#trent alexander arnold x black reader

[starlitmelanin]

ᡣ𐭩ྀི birthday blues; t.alexander-arnold

pairing - trent x varsity!fem!reader

word count - 2.9k

warnings - none

summary - you’re stressed out about trent’s birthday, because what on earth do you get a man who already has everything?

it's not like you can just roll up with a box of chocolates and call it a day. this man's used to the best of the best, and while he's never made you feel like you weren't enough or didn't fit into his world, the reality is you're still a varsity student, still trying to stretch your monthly budget to cover textbooks, takeout, and the occasional night out with your girls.

and trent? well, trent can have anything he wants, whenever he wants. you've watched him casually browse designer websites like he's scrolling through twitter, picking out shoes that cost more than your rent with a kind of nonchalance that makes your head spin.

so, no, a simple birthday card from the campus bookstore isn't going to cut it. this is your first birthday together as a couple — you've got to make it special.

but how?

like, you've been lying in bed for hours now, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through shopping websites, pinterest, and even resorting to typing "what to get your rich boyfriend for his birthday" into google. nothing is helping. in fact, everything's making it worse. because even though you've got a list of ideas in your notes app, none of them seem to match up to the weight of what you feel this gift should be.

"babe, you don't have to go all out," trent had said during a conversation you had with him earlier in the week, flashing you that pretty smile that somehow makes everything feel like it'll be fine. "whatever you get me, i'm gonna love it. i'm just happy to spend the day with you."

but that's the thing, though. you want to go all out. he deserves it. even if he's not asking for it, you know he would never say anything if you just showed up with something basic—but it would eat away at you. you'd remember it every year.

so, yeah, no pressure or anything. just your sanity slowly slipping away as the days inch closer to his birthday and you still have no clue what to do.

your friends have been no help either. a bunch of suggestions that are either way too expensive or feel way too impersonal. "just get him something sentimental," one of them had said, but you're not even sure what counts as sentimental when you've only been dating for a few months.

like, are you supposed to pull some dramatic pinterest diy project out of nowhere? is that your lane now? because you're not crafty. you're not about to break out the arts and crafts just to end up frustrated and glue-stained.

you're definitely overthinking this, and you know it, but you can't stop. you keep picturing the day itself. like, what if you get him something and he likes it but doesn't love it? what if he's too polite to say it but deep down, he's thinking, "wow, she really couldn't put more effort into this?"

it doesn't help that every time you bring up his birthday, trent just brushes it off like it's no big deal. "it's just another day," he says, shrugging, but you know it's more than that. his birthday is a big deal to you because he's a big deal to you.

you can't let this flop.

days are passing by faster than you'd like, and you still haven't made any progress. now it's the weekend before his birthday, and you're sitting on the floor of your apartment, surrounded by discarded ideas. you've gone from designer cologne (too basic) to a surprise trip (too expensive) to planning a cute dinner night in (too... ordinary?).

it's gotten to the point where you're spiralling. full-on stress mode. you're overthinking everything, imagining how disappointed he might be, how awkward the whole thing could feel, and for what? he hasn't said anything that makes you think he's expecting something grand, but it's like your brain is running on a loop, replaying worst-case scenarios.

you're deep in your thoughts when your phone buzzes. it's trent. a simple text.

trent: wanna come over?

you sigh, conflicted. on one hand, you'd love to see him and spend the day wrapped up in each other like you usually do, but on the other hand, you feel like you should be using every spare second to figure this gift thing out. but it's trent, and maybe seeing him will take your mind off the stress for a bit. so, you grab your keys and head out.

when you get to his place, trent's already waiting for you at the door, looking casual as ever in sweats and a hoodie. he greets you with a grin that immediately makes some of the tension in your shoulders ease up. you can't help but smile back, even though the stress is still simmering in the back of your mind.

he pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head as he mumbles, "missed you."

"you saw me yesterday," you laugh softly, burying your face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. it's the same cologne you thought about getting him for his birthday, but now that you're here with him, it feels too safe, too... expected.

"still missed you," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look at you. "you okay?"

God, how does he always know?

"yeah," you lie, but it's not convincing. trent raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but he doesn't press. instead, he just leads you inside, hand slipping into yours like it always does.

you spend the afternoon curled up on the couch, watching some random show neither of you are really paying attention to. trent's arm is draped over your shoulders, his fingers occasionally brushing against your arm, but your mind keeps drifting. keeps thinking about the damn gift.

it's not until he asks, "you sure you're alright?" that you realise you've been quiet for too long.

you glance up at him, debating whether or not to just tell him. you don't want to admit how stressed you've been about something that probably seems insignificant to him. but trent's looking at you with that soft, patient expression, and before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

"it's just... your birthday," you mumble, picking at the hem of your shirt, avoiding his gaze. "i wanna get you something special, but i don't know what to get you. you have everything already."

there's a pause, and for a moment, you worry you've said too much. but then you hear him laugh. not in a mean way, but in that gentle, amused way he does when you've overcomplicated something in your head.

"babe," he says softly, cupping your chin and turning your face so you're looking at him. "you don't have to stress over that. i don't need anything fancy or expensive. i just wanna spend time with you."

you feel your chest tighten a little because, logically, you know he's right. but still... it's his first birthday with you. it feels like it should be more.

"i know," you mumble, eyes flicking away from his. "but i just want it to be perfect."

"it will be," he promises, leaning down to steal a kiss. "because you'll be there."

and maybe that's all that matters, but still...

—

the next couple of days are a blur.

classes, assignments, and late-night scrolling sessions trying to figure out the perfect present. you've moved past the point of practicality. now, you're grasping at straws. googling things like "unique gifts for the man who has everything" and getting absolutely nowhere. your notes app is full of crossed-out ideas, your stress level rising with each passing day.

by the time thursday rolls around, you're a full-on wreck. trent's birthday is next monday, and the thought of showing up with something underwhelming—or worse, empty-handed—has you on edge. you've always been the type to put pressure on yourself, to want everything to be just right, especially when it comes to people you care about. and trent? well, trent's at the top of that list now, no question.

it randomly hits you at 2:19 in the morning, that spark of inspiration you were so desperate for, the puzzle pieces of your chaotic brain finally starting to click into place. and as you brush your teeth before class a few hours later, you replay the idea in your mind.

you obviously still need to work out the details, but at least you have direction now. no more over-the-top ideas. nothing that screams, "i tried too hard." instead, you're going for something more personal, something that shows trent how much you've been paying attention to the small things.

because, really, that's what this relationship has been about for you—finding beauty in the details. sure, trent's life is loud and flashy, but what you've learned in the past few months is that it's the quiet moments, the ones where it's just the two of you, that really matter.

like the nights where you read him your biochem thesis because you want a second opinion (and, bless him, he never understands a thing). or the mornings where you wake up tangled in his sheets, 15 minutes late for whatever morning class you have. or the late-night talks where he opens up in ways you know he doesn't do with most people.

that's what you want to capture. that's what his birthday should reflect.

the rest of the week passes in a blur, a whirlwind of classes, your part-time job, and late-night planning sessions. every free moment you get, you're jotting down notes, sketching ideas, making phone calls, and somehow managing to keep all of this hidden from trent. it's not easy—he's nosy as hell, always asking what you're up to, but you've gotten good at playing it off, keeping him in the dark just enough to maintain the element of surprise.

you've already set everything in motion. well, mostly. there are still a few loose ends to tie up, but it's all coming together in a way that feels right.

on the morning of his birthday, you both settle on a time that works—right after your last class and after he's done with training. by the time he gets to your place that evening, you're all giddy, eyes beaming as you open the door for him.

and he's instantly on you, arms smoothly slipping around your waist, pulling you to him just as you close the door. he leans down, pressing his lips to your exposed shoulder — gentle, lingering kisses, his breath warm against your skin. "hi, baby."

"trent..." you murmur, trying to sound disapproving because you can almost guess where this is going, but failing miserably. it comes out softer than you intended, more like an invitation than a scolding.

he hums against your skin, his lips brushing the curve of your neck now, his hands tightening just a bit on your waist, pressing your back to his front. "hmm?"

his lips move to your jawline next, and you reach back with one hand, tangling your fingers in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. he takes the hint, pressing more kisses along the side of your face now, trailing up to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

"so pretty," trent turns you around slowly, his hands still on your waist, guiding you until you're facing him. his eyes are dark, a little playful, but there's something else there too—something softer, deeper.

you barely have time to register that look before his lips are on yours, soft and sweet. it's not hurried or frantic, but there's an urgency to it, and you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands clutching his shirt, your body leaning into his. it's instinctual now, the way your whole being responds to him.

when you finally pull back, both of you breathing a little heavier, trent rests his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. there's a lazy smile on his lips, the kind that makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

"wait, you're distracting me," you laugh quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "i have a surprise for you."

he smiles, his lips brushing against your forehead now. "yeah?"

you nod, grinning as you lead him over to the living room, where you've set everything up. on the coffee table, there's a small collection of items: a few handwritten letters, a disposable camera, and a small, leather-bound journal.

trent raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the table, clearly intrigued but not sure what to expect.

"so, i know you don't need anything," you start, your voice suddenly a little shaky as you sit down beside him. "and i didn't wanna get you something you could just buy yourself. so... i thought about what would mean the most to you. and, well... this is what i came up with."

you hand him the journal first, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your stomach as he unties the string and carefully opens it.

the pages are filled with handwritten notes, photos, and little mementos from your time together so far. it's not just a scrapbook or a diary; it's a love letter. every page is a piece of your relationship — the silly inside jokes, the photos of the two of you at your favourite café, the pressed flowers from the first bouquet he ever gave you, the ticket stubs from the movie you saw on your second date. it's a collection of memories, a reminder of how far you've come in such a short time.

it's quiet for a while, the only sound being the soft rustle of paper as he turns the pages. you watch him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction, but his face is unreadable.

finally, he reaches the last page—a note you wrote, a few simple words; happy birthday, trent. thank you for being you. thank you for seeing me. i love you.

he's quiet for a moment, his eyes scanning the words, thumb tracing over the ink. when he finally looks up, there's this... softness in his eyes, a depth of emotion you don't always see from him.

"this is perfect," he sets the journal aside and pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. "thank you, baby."

you feel a wave of relief wash over you, but you're not done yet. next, you hand him the disposable camera.

"i know you're used to having a million pictures taken of you all the time, but... i thought it might be nice to have something just for us. we can take pictures whenever, wherever. and at the end of the roll, we'll get them developed and see what moments we've captured."

trent turns the camera over in his hands, a warm, appreciative smile gracing his lips. "this is... yeah, this is really thoughtful. i didn't expect this."

and finally, you hand him the letters. "these are from the people closest to you. i asked them to write you something personal, something that shows how much you mean to them."

he looks up at you, his eyes soft, a mix of gratitude and something deeper reflecting in them. "you really went all out for this, didn't you?"

you shrug, feeling a little shy now that everything's out in the open. "i just wanted you to feel appreciated. i didn't want to get you something that didn't mean anything."

trent's quiet for a moment, just looking at you, and then he sets everything aside and pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

"you're amazing," he says, his voice all soft and thick with emotion. "seriously. this is the best gift i've ever had."

you feel the tension drain from your body as you bury your face in his chest, a smile spreading across your lips because, yeah. all the stress, all the overthinking, it was worth it.

"i love you," trent pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your cheek as he looks down at you. "more than i even know how to say."

your heart stutters at that. you've both danced around the words for a while now, neither of you wanting to rush into saying them, but hearing him say it now, in this moment, feels right.

"i love you too," you whisper, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer, your lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss.

when you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours again, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "best birthday i've had," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your cheek, and you laugh softly, your heart full.

"i'm glad," you say, smiling as you snuggle closer to him, his arms wrapping around you like a safety net. "but it's not over yet."

he raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh? what else do you have planned?"

you grin, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze. "i figured we'd spend the rest of the night doing... whatever you want."

trent chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "whatever i want, huh?"

"yep," you nod, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. "you're the birthday boy, after all."

"careful," he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "i might hold you to that."

and he does hold you to it.

all night long.

[kairawrites]

old habits.

🌺masterlist 🌺

Pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader

Author’s note: pls listen to fever by lucky daye, i beg you!

Summary: A break somehow turned into a permanent separation. It’s been seven months since he’s been in your presence, but once he’s in your orbit, Trent throws your world off its axis.

Words: 3268

The bass thumped through the floor of the crowded club, the vibrations resonating in your chest as you swayed to the rhythm. Those around you were lost in their own world, arms raised, heads thrown back in laughter and carefree joy. But despite the fun, you were hyper-aware of Trent’s eyes on you, just like they had been all night.

You knew exactly why. The dress you’d chosen was one of his favorites. He’d always said it brought out something in you, made you glow. Maybe that’s why you wore it tonight, why you let your friends drag you to the weekend at the villa, despite knowing he’d be there too.

As you dance, your hips move fluidly to the beat, trying to focus on the music, on the warmth of your friends' energy. Trying to allow it to suppress all the stress from work. You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as you let the rhythm take over, begging the music to drown out the thoughts of him. 

To drown out the way his eyes had lingered when he’d opened the door of the Uber to help you out upon your arrival to the club. His gaze first met yours, holding it for a moment that felt both too brief and too long before it dropped to take in the rest of you. He looked at the dress, the way it hugged your curves, the tantalizing cutouts that revealed just enough to keep his imagination running wild. His eyes traced the smooth expanse of your skin, lingering on the delicate straps of your heels that accentuated the length of your legs.

To drown out the way he'd only managed to get out a few words, his voice a little rougher than he’d intended. “You alright?” he asked, the simplicity of the question betraying the hours he'd spent rehearsing what he would say when you finally came face to face again after seven long months. "You alright?" was nowhere on that list, and he silently cursed himself for fumbling in the moment that mattered most.

But then, you’d smiled—just a small, knowing curve of your lips—and that familiar, bashful smile you adored crept onto his face, softening the intensity in his eyes. It was the smile that had always made your heart skip a beat, the one that reminded you that you were the only person in the world to make him feel this way.

To drown out how his touch lingered on your hand longer than necessary as he helped you out of the car, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of his skin against yours sent a ripple of memories through you. Before you could respond, your friend gave you a playful nudge from behind, urging you to move so the rest of the group could file out. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder as you moved with the crowd towards the door, catching his eyes still locked on you, following your every step.

To drown out how in that brief moment, it was as if the months apart had dissolved, leaving behind the undeniable connection that had always been there. The weight of his gaze on your back had felt like a tether, begging to pull you into a past you weren’t sure you were ready to let go of, even as you walked further away.

You appeared to be having the time of your life as you danced. But across the room, Trent was struggling. Every time he glanced your way, he felt a tug of something deep in his chest—something he couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried. You were captivating, lost in the music, your laughter ringing out as you moved with the girls. His friends kept trying to engage him in conversation, but his attention was always drawn back to you.

It was maddening—how you still had this effect on him, how the sight of you in that dress could unravel him so completely. He took a long sip of his drink, trying desperately to divert his attention, but the shimmering lights had other plans. They cascaded over your skin, highlighting its rich, deep tones and casting an enchanting glow that accentuated every curve as you moved. The play of light and shadow left him mesmerized, utterly dazed by the way you seemed to glow with an almost ethereal beauty, each flicker of light intensifying his longing.

He was yanked headfirst into a memory—the last time he’d danced with you. He could almost feel the tingling at his fingertips, his body aching with the phantom sensation of yours pressed against his, the way your hips had moved perfectly in sync with his, how you grinding against him left his head cloudy-spinning, the heat that built between you as you both surrendered to the moment.

His grip tightened around the glass in his hand as he recalled the way your smile had lit up his world the last time you’d shared a moment like this. The way your eyes had met his with that spark, a silent communication that only the two of you understood. He remembered how he’d pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered something that made you laugh and press even closer to him.

Now, as he watched you dance, Trent couldn’t help but imagine stepping forward, closing the distance between you, and pulling you into that same embrace. But instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, his chest tightening as he realized that the days of being the one who got to dance with you were over. Trent’s eyes followed your every move, memorizing the way you looked in that dress, the way your hair caught the light, the way your smile hadn’t changed a bit.

As the night began to wind down and the club’s energy slowly ebbed away, exhaustion crept in. Your feet ached from hours of dancing, but your body still buzzed with the lingering thrill of the music—and the heat of his eyes on you all night. When you all returned to the villa, the others started to disperse, seeking the comfort of a hot shower and bed. But you couldn’t shake the restlessness coursing through you, so the kitchen beckoned, offering a moment of solitude. As their laughter and conversations faded into the background, a wave of relief washed over you, the quiet of the villa a soothing contrast to the club’s pounding noise.

You made your way to the kitchen, the dim light of the freezer casting a soft glow as you opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw it—a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, sitting right there on the top shelf. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you reached for it, the familiar weight of the pint in your hands bringing back memories of all the nights you and Trent had spent just like this. It was a ritual you’d never grown tired of, something simple that had always brought you closer together. The fact that he’d remembered to stock the freezer with it tonight made something warm unfurl in your chest. 

Instinctively, you opened the drawer and picked up two spoons, but then you paused. The reality of your current situation hit you, and with a quiet sigh, you put one of the spoons back. 

You hopped up onto the kitchen island, the marble cool beneath you as you peeled back the lid of the ice cream. The first bite was pure bliss, the sweetness melting on your tongue. You closed your eyes, savoring the taste.

As you ate, your mind drifted back to the night’s earlier moment, to Trent’s simple question: “You alright?” You’d wanted to tell him the truth—that you weren’t. Seven months later, you still found yourself reaching for him in the middle of the night, still fighting the urge to text him whenever something significant happened. Despite feeling this way, you couldn’t share it because it was you who had suggested the break in the first place

Your job demanded too much of your focus, while he was entrenched in the demands of playing for Liverpool. You’d hit a rough patch, both of you fearing you’d finally lost the three-year “honeymoon phase” all of your girlfriends envied. Asking him for space had seemed like the only solution at the time, but it quickly turned into hardly speaking and not seeing each other at all.

Because for Trent, it was all or nothing. He couldn’t be in the same room without wanting to touch you, without his fingers aching to brush against your skin. He couldn’t talk to you on the phone without slipping into nicknames only he’d ever use for you, names that held more meaning than simple words. He couldn’t follow you on Instagram without liking your photos, leaving comments that made it clear he was still very much invested, that those pictures were posted for him, and him alone.

He couldn’t bear to see other guys looking at you, chatting you up, their interest undeniable. It would be excruciating to hear your laughter directed at another man’s jokes, knowing that the laughter you reserved for him was now shared with others. 

He couldn’t bear to call you a friend when the gang got together to hang out, because his own eyes betrayed him every time. They followed you, lingered on you, reflecting the longing and unresolved feelings he couldn’t hide, making it impossible to keep up the pretense of casual friendship. That’s why he took your request for space so literally. He tried his best to keep a clear distance between you two, strategically meeting up with friends when he knew you wouldn’t be tagging along. For Trent, the line between wanting you and being without you was too blurred to navigate, so he chose to keep the space as wide as possible, even if it meant missing out on the simple joy of being around you.

The sound of soft footsteps broke through your thoughts, and when you opened your eyes, Trent was there, leaning casually against the counter across from you. His presence seemed to fill the room, his dark, warm eyes locking onto yours as if no time had passed since you were last this close. He wore a fitted white t-shirt and dark, well-worn jeans—the kind of look that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks for the ice cream, T,” you said softly, your voice carrying a note of something deeper, something unspoken. “You didn’t have to.”

His lips curved into a small, almost shy smile, one that you hadn’t seen in months. “Old habits, I guess.”

You nodded, taking another bite. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with everything that had gone unsaid for so long. Trent’s eyes followed your movements, the way your lips wrapped around the spoon, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. There was a hunger in his gaze, a longing that he was barely trying to hide.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to study him, really study him. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his stubble framed his face– his hand instinctively reached up to rub at his jaw under your watchful eyes.

“Old habits,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would shatter the fragile peace between you.

Trent pushed off the counter, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. His hand found its way to your leg, resting just above your knee. The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. It was a simple gesture, but it carried a heavy weight, a history that lingered between you.

You stayed still, not pulling away, as his fingers began to trace slow, deliberate patterns on your skin, moving from your knee down to your calf. His touch was familiar yet electrifying, sending shivers up your spine and making every nerve in your body come alive with awareness. Your heart raced as he unbuckled and gently slipped off one of your heels, the action tender and almost reverent.

The cool air hit your bare foot, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his hands as he began to massage the arch. His fingers worked into the muscles with practiced ease, and the tension in your body began to melt away. You had to bite back a sigh of contentment; it felt so good, so right, that it was impossible to ignore how your body responded to him, even after all this time.

As you tried to find a distraction from the overwhelming sensation, you sighed, “About the Euros…”

Trent’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, his expression one of genuine surprise. “You watched?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft, playful smile curving your lips. “Of course I watched. I always watch for you.”

His surprise gave way to something warmer, softer, and you saw his eyes soften, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t think you would care.”

“I always care,” you said quietly, the words carrying a weight of truth that neither of you had been willing to confront.

His hands continued their work, kneading the tension away, and you couldn’t help but relax further into his touch. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the sensation of his fingers, which seemed to know exactly where to press to make you feel good. Another step in an unspoken routine.

Old habits. 

The massage was thorough, gentle yet firm, and as he moved to your other leg, you found yourself completely at his mercy. The tension in your body unraveled with each stroke of his hands. When he finished, his touch lingered, his fingers drifting up your calf, sending a final shiver through your entire body. He watched your reaction intently as he traced the last patterns of his touch.

His thumbs brushed instinctively against your thighs, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. He flashed a cheeky smile and teased, “Guess I still have that magic touch.”

You bit back a smile, the warmth of his words and the electricity between you making it difficult to maintain any pretense of nonchalance.

You shifted slightly under his intense gaze, the brushes of his thumbs against your thighs making it hard to focus. “So,” you started, your voice betraying a hint of nerves as you swirled the spoon in the pint, “how was LA?”

Trent’s lips curled into a slow smile, his brow arching as he caught the glint of curiosity in your eyes. “It was fun.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the memories of the headlines and the pictures that had circulated flashed through your mind. You had known about the trip because of your mutual friends, but it was impossible to avoid the media’s spin on it. The tabloids had been relentless, insinuating that Trent was finally enjoying his newfound freedom, soaking up the sun in LA, surrounded by beautiful women and living the carefree life of a single man in his twenties.

As he stepped closer, settling between your legs, his touch drifted to your hips, creating a new, electric sensation. This close, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes—his skin now a shade darker, the golden tan accentuating the sharp angles of his face, and his hair, slightly longer than usual.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out, your fingers gently threading through Trent's hair. The motion was instinctive, familiar.

Trent's eyes softened as your hand moved through his curls, and he instinctively reached up to brush his fingers against where yours had just been, a small smile playing on his lips. “I need a cut before the season starts,” he remarked, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this moment.

You hummed softly in response, your fingers lingering in his hair a little longer before trailing from his hair to the nape of his neck, where his skin was warm and smooth. The intimacy of the gesture made your heart ache with a mix of nostalgia and longing. His breath hitched, just slightly, at the contact, and you felt the way his muscles tensed under your touch before relaxing again.

“I like it when you grow it out,” you admitted quietly, your thumb grazing the soft skin there.

His eyes locked onto yours, the warmth in them deepening as he leaned in a fraction closer, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. His right hand moved to the small of your back, fingers splayed out pulling you to the edge of the counter, the contact sending a shiver up your spine.

“Do you?” he asked, his voice low, the words carrying more meaning than just a casual question.

You nodded, your gaze never leaving his. Your touch found its way to the front of his shirt, drifting up his chest. As your fingers brushed against the fabric, you felt his heartbeat thrum steadily beneath your palm.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he chuckled softly. The touch of his fingers on your chin was gentle but insistent, guiding your face upward.

His eyes dropped to your lips, and you could see the shift in his expression—his gaze softened, filled with a mix of longing and hesitation. His eyes revealed his desire to kiss you, yet it was clear he wouldn’t be the one to initiate. It was up to you to bridge the gap, to ask him to take back the space he had given you. He needed you to reverse the separation that had grown between you and to reclaim the love he’d declared for you.

He took a soft breath, and you leaned in, closing the remaining distance between you. Your lips met his in a hesitant kiss. It was a fleeting, featherweight touch.

As you pulled back, you saw the look on his face—a mix of relief and something profoundly soft, a vulnerability that spoke volumes. His eyes held a gentle warmth, his touch lingering on your cheeks, thumbs gently grazing your skin as if he wanted to savor every moment of this reconnection. His nose brushed against yours, your eyes drifting shut.

He closed the gap between you again. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, exploring and rediscovering the familiar contours of your mouth. The urgency of his body caused you to tip back towards the kitchen counter, a giggle escaping your lips. His hands quickly gripped your hips, lifting you up and off the counter in a swift motion leaving your head spinning.

He stumbled through the kitchen, lips refusing to leave yours, his steps uneven as he tripped over his own shoes kicking them off, his focus entirely on you. The dim light cast shadows around him, making it difficult for his mind to settle on anything but the pressing need to be close to you. His brain struggled to find a clear path in the darkness, to the sofa, barely registering the familiar layout of the room. All he knew was that there was no way he would make it up the steps, down the hall, and to his room.

[hypnotiiize]

𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: this is real old and angsty like not for fake. it’s short though. also i grew up catholic so u gotta bear w the lil references and shit. trigger warning religious talk kinda

She couldn’t remember much of the year if she was being honest. 

She could remember her best friends’ wedding.

She could remember Valentine’s day.

She could remember March and April breezing past her, a mixture of Easter and celebrating her friend’s birthday.

She could remember the drowsiness that overcame her in May. She could remember how it followed her well into June.

She could remember her friend’s baby being born, and she could remember smiling down at his tiny squished face.

And she was happy for them, she was. But, when she found herself in her newly quiet home at the end of the day, the reality remained that she was alone. Utterly alone. No one to turn to. No one to rely on. Alone. She felt that this was her fault. 

When her friend called and cried to her about new motherhood delivering a swift kick to her backside, she accepted the opportunity to stay with her friends for a few days, maybe even weeks— however long it would take for her friend to get back on her feet with a new addition to the household.

The record was three weeks. July was almost over. Amelie, ever-grateful, had even told her that she could go back home if she wanted. The woman, not wanting to overstay her welcome, accepted that as well.

She had been accepting a lot of things, it seemed. She would leave the following week, after the event that was planned meticulously for the baby.

It was when she was getting ready to go to sleep early— the baby had a habit of scream-crying at the break of dawn and she liked being up with him— that she received a knock at the guest bedroom door. Curious, she tip-toed across the room and found herself opening the door to reveal her tired friend whose smile grew as she rocked her fast-asleep son. [y/n] invited them in and grabbed the baby at once, sitting on the bed with his little body cradled in her arms. 

“Okay, I wanted to tell you so that you weren’t, like, bombarded with this,” Amelie began after a small chat about how the baby had just done something cute.

She involuntarily put pressure on her eyebrows, furrowing them together.

Amelie folded her hands in her lap. “You know his baptism is next week and you know you’re his Godmother, of course... I tried to talk Trent out of it, but he’s going to make you know who his Godfather.”

She could feel herself gasp at the mention of you know who. She definitely knew who. 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I get it. And I get it if you’re not ready to see him. I can have someone else step in as his Godmother for the ceremony if you can’t do it. You don’t have to go to the party. What are you feeling?” Amelie asked.

She bit the skin of her bottom lip. She looked down at the almost two-month-old who looked so much like her friends that it was crazy. He was blinking up at her with his bottom lip poked out, looking scandalized. She laughed and rubbed the pad of her finger over his dark waves.

“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed… But I can do it. I don’t care about him. This is for my Godbaby. Right? This is for my Godson,” she cooed to the baby who half-smiled. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Sure. Yes. Yeah.” She was trying to convince herself more than anything and she knew it. “No one cares about that man, anyway. It’s just Rayan’s day..” The baby smiled as if he knew what they were talking about, and the women fussed over him a bit more. When the familiar weight pressed itself against her shoulders, She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Go raid Trent’s cabinet, girl. You know he’s not shy about Don Julio,” her friend joked about her husband.

There was a painful twang in her chest at once. Her husband. Her friend was joking about her husband. A man who she shared a child, a home, and a life with.

She could taste iron. She would later realize that she had bit the inside of her cheek open. For now, she chopped the stinging sensation up to the of moths fumbling about in her stomach. 

Her friend took her Godson and she was left alone once more. She laid her head on the linen pillow and stared blankly at the room before her. Wistfully, she imagined Amelie and Trent embracing each other at the end of the very long day. She imagined them nuzzling against the other as they gazed down at their sleeping baby boy. Then, she imagined everything that could have been.

She fell into a slumber with remnants of saline tears on her cheeks, and she woke up days later wearing a crisp white blouse and her best earrings. Rayan’s baptism. 

He barely left his mother’s arms that day. He was tiny and it was a big day for him and he was wearing a long, pristine white dress that used to be his grandfather’s when he was that small. So Rayan slept, and she tried not to kick open the church doors and run as far as her legs could take her. 

She knew he was in the room. She could feel it. If she opened her mouth to speak, she could taste it. If she inhaled too deeply, she could smell it. His presence was the sustenance that her soul had been missing for far too long and she was being punished for it. Her hands were shaking. She slipped off to the bathroom three times before she realized that her issues could affect the day. Being unreliable or looking flaky was the last thing she’d wanted to do after making it so far through the day. When she sat back down in the pews, she crossed her hands extra tight in her lap and kept her neck arched high. She would shake it off. This was for Rayan. 

After some time she stood with her friends and made her way to the front of the church. She could feel him behind her. Then beside her. She willed herself not to look at him and focused solely on swearing to remain a key figure in the baby’s life.

For you, I’ll do my best. 

He made his pledges after her. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. He was so close to her. She could feel the echo of his baritone in her feet. She could taste iron, far more pronounced this time.

The baby was placed in her arms, and the metallic flavor dissipated at once. She secured her arm around his head and tugged his gown down. He whined, only to stop a second later when his mother kissed his hand. 

The priest asked the Godparents to move closer. She stepped forward and nodded when appropriate. The priest said something that she didn’t really catch. She had been too busy making sure Rayan was comfortable. Brown hands came forward and untied the loose strings around the baby’s neck. He pulled the baby’s hat off. She could hear the ocean in her head. 

She leaned forward and lowered her elbow an inch. The priest placed his hands in the tub of water before him and her. He poured water on the baby’s dark tufts of hair. One hand, then two, then another for good measure. Rayan let out a short cry from the temperature of the water.

“It’s okay, honey, you did great,” she whispered to her Godson when it was all over. She held him tighter, closer to her face.

“Maybe he’s cold,” the familiar voice said. “Here, let me put his hat back on.” Brown hands came into view and she watched him make the loose loop-the-loop. Rayan calmed down. 

Rayan’s parents came and uttered softly to their son. His mother fought tears. His father let them glide down his cheeks freely, rubbing the top of the baby’s bonnet with a thumb. 

“Hey,” the Godfather’s low voice was saying. He was not whispering. Anyone could have heard him. Though, when she thinks back on the moment, she can remember the soft, whispering tickle of his breath hitting her ear. She wanted him to be whispering. 

 She greeted him back weakly and she did not try to hide it. With everyone focused on Rayan, the awkward encounter would just be their own and she could not muster the strength to make it anything but. 

The corner of his mouth quirked up, weakly too, and he said, “You look really nice.”

All at once, she could hear the ocean. She could hear volcanoes erupting. She could feel the familiar sharp chill of ice, and she could smell the smoke of paper burning. 

She could not remember what her response was, or if she even responded at all. She could only remember the pain of living without the only man she had loved for months after being together for so long.

Through the fog, a voice prompted, “Let’s get a pic with the Godparents.”

She craned her head and found herself staring at a man that she had gone to school with. Kareem was known for being tall, charismatic, and a photographer. Therefore, she was not surprised that her friend had invited him to the gathering. Though she wished that someone would have filled him in on the current situation before he suggested such things. 

Rayan’s parents moved away. She took a half step closer to Rayan’s Godfather. Rayan’s Godfather took a half step closer to her.

For the first time in months, they were pressed against each other. 

Her chest felt hollow. Icy. It burned to inhale. It took too much effort to exhale. She lifted the baby so that he was perfectly between them. A brown hand fixed the baby’s dress. Fingertips grazed fingertips. She could taste iron pooling just behind her teeth, and then she smiled. 

Her first tear fell when the camera shuttered for the last time. The people were emotional, too. They spoke to the baby in whispers. The Godfather left her side to go gawk at his Godson. 

It was only her in the center of that stage. She was alone. There was no one in her corner anymore. 

She had no husband. No new baby to baptize. No boyfriend to envision her future with. 

She felt as if she was going to drown. She sucked in a burning breath. 

She tasted the iron.

[misamoresanfield]

Red is for passion🤍 - Trent Alexander Arnold

Summary: You and Trent are only friends with benefits, well that's what you call it, but recently feelings have gotten involved between you two.

Warnings: Smut (18+)

-

He was on your mind. Ever since the first time you two had done the deed, he remained planted in your head. Not only was he spectacular in bed, but he was a really sweet person aswell. He always asked if you were okay and if what he was doing was alright. Overall, he was a very respectful guy. He was never judgmental or anything, always accepting you for who you were and what you looked like. He never wanted you to be uncomfortable. The stereotype about footballers was that they were rude and only saw woman as objects, but Trent was the complete opposite. The last time you had seen him was a few nights ago when he slept over. To be honest, you didn't want him to leave in the morning, however you knew he had to. Just thinking about him would get you all flustered and when he was around, you tried your best to conceal it. You had been friends with benefits for a few months now and only that, but recently, you wished you two could be more than that. What was he doing to you? How was he making you feel like this? Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same towards you but immediately stopped, telling yourself that you were only a hookup to him, he was only respectful because he was a kind person. You wished you could see him more than you did, knowing he was a busy man.

As you pondered in bed, questioning what these new found feelings were, you imagined how many other women he was talking to at the moment. It didn't make him a bad person, but he was good with the ladies, let's just say that. On one hand, you thought to yourself, maybe he hadn't realised that you liked him. On the other, maybe he did. The way his dimples were highlighted every time he smiled, even a little. The way his big brown boba eyes sparkled in the light. The way his pearly white teeth brought out the niceness of his face. The way his soft facial features made you feel warm inside. The way his body was muscular but not too muscular. Everything about him was perfect. You really couldn't help it. It was past midnight and you couldn't sleep, laying down with horniness flowing through your body. This was not the time to be like this at all. Even though he was respectful, he was definitely a cocky man and you didn't want to boost his ego. You knew he would tease you about this but nothing could stop you from needing him. Deciding to swallow it up, you built up the courage and you texted him.

_____________________________________________

Trent

Trent

You okay?

im horny

Are you?😏

yeah

Want me to come over beautiful?

yeah

Okay

I'm on my way baby❤️

_____________________________________________

You were waiting impatiently for him to tell you he was outside. All you were wearing was a white long sleeve shirt and your black panties. You didn't bother to put on any pyjama bottoms because you already knew that it would end up on the floor as soon as you saw Trent. What was the point of putting on pyjamas, just to take them off? Trent didn't live too far from you, only around a thirty minute driving away. He was the only man you felt comfortable showing your body to but obviously you knew he was probably doing things with other women. Well, that was what you had told yourself, you didn't actually know if it was the reality. He had told you otherwise though.

When he pulled up, he called you to tell you that he was at your door. You didn't even respond, ending the phone call immediately and walking towards the door. You were hungry for him and you couldn't take it anymore. Trying to seem as calm as possible, you opened the door but you couldn't stop yourself from instantly smashing your lips against his. He kissed you back with pace, enjoying this very much. Since you weren't doing it, he made sure to lock your door for you. After that, he wrapped your legs around his torso as your arms were wrapped around his neck, continuing to make out with you. He knew your place off by heart and so he took you both to your room. It was always clean and you had told him your preferred to have sex in there. The more you kissed, the more you needed him. Trent was so careful as you carried you up the stairs, not wanting to hurt you in anyway. Your lips were still connected when you two had finally reached your bed. He gently laid you down and got on top of you.

"Hi gorgeous." He chuckled softly before you pulled him in to continue your kiss. It had occurred to him in his mind that he hadn't even got a chance to greet you at the door.

"Hi." You broke the make out session for a second and then swiftly carried on again. It was definitely steamy and as you kept going, it was getting more and more passionate. This was so amazing.

"So desperate for me." He spoke, moving down to your neck. You loved it when he kissed you there so much. He was so good at everything. He delicately slid his hand down your panties. "You're so wet for me already." He began rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to let out little moans.

"I did tell you I was horny." You reminded him in a tone indicating that you liked it very much. He was rock hard solid. Even though he liked when he made you feel so good that you couldn't speak, he also enjoyed hearing you talk when his dick was inside you, going in and out of you or when he was rubbing your clit because the whiny, moaning voice you let out was so sexy to him, especially since you would moan right afterwards. "Fuck." You closed your eyes, feeling the incredible sensation he gave you.

"Yeah, you like that baby?" He was the most beautiful, alluring and enchanting man you had ever seen and the way he planted butterflies in your stomach, you would've thought he was a gardener.

"Mmm." You could only reply, not having the slightest care about answering him with words. He took off your panties properly and took off your shirt carefully, trying to not mess up your bonnet and head scarf. Immediately, he started teasing your entrance which made you frustrated. He could see how badly you wanted his dick and he was going to give it to you eventually. When his fingers went in, you let out a little gasp, feeling the pleasure.

"Why is everything about you so perfect?" He mumbled to himself, hoping you wouldn't hear what he had just said. He couldn't even find the words to describe your beauty.

"Hmm?" You didn't understand it. One, what he said was so quiet that it was impossible to fully get it and two, you picked up a tiny fraction of it, all you heard was the word 'perfect'.

"Nothing- come here, let me feel your lips." With his other hand, he gently caressed your cheek before he leaned down a little to connect your lips again. He was the best kisser. Trent's fingers felt amazingly good, you were so thankful that he was extraordinarily handsome and amazing at sex. Your kiss was a slow one, letting the attraction between you two come forward. When tongues were involved, you were even wetter and you were already like the pacific ocean down there. You were letting out little moans which you couldn't control as you kissed. He needed you just as bad as you needed him. You had to pull away once he began fingering you faster and faster. "You're so fucking sexy baby. Do you know that?"

"Yes daddy." You moaned out. He always made you feel good, the only time when he made you slightly upset was when you were overthinking. He was always so addicting.

"If you call me that again beautiful, I'm gonna have to pound you." Trent voiced truthfully. He loved it when you called him that. He didn't know why.

"Please daddy." Hearing that, you pulled him down to kiss again. You couldn't get enough of his big pillow soft lips. It was as if they were on his face just to taunt you. He rapidly kissed you back of course, feeling one of your arms pulling on his shirt and the other still wrapped around his neck. He let you take his shirt off him, revealing his picture perfect abs and sweaty smooth skin. If you were to look up the word 'luscious', Trent Alexander Arnold would come up. "Mm..you feel so good." You were almost ready to climax, which he could tell as your walls clenched around his fingers.

"You're so close, aren't you baby?" He asked you, going at a faster pace. You're eyes closed by themselves for a moment before they reopened and rolled back. He smirked gazing down at you, knowing the affect he had on you and your body.

"Mmm." That was the last thing that you let out before he took his fingers out of you slowly, making you feel confused as to why he wasn't letting you cum. "Why did you stop?" You questioned him with a face you didn't realise looked innocent. However, you were far from that.

"Cos' I want you to cum with my dick inside you baby." Trent made sure you knew why he did it. You were so needy for him, it was unreal. He knew it aswell, him only getting more cocky. "Is that okay?" You nodded straight away. His dick was like a necessity to you. He gave you a quick peck before sliding down his sweatpants and boxers, taking them off completely.

After a few seconds, he lifted your legs up, separating them and he slipped his big cock inside your aching pussy. This resulted in you letting out your second gasp of the night. He began with a pace that ensured you felt comfortable but quickly sped up. You were making sounds you didn't even know you could make as he would grunt occasionally. You always had fantastic sex with him. Why was he so talented at this? He connected his lips to yours again as you moaned in his mouth.

"You're pussy feels so fucking good baby." You were in complete ecstasy when he said that to you. Your eyes had rolled back again and closed due to the euphoria. He could fuck you in any position and enjoy your pussy just the same. He loved doggy because he could see your perfect body arched infront of him while his cock went in and out of it. He also got to choke you, hold your boob and pull your hair softly. He loved missionary because he got to see your beyond beautiful face. He loved fucking you on your side because it was easier to grab your boob. He just loved whenever you guys were together. After a while of thrusting into you and feeling elated, Trent was close. With your tight walls clenching his cock, he could tell you were almost close aswell. "You gonna cum for me?"

"Mmm..." Was all that managed to escape your mouth, feeling the incredible sensation in your lower stomach. No one would ever be able to fuck you like this, which he had told you before.

"I need you to use your words, beautiful." He began to speed up so that he could get both of you to the finish line.

"Y-yes daddy." You used all the brain power you could to get those words out. He was the best you had ever had and unbeknownst to you, you were the best he'd ever had.

"Good girl. Cum for me." Your moans were getting louder and louder until they slowed down when you came. Trent had orgasmed at the same time as you. When there was nothing left in you, he gently pulled you back into a kiss and then helped you clean yourself up. What a gentleman.

He aided you in putting your pyjamas on properly so that you could finally get some sleep. You had decided to change what you had previously worn and put on a pair of pyjamas bottoms this time with a matching vest. "That was amazing, Y/N." He gave you another quick kiss before adjusting your noodle straps while he had already put on his sweatpants. After he had put his hoodie back on, you saw him making his way towards the door. "Bye beautiful-"

"Don't leave." He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you. "You can sleep over. It's late anyway and you still have your shorts and shirt you left here the other day. You can sleep in that." You recommended to him. You didn't want to feel lonely and your feelings for him were only growing.

"You sure?" He smiled at you with sweet eyes. He had slept over before, but tonight felt a bit different since he would get butterflies whenever he looked at you.

"Yeah." You confirmed, wanting him to come back to your bed. "I'll go get them." Maybe this was all you needed in order to get a good nights rest.

"Okay." Quickly, you went downstairs to go and grabbed his left over clothes as excitement took over your body. When you arrived back in your room, you saw him sitting on your bed waiting patiently.

"Here you go." You handed them to him. He could see how beaming you were that he was staying which he found very adorable. "You can go to the bathroom to change if you want."

"Thank you." He spoke before getting up and going into the bathroom. He was secretly joyous that you had told him to stay because it meant that he could spend more time with you. You were the only girl he liked and the only one he was really doing something with but if any other woman had asked him to stay, he wouldn't of. You were all he thought about sometimes and he couldn't help it. Leaving the bathroom when he had finished, he came back to join you in your bed. "Look at you not wanting me to leave."

"Shut up." You looked with him with a fake death stare. He giggled at your facial expression, pulling you in for another kiss. Every time your lips connected, you both felt butterflies in your lower stomach, emphasising your feelings for one another. "I just like having you around." He turned his head to smile again at your words.

"I like having you around too." Trent began rubbing his hand on your thigh slowly. He loved that you were comfortable with him. What made you more attractive was how forward you were. You weren't too shy to let him know that you wanted him to stay, you told him when you wanted to have sex, you told him when he was annoying you, what you wanted and so on. He didn't feel as though he had to walk on eggshells with you. You understood him and he understood you.

"I'm tired." You yawned, laying down on the bed and whipping your soft blanket on you. Trent was still sat up, observing you.

"Yeah, I bet you are." He gave you a cheeky grin, before laying down with you. He giggled again once you saw your face giving him his second death stare. After a while of talking, you two were on the verge of falling asleep.

"I don't wanna overstep or anything, but can we cuddle?" You proposed in a sleepy voice, waiting for his answer before doing anything.

"Yeah." He was going to ask the same thing if he was being honest. You were already turned to the side, not facing him so he got on his side and wrapped his arms around you. You were the little spoon.

"Good night." Your eyes were practically closing by themselves. Without thinking about it, you put your arms around his, feeling at complete peace with him.

"Good night beautiful." He repeated back to you. He liked calling you pet names because you guys had built that closeness, and when he called you 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous', he meant it.

Finally, you both had fallen asleep, content in each other's arms. You loved this so much and wished it could happen more often. You felt as if he was protecting you as his muscular arms hugged your waist. This was the best sleep you had gotten in a while and you were glad you were spending it with Trent. He had trouble sleeping sometimes. When he lost a game, he would sit and relive his bad moments and mistakes until his eyes closed. When he was stressed, he would lay and overthink about almost everything. When he was frustrated, he would normally stare off into space until he got over it eventually. However, when he was with you, he fell asleep instantly, feeling the comfort and warmth that you radiated. Also, the sex you had just had was too good.

The following morning, Trent was up before you but didn't want to wake you as you looked so tranquil still in his arms. You must have shuffled in your sleep because you were now on him with your arms around him. He could only gaze down at you with a soft admiration on his face. How did you look perfect even when you were sleeping? He began caressing your cheek very gently and kissed your forehead. That was what had woke you up.

"Morning gorgeous." He smiled down at you as your eyes fluttered open like butterfly wings. What a beautiful sight.

"Mm. Morning." Your voice sounded so sleepy and tired even though you had just awakened. You tightened your grip around Trent with your arms.

"You wanna keep cuddling?" Trent already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say it. He was going to give you what you wanted.

"Mmm." You replied before he carefully pulled you up closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck straight away while your head buried itself in it and he hugged your waist again.

Eventually, you both got up a while later. You had lent him a spare toothbrush that you had because you knew this wasn't the last time he was going to need it. After you both finished with your daily morning routines, you both met again downstairs in the kitchen. You could cook, but you weren't bothered this morning, so Trent opted for ordering you guys breakfast instead. You were both sat on your couch watching a movie, waiting patiently until your food arrived.

"Y/N, we need to talk about something." The scouser expressed, bringing you closer to him so that you knew it was about something important.

"About what?" You questioned him with curious eyes. This made you kind of nervous as his face seemed unsure about what he was going to say. What if he was ending whatever you guys had? You had no clue how to react.

"Us." He explained, still with an uncertain facial expression. It wasn't the first time he wanted to speak to you about this but he had to speak about it now. "I know you like me."

"Trent-" You were the one who didn't know what to say now. It wasn't as if it wasn't obvious now that you thought about it. You didn't hide it very well.

"It's okay if you do." He reassured you because he didn't want you to think he had a problem with it, in fact, he loved it. "You can't help who you like, especially since we have lots of sex. It makes sense."

"I mean..yeah I like you but obviously I understand if you don't like me. I know we're just like, friends with benefits so-" You continued by saying.

"I like you." He cut you off because he didn't want you to feel as though you had to ramble on. He couldn't stop himself from telling you.

"You do?" You were flustered by what he had said, having a familiar feeling in your lower stomach. You hadn't expected to hear that at all.

"Yeah." Trent grinned as he saw you blushing, before chuckling a little at your cuteness. He was so glad. "You're the woman I want Y/N."

"Stop-" You covered your face with your hands as you were sure it was noticeable that you couldn't stop smiling. It was so easy for him to make you like this. His giggling increased.

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a date, when we're both free." He suggested with his heavy accent.

"I'd love to Trent." This was one of the best mornings you had experienced. You woke up in the arms of the man you liked, got free food, were told he liked you back and was asked on a date.

The food had arrived a short time later, causing you to be relieved as your hunger was through the roof. You both carried on watching the movie and then moved on to another, cuddling some more after you had finished eating. The cuddling did lead to a make out session, but who could blame you two. You didn't want him to leave but he had to go home, giving you a quick peck before he left.

Five months later....

You and Trent were dating now which you were enjoying every second of. He loved to spoil you and take care of you at the time. He came to your place way more often and the sex was still beyond amazing, as always. There was no one you would rather spend your days with. Your man was your biggest supporter and you were his, always showing up at his home games. You were living your best life.

-

So, the Saka one is coming next as requested so stay tuned guys! I'm also going to be writing another Tchoua and Jules one x

Hope you guys enjoyed🤍

[2serenity0]

Sooooo I’ve had this story (that is turning into a serie) that I’m currently writing. Should I post it once the first chapter is finished or not ???

It will be my first work here so I’m quite afraid.

It’s an xreader with Trent

[ethereal555]

CHEETAH ! PART ONE

:)

virgil van dijk x black!reader

essentially virgil is a cheetah in this.

------

His matte black Mercedes pulls up into your driveway. Just like routine, he flashes his lights twice.

It acted as a greeting - he always assumed I was watching like a nervous little girl. I always was though; like a kid at Christmas in hopes of catching Santa.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, you can damn near hear it in your ears. In a daze, you turn quickly to observe yourself in the mirror. As a result your cheetah print robe falls losely around your chocolate frame. The robe framed your pear shaped figure well, exposing your black lace push up bra that made your cleavage pop out. The matching black lace panties you wore on show also, and you had to admit the way it elegantly sat on your wide hips was to die for.

It goes without saying that he loved your body, like a dog and its bone. Let alone when you had it oiled up for him, waiting for him - like a meal.

You tie your robe around you so that only your cleavage was on show. For now. You admired the way in which it cinched your waist. And you took time to admire the way you looked - as a whole - in the reflection before you.

There was always a sense of pride that floated within you, when you looked at yourself. Not in a cocky way but because you invested in yourself : in how you ate, bathed, the products you used, the perfume you used, the quality of hair you bought and the clothes you wore.

This drew Virgil to you, you were a young woman with an advanced sense of maturity; a quality possessed by no one your age. You knew what you wanted, got it and then attracted people who were likewise - like himself.

Your naturally coily type 4 hair that would usually sit on your collar bone was now bone straight and hanging down your shoulders, different from the last time he saw you. It was the month of October and therefore in your world, silk press season. Virgil loved your curly hair. He worshipped it and you did too but, during the months of winter where it was usually very hectic - because of the annual buzz of your shapewear business - you knew having your hair in this state was easier to manage and would be less time cosuming.

You run your fingers through your hair, shamelessly flexing your hang-time in the mirror until you hear your door bell ring, a notification popping up on your phone that read,

Virgil

im at the door :)

You take your time walking towards the door not wanting to look out of breath when you were face to face with him but, also due to a part of you burdened with jealousy. You hadn’t seen this man since last month, September 3rd to be exact. It was now October 29th. You missed him dearly and wanted to really spend this time with him wholesomely but the inferno of jealousy burning within you seemed to be overpowering your mind as you got closer and closer to the door.

Seeing his signature manbun through the glass panel on your door made your heart skip a beat. Logically it wouldn’t be fair to express your selfish feelings about his lack of communication with you as you were involved with an occupied man who had both a wife and multiple kids; especially during these autumn months when his kids were starting back at school.

You both were in a difficult position, him mostly as he had the most to lose and you because of your dignity. You’d never usually go for someone married or with kids as to do so you’d need to bare an innate sense of maturity to cooperate in those situations but with Virgil it was how he treated you that drew you to him. Hell, how he looked at you alone would make you fall to your knees. The gifts he showered you with; the cars, the jewels, the houses, the sex and the bags were big tokens of love for a girl like me. As a 22 year old girl, there weren’t men my age with these capabilities, so you can imagine I was immediately onboard.

It was addicting; the disguising, the private jets, the meeting at hotels, the sense of mystery he brought to your life. The ‘on edge’ feeling, it riled you. It enlivened you. Not to mention way he fucked you, rough and hard and senseless somedays and then when he would make love to your pussy with his tongue and fingers on other days.

How aggressive he was with you, it enticed you. It brought a sense of danger, a feeling you lacked in your life.

You know it did say a lot about your character, but from your perspective you were young and allowed to make mistakes. You deserved to be loved, and in your head life was too short to miss out on this experience of “love” or lust. Not many people your age could claim an experience like this so you embraced it, even when parts of you knew there was potential for this to be a short-lived rollercoaster ride.

There were boundaries that I intentially set with Virgil when we first started seeing each other. I no longer wanted him to sleep with his wife, especially because he was sleeping with, unprotected at that. This was something that “showed my age” he always said and something he often dismissed as me “trying to start with him'”. But I swore to him, if I was to ever see any evidence of them sleeping together, we would have a problem. Gladly, I feel he is listening, he has spoken about their sexual spark diminishing ever since having kids and to support this; his sex drive with me is insane in a way it wouldn't be if he was sexually active with her.

He knocks again, breaking me out of my deep ponder.

You exhale, opening the door wide enough for him to enter. He ducked, walking through the door way, his hair as always slicked back not a fly away in sight. He wore a black crew neck shirt and black baggy joggers, and a silver cuban link that adnored his chest.

He knew what his chains did to you.

You sway your hips into your kitchen leaving him in the doorway his mouth agape, his mind racing not able to verablise how good he thought you looked.

He follows you into the kitchen like a lost puppy. The smell of vanilla invading his nostrils both from you and the candles you’d lit throughout the house. He looks around, his eyes admiring the new rugs you'd bought whilst you went to collect your green juice from the fridge. A nightly ritual you underwent.

“You don’t wanna give me a hug?” His deep voice sounds, the bass in his voice drawing you to look at him as you drank the entirety on your juice, hiding your smirk behind the bottle.

He eyes you back, his intimidating eyes falling from yours to your cleavage, and back up again appreciating how good you looked behind the kitchen island, your breasts spilling out of your robe. The older man walks up to you, standing behind your body. Your 5’7 self nothing in comparison to his 6'5 goodness. He lands his cold fingers on your collar bone rubbing them in circular motions. He hums, the vibration heading straight down your body.

You breathe in and out deeply, your eyes rolling back. Putting the bottle down, you turn around to face him not before making sure your plump bum rubbed up against him. You embrace his rock solid physique.

His firm hands travel down the length of your silk pressed hair, “Where are you curls Ameena?” he queried trying to find your eye contact.

You sigh at the memory, pushing them back and standing firm in your nonchalance.

“Not here” you muffled into his chest.

Feeling his body against yours brought out the feline in you, it needed to be studied. This cat like feeling manifests as you drag your fingers up and down his back inhaling in his intoxicating fragrance.

His chin lands on the crown of your head. “I’ve missed that attitude.”

The storm that had once subsided was back, you draw back fast, smacking at his chest. “Where have you been? Of course you’ve missed me, you haven’t bothered to see me in ages' you complained, your upper lip raised in irritation.

“I’ve been busy, klein mesije” he drags pulling you back towards him by your waist.

“Yeah doing what? Playing house? At award ceremonies with that b- woman -” you collect yourself pointing at his chest with your index finger, the nonchalant facade had faded. “holding umbrellas for her and shit? You didn’t even check on me to see how I felt after seeing that all over the internet. Or check on me in general for that matter!”

“Ameena-” he chuckles at your absurdity as he swipes his hands over his face.

'And no, sending me money isn't a form of communication', you rebute, crossing your arms over you chest in an act of dominance which actually had the complete opposite effect because now his focus was on your twin giriles that were sat even higher than before on your glistening chest.

“So you wanted me to bring you as my plus one? And how would that outcome be, Ameena?” he spoke softly to your suprise. He usually got very defensive with these topics, maybe he really did miss you.

“You’re on punishment, you should never go more than a week without talking to me. It makes me feel disposable and used. You claim we have more than just sexual chemistry - an emotional connection - yet you chose to ignore my existence. This is what I mean - this is why I couldn’t have that - no - why i can't have a baby with you.”

A crash of realisation paralyses you. You attempt to renege on what you had said but it’s too late as you see his head cock to the side almost instantaneously.

You hurriedly walk to the other end of the kitchen island towards the entrace of your living room in mortification, feeling his eyes follow your silhouette.

This was a low blow from you, throughout the 2 year entanglement, he had attempted many times to 'give you his son', to which you always profusely refused - you just weren't ready. He'd get offended saying that you were unserious, this whole saga stopped when you started taking birth control meaning he could cum in you. He doesn't know this, what he thinks is that you're now willing to have kids with him. The con regarding this temporoary victory was that you didn't know how you'd address him when 5 months down the line he asks 'why aren't you pregnant yet' .

His eyebrows furrow, a moment of realisation prominent in his expression. 'What did you say, Ameena?" he shot back.

There he was, the man we usually see on the field. You had no choice but to berate yourself, you couldn't keep your gob shut! The fibres in your body stopped moving for half a second. The world felt still until you spewed out some words to escape from the deafening silence.

'I said, you should never neglect me like this again or it's done.' you rush, knowing exactly where you'd taken this conversation to.

'No. After that..'

" I - I Listen Virgil if you're in the mood to argue you should leave, you should be making it up to me right now not grilling me. You are in the wrong, admit it." Your confident attempt to gaslight him fell upon deaf ears. You begin to strut off, not wanting to deal with the can of worms you had opened up or it was going to be a long night. You hoped nothing of the sort would happen.

You never thought you were one of those girls, the type to tell on themselves in the presence of a man.

'No Ameena. Come. Here” he forefingers beckon. “That’s right, one step at a time”.

You retreat towards the island. You lean both elbows on your kitchen island. “What!?” you question unenthuiastically, itching in trepidation.

"You're being disrespectful, you know how I feel about you walking away from me. Don't do it again." He walks towards you, licking his lips slowly. Slut, you screamed in your head.

"Stand up straight" he ordered following your movement with his eyes, his chin raised. You stay in this position, side eyeing him as he walks closer to you.

He grumbles with clenched teeth.

He latches onto your arms, pulling you into his chest, your back slamming against his front.

"Ow, Virgil" you grimace.

“You’re going to do whatever the hell I tell you to do” he rasped into you ear, you feel his left hand circle around your neck. You wince, trying to wringle yourself out of his embrace.

“When I want you to have my kids, you will. I'll make you the mother of my kids. Will you stop me?" you shake your head, a moan escaping your mouth as you fight to wriggle out of his nasty grasp.

"Use your words, Ameena"

“Ok Virgil!” you answer desperately, craining your neck upwards to loosen his hold on your neck. He keeps his hand there, walking you both closer to the island, so your bare stomach is pressed against the cold marble of the counter. Your robe, in the process of your tussle with Virgil, had unravelled.

''Virgil, my hair!" you cry like a brat in fear of all the tussling ruining your silk press.

"I don't care. Say you're sorry.' you gasp.

Now he held both your hands behind your back as if you were a hostage. With ever second that passed and you were silent, he manhandled your body in a different way.

Ten seconds had passed of silence so he pulled your robe off, earning a hiss from you when the cold marble met your skin.

"So thats the only thing you heard, I literally expressed my sorrow regarding us not speaking and the only thing you caputured was that I wouldnt have your babies?" you grit out kissing your teeth in disgust.

A stinging sensation, illicits a mini scream from your lips.

"Say you're sorry!" he repeated loudly.

The reality was, you weren't sorry. In fact, that was the most truthful thing you'd ever said to him. You didn't see him divoricng his wife anytime soon, and to have a baby with a secret woman, would in return make the baby a secret; yes you were flawed butyou wouldn't dare bring a child into that type of situatipn. It wouldnt be fair.

"I'm sorry Virg. I'm cold" you whisper.

'Louder.'

"I'm sorry!"you shout. "thats so humiliating Virgil" you mutter.

"Good girl' he kisses your back, slapping your ass one more time before letting you get up.

You stand, scoffing, being naked in the kitchen always seemed to happen whilst he was here. This man, you complained in your head, what have I gotten myself into for crying out loud.

"Pick up my robe" you ordered and like a dog he does as told. I think it's because he knew I was no longer in the mood as I hated when he dominated me like that during arguments. It made me feel weak.

"Next time, use your manners" he scolds scratching his goatee, I know it took everything in him to not cuss me out for speaking to him like that.

"Really though. For real, I will not have a kid with someone who doesn't contact me when they're away from me, and who keeps me as a second option. everytime. It gives deadbeat. I know you'd hate for me to find someone he doesn't do that", you finish tieing knot around your waist.

Virgil's jaw ticks for the second time this night, he swallows the anger he feels rising up so he could articulate himself without yelling at the young girl. She hated it.

"Ameena. Don't be silly, were you not just upset with me because I was not contacting you a lot? Why do you think that was? I was doing the opposite of what you have just accused me to be. I was being a father. I was spending time with my kids, who are most important to me. How dare you call me a deadbeat".

He turns around.

A breathe gets caught in your throat, but it's forced to stay there as he continues his speech. "This is what I mean when I say you show your age, you complain about me not seeing you and not texting you for days at a time as if you don't know how much my kids mean to me.”

"You really shouldn't complain about being a second option in regard to them. That’s my family, my everything . You will always be a second option - you knew what you were getting yourself into."

Nothing comes to your brain not a rebutal, nothing. The reality that was your situation dawns upon you. You felt as if common sense had only entered into you at the start of his latter speech. Clouds of humiliation hover over you.

His words had sucked the breathe of you. He was right, you couldn't interrupt a man's life and then claim first place.

You walk to stand infront of him, your voice small. This was the first time, in ages, he had made you feel like what you were, a little girl. "So, if I have your babies, would they, as well as I, still be a second option?".

His face is stoic, the horny and playful vibe that was once in the room had dissipated. “No, they'd be equal. But since I am such a deadbeat - what was the need for the question. You already have an assumption of me lodged in your brain, no?"

“My baby” you thought, he didn't show it but you knew he was upset. He blinked often, trying to conceal the disappointment in his eyes.

You press your chest on his, the urge to be in his embrace triumphing. You attempt to wrap his heavy arms around your waist.

“I'm sorry, truly. The comment was audacious and immature . I didn’t mean it. You're an amazing father, it’s just that the reality of having your babies seem so near, and its daunting Virgil. I was just projecting my fears”.

His arms fall back to his sides as soon as you let go of them, as if his arms were dead.

The sense of disheartment you felt wasn't going to prevail. In this moment, just like other moments you both had shared, you felt the only way to express your sorrow was to initiate something sexual. It usually worked, but this time you weren't sure.

You look up at him your chin snuggled onto his chest,whining..

"Daddy, I'm so so sorry..." you bite at his crew neck pulling your head back. He liked it when you acted like this, desperate. And in this case there was no acting, you were despearte to be in his good books again.

To your suprise he is looking back down on you, earning your heart a little jump, the eye contact felt intimidating. "Virgieeeee" you drag, puckering your lips on your tip toes. Vocalising your fustration of not being able to reach his lips, despite being on your tip toes with a small cry.

A nasty thought springs into mind, your heart racing as you predict the outcome. You untie the cheetah printed robe, making sure to not lose eye contact with the man. Aroused, you pull your perky breasts out of your lace push up bra squeezing them for him, enjoying the sensations of your needy hands on them.

A barley audible groan sounds from his throat as you collect saliva in your mouth allowing it to dribble down to your twins. You loudly suck the remaining dribble back into your mouth.

Virgil's eyes darken, a little quiver underneath his left eye. He tucks his bottom lip underneath his teeth fully entraced in what you were doing. You pinch your wet nipples, causing your chest to involuntarily rise.

"virgil, i'm ready, look, so why aren't you saying anything?" you whisper in a small small voice.

"You can do me however you want .. however." you plead, your wide eyes pleading alongside your words and voice.

"Get upstairs. Now".

---

I apologise for any typos. pt.2coming soon

xxxx

[amirawrah]

⭐︎welcome to my blog⭐︎ ────────────────────────────────────────── INBOX IS OPEN ⭐︎

⭐︎ hi, my name is amirah, welcome to my blog, i'm a black girl that writes black reader fics feeding my delusions , i love the frenchies + i'm with lfc and barca community but i'm also slowly turning into a arsenal fan and i'm muslim btw if ya'll need to know that. my inbox is open if anyone needs to chat or send requests. please lets have some positivity in here!!!

⭐︎ a look into ___ relationship side : is a thing i'm doing for sum players to showcase what i think they would do and act and behave in a relationship with reader. you can also find this with the tag : relationship side with mirah🌺

so far: ibou🌺 | wilo🌺 | jude🌺 | alejandro🌺 coming soon..

⭐︎ my tags: mirahsworks🦫 | mirah thoughts | lowkey in love series☀️ | saryn&jules | once in a lifetime series🐻🤎🎨 | meerah&wilo | relationship side with mirah🌺 .

────────────────────────────────────────── MY WORKS ⭐︎

⭐︎IBRAHIMA KONATE⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

a look into ibou's relationship side cooking up chaos a birthday to remember Eid Mubarak, Habibti!! - new!!!! parisian romance 🤎 with Ibou - moodboard ☀︎ a week escape 🍍♥︎🌺☀️🌊 the Maldives with Ibrahima🥥🐚☀️🏖️ -moodboard

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎WILLIAM SALIBA⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

a look into wilo's relationship side Encore Une Fois His favourite place -new!!!!!!!

ongoing series⭐︎

once in a lifetime series insight and masterlist

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎JUDE BELLIANGHAM⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

go to sleep home, finally his favourite scent a look into judes relationsip side coachella heat Everything real returns Tastes like home -new!!!! All i need is you -new!!!! Before you go -new!!!!

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎JULES KOUNDE⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

sweet love basketball games with jules -moodboard after the rain, us Laid bare in love -new!!!! Everything, unsaid -new!!!!

ongoing series⭐︎

lowkey in love series insight and masterlist

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎ALEJANDRO BALDE⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

the drive to forget

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎MICHAEL OLISE⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

Where’s My Matcha? BREAKING: They're Fine. Caught mid-laugh Healing looks like this In every lifetime ,It's you -new!!!!! One second -new!!!! Five minutes -new!!!

──────────────────────────────

⭐︎JOBE BELLINGHAM⭐︎

oneshots⭐︎

This is all i want A Future with you -new!!!!!

────────────────────────────────────────── IN PRODUCTION⭐︎ ONE SHOTS AND STORIES

LEVI COLWILL

TRENT ALEXANDER-ARNOLD

JAMAL MUSIALA

[sinflowersugar]

Please do not tag me in any fic that contains an 'original character', OC, as the 'reader'.

I'm sure there are plenty of other people who are grateful for your work, but it is not for me.

[blueaetherr]

welcome to eden

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

warning(s): none

summary: the one where trent recounts his journey to discover eden

author's note: something small to get me back into writing again

now playing: she's mine pt. 1 by j. cole

With the day slowly fading into the night, people retiring inside, both parties equally wanting to rest and repair for the following day—the day had come to an end, simple and peaceful. Quiet too, only minimal and distant noise interrupting the silence of the early night. Despite this, activities both calm and loud continued within one's walls.

As for Trent and Y/N, they had opted for both. Loud activity—that leftover piece of cake on the kitchen counter, the game controller stuck and forgotten in the folds of the couch, the music speaker misplaced in the garden, the UNO cards left on the coffee table. It all remained scattered across their shared home as remnants, now existing as cherished memories to discuss in later years. 

Calm activity, they saved for the end of the day. Something as simple and uncomplicated as laying in bed together, feeling the wind touch up against exposed skin, acknowledging one another's presence through straying touches, tangled limbs and soothing breaths. How they finished their day would be how they would, too, start their day in the coming hours. 

Adjusting her position Y/N exhaled, saying, "Tell me something I'd like to hear." Her voice came out as a whisper, small and slightly muffled against Trent's chest, like she was shy and scared to speak. But in truth, it was simple; she wanted to hear Trent speak. To hear him lift up his voice and pronounce words the way that he did so perfectly every time, something Y/N felt like she would never get over.

Asking to hear Trent's words and voice wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was habitual and familiar to their relationship. In times when they wanted to sleep but couldn't, when they wanted to relax and falter a bit after a taxing day, when they wanted to bring about a sense of calm in a moment of chaos—whether in person or over the phone—Y/N would request Trent's words. 

Tell me a story. Tell me about your day today, honey. How did you find the movie? From the hypotheticals to the yes or no wonders of life itself. Anything and everything was on the table and Trent would, of course, always say yes to her requests. 

Normally, if Trent was given free rein about what he could discuss with his partner, he would have to think for a moment, always looking to capture the perfect exchange of words. This time, however, he found no need to wander his mind for thoughts. "You weren't the first person I ever fell for."

"Oh wow, wow, wow." In any other situation where Y/N had the energy, she would've reacted more to his opening statement. Perhaps a questioning look or a warning yet joking pinch to the chest. Instead, she remained inert in Trent's arms and expressed in a neutral tone, "I feel so, so loved right now."

"I didn't mean it like that, obviously," Trent laughed a bit, his laughter bouncing off the walls. Even with the neutral tone, he could hear the dramatic undertone behind it. "You gotta hear everything I have to say and then make up your mind about how you feel."

"And how do you think I'll be feeling post-explanation?" A fooling curiosity settled behind her voice. Will it be worth it to listen to your words? After all, she did request something she would like to hear.

Tilting his head to look towards the window, Trent noticed the shining light rising into the night sky. "Over the moon and beyond."

Humming, Y/N nodded against his chest and relaxed further into his embrace. Big expectations to meet. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. "Let's hear it."

"Well you already know I've had a few girlfriends before you, and it was with my previous girlfriend where I personally felt like I fell in love for the first time. Everything was good, great if you want to go that far. She was the one partner I was always going to my friends and family to talk about. I loved it because she made it so easy; I was happy and she made me happy, and I thought that was more than enough for me to be content with the relationship."

She shifted away from Trent's chest– the distance quite small though not enough to prevent body contact– so she could face him well. "Sounds like you were in Eden," Y/N shaking her head slightly, feigning disappointment. She couldn't allow Trent to get through his story without bringing some cause for laughter to the conversation.

"Just like me get to it. I promise it gets better," Trent huffed out a small laugh, and Y/N soon followed suit. An instant of delight under the night sky. 

Soon laughter fell short into silence and Trent continued, "Anyways, eventually she ended up breaking up with me and I was heartbroken. I was confused and devastated. Everything always felt right to me so I didn't know where it went wrong. I thought she was the one and only, my one and only. I'd fallen, like, pretty hard and I didn't think I would again after that. I found everything in her. She was everything to me. It doesn't get better than that," he exhaled, his eyes drifting randomly around the room, "I mean it shouldn't get better than that."

"But then I met you," Smiling, his gaze returned to his partner, fondness soon collecting in his eyes, "... and I quickly discovered that I was so, so wrong."

"Where she was giving me happiness, you're giving me happiness and more. Where she was giving me joy, you're giving me joy and more. Where she was giving me peace, love, content— you know what? Let me not ramble before I'm just listing everything great about you." Noticing her smile wobble a bit, he took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. A request to comfort and ease her mind. Against her hand, Trent spoke with a small voice, "I mean you get what I'm sayin' right?"

Tell me more, keep going, let me know your thoughts– among many things she wanted to say. But she found herself in her feelings, far too deep, so much so that she failed to find her voice. So instead she simply nodded through sniffles and a struggling smile, allowing him to continue.

"So sure she was my first real, honest love. I fell for her first and that's fact—that'll never change. But she could never reach your ankles, honey. 'Cause I fell for you and suddenly, I felt it again but with you. Heck, I still feel it with you, over and over, every single day. I remember how it felt when we first met. I felt it yesterday. I felt it when we were washing the dishes together a few hours ago." Humming, he wiped away the stray tear escaping her eyes. "And I hope to feel that way tomorrow and every day after that."

"I am and have everything and some with you. You give me more than I need; you are quite literally abundance."

In truth, Trent didn't always have the words for everything, often spontaneous and unintentional in his speech. Still, his love language always pointed back to words of affirmation. Forever with pleasure, he would continue to offer Y/N his voice and words of her choosing. 'Cause in his eyes, it was easy to speak for someone you felt so passionately about, someone who you could never seem to pull away from even when you should.

Speaking on this aspect of the relationship made Trent reflect a bit, his mind rekindling recent thoughts. It made him lean back and think wow. He once believed that he had found true paradise in someone else. That she was everything ideal and secure, and Trent would never find himself in want of something else. 

But then there came Y/N, the genuine living proof of everything ideal and secure and more. In the words of Y/N, Trent found Eden in her. She was this person of paradise, harmony, perfection and ultimate beauty. In mind, spirit and body. Someone to appreciate, love and acknowledge at every point in space and time. And in his words, she was someone of abundance. Always ever-giving and forever infinite in her person. Never would he ever lack with Y/N. The primal things—loud activity, calm activity—continued to leave Trent without wants beyond his partner.

"So how did that meet your expectations?"

Y/N strung out a sigh, exhaling those overwhelming sentiments. Some would think Trent was speaking just to speak, to pass time or for the two to fall asleep well, and that was true. But what was also true was that Trent found delight and happiness in speaking on this subject, speaking about how, actually, Y/N was his one and only. How she was everything—how she gave him everything and more. Yet all she ever asked for in return were his words and speech. 

So here were his words, a mellow proclamation of love and affection, and like every other time it left Y/N joyfully devastated.

The soft breeze in the room shifted her attention towards the opened window for a moment. Soon, she noticed the moon, now high in the sky daintily shining into the bedroom. She hung her head back as she let a small chuckle through her tears. "I'm over the moon and beyond."

[melanieph321]

Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - First Sight Part 1/8

The Spark

@trentione I got the gif from your page. It's what inspired me to write this story 🙌

This story is about the night reader met her boyfriend Dominik and the series of crazy events that led up to the beginning of their love story.

Enjoy!

"I don't wanna go."

"Y/N you can't say that when we're already here."

You were not antisocial, let's make that clear. But after a week of cramming for your nursing exam, the last thing you wanted to do was spend your Friday night at some random guy's apartment.

"Come on, Sami Chun and his friends are cool, we'll have a great time." Your friend, Tara, had to push you up the flight of steps up to the apartment, however, you paused mid step. "Friends? What do you mean his friends?"

She shrugged. "Well he said that he already had some people over, and that I should bring a friend too. So I brought you." She smiled.

"Great." You sighed. "It better not be all guys."

It was. Three guys joined by two naive girls. "You came!" Sami exclaimed. He welcomed you at the door, and everything about him screamed "I sell vapes to underage kids", mainly, because of the tooth pick that he wiggled between his newly bleached teeth, or the overzied white t-shirt he wore that stated that "Surf is life."

"Come in." He waved. " There's loads of beer in the fridge."

You followed him inside, clinging tightly to your purse. Tara seemed giddy with excitement whilst you were sure to be in the beginning of a movie meant to raise awareness about date rape drugs.

"Everyone, this is the girl I was talking about, Tara and her friend...."

It was a small apartment, small but surprisingly tidy for an engineering student. You turned the corner to what looked to be a bedroom turned into a living room. Your eyes swept past the two guys slouching one the sofa, instead frowning at the leather coasters beaneath the glasses of beer set on the table.

"Y/N?"

"Ouch." You groaned, as Tara's elbow stabbed you in the ribs.

"Introduced yourself." She hissed.

"What?"

Tara's eyes darted to her left, reffering to the guy's whose eyes were on you. "Introduce yourself." She repeated, through clenched teeth.

You raised a hand, waving awkwardly. "Hi, I'm Y/N and I'm an alcoholic."

Tara's head dropped to her hands, covering her face, disappointed and embarrassed by your response. However, your attention was drawn to the guys on the sofa, particularly the one with the dimples that flourished when he laughed. It lit something within you, a sudden spark that brought heat to your face. He was cute, dangerously cute. Like, let's rob a bank together cute. Or please let me sit on your pretty face cute. Except for the black tumbleweed growing out of his scalp, he was perfect.

"You guys want something to drink?" Sami offered, having to speak up as his friends laughter was contagious, causing the other guy, the one with the faded afro, to give away a thigh slapping laugh.

"Yeah, let me help you get it." Tara muttered, already regretting having brought you with her. She was clearly into Sami, wanting to impress him.

"Um, where's the bathroom?" You asked.

"Just down the hall and to the left." Sami instructed. He then disappeared into the kitchen with Tara. You nodded your head, excusing yourself as you left the guys on the sofa, effortlessly avoiding eye contact with the one whose face you'd like to sit on.

You took your time in the bathroom, snooping through cabinets as they were filled woth glamorous products that you didn't even keep at your own place. "Who is this guy?" You asked at one point, turning to read the label on the vitamin face serum, containin chemicals that guaranteed clearance of blackheads. Sami was either playing for another team, or very fond of his skin. Then again, it was more than homophobic to assume that only gay men had skincare routines.

"Fuck." You gasped as a knock on the bathroom door interrupted your snooping.

"You done in there?"

"Just a minute!"

You rushed to put everything back where you found it, only to be startled by Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face, as you went to unlock the door. He displayed a poisonous grin.  "Are you good?"

"Um..." Great, he had an accent too. One you didn't recognize where it was from. "...sure." You said.

"You sure?"

"Sure." You nodded, taking a step to the side. "The bathroom is all yours."

He chuckled. "Well, I didn't really have to go. Your friend was asking where you went and I offered to go look."

"Oh." There it was again, that spark in your chest.

"I'm assuming you were snooping through Sami's belongings."

"What? No, I wasn't."

Thank God you were born black otherwise your face would have been crimson right now.

"You sure?" He enjoyed seeing you sweat, you could tell.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You don't even have any proof."

"Well, your friend said that you probably were snooping and that's why you were gone for so long."

Fuck. He got you there. But then he leaned forward, his cologne ambushing your nostrils when he whispered, "Don't worry,  I won't tell." Again, you thank god for gifting you with your dark skin, otherwise it would have given you away. Given away how much he was turning you on.

"There you are." Tara said, seeing you trailing your steps behind Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face. The two of you entered the living room. It was now full of smoke by the way. Evaporating smoke that smelled like bubblegum cherry. Sami was passing around his vape pen, offering it arround to anyone who wanted a hit. Of course Tara wanted to smoke, blowing on Sami's pen as if he had offered to put his dick in her mouth.

"You want?" Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face said, offering you to take a hit of his own vape pen.

"I'm allergic." You replied, or more so, lied.

"Oh."

It was funny, him pulling back the pen as if its tip would burn you.

"Who's this?" You asked, leaning towards Sami's other friend who was also cute, but not as cute as Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face.

"You've never heard of Spitfire?" He asked suprised, turning up the volume to what you could only assumed to be some subculture British rapper.

"Trent only likes music that you can't dance to." Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face leaned in to whisper, his breath close to your ear, the smell of sour candy awakening the hairs on the back of your neck. Your turned to him, glaring curiously. "You dance?"

He grinned. "I'd dance with you."

"Shit. I think we're out of beer." Sami said, tossing the last can in the bin. "Someone's gonna have to make another beer run."

"I'll go." You volunteered, straightening your skirt as you stood up from having been vedged between Trent and Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face.

"Y/N?" Tara questioned, an anxious look on your face. "You're not thinking about going alone are you?"

You shrugged.  "Why not? The shop is only around the corner, no? We passed it on our way here."

"Yes, but you've been drinking."

"I'll go with her."

There was movment behind you. The spark that lit within you already told you who it was.

"See, don't worry babe. Dom will go with her."

Tara looked to blush as Sami threw a reassuring arm around her shoulders, addressing her as "babe". That was the last of Tara's worries, she practically forgot about you after that.

"Your name is Dom?" You said, turning to Mr Let Me Sit On Your Face as the two of you went to put on your shoes in the hallway. He smiled, "What did you think it was?"

"Um..." You do not want to know buddy.

"It's short for Dominik but Trent doesn't let people we know call me that since he had a bully in primary school with the same name."

"So you remind of him, Trent's bully?"

The two of you stepped out of the apartment and took the elevator down. The night was cold once you were fully exposed to it, however, your jean jacket brought you some comfort.

"Apart from the name, I don't really think so. I don't think Trent would want to live with someone who reminded him of his childhood bully."

"So the two of you are roommates?" You asked as you and Dominik turned the corner, on the pursuit to buy beer from the corner shop down the road.

"And lovers." He grinned

"Oh, like me and Tara?"

His laughter echoed in the night, not expecting to meet his match. Little did you know that after the following events of this night, you would have met yours too.

[starlitmelanin]

ᡣ𐭩ྀི do better; t.alexander-arnold

pairing - trent x fem!reader

word count - 1.3k

warnings - none

summary - subbed off in the 70th minute, trent’s frustration boils over by the time he gets home. you comfort him, but also remind him of who he is and the responsibility that comes with it.

the door slams shut with a force that almost makes the walls tremble, the kind of force that tells you exactly how trent's feeling before you even see his face. you're in the living room, scrolling through your phone when you hear it, and the heavy thud of his bag hitting the floor follows seconds later.

you don't need to ask him what's wrong; you already know.

he's in the hallway, and the frustration is written all over his face. it's in the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes are dark and stormy, and how his hands are clenched into fists at his sides like he's trying to keep a lid on whatever's bubbling up inside him.

"hey," you say softly, getting up from the couch and walking over to him.

your voice is gentle, careful, because you know how much he hates losing his cool, how much he prides himself on being in control, especially in front of you.

he doesn't answer, just exhales a harsh breath through his nose, his eyes flicking to the side as if he's trying to compose himself, trying to shake off the anger that's still simmering beneath the surface.

"trent, talk to me," you press, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to ease some of the tension out of his rigid posture.

"they pulled me off," he says finally, his voice low and clipped, like he's trying to keep from shouting. "70th minute. can you believe that?"

you nod, even though you don't need to say anything. you've been with him long enough to know how much he hates being subbed off, how much he values being on the pitch, being in the thick of it with his team. and tonight, being pulled off early, in his eyes, felt like being stripped of that.

"i was fine," he continues, his voice rising just a little, his frustration leaking through despite his efforts to keep it under wraps. "there was no reason for me to come off. none."

you watch him, knowing that right now, he needs to vent, to let it all out. but you also know that once he's calmed down, he'll see things differently. right now, though, it's your job to be the balance, to be the voice of reason when his emotions are running high.

"i know," you say quietly, guiding him towards the couch, hoping that sitting down might help him relax a bit. "but you have to trust the coach's decision. maybe he saw something you didn't."

he shakes his head, the frown on his face deepening. "nah, it wasn't that. i know my body, i know when i'm done, and tonight, i wasn't done. he should've let me finish."

you sit down next to him, close enough that your knees are touching, and you can feel the lingering annoyance vibrating off of him. you let him stew in it for a moment, knowing that sometimes he just needs a bit of space before he's ready to really hear you.

"i get it, babe," you say after a while, your voice steady, even though you know what you're about to say might not be what he wants to hear. "but you can't let it get to you like this. you're the vice captain, trent. you have to keep it together, especially out there, in front of everyone."

he looks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly like he wants to argue, but there's something in your tone that makes him pause. you've always been able to get through to him, even when he's too caught up in his own head. it's one of the reasons why you work so well together, why he values your opinion so much.

"i know," he mutters, dropping his head back against the couch, his eyes closing as he exhales a long, slow breath. "i just hate it. i hate not being out there, not being able to do more."

you nod, understanding where he's coming from, but also knowing that sometimes, stepping back is just as important as stepping up. "i know you do. but you have to trust the process. trust that the coach knows what's best for the team, for you. and you can't let your emotions get the better of you, especially not on the field."

he's silent for a moment, his brows furrowed as he processes what you're saying. you can see the internal struggle on his face, the way he's wrestling with his frustration and the logic you're laying out in front of him. it's never easy, getting him to see things from a different perspective when he's in a mood like this, but you know he'll come around. he always does.

"yeah, you're right," he says finally, his voice softer now, the edge of anger starting to fade. "i just... i don't know. it just got to me tonight."

"that's okay," you say, reaching over to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "you're allowed to feel how you feel. but just remember who you are, trent. you're a leader, and you need to act like one, even when things don't go your way."

he opens his eyes then, turning his head to look at you, and there's something in his gaze that makes your heart swell. it's gratitude, appreciation, maybe even a little bit of awe, like he can't believe how well you know him, how you always seem to know exactly what to say.

"what would i do without you, huh?" he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the first sign of the frustration starting to truly melt away.

you smile back, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "you'd be fine. just a little more annoyed, maybe."

he chuckles at that, the sound low and warm, and you can feel some of the tension leaving his body as he relaxes into the couch, his hand still holding onto yours.

"i'm sorry," he says after a moment. "i didn't mean to come in here all pissed off like that. i just..."

"it's okay," you interrupt, squeezing his hand again. "i know it wasn't about me. and i know how much this means to you. but you've got to remember that it's not just about tonight. it's about the long game, about being fit for when you're really needed."

he nods, his expression thoughtful as he takes in your words. "yeah, you're right. i just need to get out of my own head sometimes."

"and that's why i'm here," you say, your tone light, but there's a seriousness in your eyes that he doesn't miss. "to remind you of that, to keep you grounded."

he smiles at that, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. "you're amazing, you know that?"

"i try," you tease, nudging him playfully with your shoulder, and he laughs, the sound warming your chest.

the rest of the evening is quieter, the tension from earlier disappearing as you both settle into the comfort of each other's company. you talk about other things, lighter things, the issues of the game left behind.

it's these moments that you treasure the most, the quiet after the storm, when it's just the two of you, no distractions, no pressures. and as you curl up next to him, his arm draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing absent-minded patterns on your arm, you know that this is where you're both meant to be.

together, dealing with the highs and lows, the wins and losses, the frustrations and joys that come with life, with love, with being there for each other, no matter what.

[kairawrites]

KAIRA WRITES - MASTERLIST

please note I write with a black reader in mind, but everyone is welcome to read! I am always open to requests, for different characters & celebrities, don't be shy. thanks for reading ❤️

alexander-arnold.

old habits.

bellingham.

first match. | part ii

shea butter.

hamilton.

enemy lines.

off track. 18+

sweet escape.

tchouméni.

love & basketball

teller.

calypso. 18+

[luckycrystal]

meet the family || Trent Alexander-Arnold x reader

Summary:

Reader and Trent have been dating for a while, her dad is a fan of Liverpool, her brother is an arsenal fan and her father does not generally take the news of them dating in a good light because of rumours of him leaving, chaos ensues. Reader is a social media creator for Formula 1!

Pictures credited to their rightful owners on pinterest.

Reader had been dating Trent for up to six months. They had made a joint agreement not to air their relationship, she did not want to be known for being his girlfriend and he just wanted to date in peace, with only their close friends like Mo or Robbo knowing.

That's why it was a huge step for them to bring their parents into it.

His parents and family at large were very accepting of you. They immediately brought you into their herd and treated you like you had always been one of them.

You had expected that your family being Liverpool fans, would be more excited to receive Trent. Oh, were you so wrong.

It did not help that Trent had nerves and his worry. You even saw the flower garden he had brought at the back of the car while you were driving yourselves there.

"what's up with the flowers?" You questioned trying to bring his mind out from the gutters. "you thinking of starting a flower business?".

He raised an eyebrow. "relax, it was just two I ordered, one for your dad, and your mom".

You took a look at the backseat. "more like twenty".

Trent also turns around, "shit," he exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me?".

You laughed. "I am telling you" then you use your hand to drag his face to face you, "calm down, my fam isn't going to eat it".

"you don't know that". He tells you.

"I like you a lot" you tell him. "even if they don't, I'd still date you, so calm down, not that they won't, but you don't have to be nervous like this".

He takes some time before he replied. "You might still like me. But I'm not made for forbidden relationships, because I can't marry you if I don't take your dad's permission, it's the rule you know?".

Y/n rolls her eyes as they park at her doorstep, Trent ends up taking three flowers, when the door opened, your dad rushed to hug you, while your mother hugged him, she handed him the flower, your younger brother who was ten years collected the next one, and your dad just stared at the flower.

Y/n collected the flower and forced him to hold it. "Dad" She said in a warning tone.

They all move to the dining room. Your mother is more brighter than everyone else, "I know you must be tired" she smiles, "your dad and I prepared some refreshments".

Y/n looks at Trent, his hands were shaking under the table. She grabs it and looks at him as of trying to calm him down.

He looks at her smiling.

Though, they both knew it to be fake.

Her father on the other hand was staring at him like he had abandoned a cat in a dark alley. And he didn't even like cats.

"they look so delicious" Trent said looking at the eye watering meal.

Her mother's eyes sparkled. "Y/n told us basically nothing about you, not until well yesterday. She just dropped the bombshell on us all, I didn't have time to make something more grand, glad you like it".

Her brother fidgeted in his seat. "I honestly thought it was Saka or Saliba, but she mentioned Liverpool".

For the first time Trent looked relax. "What's wrong with Liverpool?". He smirks.

"that's what I'd like to know" your father added.

Yet again, Trent looked serious, Y/n gives her dad another warning look.

"I'm an arsenal fan" your brother suddenly asked.

"I could tell" Trent smiled, it looked more genuine than his previous ones.

" what gave me away?"

Trent laughed in a 'are you serious way?' but he indulged in him. "You are literally dressed head to toe in arsenal kit, that's a way of knowing someone's a fan, innit?".

Your brother shrugged. "Oh," he paused, looking sad. "Guess I'd never get that Declan Rice autograph I really wanted".

"I do play with him in national team" Trent said looking serious, but it was all pretend, you could tell as he pursed his lip trying very difficult not to laugh. "And I am a footballer, after all, I could pull some strings there...".

The conversation continued until your mother brought a refill of the orange juice.

"so, where did you meet?" She asked curiously.

"well, your daughter is working for Formula 1 media and I was going to watch a race and my favourite is Max Verstappen, so I was talking to him and she was trying to film content at the same time" He narrates using hand gestures, something he did when he was really into what he was trying to past across. "She got mad at me that she wanted to do her work and I kept disturbing her, and to apologize I offered to pay for her lunch".

"during the lunch, she started brawling her eyes and crying".

Y/n father asked. "Why? Want did you do?".

"Nothing," Trent sat up straight.

Your mother gives your dad a look which causes him to be more laid back. "Continue on with your story, dear".

"Turns out it was her birthday, none of her friends were at Spain at the time, due to it being a race weekend and all, and so far from home and she needed a friend to speak to" He shrugged. "I comforted her and ever since then we were communicating, texting and the lot".

"so you took advantage of my lonely daughter?" Your dad questioned.

"whenever he had an away match and it clicked with my race days, I'd go see him and sometimes he would go see me" She smiled. Her hold on his hands tightened, "he also introduced me to his friends, it was wholesome really and it didn't take long to start dating".

"your daughter was lonely" she tells her dad, "and Trent who you seem so hell on picking on filled that gap, not only did he do that, but he made sure she had a support system around her which is really important for me because of all the travelling, I can't keep friends for long but he changed my life literally, and he actually does like me".

"it's true" He admits. "I do love your daughter, very much".

You smile at his cheeky love confession.

"now, please tell me the reason you are acting out is not because Trent might be leaving to real madrid" She asks. "Tell me your care about your daughter more than a football club".

"what?" Trent asked startled.

Your dad becomes very quiet. "I will admit, I really love Liverpool and was upset that one of my current favourite players might be leaving" he says quietly. "But I should not have let it influence my personal thoughts on Trent".

Everyone holds their breath. "He also does not seem like such a bad guy, his eyes twinkle when he speaks of you, and he's incredibly charming, he has your mom refilling his cup and cooking all these dishes that she never cooks for me anymore, I guess I should be upset about that instead".

The table abrupts laughing.

"what I'm trying to say is that even though you were a racer, banker, astronaut, as long as you make my daughter happy, I would welcome you with open arms" He said placing a hand on Trent's shoulder. "Which I should have done actively from the beginning instead of sulking, but here goes, you are of course accepted here anyone that my daughter loves is".

"thank you" Trent says smiling.

You stare at your family. And you didn't know if you should cry or smile, it was truly perfect, sure with a rocky start but in the end events following, Trent had become closer to your dad than you even, all they did was talk about football with him whenever you brought him home, and your brother started watching Liverpool only to pick Virgil as his favourite. Your mother continued to dote on your boyfriend, you truly couldn't be happier.

The End.

[misamoresanfield]

Drenched in desire🤍 - Trent Alexander Arnold

Summary - You've been craving your boyfriend all day when he finally decides to give you what you want.

Warnings: Smut (18+)

-

You needed him. His sexy demeanour practically calling out to you. It wasn't like either of you had anything planned today anyway. Your mind was flooded with thoughts of him and his alluring mannerisms. How he would randomly kiss your neck. How he would move your hips so you could grind on his lap. How he would choke you lovingly. How he would pull your hair when he gave you backshots. He was perfect. Not even just his actions but just him. Your boyfriend was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. His dimples were a sight to see. His big brown boba eyes. Oh, they were gorgeous, especially with his long lashes which added to their beauty. His sharp jawline and big lips. Let's not even get started on his abs. Trent knew the affect he had on you and would use it to his advantage most of the time, especially today. He knew how horny you were as he had been teasing you all day.

"Baby." You wrapped your arms around his neck as you sat on his lap and gazed into his magnetic eyes. His hands instinctively held your waist. It was one of their favourite places to be.

"Yes, my love." He returned with a soft voice. That only gave you more butterflies, not helping the situation at all. That man was so good at getting you flustered.

"Please..I need you." You began kissing his neck, causing his eyes to close for a second and exhale with the sexiest sigh you had ever heard in your life. He wanted you, but he was going to keep toying with you for a little while longer. You were everything to him and it didn't take long for him to start feeling that tingling sensation in his lower stomach aswell. Your lips felt so good on his neck.

"Yeah, you need me?" You could tell he was smirking as he spoke. What you couldn't see was his eyes fluttering from the touch of your kisses and tongue. Naturally, your hips began to move in a back and forth motion, making him want you even more.

"Yes daddy." Your whispers caused his eyes to roll as your minty breath hit his skin. You were so sexy, he wanted to rip your clothes off and take you right there, but of course he was going to continue his little game.

"Mmmmm..no." He replied cheekily before you stopped what you were doing and looked into his eyes again. He was such a tease.

"Baby you've been doing this all day." You complained to him, noticing his cocky smirk as you wrapped your arms around his neck again.

"Doing what?" Trent knew exactly what you were talking about and found it sexy how clingy you were being. You needed his big cock inside of you and he needed your aching pussy.

"Teasing me." You didn't mean to show a slight frown but he could see it, only making him chuckle. Your boyfriend loved teasing you and getting you annoyed. It was practically his love language along with physical touch.

"What?" He continued giggling at your words. "No I haven't." His scouse accent was very apparent as he lied.

"Yes you have." You shot back with innocent eyes, but you were far from it. "Pressing against me, touching me, making out with me and pulling away, tryna get me horny on purpose. You're literally wearing grey sweatpants and you've been walking around shirtless all day."

"It's our house. I can walk around shirtless under our roof if I please gorgeous." His chuckling continued. He loved seeing you like this.

"Yeah but you know what you're doing." You pulled your arms away and crossed them as he began rubbing your thighs.

"I'm not doing anything." His hand were getting closer and closer to your pussy as he gazed into your eyes. You were only wearing panties and a thin white long sleeve shirt which meant it wouldn't be hard for him to take you.

"Please baby..." You begged, slowly grabbing his hand and placing it where you wanted it to be. However, he pulled his hand away when it reached, wanting to tease you a bit more. Before you could even think about saying anything, you got up, causing his eyes to follow you.

"Where you going?" You heard him say in the distance as you reached the bathroom. He did feel a bit bad as he was horny too and didn't want you to feel as though he didn't want you. He was head over heels for you and deeply in love.

You decided to take a shower, even though you had taken one this morning. You needed to calm your horniess and collect yourself. He was so annoying sometimes, but you loved him. As the water ran all over your body, you only had him on your mind. You needed him but if he wasn't going to reciprocate, you weren't going to continue. Yes, you were wet from the stream falling on you, but before that you were wet for him. It was obvious he knew what he was doing but you decided to leave him alone. If anything, you could always please yourself, however, he felt better. He knew exactly what to do when it came to your body. He knew where your soft spot was and would always hit your g-spot when you had sex. He was beyond any fantasy you could imagine. He was your fantasy at this point. You couldn't help but slide your hand down and begin rubbing your clit thinking about his cock and how it felt inside you. You were so desperate for his touch. Your finger caused you to let out little moans which you were sure he could hear but you didn't care anymore.

When you heard the bathroom door open, you immediately stopped touching yourself, making him feel kind of bad again but not so much as he had plans. The shower was see through but you turned away from him in annoyance. You listened to his movements and figured out that he was taking his sweatpants and boxers off, getting ready to join you in the shower. Even though you were irritated, it excited you immensely. He knew you were tired of his games and had enough so he was going to give you what you both wanted and needed. When he got in, his arms immediately hugged your waist as he moved your long afro hair to the side and began kissing your neck. He was rock hard already, most likely from hearing your moans.

"You like that?" He murmured against you, before he cupped your boobs and continued kissing your neck, wanting to leave a hickey.

"Yes daddy." You knew your place when it came to these moments. He liked getting on your nerves but he liked touching you even more. You rocked your head and arched your back when he slid his hand down and began playing with your clit, finishing off your job. Your moans were even louder than before. "Fuck.." He was still giving your tits attention with his other hand.

"You're so sexy my love." He let out, wanting to me you feel as good as possible. His fingers were enough to make you want to cum. You had nearly reached your high before he joined you, he was only adding to it. Aching to feel his lips on yours, you turned around to face him which he responded by gently pushing you onto the wall and pressing your lips together. Your lips moved in perfect unison, allowing your bodies to get more revved up. Your arms instantly wrapped around his neck again as he lifted your legs around his torso to pick you up. His pillow soft lips felt like heaven. He was finally giving you the attention you had been craving for all day. Trent was two things, an amazing boyfriend and excellent in bed. You really got the best of both worlds. It was always passionate with him as you could feel how much he loved you with his actions. When you made love, it was the best feeling you could ever imagine. To say the least, you both knew you were soulmates and it was very apparent when you had sex.

When you decided to spice things up again, you got on your knees, which made Trent smirk as he was ready for what you were about to do. Grabbing his big hard cock, you put it in your mouth and moved your head as you sucked him. As he watched you, he couldn't stop himself from releasing soft sighs and groans.

"Yes baby, just like that." It was evident that you were doing it just right for him. "Fuck.." Trent was on cloud nine. Carefully, he reached his hand down to your head so that he could help guide you even though you didn't need help. "Touch yourself while you suck my dick baby." You immediately did as you were told. Seeing you rub your pussy was the tip of the iceberg for him, causing him to roll his eyes back from pleasure. When he looked back down, your eyes connected, making him groan once more.

After a few minutes, Trent was close to reaching the finish line and showed you by gently lifting your head up. As you got up on your feet, he turned you around so that you were facing the glass and lined himself with your entrance, bending you over. You needed his dick even more than before.

"You ready baby?" He wanted to confirm that everything was alright before he put it in, even though he was sure you were okay.

"Yesss. Don't even think about teasing me. Just fuck me." You whined, making him release a sighing type of laugh. He needed you as much as you needed him.

He slowly slid his cock inside you, causing you to gasp. He felt so good it was insane. Without thinking about it, his hand choked your neck softly while his other hand was on your waist. You let out pornographic moans letting the man you loved take you in the shower. He started off slow before quickening his pace.

"This what you wanted all day?" Trent spoke as he pounded into you. He already knew the answer to his question as you had been waiting for his dick, not patiently. "Mmm?"

"Y-yes daddy.." You responded, reaching your arm back so that you could hold him which he reciprocated by holding your hand. You loved when he held your hand during sex. It felt so sweet in the erotic sessions you often had. You kept squeezing his hand but he didn't mind at all, only holding your hand tighter to let you know that he loved you. "Fuck.." This man was the best you had ever had and you felt so lucky to be able to call him your boyfriend. As he got deeper, he began to worry that he had hurt you when you got louder. "Trent...fuck."

"I got you baby, I got you." He let you know in a soft voice. He hadn't hurt you, he just felt heaven. Once he realised you were just in complete ecstasy, he continued pounding deeply into you. "Take this dick beautiful." And you did just that, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you did so. "You're so fucking perfect." You felt so loved and cared for. He truly was the best boyfriend. Yes, today he had been annoying, but that man would kill for you. He made you feel like a queen. "Yeah, let them out baby." He was referring to your moans as they had got even louder than before.

Time went by fast as you were getting closer and closer after a while, clenching your walls around his cock. He knew very much what that meant and made him even closer than he already was.

"D-daddy I..." You were trying so hard to speak but couldn't conjure up the brain power to do so. That sensation which built up in your lower stomach prevented you from saying what you wanted.

"Use your words for me princess." He told you, holding your hand tighter than before but not enough to hurt you. He couldn't even think straight himself.

"I-I'm..fuckk." Not being to do what you were told, you decided to give on trying to speak and focus on the pleasure your man was giving you.

"You're gonna cum baby, I know." Your walls clenched around his perfect cock more. Both of you were so close to reaching your orgasms. "Let it all out for me." Was the last thing he said before you released your juices all over his member. He came at the same time, which made it feel ten times better. "That was so good baby."

You both needed to calm your heavy breathing down before you actually showered and cleaned yourselves up after. He continued giving you the care you needed as he helped scrub your back and helped you comb through your hair as you washed it. The way he looked at you with love in his eyes, you already knew this was the man you were going to be with forever. He wouldn't want to be with anyone else but you.

The rest of the day you spent cuddled up in his arms, showing off that clinginess he liked. He felt so comfortable, you couldn't get enough of him. He was the one for you always and forever. The way he rubbed your back and gave you kisses sparked the usual butterflies in your stomach. Your arms wrapped around him had the same affect on him. You were both in complete bliss and total happiness. He was yours and you were his.

-

I'm sorry I haven't posted these in a while guys. I haven't really had the time to write as I've been busy and have been going to through things but I'm trying my best to get back on track. I don't know when my next post will be out, but it is being written right now🫶🏽.

Also, I'm almost finished with ETE 2 chapter 23 so hopefully it's out by Thursday🫣

Thank you for reading and I hope you guys enjoyed! 🤍🤍🤍

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Bro some creators will say interact but when we do half of yall ignore our asks so wtf is the point

Hi!

I understand where you're coming from, but it's important to remember that creators are not machines.

We don’t just churn out content on demand, 24/7, without rest. As much as we love writing and making art, we are human first.

We have lives, responsibilities, and sometimes an overwhelming number of messages to go through. It’s not as simple as sitting down and instantly producing something new every time someone asks for it. Creativity takes energy, time, and, sometimes, even the right headspace.

People often forget that consuming content is easy, but creating it is a completely different story. A 5,000-word story might take you 30 minutes to read, but for the person writing it? That could be days or even weeks of brainstorming, drafting, editing, and revising. And that’s assuming inspiration even comes easily. Some days, writing feels effortless. Other days, just putting together a single paragraph feels impossible.

And here’s the thing—most of us do this as a hobby. We don’t get paid for it. We write, draw, and create because we love it, not because we owe anyone content. The majority of us have jobs, classes, and real-life obligations that demand our time and energy. We’re already balancing so much, yet there’s this expectation that we should be constantly producing, constantly engaging, constantly available.

Engagement matters, but expecting instant responses—or assuming that being ignored is the same as being unappreciated—is unfair. The truth is, we see the messages. We appreciate them. But responding to every single one isn’t realistic or possible.

And when creators feel pressured or guilt-tripped, it drains the joy from creating. Instead of being something we love, it starts to feel like an obligation—a chore rather than an act of passion. It’s exhausting to feel like no matter how much effort we put in, it’s never enough.

Should someone who’s going through a rough time be expected to sacrifice their well-being just to post? Should we have to drop everything just to reply at the speed that’s expected? That’s not how it works.

So yes, interaction is important. But so is understanding that we are people, not content machines. Sometimes, we just need a break. That doesn’t mean we don’t care. It just means we’re human.

—Bianca 🌻

[ethereal555]

CHEETAH PT. 3

Virgil Van Dijk x black!reader

-----

January 24th 2025

7:54pm

The commotion Ameena and her best friend, Tamara Gomez were enduring to get into this Mayfair club was absurd. Tamara had been elbowed twice both times by men twice her size persisting to be let into the club before the plethora of women stood in heels shivering against the chill in the air. 

Men. 

The pair were starting to think this wasn’t worth it, slight scowls of discomfort on their faces. Ameena - adamant on not facing the bodily harm her friend was - held herself, both arms wrapped around her stomach. She too had faced the wrath of these desperate men, her toes specifically, being trampled on as if they were a basketball court. She couldn’t keep count of the amount of times she rolled her eyes in irritation within the 20 minute span of them waiting in the queue. Tamara’s fiance was in the club (and was an immediate gateway out of the queue of hell for them) but the poor connection outside the club meant she wasn’t able to maintain constant communication with him–and so they were stuck. She needed him to come outside, handpick the girls and run it by the bouncers who’d allow them through the VIP entrance. 

The occasion was to celebrate Liverpool’s 2025 Premier League victory, but it was already 8pm. The girl’s feared that the longer they waited in the queue the less time they would to celebrate with the champions - there was chatter within the ballers about a second destination tonight. Which had yet to be confirmed. Ameena acknowledged the thoughts of guilt in her mind, as they stood in their skimpy dresses withstanding the biting cold. The only reason Tamara was here in this position was because Ameena had insisted on them having a girl’s night - where she planned to give Tammy a long overdue and detailed life update which was fun while it lasted. They regretted it now, being stuck in the cold, goosebumps tainting the look of their effortlessly even skin. Tamara on the other hand, had insisted they had their sleepover at her mansion to make the trip here easier (by travelling here with Joe). It was clear that Tamara always knew best. 

Tamara frequently looked back towards Ameena's direction to see if she was holding up ok. She knew the emotional stakes of the night, being here to celebrate the victory of the man responsible for the seed in her belly, her trauma and her sleepless nights whilst being on bad terms with him. It was strange.

Everytime their eyes met Ameena would utter a small apology, followed by a wince to which Tamara would roll her eyes, reprimanding her viciously for thinking something was wrong, or that she was blaming her best friend inwardly for the situation at hand. She’d never regret spending time with her best friend, hell, yesterday Ameena told her the best news of her life–it had her frolicing around Ameena's house with joy. She was still buzzing from the news; although the cold blowing from the darkness in the winter’s sky was threatening this buzz.

 Soon enough, as time passed, and the queue shortened just slightly the looks of concern from Tamara became distant to Ameena, other-wordly, as her idle mind is proposed with a warmer experience to fawn over, an experience better than the one presently.

The chatter in the air dissipates surely as she zones into the images circulating in her mind and the voice she has an undeniable craving for. She hated to admit it but Virgil consumed her entire being even more so now that a part of him was growing inside her.  Every fibre of her being was Virigl’s, in every breath she took she could hear his name, in every scent she discovered she’d find his somehow, in every touch her skin felt there was a yearning for his touch. Yearning to feel the fiery sensations he caused her powerful enough invade her sensory organs and then set her ablaze- the splendor omnipotent. On every page she’d scroll on she’d see him. She was trapped, undoubtedly, and deep down subconsciously she didn’t want to be saved.

Her shivering stopped and mind transported her to the day that changed everything, hours before the reckoning.

“Get upstairs. Now…”

She remembers how she did so hastily, advancing up the stairs shamelessly flinging off every garment, every piece of clothing that clung onto her body. Discarding everything but her lace, black thong that dug into her most intimate of areas. Her heart raced– she could feel his gaze hot on her ass as she swayed her hips effortlessly. Ameena knew she had a slick mouth downstairs and he wasn’t going to spare her.

Exciting

 His progressing up the stairs was slower and more calculated, envisioning all the ways in which he’d fold her, flip her and watch her squirm under pressure. His presence is powerful nonetheless. She was burning with lust, she embodied sex as she laid down on her king sized bed, her elbows propping her naked torso up. Waiting and shaking with anticipating and salivating. Her toned legs propped up. She was like a present on the bed, waiting to be opened and for every last bit of her to be unravelled. 

As Virgil entered the dim room she swore there was fire in his eyes burning violently, once he looked at her. He stood at the foot of her bed, staring down at her small body watching intently her perky breasts rose and fell in tandem with her chest. Her nipples stood hard at attention, she was ready.

“You haven’t learned to listen to me? Not yet?” She shook her head teasingly, sucking on her bottom lip suggestively.

“Remove your panties, Ameena. I won’t ask you again baby” He ordered, her eyes flickering down at his print that had grown prominently and was threatening to burst out of his slacks.

She shakes her head again, this time raising her feet up and swaying her knees from side to side, she was intending for him to see her growing slick from her pussy and how it was starting to seep from her hole and collect between her ass cheeks. 

“No…You.” she dares. A daring twitch in her brows, she shimmies further down the bed using her elbows and dominates by hooking her legs around his groin. Ameena enjoys watching him crumble under her spell–she’s giddy although she hides it. She was no longer the meek 19 year old toy he could break and rebuild, after 3 years of intimacy she could put up a fight and he couldn't be mad she’d learned from the best.

Virgil hooks his warm hands under the hem of her panties, feeling the lace beneath his rough fingertips. He slowly peels the thin material down the thighs, watching as the now and damp sticky material left shiny streaks alongside her inner thighs. His nose simultaneously being engulfed by the signature scent of her arousal. She unhooked her legs from around him, flinging them off with her feet. No care in the world for when they landed, what she cared about was poking accusingly at her a few inches beneath his belly button.

She grips his zipper between her toes, urging him to remove his jeans and to fuck her.  She huffs agitated, her body becoming flustered at his lack of cooperation; he watched her struggle to maintain her lust. She couldn't help it, her pussy was growing a heartbeat. Wow, he was really trying her, testing her. Her toes press firmer against his piece, a smirk tugs at his lip in retaliation.

Emotion.. Close… she thinks.

He was proud of her efforts.

“Do something,” she purrs as tears leak from her eyes, desperately clawing at her hair with her quivering fingers. She'd befriended desperation and it seeped into her words now, she made them hard hitting with an underlying agenda. “Really Virgil? You can’t keep up? Tired already, grandpa–”

He sucked the air out of her lungs when he ,with one swift motion, turned her around onto all fours. Pressing her head into the mattress by the back of her neck, his teeth sunken into his lips.

He chuckles dryly.

“Arch it. Just like taught you, yes…yes” he encourages manipulating her body into position– the position that would have her regretting her words. He unbuttoned his jeans, single handedly, eager and tempted by how her spread sex glistened.

Ameena moans out of exposure, impatience manifesting in the silhouette as she twitches frequently, the sound of his bottoms hitting the floor was music to her ears. The man’s oozing wet tip began to dance between her folds glazing over the area she needed it the most.

“Come onnn V” she whines rocking backwards and forwards trying to use her momentum to fuck him herself.  Her whines are music to his ears, the beat to his drum that prompts him to ram into her. Sucking in huge breath, she tries to relax her pussy; she needed to feel every inch and every vein that textured his missile.

Her eyes squeeze shut, her body propelling forwards from his blunt force, 

“mmmmmahhhh fuckkk” 

Her body jolted forwards in an ungodly pace, the sound of sweaty skin slapping echoed against each of the four corners of the room. The stretch on her vagina painfully exhilarating. Any sentence she’d try to string together lost between the thrusts, falling from her mouth as a result of the blows. Virgil’s deep relentless strokes were pure ecstasy. Clouds of tears formed in her vision.

“Veee—I—I–”

She chews her duvet embracing his mean thrust swallowing the screams threatening to rip out of her throat. The man brutally fucking her is amused,

 “What— you’re quiet now? You can't take it? Where is all the– shit –you were talking Meme?”, even his breaths are jagged. It was taking everything in him to not succumb around her tightness.

Her restless fingers tried to find support from the silk comforter beneath them to grab, pull, rip and squeeze needing an outlet for this intensity  but the perspiration from every pore in her body made that hard, causing her fingers to glide off of the slippery silk duvets. Instead her fingers find her engorged pulsing clit applying pressure in circular motion chasing her climax. She was getting there, beads of sweat accumulating on her forehead.

Her whimpers are an inadequate answer for him so he slaps her ass. Hard. 

“Fuck me back, you’re a big girl now, come on” He lets go of her hips and for a split second her hips stay indented with the shape of his hands. He found pleasure in watching her ass jolt backwards, her swollen, outstretched pussy swallowing all of his girth and length. He spat, watching his salvia string down and disappear between her folds.

“Shit.”, he groans at the visuals, tilting his head to the side, his loose curls hanging over his face in the process, watching intently as she struggles to take this dick, the struggle growing every second. Her breaths audibly start to quicken, her left buttcheek clenched as a knot in her stomach was starting to form and take over her sensations.. Her limbs shook violently and he eyes squeezed shut.

“Gosh Vee!!”, she pushed away from him.

“Uh, uh.” he follows her, she’d squabbled over to the headboard, his dick falling out with a distinct popping sound, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“V—it's too much, i-i-t hurts too good.”, she pants waving her arms in finality, he doesn’t care and wasn’t the type to falter over puppy eyes. She’d been bold lately and deserved a good fucking he believed.

He climbs onto the bed, following her his piece still standing at full attention. She was naive to think he’d stop without a nut. Neither of them had finished yet. 

“What did you say to me downstairs, Meme?”, his voice soft, his hands found his dick pumping it.

“ That—you could do me however you want…” her voice is small as she admits this, distracted by his hand motions. It was such a vicious cycle with her. The talking shit just to get him angry and then not being able to live up to her words in the bedroom…

“Right, so lay down. Flat, and let me do you how I want, ok?”

 Her eyes leave his dick and shift up to his low eyes, there was no room for argument in them. A soft exhale leaves her swollen lips.Her breasts press flat against the sheets, her chin embedded into her pillows. She spreads her ass cheeks for him, just as he liked, raising her hips up only slightly to give him an easier access. His slim build body resumed a plank stance above her, his fists planted on either side of her face holding himself up. He enters her swiftly. He places tender kisses all over her cheeks, forehead and shoulders. She knows to relish the small acts of affection before she resumes his powerful thrusts.

He hitched his left up allowing himself to dig infinitely deeper. Nothing less of  pornographic shrill rips from Ameena. Saliva drools from her mouth when she feels it happen again, the familiar knot making itself known deep in her core. She flicks and grinds against her engorged clit, rolling her eyes dangerously far allowingn the sensation wash over her entirely.

“Aaaaaaughhh”, she gasps incredulously, amidst the cacophony that was Virgil’s increasingly loud grunts, he was close too.

 The big wave of euphoria crashes suddenly and overwhelms her body. She can't speak or string together any dialogue. Once her juices started to squirt out of her she tries to pry him out of her but the man is insistent and proceeds to fuck her through her orgasms. He found great joy in watching Ameena’s body shake uncontrollably beneath him and he overstimulates her. The sound of her screams were drowned out by the wet frequent splashing sounds Virigl’s balls were making against her clit. That alone could make him finish.

“Yeah, be a good girl and take it all for daddy. You wanna make daddy cum? You wanna have my babies, remember?”

“Huh, Ameena?”

“Ameena!”

She jolts awake from her daydream of the night that changed everything for her. Tammy, tugging at her arms, pulled Ameena through the line of impatient bodies, finding Joe who was at the entrance to the club stood by the bouncer pointing the pair out. Finally. They ignored the stale-faced individuals in the lines muttering amongst themselves complaints about ‘pushing in’ and pointed looks from craggy faced women.

“You were in your own world weren’t you?’ Tamara observes, care underlying in her tone.

Ameena nods, dazzled “It was so vivid.”

“It happens to a lot of women, really vivid dreams or nightmares. Was it about him again”

She chuckles sheepishly, the look in her eyes signalling for Tamara to not pry any further.

Tamara and Ameena stroll hand in hand into Tape London. The club had an infectious high vibe that the ladies were able to embrace. The smell of expensive colognes hung low in the air, alongside a twang of sweat. The vibe skyrockets as the DJ yells for more energy in an attempt to rile up the impressionable tipsy bodies. The friends cling closer to each other as they move further into the club, following Joe who led them to their sections through the dense, unruly crowd. The music vibrated through everybody in this club, it was loud and hypnotic, just right for Ameena who was desperately trying to find a form of escapism. She could feel the 808z reverberating against her skin as they progressed, the sounds flirting with her eardrums. The initial adrenaline spike once in the club was sustaining itself. She was grateful for this as there were no recreational drugs or chemicals she could use.

The trio allow the blue and red L.E.D lights, reflecting off of foreign faces to guide them, until they finally arrive at the most popular section.

It was a full circle moment, and that realisation had brought her back down to earth amidst all the chaos. The last time Ameena and Tamara had been to this club it was 3 years ago when she’d first met Virgil, the genesis of their whirlwind of a connection. It felt like an out of body experience to be here, but without him, under very similar circumstances that they came for before. Little had changed around this venue.

But, Ameena for the first time felt a comforting sense of security being around her people. She was grateful for Tamara, her most thoughtful friend, for bringing out of her slump.

 The pair went to the same secondary school, but were in different year groups (Tamara was older by two years). They constantly joked about being soulmates because of this…it was unusual that different year groups in school would talk let alone develop close friendship. But they did, they bonded at a dance club where they practiced street and hip hop styles of dance– and later went on to do pole dancing together in 2022. This friendship eventually flourished outside of extra curricular activities and they’d find that going out together, partying, dressing up was their favourite pastime. Then Tamara would invite Ameena alongside her to watch Joe (who Tamara met when she was 15). This connection inevitably led Ameena towards the Liverpool team’s social circle where she eventually mingled and started constant communication with Virgil.

We’re not thinking about that nigga, behave!

She smiled at the men scattered all over their section and engaged in a tight loving embrace with Joe. He knew of her situation and the warmth he emitted acknowledged that. He pulled away from her, looking her up and down feigning shock, which caused Tamara to laugh as Ameena shrugged sheepishly. He kissed her forehead, reassuring her that whatever she needed they’d be there to support. She appreciated his brotherly affection.

Ameena, was always one to go full out, it was what drew the calibre of men she usually fucked with towards her. She wore a Forest Green crochet one piece dress from Fashion Nova, which had a flattering cut just below her boob and at the start of her stomach. It accentuated the start of her small bump which was growing slowly but surely. Although she could see the progress her stomach made weekly, she was still complimented on how tiny her waist is. Exactly! Just because she was a mother didn’t mean she had to start wearing modest clothing or refraining from having fun. She was convinced she’d be a sexy ass mum. Continuing on the green theme Ameena chose to style the outfit with a Green leather Chanel bag Virgil had gotten her on her 20th birthday. She finished her outfit with a pair of green heels. Her neckline, ankles and wrists were adorned with Van Cleef & Arpels Malachite and Diamond motif bracelets, which this time weren’t presents from him but rather a courtesy of the 50k month allowance that she was still on, despite their “break-up”.

Prior to this outing, Tamara had asked Joe to confirm Virgil's appearance. He wasn’t coming, it was something to do with family Joe had said. This put Ameena's mind at ease. She wanted nothing to do with him after that phone call last month; to smell his scent, to hear his voice, to be in his presence alone would trigger Ameena or tempt her into doing something she wasn’t proud of (seriously, this is just a testament to how he made her feel that day..they hadn’t seen each other since and today wasn’t the day for Ameena). He’d really destroyed her mentally these past few months. First, his borderline assault on her throat that left her shaken and then catching him in the act of promiscuity with women who looked and sounded nothing like her.

 She was done with him, oh yes. And ready to have her own fun, irregardless of the child growing in her stomach. Ameena promised herself that no matter what circumstance she’d find herself in,  she would live her life to the fullest, a baby wasn’t going to stop that. Intrusive thoughts would often make it known to Ameena that it was Virgil’s plan to trap her with a baby to stop all the reckless fun she was allowed to have at her young Agee, he wanted her tied down just for him; well poor him because he had the wrong one.  She had no excuse but to have the time of her life , and if that’s going to the club high on life, spending the money Virgil had been direct debiting to her account for 3 years now –a whopping 50k– then she’d do it. 

In their section bottles were popping, shisha vapour of all flavours flowed through the air. The bodies in their section were close knit, Tamara and Ameena were hip to hip swaying their bodies to Charm By Rema. In girly fashion, the besties hand’s found each other as they whined lower and lower singing wholeheartedly to the lyrics. Their bodies buzzed with confidence and the sweetness of girlhood. 

Ameena, in a world far from reality, continued to move her body sensually to the song, watching as Joe and Tamara danced as a couple. She held her hand to her stomach, her eyes closed as she felt the lyrics sedate her whole being. There was something about being in a club that made the intensity of music so much greater. She was buzzing. It was crazy what Virgil had done to her. She was at the club, looking as gorgeous as ever surrounded by millionaires she knew she could take advantage of and yet her mind dwelled with him. Ameena was Nigerian and so afrobeats was a staple in her upbringing, her culture and although Virgil wasn’t African he was a huge fan of afrobeats. They bonded over this. So hearing this song, at this club, at this time of her life made her feel..…empty. Her heart clenched at their memories; they’d listen to this song in the car on their way back from a low-profile restaurant in Oxford, Rema’s passionate lyrics entangled with Ameena’s laboured breaths as he’d finger ruthlessly her all the way home. Or when she’d make them both breakfast after a long night, with this song blasting through her Beats Pill in her kitchen. Or when they’d loved to make this song in her bathtub. 

She was yearning for an escape, or rather she needed Virgil’s presence in her mind to. Shit, she was in trouble, if she didn't get out of this hump it would ruin her night. Opting for alcohol or weed however would’ve been great if she was without a child. They were her go-tos to confront unwanted thoughts. Maybe she needed another adrenaline spike to help distract her. 

The best drug...

3rd of July 2022.

Their second meeting.

In the backseat of Virgil’s Mercedes he had Ameena where he wanted her. Ameena laid down in his presence as naked as the day she was born, her legs spread in the butterfly position, he sat at the end of her spread legs, admiring her vagina intensely. He wanted to know it like the back of his hand.

The scratchy radio in the background on low, not very fitting for the ambience. 

Capital FM to be specific.

The older man was intoxicated by the scent drifting to his nostrils from her fragrant sex. He’d smelt light and brief wafts all day as she’d crossed and uncrossed her leg several times in the humid car, the scent travelling right up his nostrils. At the lowkey restaurant they’d just come back from in Camden where she sat on his lap, purposefully hiking her skirt up so he could feel and smell her heat on his bare thighs.

��He could no longer take it. Her scent was his kryptonite. She was his kryptonite.

“No panties again princess. I fucking knew it. Are you trying to be the death of me?”he growls in her ear, nibbling at them.

  She looks him up and down absent-mindedly not quite grasping what he said,

(The manly hair peppered around his chest happy trail made her pussy thump and that was where her attention was at. She was with a real man now, she gloated, she knew her plan would work she’d teased him all day).

She giggled innocently, in awe of his body, her mind racing already with all the possible unorthodox actions he’d perform on her.

“Do that again, please daddy”, he leans down to her ears again this time tugging them rougher, licking a stripe trailing from her earlobe to he neck. He wanted to ruin her body, just for himself, so that no other man could make her feel anything remotely close to pleasure.

Break her, a voice whispered over and over.

He gripped her wrists in place above her head with his left hand looking down at her in a way in which a predator would with its prey. Her eyes are large with hunger, lust. She squealed as his right extremities inch towards her warm, pulsating hole. Ameena’s legs were spread and numb now just waiting for him. She mewled as his warm mouth engulfed her perky breasts, swerling, tugging and biting at her nipple. Her stomach flipped instantly gripping onto this hair scratching at his scalp.

He groans when her tits make a popping sound as he removes her breasts from his mouth, his saliva stringing from her breasts. She bucks her hips desperately, her pussy aching to be explored. She was sure her mind and muscle connection had turned her pussy from a tight one to a slight agape one with all the neediness.

“Virgil, I need—your fingers daddy, fuck.”

“Give me!!” she cries, in brat spirit. 

Their eyes meet, his still ones with her uneasy ones. She squirmed underneath his gaze. His right fingers trace inside her folds, coating themselves in her honey, teasingly and half heartedly dipping themselves into her greedy, moist hole. 

“Tell me you need me, and I’ll fuck you with my fingers, just like you want.”

She tries not to crumble beneath him, as her hips start bucking desperately into his long, thick fingers. The quiet sounds of moisture rilling her to continue to fuck herself with his fingers, it wasn’t fufilling though not without his efforts. He was trying to drive her crazy and she was sure of it, he was being selfish with his fingers. As second past, with Ameena bucking towards his stationary fingers she becomes flustered.

“Virgil baby, why are you treating me like thi—---ughhh I hate you sometimes” her vagina contracting viciously, she was so desperate. Had he taken her this far sexually just to leave her high and dry…well not dry, but wet..as fuck.

“Tell. Me. You. Need. Me.” She’s silent, mourning her impending orgasm. She wasn’t saying that ,not yet, it was like selling her soul, he was already crazy enough telling him something of such depth would turn him psycho.

He nods, tucking a braid behind her ear “You leave me with no choice but to give you a reason to be quiet meijn liefje.” 

His soggy fingers travel up her body, treading against her groin, up her belly, past her collarbone and breaking through the barrier of her mouth. Her tongue and his fingers danced ferociously, competitively. The familiar taste of herself in her mouth mixed with his natural taste elicited something dangerous in Ameena.

His left hand moves from restraining her wrists to stroke her cheeks damp cheeks. Her gag reflex causes tears to pool in her eyes. He lovingly removes the stray eyelashes from her face, enjoying the vulnerable look in her eyes. From her furrowed eyebrows to her pinched nose the expression written of her face was of terror and yet excitment at the same damn time.

He, a rich footballer, was going to use her as his own. Finally. None of the boy’s back at school thought she was worthy enough to be taught, to be stretched, slapped, choked. But Virgil did.

More, fast falling tears well in her eyes as she swallows back gags and attempts to take his fingers as far back in her throat.

“Taste my fingers, Meme, don’t you think of stopping anytime soon. Suck them dry baby, that’s it. Like that, just like that” She moans pronographically to his words.

She was going to make him proud.

Oh yeah, Ameena needed to find a distraction. Immediately/ She peered around her vicinity, praying internally to find the right non alcoholic release.

 A man.  

With feline spirit, her ears perk up and her brown eyes fixate on an option. A light skinned man, a built physique poking outline on his shirt with long hair. Just her type. She sniggers at this. She tried to make out his face to its full extent in the poorly lit space, but it was futile. She moved towards him, gaining better sight.The red and blue L.E.D lights casted from the DJ booth, did a good job with enhancing the sharpness of facial features in this club because in this light everyone looked good, including the mysterious man she was preying on. She kindly pushed her way through the tall bodies in her section who were tainting her vision of this mysterious man. Ameena progressed forward sensually ignoring the stares directed her way, she didn't want them. To her advantage, he was idle, engrossed in his phone, the lights from his phone illuminating his face. 

Oooo. He’s cute. Yes, yes!!! Ok now I just need to do my thing.

She mustered up her audaciousness, the spirit was still in her but was put at bay since she’d not versed with the male species in some time. And rightfully so, they were a lot. She sat right next to him, her body language inviting, tempting. She pressed her twins together, leaning forwards to lure his attention. She left no space between herself and the man, her knees knocking into his spread ones. His left knee (the one she was knocking a little) bounced up and down. He chewed at his wet lips, captivated by whatever was on his phone (by the sounds of it, it was footage from a football game with lots of yelling), revealing his really white teeth. Veneers? Ok he’s got money.  The man wore a basic white Air Force Ones, and a sleeveless white tank top that hung loosely around his torso. His bottoms, although she couldn’t tell because of the lighting, looked either white or dark grey. The outfit wasn’t extravagant or anything, but he still pulled it off well.

+10 points

Boldly, she picked at one of his dreads, twisting them between her red stiletto nails. Dreads were sexy to her. The dreadhead picks his head up slowly from his phone, her overpowering floral and musky scent hypnotic. Expensive. He turns to face her with a panty-dropping smirk on his handsome face. She instinctively arched her back towards him with a weak smile unable to gauge whether he knew of her or not. She wasn’t sure which of his teammates knew of her and Virgil. So far, only Joe. Great.

Ameena definitely recognized this man sitting in front of her looking as tantalizing as ever, but couldn’t put a name on him.

“I like your hair”, she whispers softly against his ears, not wanting any of her flirtatious advances to be overpowered by the loud music.

He chuckles.

The fervour of tension between them had been ignited with their arousing gazes. Ameena’s tempting eyes flicker to his wet plump lips, and his eyes avert to her thick, spread thighs that he could feel clenching occasionally. Spread, like nutella, awaiting his tongue’s invasion. His large, coarse hands move to caress her warm thighs, a manifestation of his undivided attention. The man’s tongue darts out of his mouth, and wet the inner corner of his lips as his low yet beady eyes drop to her cleavage. She was elated, pregnancy had done her body good accentuating her breasts’ plumpness; they sat perky, even without a bra. 

“You like them?” she purrs, her voice dripping with sex, peering down to stare at them.

“Mmhmm, and I like you.” 

His demeanor was enticing but that scouse accent was something else. The juxtaposition of his mean, initially quite stand-offish demeanor and the softness in his voice was powerful enough to send electrical currents to her clitoris, she was thumping uncontrollable.

Why did men have this power over her? 

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Ameena” “Trent.” They shook hands, Ameena placed her dainty ones in his large ones. She squeezed his palm before asking..

“Can I ask you something Trent?” The tip of her tongue flirted with his name as she fluttered her lashes.

He nodded, tucking her silky body wave bundles behind her ears, his eyes boring into her attentively.

“I really like this song Trent and I wanna dance... please.”

“You want to dance for me sweet girl?” he scratches his goatee, a suggestive glint in his eye.

“On you.” she corrects shyly

“Why me, Ameena?’ he questions playfully as he tilts his head.

“Because you deserve it.”

 “And you’re sexy”. She tilts her head in the same direction. As if the heat between them wasn’t already scolding she leans over, cradling his face with her soft palms. With her tongue she licks a bold wet stripe on his lower lip. It was pure impulse, no thought behind it. She followed the act by tugging at his lips with her teeth, giving him only a taste of what it’d be like to kiss her.

He reciprocates bu pulling her closer to him with a territorial grip on her curvaceous hips allowing her to teasingly assault his lips. His mouth watered at the sight of her green dress riding up as they conversed, tempting him more than thoughts could imagine.

“Up. Let’s dance Trent.”

She gets up before him out of breath, shimming the hem of her dress down extravagantly watching as her twins shaking caught the sparkle of his eye. Trent, mesmerized at the sight, discreetly adjusts his joggers plenty of explicit thoughts formulating in his mind. Her lips twitch excitedly. He was the only thing on her mind, the intensity of her lust quickening the pace of her heart. It was almost in time with the 808z blasting through the club. She missed this thrill and was all for it. 

He sits there, manspreading, his head hanging low with defeat.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” 

“Yeah. But I’ll make it up to you after you let me whine on you. I promise.” And with that promise, he jumps up. And they bump their way back into the heart of the club, Ameena’s back glued to his torso. The look on Tamara’s face was priceless, shocked at Trent’s embrace round her neck, and waist. The DJ, upon the arrival of new people, had decided to reload their favourite song. Courtesy of the Afrobeat mash up night.

See body o (see body, see body o)

Egba mi o (egba mi, egba mi o)

As the chorus comes along and the club sings the lyrics as passionately as ever, her body follows suit. Rhythmically pushing her hips back into his crotch as she bends forward. Her hands caress her breasts, looking back to see her rhythmic gyration run him wild. She is pleased whe they're eyes meet and his bottom lip hidden in his mouth.

Oh careful with that look, I might fuck you tonight, she thought.

His warm hands caress her waist, his mind in awe at how one could move so sensually and yet hold so much grace while doing so. He turns her around, so that they’re face to face drinking each other in her body still swaying to the music. Her hands guide him to her breasts for him to squeeze, he sucks in a deep breath. She was driving him crazy, so much so his head was pounding as was his junior. 

“Squeeze harder..” she whispers against his lips.

 E dey burst my bololo ( E dey burst my bololo)

Please, help me o

Come here, wetin dey worry you?

He’d never had a girl be this bold before, most of the girls he’d meet at clubs were the sneaky type. The type to let him defile them in secluded scenery, never this public. This was new and it exhilarated him.

“You– don’t wanna do this somewhere else..” 

She froze, just for a second before answering..

“No.. I want everyone to see how you play with my body. Can you do that for me?” 

He complies, doing as she had instructed. Relishing the soft tissue beneath his fingers. At the feeling of her tits in his palms his head darts down to the crook of her neck and he groans.

“What, handsome?”she drags her red nails slowly down his back, a feeling of victory washing over her still swaying side to side.

“This is going to be all over the inter—fuck it.”

He unapologetically starts to attack her neck with kisses and bites. A guttural groan is evoked from her, a testament to how long it had been since she’d experience a form of physical affection for. It felt heavenly. To be embraced publicly for the first time ever. He devours her, licking, biting, kissing and spitting on her tender areas slowly invading new territory, her collar bones. She shook and he noted she was... sensitive. He could only imagine her reaction if he were to kiss on another area. She squeals so more as he attacks faster,pressing the back on his neck deeper into her crook.

“Mmmmm, Trent.” He loved how his name rolled off of her tongue.

His rough hands moved down to squeeze her ass and slap it, not a care in the world for whoever could be looking, but he was sure there were many looking. Maybe it was the hormones that were making every sensation light years more pleasurable than she’d remembered but she didn’t question it. She embraced the thrill. Her mouth gaped open. She. Was. Over. The. Moon. It was the thrill of doing something or someone she wasn’t supposed to that always got her into trouble. It was just addicting.

Bring body make I rock yeah yeah

I know you senior me, 

I get money pass your baba

Wetin you want wey I no fit do for you.

“You taste like......God…Ameena…” He drools, pecking at her lips. She bites her lip to keep her from cheesing more than she needed too. 

You ain’t even tasted her yet. 

 “Can I taste you in the toilets?” she pleaded with her eyes. Her tone was strained with all the energy she was using to compose herself infront of all these eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows as a response, maybe he couldn’t hear so she spoke louder and clearer.

“I wanna suck you off in the toilets, and swallow your kids if you'll let me?” 

Her pussy thumped as her vulgar words and intentions flashed behind her eyes. She felt herself become wet at the way his body hugged her possessively after the words she uttered in his ear. There was a twinkle in his eyes that she was entranced by, one that made her feel he’d make her work for it. His dick. Her nut. And she was willing. She had nothing to lose. The way his teeth would habitually sink into his lip and leave a glossy cast left no room for imagination as to how his mouth would do her in the worst way.

She closed any space between them and rested her chin on his chest, her eyes angled up at him, and proceeded to hook her fingers onto the hem of his joggers slipping inside his warm territory effortlessly. She heard this nasal breathing become louder and louder as she fondled further and further down. Trent's grip on her ass tightened simultaneously. She bites on his shirt as she is stimulated by the feeling of his semi hard dick.

Oh, wow he’s ready.

“C’mon”, she traces her lips with the warm fingers she'd just palmed his with seductively before strutting through the crowd of bodies and towards the green and white exit markings, trusting he’d follow behind. She had him hypnotised.

She walks past Tamara with a little wink. Tamara knew exactly what that meant, it was commendable. Ameena was still able to pull top tier men at the end of the night whilst battling morning sickness in the same 24 hrs.

 Damn, she is one of a kind.

She checks to see if Trent was hot on her trail and to no suprise he was, his hands tucked into his pants tunnel visioned on her ass. They make a sharp left at the exit, elated to see the toilets down the hall. Once he’d finally caught up to her, they rushed to disabled toilet giggling all the way. They attempt to bust in, too full of lust to waste anytime but to their luck it was occupied, a red occupied sign at the bottom of the door’s knob.

Trent, impatient, backs her into the door, hoisting her up against his disabled door from her armpits, his veiny arms separating her thighs and moving her dress up to pull her panties down, already restarting the assault on her neck. She murmurs a weak no. She didn’t want to say no, but this was risky. The door they were leant against could open anytime, and plus she had class anyone could potentially walk up this corridor and see.. this. 

He’d felt on her damp opening, even more excited when he discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. Ameena moaned weakly, her hands circling his wrist reluctantly.

“We need somewhere—” Ameena started before being cut off by a familiar voice that yelled 

“Mena, Ameena. Where are you!!”

Ameena recognised the voice bellowing but was too distracted to follow, Trent’s rough forefingers still lingered in her most sensitive area compelling her to submit sinful things.

“Ameena!!! Fucking–where are you?” the voice echoes through the corridor louder this time. The progressive aggression in the familiar voice’s tone broke her out of the lust’s ruse.

It was her friend she’d soon realise when broken from the spell. In social settings they’d promised to stick together and comply with eacother’s demands for safety reasons. She weakly pulls Trent’s fingers from her drooling area, thanking God quietly no one had witnessed their nastiness. 

“I’m here—just— turn left” she fixed her dress and slapped Trent’s chest as he did the unthinkable– smelling his fingers trying to be discreet. 

“smells good—”

The footsteps sounded multiplied. She was still and encouraged Trent to be also as she tried to figure out what was going on using on her sense of sound.

“What?—Tamara you’re scaring the fuck out of me.”

Ameena turned around and was met with a flustered Tamara, who was mouthing something to her frantically. Ameena leant forward squinting attempting to understand what was being communicated.

“Toilets!” Tamra hissed after many failed attempts of communicating to her and Ameena followed suit. She couldn’t logically locate what was wrong, but she sensed her friend’s panic and turned around instantly wandering into the female toilets. She pursed her lips with a shrug at Trent before entering, who also looked as confused as ever.

Tamara tightly smiled, playing it cool, as Virgil and Joe finally caught up with her.

“You’re a fast walker baby....you okay?” She nods, catching her breath. Joe’s arm attempts to slither around Tamara’s body but she slaps his hand away. She was pissed that Joe had been an incompetent messenger, swearing up and down Virgil wasn’t going to make an appearance only for him to do so.

“We need to leave in 5, and the taxi’s been waiting. How long will she be?” Virgil pries an illegible look on his face and he looks towards the toilets. His jaw tensed as he saw Trent stood nearest to the toilets looking disheveled.  Tamara internally rolls her eyes at the overly possessive giant. She skips past the Liverpool teammates and bursts into the toilets.

"Let me check if she's even in there, you could be mistaken." she lies.

Bursting into the toilets she sinks, visibly when she’s face to face with her best friend. 

Tamara’s eyes are bombarded with the dark purple marks decorated all over Ameena’s neck trailing down to her exposed collar bone. She tried moving pieces of Ameena curls to cover them, but there was no use if the scars were too prominent. Ameena returns a look of confusion.  What is happening right now?

“Look at your fucking neck!! You actually fucked him?”

Ameena stares dumbly at Tamara for a split second. My neck?

 She runs to stand in front of the landscape mirrors furnished at the rear end of the bathroom and is stunned; she gasps, that vampire.

She hadn't though of that.

“Oh my days!—y-you know what it’s okay. I’m single. This isn’t that deep at all actually.I’ll be at home the next few days anyway so—”

“You fucked him?!” Tamara’s shrills desperately, following Ameena to the mirrors.. The situation wasn’t funny at all. But Ameena was finding humour in how flustered her friend was, and how unintentionally loud she was being less than 5 metres from where they left Trent. Tamara wiped some of Ameena's smudged lipsticks from her mouth.

“No!! He just-–tried to finger me. I didn’t let him. We kissed..kinda, sucked on each other, humped a bit.”

Tamara retreats in disbelief, her arms clasped on her head. She starts to speak then stops and then starts again. Her breath fell short.

“But… You’re pregnant–”

“Oh please Tamara... So? I’m not with the father. And! Do you not remember that slut ass shit he was just doing. So don’t give me that. I can do whoever and whatever the fuck I want.”

Ameena felt like vomiting just thinking back to that memory. What a prick, she berated in her hed. The availability of the pregnant woman’s breath shortened as she recalled the event, her limbs shake

Last Month

 December 20th 2024

21:40 pm

Ameena and Amaya, her younger sister, had just had a heart to heart sitting at the kitchen island in her home. The majority of lights throughout her house are off, the only light sources coming from several lit candles in the kitchen and from some that led up to the stairs. A prominent source of light came from Ameena’s Tv just across the kitchen, as it played lowly ‘Like a Tattoo’ by Sade.

The ambience was fitting for the Christmas.

 Every year, since their parents had died, the sister’s spent 3 weeks together either at Ameena’s or Amaya’s place. Ameena had been looking forward to being embraced by her sister’s love and also having some support during her first trimester of pregnancy. It was so hard dealing with the morning sickness alone, not having a connection with the baby yet, trying to forgive herself for the circumstances under which the baby was conceived, overthinking about what the world would think if this was to ever come out (it’s inevitable), thinking about 18 years later when her child would find out their dad had lived a double life- would her kid judge her? Being in this predicament alone without the father’s physical support, she felt dumb and angry about not being able to access him the way she needed to but what did she expect? He was married with four young kids. It was so draining for Ameena debating on whether to kill her ego by telling Virgil how much in this state of hers she needed him or to stand strong, not letting the man who had been the cause of many restless tear filled nights in again.

 She often thought of what her parents would think and the advice they’d give but it was often hard to think about that. She really hoped she wasn’t making the worst decision of her life by keeping this kid –she didn’t want it to be neglected or made a second option by it's father. The onus would be on her. Simple. 

“Ugh…” She released a rattled breath. Her mind was so frazzled if not for her sister she’d have gone crazy by now.

“I’m glad you have all these questions, and that you’re thinking about them all with such depth. Now—hear me out, you just need to tell him all this..” Amaya sat back on her chest, after dropping her bomb on wisdom.

“That's the thing Amaya, I have plenty of times but he turns a deaf ear to it or snaps at me.” Ameena drops her head in the palm of her hands, just agitated.

Amaya chews her lip tentatively before replying, “Man, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into, where do you find these men Meena?”

Ameena snorts sadly, shaking her head. “Honestly, Maya, the problem is the pregnancy. I shouldn’t have been so reckless and let him knock me up again.The first time, obviously, I aborted because we weren’t on good terms and that should’ve been the same logic for this one but this time– it feels so wrong to kill a child again because of the reckless decision I’ve made. I truly feel God’s teaching me a lesson.”

Amaya nods, sympathizing with her older sister. “I am grateful that I can financially support the child and myself for the rest of our lives but once it’s born I don't want it to emotionally, you know, suffer because of me. I love kids and I want to give the — my child the best life ever you know—.”

“Do you feel forced to have this one?.. Be honest.”

Ameena sinks in her seat, really grasping at an honest answer in her head whilst chewing on her lips “......Yes and no. I’ve told you about him threatening me right…That is something I think about a lot, him ruining my life if I go through with an abortion again because he has the power too. But that fear doesn't overpower all the love I want to share with my kid. I would’ve kept it the first time if me and him were stable. It's just—how do I put it? It’s just the unstable household trope I can’t bear to think about. Like us, it was hard not seeing dad a lot, especially at Parent’s Evenings at school, Sports day, Father’s day when all the other kids were treated like princesses by their fathers– it made us feel so unworthy.”

Amaya picks up on her sister’s vulnerability and hums in understanding, “I can see you feel passionately about this. You need to express this issue with him, text him, call him.. Whatever, just don't feel afraid to bring up our past because it’s your truth and an extremely valid point ok? I’m going to leave you to do what you need to do with this, I’ll be on the balcony.”

The sisters hug, Ameena engulfs her sister into a tight embrace, a symptom of her desperation for support and warmth in such a cold time in her life. 

Pathetic fallacy was real.

 The wind blew harshly against her glass windows around her dim kitchen and that’s when she realised she was left alone with her worries and mental exhaustion. She’d been feeling this wave of anxiety for so long and it matched the bleak weather outside lately.  It had finally overwhelmed all of her being, leaving her with nothing else to identify with but her fears. These fears had collectively backed her up into a corner, and now she was making a phone call to Virgil. 

He wouldn’t be expecting it, she thought. They hadn’t spoken since the day he’d left her. Ameena shivers to the core at the memory of that night, she’d vowed to never speak to him again but here she was.

The phone rang 6 times, by the seventh she became nervous. Usually, the phone would ring six times  before he’d answer especially during late week nights like these. He’d always say it was the time it took for him to run off to a secluded area to answer her call when he was with his family. She placed the phone down on the counter and on speaker, walking back and forth to practice what she’d eventually say to him. She hated the process of waiting and it made her stomach flip.

“Hey. Virgil. So—I’m pregnant.” No.

“We need to meet to be on the same page about everything– I’m preg.” No.

“Virgil, I just want to let you know I’m pregnant like you.. probably already guessed but I don’t want you around until we have a proper sit down convers—”

“Ameena…” a soothing voice called, causing her train of thought to crash.

Her heart leapt as she glided over to her phone to see if her ears were betraying her, they were not.

“Ameena, can you hear me?” the voice breathed.

One, two, three...GO

“I wanted to talk to you about something. Preferably at The Ritz, or at a hotel no less than 5 stars. Can you tell me the dates you are free to do so as soon as possible?”

Her phone vibrates as the man bearing the deep voice chuckles.

“I’ve missed how spoilt you are mijn liefje…and that pretty voice, fuck.” She’s silent, she doesn’t want to say anything remotely heartfelt. He didn't deserve it.. He hurt her, and she needed him to know life wasn’t going to be sweet until he made it up to her. Money and sweet nothing wasn’t going to resolve this issue. 

She merely hummed, and Virgil who had gauged her silence, understood it and followed up saying

“I know you’re very angry ; you haven’t replied to any of my texts or responded to any of my calls.”

“Virgil, I didn’t call to converse about old  bullshi–”

“Babygirl….”, the long pause after the nickname tickles her.

“I know you’re angry. I understand. But you still need to watch your mouth with me. I still pay all your bills, you understand?” he reprimanded slowly and softly.

“Virgil—”

“But yes, of course. Let's check my schedule, give me one second.”

The line goes silent for a bit, she assumes he is going to check on his work phone and so she stands at the island, her elbows planted on it and start chewing her nails fiercely. After a few minutes of silence, she is pulled out of her deep thoughts when hearing some ruckus from the otherside of the line. Trying to decipher what was going on she picked the phone up bringing the speaker to her ears. Multiple voices engaged in excited conversation;she initially thought it was his kids squealing. Until she started to hear dialogue –

“Where are you going V, we’re not finished!!” one high pitched voice squealed.

“Virgieee, come back to bed baby. Round 3! Round 3 daddy!!” Ameena’s eyes threatened to bulge out of her head as she listened closely, gripping to her phone for dear life.

“She’s using her rose in the tub Virgie, come see her squirt.”,  another annoying voice mewled.

“Listen! I’m on a phone call…”

Ameena’s mouth dropped as she clinged onto every word she could hear through the speakers. This nasty ass …Was this what he was up to? All while spamming her phone with messages talking about how much he missed her, how he couldn’t be without her, calling her on different numbers, sending gifts to her door— just begging for them to reunite.  This was the man?

In a fit of rage she decided to cut the phone, instinctively screaming for her sister to come downstairs. She rapidly types a myriad of messages to Virgil before turning her phone off, anticipating the string of messages and calls that would follow her verbal abuse.

You dumb fuck.

Hate you btw

  good for nothing piece of shit, you weren’t on mute you ugly cunt

Have fun fucking on those hoes, bc best believe u will never see me again!!!

Don’t cry when u see me doing the same.

The young woman falls to the ground, in agony.

....

There is silence in the bathroom as Tamara trips over her words, Ameena could tell she was nervous by the way Tamara’s eyes darted from her’s every time they made eye contact. Ameena, to put her friend at ease, consciously fixes her hair pulling her curly bundles to bedeck the side of her neck covered in bruises.

“I know, that's fair, it was crazy and you have every right to be fuming of course it just—-”

“What Tammy?” she soothed, “You’re scaring me..”

“He’s here Ameena—Virgil is here.”

….

Ameena giggles after taking approximately 30 seconds to absorb that information. It’s a nervous one, suddenly Tamara’s theatrics are understood. Her neck.. Trent…

“Ameena, he can’t see you with Arnold. After what he did last time, I don’t want your safety or well being jeopardized. I’m also thinking of the poor baby.”

Ameena gathers her thoughts, her friend had a point. She didn’t know how he would react especially whilst unaware about her pregnancy. She couldn’t leave with Trent, she was bummed because she wanted to get laid but she didn’t want to risk a possibly drunk Virgil overreacting publically and consequently exposing their 3 year old affair. She had to think of her mental health, and the turmoil that would follow.

Her thoughts are cut off when her phone pings, grabbing the frazzled girls’ attention.

 You have no fucking business being with all these grown men alone, especially my teammates?

 What tricks do you have underneath your sleeve Ameema?

   I'm giving you till 00:20 if you’re not out by then I’ll find you myself. 

“Tam—” she drags slowly, her eyes glued to the array of messages on her homescreen.

 How did he know she was here?

“It’s him”, she shoves her phone in Tamara’s direction whilst she paces, thinking of a solution. The best possible solution. 

Block him. No too risky, that would piss him off even more.

Tell him he’s delusional and that you're home. Gaslighting, hmm. Let’s give him a taste of his own medicine. But the specificity of his messages haunts her mind. He’s clearly got some evidence of her being here; the messages are too oddly specific. If she lies, and he finds her here, she’d be in big shit.

Or Ameena, just leave. It’s not worth the stress for you, for the baby for poor Tamara too. 

Her body stills, trying to find confirmation in her gut that this was the last and final choice. The pursuit of vengeance was still within her, she still wanted to make him bleed, cry, and sweat for her after hurting her in the way he did. But for this problem to unravel in public? No, she wasn’t ready for that. Ameena saw all the green eyed snakes disguised as women outside,and all the paparazzi outside waiting at the chance to slither their hands around Trent, or as a matter of fact, any of the team members in their section so if anything transpired between herself and the married Team Captain they’d be on a one stop train to ‘The Sun’ articles and Ameena knew better.

“Ok, so Tammy you need to get Trent, no, all of them OUT–”

“Ameena, they're not going to leave without you. You’ve got Trent freaking pussy whipped and not to mention Joe wouldn’t leave you here knowing you’re pregnant. And girl, the look on your baby daddy’s face is telling me he’s not leaving until he’s with you”

She’s exasperated at her current situation. An incessant question ringing in her ears. How did he know she was here, for God’s sake?

“Tell them there’s another door in here that leads outside—”

An earsplitting sounds travels through the ceramic interior of the bathroom, that left both girls (the only ones who were occupying it) at a loss for words. Ameena held on to her stomach instinctively and within a blink of an eye she was being dragged out. Both girls screamed, maintaining a shared look of horror until Ameena was dragged out of the toilets.

To be continued. PART 4 coming soon.