Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?
Index:
Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [eventually smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking ]
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!
Chapter 1 - Trent. | ‘Movie Night'
word count - 12.5k
The first time Trent bought you a gift, it was for your birthday—years ago, when everything between you was still in that gray space. You couldn’t name it if you tried but it wasn’t friendship but it certainly wasn’t something else. It was subtle at first, the way things were changing. He wasn’t even supposed to come to your party. He had a match but he made the effort to drop by for a little while. He didn’t make a scene or grab attention; it wasn’t like him to do that. But there was something about the way he navigated through the crowd, like he was looking for someone in particular. You. When he found you, standing near the edge of the party, he smiled, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes, because there was something he was holding back, something he didn’t know how to say.
“Hey, happy birthday, pretty girl,” he said. The nickname he’d called you for ages made your heart ache every time. He leaned in to hug you. It should've been quick, casual, nothing out of the ordinary. But the moment his arms were around you, you felt a warmth spread through your chest that only he made you feel.
“I didn’t think you were coming?” You smiled back at him.
“Yeah,” he nodded, glancing around at the crowd before dropping his gaze to you again. “I can’t stay long, but I, uh… I wanted to give you a little something on your actual birthday.” He smiled as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box.
“Oh…Thanks… that’s really sweet, T. What is this?” You stared at it for a second, a little surprised. It wasn’t awkward as much as it was charged.
“Just something I saw and thought of you,” he said simply, though the weight of those words hung in the air. You blinked, taken aback.
“You think about me?” You asked. He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he smiled, almost shyly, and ran a hand over his hair.
“Uh yeah,” he admitted earnestly, but almost embarrassed. He thought about you a lot and he could never tell you just how much, so his voice was soft. It made your heart skip in a way you hadn’t expected. There was a pause, the kind that felt heavy with everything unsaid between the two of you. Your fingers trembled a little as you opened the box. Inside was a necklace—delicate and beautiful, not over-the-top in looks but you knew the price tag was almost stupid. It was Van Clef, it was a gold little diamond butterfly and it just felt… right. It felt very you and Trent. Like something if you knew, it was extravagant but on the surface it looked like something so simple. It sparkled in the light, and you could immediately tell how much thought he had put into picking it.
“T… this is gorgeous,” you breathed out, lifting it out of the box to admire it closer.
“I’m glad you like it.” He watched you, his eyes softening. Without thinking, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a hug again. But this time, it was different—charged in a way that had never been there before. His arms circled around you, and you could feel the way he pulled you in tighter, almost as if he didn’t want to let go. You rested your head against his chest, the soft sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear, and the warmth of his body seeped into yours. It was the kind of hug that made the world fall away. You were vaguely aware of the party continuing on around you, the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses, but all of that seemed distant. All you could focus on was the way his hands rested on your lower back, the way his body fit perfectly against yours, and how easy it would be to stay like this. The hug lingered, far longer than what anyone could consider appropriate for two friends. You both knew it, but neither of you pulled away. It felt like you were both standing on the edge of something, something that was just waiting for one of you to acknowledge. But neither of you did. Instead, you stayed wrapped up in him, in that quiet moment that felt suspended in time. When you finally, reluctantly, pulled back, your eyes met his, and for a brief second, the space between you felt charged with all the words neither of you had the courage to say.
“Thank you, T,” you whispered, your voice soft but thick with something unspoken. He smiled, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—something deeper.
“You’re welcome, pretty girl, happy birthday.” Your fingers brushed against the necklace, still cradled in the box. You hadn’t even put it on yet, but already, it felt like it meant more than just a birthday gift. It felt like a secret, something that was just between the two of you. After he left that night, you went up to your room and immediately clasped the necklace around your neck. The weight of it was delicate but constant, a reminder of him. You wore it every day after that, like a piece of him was always with you, even if no one else knew what it meant. And in the days that followed, you caught yourself touching the necklace absentmindedly, like a reflex. Whenever someone asked about it, you’d smile and brush off the question, but inside, it felt like the necklace was tethered to a part of your heart that Trent had unknowingly claimed. You hadn’t yet figured out what it all meant, but every time you saw him after that, it was there—hanging between the two of you, unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a necklace. It was a shift, a turning point, a moment where you could feel something deeper taking root. You wore it like a secret, but deep down, you knew the truth. You weren’t the only one thinking about him. Trent was thinking about you, too. More than he could ever say. The necklace tethered you to him in ways you hadn’t yet fully realized. You wore it every day, and though no one else knew it was from him, he knew. It was like a private, silent confession, a symbol of something growing between you two, something neither of you had the courage to speak aloud. Even when you were with other guys—laughing with them, holding their hand, even kissing them—Trent would notice the necklace hanging against your skin. It was a quiet, painful reminder that no matter how close anyone else got, you were still wearing something of his. His. Trent winced every time he saw it. The sight of you with someone else, another guy’s arm draped around you, it hurt more than he liked to admit. But it was the necklace, his necklace, that held his attention, keeping him tethered to you despite the distance he tried to keep. It killed him to see you with them, laughing, kissing, as if they had some claim over you. And yet, there was that small, irrational part of him that found solace in the fact that, even in those moments, you still wore something he had given you.
That night, the night of your birthday, the hug—the way your body had pressed against his—was terrifying to Trent. The way your soft scent of cedarwood and violets lingered on his clothes long after you let go, the way your hands had touched him with that familiar warmth, all of it burned into his memory. He had hugged you countless times before, but this time was different. This time, it felt like you fit perfectly into him, like his body had been waiting for yours all along. And your laugh… god, the way it sent him over the edge. That night, it was like his walls were crumbling, every instinct in him screaming that this was more than friendship, more than some passing crush. It was deeper, more consuming than he could have ever imagined. Suddenly, the idea of you and him wasn’t just some distant dream. It was real. He was completely attached to you now, and that terrified him more than anything. But what was he supposed to do? Jack was his best friend. Jack… your older brother. Jack… his best friend since primary school. Trent couldn’t betray him like that. He couldn’t act on these feelings, no matter how much he wanted to. He shouldn’t have been so drawn to you, but every time you were near, it was impossible to ignore the pull between you. So he kept his distance as best he could, leaving you tied solely by a sentimental gift. He continued to see other girls, hoping it would distract him, help him forget. But nothing worked. Every time he kissed another girl, held another girl’s hand, there was a hollowness in his chest because none of them were you. They didn’t laugh like you, didn’t look at him the way you did, and they certainly didn’t smell like the Byredo al d'Afrique. Even as he pretended to move on, the memory of that hug—the way your body had fit so perfectly against his—haunted him. It was no longer just a harmless crush. He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to stop it. And the necklace, the first of many gifts that followed it, sitting atop your decalogue every day was just rubbing salt in the wound because no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, Trent knew the truth. He wanted you. He was completely, undeniably attached. And that terrified him more than anything else.
This year, It had been one of those birthdays you didn’t want to celebrate. The boy you’d been seeing had ended things, and you were still licking your wounds from the whole ordeal. Despite your reluctance, your best friend Layla and your brother, Jack had insisted on throwing you a party at the house. The decorations were beautiful, and your friends had shown up, making it as lively as it could be. But no matter how much you smiled, how many ‘thank yous’ you muttered, there was a hole in your chest that only one person could fill.
Trent.
Your brother’s best friend—who, at this point, was just that. A best friend of your brother. Nothing more to you. Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. Trent had been away for a match, he always was around your birthday so you hadn’t expected to see him at all tonight, but still, a part of you couldn’t help but pout as you realized he hadn’t even texted. He always texted. If he was away. He always made an effort. No matter where he was. It stung more than you wanted to admit. The night dragged on, drinks were poured, and laughter filled the air, but your mind was stuck on the absence of that one text message. You were lost in thought when you suddenly heard Layla’s voice, sharp and breathless, cut through the chatter.
"Oh my fucking God," she muttered, her eyes wide, fixed on something outside. Her hand gripped your arm tightly. You frowned at her, confused, but followed her gaze to the window. That’s when you saw him.
Trent.
He was stepping out of a sleek Mercedes G-Wagon, a bow—an actual bow—wrapped around the top of the car like something out of a commercial. Your heart stopped, your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, you didn’t register the car, didn’t understand what it meant. All you could see was him. He looked impossibly good, dressed in all black, his usual confidence radiating off him as he made his way up the driveway toward the house. Your mouth fell open, and you barely noticed the laughter that erupted around you. Jack and Trent’s friend Noah let out a booming laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Trent, you’re tapped," Noah chuckled, clearly amused. Jack stood frozen for a second, staring out the window with his arms crossed.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." He shook his head slowly, mumbling under his breath, Your heart was in your throat, pounding loudly in your ears. You felt like the whole world had slowed down as you watched Trent approach. Your eyes hadn’t left him, too stunned to even react properly. The car, the bow, all of it started to sink in, but none of that mattered as much as the sight of him standing at the front door, about to walk in. He had messaged you. Not with words on your phone, but with something far more impossible to ignore. Layla squealed with excitement, grabbing you in a tight hug, her energy infectious as she bounced on her toes. You were still in disbelief at the sheer grandiosity of the gift, staring out at the car parked outside with its oversized bow. But despite your shock, it seemed like everyone around you had expected something like this—teasing aside, they weren’t that surprised. Layla leaned in close, her voice dropping into a sing-song whisper.
“He loves you,” she teased, drawing out the word with a knowing smirk. You shook your head quickly, a small laugh escaping you.
“No, he does not,” you said, trying to brush off the idea. You wished he did, but in your mind, that was far from reality. You were just Jack’s little sister, nothing more.
“He’s just being nice.” Out loud, you were casual. Your tone was a little firmer, as if trying to convince yourself as much as her. Layla grinned, nudging you with her elbow.
“I wish boys were ‘nice’ like that to me.” She giggled. Meanwhile, Jack was dapping up Trent, shaking his head in disbelief but with a smile.
"You’re fucking insane, bro," Jack said, his voice carrying a mix of awe and amusement. "But… nice of you. She hadn’t been happy all night ‘til you showed up." Trent flicked his eyes to you, catching the beaming smile that had spread across your face. He smiled softly, a hint of pride tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew it wasn’t the car that had lifted your spirits. It was the fact that he’d made the effort to be here, to make sure your birthday wasn’t just another forgettable night. You walked over to him again, the warmth in your chest now overwhelming. You hugged him tightly, your arms lingering around his neck longer than they should have, his hands slipping lower than they should have.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “But I can’t keep something like this, T.” You cooed. He brushed off your words with a casual wave of his hand.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s yours, pretty girl. It’s in your name as well so...” He spoke softly and so you nodded, still overwhelmed by the gesture.
“Thank you,” you repeated, your voice softer this time. Then, in a moment of quiet vulnerability, you leaned in closer. “The car’s amazing, T, but I’m just happy you’re here. I’m so happy to see you.” You whispered. Trent’s smile softened as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn’t quite place.
“That’s all I wanted,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You happy.” In that moment, standing so close to him, everything else—the party, the noise, the teasing—faded away. All that mattered was him and the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room. As the night stretched on, the earlier excitement of Trent’s arrival slowly blurred into the haze of laughter, drinks, and celebration with everyone. But naturally, as you always seemed to, you found yourself tucked into a cozy corner with him, your head buzzing with the warmth of alcohol and his presence. The two of you were caught in that space where the party seemed distant, as though the music, chatter, and clinking glasses belonged to another world. Here, in this little bubble, it was just you and Trent, giggling over some joke neither of you could remember anymore. His hand rested on your waist, the touch light but electric, sending little shocks of awareness through you. You didn’t want him to move, didn’t want the moment to end. Each time you laughed, you leaned into him a little more, the casual way his fingers stayed on your side feeling like the most natural thing in the world. You both pretended like you didn’t know what you were doing—that the long looks, the lingering touches, and the proximity weren’t flirting. But they were, and you both knew it, even if neither of you was brave enough to say it out loud. You were swaying slightly, both of you tipsy, your heads fuzzy from the night’s drinks. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, mingling with the scent of the air that breezed in from the nearby window. Your stomach fluttered with every laugh, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much, and all the while, his hand stayed at your waist, like an anchor keeping you steady. Then, someone from the party stumbled past, bumping into you and sending you careening into Trent’s chest. For a moment, everything slowed. His arms instinctively wrapped around you to steady you, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You looked up at him, your face mere centimeters from his, and time seemed to freeze.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle, as though the world outside this corner didn’t exist. You nodded, biting your lip.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered, your words barely audible over the pounding in your chest. But neither of you moved. Your lips were so close, dangerously close. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the heat between you simmering just beneath the surface.
“Okay?” he asked again, his gaze flickering down to your mouth for the briefest second.
“Okay.” You nodded again, your voice catching in your throat.
“Okay.” He echoed. You two couldn’t get another word to even enter your brains. You were so fixed on these new feelings of closeness.
“Okay.” You smiled, breathless, and repeated. The word was like a lifeline, something to cling to as the air around you grew thick with tension. The more you said it, the closer you felt to losing control, but also, it was grounding. Keeping you both on the side of restraint. You both must have said it back and forth a dozen times, each ‘okay’ becoming quieter, softer, more charged. The weight of what wasn’t being said hung between you, heavy and undeniable. His eyes were dark, full of something that matched the way your heart was racing. The world felt like it was spinning, but not from the alcohol. It was him—his nearness, his hands on you, the way he was looking at you like he was holding himself back with every ounce of self-control he had. Despite the fog of drunkenness, there was a clarity in the moment. You both knew exactly what you wanted. It would have been so easy to kiss him. To close the gap and let the world slip away. You could feel his restraint in the way his fingers curled slightly into your side, in the way his breath hitched. You wanted it too. You wanted to close your eyes and let it happen, but something inside both of you whispered not like this.
For Trent, it was about not wanting your first kiss, your first real moment together, to happen in a blur of alcohol, where the next morning was uncertain. He wanted it to mean something. To remember every second. His mind was a haze of swirling thoughts, but one thing was crystal clear—he couldn’t do this, not like this. He wanted more than just a fleeting, drunken kiss. His body was betraying him, his thoughts as slurred as his worlds but he knew… not like this. For you, the reasons were the same, but more. Not drunk. Not in public. Not after he gave you a gift like that. You couldn’t risk the night becoming about the car or about a moment you wouldn’t remember with perfect clarity. You didn’t want the first kiss to be lost to hazy memories. You wanted to be able to hold onto it forever. So both of you stayed frozen, neither willing to pull away, but neither ready to cross the line. The air between you hummed with unspoken desire, but you both clung to restraint like a lifeline, knowing that whatever this was, it deserved better than tonight. Slowly, Trent’s hand slid from your waist, leaving a ghost of warmth behind, and he took a small step back bumping into the wall behind him, breaking the tension but not the connection. His eyes met yours, soft but full of promise, like he was telling you without words that there would be a right time. Just not tonight. You let out a shaky breath, smiling at him, and he smiled back. The moment passed, but it wasn’t gone. Just waiting.
Trent and your feelings needed to be locked away and one of the largest reasons was Jack especially. Growing up without your mum left a gap in your life that never fully healed. Her absence was something you felt deeply, especially in those quiet moments when you needed her comfort the most. Your dad did everything he could to support you and Jack, but eventually, the weight of memories became too much for him. Once you and Jack were old enough, he moved away, explaining that staying was too hard, but he’d held on for you as long as he could. Even with your dad far away, he stayed close in his own way. Yet, you still felt a sense of isolation that seemed impossible to shake. Your only true constant was Jack. He was more than just a brother; he was family in every sense, and when he succeeded in his career, he’d insisted you live with him. It was his house, but your home. Jack’s success had brought him plenty of friends, but none as close as Trent. You remembered the first time you saw them together as kids, the two inseparable on a football pitch, laughing and shouting like they were the only ones who mattered. Your crush on Trent had grown from those early days, blossoming from something innocent into something you couldn’t ignore. Your mum used to always tease you about it and you’d deny it but in retrospect she was right. Watching Trent grow into himself over the years only made things worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. Through your teenage years, you’d felt every moment of jealousy, angst, and longing when he showed up with a new girlfriend. Your crush wavered in intensity but never fully disappeared, flickering in the background as life moved forward. Now, though, it felt different. More possible. Jack was still oblivious, still the overprotective brother who’d sooner scare Trent away than entertain the idea of his friend being with you. But the way Trent had looked at you recently—the almost possessive glances, the magnetic pull between you—had left you wondering if the years of pining might finally be leading somewhere.
From the very first moment Trent walked through your front door, it was impossible not to feel the pull. And now…He was everything a girl could dream of: a sexy, successful Premier League footballer with confidence that was borderline delusional and a smile that made your heart race. Every time he visited, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline. You’d sneak a glance in the mirror, adjusting your hair, making sure you looked your best, hoping he’d notice you more than just as his best friend’s little sister. And Trent did notice. His eyes had a way of finding you across a room, holding your gaze a moment too long, his lips curling into that lazy smile that sent a shiver down your spine. Whenever he spoke directly to you, his voice was lower, softer, meant just for your ears. You savored every second he paid you any special attention. His touches—casual brushes against your arm, a hand lingering on your back as he squeezed past you in the kitchen—felt like electricity on your skin. You lived for those moments, those fleeting touches, and the way he seemed to light up when he was around you. You dated other guys, tried to create distance, but no one could ever quite compare to Trent. Each new boyfriend felt like a distraction, a poor substitute for what you really wanted. And it was never easy. Whenever your dating life came up in conversation, especially in front of Trent, you hated it. You could feel his eyes on you, a heavy gaze filled with something unreadable, something that made your heart clench. He didn’t like it either—you could tell. He’d get quiet, tense, like he was holding something back, and you’d wonder what he was thinking. But you were off-limits. Trent had made that clear without saying a word. He flirted with you in ways that made your heart pound, yet he always knew just when to pull back, to keep things on the safe side of friendship. He was careful, disciplined, as if he knew that if he ever let himself fully give in to what was simmering beneath the surface, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And so, he kept you at arm’s length, even though you could see the desire flickering in his eyes, could feel it in every lingering touch, every stolen glance.
Jack was a nerd… and his friends were nerds… Trent was a nerd and you knew this because you knew them all too well. To the outside world, to girls that knew them; they were a friend group of objectively good looking successful men but you knew better than that. You had been tagging along for years. Every week, whenever their friend group would convene at Jack's house predominantly to watch films. It began unintentionally but now… you made sure you were home that day. Your brother’s friend group had a tradition of movie nights—an excuse for a bunch of twenty-somethings to kick back in your brother’s house, or rather your house, enjoying each other's company and the latest blockbuster or old film they likely weren’t alive for when it came out but it was a ‘classic you have to have seen’ they’d tell you. They were a year or so older, all of them already finding their paths in life, with successful careers to boast about. It was one of the reasons you decided to live with your brother after graduating uni; that, and the lure of the sprawling, comfortable home he offered you. But, if you were being honest, the only success story you cared about was Trent's. Every time your brother mentioned one of these movie nights, you found yourself at home ‘by coincidence,’ always ready with a casual excuse about why you weren’t out with your own friends. Deep down, you knew why you stayed. You liked hearing Trent talk about his matches and his training, his voice animated with the passion he felt for the game. His presence in the room was magnetic, drawing your attention even when you tried to play it cool. Trent had a love for films that rivaled his love for football though. He cherished these nights, getting to be ‘normal’ hanging out with his friends and unwinding after a long week. But more than the movies, more than the camaraderie, what Trent loved most were those fleeting, stolen moments with you. When the group would start to drift towards the cinema room, you and Trent would linger in the kitchen, finding little excuses to extend those precious seconds together. Maybe it was grabbing a snack or pouring another drink, but it always ended up with just the two of you, your eyes meeting across the counter, a secret smile shared between you.
He’d take his time getting to the cinema room, always managing to sit next to you on the plush sectional. He loved the way you’d turn to him, your eyes bright as you asked about his latest match or teased him about something trivial. You didn’t even know it, but he lived for those moments—when your hand would casually brush his, or when you’d lean in just a bit closer, letting your arm press against his. The air would thicken with a tension neither of you acknowledged, but both of you felt deeply. There were times when you got a little more daring, your playful nudges becoming something more, your laughter a bit louder, your touch lingering. Trent would feel his breath catch in his throat, his heart pounding as he willed himself to stay composed. You had no idea how much those moments meant to him, how he silently prayed for them every time he walked through your brother’s door. He savored every second you paid him attention, every word you spoke to him, every shared laugh and every fleeting touch. Those nights were his guilty pleasure, a few hours where he could pretend, just for a little while, that the feelings he had for you weren’t forbidden, that there wasn’t an unspoken line he wasn’t allowed to cross. And every time you got a little braver, a little more handsy, you made it harder for him to keep pretending.
For you, at those movie nights, it was like there was a magnetic force drawing you together. No matter how crowded the room was, you’d always end up next to each other on the couch, under the same blanket, your bodies instinctively leaning closer. Not too close but his arm would casually rest along the back of the couch behind you, his fingers sometimes brushing your shoulder, sending sparks through your skin. The air between you crackled with tension, a tension that both thrilled and terrified you. You’d tell yourself it was innocent, that it was just because you were comfortable with each other. But in those dark, quiet moments, you could almost hear the unspoken words that hung heavy between you. It was a game you both played—pretending that being this close, sharing these stolen moments, was enough. But deep down, you both knew better. There was something between you, something powerful and undeniable, just waiting for the right moment to break free. And until then, you’d keep circling each other, caught in a dance of longing.
It was one of those balmy summer nights when your brother set up the projector in the back garden for a movie night by the pool. It was the first movie night of the summer, and the energy was already thick with a heady mix of warmth, laughter, and unspoken tension. The boys were sprawled out across the patio, beers in hand, enjoying the evening sun dipping below the horizon. And then you spotted him.
Trent.
"I didn't know you were back," you grinned, moving to stand next to Trent out on the patio, all of the other boys wrapped up in conversation of their own. This conversation alone though had been what he was waiting for since he got to the house.
"Yeah? Miss me?" he asked, his voice playful but with a hint of something deeper.
"Of course," you teased back, stepping into his embrace. The way Trent hugged you made your insides flutter… frankly it made you want to scream. He smelled like something familiar yet intoxicating, and the way your bodies fit together just felt right. His hands, as always, hovered just above the curve of your waist, teasingly close to somewhere more dangerous, igniting that tension you'd both danced around for so long. He meant that cuddle and you could feel it. Cuddles between you two know were like some sort of edging. It would get you off but never enough… not even close.
"Who am I supposed to sit with if you weren't here?" you teased, your voice laced with the familiarity of years of flirty banter. Ever since these movie nights started, you always ended up next to him-it was magnetic, almost like a tradition neither of you wanted to break.
"Well you're not sitting with anyone else," he said casually, but there was weight behind his words. Indirectly, Trent wasn't just talking about the movie. He meant it in a way that felt more like a promise, like he was staking a claim that went beyond who sat where on a garden chair. He was protective over you, in ways even your brother or anyone could never know.
"No?" You shook your head, smiling.
"No," he replied, his eyes steady on yours.
"Besides, who else is supposed to listen to you yap during the films?" He smirked and it was deadly. His smile was devastatingly handsome and it made your stomach flip.
"I don't talk that much," you quipped back, feigning offense. "You're so dramatic." you swatted at him, your fingers catching his chest just ever so slightly.
"I'm not," he retorted, the corner of his mouth lifting. "You just don't shut up." His fingers found your waist, pinching playfully, but his hand lingered a little longer than it needed to, sending a shiver through you.
"Sorry, I won't make a peep this time." You bit the tip of your pointer finger holding it between your teeth in feigned bashfulness unknowingly teasing him. He smirked, his eyes flicking over you with something between amusement and desire.
"Nah, don't do that. Your voice has become part of my favorite film scores now. Just meant to be in my ear." His words, low and teasing, held more meaning than you wanted to admit. You felt the heat between you, the invisible line you kept pretending didn't exist becoming thinner and thinner.
As more of their friends arrived you minded your own business trying to play nonchalant. But you hung around. You were nearby, casually bent over in your bikini, picking up something you’d dropped near the pool. The moment seemed innocent enough, but you were oblivious to the eyes trailing every move you made. One of Jack’s friends, reclining in his chair, couldn’t help but groan as he watched.
“Mate, not gonna lie, she looks better every summer.” His voice was low enough that Jack, who was inside grabbing more drinks, wouldn’t hear. It was a fine line but one that existed where this friend group was close enough to tease you, treat you like the younger sibling you were but also just close enough to simultaneously be attracted to you. You were less than a year younger than some of them, you were grown, and they knew that. And in the summer, when Jack set up the movies by the pool… you were a more than welcomed addition to movie nights.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Noah, chuckled in agreement, his eyes lingering on you for a second longer than they should. Trent was quiet at first, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his gaze elsewhere. But when he glanced up, seeing the way the sunlight caught your hair and how the curve of your body seemed effortlessly graceful, he slipped.
"She’s fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. “I mean.. She’s leng, you know?” He attempted to not wound so smitten but that was all the ammunition Noah needed. He shot Trent a look, grinning ear to ear, and shoved his shoulder with a teasing nudge.
“Bro, sod off and just admit you want to sleep with her. How long are you going to drag this out?” The banter took off from there, the boys piling on with their relentless teasing.
“Yeah, honest mate, stop pretending like you’re not into her,” another one quipped, the laughter bubbling up as they watched Trent squirm in his seat, struggling to deflect. Trent opened his mouth to defend himself, his words tripping over each other in the attempt to stay cool.
“It’s not like that,” he tried, but the boys weren’t buying it. They roared with laughter, enjoying his discomfort far too much. Noah, never one to let an opportunity slip by, leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Bro, we all know she wouldn’t think twice about letting you fuck her. Both of you are not fooling anyone.” He joked. Trent’s smile faltered for a second, but then it returned, a little weaker than before. His eyes betrayed him as they drifted back to you, drawn like a magnet, just as you stood up and turned around, meeting his gaze head-on. For a brief moment, everything slowed—the noise of the teasing boys faded, the laughter dulled, and it was just you and Trent, eyes locked in a moment heavy with something unspoken. You smiled at him, a casual, carefree grin, completely unaware of the conversation happening just feet away. The boys fell silent, their eyes darting between you and Trent, waiting for someone to make the first move, their teasing now hanging in the air like a challenge. Noah couldn’t resist breaking the tension. “Oi, Trentski, come on—tell me you two haven’t already hooked up?” The question hit Trent like a bucket of ice water. He straightened up, shaking his head a little too quickly, his voice firm and almost defensive.
“Nah, nah! Jack would kill me if he thought anything was going on. I’m not stupid. Nothing happened.” He said it with conviction, but the boys saw through it. He wasn’t lying, nothing happened physically, but something was going on. Their teasing resumed, but Trent was barely listening anymore. His mind was racing, the banter and laughter just background noise to the thoughts swirling in his head. Not stupid, sure… But in that moment, watching you, the line between caution and temptation felt dangerously thin. Maybe not stupid, but a bit horny for you, he thought, the words playing on repeat in his mind as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping no one would notice. You walked over, oblivious to the weight of the conversation you’d just missed.
“What’s got you lot creasing?” you asked, looking around at the group, your eyes finally landing on Trent.
“Nah, nothing. Just giving Trenty a hard time, as usual.” Before anyone else could, Noah blurted out an answer. He winked at you, and you furrowed your brow, confused but not pressing the issue. Trent smiled weakly at you, hoping to shake off the intensity of the moment, but as you stood close, your skin warm from the sun, he felt his pulse quicken. Every inch of him wanted to pull you closer, but he knew better. Jack would be back any second, and the boys were already wound up from teasing him. As you looked at Trent, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, just a little longer than they should have. And when he smiled back, there was something different in it—something soft, almost vulnerable. It sent a warmth through you, one you tried to ignore, but couldn’t. The boys resumed their chatter, their attention drifting back to harmless jokes, but Trent couldn’t shake the feeling. Every summer, he’d watched you grow into yourself, more confident, more radiant, and every summer, it became harder to pretend he didn’t want something more. The line between you had always been there—unspoken but understood—and he’d never been foolish enough to cross it. Until now.
The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything but you stayed in your tiny bikini, relishing in the warm weather. You laid stretched out in a tiny fuchsia crochet set letting the evening heat soak into your skin as Jack got the film sorted.
"Hey," Trent said as he came over, casually lying down next to you.
"Hi," you greeted back, glancing up with a soft smile. The way you were laying made your bikini push your tits together in a way you knew was hard not to notice. You couldn't help but tease, "I'm so glad it's finally summer." you cooed.
"Me too," Trent replied, though his focus wasn't entirely on the season.
"Yeah, you should be," you giggled, your eyes flicking over his bronzed skin. "You look better tanned." You teased him.
"Damn, alright." He feigned offense, but the smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn't too bothered by the comment. In fact, he liked that you were paying attention.
"Take it as a friendly suggestion," you teased, eyes sparkling. "Got any big holiday plans? You asked.
"Eh, some," he shrugged, but his attention wasn't on the holidays. It was on you-how the setting sun hit your skin, the way you casually lay there, completely at ease but still making his thoughts stray. You muttered a quiet ‘cool’ though; feeling slightly awkward. You knew Trent had a life outside of this, outside of you, filled with other girls, holidays, a footballer’s luxury lifestyle but he'd never flaunted it in front of you. Still, the thought of him away from here, away from you, left a weird pang in your chest. "Is it?" he asked, a glint of mischief in his eye. He knew where your thoughts went and he wanted to drag you back into lightheartedness.
"I don't know, you didn't tell me any details." You raised an eyebrow, biting on your finger with a flustered giggle. Unintentionally, Trent’s eyes were drawn to your lips.
"Maybe I don't want you keeping tabs on me," Trent teased, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I don't... I have zero interest in your whereabouts," you stuttered, caught off guard by the teasing tone in his voice and the way he was looking at you. You were lying and he knew that. Neither of you would say that though.
"That color looks good on you. Take it as a friendly suggestion." He leaned in slightly, his voice lower as he said. You watched, heart racing, as his tanned hand reached over, squeezing just above your knee. His fingers slid up your leg, hooking slightly under the band of your bikini.
"Serious though, it looks good," he repeated, his touch lingering. You almost blacked out.
"I got it," you smirked, swatting at his hand half-heartedly, pretending you didn't want him touching you when, in truth, it sent a thrill through you. "Thank you for your input. It's noted." You snapped.
"Good," Trent replied with a wink, his gaze lingering on yours a little longer than usual, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Noah watched the whole interaction between you and Trent with growing amusement, shaking his head before turning to Jack.
"Mate, you just let him go on like that?" he asked, motioning toward Trent, who was snapping the band of your bikini playfully against your skin.
"They're mates," Jack brushed it off, trying to seem unfazed. "It's not like anything happens." Jack's tone was casual, but the truth was he tried not to think too much about the way Trent interacted with you and you with him. You were the most important people in his life and he couldn’t imagine it past that. He couldn’t risk imagining there being anything more because he couldn’t risk losing either of you. He knew you had a crush on Trent, and Trent entertained it, but Jack couldn't believe Trent would actually act on anything. He laughed, trying to brush the situation off. "As long as it's not you, geez. At least I know Trenty doesn't have an STD." Jack smirked. Noah scoffed.
"Aye, Y/N, whatever happened to that Manny lad you were seeing?" Another boy, grinning, piped up. You blinked, brought out of the blissful haze of being near Trent, who was now lying beside you but his hand retreating after the other boys attention shifted to you.
"Oh... just stopped talking, I guess," you answered, your tone casual but clearly uninterested. That wasn’t really what happened but it was an easy answer.
"So he pied you, huh?" Jack teased, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you.
"No, I got bored," you snapped back, shooting Jack a glare. The relationship ended because the guy you were seeing was nicely put.. Insane. Also, neither of you were that interested in the other but Jack and his friends didn’t need to know the semantics. The details would probably enrage Jack so you let them think otherwise.
"Yeah, sure," Noah sarcastically added with a laugh, fueling the banter. You rolled over onto your stomach, attempting to ignore them, but you could feel Trent's eyes locked on the curve of your ass as your bikini shifted with the movement. The reverb of your ass had him locked in.
"So... bored, huh?" His gaze was hot, unmistakable, and he leaned in, his voice quieter now, meant just for you. You hummed in response, feeling the weight of his stare. Trent knew you had been seeing people here and there, and it always bothered him, though he tried to suppress the feeling. He tried to ignore this one, he really did. But this one specifically? The fact the guy you’d been seeing had played for a rival football club? It stung in a way Trent wasn't ready to admit. The idea that it was over, though, thrilled him more than it should have. Trent lowered his voice even further, leaning closer. "In what department? Besides the club he plays for?" He smirked.
"All of them," you replied with a knowing smile, your eyes gleaming as you added, "Bedroom specifically." You confirmed the answer he was skirting around. Trent smirked, his gaze darkening as he processed your words.
"Interesting, interesting. Y/N, you're always interesting," he muttered, he tapped fingers near your knee, the tension between you two palpable. His gaze flicked back up to your eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world-the jokes, the boys, the movie night-faded into the background. There was something simmering between you two, unspoken, but undeniable.
You were sprawled out on the couch, wallowing in the aftermath of said breakup days later. It wasn’t that you still had feelings for the guy, you knew your heart lied somewhere you couldn’t entertain but the sting of rejection lingered, clinging to you in a way you hated. Frankly, he treated you like shit, you should’ve been relieved you were out and you’d tried to brush the whole thing off, but the hurt of being left behind always cut deep. He blamed you for whatever and ended things and you hated being ‘broken up’ with. Your solution, as it had often been, was to go out—to drown the pain in loud music, drinks, and distraction. It was irresponsible but you found solace in losing yourself.
“What’re you up to this weekend?” Jack asked, dropping his bag by the door. He came home and saw you lounging on the couch, barely moving. You didn’t even look up.
“Going out Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and brunch on Sunday.” You told him in a monotone voice. Jack shook his head, clearly disapproving.
“I don’t like it, Y/N. You gotta chill. That kid was a prick anyway. You don’t need to do this” He told you. Jack was right, he was a prick but that barely scratched the surface describing how messed up he was but you’d never let your brother know. But what Jack did know was your habits. He knew you had a way of not necessarily acting out but finding comfort in strangers when things got scary, probably not in the healthiest way. You just hated being alone. You knew he knew all this so you bit your lip, not in the mood for another lecture, but your stomach twisted with his words.
“Whatever,” you muttered, shifting on the couch. Jack had his own way of coping with the way losing your mum affected you both. You went out looking for detachment whereas Jack was looking for meaning in relationships. In your opinion, it always seemed to be with people who were playing games with him. And lately, it involved spending more time with Megan, a girl he’d been seeing.
“I’m going out tonight with Megan,” he announced, and you immediately kissed your teeth, rolling your eyes.
“What?” he asked, frowning now.
“Nothing,” you replied, but the tension was unmistakable. He wasn’t going to let it drop.
“Y/N, what?” he repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “Go on… tell me.” He quipped. You sighed.
“I just don’t think Mum would like her.” The room went quiet for a moment. You didn’t know why you said it, but it slipped out before you could stop it. Jack stared at you for a beat, his expression softening. He felt bad so he let out a long sigh, shaking his head but smiling faintly.
“Y/N… I don’t think Mum would like what you’re doing either.” His words hit harder than you wanted to admit. You knew he was right. You’d been using going out as an escape, not a solution. Still, you weren’t ready to deal with any of it just yet, so you kept quiet. Jack stood up, getting ready to head upstairs.
“Noah and Trent are coming over later, they’ll probably stick around till I’m back, yeah?” As he left the room, he called back casually. Your heart immediately skipped a beat at the mention of Trent. Jack’s best friend, your longtime crush, the boy who had been increasingly hard to ignore lately. You sat up on the couch, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and nervousness churn in your chest. Trent was coming over, and suddenly, your evening was looking a lot more complicated.
You and Layla were standing in the kitchen, both sipping on iced coffee and talking about the party you had planned to go to later. The energy was light, and you were trying to distract yourself from your recent split by laughing about it. Trent was walking nearby, just out of sight, but within earshot as you rambled on walking back from the toilet.
"I just want a man who knows how to properly fuck me. I’d like him to actually know where my clit is this time," you blurted out, clearly letting your frustrations slip. "I mean, like, after all the crap with him, I deserve someone who knows what the fuck they're doing in bed, you know?" You laughed and Layla agreed wholeheartedly. Trent, who had been casually walking back to Jack and Noah in the other room from the toilet, froze the moment those words left your mouth. His mind short-circuited. Every fiber of him wanted to walk into that room and say something, but instead, he felt a surge of heat build up inside him. He couldn't think straight. This is what you were thinking about? He could show you. He could be the one to do that for you. He knew what he was doing in the bedroom. He could feel himself getting hard just hearing you talk like that. He needed to leave. He couldn't be around you right now, he couldn’t hear you right now, not with those thoughts filling his head. As Trent made his quick exit, trying to steady his breathing, Layla leaned in closer to you, smirking.
"So, what's your dream man then? Tell me more about this man who apparently knows where the clit is," she teased, eyeing you as you thought for a moment. Without missing a beat, you started listing off traits, unaware of how specific it was getting. You went through physical traits first.
“Like deep brown eyes, that can flick from sexy to cute really fast.” You told her as you continued to rattle on. "And athletic, someone who can actually keep up with me. He has to have a sense of humor, be a little protective but not in a weird way, you know? And, like, I just want him to look at me like I'm all that matters.” You cooed. Layla let out a playful laugh, nudging you.
"So….Trent?” She teased you. You waved her off. “Y/N, you just described him to a T!" Your eyes widened as it clicked, and you burst out laughing, slightly embarrassed but also secretly acknowledging the truth in her words. Meanwhile, Trent, oblivious to this part of the conversation, was already long gone, desperate to get himself under control and not think about what you had just said. You and Layla headed upstairs to get ready and after the lengthy process you came downstairs looking dressed to kill in a dark red leather set. [index ref] Trent’s jaw slacked whereas Jack lips pulled tight in annoyance.
"Y/N, that skirt is too short," Jack said, his voice stern as you walked into the living room.
His eyes narrowed in disapproval, making you roll yours. Layla, standing beside you, took your hand with a mischievous grin and spun you around for effect.
"Give us a spin!" Noah teased, his laughter making the room feel light. You playfully obliged, your matching set on full display for your audience as you spun holding Layla’s hand.
"Jack, I’m not changing, it's a set!" you whined, tugging on the skirt a bit. It was a good outfit, after all.
"Y/N, go change," Jack said again, his tone serious. Before you could respond, Trent, who had been leaning against the wall, stood up and casually walked by you, his presence sending a wave of tension through the room. As he passed, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear.
"Can see your ass," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. You froze, trembling slightly at his words, your mind racing.
“And..?” The whispered question slipped out before you could stop yourself, turning to face him, your heart pounding. Trent smirked, taking a step back, eyes lazily traveling down your body.
"That was all I had to say. Just wanted you to know." He cooed the words with a wink, leaving you on edge, a mix of frustration and desire coursing through you. Fuck, You just wanted to to ask him to just grab you right there. The desire to tell him to take this stupid outfit off you was nearly overwhelming. Your breath hitched as a thousand unspoken words passed between you. Jack, completely oblivious to the charged moment, snapped you back to reality.
"Y/N, don't bring anyone home tonight." He told you. You blinked, refocusing on your brother.
"I won't," you cooed innocently, giving him a smile as if everything was perfectly fine.
Trent smirked, stretching his arms above his head, looking every bit like a man who had just won some sort of conquest. There was a quiet confidence in his stance, as if he knew he had gotten under your skin but also that you wouldn’t get with anyone else tonight. He didn't even need to say more-he knew where you both stood, and it felt like the beginning of a game you were both playing but refusing to name.
Late that night, you stumbled into the house, laughing with Layla as you both attempted to be quiet but failed miserably.
"Laylaaaaa," you slurred, giggling as you tugged at the hem of your too-short skirt, "all he did was wink at me! And honestly, that did more for me all night than any man with his hands on me did!" You waved your hands dramatically, completely oblivious to the fact that Noah and Trent were still at the house, forgetting what Jack had told you. You really should call them roommates and not Jack’s friends for how often they overstayed. Layla snorted, steadying you as you wobbled on your heels.
"You are such a mess," she teased, trying to help you get your shoes off as you stumbled through the entryway.
"I just want his lips all over meee," you whined, pouting dramatically, and unaware of the fact that your voice was now carried into the living room where Trent was sitting. Noah glanced over at Trent, his brows shooting up in amusement as he heard you. You didn't even realize you'd been overheard, lost in your drunken haze. You didn’t need to say a name. They knew. Trent sat up a little straighter on the couch, eyes glued to you as you staggered into the house. His face was neutral, but his jaw tightened as your words lingered in the air. Noah shot him a look and smirked, clearly entertained by the situation.
"So, how was your night?" Noah called out loud enough for you two to hear, the teasing tone in his voice unmistakable. Layla shot him a playful glare.
"Don't make things worse, Noah," she said, though her lips were twitching with amusement. Trent, who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up.
"Y/N," he said, his voice smooth but commanding, "c’mere." Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. His tone wasn't playful or teasing like Noah's-it was firm, and it cut through your drunken fog in an instant. You turned to face him, your eyes wide, and despite the alcohol in your system, the weight of his gaze made you feel giddy. Without even thinking, you moved toward him, your steps a little unsteady but your focus completely on Trent. You dropped down onto the arm of the couch beside him, still smiling, but your stomach was in knots. Why was he looking at you like that? You couldn't quite read him, and it made your heart race. "I'm glad you had fun tonight," Trent said, his eyes not leaving yours. His voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you hold your breath. "I'm glad you made it back home... with Layla." Trent's voice was teasing now, but there was an underlying intensity in the way he was looking at you that made your skin tingle. His hand brushed against your knee, and even though it was a light touch, it sent sparks through you. His hands moved to hold your thigh to steady you from falling. But the way his massive hand looked, squeezing your thigh and the way he emphasized ‘with Layla’ implying he was glad you didn’t come home with a man sent a thrill through you. You bit your lip, trying to play it cool despite the fact that your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it.
"Yeah?" you cooed, leaning slightly closer, drawn to him without even realizing it. You giggled at absolutely nothing.
"Yeah," he nodded, his voice soft, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that made you squirm. There was a cheeLay glint in his eyes. He couldn’t not be mildly amused by you. You were grinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at him, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The sounds of the house, the fact that Noah and Layla were still there—it all melted into the background. All you could focus on was the way Trent was looking at you, his expression unreadable in your state, but his gaze unwavering. It felt like there was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and for a moment, you almost leaned in closer, your lips parting slightly as your body reacted instinctively. Noah, still watching from the other side of the room, exchanged a glance with Layla, but neither of them said anything. The tension between you and Trent was palpable, and it seemed like everyone in the room could feel it. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your cool. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been this close to him, or felt this aware of every single movement he made. And as much as you tried to play it off, your body was betraying you. The butterflies in your stomach, the way your pulse quickened with every glance-it was undeniable. Finally Layla pulled on the back of your top dragging you off the arm of the couch. You stumbled to stand. You swayed on your feet, eyes barely focusing as you leaned heavily into Layla’s grip.
“Layllllaaaa,” you whined, drawing out her name in a drunken slur, but she hushed you quickly.
“I know, I know, just shhh,” Layla whispered, firmly grabbing your shoulders and trying to steer you away from the living room where Noah and Trent were still watching, both amused and concerned. You weren’t having it though. You tried to lean toward her, but your balance betrayed you.
“I think he’s so pretttyyy,” you whispered—or at least, you thought it was a whisper. In reality, it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Your eyes landed on Trent again, and your sloppy grin only grew wider. Layla let out an exasperated laugh, her grip on you tightening.
“You’re gonna die tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath, trying not to laugh too much. Noah snickered, leaning back on the couch.
“Y/N, no.” He laughed. “Embarrassing this,” he teased, shaking his head. “Layla, get her to stop.” You waved off Noah’s comment, your eyes still focused on Trent, who was watching you with a mixture of amusement and worry. His brows furrowed as he stood up, clearly ready to help.
“Alright, need to get you to bed, drunk girl” he said, his concern more for your well-being than your drunken confession.
“No! No, you… stay right there, thanks, T, ” Layla said quickly, her eyes wide as she turned to face Trent, trying to keep him from getting closer. She knew that the moment Trent moved toward you, you’d start spilling even more of your feelings, and that was not something either of you could handle right now. Trent hesitated, watching you carefully as you stumbled a little in Layla’s grasp. He knew Layla was right, but his instinct to make sure you were okay was hard to ignore. He caught your eyes again, and for a second, you stared back at him, your drunken haze making you bolder than you’d ever be sober. “She was talking about a guy from tonight by the way,” Layla told them, trying to cover for you but it was a poor attempt. Her own words slurred slightly with a laugh. Trent’s lips twitched, and Noah chuckled. Layla was quick to save the moment, dragging you toward the stairs. “Okay, seriously, time for bed,” she announced, shooting Trent a look as if to say please don’t do anything else. As Layla guided you to the stairs, you couldn’t help but glance back at Trent one more time, your heart still fluttering despite the alcohol in your system. His eyes followed you, and for a moment, you swore he almost smiled, but he caught himself, shaking his head slightly. You were a mess, but something about the way he looked at you made your heart race, even in your drunken state. You slumped down on the stairs, too tired to get up them and drunk to carry yourself any further. “Okayyy, come on, we’re going upstairs,” Layla coaxed, looking down at you with a sigh. Turning to the boys, she teased, “You guys have a good night wasting away your 20s.” She shot Noah and Trent a look, knowing they could be out having fun, but had opted for a quiet movie night instead.
“At least we’re not wasted!” he retorted, grinning at Layla. Noah laughed, raising his drink in mock cheers. But Trent wasn’t amused by the joke. He stood up, his face serious, and moved over to where you were sitting on the stairs.
“Layla, seriously,” he quipped, giving her a knowing look. He understood the caution before but this was just dragging on. You needed to get to bed. So then he turned his attention to you, his voice softening. “C’mere you,” he said gently, and before you knew it, he had effortlessly scooped you up into his arms.
“Hiii,” you whispered softly, your voice slurring as you looked up at him. Your faces were close, so close that you could see the small cluster of freckles just under his eye, something you’d almost forgotten was there.
“Hi,” he replied, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he glanced down at you.
“You’re nice to me,” you earnestly confessed with a giggle, your words filled with drunken sincerity.
“I am,” he confirmed with a quiet chuckle, agreeing with you as he adjusted you in his arms, holding you securely. You gazed up at him, your drunken haze giving you a boldness you wouldn’t have had otherwise.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes briefly scanning your face.
“I do,” he admitted, but then added with a teasing smile, “And you’re also drunk, so get to sleep for me, yeah?” You gave a small, tired nod as he carried you into your room. Layla followed closely behind, making sure you didn’t stir up any more drunken confessions. As Trent laid you down gently on the bed, your head spun, but his presence was oddly comforting and igniting wild ideas in your head.
“You’re pretty too,” you mumbled drunkenly as your eyes fluttered open and shut, too tired to see his reaction. Trent smiled to himself, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before stepping back. Layla watched him with a knowing look but didn’t say anything, giving him space to exit quietly but he didn’t. "Laylaaa, the skims," you whined again, your voice slurring as you fumbled with the hem of your top. You were too drunk to manage even that simple task, your arms flailing in frustration. All you wanted was to get out of your clothes and into your favorite pajamas. Layla, herself a bit unsteady but far more sober than you, stumbled toward your dresser, trying to locate the pajamas you always begged for after a night out.
"Okay, okay, I'm getting them," she muttered, half-laughing as she rifled through the drawer, her own movements slowed by the alcohol. Meanwhile, Trent stood frozen by the door, his eyes catching on the scene before him. You, in your half-dressed, vulnerable state, were peeling your top off over your head, exposing more than you probably realized. His heart raced, and he suddenly found it very hard to look away. This wasn't the first time he'd seen you drunk, not by a long shot. But something about tonight felt different. The way your words had tumbled out earlier, drunk but still sincere— it was all seared into his mind. It wasn't the usual teasing banter he'd come to expect from you. It was raw, unfiltered, and it came directly from you this time, not overheard in the midst of a party not passed along by "T... you can go now," Layla interrupted sharply, snapping him out of his daze. Her voice cut through the fog in his head, reminding him of where he was and that he was dangerously close to crossing a line. She glanced at him with wide eyes and a cheeky grin clearly noticing the tension in the room.
"Uh, yeah, right. Shit, sorry," Trent mumbled, shaking his head like he was trying to clear the thoughts clouding his mind. He turned on his heel, moving toward the door as quickly as he could without looking like he was fleeing. But even as he walked away, the image of you
-tipsy, carefree, peeling off your clothes in front of him-stayed with him. Your tanned smooth skin, the ridge of your spin, the lace of your bra… it was all too much. His mind replayed the way you looked up at him earlier in the night, your gaze soft and inviting, and your words played on a loop in his head. He could still smell the faint hint of your perfume, still feel the crackling tension that had built between you. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment, breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his chest. He had to get himself together, or at least pretend to. Back in your room, Layla was still rummaging through the drawers, finally pulling out the set you wanted and tossing it onto the bed.
"Here, now get changed, you lush," she teased, her tone light but her eyes flickering with concern as she glanced at the door Trent had just exited from. You struggled into the pajamas, not noticing the shift in Layla's demeanor, or the way she seemed more aware of the strange charge that had filled the room. She hadn't missed the way Trent's eyes lingered a little too long on you, the way he hesitated as if he were fighting something within himself. "You're a mess, you know that?" Layla laughed, trying to bring the mood back to something light as she flopped down on the bed beside you. You giggled, too drunk to realize what had just happened.
"But I'm your mess," you teased, hugging a pillow as you settled into the bed. "Mmmm, I want a cuddle," you whined, shifting around in bed, trying to get comfortable grabbing a pillow. You buried your face in the pillow, but it wasn't the comfort you were after. Layla, sitting next to you on the bed, smirked.
"You can cuddle with me," she teased, pulling the blanket over you both and nudging you playfully.
"Nooo, I want a pretty boy," you pouted, your mind already drifting to Trent. You imagined what it would've been like if he hadn't left the room earlier-if he'd stayed, laid down next to you, and pulled you close. Layla raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.
"Oh, you mean the pretty boy who carried you upstairs and stared at you while you took your top off?" she teased, wrapping an arm around you and squeezing you tight in a playful hug. You could feel the laughter bubbling up between the two of you. "His nonchalance is such a fucking gimmick," she continued, shaking her head with amusement. "I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one's watching." You giggled, burying your face in your hands as a warm blush spread over your cheeks.
"Did he... like my tits?" you asked through a fit of laughter, your voice slurring slightly. A bluntness that was carried by alcohol. Layla chuckled, rolling her eyes.
"I think so," she said, playfully shaking her head. "Pretty sure that was the highlight of his night."
You both burst into laughter, the room filling with the sound of your drunken giggles as you clung to each other. Even in your tipsy haze, your thoughts kept drifting back to Trent. "Okay, sleep please," Layla begged, her voice tinged with both amusement and exhaustion. "You can suck his dick later," she added with a teasing laugh, trying to reel you back from your wild thoughts. You grinned mischievously, your eyes glinting under the dim light of your room.
"Mmm, I know it's big," you replied, almost dreamily, your head still spinning from the drinks and the charged energy between you and Trent. Layla groaned, shaking her head with a laugh.
"Y/N! I was kidding.” She laughed. “You're losing your mind! You can't do this to him," she scolded gently, though the smile on her face betrayed her own amusement at the situation. You huffed, trying to justify the tension that had been crackling between you and Trent all night.
"Maybe he wants it toooo," you insisted, drawing out the last word as if it made the case stronger. You could still feel the weight of his gaze from earlier, the way his hands felt when he carried you upstairs-it was all too real. Layla rolled her eyes, though her expression softened as she looked at you.
"Doesn't mean it should happen," she cautioned, her tone more serious now. "Jack's your brother, and Trent's his best friend. You're both walking a tightrope, and you might be taking it a little too far." Drunk or not, you knew she was right. Layla knew how much you liked Trent but she also knew how important Jack was to you. The alcohol made it easy to blur the lines, to give in to temptation, but Layla's words lingered in the air, a reminder that there was more at stake than just a one-night fling. As you drifted off to sleep, the night's events began to fade into the haze of alcohol. But for Trent, the feeling lingered. He knew you weren't just Jack's little sister anymore, and tonight had made that painfully clear. He wondered what would happen if you both ever acknowledged what was brewing between you, a tension that seemed to be growing stronger with each passing day.
•
Thank you for reading! I hope you like the beginning of this new series! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what you think is to come!
comforting your fiancé after he loses an important match
trent alexander-arnold x reader
A/N: back from the dead since my hand injury is healed now!! based on this request!
W/C: 1.584
"shit..."
you mumble to yourself, zipping up your handbag as you watch the liverpool game end.
you had taken one glance at trent, and you knew that he was absolutely heartbroken.
you wave at him, getting up to your feet to quickly get out of the stadium down into the parking garage.
your fiancé's team, liverpool had just lost one of the most important matches of the season, and you could only guess how horrible he and his team were feeling right now.
you bid farewell to the girlfriends and wives of the other players, knowing they weren't feeling their best either.
entering the parking garage, you fish your keys out of your bag, unlocking your car. you sigh as you step behind the wheel, shutting your door with slight frustration.
after sitting in silence for a moment, you look down at your phone when you receive a text.
"I'll meet you at home, love."
"gonna cool off a little first.."
you knew of your fiancé's need of wanting to be alone when upset. already with him for years, you had gotten familiar of the ways he'd try to calm down and find relief.
you send him a quick reply, starting your car and start driving away from the stadium.
It's only a half an hour later after you're home, and you hear the front door of your home open.
you jump up from the couch, running up to your visibly defeated looking fiancé.
"baby?.."
you call out, making eye contact with him as he drops his training bag, containing his match necessities. onto the floor.
"hi babe.."
you step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss his plump lips.
"you okay?"
you ask when pulling back, running a soothing hand up and down his muscular back.
"I'll be fine, eventually..
your heart aches at the dissatisfaction in his voice, and you pull him further into the home.
"why don't you go upstairs and take a shower. wash away some of the stress, 'kay?"
trent can only nod in reply, his bigger hands reach up to cup your jaw, and he presses a firm kiss on your cheekbone.
you soak in the touch, a pout forming on your lips when he leaves to take a shower.
you sigh, grabbing his training bag, sorting his laundry in the bins. knowing you'd rather do anything than nag at him for forgetting to sort out his bag today.
you wait for him in bed, changed and dressed into your loungewear. full face of makeup cleaned off , even after the upmost care you took of doing it before driving up to the stadium, only hours earlier.
the mood dip was absolutely insane, going from leaving the house happy, your favorite music blasting from your car speakers, to driving home in silence, with worry gnawing at you.
"honey?" you say, eyes on your fiancé as he steps out of the bathroom. beige towel hanging low on his hips, chest and his curls wet.
you push your immediate inappropriate thoughts to the back of your mind. after such a loss, you'd doubt he was in the mood anything remotely close being sexually intimate.
"I'm here, lovie.."
he mutters, scouse accent thick as he walks into the closet, you watch him as he dries off. lazily throwing on a pair of boxers and sweatpants.
"can you do my hair for me?"
the question comes out softly, like his voice is about to crack. you're confused at first, he'd never even have to ask if you could help him with his hair.
for you, it was a part of your love language.
putting product through the tight coils, making sure he's comfortable while sitting in front of you.
you quirk up a brow when he walks over, his muscles flexing with his brown skin. he leans over, slipping onto the covers, and resting his body against yours.
you support yourself on your elbows, reaching over to run a hand down his chest.
"of course, I'll do your hair. you don't even have to ask, baby.." you reassure, watching as he grunts softly at your touch. his eyes closing as if on instinct.
"good, 'cause I really need it right now.."
you hum, the pad of your thumb making contact with his mustache. giggling when he gives you a confused look.
"this is a good look on you, you know.."
you compliment, not wanting to bring up today's events just yet.
"yeah?" he asks, voice higher pitched than usual as his plump lips stretch into a smile.
"mhm, less of the goatee. more of the 'stache.."
"I wouldn't know what to do if my own fiancée didn't like my face.." he teases, finding humor in his situation, his hand reaching to poke your side.
"terrible situation to be in, I'd imagine.." you chuckle, swatting his hand away with a squeal.
"so squirmy.." he frowns, trying to suppress the smile forming on his face.
"c'mon.." he suddenly says, getting up from his position and grabbing at your thighs. hands wrapping around them as he lifts you up, out of the bed.
"woah?! where to?"
"bathroom, my hair is going to dry before I get any product in it.."
"right.." you respond, steadying yourself when you grasp onto his broad shoulders, looking down when he places you onto the bathroom counter. moving to stand in between your legs.
"you good?" he asks, hands reaching into a couple cabinets. magically placing all products right next to you.
"mhm.." you confirm, hands reaching up to his head of hair.
"can I touch ya?" you ask, wanting to avoid any unnecessary sensory overload, especially when you knew he was upset.
"of course. touch me all you want, lovie.."
you grin, already feeling the moistness of his hair, before carefully starting to take care of his hair. silky and delicious smelling products filling your senses.
his hands find their way to your thighs, fingers drumming on your skin as he looks at you. he's mesmerized by the care you're giving him. treating every single on of his curls utmost carefully and with overwhelming love in your eyes.
"and.. done.." you mutter after a while, your tired hands moving away from his dark hair.
"look in the mirror.." you urge, moving your head away so he can look in the bathroom mirror.
"oh, baby.." he mutters when he looks at himself, satisfied smirk on his face.
"happy?"
"you always do such a good job, lovie. not even surprised.."
he grabs a hold of your jaw, fingers touching your skin gently as he leans forward. placing a grateful and tender kiss onto your lips.
"thank you, lovie.."
"you're welcome.." you cheese, your fingers twitching from the amount of time you spent perfect his hair.
he frowns when he looks down, huge hands dwarfing yours, as he brings them down to the sink. gingerly washing away the oily product.
"how gentle.." you observe, quirking up a brow at trent.
"I've got to be gentle. my lovie just did my hair for me.."
your chuckle is cut of as he picks you off the counter, beeling you both back into your comfortable, awaiting bed.
"tired?"
"mhm.." trent hums, cuddling up next to you, hands reaching for yours in the dark.
"trent, baby.." you speak up, looking for his eyes in the dim light.
"yeah?"
"can we talk about it? please? I'd rather you not keep it inside and suffer without me knowing.."
"y/n- it's fine. losing a match, It's something I've gotten used to over the years.."
"I'm sure it still hurts, though?"
he goes quiet for a moment, his hands starting to massage your tired ones. each finger touching every bone and muscle to relax you to the upmost possibility.
"I'm just disappointed- and just mostly with myself.." he finally spills his emotions.
“I know, and getting the blame must be hard, my love..”
“it is hard, I just keep thinking if did more my best-"
“trent, c’mon you can’t be taking all the blame- especially when there’s a whole team behind the tactics and play..”
you sit up, looking at him with a stern face. he sighs in defeat, throwing his head back onto the pillow.
“i know that, i know..”
you huff, joining his side. he moves slightly, until his arms are wrapped around you. his warm breath hitting your neck.
"can I sing for you?" you say after a moment, playing with his hair.
"sing?"
he repeats, questioning your words.
"It's going to help a lot.." you mention, getting comfortable
“sure, go ahead, lovie..” he gives in, pressing a kiss to your collarbones.
"my only sunshine, my only sunshine.." you begin, voice as soft as possible as you sing.
you hear trent chuckle for a second, it breaks your focus, it making you sigh.
“your ruining the mood, baby..” you complain, scoffing.
“I’m sorry, baby.. go on..”
"you make me happy, when skies are gray.." your voice wobbles, and you suppress your laughter.
trent closes his eyes finally, breath turning shallow as he focuses on your softening voice.
"you'll never know, dear. how much I love you.." you kiss his cheek, warm skin touching the other's.
your warm hands rub his arms and shoulders. though, he moves suddenly burying his face further into the crook of your neck. his facial hair scratching against your skin.
"can I stay like this for a moment, lovie?"
"of course. anything you want.." you murmur, voice vibrating against his temple when you plant multiple kisses there.
Summary: You and Trent are only friends with benefits, well that's what you call it, but recently feelings have gotten involved between you two.
Warnings: Smut (18+)
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He was on your mind. Ever since the first time you two had done the deed, he remained planted in your head. Not only was he spectacular in bed, but he was a really sweet person aswell. He always asked if you were okay and if what he was doing was alright. Overall, he was a very respectful guy. He was never judgmental or anything, always accepting you for who you were and what you looked like. He never wanted you to be uncomfortable. The stereotype about footballers was that they were rude and only saw woman as objects, but Trent was the complete opposite. The last time you had seen him was a few nights ago when he slept over. To be honest, you didn't want him to leave in the morning, however you knew he had to. Just thinking about him would get you all flustered and when he was around, you tried your best to conceal it. You had been friends with benefits for a few months now and only that, but recently, you wished you two could be more than that. What was he doing to you? How was he making you feel like this? Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same towards you but immediately stopped, telling yourself that you were only a hookup to him, he was only respectful because he was a kind person. You wished you could see him more than you did, knowing he was a busy man.
As you pondered in bed, questioning what these new found feelings were, you imagined how many other women he was talking to at the moment. It didn't make him a bad person, but he was good with the ladies, let's just say that. On one hand, you thought to yourself, maybe he hadn't realised that you liked him. On the other, maybe he did. The way his dimples were highlighted every time he smiled, even a little. The way his big brown boba eyes sparkled in the light. The way his pearly white teeth brought out the niceness of his face. The way his soft facial features made you feel warm inside. The way his body was muscular but not too muscular. Everything about him was perfect. You really couldn't help it. It was past midnight and you couldn't sleep, laying down with horniness flowing through your body. This was not the time to be like this at all. Even though he was respectful, he was definitely a cocky man and you didn't want to boost his ego. You knew he would tease you about this but nothing could stop you from needing him. Deciding to swallow it up, you built up the courage and you texted him.
_____________________________________________
Trent
Trent
You okay?
im horny
Are you?😏
yeah
Want me to come over beautiful?
yeah
Okay
I'm on my way baby❤️
_____________________________________________
You were waiting impatiently for him to tell you he was outside. All you were wearing was a white long sleeve shirt and your black panties. You didn't bother to put on any pyjama bottoms because you already knew that it would end up on the floor as soon as you saw Trent. What was the point of putting on pyjamas, just to take them off? Trent didn't live too far from you, only around a thirty minute driving away. He was the only man you felt comfortable showing your body to but obviously you knew he was probably doing things with other women. Well, that was what you had told yourself, you didn't actually know if it was the reality. He had told you otherwise though.
When he pulled up, he called you to tell you that he was at your door. You didn't even respond, ending the phone call immediately and walking towards the door. You were hungry for him and you couldn't take it anymore. Trying to seem as calm as possible, you opened the door but you couldn't stop yourself from instantly smashing your lips against his. He kissed you back with pace, enjoying this very much. Since you weren't doing it, he made sure to lock your door for you. After that, he wrapped your legs around his torso as your arms were wrapped around his neck, continuing to make out with you. He knew your place off by heart and so he took you both to your room. It was always clean and you had told him your preferred to have sex in there. The more you kissed, the more you needed him. Trent was so careful as you carried you up the stairs, not wanting to hurt you in anyway. Your lips were still connected when you two had finally reached your bed. He gently laid you down and got on top of you.
"Hi gorgeous." He chuckled softly before you pulled him in to continue your kiss. It had occurred to him in his mind that he hadn't even got a chance to greet you at the door.
"Hi." You broke the make out session for a second and then swiftly carried on again. It was definitely steamy and as you kept going, it was getting more and more passionate. This was so amazing.
"So desperate for me." He spoke, moving down to your neck. You loved it when he kissed you there so much. He was so good at everything. He delicately slid his hand down your panties. "You're so wet for me already." He began rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to let out little moans.
"I did tell you I was horny." You reminded him in a tone indicating that you liked it very much. He was rock hard solid. Even though he liked when he made you feel so good that you couldn't speak, he also enjoyed hearing you talk when his dick was inside you, going in and out of you or when he was rubbing your clit because the whiny, moaning voice you let out was so sexy to him, especially since you would moan right afterwards. "Fuck." You closed your eyes, feeling the incredible sensation he gave you.
"Yeah, you like that baby?" He was the most beautiful, alluring and enchanting man you had ever seen and the way he planted butterflies in your stomach, you would've thought he was a gardener.
"Mmm." You could only reply, not having the slightest care about answering him with words. He took off your panties properly and took off your shirt carefully, trying to not mess up your bonnet and head scarf. Immediately, he started teasing your entrance which made you frustrated. He could see how badly you wanted his dick and he was going to give it to you eventually. When his fingers went in, you let out a little gasp, feeling the pleasure.
"Why is everything about you so perfect?" He mumbled to himself, hoping you wouldn't hear what he had just said. He couldn't even find the words to describe your beauty.
"Hmm?" You didn't understand it. One, what he said was so quiet that it was impossible to fully get it and two, you picked up a tiny fraction of it, all you heard was the word 'perfect'.
"Nothing- come here, let me feel your lips." With his other hand, he gently caressed your cheek before he leaned down a little to connect your lips again. He was the best kisser. Trent's fingers felt amazingly good, you were so thankful that he was extraordinarily handsome and amazing at sex. Your kiss was a slow one, letting the attraction between you two come forward. When tongues were involved, you were even wetter and you were already like the pacific ocean down there. You were letting out little moans which you couldn't control as you kissed. He needed you just as bad as you needed him. You had to pull away once he began fingering you faster and faster. "You're so fucking sexy baby. Do you know that?"
"Yes daddy." You moaned out. He always made you feel good, the only time when he made you slightly upset was when you were overthinking. He was always so addicting.
"If you call me that again beautiful, I'm gonna have to pound you." Trent voiced truthfully. He loved it when you called him that. He didn't know why.
"Please daddy." Hearing that, you pulled him down to kiss again. You couldn't get enough of his big pillow soft lips. It was as if they were on his face just to taunt you. He rapidly kissed you back of course, feeling one of your arms pulling on his shirt and the other still wrapped around his neck. He let you take his shirt off him, revealing his picture perfect abs and sweaty smooth skin. If you were to look up the word 'luscious', Trent Alexander Arnold would come up. "Mm..you feel so good." You were almost ready to climax, which he could tell as your walls clenched around his fingers.
"You're so close, aren't you baby?" He asked you, going at a faster pace. You're eyes closed by themselves for a moment before they reopened and rolled back. He smirked gazing down at you, knowing the affect he had on you and your body.
"Mmm." That was the last thing that you let out before he took his fingers out of you slowly, making you feel confused as to why he wasn't letting you cum. "Why did you stop?" You questioned him with a face you didn't realise looked innocent. However, you were far from that.
"Cos' I want you to cum with my dick inside you baby." Trent made sure you knew why he did it. You were so needy for him, it was unreal. He knew it aswell, him only getting more cocky. "Is that okay?" You nodded straight away. His dick was like a necessity to you. He gave you a quick peck before sliding down his sweatpants and boxers, taking them off completely.
After a few seconds, he lifted your legs up, separating them and he slipped his big cock inside your aching pussy. This resulted in you letting out your second gasp of the night. He began with a pace that ensured you felt comfortable but quickly sped up. You were making sounds you didn't even know you could make as he would grunt occasionally. You always had fantastic sex with him. Why was he so talented at this? He connected his lips to yours again as you moaned in his mouth.
"You're pussy feels so fucking good baby." You were in complete ecstasy when he said that to you. Your eyes had rolled back again and closed due to the euphoria. He could fuck you in any position and enjoy your pussy just the same. He loved doggy because he could see your perfect body arched infront of him while his cock went in and out of it. He also got to choke you, hold your boob and pull your hair softly. He loved missionary because he got to see your beyond beautiful face. He loved fucking you on your side because it was easier to grab your boob. He just loved whenever you guys were together. After a while of thrusting into you and feeling elated, Trent was close. With your tight walls clenching his cock, he could tell you were almost close aswell. "You gonna cum for me?"
"Mmm..." Was all that managed to escape your mouth, feeling the incredible sensation in your lower stomach. No one would ever be able to fuck you like this, which he had told you before.
"I need you to use your words, beautiful." He began to speed up so that he could get both of you to the finish line.
"Y-yes daddy." You used all the brain power you could to get those words out. He was the best you had ever had and unbeknownst to you, you were the best he'd ever had.
"Good girl. Cum for me." Your moans were getting louder and louder until they slowed down when you came. Trent had orgasmed at the same time as you. When there was nothing left in you, he gently pulled you back into a kiss and then helped you clean yourself up. What a gentleman.
He aided you in putting your pyjamas on properly so that you could finally get some sleep. You had decided to change what you had previously worn and put on a pair of pyjamas bottoms this time with a matching vest. "That was amazing, Y/N." He gave you another quick kiss before adjusting your noodle straps while he had already put on his sweatpants. After he had put his hoodie back on, you saw him making his way towards the door. "Bye beautiful-"
"Don't leave." He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you. "You can sleep over. It's late anyway and you still have your shorts and shirt you left here the other day. You can sleep in that." You recommended to him. You didn't want to feel lonely and your feelings for him were only growing.
"You sure?" He smiled at you with sweet eyes. He had slept over before, but tonight felt a bit different since he would get butterflies whenever he looked at you.
"Yeah." You confirmed, wanting him to come back to your bed. "I'll go get them." Maybe this was all you needed in order to get a good nights rest.
"Okay." Quickly, you went downstairs to go and grabbed his left over clothes as excitement took over your body. When you arrived back in your room, you saw him sitting on your bed waiting patiently.
"Here you go." You handed them to him. He could see how beaming you were that he was staying which he found very adorable. "You can go to the bathroom to change if you want."
"Thank you." He spoke before getting up and going into the bathroom. He was secretly joyous that you had told him to stay because it meant that he could spend more time with you. You were the only girl he liked and the only one he was really doing something with but if any other woman had asked him to stay, he wouldn't of. You were all he thought about sometimes and he couldn't help it. Leaving the bathroom when he had finished, he came back to join you in your bed. "Look at you not wanting me to leave."
"Shut up." You looked with him with a fake death stare. He giggled at your facial expression, pulling you in for another kiss. Every time your lips connected, you both felt butterflies in your lower stomach, emphasising your feelings for one another. "I just like having you around." He turned his head to smile again at your words.
"I like having you around too." Trent began rubbing his hand on your thigh slowly. He loved that you were comfortable with him. What made you more attractive was how forward you were. You weren't too shy to let him know that you wanted him to stay, you told him when you wanted to have sex, you told him when he was annoying you, what you wanted and so on. He didn't feel as though he had to walk on eggshells with you. You understood him and he understood you.
"I'm tired." You yawned, laying down on the bed and whipping your soft blanket on you. Trent was still sat up, observing you.
"Yeah, I bet you are." He gave you a cheeky grin, before laying down with you. He giggled again once you saw your face giving him his second death stare. After a while of talking, you two were on the verge of falling asleep.
"I don't wanna overstep or anything, but can we cuddle?" You proposed in a sleepy voice, waiting for his answer before doing anything.
"Yeah." He was going to ask the same thing if he was being honest. You were already turned to the side, not facing him so he got on his side and wrapped his arms around you. You were the little spoon.
"Good night." Your eyes were practically closing by themselves. Without thinking about it, you put your arms around his, feeling at complete peace with him.
"Good night beautiful." He repeated back to you. He liked calling you pet names because you guys had built that closeness, and when he called you 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous', he meant it.
Finally, you both had fallen asleep, content in each other's arms. You loved this so much and wished it could happen more often. You felt as if he was protecting you as his muscular arms hugged your waist. This was the best sleep you had gotten in a while and you were glad you were spending it with Trent. He had trouble sleeping sometimes. When he lost a game, he would sit and relive his bad moments and mistakes until his eyes closed. When he was stressed, he would lay and overthink about almost everything. When he was frustrated, he would normally stare off into space until he got over it eventually. However, when he was with you, he fell asleep instantly, feeling the comfort and warmth that you radiated. Also, the sex you had just had was too good.
The following morning, Trent was up before you but didn't want to wake you as you looked so tranquil still in his arms. You must have shuffled in your sleep because you were now on him with your arms around him. He could only gaze down at you with a soft admiration on his face. How did you look perfect even when you were sleeping? He began caressing your cheek very gently and kissed your forehead. That was what had woke you up.
"Morning gorgeous." He smiled down at you as your eyes fluttered open like butterfly wings. What a beautiful sight.
"Mm. Morning." Your voice sounded so sleepy and tired even though you had just awakened. You tightened your grip around Trent with your arms.
"You wanna keep cuddling?" Trent already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say it. He was going to give you what you wanted.
"Mmm." You replied before he carefully pulled you up closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck straight away while your head buried itself in it and he hugged your waist again.
Eventually, you both got up a while later. You had lent him a spare toothbrush that you had because you knew this wasn't the last time he was going to need it. After you both finished with your daily morning routines, you both met again downstairs in the kitchen. You could cook, but you weren't bothered this morning, so Trent opted for ordering you guys breakfast instead. You were both sat on your couch watching a movie, waiting patiently until your food arrived.
"Y/N, we need to talk about something." The scouser expressed, bringing you closer to him so that you knew it was about something important.
"About what?" You questioned him with curious eyes. This made you kind of nervous as his face seemed unsure about what he was going to say. What if he was ending whatever you guys had? You had no clue how to react.
"Us." He explained, still with an uncertain facial expression. It wasn't the first time he wanted to speak to you about this but he had to speak about it now. "I know you like me."
"Trent-" You were the one who didn't know what to say now. It wasn't as if it wasn't obvious now that you thought about it. You didn't hide it very well.
"It's okay if you do." He reassured you because he didn't want you to think he had a problem with it, in fact, he loved it. "You can't help who you like, especially since we have lots of sex. It makes sense."
"I mean..yeah I like you but obviously I understand if you don't like me. I know we're just like, friends with benefits so-" You continued by saying.
"I like you." He cut you off because he didn't want you to feel as though you had to ramble on. He couldn't stop himself from telling you.
"You do?" You were flustered by what he had said, having a familiar feeling in your lower stomach. You hadn't expected to hear that at all.
"Yeah." Trent grinned as he saw you blushing, before chuckling a little at your cuteness. He was so glad. "You're the woman I want Y/N."
"Stop-" You covered your face with your hands as you were sure it was noticeable that you couldn't stop smiling. It was so easy for him to make you like this. His giggling increased.
"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a date, when we're both free." He suggested with his heavy accent.
"I'd love to Trent." This was one of the best mornings you had experienced. You woke up in the arms of the man you liked, got free food, were told he liked you back and was asked on a date.
The food had arrived a short time later, causing you to be relieved as your hunger was through the roof. You both carried on watching the movie and then moved on to another, cuddling some more after you had finished eating. The cuddling did lead to a make out session, but who could blame you two. You didn't want him to leave but he had to go home, giving you a quick peck before he left.
Five months later....
You and Trent were dating now which you were enjoying every second of. He loved to spoil you and take care of you at the time. He came to your place way more often and the sex was still beyond amazing, as always. There was no one you would rather spend your days with. Your man was your biggest supporter and you were his, always showing up at his home games. You were living your best life.
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So, the Saka one is coming next as requested so stay tuned guys! I'm also going to be writing another Tchoua and Jules one x
