#andy robertson fanfiction

[football-and-fanfics]

Worried - Trent Alexander-Arnold & Andy Robertson

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Andy Robertson Prompt: "As your friend, I have every right to be worried." Requested by: anonymous Word count: 586 Warnings: mentions of injury, being sad.

Last night had possibly been the worst night of Trent’s life. During Liverpool's final Premier League match before they would be playing the Champions League final, he had injured his hamstring. Any hopes he might still have had of being able to play in the Champions League final were almost immediately squashed by the medical team, who informed Trent he was looking at a possibly lengthy recovery time from this.

Trent took that news very hard. He went home, ignoring all of his teammates' best wishes and words of encouragement, and refused to see or speak to anyone.

He slammed the front door of his home shut behind him and locked it. Finally he was alone. He had absolutely no desire to go out or see anyone any time soon. All Trent felt like was to live like a hermit for the next few days, and nothing was going to stop him from doing so.

---

It was nearing 8pm the next evening when Trent was startled by his doorbell ringing. He fully meant to ignore it, but the persistent ringing of whoever was at his door eventually changed Trent’s mind.

Trent was astonished to find Andy being the one standing on his doorstep. The Scot looked agitated, something Trent didn't see often from him.

"What are you doing here?" Trent frowned. "You’re not answering your phone." Andy didn't wait to be invited to step inside. "I know you took getting injured last night very hard, but you can't stop communicating like that. I was worried and needed to make sure you’re alright." "I’m fine." Trent bit back. "No need for the drama."

Andy whipped around, glaring at Trent. The look his friend gave him was so sharp and stern that Trent actually took a step back. It was a look he had never gotten from Andy before, and, quite frankly, hoped never to be on the receiving end of again.

"As your friend, I have every right to be worried," Andy said coldly, "what am I supposed to think when you’re not answering one of my hundred calls, or anyone else's for that matter, and after a while it just goes straight to voicemail?" "I– I’m sorry," Trent stammered, shaken up now, "I switched it off, I didn’t want to talk to anyone." "And that’s alright, lad." Andy’s tone lightened somewhat. "But at least you should’ve told one of us you were alright. I– I didn’t like your state of mind last night. I was worried sick."

Trent nodded slowly, feeling tears start to burn in his eyes. It had never been his intention to worry any of his teammates, and he hated that he had apparently done exactly that.

Andy pulled Trent into a bear hug when he saw the tears. "Oh, Trentski, I’m not here to bust your balls," Andy soothed, "I was genuinely worried about you, and I guess it kind of freaked me out. So I had to see for myself that you were okay." "Thank you." Trent mumbled. "Now tell me how it's really going?" Andy's tone turned fatherly. "I..." Trent sniffled. "I'm having a hard time coping with this injury..."

Any further things Trent might have wanted to say got lost in fresh tears. Andy tightened the bear hug, hoping he could convey his comfort and genuine care for Trent in it. Trent sobbed quietly into Andy’s shoulder, and Andy let him. He would always let him. Because, at the end of the day, all that mattered was their friendship.

Writing masterlist

[yellowkitkieran]

Situationship (Andy Robertson)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You no longer want a friends with benefits relationship with Andy, but he fumbles and has to try winning you back.

Situationships are… complicated. Messy. They almost always end in disaster. Which is why you tend to avoid them. Working in the media department at Liverpool means the lads are constantly grafting and fighting for who gets what spot behind the lens you're holding, and you never thought much of it.

That is, you didn't think anything of it until Andrew Robertson seemed to take a liking to you. A few months ago, Andy seemed to take a shine to you. He volunteered for media duties, went out of his way to bring you coffee in the mornings, and even stayed late to keep you company one night. 

Still, you didn’t let yourself hope. Not until he approached you with a reserved smile and a hint of red coloring his cheeks. One question in that delicious Scottish accent of his had you folding: "Can I take you out some time, love?"

Really, when a man possesses such enrapturing eyes that just so happen to be the color of caramel poured over crunchy fallen leaves, it's not fair that he also have gallons of charm hidden in his smile. You were powerless to resist him that first day, and you're still powerless now- even after you've both promised there's no strings attached.

No feelings, that was the one stipulation you both set out with from the start. One date was all you agreed to before you realized you couldn’t jeopardize either of your jobs. And while you hadn’t enjoyed yourself that much before or since that night, both of you knew no relationship could be allowed to bloom. The threat of termination was too high- you both decided that a physical relationship was all that was allowed. 

And for the first month or so, that was fine. You didn't think about Andy while going about your business. He didn't consume your thoughts at night- unless it was a night that you needed a release, then his moans would swirl in your head and bring you that sweet relief you hunted for. 

But Andy has a way of wiggling his way into hearts, and yours is no different. You've felt the feelings growing for weeks now, though you're terrified to acknowledge them. Tonight is the last night you'll have with him before he leaves for a stint on international duty, and you already know you'll ache for him- and not just between your legs. Your heart will hurt too, yearning for the brief moments of intimacy he affords you after you've fucked like rabbits. 

Nights like tonight only make it harder for you to separate yourself. Your fingers trace shapes over his bare abdomen, the thin trail of hair leading under the sheet slung low over his hips only tempting you for another round. But you promised you wouldn't tire him out before he left, and his low, even breathing suggests he is already half asleep as it is.

"I'm gonna miss you," you mumble, the words slipping out before you can think to stop them. Your head rests on Andy's chest so you can feel the hitch in his breath as he processes what you've just admitted. You try not to focus on it and move to tracing shapes on his chest instead, the soft hair there tickling your fingertips. 

"I'll be back in a few weeks and then I've got a full day off- we can catch up on all the sex we've missed." Andy speaks so nonchalantly, so off the cuff, like he truly feels nothing for you even after all this time. It's more of a stab in the heart than you'd like to admit. How? Do you truly mean so little to him? You can’t wrap your head around the callousness of his voice. ‘Catch up on the sex’, like you’re no more than a body. Like he doesn't feel the same genuine connection that you do.

You shove off his chest, pulling the sheet with you as you sit up. You cover yourself as best you can, feigning modesty considering how many times Andy has seen you physically bare. Mentally though? You feel raw, jagged and broken like a vase smashed on the tile. 

Andy sits up too, picking up on the way your entire mood has taken a nosedive. "What- what? If you don't want to see me when I'm back that's fine-" 

"God, you really don’t get it do you?” Andy has the good sense to appear wounded, like you’ve struck him. Good. Let him feel the same hurt that has settled in your soul. “I'm sick of this," you spit, "I'm sick of pretending I don't care. That I don’t want anything more from you. Is this really just sex to you?"

Andy's wide, searching eyes roam your face. He tries to puzzle out the hidden meaning behind your words. Except nothing is hidden- you're too hurt to bother masking it. It’s all written on your face plain as day. Andy would be able to read you even if you were trying to hide it. Whether he admits it or not, he knows you better than you know yourself most days.

"I dinnae understand," Andy says with that gentle voice you recognize he uses with younger fans, like you’re a fragile thing inches from breaking. "That was our agreement? I don't… no strings love, that's what we said."

"Don't call me that." 

“Then don’t be cruel- what's going on?” Andy reaches for your wrist but you yank yourself away. The fingers that brush your skin feel like a brand, marking you as his property without any sort of reciprocal claim. 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Love-”

“I said stop calling me that!”

Your desperate shout rings through the room, stunning whatever response Andy was about to brew right off his tongue. He watches, shell shocked as you hastily pull on your shorts and search for your purse. You snatch your shoes and are halfway to the door before Andy’s tongue frees itself, “I dinnae understand. Are you saying this is over?”

You pause, looking over your shoulder. You memorize the confusion in his eyes, the way his eyebrows twitch together as he tries to understand. But if he hasn’t already figured it out, then he never will. You have to protect your heart, and if hurting Andy means keeping yourself safe, then it is what has to be done. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Andrew. Please don’t contact me outside work anymore. I’m professional enough that I won’t let this affect anything, but I’ll probably call on you less. It’ll be easier that way.”

“Easier for who?” You almost believe the crack in his voice is genuine. Almost, but not quite.

“For everyone,” you murmur as your heart breaks. “Me especially. Goodbye Andy- good luck at the qualifiers.”

**********

Goodbye Andy- good luck at the qualifiers. 

Your pain fills Andy's throat with broken glass. Days have gone by and he's not heard a word from you. He hasn't missed a message, or even a post on instagram- his phone has been glued to his palm since that morning after you walked out. He woke up to a cold bed and an empty heart, and the ache that has since settled in has taken the shape of you, but carries none of the same fervor. 

Some way, some how, Andy needs to put his loss aside. It's his fault anyway. You walked out because he was too scared to admit what he felt for you, and now he must live with the consequences of his own actions. Andy winces as the common phrase brings to mind all the tiktoks you sent him that used that sound with those words- would everything remind him of you?

“Andy, mate- what’s going on with you? You’re not yourself.”

Andy startles, forcing a plastic smile that he has become all too familiar with over the past week. “Sorry lad, had a rough couple of days before I flew out. I’ll be ready to lead us out on Sunday, don’t worry. I’m fit to play- just going through something.”

“You want tae talk about it?” Without waiting for an answer, Kieran sits at the bench adjacent to the one Andy currently occupies with his elbows resting on his knees. He pretends to adjust his imaginary glasses up his nose, poising his invisible pen over his palm. “Ready to analyze your thoughts and give my unasked for opinion on your troubles, skip.”

For the first time since you broke things off, Andy laughs. It's genuine and he hears the shutter of a camera from somewhere over his shoulder, but for a second he feels a sliver of himself shine through. “Nah mate it’s nothing big, just some troubles with a lass-”

“Oh, romance! My area of expertise… Who’s rejected you Robbo? I thought no woman was immune to your Scottish charm?”

“Well sure normally but this girl… She was different mate. Special.” Andy cannot bring himself to look at his friend as he says it. Andy hasn't heard from you since you walked out, which wouldn't worry him if he hadn't sent you a half a dozen messages asking to talk. 

Kieran straightens, all humor dissolved by Andy’s tone. “Oh you’re serious- why haven’t you told us about her then? You know what, it doesn’t matter,” Kieran immediately back tracks and waves a hand. “What’s gone on? Maybe talking it through will help.”

So Andy does, relaying all the small details he can remember. Which is a lot- he recalls the tear on your left cheek when you looked at him, the hitch in your voice when you said you would miss him. He should have just admitted it then, that he would miss you like an addict misses their dealer.

“I should have said something. Told her the truth but I- I was bloody terrified KT, I wasn’t sure how she would take it. And now she won’t respond to any of my messages, won’t answer my calls. I right fucked it, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Kieran sighs and smooths a hand over his hair. Andy prides himself on knowing his teammates, and he recognizes the gesture as one Kieran does when he’s strategizing. Normally it’s seen when standing over a free kick or holding a ball for a throw-in, and it’s… comforting to see his friend treating his problems with the same precision and care he normally saves for the pitch. 

“You know what I would do mate?” Andy shrugs, indicating for Kieran to continue. “Send her a plane ticket with her name on it, tell her to come up here for the match. No I’m serious- not like your pocket will feel the hit and you’ll know for sure where you stand. If she shows up, you can have a second chance, and if she doesn’t… then you have your closure.”

"Blindside her? Mate be serious," Andy says, shoulders shaking with a short laugh. That would never work. The way you looked at him when you were at the door was like you were cataloging each of his features. The sort of way someone does when they know they'll never see a person again. Thinking about it now shoots an arrow through Andy's chest. He rubs his sternum as if that will erase the actions that led to his heartache in the first place. 

"I cannae just send her a plane ticket. I'm pretty sure she's got me blocked anyway." Andy pulls out his phone to show Kieran the evidence. Two messages in your chat, both with 'sent' underneath them and not 'delivered'. 

Kieran tips his head side to side while he rolls words over his tongue. "It could be that her phone is off-"

"For three days?"

"Let me finish. It could be that her phone is off, or she's blocked you so she's not tempted to message you. Doesn't mean she hates you, just means she needs space. So buy the ticket, send it to her and ask her to come. If Monday rolls around and she's not opened it, I'll message her instead, she won't have blocked me."

Andy does just that, using the passport details he has saved in his frequent flier account to buy you the best ticket he can find for Tuesday. He sends you a screenshot and doesn't torture himself by checking whether or not it is delivered. 

**********

"This is the most absurd thing I've ever done. I should go home- am I really gonna get on this plane? I'm gonna go. I'm… gonna go?"

You stare yourself down in the mirror. You miss Andy more than you care to admit. You thought you'd be fine, able to slough off the hurt in a few days, but it's been over a week and your chest remains emptied out and hollow. You know what's missing, and things are finally lining up. If you go, you'll have your answer. Does Andy truly care, or is this some sort of elaborate scheme to win you back to his side?

"I'm gonna go," you say firmer than the first time. Worst case scenario, you win a free holiday in Spain. Best case… Andy admits you're more than just friends who occasionally sleep together. There isn't much more to it other than living with the eternal embarrassment of being rejected by a footballer. Then again, plenty of women live with that anyway.

You throw clothes into a suitcase- swimsuits, short skirts, cropped tops- hastily, having no time to fold them and prevent wrinkles. You debate taking the navy scotland kit Andy had given you to wear one night, mumbling something about having his name on your back being the ultimate turn on. You grab it anyway, shoving it to the bottom and forgetting about it almost instantly. 

"Right then, before I change my mind." 

It feels like something out of a fever dream when you walk through the airport. Boarding the plane is hazy, as is the shirt ride. You barely register the business class seat or the upgraded service that accompanies it; you're too busy using the complimentary wifi to catch up on all the scotland national team posts you've avoided since the break began. There's one shot in particular that you become stuck on: Andy's head tipped back, his mouth open, eyes squeezed shut as he cackles. You swear you can hear his laugh from here. 

When you touch down, you aren't exactly sure where to go. That is, until you check your messages from Kieran and find an address waiting for you. Upon arrival you're delighted to notice how normal the hotel seems compared to what you expected. Business people and families file in and out of the lobby, utterly nonplussed by their high profile guests. You guess that makes sense, considering that the Scottish boys are guests here. 

You give Andy's name at the front desk, and the petite blonde woman smiles softly at you. "He was nervous you wouldn't show. Sweet man," she says, her accent thick on the vowels. "Keep him around for sure." 

"Um… thanks? I'll just take the key."

"Shall I let him know-"

"No," you say quickly. The woman's eyebrows shoot up and she pauses, as surprised as you are by your quick refusal. "Um… I want it to be a surprise. I'm gonna show up at his match and see if he notices."

"Amor, trust me. He'll notice."

Two hours later you find yourself in the backseat of another Uber. The driver speaks no English so it's quiet, though you couldn't miss the man's pointed glance at the oversized navy jersey you currently wear. You weren't sure if it was too much but ultimately, did it matter? If Andy breaks your heart you can buy a Spain shirt and toss his in the trash.

When you stand outside the stadium, you're glad for the throng of fans that push in at every side. You're quite sure people heckle you for wearing enemy colors, but at least you can't understand a word they say. Someone bumps your shoulder but you don't move. The soles of your feet are glued to the cobblestones. They're sticky with tar when you move your limbs, climbing the steps as your ears ring.

There are a thousand and one ways this could go wrong. There's only one way this can go right. The odds are astronomically stacked against you. You've never been one to play the lottery but… you feel good about this gamble. 

Anonymously settled into the third row of the away fans, you absently wonder how much this single ticket costed. Though likely a drop in the bucket for Andy, it's likely more than you would ever dream of paying for something like this. You munch on snacks while you wait for kickoff, both excited and nervous to see Andy's face on the screen. 

And when the Scottish anthem plays, and the camera pans over Andy? Tears spring unbidden to your eyes. Pride wells in your chest, completely unfounded but also perfectly right. 

That's my Andy, you think to yourself.

You're mesmerized by the way he moves on the pitch. He commands his side with grace and elegance as they hunt for a goal that will put them on the scoresheet. Spain is not a throwaway opponent; the home side fights tooth and nail to keep a clean sheet, though Kepa simply cannot keep out the strike that comes from Dykes, crossed into the box by Andy. 

You erupt along with the entire away section. A beer splashes your arm but you're too caught up in Andy's brilliant smile as he celebrates with Lyndon. They stop in front of the Scottish fans, your voice lost in the roar of the crowd. 

See me, see me, see me- 

Andy's eyes skim over you. You are simply one face in a sea of thousands right now as the captain does his duty to celebrate with his countrymen and women. And for now, it is enough to see Andy happy.

The rest of the match is more of the same: Scotland dominates a sloppy, unkempt Spanish side that seems more adept to second tier football than European qualifiers. Andy keeps his side in line, captaining them to a second goal in the final minutes of regular time that Spain simply cannot find an answer to. When the final whistle blows, you worry you may lose your voice from how loudly you cheer. 

Slowly, fans in navy begin to file out as the Scotland lads make their rounds. They all wear various sizes and shapes of smiles, each as enthusiastic as the last. You climb over seat backs to make your way to the front, determined to be recognized now. You've come all this way and you'll be damned if Andy doesn't even get to see you in the stands. 

For a moment, you're worried he'll miss you. He laughs with Kieran, both lads over their moon with their dominance. It's Kieran who notices you first, his smile growing as he nudges his friend. You can read Andy's lips from here, hold on I'm not done, but Kieran grips Andy's chin and forces his head towards you.

When Andy's eyes meet yours, you're floating. Your feet move of their own accord, leaping over the barrier and ducking the arm of the security guard whilst Andy shouts for him to let you through. You meet in the middle, slamming into Andy's sweaty chest. He lifts you off your feet, shoulders nearly crushed in his embrace. 

Your laughs mingle. Your head spins when Andy sets you down again. He shakes his head, hands under your jaw to tip your face towards him, thumbs running under your eyes like he cannot believe you're here. 

"Guess I owe Kieran ten quid." 

"Not yet you don't mate," Kieran chimes in. "Bet was she flies over and that she kisses you." 

You shrug then, laying your hands on Andy's chest. You trace random shapes, looking up through your lashes to meet his eyes, "ball is in his court there. I can't kiss him, not yet at least. He's gotta make some changes first."

Andy grins, his hands settling on your hips. He can't seem to get enough of you, not that you can blame him. You're the same, wanting to kiss him so badly your entire body aches. 

"She cannae kiss me cause I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend yet. But now that I'm asking, maybe she will-"

You surge up to kiss him before he's finished, letting your mouth answer him without speaking a word. Andy's arms wind around your middle to pull you flush, deepening the kiss by sliding his tongue over your lips. Despite the fans and the staff and players watching you let him, desperate as you are to show him what he means to you. 

Andy breaks away to fight for breath. You both laugh, comfortable and happy despite a very spontaneous, very hard launch in a very public way. 

"I love you," Andy murmurs. Something in your heart springs free. "I'm never going to make the mistake of walking away again."

"At least I didn't fly out here for nothing then. I love you too."  

[ts1m1kas]

Football Masterlist:

requests are open !!

FC BARCELONA:

Pablo Gavi:

Jealous Gavi

Gavi x Shy!Reader

Gavi Angst

Sergio's Niece

Comforting Gavi

Barcelona's Intern

Pedri Gonzales:

Jealous Pedri

REAL MADRID:

Jude Bellingham:

Childhood friends to Lovers

Real Madrid Women's

Jude Angst to fluff

Christmas Proposal

Dedicated Goal

Messi's Daughter

Gavi’s Twin Sister

Club Drama

Proposal of Business

Love in the Right Places

Protective!Jude

Fiancée and Footballer

Behind Closed Doors

Family Introductions (coming soon !)

Aurelien Tchouameni:

Quiet

PARIS SAINT GERMAIN:

Kylian Mbappe:

Jealous Kylian

BAYERN MUNICH:

Jamal Musiala:

Unjustified Anger

Brother's Best Friend

Musical Genius

Comfort

Just Colleagues

Musical Romance

Work Day Nightmare

Hidden Feelings

Lazy Day

Unprofessional Interviews

Bali Daydream

The Art of Proposing

League Celebrations

Post-Pregnancy Blues (coming soon !)

EINTRACHT FRANKFURT:

Robin Koch:

Euro Separation

Euro Separation Part 2

RB LEIPZIG:

Xavi Simons:

First Game Nerves

LIVERPOOL FOOTBALL CLUB:

Virgil Van Dijk:

Virgil Fluff

Kostas Tsimikas:

Kostas' Birthday

Photographer!Reader x Kostas

Secret Wife

Hometown Romance

Andrew Robertson:

Andrew's Injury

Milner's Matchmaking

Ultrasounds of Love

Trent Alexander-Arnold:

Trent Angst to Fluff

Trent Sickfic

Dominik Szoboszlai:

Honeymoon Stage

Blind Date

Alisson Becker:

Difficult Parents

MANCHESTER CITY FOOTBALL CLUB:

Erling Haaland:

Clingy Erling

International Break & It's consequences

Erling's busy schedule

Post Match Glory

Norwegian Mornings

MANCHESTER UNITED FOOTBALL CLUB:

Mason Mount:

Long Lost Lovers

[melanieph321]

Dominik Szoboszlai x Reader - The Double Date Part 2/2

Part 1

Reader unwillingly joins her best friend on a double date with Andy Robertson and Dominik Szoboszlai.

Enjoy!

"Now, why did you have to tell Dominik that you had a boyfriend?"

You arrived at the crowded rooftop bar. Lexi, immediately pulling you aside.

"Because I do."

"No, you don't." She chuckled. "We've been over this."

"The guy is a dickhead Alexandra. It's better that I astablish some boundaries before he tries to hit on me."

"Right, and when exactly do you think that will happen? The two of you have barely spoken a word to each other."

"Because his a dickhead."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. Maybe he is. But I'm really trying to hit it off with Andy, but if he sees that you and Dominik aren't getting along...."

"Okay, okay." You sighed. "I got it, I'll play nice."

"That's all I ask." She kissed your cheek and strutted over to Andy, who stood chatting with a friend. A lot of known faces were encountered at the Gallaway. It was a nice place. Known for its expensive alcohol and wild nightlife. But nothing beat the view. You let the cool breeze stir your hair as you moved to the balcony railing. Liverpool at night was truly breathtaking.

"It's nice, no?"

"Dominik?" You turned in suprise, not expecting him to find you and not the other way around.

"The view." He smiled. It's nice, no?"

You look back over the city. "It really is."

A comfortable silence came then about, lasting longer than you wanted. Then Dominik moved closer to you, leaning in for you to hear him over the music. "It takes a while to get a drink from the bar. Do you want me to go ahead and order for you?"

"Erm...sure. That would be great, actually. A redbull vodka, please. Make that a double shot."

He made a sound under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He grinned.

"Just fucking say it Dominik, we're both adults."

He chuckled. "Y/N, It's really nothing. I guess I expected you to have a fancier taste, that's all."

"Well, are you the one paying for the drinks?"

"....maybe"

"I guess I'll have a glass of Moët then."

"And two shots of Grey Goose?"

You frowned.  "Two shots?"

"Yes, one for me and one for you." He winked, leaving you a bit dumbfounded as he made his way through the crowded balcony. It left you with the sudden urge to check on your makeup. However, that's when a pair of heels rushed towards you, ambushing you from behind.

"God, Lexi. What's gotten into you?

She looked pale and breathless from her little run. "He's here." She panted.

"Who is here?"

"Mike."

"What?"

"Yes, and he's here with another girl."

Most of the rage had left you once you made it through the crowded rooftop. But then you spotted your boyfriend with his arm around another girls waist, his mouth nibbling at her ear, and the rage that welled up inside of you was quickly replaced by something heavy, almost unbearable "Whatta hell, Mike?"

He froze at the sound of your voice. It took him a second to spot you in the midst of the crowd. And as his arm let go of the girls' waist, you felt a presence beside you other than Lexi and Andy's. It was Dominik, back with your drinks. He was back just in time to witness the most humiliating moment of your life.

"Y/N, I can explain." Mike made his way over to you, wearing the clean cut suit that you gifted him for his birthday just last month.

"She's just a friend right?" You said, watching the woman that stood awkwardly in the back. You knew it would be her, it was always her. Mike's best friend from medical school. The one he always made excuses for, even if it meant missing a date night. Or that time you needed help moving out of your apparment. Even tonight. A Friday night that you should've spent with your boyfriend instead of chaperoning your best friends double date.

"Look, can we speak for a moment." He said. "...in private."

"No way buddy." Lexi stepped forward.

"I wasn't talking to you was I?"

"Hey man..." Andy put a hand on Mike's chest for him to step off.

"Y/N, who are these people?"

You felt a tug at your arm, Dominik, with his hand around your wrist. You turned to him and saw the expression on his face, one that you only recognize from the football pitch.

"Y/N, please. Let me take you home and we can talk about this."

"No, Mike."

"What?"

Your voice was frail, but you spoke through the pain. "I said no."

"You heard her buddy, she's staying with us."

"Andy, please." Lexi said. Like you, she saw the look in Mike's eyes, realizing that the situation was escalating into something....toxic.

"Fuck, this." He groaned. "Let's go—" He reached for your arm, however that's when he noticed Dominik's grip around it.

"Huh, what's this now?" His eyebrows furrowed but quickly faltered when he realized....."Szoboszlai?" He was a fan, but Dominik didn't seem to care as his grip around your hand tightened, much like the expression on his face. "Let's go." He muttered.

"What?"

He turned to you, nodding his head. "I'll take you home. Let's go."

"O...okay."

"The hell you are."

"Andy!" Lexi shouted as he threw himself towards Mike, who initially threw himself at you. Luckily, Dominik was quick to pull you to stand behind him. What unfolded next could have been a disaster hadn't it been for the bouncers, grabbing Mike and escorting him away from the rooftop, towards the escalators.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Lexi asked.

You were brought to sit at the table, but you struggled to express how you felt right in that moment. "I...I think I'm just gonna go home."

"Of course." Lexi nodded. "We'll take you home right now."

"No, please. Stay. I don't want to ruin your date."

"It's a double date, love." Andy said, his smile mending your heart. "We'll all leave together."

"That's very sweet of you Andy but I really don't want—"

"I'll take her."

"... impose." It was the second time in the span of few minutes that Dominik had managed to scrap all previous assumptions that you had about him.

"I'll take her. You guys keep having a great night." He said and basically dragged you away from the crowd towards the escalators. You shifted your head once you were out on the street, worring about bumping into Mike. Dominik kind on the other hand, paced himself by walking back and forth as if he was trying to calm himself down or something.

"Hey, it's okay." You said, approching him.

He shook his head for you not to touch him, at least for that split second when he looked to have the ability to flip the nearest car onto its roof.

"I just fucking hate guys like that." He said, claming down a bit.

"Cheaters?"

He looked to you, a sly smile on his lips. "Nah, dickheads. They ruin everything."

"I agree." You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm.

"I'm sorry. Give me a second. I'll call us an Uber."

Dominik was quick to make the call for an Uber, and soon a car pulled up to the sidewalk where you stood. Dominik held the door open for you and let the driver drop you off near a kebab joint not too far from your address.

"You need to eat." He said. And just the way he said it, with such authority, made it impossible for you to protest.

Dominik ended up ordering you a lot of food. You invited him up to your apartment to share it with you. However, he hesitated as the two of you lingered on the streets below.

"The food is for you, not me." He smiled.

"I'll feel like a piece of shit eating all of this food by myself."

"Don't. Your ex-boyfriend is the one who should feel like a piece of shit."

You chuckled. It was a very sweet thing of him to say. He was all around sweet to you compared to the beginning of the night. You wondered why that was.

"It was nice meeting you Y/N, have a good night."

"Dominik?" You stopped him from leaving.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry for this double date thing. I know I was a bit moody at the start, but that's only because my friend really wanted me to come with her even though she knew about Mike. Although she was probably right about him being toxic. Still, I didn't listen to her and ended up ruining the entire night."

He smiled. A brimming smile, showing off his immaculately white teeth. "It's okay. I only came to make sure my friend Andy wasn't being set up by yet another girl. He's a really good guy, you know. But terrible with women. I told him not to take you guys to that arcade. I mean, what guy invites beautiful girls to play video games?"

"I assume you know what girls want then?"

He smirked. "Nah, everybody's different. Some of them prefer staying home, posting terrible songs on Tiktok."

"I've never—"  It suddenly hit you. The reason for his mood at the beginning of the night.

Oh, God. Oh god.

He's heard it.

Of course he's heard it, as fans were singing it all last season.

Dommy Dommy, sat on a wall. Dommy Dommy had a great fall.....

"Humpty Dumpty, eh?"

"Dominik, I'm so sorry."

"I thought fans would be more sympathetic to their injured players. But then I see a song go viral about two girls referring to me as an egg. An egg?"

You chuckled. "I really am sorry, Dominik. Lexi and I were just having a laugh. It's kind of our thing."

"Yeah, I got that."

Wait, so you knew who I was before meeting me? But that means that Andy—"

"Like I said," Dominik smiled. "He's a really good guy, who likes your friend."

"Well, good thing she likes him too then."

"Does that mean we'll be seeing more of each other?" He asked, hands on his hips.

"Yes." You nodded. "For sure. We might as well start bonding now. Over all of this food, for example."

He laughed but saw you struggling with the heavy bag containing all of it. "Fine. But no singing."

"Dommy, Dommy sat on a wall...."

"I'm serious."

You laughed all the way up to your apartment. Perhaps double dating wasn't so bad after all.

Part 1

[jsprnt]

you’re pretty upset when you spot your husband not wearing his ring in a recent video

andrew robertson x reader

A/N: a tricky one, but I think I made it work ;) thank you for requesting!

W/C: 1.427

a wedding ring

to some, it’s a tangible object that is meant to symbolize the unification of two people. to others, a ring wasn't that much of importance, even paper rings would suffice to signify the love two individuals have for each other.

you were part of the first group. you had never even dreamed of taking the rock off your finger. the only exception being when you needed to get your hands dirty when cooking up some delicious food.

of course, the glimmering diamond on your ring finger was absolutely breathtaking. carefully chosen by your husband. suited exactly to your personal style and taste.

it was something you also tried to do for him. you didn't want to gift him a boring, silver wedding band, bland and basic. so, you'd visited multiple different jewelers until you found the right one.

then, imagine how pissed off you are when you're scrolling on your phone, only to see a video of your husband not wearing his ring during a recent press conference concerning his upcoming match.

you glance down at your own wedding ring, getting more and more irritated by the second.

your husband wasn't even home from training yet, which allowed your anger to boil up ever more, because you couldn’t ask him about it immediately.

you finally turn your phone off, grumbling to yourself, and get up to do some last minute work around the house. it was your turn to make dinner tonight. safe to say those vegetables were chopped too finely due to the fury you couldn’t contain.

andrew usually came home right on time for dinner. so, you decide to eat dinner early, just to interact less with him.

you were being petty, but you felt like him not wearing his wedding ring shouldn't go unpunished.

the front door opens half an hour later, your husband calling out to you from the entrance.

you ignore him, too focused on washing the dishes you used, to answer him, knowing it would become a childish argument.

"sweetheart? are you home?" he calls out, the confusion in his voice audible. you can hear him zip his jacket off, and the jingling of his keys, which he hangs up on the little sculpture you bought to spruce up the entrance.

again, you refuse to answer. drying the washed dishes with the gray kitchen towel and placing them back in the cupboard.

"bonnie?"

you try to ignore the sweet scottish nickname he loved using, too focused on cleaning up.

you can hear some footsteps come closer, his shoes paddling against the gray floorboards.

you decide to turn around when you can feel how close he is. watching his arm reach over to bring you into a tight embrace. though, you move right on time to avoid his touch. escaping from underneath his arms.

he gasps, brows furrowing at your sudden behavior. you were fine this morning, happy as ever, only a little sad about him leaving so early for training.

so, why would you be avoiding his hugs, let alone his touch?

"love, what's wrong?" he asks, trying to analyze your facial expression.

"nothing.." you mumble, avoiding eye contact. your arms folded defensively.

"do you want a hug?" he asks, wondering if you need comfort. he inches closer, but you decide that to be petty - so you shake your head.

"that involves physical contact, and that's gross, so no." you deadpan, words harsh and stubborn.

‘gross?’ he thinks, frowning at your choice of words.

"eat dinner, table's set.." you add, voice quiet.

you immediately turn away, sulking when you catch glimpse of your ring again.

you can hear him call out to you, but you keep on walking up the stairs and step into your bedroom. maybe the comfort of the soft pillows and firm mattress will help instead.

"love, can you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads, hand stopping you from closing the door.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, sighing while looking at him.

"just give me a moment.." you state, his eyes warm up, realizing you probably wanted a minute to yourself to sort your thoughts out.

"okay, I'll have dinner then..I’m going to come back later..." his voice is soft, just like how he speaks to you when you're crying over something or are feeling particularly down on dark, cloudy days.

guilt immediately creeps up on you. maybe you were being too petty and rude?

no, you always wear your ring- why wouldn't he?

you close the door in his face, shuffling to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.

all different types of thoughts go through your head. were you too dramatic, or were you rightfully upset? was this approach even a good one?

it doesn't take too much time, as you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you shift and turn, sitting up in bed.

"come in.." you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers.

andy steps inside slowly, his eyebrows raising at the sight of your defeated-looking figure.

"bonnie.." he begins, getting into the bed next to you.

"we're literally married. if you're angry at me, just tell me.." he says, hand reaching to carefully touch your hand. eyes on your face to detect any irritation or sadness on your face.

you look up at him when he grips your hand, his bigger hands entangled with yours. your eyes flicker around, finally making eye contact with him.

he can practically read all of the emotions you hold in your eyes after all these years together.

"won't you tell me, sweetheart? are you angry?"

he encourages, thumb running over your knuckles.

"yes, I’m angry- is that what you want to know?"

"about what?"

you sigh, a little embarrassed now.

"you love me, right?"

you notice the confusion and surprise on your husband's face, he starts nodding the moment the question leaves your mouth.

"of course, I love you.. with every part of my being.." he whispers, leaning in closer.

"then why did I see a video of you not wearing your ring?" you confront, facial expression hardening. 

"what are you talking about?"

you grab your phone off the nightstand, showing him the evidence that had you spiraling for the past hour or two.

"bonnie.." he begins, a chuckle leaving his lips.

you almost lash out at him when he laughs. was your sadness funny to him?

"come 'ere.." he urges, patting his lap. you eye him for a moment, but don’t fight back when he pulls you onto his lap.

"listen to me, ye?"

you nod, waiting to hear his explanation.

"remember when we talked about our wedding rings last month?"

you nod, tilting your head in confusion.

"and don't you remember me telling you I had to get mine cleaned?" he asks, thumb making soft and soothing circles on your knee.

you freeze, heat from embarrassment creeping up on your face. you groan, covering your face with your hands, moving your head away.

"hey, look at me, ye?" he says, trying to pry your hands away from your face.

"there's my love's precious face.." he coos, grinning softly at your cute behavior.

he raises his hand, showing off the wedding band that is clearly on his finger.

"you know, I wear it all the time except for training and during matches. if I was allowed to wear it I would..” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.

"I wear mine constantly, just like you do. it's as important to me, as it is to you. you got that?" he asks, running his hand down your back.

you hum, feeling silly and stupid for fretting over something so easily explained away.

"I'm sorry, kind of stupid of me to assume.." you trail off, looking into his brown eyes.

"it's alright, I understand the confusion, but please just ask me about something that’s bothering you, before you start to ignore me?"

you nod, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"I will, I'll ask you before assuming.."

he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your head. the sound makes his chest rumble, in turn, you feel the vibrations on your cheek.

your husband would do anything to please his partner. so, don't you be surprised the next time he comes home with a tattoo on his ring finger.

yes, the needle pressing against the bone of his knuckle hurt like a bitch. but, if it meant he could ease your mind and wear a symbol of his love for you 24/7. he would do it without hesitation.

[live-laugh-loverpool]

sooooooo asking for a fic

does robbo have any siblings? if so, how many? older, younger, or a mix of both?

[coyidk]

Christmas Fic!!

"Mohamed, Andy and Harvey have a special Christmas tree. That's all :)"

thank you to @lychiism and @anfieldroad for helping me :)

[sopranicc]

finally opened up a tumblr just to support my fanfics haha

a jarell quansah x conor bradley work, featuring virgson being jarell's dads, robbotrent trying (and failing) to be conor's dads, and guest appearances from harvalho

aka 5 times conor tries to confess to jarell, and the one time jarell does

aka 8.5k words of pining

aka i wish more people wrote about them so i made this jokesfest to cope

[stormoflina]

"Dominik was pissed off. It was a Sunday night, a whole day after the match against Everton, and yet here he was, spending the entire day alone, checking if his comment under Trent's post was liked by the scouser or not."

Dominik is confronted with a brand new feeling: jealousy. He doesn't handle it well.

[playkook]

[dinosaur-stickers]

help guys in the chaotic covid chat

[football-and-fanfics]

Headache - Andy Robertson

Who: Andy Robertson Prompt: "It feels like my head is going to explode." Notes with request: headache on the bus with team back home. Requested by: anonymous Word count: 489 Warnings: mentions of having a headache (implied migraine).

Andy knew he might have pushed himself a bit too hard during the match, but it was what was needed of the whole team during this difficult away match. And it had paid off. They had eventually won the match rather comfortably, but it left Andy completely exhausted and with a raging headache.

He hoped the headache would pass once he'd had a little nap during the bus ride back to Liverpool, but Andy found it hard to catch sleep. He'd slouched down as low in his seat as possible, the hood of his hoodie pulled over his head as far as it would go, and ear buds in without any music on to shield his aching head from as much of the sounds in the bus. Andy only vaguely registered someone sat down beside him, but he couldn't even get himself to open his eyes to see who it was.

"Are you alright, Robbo?" The person next to Andy finally spoke after a few minutes. It turned out to be Virgil. "No," Andy groaned, "it feels like my head is going to explode." "Thought something like that." Virgil sounded serious. "You're shielding from the light and sounds, and you're moaning in pain with every move this bus makes."

Virgil was right. Every jostle of the bus hurt Andy's head, but he hadn't realized that he had audibly made the sounds of discomfort. Andy opened one eye just enough to be able to glance at his captain. Where Virgil was known as a joker around the team, he now looked back at Andy dead-serious and concerned.

"You are really not looking good," Virgil commented. Andy wanted to shake his head, but the mere thought of that hurt, so he opted for a pained hum instead. "Maybe I can do something about that." Virgil frowned thoughtfully. "Don't move." "Wasn't planning on," Andy mumbled.

Virgil stood up from his seat and disappeared to the front of the bus. Andy closed his eyes again. He didn't know what Virgil had in mind, and he absolutely did not have the strength to go and find out.

Virgil reappeared a few minutes later, carrying several items in his arms. "Lucky for you." He sat down in his seat next to Andy again. "I saw one of the doctors getting onto our bus." Andy slowly opened his eyes. He found Virgil holding out two painkillers, a bottle of water and an ice pack to him. "Down the painkillers," Virgil instructed, "and an ice pack to the forehead or neck should also help with the discomfort. Or, at least, so I'm told."

Andy gratefully took the painkillers and downed them in one swallow. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "And some sleep should help, too," Virgil finished.

Andy snuggled into the warmth of his hoodie, waiting for the blissful relief the painkillers would hopefully give him. "Sweet dreams," Virgil chuckled. Andy hummed softly. "I sure hope so."

Request an imagine Andy Robertson masterlist | Full writing masterlist

[yellowkitkieran]

Summer Getaway (Andy Robertson)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Andy has been far too wrapped up in wanting to win the Euros with Scotland, and you feel neglected. Luckily, he has a surprise up his sleeve.

If there's one thing you want in this world, it's the cuddles of one extra warm, always comforting, ever loving, Andrew Robertson. Only problem is, while you've spent the last twenty minutes curled up in your warm, fluffy comforter, he's spent them on the phone with his teammates. 

"All I want is to make it to the Euros. After that, then we can see about a World Cup." 

Famous last words of your overachieving husband. 

You swear you've not seen Andy train this hard since you were in secondary school. He leaves at the crack of dawn and cokes home after dark six days of the week. You aren't even sure his primary focus is Liverpool at this point- he's using their gym equipment and playing on their team, sure, but every night it's late night calls to Kieran and McGinn to check in instead of going out with Trent and Virgil. 

Honestly, you love his devotion. But it's also becoming slightly annoying, considering you've not properly had any fun in a week.

You roll over onto your elbows with a sigh, perfecting your pout before calling, "Andrew! Come to bed and kiss me or lose me forever." 

Andy puts his hand over his phone, still cradled to his ear. He looks you over, notes the tshirt of his that you're wearing, and visibly struggles to keep his head on straight. "One second babe, I'm just finishing up- no I'm not calling you babe, you bloody idiot!" 

"Andyyyyyyy…."

The only thing that saves your husband is the way your gaze snags on his wedding ring as he paces, not the charming smile he shoots you. "Just a minute, love. I swear I'll be right there." You know he misses you as much as you miss him. It's just a matter of making time for each other. He still ensures you get a few minutes together each night before bed, but lately that hasn't felt like enough.

You sigh and throw yourself back against the pillows, your good mood slowly ebbing away. You miss your husband more than words can describe. He's standing three meters in front of you but he feels oceans away. 

Finally, you hear the words you've been waiting for, "see you mate," followed by the chime accompanying his phone being plugged in. You feel like a giddy child waiting to be handed an ice cream cone as you anticipate his arrival. Andy's weight dips the bed beside you, his arm coming to rest around your waist as his lips find their way beneath your jaw. It's his own way of apologizing for taking so long. 

"You're buttering me up," you mumble, trying your damnedest not to let it work. But Andy knows you well enough that a handful of well placed kisses already has you melting against his broad chest. You can't help it. The warmth of him is too much to resist, too comforting and homey.

"I love you," Andy says with another soft kiss to your temple, "more than I love the game, or the lads. I would give it all up if you asked me to. You know that." 

You sigh, tapping Andy's wrist so he'll loosen his hold and allow you to turn and face him. Your nose bumps his, his brown eyes serious even as they sparkle in the soft light of your bedroom. "I know you would, and you know I love you too much to ever let you do that. I just miss you. And yes I know you've been home as often as you can be, especially lately. It's just-"

"You miss me," Andy finishes with a suggestive smirk, proving just how well he knows you. You blush when he hums, then leans forward to press a soft, yet still passionate, kiss to your pouted lips. "I know you do, love. I miss your gorgeous curves as well! The weekend is only a few days away, and not to spoil the surprise, but-"

"Don't even tell me you're going out with the lads," you interrupt with an annoyed groan. You're not surprised he hasn't mentioned it earlier, considering he'd be verbally ripped to pieces for leaving you on an off weekend yet again. 

Andy only laughs, swinging his leg over your hips and bracing his forearms on either side of your head, now hovering above you. You blink hard, trying to clear the sinful thoughts gathering in your head. Andy's toothy grin tells you he picks up on the hitch in your breathing. His satisfied hum also further cements his observation, as well as the growing desire gathering in your belly.

"Let me finish, will you? I swear that habit of interrupting me any time I speak is going to get you nowhere." Andy waits until you nod and stop squirming to continue, "as I was saying- this surprise involves you, me, and a villa somewhere secret- tickets are already booked and our cute little plane is all chartered and ready."

"A private plane? Bear you didn't," you mumble, using your favorite nickname for him as you throw your arms around his neck to crush him in a hug. Your mind is already swirling with what you could get up to on a private plane and you're sure Andy's thought of some very similar things. "God I love you… like really, it's just gonna be us?"

"You, me, the pilot, and one flight attendant yeah. We can get up to as much trouble as we want. I picked one of the nice fancy ones with a bed for cuddles and all. Only the best for my favorite girl-" 

"Wait, Gal Gadot, your number one crush, is coming too? No wayyyy!" You laugh when Andy rolls his eyes. To be fair, he's probably sick of you teasing him about his celebrity crush, but that won't stop you from doing it. "Hold on, I need to know where we're going, though. I need to know what to pack!"

Andy tips his head back and laughs, pressing his hips to yours. "Nothing- you only need the carryon love, and I'll pack it for you. I already know exactly what I'll bring for you… a few of my favorite lacy sets, maybe a swimsuit if you're lucky… but I could just make you skinny dip- now that would be fun!"

You smack Andy's arm, though you wouldn't be opposed to any of that considering how long it's been since you've slept together, "Andy I need more than that just for my makeup- it won't even fit!"

"I'll make it fit darlin', that's a promise." Andy's roguish grin sends a delightful shiver down your spine, as does his hard on now pressing at your hip. Your minds are one and the same- you'd rip his clothes off right now if you weren't set on making him wait. You'll make the most of your weekend getaway, no matter what distant seaside village he whisks you off to. 

"So what I'm thinking is that I pack a bunch of long sleeves and jeans, yeah? Shouldn't need anything else, and I mean you wouldn't want me to get burned. You too- just pack all the modest clothes from your closet, cover up that fair Scottish skin of yours. No one wants a tomato red left back, after all." 

"Oi, my skin isn't that bad!" Andy's brows pull together. Coupled with his frown, it's the most endearing thing you have ever seen. Planting your hands on his cheeks, you pull him down to you for a wet, sloppy, much needed kiss.

"You're bloody lucky you're good at distracting me," Andy mumbles against your mouth, tongue flicking past your parted lips for one last taste of your minty breath, "Because if you weren't, I'd be upset by that comment. But you're cute, and you're a half decent kisser, and you look bloody amazing in my Liverpool kit-"

"And your hoodies!"

"Dammit woman shut your mouth-" a smile plays on Andy's own when he tips his head to try kissing you again, though you dodge him with ease. 

"You like it open! I know you do cause then it usually means I'm on my knees-" 

Andy silences you with a forceful kiss that you gratefully return. You've missed the banter, these simple little stolen moments with the man you love. They're few and far between, and you cherish them whenever you stumble into them. 

"Maybe I do. All I know is, this weekend you'll be quiet one way or another."

Andy only laughs when you smack his chest with the force of a butterfly. One thing is for certain: this weekend will be one for the memory books. 

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: would love to see him and a pregnant!reader (anonymous)

Word Count: 504 words

(author's note: I kinda hate the ending, but i was struck with inspiration and just had to write it !! i hope you enjoy nevertheless 🫶)

As a little girl, Y/N had always wondered what her life would be like in the future. Would she fall in love? Would she get married? Would she have children? But as she sat in the cramped hospital waiting room with her doting husband by her side, she knew that she had gotten everything she wanted.

��Mrs Robertson?” Y/N looked up at the call of her name. Andrew stood up and helped her to her feet, a task that had become more difficult for her every day her pregnancy furthered along.

As the pair got situated in the ultrasound room, a nurse came in with some papers in her hand. She sat down at her computer and began typing up some information.

“Sorry, I won’t be too much longer,” She said apologetically.

“No rush, take your time,” Y/N replied.

Although she had been for many ultrasounds throughout her pregnancy, part of her was still nervous every time. Sensing his wife’s discomfort, Andy grabbed Y/N’s hand gently and stroked her skin with his thumb. The silent gesture not only calmed Y/N’s nerves but also reassured her that her husband was always there to soothe her.

“Right then, how are you, Mrs Robertson? Has everything been okay?”

“Yes, everything’s been fine. No problems as far as I’m aware.”

“Perfect, let's get you up on the bed so we can have a look at your baby.”

Y/N moved up onto the bed, the protective paper crinkling as she sat down. Y/N lifted her top up, exposing her rounded belly to the nurse.  Although she expected the coldness of the gel, she still flinched every time. 

“Sorry, I know it's not nice.”

Y/N laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

Andrew moved to stand next to Y/N, his eyes peering over at the small screen curiously. Everyone knew that Andy was destined to be a father. So, when Y/N had told him she was pregnant, he was over the moon.

As the nurse moved the ultrasound wand around on Y/N’s stomach, the picture on the screen shifted until their tiny baby was visible in black and white. The pair exchanged a look, the love for their unborn baby was mutual and incredibly obvious.

Andy grasped his wife’s hand again, overcome with emotions he had never felt before. After the nurse had finished her examination, she wiped the gel residue from Y/N’s stomach and allowed her to pull her shirt down.

“Everything looks okay to me, have you got your next appointment booked in?”

Y/N nodded, and the nurse let them out of the room after exchanging goodbyes. As the pair made their way through the labyrinth of winding corridors in the hospital, Andy didn’t stop talking once about their baby.

“You’ve given me the best thing I could ever dream of.”

Once the couple were sitting in their car, finally ready to head home, Andrew turned to Y/N. His eyes were full of adoration for Y/N as he said;

[melanieph321]

Dominik Szoboszlai x Reader - The Double Date Part 1/2

Part 2

Reader unwillingly joins her best friend on a double date with Andy Robertson and Dominik Szoboszlai.

Enjoy!

"Hurry Y/N, we're gonna be late!"

"Yeah, late for a double date at an arcade. How will I recover?"

"Ha ha, very funny. Just pipe down on the sarcasm when we meet up with the guys. Believe it or not, but I really like this one."

"Anything for my bestie."

You were surprised. Crashing a date was not included in your plans this friday evening. But apparently, your best friend, Lexi, met some guy at a football game a couple of weeks ago, and the two of them have been texting ever since. However, when it came around for them to meet, Lexi kept putting off the date for no reason. Your offer to chaperone was the only thing standing in her way of chickening out again.

"So....what do you want me to do exactly, linger in the background the entire date?"

"No, that would be creepy. It's a double date Y/N, ergo two guys and two girls."

"But I have a boyfriend."

Lexi laughed. "Please, Y/N. If you call your situationship with Mike a healthy relationship, I don't wanna know what you think I toxic one is."

"Hey, Mike is not toxic. He's a great guy, soon to be a doctor, actually. It's the only reason he's been so cold to me lately. He's stressed about school."

Lexi slowed down the strides of her heels, matching your pace. She did so, grabbing your hand. "I know Mike's a good guy, Y/N. But you two together....I don't know."

"What?"

"I mean, is he really your type? You're the total opposite. He's so sophisticated and fancy, and you are....well, you are....."

"Yes?"

"You're cool, Y/N." She blurred out. "You're cool and fun to be around. Mike, on the other hand, is so uptight. And he said my shoes were cheap."

You rolled your eyes. "I see you're still on about that."

"Cheap Y/N. He called my Saint Laurent that I spend two months' salary on, cheap. CHEAP! Just because I bought a pair from last season."

"Okay, okay. I admit that sometimes he can be a bit blunt and snobby. But he is definitely my type."

"You mean rich?"

"Yes, rich. I like 'em rich."

The two of you laughed all the way to the arcade. You arrived about ten minutes late and had to search for the guys who were already inside. You prayed that your date was at least cute.

"There they are!" Lexi pointed to the punshing bag machine surrounded by two guys, one of them getting ready to take a swing.

"Andy!" Lexi waved.

The guy standing by, holding a drink, turned around and met the two of you with the broadest smile. "Lexi, you made it!"

"No way." You chuckled.

"Be nice." She muttered.

The guy approached you and went straight in for a hug, even you got a hug.

"You ladies look gorgeous. Let me buy you drink."

"That's so sweet Andy, thank you."

You struggled to hold it in. Lexi gave you a stern look to hold it until her date had made it to the bar. She then gave you thirty seconds to burst out in laughter, gagging like you've never gagged before.

"Yes, yes, very funny. Are you done now?"

"Andy Robertson." You laughed, holding your stomach. "How on earth did you bag Andy, Robo, Robertson?"

It wasn't much dating a Liverpool player that tickled your soul. Lexi was gorgeous and well connected through her father's financial successes. A lot of famous men have been interested in dating her, including several professional athletes. But to throw Andy, Robo, Robertson, a bone  out of all those men, was simply outrageous to you. And quite hysterical.

"Will you stop it." She whispered.

"But...."

"And no mentioning of our nickname for him."

"Why?"

"Erm....because it's racist?"

"Lexi." You stopped and stared at her. "Calling someone, Groundkeeper Robo Robertson, is not racist."

"If you're Scottish it is."

"It's just a character from The Simpsons. Who doesn't like The Simpsons?"

Just then, Andy was seen returning from the bar. "I see you two ladies haven't met my friend yet. Come, let me introduce ya!"

You were quick to wipe your tears while Lexi's date took you to your table. It was right next to the punshing bag machine where a man stood clenching his sore knuckles.

"Dom, meet the girls. Girls meet my friend Dominik."

Again, no way, you thought. It was Dominik Szoboszlai, as cute as ever, dressed for a casual night out with....well, you.

"Hi." He smiled and shook your hands.

"This is the girl I was talking about." Andy said, and proudly but respectfully draped an arm around Lexi's shoulder. "This is her friend..."

"Y/N." You smiled.

Dominik looked you up and down, a flash of something curious in his eyes. But then, just like that, it disappeared.

"How about some games?" Andy suggested. "Since we're all here now."

"Yay!" Lexi cheered but ended up sucking at every game you played. You weren't doing very well yourself, but that was only because your opponent, Dominik, played against you as if his life dependended on it.

"Fuck, my nail!" You winced as his shot during Air Hockey ended up breaking the tip.

"Sorry." He shrugged. His attitude was quite shitty throughout the whole night.

"I'm going to the bathroom." You said, grabbing your purse.

"I'll come with you." Lexi offered, perhaps aware of your newfound mood.

"So...how are thinks going with Dominik, he's cute right?"

"He's a dickhead." You turned to the bathroom mirror, applying more gloss to your lips.

"Is he?"

"Yes. I wanna leave."

"But Y/N, you promised..."

"Honestly, Lexi, I don't see why I had to come along in the first place. Robo— I mean Andy... seems like a genuinely nice guy. I'm still curious about how you met him at the Liverpool game with your dad. Wasn't he on the pitch, playing?"

"It was after the game." She sighed. "And yes, he is really nice. The only problem, I guess, is all the songs we've made up about him."

"Right, the songs."

You had made-up songs about most players in Liverpool. As fans, you and Lexi loved doing it. It was sort of your thing. People on TilTik loved you for it.

"Yeah. Andy and I had a laugh about it, but now I just feel sort of guilty for the one we made about him and Groundkeeper Wille."

"Well, if he thinks it's funny I don't really see the problem."

"I guess you're right."

"I am. Now, get back to your date while I find a way out through the back."

"You're not ditching me, are you?"

"Of course I am. I just told you that Dominik Szoboszlai is a dickhead." Which was a shame since he was undoubtedly attractive.

"Please stay." Lexi pleaded. "I'll pay you."

You laughed. "Fine, but I'm not playing anymore games."

"Deal!"

The two of you walked out of the ladies' bathroom and back to your table. The guys were still there. However, the two of them looked ready to leave.

"Heya..., do you ladies, maybe fancy going elsewhere?" Andy said in his lovely Scottish accent.

"Why, are you bored of us?" Lexi said, angst in her voice.

Andy chuckled. "I was thinking the opposite. The two of you look so beautiful tonight. It's too beautiful for a place like this."

"Oh, Andy." Lexi hooked her arm with his. "We don't mind playing more games. Right Y/N?"

"Right....." You glanced over to Dominik, who stood with his eyes glued to his phone. He was texting someone. Probably a girl that he found more entertaining than you.

"It's no worries, really. Andy said. "Dominik actually knows the owner of the best rooftop bar in Liverpool."

"Gallaways?" You perked up.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Dominik frowned, his eyes on you and not his phone.

You shrugged cooly. "I've heard about it. My boyfriend says it's okay."

"Boyfriend?"

He seemed surprised.

"Yes, boyfriend. Maybe I should give him a call and see if he can help us get—"

"We're in." Dominik said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "My friend has a table waiting for us."

"How fun." Lexi squealed. "Doesn't that sound fun Y/N?"

"Yes, delightful."

Dominik was watching you in the same way you watched him, quite spitful. It was lucky you were going to another bar. If you were going to make it through this double date, you were going to need something stronger to drink than beer. Much stronger.

Part 2

[live-laugh-loverpool]

the obligatory fic about virg bulldozing robbo (and kicking the ball that caused robbo's own goal)

@millythegoat @liverpool-enjoyer

Virg is still a walking hazard

imagine getting bulldozed midair by a flying truck 💀