Football Imagines - Tumblr Posts

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re a tease, asking for things you supposedly already have. Trent catches on... eventually.

A/N: This is my first social media AU so bear with me if it absolutely sucks, also my first time writing for Trent so a bunch of firsts going on today. Enjoy!

Warnings: not much, just a lot of fluff and shite captions lol

...

yourusername | 📍Venice, Italy

tagged venice.explore and calvinklein

liked by yourbsf, calvinklein, and 17,786 others

yourusername can I call you later?

view all 2671 comments

user1 pretty ladyyyyyyy

calvinklein summer collection has never looked better 😍

— yourusername have never loved a black dress more

yourbsf photo creds and the second glass are all me.. right?

— yourusername ofc 😇

user2 omg i need to go to venice asap

user3 i thought you were in la this week for a photoshoot with hudabeauty??

— yourusername next week!! super excited omg 🩷

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, andyrobertson94, and 946,716 others

trentarnold66 Recharging 🔋

view all 76,936 comments

andyrobertson94 Right, there’s no need to flex the arms 😒

— trentarnold66 I was just bending them? 🙃

liverpoolfc Back at camp soon ❤️

— trentarnold66 💪

user6 BYE TRENT FINALLY POSTED HOLIDAY PICS SO I CAN SLEEP NOW

user7 can you choke me with those arms thanks bae

— user8 so real 🤣

judebellingham No invite lad? I see how it is 🫤

— liked by trentarnold66

…

yourusername

tagged hudabeauty, hudabeautyshop, and kayali

liked by hudabeauty, trentarnold66, and 30,651 others

yourusername Coming to you… July 👀

view all 9862 comments

yourbsf A DREAM IM SO PROUD OF YOU BABE

— yourusername i love you 🥹

user4 aaahhhhhhh this has been such a long time coming!!! remember ur youtube videos when u used to review their products?

— liked by trentarnold66

hudabeauty A literal real-life doll 😘

— yourusername says the literal makeup magician ❤️

user5 TRENT LIKED????

— user9 who’s that?

— user5 ONLY THE BEST RB IN THE WORLD WHAT

…

trentarnold66

liked by liverpoolfc, yourusername, and 976,816 others

trentarnold66 Singapore 🇸🇬 Feels real good to be back.

view all 126,625 comments

liverpoolfc What’s up, Vice Captain? 💪

— trentarnold66 🫡

user10 liverpool’s very own ❤️

yourusername damn.

— liked by trentarnold66

virgilvandijk Let’s get it!

user5 OMGGG THEYRE DEFO DATINGGG WAIT

user12 don’t know who yourusername is but she’s verified and trent liked her most recent post now she’s commented on his???? i smell a new couple 👀

…

yourusername | 📍 Liverpool

tagged liverpoolfc

liked by trentarnold66, harvelliott, and 29,872 others

yourusername bleeding red today, bleeding red everyday

view all 11,463 comments

user12 she does know trent’s mural is literally opposite hendo’s right? 🧐

— liked by yourusername

— user12 OMG SHE LIKED MY COMMENTTTT

harvelliott love it 🌹

— user5 DUDE WHO IS THIS GIRL DATING OMFHDJSJSE

trentarnold66 Hmm

— harvelliott 😂

yourbsf fit went hard.

— yourusername not everyone’s agreeing w u 😒

— yourbsf you mean….

— yourusername shh

…

…

trentarnold66

liked by judebellingham, liverpoolfc, and 817,625 others

trentarnold66 Skipper today but winning in front of you is the best part ❤️🏟️

view all 262,527 comments

user5 IS HE TALKING ABOUT YOURUSERNAME

— user13 bro you lot reach sm wtff he’s obviously talking about the fans lmao they played at home today

judebellingham serious player

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should I say congrats?

— trentarnold66 Only if you’ve changed shirts

— yourusername so take off yours then

— liked by trentarnold66

…

…

yourusername

liked by yourbsf, trentarnold66, and 96,726 others

yourusername my mom approves

view all 70,637 comments

user5 I CALLED IT FROM THE START YESSSSHDHDHSHSHHS YALL ARE SO CUTE

yourbsf ok trying to convince ppl that i’m the other one in ur pics is getting harder and harder to do

— yourusername 😂😂

trentarnold66 Shirt’s all yours

— yourusername took you long enough

— trentarnold66 I got there in the end 🙂

yoursister does that mean I get to keep Harvey's shirt now?

— yourusername i bet you've already taken it anyway

— yoursister if I speak I’m in big trouble

…

trentarnold66

tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, andyrobertson94, and 1.2 million others

trentarnold66 Dear Darling ❤️

andyrobertson94 Congrats Brother 🫂

— liked by trentarnold66

yourusername should’ve posted the pic where you were preeing my old yt vids

— trentarnold66 I don’t recall that 🤨

— yourusername little liar

— trentarnold66 Little? Who’s the liar now?

— user12 YALL ARE SOOOOOOOO

user5 I WANT MY FINDERS FEE 👩‍⚖️

harvelliott Beautiful 🤩

…

Masterlist

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

A/N: This is me writing in hopes to distract myself from that abysmal final! Just to preface that Lee Richardson is the performance psychology consultant at LFC :) Also, I feel like Trent’s quite shy so I don’t think he’d be as rude as he is in this fanfic but for this to be a kinda enemies to lovers, I upped his rude boi energy by like 100% lol

There's no age gap btw! In the UK, it's doable to become a licensed sports psychologist in 6-10 years. If it took Reader 7/8, that would place her around 25 or 26 years of age. So, both Trent and Reader are of similar ages!

Warnings: psychology but nothing too in-depth, Trent’s rude in this :D, angst, very tense energy

Word Count: 1.9k words (6 mins reading time avg)

…

You checked your watch once, twice, then three times within a mere five minutes.

The sterile office, with its minimalist decor and muted lighting, seemed to magnify your impatience. Your eyes wandered to the vacant chair opposite you, and you sighed deeply.

Trent Alexander-Arnold was now fifteen minutes late for his first appointment.

“Not the best start,” you muttered under your breath.

Jotting a quick note on a pink Post-it to purchase a digital clock for your desk, you flipped the pen and clicked it shut, placing it down with a resigned finality. The email that landed in your inbox felt almost comically timed. It was from Lee, wishing you luck on your first official day.

You’d been in and out of the training center for the past week, organising your office, which had previously served as a spare room, often only used for the odd meetings.

Boxy and unfamiliar, it was a space you intended to transform into something warmer and more inviting with time. But any attempt to distract yourself proved futile; even the mental image of your office becoming a cozy haven couldn’t quell the unrest you felt inside.

Trent’s absence was more than a minor inconvenience; it felt like a deliberate message. After what Lee had disclosed about his rather aloof attitude, you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised.

Locking your office behind you, you ventured into the heart of the training facility. As you passed by groups of players and staff, your shoulders tensed imperceptibly. You adjusted your pace, trying to find a balance between caution and confidence.

Every corner turned, every nod exchanged with passing colleagues, felt like a small test of acceptance. Your mind raced with thoughts of proving yourself here. While a flicker of self-doubt danced across your features, you masked it beneath a veneer of professional composure.

You eventually found Trent tucked away in the far corner of a sparsely populated gym. A few exchanged ‘good mornings’ and ‘hellos’ momentarily eased your stress, but your tension returned as your gaze settled again on the man who had been purposefully late.

With a deep breath, you started heading towards him, weaving your way through the labyrinth of gym equipment.

You skirted around the treadmills, their rhythmic thudding echoing your own anxious heartbeat. Passing by the clanking weights, you dodged a few stray dumbbells left on the floor. The aroma of rubber mats and iron filled the air.

Finally, you rounded the weightlifting machines and found Trent on a mat, engrossed in his exercises. His headphones were still firmly in place, and his expression remained inscrutably focused, as though he was blocking out the world around him.

When you finally reached him, you hesitated, wanting to wait until he finished his set so as not to disturb his workout.

However, Trent spotted your reflection in the mirror in front of him as he came up. He stopped mid-crunch, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He looked down, knowing exactly what this would be in regard of. He’d seen you around the training grounds enough to be familiar.

His elbows rested on his knees as his arms folded inward. He exhaled deeply, trying to regulate his breathing.

He wiped the tip of his nose with the pad of his thumb, then pulled his headphones off and let them rest around his neck.

“What?” He looked at you with mild irritation, craning his neck to see you standing just a few steps behind him.

Your lips pressed together in a courteous and tight-lipped smile.

“Hi, Trent. I’m Y/N, the new psychologist. We had an appointment scheduled for twenty minutes ago.”

Turning back to face the mirror, he stretched his arms out in front of him before reaching for a hand towel to wipe the sweat from his brow and neck.

Then he shrugged, his indifference palpable.

“Yeah, I know.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his response as you studied his expression in the mirror. His face shifted subtly, but the changes were too fleeting to decipher.

“Then why didn’t you show up?” you asked, your tone calm but firm.

"I don't see the point," he responded flatly.

In one fluid motion, he planted one palm firmly on the ground before twisting his torso and hoisting himself up with a push, turning to face you as he rose gracefully to his feet.

Your eyes locked inevitably, the proximity of his body left you no choice but to gaze up at his face, your chin tilting ever so slightly upward.

Beads of sweat glistened from his forehead, and his mouth was slightly parted as he scrutinised you from head to toe. A scoff escaped him before he turned away, sliding off some weight plates and placing them methodically beside his mat.

"I don’t need some shrink telling me how to play football," he asserted dismissively, the hints of his accent colouring his defiant tone.

You took a moment to consider your response, your gaze tracing the broad shape of his shoulders. Despite the urge to react defensively, you couldn’t shake the awareness that someone might be listening in from behind you.

You cautiously approached him, aware of the tension hanging in the air, his eyes flicking to your reflection in the mirror.

"I'm not here to tell you how to play football," you began calmly, letting the weight of your words settle between you. "I'm here to help you navigate everything off the pitch that might impact your performance on it."

"Well, thanks, but no thanks," Trent said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've managed fine so far."

“Have you?” you questioned, quickly scanning the room for any prying ears, relieved to find everyone engrossed in their own routines.

Trent rose up, clutching a 15-pound weight plate between his hands.

"Because from where I stand, the club thinks you could use some support. And honestly, there's no shame in that." That was a saying your professors had instilled in you from day one.

Trent's jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might ignore you. Instead, he pivoted to face you once more, his presence suddenly palpable.

"Look, I get that you're just doing your job, yeah? But don't expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else's schedule." He emphasised.

You blinked, but maintained eye contact, refusing to back down. "Fair enough. But I'm not going anywhere, Trent. Whether you like it or not, I'll keep trying to reach you."

He studied you for a moment, then shook his head slightly, leaning in just a bit closer.

"Good luck with that, psychologist."

…

"I think that's our time wrapped up, thank you so much, Conor." You hoisted yourself up with the armrests of your chair and gave a warm smile to the man opposite you.

"Yeah, no worries. I'll see you around." Conor said as he turned, rounding the chair he was just sitting on, giving you a final nod and smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.

You waited until it clicked shut before you sinked into your chair again. Your work was deeply important to you, one of few things in life you were immensely passionate about, but man, it took its toll on longer days.

You rubbed your temples in a poor attempt to alleviate the dull ache that had formed from hours of conversation. As you tried to gather your thoughts, the interruption in the form of a new email snapped you back to reality.

It was from Lee, asking you to come and see him when you were free.

Your head rolled back for a brief moment of respite. Trent had been on your mind ever since your confrontation earlier, lingering in the back of your thoughts throughout the day, despite the overall improvement as the hours ticked by.

Resigning yourself to more work, you pushed yourself up with a temporary surge of motivation. Straightening your blouse and combing your hair with your fingers, you headed towards Lee's office across the hall.

The door stood ajar, a silver name plaque bearing his name neatly affixed. Lee's office exuded an air of scholarly authority, with shelves lined with books, framed certificates adorning the walls, and strategically placed pieces of Liverpool memorabilia.

He glanced up from his desk as you knocked on the doorframe.

"You asked to see me?" you inquired, your head tilting slightly as he closed the folder he was reading, sliding it into the filing cabinet behind him.

"Yes, come in," Lee replied, gesturing toward the chair positioned across from him.

You smoothed down your skirt as you settled into the chair, intertwining your hands on your lap.

His demeanor exuded encouragement, warmth evident in the gentle lines of his smile. As he gathered his thoughts, your eyes fell upon a framed picture on his desk. Lee stood on the far left, flanked by several players including Trent and Curtis, their bright smiles frozen in time.

Your own smile deepened at the sight, noting how much younger they all appeared in the photograph. But as today's events replayed in your mind, your gaze momentarily lowered before returning to meet Lee's.

"A few years ago, that one," he pointed briskly at the photo, though he didn't give you time to respond before changing the topic - a relief, in your opinion.

"So," Lee clasped his hands together, "first official day? How'd it go?"

Pushing back thoughts of Trent deliberately, today had gone rather well.

"Good, honestly. Wataru and Conor were a little shy at first, but I think I was able to break through by the end of our sessions. Curtis was quite bubbly and a joy to talk to. We had some positive discussions too." You truthfully answered, giving a polite smile to round off your answer.

He nodded, impressed. Without a word, he turned to squint at his computer screen, his glasses perched atop his head. "And Trent?"

You cleared your throat, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip nervously. After a moment's hesitation, you shook your head once before answering.

"Trent didn't show up." You admitted with a wry smile. "I found him in the gym and brought it up but I wouldn't say that was a positive discussion."

Lee chuckled softly, his voice carrying a gentleness that belied his words. "Trent’s a tough nut. He’s got a lot on his shoulders and doesn't easily trust new people. But that's why you're here."

You nodded resolutely. "Absolutely. I don't intend on letting up."

"If you want me to step in-" He began but you shook your head again, halting him in the middle of his sentence.

"I respectfully don't think that's going to help. He's not exactly trusting of me right now, and I'm worried about the impression you stepping in might leave. I'm fortunate he's at least talking to me and sharing his feelings." You said with a measured tone, your words careful and tinged with a hint of apprehension.

"Well, you're the pro," you smiled at his joke, exhaling a sigh.

"I'm relying on your guidance, Lee. I can only hope he'll start working with me."

Lee nodded thoughtfully. "Trent respects effort and authenticity. He's introverted, sure, but once he's comfortable, he's a lovely lad."

"I'm sure," you blinked, fiddling nervously with your fingers.

Once he's comfortable.

That shouldn't take too long, you lied to yourself.

...

Part 2

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

A/N: Here's Part 1 if you haven't read it already!

Warnings: mentions of divorced parents, sister lives w/ Reader, awkwardness, cliff-hanger but not that big of a deal tbh so soz anyways

Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)

…

"Kaia! You're going to be late!" You yelled from the kitchen, your voice echoing through the hallway.

You hurriedly placed sandwiches into a fresh sandwich bag and then slipped it into her college bag.

"Okay, okay. Can you chill?" Kaia's voice, slightly muffled, floated down from the end of the corridor. You rolled your eyes, placing her water bottle next to her bag with a practiced sigh.

"No, I can't. You can't be late again, they've already sent two letters home about your attendance." Your tone was firm but laced with a hint of concern.

"For being 10 minutes late? Bit extra," she retorted as she finally appeared, her hair still slightly tousled from sleep.

"No, for always missing your first class even though I always wake you up on time," you countered, a frown creasing your forehead.

"So?" Your sister shrugged, nonchalant as ever.

"So, if you get kicked out, you have to live with Mom or Dad. You know the deal." Your voice softened a bit, hoping the reminder would make her see reason.

"Fine, fine. I'm going." She sighed heavily, zipping up her jacket with a dramatic flair and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You stopped her at the door, walking over to the far counter. She turned back to you with a very loud, exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Water bottle." You tossed it to her, which she caught mid-air, before she turned to leave.

"And make sure you go to-" Slam. You winced at the sound of the door shutting so harshly, the finality of it echoing through the flat. Your shoulders slumped.

"Class," you finished lamely, the word hanging in the air.

"Why am I a mom before I'm a mom?" You mumbled to yourself, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

You slid your phone off the counter, texting your dad a quick update that your sister just left. You'd let it slip about her attendance letters the last time you spoke, and now it was a regular point of concern.

A quick 'good' and thumbs up emoji followed seconds later.

Your eyes flickered over to the clock hung on the wall, noting there was a measly half-hour left until you were due at work.

Luckily, the office was barely a ten-minute walk from your flat. You packed your bag at a steady pace, making sure you had everything you needed. As you descended the stairs to the ground level of your complex, you waved to a few of your neighbors, all of them scurrying off with their children to avoid being late for school.

Some things never change.

...

You juggled a stack of papers that Lee had handed you right at the front entrance.

You eventually approached your office but with your keys clutched awkwardly in your other hand, and your bag precariously draped on your shoulder but now threatening to slip off, you fumbled to fit the correct one into the lock.

The papers teetered on the brink of tumbling from your grasp, prompting a flash of irritation to cross your face.

Just as you were about to lose your grip on them entirely, Curtis appeared at your side. "Need a hand with that?" he asked, his accented voice made him sound friendly and slightly amused.

You looked up, relief washing over you. "Yes, please."

He took the stack of papers from you, his easy smile making the moment feel less chaotic. With your hands free, you managed to unlock the door with ease.

"Thanks, Curtis. You're a lifesaver."

"No problem at all," he replied, plopping the papers onto your desk with a subtle thud.

"So, who'd you piss off?" he asked, pointing his chin at the stack of papers.

You chuckled, dropping your bag by your desk and draping your cardigan over your chair. "I haven't a clue, probably God."

He laughed, turning his shoulder to the door. "Are you coming down to the canteen for breakfast?"

You paused, considering the invitation. "What's on the menu?" You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, powering on your computer.

Curtis grinned. "Just about everything. You name it, they’ve got it."

You smiled, the tension from moments ago melting away. "Sounds tempting. I'll be down in a bit."

Curtis nodded and exited swiftly, leaving you with a sense of belonging. You'd been most worried about fitting in, about getting along with the players beyond mere professional courtesy. If you were going to be working with them for the next few years, building friendships was essential to you.

And maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

You made your way down the stairs for the second time today, smiling to a few familiar faces as you walked to the canteen.

There was a black board right out front, with the times for breakfast and lunch clearly displayed on it.

Your phone buzzed just before you entered. It was a message with a photo attachment from your sister.

You quickly opened the notification, letting the picture download. A ghost of a smile touched your lips as you rolled your eyes; it was a picture of her iPad showing a class presentation, with her classmates surrounding her.

You typed a brisk response before locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket.

Inside, there weren’t as many people as you’d expected. An equal mix of staff and players, some recognisable and some not.

Those you did recognise were engrossed in their conversations, laughing, smiling, some serious - a mixture of emotions painted on everyone’s faces.

It was refreshing to see something other than an email inbox for the first part of your day.

But there was one person’s emotions you couldn’t quite understand.

His back was facing you, but after staring at it during most of your confrontation a few days ago, it was clear as day as to who was standing at the front of the canteen.

You wrestled with your thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of approaching him. Mostly cons, if not all, but you couldn’t build true relationships with the players if you shied away all the time.

Crossing the floor, you grabbed a plate from the stack at the beginning of the serving line. You couldn’t help but steal a few glances at his body language; you were a psychologist, after all.

His tense shoulders and slightly furrowed brow told you he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but you pressed on.

Maybe it was just his resting face?

“Morning, Trent,” you greeted him with a smile, trying to keep your tone friendly.

He glanced at you briefly, unsurprised by your presence, likely having noticed you long before you approached.

“Psychologist,” he muttered, not making eye contact as he focused on the food in front of him.

“I must say, I admire your professionalism,” you quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, though the ensuing awkward silence made you regret your attempt.

“Any plans today?” You ventured.

“Training,” came his curt reply.

“Routine must be comforting,” You remarked, trying to maintain a conversational tone.

“Why are you talking to me?” he abruptly stopped in his tracks, his tone sharp.

You were fortunate to notice his halt in movement, otherwise you could’ve bumped into him if you hadn’t.

But judging by his build, you doubted even a nudge would’ve stirred him. His cold stare bore into yours, and you fought to maintain composure.

"Because I think you're a great conversationalist," you said with a smile. He paused briefly, rolled his eyes, then slid his plate off the tray rail and walked away.

A faint chuckle escaped you as you watched Trent walk away, his expression guarded. Sighing inwardly, you turned back to the serving line, reaching for a piece of toast with a mix of amusement and resignation.

One of the canteen ladies, her silver hair neatly pinned back and wearing a crisp white apron over her uniform, approached you with a knowing smirk.

Her eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief as she leaned closer. “Wow, haven’t heard a conversation that awkward since my first double date in ’97.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, grateful for her light-hearted approach. “Yeah, it was pretty rough, wasn’t it?”

You let a brief moment of silence pass before you continued.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Y/N,” you said, extending your hand.

Carol, as she introduced herself, took your hand with a firm shake. Her affable demeanour was a stark contrast to Trent’s disinterested reception, one you welcomed.

“Ah, the young psychologist. Lee’s mentioned you a wee bit. I’m Carol. Been working here since the beginning of time, or so it feels.”

“You look as young as me,” you complimented with a smile, noticing the genuine kindness in her eyes.

“Oh, stop it,” Carol chuckled softly, waving off your compliment. “How are you finding it here?”

You shrugged in response, glancing around the canteen before meeting her gaze again. “You really want to ask me that after what you’ve just overheard?”

Carol nudged your shoulder playfully. “I’ve heard worse back in my day. What’s happened between yous two?”

“Nothing,” you reassured her quickly. “He’s still getting used to me being around.”

“Well, if he’s anything like the Trent I know, he’ll come around at one point, just keep pissing him off,” Carol joked cordially, her voice carrying a touch of wisdom.

You nodded with a bright smile, tilting your head. “Yes, ma’am.”

…

As you sat in your small office, you locked your phone after messaging your sister to warm up dinner for herself, knowing you’d be home late.

Your mind wandered again - to your family, to your work, to him.

The glow of your laptop screen illuminated the dimly lit room. You had been poring over articles for what felt like hours, hoping to uncover more about him than he had revealed to you personally.

You had always found the internet to be your greatest ally when working with clients, especially world-famous athletes.

You wanted to delve deeper into understanding the anomaly that was Trent Alexander-Arnold, to move beyond your brief and often contentious interactions.

With a few clicks, you eventually navigated to interviews featuring him.

The first video showed him discussing mental health in football, a topic he approached with surprising openness. His words were measured yet sincere, revealing a vulnerability that contrasted sharply with what you had witnessed so far.

“I guess I’m not as trusting as some of the other guys on the team,” Trent admitted on screen, his gaze sincere as he spoke directly to the interviewer’s camera. “I’ve never been comfortable sharing my personal issues, outside of my family. There’s always a fear of judgment.”

You watched intently, feeling a pang of empathy as Trent’s words resonated with you. It was as if he was sitting right in front of you, confiding in you directly.

In another interview, Trent discussed the pressures of fame and the struggle to balance his private life with the demands of professional football.

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he spoke, revealing glimpses of a man grappling with expectations far beyond his years.

As you paused the video to let his words sink in, Trent’s earlier rebuke echoed in your mind.

“Don’t expect me to pour my heart out to some stranger. Especially on someone else’s schedule.”

Then suddenly, a light bulb went off in your mind as you rattled through all the different strategies you were taught at university.

You realised that perhaps your approach with Trent had been too clinical, too focused on schedules and protocols.

Without hesitation, you opened your email and addressed a message to both Arne and Lee.

Your fingers tapped out a request, concise yet loaded with implications that only you understood fully.

For now.

…

Part 3

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

A/N: Check out the masterlist for the first two parts if you haven’t read them already! Also, thank you so much for the kind comments on my posts, they mean more to me than you’ll ever know!

Warnings: this one’s a bit more fluffy, still a very reserved Trent tho

Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)

…

The first match to kickstart the club’s season was undeniably close.

The pressure had been mounting palpably in the last few weeks, evident in the increasingly focused, sharper, and heavier training sessions.

You didn’t have a personal experience with them, more so the ones that Conor had been complaining about.

But despite being unable to travel to the US, you’d personally assumed that preseason had been a success.

You’d caught highlights when they dropped and heard murmurs of staff satisfaction with certain performances circulating around the centre.

You hadn’t been able to get many sessions in though, only a touch few with Conor, as he was your top priority given his age.

He’d done remarkably well the previous season under Jurgen when top performances were needed, but working on his mental stability was always a key factor and one of extreme importance.

"Congrats," you smiled warmly as the Irishman approached, his own smile mirroring yours. You acknowledged his successful time in America.

“You must be feeling great,” you remarked, smiling gently.

His dimples were evident as he nodded, a sense of fulfilment telling in his stance. “Yeah, yeah. It was good, enjoyed it proper.”

You let him continue on, giving brief welcomes and some hugs to the players as they piled in one by one within the hour before their training began.

You felt a pang of frustration as Trent walked directly past you, refusing to even meet your eyes as he acknowledged only a few of the staff who were standing off to the side.

Dismissing it, you turned your attention to Wataru as he approached next.

You needed to focus on the players who were working with you. It was crucial, especially as the season was fast-approaching.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

“Y/N,” you glanced back, a smile forming as you spotted Arne trying to catch your attention.

“How are you doing?” He asked as you fell into step with him, continuing to walk down the corridor towards the gym where he was headed.

“Good, yeah. You?” You kept it short and sweet, fully aware that he was a busy man.

“Doing okay. About your request you sent before preseason,” Arne continued, prompting both of you to stop and face each other, a hopeful anticipation in the air.

“It’s fine with me and Lee doesn’t have any issues with it. But, if there is no improvement, then the sessions will need to resume as planned. Okay?” He nodded affirmatively.

“Yes, of course. I-I understand. Thank you.” You replied gratefully, your appreciation evident as he patted your shoulder before leaving you.

…

The city was buzzing with activity as match day quickly approached. Red flares blazing around the city, shirts and scarves already adorned the day before.

The players were being put through their paces in the final training session before the big game. Having an hour free in the mornings after your request was approved meant you could utilise it in a different way.

You observed the session from the sidelines, making mental notes of the players' demeanours and interactions. Trent was, as usual, intensely focused. Every movement, every touch of the ball deliberate.

After the session had concluded for the day, you made your way to the changing rooms. Some were discussing tactics, sharing jokes, and some were lost in their thoughts, mentally preparing.

You approached Conor, who was pulling his boots off his feet, and sat beside him.

"Ready for tomorrow?"

He looked up, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I think so. Just need to stay focused."

"Remember what we talked about," you reminded him gently. "Always be ready, visualise your game, see yourself succeeding."

Conor nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raised his fist, and you met it with a bump. "Thanks, Y/N. It helps, you know."

A wave of relief washed over you. Reminding yourself that you were doing a good job was one thing, but hearing it from someone you always tried to help was another.

"I'm glad," you said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Upon hearing Arne clasp his hands together, forcing everyone to quiet down and hear the gaffer out, you silently gave Curtis and Wataru a nod before slipping out of the room.

As you turned, you nearly collided with Trent. He tutted, sidestepping in order to slide past you and into the changing rooms. You'd hoped that once he was informed of your approved request, he'd be slightly less frowny.

But seemingly, the opposite was happening.

…

You had just finished Curtis' report when a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Mustering a tired smile, you called out, "come in."

Lee popped his head through the door, and you rose from your chair. "Hey, everything okay?"

He entered the office, closing the door behind him but not completely. With his hands raised in mock surrender, he said, "yeah, yeah, all good. I just uh wanted to ask if you caught Trent." "I thought you approved my request?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I did," he confirmed, stepping forward. "But I saw Trent hanging around your office just after training." "What? Why?" you asked, bewildered. You tried to think back to earlier, but all you remembered was that you were definitely not in your office. "He didn't say. Didn't seem happy, though." Lee shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight on to either feet. "Not much difference there, then." You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. "I'm confused. If he knew about the request, why would he show up?" You asked, and the senior consultant shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. You both thought about it for a moment until Lee spoke again, "are you sure Arne let him know?" Your head tilted, mouth slightly parting as realisation dawned on you.

Oh.

"I'm pretty sure Arne didn't because you were meant to," you said, trying to keep your tone casual despite the frustration creeping in.

The first session Trent had supposedly shown up for, you weren't even there. Suddenly, his avoidance of you after you'd exited the changing rooms made a lot more sense. He must’ve just come down from your office. "I was?" Lee asked, clearly taken aback. You let your head fall back in exhaustion but slowly nodded moments later. Shuffling through the papers on your desk, you found the one you needed and handed it to Lee. He scanned over the text, before he looked up again.

“Y/N, I feel terrible. I can go find him." Remorse painted itself across his features.

"It's okay," you replied. "It's better if he hears it from me." You aimed to justify poorly.

Because you had a very successful track record of not pissing Trent off, obviously.

...

Later in the day, you found yourself back in the canteen, grabbing a quick coffee.

It was well past noon, but with the mountain of reports you needed to write about the players' psychological states before tomorrow, caffeine was your only ally.

Trent walked in, looking for a snack. Being on the bottom of his 'I don't want to talk to you' list every day meant the outcome of your conversations with him were quite forseeable.

Deciding to address the elephant in the room, you walked up and pushed all doubts to the back of your mind. You reached out and touched his arm to get his attention, and he reacted immediately.

He turned to face you, and you lowered your hand slowly.

“Can we talk for a second?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His jaw hardened. “I'm busy.”

"I promise it won't take long." You countered.

"Considering I don't care about your promises, that don’t mean shit to me." He's on a roll with the irony, you thought to yourself.

You glanced at a sympathetic Carol who was standing on the other side of the serving station.

"Please?" You blinked slowly, praying to the powers that be to instill some patience in the man.

He picked up a bag of trail mix, before watching your face for a few seconds. You were half-expecting him to tell you to eat shit, but you were wrong.

An unusually pleasant surprise.

You nodded to a quieter corner and led the way, with him following behind before you whisked around.

"I'm so sorry." You fiddled with the cup of coffee in your hand.

Past his hardened anger, you'd felt bad for him. The courage to have shown up only to be let down isn't a feeling that would've altered his perception of you.

"I don't care." His gaze bore into yours, unyielding.

You frowned slightly. "I do. I told you I'd keep trying to reach you and-"

"What's your point?"

His eyes travelled down to your fidgeting fingers before dragging back up to your face. He sighed, clearly bored.

"Lee was meant to tell you," you paused, gathering your words. His eyes narrowed.

A flush of guilt coloured your cheeks. "I put in a request before preseason to cancel our sessions together."

You looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. The crease between his brows was prominent. "It was approved, and Lee was supposed to tell you, but he must've forgotten."

It hurt to let someone down. As a chronic people-pleaser, this likely frustrated you way more than it did Trent.

He leaned against the wall behind him, bringing one knee up. He crossed his arms but his eyes lightened. "So, you're telling me that..."

He paused to pop an almond into his mouth. "You admitted defeat?"

Either he was smirking, or you were being incredibly delusional.

You shook your head. "No, I never gave up on you. I thought maybe you needed a different approach." Explaining your previous actions felt pathetically awkward.

His lips pressed together. "Or maybe you just couldn’t handle it."

You rolled your eyes, your features still guilt-ridden. "Does that make you happy or something?"

His eyes roved over your features, and for a moment, his expression softened.

"Oh, you have no idea, psychologist."

You swallowed, feeling a flutter of surprise. Your eyes widened slightly, the gentleness in his features unexpected.

Just then, Curtis walked by and caught the tail end of your conversation. “Are you two flirting or fighting?” He teased, winking at his Scouse counterpart.

Your expression didn't change, but Trent looked over, staring at him. “Can’t you tell the difference, mate? Your missus must have a hard time putting up with you.” He remarked a little too quickly.

Curtis' mouth fell open as some of the players snickered at the exchange. To your surprise, Trent let out a genuine laugh - an unfamiliar sound that retained your attention.

He pushed off the wall and ambled over, casually draping an arm over his friend's shoulder.

On another day, maybe you would've joined into the jokes that were being thrown around but you were oddly rendered silent.

His almost playful disposition was a complete contrast to the tension that had clouded your interactions since the day you'd met.

It was almost as if he genuinely believed he was rid of you, and this moment of levity was his way of signalling relief.

You took a deep breath.

The casual banter, although lighthearted, felt jarring. Without another word, you walked out of the canteen, the enigma of his sudden change nagging at you.

As you exited, Trent’s gaze followed you, his eyes tracing your retreating figure. He seemed poised to follow you, a sign of a subtle, perhaps unconscious shift in his stance.

His eyes lingered on your departing form, as if grappling with an unspoken urge to either see where you were going or say something to you, though he wasn't quite sure what.

Yet only as he started to move, Curtis' voice cut through the moment. "Oi, where you off to?" Trent shook his head, a half-smile still playing on his lips as he rejoined the group.

Oddly, his attention remained fixed on the door for just a bit longer, as if expecting you to turn back around, before he fully immersed himself back into the conversation.

…

Part 4

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

A/N: I have so many ideas for this series but I can't get too carried away otherwise its gonna end up longer than a book lmaooo, also super random but this idea came to me from rewatching Trent and Robbo’s wingmen episodes and in one of them he goes, “team bonding!” verryyy heavily in his Scouse accent lol

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being overworked but nothing too harsh, general stress, this is a cute one ok ur welcome

Word Count: 2.7k words (10 mins reading avg)

...

“Why you so sour for?”

You glanced up to see your sister plopping on to the sofa, grabbing the TV remote off of the glass table situated in front of you. Her expression was curious, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated arc. You’d forgotten you’d even put a movie on.

Closing your laptop, you ran your palm over the cool steel surface.

“No reason. It’s nearly time to go to bed, what are you doing?” You watched as she navigated the TV menu, opening the ITV app and clicking on Love Island.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me you like that stuff.”

She smirked, not taking her eyes off the screen as the latest episode began to play. “No one likes it, it’s just funny as fuck.”

“Hey, why do we need to swear?”

“For expression,” she replied with a shrug, as if that was a valid reason.

“Express yourself in other ways.”

“Like what?” She challenged, finally looking at you.

You paused, a little stumped. “The world is your oyster, go and find some.”

She snorted, clearly unimpressed with your wisdom. You hoisted yourself off of the couch, tucking your laptop back into your work bag and zipping it up.

Kaia paused the show, turning so her knees were on the sofa, looking over the backrest to see you better. “Fine, but that doesn’t answer why you’re in such a mood.”

“It’s just work,” you admitted, leaning against the counter. Your eyes traced the outlines of your sister’s old drawings hung on the wall. “A lot more pressure than I’m used to.”

Her eyes lit up with youthful curiosity. “How’s the job going? Met any really fit guys yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that all you care about?”

“It’s important! C’mon, spill,” she insisted, leaning forward.

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “The job is good. Stressful, but good. As for fit guys.. there's.. I don’t know, a few? I’m there to work, not flirt.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased.

You chuckled, tossing a freshly washed blanket you’d just pulled out of the dryer at her. “Oo, thanks,” she said, catching it with a grin.

You rolled your eyes as she sprawled out on the couch, the music of the show coming to life once again.

You pulled the rest of the sheets from the dryer, shoving them into the laundry basket to fold in the morning. As you wiped down the counters and finished the dishes in the sink, your mind wandered again.

Arne, Lee, and the club had all been incredibly supportive since your arrival, but the internal pressure you’d carried from university - to be the best, to never fail - was fading. Wataru, Conor, and Curtis were all doing great.

From your reports, you were instructed to make Trent the priority, at least to gather enough information for a new evaluation.

But how could you do that with a player who seemingly wanted nothing to do with you?

“Y/N?” Your sister’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning to face the back of the couch.

The show paused again. A beat of silence hung in the air.

“No one’s giving you a hard time, are they?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned, “of course not. Why would you think that?”

“We’re pretty notorious for being hated.” Sadness poked through the tone in her voice.

“Nobody hates us, Kaia. And no one is giving me a hard time at work, I promise.” You tried to sound reassuring. She was a kid and she meant well, of course she did, but she didn’t need to know the full truth. She was your sister, not a therapist.

“Okay. Cause you do know I’ll fuck ‘em up, right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in amusement. She picked her head up to let you sit then rested it in your lap. You pulled her hairs away from her face, combing them back with your fingers.

“With your swears?” You teased.

“I got a mean punch."

“Which I hope isn’t being put to use, thank you very much.”

“I’m an angel, really.” Which she tried to pull off in an innocent way that really didn’t suit her.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sceptical but smiling.

She chuckled, turning her head to face the TV again.

“Come on, let’s watch this shit show.” You said playfully.

“I thought you said no swearing.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

“That rule doesn't apply to 25 and above people.”

“Let me guess, when you turn 26, that rule’s gonna be extended by a year?” Kaia asked, her lips curling upwards.

“Precisely.” You smiled down at her as she rolled her eyes, playing the show.

Your smile faltered almost immediately. You subconsciously continued smoothing over Kaia’s hair, but your mind was plagued with thoughts about work, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, about him.

...

The first two matches of Liverpool’s season had come and gone in a flash. But, despite in how much of a blur it passed, the level of work every day only surmounted the work of the days before.

But you could take it. If you couldn’t handle psychology, you’d probably be useless at everything else.

The new week began, and the first thing you spotted in the mountain of emails was an update. Your cabinet for the office had arrived, courtesy of the club, who were happy to cover the costs once you'd submitted your request.

You swivelled your chair to face the desk phone, dialling reception downstairs. The phone rang twice before Annika's cheerful voice answered.

"Hello," she said brightly.

"Hey, it's Y/N from upstairs. I got an email saying my cabinet had arrived. Am I okay to collect it now?" You asked, glancing around your office and imagining where the new cabinet would go.

"Oh, don't worry," Annika replied with a smile in her voice. "We'll send someone up to drop it off for you."

"Really? It's honestly no bother," you said, feeling a bit guilty about causing extra work.

"No, I insist. They’ll be up shortly," she reassured you.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," you said, a note of relief in your voice.

"No worries!" Annika chirped.

You hung up the phone, feeling a bit lighter. Come to think of it, you really didn’t fancy carrying a ton of weight up the stairs and potentially embarrassing yourself to any bystanders.

Once you’d gone through your emails, creating your to-do list for the day, you patiently waited for your cabinet to come.

But it didn’t.

You tried to put it to the back of your mind, focusing on ticking off the first two items on your list before your first session. Yet, even as you checked them off, you found yourself glancing at the door, expecting the cabinet to arrive at any moment.

An hour passed, then another, and still no sign of the delivery. The anticipation was starting to wear on you.

You glanced at the clock situated on your desk, wondering if you’d be able to make it back in time for your session with Conor.

But just as you were ready to leave, there was a knock on your door. You walked over to open it, expecting only the Irishman. There he was, but also holding a large brown box with an outline of your cabinet on the front.

“Uh-” You couldn’t register what was happening.

“Mind if we come in? Don't fancy holding this all day.”

We.

You realised you hadn’t responded as Trent lifted his head to stare at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You opened the door, standing off to the side. You allowed them to come in and they placed the box upright against the wall.

"Annika mentioned she'd send someone up, I didn't think she meant the players." Conor chuckled, motioning to his trusted helper.

"Yeah, well, Brian was going to bring it up but he got busy so reception asked if we could help. We were coming up anyways," he explained.

“Oh. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of genuine gratitude. You glanced at Trent, and a heavy silence ensued.

“Yeah, whatever,” Trent muttered, his tone dripping with indifference, leaving almost immediately. You let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Conor, who had been observing the exchange with a wry smile, exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

“He’s warming up to you,” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smirk.

“Aw, you really think so?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin.

“Sit down,” you said, gesturing to the chairs. You both laughed softly as you walked over to shut the door.

Yet, an unsettling frustration gnawed at you from within. Trent had always been distant, but after weeks of being here, he still showed no signs of letting his guard down. You were no stranger to the challenges of being a psychologist, it's not like this was your first job.

But in the past few days, self-doubt had crept in. You wondered if you were even fit for it; maybe the pressures of working for one of the most prestigious football clubs in the country were finally catching up to you and kicking you in the ass.

You shook your head, feigning a smile as you returned to your desk, starting your session.

...

“Is this upside down?” You muttered to yourself, flipping the instructions around again.

What use were instructions if they had no text under them?

You debated calling your dad, but the lecture you’d receive about the hours of manual labour he used to put you through every time a new piece of furniture arrived at the house was not worth it.

“Okay. Wood, screws, knob, cabinet. Perfect.” It was only a small one, so you weren’t worried about the height of it per se, just worried about everything else.

You slumped onto the floor, surrounded by longer and shorter pieces of wood with a bag of screws and one handy screwdriver that you were currently twirling between your fingers.

Just as you were about to try again, a voice broke through your concentration.

“What are you doing?”

You gasped, your hand instinctively going to your chest as the paper floated to the ground.

“Oh my God,” you exclaimed, breathless and startled. “Can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” Trent replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Did you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to recall when you heard a knock reverberate through your office.

“No.” He admitted.

You huffed, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment at falling for his joke.

“Funny.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

To your surprise, he plopped onto the sofa situated by the side of the wall, near the door. Your eyebrows raised slightly.

Trent, sitting on your sofa, in your office, willingly? This was new. Only today, you were doubting yourself if you’d ever be able to get through to him and yet here he was.

You didn’t want to overanalyse the situation but it was hard to ignore the significance of it. Maybe he was finally starting to let his guard down, even if just a little.

There was a strange combination of nervousness and relief running riot inside of you.

Rather than drawing attention to it, you chose to stay focused on the task at hand, wary of saying anything that might reinforce his emotional walls.

“I’m trying to build a cabinet, if you must know.” You didn’t want to sound as annoyed as you were - not necessarily by the man you were conversing with, but more so by the wooden contraption that was puzzling you to your core.

He peered over the armrest, then slowly returned to his original position. “Making a lot of progress, it seems.”

“How nice of you to state the obvious,” you replied calmly, but your mind was racing.

“It’s late, how come you’re still here?” You asked, trying to make conversation. He just shrugged, pulling out his phone from his trouser pocket.

You gave a half-smile. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he was still here, and that’s what mattered to you.

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed by, and you were officially ready to give up. Resting your head against your desk, still seated on the floor, you were on the verge of admitting defeat and calling your dad.

Your attention was diverted by a soft creak from the sofa frame. Trent stood up, and you looked up at him, squinting as the ceiling light shone brightly.

“You heading out?” You asked, your voice tinged with resignation.

He took a small step to the right, blocking the light from hitting your eyes. He glanced around, as if debating something.

His mouth parted slightly.

“Move over.”

What?

“Huh?” you said, bewildered.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, motioning to the pile of wood still stacked in various directions. “Move.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” He replied blandly, yet still entertaining your conversation. A few weeks ago, he would’ve murdered you.

You glanced down at your cabinet, which was rather resembling modern art, then back up at him.

“Are you suggesting women can’t build things?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head downward, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Women can. It’s just you that can’t. Wanna disagree?”

Your pressed your bottom lip up to your top, as if you were actually considering the idea. “I’d love to argue, but you’re lucky I’m too tired right now. Maybe come back tomorrow and we can pick up where we left off.”

“Move over or I’m leaving,” he said, a touch more firmly.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You chuckled.

You scooted over, making room for Trent to sit beside you. He settled on the floor, crossing his legs. There was a fair amount of distance between you.

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he took a look at the instructions a few times, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for his unexpected help.

His presence was a welcome distraction.

You couldn’t deny you were entirely useless as he separated the pieces, lining them up to get a full look at everything, ensuring nothing was absent.

“Screwdriver?” He asked for quietly and you cast a quick look around, spotting it underneath a plank of wood.

“Here.” His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, a touch that you were acutely aware of but one he didn’t seem to think twice about.

Whenever your knees brushed while adjusting the cabinet or while holding it in place, you could feel the warmth of his proximity, which only heightened your perception of him.

After some time, the cabinet stood completed. You couldn’t help but smile proudly at the result.

Trent glanced at your beaming face and quickly looked away, as if unsure how to react. The fleeting moments of physical contact had created a soft tension in the air.

You tilted your head, deciding to tease him while you still had the chance. “Does it look a bit bent or is it just me?”

He barely looked at the cabinet, already ready to fire a response back. “It’s just you.”

You scoffed, your eyes meeting as he extended the screwdriver back toward you. You swallowed as you took it, another brush of hands.

It was brief and unexpected but he too registered it this time. He briefly tensed but stood up quickly after.

You just about scrambled to your feet after him, placing your screwdriver on your desk.

Before he could leave, you called out, “thank you.”

He turned to give you a simple nod, brushing off your gratitude.

“I mean it. Not just for building this,” you gestured toward the cabinet, “but for being here. I’m always happy to see you.”

A silence befell you both, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable as it had before.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how come you came here?”

He thought about his answer for a second, wanting to correctly word it.

“Saw you struggling through the door. Thought you were finally having a heart attack or something.”

You paused for a second, slowly nodding your head. “Couldn’t miss it, huh?”

At that, Trent’s lips curved into a genuine smile as he looked away from your eyes, the first smile you’d seen from him that was actually for you.

It was a subtle, upward curl, softening his usually serious expression.

You mirrored his smile, it was hard not to. Perhaps you’d leaned forward, or your shoulders had finally relaxed, but you weren’t focused on the specifics.

“See you round, psychologist.”

You hummed, afraid that even if you opened your mouth, nothing would come out.

You watched him walk away, your eyes falling to the cabinet against the wall.

Seeing him smile, just smile at you, was a moment you wouldn’t forget so soon. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of relief and hope you’d nearly given up on.

But before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed. It was Kaia, asking when you’d be home.

You hadn’t even realised what time it was.

“Shit.”

…

Part 5

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

"Saw your email. Everything okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Bit of a madhouse out there." He said, nodding toward the entrance where the sound of chanting fans was growing louder.

“Just a bit,” you replied with a smile, honestly grateful for the distraction.

He chuckled, giving you a once-over. “You look a little tense. First time heading into enemy territory got you rattled?”

You gave him a mock glare, though the truth behind his teasing made you sigh. “Maybe a little. It’s just.. a lot. Big game, and I’m still getting used to being around everyone, let alone on a match day.”

Curtis leaned against the wall beside you, his expression softening. “I get it. But you’ve been solid with us. We’re glad you’re here, even if some of us” - he raised an eyebrow - “aren’t great at showing it.”

You smirked, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

“Trent?”

He grinned. “Nah, Wataru." You nudged his shoulder with your hand, and Curtis pushed himself off of the wall. His attention was directed back to the team as Arne brought everyone together.

"You're gonna smash it, see you in Manny." He flashed you a smile before jogging back over.

You adjusted your backpack currently slung over your shoulder, glancing up but accidentally catching Trent's eye across the large entryway.

He was standing a little apart from the others, his posture relaxed but with an air of deliberate composure. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, and his usual stoic expression was softened by a hint of curiosity.

His gaze lingered on you longer than usual, more intent and thoughtful.

You offered him a shy smile, unsure of what to expect in return. Almost immediately, his eyes darted away, his expression tightening as he turned his attention back to the team.

A tinge of disappointment settled in your chest, but you didn’t have time to linger on it as the coach pulled into the parking space out front.

“You’ve got this. You’ve got this,” you whispered to yourself, as if it were a mantra, following the backroom staff out of the training ground.

…

The first half had been tightly contested, with neither team managing to score, leaving the game deadlocked at 0-0.

The only real highlight was Trent’s free kick from just outside the box - a powerful shot that flew high, curling away from the goal before soaring over the bar. The away fans held their breath in anticipation, only to exhale in disappointment as the ball missed its mark.

From the sidelines, you watched as Trent’s frustration grew more evident, his usual composure giving way to visible agitation.

Each missed opportunity seemed to fuel his irritation, and it was clear his emotions were beginning to take over.

You sighed as the referee jogged over after a hard tackle. The yellow card was raised high, and Trent’s reaction was a sharp scoff as he walked away, shooting a disdainful side-eye at the player he had just fouled.

The rival fans seized the moment, erupting in cheers and taunts that grew louder and more fervent.

Old Trafford lit up as the referees became hyper-aware of Trent, ready to penalise any further outbursts. Arne’s nervousness was palpable, and the backroom staff were on their feet, counting down to the halfway mark.

Trent was no longer just reacting to the game; he was actively seeking confrontations with the Man United players. His tackles were sharper, his verbal exchanges more heated.

The tension was building to a breaking point, but the halftime whistle blew just in time, bringing a collective sigh of relief from every member of Liverpool’s staff, whether at the training ground or in the stadium.

As you left your seat to head down the tunnel, Trent’s shoulder brushed against yours, his head lowered and skin glistening with sweat.

You noticed Arne watching him closely, his face a mask of concentration and concern, fully aware of how vital Trent was to the team’s strategy - and how disastrous a second yellow card could be.

...

As the halftime break drew to a near close, the tension in the dressing room was palpable. The players sat on the benches, catching their breath and nursing the aches of the first half.

Arne stood at the front, his arms crossed as he delivered his instructions, his tone firm but calm. You could see the focus in their eyes, the determination to turn the game around in the second half.

Just as he'd finished his tactical breakdown, he turned to you, walking over.

"I want you to say a few words," he said, his voice low.

"About?" You asked quietly, unaware of the boys' wandering eyes glancing between the two of you.

"Keeping their heads in the game. Any insights that might help them stay focused and.. you know, ease off the aggression."

You swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

The players' attention turned to you as you moved to the centre of the room, a mix of curiosity and expectation in their gazes. It was almost comical - this was the first time many of them were hearing you speak in a professional setting.

You cleared your throat, giving a quick glance to the clock hung on the wall.

You took a deep breath and began. “I know we don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. We need to ease off on the aggressiveness." Trent, who had been staring at the floor, lifted his head slightly, his eyes now locked on you.

"We’re here to play our best football, to get the result we want and then move on. Allowing anger is only gonna distract you and hurt our performance. When you feel it bubbling up, just walk away and refocus yourself." You made an effort to connect with each player as you spoke, though deep down, you hoped your words would resonate with one in particular.

"Focus on what you can control - your passing, your tackles, your game.” A smirk tugged at Trent's lips before his head dipped again.

You scanned the room, noticing nods of understanding. “If you see a teammate getting heated, help them out."

Another breath, "push them away from the fight, back off, and concentrate on our tactics, not on the referee’s decisions or the United players. Don’t sulk on what went wrong. Learn from it and move on, yeah?"

Arne gave you a nod of appreciation as you wrapped up your little speech. "Alright, let’s make this second half count," you finished, your voice carrying a tinge of determination.

Virgil clapped twice, rallying the team as they stood and prepared to exit the dressing room. “Let’s go!” As they began filing out, you moved to the side to let them pass.

Trent was among the last to leave.

"Write me up next time," he muttered as he walked by, leaning in just enough for you to hear.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his lips before darting back up to meet his gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly composed yourself and responded.

"It was meant for everyone." You lied through your teeth.

He hummed in response, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure," he said, not even glancing back as he walked out, leaving you with the undeniable sense that he knew exactly who your speech had been aimed at.

...

In the second half, Trent seemed lighter on his feet, more focused on the tactical aspects of the game and less caught up in the aggression that had marked his earlier play.

Liverpool had eventually secured a hard-fought 0-1 victory, with Salah scoring the winner from a beautifully timed assist by Trent. The away crowds erupted as the ball hit the back of the net, and the energy from that moment carried through until the final whistle.

As you watched him on the pitch, his frustration giving way to calm determination, you couldn’t help but wonder if your halftime words had played a part in that change.

Even a small part, that was more than enough to make you feel like you were on the right track.

The journey back to the training ground was a short one, the adrenaline from the win still buzzing among the team.

But by the time you arrived, the place had already started to empty out, with most of the team and staff having headed home to celebrate or rest.

The win had been sweet, but the quietness that greeted you at the training ground felt like a peaceful end to a very intense day.

You hadn’t intended to stay at the training ground as late as you did after returning, but with Kaia staying over at a friend’s house and the stack of unwritten reports waiting for your attention, you found yourself at your desk again.

The evening had unfolded into an unexpected work spell as you prepared for the upcoming sessions and tackled the never-ending paperwork.

The soft glow from your new office lamp created a cozy pool of light, the only sounds in the quiet room being the occasional rustle of papers and the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

Starting to nurse a headache, you rubbed your eyes carefully as to not smudge your makeup.

The words of practising what you preached echoed in your mind, working for hours on end without a break was hardly the advice you’d give to anybody.

So, you eventually pushed away from your desk and decided to step outside your office for a walk.

The halls were quiet and mostly vacant as you strolled, letting your mind drift and find a moment of peace.

You made your way to the large glass windows that stretched across both the first and second floors, providing a panoramic view of the training grounds below.

The evening sky was transitioning into deep blues, with the last hints of daylight fading.

Yet your gaze was drawn to a solitary figure on the pitch, illuminated by the few remaining lights.

It was him.

Even from this distance, his form was unmistakable as he set up a line of balls and readied himself for another round of free kicks. Instantly, you were reminded of earlier - his powerful shot that had soared over the bar.

Seeing him out there, still working hard, your shoulders slumped in realisation.

The scene was almost surreal, marked by the quiet dedication of a player refusing to call it a day.

You stood there in complete silence, taking in the sight as if it were a scene from a film - each deliberate movement and focused effort holding your rapt attention.

It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. Alone and immersed in his own world, completely absorbed in his craft without a care for the outside distractions.

Deciding to join him, you headed out of the building and towards the pitch. The evening air was crisp, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees.

You crossed your arms over your chest, maintaining a respectful distance as you approached. You hoped your presence would neither startle him nor prompt him to leave.

"Mind if I watch?" You asked, keeping your tone light and casual.

Trent glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to the pitch. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but no trace of annoyance.

"Suit yourself, psychologist," he replied, his voice steady. You nodded - guess that was good enough for you.

You watched as he rolled the first ball to his feet, his focus razor-sharp as he stopped it and took a few steps back.

The ball sailed through the air, curving beautifully into the top corner of the net. You couldn’t help but be impressed.

"That was perfect," you said, genuinely admiring his skill.

Trent shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just another shot."

"Give yourself more credit than that. It’s not easy," you countered. "I admire the dedication."

He glanced back at you. “Guess you’d know.”

“Sorry?” You asked, slightly confused.

Another shot.

“The picture in your office. You played once,” he remarked, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

You found yourself wondering when he had been in your office to notice the picture, then it clicked. He'd helped you assemble the cabinet where you later placed it.

He must've spotted it in one of the boxes.

You watched as he set up another ball, and somehow, in a way that only Trent could manage, that shot was even better than the last.

You scoffed lightly, dismissing the comparison. “Nowhere near your level, obviously. But you’re right, I guess I can imagine the passion. The pressure.”

You hoped your words were reaching him, echoing the sentiments he'd talked about in so many of his interviews.

He breathed out slowly. "So why psychology?" He asked, bending over to position the next ball.

"Because mental strength is just as important as physical ability," you explained. "I've seen talented players crumble under pressure, and others rise above it. The difference often comes down to how well they manage their minds."

Trent didn’t respond immediately. He set up another shot, this time, it hit the post with a loud thud.

Frustrated, he sighed.

You picked up the ball as it bounced near you, letting it roll between your hands before walking over to him. Once there, you dropped it to the ground, letting it settle by the side of your foot.

When he looked at you, his gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it.

You felt a flutter in your chest, the kind that made your stomach dip slightly. Your fingers curled into your palms, a subconscious effort to ground yourself as the moment stretched on.

“I know I’m just a stranger,” you began gently, your tone careful and steady.

“But I’m not here to push you and you don’t have to share anything with me. I just want you to know that if you ever feel like talking, we can - no titles, just two people who might understand each other.”

You added with a slight smile. “You’ll never know unless you give it a shot.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider something. You would’ve traded anything in to know what was going through his mind at that moment.

But he shook his head, glancing out over the pitch. “I’m good for now.”

“Okay,” you replied, giving the ball a gentle nudge, just enough to pass it to him. With a nod, you stepped back and turned towards the building, heading inside.

Before entering, you turned around, surprised to find him already watching you. “Thanks for hearing me out, yeah?”

You offered him a final smile before disappearing inside.

Trent’s gaze lingered on your retreating figure for a moment longer before he returned to his practice, a slight shift in his expression as he continued his routine.

...

Part 6

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

A/N: 700 followers is insaneeee and sm more than i acc thought id ever get so thank you so much! f1 and/or football fans, i love u all so much ugh ALSO if ur wondering why this chapter is longer than my lifespan it’s bcos u guys deserve it for being so patient and accept it as my dearest apology xxx

Warnings: a lot of fluff actually, casual banter, a lot of coffee mentions for some fkn reason lmfao, swearing probably

Word Count: 4.9k words (18 mins reading avg)

...

You push open the door to the training pitch, the cool breeze brushing against your face as you step outside, searching for Wataru.

The headache that’s been plaguing you all morning tightens its grip, and the fresh scent of the grass seems almost too intense. You rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension while scanning the field.

Across the pitch, Trent catches your eye, his movements fluid and graceful as he makes a pass. The ball connects with his boot in a way that’s almost poetic, the sound sharp and precise.

What usually feels like music to your ears now drives another spike of pain through your already throbbing head. You wince, pressing your fingers more firmly against your temples.

Finally, you spot Wataru near the edge of the pitch, zipping up his jacket while observing the players. As you approach, he looks up, concern immediately crossing his face as he takes in your weary appearance.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greets, his voice laced with worry. “Rough start?”

You manage a tired smile that feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, not the best morning. Overslept, skipped breakfast, and now this headache won’t quit.”

Wataru nods, his concern deepening. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. We can cancel if you need.”

Leaning against the wall beside him, you try to relieve some of the pressure on your aching body. “Thanks, but I’ll be alright. Just.. not exactly firing on all cylinders this morning.”

A quiet settles over you as you both watch the players go through their drills.

Trent sends a perfect cross into the box, and you can’t help but remark, “at least someone’s got their energy today.”

The usual lively atmosphere - the rhythmic thud of the ball, the shouts of encouragement, the bursts of laughter - feels like an assault on your senses. Each kick sends another ripple of pain through your skull, deepening the throbbing.

Wataru notices the way your shoulders tense with each sharp noise and is about to speak when you take a deep breath, pushing off the wall and forcing steadiness into your voice.

“I’ll be upstairs,” you say softly. “When you’re ready to start, just let me know.”

He nods, understanding clear in his eyes. “Take your time, Y/N. No rush.”

You offer a grateful smile before turning to head back inside. Each step is a conscious effort to stay composed. The quiet of the training centre seems more inviting than ever, a much-needed refuge from the relentless pounding in your head.

...

"Long night?" Trent remarked as he spotted Wataru holding two cups of coffee. His brows furrowed in mild surprise, though his tone remained light as he gestured toward the cups.

Wataru chuckled and shook his head. “Not for me. One of these is for Y/N.”

Trent’s expression shifted slightly, his brows relaxing as he nodded. “Oh.”

“She mentioned she skipped breakfast,” Wataru explained, “so I thought coffee might help.”

Trent glanced at the black coffee in Wataru’s hand, steam rising from the cup. His face remained neutral, but there was a subtle twitch at the corner of his lips before he spoke again.

“She doesn’t drink it black,” Trent said matter-of-factly.

Wataru blinked in surprise, glancing down at one of the cups. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Trent replied, trying to sound casual. He looked away, his voice quiet but with a slight edge.

“You might want to add some milk and a bit of sweetener. I’ve never seen her drink it.. like that.”

“Ah, thanks,” Wataru said, giving him a nod as the coffee machine hummed in the background.

Trent responded with a curt nod of his own, the awkwardness of the moment settling over him.

As he waited for the machine to finish, he rubbed the back of his neck, obviously trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’d crept up on him.

Finally, he poured himself a cup, his movements deliberate but distracted.

He never assumed he knew your coffee preferences, but the fact that he actually did only disturbed him.

Wataru exited the canteen, but Trent remained standing in his place, staring down at his cup. The liquid swirling as he gave it a half-hearted stir, his mind lost in thought.

He’d been trying to keep his distance from you, aiming to stay focused on his own routines. You were just another face at the training centre, someone there to do a job like everyone else.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

So why had he noticed how you took your coffee? Why did it matter to him?

The thought nagged at him, making him feel off balance. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like that he was starting to notice these little things about you, almost as if he was beginning to care. It made him feel uneasy, like he was losing his grip on the boundaries he’d set for himself.

He shook his head, wiping the bottom of the spoon on the rim of his cup before setting it down on the tray.

The nagging sensation in his chest made him feel vulnerable, and Trent Alexander-Arnold wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable. He was supposed to be focused, dedicated, with his head in the game and his heart firmly off the field.

He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste barely registering as he tried to shake off the uncomfortable thought.

The truth was, he’d been noticing you for a while now.

The way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the determination with which you threw yourself into your work - it was hard to ignore.

And he’d been trying to push those thoughts away, shoving them into the back of his mind where they couldn’t distract him.

But every now and then, they crept back in, uninvited and unwelcome.

He let out a deep breath and finally decided to move. He followed the same route Wataru had taken just a few minutes earlier.

As he stepped out of the canteen, he saw his teammate engaged in conversation with one of the backroom staff, overhearing snatches of words like "reschedule" and "now."

His attention drifted as he passed by, noticing Ibou absorbed in what looked like cricket highlights playing on the TV. Yet his mind was still clouded, so much so that he barely noticed when his name was called.

“Trent!” The voice cut through the haze, pulling him back to the present. He turned to see Wataru waving him over, his expression a mix of urgency and apology.

He hesitated for a moment before walking over, his footsteps heavy. “What’s up?” He asked, aiming to sound casual.

Wataru glanced at the staff member, then back at him. “I’ve got to go see Arne,” he said, his voice low. “Can you do me a favour?”

Trent raised an eyebrow, half-expecting to be asked to cover a training session or run an errand. “Depends,” he said slowly.

He saw Wataru’s gaze shift to the coffee cups in his hands, and he felt his stomach sink. A chorus of silent ‘no no no’s’ echoed in his mind, ignored by whatever higher powers may've been listening.

Wataru hesitated for a moment, a conflicted look on his face, before finally holding one of the cups out to him. “Do you mind taking this up to Y/N for me?”

Trent hesitated, frowning. “Can’t someone else do it?”

The faces of the two men standing opposite him twisted into mild confusion, as if that was the last response they expected.

"It won’t take you long."

His eyes flickered over. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to get involved. The last thing he needed was to play delivery boy, especially for you.

He was about to refuse again when he saw the concern in Wataru’s eyes. With a resigned sigh, he took the cup.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Wataru’s face broke into a grateful but meek smile. He hurried off, leaving Trent to stare down at the cup in his hand, feeling a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite name.

He headed toward the stairs, his steps slow, each one weighed down by the internal debate raging in his head.

He could just throw it out.

The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.

Dump the coffee and be done with it. You’d never know. And then he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of seeing you.

But then again, Wataru would find out. He’d ask you about the coffee later, and if it never made it to you, Trent would have to come up with some kind of excuse.

Wataru might be easygoing, but he wasn’t dumb. Trent didn’t need anyone questioning him, especially over something as trivial as a cup of coffee.

He gripped the cup tighter, feeling the warmth seep through the paper. It’d be so easy to turn around, head back to the kitchen, and pour it down the sink.

Out of sight, out of mind.

He could almost picture it - the splash of tan liquid spinning down the drain, washing his hands of this whole situation.

But then there was the part of him that knew better, the part that had been growing louder lately. The part that remembered the way you looked this morning, rubbing your temples, the pain etched across your face.

He made his way down the hallway, taking the stairs one at a time until he stood outside your door.

He hesitated, he hated this strange, unfamiliar urge to do something nice for someone here. And for you, of all people.

It was annoying, unsettling.

Realising both hands were full, he resorted to tapping the toe of his trainer against the wooden door, three quick thuds echoing through the corridor.

Silence.

He clicked his tongue in frustration and tried again, tapping harder.

Still nothing.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he muttered, irritation lacing his words.

As he stood there, a familiar figure sauntered down the corridor. Harvey noticed Trent’s growing agitation and, with a smirk, made his way over to investigate.

“What are you doing?” Harvey asked, his accented voice dripping with amusement. His eyes shifted from Trent’s face to the coffee cups, then to the trainer tapping rhythmically against the door.

“I’m knocking, genius,” Trent replied, his voice edged with sarcasm. He let out a sigh through his nose, tipping his head back slightly as Harvey's eyes flickered between him and the door.

“Since when do you ever knock?” Harvey questioned, eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

Trent’s mouth opened to retort, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but he was right. He never knocked.

A beat of silence passed before Trent jerked his chin toward the door. “Get the door for me, yeah?”

Harvey grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “I kinda wanna see how long you’ll keep this up,” he teased, his tone light.

Trent shot him a glare, though the corners of his mouth twitched with reluctant amusement.

“Alright, alright. Keep your hair on.” Harvey chuckled, relenting. He stepped forward, pressing down on the handle and pushing the door open.

Trent manoeuvred through the doorway, using the back of his shoulder to nudge it open the rest of the way, careful not to spill the coffee. He cast a sidelong glance at his friend, who leaned against the door frame with a smirk.

“See? Was that so hard?” Harvey quipped, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trent muttered, rolling his eyes.

He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. Everything in your office looked untouched, as if you'd entered and gone straight to your desk. You were slumped over, head resting in one hand, elbow propped up on the wooden surface.

Either you’d fallen asleep, or...

“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.

"Here's hoping.” Trent mumbled in response.

He took a step closer, clearing his throat softly, but you remained oblivious.

Trent’s gaze flickered around the room, his usual composure faltering as he took in your dishevelled state. Despite his attempts to remain detached, seeing you like this stirred something deep within him that he couldn’t quite ignore.

With a sigh, he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the unease that had settled over him. He carefully placed the coffee on the desk beside you, his movements deliberate.

Tentatively, he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your shirt as if testing the waters.

When you remained unresponsive, he mustered the courage to place his full hand on your shoulder and gave you a gentle shake.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. “I’ve got your coffee.”

You stirred, lifting your head and blinking groggily. He removed his hand, straightening his back.

“Trent?” You mumbled, still half-asleep. The smell of the coffee faintly registered in your mind. “You didn’t have to..”

He shrugged, attempting to sound casual. “Wataru asked me to bring it up. And, well..” He glanced at you, feeling an unfamiliar tug of something he couldn’t quite name. “I figured you might need it.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. I really do.”

As he was about to leave, he noticed the pile of paperwork cluttered next to your computer, the chaos suggesting you’d been battling through it despite your headache.

“I, uh..” His voice faltered slightly. “Need any help with that?“

You were about to reply when Harvey’s voice cut in, disbelief evident in his tone. “You’re offering to help?”

Trent shifted uncomfortably, his back still turned to Harvey as he rolled his eyes. You caught the movement and chuckled softly.

“Not offering. Just—” He turned to see Harvey’s amused expression and added hastily, “—just making sure she's not swamped. Is that a crime?”

Harvey shrugged, crossing his arms. “Not at all. Just didn’t think you had it in you.”

Trent picked up half of the stack, maybe more, his actions earnest but guarded.

You watched him with a mix of gratitude and surprise, taking a sip of the coffee and feeling the soothing warmth begin to ease your headache.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, still leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see the day Trent Alexander-Arnold played the hero.”

Trent’s lips curled into a slight smile, his cheeks reddening as he held up a stack of papers toward Harvey. “Want to help?”

Harvey raised his hands in mock surrender, pushing himself off the doorframe. “I’ll leave you two to it. Have fun, lovebirds.”

As he departed, your cheeks warmed slightly, but you quickly shifted your focus to your inbox. An email from Arne caught your eye at the top, informing you that your session with Wataru had been rescheduled.

You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.

Trent, meanwhile, had sunk onto the couch, peeling off the top sheet of the document. He placed the remaining papers neatly on the cabinet beside him and studied the single sheet in his hand with a skeptical frown.

The bold black text at the top seemed to glare back at him: "For Liverpool FC Staff Only."

He paused, his fingers grazing the corner of the page. "I can read these, right?"

You glanced over, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze. “Yeah, they're just things I need to acknowledge I've read,” you said with a casual shrug, your voice carrying a hint of nonchalance.

Trent tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he flipped the document over. “Seems a bit counter-productive, though,” he remarked.

“Not really. I never actually read them,” you explained nonchalantly.

A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “And here I thought you were all about dedication to your job,” he said, his voice trailing off with a mocking edge.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up your coffee cup again after dragging the stack of remaining papers closer.

“I am dedicated,” you replied with a hint of a smile, “but finance just doesn’t interest me. I skim.”

He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.

You paused before starting on your work, glancing over at Trent. “Anything important, just make sure you tell me.”

Trent looked up, his expression blank but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What if I want to skim read?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you turned your attention back to the papers. “Shut up, Trent.”

His gaze lingered on you, a smirk playing at his lips as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally looked away, his smile widening just slightly.

...

The soft shuffle of papers and the occasional scratch of your pen had become a rhythmic background noise in the room.

Your headache had lessened thanks to the coffee and the company, but the stack of paperwork in front of you still felt like an endless mountain.

As you reached the final couple of documents, you heard Trent stand up from the couch.

You looked over just in time to see him stretching his arms above his head, the motion causing his shirt to lift slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin beneath.

You swallowed, instinctively folding your lips inwards as your eyes lingered for a moment too long.

He was an athlete, after all, so naturally, he was fit, as any athlete would be. But seeing it up close stirred something in you that you quickly tried to dismiss.

He caught your glance, and instead of saying anything, Trent poked his tongue into his cheek, clearly holding back a remark.

His lips pressed together in a restrained smirk, like he was biting back a teasing comment. He didn’t want to overstep, especially in the middle of a setting like this one, and God forbid he came across like he’d noticed too much.

Your face grew warm, and you immediately redirected your attention back to the papers in front of you, pretending to scan over the same paragraph you had just read.

But the words on the page were a blur, the previous focus you had was gone, and all you could feel was your heart beating a little too fast, a bit too aware of his presence nearby.

He placed the now neatly organised stack of papers he had been working on back onto your desk. “These just need your signature now,” he said, his voice casual, but you could sense a hint of satisfaction.

You raised an eyebrow. “You finished all of them?”

He nodded, unfazed. He pulled out a folded A4 paper from his pocket.

“I made a note.. of everything that was important.” His fingers unfolded the paper to reveal messy, scribbled handwriting - a far cry from the neat, printed reports you were used to seeing.

But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.

You stared at the paper in his hand for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Trent, ever the enigma, had actually taken the time to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. His expression was calm, neutral even, but you knew deep down this was one of those moments he’d never let you thank him for.

“Thanks, Trent. That’s.. really thoughtful of you.” The words felt too light, not enough to fully express your gratitude, but you also knew him well enough to recognise that overpraising him would probably make him uncomfortable.

As expected, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make a habit of needing me for this stuff.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and refreshing. “I’ll try not to.”

There was a beat of silence before he shoved the note toward you, his eyes finally meeting yours for a brief second. "Make sure you check my notes, though. My handwriting’s a bit shit.”

You took the note from his hand, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

“I’ll make sure to decipher it,” you teased lightly, glancing down at the paper covered in hurried scrawls.

As Trent turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at you. “Take it easy, Y/N. Can’t have you passing out on us.”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, as you fiddled with the paper between your fingers. The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a deep breath.

The room suddenly felt quieter, emptier, but your mind wasn’t letting go. You pressed your lips together, trying to focus on the documents in front of you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him - his quiet gestures, the sarcastic remarks, the infuriating smirks.

It was maddening how easily he got under your skin, how a simple glance could set your pulse racing.

Then, the memory played again in your mind, torturously vivid - the door shutting, the way he'd looked at you before leaving.

But then it hit you. Y/N.

Your mouth parted, breath hitching as the realisation dawned. He’d said your name.

For the first time, it wasn’t “psychologist.” It was your actual name.

Since you’d started here, you hadn't noticed how much that label created a barrier, a distance. Now, the memory of him saying your name replayed on a loop, breaking through that invisible wall.

You hadn’t realised how much you wanted to hear it from him.

Until now.

...

You were making your way down the hallway towards the cafeteria when you saw Wataru walking towards you. You exchanged polite smiles, a small gesture of recognition, as you passed by each other.

But something made you pause, and you turned back, calling after him.

“Wataru!” You said, a grateful grin crossing your face. He turned around, his eyes curious.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you added, your voice light with appreciation.

Wataru's smile widened as he slowed his pace. “Did Trent bring it up?” He asked, shifting his weight where he stood.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.

“How’s the headache?” He asked, a soft concern in his tone.

“Gone,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to run over the skin on your forehead. “Thanks to you.”

Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.

You studied him for a moment, your curiousity getting the best of you. You tilted your head ever so slightly and asked, “how did you know how I liked it? My coffee, I mean?”

He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard for a moment, then shook his head with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t,” he said plainly, his expression easy.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your lips parting as you waited for him to explain further.

Wataru chuckled again and leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “Trent told me. Said you didn’t like it plain.”

Your heart skipped a beat, surprise flickering across your face. “Really?” You asked, your voice mellow with disbelief. “I didn’t know he knew that.”

Wataru smiled, watching the realisation dawn on you. “He’s an attentive boy,” he added with a nod, his tone thoughtful.

You blinked, processing his words. “Yeah,” you breathily replied, your brows lifting in agreement.

“Guess he is.”

...

Trent finished zipping up his thin jacket with a final click, the sound resonating softly as he shut the door to the vacant computer room behind him. He patted his pockets, making sure he had everything.

Across the hallway, you were locking your office door, your focus intent as you fumbled with the key.

Your eyes met at the exact same moment - yours lifting from the office door just as Trent’s eyes drifted from the closed computer room.

“Hey,” you greeted, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

Trent’s gaze flickered to your lips before settling back on your eyes, a subtle shift in his expression. “Hey,” he replied, his tone soft and casual, with an undertone of something more.

The corridor felt oddly intimate, the quiet hum of the lights and distant echoes were all you could hear. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, gently clearing your throat.

Trent massaged the back of his shoulder, having had to stare at a computer for a number of hours, a gesture that revealed his own weariness.

“Long day?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Yeah.” You nodded, briefly looking down before meeting his eyes again. “Caught up on some stuff with Wataru. And you?”

“Same,” Trent said with a small shrug, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. “Online seminar ran late.”

You stood there for a moment as the hallway seemed to close in around you, your small smiles communicating a quiet understanding.

“You heading out now?” Trent asked gently, his voice almost hesitant as if not wanting to break the moment.

“Yeah, just heading home. I'm assuming you're the same.” You replied, shifting your bag once more.

“Yep,” Trent said, his eyes meeting yours.

"Walk with me?" You tilted your head to the end of the hallway where the stairs led downstairs.

He looked over, swallowing as he nodded his head. "Sure."

You both turned, your shoulders grazing ever so slightly as you walked in what felt like a comfortable silence together, descending the stairs.

You walked side by side toward the building’s exit. Brian, stationed by the manually operated door on the same wall as the now-locked automatic ones, gave it a gentle push open.

"See you tomorrow, Brian." You expressed with a genuine smile, giving him a small wave.

"See you, love. Have a good night, son." He replied warmly.

"You too." Trent added.

He stepped aside though as he turned slightly, his body angled to give you clear passage. With a subtle sweep of his hand, he motioned for you to go ahead before him.

You slipped past, your back brushed lightly against his chest, the brief contact making your stomach flip in an instant.

The sensation caught you off guard, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You felt like a schoolgirl again, every accidental touch with a crush igniting a fire in your limbs.

Crush? You blinked, shaking the thought out of your head quickly. Nope, nope. That’s not it.

You exhaled quietly, trying to steady yourself, looking back as Trent caught up beside you.

A brisk gust of wind whipped around you both. Instinctively, you tucked the loose strands of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear, crossing your arms over your chest to keep warm.

Trent shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Getting colder,” you commented.

“No shit,” Trent agreed, his voice a bit strained against the chill. “Summer ended quick.”

"You can talk, you weren’t even in the country," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance.

Trent didn’t miss a beat, replying almost instantly, "you didn’t even work here then, how would you know?"

You opened your mouth to respond but hesitated, the words not quite forming in time. Trent noticed and grinned, his smugness unmistakable.

“Someone stalking my Insta?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break out. “Please. You think you’re that interesting?”

Trent shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can’t blame ya. I mean, half the world’s got eyes on me.”

“Half the world, huh?” You shot back, arching a brow. “I didn’t realise your four friends counted as ‘half the world' now.”

He chuckled, tucking his chin deeper into his jacket. “Still more friends than you’ve got.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied smoothly, flashing a grin. “I’ve got friends, too. Just.. a bit more exclusive.”

“Exclusive, eh?” Trent said, his tone mock-serious.

"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.

As you walked, your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, remembering how he’d said your name. It was brief, almost casual, but it had stuck with you. It had felt different, personal.

And now, it replayed in your head, over and over.

Without fully realising it, you broke the silence. “You said my name.”

Trent’s steps slowed as he processed your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “What?”

You looked down, cheeks flushed from the cold - or maybe something else. “When you left my office earlier, you called me by my name.”

Trent pressed his bottom lip up to his top as he thought back. “Pretty sure I’ve said your name before.”

“Not to me,” you said, glancing up at him with a hopeful look.

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so important?”

“Because.. it is,” you admitted, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “To me, it is.”

Trent's muscles relaxed as his eyes roved over your features. “The bar's in hell, huh?”

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, cutting through the chill. You nudged his arm with your hand.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest to trap the heat.

You finally approached Trent’s car, and he turned to you with a nod before pressing the unlock button on his keys.

You watched as he walked closer to his car door and opened it. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by your voice, again.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said, raising your voice slightly to cut through the wind.

Trent's lips twitched, biting his bottom one to hold back from taking any credit. “I didn’t make your coffee.”

“Don’t lie, Trent. It doesn’t suit you." You remarked, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.

For a moment, his eyes stayed on you, lingering with a soft intensity. You held his gaze, feeling an unspoken connection. The seconds stretched on as you both seemed to take in the moment, your heart racing slightly in the charged silence.

Trent eventually looked away, fiddling with the keys in his hand.

“Get out of the way before I run you over." He quipped, his voice lighthearted.

“Charming,” you retorted.

Trent shook his head, getting into his car.

You began walking towards the pedestrian gate, hearing the engine of his car start up as you turned to give him one last glance before starting your short walk home.

...

Part 7

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme @mss-nthng @miniemonie2001 @severebelearthquake @fireofsoul5 @greasywall @livelovepasta @bigdikzaddy @witchhkitty222 @mountsgirlsblog

Cookies!

Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader

Them : Angst, I think.

Word count : 2k

Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.

I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔

Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.

But you did.

There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.

Some even called you lucky.

A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.

But there were still ups and downs.

The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.

“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.

Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.

And so did Aaralyn.

Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.

“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”

You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”

“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.

“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.

She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”

“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”

“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.

“What kind of powder?”

“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.

••

Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.

“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.

“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.

The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.

“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.

“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.

You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.

“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.

“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.

You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.

“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.

“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.

“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.

Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”

“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”

You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.

“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.

“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.

Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.

“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.

“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.

Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.

“Daddy…?”

“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.

“It’s me, Alyn!”

“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.

Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.

Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.

“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.

“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”

“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.

Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”

Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.

“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.

“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.

“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”

“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.

“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.

“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.

“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”

Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.

You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.

“Come, baby,”

Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”

Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.

“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”

“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.

“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”

**

Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.

3:02

Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.

It was empty. Untouched even.

“Honey?”

His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.

“Aaralyn. Honey?”

Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.

“Daddy’s

— Aarlyn ❤️”

••

You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.

As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.

Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.

“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.

“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.

“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.

“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.

“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”

“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.

“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.

“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.

“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”

can you pleaseee do a story about haaland being insecure about something while looking at himself in the mirror and y/n enters the room and comforts him then they end up making out

i hv an exam tomorrow but this inspired me hope u like it <3

erling haaland x fem reader

it wasn’t like him to feel down at all. usually he felt full of power and confidence, he believed in himself and couldn’t care less about what others said about him. he was the strong, norwegian viking after all.

but today was different and you noticed it. he did poorly in the match and although city still won, he’s rating was low and his failed shots were posted all over the internet. you felt his sadness and disappointment, the way he walked out of the changing room, the way his usual bright smile faded away. he could take all the criticism about the way he played, he could take it when it was about his talent or the lack of it, but he couldn’t deal with criticism about his looks. you told him not to go on instagram, to not open comments but he couldn’t stop himself. he sat in the changing room for a good 30 minutes scrolling nonstop, every rude comment, every mean word about his face seeping into his mind. he suddenly felt small and uncomfortable in his own skin, and all he craved was your touch and kind words. you noticed immediately as he walked besides you on your way to the car, his fingers holding tightly onto yours, his golden hair laying on his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the floor. he needed soft touches and sweet words whispered into his ears, a hug and kisses all over his cheeks.

and you knew exactly how to make him feel better, how to make the sad pout disappear from his face.

- hey baby what about a bath when we get home? i got a new bathbomb yesterday, its strawberry and vanilla scented. - you look over at him in the car, his eyes are sad and his fingers viciously gripping the wheel but he seems to like your idea a lot, his face lighting up, his cheeks blushing.

you took baths together whenever either of you was feeling down, the bubbles, the relaxation of the warm water and the closeness of your bodies cheering you up instantly. so as soon as you get home you tell him to go and get out of his clothes and wait for a little in the bedroom while you start the bath and collect all the stuff you want to put into it. you eventually gather all of your things, and with the bathbombs and gels in your hand return to the bedroom. you find your boyfriend staring at himself in the mirror, theres a frustrated look spreading across his beautiful features, his eyebrows are furrowed. he looks like he might start crying and you feel your heart breaking by the sight. you walk up to him, hugging him from behind, your smaller frame disappearing into his. your fingers are running up and down on his torso, caressing his skin, drawing circles on his waist. your cheek is resting against his back, hes warm and he smells like him. like erling, like soap and grass and his lingering parfume. you want him to know how beautiful he is, how his touch lights your skin up, how his eyes mesmerize you, how it feels to call him yours.

- can we take the bath and then watch a dumb movie? im so tired, im sorry..- he asks, theres some shame in his voice as he stares at his reflection.

- of course baby, lets go, i think the water is already perfect.- you grab his hand as you guide him to the bathroom, holding him close and tight, wanting to show him how beautiful he truly is.

Can you write an angsty one with Kylian Mbappe.

A secret affair, a fling - Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Cheating

summary: In which the reader is left alone on vacation in Brazil with her fiancés best friend Kylian. Based on Billie Eilishs „Billie Bossa Nova"

Love when it comes without a warnin’

‚Cause waitin‘ for it gets so borin’

The music was blaring through the club as you felt your body giving in. Swaying your hips, feeling his hands run up and down your body, stopping at your throat before he pulled you back. Teasing you as he placed kisses down your neck before whispering into your ear.

„Thanks for showing me this.“

You moved your body against his to the familiar sounds of the Brazilian Bossa Nova. Everyone around you on the dancefloor being taken over by the rhythm. Including the french boy that was currently grinding against you.

This felt wrong. No, this was wrong. But you were both too drunk and taken over by passion to think clearly.

It was unexpected, yet it seemed like you had secretly already hoped for it too happen.

Showing Kylian around Rio had been incredibly fun. You had taken him to all the good spots, where locals would hang out. Knowing the city like the back of your hand as you had grown up there.

A lot can change in twenty seconds

A lot can happen in the dark

It was a big city though. And you were both lonely. With your fiancè being in Europe, having left early because of some job. Cutting your vacation short and leaving Kylian and you behind in the big city.

„It’s gonna be fine. You should stay and enjoy Rio.“

If he saw you right now, all sweaty and grinding against his best friend in a dark night club, he probably wouldn’t have told you to stay. But he trusted you. He trusted Kylian.

Love when it makes you lose your bearings

Some information’s not for sharing

Kylian pressed you against the stone wall, making you giggle as you put your hand against his chest. The outside of the club way too busy to be doing this but both of you too drunk to care.

Kylian bit your bottom lip before pulling away and breaking the kiss. You stared at him, trying to catch your breath.

„What?“ you asked, tracing his eyebrows with your index finger.

He held up a polaroid camera, that he had brought with him everywhere, as you leaned against the wall and smiled. It only took a few seconds before the flash appeared and a picture came out the camera.

Kylian grabbed the small photo, shaking it a few times before putting it into his blazers pocket. As he did so, you noticed his expression change.

„I think I lost my wallet.“ he slurred, his french accent stronger as he also had way too much to drink „But I don’t really care right now.“

You giggled as he pressed his lips against yours again. Eagerly trying to push his tongue in before you allowed him entrance.

„Carlos?“ Kylian asked, his hand on your leg as he traced circles against your skin „Can you please bring us to a hotel a little out of the city?“

Kylians driver looked at him with furrowed eyebrows before nodding, understanding exactly what was going on. He had been driving Kylian and you around for the past week, knowing very well who you both were.

Carlos didn’t say anything though as it wasn’t his place to ask any questions. He started the engine of his black Mercedes before driving off through Rios busy streets.

You dimmed the light on your phone, as Kylian looked at you from the side. Clearly reading the text your boyfriend had sent you.

Meu amor: how was your day? Did Kyky enjoy the beach at Copacabana?

You felt guilt washing over you but before you could even think Kylian grabbed your phone and turned it off.

„He doesn’t need to know everything.“ the french boy then exclaimed, making you nod in agreement. Maybe some things were better left unsaid.

You better lock your phone

And look at me when you’re alone

The drive was taking longer then expected as there was always a lot of traffic in Rio. You stared out the tinted window of the car, watching all the different people just live their life. Making you wonder what each of them was like.

Kylian spent the whole drive staring at you as he whispered how pretty you were from time to time. You knew he was just very drunk.

You tried the best you could to contain yourself and not give into his charm, knowing that Carlos could not talk about anything he didn’t clearly see. If nothing happens, he has nothing to tell.

Although you were pretty sure Kylians managers already made him sign an NDA. They always did.

You bit your lip and held your breath when you felt Kylian slowly slip his finger under the hem your red dress. The dress that had made him go crazy all night as it hugged your curves perfectly and was way too short. All he wanted to do was rip it off.

Won’t take a lot to get you goin’

I’m sorry if it’s torture though

You closed your eyes as Kylians fingers ran up and down your thigh. His hand moving dangerously high. Just as Kylian tried to push your underwear aside, you grabbed his hand as you sent him a shocked look. His face only lit up by the flickering lights from outside.

You pressed your legs together, making it impossible for him to move his hand any further. Carlos clearing his throat in the front seat as you hoped he hadn't just seen that.

Kylian sent you a mischievous grin, satisfied with the effect he had on you.

„I like it when you lose control.“ the french boy smirked, before freeing his hand from your grasp and readjusting his black blazer.

Use different names at hotel check-ins

It’s hard to stop it once it starts

„One room for two, please.“ you watched Kylian lean against the hotel counter, all suited up as the nightclerk typed something into the computer.

The hotel was nice and quite luxurious. It was about half an hour from the city, so there were almost no people around at this time. As you watched Kylian through the glass door that separated the lobby and reception, you couldn't help but think about what it is that you were about to do. What you had already done.

„Jean Laurent.“ you heard Kylian lie to the nightclerk, as he looked back at you standing in the lobby with your arms crossed.

You felt uncomfortable and the more time that was passing you realized what a stupid idea this was.

„Let’s go.“ Kylian walked over to you, holding a hotelroom keycard in his hand.

The two of you walked through the hallways of the hotel. The lights were dimmed as you strutted over the red carpets. Tracing the wallpaper with your index finger. Kylian following close behind you, both of you not saying a word.

The elevator music filled the awkward silence as it took you all the way to the top. Kylian looking at his phone, avoiding your gaze while you just held on to your clutch.

You arrived at room 201, Kylian opening the door for you. You entered the pitch black room as the door was closed behind you. And only a few seconds later the room was lit up by a big chandelier, revealing what seemed to be a full blown suite.

„Wow…“ you said, looking around the massive room that looked more like a apartement. The big king sized bed being the center of attention.

The lights were also dimmed as you made your way over to the big windows, that led to a balcony. You left the room through the flowing curtains and a beautiful skyline of Rio revealed itself. Although it was quite far away the city looked absouluety stunning from here. All the lights flickering and the sight of your hometown making your heart warm.

You felt two hands wrap around your waist as Kylian hugged you from behind. Resting his head on your shoulders, feeling his chest move up and down.

„It’s nice, huh?“ he whispered, as you finally relaxed into his embrace. Feeling the warmth from his touch.

„It’s amazing.“ you smiled, putting your hand against his cheek „Thank you so much Kyky.“

You felt Kylian sigh, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck „I’m relieved you like it.“

You raised your eyebrows as you turned around, Kylians hands still on your waist only now with you facing him. „Relieved?

„Yeah…“ he took a deep breath, as you looked at his face that was being lit up by the moonlight „For a minute there… I thought you regretted us coming here.“

You put your hand onto his cheek before planting a soft kiss onto his lips. Kylian immediately giving in.

„I don’t regret it.“

I’m not sentimental.

But there’s somethin’ ‚bout the way you look tonight

Kylian pushed you onto the bed as he hovered above you, not disconnecting your lips for a single second. He eagerly took of his blazer before you helped him unbutton his white shirt. Reaching the last button you pulled away from the kiss.

Kylian now kneeling over you, his trained body revealing itself. You looked up at him as he licked his lips, not believing he was about to do this.

With a slow motion, Kylian started to unzip your red dress before sliding it off of you in a smooth motion. All you did was lay there and look up at him with a weak smile, now only wearing black lace underwear.

Just when your hand reached out for his belt Kylian grabbed it, making you look at him confused.

„Wait…“ he now said, before getting up and walking over to the nightstand. You watched him grab his polaroid camera, not daring to say a word as he pointed it at you. You looked up at him, knowing that this wasn’t a good idea. But something inside you made you let him take that picture.

Kylian threw the camera onto the bed, the photo still stuck in it. „Don’t worry. It’s just for me.“

Nobody saw me in the lobby

Nobody saw me in your arms

You walked out the hotel, already seeing the black bus parked there.It was still super early and you hadn’t rested all night.

The nightclerk watching you leave, not saying a word as he also understood what kinda situation this had been.

After you had slept with Kylian, you immediately realized what mistake you had made. You had layed awake with Kylians arms wrapped around you as you started out the big window. Tears rolling down you onto the pillow while you silently cried, feeling your naked bodies against one another as all you could think about was your fiancé.

After a while you couldn’t handle just laying there anymore. Your guilt was eating you up from inside. So you got up, collected your underwear and dress before silently getting dressed.

You made your way down the hallway, getting ready for the walk of shame. The power of your phone being just enough for you to call your hotel to send you a driver and pick you up.

The rest of the time you spent standing there, silently crying as you stared at the floral wallpaper.

The whole ride back all you could think about was how Kylian would feel when he’d wake up without you there. After all you had spent an amazing night together and he was gonna think it meant nothing to you.

It did in fact mean something to you. But you just couldn’t handle the feeling of guilt when you thought about your partner. You did know; you were in deep trouble now.

It might be more of an obsession

You really make a strong impression

When you arrived back at your hotel, you took a shower as you tried to clear your head. Your mind running wild as you thought about how Kylians lips felt against your skin and how his hand would run up and down your body.

It felt like his smell was still on you even after you had showered. You plugged in your phone before laying into your own bed again.It was already ten and you were about to get your first minutes of sleep since over 24 hours.

As you wandered off into dream land you could still hear his words and his whispers. Until you finally doze off.

„Serviço de quarto!“

You were torn from your sleep by a loud knock on the door. Groaning as you sat up, startled by the harsh awakening. The sun shining through your blinds, making you squint your eyes as you reached your hand out for your phone on the nightstand.

16:23

Great, you had literally slept the entire day. You pushed away the bedsheets with your feet. The room felt hot and humid as you had forgotten to turn on the air conditioning.

Kylian had left about a thousand messages and calls, asking where you where and if everything was okay.

What did he think? Of course, everything was not okay. You had cheated on the love of your life last night.

Another knock, followed by a guys voice appeared „Serviço de quarto!“

„I don’t need it!“ you tried to yell but your voice was way too weak. So you decided you just get up and send him away.

Rubbing your eyes, as you groaned making your way to the door. You were still half asleep when you opened it with one big swing.

„I said…“ you stopped in your tracks, seeing who was standing there as you felt like you were gonna have a heartattack „Oh my god!“

„Hello meu amor!“ Neymar smiled before wrapping his arms around you and connecting your lips.

See what you maybe forgot to mention was that Neymar was you fiancè. That’s why this whole thing was a little complicated.

Being Neymars girlfriend, you had gotten quite famous yourself. Not that you wanted any of that. No, you would gladly have back your privacy. A lot of people knew who you were and they knew who your partner was. So just the thought alone of anyone having seen you last night gave you anxiety.

„I missed you so much.“ Neymar mumbled, pulling away before wrapping his arms around your bare waist as you were only wearing a croptop and some shorts.

„I missed you too…“ you fake smiled, standing there awkwardly as you almost couldn’t look him in the eyes „What are you doing here though? I thought you weren’t gonna be back...“

„I know, I know…“ he sighed, pulling you closer as he looked you in the eyes „I actually cancelled some stuff so I could be back earlier. Plus I wouldn’t wanna miss your birthday right? “

„Right.“ you grinned, completely having forgot about your birthday being tomorrow and also feeling bad that Neymar had travelled all the was back from Europe just so he wouldn’t miss it.

"But meus Deus, why are you still asleep at this time? Did you and Kylian have a rough night?" he chuckled, as you ran your hand through your tangled hair.

„What?“ you asked with furrowed eyebrows, panic immedieately settling in.

„I mean Kyky told me you took him to a bar.“

„Oh…“ you said, not trying to sound relieved „Yes it was fun. Not as fun as it would have been with you though. You talked to him?“

„Yeah, yeah…“ Ney nodded, still holding you close to him as you both stood there in the doorway „He knew I was coming.“

The rest of the day only one thing circulated around your mind; He knew? He knew he was coming. He knew it. He had possibly risked Neymar catching the two of you if you hadn’t been smart enough to leave early. He had possibly risked ruining your realitionship.

You were mad. But of course you couldn’t show it as Ney was completely head over heels to be back again. He took you out for dinner and he spent the whole evening talking about the birthday party he had planned for you tomorrow. You at least tried to seem happy about it.

When Ney left, to go to the toilet for a second, you took the opportunity to let out your anger. Aggressively typing a message into your your phone, ignoring all his other texts.

What the hell Kylian? Why did you not tell me that Ney was coming?

The waiter refilled your glass of wine as you gave him a small thanks, waiting for Kylians response.But nothing came. In fact Kylian ignored you for the rest of the evening as you spent time with his best friend, pretending everything was completely normal.

When in fact nothing was normal.

You slept horribly, dreading your birthday and the party that Ney had planned for you. He on the other hand slept like a stone as he was a obviously little jet-lagged.

The whole night all you could think about was that less then 24 hours ago you were laying in Kylians arms. You remembered exactly how it felt, how he smelled and the way he would breath against your neck.

And the worst part was, that you missed it.

You missed him.

I’m not sentimental

But there’s somethin‘ ‚bout the way you look tonight

The party was already in full swings as you walked around greeting all the people. Your silver gown sparkling in the dark, Neymar attached to your hip the whole night, with his hand on your bare back.

This felt like a football event. You didn’t remember ever meeting half the people, most of them having some kind of connection to football. You had to admit you didn’t have many friends as you spent the past years travelling around the world with Neymar.

That’s exactly why you didn’t want any of this but Neymar of course insisted on throwing you a huge party.

Everything being completely over the top, with it being at Rios most expensive hotel. Chandeliers were hung all throughout the big hall, three different bars where you could get all sorts of drinks and food were set up, the most beautiful white rose wherever you looked and a big dancefloor with disco lights in the back.

You didn’t deserve this. And that’s what heavily layed behind your fake smile as you greeted manager after manager. All of them handing you gifts that where probably way too expensive.

„Oh Y/n… Look it’s Veratti.“ Neymar pointed toward his Paris teammate, who was sipping some champagne with his wife in the corner „Let’s go greet them.“

You did wonder why Neymar had invited basically all of his friends to what was supposed to be your birthday party. But then again, you felt bad enough already so you wouldn’t every say anything.

„Ehm… I’m just gonna get a little fresh air and then I’ll come after you.“ you smiled weakly, moving closer to your fiancé as you felt suffocated by the mass of people around you.

Neymar, dressed in an all black suit looked at you worriedly „Everything alright, meus amor?“

Guilt, that’s all you could feel when looking at his face. So you avoided eyecontact and just nodded, pressing your lips together „Yeah, everything is perfect. Thank you so much for all of this Ney.“

Neymar had obviously noticed something being different with his girlfriend. And now that you had called him Ney, he was convinced something was wrong. But he decided to let it go for the moment as he watched you, make your way through the crowd towards the balcony.

You felt tears, fill your eyes as you fought your way through the mass of people. Forcing a smile anytime any of them would greet you.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse; he stood there.

All suited up, holding a small gift in his hand as he stared right at you. For a moment it felt like everyone around you stopped and it was just the two of you. The memories of the past week flowing through your mind.

A tear rolled over your cheek as Kylian gave you a weak smile.

Standing just a few feet away from you as people started to push past you. Making you distance yourself from him until you couldn't even see him.

Makes me wanna make ‚em jealous

I’m the only one who does it how you like

You tried not to sob as you walked into the darkness. Only a few people on the balcony, all of them too distracted to notice a crying woman walk towards the railing.

You leaned yourself against it as you tried to breath normally, feeling like you were gonna run out of air any time now. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life. You were in the city you loved with the man you loved and he had thrown you a party that any girl would kill to have. But there was just one problem; You had fallen for another guy.

„I’m sorry…“ the voice apperead behind you as you turned around to look at Kylian „I shouldn’t have come.“

You pressed your lips together, trying to stop yourself from crying as you turned around to look at the beautiful view of the endless ocean. Lights reflecting on its surface, as a cold breeze blew over your face.

Kylian now made his way up to you, standing there also looking at the view.

„I…I just…“ you chocked, getting frustrated with yourself „I can’t look at him anymore. I mean…“

You looked at Kylian, who looked down in shame before meeting your eyes.

„I can’t look at him Kylian.“ you sobbed, now looking at the french boy „You know what that means?“

There was a moment of silence, both of you knowing the answer to your question very well. Both afraid to say it. Him knowing this was gonna break his best friends heart and you knowing it was gonna break yours. But you couldn't do this anymore, Neymar deserved better.

„It’s over?“ Kylian then asked, his voice quiet as he looked at you from the side.

„Yeah, it has to be.“ you nooded, wiping away your tears wit the back of your hand as you stared at all the lights „I mean look what he did for me… I don’t deserve any of this. I’m a horrible person... So it’s over. It has to be.“

„You’re not a horrible person.“ Kylian now spoke up, putting his hand onto yours as you flinched. Pulling it away and immediately seeing the hurt in his eyes „I think Ney also kinda did this for himself Y/n. I mean these are not your friends. You barely know most of them.“

„But he still….“

„No, Y/n!“ Kylian said, sounding almost angry as he turned his body towards you „For the past year your life has revolved only around him. You supported him in all of his decisions and were always by his side. You’re not a horrible person! You are just a girl who was left alone on what was supposed to be a vacation with her fiancé!“

"Why didn't you tell me?" you then asked, looking at his confused expression "Why didn't you tell me that he was coming? If you had just told me then none of this would have happened!"

"So what you think if I told you, you would have just left me alone at the hotel that night and gone back to the city?" Kylian asked, clearly offended by how little this seemed to have meant to you.

"Yes, that's what I would have done!" you yelled, looking at him coldly before hissing „I think you should go.“

„What?“ Kylian yelled, completely frustrated with your stubborness.

„I really think you should go now.“ you bit your lip, in order to stop yourself from crying.

Kylian looked at you, not believing any of this was actually happening. He had thought that if you cheated on Neymar it would have at least meant something. Because it had meant something to him.

„Alright. Fine.“ he hissed, reaching into his pocket as he pulled out the small gift he had held before. Kylian forcefully shoved it in your hand before looking at you one last time „Happy Birthday Y/n!“

With that he turned around and walked away, leaving a heartbroken you behind. Tonight you would not only lose your fiancé but you had also lost your friend.

It took you a few minutes to recollect yourself. And then, even though you didn’t want to your hands slowly untied the bow. You carefully opened the small box, the inside making your heart wrench.

It was all the polaroids Kylian had took of you during your trip together. At the beach, in the car, in the club on the night you had kissed for the first time, on the balcony at the hotel, laying on the bed in only your underwear and finally a picture of the two of you together that he had taken while you where asleep.

His arm wrapped around you as he kissed your cheek.

And on the back of it. It was written;

I’m not sentimental

But there’s something about the way you looked that night, that made me wanna take a picture that I knew we’d have to hide.

Happy Birthday Y/N. Love, Kyky.

Send Requests!

Erling Haaland: (NSFW) Sex Positions

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Find more at: Masterlist

Erling Haaland x (female) reader

WARNINGS: SEX; short!reader.

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

--

The height difference makes it practically impossible to have missionary sex so you’re forced to try out new positions, to see what works best for you.

Riding him is one of the options and personally Erling loves it. He stays seated, letting you ride him. To see you getting all flustered and sweaty, your hands dearly holding onto to his shoulders as you fuck yourself on his cock. The steady bounce of your breasts as you’re the one controlling the speed and how much of him you take. 

If you get tired, he can always move his hips from underneath you or help you ride him. His hands palming your ass, effortlessly moving you up and down like a weightless doll as you rest with your face on his shoulder, worn off.  

He definitely teases you in this position, a half smirk on his face.

“Getting tired already, huh? But, baby, this is only round 1 yet.” 

“So desperate for my huge cock. Fuck, keep going, baby.”

Doggy style is also an option, but Erling has to be careful as not to hurt you, given his immense strength. The good thing is that he goes much deeper, alongside with the primal feeling the position provides you. 

It’s usually reserved for when you need to blow off some steam, ending up in a rough sex session. It’s so intense to have him manhandle you, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you there as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll feel me inside of you for weeks.”

“Look at that, taking my cock like you’re made for it.” 

Table top is also a frequent position in your sex life, being a good replacement for the impossible missionary one. You love it when he fucks you in this position, his hips steadily meeting yours as his hand sneaks to your clit, bringing you closer to your release, facing each other. The bed/table/furniture constantly squeaking underneath your joint weights, especially when Erling picks up the pace. 

Even though these are the most frequent sex positions you guys do, you clearly end up doing more riding and table top as they’re the ones that actually allow you to face each other, something that you love a lot. 

-----------

࿐ ˚ . ✦ MORNING. jude bellingham

summary. waking up with jude on a typical day.

warnings. fluff w/ mentions of smut at the end

word count. 465

waking up, you’d feel the softest graze of fingers pacing through your hair. in front of you would lay the love of your life with the softest smile greeting you. it was like this every day. it’s safe to say how lucky you are to be with someone like him.

the most gentle, sweetest guy, yet the most flamboyant and energetic person you know. there was no one that could truly compare to jude. 

his greetings to you in the morning were dainty. you loved it because of the soft touch he’d combine with the sweetest words that rolled off his tongue like butter.

“sleep well, angel?” he’d whisper with the faintest smile spread across his face. you felt his eyes survey you, which made your stomach turn. he never failed to give you butterflies.

“mhm,” you’d reply, half awake, as he’d brush your temples.

it was moments like these that made every single sacrifice for each other so sacred. the pain, the distance… it disappeared as soon as you laid before his touch. 

you could feel his eyes scanning your face before scooting closer to him for daily (required, ofc) cuddles. his hands would make entry toward your back, snuggling as hard as possible and forcing a laugh out of you. you loved when he did this—the closeness of the physical banter made you feel closer to him.

fluttering your eyes open and fixating them on the figure before you was always one of your favorite intimate moments. a sort of closeness difficult to find anywhere else. his pretty, dark eyes looking back at you in the silence of the room were indescribable. all i could think of is how lucky i really am to be spending the rest of my life with someone as perfect as him.

“hi, gorgeous.” jude uttered, brushing his faint lips above my forehead before pecking my forehead.

“hi.” you giggled from the tickling sensation. 

he paused before asking, "why are you so," he drifted his lips, "pretty?"

“i’m so lucky to have the prettiest girl snuggled in with me right now.” he cooed.

“shut up” you chuckled, burying yourself into his neck trying to hide the red on my face.

“no… seriously. like it’s weird how you chose me of all people.” he continued, “i get to show you off to my friends, like, how lucky am i?” he professed.  

you gave him a soft look before hiding in his chest. “stop,” you chuckled. “i’m the lucky one. my man is so handsome… and talented, and he knows how to throw it down in the sheets.” you both chuckled before he began kissing attacking you, and holding you so that you couldn’t resist.

“oh, do i, baby?” he continued pecking your cheeks while you giggled for him to stop.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ FLOUR. jude bellingham

summary. what seemed to be a harmless night to bake turned out to be a disaster.

warnings. cursing

word count. 937

“JUDE!”

you yelled from across the house. it was getting late in your household, but you still hadn’t started on the cookies you were bringing to your friends’ dinner party tomorrow night. 

you really had no idea where to start; all you really knew was that you needed to get this done soon because of the short amount of time you had available tomorrow.

you could hear him stumble down the stairs while you were fishing through the pantry, trying to figure out where the flour was. 

“yes, love?” he murmured behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, his arms making their way toward your waist to pull you closer to him. 

"do you mind getting some stuff for the cookies from the fridge for me? i think they might be on the bottom shelf," you huffed, eventually retrieving the bag of flour that was hidden behind a few random jars. he nodded before kitchen into the kitchen, beginning to search the fridge, grabbing the basic ingredients needed for cookies.

you grabbed a few other things–measuring cups, sugar, and baking powder, to name a few—before meeting him with the ingredients disarranged on the counter. you quickly thanked him before quickly scrolling through your phone to find the recipe you saved from instagram and shuffled to find a mixing bowl to combine everything.

you put your phone down before starting the wet cookie mixture, mindlessly dumping the ingredients together and stirring as you go.

“do you need help?” he chirped. you had no idea he’d been watching this entire time, but the sudden murmur startled you. “jesus christ, jude.” you jumped.

“what were you doing? i thought you went back upstairs” you scolded him as he caught the bowl you slid from across the counter. he dashed alongside you, eager to learn about the new experience about which you had prior knowledge.

“where do i start?” queried the curious boy. pointing at the flour, you replied, “grab that first.” 

he grabbed the paper bag as you handed him a measuring cup, tapping at the line in the glass. "fill it up to here, okay?" you uttered as he grabbed the handle and slowly poured the bag. you switched your focus back to your bowl, reaching for the vanilla extract before you felt powder splatter on your face.

“jude… what. the. fuck.” you gasped. you quickly wiped the powder off the side of your face to reveal him with his mouth agape, slowly pacing backward, holding back laughter. you clutched a fistful of flour before running toward him and smearing it across his face, leaving him stunned. “thought you could get away with that, didn’t you?” you chuckled, watching him process the mess you left on him that slowly dropped to the floor.

“nah, now you’re over” he snarled with a stern voice, approaching the bag of flour and snatching a chunk while you were running around the kitchen trying to dodge him.

"jude, please stop," you begged with your hands together like a prayer. You were on your way to the bathroom at this point, but as you approached the doorknob, he grabbed your waist and powdered the top of your head. you immediately winced; you thought that maybe you’d gotten away from the mess. you quickly turn around at the grinning face. you tried grabbing the bag to get revenge, but he’d already raised it above your head—so you couldn’t reach it if you tried to. you tried to jump, your legs wrapped around his hips, hoping to yank the bag, but he'd held it even higher; you were helpless.

"what’s the matter, baby? are you mad you can’t reach?" he was inching toward your face, teasing you. 

you sighed, pretending to be upset, walking back toward the kitchen, continuing where you left off. “y/n,” he muttered. “are you actually upset?” you could feel him inch towards you before secretly grabbing an egg. 

“you know i didn’t mean i-” he tried tugging at you for your attention before you smashed the egg on his head. you both quickly froze, and the room fell silent. the look on his face was priceless—he was astonished. “no way you actually…” he was clearly still trying to process what had happened. 

you knew you were in danger as soon as he started trailing towards you, so you quickly ran in the other direction before tripping on a rolling pin, which you had no idea was there in the first place. 

yelping, he quickly caught you in time before fixing his eyes on yours. there was a long stillness before he smeared the flour still on your head onto the rest of your face. you huffed—this was never going to end.

“you’re so annoying,” you muffled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your eye. “but…” he paused, “you love it.” he flashed a cheeky smile before pressing his lips onto yours. he picked you up and placed you on the counter, maintaining the kiss. your legs were wrapped around his waist as you stroked his ear. you could feel him smile through the kiss, softening at your caress. 

you pulled apart, leaving a small peck on his lips. the room was silent, yet comforting. “you don’t taste that bad with flour all over your lips,” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes as you jumped from the counter. “we should probably clean this mess up,” you said, scanning the floor as you snickered, “but not before we shower.” you glanced at him. 

“i mean…” he smirked before you grabbed his hand, signaling toward the bathroom.

heyy can i request a fluff with jude where you guys go on a date to winter wonderland and hes really clingy <3

࿐ ˚ . ✦ WINTER WONDERLAND. jude bellingham

summary. your first time coming to winter wonderland w jude.

warnings. none

word count. 1164

a warm smile spread across your face as you and your boyfriend of 6 months were on the way to winter wonderland together for the first time. you'd been wanting to go since you two first started dating, and it felt surreal to finally be able to live the experience you'd been looking forward to for so long. you two had been engaging in conversation about the rides you’d go on, but knowing him, he’d probably—no, definitely chicken out.

“when we get there, we have to ride the hangover. i’m not leaving until we go on it at least once.” he prompted, quickly glancing at you before focusing back at the road. “ehh, i remember seeing someone get sick right after getting off a few years ago, though. it still freaks me out thinking about it.” mentioning the story made you feel a little jittery, but you’d be willing to get on it, as long as it was with him.

“it can’t be that bad. maybe they had an easy stomach, but i don’t. it’ll be fun,” he claimed, resulting in your eyes rolling as you fixed your gaze in front of you, watching as he steered into the entrance. watching all the pretty, bright lights made you feel in awe. all the energetic people jumping around as they got off their rides gave you goosebumps. you already knew how fun this would be. 

he quickly turned into a parking spot before turning the engine off. you were quick to open the passenger seat door, but he quickly stopped you—"stop right there," he demanded, before running to your side of the car and reopening the door. "now you can exit," he chirped, bending his knees a bit too much to seem gentlemanly. you giggled before replying, "well, thank you."

you stepped out, quickly inhaling the air around you, nostalgic of the vivid environment. hearing the kids chase each other around and the rustling steel of the rollercoasters made you eager to ride the rollercoasters again after it had been closed for a year. you quickly turned around, hearing his footsteps dart toward you. "let’s race to the entry, yeah?" he announced before lunging toward the ticket machines. "jude, no," you cried, chasing after him, knowing full and well you weren’t as fast as him. "i swear, you’ll be the death of me." you muttered under your breath, trying to catch up to the tall figure. "can’t hear you back there!" jude exclaimed.

you eventually approached him while he paid for the tickets. "took you long enough." he giggled as you were merely out of breath. you shot him a glare before jokingly walking back to the parking lot. "wait, you know i was just kidding, baby," he said as he took your hands into his and laced them together. "oh, let’s go on that one first!" he shouted in excitement, his finger darting toward a big green rollercoaster with a sign next to it named the 'euro coaster' he gave no time for a response before jogging toward the attraction. you matched his pace, following him toward the bright sign.

he paid the vendor before awaiting the ride. thankfully, it was a tuesday, so it wasn’t that busy to where there’d be a ten-minute line for ride entry. he dragged his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in, while staring at the people screaming on the ride in amusement. “aren’t you excited?” he watched him in awe as you simply nodded.

the ride eventually came to a halt, with the group of people exiting, giddy from the experience. you watched as he quickly scurried toward the gate. you sat next to him, taking in the final moments before the exhilarating ride.

the intercoms came on, and the inspectors began to click the belts, and before you knew it, the tracks began to click. “maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” his voice began to tremble as the ride neared the top. he quickly intertwined your fingers together in fear before the ride quickly declined, resulting in screams from both of you. you looked over at him to see him terrified for the next steep dip, giggling at the sight. 

at the end of the ride, you clicked off your belt and exited the seat, jumping up in excitement. "that was fun, wasn’t it? you watched as he struggled to process what had happened. "we should probably go on the merry-go-round next." he audibly swallowed, earning a chuckle from you. "yeah, no," you said as you took his hand in yours and walked toward the next ride.

as much as you wished to go on the hangover, he refused, claiming that his “stomach hurt even looking at it.” so, you just opted to go on a less intense ride. still, he gripped your hand like there was no tomorrow and screamed like a baby during the steep drops.

after getting off, you suggested going to the carousel to take pictures together. he was insistent on the idea, which wasn’t surprising considering how shaky he was after the actual rollercoasters. you two traced toward the ride before hopping onto the seat, admiring the atmosphere around you once again. 

he held his arm around you as your cheek occupied his shoulder. “it’s so pretty out,” you whispered. he nodded in agreement, “not as pretty as you, though.” you shook your head, giggling at his reply. “you’re so corny.” 

you admired the view around you before you heard a sudden camera click and looked up at him with his phone out. “what are you doing?” you muttered, sitting up. “you look pretty,” he replied, looking at the pictures on his screen. you looked in the other direction to prevent him from taking more. “why are you looking away? i’m trying to compliment my beautiful girlfriend,” he giggled, eyes fixed on you. you felt your heart skip a beat from the praise. you slowly looked back at the staring boy who was flashing a smile at you.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before murmuring, “i’m so lucky.” you couldn’t help but flush at his exchange of words. you two gazed at each other for a while before he pecked your cheek, your giggles breaking the silence.

"i think i love you," he proclaimed. your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden speech. maybe he had the impression that the relationship wasn't that intense yet, apologizing quickly: "i mean—not to make you uncomfortable or anything." his words were interrupted by a prompt kiss. he paused before sinking into it.

you pulled away after a few seconds, looking into his soft, puppy dog eyes. “i love you, too, jude,” you confessed, slightly chuckling.

the carousel coincidentally came to a stop, and you two exited hand-in-hand. he led you out with a teethy smile plastered across his face. "ooh, is that a cocoa stand? i haven’t had one in forever," you said, dashing toward the concessions as he quickly followed.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ BABY FEVER. jude bellingham

summary. you and jude visit your sister who recently had a baby, and he (unsurprisingly) is more excited than you to meet the newborn.

cw. just fluff

word count. 1008

it was a foggy morning. you and jude were on your way to visit your sister who recently gave birth to your first niece. naturally, you were very excited. seeing her on facetime would make you giddy. since the beginning of the road trip, you’ve been thinking of the countless things you’d do with your new niece while staying over. 

the entire car ride, you and your boyfriend had been talking about life concerns—work, friendships, and, of course, how you two would react to the new baby. you were teasing him, claiming that he’d be more excited than you would be. and to be honest, seeing the way he’d immediately become infatuated when around his teammates’ kids made you melt inside—like, to the point of considering having children this young. 

“you seriously think i’ll be more excited than you?! that’s your niece, for god’s sake!” jude exclaimed, eyes widening in disbelief, as his hands brushed the leather of the wheel.

you knew you were going to be in love with the new addition to your family, but you always loved bantering with jude about things like these, knowing how irritated and unsure he’d be.

you chuckled, looking over at the distraught boy. “nah, i see how you get all cheery when you’re around kids. there’s no denying it, darling.”

“well, that’s different. especially cause this is your niece we’re talking about, y/n,” he ranted, darting a quick glare at you before returning his gaze back to the road.

you fixed your posture towards him, resting your elbow on the armrest, glancing at him. “well,” you paused, “you wanna bet?”

“what? that’s so stupid, babe.” he scoffed. his shoulders stiffened a little while replying to your hypothetical question. “jude, just say that you’ll love her more than me. i won’t be hurt.” he rolled his eyes as you continued to tease him.

“whatever, we’ll be there in somewhere around 15 minutes, so we’ll really see who’ll be more excited,” he sassed, shaking his head. you giggled before digressing into another random topic.

finally, you pulled into the driveway of your sister's home. you were ecstatic, immediately jumping out of the car and popping the trunk to grab your bags, as you were going to be staying for a few days. “what’s taking you so long, grandpa?” you yelled at jude, who was taking his sweet time to leave the car for whatever reason. his shoes shuffled as he lazily walked toward the back to collect the rest of the luggage. sure, he just drove 3 hours straight, but he just wasn’t walking quickly enough for your pace. he shot you a glare before grabbing some of the bags left in the car.

you dropped the luggage on the porch before firmly knocking on the door, which quickly opened, revealing your sister’s warm smile. you immediately greeted her, pulling her in for a tight hug before jude approached the two of you.

you and jude stepped into the foyer with your bags. you immediately took a deep inhale of the new environment, which is routine, of course. “i’m sure you want to see the baby already,” your sister paused, turning around “come follow me,” she signaled as she walked up the stairs. you glanced over at jude, eager to see the newborn. he exchanged your excitement, beaming at you.

“and here she is,” your sister opened the door, revealing a dainty nursery. you wobbled toward the crib, softening when facing the sleeping bundle of joy. you turned over at her, covering your mouth out of pure shock and admiration. she nodded, walking towards you. “you can hold her, just be gentle,” she whispered as you silently scooped your niece.

“she’s beautiful,” you murmured before bouncing the baby. looking at the faint face made your stomach coil. you were internally screaming out of joy. 

“i should probably go heat up her milk before she wakes up,” your sister spoke, breaking the silence, “i’ll leave you two alone for a sec, i’ll be back soon,” she said before the door clicked shut.

“isn’t she pretty?” you whispered, following a nod from jude.

"would you like to hold her, my love?" you paused before extending your arms slightly. he carefully held the baby from your arms without reluctance. his pretty, puppy dog eyes seemed so fascinated with the newborn in his arms. you watched as a faint smile spread on his face. it was impossible not to melt when you saw the two of them together.

“aren’t you the cutest baby ever?” he whispered. he looked back up at you, mouthing what seemed to be ‘i can’t,’ causing you to giggle. you scooted closer to the two before caressing the baby's chubby cheeks. the baby briefly yawned, causing you two to gasp from the cuteness.

after having dinner with your sister and brother-in-law, you were chatting with your boyfriend on the bed about casual topics, but you couldn’t help but notice the number of times he’d bring up how adorable the baby was, or how he’d immediately jump when the baby would cry. 

“jude, you really talk about that baby more than me,” you exclaimed.

“y/n, i can’t help it. she’s so adorable,” he winced, hiding in his hands. “see—this was exactly what i was talking about in the car and you denied every one of my words. you’re so predictable.” you sighed, glancing at the cheesing boy. 

he shrugged following your declarative. “you know—” he muttered with a suggestive tone.

“jude if you’re gonna say anything about us having a baby, i’m gonna shut you down. we’re teenagers, in case you forgot,” you interrupted.

“you know me so well,” he clicked his tongue, before glancing at the clock. “but, can we go back to see the baby before she falls asleep?” he squeaked, turning toward you with doe eyes.

“you’re so annoying,” you huffed before rolling off of the bed, where he immediately followed, chuckling. “you love me, though,” he whispered in your ear as you immediately shook your head.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ FAMILIAR FACE. jude bellingham

summary. you stumble across your ex at a cafe.

cw. angst, cursing

word count. 1389

you let out a big exhale into the cool atmosphere, adjusting the backpack strap that weighed upon your shoulder. a soft guitar and the low hum of a feminine voice accompanied the headphones attached to your ears.

it was finals season. you’d been studying for long stretches of time throughout the past week or so, and stress was constantly piling upon your shoulders. and if that wasn’t enough, you’d been dealing with a recent breakup.

although it was a mutual breakup, you’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t a tough time for you. honestly, you’d do anything to speed up the time, but it’s been moving slower than ever.

it’s been a month since the separation, and you've been sulking in your room. dishes were piling up on your nightstand, and dirty laundry was piling up on the floor. as much as you've tried to convince yourself that it didn't hurt, it has had an impact on you in a variety of ways, big and small. you've tried to suppress the relics and decided to take a small leap and study at the cafe near your house instead of in your bedroom, surrounded by the mess that's been progressively collecting.

the cafe door immediately chimed as you pulled on the metal handle. you took in the familiar aroma of the coffee beans before walking toward the barista at the register, ordering your ‘regular,’ in other words, a vanilla latte—which perfectly paired with the snowy day outside. you paid before scanning the rest of the building. you come pretty often, so there wasn’t much to compare to the previous visit. however, you became immediately reminiscent of the times you and jude would spend here. he'd sometimes take you before class or on a casual date, and so forth. your eyes met the booth in which you two would always sit together, and you couldn’t help but stare. all the giggles, kisses, and snuggles that you’d share in that seat felt bittersweet as you began to recall the memories.

"y/n?" the barista called, setting the paper cup on the to-go ledge. your head prompted you toward the signal when you realized your coffee was ready. grabbing the cup, you drifted toward the booth you’d previously set your eyes upon. you set your things on the cushion next to you, beginning to study in the sanguine ambiance.

from noon on, you’d be occasionally distracted. sometimes by the chimes of the door, or the bright clothing of passersby. your mind couldn’t occupy the notebook in front of you for too long before wandering toward other happenings in the cafe. while taking a break from studying, a tan figure struck your eye, and it didn’t take you long to decipher who it was: your ex-boyfriend. your heart immediately skipped a beat before you heard the door jingle. fuck. you scrambled to figure out how to disguise yourself because the table wasn't far from the entrance. you pulled the hood of your jacket on, trying to seem engaged with your schoolwork. it felt as if your heart momentarily stopped before a gust of air traveled past you. you took a silent breath, relieved of the potential outcome that could've occurred if he'd seen you.

you tried to attend to your notes for the time being, but the familiar voice behind you was daunting you more than you’d like. the echo of his voice brought a sense of nostalgia. your chest became increasingly heavy as you listened to the small talk he and the barista shared as he placed his order. his voice was soft and faint, and there were glimpses of that damn laugh that you missed too much.

his sneakers squeaked upon the tile as he said his goodbyes to the baristas. you tried looking away again, hoping that your hoodie would hide you well enough. the voice chirped toward you as the figure passed, ending your awaited relief.

“y/n?” he murmured, “is that you?”

your shoulders sank; you didn’t think that he’d be able to see you, but here we are.

your head lifted, making eye contact with the figure ahead of you, “yeah, it’s me,” you replied, gazing at the eyes that you hadn’t seen in some time. “i’m surprised you’re here,” he muttered. “mind if i sit?” he asked, pointing toward the seat in front of you. you nodded, as he slumped into the seat, setting his coffee on the table.

there was a brief pause between your last exchange of words. you fixed your stare on the wall of the cafe as he scanned the table that held your school supplies. 

“how’s school?” he muttered, breaking the silence. “it’s been fine. just stressful.” you replied as he nodded. “how’s work?” you asked, reciprocating the same concern. he let out a big sigh, “yeah, it’s been,” he paused, “a lot, too.” 

this interaction had been awkward so far, to say the least, but it was a brief reminder of why you two had gone separate ways: the lack of communication following your hectic school and work lives.

"have you been taking care of yourself, y/n?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. you shifted your gaze to him, who appeared concerned. you let out a small chuckle. "do i look that rough right now?" you replied, smiling at your cunning reply. "ah, no, not like that—it’s just, you seem tired, and we haven’t seen each other in so long, you know?" he let out a panicked reply as you laughed again.

"i know, i was just kidding, jude," you said, pausing, "i’ve been trying to keep myself together. it’s just been a little difficult, but i’m trying." he let out a hum as he nodded.

the sound of him taking small sips from his drink fell against the sequential wave of silence. 

you’d been thinking of things to say or even bring up to combat the quiet and to leave as fast as possible. you watched his face before breaking the silence, "i still have some of your things at my place if you want me to stop by and return them later to–" you said before he interrupted, "y/n, i don’t think i can do this without you." his voice cracked before his eyes darted toward yours. 

"hmm? what do you mean?" your head tilted at his sudden statement. "i just can’t," he huffed. "i can’t even explain how difficult it is to not wake up by your side anymore, or to see your face whenever i come home. it’s really weighing on me more than you think." you couldn’t help but blink at him, trying to process what he just said. judging by the look on his face, he seemed concerned—almost hopeless. "and i’m sorry if i ever hurt you. i never intended to. it pains me to see how tired you are—probably because of me."

"say something. anything," he prompted again. you tried to choke up a response, but nothing seemed to come out. your feelings before the breakup began to resurface. you were inseparable without him, and truthfully, you haven’t been yourself since the split. you tried to analyze yourself as much as possible before giving a genuine response.

"i," you paused, "i'm not sure, jude." you stammered, slightly shrugging your shoulders. you could tell he was apprehensive from your response. he looked down at his lap as you tried to come up with the right words to say. 

"you know i still love you with my entire heart, right?" you comforted him, who appeared to be upset. "and, i miss you so much, too. it’s been different since you left." you adjoined. "to be honest—i don’t think i can do this much longer without you, either, jude." you watched his head lift up, gaze fixed upon yours.

“so, what do you want to do?” you cocked your head, staring at the figure in front of you. he slightly shrugged his shoulders, “well, do you accept my apology, first of all?” he inquired, ensuing a nod from you. a smile fell on his face, “then, will you be my girlfriend…again? you swayed your head to the side, grinning at the question that resulted in some of the best experiences of your life together. you nodded your head, 

“of course, i’ll be your girlfriend. again.”

࿐ ˚ . ✦ I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS. jude bellingham

summary. visiting your childhood best friend for the first time after a while

cw. fluff, maybe just a little angst

word count. 1554

it was the first day back home from school in a while. 

you've been settling back into your childhood home, taking in the familiar surroundings while unpacking clothing, doing laundry, and spending time with your siblings—whom you haven't seen in what feels like an eternity.

and while studying in a different country was well worth the foreign experience, there were some things you missed about your hometown, specifically your childhood best friend, jude. every now and again, you’d begin to think about him,  pondering how he’s been since graduating high school. yeah, you two follow each other on social media, occasionally DMing each other every once in a while to ‘check up,’ and such, but it just doesn’t compare to the warm soul you’ve known since toddler days.

every time you come back home, your parents are quick to ask about you and jude, frequently asking things such as, “have you been talking to jude since you landed?” which of course segues into his football career and how you’ve ‘missed the opportunity to become a football wife,’ which never fails to earn a scoff from you.

whenever the question gets brought up again, it really makes you think: how is jude? it’s been a while since i’ve talked to him in person. it made you kind of sad to think about how he must be a completely different person now that he’s used to the money and all of the public figures that surround him. 

for some reason, you were determined to talk to him just once before flying back to school, just to genuinely see how he’s been doing over a cup of coffee. 

"hey, dad, you still talk to jude’s parents, right? where do they live now?" you inquired at random while biting into the chicken you had prepared for lunch. his eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed confused—which makes sense as it was a blindsided question, "ah, yeah, i do. are you trying to talk to them or something?" he replied.

"something like that," you muttered, looking down at your plate to fish out another bite. "i’ll text you their address," he said, picking up his phone. your heart started to pace, and you had to ponder the decision of whether or not to visit the boy you were once inseparable with.

-

it eventually became dark outside. you finished dinner with your family, catching up on random things that have happened since you’ve been gone. you were laying in bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone, when he randomly popped up in your mind again. this time, you finally decided to take matters into your own hands, grabbing a coat from your closet and ordering an uber to take you to his house. 

throughout the car ride, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears out of nervousness, thinking about all of the possible reactions and what could go wrong. maybe it was the lack of traffic or the pacing thoughts, but the 15-minute drive flew before your eyes before the driver parked into the driveway of his home—which was beautiful and more updated compared to the neighborhood you two grew up in. you quickly thanked the driver before stepping out of the car, taking in the heavy air. you looked around at the decorations of the homes throughout the neighborhood, slowly pacing toward his front door, where your heart beat faster than ever.

you attempted to take deep breaths as you stood in front of his home before you knocked on the door. you were greeted by his mom, denise. you watched as her eyes widened and a smile spread on her face, engulfing you in a hug. it’s been a while since you’ve seen her, but you remember all the times she’s treated you like her own. it was a sincere moment, to say the least. she invited you in before engaging in small talk about uni, before a tall, familiar figure strut down the stairs. he had a shocked look on his face, big eyes, and a slightly agape mouth.

“jude, i was just about to call you down. come say hi to y/n.” she prompted, waving her arm to signal toward you two.

you chuckled while he quickly jogged over with a cheeky smile, pulling you in for a hug. you took in his scent as he wiggled into the hug. he smelt of a musky cologne, which smelt so mature and masculine, it made you weak in the knees. in terms of appearance, you could still recognize his smile and slightly concealed eyes whenever he appeared. he simply matured a little bit.

"jude, you’re squishing me," you mumbled, giggling under your breath. "sorry, it’s a habit." he implied before pulling away. you let out a big exhale as you scanned over his figure, his biceps slightly catching you off guard, and a short silence took over. "it’s been a while, hasn’t it?" you affirmed as he nodded. "y/n, we should take a walk, yeah?" he asserted, heading to open the door. you didn’t really have a choice, so you scurried toward the cement outside as he followed.

you two strolled together down the sidewalk, taking in the snowy atmosphere, which made you both nostalgic for all of the snow fights and sledding adventures you'd always do together as kids.

eventually, the silence was broken by a low mutter beside you. “so, how’s school overseas?”

"ah, it’s been super fun. i’ve been meeting lots of interesting people. you should visit the area one day, it’s great." you jabber, observing the environment around you. "how’s dortmund?"

“work’s work, you know? but it’s been good. training’s been kicking my ass this winter” he replied. you watched as he looked down at his feet, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

“you’re not too cold, are you?” he inquired, shuffling to take off the puffer coat he had on. you shook your head, insisting that your coat was already enough, but of course, he’d already wrapped it around you. you chuckled at the gesture, knowing fully well that you’d take the jacket back with you.

"jude, honestly, i’ve missed you a lot recently," you paused. "it feels like it was just yesterday when we graduated together, and it sucks that we grew apart when we started doing our own thing," you stated, fixing your gaze at him.

“you have? i lowkey thought that you were occupied with school already, i’m not going to lie,” he chuckled, making eye contact with you. “but honestly, yeah, i agree with you.”

"i’m glad you came tonight, though. "i missed my best friend a lot too," he admitted, making you feel a lot better about your impulsiveness.

you two stopped at a bench positioned near the sidewalk, and you signaled for him to sit alongside you. 

-

you sighed before resting your head on his shoulder and swaying into a conversation that lasted all night about a variety of topics that had been on your mind for months, but you didn't have the courage to speak to anyone.

"no, you should’ve seen the look on her face. i never told her that i did it though, cause that would’ve caused so much commotion and i definitely would’ve gotten kicked out of my dorm." you rambled as he cackled at your story. His laughter came to a halt as he scanned over you, seemingly watching the sky as snow pellets fell. you didn’t realize he was staring, but you slightly flinched when he’d pulled a strand of hair behind your ear, prompting you to look over in his direction.

"you know, y/n, you’ve gotten a lot prettier ever since you lost the braces and the chunky glasses you used to wear," he teased you with a smug look on his face, causing you to send a stare back. "what?" he chuckled, "i was just kidding, you've always been pretty; i just didn't tell you because you'd run away as if I'd done something wrong."

your cheeks began to flush a tint of red, looking in the other direction as he kept his gaze on you. he scoffed before pulling your cheek, “y/n, no way you’re ignoring me right now.” you hissed at his sudden movement, turning toward the boy with a smirk on his face as he teased you. “you’re not getting a response from me jude, move along” you taunted. “if anything, you’ll have to earn a response.”

he shook his head before tickling your stomach, immediately making you coil and giggle. "yeah? i have to earn it?" he grinned, continuing to tickle you while you were trapped in his arms. "jude, stop, or i’m gonna beat your ass, literally" you stammered, struggling to produce a response between your giggles. he finally halted his teasing but kept his arms around you.

"it’s getting a little late, but i really missed this, jude," you whispered as your head occupied his shoulder. "yeah, we should probably head back in." he replied, nodding. "do you need a ride back home? we can probably do some carpool karaoke on the way" he suggested, prompting you to turn your head in agreeance.

"i’ll beat you to the car, bellingham," you spat, bolting off to his house. he of course won the race, but that's beside the point.

━ SAINTWYFE'S MASTERLIST ୨୧

updated as of nov 14, reqs closed

⤷ jude bellingham.

VIRRRRGIN: just a gf who wants to make her bf feel good. [nsfw]

PROVE IT: a night out, gone lewd [nsfw]

GOING AWAY: going away to uni wasn't as unforeseen as you thought it'd be. [angst]

THUNDER: he's a ten (but he's scared of thunderstorms) [fluff]

STAY THE NIGHT?: when you're just not ready for your bf to leave yet [fluff]

SKINCARE: begging your boyfriend to do face masks together [fluff]

PDA: you and jude in the corner of an event doing little couple things [fluff]

I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS: visiting your childhood best friend for the first time after a while [fluff, angst]

BABY FEVER: you and jude visit your sister who recently had a baby, and he (unsurprisingly) is more excited than you to meet the newborn. [fluff]

WINTER WONDERLAND: your first time coming to winter wonderland w jude. [fluff]

MORNING: waking up with jude on a typical day. [fluff]

all of my fics are lowercase intended

please do not copy, translate, or share my work to other blogs

♡.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ PDA. jude bellingham

summary. you and jude in the corner of an event doing little couple things :p

cw. none

word count. 528

"you’re not uncomfortable, are you?" 

he lowered his head, his breath hovering over the hem of your neck. 

"no, i’m fine. i promise, my love," you said, chuckling as your hand brushed his neck.

being about the sixth or seventh time he’s asked you this since you’ve been at this event, you found it incredible how much he needed reassurance about your security. you couldn’t complain, though. the extra attention was nice.

you two were intertwined in the bay of the busy venue. being an award ceremony, cameras were ubiquitous, and interviews were being conducted all over the room. luckily, he’d already appeared in a few, so you basically had him all to yourself for the rest of the night, excluding the instances of small talk exchanged with random acquaintances of his, of course.

his left hand gripped your waist, making sure everyone knew you were his (which simultaneously kindled your relationship's publicity). every now and again, he’d pull you in closer, and out of curiosity, you’d look up at him to make sure he wasn’t signaling for something.

your eyes darted to the side of your torso that he’d been latching onto when he pulled in slightly tighter again. instinctively, your eyes darted to his to make sure he wasn’t in trouble. unbothered, he’d just been scanning the room, watching his professional counterparts interact with each other. it took him a few seconds to realize that you’d been staring at him, and for the moment his eyes met with yours, you smiled. 

he hovered over to the nape of your neck, rhapsodizing, "you look so, so gorgeous tonight." he pulled away, grinning. 

for a second, you wanted to hide your flushed face, but your eyebrows just furrowed as you retained a gushing smile. "yea? i do?" you queried.

he nodded, repositioning you so that you were facing each other rather than side by side. "you do." he followed, "i can’t believe you’re mine. all mine." he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear while stroking your cheek along the way.

you bit your lip, preoccupied with scanning his angel-like features. you were taken aback when he did that eyes-lips-eyes thing (iykyk). it was difficult not to tremble—you couldn’t handle the butterflies. though you two have been dating for a hot second, there’s still a nervous pit you get in your stomach whenever you interact with him, let alone display affection.

you fluttered your puppy dog eyes, clueless of his temptations, forcing him to initiate something. 

"you know, it’s so hard to try not to kiss you right now." he muttered, almost whining.

your eyebrows furrowed, letting out a small chuckle. "mm, then why don’t you?" you teased, cocking your head.

he shook his head, his hand reaching to cup your cheek before crashing his lips onto yours. his lips were soft and cherry-flavored from his lip balm. it was easy to drown in them. his other hand skimmed your back, pulling you closer to him and immersing you deeper in the kiss. your arm found itself cradling his neck for extra support. before you could pull back, you felt and quickly recognized a bright white flash in your direction.

click.

an: hmmm finally tumblr decided to cooperate with my posts? don’t even know why my tags were bugging for months but expect a post soon <3 thank u for 4k+ notes while I was gone, lygsm.

࿐ ˚ . ✦ SKINCARE. jude bellingham

summary. begging your boyfriend to do face masks together

cw. none, fluff

word count. 1054

after scrolling through tiktok and coming across multiple videos of couples together (specifically doing face masks and skincare), you had the bright idea of bothering your boyfriend, jude.

"juuuudeeee," you flung yourself onto the boy next to you, who’d also been on his phone.

"what, babe?" he replied, his eyes still preoccupied by what seemed to be some sort of mobile game.

"let’s do face masks together," you whined, stretching your arms to move the phone from his face, attempting to steer his attention toward you.

he shot you a critical glance while dodging your attempts to fling his phone. "uhm…" he paused while tapping away, "let’s do it later."

you scoffed, "i can’t do it later, though." you sat up from your previous position, "please, babe. it’ll be so much more fun than your game."

"mhm, for sure," he chuckled, contesting your statement. you rolled your eyes in annoyance..

"what’s so fun about it, anyway? it looks so... boring. you’ll have so much more fun doing masks with me." you queried, wiggling yourself next to him to see his screen. "yeah, this cannot possibly be fun at all," you added.

watching as he’d been fixated on his phone, he let out a quick mutter, "you raid people’s stuff. it’s actually really fun," he replied.

you scanned the game for a few more seconds before letting out a dramatic huff, turning to the side, and prated, "hmph, why does my dear boyfriend, whom i love so much, hate me?" you flung your hand to your head, imitating some sort of terrible monologue.

his head tossed over to where you’d been hurling. "what? i never said that. that’s nonsense," he retorted in defiance.

you shook your head, "that’s what you’re implying, though."

"how?" he sneered, unimpressed by your exaggeration.

"because, you don’t want to spend time with me, so what can that mean other than that you hate me?" you responded, turning back over to him.

"that’s not true. i actually love you, very much," he replied, "plus, are we not spending time together right now?" 

"i mean, yeah, but doing this would be so much more fun. and memorable," you jabbed. "plus we can run a bath or make cookies or something," you cooed, clasping your hands together.

he sighed, placing his now shut off phone next to him, "i don’t want to get out of bed, though."

you stared in disapproval at his uncooperativeness before hunching over to his side of the bed, "you’re actually so lazy." pulling onto his lengthy arm, you did your utmost to try getting him out of his aloof position. him being so heavy obviously outweighed this attempt.

"jude, just get up," you whined, ceasing your efforts. a small moment of silence followed as you eyed him dozing off at the ceiling.

"fine," he gave in, departing from the bed. you let out a small cheer after all of your hard work and dedication.

scurrying to your bathroom, you quickly scanned through the cabinets for the appropriate supplies: cleanser, serum, clay masks, moustrizer… because you weren’t just doing face masks. of course, it'd only be right to do an entire routine, of course, even though he didn’t deserve it after all that tedious convincing.

"are you making it or something? why is there so much stuff?" he inquired, head tilting.

"uhh, yeah…" you drawled, trying not to suggest anything that’ll make him turn away. "wait, let me grab something for you." you dashed to your vanity, grabbing your hello kitty headband and concealing it behind your back.

"oh no, what is it," he cried. 

"shh, just close your eyes," you instructed, snickering while fetching the scrunched headband over his head. instinctively, his eyes fluttered open, mouth dropping. "y/n, take this off. i look so dumb," his mouth agape while skimming himself in the mirror. 

you chuckled away as you tried to snap a picture. "you look like such a pretty princess."

he shot you a glare before shaking his head, "please, take this off."

"no, no, it’s fine, it’ll be quick," you snorted, still trying to relive his reaction, "c’mon, let me wash your face."

you turned the tap on, pumping your favorite cleanser into your hands before rubbing them together, creating a soapy mixture when mixed with water.

"turn toward me," you commanded, rubbing your hands on his face in a circular motion, but obviously struggling a bit because of the height difference. 

"you’re so damn tall," you murmured as he sneered, "not my fault you’re so short." he teased as his arms cradled your waist. 

"okay, rinse your face now," he nodded, turning toward the sink. you quickly reached for the cleanser, repeating your previous actions.

after cleansing both of your faces, you grabbed your favorite clay mask, twisting the cap before turning to your boyfriend beside you. with a brush, you dipped into the container before painting his face, leaving it a shade of teal.

"i look so ridiculous right now," he stifled a laugh as you covered his forehead in the paste.

"ridiculously cute," you prompted, teasing him.

he chuckled before flinging himself inches from your face, "oh yeah?" his taunting immediately made you laugh before he pecked his lips against your cheek, leaving bits of blue residue on your face. you pulled away, giggling.

"stop, i was just kidding." you cocked your head to the side, "i meant to say ridiculously ugly," you mumbled.

"hm?" he chirped. "nothing," you said, clearing your throat before turning back to apply your mask after being distracted. he rolled his eyes as he watched you run the paste onto your face, as well.

after covering the last piece of skin, you finally placed the container on the counter before muttering, "20 minutes, okay?" earning a nod from him. "let me take a cute picture, though." you grabbed your phone, opening the photos app, and snapped away. his poses did not disappoint, though he seemed to be annoyed just 10 minutes prior, he’d been throwing up peace signs, winks, and duck lips. you found yourself surprised at the sudden interest, but you realized great minds think alike (skincare & selfies>his dumb mobile game).

"ooh!" you suddenly blurted. "let’s make tiktoks while they set." you smirked. he sighed, but ultimately knew there was no way out of this.

an: gamer bf skincare gf trope 😜 expect more ffs soon i'm gna make it a goal to stop slacking + tysm for all the love on my last post ❥