#trent seven x reader

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0!

It's happening people!

Next week I'm doing another seven days of requests so please feel free to spam my inbox 😄

I've already received a lot of Joško Gvardiol, which is amazing. But feel free to write any sort of requests. Like I said, I'm only picking seven of them!

Ciao!

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

Perfect Chance - Tyler Bate x Reader

Finally got around to finishing the Reader x Tyler Bate fic I had started a while back. 

Prompt: I’m sorry that somebody you loved made you think it was hard to love you

EDITED IN: TAG LIST @starwithaheart​ @shedevill22 @amourseculier @regalbanshee​ 

I do love my Big Strong Boi <3 

Y/N = Your Name Y/F/N = Your Full Name Y/P/N = Your Partial Name (for instance, i used Anna to write, so it was An-Anna)

Not sure if the perceived Relationships that he has had with Toni and Liv are true, but for this purpose we are saying yes. 

WARNINGS: Verbal Abuse (Brad Maddox is/was a jerk yall), Self-doubt, body conscious 

Austin mentioned = Creed; Ember, Tyler, Etore and Creed are friends I strive to have yall.

Let me know if you’d read a part 2!

(divider)

February 2017

First, it was all compliments and the unending love that I felt.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“You’re absolutely amazing, you know?”

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Then came the backhanded compliments…

“We’re perfect together.”

“You’ll never find another guy out there like me. Hah.”

“You’re really lucky to have landed me, you know?”

Then the compliments turned to criticisms.

“You should lose a few pounds… or twenty. Make you look better.”

“Your hair needs to be longer, get some extensions or something.”

“Show some more cleavage, would you? I want other guys knowing what I got.”

And the criticisms to pure insults.

“I don’t want you sitting on my lap—you’re fat!”

“God you’re ugly—put some more make up on or something!”

“What the hell did I ever see in you? You’re pathetic!”

The sucker punch came when I saw him kissing another girl backstage- one of the audio techs. It was the last straw, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Austin told me to move on, Tyler said I deserved better; Ember wanted to knock him out for me and Etore tried to get my mind off of it.

Off of him.

Of Brad.

The worst mistake of my life. The mistake that took up 15 months of my life. 15 months I’ll never get back.

The only thing is—how do you move on from something like that?

He made me feel loved and desired.

Then he made me feel unworthy of such affection. Made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be loved; that I didn’t deserve to be happy.

So here I am now, four months later. I had managed to get myself lost in work, to keep my mind occupied, but that only lasts for so long. Now? It’s February… February fourteenth. All I see are happy couples walking the halls of Full Sail, or in pictures on Instagram and twitter. Happy little ‘I love you’s and words of affection.

Sighing to myself, I shook my head and tried to focus on the outfit in front of me. Ember accidentally tore one of the seams on her outfit last week but hadn’t realized it until she wore it earlier on. Taking a deep breath, I stitched the small tear quick and easily, snipping off excess thread and then folding them neatly for my friend.

“Uhm, excuse me? Could—”

The sudden voice caused my heart-rate to skyrocket as I jumped in surprise, My hand went over my heart as I glanced behind me to find the owner to the voice—only for my once racing heart to freeze entirely.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, giving me a small smile.

“N-no, it’s alright. I just—I didn’t… Uh… Can I help you—with… something?” I asked awkwardly, tripping over my own words.

“I was hoping so. My last match, I noticed the seam was starting to unravel… on my trunks? Could you fix that? I’d really rather not be wrestling mid-match and them fall off.”

“That would be highly embarrassing,” I frowned, before nodding,” Yeah—I can do it. Er… sew it, real quick.”

“Thank you, here—let me grab them out of my bag real quick…”

“This isn’t fair…” I thought, sighing inwardly,” Cute… accent to die for… nice… Probably in a happy, caring relationship with some—”

“Here we go,” he smiled, handing the black trunks over to me; I felt my face heat up just slightly, but ignored the shiver than ran down my spine.

“Just… give me a moment… I can have these done real quick.”

“Not a problem, love. As long as I have them before my match.”

“Right…”

“Tyler—Tyler Bate.” He held out a hand, waiting patiently with that adorable smile on his face, causing my heart-rate to skyrocket again.

“Uh… Y/P/N—Y/N. Y/L/N. Y/F/N,” I replied, reaching out and shaking his hand.

JUNE 19th 2018

Almost a year and a half. 16 months to be exact. 16 months that Tyler Bate had been on my mind; that I had tried, and failed, multiple times to get him out of my mind. I tried focusing on work, on all the alterations I needed to make to active-roster outfits, fixes to any broken seams… but in doing so, all I heard was the work gossip that floated around endlessly.

“Did you see them together? They’re cute!”

“Right, Liv is interesting. Different that I’d imagine Bate be with.”

“Too pretty, kinda. I don’t know…”

“Maybe so. Out of left field though—just like that time he was with Toni.”

“Must have a thing for blondes.”

Without meaning to, my eyes floated to the strand of hair that was hanging in front of my face. The brown hair seemingly mocking me. Taking a deep breath, I tucked it behind an ear and attempted to keep the U.K superstar out of my thoughts. I knew it was going to be inevitable, running into Tyler today. Hunter had asked if Id be able to go to London for the next tournament show. It was a chance to visit the beautiful country, immerse myself in the rich culture—and torture myself with a secret crush.

So here I was, at Royal Albert Hall, assisting the UK Brand creative department with everyone’s outfits. Right now I was busy, extremely focused on the outfit in my hands. Not only did I have to focus on doing all the stitches correctly; I had to keep myself professional—ensure no mis-stiches. Why?

The jacket belonged to none other than—

“Hey, are you finished yet?”

My head jerked up in surprise and felt like my thoughts had been read—but the innocent slight smile on Toni’s face told me otherwise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“N-no… it’s—uh,” I felt myself stuttering,” Almost finished. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

“R-right. Thanks.”

I watched with bated breath as she walked away, not daring to take another breath of air until Toni Storm was no longer in sight. Shaking my head in attempts to clear it, I looked down to refocus on the small sequin I was hand stitching.

“Why’s he gotta like blondes?” I muttered under my breath with a small pout,” Nothin’ special about them.”

“Are you talking to yourself now, love?”

The sudden proximity of his voice, the fact he could—probably already did—know I was talking about Toni. About him.

I jumped out of my skin, the needle going straight through the fabric and into my skin.

“Dammit!” I cried, dropping everything to the desk and clutching my finger as the blood slowly began to pool.

“Bloody hell, I’m sorry love—here—” Tyler frowned, taking the towel from his shoulder and instantly putting it to my finger to stop the blood,” Oi—hey there! Grab a medic kit, will ya?” The passing backstage tech nodded before quickly walking off to find said kit.

“Did I get any blood on—” I panicked, reaching with my free hand for Toni’s jacket.

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll wash off if you did. Toni won’t mind, believe me.”

I had to choke back a scoff—of course he would know if she would mind. Suddenly my eyes landed once more on the towel, and I became hyper aware that he was holding my hand so delicately. Instinctively, I tried to pull it away, only for Tyler’s grip to slightly tighten, his gaze finding mine.

“You’ll be fine. Just a small pin prick,” Tyler smiled to me, as the tech came up to us with the kit and Tyler gave him a nod of thanks. I watched in silence, unable to even form a thought to voice; ever so gently, Tyler brought out a small alcohol wipe and after moving the white towel, dabbed at the bloody spot on my finger causing me to hiss and recoil instinctively. Again, his grip tightened, but not uncomfortably so, and he looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry love, had to clean it real quick.” With a silent nod, Tyler unpackaged the band-aid before gently wrapping it around my finger.

“There… all better,” Tyler smiled to me, causing a blush to cover my cheeks. In an attempt to hide it, I ducked my head.

“Now that you don’t have any pointy objects in your hand,” Tyler chuckled, turning his attention back to me,” How have you been Y/N? Good I hope?”

My head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise.

“Something wrong love?”

“N-no, no. Sorry… I just… I honestly didn’t think you’d remember my name. I mean… we only interacted for like… three minutes… over a year ago…”

“Well, yeah… but you’re a difficult woman to forget,” Tyler smiled and I felt my heart constrict.

“Y-yeah, I… I know…” Looking down, I began to pick at my shirt, my one hand grazing the side of my pant leg,”… Gotta loose some weight…”

“What? No- no, love—” Tyler shook his head, reaching out and gently grabbing my hands, holding both with his own; one hand traveled up my arm to cup my chin, raising my eyes to his own. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach go wild at the look of concern in his blue eyes.

“What makes you say something like that? You’re perfect—”

“Not perfect enough,” I mutter, my eyes flicker once more to the ground, only for the soft touch on my chin to lift my gaze once more.

“Whoever made you think that… They’re wrong. How they could even—” Tyler stopped short, shaking his head and took a deep breath, as if collecting himself. Looking into my eyes once more, I felt his fingers gently sweep a lock of hair behind my ear; Tyler seemed to be searching for the words to say, but what could be said?

“I-It’s fine, Tyler,” I shook my head, slowly pulling from his grip and taking a step back,” I’ve—I’ve accepted it… no one… no one will love me…” My voice grew softer and softer, until it broke at the very end. Taking a breath, I grabbed Toni’s jacket, careful of the needle hiding within somewhere. I busied myself with finishing stitching the sequin on, aware that Tyler was still standing behind me. As I finished the stitch, reaching for the next- Tyler’s hand slowly, gently reached with me, his hand landing on-top mine.

“Y/N… I…” Tyler started, before easing the jacket out of my grip and turning me back to face him. The look of pain, discomfort lacing his features,” I don’t know who… how—” He took a deep breath, composing himself again, before continuing,” I’m sorry that somebody you loved made you think it was hard to love you. You are… perfect— I wish you could see it. See what I see every time I look at you. I would call myself lucky if I had even a chance with you—I mean… maybe… maybe you could give me a chance to prove how perfect you are? Give me a chance to love you like you deserve?”

My heart dropped and I forgot how to breathe for a second. Did he just–?

“Are—are you… asking me out?”

“Rather, asking you to be my girlfriend,” Tyler smiled,” But I would like to take you do dinner, before you left back to the States.”

I could feel it—deep within my bones—the fight or flight instincts trying to kick in.

He’s just going to use you.

It’ll be just like with Brad.

Don’t trust him.

Then my eyes focused, looking straight into his baby blue eyes, and I knew.

I had to believe.

Believe in him.

Believe in the possibility—of happiness. Of love.

“Yes.”

I could see his whole body relax with my answer, a bigger smile crossing his face. It was only contagious though, as I too began to smile.

“If there’s time after the show, we can grab a bite to eat. I’ve got to finish getting ready for my match tonight.”

“Best of luck tonight, you and Trent. UE wont know what hit them,” I smiled, blushing as Tyler caressed my cheek; my heartbeat quickened as I saw him lean towards me, before I felt his lips on my other cheek. The mustache tickled a little, but the gesture, innocent and romantic all the same, caused another smile to cross my face.

This was the perfect chance for happiness. For love.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ darling, j. bellingham. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: your boyfriend jude has been nothing but sweet the entire time you've been together. who knew a number 10 jersey with his name on the back would affect him so much?

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lil fic for jude <3. partially inspired by the 3-0 win over greece, but if it happened at wembley instead. really tried with the brit slang, someone pls confirm if it's shirt instead of jersey lol. day seven of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, trent being trent, oral fixation (kinda), oral sex (69), american writing english people.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: jude bellingham x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.2k.

"You look stunning babes!" Tolami practically shrieked as your approached the cluster of WAGs, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The group of stylish women, all dressed to the nines in various shades of red and white to support the team, were huddled together, greeting each other after several months away at their partners' respective clubs. You had gone all out for today's match, your nails painted in the team's colors and your hair styled in perfectly poised waves that highlighted your cheekbones and the delicate gold hoops that danced against your neck.

"Thanks, love," you replied with a warm smile, giving your friend a quick hug. "I couldn't be caught looking anything less than leng next to you."

You glanced around the exclusive VIP area, your eyes scanning the pitch where the players were beginning their warm-ups. The electric atmosphere of the stadium was palpable, the throb of excitement pulsing through the air. The scent of freshly cut grass and the distant murmur of the crowd grew louder as you and Tolami took their seats.

During the match, your eyes never left Jude. His agility and precision on the pitch were mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride watching him command the midfield. Each time he looked up at your section, his gaze searching for yours, you felt a flutter in your stomach. When he scored the game's second goal with a powerful strike from just outside the box, the women erupted in cheers, and you were on your feet, your hands covering your mouth in shock and delight.

After the final whistle, the team huddled together, their faces a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The crowd's roar was deafening as the players began to make their way towards the tunnel, and your heart raced in anticipation. He raised his hand up, gesturing for you to wait, and you nodded, your cheeks heating up under the ooh's of the other girls.

Once the team had disappeared into the depths of the stadium, you made your way down to the VIP lounge. The thrill of victory still hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of sweat and the tang of energy drinks. You chatted idly with Tolami and Megan as you waited for the players to emerge from the locker room, your laughter echoing off the walls. When Jude finally appeared, Trent Alexander-Arnold by his side, your shoulder relaxed in relief.

"Y/N," the Liverpool man called out to you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "How's Jude holding up with that No Nut November bet? You keeping him honest, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a sigh at the juvenile banter that was a staple of the footballers' friendship. "Unfortunately, he's been a saint."

"It's only a matter of time before Trent gives up," Jude said, his own grin spreading as he approached the group of you. "Don't jinx it."

You playfully swiped at him, your eyes lighting up. "You know I believe in you."

Jude leaned down to kiss your cheek. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

As the two of you walked out of the stadium, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the heat of the game, Jude's hand found yours, his grip firm and possessive. The short drive to your flat seemed to take forever, the silence between you charged with unspoken thoughts. The streets of London were alive with fans, their cheers and chants a distant backdrop to your own private world.

Once inside, you slipped out of your shoes with a sigh of relief, and Jude's eyes followed your every move. He couldn't take his gaze off the England crest and his name emblazoned on the back of your shirt.

"You know, it's weird," he began, his voice a little rough. "Seeing you with my name on your back... it's like you're mine. Like, really mine."

You turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "Is that all it takes to make me yours?"

Jude took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "You know it's more than that, babe." He reached out, his fingers tracing the letters of his surname on the fabric of your shirt. "But seeing you wear this, supporting me with my name on your back, it just makes me want to show you off."

You felt a thrill run through you at his words. You stepped closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "What's stopping you, Bellingham?"

Jude didn't need any further encouragement. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you with a hunger that surprised you. His hands roamed over your body, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, the warmth of his skin melting through the cool material of the shirt. You stumbled into the bedroom, your kisses growing more urgent as you went.

You broke away, your breathing heavy, and looked at him with a glint of challenge in your eyes. "You know, if you want to keep that bet with Trent..."

Jude's smoldering gaze stuck to your face as he peeled the shirt over your head, revealing the lacy lingerie you had chosen just in case. "We don't have to tell him," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as his voice rumbled deliciously down your spine.

With a laugh that was half moan, you stepped away from him, slipping out of your jeans. "You're so full of it," you said, your voice breathless with excitement. "You can't just cheat your way out of a bet. What's the point?"

Jude's eyes never left yours as he shed his own clothes, his eyes dark with desire. "Who said anything about cheating?" he murmured, advancing on you with a predatory grace. "I'm just saying, a man's got needs, and you're looking too good. Who am I to resist what's mine?"

You felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine as Jude reached out, his fingertips tracing the edge of your bra. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, the air between the two of you crackling with sexual tension. "You're insatiable," you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

"Just for you," Jude said, his voice a gruff promise. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he kissed you again, deep and demanding. His touch was possessive, leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word. Your own hands roamed over his muscular chest, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

With a growl, he picked you up, carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing at all. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your body fitting against his like they were two pieces of a puzzle. The bedroom was a blur of movement as you tumbled onto the bed, the soft sheets contrasting with the hardness of his body. Jude's kisses grew more insistent, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as his hands moved to the clasp of your bra.

The sound of the fabric giving way was lost in your muffled moans. His thumbs grazed your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, your skin flushing with desire. "Jude," you gasped, your voice a whimper of need. He broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed chest with a look that seemed to blister your skin.

Without wasting a moment, Jude's mouth found your breasts, his teeth grazing the sensitive peaks before his tongue swirled around them. Your breath hitched, your fingernails digging into his back as the sensation washed over you. "Jude, more, please," you begged, your voice a throaty whisper. Jude's mouth continued its movements as he complied, his teeth tugging gently before his mouth closed around your nipple, suckling with a fervor that had your back arching off the bed.

Jude's hands roamed your body, his thumbs dipping into your waistband to tease the sensitive flesh just above your hips. Your hands weren't idle either, exploring the planes of his back, your nails scraping against the firm muscles as you pulled him closer.

With a sudden jolt of energy, you rolled the two of you over so you were on top, straddling him. "My turn," you whispered, your eyes sparkling with arousal. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw before you leaned down to kiss him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip before your tongue darted out to taste him. His hands moved to your hips, his grip tightening as you began to rock against him, feeling his length grow beneath you.

Jude's breath hitched as you kissed along his neck, your teeth scraping the sensitive skin just enough to make him shiver. He could feel the heat building between you two, the need growing more intense with every passing moment. "Serena," he groaned, his voice thick with want.

With a wicked smile, you slid off him, your eyes studying his face as you reached for his boxers. You took your time, enjoying the way his body reacted to your every touch. Finally, you pulled them down, revealing his hard length. You took him in your hand, stroking him gently, watching his reaction with a sense of power that thrilled you to the core.

Jude's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking upward as you touched him. "Fuck," he muttered, his hand coming up to cover yours, guiding your movements. "You're killing me, babe."

Your smile grew wider as you leaned into him, your breath hot against his skin. "Good things come to those who wait," you sang under your breath, your teeth grazing his earlobe. You kissed a trail down his chest, your tongue tracing the lines of his abs before finally reaching his cock. You took him into your mouth, the velvet heat of your lips wrapping around him, your tongue swirling in a way that made him groan.

His hands tangled in your hair as you took him deeper, your movements deliberate and teasing. He could feel the tension in his body winding tighter and tighter, the urge to push you down and fuck you senseless growing stronger with every passing second. "Babe, hold on," he ground out, his voice tight with restraint. "Sit on my face, 69. Wanna taste you."

With a light giggle, you complied, straddling his head. The scent of your arousal filled the room, making his mouth water as his tongue found your clit. You gasped, your movements faltering as you focused on the delicious sensation of his mouth on you. Your hand stroked him in time with his tongue, the sound of your moans mixing with the wetness of your desire.

Your body began to tense, your movements growing more frantic as you felt the orgasm building within you. Jude's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to devour you, his tongue flicking and swirling in a pattern that had you seeing stars. "Oh god," you whispered, your voice a hoarse plea.

Jude felt your thighs tighten around his head, your body shaking with the beginnings of climax. With a triumphant groan, he pushed his tongue deeper, feeling your muscles spasm as you came. Your hips rocked against his face, your tongue still working his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, and with a final, desperate stroke, he too reached the edge, his body tensing as he released into your mouth.

You sat up, swiping your tongue across your lips, a smug smile playing on your face as you turned to face your boyfriend. Jude all but whimpered as your mouth fell open to reveal you had swallowed him completely. With a giggle, you watched as Jude lay there, his chest heaving, his eyes closed in bliss.

"All this over a shirt?" you teased, your voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

"It's not just the shirt," he murmured, his eyes finally opening to meet yours. "It's knowing that you're mine, that you're supporting me in every way possible." He reached up, his fingers tracing the outline of your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "That I'm the one who gets to take you home after games like this."

The words sent a thrill through you, and you leaned down to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Jude's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his hands roaming over your body in a silent show of strength and possession.

Your bodies were slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in unison as you broke away, panting for air. Jude rolled you over again, his muscles flexing as he positioned himself above you, his cock still hard and demanding. "Round two?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr.

Your eyes widened, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of pleasure. "You're unbelievable," you whispered, but you didn't protest as he nudged your thighs apart. Jude's gaze was intense, his eyes dark with lust as he settled between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. You felt the heat of him, the promise of more pleasure, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

[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.

[foreverisntenough]

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Marshmallows*'

3.2k words | Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | Warning: Smut! MDNI

↳ You're watching a film in the cinema with your kids when your baby Tate asks for hot chocolate. Whilst looking for marshmallows in your pantry Trent joins you to help but more things happen than just finding the sweet.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

It was one of those perfect winter nights where everything felt wrapped in a blanket of warmth, despite the biting chill outside. The cinema was dimly lit, the only light coming from the glow of the television and the flickering flames from the fireplace. The cozy crackle of the fire added to the comfort of the room, while the soft murmur of the movie kept everyone’s attention, each child lost in their own little world of blankets and pillows.

Teddy, just had turned seven years old, had nestled herself beside Marcel, giggling at something he whispered to her. They both looked so content, her little legs curled under her, Marcel leaned in as if he was her age, completely involved in whatever silly joke they shared. On the floor, Theo and Tyde were sprawled out, blankets half on, half off, their eyes glued to the screen. Tyde was almost falling asleep, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, while Theo, as always, had a little extra energy, kicking his legs absentmindedly as he watched the movie.  Tate, your baby boy, was tucked into your lap, wrapped in the softness of your embrace and the thick blanket you had pulled over both of you. His freshly braided hair smelled sweet as you kissed the top of his head. He wiggled a little, getting comfortable, and then looked up at you with those big, doe eyes—the same ones his daddy had. 

"Mama… I have hot chocklate, pleabs?" he asked in the softest voice, his words gentle and full of that innocence only he could have. Before you could answer, Theo piped up from the floor, raising his hand like he was in school.

"Can I have some too, Mummy?" He asked, his eyes mirroring Trent’s just like Tates.  You chuckled softly, realizing you were now on the hook for not one but multiple cups of hot chocolate. You glanced around the room, sure enough, Teddy was giving you a hopeful look, her eyes just the same. Even Marcel, with a mischievous grin, was watching you with raised eyebrows, acting as if he was one of them. You shook your head in amusement.

"With mellows mama, pleabs." Tyde yawned rolling dramtically onto his side.

"I suppose I’m making hot chocolate for everyone, huh?" you said, laughing as you ran your hand over Tate’s hair gently. Trent, who had been watching you with that same soft smile he always wore when he looked at his family, sat up a little and turned to the room. 

"Okay, okay, everybody, what do we say?" His voice was playful but firm, encouraging a chorus of manners. In unison, all of your babies chimed in—Teddy, Theo, and even little Tyde who was starting to doze off—"Thank you, Mummy!" You let your eyes flutter closed appreciating the fact that your babies were using their manners. Marcel echoed a ‘Thank you, Mummy’ of his own in an exaggerated tone, causing the kids to burst out in giggles.

"Alright, alright," you said with a grin, untangling yourself gently from Tate’s little body as you prepared to get up. "Seven cups of hot chocolate it is." You rolled your eyes affectionately, feeling the warmth of their gratitude and the lightheartedness filling the room. But before you could full get up, Trent slid over from his spot on the sofa, taking your hand and pulling you back down gently, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playfulness. 

 "Let me help, beautiful. You’re not doing this all by yourself." He planted a quick kiss on your cheek after speaking. You shook your head rejecting him cupping his face and kissing his forehead before kissing Tates. When you had made it to the kitchen, you found yourself feeling a bit stuck as you searched the pantry for the marshmallows that were requested. As you began feeling more and more flustered that you couldn't find them, Trent quietly slipped in behind you. His presence was comforting as always, and when you turned to tell him you had it covered, your pout gave away how frustrated you really were. Trent saw right through it, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Can't find something, hmm?" he asked, his voice low, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. As you rummaged through the pantry, searching for marshmallows that if you couldn’t find would without a doubt stir up questions from the four, no probably five kids back in the cinema. Trent’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as he leant casually against the pantry door, his frame filling the space with a seductive presence. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, and a playful smile plays on his tanned, handsome face. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire as his intense gaze travels down your body, taking in your own figure.

"Just these pesky marshmallows," you replied with a sigh feigning a deeper frustration because at the moment you were mildly relishing the opportunity to spend some time alone with him. "Tyde asked and now they seem to have vanished into thin air. I swear, the marshmallows were here last week." You huffed playfully. He chuckled, stepping closer, and before you could protest, you heard the quiet click of the pantry door locking behind him. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you turned to face him fully. "T," you whispered, a laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at the door. "What are you doing?" You asked. It really was his plan to come and help but the way your body was stretched reaching up to shelves, the way your t shirt clung to your body, the whole thing was sexier than he anticipated. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his body warm, strong, and familiar. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous look that always made your heart race, even after all these years.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. "Making hot chocolate for seven people... trying to keep everything perfect." His hands gently traced down to the small of your back, holding you close as his voice softened. "I just want to make sure you're okay, too." You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, but there was something more in his gaze tonight-something playful. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His voice was lower now, huskier. "Maybe I can help you find those marshmallows..."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" you teased, but your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, your fingers lightly tracing the lines of his muscles. You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"Maybe," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours. Trent grinned, one hand sliding up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Or maybe it's about making sure you know how much I love you." The pantry felt like a world away from the cozy chaos of the cinema as the moment between you deepened. For a second, you forgot about the hot chocolate, the kids, and the fact that you were in a pantry. Trent had a way of making everything else fade away when he looked at you like that. Your breath caught as he leaned in, finally closing the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity in the way he held you, like he couldn't get enough. When he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead rested against yours. “You're so amazing, you know that?" He whispered. You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

 "I'm just trying to keep up," you said softly. He kissed you again, this time a little longer, a little deeper, making your knees weak. When he finally let go, his lips curled into that signature playful grin. 

"Well, I think I just found what you were looking for," he said, glancing behind you. You turned, expecting to see the marshmallows, but instead, your eyes landed on nothing. You glanced back at him, confused, but Trent's grin only widened. "Not the marshmallows, beautiful.” He clarified, pulling you back into his arms. "You." You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. 

“I’ll feel so bad if I can’t find them.” You pouted feeling defeated.  

“I might have a solution to make you feel better," Trent said, his voice dropping an octave, sending a delicious thrill through your body. With a swift movement, he stepped into you further, closing the distance between your bodies that had opened up. His hands gently cupped your cheeks, and he leant in again, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Let me take care of you, right here, right now." Your heart pounded in anticipation as Trent’s words send a rush of heat between your thighs. You'd always been a sucker for his cheeky charm and his insatiable appetite for pleasure. The idea of being taken by him in this very moment, in this intimate space, ignited a fire within you. Suddenly you found yourself in a rare moment of alone time and you were more than happy to take advantage of.

"Oh, really?" you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse with desire. "And what did you have in mind, T, baby?” You smirked. Trent’s hands slide down your neck, tracing the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

"Something hot, just for us," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending electric shocks through your body. "Something to make you forget all about those marshmallows." Without waiting for a response, he lifted your top, his warm hands gliding over your bare skin, cupping your heavy breasts, thumbs teasing your hardening nipples through the lace of your bra. "You feel so fucking good," he growls, his breath was hot on your neck as he kneaded and squeezed your sensitive flesh. "I love how responsive you still are to my touch, baby.” Trent cooed. 

"Please, T," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need more." You moaned softly, arching into his touch, your hands reaching back to grip his strong back, urging him closer. In response, he unhooked your bra with nimble fingers, freeing your tits. He bent down, taking a taut nipple into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hands continued to explore your body, stroking and caressing your sensitive skin. Trent turned you around, pressing your body against the pantry shelves, the various packages and boxes digging slightly into your front momentarily, adding a delicious pinch of pain to the growing pleasure.

"You're so wet f’me already," he whispered against your skin, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your joggers, stroking your moist folds through the thin fabric of your panties. "I can feel how much you want me. Have you been thinking about me, baby?” He mused.

"Yeah, baby, I need you. Miss you so much," you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as his skilled fingers found your aching clit, circling and rubbing it through the damp material. "I want you so bad. Please fuck me, right here, right now." He chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

 "Whatever you want, whenever you want, I’m always yours.” He said, his voice thick with desire. With a swift motion, he pulled your joggers down your legs, along with your soaked panties, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. He stept back, taking in the sight of your naked body, his eyes dark with need. "God, my fucking wife is so fucking sexy," he rasped, his eyes roaming over your curves. "Absolutely fucking perfect." You felt a surge of confidence as his words fueled your desire. Reaching down, you grasped his hard length through his pants, stroking him through the fabric, making him hiss in pleasure.

"I want you inside me, T," you demanded, your voice confident and filled with lust. "Now, baby." You whined. Trent didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shed his clothes, revealing his muscular body and straining erection. He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, and in one smooth thrust, he filled you completely, his thick cock stretching you deliciously in the most pleasurable pain. You were dripping wet but you also had to make this marginally faster than you probably would’ve liked. You were meant to be making hot chocolate after all. Trent let out labored breaths and a chuckle placing his hand over your mouth as you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of Trent beginning to fuck into you. 

"Oh, fuck…" you mumbled into his palm, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. Trent set a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive flesh with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the pantry, mingling with your muffled moans and cries of pleasure into his hand.

"You love this, don't you, baby?" he grunted, his breath hot on your neck as he pounded into you. "Always my dirty girl, taking my cock so well." He grunted, removing his hand from your lips sliding it to your front to tug on your nipple, making you shiver. 

"Yeah, Please, please, please.”  you chanted, your body on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "Harder, T, fuck me harder!" You begged him. You and Trent still got to have sex often but moments like this where you got to sneak around and feel like kids again were perfection and just flat out sexy. Trent oobliged, his hands tightening on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more primal. You could feel your orgasm building, a delicious pressure coiling low in your belly. "I'm gonna come, T!" you whined, your voice hoarse with need.

"Be a good girl f’me and cum on my cock baby."  Trent grunted letting his hand glide down your body, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The combination of his cock pounding into your pussy and his fingers working your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around his shaft as you climaxed, your juices flowing freely, coating his cock with your essence. Trent followed you into the abyss, his own release building rapidly.

"Fuck, baby… gonna make me cum squeezing me like that. Ah… fuck I’m cumming, baby.” He moaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, filling you with his hot cum. Breathless and spent, you both lean against each other, your hearts racing and your bodies glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. Trent planted a tender kiss on your shoulder, his breath still ragged. "I think we found something much better than marshmallows, yeah?" he said, his voice filled with satisfaction and a sweet laugh.

"Much… Much… better, my T," you cooed, turning in his arms to kiss him deeply. "I'd choose this any day." You giggled, a contented glow spreading through your body. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, swaying you back and forth as he glanced around, finally spotting the marshmallows on a high shelf, out of your reach. He let go of you with one of his arms, reaching up to them easily, holding them out to you with a grin. 

"Told you l'd find them. Orgasm and marshmallows lucky you." He winked with a laugh that sent an ache through your heart. He was always perfect for you whether it was finding marshmallows for your babies or if it was making you cum on his cock, he was ever perfect. You rolled your eyes affectionately, grabbing the marshmallows.

“Lucky me.” You giggled. “You always are right, huh?” You smiled leaving the pantry. Trent leaned against the kitchen counter as you gathered the cocoa mix, milk, and mugs. He watched you with that familiar look, his admiration for you evident in the way his eyes followed your every move.

"You know," he said softly, "you make this whole mum thing look so sexy and effortless." He cooed watching you.

"Not at all, but I appreciate you saying it." You warmly smiled at him, shaking your head. He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pulling you close again.

"I mean it," he whispered into your ear. "I don’t know how you do it, but our kids adore you. I adore you." You leaned back into him, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling the strength of his embrace. 

"Well, I couldn’t do any of it without you." He kissed your temple softly before pulling away to help with the milk on the stove. The two of you worked in perfect rhythm, your years of partnership evident in how naturally you moved together. Soon, the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen, and you smiled, knowing how much your little ones would love it. As you both returned to the cinema your kids plus Marcel eagerly awaited their hot chocolates, unaware of the stolen moment you'd shared. 

“You took too long, Mummy,” Theo complained in a huff, making you laugh as you carefully handed out the mugs of hot chocolate, as he narrowed his eyes at you and grinned.  

“Sorry, Tio baby. I needed Daddy’s help.” You smiled apologetically, giving him a playful shrug. 

“Did you say thank you to Dada?” Teddy, never missing a beat, tilted her head thoughtfully and asked before flashing to Tate and Tyde. Her innocent eyes wide with curiosity but also a proud glint in them trying to make a point to her younger brothers.  Teddy really dove into her roll as the oldest and being a big sister. You bit your lip, holding back a smug grin. 

“I did,” you said, glancing at Trent with a knowing look. He smirked and, in that calm, easy way of his, picked Tate up from Teddy’s lap and settled him into his own arms.

“Mummy definitely did,” he added with a wink, causing you to stifle a giggle. Marcel, who had been observing the scene from the the side of the couch with Teddy, raised an eyebrow and made a dramatic face of mock disgust. 

“Who knew hot chocolate took half an hour,” he said, shaking his head, “I bet mummy and daddy can do a lot of things in half an hour.” He muttered out with a chuckle. Trent threw a pillow at him. You both laughed as you nestled back onto the couch next to Trent, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you leaned into him. Tate immediately crawled back into your lap, his little arms wrapped around you. You helped Tate with his hot cocoa, blowing gently on the top to make sure it wasn’t too hot for him. Tate looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, and you kissed the top of his head, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like the thickest, softest blanket. As Trent leaned over to kiss your cheek, you took the opportunity to whisper into his ear.

“I’ll say thank you again tonight.”  You cooed, your voice teasing and soft. His eyes darkened for just a second, his lips twitching into a smile.

 “I’ll hold you to that.” He whispered. The kids were oblivious, focused on their hot chocolate and the film continuing to play in the background, but you and Trent shared that quiet, intimate moment—connected, even in the midst of the joyful chaos around you.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough here!

[srngrque]

reporting live

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Trent who was rather interested in the reporter than the actual report he had to give.

Time was ticking on a thin thread for you as your supervisor might call you within five minutes if you do not interview, at least, one player of liverpool. You have been in the reporting field for at least seven months and you now also have juniors yet for you to move like an amateur was hurting your pride.

You are social issues reporter, going around different cities, and write an interesting jaw-dropping report then, call it a day. Sport reporting was not your forte, it is almost like . . fork found in your backpack. Simply out of place. The million dollar question ringing in your head was why were you here in Anfield Stadium at the first place but you face-palmed yourself on accepting to cover for your senior who was in her maternity leave. You had always hated whenever you had to cover for a reporter doing sports. No particular reasoning, just childhood trauma.

You saw all the liverpool footballer players walking out from the dressing room after a hot win. You crossed path with the tall, charismatic dutch leader of liverpool to the small growing liverpool superstar Endo but you had your goal set on the biggest prize, the player with a fresh trim, and his headphone on as every reporter tried catching his attention.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the star of Anfield and liverpool. Your supervisor might as well, move you to the Sports section if you got to interview Trent; you were not looking forward to that but a lady has bills to pay. You sighed as you had to save your job before it slipped away from your grip.

Just one interview, anyway. What is the harm? You held the sleeve of his tracker suit lightly, you needed this, you needed a bang.

"Great win in Anfield, innit? Please let us know about how are you feeling about the win?" You asked reaching your microphone out to the man. His gaze froze, so did his feet in front of you. It could be the audacity to block his way toward the team bus or the glitch of mischievousness in his eyes that flickered on your red hue cheeks.

Trent chuckled as he moved slightly forward removing his headphone, your eyes set on the man completely compelled from the bridge of his nose, deep doe eyes to his captivating smile. Everything about the man was setting you up for a failure, realizing how much of a bad idea this was.

"Yeah, yeah it is great team win but to become the last scorer for the win is a different achievement, so I am proud and happy." Trent answered, his eyes never leaving yours for a minute. His heavy scouser accent oozed out every word as Trent kept his smile intact.

His eyes glanced at you, noting the rose hue on your cheeks, one hand slightly shaking to hold onto the microphone and the other holding onto the notebook. "Come here, love. Let me hold that for you." He mumbled gripping on the microphone as your fingers brushed on his and you were secretly praying to every god that was staring upon you to not show your slight jump after the touch.

"Okay so-" You paused, clearly out of the atmosphere as you were in no place to check out players nor drool out your delusional ideas when you have a very angry supervisor waiting on the clock and an impatient cameraman behind you. "Yeah, I cannot lie, you . . you were great in the field." You complimented him quickly but you were not lying about it. With the long passes, and all the chances Trent created for the team; anyone can tell he was born to become a football player who succeeds with legacy.

"You were watching?" Trent asked raising his eyebrows in question. Utterly confused, you paused to flip your notebook to look at the man in front of you. With the silent eye contact, your neck burnt hot. You nodded sternly, a thin smile on your face. "Of course, I was watching, I mean, I am a reporter, can't be missing out on the main point of the whole show."

Trent kissed his teeth, he smirked, "So, tell me more. How was I on the field? Did you like what you see?" He winked at your direction. Your mind went blank, in what position does he have to be to flirt openly with a camera panning on his face? The burning hot sensation on your back came straight up and your heart beating fast was not helping to form words, "Like . . like I said, you were great. You are the star of liverpool after all." You sweetly smiled.

Trent had the cheeky smile on his face, his eyes lingering on your lips before glancing upward to your eyes. He knew what he was doing to you moving closer to the barrier between the reporters and the players.

You cleared your throat. "You are also the player of the match." You trailed off; Trent leaned closer. Call it the stadium being loud for him to not hear you clearly or he simply wanted to be close to you, to mesmerize the small moles on your face, to engulf himself on your warm scent.

"Are you excited for your next big game against Manchester City?" You inquired. All the back and forth staring and silence with Trent will not colour your supervisor impressed at all. You need to interview someone else that will not . . leave you speechless in minutes.

"Well it depends, to be very honest with you. Will you be in the next game?" Trent further pestered.

You furrowed your eyebrows in slight annoyance at the player for making everything about you while the whole fanbase would want to know more about him.

The cameraman behind you almost dropped his equipment taken back by the question. You did not know . . how to respond to the player who was attacking you with his doe eyes. Nervously, you laughed, "I cannot be certain about that. Are you and your team ready? It is one of the anticipated game of the season." You diverted his topic back to what you needed at the first place.

Trent stared at you without responding to your question, you quickly started shaking your leg anxiously as your eyes lingered at almost all the players leaving to go back to the training ground from the stadium. Your chances were blowing every second Trent silent in front of you.

During this period, you started considering finding other jobs, as you started making mental notes. With thoughts looming around your head, you did not come to realize Trent walked a few steps toward you, nibbling on his bottom teeth. He removed the microphone away from his lips, coming forward for a conversation that is sealed between you and the liverpool player.

You flinched at his hot breathe hitting your skin, as he gently held onto your forearm to keep you in position knowing you will move away from his contact.

You coughed away from his grip. "Have a great day then. We cannot wait till what magic liverpool can bring to Anfield once again."

"And you too, have a great day but i did not quite catch your name." He inquired with his wicked smirk playing on his face. He wants me gone, jobless. Clearly, with zero intention to support my penniless lifestyle.

You smiled, "If you do goal against Manchester City, I will let you know."

"Should we seal the deal with a kiss then, perhaps?"

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS VI | NIGHTCALL

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 5,071

summary: you don’t know what to do about your feelings for jamie anymore. luckily you know a few people with thoughts on the matter. 

A/N: posting a little early for the holiday weekend! this chapter and part seven were supposed to be one chapter but it got too long. so i apologize for the cliff hanger in advance. :)

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

How do you simultaneously savor something while avoiding it?

That’s what you’ve been trying to do the last few days. 

After deciding the best thing to do would be to end your relationship with Jamie, you’ve been putting off doing so and have maintained your routine of dodging him at every encounter. You knew ghosting him was cruel and you didn’t want to do that. In fact, you were trying to hold on to every last ounce of him you could get, not knowing how your friendship would evolve once you called off the benefits part. But you only spoke to him for a few minutes, or over very brief text exchanges because you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. But you wanted to spend time with him while you could. Clearly you’re in quite the predicament 

The whole thing was ridiculous and you would be the first to admit that. If you were a normal person, you’d have either ended things with Jamie already or just gotten a grip and told him how you felt. But you were not normal. You were emotionally manipulated into thinking you weren’t good enough for your last boyfriend, so why would this be any different? 

You know your brain is working against you, but your heart is also aching. And while in this moment avoiding Jamie was hurting it, you wanted to protect it from more hurt down the line if he just ended up rejecting you. 

You’ve been trying to figure out the best way to break things off, and when you got overwhelmed by the thought, you dissociated by working on your book. Calling it a book was generous, but that’s what you hoped it would be eventually. A fake-it-until-you-make-it mentality. That’s also what you told yourself to do regarding Jamie. If you acted like you were going to get over him and everything would be okay, eventually that would be true. 

Of course, it was hard to convince yourself of this when he was so ingrained in your life. Even without seeing him after hours, you saw him around the club. You managed to limit your time with him over the last week, and Rebecca was surely becoming suspicious, but you expertly avoided her concerned gaze as well. Unfortunately, today you weren’t so lucky. Seemingly as a punishment for leaving her in the dark, Rebecca tasked you with getting some footage of the team while they trained. When you looked like you were about to protest, she hit you with, “or is there something you want to tell me, that would prohibit you from doing so?” And for a moment you considered breaking down and telling her everything. Then you remembered she would definitely give you reasonable advice, such as getting your head out of your ass, and you weren’t ready to hear it. So you faked a smile and headed for the pitch. 

Today, the boys were doing some sort of drill that involved them switching positions with another teammate. You didn’t really understand the ideology, but apparently it had to do with this new “Total Football” strategy Ted wanted them to try. Having not been around in a while, you were also confused why there were fans in the stands watching practice. You suspected this was Ted’s doing as well. There was a group of three fans you recognize as regulars at Crown and Anchor who called out to you with a wave. You kindly waved back before turning to Trent who stood beside you.

“How the fuck do they know who I am?”

The journalist only snorted, and went back to writing in his notebook. 

For all your effort to avoid Jamie, including eye contact while he practiced, you couldn’t help but gaze at him as he spoke with Ted and Beard. He looked particularly good today, for some godforsaken reason. The wind was blowing his hair around, making him look extra appealing. As he walked away from the coaches, with a confused smile, his eyes found yours, and his smile brightened a bit. That was your last straw. You gave him a quick smile, that you hoped he couldn’t tell was forced, and turned away as he jogged back onto the field. 

As the team started playing in their new roles, you walked further down the pitch to film from different vantage points. You were so focused on what you were doing, while also being amused by the team’s role-swap, you didn’t notice Roy slowly moving closer to you every few minutes. As you posted a clip to the team’s Instagram, you saw him out of the corner of your eye. He was facing the field, with his arms crossed, but you could tell he was chancing glances at you from the corner of his eye. You bite back a smile as you pocket your phone. 

“Can I help you?”

Roy doesn’t move. He shrugs, “Just observing training.” 

“Hmm,” you nod, crossing your own arms to mimic his posture. 

He side-steps a bit closer to you. You follow suit, and the two of you are only a foot apart now. You watch curiously as Roy’s expression turns into one of annoyance and you can’t wait to hear what he’s going to say.

“So...you and Jamie have been spending a lot of time together.”

That was not what you were expecting him to say. Jamie had told you a few things about their time in Amsterdam together, but he did not mention telling Roy about the two of you. They must have really bonded. 

“He told you that?” you don’t mean to come across so nervous but you definitely do. Luckily, the rest of the team, coaching staff, and Trent are out of earshot. 

“Yeah. Thought that was...interesting.” Roy grunts out. In other circumstances, you’d be more amused about how awkward he was in this conversation, but you were too concerned about why you were having it. 

“Well,” you debate your next words but ultimately spit them out, “Jamie told me he taught you how to ride a bike, which is also interesting.”

Roy’s eyes fall closed as he quietly groans. 

You continue, “So, I guess we both know a secret about each other.”

Roy finally turns to you with narrowed eyes, “I didn’t come over here because I wanted to tell everyone. That's your fucking business.” 

While you’re relieved that your secret is safe, you were still confused, “Then why did you?”

Roy studies you for a few seconds before letting out a long breath, “You mean a lot to Jamie.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as your heartbeat rises. 

Roy keeps going, “He’d never say it himself, but you’re important to him. And what you’re doing, avoiding him or whatever, is really fucking with him. As much as it pains me to say, he’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve being jerked around like that. He’s gotten enough of that from other people in his life. You don’t have to pretend to be in love with him or anything, but just…don’t give up on him completely. That’s all I’m saying.”

After digesting his words, you nod slowly. You’re not sure if Jamie said something to him about this, or if he was just looking out for his friend, but you know he means what he says. No matter the nature of Jamie’s feelings for you, you were clearly such a fixture in his life, that even Roy Kent could see it. And from the little Jamie’s told you about his father, you could tell he had something akin to abandonment issues. While you didn’t plan on cutting him out of your life completely, you knew your method of pulling away from him suddenly and withholding information while you got your shit together was not fair to him. 

“Thank you for saying that, Roy,” you finally say softly, knowing this was out of character for him, making it a big deal, “I would never, ever intentionally hurt Jamie. But I appreciate that you’re looking out for him.”

Roy nods back. You two let the moment hang before Roy quickly spits out, “You can’t tell him I said any of that to you.”

You laugh lightly, “I promise.”

You share a look of understanding as Roy turns to head back down the pitch. He makes it only a couple steps before turning back around. He opens his mouth but you beat him to it.

“I promise not to tell anyone about the bike thing either.” 

Roy sighs, giving you another appreciative look. This time, you’re the one who stops him as he turns back. 

“Roy?” he pauses and looks at you with a question in his eye, “You’re a really good friend to Jamie. He’d never admit it either, but you’re probably one of his best.”

While Roy is pretty good at maintaining a poker face, you can tell this affects him. You can also tell he’s not sure what to do with the information, so you give him a smile before jutting your chin in the direction he was headed. 

“You’re dismissed.”

Roy huffs out a small laugh, giving you one last nod, before finally making his way back down the pitch. 

As you stare back at the field, pretending to focus on the team’s training again, you take in Roy’s words. As you told him, you never planned on hurting Jamie, but that was mostly because you didn’t think that would be an issue. 

Jamie was not a relationship and feelings guy. He made that very clear, not only with his reputation, but also in his promise to you when you started sleeping together. You knew he cared about you. You don’t look out for someone the way he does with you if you don’t give a shit about them. But after talking to Roy, you found yourself wondering if maybe his care for you went beyond the realm of friendship.

No. No. You couldn’t get your hopes up. You still needed to end your sexual relationship with Jamie. You just needed to do it in a way that made it clear that you weren’t going anywhere.

Then another terrifying idea entered your mind. How the hell were you supposed to be Jamie’s friend without wanting to make out with him all the time? 

Moving to Richmond was supposed to make your life less complicated. 

For the next few days, you mull over your plan to break off things with Jamie between work and bursts of inspiration to write. By the time the team’s next match rolls around, you’ve thought about it so much it felt like you’ve simultaneously run through every scenario you could execute and made zero progress whatsoever. It was like saying a word over and over again until it lost all meaning. So you decided you needed reinforcements. 

Keeley would probably have really great advice, but you didn’t want to broach the ex-boyfriend of it all yet. Rebecca would definitely be helpful, but you didn’t think you could handle an “I told you so” yet about your developing feelings for the footballer. And regardless of either of those things, you came to one realization recently. 

You just really wanted to talk to Sam about it. 

He was your closest friend here - and probably ever - and he also knew Jamie pretty well. And in you��re effort to avoid Jamie, Sam had become collateral damage since that meant avoiding the whole team when possible. You’d also heard from Ted that Sam had been having a hard week with some social media blowback due to his activism around immigration. Which is fucking stupid, but you understood why it upset him. On top of that, his restaurant was vandalized in retaliation for his words, and the same week his father was visiting. So you figured you owed him a shoulder, too. And you just really missed him. 

That’s why you found yourself popping in the locker room ahead of their game against Arsenal. You spot Sam right away from your spot in the doorway. Unfortunately, he was sitting next to Jamie, so when you call his name and gesture for him to come talk to you, it gets the other boy’s attention, too.

As Sam makes his way over to you, you give Jamie a kind smile and a wave. It makes your chest hurt when he seems caught off guard by your act of kindness and gives you a timid smile back. He definitely knows you’re avoiding him and that makes you feel awful. You really need to talk to Sam.

As your aforementioned friend joins you at the front of the locker room, you instantly feel comforted by his warm smile. 

“Hi, it's so good to see you!” he greets. Okay, he’s definitely felt your absence as well. 

“You, too,” you smile back, “I met your dad a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, really?” his smile brightens, if that were possible.

You nod, “Rebecca met him, too.” Sam had told you about their brief stint together a little while ago, after you eventually confided in him about Mason. 

His smile falls slightly, “Oh, really?”

You chuckle, “Don’t worry, it was fine, and when it almost got awkward, Keeley defused the situation.” 

Sam lets out a relieved laugh as he rubs his forehead, “That’s good.”

Glancing around, you see the rest of the team preoccupied, including Jamie and Ted. Still you lower your voice, “So, I know you’ve probably got plans with your dad tonight, but would you be free to talk for a few minutes after the match? I kind of want your advice on something.”

Sam nods, but gives you a questioning look, “Everything okay?”

You nod eagerly back, “Yes, don’t worry. Just something I’ve been trying to figure out for a while and would love my best friend’s perspective.” 

The phrase slips out before you can process it. For a split second you worry you came onto strong. God, you were supposed to worried about like Jamie too much and now you were worried you were taking your friendship with Sam too series, as well? Thankfully, his bright smile returned to his face. “Well I would be honored to help my best friend out.” 

Thank God. You can’t remember the last time someone called you their best friend, and while you had (inadvertently) said it first, it still makes your heart flutter. 

“Great, I’ll see you after? Good luck out there,” You squeeze his arm before turning to the rest of the room and raising your voice, “Good luck today, guys!”

The room fills with a chorus of “thank you’s” and other words of appreciation. Before you head out, your eyes meet Jamie’s again, and you find yourself mouthing “you’ll do great.”

While he still seems surprised by your attention, he gives you a genuine smile this time. 

Richmond is not off to a great start as they round out the first half 0-3. It seemed they were trying out Ted’s new tactics, but they couldn’t get into sync. Jamie was at the center of it all, and from your spot in the suite with Rebecca, Keeley, Higgins, and Sam’s dad, Ola, you can feel the frustration radiating off of him from the field. 

However, the team seems to reenter the pitch with renewed energy for the second half. It takes them a few minutes to get there, but eventually they’re playing in perfect harmony. You’re not sure you understand exactly what they’re doing - not that you ever do - but whatever it was seemed to be working. By the end of the match, they had expertly managed to maneuver the ball across the field, with Jamie passing between other members of the team, for their first goal in weeks. And while you couldn’t explain any of it, you knew it was incredible. You want to ignore the part of you that feels proud of Jamie in particular, but you allow it. 

You wait for Sam in the parking lot with Ola afterwards. The two of you can’t help but cheer for Sam when he approaches. His dad shares how proud he is of him and the team, before he jumps in the car to leave the two of you alone. That wasn’t before the older man implied he suspected the two of you were an item. You and Sam laugh, before he corrects him and once again refers to you as his best friend. Ola smiles and tells you he’s grateful Sam has such good friends here.

“I’m proud of you, too,” you smile, shoving his arm playfully. “You guys are finally back in it!”

Sam chuckles, “I appreciate it, but honestly it was all Jamie.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods, “It was his idea to drop back to mid-field and pass between all of us, even though it meant he probably wouldn’t have the chance to score.”

You huff, “That seems out of character.”

Sam shrugs, “Maybe two years ago, but Jamie’s been different, especially lately.” You almost feel yourself take credit when Sam continues, “It's probably all that training he does with Roy.”

You laugh quietly to yourself, “Must be.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Sam asks.

“Funny, it actually has to do with Jamie.”

Sam’s eyes reflect curiosity, “Really? What about him?”

“We’ve sort of, you know,” You try to figure out the best way to explain it, but you can’t bother beating around the bush, “Well, we’ve basically been sleeping together the last few months.”

Sam’s jaw drops and his eyebrows shoot up so high they’re almost nonexistent. “You’re serious?”

“Yup,” you nod, popping the ‘P’, “It’s a classic no strings attached, friends with benefits situation.”

“While those are excellent films, I would have never expected you to take part in something like that. Especially with Jamie.”

“Me either - on both accounts - but it just sort of happened.” 

Sam nods slowly, looking off in the distance, as he takes in the news, “I’m a little afraid of what advice you want from me.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry, it's nothing salacious. The opposite, in fact. I’m trying to figure out how to break things off.”

Sam’s eyes snap back to yours, “What? Really? Is…” he lowers his voice, “Is Jamie bad at it?”

You almost choke on air, “What? No! He’s good. He’s really good. Like really, really good.”

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Sorry.”

“So why do you want to stop?”

You sigh, “Because I like him. I really, really like him. And that wasn’t a part of the deal.”

Sam nods in understanding, “You attached strings.”

“Yes,” you laugh lightly despite yourself. “So many strings.”

“And you don’t want a relationship with him because…what? Your ex sucked and ruined the idea of dating forever?”

You shake your head, “No, it's not that. I think I'd really like to date Jamie. I’m just not sure Jamie wants to date me. Or anyone for that matter.” 

Sam’s face scrunches up. He pauses and then, “I’m not sure you’re right about that.”

You squint at him, “What do you mean?”

Sam lets out a laugh, “Actually, now that I know about you two, things suddenly make a lot of sense.”

“What? What makes sense?” you question impatiently. 

“Jamie definitely likes you.”

You scoff, “And you think that because??”

“It’s little things. Nothing too crazy, but all together, plus the fact that you’ve been hooking up this whole time, it adds up,” Sam begins to explain, “Like when you first got here and we started hanging out, Jamie was very interested in what we were doing.”

“Yeah, he asked me if we were dating around that time,” You bring up softly, recalling your first conversation in the club’s parking lot.

“See!”

“See what? He told me he just didn’t think people on the team could date club employees.”

“Yeah, why do you think he wanted to know that?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he also wanted to bang Rebecca.” Sam gives you a look and you unclench, “Sorry, that was disrespectful to you and Rebecca, and probably Jamie.”

Sam shakes his head, “It wasn’t just that. A couple months ago, one of the guys - who shall remain nameless for the sake of this conversation - made an innocent but suggestive comment about you.”

“It was Richard wasn’t it?”

“He shall remain nameless,” Sam barrels on, “But Jamie flipped out and defended your honor. I thought it was because he’d been trying to be less of a prick, but it was probably jealousy. Or at the very least protectiveness.”

“I buy the protectiveness thing because we’re friends,” you roll your eyes, “but he was definitely not jealous.” 

“Come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how attached to you he is? He’s always the first person to volunteer when you need social content, and the first to say hi when you stop by during practice.” 

You shake your head, trying to find words to argue, but you’re losing resolve. 

“A couple weeks ago, a few of us were at Crown and Anchor, including Jamie, and this girl started flirting with Jamie, and she was gorgeous, probably one of the most beautiful girls we had ever seen, she was-”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I get it.”

“Sorry. Anyway, this girl was definitely the type Jamie would normally go for, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Isaac started teasing him but it didn’t bother Jamie. He said he wasn’t interested. Before you got here, he would have gone home with her, no questions asked.”

You break eye contact with Sam. “...Maybe her breath smelled bad?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Or maybe there was someone better he could see.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“I’m not saying you have to stay with Jamie,” Sam continues, “You are a strong, independent woman who definitely doesn’t need anyone to define her. But if you want to be with Jamie, then you shouldn’t punish yourself. Just because some other idiot didn’t treat you right, doesn’t mean the next guy will do the same thing. I guarantee Jamie will treat you better, because he clearly already does.”

You swallow the lump that's forming in your throat, as tears pool behind your eyes. Looking back at Sam, his face drops, clearly taking your emotional expression as a negative reaction.

“If I overstepped-”

You don’t let Sam apologize as you cut him off with a bear hug. He quickly wraps his arms around yours and squeezes you tight. 

Not only does Sam Obisanya know exactly what to say to you, he also gives the best hugs. 

“Are you alright?” he whispers over your shoulder.

You nod into his, “Yeah. I think I really needed to hear someone else say that.”

“Good. Because your ex was an idiot. Like the stupidest person I’ve ever heard of.” You laugh as you pull away, “You know that right? That whatever he did to make you feel less than the incredible person you are was on him. You’re amazing and it was his fault for not seeing that.”

You smile, wiping a stray tear away. “Yeah, I do. My brain likes to work against me sometimes, but I know that.”

“I understand that,” Sam gives you a reassuring smile, “Brains are dumb sometimes.”

���God, they’re so dumb!” You laugh as you catch your breath. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Of course. I’m here for you anytime, you know that.” You nod. Sam bites his lip before speaking up again, “So, does this mean you’re going to profess your undying love for Jamie?”

“Shut up,” you shove him gently, “I wouldn’t go that far, but yeah, maybe I’ll tell him.” 

“Good. And I better be the first to know when he tells you he feels the same so I can gloat about being right.”

You laugh before another thought occurs to you.

“Wait, if you picked up on all of this from Jamie, do you think anyone else has?”

Sam shakes his head as if you’ve said something insane, “No way. No else on the team is that intuitive.”

You huff, but press, “Not even the coaches?”

“I don’t think so,” Sam tilts his head, “Why?”

“That is a story for another day, my friend.” 

Before saying goodbye to Sam for the night, you ask how he’s handling everything after the Twitter backlash and the break-in. While he assures you he’s doing okay, you can tell he’s putting on a strong front. You’re relieved his dad could be here this week. You’re sure it's been a great comfort to Sam. As you start heading towards the car Rebecca arranged for you, you also bid adieu to Ola, who made you promise to get dinner with him and Sam before he returned to Nigeria. 

Gazing out the window on your way back to Richmond, you reassess your plan to call things off with Jamie. After hearing how he took one for the team today, coupled with everything Sam said about him in regards to you, you feel yourself becoming hopeful that it did mean Jamie may have feelings for you. At the very least, you could put yourself out there. Because Sam was right, you couldn’t let Mason cloud your brain anymore. The way he treated you was unacceptable, and just because he made you feel like you weren’t good enough doesn’t mean you were. And sure Jamie never made you feel like that. But as of late, you’ve been feeling more confident on your own. You were good at your job. You had amazing friends who liked you for you. And you had your creative spark back and started writing again. So even if Jamie didn’t feel the same, you knew you’d be okay. Because you were more than your relationship with him.

It would just be the cherry on top of everything else. A really fucking good cherry.

Eager to see him, you quickly take out your phone and find his contact. Pressing call, you suddenly hate the sound of the dial tone. Thankfully you don’t have to listen to it for long, when Jamie picks up after the second ring. He says your name like a question, reminding you that you haven’t reached out to him on your own in quite a bit. Brushing past the guilt you felt, you greet him.

“Hi,” you say softly, “How are you?”

“Um, I’m alright. Yeah. How’re you?”

You close your eyes, still hearing the unsureness in his tone and you curse yourself for making him feel insecure. 

“I’m good,” you force out cheerfully, “You were incredible today. At the match.”

“Oh?” Jamie says, a bit surprised, “It was nothing. Richard scored the goal.”

You sigh at his modesty, “Yeah, but you were the one doing all that work getting the ball across the field. If you ask me, you were the star of the show.”

“Oh yeah?” you can feel the confidence creeping back into his voice, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” your words hang in between you for a moment, but you speak up again before you lose the nerve, “So, I called because I wanted to know what you were up to tonight. Thought maybe you could come over?”

“Really?” you can almost see Jamie’s wide eyes.

“Yeah. We haven’t really seen each other in a while, and I promise there’s a reason for that, which I can explain. And I just…miss you.”

You close your eyes, anticipating his response. You bite your thumb as Jamie sharply inhales. 

“I miss you, too,” he says softly.

“Really?” you respond just as quietly. 

“Yeah.” He pauses for a second. Then, “Shit.”

“What?” you say back quickly, heart racing. 

“It's just…Isaac and I thought it would be nice if we did something to help Sam with his restaurant since someone vandalized it. So, now a bunch of the team is headed over there to help fix it up. I was actually just about to leave.”

You exhale quietly. You didn’t think you could like him more than you already do, but you were wrong. 

“Jamie, that's really great. It's sweet that you all would do that for Sam.”

“You could come join us?” Jamie suggests hopefully, though you can feel the nerves in his voice. 

You laugh lightly, “While I would love to help, I think you guys should just keep it to the team. It’ll be more special that way.”

“Yeah,” Jamie sighs, disappointedly. 

“But you could come over after if you want?” You suggest quickly, with a lilt in your voice. 

“Yeah?” Jamie perks up, “Are you sure? It might be late.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, “I’ll wait for you.” 

“Okay,” you hear the smile in his words, “I’ll text you when I’m on my way, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Bye Jamie.” and with a giddy smile, you hang up. 

You’re too anxious to go home right away, especially knowing you’ll be waiting for a bit. So, you text Rebecca to see if she’d meet you for a drink. Keeley had a date with Jack tonight, who she’d been seeing for a bit now. But that just gives you a chance to fill Rebecca in on your rollercoaster of emotions. 

Of course, she says :I told you so: when you admit to falling for Jamie. But she’s also happy for you. She’s glad to see you so happy in general, and that you didn’t close yourself off to the possibility of happiness with someone. Apparently, that was something she used to do. 

You also “ooh” and “ahh” when Rebecca recounts her misadventures in Amsterdam with a mystery Dutch man. You hope the successful encounter also encourages her to put herself back out there. And hopefully she’ll learn the next guy’s name. 

After a couple hours of girl talk, Rebecca drops you off at your flat. Checking your phone, you still hadn’t heard from Jamie, so you pump yourself up to change into your pajamas and throw some comfort TV on while you camp out and wait for him. 

But as you make your way up your apartment staircase, you see a figure lingering outside your door. For half a second, you’re excited at the prospect of seeing Jamie sooner than expected. But as you near the top of the stairs, your eyes recognize the figure as someone you definitely didn’t plan on seeing tonight. 

Softly, you gasp, “Mason?”

A/N:

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster @geek-and-proud @grippleback-galaxy @lalla-04p @gabbycoady13 @royalestrellas @qardasngan @creationcitystreet-em @percysaidnever @emily-b @mrfitzsimmons @k-n-e @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25 @escapismqueen @sokkigarden @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @dollfaceyourfear @dicgohargreeves @heyitz-julia @vampirodelascajas @grxcesmind @lizziel1410 @bcon24 @looooooooomis @queen-of-dumbasses @moseyluvs @alipap3 @amachira @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @daphneblakeswife​@piper @spookysins @a-sweet-little-fangirl @optimisticsandwichgladiator @marveltg365 @ringpopdust @gcidrvsh @beardsplitter @scaramou  @ibong-adarnaaa @piper570 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3  

[meow-xine]

Enough for me. (Roy Kent x Fem!Reader)

pairing: (Coach) Roy Kent x Fem. reader

word count: 824 words.

warnings: roy being sad/doubting himself, roy x reader fluff, reader comforting roy, slight sexual themes suggested (near the end), roy hating on trent crimm

a/n: hi!! this is my first ever fic so... pls be gentle. this fic is based on season 3 episode 2 of ted lasso. thanks for clicking on my post out of the millions, i appreciate you :)

summary: roy comes home, frustrated and in need of some comfort after a confrontation with trent crimm about the column he wrote on roy's premier league debut.

It was a normal day- mundane if anything. You had not too long ago returned home from work, now lazily being slumped over the couch scrolling on social media. Your shared home with the newest coach of AFC Richmond was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Roy, you expected, would be home soon, probably coming through the door stringing curses together. Something of course happened at work, the only question was who exactly he would be pissed at this time.

Just as the scenario of an angry Roy played in your head, he walked through the door. You chirped up, happy to see him after a long day, when you noticed the down look of his face. It was less angry and more...disappointed? "Hey, Roy" You spoke, gently due to the unawareness of what was happening. As you stood up and walked toward him, his eyes planted on the ground, you noticed closer the expression splayed on his face. His brows were furrowed, and he seemed to be in a deep solemn thought. It was only when you lightly touched his harm that he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

You offered him a comforting smile, "You alright? Talk to me." After you spoke, you moved behind him, beginning to take of his coat. "I don't know." He finally spoke, his tone being gentle. Silence filled the air for a brief moment until he spoke again, "Can I ask you something?" He was now meeting your gaze. "You know you can."

"Do you think I'm good? Like, good enough?" What? A puzzled look fell over your face, and he spoke again before you got the chance to. "I don't know- fuck. It's hard to explain." His gaze diverted once again, now focusing on his fingernails he softly picked at. "Roy, I'm not sure what's going on, but you can talk to me. What happened today?"

"Today was fucking fine. It was normal until that prick Crimm had to interfere." he paused, alternating his eyes from you and the floor, "It's bad enough he prances around the fucking place like he owns it, but today he just had to come talk to me and shit." He picked at his fingernails, a little rougher this time, and you could tell he was wallowing in a mixture of hate for both Crimm and what had gone down today.

You knew he wasn't very fond of Crimm, but not exactly why. You had always figured it was because he was a-in his words-pretentious dick. But this was deeper than that, you just had a feeling. You shot Roy a concerned look. He slowly reached for his wallet and drew out a slip of paper, placing it in your hand and urging you to read it.

What welcomed you was a small excerpt claiming "Newcomer Roy Kent is an overhyped, so-called prodigy whose unbridled rage and mediocre talent rendered his Premiere League debut a profound disappointment.” As soon as you read it, you shot Roy a sad glance. You were angry for him, not believing someone had the will to write such negativity.

"Crimm wrote that." He paused to take the small slip out of your hand. "I was 17, and I had just started playing. Seven fucking teen." He gritted his teeth, grimacing. You rubbed his arm, waiting for him to start again. "I have been living my life since then feeling like I was shit. Then today Crimm revealed he did it just to be 'edgy' and make a name for himself."

Not knowing exactly what to say, you continued to rub his arm. "Roy I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the dejection you’ve been feeling all these years.” He gave you a weird look, a mixture of solemn and happy.

“You know what I really can’t believe? I kind of want to forgive his ass.” You were shocked at what you could assume was Ted’s influence. “Really?” He nodded. “As much as I don’t want to fucking admit it, yeah. He was trying to do his job I guess. I just wish he would have picked on..some other prick, I don’t know.” He was now stifling chuckles, just as shocked from the situation.

“You know what Roy?” you spoke, not breaking eye contact. “Hm?” He tilted his head. “I’m proud of you for coming to that conclusion. You could have blown up, yeah? Been angry, upset. But you handled it all well.” Your graze moving up from his arm, now on his cheek. A good minute passed as you enjoyed holding his rough face.

He leaned down to kiss you. It was gentle and sweet, spreading a honeyed heat through your being. He continued placing small kisses on your face, your neck. Slowly turning into esurient nibbles.

“I fucking love you.” He spoke through kisses.

“I love you too.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And Roy?”

“Mhm?”

“You will always be enough for me. Always.”

[luckybitchsstuff]

could you do something angsty with trent alexander arnold? like maybe you two get into a huge fight and break up but he wants you back?

Sometimes we say things we don't mean - Trent Alexander Arnold

Pairing - Trent Alexander Arnold x female reader

Warnings - some swear words and arguing but nothing to bad

Omg okay, this is a good one. Also, I have around seven requests at the moment, including this one, so if you have requested and it takes a while for me to post it, I'm sorry

———————————————————

It was stupid you made a silly remark on how girls were tripping over their own feet after seeing Trent. At first, he laughed about it, but as soon as you got home, he changed completely, and now you were stuck in the middle of a fight that was stupid and didn't need to be happening

“I don't even know why you are so angry. It was a little joke,” you shouted back at him as he scoffed. “You know exactly what you have been doing. You get so possessive and controlling over anything I do. You must stop blaming girls within a 5-meter radius of being in love with me.”

You shook your head. “I'm not being possessive or controlling. It's true, Trent. Everywhere we go, girls are drooling over you, and you barely pay any attention to me. It hurts, you know to be thrown to the side as I watch girls touch up on you, and you act like nothing is happening!” you felt tears burning in your eyes you could just curl into a ball

“Maybe if you didn't need attention 24/7 like a lost puppy, I wouldn't act like this, and you expect me to stand next to you when you look likeninjsut picked you up off the street for about 20 pounds an hour.” you stared at him in disbelief no fucking way he just compared you to a prostitute

“Fuck you, and we're done.” before he could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and keys and walked straight to your car, getting in and driving away without looking back. You couldn't believe he'd say that to you after your four years together. A fight has never been that bad

You got to your sister's house it was around 12:30 when you got there so you were sure she wasn't awake but you needed to stay somewhere and she was the only place close you walked up to the door ringing the door bell twice after a minute you heard the door unlocking to see a very sleepy personnstood at the door it wasn't your sister it was her boyfriend

“Is y/s/n here?” he nodded, and after seeing your state, he let you in. If anyone had seen your state, they would think you were pissed out of your mind, the mascara all over your face, bloodshot eyes from the crying, and your hair wasn't straight anymore. It was frizzy

“She's upstairs in bed. She's awake, though. I'll sit down here till you want me to come up.” you rubbed your back slightly before going to sit on the sofa. You made your way up the stairs and walked into your sister's room. She lifted her head from her phone, and as soon as she saw you, she sat up and wrapped her arms around you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes before she stood up to get some makeup wipes for you to wipe your face. “What happened?” she sat in front of you handing you the wipes

You told her starting from when you were out to when you left the house she gave you another hug telling you that you can sleep in her spear bedroom

It had been two days since your and Trent's argument, and you were starting to feel a little better, but you needed him back. You had barely slept because you couldn't without him there.

You heard a knock on the front door. You were about to stand up, but your sister beat you to it and walked towards the door, which you couldn’t see from the living room. You heard someone come in thinking nothing about it since her friends came over a lot

Your sister walked in, giving you a look, and then Trent followed. You felt relieved to see him, but you were still hurt by what he said to you. He smiled slightly at you before asking if you guys could talk. You nodded, and your sister left the room to go upstairs to give you both space to talk.

“I'm just going to say this now before you say anything. Whatever I said to you that night was wrong, and I know I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you, either. You were telling me how you feel, and as your boyfriend, I should always listen to you.” he stopped for a few seconds before continuing. “I'm not saying you must forgive me yet, but please just come home. I can't sleep knowing you're angry at me and also knowing you're just not with me, so please just come home.”

He looked down while waiting for you to respond. You didn't know what to say. You knew you wanted to forgive him, but you didn't know how or what to say

“I forgive you, but it still hurts Trent. Hearing the words come out of your mouth hurts a lot. I knew you didn't mean it straight away, but at the time, it was heated, and I shouldn't have dragged it out. This isn't just your fault I'll come home but I need to get my stuff ready okay?” you looked up at him to see him staring at you

You stood up to go get your bag but your sister was already holding it at the door. “Wow, you really must want to get rid of me!” you both laughed as Trent grabbed your bag for you and took it to your car as you were putting your shoes on he came back in

He gave you a hug you felt comforted again. God, had you missed this, you looked up at him, going on your tiptoes to kiss him before sinking back down and laying your head on his chest again. “I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said lowly. You lifted your head and looked up at him. “I forgive you.” he leaned it, connecting your lips again, and for the first time in 3 days, you felt comfort knowing you were back in his arms and that he was still yours.

———————————————————

Sorry this took so long I've been so busy recently but ill start posting more again soon thank you guys for the requests love you all

[chetchad]

🄱🅁🄾🄺🄴🄽 🄶🅄🄸🅃🄰🅁 🅂🅃🅁🄸🄽🄶🅂

MDNI 18+

(Trent Lane x FEM!reader)

KINKTOBER DAY 2; (student/teacher, mutual masterbation, break up)

WC; 1.3k

CWs; (teacher/student relationship, guitar lessons, mutual masterbation, fingering, slight squirting(?), porn without plot, loosely edited, mentioned trent/monique, light praise)

You were seated on the bed, watching your instructor's skilled fingers strum a simple note. His rings were a nice contrast to the wood of the guitar.

“Okay. You try, yeah?” Trent hummed softly, holding his tuned instrument out to you.

God. This guy was a fucking babe. How were you supposed to concentrate with him around you?

“Alright…” your tone was soft and unsure, not positive you could pull off the very basic and simple G chord.

It had been like this for a couple weeks now. You came over every Wednesday, or whenever Trent would call and ask if you wanted to come over that day for more practice.

His prices weren't horrible.

25 a lesson. (It was coming from daddy's bank account anyway)

Plus, he was fun to be around. Laid back and soft spoken. He wasn't loud and obnoxious like some of the other 21 year old boys you've met in your short 19 years.

With nimble fingers pressed against the strings, you looked up at Trent for validation about your finger placement. Trent's half lidded eyes met yours, reaching forward and shifting your hand a little.

“There. Now, just, strum. Gently.” Trent instructed, giving you a small reassuring nod.

With a small amount of hesitance, you softly strummed the chords, smiling a little when the right note vibrated back to your ears. Trent gave a tiny nod of approval, his eyes dancing across your pretty features.

“Good girl.” He praised softly, giving you a little grin.

Fuck. That made your pussy weep into the gusset of your panties. Making the white fabric almost translucent and cling to your cunt.

“Hm, we can be done with this lesson. I've got rehearsal at five.” Trent sighed, stretching a little.

You furrowed your brow, looking down at the watch around your wrist, “... it's seven-thirty?”

“Damn it.” Trent huffed, before shrugging with an indifferent expression, “...next time.”

God. You never got the term “the bee's knees”, but Trent was definitely the bee's knees…whatever the fuck it meant.

The next lesson the following week, Trent was more tired than his usual sleepy self. So, like the good little girl you were, you asked what was wrong.

“What's going on? You seem a little upset.” Your words were casual while you sat on his bed and raked his body up and down while he laid on the comforter, staring up at the ceiling. His raven hair was messy, even more so than his everyday spikes.

“Me and Monique broke up last night.” Trent answered, sitting up and rubbing his red eyes from lack of sleep(or a high. Hell if you could tell)

“Again?”

You covered your mouth, realizing it was pretty damn rude to out him like that. But he didn't seem upset and just smiled with a little chuckle that ended with a cough into his fist.

“Yeah. Not very surprising?” He coughed out, looking up at you with a small grin.

You leaned over to grab his guitar, the short skirt exposing those cute little pink panties of yours. Trent could see everything. The chubbiness of your pussy, the little wet patch from your swollen inner lips.

Damnit. Trent crossed his legs, hiding the semi in his jeans.

Honestly, you didn't expect your lesson to turn out like this. But here you were, gently palming the twitchy and leaky bulge in Trent's jeans, listening to him sigh softly in pleasure. His noises were absolutely the best thing you've heard from him. Sure, his little humming while he played a simple tune was cute, but you didn't know he was a whiner.

Trent's lips lightly danced over the soft skin of your neck, kissing and nipping at you. He almost convulsed when you undid his belt and fly. A soft little, teasing suck at your neck was what you were met with when you slipped your hand in his boxers.

Oh wow. He felt nice, pretty damn throbby and weepy. Tugging down his boxers, you set them under his nutsack, making the two chubby balls seem larger at the base of his cock.

You subconsciously spread your legs like a whore when his hand slithered under your skirt, teasing the sopping gusset of your little boyshorts.

Skilled boy, yeah? He knew exactly where that sweet little nubbin was, hiding in those folds and fat of your pretty inner lips.

Pushing your skirt up, Trent tugged your panties to the side, eyeing the soaked heat appreciatively. With quick fingers, Trent spread those pretty lips, almost groaning at the velvety insides of your cunt.

You hummed softly, watching his cock with half lidded eyes while you pumped the hot length. A sweet muffled cuss left your lips when he circled your entrance with his middle finger.

“Tight?” Trent's smooth voice rang in your ears.

“... probably.” Your answer was definitely biased due to it being your own cunt.

“Nice.” He nodded approvingly, slipping a digit in your tight heat, grunting when your channel squeezed his intruding finger.

“A-ah…!” You gasped, stilling your hand, before pumping him with great vigor.

The room was hot and stuffy, the sounds of skin on skin, wet squelches, and soft noises of pleasure filled Trent's room that was usually full of music. Well, this was the music of the devil's tango or Satan's mamba. Whichever it is.

“You're such a good girl.” Trent praised cooly in your ear, thrusting his finger in and out of your pussy, his palm hitting your clit with every push. Your cunt had a great suction on it, swallowing and squeezing him greedily. A second finger slipped in while he curled them up to tease your sensitive g-spot.

You whined in response, rubbing your thumb over the drooling slit on the tip of is cock. A soft grin pulled at your lips when Trent gasped, hips stuttering nicely when you went over it a few times. It was agonizing for him. He was so close to finishing, but he didn't even know if you were close to an orgasm.

“‘M close…” Trent warned, dark eyes searching your eyes for any sort of recognition that you were at the edge.

“Me too…” your voice was soft and breathy, your other hand pulling your sweater up and tugging the cups of your bra down, freeing the mounds of fat chub.

Trent let out a low moan, his eyes zeroing in on those bouncing hemispheres and pert nipples that were begging for his attention. It took everything in him not to wrap his lips around one of your cute nips and go to town on it.

Your thighs were trembling, the cool metal of his rings were almost too hot from the heat of your sweet cunt. You knew you were close, the knot in the pit of your stomach was knotted so tight that it hurt, just begging for it to snap.

God. If Trent knew that this is what just touching and feeling was like with you, he would have already gone all the way during that first lesson.

The knot finally snapped when Trent used his other hand to pinch and flick one of your hardened buds. You accidentally grabbed onto his messy hair to keep yourself grounded while you came with a soft cry of his name, your hand desperately trying to keep pumping him while you gushed around his fingers.

Trent's eyes widened, gasping and thrusting up into your fist while he finished. Spurts of pure white dribbling over your knuckles, your hand and wrist limp while you panted in his ear, almost building condensation on the piercings with your hot breath.

After a few moments of gathering your bearings, you pulled back a little, your noses touching while Trent's lips grazed yours.

Trent gripped the back of your head, fisting your hair and clashing your lips against his. You giggled against his lips, his soul patch tickling your chin.

You pulled away after about a long minute of hot kisses, a bit breathless, “Do you do that with all your students?”

“The cute ones, yeah.” Trent replied, watching your heated form with a smug grin.

[bullet-prooflove]

Birthday Bingo Celebration: Troublemaker - Will Trent x Reader

Tagging: @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @littleesilvia @oscarisaacispunk @elizabeththebat

Companion piece to Letting Go - Will finally decides to let go of Angie.

It isn’t until a month later that Will realises he’s forgotten Angie’s birthday. It’s the first time in his entire life that he hasn’t given that woman a second thought. He’s too busy chasing after his daughter Libby, because she’s seven months old and just learned how to crawl. The mischief that child can get into if left unattended for under ten seconds astounds him but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“She’s a trouble maker just like her momma.” He tells you as he scoops her up into his arms on his way into the kitchen. She'd been making a beeline straight for Betty’s dog basket before he’d thwarted her progress.

“Nice try sugar.” He mumbles against her temple as she starts to grumble. He begins to rock slowly, bouncing his hips a little as he clasps her to his chest and his baby girl, she starts to settle almost immediately.

“You’re a natural.” You say as you continue to cut veggies on the chopping board and he smiles as his palm comes to rest on the back of Libby’s head, his thumb smoothing over her feather light hair.

“It’s all in the hips.” He tells you and you can’t help but laugh.

Will has taken to fatherhood better than either of you had imagined. He’d been attentive throughout your pregnancy, barely able to take his hands off you inside the bedroom or out of it.

He’d listened to as many baby books as humanly on Audible whilst he was decorating the nursey, landscaping the garden and baby proofing the entire house. He’d spent evenings singing Nina Simone songs to your baby bump just so she would learn the sound of his voice. He’d laughed when she kicked, following the motions with his palm. You couldn’t ask for a better husband.

Libby raises a tiny hand, pressing it to his mouth and he kisses her tiny delicate fingertips.

“It was Angie’s birthday last month.” He tells you, his attention focused entirely on daughter. “It’s the first year I’ve forgotten it.”

“We can go this weekend if you like.” You say softly, inclining your head towards him. “Pick up some yellow roses on the way.”

“No.” He says quietly as he lifts Libby high in the air and she laughs out loud at the sensation, her tiny features lighting up with joy as she looks into her father’s eyes. “I meant what I said about leaving the past behind. I just want to focus on our future.”

Love Will? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

WWE Masterlist

Fluff = 💕 (count: 12)

Smut = 💦 (count: 0)

Angst = 💔 (count: 2)

Main Roster - Smackdown / Raw

Baron Corbin - Safe 💕

Roman Reigns - Always Have, Always Will 💕

Seth Rollins - Too Little, Too Late 💔  

Finn Balor / Fergal Devitt - Luck in Love  💕 

NXT

Adam Cole - Never Should’ve Let You Go 💕       

 --------  Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Kyle O’Reilly - Cookie Dough Kisses  💕

NXT UK

Marcel Barthel - Always There   💕

Marcel Barthel, Fabian Aichner - What’s Mine 💕

Tyler Bate - Perfect Chance💕

Trent Seven - Notice Me 💕

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Fourteen: She's a maneater (But he loves it)

(^^ Literally Duncan whenever your on your meds)

(In case you would like to know, when the intro music plays each episode, you are holding a bow and arrow and are shooting an apple off of Duncan’s head)

Duncan’s body had a sleeping schedule. Unlike you, Duncan didn’t need a thousand alarms to wake him up.

He didn’t even need one. He woke up at six a.m every day and fell asleep at twelve p.m every night. He’d wait until seven-thirty and wake you up.

Today you were woken up by Chris’s plane’s engine roaring above the cabins. Your eyes flew open instantly and your hands reached under your pillow for your pistol, your fingers going straight for the trigger.

Duncan ran into the girls side of the cabin, his headphones sitting around his neck. He had this cloudy look in his eyes that you didn’t like.

But when he saw that you were there his body relaxed and he helped you out of bed. Bridgette had gone outside to investigate the sounds. You laid a bunch of clothes on your bed and Duncan smothered a laugh once he saw them.

“We both know these aren’t your style. Do you want one of my letterman jackets that Chris bought me?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “More than anything.” You said with a heave of relief. 

He disappeared before reappearing with a dark green letterman jacket that had ‘Tarun’ stitched to the back.

You slipped out of your nightclothes (much to Duncan’s happiness) and pulled up a pair of jean shorts, a long blue shirt that you were pretty sure was Bridgette’s that you tied at the bottom, and pulled the jacket over your body. You laced up your tennis shoes with a practiced ease and finally asked “How do I look?” Duncan was staring at you.

“...Bad?” You muttered a blush tingling your cheeks. “No, never, you look like a goddess.” Duncan smiled. You blinked before scowling, your cheeks turning a dark shade of pink. “Shush.” You kissed his lips.

“Hmph.” Duncan smiled and you both went outside.

You got there just in time to hear Chris yell “Extreme sports!” before a bunch of interns wheeled out a dusty sofa bed for Chef Hatchet to jump on.

“Of course you’ll be skydiving at five-thousand-feet and using these.” Chris said paying no attention to the groaning man whimpering on the now folded sofa. Chris threw bags out into the open which you were 98.99% sure did not have any parachutes in. 

“I’m going to need a lot of alcohol.” Duncan turned to look at you as you prayed out loud to the sky. “Who are you asking?” he said looking around because everyone was focused on the two men.

“God.”

“Our lucky contestants are Trent and DJ.” Chris said with a bright smile. “Oh shit it’s at random.” Duncan paled. “Oh. So today’s the day I kill myself.” You muttered rubbing your face.

“You wish, baby.” Duncan pecked your cheek, he smiled as your face turned a deep shade of pink. “What?” You grumbled. “You're cute when you're that pink.” He smiled and you wanted to punch him.

“I got a reputation, Tarun.” you hissed. “Maybe I’ll ruin it.” He whispered and your entire body turned pink. “Shut up.” You whispered, embarrassed. 

Chef Hatchet began disclosing the challenges. One involved the sofa-bed, another involved riding an extremely angry moose, and the last involved a jet-ski. So, a typical Saturday to say the least.

You laughed when Chris mentioned the moose. “If he’s as angry as me I think I’d be fine.” You said not really worried. “You're in luck, beautiful. You’ll be riding for the Killer Bass.” Duncan didn’t like the subtle flirting… at all. 

Then they announced what the prize was. A chance at a shower? 

“Really? That’s it?” It wasn’t even a private shower, in reality it wasn’t really a prize, it was just a slightly cleaner place to bathe.

It didn’t even have curtains?

—--

You skipped breakfast. This meal looked like it came right out of a fire pit. Duncan had vanished but not before he made you turn four different shades of pink when he said… “Y/N Tarun. I think I love it.” 

Bridgette, Gwen, and you were talking about the challenges and watching Owen eat with mild disgustion. You watched as Owen burped out… a love note. Chef picked it up and read it to himself. “To the girl with smoldering eyes.” He gagged and dropped the note. Bridgette picked it up.

“Check it out, it's a corny haiku poem.” Gwen laughed into her palm. “Whoah, some dude’s crushing big time.” Bridgette’s eyes scanned the love letter. “Cupid definitely struck.” You laughed quietly.

“It’s probably for you.” Gwen said pointing your way. “Me?” You wanted to laugh. “Obviously?” Bridgette was confused why you didn’t think it was you. “Aren’t you and Duncan a thing now, plus I see the way he looks at you. He’s head over heels.” Gwen said, trying to convince you.

“First of all, that’s not his handwriting, he's borderline dyslexic and writes like a five-year-old on crack. Also he does not look at me like that.” You hissed. “Aw, you know his handwriting.” Gwen cooed at the fact. “Yes, he does? He looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon.” Bidgette laughed.

You blushed. 

The two girls started to bicker over who it could be.

You rolled your eyes. Neither of their boys had the capability to write something that cheesy. It was very clearly Harold, he gushed over girls quite a bit. But you were curious about the mystery chick.

 

—-

Chris had the Screaming Bass gather by the plane as he explained the instructions. Duncan was listening but you had his headphones around your ears as music blasted. Maneater by Nelly Furtado to be precise.

I wanna see you all on your knees, knees.

You both were on the couch, he was sitting up but you had your head in his lap, lightly tapping your thigh in tune to the music. Duncan had his fingers playing in your hair which he knew you found comforting. It reminded you of your mother to be honest.

When you were younger she’d give you braids (A/N: Heavily implied to be cornrow braids, aka implied black!reader but can be seen either way) and her hands would weave throughout your hair.

You either wanna be with me, or be me (come on now)

Duncan tapped your shoulder signaling it was time to get up. You sat up quickly as you shook your head ‘no’, you did not want to give him his headphones back. He scowled playfully. Your team started to push the couch in between Duncan struggling to get his headphones back. 

A maneater, make you work hard.

Bridgette sighed as she watched you too mess around. She watched you trip into the sand as Duncan tackled you and you both rolled around laughing your heads off, before Duncan quickly stole a kiss, then his headphones back. Her eyes flickered to Geoff. Why couldn’t he do something like that? 

“Aw man.” You gave Duncan a playful pouty lip and he stuck his tongue out as you both resumed pushing the sofa. You watched DJ easily fall onto the sofa and he seemed surprised that he survived. 

But he was quickly ‘devoured’ by the couch.

You paled and began whistling and walking away everyone else following in pursuit.

It was your turn next. Duncan followed you next to the moose and helped you climb up. “Just think, the socks don’t smell as bad as my dad, and the moose can’t be as crazy as juvie.” He shrugged, you had been through worse, he had been through worse.

“Fair. Don’t I get a kiss for good luck? It’s tradition right?” You smiled. “Come back alive, baby and we’ll see.” Duncan smiled walking away as the moose flew out of the pen.

You whooped and hollered with joy as the moose bucked around. It was angry all right. But something switched in the animal's head, it wasn’t angry, it was murderous. He bucked twice in a row and he flipped you off of him and onto your back on the ground thankfully missing the socks and he antlers trapped you against the hard ground.

Bridgette watched as Duncan’s eyes widened and his body straightened up. His hands reached for the gun hidden in the waistline of his pants and Bridgette grabbed his wrist. His eyes were clouded over when they met hers. “Let. Go. Of. Me.” He growled but she persisted. “She’ll be okay.” Bridgette hissed at him. 

Its antlers scratched up your face before Chef Hatchet could get the moose under control again.

Duncan shook off his stupor and ripped his wrist away from Bridgette sending her a glare before he helped you up and you coughed into your hand. You couldn’t hear anything. Duncan waved a hand in front of your face saying words but no sound came out. “Huh?” You mumbled. But suddenly there was sound, and there was a LOT.

You covered your ears and Duncan slipped his headphones around them as he switched the white-sound on.

‘Better?’ he mouthed. You nodded. 

He took you away to get your face bandaged. Duncan pointed at a log and you sat down, he knelt in front of you and began butting butterfly bandages on your face which Chef had thrown to him mouthing ‘Don’t tell Chris’.

“Sorry, I lost. Something happened with the moose.” You whispered unsure of the volume of your voice. “Are you okay?” Duncan whispered back, he didn’t care if you lost, honestly he didn’t care if you had gotten the entire team in last place or whatever, he just wanted you to be okay.

You shrugged your shoulders as Duncan put the last bandage on. 

He sat next to you on the log and wrapped an arm around your shoulders kissing the top of your head. You stayed like that until the next challenge.

—-

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—--

Duncan had volunteered to drive Lindsay and before he had hopped on the jet ski you mildly threatened him (you still wore his headphones). “If you purposely ruin this I will fight you.” You whispered, jabbing a finger in his chest. His lips found yours. “Maybe I’d like that.” He whispered and you rolled your eyes. 

You both watched Heather drive Harold and much to your surprise Heather’s top flew off. “Well that’s fun.” You whisper-laughed and Duncan smiled bringing you closer towards him as you put a head on his shoulder.

Duncan failed spectacularly at driving Lindsay, so much so he flew into a tree much to your horror. You scaled the tree flipping from branch to branch before you found him near the top.

“Hey sweetheart I might have a concussion… but did you know that there’s this girl I reallllyyyy like her name’s Y/N and she’s super pretty but don’t tell her okay?” you had to stifle your laugh.

“Okay.”

—

You may have lost the challenge but you were as happy as a clam. Duncan was still really out-of-it and Chris did not make it better by antagonizing him. He quickly shut up when you pointed a gun at him.

In other news.

Harold got voted off.

—

“WHAT-” Leshawna and Harold just kissed much to your horror. “I know, I was as surprised as you are, kid.” Chef sighed next to you.

[bss-babygirl]

Late Night Study Sessions

Trent Seven x reader

Warnings: Fluff

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added/removed!): @lilred91 @beautybyfire @pleasantlyshamelesswizard @rebellious-desires @punkgoddess-98

AN: HI GUYS!!! Sorry I’ve been a little MIA when it comes to writing on this blog, I kinda hit writer’s block and then was overwhelmed with school with it being my senior year and all. But anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this cute fanfic!

It’s currently 2 AM and you are sitting at your desk, cramming for your Anatomy and Physiology Midterm tomorrow. You’re beyond stressed out because, you have the pass the midterm in order to receive credit for the course. It’s also your senior year, and so being this close to graduating; you put yourself under a lot of pressure to do well.

Trent normally hates it when you do these late-night study sessions because, he knows how unhealthy it is on you and your body when you don’t give yourself the proper rest you need. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to sneak around to be able to get this study session in, since Trent was currently out working out at the gym with Tyler. This gave you plenty of time to get as much studying in as you possibly could before he gets back, whenever that may be.

In school right now, your professor has covered 7 units, meaning you need to study all seven because, who knew what he was going to put on the midterm. So far in your studying, you’ve only covered 3 units; you still had 4 more to go, you look at your phone to check the time, it’s currently 2:13. You don’t know when Trent exactly left, since he left while you were still asleep.

Right at that moment, you hear keys turning to unlock the door; and soon after, Trent’s voice ringing through the apartment. You sighed, mentally frustrated at yourself because now he’s home, and you weren’t even halfway done with your studies. Right at that moment, your cheerful boyfriend walks into your bedroom to see you in your current stressed out state. He was about to ask what was wrong but stopped when he saw all your books and flashcards spaced out all over your desk surface. “Hey baby!” You let out a sigh. “Baby, what’s wrong my love?” Tears started to well up in your eyes, “I’m stressed Trent, I have this huge midterm on Monday that I need to study for, and I’m not even halfway done covering all the material I need to study.” Trent walked up to you, and began to rub soft circles around both your shoulders. “Well, I know it’s 2 AM, but do you wanna go for a drive? It’s a nice night, we could roll the windows down, and listen to music while I drive.” You were about to protest because you needed to finish studying, but Trent cut you off, “And before you worry about the fact that you need to finish studying, don’t worry about that. I will help you study some more tomorrow, yeah?” You nodded. “You did well Love, I’m proud of you!” Trent’s comment made you blush. “Alright let’s go.”

End

[eddiesprincess95]

Hey guys, I'm a lot better now so I have decided to definitely start writing again

So guys this is my new prompt list and you can send requests here its not going to be like last time I will be writing again :D

1.“I don’t want to stop loving you.”

2.“We were just pretending to be lovers, but I’m not pretending anymore.. I need to know if you feel the same way.”

3.“I said you couldn’t fall in love with me, but I didn’t say I couldn’t fall in love with you.”

4.“Promise me you’ll stay.”

5.“I didn’t want it to end, I just thought you’d be better off without me..”

6.“I’ve tried to move on, but no one is you.”

7.“If this is the last time I see you, know that I love you more than anything.”

8.“You hide it in jokes and sarcasm, but I can see how broken you are.”

9.“Just do one last thing: Kiss me.”

10.“Nothing has ever scared me more than being with you.”

11.“Please.. don’t leave.”

12.“We were never just friends.”

13.“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

14.“Are you trying to seduce me?”

15.“I miss you every second of every day.”

16.“I’m trying to forget you the best I can, but damn it, we belong together.”

17.“You say I got us into this, but you didn’t stop it from happening, either.”

18.“I always overthink, just let me do something thoughtless for once in my life.”

19.“After everything… I’d still choose you.”

20.“If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.”

21.“You’re too good for this world.”

22.“How long do we have?”

23.“Do you think we’re bad people?”

24.“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m going to take care of you.”

25.“We were never meant to fight on our own.”

26.“We always have a choice.”

27.“Is that a threat?”

28.“Keep your eyes on me.”

29.“You can lie to yourself but don’t lie to me.”

30.“I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.”

31.“We have to stick together.”

32.“We’ll get through this. I promise.”

33.“Don’t leave me behind.”

34.“How did you find me?”

35.“Who did this to you?”

36.“I don’t want to be alone right now.”

37.“Don’t you dare die on me!”

38.“You’re out of your damn mind.”

39.“You make me feel invincible.”

40.“I’ll keep you safe.”

[release-your-sweets]

In addition, there's nowhere near enough Trent Seven content on the internet

There's not enough Pete Dunne content on the internet