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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

-> skin | aurelién tchouameni |

genre: smut + no plot | minors dni 18+ only

warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex, possessive tendencies, choking

baby strip down for me, go on take 'em off, don’t worry baby, i’mma meet you half way, cause I know you wanna see me

You were only two steps inside his foyer before his hand found the back of your neck as his lips met yours. Without a doubt, you loved coming home to Aurelien. You fell to pieces under his touch. You were always left wanting more of him and his recent time away from home was the longest week of your life. You had never been so obsessed with a man, let alone a man was equally obsessed with you.

Aurelien walked you backwards and your back hit the closed front door with a soft thud, his mouth trailing down your neck to your cleavage. You arched your back, opening yourself up to his touch - a silent indicator that you wanted him to explore you more.

“Aurelien,” You breathed out as he began sucking the top of your breast.

“Yes, bebe?” He muttered against your skin before continuing his exploration of your chest with his tongue. [baby]

“God I’ve been waiting all night for this - ugh, these heels.” You moaned and complained simultaneously.

Aurelien pulled away from your body and crouched down to pull the strappy designer heels off each foot, tossing them to the side while you reveled in the relief of being barefoot. His back muscles were illuminated under the warm light of the foyer. You could hear his TV in the background and you wondered if he had been waiting for you despite how tired he must have been from traveling. It was easily nearing midnight and though that wasn’t late for many people, it was late for Aurelien. He pulled you away from the door, picking you up and over his shoulder as if you were light as a feather. His hand gripped your thigh, his fingertips mere inches from to your core. You didn’t protest as he carried you into the living and set you down on the couch.

“This dress is too small.” Aurelien said as he hovered over you, thumbing the hem of the dress. It was very slutty and that meant you spent most of your night holding it in place. You had a feeling that he would love the dress and you knew it was driving him crazy because he wasn’t able to be attached to you all night. Usually, Aurelien would have loved to be there with you and have his hands on you, showing you off, but his travel schedule messed up your plans.

Instead of being there, he had to watch your social media stories to get glimpses of you. You texted him all night about nothing at all - just tipsy commentary about your evening until you hit the wall of drunkenness. You were practically begging him to fuck you in any way that he wanted. Aurelien loved it.

“By who’s standards ?” You asked with a tilt of your head, knowing that you chose the dress that he would end up taking it off of you. Rarely did Aurelien see you dressed up and you were glad you chose a skimpier option because his eyes were devouring every bit of your exposed skin.

“Mine,” He teased and focused his attention back on your cleavage, placing the most delicate kisses on your skin, “It’s been too long.” He said about the time you spent apart.

Aurelien loved the idea of you being approached by another man because he knew no one was ever going to measure up to him. He loved knowing that his touch was the only one you craved and he especially loved that you wore such a tiny dress, accentuating your ass in the most mouth watering way just for him. Aurelien loved that you thought of him just as much as a he thought about you and he especially loved being able to fuck you or make love to you to prove it.

“Patience is a virtue.” You joked as he bit your skin. You moved to pull off your thong, tossing it to the side to make yourself readily available. If someone would have told you that a blind date would lead to you being with a footballer who worshiped the ground you walked on you would have laughed. The kind of man didn’t exist - until you met Aurelien.

“You know I’d wait forever for you.” He asked as he began to push your dress up to your abdomen.

“I don’t want to wait, I need you inside of me.”You whispered as he slid his finger inside of you. It was as if the one piece of you that only Aurelien could touch suddenly burst into flames, taking over your every nerve. You could hear the wetness of yourself as he pulled his finger and in and out of you, his mouth capturing your own. You moaned into him and he sped up the pace, his strength making your whole body move against his hand.

The first night you hooked up with Aurelien was in the driver's seat of his luxury SUV because you simply couldn’t wait to get home. When you desperately crawled onto his lap in some random, empty, parking lot you were met with the same energy from Aurelien. He held your panties to the side with one hand to keep it out of his way while he pumped multiple fingers in and out of you. You were too stunned to even kiss him, unable to fathom that this was what your blind date had come to. You weren’t sure if you felt embarrassed or empowered - but with time, you recognized that it was sexual freedom from being treated as a princess.. Your gasps were so strong and his mouth was so close to yours while strings of French rolled off his tongue. It was only after you came all over his jeans that you decided he was going to come home with you. If it was for just a night, you would be satisfied. But you were lucky and completely enamored by the fact he wasn’t settling for just a hookup. He wanted you all to himself, all the time.

When he pulled his hands out of you, you got off the couch. Aurelien took your dress off before he started working on sliding off his own clothes. The second his clothes hit the floor you pushed him onto the couch and straddled him. He pulled you close with one arm, groaning as he reached for his dick to rub the tip across your drenched entrance. Once you slowly moved downward on his dick it was game over. You were a mess. Your moans were in cadence with his thrusts and you couldn’t help but tell him how big he felt. You were dizzy with desire and drunk from all the shots you took but you were certain that this was the best sex of your life.

Aurelien grabbed your hips as he thrusted deeply into you, hitting your g-spot with the curve of his dick in the process. You placed your hands on the back of the couch a, gripping it tightly to keep control of yourself. It hurt in the best way. Aurelien’s hand broke free and wrapped around your throat forcing you to tilt your head backwards and arch your back. His hands were large, warm, and sickeningly tight around your throat. Aurelien slowed down and took a breath, admiring how your wetness was all over his dick and thighs. You took the opportunity to grind on him, taking him even deeper inside yourself. He was touching your cervix and you were loving every minute of it.

“Putain.” Aurelien dropped his hand and collapsed into the cushions, his eyes focused on your body as you took control and continued to ride him. You placed your hands on his abdomen to steady yourself and keep your pace, moaning out his praises. [fucking hell]

“You’re so pretty riding me, bebe.” He commented with a lustful gaze. You bit your lip at his expression then tossed your hair to the side and began kissing his neck. You rhythm never faltered and you trailed the sloppiest kisses against his neck - sucking, nibbling, and using your tongue to hit those sweet spots. [baby]

“I missed you, I missed your dick.” You mumbled into his neck and he gripped your ass in response. His grip made you switch from a slow whine on his dick to slowly bouncing on him. .

“Trust me, it missed you too…couldn’t stop thinking of you on the road.” He admitted. You loved how shameless he was about you.

“God, call me next time so I can see how much you miss me.” The idea of him jacking off to you and your voice was mouth watering. The urge to taste him overwhelmed your senses and washed away any coherent sentence you were going to form so you leaned in to kiss him again and Aurelien’s lips were full, soft, and perfect against your own.

“Won’t need to call because you’ll be with me.” He said casually and moved to sit upright. Aurelien stood up,moved from the couch and tugged you to the middle of the floor. He laid you on the plush carpet in his living room, using his tongue to lick from your navel and up to your ear.

“What do you mean?” You asked him and his eyes snapped up to yours mischievously.

“The next match.” Aurelien slid himself inside you again and you gasped at the sudden fullness you felt. His face hovered a few inches above yours and you bit your lip to keep from screaming out. “I got you tickets.” He managed to say as he fucked you.

“Really?” You gasped as the pressure of him inside of you created a prickly feeling throughout your body. You could feel your orgasm building in your chest and you begged him to not stop - to keep going and never, ever stop.

“Fuck, Aurelien.” You inhaled and prepared for the delicious delirium coursing through your body. You grabbed ahold of his biceps as he fucked you in a desperate pace. Your body was falling apart under him and he was trying to hold himself together.

“Fuuuuck.” Aurelien groaned as his climax started. You could feel yourself nearing your own climax and you urged him to be more vocal. “You look so pretty taking all of me.” He praised you and heat flushed your cheeks. He watched himself moving in and out of you, admiring how you were dripping wet around him.

“Give me more Aurelien, don’t stop.” You urged. Aurelien propped himself on his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his abdomen and your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“I’m going to cum,” He said huskily by your ear. You could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to control himself - to keep himself from coming. You were so enthralled by him that you spoke without thinking.

“Don’t pull out.” You begged, your voice gradually turned from a moan into a whimper of pure bliss. Your words activated a deep sense of possessiveness in Aurelien and in his need to please you, all of his rational thoughts disappeared. He buried himself as deep as he possibly could and released himself into you, feeling the twitch of his dick inside you. You moved your arms down from his shoulders to around his rib cage, wanting him to stay inside of you while your own climax hit you.

“Merde.” Aurelien exclaimed as your back arched off the floor as you began to ride the wave of your orgasm. Your eyes squeezed close as your legs shook from the pleasure. [shit]

“Aurel, baby,” You exclaimed, trying to keep your voice low.

“Let it out,” He directed, “Scream for me.”

Your scream drowned out the television and your vision became blinded by the light of pleasure that flooded your body. You panted and let go of Aurelien, relaxing onthe carpet. You tried to calm your breathing but it was nearly impossible to do after such an insane orgasm. You could reason with yourself that it was because of the alcohol in your system but you and Aurelien knew it was because of him. Your closed your eyes and took a deep breath as you fell victim to the drop of adrenaline.

As Aurelien pulled out of you and examined himself, he was shocked to see how much you came all over him. Pride swelled in his chest as he looked at you, sprawled on the floor in front of him, attempting to catch your breath. You gazed at him with hazy eyes and a small smile stretched across your face.

Aurelien leaned back down into you, sliding his tongue into your mouth for a passionate kiss. Every kiss with him felt like he was soaking you in for the last time. His hands trailed down your sides and it sent goosebumps across your skin. He pulled away and stood before reaching out his hand to help you up. You were unsteady on your feet but you made it to the couch and sat down. Aurelien left and came back with a wet towel for you to clean up and an old t-shirt of his for you to put on.

“You got me tickets?” You said and stood to slide the shirt over your head and tugged it down to cover yourself.

“Mhm.” He said huskily as he pulled up his sweats. The sweats sat low on his hips and you were tempted to go for another round with the way his dick was accentuated by the fabric. You stood up on your toes to kiss him and he gladly welcomed you.

“Where will I stay?” You asked.

“With me.” Aurelien answered.

“What am I supposed to do with the rest of my time?”

“You can do what you want, you can shop.” He shrugged.

“Mmm, I’m a saver not a spender.” You admitted.

“Who said you would be spending your own money?” Aurelien asked and your mouth dropped open slightly. You weren’t sure what to say.

“You’re spoiling me.” You teased and you were met with a head shake.

“You haven’t seen spoiled yet,” He grinned, “Just wait.”

-> never lose me | jude bellingham | gossip & posts

requested | jude b. x alexander-arnold!fem!reader

genre: tabloids & social media posts about tatum

authors note: this is a prelude to a requested fic

summary: the last time jude saw you was at the monaco f1 grand prix nearly a year ago. you left to study abroad but now that you’re back for summer break looking like a whole new woman, jude is infatuated by your presence and your possible relationship with charles leclerc, one of the most famous formula one driver.

-> the gossip

Spotted 👀

“Sometimes you gotta pop out and show 🫢” Tatum Alexander Arnold spotted at the Monaco Grand Prix. Sources say she was in the Ferrari garage while her big brother, Trent, was at Alpine - which he has ownership in. Tatum has been keeping it lowkey these days but…it’s 7pm Friday it’s 95 degrees! We need to see her pop off!

“Is your sister dating someone?” Jude asked Trent. Jude was shamelessly trying to find out what you’ve been up to. Last time he saw you, he realized that you were into him and even though he was kind of dating someone, he liked you too.

“I dunno. Haven’t talked to her in a while.” Trent shrugged and took a few seconds to think over that very specific question from his friend. The two of them were sitting outside after a long day of media obligations for the Euros. Jude was quiet up until that question. Trent was thoroughly enjoying his peace but he couldn’t help but notice that Jude’s face was so close to his phone as if he was studying whatever was on the screen.

“I thought she’s in school.” Jude played nonchalant even though he absolutely cared.

“She is but why do you ask?” Trent narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Jude placed his phone on the table and slid it over to his best friend to have a look at what was being reported.

Spotted👀

Tatum Alexander Arnold is in the streets y’all! Little miss lowkey has been spotted by fans leaving dinner with Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. If you don’t know, he drives for Scuderia Ferrari and recently signed a multi million contract for another two years with the most iconic team in the racing world. Tatum is in college studying Art History and apparently Tatum spent three months in Monaco working and interning at a local museum where Charles lives during the off season. Do we have a new WAG coming this season? Let us know in the comments below.

“She’s not really a dating kind of girl,” Trent shrugged and slid the phone back over to Jude. Jude’s eyes scanned the photos once more and then locked his phone.

“Is she going to be on holiday with us?” Jude asked.

“Yeahhhh…” Trent strung the answer out and waited for Jude to elaborate on his questions but didn’t, so Trent let it go.

Jude didn’t let it go. He stayed up all night, scouring your instagram trying to find out who and what you were doing. Now that you didn’t want him, he wanted you. He remembered that kiss the two of you shared on the last holiday when you two were drunk on a balcony while the rest of the house, including the girl he brought with him, were fast asleep. After that kiss, you went radio silent. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by your certain reappearance on social media. When you left to study abroad it seemed like you left the old you behind because as Jude studied your Instagram, it was clear that you were not the same girl from before. You were a woman.

——

-> the posts by tatum alexander arnold

liked by judebellingham and 346,700 others

tatumsdiary: made memories and love in monaco

bestfriend: see how you didn't take those girls men? very mindful very respectful & demure

friend: need you at every grand prix for the rest of the season pls pls pls

charlesleclerc:🌹

lewishamiltongf: this dress this bag i adore it

liverpoolwagl: 🔛🔝

liverpoolwag2: how are you even prettier than the last time i saw you?

footballplayer: 🥵

tatumfan: tatum girl are gou in your social media era??? we’ve been starved

tatums: pushing that charles agenda mhm mhm

tatums: i used to pray for times like this to shine like this

liked by joeburrow and 332,000 others

tatumsdiary: what did raye say about being 22 in paris?

guyfriend: i've always wanted to be a stay at home husband

friend: something about tits i think

tatumsdiary replied: only thing i heard was Prada

guyfriend: wife

footballer: smh folks can't even say hi anymore

tatumsdiary replied: hi papi

trentxfan: you might just be my favorite person i fear

fanuser: this family don't miss, we cannot beat these mfs

——

-> the posts by tatum alexander arnold

liked by charlesleclerc and 259,500 others

tatumsdiary: spread the word! tell a friend to tell a friend

guyfriend: stop trying to make matcha happened

friend: most fun weekend in NYC i love you

footballer: 😍

nflguy: best pizza in the city

tatumsdiary replied: it actually was but i can’t give you too much credit

charlesleclerc: ☹️ shame

tatumsdiary replied: i’ll do better maybe possibly idk

——

-> the gossip

Spotted 👀

Looks like Charles had a travel companion while he was in Vegas. Who do with think it is? Could it be the one and only, Little Miss Lowkey, Tatum Alexander Arnold? You know what they say: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas - but wdgaf about that. We wanna know what’s these two are up to. Couple of the Year, hand it to them IMMEDIATELY.

-> the posts by tatum alexander arnold

like by judebellingham charlesleclerc and 345,000 others

tatumsdiary: ask me my favorite color 🧸

bestfriend: mmmmm purple!

tatumfan: this is the crossover we deserve

charlesfan: is this a lil soft launch???

friend1: 🏎️

f1fan: imagine your brother in law being trent alexander arnold 😏

charlesfan2 replied: would kill to be a fly on the wall on thanksgiving

formulaonegirly: oh she’s so cute & totally dating charles

alexalbon: 👎🏽

tatumsdiary replied: ynwa

alexalbon replied: i’d rather walk alone

trentalexanderarnold: ❤️

tatumsdiary replied: proud of you!

——

As Jude laid in bed doom-scrolling through your social media and the gossip pages, he couldn’t fight the urge to click on your profile photo that indicated you had posted a story. His finger hovered and then he finally clicked on it and immediately wished he didn’t. It hurt to see you happy. He thought that kiss would keep you close, would keep you chasing him but as he held his finger down on the photo of Charles, that clearly wasn’t the case. If he didn’t let his feelings be known on the upcoming trip, regardless of your relationship status, he would regret it.

→ stuck like glue I jules kounde

requested I jules k. x wife!mom!reader

genre: fluff

summary: emile never wanted to leave his dad's side. he wanted to be in jules’ arms or have him in his sight at all times but everything changes when jules comes home from an away match and baby emile refuses to leave his mama's arms & is suddenly over protective of her, too.

“Emile, daddy’s going to be back.” You said to your son who was emotional over his dad even leaving his sight.

Emile was in a fit of tears, his little lip quivering as Jules dared to step away. Jules desperately needed to get a shower and change. He was exhausted and hadn’t rested well the night before because of Emile’s clinging demeanor. Jules couldn’t hide the small smile at his baby boy needing him. It made him feel loved but once he looked up at your nearly tear filled eyes, he stepped in and grabbed him. You sighed at the loss of the weight and tried to remain calm. Emile had been so testy lately and you were at your wits end. Emile was the sweetest and most calm baby until he hit his two year old bench mark. Now, he was a menace if he wasn’t in his daddy’s arms. Which would be fine in a normal situation, where your husband had a simple 9-5 job. But your marriage and your husband’s career was far from normal.

“I’ll be quick and make sure he’s in my sight.” Jules said and placed a kiss to your temple.

“Okay.” You sighed again and let your tense shoulders drop. “Take your time, I’ll be here with the other girls.” You tipped your head to the other WAGs.

The entire time you sat waiting, you wondered why you felt so tired and so hungry. You were snacking the entire match and you were well rested because you napped before coming, which was out of the usual, but you still felt tired.

You loved chatting with the girls but you loved seeing Jules carrying Emile, ready to leave much more. Nothing sounded better than a shower, leftover pasta, and bit of Love Island before bed. You met them with a smile but made no effort to try and grab your son. He clearly cried while he was away, his eyes puffy and still watering. He held his hand in his mouth and when he saw you coming, he buried his face in the crevice between Jules’ arm and chest. Jules handed you the keys to drive so that he could focus his attention on Emile.

——

Once Emile was finally down for bed, Jules shuffled into the room and took a deep breath. You sat on your knees on the bed and wrapped your arms around him - soaking up the warmth of his shirtless skin. Jules let go to head to the bathroom and do his skin care routine, which you crafted, and you followed. You sat on the counter as he talked to you about his new coach and how things had been. This would be their first trip on the road and he wasn’t certain how it would go.

“And I feel bad,” He said gripping the counter. You tilted your head to look at him, confused by the statement. “Emile has been fussy and you look tired.”

“Oh…” you said unsure of what you were meant to say in response. You were tired and Emile had been fussy but that doesn’t mean you want your husband to say it to your face - it felt odd. Like it almost was an insult but you knew he didn’t mean it that way.

“I don’t want you to be here alone and be stressed.”

“Emile is fine, dramatic…but fine. When you leave he’s all over me and it’s like you never existed.”

“Ouch,” Jules frowned but smiled knowing that Emile wasn’t going to be difficult for you. “I can’t lie, I love seeing him be like that sometimes.”

“I know,” you giggled, “you love to be wanted.”

“Especially by you.” He moved in between your legs and you spread them for him to have more access to you. You made no hesitation and grabbed your husband’s neck and pulled him into you. There was never any loss of attraction in your marriage - it just shifted. The lust for sex turned in a yearn for him when he was gone and turned into making love once he was finally back. You’d grown used to him coming and going but you were also used to the intentional time he spent with you so that there wasn’t any time for you to ever feel forgotten.

Jules’ mouth on yours was heavy and slow. Kissing him was the best part of your day and it was probably childish but it felt so sweet. You weren’t surprised by him taking your body off the counter and walking you over to the bed, his mouth moving down your neck, his hands moving to removed the silk robe you had on. To his surprise, there was nothing on underneath. His laugh echoed in the quiet bedroom and you slapped your hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

“Sorry.” He mumbled against your hand. Emile was a hit or miss when it came to waking up from noise. The two of you aired on the safer side of being quiet whenever you had sex. “Did you miss me?” He teased once you finally removed you hand.

“Always.” You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him untie the robe slowly.

“We were apart for like, six hours?” Jules laughed quietly.

“That’s a long time for a girl who wants to fuck her husband.” You said with a bit of sass but ultimately serious. Recently, you couldn’t get enough of Jules - no matter how much sex you had, you were never satiated by it. It didn’t help that you got to watch him sweat, run, and body other players while drinking glasses of wine from the comfort of the reserved section of the stadium. It was similar of someone dangling a carrot in front of a horse.

“You can’t say stuff like that.” Jules groaned and slid his hands up your abdomen and between your breasts, his hand finding a spot around your neck. You flopped back down on the bed, letting him experience every part of you. His face hovered over yours and you asked him why. “Because I’ll be inside you all night and you might end up pregnant.” He placed warms kisses on your neck and clavicle. You laughed at the statement.

“I’m on birth control, that ain’t happening.”

——

You awoke to the sound of Emile crying his heart out and you were disoriented, usually at this time he would still be in bed. The sounds of his cries grew louder, closer and you heard the door open. Jules was trying to calm Emile down but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t until Jules was standing over you that you realized he was asking for you. Emile was muttering mama over and over as he reached out to you.

“Hi baby,” you comforted him as Jules placed him in your arms. You laid back down and Emile settled himself on you, cuddling you tightly. Jules placed a kiss on your forehead and let you know he was going to finish making breakfast for you before he left for work.

You attempted to let go of Emile to get your morning started but he was having none of it. You told him to stay and sleep, reassuring him you would only be in the bathroom but that was not enough for him. He held onto your leg and made it wet from his teary face. You spoke to him with a calm tone, hoping to ease the situation and not send him into another fit of tears. You gave up on changing clothes and opted to stay in your pajamas to avoid another screaming fit from Emile.

He was happy as ever being carried down the steps by you and was giggling the whole way down though his eyes were still damp but tears. You sat on the barstool at the kitchen counter with Emile on your lap. He smacked the counter and wiggled his little legs and you were stunned from the emotional whiplash he was experiencing.

“Uh, what are you cooking?” You placed your hand under your nose to mask the smell. Jules turned around with the pan in one hand, the spatula in the other. The frown on his face was an immediate reminder of who’s pouty lips Emile inherited.

“Eggs?” Jules glanced at the pan without hesitation and back up to you. “What’s wrong with that?”

“They smell awful. Are they expired?” You gave up on trying to breathe through your nose and instead just took air in and out of your mouth.

“Eggs don’t expire.”

“They have to, there’s no way.” You shook your head. The smell was a mixture of rotten trash, soured dishes and something else you couldn’t place.

“But they don’t.”

“Google it.”

“You google it.”

“I don’t have my phone.”

The only noise for a few moments was Emile and the searing sound from the stove top. Jules eyes widened then narrowed at his phone.

“They do but…we just got these there’s no way.” He concluded. He went back to the stove to keep on cooking you willed your spirit to think of anything other than the rancid smell filling the kitchen. It took all your energy to get through the cooking and as soon as Jules was finished, he reached for Emile.

“No!” Emile whispered and wrangled his way into hiding his face and your neck.

“Ah, Emile, let maman be.” Jules said.

“No!” Emile said a bit louder into your neck which made you laugh. Jules mouth opened and he dropped his hands down in disbelief. “My maman.”

“That’s my maman, too.” Jules argued childishly.

“No that’s mine.” Emile turned to peek at his dad sbc when he got a glimpse of Jules still standing, he whipped his head around and sighed, as if Jules was a nuisance to him.

“Okay, fine.” Jules surrendered. “Are you going to be okay?” He asked you.

“Mhm. He’s probably just having one of those days.” You reassured you husband. Jules smiled at you softly and leaned in to kiss you but as if Emile could sense him, he whipped his head up and threw his hand out.

“Oh mon dieu.” Jules groaned, retreating from his spot next to you and went upstairs.

——

One of those days, turned into a week, then two and you were certain that you were losing your mind. You weren’t feeling the best and with Emile practically attached to you as if he was in the womb, you had no time to breathe.

Simply standing in the tunnel waiting for Jules became a game of “will E or won’t E bawl his eyes out if I set him down?” Luckily, for just a few moments, he was out of your arms and on the ground even though his arms were wrapped around your calf. A small win was still a win. You were exhausted and you could not get to the bottom of Emile’s sudden clinginess.

“Oh precious,” an older woman who you were familiar with walked up, leaned down to pinch Emile’s cheeks softly. His amused giggles were truly music to your ears and she seemed very pleased with making him smile. “How are you?” She asked, her accent thick with each word.

“Tired.” You replied with a weak smile. You opened your palm towards your baby boy who was content gripping and releasing your pants leg. It was the most calm he’d been in a while.

She smiled in a way that was so endearingly maternal and sweet that you nearly her to teach you how the hell to get through this. She clasped her hands together in sympathy, smacking her tongue against her teeth.

“Too young to be so tired.” She said with a laugh. Her eyes went down to Emile then back up to your face but not before she took a long look at your abdomen and hips. It wasn’t in an odd way but with a sense of discernment. Just as you were about to ask her to elaborate, Emile broke free from you and happily took to waking aimlessly.

“You’re like a fairy godmother…he hasn’t left me alone for more than five minutes.” You chuckled. Emile skipped and hopped before he bent over, looking up at you through his straddled legs. His eyes were bright, his giggles loud. You watched him with genuine confusion about his sudden independence and the odd way he was moving.

“Oh,” she said with a giggle. “Ah. Kids know, you know?” She smiled.

“Know what?” You tore your gaze away from Emile to look at her. With her facial expression unchanging you looked back at Emile and asked, “Know what?”

“Just a little wives tale…” She trailed off but before she continued on the men started to pour out of the hallway, emerging showered and ready to go home. She kissed you goodbye and waved to Emile who was now promptly back in his favorite place: next to you.

“Hey.” You said to your son and he looked up at you with the most adorable eyes - he was a spitting image of his father. “What is it you know?” You asked as if he was going to miraculously tell you genius information. You sighed and patiently waited for your husband to walk out the door.

——

“Oh…” you said lowly. You blinked slowly at the bathroom counter, refusing to move. Two pink lines reflected on the stick as clear as a full moon.

After Jules fell asleep and Emile, for once, was in his bed, you spent an ungodly amount of time tossing and turning before you gave up and played on your phone. You couldn’t stop thinking about what she said earlier about kids “knowing” and you ended up deep in a subreddit about old wives tales and traditional folklores. It hit you instantly.

“Older generations believed that kids tend to look through their legs while upside down when their mom is expecting or when they are looking for a sibling.”

“What the fuck?!” You whisper shouted and grabbed the test, staring at it as if it would change in your hands. You covered your mouth with one hand, screaming quietly as if truly dawned on you.

You were pregnant.

Again.

The hunger, the restless energy, the smells.

All of it. It was there and Emile knew.

You knew that it wasn’t scientifically possible for him to know, you felt that he truly did. He was latched onto you and so overwhelming because he sensed a different in his mom because he was the one who used to be there - he knew all of you. The thought of Emile’s growth and how he was soon to be a brother, tears welled up in your eyes. You sobbed quietly. First of surprise and then out of joy. The two other test results finally settled, they were all in agreement: pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.

“Why are you up?” Jules asked, slowly cracking the door open. He rubbed his eyes in confusion and walked in with heavy feet. “Are you sick?” He touched your forehead with his palm as if your were a kid and it made you laugh. “Are you crying? Why’re you crying?” He opened his eyes and scanned you for an injury.

“Look.”

“What am I looking at it? It’s 2 in the morning.” He said and turned in a circled, trying to find the culprit behind your emotional distress.

“Jules, look.” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him square to the counter to look at the other two test and then presented the one in your grip in front of him with shaky hands. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh…” Jules said, his voice cracking. His chest was rising and falling at an increased pace and he leaned in close to see the results.

“Babe…I’m pregnant.”

Jules gasped and crushed you in a hug before immediately apologizing. His hands fell to your bloated stomach - which you knew now not to be a consequence of your eating habits. He was as stunned, if not more than you. Jules held you in his arms gently this time and pressed kisses on your head. You continued to cry, unable to fathom the change that was coming.

You were so excited about the baby considering the birth control you were so adamant about getting on. Now you knew that it truly only worked 99.9% of the time.

——

“Say good morning.” Jules said gently and quietly, placing Emile onto the bed. Emile whispered a little good morning in French before he climbed onto you. He sprawled onto you, his legs dangling on either side of your waist with his head on your chest. You couldn’t believe this was your life.

Jules smiled at you knowingly and leaned in to give you a good morning kiss but Emile wasn’t having any of it. His voice wasn’t loud but it was aggressive and it sent you into a fit of laughter.

“No, papa!”

-> funny seeing you here | aurelien t. | part one

aurelien t. x black!fem!reader

genre: flirty, second chance romance, warnings: noncommittal relationship, liquor, eventual smut 18+ minors dni

summary: aurelien had never forgotten you and when he saw you, he made sure to keep an eye on your for the few days you were there. you? you wanted to figure what the fuck you were feeling for him while enjoying yourself. but isn’t funny how you keep running into him? cause he thinks it is.

“C'est un putain d'arbitre ridicule, c'était une faute !!” Kim yelled at the referee as he passed by, running to the other side of the basketball court. Kim was never a sit tight and be pretty WAG. She was gorgeous and really loved European basketball. When she met her boyfriend, it only tripled. You pitied any player, referee, or innocent bystander who wound up too close to her while she was yelling.

Kim was more passionate than the coaches considering the way she stomped her feet against the hardwood and screamed at the team to pass the ball to her wide open boyfriend. She could read the game well and it was amusing to sit next to her [That’s fucking ridiculous referee, it was a foul.]

Kim collapsed in her chair dramatically then turned to you for agreement. You didn’t know or even care too much about basketball but it was nice sitting damn near the courtside with unlimited drinks. You enjoyed the vibes and agreed whenever Kim criticized anyone. Her voice was the only one that was logical in her brain and it made for very amusing commentary.

“Must be new, Kimmy.” You said with a shrug, taking your tiny straw into your mouth. The delicious flavor of a lemon drop cocktail was the best part about being at the game. It tasted alcohol free, making it really easy to drink more than you could anticipate. But so far, you felt loose and relaxed. You were only going to be in Madrid for a few days and you knew that one of those days would be spent at a game so you made sure to look your best. You were in your single-but-dating era and you loved the opportunity to meet new men. Even if they weren’t your type, it was nice to have new friends of different varieties. The only type of guys you were truly skeptical of were footballers - due to one and only experience with Aurelien. He didn’t ruin his chances but he didn’t help them either.

“He must need lasik surgery with how blind he’s been acting all night.” She huffed.

She took a sip of her own drink and then abruptly stood again, cheering loudly as her boyfriend got the turnover and pulled up for a 3 point shot and scored. The crowd erupted in applause at his performance and how he just tipped the victory towards the home team.

It was early on in the game when you spotted Aurelien walking in, surrounded by security. The fans immediately started screaming out his name alongside Bellingham’s and Camavinga’s. He waved at them and sat on one of the courtside seats. He was across the court and to the left of you meaning you didn’t have to make much effort to see him and you wondered if he could see you too.

“Half-time is soon, do you want to come with me to say hi to a few people in the suites?” Kim asked but you declined, opting to stay seated and watch the halftime performances and little competitions between fans.

You weren’t familiar with any of the other WAGs and you didn’t have much to contribute to their conversations. It was better to sit alone for a while and enjoy the festivities.

You pulled out your phone to take a photo of your courtside experience: your flawless acrylic set wrapped around your drink and a small view of the court. You tagged the team and the city before getting up to freshen up in the ladies room. Thankfully, with your seats, you had access to a newer bathroom instead of having to wait for the line to open up at the public bathroom near the concession counters.

You knew that he was going to see the post so you weren’t surprised to see his name pop up on your phone.

A.T: wyd here

Y: minding my business

A.T: 😒

A.T: when did you get here?

Y: i’ve been here

You didn’t have much else to say. Truthfully you hadn’t decided if you wanted to see him. Not for lack of chemistry or being attracted to him but because you were unsure of what would happen if you gave yourself up to him. The first time you opened up to him about what you wanted, he said that wasn’t what he was looking for - which was fine. But you had a feeling he was used to girls begging him to act right and to do more. When you didn’t beg he suddenly was more adamant about his feelings for you and not walking away without a fight. He was a very sweet man but he was also right that at the time, there was no need to be settled down. You respected that and went on your way despite the disappointment you felt initially.

By the time you made it back to your seat, about a dozen people replied to your story asking you to go out or meet them for dinner before you left. You were so focused on your phone and responding to everyone, you didn’t notice that Aurelian was walking towards you. He was making it look very casual because so many eyes were on him. He stopped twice for a photo for the team’s photographer and a little boy who happened to be wearing an Aureliens jersey.

When he was a few steps away you met him where he stood and gave him a polite side hug. His smile was heart-warming. As gorgeous as he was, he was also so cute to you. You’d never met a guy who was as stunning yet adorable as Aurelien.

“So you were going to sneak into my city and not say hi?” He teased with a head tilt.

You could hear shouts of fans behind you, asking for an autograph or a photograph. You wanted to keep this conversation short and sweet because you had no desire of being spotted with him and ending up all over social media.

You were a lowkey girl - Aurelien said he liked that about you once before and that hadn’t changed. If anyone wanted updates on you they wouldn’t be able to figure it out via social media, they had to talk to you directly and that’s what you preferred. There was no room for gossip to occur but as you stood there looking at Aurelien, you feared it was going to be too late.

“Hi, Aure.” You giggled and his smile grew wider. He took a moment to take all of you in, from your head to your feet then back up to your face again.

“You’re so pretty, you know what?”

“I’ve been told once or twice,” you shrugged. “How are you?”

“Better now that I know you’re here.” He said smoothly earning a dramatic eye roll from you. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“Not that I know of, I’m staying with Kimmy for the weekend. She may want to go out. Why?”

“Come to the match.” Aurelien said. His eyes flicked behind you to signal to a few boys calling his name to give a few more minutes.

“I don’t know, I’m not a simple fan. I like the finer things, as you can see.” You said motioning towards the luxurious section that you and Kim sat in. Aurelien looked at you and puffed out his cheeks as if he was in disbelief.

“You think I’m going to let you sit wherever?” He laughed in a cocky manner.

“I don’t know what to think Aurelien,” you said honestly. “You never asked me to a match before.”

“That’s going to change. I’ll leave tickets for you under your name.”

“That’s sweet of you but what if I wanted to say no?” You teased him.

“How many tickets? Two, three?” He ignored your comment to confirm that he was going to get enough for you.

“Three is fine,” you turned to look at the fans who seemed to be growing louder with each passing minute. Their window of opportunity was closing and the last thing you wanted was to stop someone from meeting their favorite player. “Go, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t forget about me.” He said sidestepping you and walking towards the fans leaning over the stadium seats barrier.

“I’ll try not to.”

————

Kim and her boyfriend, Jalen, happily tagged along with you to the game. Aurelien bought upper deck seating that had its own private lounge and came with hors d’oeuvres. Kim was eating up the view and Jalen looked like a kid in a candy store. In the time he was dating Kim you came to learn that no one was more of a fanboy than other professional athletes.

Jalen was eager to meet some of the players and it worked out well because it looked as if you were a guest of Jalen’s and not the other way around. You watched Aurelien and Jalen meet one another then pose for a few photos. You couldn’t help but stare at Aurelien as he took off his jersey, signed it then gave it to Jalen.

Aurelien found his way over to you and you were praying he wouldn’t pull you into his sweaty shirtless arms for a hug. You congratulated him on the win and let him know that you really enjoyed the game, thanking him for the tickets. You stood in the field with him for a while Jalen and him talked about each of their respective games.

“Thank you, again.” You said gently.

“Anything for you.” He grinned. “You busy later?”

“We’ve got plans.” You said looking up at him, purposefully ignoring his comment. He was much taller than you and it was hard to not be turned on by the size difference. You wondered if he remembered how nice it felt when your legs were wrapped around him or if he remembered how easily he swept you off your feet. You weren’t sure what he wanted to do but suddenly you wanted to be wherever he was going to be.

After watching him for over 90 minutes run across the field, bodying any man that stepped to him or his teammates made you a bit delirious with lust. You must’ve stared so much because Kim had to call you out on it during the match.You weren’t usually enamored with men but the way Aurelien stood staring down at you, his eyes trained on you as if you were the only person in the stadium with him, made you stammer. It could’ve been the heat or the drinks you had but either way, your body was reacting to his attention.

“Let me know when you’re free. We need to get together before you go.” Aurelien said matter of fact.

He dapped Jalen up once, shook hands with Kim, then proceeded to give you a hug despite your protests. Inwardly you were loving every bit of the feeling of his body against yours. Your fingertips skimmed his skin as you tried to pull away but he held you in place.

“I’m only in town for a few days but I’ll try.”

“I’m serious.” He said slowly as if you were going to ignore him.

You pulled away with a laugh and he grabbed your wrist playfully as you turned to walk away. Every time he touched you it was so firm but with the kind of tenderness that made a girl feel so warm and wanted.

“I know you are.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes but there was no hiding the smile that was spreading across both of your faces.

——

The plans consisted of fighting the urge to text Aurelien the entire time you were out with Kim, Jalen, and all his teammates, with a side of shots and dancing. The club was fun, but you couldn’t get your mind away from Aurelien and the way he looked at you after the game. With each sip you took of your drink it felt like the best decision to make a move on him. There was something that was pulling you in and you weren’t willing to fight it anymore.

You forced yourself to stop checking your phone, to not look to see if he reached out first and opted to leave your phone behind at the VIP lounge. All the girls in the group were on the dance floor.

The club was nice and packed, the music was loud and the shots were starting to settle in. Your body felt loose and as if you were simply floating. With each song the DJ transitioned to, you and Kim yelled in excitement. The two of you took turns singing and dancing on one another, the group of girls all hyping one another up. You were never the type to sit and not enjoy yourself and you were happy the other girls didn’t have to be dragged to the dance floor - the men were an entirely different story. They were content to watch their girlfriends have a good time while they drank and smoked cigars. You were lost in the sound of the afrobeat music playing, eyes closed as you danced on Kim.

At that moment, you couldn’t think of anything better than being young and free — life had been good to you, but you wondered what it felt like knowing that you had a man waiting for you to come home. You wondered what it would be like to be in your friend’s shoes, to be the doting athlete’s girlfriend. You imagined yourself cheering on Aurelien in a more intimate fashion. The idea of being at a game, with his name across your back and his number on a necklace made you ache for him.

By the time you were finally out of the dance floor, you were ready for water and to face whatever text may have come in the time you missed.

You made yourself look at your social media interactions before checking your messages. Despite your gut feeling, he hadn’t texted you. The last text was from when you told him you would meet him on the pitch. You were trying to hide your disappointment but it was all over your face.

The part of you that wanted to get to know him more was overrunning the logical part of your mind that was saying - how would it even work? Between work schedules, being in your 20s, and just living apart felt like a recipe for disaster. Despite the logical aspects running through your mind, your heart was craving him and his touch.

A.T: why are you pouting? miss me that much?

Y: what t are you talking about Aure

A.T: Look across the room, up to your left

Y: Are you following me? 👀

A.T: I was going to ask you the same thing

A.T: come see me

Y: I can’t get up there, security has it blocked off and I don’t want to leave my friends

A.T: I’ll come to you

You watched Aurelien maneuver his way through the crowded club and over to you in a similar manner as he did on the pitch: smooth and with the utmost confidence. Even though it was dim, you were able to spot him with ease. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his necklace glistened under the club lights. You moved past people in the section to meet him at the entrance. You waved off the security guard and let them know that he was clear to come in with you. Aurelien dapped up the security and when he turned his focus on you, your breath caught in your chest.

Aurelien placed his hand around your waist, his hand settling on your ass as he hugged you. When you pulled back you couldn’t tell if you or Aurelien’s smile was the biggest. .

“You’re really beautiful,” he said and you laughed. “Really fucking beautiful.”

“Why are you here?” You said with a tipsy laugh.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“End of season party, the whole team is here.” You pointed behind you towards the section full of people. “You?”

“Birthday.” Aure pointed to one of the younger men who stood at the balcony of a section across the way. When you turned your attention back to him, he was soaking in your outfit. His eyes trailed down your body then back up to your face.

“What are the odds?” You spoke, breaking him out of his daze. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that you were in the same place for the third time in two days.

“Were you going to tell me you were in town?” Aurelien’s eyes showed a slight hint of hurt over your lack of communication.

“I didn’t think you would notice.” You shrugged.

“There’s nowhere you could go without me noticing..” Aurelien commented, forcing you to drag your teeth over your bottom lip in awe of his directness.

You blinked slowly at him and wondered if he felt the buzz of attraction that you were feeling. You were growing hotter with each second that passed so you moved out his grip and took his hand in yours, letting him know he should meet everyone.

While he introduced himself, he kept his fingers interlocked with yours. You felt oddly comfortable standing beside him as he bounced between English and Spanish while speaking to the basketball players. Your eyes were drawn to his side profile as he spoke - the curve of his lips, his cheekbones, his laugh, his smile. Every part of him was attractive to you.

Shamelessly, you stepped closer to him. Your right hand was in his and you still felt like he wasn’t close enough. You pressed the top half of your body against his bicep and then wrapped your free hand around his forearm. You were entangled in him and you were loving every second of it.

“Baby,” Kim spoke up loudly from her seat next to Jalen, “It’s time for another shot!”

Her declaration was met with no disagreement and as the liquid burned down your throat, you felt chills run down your spine in tandem.

“Kim, bathroom?” You ushered your friend over to use her as a balancing device. The two of you laughed the entire way to the ladies room. You felt relieved to be able to make it out of the stall without busting your ass. Kim was in the mirror yapping away about how she hated that the boys didn’t make it to semi-finals but she was happier with knowing Jalen would be home more.

“I love Jalen, I really do but something about those first 72 hours together after the season ending is the best 72 hours ever.” Kim commented.

“Why’s that?” You asked, scrubbing your hands with soap underneath the hot water. You shook off your hands and placed them under the obnoxiously loud dryer. The laughs of girls walking in and out muffled her initial response so you asked her to speak loudly.

“Dating an athlete is….whew.” Kim fanned at herself dramatically. “The stamina is superb.”

“Stamina? Oh my god.” You laughed feeling the shot coursing through your bloodstream. You thought of Aurelien as soon as you stopped laughing.

“We go for hours.” Kim said with a pleased nod and it was met with a cheer from a random girl in the stall alongside a complimentary, “I know that’s right!”

“Damn girl. I didn’t know you were getting it like that.” You said and dotted yourself in the mirror, wondering if you needed to freshen up for the man you wanted so desperately.

“You would be too if you would stop running from the football guy.” Kim pulled lip gloss out of her bag, touching up her makeup. Girls poured in and out of the stalls making the room feel crowded. You grabbed hold of Kim and led the two of you out of the way of the stumbling, drunk women.

“Football guy? Oh Aurelien.” You pieced together as your friend rolled her eyes. You let out a “what?!” and she still looked disappointed.

“You’re better than me.” Kimmy shook her head and blew out a breath. “If Jalen was looking at me the way Aurelien looks at you, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re being dramatic, Kim.” You laughed and stepped around the people crowding the hallway. Kim’s hand was wrapped in yours to avoid getting separated from your side.

“And you’re delusional!” She shouted. “That man wants you to be his girlfriend, not just some random hook up.”

You ignored her comment and continued on towards the section, your eyes looking for Aurelien instinctively - you weren’t even out of the hallway and you were looking for him. You really fucking wanted him.

The music was no longer a distant thud of bass, it was loud and clear. You considered her observation as you navigated through the crowd. Once you made it to the steps of the VIP section, you scanned through the crowd of men with each step. You could see Aurelien sitting on the leathered booth next to a few people and one particular girl caught your eye. The girl, who’s name you weren’t certain of, was speaking to Aurelien but she noticed you staring and halted. She leaned in closer to Aurelien whose eyes settled on you, looking you up and down. It was a slow but steady motion and it made you hot all over. You couldn’t fight the smile that you gave him but made no effort to go see him. You found yourself a little disappointed by him soaking up the girl’s attention. You tried to brush it off but it wasn’t working - how could you be jealous when he wasn’t yours to keep?

Kim bumped your shoulder with a smirk and you knew what she was thinking. She sneakily put another drink in your hand but you didn’t protest. You weren’t ready for the night to end unless it was ending with leaving with Aurelien and you were determined to make that happen. Wasting no time, you took in a large swig of the fruity drink and decided you needed to dance. The last thing you needed was to kill your own vibe by worrying over Aurelien with another girl. You left your friends behind and joined the other girls on the dance floor and as soon as they spotted you, you were met with celebratory cheers.

Mr. Vegas’ Hot Wuk took over the room and you were taken back in time. You took the easier route and let one of the girls dance on you. There was an unspoken agreement between the group that unless one of you explicitly stated that you wanted to dance with a man, you’d dance with one another to warn off unwanted advances.

You helped your drink steady above the girl dancing, screaming along while dancing on her. You had to hold your own dress by the hem as it rode up with each movement. You were in your own world and completely oblivious to the conversation Kim and Aurelien were having as they watched you dance.

You lost all track of time on the dance floor. The drinks you had were coursing through your head and made you a giggling mess as you climbed up the stairs. You weren’t drunk but a little tipsy. As you scanned the section for Kim you came up short and decided to get Aurelien’s attention instead. You had a small window of time left in Spain and you were adamant about not leaving without having a taste of him. If he was still as good as you remembered, it was going to be a hell of a night.

“Have I told you that you look good?” You sat next to Aurelien and crossed your legs. Your dress was dangerously short and you didn’t care to fix it. Aurelien’s hand gripped your thigh, sending jolts of joy through your body. “Like really good?” You reiterated with a laugh.

“Think so?” He played into your sudden burst of energy and honesty.

“Everyone thinks so, Aurel.” Your tone was laced with a bit of confusion. “That girl was just hanging all over you.”

“She wasn’t all over me.” He chuckled.

“She was.” You refused to back down.

“What if I want you all over me?” He said boldly. A pleased smirk tugged on your lips but you fought it, trying to look indifferent.

“I left for two minutes and came back to you with a girl on your side.” You half-teased and you realized how odd that sounded as it left your mouth.

“Are you jealous?” Aurelien asked with a glint in his eyes. The bass of the music thumping in your chest didn’t compare to the way your heartbeat sped up. You licked your lips and dropped your gaze to his. His mouth was slightly ajar and his teeth pulled the bottom lip in. You were so engrossed in the way his mouth looked that he spoke your name to remind you there was an answer he was waiting for.

“Jealous?” Your eyes snapped up to his face. “For what reason should I be jealous? Jealous….of who?” You tilted your head to the side with a little smile tugging your lips.

You got closer to Aurelien and he turned his body squarely towards, which gave you full front access to him. You took his exposed chain and slipped your index finger underneath, giving it a gentle tug and Aurelien leaned in closer to you. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and you loved it. You wanted it, all over you, all the time.

“You think I’m jealous of her?”

“You shouldn’t be.” Aurelien said as you tugged his chain closer to you. His lips were so close you were damn near on the verge of kissing him. You licked your own lips before flicking your eyes up to him. You held his stare and you took a breathe before reminding who you were:

“I will never be jealous of another woman, especially when it comes to you.” You released his chain and laid back into the leather couch, Aurelien’s chuckle ringing in your ears. He ran a hand down his face, looking like he’s struggling to hold back a comment.

“Why’s that?” He asked in genuine curiosity.

“Because you chase after me, babe. You don’t chase them.” You said sweetly, blinking your lashes at him. You couldn’t form a smile because his lips were on yours instantly.

It was a kiss of pure desperation and you loved it. You didn’t even mind that you could taste the last shot he took. You just really wanted to drink him no matter that looked like at that moment. If you could’ve seen yourself from someone else’s shoes you would be judgmental but you were shamelessly ready to make this man yours.

“Let’s go to mine.” He mumbled as he pulled away.

“You drank, Aurel.” You said with a deep breath, battling with the thought that if you didn’t sleep with this man tonight, you would miss your chance. But you knew yourself to be more of a take things slow type of girl but would that even be possible with his lifestyle?

“I have a car service, mon bebe.”

“Baby?” You repeated in a cute tone.

“You’re coming to mine.” He stood up and dusted off his pants.

“But I have a flight in the morning…” you started.

“Don’t worry about all that. Say bye to Kim and then I’ll walk us out.”

Kim was more excited for you and you allowed her to be. She was full-on in love with the idea of Aurelien dating you because, selfishly, she would see you more often and maybe have you here permanently. You were waving goodbye to Jalen when your hand was taken away by Aurelien. You smiled goofily as Kim made a few faces but ultimately landed an “I love you!” and an air kiss. As you walked hand in hand with Aurelien you felt charged full of energy. His grip on yours was gentle but firm and you were eating it up. He dapped up a few of his friends on the way out and you couldn’t help but notice the looks they gave Aurelien - all of them smiling, telling you that they would “see you later.

In the fresh air of the night, you took in the moment of silence. Aurelien’s hand never left yours even as you stood still waiting for the car service to come from the back. You were amazed by the ease of it all:

“Are three tickets okay?”

“There’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t notice.”

“Don’t worry about all that. It’ll be fine.”

Aurelien was sure of himself, you realized. You were falling in love with the idea of him always taking care of things, as shallow as it sounded. But you quieted your mind and looked up towards the man who seemed to be already staring at you.

“What?”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” You said firmly, going against your own heart.

“Who said anything about that? I just want to be with you.” He said, placing his palm on your back to lead you to the car door. He held it open as you slid in, shutting it behind himself when you were settled.

“You want to talk to me, huh?” You teased and couldn’t help but giggle.

“Mhm, for hours.” He said in a serious but also joking manner.

“Well we’ve got a few hours before my flight.” You said reminding him of that small stipulation.

“I told you don’t worry about it.”

You shook your head at him but ultimately did as you were told and sat back against the leather, crossing your legs.

As soon as you did so, Aurelien’s hand was on you, rubbing the pad of his thumb on your skin. You felt like you were right where you needed to be, regardless of how the hell you were getting home.

for my cama girlies!! working on something fun

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THISSS!!😩

-> never lose me | jude bellingham

jude b. x sister!tatumalexanderarnold!reader

part one | genre: social media au, brief smut 18+

summary: a weekend trip with your brother turns into a petty situation where jude can’t see to let go of an old crush you had on him

“What’s your problem?” You asked and the smile on your face faded with each word. Trent, Jude, and a few others were standing outside the club waiting as you walked down the steps. You had idea the “problem” was you abandoning the section that your brother bought for the night out and instead went to be with Charles Leclerc, your close friend.

“Wha’ your little boyfriend staying behind?” Trent scoffed as you halted on the last step. You crossed your arms in defiance and to cover yourself from salty breeze coming from the ocean.

“Which one?” You countered with a smirk.

“Tatum.” Trent said with no humor at all. For a guy who was drunk and partying an hour ago, he had an absolute foul mood radiating off of him. Trent had the habit of being a brat, which made it difficult for you to also be one, too. He was the brother who had the nuclear secret code to pissing you the hell off.

“Let her stay, she doesn’t have to leave with us.” Iris played Devil’s advocate. She wrapped an arm around Trent’s bicep and drummed her fingers against the muscle. “She’s a big girl.”

You mouthed “Big. Girl.” to emphasize the girl’s statement.

“She’s my baby sister and she’s not staying at a random club in Ibiza.” Trent said. “We’re leaving.”

“This?” You jutted your thumb behind you to the club that was somehow getting livelier as the threat of sunrise came. You gave an exasperated whistle and said, “this is chill compared to Monaco.”

“Let’s go.”

“Let me just…” You began.

“No. Sprinters nearly here.”

“I need the ladies room.” You argued truthfully.

“Hold it.” Trent’s rebuttal earned a snicker from Jude and a small smack from Iris.

“I’ll be back.” You turned on your heel, taking one step up when you heard Iris offer to come with you. Trent shot her proposal down. His reasoning?

“I’m not sendin’ the two of yous in there alone.”

“Not alone if we’ve got each other.” You yelled over your shoulder and took another step. “It’s literally right there, I’m not doing to die.”

“I don’t trust you to come back.”

“You don’t trust anyone Trent.” You exposed his lack of trust without a second thought to how bad it looked for that to be said with his very kind, very cool, girlfriend standing there. You could feel the impending lecture he was going to give you over breakfast.

“You’re not goin’ alone.”

“I’ll go with her bro,” Jude stepped forward and all eyes landed on him. He looked calm and collected despite the fact he had partied for hours on end before stepping out into the night. “It won’t take long.” His eyes flickered towards you and instead of meeting him with a grateful smile, yours fell flat with irritation.

“Hurry up.” Trent said and you skipped your way up the steps, flashed your wristband to security and slid your way into the club.

It was pure ecstasy to step back inside and be met with flush bodies. The fog machine shot out thick, cool smoke from the impossibly tall building and the cheers of the crowd was a welcome relief from the stupid conversation between you and your brother. Mindlessly you reach behind yourself and wiggled your fingers for Jude to grab. Instead of cupping his hand around yours, he felt it better suited to interlock his fingers with yours. You rolled your eyes over the boyish movement but continued pushing through the crowd to the restrooms.

“There’s a line!” Jude bellowed behind you. “This will take forever.”

You ignored him as you sauntered further and further into the building towards a dimly lit hallway. There was a velvet rip blocking the entrance to a private bathroom but without a second glance, you lifted your leg and stepped over the rope. Jude followed suit, glancing behind himself to see if anyone was watching. Despite the blocked off restroom, there was no one actually keeping security outside of it.

You jiggled the door and it didn’t budge. You groaned and stomped your foot, thinking of ways to let your friend know that his club needed to stop locking the only luxury bathrooms. You pulled a bobby pin out of sweated out hair and placed the opening between your teeth.

“We should go to the other one.” Jude said with darting eyes.

“Relax.” You ordered as you bent the bobby pin into a flat piece and jammed it into the doors key lock. It clicked and you sighed, pushing your way in. Jude took a step back to let you have your privacy but you pulled him in and slammed the door shut.

“We cannot leave the bathroom together.” Jude stammered dumbly.

“We won’t.” You pulled on the handle of the marbled sink, allowing the water to block out the noise of you using the restroom. One glance at yourself in the mirror left you impressed by the fact your makeup held up perfectly.

“Turn away.” You ordered with a spin of your finger.

Jude did so with a huff and a cross of his arms, inspecting the gold leafed walls. This placed reeked of new money.

“Why do ya know about this bathroom?” He asked with a hint of judgement.

“I have a few friends who like to go skiing.” You answered and flushed the toilet.

You were pulling your micro skirt over your thong when Jude turned around. You didn’t hesitate for a second although he flushed at sight of your fire red thong contrasting the black skirt. Thankfully, he didn’t see your tipsy stumble or the fact you needed the wall to walk up to the sink.

“Skiing? In Ibiza.” He scrunched his nose in confusion.

“Jude, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You shook your head in disbelief. It became so clear in that moment just how tiny the bathroom was. You could smell his cologne and the minty gum he was chewing on.

“Whadda mean skiing?” He asked again as you began washing your hands. He stepped behind you and looked at you down at you through the mirror.

“Coke.”

“Oh, oh.” Jude said dumbfounded. He pulled his phone out his pocket after a set of bells and vibrations began to alert him. He declined the call after staring at it for a few moments and then it was your turn to ask.

“Not going to answer your girlfriend?” You asked sarcastically.

The last time you saw Jude was a the Formula 1 Monaco Grand Prix a year ago, but back then he was dating a girl - or two, you weren’t absolutely certain. The rumor mill was small.

What you were certain of was him not giving any thought to you. Jude brushed you off. That wasn’t the first time it happened but you swore it to be the last. You only ran into the same circle when it came to your brother and those few minutes being around him irritated you. It was comical after his disinterred that he was always the first to view your stories and like your posts. You’d even been sent a screenshot from a friend exposing him for liking a post about you and Charles from a floozy gossip account.

It boosted your ego knowing he was finally seeing what he lost. The girl you were last year would have never expected to be glad to turn down Jude Bellingham.

“Nah, not sure which one it is.” He stole your rebuttal with a smirk. You found yourself rolling your eyes once again at the boy.

Through your drunken gaze, you were reminded of why you were attracted to him in the first place.

Jude’s skin was quite literally golden - the kind of color that reminded you of caramel candy and you truly, secretly and desperately, wanted to know if he tasted like it, too. You weren’t the biggest fan of facial hair but on him, it worked. His symmetrical face framed by the baby beard and the long lashes that stared down at you were a killer combination. The first time he actually looked in your eyes and smiled, you could barely speak. It was the most embarrassing thing to have happened in your life. It was totally normal for you to find yourself staring at your brother’s friends but it wasn’t normal to find yourself instantly stuttering if he stared at you too long.

“Hilarious.” You said lamely and a hiccup followed.

God, I’m fucking drunk.

You took a step backwards towards the door but your heel bobbled and he instinctively grabbed your wrist.

“Christ how drunk are you?” He scolded. There was no use to answer the question. Jude tilted his head to look at you, assessing your features. “Are you…are you okay?” His sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine.” You shoved his hand away, which did you no favors. Jude was rooted in his spots and his strength sent you stumbling back against the door.

“Tatum.” His eyes widened at the sound of your head thumping against the heavy door.

“ ‘m good. Swear.” You breathed out. You could feel the common sense fading away. “Just…just get me to the sprinter.”

“You sure….there’s probably paps outside by now.”

“I’m sure. It’ll be fine lead the way.” You ushered him into the hallway and made a prayer with each platform heeled step you took.

——

-> the gossip

Spotted 👀

-> Oh snap! 📸 Miss Tatum Alexander Arnold is out and living her best life in ibiza. Sources say she wasn’t alone, she spent her time in a reserved section surrounded by nepo babies, models, and even a few athletes. Though she came in alone, she left with her brother, his girlfriend, and a few friends *cough cough* Jude Bellingham. Now we’re not one to gossip but waking out hand-in-hand with your brother’s teammate is scandalous to say the least. What do we think besties?

——

You were content sitting on the marble counter of the rental house with the moonlight lighting the kitchen. With your gooey brownie in one hand, phone in the other and the promise of a long hot shower on your mind, you were at the peak of your night. You couldn’t stifle the laugh at the blog post that “reported” on you being out at the club. You had to give it to them, they worked fast and majority of the time they were accurate.

Your peace was interrupted by the kitchen bright white lights flashing on. You shut your eyes and cursed at whoever turned the lights on.

“Sorry.” Jude mumbled. You opened your eyes to see him walking in shirtless, clad in boxers and rubbing his eye like a little kid coming to tell his mom he was sick. “Drama Queen.” He muttered as he pulled open the fridge.

“That’s mint coming from you.” You chuckled and turned towards him, legs still swinging.

“From me?” Jude grabbed a water and leaned on the counter across from you, his fingers moving up and down on the bottle. You found yourself staring at his fingers - taking in the rhythm, the size of them. You bit you brownie to distract yourself and scattered crumbs on the counter in the process.

“Yeah, you.” You chewed. “They should give you an Oscar for the flopping you do.” You mimicked his habitual movement of throwing his hands in the air, acting as if he’s been hit so hard and leaned backwards to complete his way of performing for a foul.

Jude’s laugh was hearty and genuine, making a small one spread across your own face. His laugh was charming. Dangerous, even.

“So you watch me? That’s what you’re sayin’?” He asked with a bemused expression.

“Nah, not willingly.”

“Ouch, T.” He said with a pained expression and you snapped at him as he responded as if a referee was secretly watching.

“You just proved my point.” You hopped off the counter and you skirt took it’s sweet time settling down. For the second time that night, Jude got a view of your stringy thong with a bit of a shower of your tanned ass. You’d never been so happy with your results of your training.

Jude cleared his throat and when you turned to look at him, he began drinking his water and adverting his eyes from looking at your ass. You rolled your eyes at the lame way of hiding his stare.

“See ya in the mornin’.” You said without turning back around.

“See ya.” He coughed and you knew that it was your microskirt that him choking on his water.

——

-> the instagram post

tatumsdiary: from passenger princess to back seat baby 👼🏽

landonorris: 🪩 💃🏽

frienduser1: the bag 🤌🏽

tatumsdiary replied: prada til i die

malefriend: 🔥🔥🔥

randomfan: big T one not the lil one

situationship: 😍

femaletennisplayer: tatum wyd babe

tatumsdiary replied: my best

femaletennisplayer replied: i love you lmao

tatemcrae: giiiiiirl

bestfriend: damn you fine

nbaplayer: that’s how we moving now?

tatumsdiary replied: i think y’all call it traveling in your league or something

nbaplayer replied: don’t piss me off 🤣

loriharvey: gorgeous

😍

-> get you alone | aurelién tchouameni

aurelién t. x black!gf!reader

genre: smut with no plot, 18+ minors dni | this is severely unedited and i apologize. i needed to get it out my drafts or i will never post it. this is for my girl @trenterprise

summary: an absolute love drunk Aurelien can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you. once he gets you alone he takes his time worshipping every bit of you.

🎶 get you alone - maejor ft. jeremih

From his spot on the stage, despite the honorary speech being delivered by the owner of Real Madrid, Aurelién’s gaze fell upon you in the audience. You were at a table with a few other guests with your chin in the palm of your hand and a wine glass in the other. The glossy eyed smile was a tell-tale sign of you being tipsy. Aurelién tried to hold his smirk as he took in the confidence in your face, despite you not being fluent in Spanish to fully comprehend the praises of the speech being delivered. Aurelién dropped his head with a silent laugh and ran his hand down his face. When he composed himself, you were looking at him with a teasing smile. You motioned for him to listen but knew it would fall on deaf ears.

Aurelien rushed off the stage and through the compliments and congratulatory claps on his shoulder as he strode to you.

You were standing near an older woman who he couldn’t recognize and as much as he wanted to care about who she was, his mind was clouded with days dreams of all things he could do to you when he got you alone. He sent a silent, selfish, prayer to the universe for an excuse to leave the gala.

Aurelien didn’t greet you with words, instead he placed a small kiss on your cheek and a wrapped a supportive hand around your waist. You didn’t skip a beat as you engaged in conversation but you did cross one heeled foot over the other and let your body rest easily into his touch. You felt Aurelien loose a breath and you glanced up at him.

“I couldn’t do any of it without Aurelien, of course,” you beamed, placing your hand on his chest and gently patted him. “He’s been so patient with the whole process.”

“Goodness,” The lady gushed and looked between the two of you. She placed her hand on her heart and sighed dreamily, as if she were reliving a moment of her own. “You remind me of my husband and I. We were just making it up as we went but it all worked out.” She assured you.

She took a step closer to kiss both of your cheeks and excused herself from the conversation but not without making you promise to email her for any help you needed.

You squared yourself to Aurelien and you were met with delicious smell of his cologne. It was still awe inspiring when you looked at him and took him in - took in every corner of his face and realized he was all yours. The same thought seemed to cross his mind as he stared down at you. He tightened his jaw and rubbed his finger along the stiff muscles. You both knew that multiple people were watching you and him. Patrons and fans were waiting for the chance to get a moment with him, just to say hello and maybe grab a photo. He’d been running around all night and as he stood in front of you, you realized this was only the third time you’d seen him all night.

“Almost done?” You asked lowly, not wanting to come off as rude. There was an after-party but the two of you would not be attending. You were craving more than a little bit of time alone with your man. Aurelien shook his head with a small sigh. The air was charged with desire and all of it was from him.

“A few things then, we can go.” He promised.

“You should wear a tux more often, Aurel.” You looked him up and down in sheer satisfaction at the choice the team’s stylist made for the occasion. He looked to die for. The subtle details of his initials on his cuff links, along with the Rolex you gifted him on his birthday, made your heart skip a beat. You loved seeing him dressed up - it didn’t happen often but when he did you soaked him in.

“Wait, let me fix your tie.” You placed your glass down and focused on his wonky tie. As you slid the knot a loose, you drew in your bottom lip, biting the skin softly. The tie was far too tight for him as he insisted on redoing it himself when he arrived at the gala. Aurelien placed his hands on his hips.

“Look up.” You ordered and he did. His exposed neck looked like a treat, especially with the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he swallowed. You finished and took a step back to admire your work. He leaned in to kiss you once more and you happily accepted the feeling of his lush lips on your own. You didn’t even want to know how messed up your lips were. There was no doubt your lipstick was lost on the rim of the wine glass so a kiss or two from Aurelien wouldn’t hurt.

A pout formed on his face when you pulled away and before he could protest, Jude called his name from across the room. There was a gust of laughter You shooed him away with the reminder that the faster he moved, the sooner you could get home.

——

Aurelien collapsed into the living room chair loosing a long breath. The only sound in the house was of your high heels on the marbled floor and the trot of Zeus behind you. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully relax. Aurelien was finally able to have a proper weekend away from work, spend time recovering but most of all, spend the weekend attached to you.

You found Aurelien in his favorite chair, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. From behind you bent over and ran your hands down his abdomen and gently kissed his neck. The sigh that he emitted sent sparks down your stomach straight to your core. You allowed yourself to breathe him in and accept that he would probably fall asleep soon - you knew how tired he was and as childish as it was to be sad over his rest, you would rather him be well-rested than be going round for round with you. You pulled away and walked around the chair to stand in front of him.

“C’mere.” You pulled him up by his tie and his eyes slowly opened. You placed your knee in between his thighs to steady yourself as you began untying his tie. Aurelien’s warm hands reached for your thighs through the dangerously high slit in your dress. He slid him thumb underneath the small slither of fabric that was your thong. He wrapped as much of it in between his fingers and tugged you forward. You lurched and immediately scolded him with a laugh because you nearly lost your balance but he paid you no mind.

Aurelien’s growl was low and hearty, sending you into the depths of your memories when he was making the exact same noises while stroking his cock as you had phone sex a few days ago. Your chest heaved at the thought of him fully exposed and fucking his hand as you praised him and reminded him that you were waiting for him to cum for your own climax. Aurelien had a reputation for being an avid listener and that was true in all faucets of his life. He loved to hear you talk him through his climax. His eyes always rolled backwards when you cooed to him that you wanted him to cum and ‘think of all the ways you wanted his dick.’

“Tired?” You asked as you finished pulling the tie off of him.

“No.” Aurelien pulled your thong harder and you caught yourself from falling by letting your hands rest on the couch. “Did you have fun?” He asked, his teeth biting your lower stomach softly. Aurelien was an ultimate giver and right now, he was full of pent up energy from being away from you.

“I did.” You pulled back and stood up. “Untie me?”

Aurelien did as he was instructed with no hesitation. When his hand brushed against your exposed back you shuddered at the coolness. As the straps fell off and your waist, you thanked him quietly. You took a small step toward the bedroom but his grip on your waist stopped you. Aurelien’s hand slid up your spine as he simultaneously bent you back flat., wanting to feel fullness of your ass on his growing bulge. You gasped not out of shock but of a jolt of lust that left your body ablaze at the feeling of his cock being so close.

You breathed in every single inch of his fingers as it moved to wrap your hair in his hands. His grip was firm as he pulled it up so that your body was flush against his chest. He tugged your head sideways and trailed his wet hot tongue from your shoulder to your neck. He nearly unraveled when you moaned aloud and it motivated him to get you gasping out his name.

“Miel.” He uttered against your skin. [Honey]

“Hmm?” You hummed distracted by the deepness of his voice. When Aurelien spoke French he could command you to do whatever he wanted and you would happily do so.

“I have been waiting to get you alone.” Aurelien admitted. “All. Night.” His hands tugged at your hair once more and when you whimpered, he held steady.

“Really?”

Aurelien dropped his hand. When you turned to face him, his tongue was licking his bottom lip as he took you in. Aurelien always looked at you as if it was the last time he would ever get the chance to - it was endearing and hot. You made easy work of unbuttoning his belt never breaking eye contact with him. His lips were a welcome reminder of how much you loved when he simply kissed you. With his tongue in your mouth he nearly devoured you, undoubtedly tasting the few glass of wine you enjoyed early. You slid your hand into the band of his boxers and held his throbbing dick in your manicured hands. The reactionary twitch to your touch was followed by him growing harder.

“I missed you, I missed this.” You whispered against his mouth and strengthened your grip on him. He moaned into your mouth.

Aurelien ordered Zeus to go into his crate and you began walking lazily through the hallway. The photos that lined the walls were crafted by you when you moved in with Aurelien. You made him promise to allow you to redecorate a few areas of his house so that it could be turned into a home - it went from bachelor pad to a home were you happily hosted whoever came by. It was calm and inviting, just the way a home should be.

Aurelien snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He immediately began sucking on the most sensitive area of your neck. You took slow steps towards the bedroom, allowing Aurelien to devour you the entire trip there. By the time you arrived in the doorway, you were certain that you would wake up with a bit of purple undertones from the way he worked his mouth on your skin. When he pulled away you could feel the blood throbbing in your neck. It was an effort to get onto the huge bed because Aurelien was not letting go of you and as he kissed you, he murmured sweet nothings against your skin.

You shimmied out of your dress as Aurelien took off his shirt and undershirt, his eyes on you as you propped yourself up on elbows. He turned down the lights to a more warm, ambient setting and you smiled at your choice of renovations.

“What?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Aurelien crawled over your body and urged you to lay down as he held his hands on either side of your body. You settled into the cloud of a bed and your eyes found the mirror on the ceiling.

Aurelien’s took slow, sloppy, wet kisses from your neck down to your breast and with each kiss, his back muscles contracted in the reflection of the mirror. It was a recent addition into the bedroom and you were mentally thanking whoever gave Aurelien the idea to put it there.

“Mon Dieu, tu as le corps parfait.” He paused to say then continued exploring your body with his mouth. [God you have the perfect body.]

From the champagne and the rush of adrenaline rushing through your body, you were dizzy with excitement as he detailed every bit of your breast with his tongue. It was as if he was committing all of you to his memory. Your breathing grew faster and louder as Aurelien’s mouth venture down your abdomen and into the inner crevice of your thigh and hip. You opened your legs easily, feeling every bit of wetness that had pooled between your legs. You knew you damn near dripping onto the comforter.

Aurelien didn’t take the bait of your open legs but instead focused on your hip bone. He traced his tongue up and downward so dangerously close to where we really wanted him to be.

“Don’t tease.” You whispered.

“Ne me dis pas comment te faire l'amour.” He flicked his eyes up at you, knowing that you had no clue what was said. [Don’t tell me how to make love to you.]

“What was that?” Although you didn’t understand French, you understand his point.

Aurelien’s eye roll was laugh inducing and as he pressed his lips to yours, you were in a fit of laughter. You instinctively cupped his mouth and pulled him closer - he was never close enough. Your laughter subsided and fell into a needy little noise as you slowed down to deepen the kiss. The lack of rush in the way he touched you was so sweet that it drove you mad. It took time to get used to his way of being with you: there fucking or making love and Aurelien was a master of the latter. Not a single moment passed with a thought of insecurity or fear because he was so vocal about loving you. Aurelien heard the desperation in the way you said his name and it sent him crumbling. The willpower he tried to exhibit to hold out as long as possible faded when his eyes met yours.

Aurelien slid into you with ease and the pain felt so good that you couldn’t help but arch your back, throw your head back, and call out for him. It felt like the first time every single time. You opened your eyes lazily to find him staring at you, his mouth slightly open as he licked his lips. His strokes were so smooth and deep that it left you wondering how you went so long without having him in your - how you’d survive without knowing him. You would wait a thousand times over but you thankful you didn’t have to.

“Nothing compares.” Aurelien said softly.

You nodded in agreement because you were wholly unable to form a coherent sentence. Aurelien was meticulous in all aspects of life but the fact he had learned how much force was just enough and he knew that the way his dick curved in you slightly so, was what you loved the most. It nearly impossible for you to keep your eyes open but Aurelien directed you to look at him you obliged. You would do damn near anything to keep him thrusting in you the way he was now.

“Tu es tout.” His damp forehead pressed onto yours. [You are everything.]

“Goddamn,” you replied. You were completely oblivious to what he said. He could be putting hex on you would not care. Aurelien pulled himself out of you and left just the tip of his dick in your entrance.

“Look at me,” He said with a steady voice. Aurelien’s gaze made you feel icy hot. There was something so intimate about the way he looked at, the way spoke to you. “I want you to listen okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, keeping your focus on him. You fought the urge to grab his dick yourself and put it in. You held his stare as your heart raced harder.

“I’m going to take my time…” Aurelien said as he inched in you impossibly slow. You loosed a breath humming in response again. You fisted the sheets trying to pacify the energy trapped inside you. Each second felt like forever.

“You can do whatever you want.” You said pitifully as he entered you fully. You drew out the longest curse word of your life as he found a rhythm. Your body rocked with the movements and your breast bounced from the impact of the slow thrusts.

“Ta chatte a été faite pour moi, je te jure.” [Your pussy was made for me, I swear.]

“God.” You yelled a little louder than before and Aurelien took that as an invitation to go deeper. He grabbed the back of your left thigh and pushed it up towards your chest gently. If you weren’t on the bed you were certain you would have fainted two or three strokes ago. His stamina was unmatched and you were fighting to keep up with him. You usually waited to finish at the same time but there was no way you would be able to.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You said and clung to him shamelessly.

“Si humide et si beau, Je ne pourrais jamais en avoir assez de te baiser.[So wet and so beautiful, could never get enough of fucking you.]

You felt the pressure of an orgasm building in your chest. There was no fighting it as it crept up into your head sending you to the edge of euphoria.

“Let it out.” He encouraged as your breathing turned into a soft pant. Your hormones were on the brink of a luxurious spiral and you were getting tighter around him. It hurt so good your eyes were prickly with tears. The scream that met your ears was nearly unrecognizable and if Aurelien wasn’t telling you to be louder, you would’ve been embarrassed.

“Aurelien, baby,” you pressed your hands against his stomach trying to run away and catch your breath. “I’m going to…” you gasped.

“J'ai tout le week-end pour te faire l'amour.” [I have the whole weekend to fuck you.”

As soon as you opened your mouth to say something, the budding orgasm had finally consumed you. He didn’t stop thrusting his dick into you as you yelled. You were so overwhelmed by the adrenaline spike that you shut your eyes to get a hold of yourself. The ringing in your ears made Aurelien’s words distant and muffled but the repeated declarations of him saying “I love you.” were clear.

You had no capacity for a response and continued to ride the high of your orgasm. It has thrown you off balance and into daze so intense that took you nearly cried. Your high was beginning to fade. When Aurelien pulled out of you, your eyes opened and stared at the ceiling mirror.

Your blinks felt slow and heaving. Aurelien flopped onto his back next you, sighing loudly. You let your face fall on the pillow so that you could look towards him. Although he was breathing faster than you, he seemed unbothered and not even close to tired. A comfortable silence fell over the room and with each passing moment your limbs grew heavier. The sleepiness was welcomed after the orgasm you had and the warm reminder of being able to sleep was the cherry on top.

“I love you.” You said quietly.

“I love you.” He whispered back without hesitation.

“You just got back and I already miss you.” You said as you cozied up to him. His body was damp with sweat but you didn’t mind at all.

“We have the whole weekend.” Aurelien reminded you. “I’m not going anywhere.”