#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: Still the same.

Chapter 18 - 'Safe’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3 k

[this chapter contains dv as mentioned in the warnings, please be advised]

The match had just kicked off, and you were curled up on the sofa at home, a throw blanket draped over your legs. Jack sat in his usual spot on the opposite end of the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, engrossed in Liverpool’s away game. Noah had claimed the armchair, his phone in hand but his eyes frequently darting to the screen. The house was calm for the first time in weeks, the tension between you and Jack easing after your recent heart-to-heart. You felt lighter now that things with Trent were out in the open-at least with Jack. But as the game played on, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were still navigating uncharted territory. Trent was playing well, his movements smooth and commanding. Every time the commentators mentioned his name, you felt your chest swell with pride. Jack noticed but didn't say anything, though you could sense him glancing your way now and then, gauging your reaction.

"Trentski’s been solid this season," Noah remarked casually, breaking the silence as the game hit a lull.

"Yeah," Jack replied, his tone neutral, though his attention stayed fixed on the screen. You shifted in your seat, feeling a strange mix of pride and discomfort. It was surreal to watch Trent play with Jack and Noah sitting right there. It wasn't the first time, but now, everything felt different. Then, the commentators mentioned Josh's name, noting a key play in another match he'd made earlier in the season. It was a fleeting reference, nothing significant, but it sent a ripple of unease through you.

"I'm glad we fucked that kid up."  Noah, apparently less restrained, muttered under his breath. The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off. You froze, your breath catching as your eyes darted to Jack, who had immediately straightened up.

"What?" Jack asked sharply, his brows furrowed as he turned to Noah. Noah's face went blank for a moment before he forced out a nervous laugh, waving a hand dismissively. 

"Ah... nah, just. You know? The game. Trent locked him up. Glad they won that match, you know?" You tried to shrink into the sofa, your pulse racing. Noah's attempt to backpedal was clumsy at best, and Jack wasn't buying it but he didn’t call it out. You could feel his eyes flick to you now, the unspoken question hanging heavily between you. You avoided his gaze, pretending to focus on the game, but your heart was pounding. Trent had told you about Noah and his altercation with Josh but it was more in passing, neither he nor you wanted to talk about Josh much so you let it lie, albeit uncomfortably but nevertheless, let it lie. 

Trent came home from his away match, and before you knew it, you found yourself tangled up on his sofa. He barely even gave you time to take off your coat or get comfortable before pulling you into his arms and collapsing onto the cushions with you. You were there for ages, his head rested against your chest, his legs sprawled across yours, and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go wasn’t an option.

“T, baby, you’re literally crushing me,” you teased, your voice soft and full of affection as your fingers scratched gently through his curls.

“Good,” he murmured into your shirt, the vibration of his voice sending a comforting warmth through your body. “I’m not letting you go.” You let out a quiet laugh, trying to shift under his weight, but it was futile. Every time you moved, he clung tighter, burying his face further into the crook of your neck.

“Baby,” you started, your tone laced with playful exasperation. “At least let me breathe?” He looked up at you then, his eyes heavy-lidded from exhaustion, his lips pursed into a pout so perfect you couldn’t help but roll your eyes fondly. It was signature Trent, doe eyes, pouty lips, you didn’t have a chance so you just sympathetically smiled at him. 

“Don’t care,” he muttered, his voice raspy. “I just wanna stay right here.” His words made your heart ache in the best way. You kissed the top of his head and wrapped your arms around him, letting your fingers trail lightly over his back.

“Okay, okay. Stay right there, clingy boy,” you teased. He smiled sleepily at your words, but his eyes started to flutter shut again. He was exhausted and you were now reprieve. There was no such thing as ‘too close.’ As his breathing slowed and his body grew heavier against yours, you noticed he was beginning to doze off. You had started a show on Netflix but he hadn’t paid it much mind despite him being adamant you watched it. Concerned he might wake up with a sore neck or miss a plot point, you nudged him gently.

“T, seriously you’re falling asleep, baby. You should go upstairs and actually rest,” you suggested softly. But instead of moving, he tightened his grip on you, letting out a soft, sleepy whimper that completely undid you.

 “No,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your collarbone. His lips brushed against your skin as he added, “Don’t want to. Just wanna be with you.”

“T,” you tried again, though your resolve was quickly fading. He shifted, nuzzling even closer, his pout now accompanied with big, pleading eyes that made it impossible to say no.

“You make me feel like I’m home, pretty girl. Baby, I’m finally back home when I’m with you.” he murmured, his words sending warmth flooding through your chest. You sighed in defeat, pulling him in tighter.Your heart ached, you wanted to be that for him for years; to be something he longed for and you finally had it. He was finally yours. Yours to hold and take care of. So often before you’d given him an encouraging hug after a match only to know he’d be scampering off elsewhere to other girls and now you were here.

 “Okay, come here, then,” you whispered, stroking his back as he settled into you again. His face pressed against your neck, and his arms circled your waist, locking you in place.

“I’m away so much,” he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly, as if admitting it aloud made it harder. “The second I’m back home, I just want to be with my baby. Just you. That’s it.” Your heart squeezed painfully at his admission. You knew how much his schedule weighed on him, how it must feel to always be on the move, but you wanted him to need you, want you, when he came home. A part of you sort of relished in this. It was cute. He was just being such a baby about it and you liked that strong, confident, cool Trent was a such a simp in front of you.

“Yeah?” you teased lightly, trying to keep the mood from growing too heavy, though you couldn’t help the way your chest swelled with love for him. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed soft, lazy kisses along your neck. “Missed you so much, baby.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, T,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you pressed your cheek to his curls, letting him know he didn’t have to worry as the sound of the forgotten show played in the background. 

“Good,” he muttered, his voice growing softer, sleep dangerously close to pulling him under. His body went slack against yours, his weight sinking into you completely. You stayed like that for a long while, cradling him against you, quiet, his steady breathing and warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. You just watched him, taking in how soft his features fell, how comfortable he looked but then there was a flash on the tv and you realized you probably had gone through five episodes by now. You had no idea what was happening in the show. You knew he wanted to watch so gently you decided to ask. 

“Baby, should I pause this then?” your fingers absentmindedly stroking through his curls as he lay sprawled across you on the couch. His face was buried against your chest, his body heavy with comfort and relaxation.

“Don’t care,” he mumbled sleepily, barely lifting his head. His voice was soft, muffled by your skin. You reached to find the remote to pause the show before you pressed a kiss to his hairline, your lips lingering as you ran a soothing hand over his back. He felt so warm and at ease that you didn’t want to disturb the peace of the moment. Still, an idea popped into your mind, and you hesitated for a second before sharing it.

“You know, maybe we should start a series we can watch together even when we’re apart,” you suggested softly, your tone laced with affection. The thought of having something to share with him during his travels made the distance feel a little less daunting. Trent sighed, his head shifting just enough for you to hear his quiet reply.

“I hate when we’re apart.” His voice carried a hint of sadness, and the way his arms tightened around your waist made your heart keep hurting.

“I know, baby,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his temple. “I hate it too. But could be nice you know?" The weight of his next upcoming away matches hung in the air, unspoken but understood. Trent shifted slightly, just enough to tilt his face up toward yours. 

“Mmm. Kay, whatever you want, baby." He sleepily smiled as the idea fully registered. It was sweet you cared enough to try to connect with him even when he was away. "You make everything feel better, you know that?” His words were laced with sincerity, his gaze soft as he looked at you.

“You make everything feel better too,” you admitted, leaning down to press your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss. The rest of the evening was a blur of tender moments. Trent refused to let you move even an inch away from him, clinging to you like you were his lifeline. You spent the night tangled together, whispering nothings, exchanging soft kisses, and soaking in the precious time you had before he had to leave again. As much as you hated the thought of being apart, the love you felt in those quiet moments reminded you that no matter where he was, he was yours—and you were his… finally. As you listened to the quiet rhythm of his breaths, you couldn’t help but feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be—home.

The hum of the TV and the quiet clatter of controllers filled the room as you lay sprawled across Trent’s chest. You hadn’t left his house or his proximity since he returned home. That was two days ago. He was deep into his game, his fingers moving swiftly, jaw set in focus. You couldn’t stop staring at him, completely lost in the little details—the curve of his nose, the way his eyelashes fluttered with every blink, the slight furrow of his brows when the game grew tense. He looked unreal in the soft glow of the screen, too perfect, too composed. He didn’t seem to mind your weight on him, his hands gently resting on your back, occasionally his free one absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. It was instinctive for him now, the way he touched you even when he was distracted. Every so often, he’d shift just enough to glance down at you, a faint grin tugging at his lips when he caught you watching him.

“Comfortable there, yeah?” he murmured quietly, just for you, no mic could pick it up. You hummed in response, nuzzling your cheek closer to his chest. 

“Mmhm. Very.” You smiled.  He let out a soft chuckle, his fingers pausing briefly against your spine before he re-immersed himself in the game. Through his headset, you could hear his friends shouting, laughing, and cursing, completely oblivious to your presence. Friends you knew well. Friends that had no idea that Trent was currently tangled up with you like this—like you were a secret only Trent was lucky enough to keep. It was thrilling in a quiet way, this feeling of being wrapped up in him, safe and hidden from the world. Trent shifted under you slightly, adjusting his position to keep you closer.  You tilted your head to look up at him again. He glanced down at you just then, catching the way your eyes lingered on him. For a moment, his focus on the game faltered, and you caught a soft blush creeping up his neck.

“You’re staring,” he murmured, voice so low it wasn’t audible over the game noise.

“You look sexy,” you mouthed the words with a lazy smile. His lips twitched upward, the corner of his mouth betraying how much he liked you saying that. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, pressing a kiss to his chest before settling back into the comfortable silence, your world reduced to just him and the sound of his heartbeat beneath you. But then, he shot you a wink. A wink that fueled the most devious of fires in you. Your hands moving to drag over his chest before wrapping up around his neck to pull your body up his. You nuzzled into him. Trent let out a quiet hum of approval as you began pressing soft, deliberate kisses against his skin. The game was still running, his friends shouting and laughing in his ear, oblivious to what you were doing. You smiled against his neck, knowing just how easily you could unravel him even in the most unsuspecting moments. Your nails scratched at the fade of his hair teasingly causing Trent’s head to loll to the side to give you more room to keep kissing. But then as he could feel himself getting sucked into you, his arousal growing he smirked. You watched him mute his headphones. 

“Baby…” he murmured, a warning laced with amusement as his grip around the controller faltered. His voice dipped low, like he was trying to keep it together for the sake of the game. He unmuted himself and when you went to tell him hush an idea came to mind. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, mischief dancing across your face. He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he tried to refocus. So in retaliation you slid down his body, your fingers curling into the hem of his shirt before trailing lower, tugging at the waistband of his joggers with deliberate slowness. Trent's eyes went wide, surprise flickering across his face as he watched you with a mix of curiosity and heat. You mouthed 'be quiet' with a greedy smile that made his chest rise and fall a little faster. He swallowed hard, his head tipping back onto the cushion, a low, helpless groan escaping as you hooked your fingers into his joggers and eased them down. There was no protest-there never would be. His cock was thick and hard, pulsing with each heartbeat. You stroked him gently, reveling in the feel of his velvety skin and the warmth of his length in your hand. His breath hitched as your hands wrapped around his hard cock. You wasted no time, immediately leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, tasting the pre-cum that beaded at the tip. You bobbed your head, taking him deep, your throat welcoming the invasion. Your hand pumped the base of his shaft in time with your movements, and you reveled in the power you had over this gorgeous man. Trent was fighting for a semblance of control. You hollowed your cheeks and forced yourself to take more of his cock down your throat. Spit pooled in the corners of your mouth as you gagged a little around him. The sound of button mashing filled the room, but Trent's concentration was shot. One of the boys on the line broke the silence, suspicious of Trent's silence, an occasional curse and lack of focus.

"Oi, Trent, what's going on? What are you doing?" someone asked, their voice laced with curiosity and amusement. “Where you at?” He asked pulling Trent straight out of his dreamworld where you had his whole length in your mouth, to the back of your throat. He started to twitch in your mouth as he hit the back of your throat continuously: You doubled your efforts, sucking and stroking, determined to bring him to the brink.

"Nah, nothing-fuck," Trent stuttered, his voice cracking as he tried to suppress another groan. That was all it took for the boys to catch on. 

"Nah shut up. Say swear right now! Bro, you’re absolutely getting some top right now!" One of them yelled, laughing into the mic. Trent let the onslaught of testing ensue as he looked down at you sucking him off, bobbing your head as you stared up at him bashfully through your lashes. 

"Facetime me right now then!" another taunted, the group erupting into teasing and jeers. He couldn’t think straight, he was about to cum, you could feel the vein running along his perfect cock pulse but then with all your power you pulled back, letting a web of saliva and precum connect his tip to your perfectly pouty lips begging for him to play with you, not them. At first his eyes were shut, brow furrowed ready to cum and distraught when you snatched it away. But then he smirked, attempting to convince you he wasn’t fazed by your performance. But it was very clear he was already gone and you had just deprived him of what would’ve been a very good orgasm. He’d had enough though as you had his head lolling back against the cushion behind him but his hand instinctively reached for the controller, only to fumble and miss entirely, just swatting somewhere on the sofa next to him. You giggled at his failure to stay composed. He opened his eyes at the sound he loved so much. You leaned forward letting your tits bounce in your tiny tank top right in front of him and he lit up seeing you. 

"Nah, lads. Phone's not working," he managed to choke out, his words shaky and uneven.  His gaze completely focused on you, a cheeky smirk plastered to his face. You gently leaned in and bit his bottom lip pulling it back with you. His friends weren't buying it, and their laughter only grew louder. 

"Yeah, okay, mate," one of them teased. Trent groaned again, this time in pure surrender before abruptly exiting the game entirely, leaving the other boys in a state of stunned, uproarious jokes. He pulled the headset off and tossed it aside. His eyes filled with a playful intensity as he reached for you.

“C’mere. You’ve got a lot to answer for, you know that?”  With his attention now fully on you, you grinned, your heart racing as he gently pulled you back down onto him, his hands resting firmly on your waist. He shook his head with a soft chuckle, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Can’t focus when you’re around. You’re such a distraction. First my movies, now my games, hmm?” He mused. 

“I think you liked when I distract you, baby.” You whispered as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses. He hummed in agreement as the kiss deepened. 

What felt like ages ago, you’d promised Jack you two would spend some quality time together. After everything that had happened, you needed it. He’d suggested a park near the city, and now that the truth about you and Trent was out, the idea had finally come to fruition. A run together felt like the perfect choice—a simple way to connect and let go of some stress. The two of you set off, hitting the winding trails. It was just like old times, the air filled with lighthearted teasing as Jack pushed ahead and challenged you to keep up. You hadn’t run in a while, but it felt good—easy, almost. By the end, you were both laughing and breathless, leaning against a park bench to catch your breath.

“Still got it,” Jack teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, yeah,” you panted, rolling your eyes playfully. “I let you win.” 

Afterward, the two of you decided to grab coffee at a nearby shop. It was small, cozy, and smelled of fresh beans and cinnamon. You ordered an iced coffee while Jack opted for a cappuccino, and as you moved to go put a packet of sugar in your coffee, you felt yourself relax for the first time in what felt like weeks.That was until you saw him.

Josh.

He walked in with the same smug grin that had haunted your worst memories, his confidence oozing as if he still had any right to be near you. Your stomach churned as he spotted you immediately, making a beeline in your direction.

“My girl,” he drawled, his voice sickeningly sweet as he approached.

“No, I’m really not,” you snapped, instinctively taking a step back, but Josh moved with you, closing the space between you. His hands weren’t on you, but you could feel them, remember them, and the thought made your skin crawl.

“You were,” he said, his tone laced with mock sincerity. “And you liked it… C’mon, don’t play hard to get now.” His smirk was infuriating, a mask of charm stretched over something vile.

“No, you liked it,” you bit back, your voice steady despite the way your heart pounded in your chest. You reached behind you, your fingers brushing the edge of the counter, as if holding onto something solid could keep you grounded.Josh leaned in slightly, lowering his voice but not his smugness. 

“Y/N, come on. This isn’t you. You’re really gonna be with Alexander-Arnold? Trent? He’s just taking you for a ride, you know that, don’t you? You’re just a passing ship, baby.” His words struck a nerve, and you hated yourself for the flash of panic that crossed your face. You tried to swallow it down, but Josh saw it—pounced on it. “I see now,” he continued, his grin widening. “Not his girlfriend, are ya? Nah, course not. You’ll never be. Just a bit of fun for him, huh? No future, no promises. Right? No one even knows he has you bouncing on his dick every night do they?” He mocked. You hated that to a degree that was true. “So why don’t you stop kidding yourself and come back to my bed? You know you want to.” His words were a knife, cutting deep into your insecurities. He wasn’t just attacking you; he was digging into your relationship with Trent, rubbing salt into wounds you hadn’t even admitted to yourself yet. But this time, you weren’t the same person you were when you’d known him. You weren’t alone anymore. You finally had the person you’d wanted all along. You straightened your shoulders, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before meeting his eyes. You wouldn’t go back to him. Not again.

“Just don’t, Josh. Please leave it,” you said firmer than you expected, your voice carrying a strength that surprised even you. Josh was dissecting your biggest fear. Rubbing it in your face that you were, at the moment, nothing but someone Trent was sleeping with. You tried to tell him you were more than that but you couldn’t find the words. The strength you had moments ago disappeared entirely. What were you to Trent?  “I’m not… I’m…” you stammered, your voice faltering under the weight of Josh’s presence. Your pulse thundered in your ears, your back pressing instinctively against the counter as if it could shield you from him. Before you could find your footing, Jack appeared beside you, his steady hand landing on your shoulder.

“All right?” he asked, his voice calm yet firm, his brows furrowing as he took in the scene. His tone was a lifeline, but the subtle tension in his hand betrayed his concern. Josh’s grin widened at Jack’s arrival, like a predator circling fresh prey.

 “Oii, here he is. Big brother to the rescue,” he sneered. “You know this beauty’s been shagging your best mate, yeah? That Trent Alexander-Arnold lad—what a guy, huh?” The words hit like a slap, the air in the room thickening with the weight of his accusations. Your stomach sank, and though Jack’s expression barely changed, you could see the flicker of anger in his eyes. Jack didn’t bite. Not yet. Instead, he tilted his head, his tone measured but sharp.

 “Why can’t you just leave her alone, lad?” His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, a protective gesture. “She doesn’t want you. You’re an absolute wasteman. Not together anymore, move the fuck on,” Jack didn’t really even know if you were ever with Josh and frankly, neither did you but he was right all you wanted was for Josh to move on. You inched back further, desperate to put more space between you and him. Yet, his mocking smirk only deepened as Josh turned his attention back to you.

“Gonna let your brother fight for you, too?” Josh taunted, his tone laced with venom. He slapped his cheek lightly, a taunting gesture. “Why don’t you take a swing, Jack the lad? One more for good measure.” He cooed. Jack’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening. 

“What the fuck are you on about?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. Josh ignored him, his eyes locking on you. 

“Oh, so he doesn’t even know?” he said, feigning surprise. “Got all your little secrets, huh? Fucking his best mate, having them take swings at me. Class act, Y/N. A true puppeteer at work. How many of his friends have you got wrapped around that pretty little finger of yours?” Your chest tightened as the shame and anger bubbled up. You tried to steady your voice, but it trembled as you spoke. Jack tensed understanding that clearly his friends had hit Josh at some point and yet simultaneously he ached remembering that must’ve meant you snuck around with those very friends. 

 “Just fuck off, honestly. Let it go,” you said, your words rushed and weak. You reached for Jack’s arm, hoping to steer him away before things escalated further. But Jack didn’t move. Instead, he shook off your grip and stepped closer to Josh, his eyes narrowing.

 “Why don’t you get it through your thick skull? She doesn’t want you, yeah?” He said, his voice sharp, his patience wearing thin. Josh laughed coldly, his amusement only fueling your growing discomfort.

 “Aw, got all your boys fighting your battles, eh, Y/N?” he sneered, his gaze dropping to you before flicking back to Jack. “Too pretty for her own good.” That was the final straw. Jack shoved him hard, the force making Josh stumble back a step. 

“Fuck you, you piece of shit,” Jack snapped, his voice shaking with restrained fury. The coffee shop went quiet amongst the altercation. Josh straightened himself, brushing off his shirt like the shove had been nothing more than an inconvenience. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze fixed on Jack with a sickening smugness. 

“Tell Trent the Great he better watch the fuck out on the pitch,” he said, his tone low and menacing. “Just might slip.” The threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, and for a moment, Jack’s entire body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. But instead of retaliating, he exhaled sharply and turned to you. His hand found your back, guiding you firmly toward the door.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and protective. You let him lead you, your legs shaky as you stumbled outside. The cool air hit your face, and you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your breath. Jack stopped a few steps from the door, turning to face you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress. You nodded quickly, though your hands were still trembling. 

“Yeah… thanks, Jack,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Jack nodded, but his jaw was still tight, his eyes flicking back toward the coffee shop. 

“He’s a coward,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “All talk. Don’t worry about him.” You could tell he was still rattled, the encounter lingering in his mind as much as it was in yours. But for now, you were grateful for him—for his steady presence, for standing up for you, and for getting you out of there before things spiraled even further out of control.

The tension in the car was palpable, the silence heavy as Jack started the engine.  It was quiet. Awkward maybe. You both just stared straight ahead.Neither of you spoke, eyes fixed ahead on the road as the car began to move. The awkwardness hung between you, thick and uncomfortable. You bit your lip, unsure of how to break it. But then Jack’s voice cut through the quiet, blunt and sharp.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. You turned your head toward him, startled by the sudden question. 

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing in confusion.

“With Josh,” Jack clarified, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “What happened? Why wouldn’t you tell me? Why does he always talk about you like that? What went on that I don’t know about?” The raw concern in his voice made your stomach twist, and you looked away, staring at your lap. 

“Jack… it’s just—I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice small. “I’m sorry.” You apologized flatly, not even sure how to describe it all without getting major flashbacks. You had tried to black it all out. 

“What are you sorry about?” he pressed, his voice rising slightly, a mix of frustration and worry. “What happened?” You winced, the memories flashing uninvited in your mind. The things you had buried, the moments you had tried to forget, now forced to the surface. You took a shaky breath.

“He just wasn’t very nice…” you started, your voice barely audible. Jack’s jaw clenched as his knuckles whitened against the wheel.

“Why?” he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Why would you ever go near that kid?” He snapped almost aggressively, angry that someone like Josh was even in your life.

“I don’t know… I just…” you babbled, struggling to find an answer. How could you explain it? The charm that had initially blinded you, the slow unraveling of who Josh really was. Jack exhaled sharply, his frustration boiling over.

“And Trent hit him?” Jack asked, earnest and urgent. 

“Noah…” you corrected him softly, your voice cracking. “Jack, he hurt me. His hands—I can still feel them.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it. Jack’s head whipped toward you, his expression dark and unreadable. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now but no less intense. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. 

“He wasn’t just mean, Jack. He… he would grab me. Too hard. Push me. Say awful things. It wasn’t just words.” Your voice faltered as you tried to keep it together, but the tremble betrayed you. Jack’s grip on the wheel tightened impossibly further, his nostrils flaring as he processed your words.

“He put his hands on you?” he asked, his tone cold and seething. You nodded, unable to meet his eyes. 

“It wasn’t always like that I swear,” you said quietly, as if that could excuse it, though you knew it didn’t. “But when it was bad… it was so bad.” You whimpered recalling it all. Jack’s silence was deafening, his anger simmering beneath the surface. You could see it in the way his jaw tensed, the way his chest heaved with barely contained fury. A stray tear amongst the one’s building on your lash line tipped over, racing down your cheek. 

“I should’ve known,” he muttered finally, his voice low but laced with guilt. “I should’ve fucking known.” He quipped. 

“It’s not your fault, Jack. No one knew,” you said quickly, your own voice shaky and embarrassed. “I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even realize what was happening for so long.” He glanced at you, his eyes softening just enough to reveal the hurt behind them. 

“But you’re my sister,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “How could I not see it? How could I not protect you?” He asked. Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away. 

“I didn’t realize and I know you probably won’t want to hear it but it was Trent…” you whispered hesitantly. At first he didn’t know what you meant but then he connected the dots. Trent got you out of this vicious cycle. Jack nodded tightly, his focus returning to the road. But the silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time—it was heavy. 

“I want to hear all of it.” He commanded sternly. He needed to know how long you let someone like Josh hurt you. He needed to know how long Trent knew Josh hurt you. He was fuming at the idea that Trent and Noah might’ve known and didn’t tell him. And so you began… all of it with Josh, Trent and Noah line after line filling the car with painful memories.

-

The night had started out fine, almost enjoyable, even. You were out with Josh, and for once, everything seemed easy. He was charming, handsome, attentive-making you laugh in a way that reminded you why you had gone out with him in the first place. It was one of those rare moments when you thought maybe things could be okay, even if just for a little while. But then your phone buzzed. You glanced at it, smiling at the sight of Jack's Instagram story. It was a photo of him and Trent, grinning at the camera, probably after a night out. You shook your head, amused by how effortlessly the two of them could lift your mood.

"What's got you smiling like that?" Josh's voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusing.

"Nothing," you replied quickly, locking your phone and tucking it away as though that would diffuse the tension. "Just my brother." You should have known better. The way his eyes narrowed, the way his jaw twitched-he wasn't going to let it go.

"And all his friends you throw yourself at, yeah?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.Your stomach sank, the good mood evaporating instantly. 

"I don't," you protested weakly, trying to keep the peace. "Josh..." you pleaded, your voice trailing off as you took a small step back. But he followed. Before you knew it, your back was against the wall, his body crowding yours. His hand pressed firmly into the wall beside your head, caging you in. You flinched as the sharp edge of the bricks dug into your skin.

"Do you want to go be with them or be with me?" he demanded mockingly, his face too close, his tone too harsh.

"I'm here," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your chest tightened with a familiar mix of fear and shame. Josh's lips curled into a cruel smirk as his hand slid up to your neck. The back of your head hit the wall with a dull thud, and you winced.

"Yeah, you're here with me, yeah? Say it," he cooed, his voice syrupy and mocking, his lips brushing yours but never quite meeting them. You nodded, your voice trembling.

"I'm here with you." You repeated. To Josh this was some kind of game, deluding himself into thinking you liked him enough to put up with this. And at the time, you did.

 "And you're gonna go home with me," he continued, the smirk widening. "You're gonna suck my cock, hmm?” The words made your stomach churn, but you nodded again. It was like a script you couldn't escape, a role you didn't want but felt powerless to refuse. That night, you did exactly what he said. You went home with him, you did what he demanded, all the while feeling like you were floating outside yourself, watching a version of you that didn't even feel real anymore. Because that was the thing about Josh. The approval you craved from him was the same thing that destroyed you. You wanted his attention, even though it came with humiliation, degradation, and the constant need to please him. It wasn't the kind of attention you liked, but you couldn't seem to stop it. And it wasn't just Josh. You hated to admit it, but you craved attention in general-especially from men. You hated the way it made you feel, but you couldn't ignore it. With Josh, though, it wasn't attention. It was control, a game you never consented to play but one you couldn't seem to escape.

-

“I couldn’t handle it anymore,” you whispered back in the car, voice trembling as the memories poured out. “And he just… he’s so fixated on the fact that I finally stepped away. I don’t even remember if we were ever really together. He just had control of the whole thing.” Tears welled again in your eyes, and your chest felt heavy with the weight of it all. Jack tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. 

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with anger. You pressed your hands against your lap, struggling to find the words as you glanced at him nervously. 

“I… I just couldn’t take it, Jack. It wasn’t one thing; it was everything. The way he spoke to me, the things he made me feel like I had to do. It was suffocating.” Jack didn’t say anything at first, his jaw clenched tightly as you continued to tell him more. 

-

The night Josh found out about the car Trent had gifted you was the beginning of the end— not that you fully realized it then. It had been weeks since your birthday, a day Josh hadn't even bothered to show up for. He'd claimed he had training the next morning, something about being tired, but you'd later learn he'd spent the evening with another girl, the kind of betrayal you'd been too blinded by insecurity to see coming. You’d actually told yourself you were split up with him at the time, licking wounds, moving on, that things ended but that was never the case. Not with Josh. He wanted to be in charge and so once again you found yourself in his bed, every muscle aching from the roughness of his touch, the kind of sex that left you feeling degraded rather than desired, his words were sharp, his tone dripping with jealousy and something worse-an ugliness you'd begun to recognize all too well. The room was dimly lit, the streetlights outside casting faint shadows on the walls. You sat there in Josh's bed, your legs pulled to your chest. Your skin still stung in places from the harshness of his touch, and your mind was a haze of shame and confusion. It had been mean-his words, his actions-but here you were, again. Josh leaned against the headboard, his bare chest rising and falling as he stared at you. His lips were twisted into that signature smug grin, but there was something darker in his eyes. He was fixated, possessive, and his words dripped with venom as the conversation unfolded. Your stomach churned, anxiety pooling in your chest. You felt exposed, sitting there in nothing but one of his old T-shirts that hung loose on your frame, the one you'd thrown on in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from his intensity.

"So, what? You think you can just strut around in a car that he bought you?" Josh sneered, breaking the silence. Your stomach turned, and you looked down at your hands. 

"It's my car," you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady. "It was just a gift." You attempted to explain. Josh let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. 

"A gift," he repeated mockingly. "Yeah, a gift! Because he just happened to feel like buying you a fucking car. You think I'm daft?" He snapped. At the time, Trent was only a friend, sure someone you wanted more than anything but also someone you thought you couldn’t have. You told yourself you had to put up with this instead. 

"I didn't ask for it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just mentioned once that I hated driving my old car in the rain, and he... he just wanted me to be safe. That's all it was." You whimpered. Josh's grin twisted into something cruel. 

"Safe? That's rich," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What he really wants is to take you away from me, yeah? Thinks he can buy you off me and you’re so desperate for the attention you’ll bite. Big bow in the drive, must’ve been all over him, hmm?" He mocked your night that was once a fond memory in your mind, now it was ammunition. 

"That's not true," you insisted, shaking your head. "It's not like that." You repeatedly told him aching both from the current situation and the hurt that you and Trent really weren’t actually like that. But Josh wasn't listening. He never really listened. Instead, he leaned forward, his tone growing colder. 

"You whine my name all night," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "you beg for me to fuck you, and then you have the audacity to ride around in another man's car? Do you even hear how pathetic that sounds?" He quipped. Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest.

"Josh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "Please, I didn't mean to upset you. I just-" You apologized but it would never be enough. 

"You just what?" he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "You just like playing games? You like all the attention any man gives you, huh? You’ll take it even if it means betraying me" He snapped. What you were doing was far from betrayment all things considered but he’d gaslight into making you believe you were. 

"No," you whispered, shaking your head. "That's not it." Josh shifted, moving closer until his face was inches from yours. His presence was suffocating, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw. You froze as his thumb brushed against your cheek, his grip firm but not painful-yet.

At the time, it didn’t register. The way Josh treated you didn’t seem like abuse—it just seemed like your fault. Like you weren’t good enough to have his full attention. You didn’t merit it. You told yourself you deserved it, or that this was just how relationships worked. Trent was off-limits, and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning to Josh, desperate to prove you were worthy of something, even if that something was his warped approval.

“Josh, I promise,” you said, your voice trembling. You sat on the bed, feeling small under the weight of his glare. You didn’t even know why you were apologizing. You just needed him to stop looking at you like that. Josh laughed, humorless and sharp, shaking his head. 

“This is why I can’t put up with you,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “You just never listen. Always want more, huh? I thought you wanted to be good for me.”

“I do,” you said quickly, your voice cracking as tears stung your eyes. “I am good for you. I promise.”

“Then fucking act like it,” he spat. His hand on you tightened, gripping your face hard, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he pushed your head back. You winced, but you didn’t pull away. Josh leaned in close, his voice low and mocking. “Look at you,” he said. “Pathetic. You don’t even know what you want. You’re just desperate, aren’t you? Always looking for attention. From me… from all your brother’s friends. Just any lad’s attention is enough to get you into bed, huh? But you’re for me. Understand?” At the time, misguidedly you believed that being ‘for Josh’ meant that he was only for you too then in return but that wasn’t the case. You thought if you were for him, you were good enough at least for someone, even if it was Josh.

"For you," you said automatically, your voice trembling. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them back, nodding. "I'm sorry," you whispered again, desperate to make this stop. Josh tilted his head, his smirk widening. 

"Yeah, you're sorry," he said mockingly. You didn’t answer, your breath shaky as he shoved your face away with force. You stumbled slightly, catching yourself with your hands on the mattress. Josh leaned back against the headboard, watching you with a smug grin as he gestured downward. “Go on, then,” he said, nodding toward his lap. “Show me you mean it. Apologize properly.” His words made your stomach twist, but you didn’t hesitate, you knew this. You slid down the bed onto your knees, your heart racing as you leaned toward him. It was a disgusting game you’d fallen into, but it was familiar now. You knew how it worked. If you gave him what he wanted, he’d be satisfied. He’d stop being angry. Maybe he’d even like you again—for a little while. And so you did it. You pushed down the shame, the discomfort, the voice in your head screaming at you to stop, and you gave him what he wanted. You thought if you could just make him happy, if you could just be perfect for him, it would all be worth it. You didn't stop until he was satisfied, until his anger was gone, replaced by smugness and superiority. But even as you tried to convince yourself, something deep inside you knew the truth. You hated this. You hated him. But most of all, you hated the way you couldn’t seem to stop chasing his approval, even when it hurt. You craved attention, you craved love, but with Josh, you weren’t getting either. You were only getting control, wrapped in a package of cruelty and manipulation. But for now, you couldn’t see it. All you could see was him, and the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally be satisfied.

-

Jack’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel listening to you, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. The sound of the tires humming on the road was the only thing filling the tense silence after your confession. You sat beside him, shifting uncomfortably, staring down at your hands in your lap. You had finally told him about Josh—the truth this time, not the vague half-lies you’d fed him before. His reaction was what you expected: stunned, furious, and disappointed.

“You’re serious?” Jack finally broke the silence, his voice sharp. “He actually did all of that to you?” You nodded, swallowing hard. 

“Yes.” You admitted finally allowed. 

“And you just… didn’t think to tell me?” he snapped, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Jack, I—” you started, but he cut you off.

“Do you have any idea how fucked up that is, Y/N?” His voice was rising now, frustration spilling out. “You let me sit there, thinking everything was fine while this—this prick—was treating you like that? And you stayed? For what Y/N?!?” He asked pleadingly confused how you could let this happen.

“I thought that…. That…” You stumbled trying to articulate something you never could before. Something indescribable.  You couldn’t describe the live wire running through your head desperate for male validation. Who’s attention evidently started to matter less and less but it started with your dad’s then Jacks… a game you subconsciously played. Getting Jack’s friends to notice you, your own friends to notice you, anyone to make you feel like you mattered. If they saw you, then you must matter. “I didn’t know how to tell you!” you fired back eventually, your voice trembling. You couldn’t articulate it to Jack. He wouldn’t understand. 

“You didn’t know how to tell me? I’m your brother, Y/N! You think I wouldn’t have dropped everything to help you? To get you away from him?” Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked out the window, unable to face him. 

“I thought I could handle it,” you murmured. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Burden me?” Jack let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You were getting abused, and you thought you’d be a burden?” You flinched at the word, as if hearing it out loud made it all the more real.

“I didn’t even realize how bad it was,” you whispered. “Not until…” You paused.

“Until what?” Jack pressed, his eyes darting toward you for a split second before refocusing on the road. You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. 

“Until T,” you finally admitted, your voice barely audible. Jack tensed at the mention of Trent, his hands tightening on the wheel again. 

“What about Trent?” He asked harshly. You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain without making things worse. 

“That night in the club, way after the party—” You paused, your voice catching. “Josh wouldn’t let it go, even when I said it was over. It’s like he hated the idea of me not being his, like I was his to own and he just wouldn’t let go of my arm and then when I broke away he said all this stuff…” Jack’s eyes flicked toward you briefly, his expression unreadable but his anger simmering just below the surface. “I was upset and then I ran into T. He was there and he was…safe. He was everything Josh isn’t. He was so nice to me. I felt so safe… finally and I just, I don’t know… I kissed him.” You could feel Jack fight back words. You hesitated before continuing, your voice growing quieter. “I kissed him and he told me he couldn’t. He told me to stop because he wanted to take care of me. Someone protecting me, not owning me, not taking advantage of me. He could’ve gone home with me. I… I would’ve let him but he’s not like that. Finally someone gave me attention and protection without it being an exchange for sex or my dignity… handing over my whole soul for them to own and play with. He isn’t like that with me.” You wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. “And after that… it started to make me realize that Josh shouldn’t be treating me that way. That the fact that I was hiding it from you, from Layla, from everyone what he did to me… It was just so obvious that what he was doing was wrong because I wanted to hide it and yet when I kissed T… it was so obvious that it was right, that it was meant to be shared…I didn’t want to hide that.” Jack let out a long, heavy sigh, his head tilting back slightly as he stared at the road ahead. “You know, eventually… because I…” You got caught up in your own monologue and now you didn’t know how to retract what you said. 

“So, what? Trent just swooped in and became your knight in shining armor?” He asked expectantly and seriously. As if there was something you were missing.  

“It wasn’t like that,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “He didn’t push me or pressure me. He is just there for me. He made me feel… so safe and then things spiraled from there but I wanted to get away from Josh. I realized how bad everything had been when I was with Trent. No one has ever made me feel the way he does… His hands on me feel different. It doesn’t hurt. He’s gentle with me. Not purposely trying to break me.” You sheepishly confessed.  Jack’s jaw clenched again, his thoughts clearly racing.

“Y/N. You’d just gotten out of something so toxic, and then you go straight to Trent. Why…” He asked pleadingly. Jack was struggling to understand why you were so insistent on having a man around you and you’d ask yourself the same but you didn’t like the answer populating in your brain. You wanted to blame your mum’s passing, your dad leaving, Jack still treating you like a little girl but you knew the real blame fell to you. To you, putting yourself in these situations. If it was another girl, you wouldn’t judge so harshly, you’d empathize and tell her Josh was manipulative and abusive, that’s not her fault, but your inner critic was too cynical for that. 

“I know it doesn’t sound great.” You tried to backtrack feeling like you didn’t do a good job explaining and Jack could sense you trying to rectify it all. But for him it was a very clear picture and a very clear picture he didn’t like.  

“Y/N… Doesn’t that seem… I don’t know, like maybe he took advantage of the situation?” Jack asked you with disappointment laced in his words. He looked almost sad. And truth be told he was sad, because he didn’t want to believe that. 

“No,” you said firmly, surprising both yourself and Jack with the strength in your voice. “He didn’t take advantage of me, Jack. He didn’t manipulate me. We... We… we did this in our own time. He wasn’t waiting in the wings. He didn’t even want to that first night because he found me sobbing in the club. He didn’t do anything wrong. Not to me. He’s not Josh.” Jack glanced at you, his expression conflicted. 

“Yeah, well, that’s a low fucking bar, isn’t it?” Jack quipped. You sighed, exasperated. 

“He’s nothing like Josh,” you said quietly but resolutely. “He’s kind. He’s patient. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m walking on eggshells all the time. Jack, I know you’re worried, but Trent is… he’s different. You know he’s not like that.” You were practically begging Jack to believe you. Believe you that Trent didn’t come into your life at the wrong time, but a part of you had never really taken a look at this very clear picture Jack was seeing and right now, in the back of your mind, it was starting to make you anxious. Jack didn’t respond right away, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. 

“Alright,” he muttered. “And I know he’s not Josh but I worry about you. Why do you need them? Y/N… you’re so amazing. These guys, they’re not what makes you, you.” He sighed, flashing a quick glance over to you. You looked solemn and defeated, something he wasn’t sure he had noticed before and yet he began to wonder if it had been there the whole time. “Y/N… I want you to do what you want. I want you to be in a relationship with someone because you want to be, because they think you’re so fucking perfect, beautiful, intelligent…” And as Jack began to rattle off all your best attributes, he realized it was all the things Trent had always called you. He sighed. “I want them to value all the things that you are, that make you, you… And if that’s Trent, low it I guess. If it makes you happy.  But if he ever—and I mean ever—hurts you…” Jack’s voice strained again just getting angry by the mere thought of it. 

“He won’t,” you said firmly, cutting him off. Jack shot you a sidelong glance. 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. I still don’t trust him, not completely. Why wouldn’t he fucking tell me about Josh…” He asked open endedly into the abyss of the car that felt like the roof had been blown off with all the tension. 

“I asked and I’m sorry. But you don’t have to trust him,” you said softly. “You can trust me.” Jack let out a humorless laugh. 

“Yeah, well, trusting you is how we ended up here in the first place.” The words stung, but you knew he didn’t mean them the way they came out. You stayed silent, watching as the road lights blurred past the windows.

“Look,” Jack said after a long pause, his voice softer now. “I’m not trying to be a dick, alright? I just… I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you again. Not Josh, not Trent, not anyone.” You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. 

“I know,” you whispered. Jack reached over, resting a hand on your knee briefly before returning it to the wheel. Jack shook his head, his expression softening slightly as he glanced at you again.

 “You should’ve told me. I would’ve done something, Y/N. Anything.” He muttered. 

“I know,” you said, a small, sad smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m telling you now. And… I’m okay now. You know… with Trent… he’s good to me.” You cooed.  Jack’s jaw worked as he processed your words, a mix of guilt and anger swirling in his eyes. 

���You don’t ever have to deal with someone like Josh again, yeah? You’ve got me, Y/N. And if Trent’s the one making you feel safe, then I’ll make sure he knows how much that means and how precarious this all is. He can’t fuck with you. But Josh? He’s done. Never again, yeah?” You reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. 

“Never. Thank you, Jack.” He nodded, his anger still simmering but his protective instinct now firmly in place. 

Jack leaned against the counter in his kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. He’d spent the entire day replaying everything you’d told him about Josh, trying to reconcile his anger with his protective instincts. Now, as he dialed Trent, his mind raced. He knew he needed to clear the air—but he also needed answers.

“Yo, bro.” Jack said, his voice tight but tense. He trusted Trent as a friend but with you, after knowing everything about Josh, it felt different. But after all, he was still his best friend. 

“Alright?” Trent asked hesitantly, he could feel this was a loaded phone call the second he answered. Jack waited momentarily, taking a deep breath ready to say what he intended to. 

“Mate, you’re a good lad,” Jack started, exhaling deeply. “I’ve been out of line.” The admission wasn’t easy, but it felt necessary to start. He didn’t want Trent to feel like this was some sort of attack. After all, he loved him, this was his best mate.

“Nah, Jack, don’t do that,” Trent replied immediately. “This whole thing—me and Y/N—we never meant for it to get this far without you knowing. I swear, bro. I’m sorry for that.” The sincerity in Trent’s voice was clear, and Jack wanted to let it settle, but hearing him refer to you as ‘we’ gnawed at his nerves. 

“Yeah, well, we ran into Josh today.” He clenched his jaw, his tone still clipped. There was a pause on Trent’s end. Jack pushed forward, his voice hard. “He was being a right dick, but then he mentioned you guys got into a fight.” 

“Erm…” Trent hesitated, clearly treading carefully. “I mean, yeah, at that party, showed up, talking nonsense. Noah hit him, mate. Not me. But yeah, I guess the match was also a bit rough too. Kid’s an ass.” He explained roughly. 

“Yeah, understatement,” he muttered. Then, after a moment, he asked, his voice sharper than he intended, “So you guys knew how he was with her?” Trent’s pause this time was longer, heavier. 

“No, Jack,” he said quietly. “Not at first. I didn’t know anything at all until…” He trailed off, exhaling a shaky breath. Jack knew what the next line was. He’d heard it from you in the car. Trent didn’t want to rat you out, but it was the truth. That’s when he found out. “I found out the night Y/N…” Trent’s voice faltered, and Jack’s grip on the phone tightened.

“Go on,” Jack pressed, his tone low and dangerous. Jack wasn’t keen that Trent was holding back. That once again it seemed he was prioritizing secrecy over your safety. 

“The night she kissed me,” Trent admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Jack’s hand was still gripping the phone as his chest tightened. “But just—hold on, Jack,” Trent said quickly, sensing the tension. Trent wanted to make this right. He knew he had to in order for you and him to work. “Before you say anything, let me explain. I didn’t even know she was there that night. I was out with the lads, and when I saw her…” Trent’s voice cracked slightly recalling it all. It was so out of the blue and yet so blatant. He felt bad he had never noticed. It clearly wasn’t a isolated incident.  “She was sobbing in the club, mate. I went over to see what was wrong, and that’s when I saw her arm.”

“What about her arm?” Jack asked through gritted teeth, though he already had an idea. You told him Josh’s hands were on you but what did Trent know.

“It was bruising,” Trent admitted. “Badly.” Jack felt his stomach drop, his breath catching in his throat. “She kissed me,” Trent continued awkwardly. “I told her we couldn’t, Jack. I promise you. I told her it wasn’t right. That’s not how this started. But I couldn’t just leave her like that.”  Jack stared out the back window, his mind racing. The image of you, bruised and sobbing, made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t describe. 

“So you’ve known about all this for a while now, yeah?” Jack clenched his jaw, speaking after a long pause. 

“It wasn’t like that,” Trent said quickly, his voice tight. “I didn’t let her do anything. She kissed me, yeah, but I stopped it, Jack. I told her we couldn’t—” Trent tried to explain but the initial hurt of you and Trent together at all came rushing back. 

“But you didn’t tell me!” Jack shot back. “You knew what was happening to her, and instead of coming to me, you decided to swoop in and—” Jack started to point blame. 

“Don’t,” Trent interrupted, his tone firm now. “Don’t act like I took advantage of her, because I didn’t. I’d never do that, Jack. Never, and you fucking know it.” Jack gritted his teeth, pacing now. 

“You knew she was vulnerable. You knew she’d just gotten out of something horrible. How do I know you didn’t see that as your chance?” He asked almost tauntingly. 

“Because you know me. You know I care about her,” Trent said simply. Your conversation in the car with Jack and his acceptance was hazy in the back of his mind. He couldn’t hear Trent out. He wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore.  “I didn’t want anything from her, Jack. I just wanted her to be okay.” Jack stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone again. 

“You expect me to believe that, bro? You realize how fucked up this all is? He was abusing her and then you found her and hid her away for a couple months fucking her behind my back… And you want to tell me you had no intention of getting with her?” He asked. Jack was fuming. The past couple months, summer into fall and winter seemed fine, he had a girl, you seemed retreated but things were fine, and yet all of this was going on right under his nose. 

“I didn’t plan for it to happen,” Trent admitted. “But yeah, I fell for her. I didn’t mean to, but I did. It happened so gradually. Years bro and then it finally opened up. And I’ve done everything I can to make sure she feels safe and loved, not fucking worthless like that kid made her feel. I know you think I took advantage, but I didn’t.” Jack rubbed a hand over his face, trying to process Trent’s words. 

“Then why’d you hide her. Why’d you hide the whole thing if she’s not worthless to you?” Jack asked but his words weren’t threatening anymore, no, his tone had fallen somewhere between despair and hope. He wanted Trent to be the good guy here. Rooting for his friend but at the same time his brotherly instincts wouldn’t waiver. 

“We didn’t plan to hide it. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like a shit friend.” Trent earnestly told him. Jack scoffed exacerbated on the line. “Nah, seriously, I didn’t know what to do because it’s not like it was some hook up I didn’t think about, I didn’t dream about. God, Jack you know I’ve loved her for years. Everyone thinks it was this one way street, that Y/N pined after me but I was there to, I returned it every fucking time, every look, every touch, every word, I hit the ball back to her because… I loved her. And… and finally she finally opens the door for me. Albeit, bad circumstances, but there’s more to her, more to her and I than that. I finally got my chance with the girl of my dreams and I’m sorry it came at the cost of your trust. I genuinely have just been trying to be good to her. Take care of her.” Trent took a deep breath, both terrified yet relieved it was all on the table. Everyone had shown their hands. 

“You should’ve come to me,” he said finally, his voice quieter now.

“I know,” Trent agreed. “And I’m sorry for that. I just… I didn’t want to betray her. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone, Jack, not even you.” Jack let out a long sigh, leaning back against the counter. 

“She says you’ve been good to her. Good for her. Says you’ve helped her. Make her feel loved” Jack confessed coming back to reality. The reality that he knew Trent wasn’t like Josh, not even one bit. 

“I am good to her,” Trent said softly. He said it in a way that Jack knew he was being honest.  There was a heavy silence, both of them letting the weight of the conversation sink in. Jack knew it was time to set his pride to the side. 

“Look, Trent,” Trent said quietly, his tone softening. “I know it’s not my place to say, ultimately it’s on her but…” Jack sighed. “I’m glad you make her feel good. When it’s all said and done, yeah, it hurts, but thank you for making sure she was okay. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her. I don’t want her with anyone who doesn’t treat her like she’s the most perfect thing in the world.”  Trent swallowed hard, the words hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. He didn’t expect Jack to change his tune so soon. “And I’ve seen you embarrass yourself for her for years so I know you think that.” He admitted, finally revealing he saw it all. Trent laughed gently. “She’s a handful, though, mate. Just warning you.” There was a brief silence before Trent chuckled lightly, the sound easing some of the tension between them. 

“I’ve known that,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. Jack smirked despite himself, shaking his head. 

“Good luck, then. You’ll need it mate.” Jack smirked, resorting to a joke at your expense trying to come to terms with this. 

“I’ll take my chances,” Trent replied confidently. Jack leaned back into the counter, the weight of the conversation still heavy on his shoulders. 

“Just… take care of her, yeah?” Jack cooed gently. Images of you flashed in his mind. He searched for all the times he’d seen you actually happy, not drunk at a club smiling and dancing, but happy, safe, at home,  and that’s when this picture somehow clearer than the last, came to his mind. Movie night, tucked neatly off in the corner of the sofa all along, an inch too close, right beside you and underneath his nose had always been Trent. 

“Always, mate,” Trent said firmly. “Always.”

•

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

Next part - Chapter 19 xx

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 10k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an —if you're expecting trent from my other works, turn away.

masterlist

trent sat in his living room, staring out the window, his mind still replaying the scene at the café. he had seen his fair share of fiery women, but something about y/n’s reaction had struck him in a way he didn’t expect. the way she stood up, her voice dripping with disdain as she called him "just another guy"—it hit deeper than he wanted to admit. he wasn’t sure who he thought he was when he brushed her off earlier, but she was no pushover. there was a power in her, an undeniable confidence that he wasn’t used to. the women around him usually gave in, smiling or flirting back, charmed by who he was and what came with his name. but y/n? she had no interest in any of that. she didn’t even seem to care that he was trent alexander-arnold.

the memory of her walking out, leaving him sitting there speechless, gnawed at him. maybe it was that she had the guts to talk down to him. maybe it was that she hadn’t flinched when he poked at her about sancho. or maybe it was that, deep down, what she said about him being "just another guy" got under his skin. for the first time in a long time, someone didn’t care about his football career or his fame. to her, he was just another obstacle in her way. it bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

he sighed heavily, leaning back into the couch as his older brother, tyler, walked in with his phone in hand. "you ready?" tyler asked, a raised brow signaling that it was time for their meeting at y/n’s record label. 

trent didn’t respond at first, still caught up in his thoughts about her. what exactly had convinced him to say yes to this arrangement after how the café meeting went? maybe it was her fire, or maybe it was because, despite his stubbornness, he realized she wasn’t the type of woman he could push around. whatever it was, he found himself agreeing to it.

“yeah, let’s get this over with,” trent finally muttered, standing up. tyler gave him a knowing look but didn’t say anything. he knew trent well enough to know something was off, but now wasn’t the time to push for answers.

they walked into the label’s sleek, modern office building, and the tension was thick in the air. as soon as they stepped into the room, trent saw y/n. she was already seated at the table, an iced americano in front of her, her expression a mix of boredom and frustration. she didn’t even bother to look up when they entered, her focus entirely on her phone as she absentmindedly stirred her drink. she exuded a kind of power that wasn’t loud, but it demanded attention. it was in her posture, the way she held herself like she didn’t have time for anyone’s nonsense.

trent couldn’t help but admire that about her, even though he’d been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue. she wasn’t here to play games, and that was clear from the second they sat down. across from them were their respective lawyers, along with tyler and ayesha, y/n’s manager, who greeted them with a polite, business-like nod.

"shall we get started?" ayesha said, her voice calm but firm. "we’re here to finalize the terms of your arrangement. the contract outlines a public relationship for the next six months, though that timeline is subject to change depending on y/n’s upcoming album cycle."

trent’s gaze flickered to y/n, who hadn’t said a word since they arrived. she was still scrolling on her phone, acting completely indifferent to the entire situation. the tension between them was palpable, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from their earlier encounter or something else entirely. either way, she was clearly pissed about being here.

he leaned back in his chair, watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction as ayesha and tyler discussed the details of their agreement. "when will that be?" trent finally asked, breaking his silence and hoping to get some kind of rise out of her.

y/n’s eyes snapped up from her phone, and for a split second, her fiery gaze locked with his. “when it’s done,” she shot back flatly, before immediately turning her attention back to her phone, completely dismissing him.

trent clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration in check. she really wasn’t going to make this easy, and he could already tell. tyler and ayesha exchanged awkward glances, clearly sensing the tension, and the lawyers shuffled through their papers, ignoring the exchange altogether.

“right,” tyler said, clearing his throat. “so, as outlined, there will be public outings—dinners, events, and a few social media posts to solidify the relationship in the public eye. everything will be staged, nothing too intimate, just enough to get the media talking.”

ayesha nodded in agreement, then turned to y/n, who was still ignoring trent’s presence entirely. “you can continue to see other people, as long as it doesn’t get out. discretion is key here.”

trent's eyes darted back to y/n, watching closely for her reaction. he knew her and sancho were still a thing, whether they admitted it or not. he half-expected her to flinch or at least react, but she didn’t. she remained composed, her expression unreadable, though her fingers gripped her iced americano a bit tighter. 

ayesha let out a small laugh. “and now, officially, you two will be the new power couple. i’m sure the media’s going to eat this up.”

“lucky us,” y/n muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she stood, abruptly signaling that the meeting was over for her. she grabbed her bag and glanced at ayesha. “i’m leaving. call me if anything else needs signing. thank you,” the last sentiment towards the lawyers and teh older alexander-arnold. 

trent opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what, maybe to call her out on her attitude or just to get a final word in—but before he could, she was already out the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and a palpable wave of irritation. 

tyler sighed, shaking his head. "well, that went well."

trent stayed silent, watching the door y/n had just stormed through. something about her made him uneasy, but it wasn’t just anger. it was something else entirely. he wasn’t sure if this arrangement was going to work, but one thing was clear—he was in for a hell of a ride.

y/n lay tangled in the sheets, jadon’s arm draped over her waist as her mind raced. the heat from their earlier encounter lingered, her skin still buzzing from the familiar feel of his lips, his touch. it was a routine, one they’d fallen into easily. whenever the world seemed to press too hard on her—first with trent, then the label's relentless pressure to churn out more love songs—jadon was the one she went to. it didn’t make sense, not when she knew he wasn’t good for her. but something about him had always been hard to resist.

y/n lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the sheets tangled around her bare legs. jadon was still beside her, his arm lazily draped across her waist, breathing softly against her neck. it was natural now—this. their routine. they’d done it what felt like a thousand times before. same bed, same space, same empty words exchanged afterward. she wasn’t proud of it, and every time she swore it would be the last, something about him pulled her back.

her mum’s voice echoed in her mind, words of wisdom passed down in her mother tongue, reminding her that no one was perfect. but y/n knew her imperfection had a name—jadon sancho. no matter how much she tried to distance herself, there was something about him that kept her tethered. maybe it was the charm, the way he always knew exactly what to say, or maybe it was the way he’d smile at her like she was the only one in the room. she wasn’t sure anymore.

slipping out of bed, she began to pull on her clothes, moving with the kind of casual ease that came with familiarity. jadon watched her from where he lay, his arm tucked under his head, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at her.

reaching for her clothes, jadon shifted behind her, his voice low and heavy with sleep. “you leaving already?”

y/n didn’t turn around, pulling her sweats up as she spoke. “yeah, i have to go.”

he sat up slightly, watching her with that knowing smirk that always made her weak. “since when do you rush off after?” his gaze was playful, but there was a question underneath. 

normally, she would’ve stayed. they’d order food, maybe watch a movie or talk about nothing for hours. dates, in secret, where they’d avoid the paparazzi and pretend their situation wasn’t what it was—complicated, undefined, and utterly toxic. but this time, something felt different.

“it’s not like that,” she mumbled, slipping her shirt on and finally turning to face him. jadon’s dark eyes were studying her, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension. 

he chuckled softly, but there was a slight edge to it, one she noticed immediately. “not like that? or is it ‘cause of your new ‘boyfriend’?” he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, clearly amused. “you really do have a type, huh?”

y/n froze for a second, the mention of trent hitting a nerve she didn’t expect. “trent isn’t my boyfriend,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing her bag off the floor.

jadon tilted his head, still smirking. “right. just like i’m not your boyfriend either, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat at his words. he wasn’t wrong, and that was part of the problem. the truth was, no matter how many times she told herself she could stop, she always ended up back here—back with him. and despite the casual nature of their relationship, there were feelings they both danced around, never acknowledging, never pushing past the surface.

“you don’t get to ask about trent,” y/n said sharply, more to shut him up than anything else.

“oh, but i do,” jadon shot back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. he crossed the room, his shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders as he moved closer, the playful spark in his eyes now clouded with something else—something heavier. “he and i played together, you know. on the national team. didn’t know you’d end up with another footballer. thought i was your only one.”

y/n rolled her eyes, annoyed at his cockiness. “don’t make this about you.”

“it’s always about me,” he countered, stepping into her space, his voice low as his hand ghosted over her arm. “you’re here, aren’t you?”

she felt a shiver run down her spine, his touch lighting a fire in her that she hated she couldn’t control. “i came here because i needed to clear my head,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “but we’re not anything, jadon. we never were.”

his eyes darkened, the smug grin on his lips faltering for the briefest moment. “right, of course,” he said quietly. “because you’ll keep telling yourself that until you believe it, yeah?”

y/n exhaled sharply, trying to focus on anything but the way his presence still affected her. “you’re impossible.”

“you always say that, but you keep coming back, y/n,” he murmured, his voice softening as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “you don’t think i see it? the way you’re always fighting this. fighting us. i know you feel it too.”

she bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. it was true—there was something between them, something raw and unspoken. but it was also messy, confusing, and more often than not, it hurt.

“i don’t know why i keep coming back,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “but i can’t do it anymore. i have to stop.”

jadon’s jaw clenched, the words hitting him harder than he wanted to show. “and what, you think trent’s gonna be different? you think you won’t be back here again, with me?”

her heart raced, the pull between them stronger than she wanted to admit. “i can’t, jadon. not this time.”

“so that’s it?” he asked, stepping back slightly, his voice quieter now. “you’re really gonna walk away, just like that?”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself before she opened the door. “yeah. i have to.”

“you’ll be back,” he said, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice this time.

she hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. “not this time,” she whispered, and with that, she walked out, leaving him standing there, his expression unreadable.

as she left his apartment, the reality of her words sank in. she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, but what she did know was that things couldn’t stay the same. and as much as she hated to admit it, trent had already complicated things in ways she hadn’t expected.

y/n sped down the road, her fingers gripping the steering wheel as her mind replayed the same tired loop of thoughts. she had never been good at keeping her emotions in check—every feeling she had, whether frustration, joy, or heartbreak, found its way into the songs she wrote. the singing came later, a natural extension of the emotions she couldn’t keep inside. despite the confident persona she carried now, y/n had always been shy, even timid as a child. she still remembered being in the choir at her all-girls school, hiding in the back until her teacher forced her to take a solo. if it hadn’t been for that push, she would’ve never discovered the voice that would eventually take her all over the world. 

but now, that voice only seemed to echo with the messy frustrations of her life, and one name lingered in every song—jadon. 

her latest album was a catalog of every high and low she’d been through with him, even if she’d never admit it out loud. the media had no clue, of course, but jadon? he knew. it was all in the lyrics—the tragedy of their situationship strung together verse by verse. they were raw, exposing parts of herself she was still too prideful to confess directly. the way he always knew she’d come back, the way he got under her skin… it was all there, hidden in plain sight.

she groaned, slamming the car door as she parked outside zaia’s house. she couldn’t keep doing this. couldn’t keep falling into the same pattern. the moment she stepped into her best friend's cozy, suburban home, the warmth and stability hit her hard. everything about zaia’s life was so… put together. the complete opposite of the chaotic mess y/n had going on. while zaia was happily engaged to her childhood sweetheart, planning a wedding and living in domestic bliss, y/n was the media’s favorite "mess," the girl who couldn’t seem to keep a man, at least according to every tabloid headline.

she stormed inside without knocking, not bothering with pleasantries. "where’s the wine?" y/n called out, tossing her bag onto the couch before collapsing into it, her face buried in the cushions.

zaia appeared from the kitchen, a bemused look on her face as she poured a glass of wine and handed it over. "bad day, huh?"

"bad week," y/n grumbled, sitting up to take the glass. "i swear, if one more thing goes wrong, i’m going to lose it."

zaia raised an eyebrow, settling into the armchair across from her. "let me guess—jadon?"

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. she never had to with zaia. "he just… he makes me so mad. and i don’t know why i keep going back. it’s like he knows exactly how to push my buttons, and i fall for it every time."

zaia sighed, leaning forward slightly. "you’re too prideful, y/n. you know you’re in too deep with him, but instead of cutting him off, you write songs about him. we both know ‘girls need love’ was about him.”

y/n scoffed, though she knew zaia was right. "i write about what i feel. it’s not always about him."

"you’ve gotta leave him alone, y/n," zaia sighed, shaking her head. "he's a dead end, and your songs say it all. i mean, come on, you basically spilled everything in ‘playing games.’ you wrote ‘you say you want me, but you act like you don’t’—who else could that be about?"

y/n groaned, sinking deeper into the couch. "that could be about anyone."

"oh, please." zaia rolled her eyes. "and then there’s ‘girls need love.’.’ if that’s not about jadon stringing you along, then i don’t know what is. you’ve practically handed him a whole mixtape of your mess together."

"it’s not that deep," y/n muttered, though she knew zaia had a point. the songs weren’t just vague reflections of her life—they were practically confessions. every line felt like a piece of the complicated puzzle that was her and jadon. 

"girl, it is that deep," zaia shot back. "you’ve got a whole album about this man, and he’s still playing the same games. you need to cut him off."

y/n slumped further into the couch, the truth of zaia’s words sinking in more than she wanted to admit. "it’s not that simple. you don’t get it."

"i do get it. you’re addicted to him. it’s like you love the chaos," zaia said, her voice soft but firm. "but it’s not healthy. you’re wasting your time, your energy, on someone who’s never going to change."

y/n stared down at her wine glass, swirling the dark liquid inside. zaia was right. she always was. but something in her—whether it was pride or stubbornness or something else entirely—kept pulling her back to jadon, even when she knew it was a losing game. "he’s not that bad," she muttered, more to herself than to zaia.

zaia scoffed. "he’s worse, y/n. every time you get close to something good, he reels you back in just to keep you from moving on."

y/n bit her lip, the frustration bubbling inside her again. she hated that zaia could see her so clearly, even when she tried to hide behind the excuses. "it’s just… i don’t know. i don’t know why i can’t stop."

"because you don’t want to," zaia said plainly. "but you need to."

silence hung in the air for a moment before zaia, ever the pragmatic one, switched topics. "so, what’s the deal with trent?"

y/n groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "don’t even get me started on him. i hate him."

"you sure about that?" zaia teased, raising an eyebrow.

"yes," y/n shot back. "he’s arrogant and—ugh. just no. the whole thing with him is a disaster waiting to happen."

zaia leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "maybe he’s exactly what you need. a distraction. someone to finally get your mind off jadon."

y/n narrowed her eyes. "a distraction? you think this PR relationship is going to help me forget sancho?"

"why not? he’s easy on the eyes, you know, and he’s not jadon. that’s already a win."

"it’s not that simple, zai. we signed contracts, there are rules… and i don’t need another distraction. i need to focus on my music, not some fake relationship."

zaia gave her a pointed look. "maybe you need a break from the music. all it’s been doing lately is giving you more reasons to run back to jadon. maybe trent’s exactly what you need to finally cut the cord."

y/n stared at her friend, unsure of how to respond. she didn’t want to admit it, but maybe zaia had a point. maybe pretending to be with trent, even if it was just for the cameras, was the clean break she needed.

later that week, trent found himself pacing around his living room, phone in hand. it had been days since the meeting at the label, and he hadn't heard a word from y/n. it wasn’t like he expected her to reach out—she’d made it pretty clear how much she didn’t want anything to do with him. but the silence, the radio silence, was starting to get under his skin. she was being petty, and for some reason, that irritated him even more.

he glanced down at the number he'd gotten from ayesha, sighing. "guess i'm the one who has to be the adult here," he muttered, dialing the number.

the phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a soft, unfamiliar voice finally answered.

"hello?" y/n’s voice came through, cautious and unsure, as if she didn’t know who it was.

trent smirked to himself. of course, she didn’t save my number.

"y/n. it’s trent."

there was a brief pause on the other end. he could almost imagine her blinking in surprise, her posture stiffening at the unexpected call.

"trent," she repeated slowly, as if testing the name on her tongue. "how did you get my number?"

"ayesha," he said simply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "i figured we needed to talk, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me since last week."

"i haven’t been avoiding you." her tone was sharp, defensive. "i’ve just been... busy."

trent rolled his eyes. "right. well, we can’t exactly keep this up. we need to figure this out sooner rather than later."

"figure what out?" her voice was laced with irritation, like she didn’t even want to entertain the conversation.

"the arrangement. the contract," trent said, trying to keep his voice steady, though her attitude was starting to get under his skin again. "we have to be on the same page if this is gonna work."

there was another pause, and he could hear her exhale on the other end. "fine. when and where?"

he raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of heart. "you’re agreeing to meet?"

"didn’t you just say we need to?" she shot back, sounding exasperated. "let’s just get it over with. when?"

"tonight. my place," he said quickly, not giving her a chance to back out. "i’ll text you the address."

there was a brief hesitation before she agreed. "fine. i’ll be there."

trent hung up, a sense of relief washing over him—but also a lingering annoyance. this wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she was willing to meet. 

now all he had to do was figure out how to navigate whatever was about to come next. because if their phone call was anything to go by, this arrangement was already off to a rocky start.

trent tossed his phone onto the counter, the clatter echoing through the quiet room. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up on him. it was just business, just a deal they were both locked into for the next six months. but something about the way y/n had been so indifferent, so cold on the phone, kept replaying in his mind.

he leaned back against the counter, staring out the window. his thoughts drifted, uninvited, to jadon sancho. were they still seeing each other? were they still tangled up in whatever mess they had going on? the idea of y/n being laid up with jadon, while pretending to be in a relationship with him, didn’t sit right. it wasn't just about the contract or the public image—it was something else, something more personal. 

he hated the thought of her, in the middle of the night, pressed against jadon’s chest, laughing at something stupid he said. he knew sancho; they’d been teammates. he’d seen the way women flocked to him, the easy smile, the charm he laid on so thick. but y/n —she was something else. she wasn’t just another girl. he’d seen the way she carried herself, the way she didn’t let people, especially men, walk all over her. that fiery tongue, the way she wasn’t impressed by who he was. it had struck a nerve, one that was still stinging.

what did she even see in sancho?

trent couldn't help but scoff at the thought. he’s your type, sancho would joke—like types meant anything when you were faking love for the cameras. but still, the idea of her being involved with him while they carried on this charade made trent’s stomach twist. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. no, it was just the optics of it, the idea that they couldn’t have their cover blown because y/n couldn't stay away from someone else.

trent crossed his arms, his irritation simmering as he recalled those nights at the club. he could still picture it: jadon, with that arrogant grin plastered on his face, always clinging to y/n like she was the only thing that mattered in the crowded room. it grated on trent's nerves to see how sancho paraded around her, as if he had it all figured out, as if she was just another trophy to display. 

but the truth was, it was clear to anyone who bothered to look closely: y/n had the upper hand. 

she played her cards with effortless grace, keeping sancho in the palm of her delicate hand. there was a fire in her eyes, a spark that made her untouchable, and yet, there she was, tangled up in a relationship that was anything but simple. while sancho flexed his charm and dominance, y/n stood confidently, unbothered, perfectly aware of the control she wielded. 

trent hated that he was even thinking about this. it was just another reason to keep his distance, to remind himself that they were supposed to be faking it, not getting caught up in whatever drama her past with jadon might bring. but the more he replayed those moments in his mind, the more he questioned whether she had really moved on from sancho or if she was just playing a deeper game, one that trent didn’t fully understand. 

did she only agree to use him to get back at jadon?

he couldn't help but wonder how she would fit into this new chapter of his life, this ridiculous arrangement they were about to start. 

he pushed himself off the counter, trying to shake the thoughts away. he needed to focus on the contract, the arrangement, and how to make it work. but no matter how hard he tried, the idea of y/n and jadon—together, intimately—kept gnawing at the back of his mind.

what kind of game was she playing?

trent couldn’t deny the tension building within him as he stood outside y/n’s condo, waiting for her to join him for the charity event. this was their second public outing together, another step in their carefully curated façade. the night was supposed to be simple: smiles for the cameras, casual conversation with his teammates, and just enough chemistry to keep the tabloids buzzing.

but nothing about y/n was simple, and he felt the weight of that as he stared at her building, checking his phone for the fifth time.

when the door finally opened, he looked up, and his breath hitched in his throat. y/n stood framed by the soft glow of her entryway, draped in a black gown that demanded attention. the corset top sculpted her figure flawlessly, emphasizing her curves and leaving just enough to the imagination. a black fur coat hung over her shoulders, but it couldn’t mask how stunning she looked.

“you’re staring,” she teased as she approached, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

trent blinked, realizing he hadn’t said a word. “just… making sure you’re ready,” he muttered, clearing his throat and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“oh, i’m ready,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smirk as she brushed past him toward his car.

in the confines of the car, the tension was palpable. the scent of her perfume filled the space, soft yet intoxicating, and every shift of her body drew his attention. the slit in her gown revealed a flash of her leg when she crossed them, and trent gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

“you alright there?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah. fine,” he replied curtly, focusing on the road.

when they arrived at the venue, the coat check left him momentarily speechless. as y/n slipped off her coat, her gown came into full view, shimmering under the light and accentuating every inch of her. the neckline dipped just enough to make his throat dry, and the fitted corset made her look like a vision of elegance and allure combined.

he didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened as he noticed the appreciative glances she was drawing from others in the room.

“you good?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed her coat to the attendant.

“fine,” he said, his tone clipped.

but he wasn’t fine. not when he spent the first hour of the event watching as his teammates approached her, drawn in by her charm. he had deliberately kept his distance, convinced that avoiding her was the best way to keep his own emotions in check. but when he saw ryan gravenberch leaning a little too close as she laughed at something he said, trent felt his patience snap.

as he approached them, he caught the tail end of their conversation. y/n was smiling, her posture relaxed, and ryan looked equally at ease.

“everything okay here?” trent asked, his voice deceptively casual as he joined them.

y/n glanced at him, her smile fading slightly as she registered his tone. “yeah, everything’s fine. ryan was just telling me about—”

“i bet he was,” trent interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at his teammate. “you’ve got a girlfriend, don’t you, ryan?”

ryan frowned, straightening up. “uh, yeah. i do.”

“right,” trent said, his gaze shifting to y/n. “you’ve got a type, don’t you? footballers.”

y/n’s smile faltered, the slight stiffening of her shoulders the only indication she’d heard him. but trent could tell. he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, the way she blinked rapidly as if trying to push it away.

“excuse me,” she said suddenly, standing up and walking away from the table, her posture rigid as she stormed off toward the coat check.

trent cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. they’d been getting along—she’d even seemed to be enjoying herself—and he’d ruined it. again.

he rushed after her, weaving through the crowd until he finally caught up to her at the coat check. “y/n, wait,” he called, reaching for her arm, but she pulled away, her expression icy.

“don’t,” she snapped, turning to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. “if you’re just going to play into their hand and paint me out to be some sort of slut, we might as well rip up that contract right now.”

trent blinked, taken aback by her words. “that’s not what i—”

“no, trent, don’t even try,” she interrupted, her voice shaking slightly. “you don’t get to slut shame me. you don’t get to make comments like that just because i’ve been involved with someone you know.”

“you really think that little of me, don’t you? that i’d flirt with someone who has a girlfriend? that i’d stoop that low?” she said, her voice trembling slightly with restrained fury.

“i didn’t say—”

“you didn’t have to,” she cut him off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you just implied it. because that’s what you think of me, isn’t it? just some girl who’s here for a good time, here to play the part you need me to play.”

trent opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t done.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “and you clearly don’t care to. all you see is what you want to see, and that’s on you, not me.”

she turned on her heel, heading for the coat check, but he followed her, grabbing her arm gently.

“y/n, wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

“don’t,” she snapped, pulling her arm free. “if you’re just going to insult me and humiliate me in front of your teammates, don’t bother pretending to care now.”

“that’s not what I meant—”

“then what did you mean?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell sounded like you were slut-shaming me for talking to someone who was just being nice. god, even jadon—”

her voice broke off, and she shook her head, blinking back tears.

“what?” trent asked, his own frustration bubbling up. “even jadon what?”

“even jadon never made me feel this small,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “and that’s saying something.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him standing there, speechless, as she grabbed her coat and walked away.

-

the next day, guilt clung to trent like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. he was at training, but his head wasn’t in it. every missed pass, every half-hearted sprint, earned him sidelong glances from his teammates and sharp words from his coach. but nothing could pull him out of the haze he was in, the words y/n had thrown at him replaying in his mind like a broken record.

"even jadon never made me feel this small.”

he swallowed hard, his throat dry as the memory resurfaced again. the crack in her voice, the way she blinked back tears she refused to shed in front of him. the way she’d walked out, her coat clutched tightly around her like armor, leaving him standing there, too stunned to follow.

trent scrubbed a hand over his face, dragging himself back to the present as the whistle blew to end the session. he barely registered the chatter around him as he trudged off the pitch, his phone burning a hole in his pocket. he'd already called her twice this morning, only for it to go straight to voicemail. no response to his texts either.

she was airing him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

meanwhile, y/n was at a café with zai, trying to push the events of the night before out of her mind. the warm, buzzing atmosphere should’ve been enough to distract her, but her thoughts kept drifting back to trent, to his sharp words and the guilt that had flashed in his eyes when she’d finally snapped.

“you’re quiet,” zai noted, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “and don’t tell me it’s nothing. i know that look.”

y/n sighed, stirring her tea absently. “it’s just... men.”

zai raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “is this about trent? or jadon?”

the mention of his name made her flinch, and she hated how easily it still got under her skin. “it’s not about jadon,” she said, a little too quickly. “but it doesn’t matter. it’s just... the same story, different guy. i don’t know why i’m surprised anymore.”

zai frowned, concern flickering across her face. “what happened?”

y/n hesitated, debating whether she even wanted to get into it. but the weight on her chest was too much to carry alone. “he accused me of flirting with someone. like, out of nowhere. and when i tried to explain, he doubled down. it was like...” her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. “it was like i was back there again, with jadon, having to defend myself for existing. except this time, it’s not even real. it’s fake, and it still hurts.”

zai reached across the table, squeezing her hand. “y/n, you don’t have to put up with this. fake or not.”

“i know,” she whispered, but even as she said it, her resolve wavered.

because the truth was, she did have to put up with it. the contract was clear, and the charity event was coming up fast. she had to face him again by the end of the week, had to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine for the cameras.

but in the quiet corners of her mind, the cracks were already forming. she thought about all the times she’d been here before, swallowing her pride, her hurt, just to keep the peace. with jadon, with other men before him, and now with trent.

it was always the same pattern. they’d charm her at first, make her believe she was special, different. and then, slowly, the cracks would show. the accusations, the jealousy, the little digs at her character that piled up until she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

trent’s words from the night before rang in her ears again, sharp and cutting. she’d thought, maybe naively, that because this was fake, it wouldn’t hurt. that she could separate herself from it. but now, she wasn’t so sure.

“i’ll get through it,” she said finally, forcing a smile for zai’s sake. “it’s just one night. i’ve handled worse.”

but even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a lie. because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that this was just another performance, the truth was far messier.

she didn’t want to admit how deeply his words had cut, how much they reminded her of jadon and the way he used to chip away at her confidence until there was nothing left.

but at least with trent, it wasn’t real.

that thought was supposed to bring her comfort, but instead, it left a hollow ache in her chest. because if even something fake could hurt this much, what did that say about her?

that night, trent sat on the edge of his bed that night, phone in hand, staring at her contact. he’d tried calling her again after training, but still nothing. the silence was deafening, and he hated it. hated knowing he’d hurt her, hated the thought of her comparing him to jadon and coming up short.

he typed out another message, his thumb hovering over the send button.

"y/n, i’m sorry."

it wasn’t enough, he knew that. but he didn’t know what else to say. didn’t know how to fix the mess he’d made.

he hit send anyway, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. the apology sat there, unread, like a weight in the pit of his stomach.

the soft glow of string lights hanging over the patio of the upscale restaurant did little to mask the tension simmering between y/n and trent. their first public outing as a "couple" was supposed to be for show, a chance to create a picture-perfect moment for the cameras. but the peaceful evening was long gone, replaced by an undercurrent of bickering that neither of them could quite rein in.

trent sat across from her, arms crossed, clearly irritated as he watched y/n type away on her phone, her attention fully absorbed by whatever message she was sending. he knew exactly who it was. sancho. the very mention of his name was enough to ignite a spark of frustration in trent, and the fact that she was texting him right in front of him? it was pushing him to his limit.

“really?” trent muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “you’re gonna sit there texting him all night?”

y/n didn’t even bother looking up, her thumb casually swiping across the screen as she typed. “jealous already? we’ve only been ‘dating’ for what—an hour?” she shot him a sideways glance, a smirk playing at her lips, knowing she was getting under his skin.

trent’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward slightly. “it’s not jealousy. it’s just pathetic that you’re still hung up on a guy who clearly doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s eyebrows shot up, finally looking up from her phone to meet his gaze. “oh, so you’re keeping tabs on me now? since when do you care who i talk to?”

“i don’t,” he shot back, his voice sharper than he intended. “but if we’re supposed to be playing this fake relationship game, maybe you should stop texting the guy who’s making a fool out of you.”

y/n let out a low, amused laugh, clearly unfazed by his comment. “oh, please. jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. you wouldn’t get it.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah? and what’s that supposed to mean? you think he’s treating you right just because he sends a few sweet texts?”

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “he knows how to keep things interesting. maybe that’s something you could learn from him.”

trent’s eyes darkened, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. “yeah, well, from where i’m sitting, it looks like you’re the one doing all the chasing. does he even text you back as fast as you’re glued to your phone?”

y/n narrowed her eyes at him, her playful smirk slipping as his words hit a little too close to home. “funny. but you don’t know shit about what’s going on between me and jadon.”

“i know enough,” trent shot back, his voice low and laced with irritation. “i know he’s got you running in circles, thinking you’ve got him where you want him when really, he’s just stringing you along.”

y/n’s eyes flashed with defiance as she leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she closed the distance between them. “you think you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you? jadon knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do i. i have him wrapped around my finger, not the other way around.”

trent leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut. “is that what you really think? because from where i’m sitting, you look like you’re trying way too hard to convince yourself of that.”

y/n didn’t flinch, her smirk returning as she dropped her voice to a teasing whisper. “why? you jealous, trent? does it bother you that i can have him, and you’re just playing pretend?”

before trent could respond, y/n leaned forward even further, deliberately letting the neckline of her top dip just enough to catch his attention. trent’s gaze flickered down for the briefest second—a moment so quick he hoped she wouldn’t notice. but she did. and y/n, ever the opportunist, wasn’t about to let it slide.

“oh?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “you can’t even look me in the eye now, can you? maybe you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

trent’s face tightened, his expression darkening as he forced himself to meet her gaze again, refusing to let her win. “you really think everyone wants you, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.

y/n leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly enjoying the game she was playing. “not everyone,” she said with a smirk, her eyes dancing with mischief. “but you do.”

trent scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re unbelievable.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her smile never faltering. “unbelievable or right?”

trent exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his cool. “this is exactly what i mean. you’re so caught up in the attention, in thinking everyone’s after you, that you can’t see how messy this is.”

“messy?” y/n echoed, feigning innocence. “i don’t think it’s messy at all. i think you’re the one who’s flustered. i mean, it’s cute—your little attempt at being unaffected—but i know when a guy wants me.”

trent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he glared at her. “you think i’m flustered? please. you’re just pissed because i’m not falling for your bullshit like sancho does.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “nah, you’re pissed because deep down, you’re just as interested as he is. you’re just better at hiding it.”

trent’s eyes flashed with irritation. “if you think i’m interested, then you really don’t know me at all.”

“oh, i know you,” she shot back, her tone teasing but with a sharper edge now. “i know that little glance wasn’t just out of curiosity. you can act all high and mighty, but i can see right through you, trent.”

trent clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he forced himself to stay calm. “you’re so full of yourself, you know that?”

“maybe,” she shrugged, her smirk only growing wider. “but you’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

trent let out a frustrated breath, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“oh, is that what you’re doing?” y/n teased, her voice light and mocking. “keeping me in check? because it seems like you’re the one who can’t handle the heat.”

trent’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “you can play your games with sancho all you want, but don’t drag me into it.”

y/n’s smile widened as she leaned forward again, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “who says i’m playing games? maybe i just like getting under your skin.”

trent’s gaze flickered to hers, his frustration clear in his expression. “trust me, you’re not getting under my skin. i just think it’s sad you’re still hung up on a guy who doesn’t care about you.”

y/n’s smirk faltered for a split second before she recovered, her tone sharp as she responded. “and i think it’s sad you’re unbothered when you clearly are.”

trent stared at her, the tension between them crackling like static in the air. they were supposed to be putting on a show, a fake relationship for the cameras, but the lines between reality and pretense were starting to blur. and as much as he hated to admit it, y/n was getting to him.

but he wasn’t about to let her know that. not yet, anyway.

they left the café with tension so thick it was suffocating, y/n’s heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she trailed slightly behind trent. he strode ahead, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, barely sparing her a glance. the entire date had been a disaster—if you could even call it a date. trent hadn’t looked at her, let alone spoken to her, during the meal. he barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes fixed anywhere but on her.

y/n bit her lip, her frustration bubbling to the surface. she was tired of his dismissive attitude. “you know, for someone who’s supposed to be my date,” she called out, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “you’re really bad at it.”

trent didn’t slow down. his long strides made her struggle to keep up, but he didn’t care. “i’m not here to hold your hand,” he said flatly, still refusing to turn around.

y/n quickened her pace, falling into step beside him. “clearly. you’re more interested in ignoring me than pretending this is a real date.”

his jaw tightened, but his expression remained cold. “maybe i just don’t feel like playing into your games.”

“games?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “what games, trent? this whole fake-dating thing was your idea, remember?”

he finally stopped walking, turning to face her with an irritated glare. “yeah, fake,” he muttered, his voice sharp. “but you’re treating it like it’s just another excuse to text him.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. “what are you even talking about?”

trent’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “you’ve been glued to your phone all night. let me guess—sancho?”

her stomach twisted at the mention of jadon. “oh my god, you’re unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “i wasn’t texting him.”

“sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “because it’s not obvious or anything. you’re always distracted, smiling at his messages. it’s pathetic.”

her chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. “you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, her voice rising. “and even if i was texting him, it’s none of your business.”

trent’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, his tone low but biting. “it is my business. we’re supposed to be selling this ‘happy couple’ act, but you can’t even pretend to be here with me.”

she took a step back, her frustration boiling over. “you ignored me the entire night, trent! you barely even looked at me, and now you’re trying to make me the problem?”

he scoffed, his voice cold. “why bother looking at someone who’s clearly not interested in being here?”

“are you serious right now?” y/n’s voice cracked, the weight of his accusations suffocating her. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“don’t i?” he shot back. “every time we’re together, it’s like you’re somewhere else. you’re not here, y/n. you’re always thinking about someone else.”

her throat tightened as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. she refused to let them fall. “you’re wrong,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “this isn’t about jadon. it’s about you.”

trent’s brows furrowed, his confusion momentarily breaking through his anger. “me?”

“yes, you,” she said, her voice steadier now. “you’re so focused on who you think i’m texting, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. you’ve been cold and distant all night, and i’m the one who’s pathetic?”

his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. for the first time, he looked at her—really looked at her—and the guilt in his eyes was unmistakable.

“i want to leave,” y/n said finally, her voice firm. she turned away before he could say anything else, her heels clicking briskly as she walked away.

“y/n—” he started, his voice softer now, but she didn’t stop.

“don’t, trent,” she said, her voice breaking. “i’m done for tonight.”

he stood there, watching her disappear into the crowd, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. but his pride kept him silent, rooted in place as she walked out of sight.

the second date was arranged like the first—some picturesque café on a quiet street, perfect for photographs and social media buzz. but this time, y/n wasn’t going to be the one trying. she was done with his cold shoulder, his sharp words, and the way he acted like her presence was some sort of inconvenience. if trent wanted to treat this arrangement like a game, then fine. she’d play it better.

she arrived on time, wearing a sleek black midi dress and a pair of delicate heels that gave her an air of effortless elegance. she hadn’t bothered to look for him when she walked up to the café. instead, she let the hostess guide her to their reserved table on the patio. trent was already seated, casually scrolling through his phone, his jawline sharp as ever, and a faint furrow in his brow.

"y/n," he greeted, glancing up briefly before looking back down at his screen.

she didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a polite smile as she pulled out her chair and sat down. the silence stretched, taut and uncomfortable, but she kept her composure, smoothing her dress over her knees and ignoring the way his gaze flickered toward her once, twice.

he cleared his throat, finally slipping his phone into his pocket. “you’re quiet today,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

she picked up the menu, her eyes scanning the items as if she hadn’t heard him.

trent’s brows knit together. “everything alright?”

still, she said nothing, her attention fixed on the menu. she wasn’t being overtly rude, but her indifference was deliberate, precise.

“y/n,” he said again, more firmly this time. “i asked you a question.”

her lips twitched, a hint of amusement threatening to show, but she kept her expression neutral. finally, she lowered the menu, setting it down carefully on the table. she met his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again, pretending to admire the flowers in the centerpiece.

trent let out a frustrated exhale, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “are you seriously not going to talk to me?”

she tilted her head slightly, her eyes still fixed on the flowers as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. her silence was driving him mad, and she knew it.

“alright,” he said, his tone sharp with irritation. “what’s this about? the other night?”

she finally looked at him then, her expression blank, save for the faintest arch of her brow. his frustration deepened, the tension in his shoulders more visible now.

“look,” he started, running a hand through his curls, “if you’re mad about what i said, i—”

her phone buzzed on the table, and without a word, she picked it up, unlocking it with a casual swipe and scrolling through her notifications.

trent’s jaw clenched. “are you serious?”

she ignored him, tapping out a quick reply to a text before setting her phone back down. she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and gave him a look that said are you done?

trent leaned closer, his voice low and biting. “you’re acting like a child.”

that earned him a reaction—her lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. “oh, now you care about how i’m acting?” she said sweetly, her voice light but cutting. “interesting.”

he blinked, caught off guard by her sudden words. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” she said with a shrug, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “just an observation.”

he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. “so this is payback, huh? silent treatment? acting like i’m not here?”

her smile widened, but she didn’t respond. instead, she reached for her water glass, taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.

“y/n,” he said, his voice firm now, “stop playing around.”

“why?” she asked, setting the glass down and leaning forward slightly. “don’t like it when someone treats you the way you treat them?”

trent’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. she had him cornered, and they both knew it.

“you’ve been impossible,” he said finally, his tone softer but still laced with frustration. “i’m trying here, alright?”

her brow shot up. “trying? really? because ignoring me, snapping at me, and barely looking at me the other night didn’t exactly scream effort.”

his jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face for just a moment. “i was—” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “i wasn’t in the best mood.”

“clearly,” she said dryly, leaning back in her chair. “but you still managed to make it my problem.”

“i didn’t mean to,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “look, i know i’ve been... difficult. but this whole thing—” he gestured between them—“it’s not exactly easy, alright? pretending like this is real when it’s not.”

“not easy for you?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “you think it’s a walk in the park for me? dealing with your attitude, your assumptions, your—” she cut herself off, shaking her head. “forget it.”

“no, go on,” he pressed, leaning closer. “say it.”

she met his gaze, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your ego,” she said bluntly. “you act like you’re the only one who has to deal with the pressure, like this whole thing revolves around you.”

his brows furrowed, her words clearly hitting a nerve. “that’s not what i think.”

“isn’t it?” she challenged. “because that’s exactly how it feels.”

trent sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. for a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just nodded. “maybe you’re right.”

her eyes widened slightly, surprised by his admission. “what?”

“you’re right,” he repeated, his voice more measured now. “i’ve been... selfish about this. i didn’t think about how it’s been for you.”

she studied him, trying to gauge whether he was being sincere. “and?”

“what do you want from me, y/n?” he asked, his voice sharp but tinged with desperation.

she stopped, too, slowly turning back to face him. for a moment, she just stood there, her phone in her hand, her expression unreadable. then, with deliberate slowness, she set her phone down on the small café table beside her and leaned back against the chair with her arms crossed.

that look.

it wasn’t just her posture, though that alone was commanding—poised and unapologetically confident. it was the way her light brown, bone-straight locks framed her face like a halo, each strand catching the golden light of the setting sun. her dark, glossy lips curved slightly, like she was on the verge of laughing at him. but it was her eyes that made his breath hitch, piercing and unyielding, filled with a quiet power that made him feel like she could see every corner of his soul.

trent felt pinned under her gaze, completely enthralled. for a moment, he forgot to breathe. in his mind, she was a force he could never hope to control, and for the first time in forever, he realized he didn’t want to.

“i want an apology,” she said finally, her voice calm but firm, as though the entire world bent to her will.

he didn’t even hesitate. “i’m sorry,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

her brows lifted in amusement, and a surprised laugh slipped past her lips, soft and melodic. “wow,” she said, leaning forward slightly, a teasing glint in her eye. “that was... fast.”

“because i mean it,” he said, his voice steady now, though his heart raced. “you were right, y/n. about all of it. i’ve been selfish and short with you when you didn’t deserve it. this whole thing’s been frustrating, but that’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you.”

her lips parted slightly in surprise, and he noticed how her expression softened, just a fraction. “go on,” she said, though her teasing tone couldn’t quite hide the genuine curiosity beneath it.

trent took a step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets as if grounding himself. “i’ve been taking my frustration out on you because it’s easier than admitting this arrangement has gotten to me. but you don’t deserve that. if anything, you deserve better than... whatever this is.”

for a moment, she didn’t respond, just studied him with that same piercing gaze. then, slowly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned back, her expression unreadable.

“you’re lucky i’m giving you another chance,” she said, though her tone was lighter now, teasing.

“i’ll take it,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “and i’ll do better. i promise.”

she tilted her head, a flicker of something warmer passing over her face. “you’re serious, huh?”

“dead serious,” he said without missing a beat. “whatever it takes to fix this.”

she gave him a long look before finally nodding, a smile playing on her lips. “alright then,” she said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “you can start by buying me a coffee.”

trent chuckled, his frustration melting into something softer, something lighter. “deal.”

“you’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered, when he returned with her coffee a small smile tugging at her lips.

trent let out a low laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension. “that’s all i’ve got going for me, huh?”

“pretty much,” she teased, her tone lighter now. “but don’t push it. i’m still mad.”

he smirked, leaning back in his chair. “noted.”

it wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was enough for now. as they sat there, the silence between them was no longer cold or uncomfortable—it was something softer, a tentative truce.

as they walked back toward the café’s entrance, side by side, he noticed the way she didn’t pull away when his shoulder brushed hers. it wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was a start. and for the first time, trent felt like they might actually figure this thing out together.

© PDRIESTA 2024

[the-offside-rule]

Trent Alexander - Arnold (Liverpool) - Interrupted

Day 20 of Christmas

Prompt: joint Christmas

25 Days Of Christmas

This was a mistake. All of this was a mistake. You see, back in November, Y/n and Trent made the decision to bring their families together for Christmas, so they didn't have to slend it apart again. They were determined to make this day special, despite the usual chaos that family gatherings entailed. On Christmas Eve, they spent the entire day shopping for food, ensuring they had enough to go around. They were tight for time, and Trent being stopped for photos every few minutes was nlt helping. He was a whirlwind of activity, dashing from shop to shop, while Y/n tried to keep up, chuckling at his determination. "We need to make this perfect." He insisted, grinning as he stacked boxes of decorations. "My mum will have a fit if she thinks we haven’t cleaned the house properly."

"Don’t worry, we’ll get it done." Y/n reassured him, grabbing some bread and chucking it into the trolley. "I don't know how you can be so calm. Your parents are coming over too, you know." Y/n nodded. "Believe me, I know. They've been keeping me updated on their whereabouts."

When they returned home, the couple dove into cleaning the house, ensuring everything was perfect. "Why dpes it feel like we’re hosting a royal banquet?" Y/n laughed as she hoovered the carpets. Trent smirked, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "Because we basically are! I mean, who else can say they’re hosting two families at once?"

Just as they were finishing up, the doorbell rang, much earlier than expected. They exchanged wide-eyed glances, and Y/n hurried to open the door. "Great! Just what we needed." Trent muttered, giving her a playful nudge as they rushed to the door. He opened it to reveal his mum, beaming brightly, followed closely by Y/n's parents. "Surprise!" Trent’s mum exclaimed, stepping inside with a basket of baked goods. "I brought some celebrtions, and quality streets and-"

"Thanks, Mum!" Trent replied, his face warming with embarrassment as he took in the state of their home. Y/n looked behind them to see her parents carrying a suitcase. Oh boy, this was a bad idea. As the families poured in, the house quickly filled with chaos. It was much louder than they liked, usually not shouting or speaking over one another, but what did they expect when they invited both families?

"Oh, I can help with the cleaning." Trent's mother offered, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Y/n chuckled, watching Trent’s face turn crimson. “Uh, no, really! We’ve got it covered—” But before she could finish her sentence, Y/N’s mum chimed in. "Oh, I’ll help too! You two have been working all day, no doubt." Y/n's mum said taking the hoover from her. "Perfect." Trent said, trying to hide his mortification as the two mothers started organizing the kitchen.

The house soon transformed into a hub of activity. The kitchen was crowded with women chopping vegetables and preparing dishes, while children dashed around excitedly, their laughter ringing through the air. In the games room, the men gathered around the pool table, discussing strategy as they prepared for a few friendly games. As Y/n stirred a pot on the stove, Trent's mum leaned in, a nostalgic smile on her face. "Did I ever tell you about the time Trent used to want to lick the spoon after we baked Christmas biscuits?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "No, you haven’t. Tell me more!" Y/n chuckled. "Every single time we baked, he’d try to sneak a lick! Such a cheeky boy." She laughed, shaking her head. Just then, the kitchen door swung open, and Trent stepped in, sporting a new scarlet jumper. With a mischievous grin, he grabbed the empty spoon from the bowl and scooped any excess icing left. "This is the best part." He declared, popping the spoon into his mouth. "Nothing goes to waste in this house." He said, smirking at Y/n and his mother. Y/n chuckled, shaking her head at him. "You never change, do you?"

Later that evening, after dinner had settled and the laughter of family echoed throughout the house, Y/n finally had a moment to breathe. She excused herself and headed to their en-suite bathroom for a long-awaited shower. As the warm water cascaded over her, she felt the tension of the day melt away. Just as she was settling into relaxation, Trent stepped in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Mind if I join?"

"Not at all." She replied, smiling as she turned to face him. "I’ll wash your hair for you. Just relax." He said, gently taking the shampoo from her hand. As he massaged her scalp, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. "Thank you." She whispered, leaning back against him. It felt so nice to finally be alone after the whirlwind of the day. "Anything for you." He murmured back, and their lips met softly, the kiss quickly growing deeper and more passionate. The moment grew more intimate, steam filling the bathroom as their kisses deepened, hearts racing. Trent's hands roamed her body as he nipped and kissed the skin of her neck, quirt moans leaving Y/n's mouth.

Just as they were lost in each other, a knock echoed through the door, breaking the spell. "Trent, where do you keep your towels? I need to shower!" His mum called out, making Trent pull her closer in case she decided to come in. Y/n couldn’t help but burst out laughing, while Trent groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Of all the times. He muttered, shaking his head. "I forgot we’re not quite alone yet." Y/n giggled, trying to stifle her laughter. Trent opened the door slightly. "They’re in the cupboard next to the sink! Just, uh… give me a minute and I'll get you one!"

As his mum left, Y/n leaned against him, both of them chuckling at the sudden intrusion. "Well, that was unexpected." She said, looking up at him with playful eyes. Trent smirked, pulling her in for another quick kiss. "This is why we can’t have nice things!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, that was the least romantic interruption ever."

"Welcome to family Christmas." Trent groaned, as he pulled away reluctantly to go help his mum. "I guess we’re done for now?" She teased, trying to contain her giggles. "For now." He sighed, clearly reluctant to part from their moment. "Well, there's always next time." Y/n chuckled as she turned the water off. "Yeah, next time I’ll lock the door." He smirked as he hopped out and flinging a towel around him to go help his mother.

[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

[sportswriters]

how they'd react to you not saying "i love you" back

lots of fluff with the players: rúben dias, jude bellingham, joão félix, pablo gavi, trent alexander-arnold, pedri gonzález, heungmin son, mason mount

a/n: hope everybody have fun reading these! we surely did after a few drinks in <33333

rúben dias

"amor? i'm heading out. i love you."

you quickly appear in the hallway, wearing a sweater that belonged to him.

“ok, have a nice day, darling,” you reply, waving goodbye.

the smile that had begun to appear on rúben's lips immediately fades, his hand resting against the doorknob he had opened earlier. when he hears your reply, he frowns, suspicious.

you get confused by his attitude and lick your lips, coming closer.

“what are you doing? i thought you had training.”

he doesn't answer right away, he just walks over to the sofa and sits down, unpretentiously. your lack of an answer made him a little suspicious, so he wasn't going to leave without something.

“yes, i do. but not until you answer me.”

you try to hold in your laughter, understanding the whole thing, but you still don't want to give in. his reaction wasn't what you'd expected. like, you didn't really expect him to just give up on going out just because you didn't answer his “i love you” like you always did.

you understood that it was really important to him.

“i don't get it, honey. did i answer you in a way that you didn't like?” you hold up your own joke, walking over to the sofa and sitting down right next to him.

as if he couldn't bear to never touch you when you were always close, his hand automatically moves to your thigh, where he squeezes it affectionately, almost unconsciously, because it's something he always does.

his expression closes with pure suspicion. he simply doesn't understand what had happened for you not to answer that you loved him back. until that point, for him, everything was fine. wasn't it?

“you tell me, y/n.”

his expression is so serious that you can't help yourself and start laughing. you quickly jump into his lap, turning him from suspicious to confused by your reaction. you hold his face with both hands.

“do you want me to tell you that I love you?” you ask, this time with a touched smile on your face.

he's so beautiful. so dangerously beautiful for his own good and sometimes you don't really believe he's yours.

he squeezes your thigh a little harder this time, as a warning.

“every day,” he adds, seriously.

you kiss his lips, laughing.

“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you,” you start repeating several times against his lips. “i was only joking before. i wouldn't let you go without that.”

his smile returns to his lips. it was so easy to make him happy like that, you think, caressing his cheek.

“well,” he complains. “you almost did. now i'm going to be late for training because you're going to try and convince me that it was all a joke.”

you laugh and cling to him.

“wow, i fucking love you.”

jude bellingham

with things finally sorted, jude opens the door and you get out of bed just to follow him and take the opportunity to get a glass of water, since it's your day off and you're going back to your room.

“i'm leaving, baby. i love you, see you later?”

“yes, of course. good practice,” you say and walk into the kitchen.

jude blinks, confused. his eyebrows arch up, frowning as he tries to search for something in his memory that he can't recall. your answer was different from usual.

with that in mind, he opens the door and leaves, but still doesn't move to the elevator. instead, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, unlocks the screen and opens the group immediately.

“guys, did anything weird happen last night?” he sends the text and waits.

last night there was a small party at valverde's house, which you two joined and drank a bit. maybe jude did something he doesn't remember that upset you.

the answer comes almost immediately and he reads it.

“strange, like...?” camavinga asks.

“i don't know,” he types. “something that pissed y/n off?”

“what the fuck are you talking about, bellingham?” he reads the text from vinícius.

“i just said goodbye to y/n and she didn't say she loved me back”

on the other side of the door, you pick up your phone in your room, looking at the notifications. as you read everything, you laugh heartily.

“jude, you know I'm in the group too, right?” you send.

jude opens the door again after reading your message and goes straight to your room. he finds you sitting on the bed, still laughing, and you look up when you notice his presence, staring at him amused.

“so...?” he asks you, expecting an answer to the same question as before.

you laugh again and put your phone away. you get up and walk over to him, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“nothing weird happened last night,” you reply, with a playful smile. “i was only joking, darling. of course i love you”

you nearly laugh again at the relieved sigh he lets out and the way he holds you so tightly, kissing your lips.

joão félix

hanging his bag over his shoulder, joão kisses you on the temple in farewell, while you're still finishing your coffee to start getting ready for work, since you don't have to arrive until later today.

“i'm on my way. i love you,” he says, moving from the kitchen worktop to cross the hall to the living room.

“alright, i'll see you later!” you reply, pouring a little more milk into your coffee, without looking at him, appearing a little distracted by your task.

you don't notice that he didn't cross the hall. he just stands there, as if waiting for something, which doesn't come. that's not how you normally say goodbye, so he's instantly alert.

turning around, joão appears at your side again, hugging you from behind, his hands around your waist in a very tight way, giving you the chance to smell his perfume even more closely. you chuckle, not expecting this attitude from him and turn your face to him, frowning.

“is everything all right?” he asks, a little hesitant, and kisses your shoulder affectionately.

the whole time his eyes are on you, as if he's studying your reaction, looking for something he didn't notice before or missed.

“yes... why wouldn't it be?”

you know why he's asking, but you don't say anything. you just carry on. just a little longer. even though you're sorry to see him with that expression of someone who thinks he's done something wrong, but hasn't yet found out what.

“like, there hasn't been any more shit gossip that you've been tagged in, right? anything like that?”

you lick your lips, staring into his eyes. ever since you started your public relationship, some people have been cruel enough to say things about you cheating on him, like his ex, that you wouldn't know how to take care of his heart and other shit. at first, this affected you and also worried joão, but then you dropped all those negative comments, focusing only on the good things with him.

“no, darling, there hasn’t” you reassure him, kissing his lips quickly, turning to face him, his hands never leaving you. “why now?”

he squeezes your waist.

“ah, you didn't say you love me back” he replies. “and you always do, right?”

you finally let out a laugh. he's confused, so you wrap your hands around his neck.

“i was joking, love,” you say, smiling. “i got you used to it, didn't i?”

relief washes over him instantly and he smiles.

“wouldn't that be a bad thing?” he tries to correct.

you widen your smile and shake your head.

“no, i've got you used to it very well,” you reinforce. “because that's the least you deserve: to hear every day that i love you. i love you.”

so he just kisses you, his heart warmer than ever, even though it's cold in chelsea.

pablo gavi

“did you get everything? aren't you forgetting anything?”

gavi checks his bag once more, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything after your question. when he seems sure, he quickly denies it with his head. 

“no, all set. shall we?”

you nod and pick up your own bag. you walk out together and enter the elevator hand in hand. you didn't live together, but sometimes you spent the night and went to work in the morning from his place, since some of your things were there and it made your life easier. it had been his idea and, even though you hesitated a little, you ended up accepting.

the elevator leaves you both in the parking lot, where your car is.

“see you later?” he asks and you nod, remembering that you were getting used to sleeping there more than once. “i love you.”

he kisses your lips and you return it, pulling away soon after.

“see you later, sweetheart.”

you say goodbye once more and walk to your car, ready to be on your way.

gavi stands still for a moment, trying to take in what has just happened. he watches as you get into your own car and drive past him, blowing a kiss into the air, but he can't even smile.

he stands there for a moment, feeling confused and odd, the situation was odd. you said goodbye to him in a strange way. 

now he was going to barcelona training with his head a little distracted. he couldn't keep up with the banter with the boys or do his best in practice. he seriously thought something was wrong with you, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what. 

his teammates asked him if he was all right or what was going on that had him so distracted, unable to concentrate one hundred percent on training. he would give a vague answer and carry on, even though his mind was wandering towards an answer that wasn't coming.

he thought a lot. about everything. about anything. he thought about texting you, but gave up. you always received a message from him every time he arrived at the training center, but this time he didn't. gavi simply didn't even think about it, his mind wandering back to the moment you said goodbye, trying to find out what had gone so wrong.

he tried to remember if he had missed anything, but he couldn't find it.

hours passed and it was time to go home again. you arrived first, a little tired, but you tried to prepare some homemade dinner to welcome him. gavi always arrived at the same time every day, on time, but on this one, he was ten minutes late.

you waited, sitting on the couch, watching some reality show that you didn't follow much, but that was what was passing your time. ten minutes later, you heard the door click.

when you turn to look at him, gavi goes off first, without even expecting anything beforehand.

“i just can't do it,” he begins, dropping his bag with his training stuff. “i've been thinking about it all day and i still can't reach a conclusion.”

you suppress a smile, but you're still a little confused.

“gavi?”

he looks at you, his shoulders slumped, his puss in boots expression.

“did i do something? are you upset about something? did something happen?” he fired off without taking a breath.

you pause the show and turn completely towards him, still sitting on the couch. you knew exactly what that meant, but you thought it would be fun to take it further.

“what do you mean ‘something?’ what are you talking about?” you play the fool.

gavi takes a deep breath. that had been torturing him all day. not even the smell of home-cooked food calms his nerves.

he approaches the couch.

“you didn't say you loved me back this morning,” he explains.

you try, but you can't suppress your laughter. you put your hand to your mouth, trying to control yourself, and gavi's expression changes.

“what's so funny?”

“baby, i was joking,” you confess.” i love you, gavi.”

you get up, trying to approach him while standing on the couch.

his mood changes. his eyes narrow towards you, trying to take in what you've just said.

“wait a minute, what?”

you laugh again.

“i was only joking. i didn't say i loved you this morning on purpose.”

you try to kiss him, but he pulls away, his expression tight.

“you…” he shakes his head, disbelieving that you had done it on purpose. he can't believe that he was stuck on it all day, while you knew it was a joke.

of course you let him think about it all day.

“that was ridiculous,” he says, still shaking his head and walking away, without giving you a chance to get closer and kiss him. “ridiculous, y/n.”

he walks down the corridor towards his room, totally shocked that it was all a joke, although part of him was relieved that everything was still fine and that he hadn't done anything wrong.

“come back here, it was a joke, baby!”

trent alexander-arnold

after checking his watch and realizing that he'd have to hurry if he wanted to be on time for practice, trent slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys from the bedside table. you were in the kitchen cleaning and rearranging some glasses to make room for the new wine ones you got as gifts. you'd almost forgotten about the prank you'd planned, but you only had to feel trent's kiss on your neck for a mischievous smile to appear on your face.

“i have to go, i love you. don't forget to check our reservation later.”

“ok, i'll let you know when i've confirmed it,” you replied, giving him a kiss.

trent smiled and made his way to the living room, then stopped. his head tilted slightly as if he were experiencing a sudden lightening.

“aren't you going to tell me you love me?!” he asked, still standing in the same spot.

“what? sorry, i'm distracted.”

“last chance!”

the sink tap was turned on, followed by other utensil noises. trent squinted his eyes and came back into the room to look at you – you really looked busy, too busy.

“hi, love. do you need anything else?”

trent arched an eyebrow.

“no, i'm on my way. love you.”

“ok, text me when you get there.”

silence.

“yeah, i'm going to spend a few days at dom's, good luck without me.”

he then dashed to the door, slamming it hard.

“what? trent!”

when you got there, you couldn't move the handle. it clearly wasn't locked, so you laughed in frustration when you realized what was going on.

“trent, i love you! it was a joke!”

you knew your boyfriend was considerably stronger, but you still tried to force the door once more. to no avail.

“oh yeah? now you do? didn't convince me.”

“you're going to be late!”

“this is more important, it's a life lesson.”

“fine! now let me see you and apologize properly,” you asked, resting your forehead on the door.

you stepped back when you felt the doorknob move slowly. there he was with the most unbearable expression of all and with his arms crossed, you soon knew that you would have a lot of work to do to make up for this great and terrible mistake.

you moved closer, uncrossed his arms and put them around your body.

“i love you very much, i just wanted to tease you with a little prank,” you said as you spread kisses along the length of his neck. “but you already knew that, right? you know i wouldn't let it slide.”

trent pouted, pretending to think about it, which shocked you. when you tried to pull away, he brought you back, smiling again – a genuinely cheeky smile.

“i know something would be very wrong if you'd forgotten, it's just that you're a pretty bad liar, so it was easy to figure out your little game.”

trent pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“just don't do it again, or i'll have to come up with my own pranks too.”

pedri gonzález

“damn, i'm really late,” you say, picking up the car keys and throwing them to pedri, who always seems to forget them when he goes out.

he picks up his bag and phone, quickly answering a message and looks up to see you putting on your heels, ready to leave together.

“i can drop you off at work,” he offers.

you wave your hand in denial.

“that means you'd be late, since it's the opposite direction. and we both know how coach flick feels about being late.”

he can't disagree and he knows you're right, but even so, his expression drops and you notice.

“it's okay, love. i've already called an uber,” you reassure him and pick up your own bag. “shall we?”

the two of you leave together and he locks the door to the apartment. since you always arrive first, he gives you back the key, because he always forgets to make his own copy, and you take the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.

“did gavi confirm dinner?” you ask.

“yes, we're coming together,” pedri replies.

you nod and when you finally reach the parking lot for pedri to take his car, you check on your phone that your uber will arrive in front of the building in two minutes. you tell him so.

“i'll see you later, then.” he leans in to give you a kiss and you reciprocate. “i love you.”

“good training, love,” you say and say goodbye, turning to leave.

you hide a smile, proud that you managed to remember to play a little prank on him before you left. pedri is confused, the gears of his brain turning slowly as he processes the fact that you didn't say you loved him back.

then you feel a hand grab your arm and turn you around – it's him.

“pedri?”

“should i apologize to you for something?” he asks, his voice a little uncertain.

“do you think you need to?”

the panic takes over his face and you can see that he's trying to remember what he did wrong. it was more likely that he wouldn't find out and would send a text to the boys, asking how he could best apologize, even if he didn't know what the mistake was.

“did i leave the wet towel on the bed again?” he asks, first try. “jesus, fer gave out my number again and some girl called and you got it all wrong?”

“fer hasn't done that since the last time i scolded him.”

you try not to laugh when you see how desperate he is.

“pedri, i have to go. the uber's coming.”

“no!” he holds your arm tighter. “you can't leave without telling me what i need to apologize for. you didn't say you loved me back.”

you laugh, giving up. the plan was really to leave without telling him, but his genuine distress made you realize that you couldn't let him torture himself the whole way wondering what he'd done wrong and what he needed to apologize for. you'd rather he concentrated one hundred percent and entirely on training.

“i was only joking, okay? there's nothing for you to apologize for, love.” you approach him, caressing his cheek affectionately. “not even for the towel, which, by the way, yes, you forgot it wet this morning.”

pedri rolls his eyes and pinches your waist lightly.

“no funny business, y/n.” he snorts.

but his unhappy frown doesn't last long when you kiss his lips gently, this time being the one to apologize. 

“i couldn't resist,” you say. “i really have to go now. i'll see you later.”

“and...?” he encourages, still not letting go.

you chuckle and hear the uber notification.

“and i love you.”

it's only when he finally seems satisfied that he lets you go, but still makes you delay a minute longer with a kiss on the lips.

heungmin son

you brought the jacket that heungmin had forgotten on the couch, so he could finally close his suitcase. he was preparing for the season with the Korean national team, so you took the opportunity to spend your days off together. this time you couldn't join heungmin on the trip because your work schedule didn't allow it.

the drive to the airport was smooth, while you hummed along to the songs on the radio, heungmin took the chance to doze off in the passenger seat - his hand resting on your thigh the whole ride. 

you parked at the entrance to the airline gate, as you had to say goodbye to him there.

“send me a picture of the snacks in first class on this plane,” you asked excitedly, even though it wasn't the first time.

heungmin laughed.

“i love you, take care on the way back and let me know when you arrive.”

you pressed his cheeks with your hands and kissed him several times.

“have a good trip.”

heungmin pulled away and stared at you with a broad smile. then he got out of the car and you opened the trunk so he could get his things. in the rearview mirror, you noticed when he closed the door and stared into the distance with a question mark on his face. it took you a great deal of effort to hold back your laughter when he tapped twice on the window right next to you.

“i'm going now, i love you.”

“all right, take care,” you said, and gave him another tender kiss.

however, heungmin didn't move, leaning his elbows on the door.

“honey, i'm going to get fined if i stay here another minute.”

“i'm not worried about that. is everything alright?”

“everything's fine, did we forget something? do you want me to go back and get it?”

“i think i might have missed something, because you haven't said you love me.”

you pressed your lips together, unable to contain yourself in front of his worried expression. although you knew that heungmin would be fully capable of paying any fine, you didn't want to spend money on this kind of nonsense.

“it was a prank, my love. i love you, ok? now get going, because i don't want you to be late, and i don't want to spend money on an airport ticket.”

he stayed there, watching you, analyzing any sign of a lie. analyzing you like someone who has made a mistake and doesn't want to repeat it.

“heungmin!”

“fine, but you're not geting off that easy,” he warned, then walked away.

“come here, give me one more kiss.”

“no, rethink your actions. i'll see you when Ii get back.”

“heungmin, no! i love you!”

you could see his satisfied smile as he walked towards the airport entrance. a honk made you take notice of your surroundings again, but that wasn't what worried you. you honked back.

“i'm leaving, damn it!”

a few hours later, you saw the notification with a text from heungmin.

baby: [photo] i've already written down the names of the things that were served to us on the plane. i'll buy them for us when i think you deserve them again.

y/n: cruel

baby: only fair

mason mount

"have a nice day, sweetheart. i'm heading out. love you."

you were still curled up in bed. the day off came at a good time, because you felt completely exhausted and all you wanted to do was rot in that bed. it was unfair that mason had to leave, but you accepted it, not having much to do, but you thought you'd play with him a bit, before he left.

"have a good game this weekend. text me when you get home, yeah?" you mumbled.

mason nodded and was about to close the bedroom door and let you go back to sleep, when he realized what had just happened. you didn't say it back. you always did, it was something that came out automatically and genuinely from both of you, but not this time.

he put his hand on the doorknob and went back to looking at you in bed, your eyes alight with a mischievous gleam that he didn't notice.

"is everything alright?" he asked, worried.

mason wasn't usually insecure with you, he simply had no reason to be. so when something like this happened, he got worried that something was wrong and he didn't notice.

"yes," you answered, falsely confused by his question, when you knew where it's coming from.

mason shook his head slowly, processing. he dropped his bag on the floor and stepped closer to the bed, stopping right next to you.

"are you sure?" he continued, looking for something in your expression.

"what is it, mase?"

he let out a frustrated sigh. you could tell he was struggling to understand what was going on.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" he reinforces.

"mase. love."

you got up, pushing the sheets away from your body, sitting up in bed.

"you didn't say you loved me back. is something wrong?"

"love, i don't..."

your heart squeezed when you saw his expression.

"because i say i love you every day in the most sincere way i can. come on, tell me, what happened? i can cancel my flight right now and we'll sort it out."

"mase, what? no!"

he couldn't be serious about canceling his flight and not being at the game this weekend, for goodness sake! it was an important game and he was still earning his place in the team, you would never let him do that, even if there was something wrong.

"baby, i was joking. of course i love you back." you giggled, leaning your forehead against his.

"what?" he let go and you laughed even harder. 

"that's not funny, y/n! you scared me."

"sorry, sorry!" you rushed to say, kissing his lips."it was just a prank. no canceling flights, okay?"

he shook his head, his lips almost forming a pout.

"i'm not convinced it was a prank. are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

him doubting you made you realize that the prank didn't go as planned. however, you also learned that it was important to him, in a way you hadn't imagined.

"there's nothing wrong, i promise."

he arched his eyebrow.

"really?"

this time you rolled your eyes.

"mason. you don't believe me?" you fire back.

"i just...” he tried to say, but you interrupted him.

"i love you. yesterday, today, tomorrow. the rest of my life. i love you."

he finally seemed convinced and held your face with both hands, foreheads still pressed together.

"even if things go wrong?"

"especially if things go wrong."

he smiled. so openly that you found yourself melting for his beauty again - secretly.

"i'll never get tired of hearing that."

[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."

[paddockletters]

chihiro | trent alexander-arnold

request:Can you please write something for Trent inspired by chihiro something angst when Trent becomes distant toward the reader (gf or wife ) and less attentive . But she still gives him all of her but soon realizes that it breaks her, and it breaks her more because he hasn't realized pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: You find yourself in a heart-wrenching struggle as Trent pulls away, leaving you to question your worth. Despite your devotion, his distance shatters your spirit. As you confront the painful truth, a life-changing decision awaits, forcing you to choose between love and self-preservation. warnings: angst, gaslighting author's note: i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you liked it, ... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

I’ve been feeling it for a while now—the distance, the way Trent pulls away without even realizing it. At first, I thought it was just me being too sensitive, that maybe I was expecting too much. But as the days went on, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was no longer the person who used to look at me like I was his entire world. Now, it felt like I was just... there.

I remember the early days, the way he used to hold me so tight, like he was afraid I’d disappear. I’d catch him staring at me with that boyish smile of his, and he’d say, "What? Can’t I look at my girl?" I’d laugh and tell him he was ridiculous, but I loved it. I loved the way he made me feel seen, loved, important. That version of Trent feels like a distant memory now.

Now? Now he barely looks at me.

The other night, I tried to talk to him—really talk. I had been holding it in for too long, trying to give him space, hoping he’d notice on his own that something was wrong. But he didn’t. So, I brought it up, carefully, not wanting to start a fight.

"Trent," I said, sitting on the couch while he scrolled through his phone, "I feel like we’re not… us anymore."

He glanced up, brow furrowing for a moment before looking back at his screen. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just… I miss you. I miss how we used to be. Lately, it feels like you’re a million miles away, even when you’re sitting right next to me."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I’ve been busy. You know that."

"I know, but…" I hesitated. "It’s more than that, Trent. I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t know how to fix it."

His response was so simple, so dismissive. "You’re overthinking it."

Overthinking it. That’s what he said. And maybe I was, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I was pouring everything I had into this relationship while he was barely giving me scraps in return.

I gave him a small, sad smile, hoping it would break through his detachment. "I’m not trying to push you away, I just want… I just want us to be close again."

Trent shifted uncomfortably, clearly not in the mood for a deep conversation. "We’re fine. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this."

The silence that followed his words was suffocating. I remember how my chest tightened, and I had to fight back the tears threatening to spill over. Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he see that I was breaking right in front of him?

There was a time he would come home, exhausted from training, and still find the energy to cuddle up with me on the couch, kissing my forehead, telling me about his day. I remember one evening after a tough match, he had pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me, and whispered, "You’re the best part of my day, you know that?"

But those days feel like they belong to a different lifetime now.

Another night, I cooked his favorite meal, hoping it would spark something between us—bring him back to me. He came home late, as usual, tired and distracted. He barely glanced at the dinner I’d spent hours preparing.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely looking at the table. He grabbed a plate and sat down, eyes glued to the TV, like I wasn’t even there.

I sat across from him, pushing my food around my plate, trying to find the courage to say something, but the words died in my throat. It wasn’t just that he was distant; it was like I had become invisible to him.

When did it get this bad? I wondered, feeling a heaviness in my chest. The love I had for him was still there, burning painfully bright, but it was slowly killing me to keep holding on when he wasn’t holding on to me.

And then came the night it all fell apart.

I couldn’t sleep. I had spent hours lying next to him, staring at the ceiling, my heart aching with the weight of everything left unsaid. I needed to say something, to make him understand, but I didn’t know how.

I slipped out of bed and went to the living room, sitting in the dark, hugging my knees to my chest. I must have been there for a while because, at some point, Trent came out, rubbing his eyes.

"Why are you out here?" His voice was groggy, but there was no concern in it. Just exhaustion.

I looked up at him, tears already spilling down my cheeks. "I can’t do this anymore, Trent."

He frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"This." I gestured between us. "Us. Whatever this has become. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not. I’m breaking, Trent, and you don’t even see it."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "What do you want me to say? I’m doing the best I can."

"But your best isn’t enough anymore," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I’ve given you everything—my love, my time, my heart—and I’m still left feeling like I’m not enough. Like I’m the only one fighting for us."

He sat down across from me, sighing heavily. "I don’t know what you want from me."

"I want you to care," I said, my voice breaking. "I want you to look at me the way you used to. I want to feel like I matter to you again."

There was a long silence. I stared at him, hoping—praying—that he would say something, anything, to make me feel like I hadn’t lost him completely. But all he did was look away, rubbing his face in frustration.

And that was it. That was the moment I knew. He didn’t have it in him anymore, and I couldn’t keep pouring my love into someone who wasn’t willing to do the same.

"I love you," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "But I can’t keep hurting like this."

He looked at me, his eyes finally softening, but it was too late. "I don’t want to lose you."

I smiled sadly through my tears. "You already have."

That night, after Trent and I sat in silence, I knew it wasn’t just a phase. It wasn’t going to change overnight or even at all. The weight of it all was too much, and I didn’t know how to carry it anymore. My hands were shaking as I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts. I needed to talk to someone—someone who might understand.

My thumb hovered over my best friend's name, Jess. I hadn’t told her much about what had been going on, mainly because I didn’t want to admit how bad things were. But now, it was like the dam had broken, and I needed to get it all out.

I hit call.

She picked up after a couple of rings, her voice groggy. "Hey, what’s up? It’s late, everything okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to steady my voice. "Not really."

Her tone shifted instantly, becoming more alert. "What happened? Is it Trent?"

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. "Yeah. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Jess. It’s like I don’t exist to him. I love him so much, but I feel like I’m losing myself in the process of holding on to him."

There was a pause on the other end. Jess wasn’t one to sugarcoat things, but she also wasn’t the type to push unless I was ready.

"Has he said anything about how he feels? Have you guys talked?" she asked cautiously.

"We tried. Well, I tried. It’s like he doesn’t even see the problem. He keeps saying I’m overthinking it, that I’m making a big deal out of nothing. But it’s not nothing, Jess. It’s killing me."

There was another silence, and then she let out a deep sigh. "Babe, you deserve someone who sees you, who cares enough to put in the effort. I know you love him, but if he’s not giving you anything to hold on to, what are you supposed to do?"

I leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "I don’t know. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I want to believe things will get better, but he’s so... distant. Like he’s already gone, and I’m the only one holding on."

Jess’s voice softened. "Have you thought about what would happen if you walked away?"

My breath caught in my throat. I had thought about it—many times. But actually doing it? The idea felt like ripping my own heart out. "Yeah. I’ve thought about it. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let him go."

“You are. You’re stronger than you think,” she said firmly. “But don’t make any decisions until you’re sure. Give it some time, see if he changes. But if he doesn’t... you deserve better, and you know that.”

The next day, I found myself dialing a number I hadn’t used in a while—Trent’s mom. She and I had always gotten along, and part of me wondered if she could help, if maybe she’d seen this side of him before.

"Hello?" Her warm, familiar voice answered, and for a moment, I felt a little less alone.

"Hey, it’s me," I said quietly.

"Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to hear from you! How are you?"

I hesitated, my voice catching in my throat. "Not great, to be honest."

She paused, clearly sensing the heaviness in my tone. "Is everything okay with you and Trent?"

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. "I don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost him. He’s been so distant, and I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t know what to do anymore."

She was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "I’m so sorry, love. I’ve noticed he’s been a bit off lately, but I didn’t want to interfere. You know how he is—sometimes he gets so wrapped up in his own world that he doesn’t realize how it affects the people around him."

"Yeah," I whispered, wiping my eyes. "But I feel like I’m breaking, and he doesn’t even see it."

“Have you told him this? Really told him?” she asked gently.

"I tried. I told him how I felt, but he just brushes it off, like I’m overreacting."

There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice soft. "I know he loves you. He may not show it the way you need right now, but I know he does. But if he’s not making you feel loved, if he’s not making you feel like you matter, you have to think about what’s best for you. You can’t keep giving and giving until there’s nothing left of yourself."

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest because they were the truth I hadn’t wanted to face. I couldn’t keep pouring everything I had into Trent if he wasn’t willing to meet me halfway.

"I don’t know what to do," I admitted, my voice breaking. "I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t keep living like this."

"No one can tell you what to do, love. Only you know what’s right for you. But whatever you decide, you deserve to be happy. Don’t settle for less than that."

That night, after talking to Trent’s mom, I lay in bed next to him, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. The silence between us was louder than ever, and for the first time, I wondered if this was how it was always going to be. If I was going to spend the rest of my life feeling like a ghost in my own relationship.

I thought back to the last time we’d had a real conversation—weeks ago, maybe more. I had asked for space, told him I needed some time to clear my head, to figure things out for myself. I had been so overwhelmed by everything then, but I thought that maybe stepping away, even for a little while, would make me feel better.

"I need to be alone for a bit," I had said quietly, standing in the doorway of our bedroom, my hand still gripping the edge of the doorframe.

He’d looked at me, his face unreadable, but nodded. "Take your time."

It had been a relief at first. I had gone for a long walk, let my thoughts run wild as I tried to make sense of what had been happening between us. I’d told myself that once I came back, we could figure things out, rebuild what had been crumbling.

But when I returned that night, the house had felt different. Colder. Like something essential had disappeared. And Trent… he wasn’t there in the way I needed him to be. Physically, yes, he was there. But emotionally, mentally? It was like he had already checked out. I had walked back into the same room, into the same life, but somehow, I was the one who felt lost.

Now, as I lay beside him, I could still feel that same emptiness between us. I rolled over, my back to him, blinking back tears as I whispered, "I miss you."

He didn’t respond. I don’t even think he heard me.

And that’s when I knew—I had taken a break, hoping to come back to something familiar, something that we could still fix. But instead, I had returned to someone who was already gone.

Weeks passed after that night. The silence between us only grew, consuming every corner of our relationship. I kept hoping—foolishly—that maybe something would change, that Trent would look at me the way he used to, or that he would finally notice the cracks that had been widening for months. But nothing came. No words, no apologies, no acknowledgment of the distance that had turned us from lovers into strangers.

One morning, I woke up and knew. It was like the weight of everything had finally sunk deep enough for me to let go. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep waiting for him to realize how much this was breaking me. So, I packed my things in silence. The room felt eerily calm, like it knew what was coming before I did.

Trent was at training, and for the first time, I was glad he wasn’t there. I didn’t have the strength to explain myself again, to beg for him to see me, to see us—the version of us that once existed. I left him a note on the bed, my hand trembling as I wrote the words that had been festering inside me for weeks.

"I can’t do this anymore. I gave you everything I had, but somewhere along the way, you stopped giving me anything back. I love you, Trent, but I love myself too much to keep breaking for someone who doesn’t even realize I’m shattered. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

I walked out the door, my chest tight with pain, but for the first time in months, there was also a small sense of relief. I hadn’t felt this light in ages, even if it was paired with heartbreak. The hardest part was over. I was leaving.

"I guess this is it," I had said, my voice barely a whisper.

Now, weeks later, I sat in my new apartment, staring out the window as the city buzzed below. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe. The space around me was mine, filled with my own choices, my own life. But the ache in my chest was still there, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t quite healed.

It took time—too much time—but I finally realized something that had been staring me in the face all along. I had been waiting for him to notice me, to care enough to fight for us, but Trent had already made his choice. He’d been gone long before I ever walked out that door.

And now, after everything, I was the one who was finally gone. And for the first time in weeks, I realized… I wasn’t going to come back.

Then, one evening, while scrolling through my phone, I saw a text from a number I almost didn’t recognize anymore. It was Trent.

"I didn’t realize until now. You were gone, and I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry… for everything."

I stared at the message for a long time, feeling the tears pool in my eyes, but I didn’t reply. Because now, it was too late.

He had finally realized. But I was already gone.

[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

[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

[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

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

"Saw your email. Everything okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

“Trent?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trent was among the last to leave.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry?” You asked, slightly confused.

Another shot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frustrated, he sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You offered him a final smile before disappearing inside.

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

...

Part 6

Masterlist

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

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

[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.

[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