#and then meet up with trent again

[lomltrentarnold]

❛ alleged girlfriend. ❜ — trent alexander-arnold

❪ part one / part two ❫

‣ warning : fem!reader, somewhat fake relationship au but not really, trent and reader aren’t really dating but there are rumours 👀 and they are not denying anything sigh, flirting, i think they like each other idk 🤷‍♀️

‣ hana’s notes : i really liked writing this concept idk why 😭 it was making me smiling and shit 😭 maybe i’ll do more fake relationship au with trent!! hope yall enjoy this mwah 🫶

MAIN MASTERLIST

━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━

trent never really liked parties. sometimes its way too loud, way too stuffy, and way too many people. if it was his teammates or friends he was fine. but sometimes it was strangers that just loves to ask too many questions that he feels like he’s in an interview more than a conversation. some just wanted to hear the drama about the transfers and relationships rumours.

“so trent, the fans want to know if you’re seeing someone or not.”

speaking of relationship rumours.

trent involuntary scrunched his face. if he hears that question one more time or anything related to that he is going to go crazy. the amount of times he has to dodge answering that question this night alone was insane.

it all started with a viral tweet recently that went out on how trent was always “seen” with this one person, a girl specifically, over these past weeks. everyone went haywire with assumptions. articles were posted, people were flooding his dms and his ig posts are full of comments about this mysterious girl.

who? when? how?!

“hello, pardon, i’m so sorry to interrupt, but can i steal him for a bit.”

timing couldn’t have been anymore perfect.

he snapped his head towards you so fast, you can positively hear his neck crack. with the sound of your voice, he could suddenly feel the clouds clearing, the room felt less stuffy, the birds were chirping and everything seemed fine.

your hands wrapped around trent’s forearm, moving to stand close to him, as you smiled politely at the person in front of him.

in all honesty you have been keeping your eyes on him ever since you saw an interviewer that you recognised speaking to him. with trent’s body language, anyone could tell that he wanted to get out of that conversation. so you excuse yourself from your friends and made your way to trent, a strategy already in mind.

the person nodded their head quickly, “yes, yes of course miss.” before they cheekily added, “wouldn’t want to keep you away from your man.”

trent internally cringed, he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed but instead he heard you giggle, your hands squeezing his bicep tighter. but trent knows you, he knows that was not your real laugh.

but when he turned to look at you, he can see that your eyes were sparkling, you were wearing an adorable smile that pulls on his heartstrings, the lights of the room making your skin all glowy and he thinks he might pass out.

as you both bid your goodbyes, trent immediately rested his warm hand at your back, guiding you through the room. you both ended up in a secluded area, hoping that it was out of the eyes of other people. but that proved wrong because you could feel every pair of eyes on you and trent as you both walked together.

leaning against a wall, you turned to look into his brown eyes that you have become fond of. you smiled at him, eyes involuntary dropping down to his rose tinted lips as he licked them, before it curls into one of his pretty grin that never fails to make you swoon.

suddenly you look over trent’s shoulder, you saw a group of people taking picture of both of you.

you can already see the tweets.

trent alexander-arnold seen with the same girl at a party last night!

trent alexander-arnold getting cozy with someone?

is trent alexander-arnold in a relationship? or is it just casual?

is trent alexander-arnold no longer single?

you smile dropped, and trent grew concerned, “what is it?”

you looked at him, an apology ready in your mind. “i’m so sorry. you just looked uncomfortable and i thought i’d came in and save you. but i am so sorry if that was crossing a line. because with the way it looked we aren’t beating the rumours anytime soon.” you rambled.

trent shook his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “nah, it’s fine. thank you for savin’ me.” he smirked, at your relief face before a teasing look appeared on his face, “but, ya didn’t say anything when the guy said i was ‘your man’.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how your heart was beating like crazy, —this gorgeous man was standing right in front of you. you could smell his cologne, you needed to calm down— “you’re very welcome by the way.”

with the smirk never leaving his face, he took a step forward towards you, closing in on your space. you could see his dimples better like this.

“aren’t worried that people are going take our pictures together? with the rumours?” you voiced out, concern plastered on your face.

he shrugged, “nah, not really. reporters say a lot of things, doesn’t really bother me.”

you slowly nodded your head in understanding, lips pursed as a second of silence passed. “so…”

“so…” trent coughed out, he moved between the balls of his feet, “wanna get out of here?” he whispered, scrunching his nose in a way that has you smiling like a lovesick fool.

your nervously looked to the crowd, seeing if anybody was still staring. when you were positive no one was, you looked at trent, nodding with a smile, “yeah, okay.” you took his hand in yours, missing the way his eyes went wide and a shy smile appeared on his lips.

he interlock your fingers together, “let’s go, then.”

you don’t think you’re going to beat the allegations anytime soon.

tell me what you think babes <3 also part 2 ?? update : i posted pt2

[houseofanticipation]

You wake because a shifting balance of weight on your bed has caused your mattress to shake. For a moment you think it must be Christmas morning—that'll be your little brother, jumping on your bed to wake you up—but your room is still dark, and the clock on your bedside table reads 12:00 exactly. You squint at the person sitting on your bed. Definitely too old to be your brother...maybe your dad? But no, this person's frame is too wide, too bulky. The figure leans forward, and it suddenly occurs to you to be afraid, but all he does is pull the chain on your bedside lamp.

The man in your room is Santa Claus.

It doesn't occur to you to think this is a man dressed as Santa. One of your classmates might; you know most people your age don't believe in him, and you've learned to hide your own belief, lest you embarrass yourself, but you've never stopped believing privately. You know this man is Santa Claus in the same way you've always known Santa Claus was real: it's a feeling in your heart, a knowledge that you are loved, no matter what. You get that same feeling from this man.

"Santa?"

"Little Susie Summers," he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "It's so wonderful to finally see you in person. You know you're one of my favorites?"

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods. "I mean it. You've kept me in your heart all these years, long after most children abandon me. I've so loved watching you grow into this beautiful, confident woman I see before me." His voice deep and warm and smooth, like hot chocolate. His eyes glitter behind half-moon glasses, and his enormous white mustache only accentuates his fatherly smile.

"I always knew you were real," you say, breathlessly, eager to impress. "Even when everyone called me names, I kept believing. I always stayed on my best behavior for you."

"I know you did," he says. "I have your list right here." Seemingly from nowhere, he produces a length of rolled up parchment, which he begins to unfurl as he reads. "All those times you helped young Cristopher with his homework, even when you wanted to go out with your friends...the way you check in on old Mrs. Rasherton every week...you're a real paragon of your community."

Your chest swells with pride. You'd do those things anyway, of course; goodness is its own reward. But it feels so wonderful to have your good deeds recognized by this man you so idolize.

"Of course, you've had some encounters with the naughty list, too. What child doesn't? That time at camp, for instance, when you allowed Trent Lipski to touch you under your underwear?"

You can feel your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Santa. I tried to be extra good to make up for it."

"Or those times in the bathtub, when you put your private parts under the faucet?"

You look away. You can't stand the disappointment in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Santa."

You feel his hand on your cheek, gently pulling your gaze back to meet his. "Don't worry, Susie. No one can be perfectly good all the time, and your good deeds have vastly outweighed the bad. You are a good girl, Susie Summers, and that's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yes, my dear girl. You see, you're eighteen now and—"

"Almost eighteen," you say helpfully. Your birthday is January 7th.

"Close enough," he says. "You're growing into a woman, which means this is the last year I'll be able to bring you presents."

This comes as a surprise. You always known Santa Claus brought presents to children, but it never quite occurred to you that that meant he didn't bring presents to adults. "You mean...you'll never come here for me again?"

"I'm afraid so," he says sadly. "This will have to be goodbye. But because you've been such a good girl all these years, I've brought you one final parting gift, in addition to the ones below the tree downstairs."

"Really? What is it?"

His hand is on your thigh, caressing you gently. "You've been so good for me, Susie," he says. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to be extra good for me, one last time." His other hand is on your stomach now, furry white glove slipping under your sleep shirt. You're starting to be unsure if you want this gift, but you know it's rude to act ungrateful. "Can you be good for me, Susie?"

You nod nervously.

Slowly, one finger at a time, Santa slips the gloves off his hands. The skin underneath is like aged leather, wrinkly and soft. You gasp when he lifts up your shirt. "Look at this," he says, fondling your nipples. "Already so hard. I knew you had a naughty side to you."

No. You can't. You push his hands away, gently as you can. "I'm sorry Santa, I'm flattered, really, but I can't—"

Santa makes a clicking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden your hands are being yanked back, toward the headboard. Some kind of cuffs clamp around your wrists, holding your arms far away from Santa's creeping, explorative hands. You look to your left and right, and see that they're not cuffs at all, but arms; thin, sinewy arms attached to a pair of thin, sinewy people no bigger than your forearm. They stare at you with large, unblinking eyes, and grin with mouths full of pointy teeth. They're strong, in spite of their size. You struggle against them with all your might, but neither seems remotely phased.

"You're a lucky girl, Susie," he says, playfully circling your areola with his thumb. "Most boys and girls never get to see a genuine Christmas elf. Meet Pepper and Ginger, two of my most trusted lieutenants. I could never do my job without their help."

The elf called Ginger—you can tell which is which because they wear name tags reading G. BREAD and P. MINT—pins your hand to the bed and sits on your wrist. She closes her eyes and begins grinding against the nub of your wrist bone.

Santa chuckles. "Of course, I make sure they get to enjoy themselves. I think that's the hallmark of any good boss, don't you?" He bends down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling and groping at your other breast while he does it. You're afraid, but it feels kind of good, too. And you know Santa has your best interests at heart...doesn't he? When he comes up for air, Santa sees the tears running down your cheeks. "Oh, hush now, my dear, don't cry." He lays a tender hand on your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I promise I'll be gentle with you. I'll make you feel good." He gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his red pants to reveal white thermal underwear. This he unbuttons, and out comes...

You've seen a penis once before. Earlier this year, Daryl Dennis let you touch his at a party. You held it in your hand and stroked it up and down, delighting in the way he moaned and kissed you and told you how good it felt. When he came on your hand it snapped you out of whatever madness had taken you over, and you fled the room to wash it off. You hated yourself for weeks after that, tried to work extra hard to earn your place on the good list.

Suffice it to say, Santa's cock is about three times the size as the only other cock you've ever seen. It stands up so stiff that it actually touches his overhanging belly, and defined veins pulse up and down its length. He smiles when he sees you looking at it. "You came so close to letting Mr. Dennis be the first cock you ever felt inside you. I wish you could stay pure forever, but you're becoming a woman now. You should at least know what a real cock is like, so you have something to compare against."

He hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls off your pajama bottoms and you panties all in one go. You're too afraid to fight back; those elves' teeth are sharp, and besides, you've spent so long trying to stay off the naughty list. A good girl would lie back and take it. You are a good girl. You are a good girl.

Santa's head is between your legs now. He's kissing your thighs, sniffing deeply, running his tongue along the outside edges of your crotch. One hand strokes his cock, and you can see he speeds up when his nose gets close to your pussy. "You know, Susie, I've found in all my years of life that the sweetest girls have the sweetest cunts. Did you know that?"

You shake your head.

"It's true. And you just might be the sweetest girl I've ever seen. So you can imagine how eager I've been to get a taste of this perfect, beautiful cunt. Let's get your juices flowing, shall we?" You gasp as his leathery fingers pinch the hood of your clitoris and pull it back, and a sound you didn't expect escapes your lips when his wet, warm tongue flicks across your exposed clit. He starts to trace slow, steady circles around it, taking his time, letting the desire build until your clit is throbbing with need. His moustache tickles your pubis as he closes his lips around your clit and begins sucking, first in long, slow pulls, and ramping up into quick, agonizing pulses. You begin to feel that feeling in your groin, the one you felt when you touched Daryl Dennis's cock, or when Trent Lipski put his hand in your pants, or when you hold your privates under the bathtub faucet. It's a tightness, a warmth, a wetness, and Santa must notice it too, because he smiles up at you. "Good girl. Let's find out what you taste like."

Suddenly his tongue is inside you, and you're moaning and arching your back and crying a little bit, because you're so scared but it feels so good. The elves grin and give you little kisses on your arms. Somewhere along the way Ginger has removed her pants, and she moans as her little elf pussy glides across your wrist. On the other side, Pepper's hands are on your pinky, lining it up with her exposed cunt, drooling as she pushes it inside.

When Santa comes up for air his glasses hang crooked on his face. "Hoooh, Susie, you must have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted. Like caramel apples and candy canes. You really are one of the nicest girls who's ever lived."

You can't help but swell with pride at this praise. You've tried, really tried, and to know that it's paid off...it makes everything worth it. All the work, all the self-sacrifice, it wasn't for nothing. It's left a real, detectable mark on your body, and Santa can taste it in you. "Thank you, Santa," you manage to say.

"You're very welcome, Susie," says Santa. "And now that you're ready for me, I think it's time I made use of you." He straightens up, and flops his cock down on your stomach. It feels even bigger against your skin. You're afraid again. You know what's about to happen, and you're afraid it's going to hurt.

He throws his head back and moans with pleasure as the head of his cock parts your pussy lips. Your teeth grit and your heart pounds as you brace yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. When he begins to push inside you, it's like he's stretching you out from the inside. There's no pain, only pressure, and increasingly, pleasure. He fills you up an inch at a time, expanding inside you, making you feel full in a way you never knew you could. You never should have doubted Santa. He knows what's best for you. He knows what you need.

"Ooohoho god, Susie," he says, picking up the pace now. "I knew you'd be worth it. I always know which good little girls will have the most delectable cunts. Girls like you, natural whores who make the choice to be nice, deny their nature to be sweet just for me...saving yourself for me...you know, somewhere deep down, that your little cunt is mine for the taking..."

He's right. He's completely right. When you fled the room after Daryl Dennis came in your hand. When you felt so guilty after Trent Lipski. What were you saying, implicitly? My holes are not for him. My holes are for Santa. You're moaning indiscriminately now, arching your back, your eyes rolling back in your head. The elves seem to be enjoying themselves, too; they moan squeakily as they ride your hands, apparently no longer worried about you trying to fight back. Santa's belly rolls across you with each thrust, and the heft of it is like a weighted blanket, comfortingly immobilizing. He grunts and moans with each thrust, the ball on his hat bouncing haphazardly. You feel something growing inside you, something wonderful and intense, something far better than the faucet on your clit, or Trent Lipski's fingers in your cunt. Your body is beginning to tremble, your legs bending and your toes flexing involuntarily. Suddenly you're afraid again; the sensation is too much, you can't handle it, you need to get away. Some animal part of your brain takes over; you're wrenching your hands free of the distracted elves, pulling yourself away from Santa's relentless cock, flailing your legs, kicking Santa in the solar plexus as he tries to grab at you. He doubles over, wheezing, and you know instantly you've done something terrible.

For a long moment the room is stock still. The elves seem just as frozen in fear as you are. Santa coughs, steadies himself against the bed. When he looks up, there's a darkness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. He clicks his tongue again, and the elves spring into action, grabbing you by the hair and turning you around so that your head hangs backward over the edge of the bed.

"I was going to give you a special present," says Santa, upside-down over you. There's a sick mirth in his voice that makes you shiver. "A Christmas present like no one's ever gotten before. But you had to go and be naughty." He says the word like it's the most vulgar epithet he can think of. "I was going to give you a son. My son. My heir. But my seed can't grow in a womb despoiled by filth." You feel a pressure inside you; it feels sort of like Santa's cock did, only harder, rounder, and growing. You lift your head to see what's going on down there, but it's all internal. It's getting painful now; you start straining to push it out. "The only thing your cunt is good for now," says Santa, a merciless twinkle in his eye, "is coal."

With a painful stretching sensation, a black mass crowns out of your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and stretching them wide as it pops out of you. It's a smooth, roughly spherical lump of coal, about the size of a baseball.

A leathery hand cups your chin and pushes your head back down. Santa's cock is inches from your face. "You're not going cocktease me, naughty girl. I'll get mine, one way or another."

Tears well up in your eyes as his cock parts your lips. You've never gotten coal in your stocking before, not once. You've spent your entire life being the nicest you could possibly be, and you had to go and ruin everything. You imagine what it would have been like to have Santa's seed growing inside you, your belly swelling with his son, your breasts inflating with peppermint-flavored milk. Instead you have his wrinkly, low-hanging scrotum slapping your face, and another lump of coal already forming inside your stupid, naughty cunt.

Santa forces his cock past your tongue, down your open throat. You gag, convulse involuntarily, but the elves hold you down, not to be caught slacking again. His belly drags across your face as he pulls back, and you spend a few seconds coughing and sputtering before he forces himself back down your throat again. Again, you gag, and when he pulls out this time you spit out a globule of thick saliva that collects around your nose and runs down your cheek. It goes like this for several more pumps: you gagging, struggling, crying, and him continuing to rape your throat anyway.

No, you think. Enough crying. You did something naughty, and now you pay for it. What do you always do when you catch yourself slipping into naughtiness? You're extra good to make up for it.

You steady yourself. Relax your throat. Santa is your king. Your god. Your everything. Your whole life, everything you do has been to please Santa. Now is no different. You start licking his shaft as it pounds away at your mouth. You can't see his face past his belly, but you can tell he likes it: the veins on his cock bulge under your tongue, and he groans with pleasure. Slowly, making sure the elves know you're not trying to fight, you lift your arms and grab the backs of his thighs, pulling him into you with each thrust. He takes the encouragement, picking up speed and enthusiasm. With one hand you begin to tenderly massage his balls, and with the other you stroke the base of his cock, the part that can't fit all the way down your throat. This is right. This is correct. My holes are for Santa, you think again. It's not for you to choose how he uses them.

You pop out another two lumps of coal, though you find that if you don't let them get too big it can be a somewhat pleasurable experience. You wonder how many nice things you'll have to do to stop them coming. You hope it isn't too easy. You moan as another one presses against your clit on its way out of you. You're desperate to rub yourself, but you can't take any attention away from Santa's beautiful, enormous, swollen, throbbing cock. That is your purpose.

With a long, shuddering groan, Santa presses his cock as deep as it will go. You feel hot cum shooting down your throat, collecting in your esophagus. He holds you there for a long time, your face in his overhanging belly, coal growing in your cunt. When he finally retreats you cough a huge glob of cum into your mouth. It tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg.

"Oh, little Susie," says Santa admiringly. "Even when you're being punished, you try your best to be nice." He sits next to you on the bed and begins gently massaging your throat. "It isn't enough to put you back on the nice list, but it's a start." He seems to think long and hard about something. "I'm a believer in second chances, Susie. I'll have to come back to this house next year for your brother anyway. Maybe I'll check in on you, and if you've been extra good..." he shoots you a twinkling wink. "I just might give you your special present after all."

Your head falls back in relief. You haven't squandered your chance! Santa is a merciful and loving god! The elves lay their heads on your breasts, petting your skin and cooing approvingly. The next thing you know, Santa is pulling up his pants, tucking in his undershirt, buckling his belt. He puts his hand on the knob of your bedroom door, but he turns back over his shoulder before he goes.

"Susie...you were right. Your holes are mine. No other cock, nor finger or tongue or any part of another person may penetrate them. But now that you're a woman...I believe it would be alright if you touched yourself, if you like. And know that I'll be watching." With that he's out the door, Pepper and Ginger in tow.

You get into a comfortable position in bed, head on your pillows, legs spread. You're slowly amassing a small pile of coal on your bedspread, and you're ready to go for another. You let this one grow a little while inside you, expanding until you can't take it anymore, then arch your back and close your eyes and furiously rub your clit as you birth it.

As a ball of coal the size of a small cantaloupe rolls to a stop on your sheets, your bedside clock clicks over to 12:01.

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself. 

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth. 

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks. 

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod. 

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that. 

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say. 

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie. 

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.” 

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face. 

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks. 

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

[loviingpedri]

hi:) can u pls write a fic where trent has a secret gf (there’s no reason to keep her a secret, he just likes having her to himself and wants their relationship to be just theirs for a while) but his friends/brothers notice him always ditching them to meet/call ‘someone’ and they start teaching him like damnn are u in love or something??? thank you :)

secret lover - trent a.a

prompt: request

warnings: grammar issues

credits to all owners for images

trent was the best boyfriend. you couldn’t ask for someone better than him.

he prioritized you. he valued you. to him, his whole life is you.

keeping his dedication to you, it was a mutual agreement to be a secret couple. you loved it. it was adorable how you would be far away from him in a bar while he tried to sneak away to see you. how he would hide his phone when he got your messages. or when he simply left parties very early because he couldn’t bear to be without you.

of course it was getting suspicious. how he would step out of team dinners for almost 20 minutes to call you. his absence at places weren’t going to be dismissed either.

“hey trent. are you going to my place later for some games?”

“i don’t think so, mate. got some things to do.” once again, his friends were disappointed that he was ditching them again.

“what’s going on with you trent? that’s like the tenth time you bailed on us. don’t tell me you’ve met someone and haven’t thought to tell us.” the suspicion was rising once again.

“of course not. you’re my best mate, i can’t keep secrets from you.” lying through his cheeky smile, trent had relief wash over him as his friends just kept walking.

deciding to cancel your movie night since it was getting hard to keep your relationship a secret now, trent had decided to go to his friend’s house. if trent didn’t go there, they would come to him. and hiding was not a safe option for you.

“i’ll take some time to call you, yeah?” it wasn’t trent without dedicating some of his fun time towards you. it was hard for him to simply leave. he wanted to be with you every chance he could get.

“don’t worry about it. just have fun.” you kissed him goodbye and watched him leave.

trent took his sweet time getting there. it was the effort of being there, not how he got there.

“no way, trent actually came to join in on the fun.” getting out of his car, he was instantly met with shock.

“don’t push it mate.” after an hour of just playing straight video games and snacking, trent was missing you bad. he excused him to go call you.

“hey babe, how’s it going?” seeing your face made him instantly smile.

“not bad. just beat all of them in mario kart though. i’m a professional.”

“i see you got a new hobby now.”

“yeah. i might stay another hour, but i do miss you a lot.”

unexpectedly, his friends all heard the last sentence.

“do you have a special someone on the other line?” he was shocked, he just turned off the phone without even hanging up.

“what are you on about?” acting dumb was not his speciality.

“said you missed someone, i wonder who.”

“just my mom. don’t overthink it.”

“you’ve been ditching us for the past 2 months to go see your mom? don’t lie trent, you’ve been talking to someone.” he was in a sticky situation. he had no more words to say.

“trent, are you in love? you’re turning red a little bit.” just the thought of you made him light up.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he touched the back of his head in nervousness.

“arnold is really in love.”

all of a sudden, you broke into a laugh which was heard in the silent room. that laugh was definitely not from his mother as they’ve met her before. trent cursed at himself for not hanging up as his friends demanded to meet you. the secret was finally out.

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

protector. ( chase davenport x reader )

You bumped into Chase on his first day, and he had stammered countless apologies, swiftly picking up your books and holding them to you with a smile. And from that moment on, Chase always paid attention to you during classes or in the hallways. Whenever you entered a room, he was immediately drawn to you, and it quickly became common for Leo and Adam to tease him about his attraction.

Bree had questioned him months later when you had been paired with Chase for a class project, but he had never made his feelings known. She knew Adam and Leo's remarks cut deeper than he would admit. So he never asked you out.

A year later, you were at your locker when Trent approached you, and you inwardly groaned when he leaned next to you, knowing he would ask you out again. And you would have to turn him down again.

But this time Trent was more persistent.

He took the books from your hand and you glared at him. "Give them back."

"Go out with me."

"No."

"Then I'll hang onto them for a while." He smirked.

"Trent, give them back!" You tried to take them back, but Trent held them out of your reach.

Chase walked out of the cafeteria with Adam and Leo, the latter drawing his attention to the situation. Chase walked over to your locker and stood next to you as he spoke to Trent.

"Give her the books."

Trent laughed, "Aw, the nerd has a soft spot for you. How adorable."

Your glare darkened, "Don't be a jerk."

"She is way out of your league short stack. Why don't you walk away before you get hurt, huh?"

Adam saw Chase's expression change and tightened his hold on his backpack. "Uh oh."

You gasped when Spike took over, grabbed Trents shirt, and pinned him against the lockers.

"No, you are going to get hurt, punk." He barked. "Give her the books or I turn you into a pretzel."

"Here! Here!"

You took the books and held them to your chest, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched Chase-now Spike, shoved Trent into the lockers.

"Chase, that's enough." You placed a hand on his bicep, drawing his attention.

For a moment his grip faltered, as if he was breaking through, but Spike wasn't done yet. He looked at Trent, who held his hands up, eyes wide as he glared at him. "If I see you troubling her again, I will hang you from the flagpole."

He shoved him aside, and Trent scrambled away. You watched him flee before looking at Chase who lowered his head, meeting your gaze moments later with regret and embarrassment. You opened your mouth to thank him when he dashed away, with Adam and Leo following close behind.

You had no shared classes after lunch period and you couldn't rest without thanking him for protecting you. So after stopping home, you went to the Davenport house, knocking on the door.

Tasha answered the door and let you inside to wait in the living room while Bree, who had been in the kitchen, headed to the lab to tell Chase you had arrived.

"Oooh, Chase, your girlfriend is here!" She grinned.

Chase immediately began to panic. Since arriving home he had hidden in the lab, trying to get his mind off the incident, while Adam and Leo teased him about you.

"Uh," He paced the floor, trying to think of an excuse. "Tell her I'm not here."

"Tasha already told her you're here," Bree said, pursing her lips when she saw how nervous he was about seeing you again, after avoiding you in the hallways for the rest of the school day. "She probably wants to thank you."

"Or tell me she thinks I'm a freak and never wants to see me again."

"You've shared classes with her for over a year, I think she already knows you're weird." Bree knew that the teasing from Adam, Leo, and herself hadn't helped his confidence and stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "She saw him and didn't freak out. I'd say she passed the test."

Chase thought back to the way he felt Spike weaken when you touched his arm, the look in your eyes taking away his anger, his need to protect you so strong that it was the only reason he couldn't hold him off completely.

Your eyes held no judgment then, and as he approached the sofa, meeting your gaze when you stood up, he couldn't see it now either.

"Hi."

"Hey." He held his hand up awkwardly.

"About today -"

"I'm really sorry for -"

"No, no, don't be." You moved closer, sending him a smile that eased the tension in his shoulders. "I came here to thank you. Trent has been bugging me for a while and I would've let you - what was it? Turn him into a pretzel?" Chase blushed, glancing at his feet. "I didn't want you getting in trouble because of me."

Chase lifted his gaze, your eyes locking, and you hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn't noticeable. He did. And it gave him the confidence he needed.

"Would you like to go on a date?" He asked, quickly adding, "With me."

Your smile grew as you nodded, "I'd love too."

His toothy grin took your breath away and you looked away before you could faint at the sight, picking up your bag off the sofa.

"I'd better head home. My mom will be expecting me."

Chase walked you to the door, and you stepped outside. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

You sent him a smile, "Definitely." You leaned in to kiss his cheek and he stood frozen, uttering a quiet 'Bye' as you walked away.

His lips slowly formed a large grin as he headed inside, closing the door. Tomorrow couldn't come around soon enough.

[pathetichimbos]

First Meeting - Part One

((part two here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

---

You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

You take another step, the heat of the steaming concrete seeping in through the soles of your shoes, making you cringe. Why you would ever choose to run away in the middle of July in blistering Texas was a mystery to all, and not even you could come up with a plausible excuse.

It's been well over a month since you up and left your home, the overbearing presence of your mother's alcoholism and your step father's compliance becoming too much to handle any longer, even if it meant heading out into the excruciating heat with nothing but the clothes on your back and the bag on your shoulder to your name.

The small amount of cash you spent months saving was slowly beginning to dwindle, the concept of southern hospitality apparently lost to most, given that almost everyone has expected some sort of something in exchange for letting you hitch a ride to a place they were already headed.

You let out a sigh, licking your chapped lips as your dirt stained jeans scrap against your legs with every step, the sun beating down against your shoulders harshly, making you wonder what exactly was keeping you from laying on the grass and giving in to the vultures watching you virtually waste away.

You continue your march forward, the quiet sound of an engine beginning to make its presence known behind you, making you turn to see a truck crossing the horizon.

You slow your pace, thumb sticking out as you watch the truck begin to slow its pace, coming to a stop beside you.

The back passenger door swings open, a young man already moving over to the middle seat as he calls out to you, "Come on in!"

"Thanks." You climb into the truck, shutting the door as the driver begins to pull off.

The truck itself was rather full, two people in the front and now, thanks to you, three in the back.

“Where ya headed?” The driver asks, the truck quickly gaining its speed again.

“Wherever.” You shrug, “Next gas station's fine by me.”

You sigh, the truck's shitty AC feeling like heaven as you lean against the seat, letting your aching body rest for a few moments.

"Can do!" The driver responds in a chipper tone, a mood most of the car's passengers seemed to share.

There were three boys and one girl in total, and over the course of the next few minutes, you learned their names.

Trent was driving, a loud younger man with a kind smile and a lack of smarts. His girlfriend, Katie, seemed to share similar traits, seatbelt forgotten at her side as she turned fully in the passenger seat to look at you while you chatted.

The two boys in the back were Kyle and Jessie, twins who seemed pleasant enough.

The conversation flow stays light and airy as the five of you chat about small things, while you do your best to guide the conversation away from yourself.

“So,” Jesse finally asks, “What are you doing, hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere?”

You shrug, glancing at the empty fields as they zoom past, the overgrown weeds and grass telling you that no one has owned any of this land in quite some time, "…Fresh start. Seeing the world from a new perspective."

“That sounds exciting!” Katie giggles, leaning against her seat as she faces you, her accent giving way that they aren't locals.

“I suppose so. Y'all are from Nebraska, right? What’s got y'all down this way?” You do your best to steer the conversation back to them.

“Trent has some family down this way we’re going to visit for graduation.” Katie smiles.

“Sounds fun.” You return her smile, turning back to the window.

You close your eyes as the rest of them continue talking, enjoying the slight breeze drifting from the front of the truck.

“Oh, look! There’s a gas station that way!” Katie's voice catches your attention as she points out a large red sign that reads:

‘Great BBQ

GAS TIRES CLOTHES’.

You sigh, your stomach clenching at the thought of food. The last people who gave you a ride were kind enough to give you a sandwich, but that was three days ago and your stomach was protesting this unintentional starving.

After a few minutes the truck comes to a stop and the five of you climb out. You stretch for a moment, weighing your options before deciding to head inside the small station, trying to see how far you could make your last few dollars stretch.

It was a dingy old station, for sure. The white paint peeling harshly under the unrelenting sun, the signs worn and tattered from years of exposure, the two measly pumps rusted and seemingly unused for at least a decade.

The four people behind you split up, the twins going to find a restroom while the couple follows you inside.

The inside was just as small as the outside looked, and didn't seem to fare much better. A checkout counter on the right and a deli counter to the left, made a skinny walkway to the small dining area, a few shelves of old products scattered about, none of it looking properly edible but all if it makes your stomach growl painfully.

An older woman stands behind the counter, leaning on it as she speaks to the sheriff on the other side, an older man as well, but not quite as old as her.

“Afternoon, sheriff, ma'am.” You greet them with a polite smile, stepping deeper into the small store.

“Afternoon.” The sheriff tilts his hat, sucking on the tobacco stuck behind his bottom lip before turning back to the woman, who simply gives you a nod in return.

Your eyes wander around the old, tattered building, miscellaneous decorations scattered about the walls,

You thought it to be a miracle that this place was up and running at all, given how desolate the town it resided in seemed to be.

As you look through the old coke cooler shoved in the corner, absent-mindedly listening to the couple make small talk with the sheriff and clerk, a thud echoes on the old, creaking wood, pulling your attention to the back of the store.

You take a few steps to the corner, peaking around it as you look for the source of the noise.

A man stands next to the open back door, stretching in front of a large stack of boxes as if he had just carried them in.

He doesn't pay you any mind as you stare for a few moments longer, not yet noticing you peeking around the corner.

He was tall, taller than most people, with wide shoulders and strong arms to match.

His long black curls hang to his shoulders, seemingly held down by some sort of straps wrapped around his head.

He finally turns, brown eyes catching yours as you realize you're staring. A heat rises to your cheeks as you glance away, feeling a bit embarrassed over being caught. After all, you had been living on the streets for almost two months now, and the dirt embedded in your clothes hid that fact just about as much as the tangles in your dirty hair did.

A low, aggravated huff catches your attention again, pulling you from your embarrassment as you glance back over. With this new angle you could see his face much more clearly, including the dark, seemingly handmade leather mask covering the bottom half of his face and nose.

He glares at the boxes in front of him, intense eyes seemingly annoyed, as if his frustration alone could make them move to the front of the store.

With a newfound sense of confidence, or perhaps foolishness, you take a small step from around the corner, curious eyes watching the stranger in front of you.

Tense, cautious eyes stare back at you as the man furrows his brows, watching you take another step closer.

"Hi…" You give a small smile, leaning back on the heels of your feet, hands wringing behind your back, "…My name's Y/N…"

He looks you up and down, as if trying to decide what to think about you, not saying a word.

Unsure what to do next, you nod towards the boxes, "…Need any help?"

His stare doesn't break, only shifting to one of confusion as he contemplates your question.

…No one ever offered to help him. In fact, most people looked to him for help. So, why the hell were you offering?

A beat of silence passes and you shrug, "I mean, it just seems like a lot for one person to carry, and I've got nothing better to do…" Another beat passes and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, bothering this poor man and distracting him from his work, "…Not that I don't think you can't handle it or anything, I just thought I'd offer in case it was--"

"Thomas!" A voice stops you in your tracks, causing both of you to look back to the sheriff who was now staring the two of you down, "Have you finished carryin' them boxes in here?"

He shakes his head.

"Then quit your yappin' and get to it!"

Thomas sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly, a weary look on his face as he turns to walk back outside to the sheriff's car parked out back.

"Here, let me…" You offer again, this time grabbing a box off the top of the pile, "It goes to the front counter, right?"

Thomas looks back to you, the confused look still lingering in his eyes as he nods.

You give another small smile over the heavy box, arms straining as you lug it up to the front of the store. The sheriff and clerk pay you no mind as they continue talking with the couple, though the conversation seemed mostly one sided at this point, with the clerk paying more attention to her newly lit cigarette than the couple.

"No, see, that roads been closed for the time bein'." You hear the sheriff explain in his heavy southern accent as you drop the box on the counter behind him, "Kept havin' folks lose bumpers and blow tires and what not on all them damn potholes."

"Is there an another way to get there then?" Trent asks, obvious disappointment in his voice from finding out their planned route was no longer available.

"Well, sure. I can show you the way." He turns back to the clerk, "Hand me that map, Mama.

The rest of the conversation falls into the background as you walk to the back again, picking up another box and seeing Thomas had brought in two more.

You huff a little, pushing the limits of your weakened arms as you try to lift two boxes.

You manage to drag them to the front of the store, this time electing to leave them beside the counter rather than on top with the first one.

"…And after you pass the old meat factory right here, you'll take the second left and hit the highway again." The sheriff's directions fade back into earshot as you huff again, your lack of food leaving your muscles especially weak against the heft of the boxes.

The tingle in your forearms slowly begins to subside as you turn to walk back for another, only to see Thomas carrying the last of the four boxes as if they were made of air.

Your eyes follow him as he sets the boxes on the counter before picking up the two you had left on the floor as well, dropping them next to the others.

You let out a small huff of laughter at his pure strength, watching the originally closed off and curt clerk soften as she thanks Thomas for carrying the boxes for her.

Meanwhile the sheriff waves off the couple, the honk of the truck horn echoing through the thin walls as the twins become impatient with their friends taking too long. The couple thanks him profusely, hurrying out of the store as they rush to join their friends and get back on the road.

The older man watches through the dusty screen door as the group sets off, letting out a low chuckle as he seemingly forgets your existence, "The Lord's lookin' out for us today, Mama. Tell Tommy to get his ass to the house!"

You blink in confusion as the sheriff rushes past the two of you, the clerk quickly yelling after him, “Damnit Hoyt, the boy's right here--”

He ignores her as well, slamming the back door shut before you could hear the loud squeal of spinning tires set off onto the highway.

She huffs from behind the counter, obviously annoyed with the sheriff's antics, “You better head on home, Thomas, Lord knows he'll make it everyone's problem if he makes it there before you do.”

Thomas sighs and nods his head, already heading to the front door.

You watch as he leaves, the creak of the old screen door screeching through the otherwise quiet store.

"You gonna buy somethin' or stand there with an empty head all day?" The clerk asks, pulling you back to reality as she raises an eyebrow through her thick glasses.

You blink for a second, "Oh, uh, yes ma'am."

You turn back to the small selection, grabbing a couple of snacks and a bottle of water from the cooler,

You set them on the counter, digging through your bag and pulling out a couple of ones.

"Ain't got no change." She takes the crumbled bills, smoothing them out as she opens her register.

"That's fine…" You sigh, deciding losing a few extra coins was worth it to get some food in your system.

She shuts the metal drawer with a bit of force as you thank her, shoving everything into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and heading out into the Texas heat once again.

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Late again

Summary: To work at AXA training centre has its advantages when you get to work with your boyfriend, but what happens when people starts noticing what's happening behind the scenes?

Angst & Fluff

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You and Trent try not to take your relationship with you to work, but sometimes it just doesn’t work. Not too many of his teammates knows you’re together, but today everyone in the building will notice. You just don’t know it yet.

“I don’t understand why you’re lying to me” Trent said, as you changed into your branded Liverpool clothes.

“Oh my days, you have some serious trust issues Trent” You answered.

“Oh and you have not?” He responded and started to get ready to leave.

“I was literally at the gym! And you know that so I don’t get why we’re having this discussion” You defended as Trent walked down the stairs and you trailed after him.

“Whatever, you can say what you want. We’re leaving” He ended and closed the door.

You tried not to break down in tears, but you were so tired of hearing Trent’s overthinking get the best of him. It’s always been like that, he’s been insecure about you meeting other guys when you’re out or at the gym.

You walked outside and got into the car, and you could see that Trent was still frustrated.

“Trent, you can trust me” You spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He hummed in response, but he was still upset.

“Trent?” You repeated and he sighed.

“Please Y/n just be quiet because everything you’re saying right now is bullshit” Trent snapped, you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You laughed at the same time as tears were escaping your eyes.

“What’s so funny?” He scoffed and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re not thinking straight, that what’s funny” You argued and Trent looked at his watch, noticing that the two of you were late to the morning meeting.

“Fuck, we’re late” He huffed and you panicked, it’s not the first time you two are late. The reason mainly is because of your fighting all the time, which is sadly becoming into a routine. You two always work out at the end of the day and you don’t know how you and Trent manage to do it. It’s not that it’s an toxic relationship between the two of you, it’s just you have two different minds with different thoughts and emotions.

Eventually you arrived and got into the building as fast as you could.

“Don’t make a mess in front of everyone” Trent said quietly, as you were walking down the corridor towards the briefing room.

“I won’t” You blustered and as you got closer to the room you could hear the players cheering “Ooooooh” and when you and Trent walked in they all laughed.

“Look at her eyes, they’ve been fighting again her and Trent” Dominik pointed out and looked at Curtis who sat next to him.

You forced a smile to all the players and went to sat down at the front of the room with all the other staff.

You were pretty sure that everyone heard you arguing in the corridor, and you tried to forget about it all. After the meeting the players went to get breakfast and you did some paperwork. As you were in the office you heard a knock at the door and the person who entered the room was Klopp. You took a deep breath and feared the worst, is he going to fire you?

“Hi Y/n, can I have a word?” He said and sat down.

“Yeah of course gaffer” You smiled and put your work aside.

“How’s Trent?” He began.

“I know you two are pretty close, just wanted to check” Klopp continued as you started to figure out what you were going to answer.

“He’s a little bit stressed, that’s all” You explained and he nodded.

“And you?” Klopp asked as you knew probably all the people in the room before saw you teary eyed.

“I’m alright, tough morning today” You responded with honesty.

“You and Mr Alexander-Arnold need to learn the clock better!” Klopp laughed and you laughed with him because it was accurate.

-

Trent POV

Trent couldn’t deny his guilt for treating you like he has lately. All Dominik heard from Trent the entire training session was how he felt about the fight you two had.

“I think you should apologise bro” Dominik said to Trent in the dressing room.

“I will, see you tomorrow” Trent told him and left the dressing room.

-

You saw Trent walking towards you and figured that it’s time to go home. You walked beside each other, you didn’t say a word to him. But your hand were entwined with his as you walked to his car. He stopped you before you entered the car and met your tired eyes.

“Y/n listen, I know like you said I’ve not been thinking straight. It’s just that I’m afraid to lose you, maybe that’s a bad excuse but it’s how I feel” Trent expressed, and it really sounded like it was coming from his heart. But if he continues to act like he does in fights, perhaps he’ll lose you in the end.

You gave kissed his lips, as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, I love you so” He said and nuzzled his head into your neck.

“It’s okay T” You comforted and rubbed his back.

“Trent, I think there’s someone watching us” You whispered and Trent lifted his head up to see that it was Dominik smiling at the both of you.

“Get a room!” Dominik said and you both laughed.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Thanks for reading! 💕

[jsprnt]

a date at the local spring fair seems to bloom your situationship into a relationship

trent alexander-arnold x reader

A/N: based on this request! Also been dyinggg to go to my local fair, so I immediately came up with this idea!! 🫶🫶 (does this photo of trent not make you weak in the knees?? 😭)

W/C: 1.804

your eyes dart to your phone screen again, reading the last text message your date sent you. he said he’d be there in a minute, so you shove your phone back into your jacket.

the fair isn’t very busy today, most likely due to it being a weekday. the weather had started picking up these past few days. gloomy, rainy winter days replaced with sunny, warm spring days.

you’d missed seeing the blue sky and the pretty, colorful flowers in the park. you had noticed most people were much happier and of course, just like the little lambs being born, symbolizing a new life- your own life seemed to also flicker to another chapter.

you and trent have known each other for a couple of months now. first meeting through a mutual friend at a small, intimate party on a rainy november night. you hadn’t thought much of it at first. of course- he was handsome, and that wasn’t something you could look away from.

you knew who he was, as a football player for one of the world’s best clubs- you’d assumed he would be too busy interacting with other people to notice you.

obviously, you also were too busy speaking to the people you did know. until- one of your mutual friends had introduced him to you.

unbeknownst to you, he’d been eyeing you across the room since he’d caught sight of the pretty smile you’d flash your friend when they said something funny. at first glance, he had almost choked on his unnecessarily expensive tequila, it burning horribly in the back of his throat.

he barely recovered from the shock before one of his best mates had dragged him across the venue, insisting he’d talk to you. only, because he thought ‘you two would be a great couple’.

you were caught off guard at first, but the looks your friends were sending you- had given you enough courage to speak to him without being flustered.

you two only hung out more after that night, accepting frequent invites to his games, and random visits to each other’s place, which only increased when trent got injured.

you look up at the shout of your name, turning around to see trent walk up to you. he’s dressed nicely as usual, comfy enough for all the rides and games you’d planned to play.

“hi!” you beam, greeted by his pearly white smile. his lips turned up when he makes eye contact with you.

“hey, you alright?” he asks, his scouser accent familiar as he gives you a warm hug. you bury your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, smelling his signature cologne.

“I’m fine, how ‘bout you and your knee?” you question, knowing that he didn’t have to wear a brace anymore.

“better, I can walk properly- at least..” he replies, the both of you starting to walk past the various games and food trucks.

it doesn’t take long before you’re both immersed into the money-grabbing games available. from popping balloons with darts to a donut-eating contest. which you won, that left you with powdered sugar all over the corners of your mouth. prompting trent to gently wipe the sugary product off with his thumb and a raised heartbeat he had difficulty controlling.

“let’s try that roller coaster over there..” you suggest, pointing up to the least intimidating one.

“you don’t want to go in the one that goes upside down?” he asks, pressing the bunny plushie you had won into his chest. you hold back a chuckle at the sight, shaking your head.

“nope, don’t trust going upside down on a rollercoaster that’s practically been pulled out of a suitcase..” you state, lining up with him so you can get on the attraction.

he chuckles at your explanation, glancing at your impatient expression. thankfully, it’s your turn after a few minutes. you both strap in safely, making sure the bars are as tight as possible against your chest and stomach.

“aren’t you scared?” he asks, looking at your giddy expression. you shake your head almost immediately, making sure your pockets are zipped so your phone won’t fall out.

soon, the cart you’re in slowly starts rolling up. your breath hitches in excitement, wind starting to blow into your faces. you glance at trent, who’s sporting a less excited expression, so you shout in excitement when the cart drops and goes up multiple times. hoping your happiness will be infectious and cheer him up.

it works! the couple of looks you sneak, tell you he was pretty satisfied, cheering and shouting along with you.

you take a deep breath when the cart stops. the both of you slightly dizzy when you step out.

“you liked that one?” you ask, fixing your jacket as you both start walking away, walking past other attractions.

“i did! i was nervous for a moment, won’t lie..” he replies, scouser accent thick and laced with excitement.

“good, I’m glad you liked it- oh look!” you suddenly exclaim. pointing to the haunted house, fake skeletons, and more ‘scary’ props used to decorate the entrance.

“you want to go inside?” trent asks, raising a brow at you. he wasn’t aware that you were such an adrenaline junkie, or were you?

“yes, let’s go!” you urge, paying the entrance fee, and stepping inside. the bunny plushie now pressed into your side as you both start walking into the dark maze.

“i can’t see anything..” you murmur, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. your arm grazes trent’s, which in turn makes your breath hitch. your temperature rises, despite the coldness of the room you’re in.

“me neither..” you hear trent mutter, he glances at you in the dark. your arms touching each other every now and then. the numerous fake spiderwebs and bone-chilling moving skulls making you freeze up often.

entering another room, you’re immediately greeted by a zombie. the special effects props and makeup, too good not to jump and scream.

“shit!” you exclaim, back pressing against trent’s chest when you take a step back.

“what the fuck!” you hear the scouser shout against your ear. it hurts for a moment, but you’re too focused on the zombie trying to get close to you to care about it.

you feel strong hands grab at your jacket. instinctively you know it’s trent, so you keep scuffling forward. trying your best to ignore the groaning and gurgling sounds coming from the too-talented actor.

walking through the empty hall, you look at him, his grip on your jacket loosening.

“you’re such a coward..” you accuse, laughing when remembering how he shouted in fear.

“you’re the one who yelled first..” he retorts, and you can make out a smirk on his face.

“here, take my hand.” he offers, holding his hand out. which you can only see because of the green lights strung along the dusty hallway.

your heart skips a beat or two, stopping you in your tracks. you feel your face heat up, and you’re glad he can’t fully make out your dumbfounded expression in the dark. you quickly shove away that lovesick feeling, trying to compose yourself.

“that’s a really weird way to propose, but okay..” you tease, your fingers intertwining with trent’s. knowing you’d probably made him more dazzled than he made you flustered.

“wait, no- i meant-" he stutters, mind going totally foggy as he forgets how to form a proper sentence in his state. you hold back a smile, knowing his brain was probably running kilometers an hour.

“wait, did you say you’d marry me?” he suddenly questions, face contouring into confusion and a dumbstruck expression.

“uh, no?” you feign your upmost innocence, thumb grazing his knuckles. a sweet, comforting touch, but it only makes the short circuit in his brain worse.

you smirk to yourself, carefully dragging him along. mindful of his injury as your hearts beat in unison, like electric sparks flying off the pads of your fingers.

the hold on each other’s hands only gets tighter, until the last jumpscare. this time, your entire front is pressed against his back, it scaring you a bit too much. you thought the cackling clown was the end of the attraction.

you catch your breath when you finally step outside, trent’s hand on your back. soothing rubs helping you calm down faster.

“why- why would they think using a knife prop was a good idea?” you pant, questioning if the ten-pound entrance fee was worth it.

trent squeezes into your hand, reassuring you with his touch. “you’re good, it’s all fake- remember?” he rationalizes your thoughts, slowly pulling you away to the food trucks.

he sits you down on a small wooden bench and table, eyes roaming on your face to check up on you.

“are you alright?” he asks, face inching closer to yours. his breath hitting your lips.

“I’m fine, really..” you reassure, squeezing into the plushy for comfort.

“let’s have something to eat, then we’ll get on the ferris wheel. is that okay?” he asks, voice patient and sweet. the kindness in his expression and words cheers you up a bit. so, you smile, nodding in agreement.

“i’ve heard that they have really nice tacos. want to try?” he suggests, glancing up at the food truck in question.

“sure, let’s try them.” you answer, he nods walking away to order and collect your food. he comes back fairly quickly, placing the delicious and warm tacos on the table. not to forget, the extra cups of guacamole, lime and sour cream.

“eat up before they get cold..” he says, the both of you digging into your food and drink of choice. a comfortable silence ensues, with soft hums and small comments made in delight.

“i love fair food..” you hum, taking the last few sips of your drink. trent nods in agreement, leaning over to wipe some of the sour cream off your lip.

you pause your movements at the action, eyes darting to his brown ones. his touch is delicate and careful, and he folds the napkin after pulling away.

“there, all clean..” he mutters, cleaning the table off and coming back from the recycling bin.

“do you want to go on the ferris wheel now? it’s getting dark, and the view will be nice..” he asks, unconsciously holding his hand out for you to hold.

you nod excitedly, clutching onto his warm hand as you both make your way to the ferris wheel. your bodies touching as you lean them against each other, waiting in line for the last attraction of the night.

it’s imminent that a sweet first kiss will be shared, right? a flicker to the next chapter of your life. the city lights witnessing a love blooming like a patch of yellow daffodils in spring.

[cantstoptheimagines]

Attachments (Jamie Tartt | Ted Lasso)

Summary — When it came to having a one-night stand with Jamie, you expected to be nothing more than an additional notch on his belt. Unbeknownst to you, he had other plans. 

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Walnut Mist Jamie; coworkers to lovers; a touch of idiots in love (mostly on the Reader’s part); friendly teasing from the Diamond Dogs; references to sex, but no actual smut.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 1,038. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule 

You weren’t entirely sure what to do.

The way Jamie’s hand slowly traveled over your lower back sent butterflies throughout your stomach. You had woken up to find yourself wrapped in his soft linen sheets, limbs tangled up in his blanket with your face squished against a pillow.

Lying on your stomach, you admired him with a tired gaze. He was on his back next to you, eyes closed and blissfully unaware that you were no longer asleep. One hand rested on his stomach while the other continued creating patterns against your bare skin.

The gentle feeling nearly lulled you back to sleep. Jamie’s scent was overwhelming your thoughts. His bedding smelled of his favorite cologne. If it hadn’t been for his alarm, you would’ve felt as though you were drifting into a second heaven. 

You quickly closed your eyes, not ready for the conversation Jamie might want to have about the previous night. Next to you, he turned off his alarm and let out a deep groan. You could hear every movement he made, thinking you were still dreaming peacefully without a care in the world.

He shifted closer until you could feel his skin against yours. His warmth surrounded you in an instant. He hovered over you with an arm on either side, balancing on his elbows. His chest was almost flush against your back. It took everything within you to not let out a surprised squeal. 

His lips gently grazed your forehead, then your temple, then your cheek in a series of sweet kisses. He nosed at your skin before taking in the scent of your shampoo. You could feel him smile against your cheek before another kiss was layered there.

His affections traveled to your shoulders. He pushed himself closer. You tried not to smile at the feeling of him. His lips left a warm trail of open-mouthed kisses from your left shoulder to the right. 

Finally, after one last kiss landed against your back, Jamie shifted away from you. The blankets rustled and, without him, you suddenly felt cold.

Opening your eyes once again, you admired the way the muscles in his back flexed with every tired stretch as he made his way to the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of water falling from the showerhead echoed through the open door. 

With the knowledge that Jamie wouldn’t be back for at least a few minutes, you reluctantly shuffled out his bed. Within moments, your clothes were on and you were disappearing without so much as a goodbye. 

You were busy sorting through some papers for Ted when Jamie slipped into your office. In an instant, you regretted choosing the workspace that was connected to that of the main coaches’, mostly due to the glass windows that allowed them to see everything. 

As Jamie closed the door behind him, you could see several of your colleagues looking at one another curiously. It was the worst time for them to be having one of their Diamond Dog meetings. Not only would you be questioned by Ted and Beard, but potentially by Roy, Trent, and Higgins as well.

“Hey.”

Your eyes fluttered from your nosy coworkers to Jamie. He offered a bright smile, pushing back his hair with a black sports headband. He had already changed into his kit for practice. You leaned back against the front of your desk, waiting for him to carry the conversation.

“Missed you this morning,” he said, “wanted to tell ya goodbye. I was gonna make breakfast too, but you’d already gone, so...”

His voice trailed off, unsure of what else he should say. Your suddenly quiet demeanor was throwing him off. He thought about everything he could’ve done to make you upset, but came up empty-handed. 

“I had to go home and get ready for work,” you replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh,” he nodded understandingly. “Well then, how about tonight? I’ll take ya out for dinner to make it up, alright?” 

You blinked in surprise, “Jamie, you don’t have to do that. I mean, what we did last night was just a one-time thing.” 

“It was?” 

Within seconds, Jamie looked like a puppy who had just gotten treats taken away. His eyes dimmed and his smile fell, “I see.” 

“Wasn’t it?” 

Jamie shrugged. Your office had gone silent, save for the sounds of his boots shuffling awkwardly against the carpet. Through the glass, you could see Ted’s eyes going between the two of you. 

“Don’t know,” muttered Jamie, finally breaking the long silence. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while. I kinda stopped all that one-night stand stuff, I guess.”

“Really?” you breathed, taken aback by his admission. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hands fiddling with the hem of his jersey. “Look, I really like ya, but if this isn’t something—” 

Panic built up within your chest. You hadn’t expected his desire to see you outside of his bedroom. Before he could break things off, you cut him off, “Pick me up tonight. We can go to Ola’s.” 

His expression returned to its brighter self, “You’re serious?” 

Heat rose beneath your skin when he grinned after receiving a nod in response. Quick as ever, Jamie moved closer. His proximity almost made you forget about the watchful eyes of the Diamond Dogs.

Once he was close enough, Jamie placed his hands on your cheeks. You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned in to gently kiss your forehead. After giving you a tight hug as well, Jamie left your office with a skip in his step, leaving the door open as he returned to the locker room. 

“So...”

You met the stares and poorly hidden grins of your colleagues, aside from Roy, of course. Ted, as usual, was the one who had spoken up first. He bounced excitedly in his seat.

With a teasing tone, Ted completed his thought, “You and Jamie, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip in an effort to conceal a smile. Each of them began pursing their lips, dramatically kissing the air. This time, much to your surprise, Roy joined in. You scoffed at their antics, wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into by agreeing to a date with Richmond’s star striker.

[judeslove]

but why?

pairing - jude bellingham x trents sibling!reader genre - fluff, slight angst i guess, dating brothers bestfriend warnings - cursing, petnames (babe, etc), intended lowercase summary - trent does not approve you dating jude

when you met jude, your brothers bestfriend, it was like love at first sight. sure, it was wrong, but something about him just drew you closer and closer, like he has placed some type of spell on you.

trent told jude way too many times that his only sister is off limits. yet jude couldn’t help but mirror the same feelings you felt towards him.

today he was coming over. you were nervous, since your and judes relationship was fresh. trent didn’t know, and it‘s not like he had to know, you just couldn’t make it too obvious.

“yo bro nice to see again” you saw trent greet his friend, or “g” as he likes to say. they eventually made their way upstairs, jude sneaking you a little wink when your brother wasn’t looking.

the night went fast. jude texted you asking to meet up in the bathroom.

you heard jude excuse himself to the bathroom and you left shortly after.

“hi baby” he greeted you smiling, showcasing his gorgeous smile.

“hey” you said as you wrapped you hands around him and pecking him lips after the door was closed.

“missed you” jude mumbled in your hair while hugging your figure. “me too, i wish trent would accept us” you agreed as you dug your head deeper into his chest.

little did you guys know, the door wasn’t actually locked. a while after trent decided to go check why jude was taking so long. upon seeing the bathroom unlocked, he decided to open the door.

“now what the actual fuck is going on here?” trent asked, absolutely fuming like you said. panic washed over you as you froze, not knowing what to do.

“trent it is not what it looks like i swear”jude tried to help the situation but was cut off by trent, who angrily stared at you both.

“jude, i’m not mad, or i perhaps am, but i am just mostly so fucking disappointed in you. why the hell are you doing this when i said she was off limits? are you fucking deaf or something?” trent rambled, disappointed in his bestfriend. you saw jude worry about his relationship with his bestfriend, how his eyebrows turned upwards and mouth into a frown.

“look man, i’m sorry. it’s just that we both have genuine feelings for each other. i can help it” jude looked down, embarrassed.

“yeah, can’t we just be together?” you asked trent, practically begging him.

trent debated for a few minutes, until he finally decided to speak up.

“fine, but if you hurt my sister, you wont see the light of day anymore” trent threatened jude.

“yeah bro, i’d never do that” jude said while doing a pinky swear with your brother.

💌 judeslove on tumblr.

[lomltrentarnold]

i think you’re pretty — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

🍓 hana’s notes: in ma feels again (shocker) haven’t written anything in a while so please be nice <3

disclaimers: lil drabble, cliffhanger (you have been warned!) reader is a little insecure, but reader can pull girls and guys, childhood bestfriends my beloved trope 🫶 || main masterlist

“Wait, actually? You don’t think people think you’re pretty?”

You don’t even know how the conversation ended up on this topic. Sitting at the balcony catching up with Trent after you moved away. Now, he’s a big shot footballer and you’re working to get your degree.

Fifteen year old you guys would be proud.

You shook your head, it's not a new thought for you, “Nah, but that’s okay though. I think I’m pretty, but I don’t know if I am someone’s hallway crush or people just look at me and think — Wow, pretty.”

This is the type of stuff that you only spill on your diary, but it’s Trent, and he knows more about you than you do yourself.

It’s not something new you have come to terms with, after seeing most of your friends' getting crushes, getting hit on, going on dates and having relationships except you, you have made peace with it.

Trent’s forehead creases, as if the statement offended him more than you, “That’s crazy, tha’” Trent could not believe what you just said. You? Not pretty? Are you insane?

Turning your head to face him, you warmly smiled, “Don’t pretend, T.” and when you look at Trent, taking in his features, now this is pretty. “You’re pretty. People think you’re pretty.”

You didn’t know why you decided to say that. Maybe because the moonlight illuminates his skin and eyes, making him shine a little bit brighter. Butterflies swarm your belly, as your hand sweats.

Trent’s cheeks went warm, he thinks he’s the luckiest person ever to get compliment from you. His heart aches for you, but he decided to focus on the task at hand first.

"That's stupid." he spat out, making your eyebrows shoot up.

You lightly chuckled, "Excuse you? I just gave you a compliment."

"Not that." he sighed, turning his body around so that it would be face to face with yours. You noticed the disturbed look in his eyes, as you straightened your back before meeting his gaze.

"It's not that serious T, I'm fine." you assured him, an awkward laugh bubbling out. This took a serious turn, and you have no idea why.

"Do you remember James? In 8th grade?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "The one that gave me chocolate? Yeah, what about him?"

He took a deep breath, "He said, and I quote, that when you laugh, he can honestly melt because you look so pretty.”

"We were kids, sometimes kids just say stuff-"

"And I agreed with him, and I said that making you laugh is probably one of the most rewarding things I can do because I love seeing you smile so much. You look so pretty when you laugh like nobody's around."

Your heart stuttered, but before you said anything else he continued, "And remember the girl that you worked with at the cafe down the road? The one with curly hair?"

You nodded your head.

"When I was waiting for you to finish your shift, she noticed how much I was looking at you, and she said that she gets it, and that it's sometimes hard to focus on making the drinks because you would look so pretty smiling while taking people's orders."

You cleared your throat, “That’s- That’s very nice of her.” avoiding the words that makes you question you and Trent’s friendship.

His tongue pokes out to lick his lips, making your eyes focus on it, “Sometimes I look at you and I go blank because of how pretty you are.”

What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Your eyes searched for his, but he pointedly avoided it, choosing to stare down on his hands.

After finishing the story, Trent bellowed out a laugh, "You know how many people ask me for your number because they think that you're pretty?" he paused, "But they backed away because they 'know' that you're already someone's because of how I look at you."

Your mouth gaped open and close like a fish, slowly processing everything that he's telling you. "What?"

"They said that I look at you like I was smitten. Like I was in love." you were sure your pulse stopped for a second, hearing the guy that you had a crush on for years saying stuff you hear in songs.

Trent’s mouth was faster than his brain, he really should have stopped talking, but he couldn't. All of his words were all vomiting out of his mouth. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"And then I said that if I was going to fall in love with anyone that I'd want it to be you."

hehe love yall <3

[leviscolwill]

7. "if you win, i'll kiss you" with trent!!!!! 😩😩 bc we know he’s a competitive son of a bitch <333

congrats again on 600 baby! 🫶

- @lomltrentarnold 🪽

so come here and give me some kisses ★

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

note: thank u soooooo much for your request my lovely hana,, i hope u like it, i love writing competitive trent 🤭

this blurb was inspired by this video <3

now playing six thirty by ariana grande...

your relationship with trent was ambiguous to say the least. you liked him, well it was hard not to. and you knew he liked you too. hell, everyone at st george's park knew you liked each other. but he had yet to make any concrete move towards you.

trent was standing in front of you, getting mic-ed up for another pr video. they were never his favorites, but if he had a chance to beat his teammates, he'd always take it.

while you were polishing up the last details before filming with your colleagues, you shot a quick glance at trent looking oh so adorable in his apron. he walked towards you and rested his chin on your shoulder, giving you a quick smile.

“you know you're never winning this one right?” you told him in a cheeky tone with the sole purpose of riling him up. you knew just how competitive he could get, even with something as trivial as a bake off opposing him to hendo, dec and kieran.

“are you doubting my baking skills right now, love?” his accent thick and sassiness dripping from his voice.

“oh no, i wouldn't dare. ‘m just saying dec has a much better shot at winning than you.” you wouldn't trust declan with your kitchen even if your life depended on it, too scared you'd lose your whole flat in a house fire. but the sight of trent, chuckling to himself at your words was enough to spur you on.

he was a confident man, confident enough to know you didn't mean a word you said. also confident enough in his baking skills to know that he’ll win no matter what. but your teasing made the gears in his brain spin faster. “what do i get if i prove you wrong and win then?”

you took a quick look around to: 1. escape trent's face that seemed to get closer to yours by the second, 2. check if any of your colleagues caught up on the somewhat intimate moment you were sharing, only to find out they all left to do whatever they needed to do.

you thought a few seconds of what to tell him before an idea popped in your head. it might seem too bold, but truthfully you were sick of waiting for trent to make a move on you. “mmmhh...” you pretended to think for a couple seconds, “if you win this, i'll kiss you.”

trent looked stunt at your proposal, his brown eyes looking even wider than usual. “yeah! i mean, are you sure?” as much as he tried to keep up a façade, you could see right through his false confidence. the skin of his ears turning into a reddish tone and his eyes looking anywhere but in yours.

you quickly nod, before pecking his cheek. trent didn't get the time to fully register your action, you were already gone god knows where.

the next time your eyes meet, you were standing behind the camera with the rest of the communication team. trent was torn between exchanging knowing glances and smiles with you or focusing on baking his gingerbread man. he chooses the latter, well aware of the reward awaiting him when he'll win.

after some more baking, the results were in. and you could feel trent's stare on you while he was waiting expectantly for his name to be called as the winner.

and once it inevitably happened, trent locked eyes with you in a stare that could only mean one thing: ‘i told you, you know what happens now’.

your name was called and you had to leave before trent was done wrapping up the video. this gave you time to mentally prepare yourself, you didn't regret your impulsive bet but you were overthinking everything that might go wrong.

in the midst of your turmoil, two hands gripped your shoulders making you turn in surprise. you weren't too surprised to see trent behind you, you gave him a warm smile before making sure none of your colleagues were in sight.

“i told you i'd win.” his face was still glowing from his earlier triumph.

you reciprocated the smile on his face, meeting his deep brown eyes. “i know... i knew you'd win this.” you let your hand wander over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body slowly taking over yours.

“i thought we had a deal...” trent's voice brought you out of your daydream. your movement suddenly stopped to look up at him.

you didn't give him a verbal answer, choosing to stand on your tippy toes before pressing your lips against his. you felt his lips turn into a smile against yours, before kissing you back with more passion than words could ever hold. his hands cupping your face to bring you even closer if that was possible, not ready to let go of you just yet.

once he did pull away, he looked at you with admiration sparkling in his eyes. his thumb stroked your cheek softly, while you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. what did this kiss mean for the two of you? were things going to be weird now? could you even kiss a player without consequ-

“so, i think the next step should be me asking you out?”

[thegainingdesk]

Regret

Vidhur couldn't pull his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror. The face he saw was familiar, for the most part - the same floppy hair stylishly quaffed, the same dark, playful eyes, framed by long, almost girlish eyelashes, the same long, thin nose, the same perfect, straight, white teeth. He'd even gotten used to the small gut that had recently become a permanent fixture on his previously athletic frame. But he couldn't take his eyes off of his jawline.

Vid knew, logically, he'd get a double chin sooner or later, that his face would change as he put on weight. Seeing it though, in the bright, unforgiving lights of the Weatherspoons loos, was quite another matter.

He should, he knew, be excited. Another external sign of the weight he was putting on, another gainer milestone ticked off, another change to his growing body to wank to later. But god, didn't he used to be so handsome? His sharp jawline, his cheekbones - he didn't expect them to get buried so quickly. He told himself it was the bad lighting, puffiness from the alcohol, he'd had a salty lunch. But he knew, this was his face now. He’d seen it coming for a while, ignored the changes in favour of focussing on the soft curve forming at his middle.

“What you doing then?”

Vid was snapped out of his reverie as his mate Trent walked in. He shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing. Sorry, just thinking.”

“Fuuuck mate,” Trent groaned. “Can't be doing that. That's what the beer’s for. Here, you need to go get yourself another one if you're starting to do shit like thinking.”

Vid laughed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I suppose you want one as well do you? Here, you fancy ordering some food?”

-

“Fuck!” Vidhur snapped, as he let go of the two sides of his waistband, and let his gut once again push them apart. He'd been struggling with them for five minutes now, sucked in his belly as far as it would go, tried to do them up lying down, tried yanking them suddenly, coaxing them slowly, but nothing would convince the two sides of the fabric to meet.

Vid looked down at the jeans lying crumpled on the floor. His boss would bollock him, he knew, if he turned up looking so casual. Maybe if he wore a jacket with them? No, his office was notorious for keeping up appearances, and besides, he didn't want to look like Jeremy Clarkson. He could stop off and buy some smart trousers before work? At that point, it was a choice between turning up on time wearing jeans or arriving properly dressed but late. Neither option seemed viable. He could hold his trousers together with a safety pin, maybe, and hide it with a belt? Not that he owned any safety pins, or realistically believed that worked outside of weight gain stories.

He sat down on his bed and sighed into his hands. He’d only bought a whole new wardrobe of 38-inch trousers and extra large shirts just over a month ago, and despite them becoming increasingly tight and pinching in the past couple of weeks, he’d managed to convince himself that they'd last him a little while at least. Unfortunately, he'd found his most recent growth particularly thrilling, and it had spurred him into some rather spectacular feats of gluttony, leading him into a rather vicious cycle of growth inspiring ever faster growth. Last Thursday he'd spent the whole day at work frantically itching his fleshy sides, only to see bright red lines there when he got undressed at home later that night. The revelation had pushed him into a weekend of unbridled gluttony, his uncomfortably swollen gut only adding to his sexual fervour and willing him on to stuff himself even more.

Vid didn't know whether to be thrilled with the effects of the weekend’s feasting, or horrified. He couldn't really need the next size of trousers up already, could he? But the evidence was right in front of him, straining around his waist, thighs and arse. This was getting out of control. Yes, he found fat guys hot, yes, he wanted to experience it for himself, but his little experiment was supposed to be twenty, maybe thirty pounds at most. Now here he was, 255 pounds, checking to see if Next had any 40-inch trousers in stock, and a couple of 42-inch just to be safe, wondering how long it would be until he needed new shirts as well. Was he even attracted to guys this big? He was bigger than even his university boyfriend Hamish had gotten all those years ago. No, he'd look at gym memberships this afternoon, this had all gone far enough.

Still though, he might as well get some McDonald’s breakfast while he was out. He didn't have to lose all the weight.

Vid picked up his phone. “Ellis? Yeah, hi, I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to work from home today. Yeah, a burst pipe, sorry.”

-

“Did you see his shirt today?” Vid heard Harriet-from-finance ask in a hushed tone.

“Stop!” came Liam-from-reception’s laughing reply. “I thought it was about the burst off of him!”

Vidhur stopped outside the break room and looked down at his shirt, which was notably straining around his gut. He had, he knew, outgrown 2XLs a while ago, but work had been so hectic that he'd not had time, or at least that's what he told himself. At weekends he was so preoccupied with stuffing himself, with pushing himself to beat personal challenges and records, and left in such a stupor afterwards, that he forgot everything else he needed to do. He had, at least, hoped that it wasn't quite so noticeable, and had thrown on a tie and cardigan in an effort to hide some of the worst of it.

He also, quietly, hoped that maybe this was as big as he'd ever get. That 2XL would be the biggest he'd ever see on a clothes tag. He knew that it made no sense, that his constant gorging guaranteed his continued growth, that he was already in dire need of some 3XLs, that every attempt he'd made to curb his growth had resulted in abject failure. Still though, he really hadn't wanted to get this big, honest.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Liam’s voice asked.

“You may in fact tell me nothing else,” Harriet’s voice replied.

“I actually used to fancy him,” Liam whispered.

Vid heard Harriet scream. “You did not! No, I'm sorry, you absolutely did not. Him? Seriously? He's so fat!”

“He genuinely used to be fit, before you started” Liam replied. “Like, properly fit. But then like a year ago he just suddenly got fat out of nowhere.”

Vid's stomach lurched. He knew that his weight gain was obvious, that everyone could see it, but he'd told himself that people still saw him as ‘chubby’, or ‘husky’, or ‘large’. To hear people call him fat, that some people were surprised he’d ever been anything else… Time, maybe, for him to stick to a diet. He took a deep breath in, sucked in his gut and walked into the break room.

“Oh hey guys, how are you?” he asked.

The pairs’ eyes widened and they both plastered on wide, fake smiles.

“Hey Viddy,” Liam drawled. “Oh, we’re good. We were just saying that Terry looks like he's put on some weight recently, weren't we Harriet?”

Harriet choked on her coffee and Vid saw her mouth “Stop it!” across the table at Liam.

“I don't know,” Vid replied. “He looks the same as ever to me.”

“Maybe,” Liam said, smiling. “I suppose, the thing is, I'm quite health conscious, so I notice these kinds of things.”

Vid saw Harriet slap Liam’s thigh and bite her lip. “Maybe,” Vid replied, seething. “Do you know if these donuts are for everyone?” he asked. “I've got a real sugar craving.”

“I think so,” Liam replied, before turning to Harriet and mouthing “Oh my god!” The two shook with silent laughter.

“Great,” Vid smiled. He took three.

-

“Oh my god, Terry! You look amazing!”

Vid looked up to see his co-worker Terry walk into the office after his holiday, with a broad smile on his face, an almost radioactive looking tan, and, most importantly, a significantly deflated gut. Terry held his arms out, showing off his baggy shirt and laughed. The office came to a standstill while everyone went over to congratulate him on his near-miraculous weight loss.

Vidhur declined to join the throng of people, instead looking down at the large gut filling his lap, and the small patch of sausage grease on his shirt from the first of that morning’s breakfast sandwiches. For a while now, he'd taken comfort in the fact that no matter how big he was getting, no matter how much weight he put on, as long as he stayed smaller than Terry, as long as he wasn't the fattest guy in the office, at least he was still in the realm of normality - a level of fat that an average member of the public could reach, without intentionally gorging themselves like Vid was doing. Okay, yes, Terry was thirty years older than Vidhur, and he'd put on his excess blubber over many years of sedentary desk work, happy marriage and living the good life, rather than Vid’s explosive weight gain of almost two hundred pounds over the last couple of years, but it remained a convenient and happy lie he could tell himself.

While Vid knew he’d been close to catching up with Terry anyway, he'd assumed that the effect of six weeks of all-you-can-eat buffets on Terry’s 58-year old metabolism would easily match the fifteen pounds Vid had put on while the older man was away. He felt ashamed. Sick. He'd blown himself up like a freak and now he was the fattest person he knew. Had he really ever meant to get this big? He'd just wanted to get a beer belly, hadn't he? Not this sack of lard he'd become.

“How did you do it Terry?” Sarah asked. Vid looked over. Maybe Terry was ill - some intestinal parasite caught in some distant country. Maybe, now he'd recovered, Terry was about to blow right back up, fatter than he'd ever been before, ready to take his heavyweight crown back from Vidhur.

“Well, I'd been thinking of dieting for a little while now,” Terry explained cheerfully. “I'd uh, well. I'd realised what I looked like. Just how fat I was.” Vid saw Terry look over at him, then look away again, a look of embarrassment on his face. Vid’s heart sank. Of course he was the huge monster that convinced Terry, the perpetually happy, lifelong fatty, just how disgusting his weight was.

“Well,” Terry continued, his face awkwardly turned away from where Vid was sat. “I thought the cruise would be awful for it, you know, all those buffets. But actually, they had these places you could go and they'd make me up these new salads every day, and I asked what was in them so I could make them at home - I've got them all written down. And the ship had this gym, and people there to help me. Three stone, I’ve lost so far.” The crowd around him gasped, ahh-ed and ooh-ed in astonishment at his feat. Terry waved them off. “Most of it was water weight, I lost most of it in the first couple of weeks.” Still, the admiration continued, and through the day Vid would cringe at each comment of congratulations. He noticed that a lot of people seemed to be avoiding him today - his size having been amplified by Terry’s sudden relative slimness.

“I hope you don't mind me saying Vid,” Terry said quietly later that day. “It's just, I know it's not easy, being so… well, you know.” Vid gave a short, uneasy smile in recognition that he did, in fact, know. “Well, I always thought I'd never be able to lose it. Told myself I was big boned, or that I had a slow metabolism, or that I just had too much of an appetite. But you know what Vid?” Vid could hear the pride in Terry's voice. “I just needed to decide to do it. It was easy in the end. Here, if I can do it, a young thing like you definitely can, eh?”

Vid smiled. He was terribly aware of the way he could feel the small action make his double chin crease even more. “Yeah, cheers Terry, I…” He paused and thought. “Maybe I have let it get too far.”

“If you ever need any healthy recipes or anyone to talk to, you know where I am, eh?” Terry smiled. “Here, can you believe I was almost twenty-four stone before my cruise? That was a wake-up call, I'll tell you that much.”

Vid whistled and raised his eyebrows. “Wow, yeah. That sure is… that sure is quite the number,” he said, giving a small chuckle. He turned back to his computer, knowing that he'd weighed in at over twenty-five stone that weekend. He had to lose some fucking weight.

-

Vid felt his whole body shake as he crashed to the floor. He wasn't sure if the crack of the chair breaking or the thwap of his soft body hitting the floor was louder, but he knew the combination was enough to bring the entire office crowding around his desk in a circle.

He lay on his side for a moment, dazed and winded as his co-workers murmured and pointed. He struggled into a crawling position, and did his best to ignore the roaring pain in his left hip and knee where he'd landed on them. In this position, his gut hung down far enough that it almost touched the ground. Vid's arms shook with the strain of holding up his weight, his heart pounded, and his breath was shallow and ragged.

“Come on, come on, help the man up,” Vid heard Terry's voice somewhere above him. “Here you go, easy now.” Vid felt a pair of hands grip his large flabby upper arms and strain to help him up. He did his best to not put too much weight onto the much smaller man as he staggered to his feet, but even so, he could see Terry struggle to stay upright. “You're okay, you're okay, there you are.” 

If Vid had enough breath, he'd have wanted to tell Terry that he wasn't a shell shock victim or a startled horse, and didn't need treating like one. Instead, he gasped out a breathless “thank you.”

“Come on, come on, someone get him a chair,” Terry barked at the gawping onlookers.

“Terry,” Sarah said out of the corner of her mouth. “Isn't the problem, you know, that the chairs don't support him?”

Vid wanted the ground to swallow him up. If he put on much more weight, perhaps it would. “I'll just go to the break room,” he said, refusing to meet anyone's eye.

“That's a good idea,” Terry said, still holding Vid’s arm and beginning to guide him. The crowd parted to allow Vid’s elephantine figure past, people pressing themselves into the desks on either side. “Let's get you sat on a nice comfy settee. Here, just let me…” He began pulling on Vid’s shirt, who looked down to see that it had ridden up so that most of Vid's soft, hanging gut was on show, with pale stretch marks almost glaring against his brown skin.

Behind Vid, he heard a creak and turned around to see Sarah probing the floor with her foot. “Yeah, I think the floorboard’s broken,” she sighed. Vid hastily helped Terry pull his shirt down, his pulse racing with shame.

Vid sat eating a plate of biscuits and a mug of “overly-sweet” tea (Terry's words; just the thing after a shock apparently. Vid didn't bother to tell him that it had less sugar than he usually put in it himself). He looked up as the door opened and his manager Ellis walked in, three years younger than Vid, and half his weight.

“HR says we’ve got to buy you a reinforced chair,” Ellis snapped. “Reasonable adjustments or some shit. If you ask me, the reasonable adjustment would be for you to lose some of that fucking blubber. Fucking hell man, I'm surprised the chair went before your heart did.”

The settlement made Vid very comfortable indeed.

-

Dr Wiltshire tutted as she looked at the charts in front of her. “If I'm being honest, you're lucky your blood pressure isn't even higher, considering your weight,” she said, not bothering to look up. She began to type something on her computer.

“Yeah, I get that I’ve-” Vid began.

“I can't believe it's taken you this long to come in,” the doctor interrupted. “Your records say that you last came in-,” she tapped at the screen and inhaled sharply, “four years ago. You've put on almost three-hundred pounds in that time, did you know that?”

“I guess I-”

She grabbed his forearm and pulled it towards herself. “I'm going to have to take some blood for a diabetes test,” she snapped. “If I can find a vein,” she added in a murmur.

Despite knowing his gut more than covered his crotch, Vid struggled against the erection he could feel forming. He'd stayed away from the doctors for years, knowing that he'd be judged for his explosive weight gain, and now he'd left it so long that it was so much worse than he could possibly imagine.

“We'll put you on some medication to lower your blood pressure, at a minimum,” Dr Wiltshire said once she'd taken some blood. “Its very likely that you’ll need to be on insulin as well, but we’ll talk about managing your diabetes at another appointment.”

“Well I thought we still had to test-”

“Yes, yes, we’ll need confirmation before we put you on ozempic. We can talk about that once we sort out your insulin,” she said.

“Well, I'm not sure I'd want to go on ozempic,” Vid said. “I've heard some bad things about it.”

Dr Wiltshire sighed. “Well, have you also heard some rather bad things about morbid obesity as well?”

Vid sat in silence the rest of the appointment, vowing to take on all of her advice, to make the changes to his diet she suggested, to start exercising more. He really had let all this get too far. He couldn't believe how badly he'd jeopardised his health for a fetish. Once he left, he realised he'd never even told her about the knee pain he'd made the appointment for.

-

“Go on,” Lee said, standing on the bed over Vid, stroking his thick erection. “Say it.”

“Please,” Vid said, as he strained towards his crotch.

“Please what?” Lee said. He raised a foot and pressed it lightly down on Vid's gut.

“Please let me cum,” Vid pleaded.

Lee’s face feigned bemusement. His hand continued pumping his cock. “You're allowed to cum,” he said. “You remember. We agreed that you needed to finish all-” he gestured towards the pile of fast food wrappers spilling over the side of the bed and onto the floor with his free hand “-of that food if you wanted to cum. And you did! Well done you.”

“But I can't…” Vid said.

“Sorry,” Lee said, bending slightly. At no point did his stroking slow. “What was that?”  His free hand pressed his ear forward.

“I can't make myself cum,” Vid said, his face flushing. “I can't reach my cock.”

Lee's hand sped up slightly. “Oh my!” he said, his face and voice in mock surprise. “Why wouldn't you be able to do that then?”

Vid was equal parts horny and genuinely embarrassed. “Because I'm too fat,” he said, collapsing back onto his pillows. “Because I can't reach around my fat gut, and even if I could, my dick is too small because it's been swallowed up by all my fat.”

Lee’s hand let go of his cock, and he let it hang, heavy and pulsing between his muscular thighs. “Why didn't you say?” he said, a smile spreading on his face. “Well then, you'll need me to do it for you I suppose then, won't you?” Vid nodded. “Sorry, what was that?” Lee asked. “I can’t see your gestures because they get swallowed by all the fucking fat.”

“Yes,” Vidhur said. He bit his lip.

“Well then. Eating all that food was the requirement for you being allowed to cum, not for me to do it for you,” Lee explained. “You'll have to have dessert if you want me to do that for you.” He shuffled forwards on the mattress, the motion made difficult by having to navigate around Vid’s sheer width. He lowered himself down until he was sat on Vid’s chest, the tip of his cock so close to Vid's lips that Vid could feel its warmth. “Do you want dessert?” Lee asked.

Vid answered by leaning forward and taking Lee's length into his mouth. He sucked hungrily, and Lee began to rock back and forth. Vid focussed on his technique, eager to please, gently stroking Lee’s balls and gripping his firm thighs. Lee moaned and gave a couple of shaking thrusts, jamming his cock into the back of Vid's throat, before Vid felt thick jizz pour down his throat. Lee pulled back and sighed contentedly while Vid coughed.

“Please,” Vid said as Lee climbed off of him. “Me now.”

Lee tutted and smiled. “Silly fatty!” he said. “That wasn't dessert. That was my cock.” He leant down and pulled a cake from below the bags he'd stashed beneath the bed. “No, this is dessert.”

Vid shook his head. “I'm too full. Please, I can't.”

Lee smiled. “I think you can. Big boy like you. And all that exercise you were doing trying to reach your little nub of a cock must have worked up quite an appetite.”

Vid closed his eyes and breathed heavily. His cock ached below the heavy pressure of his gut. “Give me the cake,” he said.

“I thought so,” Lee said. He didn't bother cutting the cake, just brought the whole thing to Vid's lips. Vid took huge bites, trying to eat it quick enough to trick his body into not noticing the huge amount of calories and sugar being forced into it. It didn't work. His stomach was straining and painful by the time he finished, and his head was spinning.

He was so dazed from the sugar that he could barely remember his aching cock, and was almost surprised when Lee's thick arm slid underneath his gut and began to work the exposed tip of his once impressive cock. Within thirty seconds, Vid yelled out and shook as he felt his crotch fill with semen.

“Same time next week?” Lee asked, wearing a thin pair of sweatpants and pulling on a muscle-tee, while Vid waddled back from the shower.

“Yeah. Money's on the bedside table,” Vid said.

Lee nodded. “Yeah, I got it, thanks.” He stayed sitting, unusual for him. “That was new, wasn't it?” he asked after a moment.

“What was?” Vid asked.

“Not being able to reach yourself,” Lee said. “You've done it before, but always pretending, part of play. That was different, wasn't it? You really couldn't?”

Vid shrugged. “For a while now. Too much in the way,” he explained.

“Right, right,” Lee said quietly. “You okay with that? I mean, I know this is your thing and everything. Shit, it's my thing too. But, you know, it's okay to not be okay with parts of it. To take a step back? I know how this can sort of run away with you. I used to think I didn't like guys over three-hundred, now that's my entire client-base.”

Vid nodded. “I'm okay with it. I've… well, I've definitely not been okay with it sometimes. But I've always kept going. Gotten okay with it, in the end.”

Lee nodded. “Okay. Good. Well, you’ve got my number if you need to talk, yeah? I won't even charge if I've got my clothes on,” he joked. “Or I could put you in touch with some other big guys? One of my exes is even bigger than you, might be good to talk to?”

“Yeah, that would be good thanks,” Vid said with a smile. “But, genuinely, I'm fine. I've got a good community going, I've come to terms with all the shit that comes along with this.”

Lee stood up. “Okay then,” he said. “No regrets?” he asked.

Vid shook his head. “No regrets.”

[benedictscanvas]

filling an empty vase - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x reader

word count: 3.4k (genuinely don't know how that happened)

warnings: language (duh) and some suggestive themes. the word shagging, which is too british not to include i'm afraid

a/n: this was an anonymous request that i'm not going to put here because it kinda ruins the whole plot! but it was such a fabulous request, so thank you anon, for giving me so much space to play. if you're not sure this is your request, you mentioned "Mr I Never Smile Kent" which funnily enough, made me smile!! enjoy sunflowers <3

---

You were such a professional in so many ways, but yet again you found your focus drifting during your meeting with the rest of the coaches. Your eyes find Roy’s face with such ease, lingering on the newly thicker beard he’s been sporting recently, then travelling down to broad shoulders, ones that fill out the door frame so nicely when he folds his arms. You’re so lucky he’s always folding his arms.

Before you can move onto admiring those arms, you see his head turn towards you and you look away before you can be caught. Instead of glancing at his face to see if he’s still looking at you, you decide it’s easier to join the conversation. As the goalkeeping coach, there isn’t always much you can contribute to these discussions, but they’re very insistent on including you.

“The only thing you need to be careful of is their counter-press,” you chime in, “Mind that the boys don’t get complacent in possession or my guy will be a sitting duck out there.”

“Good thinkin, Abe Lincoln. Why don’t we add that to our pre-game talk, coach, make sure someone’s watchin’ Zoreaux’s back at all times?”

“Already writing it down, coach,” Beard replied, gaining a double thumbs up from Ted who then continued talking. Even though you’d hardly been listening, you knew to do enough research beforehand so that you were free to let your mind wander and only speak up with a few key points.

You tune back in when you recognise the gruff tone of the very man you’re trying not to admire again.

“No. Y/N stole my fucking thing. I’ve gone over the rest in training,” he says dryly, and you duck your head to your lap to hide your smirk. Of course the two of you were on the same page about strategy, you always were. Usually he got to say it before you though, “Can we go now?”

“Unless anyone’s got anythin’ they want to add?” Ted looks around at everyone’s blank and frankly, very tired faces, “Not even somethin’ personal? Deep dark secret? Scandalous love affair, that kinda thing? Higgins, you look like there’s somethin’ right on the tip of that tongue.”

“I’m leaving,” Roy announced, walking into his office and shutting the door, even going so far as to shut the blinds on both windows before he presumably sat at his desk. You sighed and got up from your perch on the desk to take a step towards the dressing room.

“Afraid I’ve got some work to get done before I go home too,” you say, trying to be at least slightly nicer than Roy about it, “We can get personal tomorrow, alright Ted?”

He agrees with a happy grin on his face and you say goodbye to him, Beard and Trent collectively with a salute before turning on your heel and waving a goodbye to any of the team still around as you leave. You don’t go far. Unable to help yourself, you knock on Roy’s office door from the other side and shuffle your weight between your feet as you wait.

“Fuck off,” comes the greeting, so you open the door and slip inside.

“Even if it’s me?”

His head turns at the sound of your voice and suddenly his features look a special kind of soft, even in the harsh overhead lighting. He swivels his chair fully to face you, but makes no other move.

“Especially if it’s you,” he confirms, folding his arms again like he knew the effect he had on you, “You’re a fucking pervert.”

You gasp, clutching at the door handle behind you in a show of shock.

“I’m a what?”

“You heard me. Staring at me like you do in meetings wasn’t in your job description when we hired you, last I checked.”

“Last I checked, shagging your goalkeeping coach wasn’t in your job description, but you made pretty quick work of it.”

That was enough to get him moving. He’s quick out of his chair for a man with a bad knee, quick to crowd you against the wall just next to the door. Someone would have to really peer in to see the two of you, something he’d probably calculated even though your mind was already blank at the new proximity. 

“You’re right,” he says, voice sinfully low, hands either side of your hips but not touching you yet, “And I was staring at you the whole fucking meeting anyway, so I’m a pervert and a hypocrite.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can keep on with you if you’re both. One of them, maybe I can look past it, but both?”

Finally, one hand comes off the wall to stroke a line down your side with the backs of his knuckles. You try not to give him the satisfaction of shivering, but fail miserably.

“Think you can brave it?” he murmurs, that same hand brushing along your cheekbone, still all rough knuckles instead of his palm, “I’ll take you to Big Tesco later.”

Your whole face brightens despite the heavy tension that had settled like a mist in the room. You reach up to gently hold his wrist, stroking a thumb back and forth over the pulse that jumped there.

“Shit, you know the way to a girl’s heart, Kent,” you whisper, syrupy and cloying, “I take it all back. We can go as long as you like.”

The innuendo drew the growl from him that you’d been hoping for. The hand at your cheek was quick to turn until he was cupping your face and pulling you into him, kissing you deep and slow and longingly. Each kiss with him was better than the last. Yes, it had started hot and desperate after a month of unbearable electricity between you, a rushed encounter at a hotel after a particularly adrenaline-filled away game. 

Ever since, Roy had slowed things down. Not in the way you’d perhaps expected - he was still hot and heavy whenever the two of you got the chance, but he was taking his time with you. Teasing and learning. Nobody had ever treated you like this before, like you were something to be revered. Worshipped.

It was the same now, as he anchored himself with a hand on your back, pulling you further in, kissing you with genuine hunger.

“Roy? Can I come and get my stuff.”

Trent. It was always Trent. You liked the man so much, spent a lot of time with him, in fact, but if he interrupted you and Roy one more time, you had half a mind to hide his manuscript or something.

Roy did his special silent groan that he did whenever he couldn’t groan aloud, where he glared at the ceiling as he broke away from you and then clenched his fists in front of him. It was adorable, not that you would tell him that.

“All good,” you whisper, despite it definitely not being all good. It was entirely a joint decision not to tell the team about the two of you yet, but sometimes you wished you could announce it to the whole fucking world if it would get you some alone time.

You squeeze his hand and slip away to the adjoining door between his and Ted’s office. You hear Roy grunt for Ted to come in behind you, but you squeeze through into the other room before you hear any more of their inevitably one-sided conversation. Ted turns to you brightly as you enter.

“Decided you wanted to get personal sooner, Y/N?” he grins, and you can tell he isn’t really serious.

“Just forgot my keys,” you said sheepishly, retrieving them from the desk where you’d left them completely on purpose. It was always good to have a back-up plan and Roy wasn’t the only quick thinker between you, “See you tomorrow, Coach.”

“Can’t wait, coach!”

As you exit for real this time, glancing into Roy’s office as you pass, you take out your phone to shoot him a text. You’re saved under an unassuming name in his phone, so even if Trent sees it, he’ll be none the wiser.

We’re still on for tonight, right? The way I navigate a Big Tesco will blow your mind x

You press send with a smile to yourself, continuing on towards your office to pack up for the evening. Your phone buzzes before you even get there.

You blow my mind every fucking day. See you soon x

God, you could clutch your phone to your chest and squeal in the corridor, but instead, you speed up your walk to get home as quickly as possible. There was no harm in getting all dressed up to go to the supermarket when you were going with an insanely fit professional footballer, you reasoned.

---

Big Tesco. The place dreams are made of, or at least it was when you were younger and felt like you could get lost in the aisles and never return. Nowadays, it was likely nostalgia that kept you coming back, but it still felt like your first Big Tesco trip with Roy was a pretty big deal.

Mainly you needed snacks for movie night, but Roy was happy to indulge you and drive twenty minutes away for this if that’s what you wanted.

“If we’re doing Julia Roberts, we have to do Pretty Woman, obviously.”

“And Erin fucking Brockovich,” Roy agreed, “But if we do Sandra Bullock, we get the modern day masterpiece that is Miss Congeniality.”

“Oh, I still need to see that one!”

Roy stops, Pringles tube hovering above the trolley. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time and he doesn’t like what he sees.

“Right, we’re doing Bullock then, if I have to fucking culture you as well as buy your snacks.”

“We’re splitting the snacks-”

“The fuck we are,” he cut in, already contradicting himself, “I was fucking joking, please can we not get into another snack debate. You bought them last time.”

“Fine. And I’m happy with Sandy, too, so you win twice, buddy,” you grin at him, not expecting him to grin back but ecstatic when he does. You have half a mind to press him up against the Doritos and finish what you’d started earlier, but you have plenty of time for that in appropriate places later.

You had all night, in fact, post-Sandra Bullock marathon. The thought brings a particular movie to mind.

“As long as we throw Two Weeks Notice in there too.”

“Hugh Grant? No.”

“Oh come on, he’s a national treasure,” you argue, sliding your arm through his as the two of you continue your journey through the aisles.

“He’s a fucking idiot, is what he is,” Roy bites back, as he picks up the chocolate he knows you love, “I’ll allow The Proposal.”

“You know what, that’s a better choice anyway. We have a deal if we can make a stop in the homeware section after this?” you say hopefully, excited when he sighs and nods. You kiss his shoulder as you continue walking, “We’re so fucking good at this compromising shit!”

You lean away from him enough to hold your hand up for a high five. He indulges you reluctantly with a light slap from his own.

“We are. It’s cause I’m so fucking nice.”

“To me,” you add, staring up at him as he slows the trolley to a stop beside the biscuits. He takes your face in his hands after a moment.

“To you, yeah,” he agrees, voice all soft like it had been earlier. You’re not going to kiss him senseless in a supermarket, the two of you had some shame and a lot of love for privacy, but it was nice to indulge in something like this, a sweet moment shared without fear of anyone seeing the two of you. You turn your head to kiss his palm, “You’ve sent me all fucking soft.”

“You love it.”

“Love you, more like,” he says, for the first fucking time, in a Big Tesco. You’d found out you were getting a party bus for your 10th birthday here too, so it was a location for big occasions. You kiss his palm; once, twice, three times.

“You have to say the I or it doesn’t mean anything,” you tease, but you’re beaming up at him as he strokes the skin underneath your eyes and you almost let them flutter shut.

“Who fucking told you that? Sounds like shit Jamie would say.”

“Jan Maas.”

“Fucking prick,” he says, then a moment later, “I love you, then, if you fucking insist.”

“I do insist,” you giggle, leaning forward until your face is in his chest so you can safely say: “I love you too.”

Its a little muffled, but thankfully he doesn’t ask you to repeat it again like you think he will. He just wraps his arms around your shoulders and keeps you close to him for a long while.

“Roy? Hey boyo!!”

You freeze in place, face still hidden. If anything, Roy’s arms tighten around you rather than letting go as he turns to see Colin waving at him, alongside Sam, Isaac, Jamie and the aforementioned Jan Maas. They all pile over towards him and you know its a matter of time before they realise its you. Jamie’s already bounding over as if he’s won the lottery.

“Roy’s got a girl! A real woman, like!” Jamie exclaims as he reaches them and you decide to get this over with sooner than later, lifting your head to stare at him wearily. He frowns, “Oh. Y/N, hiya.”

Of course he isn’t connecting any dots. He isn’t quite the connecting type, however much you love him to little pieces. Sam is staring at you a lot more knowingly, Isaac stuck with his mouth open. They’ve all caught on a little quicker than Jamie.

“The two of you together,” Jan muses, “I do not believe this is a pairing made to last.”

“Oi, Jan Maas,” Isaac pipes up, especially as Roy’s already stepped forward to threaten him, “Not cool.”

“I am just telling you the truth. You are both a little grumpy, you will not have the needed balance.”

“We’re balancing perfectly fucking well, thank you,” Roy says, and you can hear that he’s gritting his teeth, “As a team. Of coaches. Because that’s what we fucking are.”

Oh, he was going to play the ‘it wasn’t what it looked like’ card? You weren’t expecting it, but you’d happily back him up if he wanted you to.

“You are telling me that was a friend hug?” Sam asks, voice full of disbelief. You look up at Roy to see what he’ll say to that, but he’s already looking down at you with an untraceable look on his face. When he finally looks back at the boys, he takes your hand in his.

“No. It was a fucking boyfriend-girlfriend hug, alright? Any of you tell anyone before we do and I’ll feed you to a fucking monitor lizard.”

You’d watched a documentary about them last night that had likely led to that threat. Jamie’s snickering but tries to sober up when Roy immediately turns to him. He holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry mate, I am, I’ve jus’ never heard a grown man say ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ before,” he says, back to giggling by the end of his sentence and Jan Maas is quick to dissolve into full blown laughter. You bring a hand up to your mouth to hide your own amusement, lest Roy feel betrayed by it.

“Right, fuck off and leave us alone then. We’re on a tight fucking movie night schedule and I won’t have you twats throwing us off.”

“Hey! That’s why we’re here! If we’re all doing movie night, why don’t you join us?” Sam asks, and you can see he’s teasing even if Roy can’t tell. Still, you take it as an opportunity to stake your claim as you wrap an arm around Roy’s bicep and cling to him.

“Look, you lot hog this man all day every day. I’m taking him home and we’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

It was very Roy of you, just with the addition of a wink at the end that told the boys you were half-joking. Jamie seemed almost impressed, while Sam was trying not to laugh at you. That man never took you seriously, and you loved it.

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Isaac decided, dragging Jamie backwards a little by the collar when he opened his mouth to tease Roy one final time, “Enjoy your night, yeah? See you tomorrow.”

Roy grunted his goodbye, but you waved back at them when they waved, mostly at you. Jamie mouthed something at Roy but, luckily for you both, Roy couldn’t work it out.

“Pricks,” he mutters once they’re far away enough not to hear him and you let out a little snort.

“They were very nice about that, you know? I was expecting a lot worse,” you said, pleasantly surprised at the lack of proper teasing. You knew there was likely more to come once they’d had a while to process it, but still. There was a certain weight lifted knowing that someone had finally been told.

“Do people not say boyfriend-girlfriend anymore?” he asks abruptly, looking down at you from where you’re still clinging to him. You grin at up at him.

“We should bring it back. I love boyfriend-girlfriend. I think that’s how we should introduce ourselves to people from now on.”

He rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice, but tugged you into a quick, public appropriate kiss nonetheless.

“Let’s get you some fucking hobnobs and then we can go and look at fancy glassware, yeah?,” he announces, shaking his head with such obvious fondness when you cheer and turn to the biscuits. He stays close, a hand hovering near your back, and you’re a little worried movie night might be forgotten when you get home given how handsy the two of you have been all day. You resume your shopping tucked into his side, and only bump into the boys twice more on your trip around the wonders of Big Tesco.

Later, when you’re eventually curled into Roy’s side during a movie night that started way later than intended, your phone buzzes a few too many times in a row to ignore. You glance at Roy quizzically as you grab it, seeing a bunch of texts coming in from Sam.

Couldn’t resist. Don’t let Roy hate me. I’ve deleted them on my phone now, so they’re just yours. Lunch tomorrow?

Roy grumbled a little beside you as he read over your shoulder, but really he should have gotten used to your occasional lunch plans with Sam by now, even if he liked having you all to himself for at least one hour during the day. You settle into him even more as you scroll through a bunch of photos Sam’s attached with wide eyes.

You staring up at Roy. Roy kissing you. The grins on both your faces when you part. Then one that has you reeling, where you’re facing the biscuits with your hands on your hips and Roy is looking at you. Enthralled. You’re not even fucking doing anything.

“That little shit,” Roy breathes, squeezing your thigh where his hand was already resting.

“I love them,” you say instead of responding, tilting your head back to look at Roy, “Our first proper photos together.”

“They look like a fucking pap took them,” he complains, but he's still studying them and you can tell he likes them really.

“Look how happy we look," you’re stuck on how he looks at you when you’re not even looking at him. When there’s nothing to be gained from it. You glance at the new vase sitting on your coffee table, with fresh flowers Roy had insisted on because 'if we're getting a fucking vase we have to fucking fill it'. Here he was, filling your life with so many little pieces of joy.

“Well we are fucking happy, aren’t we?”

There's a little bit of vulnerability in his question, like he needs confirmation. You lock your phone and toss it to the side, knowing you can reply to Sam in a bit. For now, you pause the movie and clamber to straddle Roy’s lap, seeing that look on his face again as he stares up at you. It only spurs you on.

“We’re very fucking happy, Roy.”

He grins, which is rare, but then he kisses you and that’s not rare at all.

(roy makes a mental note to thank sam for the pictures tomorrow, even if he tells him to do extra laps in the same sentence to maintain the balance)

[bahrtofane]

prompt 9 trope 3 w clingy trent please

- "Stay, please?" - Fake Relationship

Word count - 1.1k+

Watch it - reader loses mind bc trent is sweet and nice what's new 

Trent but youre whole relationship is based on a lie you can't fall back on now. 

Lets paint the picture, yeah?

Mutual friend's wedding, dear old Sammy is getting married. The both of you have been invited. You haven seen Trent in a minute so you both figure you might as well go together. Cut down on carbon emissions and what not. Besides you didn't want to deal with driving in your heels and Trent wanted the company. Sweet and simple.

He picks you up right on time (he looks lovely in a suit), the ride there is filled with catching up and teasing words before you slip into a comfortable silence. He holds the door for you when you get there, and walk in looking more like a couple than the damn married couple. You do your rounds, greeting your friends when you get there before heading off to your assigned seats next to each other. You enjoy the light snacks before heading off to mingle, saying your congrats to the bride and groom. 

Your friend's grandmother comes over smiling at both of you, calling you such a cute couple. She says the next wedding better be yours. She looks so happy, hands over her heart and reminiscing about her late husband and how much you and Trent remind her of her youth.

And what are you supposed to do to crush a little old woman's dream? No. 

Instead Trent wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you close and telling her she'd be the first to get invited. 

Little did you know that everyone and their mother was watching the no more than minute long interaction go down and here you are. You can't tell your friend you lied to her grandma on her wedding day what a horrid person you are. 

Instead you and Trent agree to go along with it, fake it for a bit and then announce a mutual break up. 

Easy peasy right? Wrong !! If only you didn't have heart eyes with him to begin with. What a cruel fate you've been served. 

Each and every time he smiles and pecks your cheek in front of friends you want to scream and tell him to just date for real already. But no you can't, you won't, dont. Whatever. 

You have to live off of the quick kisses that never meet your lips and the touches that he never truly means. He's an absolute menace when it comes to physical touch. Unable to keep his hands off of you. Even when you're out of sight. He still clings to you. Hands in the back of your jeans, in the buckles and loops of your pants pulling you closer. Whenever he finds himself at your home he's always so reluctant to leave. Staying over probably many more times than needed. And it only makes your head spin.

You're doomed. Completely and utterly doomed. 

Today you're sitting at a dinner with the same group of friends at the back of a fancy restaurant while you fight your floor-length gown from riding up in your seat. Trent sits next to you. Of course he does. 

You got here together yet again. It's to make things easier to say in the back of your mind. Yeah. Not because you've gotten used to him driving you about. 

The conversations around you eventually dull to nothing more but lingering comments as plates of food finish and checks come around. 

Not a bad night you suppose.

Sammy pipes up as everyone is gathering their things, “so when's the wedding?” eyebrows wiggling. 

You wave her off, “oh I don't know we haven't really talked about that yet.”

Trent gives a nod, tucking his dress shirt neatly into the waistband of his pants,”I've been too busy with everything.”

People give sympathetic nods and you quickly shove your purse back into your bag. You say goodbye to everyone and slip an arm into Trents as you walk back to the garage. He's still a gentleman even out of sight. Holding your dress up for you as you make your way up curbs. 

“Can't believe they're asking for a wedding.” you huff. 

Trent shrugs, “could be worse.” pulling you closer against him.

You sigh,"I suppose so.”

“You look pretty.” he smiles, leading the way back to his car

“Thank you,” you turn your head away from him. Afraid he’ll catch on to just how much his words fluster you.

You reach his car soon enough, arm slipping from his grasp as he leans to open the door. You slip inside without much of a fuss. Neither of you speak for a moment when you're both buckled up. 

He sighs, putting his car into drive and heading out of the garage. Almost fighting with the ticket (it refuses to scan) and zooming out before he pops a blood vessel.

He hands you his phone and you put in your address while watching the city streets bleed by into the night. It feels good out, so you lower your window all the way down, sticking a hand out.

He smiles, mimicking you and humming softly under his breath.

“Oh shit.” you exclaim.

“What?”

“I think I left my jacket at your place. I can stop by tomorrow to get it ?”

“Nah, we’ll just stop by. Add it as a stop.”

“You sure ?” you bite your lip. Afraid of overstepping. 

“I'm sure,” he nods. 

You do so. And before you know it both of you step out onto his driveway and duck inside. You forget just how expansive the place is. Jeez.

You find the jacket tossed on his couch and you tuck it into your arm. 

“I'll see you then?” you try, voice soft. Will there be a next time 

"Stay, please," Trent's voice interrupts the heavy silence, his eyes pleading with you as if begging for a moment's respite from the chaos swirling around you.

You turn to him, feeling the weight of his words pressing against your chest. "I can't," you murmur, voice thick. "Not like this."

His expression falls, picking at his nails as you try not to feel like a bitch. 

“Then, stay but not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like-fuck,” he scratches the back of his neck, “i dont wanna just keep pretending anymore.”

You blink. “Trent I'm not following.”

“You're so dense I want to date you and you date me for realI.” he raises his hands in exasperation. 

You blink again, hard. Unable to process anything. 

“Please say something-'' you shut him up with a swift kiss. Pawing against his dress shirt and pressing him against you. 

“Is that a good answer?” you look away, toying with the buttons around his collar. 

“Yup!” he chirps, “perfect so perfect so amazing.” melting into your touch and chasing for your lips. 

Maybe that wedding will happen after all. 

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Spinning

Summary: Trent meets Y/n when she’s at her lowest and helps her to find herself again until she falls unrequitedly in love.

Angst & Fluff

Warnings: Reader has mental health issues

Note: I listened to this song while I was writing this ❤️‍🩹 + If you’re feeling alone or something like that, remember that you’re loved and you’re not alone in what you’re battling with 🫶🏻

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

It was just a normal day for Trent but for you it was more. You fell in love, with a guy who didn’t even want you. He just wanted to be loved. And so did you, more than ever. Turns out in the end that you were just a distraction, a person who he could lash out his feelings to, like it was nothing.

Whatever you thought you and Trent had, wasn’t love. It wasn’t real.

The day Y/n and Trent met

It was raining outside, it was cold as well. Trent hated the cold and wished he stayed home this day. Y/n on the other hand liked the cold but not the rain.

It was a real challenge for Y/n to get up from the bed this day. She just wanted to lay there all day, she liked the loneliness but still felt miserable.

Y/n got out of the bed and went on a walk outside, eyes still red and puffy from crying. The rain fell down on her and she wished she stayed at home. Y/n couldn’t help but cry, everything in her life felt meaningless at the moment.

She kept her head down as she walked and suddenly she dropped her phone, and figured she’d walked into someone. How embarrassing.

“Oh I’m so sorry.” Y/n apologised and the person handed her the phone.

“No worries!” He said and as you looked at him he noticed your red puffy eyes.

“Crazy whether today huh?” Y/n remarked and looked him in the eyes. They were brown and very pretty.

“Yeah, right.” He answered.

“What’s your name?” He added.

“Y/n, I live down the street.” You replied and the stranger shake his hand and said

“I’m Trent.”

You looked up to see that it stopped raining, and that’s how the story started.

Once you met Trent everything in your life stopped raining. Or so you thought.

-

From that day Trent could tell from your eyes that you’ve been crying. He wanted to know what was wrong and he didn’t even know you.

Months went by and you met Trent met each other on walks now and then, one thing lead to another and you were asked on a date.

You were nervous and overwhelmed, you couldn’t believe that this could happen to someone like you. You somehow felt special for the first time in a long time. Because Trent cared about you.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He expressed after you just ranted out all of your thoughts and feelings about your life. You were overthinking if you maybe shared too much, but you trusted him.

“It’s okay.” You answered and forced him a smile.

“How?” You implored.

“I think we’re alike in someways you know?” Trent observed, both of you chuckled.

“I mean I relate to that stuff with loneliness, you just want to be wanted. But I like being alone but not for too long.” He spoke up and you nodded in response.

“For a long time I’ve felt like there was no point in telling anyone what was happening inside of me.” You revealed and as you spoke Trent took your hand and draw small circles on your palm. He could see your eyes well up and wanted nothing more for you thank to be safe and okay.

“Y/n, listen to me. You are enough, okay? Don’t think that no one wants to listen to you, I do. I’ll be here for as long as you want.” Trent said softly as you dried your tears on your cheek.

You didn’t expect to cry on your first date, but it was something pure about the whole situation. You and Trent, two broken hearts are just beginning your “love story”.

4 months later

You’ve grown to love him and yourself.

You walked around in his house in his shirt that smells like him knowing that the smell of his perfume will soon fade, like his feelings for you.

You don’t know what’s going on anymore. You’re not in a relationship but you’re still here, in his house. Were you two just close friends? Who made love on the weekends, kissed each other whilst watching a movie one of you just put on to ignore the silence?

After months of being honest with each other you two couldn’t ignore the reality anymore. Deep down you knew you weren’t feeling better mentally, it was just Trent who made your days brighter and took your torment away.

For him you helped him feel at ease. He loved how he could tell you about things that happened in a match, he would be so angry and frustrated. But you were there for him. The greatest distraction he’s ever had. To you, he was the greatest thing you’ve ever had.

Then there was this silence.

“I don’t think I can go on like this any longer Trent.” You firmly said and looked at him, watching him close his eyes in frustration.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” He mumbled.

“Like what?” You challenged.

“Like you could love me.” Trent angrily told you and you were shocked by his words.

“Don’t say that.” You sulked.

“Well, we can’t be together and we can’t be apart so I don’t know what to do Y/n.” He shrugged and sighed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore Trent!” You blustered and tears started flowing down your cheeks.

“The night you told me you love me,” You said laughed in disbelief. “I fucking believed you.”

Trent felt speechless. Perhaps he went too far with leading you on, thinking he loved you but the more he thought about it he just wanted to feel loved. He didn’t want to love.

“Well, then I’m sorry Trent that I loved you and it made you cruel.” You cried and began to walk towards the door before he stopped you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Trent murmured but you didn’t listen.

“I should’ve never told you how I felt that night at the restaurant.” You said quietly as you were ready to leave him.

“Y/n, please.” He sighed.

“It was a long time ago anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore and yet I cannot let it go Trent.” You taunted and stood by the door, waiting for this daydream to end.

“Before you go,” He hesitated. “Don’t walk past me like a stranger next time I see you, please.He finished.

You laughed in response, I mean how were you supposed to live without him when you started living again because of him. Why didn’t he love you like you love him?

“Wasn’t it nice? To feel wanted even if it was just for a while?” Trent questioned, bringing up the feeling you felt before meeting him - to feel wanted.

“It wasn’t real Trent.” You said into the silence.

“But yes, it was nice.” You sniffled and looked down at the floor.

You stepped outside, it started raining once you started walking. Now everything was raining again, you lost him. He was the one you loved, the only one.

It pains you that he saved you but he never knew and he’ll never will.