a night out. 

"Okay, okay, I'm getting them," she muttered, half-laughing as she rifled through the drawer, her own movements slowed by the alcohol. Meanwhile, Trent stood frozen by the door, his eyes catching on the scene before him. You, in your half-dressed, vulnerable state, were peeling your top off over your head, exposing more than you probably realized. His heart raced, and he suddenly found it very hard to look away. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you drunk, not by a long shot. But something about tonight felt different. The way your words had tumbled out earlier, drunk but still sincere— it was all seared into his mind. It wasn't the usual teasing banter he'd come to expect from you. It was raw, unfiltered, and it came directly from you this time, not overheard in the midst of a party not passed along by "T... you can go now," Layla interrupted sharply, snapping him out of his daze. Her voice cut through the fog in his head, reminding him of where he was and that he was dangerously close to crossing a line. She glanced at him with wide eyes and a cheeky grin clearly noticing the tension in the room.

"Uh, yeah, right. Shit, sorry," Trent mumbled, shaking his head like he was trying to clear the thoughts clouding his mind. He turned on his heel, moving toward the door as quickly as he could without looking like he was fleeing. But even as he walked away, the image of you

-tipsy, carefree, peeling off your clothes in front of him-stayed with him. Your tanned smooth skin, the ridge of your spin, the lace of your bra… it was all too much. His mind replayed the way you looked up at him earlier in the night, your gaze soft and inviting, and your words played on a loop in his head. He could still smell the faint hint of your perfume, still feel the crackling tension that had built between you. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his chest. He had to get himself together, or at least pretend to. Back in your room, Layla was still rummaging through the drawers, finally pulling out the set you wanted and tossing it onto the bed.

"Here, now get changed, you lush," she teased, her tone light but her eyes flickering with concern as she glanced at the door Trent had just exited from. You struggled into the pajamas, not noticing the shift in Layla's demeanor, or the way she seemed more aware of the strange charge that had filled the room. She hadn't missed the way Trent's eyes lingered a little too long on you, the way he hesitated as if he were fighting something within himself. "You're a mess, you know that?" Layla laughed, trying to bring the mood back to something light as she flopped down on the bed beside you. You giggled, too drunk to realize what had just happened. 

"But I'm your mess," you teased, hugging a pillow as you settled into the bed. "Mmmm, I want a cuddle," you whined, shifting around in bed, trying to get comfortable grabbing a pillow. You buried your face in the pillow, but it wasn't the comfort you were after. Layla, sitting next to you on the bed, smirked.

"You can cuddle with me," she teased, pulling the blanket over you both and nudging you playfully.

"Nooo, I want a pretty boy," you pouted, your mind already drifting to Trent. You imagined what it would've been like if he hadn't left the room earlier-if he'd stayed, laid down next to you, and pulled you close. Layla raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

"Oh, you mean the pretty boy who carried you upstairs and stared at you while you took your top off?" she teased, wrapping an arm around you and squeezing you tight in a playful hug. You could feel the laughter bubbling up between the two of you. "His nonchalance is such a fucking  gimmick," she continued, shaking her head with amusement. "I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching." You giggled, burying your face in your hands as a warm blush spread over your cheeks. 

"Did he... like my tits?" you asked through a fit of laughter, your voice slurring slightly. A bluntness that was carried by alcohol. Layla chuckled, rolling her eyes. 

"I think so," she said, playfully shaking her head. "Pretty sure that was the highlight of his night."

You both burst into laughter, the room filling with the sound of your drunken giggles as you clung to each other. Even in your tipsy haze, your thoughts kept drifting back to Trent. "Okay, sleep please," Layla begged, her voice tinged with both amusement and exhaustion. "You can suck his dick later," she added with a teasing laugh, trying to reel you back from your wild thoughts. You grinned mischievously, your eyes glinting under the dim light of your room. 

"Mmm, I know it's big," you replied, almost dreamily, your head still spinning from the drinks and the charged energy between you and Trent. Layla groaned, shaking her head with a laugh.

"Y/N! I was kidding.” She laughed. “You're losing your mind! You can't do this to him," she scolded gently, though the smile on her face betrayed her own amusement at the situation. You huffed, trying to justify the tension that had been crackling between you and Trent all night. 

"Maybe he wants it toooo," you insisted, drawing out the last word as if it made the case stronger. You could still feel the weight of his gaze from earlier, the way his hands felt when he carried you upstairs-it was all too real. Layla rolled her eyes, though her expression softened as she looked at you. 

"Doesn't mean it should happen," she cautioned, her tone more serious now. "Jack's your brother, and Trent's his best friend. You're both walking a tightrope, and you might be taking it a little too far." Drunk or not, you knew she was right. Layla knew how much you liked Trent but she also knew how important Jack was to you. The alcohol made it easy to blur the lines, to give in to temptation, but Layla's words lingered in the air, a reminder that there was more at stake than just a one-night fling. As you drifted off to sleep, the night's events began to fade into the haze of alcohol. But for Trent, the feeling lingered. He knew you weren't just Jack's little sister anymore, and tonight had made that painfully clear. He wondered what would happen if you both ever acknowledged what was brewing between you, a tension that seemed to be growing stronger with each passing day.

•

Thank you for reading! I hope you like the beginning of this new series! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what you think is to come!

Next part - Chapter 2 - Bruises xx

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It won’t take you long."

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

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

“Fine,” he grumbled.

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

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

He could just throw it out.

The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

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

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

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

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

It was annoying, unsettling.

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

Silence.

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

Still nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either you’d fallen asleep, or...

“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then it hit you. Y/N.

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

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

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

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

Until now.

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.

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

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

Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess he is.”

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You too." Trent added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting colder,” you commented.

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

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

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

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

“Someone stalking my Insta?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.

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

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

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

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

You looked down, cheeks flushed from the cold - or maybe something else. “When you left my office earlier, you called me by my name.”

Trent pressed his bottom lip up to his top as he thought back. “Pretty sure I’ve said your name before.”

“Not to me,” you said, glancing up at him with a hopeful look.

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so important?”

“Because.. it is,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “To me, it is.”

Trent's muscles relaxed as his eyes roved over your features. “The bar's in hell, huh?”

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, cutting through the chill. You nudged his arm with your hand.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest to trap the heat.

You finally approached Trent’s car, and he turned to you with a nod before pressing the unlock button on his keys.

You watched as he walked closer to his car door and opened it. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by your voice, again.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said, raising your voice slightly to cut through the wind.

Trent's lips twitched, biting his bottom one to hold back from taking any credit. “I didn’t make your coffee.”

“Don’t lie, Trent. It doesn’t suit you." You remarked, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.

For a moment, his eyes stayed on you, lingering with a soft intensity. You held his gaze, feeling an unspoken connection. The seconds stretched on as you both seemed to take in the moment, your heart racing slightly in the charged silence.

Trent eventually looked away, fiddling with the keys in his hand.

“Get out of the way before I run you over." He quipped, his voice lighthearted.

“Charming,” you retorted.

Trent shook his head, getting into his car.

You began walking towards the pedestrian gate, hearing the engine of his car start up as you turned to give him one last glance before starting your short walk home.

...

Part 7

Masterlist

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

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy @witchhkitty222 @mountsgirlsblog

[deartrent]

untold feelings — taa (pt. 1)

summary: you find yourself in a web of secrecy, long-suppressed desires and untold feelings within the buildings of liverpool fc, and it's bound to become a sticky situation

warnings: contains smut (18+, mdni)

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

notes: this is my first time writing smut and posting it, so i'm sorry if it's ass 😭 i'm thinking of adding more parts to this bc ive got some ideas cooking, but let me know what you guys think of this part first!

when you started your new job at liverpool fc as a player care officer, you had no idea what awaited you. all you knew was that you'd be in touch with the players most of the time; your main task literally being their first-line support for every- and anything they wanted and needed.

what you didn't expect though, was getting attached to one particular footballer. he was a man of little words, an introverted, closed off, at first seemingly "asshole"—though that presumption disappeared as you spoke to the guy more often. he was mysterious, a characteristic that ignited your interest in him in the first place. he wasn't your usual outgoing, witless and self-centered footballer, no, instead he kept to himself and only gave well-thought out answers. you tried your best to keep each interaction professional, especially when the news broke out of his new vice captain role, you vowed to not get involved with him, not wanting to be the reason that would put his new role in jeopardy.

you struggled though. the tension was there. you could feel it, he could feel it. if anyone else was in the room, they could feel it too. his eyes would bore into you as you typed away on your computer, logging the information he would give you, his eyes clearly attempting to get a message across. he had no shame in checking you out, scanning every part of your body, before his eyes would meet yours again, a mischievous smirk on his face as he sank further into his chair comfortably, his arms lazily draped along the armrests, his legs spread out.

after a few more appointments and conversations, you noticed him coming out of his shell more. there was no denying that the dynamic between you guys shifted, from a strictly professional one, to a more easygoing and flirty one. when you'd pass each other in the hallways, trent would flash you a cheeky smile, accompanied by a quick wink he made sure only you could see. if the coast was clear, he'd quickly poke your side as he passed, causing you to burst out in giggles. he'd always make sure to pass by your office as well, before heading to training, making sure to wish you a good morning or even bringing you a coffee if time allowed him to.

you enjoyed the secretive thing you had going on with trent, adding a tinge of excitement to your days.

the annual club dinner was the first time you and trent would see each other outside of a professional setting. his eyes never left you that night, observing your every move while simultaneously networking with the people around him, waiting for a moment to catch you alone.

"took you long enough," you joked as you watched him approach you, while you stood at the bar, waiting for your next drink. "were you waiting for me then?" his crossed arms rested on the bar, as he faced forward, allowing you to admire his side profile, "maybe," you shrugged, thanking the barman, before turning to trent once again. though he wasn't very tall, he still towered a little over you, that same cheeky smirk never leaving his face. the tension was unbearable and you knew he felt it too, the presence of his teammates and your colleagues being the only thing stopping you from sharing little touches.

"enjoying yourself?" you asked, looking away from his face as you started feeling nervous under his gaze, "yeah, very much," he let out a chuckle, knowing you were referring to him checking you out, "i'd enjoy it more if i could touch though," trent mumbled, his eyes scanning over the place, the same way yours did.

you were caught by surprise. he'd never verbally expressed what his eyes were insinuating. you never expected him to be so blunt, showing a different side to him than you were used to, "i'm afraid you're just gonna have to stick to looking for now," you tried to play off the feeling that was forming in the pit of your stomach. you wanted to feel his touch just as much as he wanted to touch you, your mind wandering off to the mental images of his body that you'd collected over the past few weeks while observing him in training from the window in your office. "watch out, you might start drooling in a minute," trent joked, amused with his own joke, while you hit his arm with the back of your hand.

you spent the rest of the night flirting back and forth with trent, either through eye contact or subtle touches as you'd pass each other. the night slowly came to an end and trent made sure to check up on you one more time.

"do you want me to drive you home?" trent asked, a hint of hope in his eyes that you'd say yes. you looked around for a second, "i already had a ride, but i don't mind going with you," although your facial expression would never give it away, you felt more nervous with each second passing, the realisation settling in that soon you'd be completely alone with trent.

while trent drove you home, the tension that had built up over the past few weeks only rose. one thing led to another and before you knew it, trent was reclined in the driver's seat, while you had both legs on each side of him. you'd been waiting for this exact moment, to feel his voluptuous and soft lips on yours, savouring every second you spent tasting his mouth. your lips wrapped around his bottom lip, tugging a little as trent's eyes shot closed, his large hands carefully placed on your hips, squeezing them ever so softly. beneath you, you could feel trent grow. seeing him melt under your touch drove you insane, the combination of his shut eyes, parted lips and hushed moans making you feel something you had never felt before.

trent's hands found their way around your back, unzipping the dress you picked with him in mind, as he slowly shed you of your clothing. his fingers eagerly unclasped your bra and as your eyes locked for a split second, you noticed just how hungry he was for you. your dress sat bunched up around your waist, your panties exposed, while your bra was lost somewhere in the car. trent's fingers played with your nipples, an unfamiliar sensation shooting through your body, only trent's touch having that effect on you, "trent," you tried to mumble, his lips never leaving yours, as though he was making up for the past few weeks of depriving him of your touch.

trent's hands roamed around your body, grabbing a handful of your ass, as you leaked more fluid all over your panties. you needed to feel him and you needed to make it clear to him, so as you finally let go of his lips, you cupped his face with your hands, holding him close as you whispered against his swollen lips, "i need you to fuck me like you've never fucked anyone before," those words leaving your mouth made trent go feral, unbuckling and pulling his pants down with one swift motion, the only barrier between your skin and his being your panties and his boxers. your hands wrapped around the elastic band, pulling the boxers down as his cock sprung free, resting against his stomach.

"fuck," you whispered against his lips, your pussy throbbing, yearning to be filled up. trent wasted no time, holding your panties to the side with one hand, while the other slid against your folds, spreading the moisture across his fingers before pumping his cock in his hands a few times. trent lined himself up with your entrance, the moment you both had silently been waiting for finally here. your hands rested on his broad shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. picking up your pace, trent was losing his mind and you could tell. his head fell back against the headrest, his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you through your movements. "fucking hell," he cursed, burying his cock deep inside, hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible, your moans getting louder.

you knew he was close from how sloppy each thrust had become, his breathing getting deeper and quicker. you lifted yourself off of him without a warning, his eyes lazily following your every move, high off of the ride you just gave him. you moved back to the passenger's seat, sitting on your knees as you wrapped both hands around his cock, leaving a trail of spit on his tip as you moved up and down as fast as you could, driving him to his climax. cum leaked all over your fingers, while trent cursed under his breath. your mind clouded by feelings of lust and desire, you brought your fingers up to your lips, licking them off as though you'd just finished a meal. trent chuckled as he crashed down from his high, his thumb caressing your cheek, "won't lie, i didn't expect all that from you, ms. wanna keep things professional," he joked, your cheeks heating up at his remark.

the night continued for a while, you'd moved to the backseat, lying on your back as trent supported himself on top of you. with your legs up, resting on trent's shoulders, he slammed into you, your cries being heard from outside the car. "fuc-" you choked on your moans, trent's name leaving your lips, warning him that you were close. trent watched your eyes roll back, his thumb circling between your folds, stimulating your clit, while his thrusts became deeper and slower, "fuck, fuck, fuck," your legs trembled, your body shuddering against trent as you held onto his muscular arms, as he unloaded another load inside of you.

the car felt hot by the end, your sweaty body on top of trent's as you laid your head on his shoulder, one of your hands resting on his exposed chest. the silence cleared your mind enough to think about what had just happened. you had no idea how you went from fighting to get a word out of trent to lying on top of him naked, vulnerable and fucked out in his car, parked in front of your place. if you had any energy left in you, you'd be stressing about how you were supposed to go back to work and pretend like nothing had happened—at least that's what you were planning on doing.

you knew you crossed a line you shouldn't have, you felt regret as you looked up at trent whose eyes were shut, his breathing steady and calm. you wondered what was going through his mind, if he was thinking the same as you, and if the weight of concealing the intimacy between you both laid as heavily on his heart as it did on yours.

[jude5bellingham]

imsg ౨ৎ trent alexander-arnold

[srngrque]

whispers of love.

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff trent who is yours, yours and yours.

Trent looked more astonishing under the sunlight that gleamed through the curtain that did not fully shade your room. He was sleeping on his stomach as his arm was wrapped around you; with the same sleeping position, you only slept a few inches away but you fully felt the warmth that oozed out from his presence.

In his strong arm, you settled perfectly like a puzzle that found its piece, like you were meant to be in his arm. You leaned his head slightly forward to glance at your man who had been sleeping peacefully. Not helping yourself, you gawked at your lover. Your heart ached at the way he had a small pout formed, his thick lips looking more kissable. You had a small smile gracing your face; letting your eyes linger around the long eyelashes that touched his skin.

It only longed you for his doe dark brown eyes to look at you.

You cooed softly, eyes softening at the man who is an extravagant footballer in the eyes of the public, but as the curtain closed, he was just a man who you are immensely in love with, who is your man.

Before you could shake Trent awake, he rubbed his eyes as he slowly stretched his arms briefly to hold you tighter; you laughed as you could almost lay your whole body on top of Trent. Without looking, you knew his face hung with a lazy smile that reached his eyes.

"Slept good?" You asked gently. Slipping away from his grip, you grabbed a random jersey of Trent that was on the floor. He groaned loudly as he used your pillow as leverage to stare at you having him completely whipped.

Trent eyed you moving to his side to sit at the edge of the bed, next to him. "What do you want for dinner?" He asked reaching his arms wide open for you to cuddle him. You considered thinking of a few meals that are worth making or, you could just force Trent to go back to sleep with you.

But you have already gotten out of bed after being lazy for the whole day. In the utter silence, Trent observed you with his soft eyes glancing at every part that he has kissed, adored, and loved earnestly.

You had settled at the edge of the bed next to him, with no words exchanged. You danced your fingertips on his face, your eyes twinkling in adoration for the love of your life; while Trent lay in silence letting you do whatever you want.

He snaked his arm around your waist to move you forward. "You know what you are?" He asked hoarsely after waking up, his hot breath hitting your skin. You giggled, Trent never failed to amuse you with his thick scouser accent that you have grown to understand being around him and his family.

Your hand tightens its grip on his shoulder, raising your eyebrows. "The best thing that has ever happened to you." You lightly tapped the tip of his nose, jokingly. Trent laughed loudly throwing his whole body on the bed. Annoyingly you smacked his chest, "But I am." You persistent, obviously.

He nodded. Trent calmed himself down, "You are, baby. You are."

With that, the room fell into silence again. Your apartment was still new as you just moved in, so the soft curtains were not helping that was shining bright where Trent kept squinting his eyes.

You straddled on his hip, "Is the sunlight bothering you, sir?" You dramatically shielded his eyes away from the sunlight. Trent chuckled, his thick hand running under your (his) jersey. He smoothly ran his fingertips on your naked back as you gasped at his touch.

"Why? Are you going to protect me from it?" He challenged, raising his eyebrows in question. Your whole heart swam in love as you found yourself loving his face once again. Trent did look the most beautiful waking up just next to you, completely fazed out. You threw your head back, "You know I will be protecting you from anything in this world, baby." You confessed, your tone barely hiding the vulnerability of how honest each word was that traveled through your lips.

"You are my girl," Trent established, "right?"

"I am," You pecked his left cheek. "I am," You pecked his right cheek. "I am your girl." You peppered gently kisses all over his face.

"I love you too, now please cook some food for me." He groaned as his stomach rumbled. You laughed, detaching yourself away from him. You made your way toward the kitchen, knowing it would be him cooking, and you would be sitting on the counter watching him cook.

But really, you do not mind living like this for a lifetime.

[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

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER TWO

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 8k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving or staying. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — this is actually the saddest thing i've ever written 😭 let me know your thoughts!

masterlist

the week following their fight had dragged on painfully, the weight of their last argument hanging heavily over y/n’s every moment. the once lively house had turned cold, empty in a way that felt unbearable. her days were slow, marked by nausea and exhaustion that compounded her emotional turmoil. trent’s calls came daily, but each time her phone buzzed, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. the sound of his voice would be too much, too raw. she couldn’t face him, not after the things he’d said.

her body ached with fatigue, the pregnancy symptoms adding to the emotional toll. mornings were spent hugging the toilet, afternoons lying in bed, the familiar weight of loneliness pressing against her chest. she couldn’t shake the image of trent’s face during their fight, the words he had thrown at her still ringing in her ears. she had never felt so far from him, so distant from the man she loved.

today, the phone buzzed again. trent’s name flashed on the screen, and for the first time in days, she hesitated. her heart raced as she picked up the phone, pressing it to her ear with shaky hands.

"y/n?" his voice was soft, hesitant, like he feared she might hang up before he could finish. "i’ve been trying to reach you... i—i just need to know how you’re feeling. how, uh... how’s—"

his voice faltered, and she knew he was trying to avoid saying it. her chest tightened, the anger bubbling up inside her. “go ahead,” she snapped, cutting him off. “say it. it's a baby, trent. you can say it.”

there was a pause on the other end, a heavy silence before he finally spoke again, his voice low and strained. “i know... i’m sorry. i just—how far along are you?”

her voice was clipped, raw, when she finally spoke. "i’m eight weeks."

trent inhaled sharply, and she could almost hear the gears turning in his head, the pause stretching out as he processed her words. when he finally spoke, his voice wavered, caught somewhere between disbelief and realization. "eight weeks... that’s... that’s the same weekend i proposed, isn’t it? when we were on vacation..."

before he could finish, y/n cut him off, her voice sharp, a bitter edge to her tone. "yeah, you proposed and then got me pregnant with a baby you’re not even interested in keeping, right?"

trent’s breath caught, and she could hear the shock in his silence. he wasn’t ready for the anger, the bitterness in her tone. “y/n, i didn’t... i didn’t mean for it to come out like that. i’m sorry, i’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you.”

her eyes stung with unshed tears, the hurt threatening to spill over. “why so you can tell how i’m not ready again? it’s not just about talking, trent,” she said, her voice trembling. “you made me feel like our child—like i—was a mistake. you talked about options like you didn’t care. you acted like this baby wasn’t even real.”

“no, that’s not true,” trent interjected, his voice breaking with urgency. “i was overwhelmed, and i said things i didn’t mean. i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. i want this, y/n. i want you. i want our baby. i know i messed up, but please, let me make this right.”

y/n’s heart twisted, the pain too raw, too fresh. “you can’t just take back what you said,” she snapped, her voice rising. “you can’t just say you want this now and expect everything to be okay. you made me feel like our child and i were something you could discard.”

trent’s voice cracked with emotion, and y/n could hear the strain in his words. “i know, and i hate myself for saying it. i hate that i made you feel like that. i wasn’t thinking straight, but i want to make it better. i want to be there for you and our baby. just tell me what i can do. please, y/n.”

the desperation in his voice cut through her anger, but it didn’t dull the hurt. “you can’t just fix this with an apology,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “i don’t know if i can trust you anymore. you wanted to end this, trent. how am i supposed to believe that you’ve changed you’re mind overnight?”

“i have changed my mind,” trent’s voice broke with the weight of his words. “i’ve been thinking about nothing else since that day. i’m begging you, y/n, please come back. come home. let me show you that i mean it, that i want to be there for you and for our child.”

y/n shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “it’s not that easy. you made me feel like a burden, like something you regretted. how am i supposed to just... forget that?”

trent’s breath hitched, his voice heavy with guilt. “i know i can’t take back what i said, but i can show you that i’m committed to you. to us. i’m scared too, but i want this, y/n. i want us.”

her heart wavered, the defenses she had built up over the past week beginning to crack. “i don’t know if i can believe you,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “i’m so scared, trent. i’m scared of losing you, and i’m scared of what this means for us.”

“you’re not going to lose me,” trent’s voice was firm, despite the emotion choking him. “i’m here, y/n. i’m not going anywhere. i want to be a father. i want to be the man you need me to be. please, come home. we’ll figure this out together.”

her heart twisted painfully at his words, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. she wanted to believe him, wanted to feel the security she once had in their relationship, but the scars from their fight were still fresh.

“you really hurt me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know how to move past that.”

trent’s voice was quiet but filled with determination. “i know. and i’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. but i can’t do it if you’re not here with me. please, y/n, come home.”

her breath hitched, the emotion too much to hold back any longer. “i don’t know,” she said, her voice breaking. “i don’t know if i can.”

the line went quiet for a moment, the weight of their words hanging between them. finally, trent spoke, his voice soft, vulnerable. “i need you. i need our baby. please, don’t let this be the end.”

y/n pressed her hand against her belly, feeling the flutter of life growing inside her. the love she had for trent was still there, buried beneath the hurt, but it wasn’t enough to erase the pain. still, the thought of a future without him was unbearable.

“i’ll think about it,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “but i can’t promise anything.”

trent’s sigh of relief was audible, the weight of the conversation lifting, if only slightly. “that’s all i ask,” he said softly. “i’ll wait as long as it takes. i love you, y/n.”

with a shuddering breath, y/n ended the call. her body shook with sobs, the weight of everything overwhelming her. she looked down at her growing belly, a mixture of hope and fear swirling within her. the future was uncertain, but for now, she needed to heal, to find her way back to herself before she could decide what the next step would be.

the sky had darkened by the time trent arrived at y/n’s london home, heavy clouds gathering overhead like the tension that had been building between them for months. he stood at the door, shoulders hunched, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he rang the bell. the weight of what he was about to face made him feel sick.

y/n’s mother opened the door, her eyes filled with a somber understanding. “trent,” she greeted softly, stepping aside. “i am glad you came she needs you. she’s in the backyard. but listen, y/n’s been... different. her hormones are making things harder that expected. just be patient with her, okay?”

he nodded, the shame weighing heavily on his chest, every step toward the backyard feeling like walking deeper into the mess he'd made. his eyes found her sitting there, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, her shoulders slumped as their dog rested by her side. she hadn’t noticed him yet, and for a moment, he stood still, letting himself absorb the sight of her—really absorb it. two weeks without her had felt like a lifetime. she looked tired, worn in a way that hurt him more than he could say. her presence was so deeply ingrained in his life that without her, it was like trying to breathe with half his heart missing.

when she finally glanced up, her expression hit him harder than any of their fights. her eyes, once so warm and welcoming, held a cold distance, something he’d never seen from her. she stood slowly, brushing off her pants, the movement stiff, like the weight of everything between them was too much to bear. 

"you came," she muttered, her voice sharp and cutting through the silence. there was a bite to her words that stung him more than he’d expected.

trent swallowed, his throat tight as he took a step closer, though everything about her screamed that she wasn’t ready to let him in. her face was softer than he'd imagined, yet hardened by the lines of exhaustion and hurt. the sight of her, standing there, made the void in his chest ache even more. “i needed to talk to you. y/n, i—i’m so sorry.”

he couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t stop noticing how every detail of her had been seared into his life. the way her hair fell, the way she stood, even the way she avoided his gaze—it all felt like home, a home he wasn’t sure he deserved anymore.

her eyes narrowed, bitterness creeping into her tone. “sorry?” she echoed, her voice tight. “do you think that’s enough? after everything, ‘sorry’ is supposed to fix this?”

“no,” trent said quickly, his voice cracking. “i know it’s not enough. i’ve been... i’ve been distant, i know that. but i love you, y/n. you know that.”

her eyes blazed, and she took a step closer. “no,” she said, her voice firm, trembling with emotion. “i don’t know, trent. i don’t know if you love me. because if you did, you would’ve noticed that we’ve been falling apart.”

his heart clenched painfully. “i noticed,” he murmured. “of course i did. i just... i didn’t know how to fix it.”

“you didn’t even try,” she shot back, her voice rising. “the romance stopped, the touches stopped. we haven’t even been together, not really—not intimately, not emotionally. you come home, and it’s like i don’t even exist. weeks, trent. i waited weeks for you to let me in, to tell me what was going on. and you didn’t.”

he couldn’t meet her gaze, guilt clawing at him. “i know, y/n, i know. i’ve failed you. i’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, in everything, that i shut you out. but i want to change. i need to change.”

“you don’t get it,” she said, her voice breaking, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “i’ve felt like a stranger in my own home, trent. you stopped seeing me. and now, with this baby—this should’ve brought us closer, but all it did was push you further away.”

her words hit him like a tidal wave. “y/n, please,” he begged, stepping toward her. “i see you. i see you now. i know i’ve been a mess, but i swear, i’m here now. for you, for the baby. i’ll make it right.”

she shook her head, her tears spilling over. “how, trent? how can you make this right? you can’t take back what you said. you didn’t just hurt me—you made me feel like nothing. like we were nothing. you didn’t even want this baby.”

his breath caught in his throat. “that’s not true,” he whispered, desperate. “i was scared, i didn’t know how to deal with it. but i want this, y/n. i want you. i want our family.”

her expression twisted, a mix of pain and disbelief. “then why did you push me away? why did you never let me all the way in? why did you make this baby feel like a burden? like i was alone in this?”

he was at a loss for words. his chest tightened, and for the first time in a long time, he felt utterly powerless. “i’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought i was protecting you. i didn’t want to drag you into everything I was feeling, but... i see now that all i did was hurt you.”

her sobs grew heavier, and she covered her face with her hands. “you hurt me so much, trent,” she whispered. “you shut me out for months, it’s like i can’t even recognize you.”

trent reached for her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. “don’t,” she choked out. “don’t touch me. i can’t... i can’t do this right now.”

the space between them felt insurmountable. “y/n,” trent whispered, tears welling in his own eyes. “please. i’m begging you, baby. i’ll do anything. just tell me what to do, and i’ll do it.”

her voice was barely audible, broken and raw. “i don’t know if there’s anything left to fix.”

y/n turned away already feeling the toll in her heart from the concvration setting in. it was too much; seeing him was a mistake. she had to go. trent stood there in stunned silence as y/n’s retreating form blurred through his unshed tears. everything inside him screamed to do something—anything—to stop her from walking away, from taking the last piece of his heart with her. his hands, trembling with desperation, shot out before he could stop himself, pulling her back into his arms.

“don’t say that,” he begged, his voice thick with emotion. “please, don’t give up on us.”

y/n’s body stiffened at first, but then, as if she’d been holding herself together for far too long, she melted against him. her resolve crumbled, her body sagging in his embrace, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself feel the weight of everything—the hurt, the exhaustion, the loneliness. she buried her face into his chest, sobbing quietly, her tears soaking through his shirt. they stood there, wrapped in a desperate embrace, both of them breaking and holding on at the same time.

trent’s arms tightened around her as if he was afraid that if he let go, she’d slip through his fingers, and this would all be over. “i love you, y/n,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “i love you so much. i’ve never stopped.”

the words tumbled out of him like a prayer, repeated over and over again, as if saying them enough times would make everything better. his lips brushed her ear, his breath shaky, “please, baby… please. don’t leave me.”

for a moment, it was as if time had stopped. they clung to each other, the world around them dissolving into the background. but even as they stood there, desperately seeking comfort in each other’s arms, the pain was still there—deep and raw, a wound that refused to heal.

y/n’s sobs quieted, and she slowly pulled away, just enough to look up at him. her tear-streaked face was a mixture of love and anguish, her eyes searching his, as if looking for a reason to believe that this could be fixed. but then, with trembling fingers, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the engagement ring. the sight of it in her palm shattered trent all over again.

“i can’t wear this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “not now. not like this.”

trent’s heart twisted painfully, his throat constricting as he stared at the small, glinting band—the symbol of everything they had promised each other. his hands shook as he gently took the ring from her, the cold metal feeling heavy in his palm. he felt like he was losing a part of himself all over again.

“i’ll wait for you,” he said, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “i’ll wait as long as it takes, y/n. i’m in love with you. i’m always going to be in love with you.”

he paused, his breath shaky as he searched for the right words, his heart pounding in his chest. “i’m in love with the girl who stayed up with me after games, even when i was too tired to talk. i’m in love with the girl who laughs at my worst jokes, who knows me better than i know myself. i’m in love with the woman who’s carrying our child—the strongest, most beautiful woman i’ve ever known. you’re everything to me. and i know i messed up. i know i pushed you away, but i swear to god, y/n, through it all, i never stopped loving you.”

his voice cracked, and he let out a shaky breath, the weight of his words sinking between them. “i’ll wait no matter how long it takes. because i can’t lose you. not like this.”

y/n’s eyes welled with fresh tears, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. she wiped her face with trembling hands, her body wracked with the weight of everything she’d been holding in. “i don’t know how we got here,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. “i thought it would pass. that you’d wake up and see me but that day never came. i don’t even know how to find my way back.”

the silence between them was thick, suffocating. trent’s chest felt heavy, like the air itself was pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe. he could see it—the breaking point, the moment he had feared for so long, just inches away. the more he tried to hold on, the more she seemed to slip from his grasp.

he reached for her again, his hands trembling as they cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks. “we can find our way back,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “we have to.”

but even as he said it, he could feel the distance between them, the invisible wall that had grown between their hearts over the last few months. the intimacy, the connection they once shared—it had been stripped away, layer by layer, until there was barely anything left.

“you stopped trying,” she said, her voice soft but cutting, her words like knives to his already battered heart. “you came home and shut me out, trent. i was begging you to let me in, to tell me what was going on, but you just... you weren’t there. and i waited. i waited all this time for you to let me in, but you didn’t.”

trent swallowed the lump in his throat, the weight of her words sinking in. she was right. he had shut her out, buried himself in his own pain, his own confusion, and left her alone when she needed him most.

“i thought... if i could just fix myself, if i could figure it out on my own, then... then i could be better for you,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “but i see now... i was wrong. i should have let you in. i should have trusted you.”

y/n’s lips trembled, her eyes filled with a sadness that tore him apart. “we haven’t even... we haven’t even been us for months,” she whispered. “the touches, the love... it just stopped. we don’t even spend time together anymore. we haven’t had sex, we barely talk... we’ve been falling apart, trent, and you didn’t even notice.”

trent’s breath hitched,” i wan’t to fix us but i want to. i need to,”he whispered, his voice breaking

y/n shook her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “it’s not just about fixing it. it’s about wanting to be here. wanting to be with me. and i don’t know if you still do.”

trent’s chest ached, his heart shattering under the weight of her pain. “i do. god, y/n, i do. more than anything. i want to be here, with you. i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done, for how i made you feel. i swear, i’m going to make this right.”

but as he said the words, as he looked into her tear-filled eyes, he couldn’t help but feel that it might already be too late. the cracks had formed, the damage done, and no matter how much he wanted to put the pieces back together, he couldn’t ignore the fear gnawing at him—that this might be the end.

y/n let out a shaky breath, stepping back from him, her body trembling with exhaustion and emotion. “i don’t know if i can do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

trent’s heart sank. he stepped forward, his hands reaching for hers, but she pulled them back, holding them close to her chest. he felt the distance growing between them, widening with every passing second, and he was powerless to stop it.

“please,” he begged, his voice thick with desperation. “don’t give up on us. not yet.”

for a moment, y/n stood there, her tear-streaked face filled with a mix of love and pain. then, slowly, she shook her head, her voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “but i don’t know if i have anything left to give.”

trent’s world crumbled around him as she turned away, walking back into the house, leaving him standing there in the fading light, holding the engagement ring that no longer held the promise it once did. the storm in the sky above mirrored the storm inside him, and as the first raindrop fell, trent realized he had never felt more lost in his life.

y/n sat curled up on the couch beside her mom, her head resting against her shoulder as they both wrapped themselves in a thick blanket. the warmth of the fireplace crackled in front of them, casting a soft glow over the room. her mom absentmindedly stroked y/n’s hair, a gesture she had done ever since y/n was a child. it was comforting, but no amount of comfort seemed to wash away the heaviness that had settled in y/n’s chest.

"i remember when i was pregnant with you,” her mom began, her voice soft and nostalgic. “i couldn’t stop eating pickles. your father would joke that you’d come out with a sour face." she chuckled, shaking her head at the memory. “and when you started kicking, you didn’t stop. it was like you were determined to make your presence known even then.”

y/n smiled weakly, the story a welcome distraction, but her thoughts kept drifting back to trent. it had been a few days since their conversation, and though they’d exchanged texts here and there, something felt broken—like there was a wall between them now that hadn’t been there before.

her mum, always so intuitive, seemed to sense the weight on y/n’s heart. she paused, her hand stilling in y/n’s hair. “how are things with trent? really?”

y/n hesitated, biting her lip as she glanced down at her hands. “it… it didn’t go well.” her voice was barely above a whisper. “it hasn’t been good for a while now. i just don’t think he loves me anymore.”

her mum sighed softly, turning slightly so she could look at her daughter. “y/n, i’ve seen that boy with you from the very beginning. the day you brought him home, i knew he was head over heels in love with you. he looked at you like you were his entire world.”

y/n’s throat tightened, her voice cracking as she spoke. “but it doesn’t feel like that anymore, mom. he doesn’t want me… hasn’t for months.”

her mum shook her head gently, cupping y/n’s cheek in her palm. “you’re crazy if you think that. i saw the way he looked at you when he showed up here the other day. that same love is still there, y/n. he might be struggling, but he still breathes for you. trust me, i’ve been around long enough to know what real love looks like. and that boy? he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he’s still trying.”

y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling her mom’s words sink in, but the doubt remained. “it doesn’t feel like it. i’m scared, mum. what if… what if i’m too much for him? what if this is too much for us?”

her mum’s expression softened as she kissed the top of y/n’s head. “you’re not too much. sometimes love gets hard, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone. give it time, give him time. you two will find your way.”

as her mom’s words settled, y/n felt her thoughts drift back to trent. she missed him—the way his presence grounds her, how his laugh could cut through the heaviest silences, and the comfort of his touch, always able to chase away her worries. maybe, just maybe, her mom was right. maybe he was struggling just as much as she was. maybe, despite everything, he still loved her. maybe that love hadn’t gone away, even if it felt lost.

the thought stirred something inside her, a small, hesitant hope. the weight of their distance was still there, but for the first time in a while, y/n felt an urge to reach out, to close that space between them, if only for a moment.

a few weeks had passed since their emotional confrontation in the backyard. the days had been a blur of adjusting to her new reality, both physically and emotionally. y/n had begun to show the faintest signs of pregnancy, a small but unmistakable curve starting to form. each morning, she would stare at her reflection, running a hand over her belly, a mixture of awe and anxiety washing over her.

it was early afternoon when y/n picked up her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed trent’s number. It had been a while since she’d reached out first, and she was unsure how to navigate this new step. trent answered on the second ring, his voice a comforting blend of surprise and relief.

“hey, bab- y/n,” trent corrected, trying to keep his tone steady. “i wasn’t expecting your call.”

“i know,” y/n replied, her voice soft and cautious. “i just wanted to hear your voice. i figured it was time to talk.”

trent’s heart skipped a beat. “i am glad you did. i told i'd wait for you. how are you? how’s everything going?”

there was a brief pause on the line, and y/n’s voice wavered slightly. “i’m… okay. the baby’s growing. i’ve been taking it one day at a time.”

“that’s good to hear,” trent said, his concern evident. “i’ve been thinking about you and the baby a lot. i want to be involved, you know, if you’ll let me.”

“please, y/n,” trent pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. “come home. let me take care of you and the baby. i’ll do everything in my power to make things right. i just want to be there for you.”

“i know,” y/n replied quietly. “i’ve been thinking about that too. i’m still not ready to come back home yet. there’s a lot I need to work through, but maybe… maybe you could come to one of my appointments when you’re in london for the fulham match?”

trent’s response was immediate, his relief palpable. “i’d love to. just tell me when and where, and i’ll be there. i want to be there for you and the baby.”

y/n hesitated, her heart racing with the implications of their upcoming meeting. “it’s next week. i’ll send you the details once it’s confirmed.”

“thank you,” trent said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “it means a lot to me that you’re giving me this chance. i just want to be there for both of you.”

“i appreciate that,” y/n replied, her voice wavering with emotion. “i’m still figuring things out, but having you there… it might help.”

“i understand,” trent said softly. “i’ll be there, y/n. and if you need anything before then, just let me know. i’m here for you.”

they exchanged a few more words before ending the call, the conversation a tentative step towards mending their fractured relationship. as y/n hung up the phone, she felt a mixture of apprehension and hope. the prospect of seeing trent at her appointment was both comforting and daunting, a symbol of the possibility of healing.

in the days leading up to the appointment, y/n continued with her routine, her emotions a complex blend of anticipation and fear. She prepared herself mentally for the upcoming visit, knowing that seeing trent again would be a significant step.

trent arrived at the clinic much earlier than expected, a mix of anticipation and nervousness driving him. he paced the waiting area, glancing at his watch every few minutes, his mind racing with thoughts of y/n and their baby. he was determined not to miss the appointment, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful y/n looked, even in the midst of their struggles.

as he stood by the entrance, he saw y/n walking in, her face a mixture of apprehension and hope. she spotted him and raised an eyebrow. “you’re here early. don’t you have training before the match tomorrow?”

trent smiled, his eyes softening as he took in her presence. “i left early. nothing is more important to me than being here for you and our baby.”

y/n’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, and she walked over to him. “thanks you for coming. it means a lot.”

trent nodded, his gaze fixed on her as they walked together towards the examination room. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

inside the examination room, the doctor greeted them warmly, her smile reassuring. “hello, y/n. and you must be trent. it’s lovely to meet you. i’m glad you could join us today.”

“nice to meet you,” trent replied, shaking the doctor’s hand. “i’m glad to be here.”

the doctor turned to y/n, her demeanor professional yet friendly. “so, y/n, how have you been feeling? any concerns or symptoms you’d like to discuss before we get started?”

y/n took a deep breath, her eyes flickering to trent’s face. “i’ve been struggling with nausea every morning. it’s relentless and makes it hard to get through the day. i can’t keep much down—anything that’s remotely greasy or rich just comes right back up. sometimes, even the smell of certain foods makes me sick. and it’s not just the mornings. i’ve been feeling dizzy and lightheaded at random times, and my energy levels are really low. i’ve been so exhausted, barely able to get out of bed some days.”

her voice trembled slightly as she continued. “i’ve also been experiencing mood swings that seem to come out of nowhere. one moment i’m fine, and the next, i’m crying over something trivial. it’s exhausting. i’ve been trying to manage, but it’s hard.”

trent’s heart ached as he listened. each word she spoke painted a clearer picture of the struggles she faced, struggles he hadn’t fully understood until now. he squeezed her hand gently, his eyes filled with concern. “i had no idea it was this tough for you,” he said softly. “i’m so sorry for not being there for you. i should have been more aware of what you’re going through.”

the doctor nodded, her expression sympathetic. “these symptoms are quite common in the first trimester, but that doesn’t make them any easier. it’s important to take care of yourself and manage these symptoms as best as you can.”

as y/n prepared for the ultrasound, trent’s heart pounded with a mix of excitement and anxiety. he watched as she lay down on the examination table, her face a portrait of vulnerability and hope. trent took a seat beside her, holding her hand tightly.

the room grew quiet as the doctor began the ultrasound. trent’s eyes were fixed on the screen, his breath catching in his throat as the image of their baby appeared. he could see the tiny, fluttering heartbeat, and the realization hit him with overwhelming force.

trent’s eyes filled with tears as he watched the screen, his hand squeezing y/n’s reassuringly. “this is… incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

as the doctor played the heartbeat sound, trent felt his heart swell. the rhythmic thud of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, a powerful reminder of the life growing inside y/n. trent leaned over and gently kissed y/n’s hand, his lips brushing against her skin with tenderness.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice breaking as he kissed her forehead and cheeks. “thank you for this, for our baby. i’m so grateful.”

y/n’s eyes filled with tears, her heart aching at the sight of trent’s raw emotion. “i’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

trent’s internal thoughts were a whirlwind of realization and regret. he thought about the pain he had caused y/n, the mistakes he had made. but as he looked at their baby, he felt a glimmer of hope. this tiny life represented a chance for redemption, a new beginning for their fractured relationship.

he thought to himself, i’ve been so consumed by my own fears and doubts. but this baby… this baby has the power to heal us, to breathe life back into our world. i can’t undo the past, but i can start anew. i need to be the father this child deserves, the husband y/n needs. i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.

as the ultrasound concluded and the doctor began discussing the next steps, trent’s heart was lighter than it had been in weeks. he felt a renewed sense of purpose, a determination to be there for y/n and their child, no matter the challenges ahead.

trent sat in the passenger seat, the ultrasound photos clutched tightly in his hand, his eyes glued to the images as if they held the answers to all the questions swirling in his mind. the car ride had been quiet, the tension between them palpable yet softened by the shared experience they had just gone through. y/n kept her eyes on the road, but she could feel his gaze shift from the photos to her every now and then, as if trying to reconcile the reality of what they had just witnessed with everything that had happened between them.

when they finally pulled into the driveway of her parents' house, neither of them made a move to get out. the engine hummed quietly, filling the heavy silence between them. trent swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. he couldn’t take his eyes off the ultrasound photos, the grainy black-and-white images of their baby—their baby—so small, yet so real. he was still in shock, the weight of the moment pressing down on him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

“it’s real,” trent finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “that’s... that’s our baby.”

y/n glanced at him, her heart clenching at the look of wonder and disbelief on his face. “yeah,” she replied softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of emotions she wasn’t sure she was ready to face. “it’s real.”

trent turned to her, his eyes searching her face for something he wasn’t sure he’d find. “y/n, i don’t want to argue anymore,” he said, his voice thick with sincerity. “i don’t want us to keep hurting each other like this. i want to be there for you, for our baby. i want to fight for us, not against us.”

her heart fluttered at his words, but the hurt still lingered, like a shadow that refused to be dispelled by the light. “it’s not that simple, trent,” y/n said, her voice steady but laced with the pain she had carried for weeks. “you can’t just say you’re ready to fight for us now and expect everything to be okay. you hurt me. you pushed me away when i needed you the most.”

trent’s face crumpled, the weight of her words hitting him like a blow. he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand gently on top of hers. “i know i messed up,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “i was scared, y/n. i didn’t know how to handle any of this, and i panicked. but that doesn’t mean i don’t love you. it doesn’t mean i don’t want this—want you, want our baby.”

y/n felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let herself fall into the same pattern they had been stuck in for so long. “love isn’t just about words, trent. it’s about showing up, even when it’s hard, even when you’re scared. it’s about trusting each other, being honest, and not shutting down when things get tough.”

trent squeezed her hand, his grip firm yet gentle. “i know,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “i know i have to do better. i want to do better. i want to be the man you deserve, the father our child deserves. i don’t want to lose you, y/n. please, just... give me a chance to make things right.”

y/n looked at him, her heart torn between the love she still felt for him and the pain that had taken root in its place. she wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he could be the partner she needed, but the fear of getting hurt again held her back. “i’m scared too, trent,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “i’m scared that things won’t change, that we’ll just keep going around in circles until there’s nothing left. i need to know that you’re really committed to this, to us.”

trent’s eyes bore into hers, his determination clear despite the vulnerability etched into his features. “i am, y/n. i’m committed to you, to our baby, to our future. i don’t have all the answers, and i know it won’t be easy, but i’m not going to give up. not on you, not on us.”

the silence that followed was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of their past and the uncertainty of their future. y/n could feel the intensity of his gaze, could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the doubts still lingered, a barrier she wasn’t sure she was ready to break down.

“we have a lot to figure out,” y/n finally said, her voice soft but resolute. “this isn’t something that’s going to be fixed overnight. we need to take it one step at a time, trent. we need to rebuild the trust that we lost.”

trent nodded, his expression earnest. “i’m ready to do whatever it takes,” he said quietly. “i know it’s going to take time, but i’m here for the long haul. i want to be the partner you need, y/n. i want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

y/n looked down at their intertwined hands, the connection between them a reminder of what they had shared, what they had lost, and what they might still have a chance to rebuild. she wasn’t ready to fully forgive, to fully trust, but there was a part of her—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe in the possibility of a future where they could find their way back to each other.

“okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “we’ll take it one step at a time.”

trent’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he squeezed her hand once more, the gesture filled with unspoken promises. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “thank you for giving us a chance.”

as they sat there in the quiet of the car, the weight of their conversation hanging between them, y/n felt a small flicker of hope begin to take root. it wasn’t much, and it wasn’t enough to erase the pain of the past, but it was something—a starting point, a tentative step toward healing.

and for now, that was enough.

the drive back to y/n’s parents’ house was heavy with unspoken words, both of them lost in the aftermath of the ultrasound. the image of their baby lingered in the back of their minds—so real, so undeniably present—and it had stirred something neither of them could yet put into words. there was a fragile connection between them now, one built on shared responsibility, but also the unresolved weight of the past.

when they arrived at the quiet house, y/n hesitated before opening the door, her steps slower than usual. everything inside felt still, untouched, a sharp contrast to the storm that had been swirling around them for weeks. she led trent inside, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable—just… fragile.

in the living room, she stopped, turning to face him, her expression soft but unreadable. she folded her arms across her chest, almost as if to shield herself from what was coming next. “i don’t know where we go from here,” she whispered, voice barely above a murmur.

trent stood just a few feet away, hands deep in his pockets, unsure of how to bridge the gap between them. he wanted to say something, anything, to make her believe in him again, but every time he opened his mouth, the words caught in his throat.

he could see the hesitation in her eyes, the lingering hurt. “i don’t either,” he admitted, his voice quiet, but certain. “but i know i don’t want to go back to where we were. i don’t want to lose you, y/n. i love you too much”

her gaze softened for a moment, the pain in her expression easing just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the woman he used to hold close, the woman he loved more than anything. “i’m just… scared,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “scared that it’s too late, that we’re too far gone.”

trent took a tentative step closer, his hand aching to reach out to her, but he held back, letting her set the pace. “i’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “but i’d rather be scared and try to make things right than walk away and wonder if we ever could’ve fixed this.”

for a long moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. then, slowly, y/n closed the distance, taking a shaky step forward, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “i don’t know if i can just… jump back into this,” she said, her voice fragile but honest. “but i want to try.”

trent’s heart swelled at her words. it wasn’t a promise of everything being okay, but it was a start. it was something. without thinking, he reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his thumb tracing soft circles over her knuckles. “we’ll go slow,” he whispered. “we’ll figure it out. together.”

y/n exhaled shakily, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself lean into him, her body easing into the warmth of his chest. he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, not in desperation but in quiet reassurance. “you in my arms…” he murmured against her hair, his voice soft, vulnerable, “it’s the only thing that feels right anymore. like for the first time in forever, i can breathe again.”

she closed her eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace settle deep in her bones. it wasn’t everything, and it didn’t fix the hurt, but it was something she hadn’t let herself feel in so long—safety. a small reprieve from the storm.

they stood like that for a long moment, holding onto each other as if the world outside had disappeared. it wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. enough to remind them that maybe, just maybe, there was still something worth fighting for.

when y/n finally pulled back, it wasn’t in retreat, but in acknowledgment of the space they still needed to navigate. she looked up at him, her eyes wet but clearer than before. “we’ve still got a long way to go,” she said quietly.

trent nodded, his hands lingering on her arms, reluctant to let her go entirely. “i know,” he agreed, his voice steady but gentle. “but we’ll get there.”

she wiped at her eyes and offered him a small, weary smile. “we don’t have to have it all figured out yet.”

he smiled back, soft and genuine, his chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. it wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start—a beginning that neither of them thought they would find again.

as they stood there, the silence between them was no longer heavy with unsaid words, but filled with the quiet understanding that despite the uncertainty, there was still hope. and for now, that was enough.

the air was crisp as y/n and her mum walked through the quiet streets of their london neighborhood. the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the pavement, and the leaves rustled gently in the breeze. despite the peaceful surroundings, y/n felt a familiar heaviness in her chest—a weight she couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how hard she tried.

her mum glanced over at her, sensing the unease that had settled around her daughter like a cloud. “it’s nice having you around,” she began, her tone light. “especially with malik and your father always bickering about football. but… have you thought about when you might go back to home?”

y/n’s steps faltered slightly, and she looked down at the ground. “i don’t know,” she replied, her voice soft, almost unsure. “trent and i… we’ve been talking, but it’s not the same. i feel the ghost of the distance between us.”

her mum nodded, understanding the depth of y/n’s feelings. “i can see that,” she said gently. “but, sweetheart, he’s the father of your child. and more than that, he’s your trent. you two have been through so much together. don’t you think your relationship deserves the chance to get back on track?”

y/n’s heart clenched at her mum’s words. she knew the truth in them, knew that the bond she shared with trent was something rare and precious. but the pain of their past arguments still lingered, like a wound that hadn’t quite healed. “i just… i’m still so hurt,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “he’s trying, i can see that. he calls, he checks in, but…”

“but you’re still scared,” her mum finished for her, her voice soft with understanding.

y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “i can’t forget what he said, how he made me feel. it’s like… like there’s this wall between us, and i don’t know how to break it down.”

her mum stopped walking and turned to face y/n, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “i understand your reservations, y/n. but trent is trying. that’s all you can hope for in a partner—someone who’s willing to put in the effort, who wants to be there for you, especially now, with the baby on the way.”

y/n wiped at her eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “he keeps asking you when i might come back, doesn’t he?”

her mum nodded, her expression softening with sympathy. “he does. he’s worried about you, about the baby. he always asks how you’re doing, if there’s anything he can do from here. but, y/n, there’s only so much he can do while you’re in london. the distance… it’s killing him too.”

y/n felt a lump form in her throat, the weight of her mother’s words pressing down on her. she knew trent was trying, knew that he wanted to be there for her, for their child. but the hurt, the fear of being vulnerable again, of risking her heart… it was still there, holding her back.

“i just don’t know if i’m ready,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

her mum gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to make any decisions right now, sweetheart. but just… think about it. think about what you want, what’s best for you and the baby. and remember, trent is there, waiting for you to let him in. he wants yiu and the baby, the both of you.”

they continued their walk in silence, the unspoken words hanging between them like a delicate thread. y/n knew her mum was right—trent was trying, and she could see the effort he was putting in to mend the rift between them. but the path to healing wasn’t a straight one, and y/n wasn’t sure if she was ready to take that first step.

as they turned the corner towards home, y/n glanced up at the sky, the fading light casting a soft glow over the rooftops. she knew she had decisions to make, choices that would shape not only her future but the future of her child. though the pain lingered, a part of her yearned to mend the fractures in her relationship with trent, to find a path forward that honored their love and their new family. “maybe,” y/n whispered to herself. maybe it was time to find a way to move forward, for their love and their family

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Vanilla kisses

Summary: Y/n and Trent share a kiss after his family’s been over for dinner.

Fluff

Note: guysss😭 it’s been ages since I posted a fic, hope you like this one!! trying to really get back into writing again. xoxo💋🤍

You helped Trent put in the last pieces of dirty plates in the dishwasher, you had been invited over for dinner with his family. You admired his close relationship with his family, they always make sure you feel at home when you’re with them.

The tension between you and Trent during the dinner was strong, it was like something was about to happen any minute. During the dinner you felt a hand slip into yours, you tried to hide your face when your cheeks turned red as well did Trent, who was just as nervous as you.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, I hope to see you soon!” Dianne said as she stood by the door ready to leave and gave you a farewell hug.

“It was lovely seeing you Dianne, take care!” You smiled and waved goodbye to Trent’s two brothers.

After your goodbye’s you went back to the kitchen where Trent just finished the dishes, you checked your phone and at the same time you put on your vanilla Burt’s Bees chapstick on your lips.

Trent leaned against the kitchen counter as you noticed him watching you and you laid down your phone.

“They really love you, Y/n.” Trent began as you met his brown eyes.

“And I love them, they’re so sweet.” You answered and he smiled at you and moved his body towards you.

“You’re also sweet, sweet like candy.” He shyly said and looked at your lips.

“I thought you didn’t like candy?” You responded and he laughed, “You’re right but I do like some types of candy.”

“Oh really?” You said.

“Yeah, but what about flavours?” He asked.

“Flavours?” You questioned.

“You know salt, sweet sour, and all that.” He explained as you stood in in front of him, listening as he talked.

“I don’t really know, but I can give you a hint.” You said and smirked at him.

“Alright.” He answered and watched you reapply your chapstick.

“Close your eyes.” You giggled as he furrowed his brows.

“What are you going to do Y/n?” He implored as he studied the look on your face.

“Just trust me Trent!” You laughed and took his hands and put them over his eyes as he was unsure about the whole situation.

You stood watching him a few seconds before you got on your tippy toes to be the same height as him. Then you cupped his face gently and pecked his lips. You weren’t sure if he got the hint, he removed his hands from his eyes and smiled at you. Your stomach was filled with butterflies as he made eye contact with you, you loved the feeling.

“Vanilla?” He guessed and you nodded.

“I like that.” He confessed as he placed his hands on your waist and leaned in for another kiss. You put your arms around his neck and fought for your life on your tippy toes. Trent noticed and helped you get on the kitchen counter so you could sit down.

“You’re so pretty baby.” Trent whispered and gave you a forehead kiss.

You loved how Trent recently started using nicknames for you, the two of you have been dating for a few months now and every time you hang out you never get use to all the nicknames and praises. It makes you so happy and you could not imagine how boring life would be without him.

“You’re all I need Y/n, don’t you ever leave.” He cooed as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m not going anywhere Trent.” You reassured and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry I have to ask you, where did you buy that chapstick?”

The end ♡