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f1daydreamers · 4 months ago

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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

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drwzzy · 6 months ago

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trent alexander arnold and jude bellingham — england v serbia

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cher-rei · 8 months ago

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random texts with trent [ T.A.A ]

notes: just a little something to fill the void because I'm boreeeeddd. masterlist

#footballer imagine #cherrei writes #fanfic #footballer x reader #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagine #footballer x you #trent alexander arnold x reader #football #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #liverpool football club

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formulalfc · 1 year ago

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hi!! i was thinking about how Trent or Dominik would hard launch your relationship at a game?!?!?! So like make you wear his jersey and comment how good you look with his name and number on your back and like celebrating with the team after and he decides to post pics of you on Insta and everyone saying how smitten he is for reader <3

Love love love your other fics!!!

i did both because i felt super inspired, hope you like these i got kinda carried away

trent alexander arnold

trent is super shy and isn't big on flaunting what is his but seeing you in his shirt at the game really does something to him. you proudly showing off that you're his in front of everyone and keeping all your attention on him throughout the game has this man going feral. when he meets with you after the game he's wrapping his arms around you and pressing so many kisses all over your face, making you giggle as you congratulate him on the win. on your way out of the game your walking with some of the other lads, talking to them about the game but trent literally only has eyes for you. just watching the way you interact with his friends as you all walk to your cars.

liked by youruser, virgilvandijk, and 1,323,738 others

trentarnold66 big win🔴feels even better knowing my girls in the stands cheering me on

user1 we've lost another girlies

user2 no way trent got a girl before GTA 6 came out

youruser 🥹ur so cute, love u baby

trentarnold66 love u more pretty girl x

virgilvandijk so that's why you played so well today, wanted to impress the missus ;)

user3 they're so cute omg

dominik szoboszlai

oh this man has been waiting to hard launch you guys for ages now. he absolutely hates that guys think your single cause you're all his and he needs to let everyone know. so when you show up at anfield in a liverpool shirt with his name written on your back he figures that's you giving him the all clear. as soon as the game is done he's telling you to come down to the tunnel and wait for him. he gets pulled back for an interview and the interviewer asks him if there was anyone he wanted to dedicate his goal to and he smirks a little before saying it was for his girl who's waiting for him just down the tunnel, and then he just leaves the interview and runs up to you, spinning you around before planting a big kiss on your lips.

liked by youruser, trentarnold66, and 879,367 others

szoboszlaidominik off to go get my reward 😏

user1 no he did not

user2 my guy being horny on the main

youruser baby my dad follows you....

szoboszlaidominik .....oops

youruser love you hot stuff ❤️

szoboszlaidominik love u too baby

ibrahimakonate ur missus is cooler than you

user3 stop they're in love in love

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

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pressure-machine · 8 months ago

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#jurgen klopp #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #liverpool fans #lfc #premier league #userf #*#not tk #look how happy he is to be almost done with this lmao

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szariahwroteit · 10 days ago

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FUNGIRL A Trent Alexander-Arnold + Original Character Erotic Series.

Chapter 1

18+ Minors DNI

Amber had promised herself that it would be the final time, and she couldn't shake the self-loathing that followed. What began a few months ago as a fleeting moment of passion between her and Trent after a chance meeting and a heavy night of drinking had spiralled into something deeply disheartening.

Setting her emotions aside, she focused on maintaining some form of connection with Trent. Deep down, she realized her feelings for the Liverpool-born footballing superstar were intense, yet she understood that he wasn't looking for anything serious—at least not with her.

Although she hadn’t attended tonight’s Liverpool match against Tottenham Hotspurs due to a work event, Trent had promised her that they’d see one another before he left London and headed back to Liverpool.

Wrapping her arms around herself to shield herself from the cold as she waited outside of the bar her colleagues were still sipping drinks in, she waited patiently for Trent to arrive; choosing a fleeting moment of passion with him over celebrating success with the rest of the lawyers from her firm.

They’d planned that after his match, he’d head back to his hotel and freshen up before picking her up from dinner so he could spend the night at his hotel with him before he went back to Liverpool.

Amber's heart raced at the thought of seeing him. It was a bittersweet anticipation wrapped in layers of uncertainty. She took a deep breath, attempting to shake off the clenching feeling in her stomach, reminding herself of her resolve to end this rollercoaster of emotions. But each moment spent waiting made it clear how much she craved him—his smile, the way his laughter filled the air around them, their late-night conversations and their intimate moments that left her head spinning. Despite the complexities of the situation, The sex was outstanding.

As the minutes dragged on, her thoughts drifted to what life would be like in a perfect world, a world where Trent’s feelings mirrored her own.

Amber’s thoughts were interrupted by the smooth hum of an engine as a sleek black Maybach pulled up to the curb in front of her before Trent hopped out to greet her, thick winter puffer over his body as he wore the hood of his sweater pulled over his head for a sense of anonymity.

“Good evening Amber,” he smirked teasingly as he stood before her, his eyes drinking in her figure.

“Trent,” Amber replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she fought to suppress the rush of warmth that flooded her cheeks. The familiar thrill surged through her as his gaze lingered on her, a mix of desire and trouble twinkling in his deep brown eyes.

“You know you missed me,” he chuckled softly, stepping closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a warm embrace, intoxicating and undeniably magnetic. “I’m just sorry I kept you waiting.”

Amber shook her head, attempting to regain her composure. “Don’t gaslight me.” She barely managed to keep her voice steady, her heart racing at the proximity between them.

“How was your evening?” Trent asked, his eyes focused on her plump lips as she subconsciously bit her bottom lip. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by him, and he took a half-step closer, his breath mingling with the cool night air.

“It was… work,” she said, trying to keep the conversation light despite the weight of her emotions. “Lots of small talk, politics, and overpriced wine.”

He chuckled, and that sound settled deep within her. “You should’ve just ditched them and come e to me. You know you would’ve had more fun,” he teased, his voice low, his lips curving into that smile that made her heart flip.

Amber felt a rush of desire at his words, matched only by the thrill of his playful challenge. “As much as I’d love to slack off, I have responsibilities. They can’t just be ignored for you,” she quipped back, keeping her tone light but unable to mask the spark flickering in her chest.

“Responsibilities, huh?” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What about your responsibilities to yourself?” He stepped even closer, the warmth of his body seeping into the cold that surrounded them.

“Come here,” Trent murmured, hooking a finger beneath her chin so he could bow his head and kiss her sweetly as if he wasn't a public figure and they weren't in the middle of a bustling city on a random weeknight.

The moment his lips brushed against hers, a bolt of warmth surged through Amber, chasing away the chill that tugged at her. It was a kiss that spoke volumes—intimate yet fleeting, soft yet electric. Her heart raced, caught between the thrill of the encounter and the nagging thought that this was exactly the kind of moment she had sworn to avoid.

Trent deepened the kiss, tilting her head to fit his, as if they were the only two people in that existed. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and she found herself melting into the embrace, allowing the complexity of their relationship to temporarily fade into the background. His hands cradled her face, and she could feel the pulse of his heartbeat.

When they finally pulled apart, Amber struggled to regain her breath, the world around her coming back into focus. She gazed up at him, searching for clarity in his expression. “Trent… we shouldn’t do this here,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of desire and trepidation.

“Maybe,” he replied, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unwavering intensity. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?” He offered her a playful grin, but beneath the surface, Amber could see the sincerity flickering in his gaze.

That very well may have been the case for Trent, but for Amber, it did nothing to subdue her feelings for him. It only made matters worse.

Taking Amber’s hand into his, Trent led her over to the awaiting car so they could escape the winter chill and the prying eyes of the city. The interior of the Maybach was luxuriously warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. As they slid into the plush leather seats, the tension shifted to a new level, the weight of their shared kiss lingering in the air like an unspoken promise.

Trent turned to her, his expression a mix of mischief and sincerity.

“What?” Amber blushed.

“Am I not allowed to look at you?” he asked teasingly, as the car pulled away from the curb and into the bustling streets of London. The city lights blurred past them, but Amber’s focus remained solely on him, the connection between them undeniable.

“Of course, you can look at me,” she responded, trying to sound playful as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling slightly flustered under his scrutiny.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Trent pulled Amber’s body closer to his, his warmth enveloping her as she allowed herself to melt against him.

“These are sexy,” Trent complimented as he pulled her foot into his lap, inspecting the blue open-toe Rene Caovilla heels she wore on her dainty feet. His fingers traced over her ankle as he took in the artistry of the shoes.

“Thank you, I brought them to make myself feel better after my ex and I….” Amber trailed off, her cheeks heating as she realized just how much she was allowing herself to open up to Trent.

Trent's gaze softened, and he continued to caress her ankle gently, the sensation sending pleasant shivers up her leg. “You don’t have to explain,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. “But if you need someone to talk to, I'm here.”

Amber’s heart fluttered at the offer. It was dangerous territory, exposing her vulnerabilities to someone who had made it clear he wasn't interested in anything serious. “It’s just silly,” she replied, trying to deflect the conversation away from her feelings. “I’m over it, really.”

“Are you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his thumb now gliding over her exposed skin just above her heel. The way he looked at her, so intensely, made her feel as if he wanted to know every secret she held inside.

“Yes,” Amber answered, hoping the conversation about her past would begin and end there.

Trent held her gaze, his eyes searching for any hint of the truth behind her words. “You know,” he said, leaning in closer, “running from your past doesn’t help. It just makes the present feel heavier.”

“I’m not running from anything,” Amber protested, her voice barely above a whisper. But the way he looked at her, with understanding and care, stirred emotions she desperately wanted to keep at bay. His thumb continued to stroke her ankle, drawing her further into their moment.

“Then let me help you forget,” he murmured, the playful tone returning as he leaned back, creating just enough space for Amber to process his words.

Forget. The idea was tempting, the world beyond their bubble blurring as the warmth of the car and his touch engulfed her senses. But in the stillness, Amber couldn’t shake the loneliness mingling with the heat thrumming through her.

“Trent…” she began, her heart racing with uncertainty. “What are we doing?”

Before she could draw out an answer, Trent closed the gap once more, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “We’re just two people enjoying tonight—a night that’s ours, no strings attached.”

“Is that what you want?”

He paused, searching her eyes for an answer. “Honestly, I just want this moment with you.”

As the words sank in, she felt her hesitation begin to melt. What if just tonight felt good? Because the truth was, the connection they shared was magnetic, pulling at every bit of her resolve.

“Okay,” Amber finally said, the quiet acceptance tasting both thrilling and terrifying.

The car pulled up in front of his hotel, the towering building glowing against the night sky. A doorman rushed over to open the door, ushering them out. Still wrapped in each other’s warmth, they stepped into the lobby, and Amber felt a mix of exhilaration and dread wash over her.

Inside the elevator, the air thickened with anticipation. The moment the doors slid shut, Trent’s hand found hers again, fingers intertwining effortlessly. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Are you okay?”

A spark of nerves danced in her stomach, but she nodded. She was ready to let herself go, just for tonight.

As they reached his floor, Trent led her down the plush carpeted hallway, the world beyond muted in the intimate bubble they occupied. The plush silence only heightened the anticipation coursing through her veins.

When they arrived at his door, he pulled out the keycard and opened the door, ushering her inside first. The hotel room was spacious and tastefully decorated, soft lighting casting a warm glow that enveloped them.

Before she could fully process her surroundings, Trent stepped in behind her, and in one swift movement, he had her pressed against the door, the warmth of his body radiating against hers. The world outside faded away—a thumping heartbeat, a wild desire igniting in her core as she looked up into those dark, smouldering eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, a playful yet earnest glint in his gaze that flickered between excitement and concern, after her shift in mood back in the car on the way over.

“I’m sure,” Amber breathed out, wrapping her arms around his neck, the anticipation vibrating between them. “Just… no overthinking.”

Trent let out a low chuckle, the sound smooth and inviting. “No promises. But for tonight, I’ll try.”

And before she could second-guess herself, he kissed her again, this time more fervently. Their lips moved together in heated synchrony, igniting spark after spark that travelled through them. The kiss deepened, and the taste of him filled her senses, intoxicating and irresistible.

Trent's hands roamed down her sides, exploring the curves of her body, drawing her closer still. She pressed herself against him, craving the heat and closeness only he could provide.

They stumbled slightly, and before Amber knew it, she was led toward the plush sofa, her heart hammering with excitement and a touch of apprehension. “This,” he murmured as he swept her hair away from her face, “I've been craving you.”

With that revelation hanging in the air, he kissed her again, with a fervour that seemed to convey volumes. Each touch, each caress stirred something deep within her, an ache that begged to be satisfied.

Amber pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, searching for the truth in the moment. “You have?”

Trent paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Of course I have.” The sincerity in his tone made her heart flutter.

As if she'd taken a momentary vow of silence, Amber stepped away from Trent removing her coat and placing it down, before reaching for the hem of her dress so she could pull it over her head so she stood before Trent in her heels and lingerie.

“Come here, now,” he growled, pulling her body flush against his. His hands cupped her ass as his lips found her neck and jaw.

Amber gasped at the sudden rush of sensation, her skin igniting under his touch as he pressed against her. The warmth of him enveloped her, making her skin tingle. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against her neck, his breath hot and inviting. The thrill of his words sent shivers down her spine, emboldening her.

She could feel the weight of his desire against her, and it only fueled the fire within her. “Trent,” she whispered, tilting her head back to give him better access to whatever he wanted, her heart racing as his lips travelled lower, brushing over her collarbone with a featherlight tenderness.

“What?” he murmured, nipping at the skin of her neck.

“Fuck me,” Amber all but begged.

“Undress me first,” Trent responded, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he stepped back, creating just enough distance for her to take action. The challenge in his voice was tantalizing, mixing the thrill of the moment with a sense of empowerment.

Amber’s pulse quickened at his request. There was something exhilarating about taking control, about uncovering the man she craved, it was something Trent knew she enjoyed. She took a step toward him, her heart racing with anticipation.

She reached for the hem of his sweater, her fingers lightly grazing the fabric as she pulled it up and over his head. The muscles beneath his skin were defined and enticing under the soft glow of the room. Amber’s breath snagged in her throat as she allowed herself a moment to admire him—the way his chest broadened, the curve of his waist, and the hint of pubic hair peeking out just above his brief that sat low on his waist.

“Keep going,” he said, his voice thick with desire, watching her every movement like a predator sizing up its prey.

With a blush creeping up her cheeks and a surge of boldness, Amber stepped closer again. Sinking to her knees so she could pull off his sweats and underwear, his perfect cock hanging heavily before her.

As perfect as she looked on her knees, there was a vulnerability Trent had noticed within her that he wanted to wipe clean from her mind.

Positioning Amber over the sofa’s arm in one swift motion that left her breathless, Trent groaned as the position exposed her to him, putting her wet pussy and puckering asshole on full display beneath her thong.

Drawing her right hand behind her back, he used his left to place a stinging slap on her ass cheek, grunting as the tip of his pulsing, hard cock brushed against her warm flesh.

Amber's breath hitched as Trent's palm made contact with her skin, the sharp sting sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she bit back a moan at the sensation of his thick cockhead teasing her.

"Fuck...Trent..." she managed to gasp out, hips instinctively rolling back against him in search of more friction. The cool leather of the sofa pressed against her face as he bent her over further, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

Her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bra, hard peaks aching for attention. Amber's mind raced with the illicit thrill of being taken like this so roughly, yet so tender. It only added to the arousal coursing through her veins.

With deliberate slowness, Trent dragged his hand up Amber's inner thigh, his fingers grazing over her delicate skin until they reached her pussy.

“It's so fucking wet,” he groaned pressing the pad of his thumb against her slick entrance, before removing it and allowing a bead of saliva to fall from his mouth onto her.

The obscene sound of spit hitting her sex made Amber shudder, a choked gasp escaping her lips. The sensation of Trent's thumb rubbing her slick entrance, mixed with his saliva, was utterly degrading and humiliating. Yet her body responded eagerly, hips rocking back against his hand in search of more stimulation.

"Don’t move,” Trent laughed almost sinisterly, making Amber cry out as he spanked her pussy once and then twice for good measure.

Amber’s mind had completely gone blank of every aside from the beautiful, strong man behind her. Before she could even make sense of the moment, Trent slowly eased into her, making her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth fall open.

"Ah!" Amber cried out, her voice muffled by the leather as Trent's thick cock pushed into her soaked pussy. The sudden intrusion stretched her walls wide, a mix of pleasure and discomfort flashing through her.

Trent's slow, deliberate pace allowed Amber to adjust to his size, but it only heightened the intensity of each thrust. Her inner muscles clenched around him, responding eagerly to the sensation of being filled so completely.

As he picked up speed, Amber's breath came in ragged gasps, punctuated by moans and whimpers. She was lost in the rhythm of their coupling, hips meeting his with increasing desperation as she chased her impending orgasm.

Her mind reeled from the overwhelming sensations – Trent's balls colliding with her clit with every stroke, his muscular thighs tensing against hers, the coarse hair on them... It all blended in a haze of lust and submission.

Amber’s eyes rolled back as Trent’s hand wrapped around the front of her throat, drawing her body up towards his so he could hold her against his chest as he fucked her deep.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, his lips curling into a bashful smirk against her jaw. “The way your little pussy is talking to me.”

Trent's fingers dug into Amber's skin as he captured her throat, his thumb pressing gently against it. The position had him buried to the hilt inside her, and he revelled in the feeling of total control.

"You like this, don't you?" he panted into her ear, his hot breath fanning over her neck. "Being mine..."

His hips snapped forward again, driving deeper as he relished in the obscene squelching sounds of their coupling. Trent could feel every inch of Amber's pussy gripping him tightly, milking him with each stroke.

With a low growl, Trent began to pound into Amber harder and faster making her moan wildly. The couch creaked beneath them as he rode her mercilessly, his balls tapping against her clit with each powerful thrust.

"Yes," she whimpered through clenched teeth, her eyes filling with tears as Trent’s hand came to splay against her stomach, holding her.

Amber's mind went blank, consumed by the overwhelming sensations of Trent's body against hers. The hand on her throat sent a thrill of vulnerability and submission through her, even as his cock pounded into her relentlessly.

She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching and filling her to the hilt. The sounds of their coupling slick skin slapping together, grunts and moans intermingled with Amber's ragged breaths only added to the depravity of it all.

"Yes," she whimpered again, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the pleasure coursing through her veins. Her eyes rolled back as Trent's palm pressed harder against her stomach, anchoring her in place for his brutal fucking.

Amber’s head fell back onto Trent’s shoulder and followed it, his lips meeting hers as he grunted into her mouth. “Look into my eyes,” he whispered against her.

As Trent's lips captured hers, Amber instinctively opened to him, her tongue tangling with his in a passionate kiss. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her lower lip and shivered, the sensation sending a jolt of arousal straight to her core.

Gazing up at him through heavy lids, Amber met Trent's intense gaze as he commanded. In that moment, she was lost in the depths of his eyes dark pools of desire and possession that made her heart race and pulse quicken between her thighs.

“Take this off,” he commanded, all but ripping the bralette that barely contained her breast from her body and tossing it to the floor. “These are fucking perfect.” Trent continued, cupping Amber’s round breasts in his hands as his thumbs circled her hard nipples.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily as she savoured the sensation of his strong hands kneading her soft flesh. Amber's body responded eagerly to Trent's ministrations, her nipples hardening under his skilled touch.

Slowly, Trent's hands slid lower, tracing the curve of Amber's waist and hips. "I want you to ride me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

Amber's eyes snapped open, meeting Trent's heated gaze. A thrill of excitement raced down her spine at the prospect of being in control. With a coy smile, she nodded, bracing herself against Trent's chest as she began to rise, his stillhard cock slipping out of her slick heat followed by her essence beginning to slip down the insides of her thighs.

Trent's eyes darkened as he watched Amber rise up, his cock slipping from her wet pussy. He had to bite back a groan at the sight of her juices trickling down the insides of her thighs.

"You're so fucking gorgeous like this," he murmured, running his hands over her curves possessively. "Now show me what you can do."

Amber grinned mischievously, grasping Trent's shoulders for leverage as she positioned herself above him once more. She could feel his hard length twitching against her slick entrance, eager for another round.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Amber lowered herself onto Trent's throbbing cock, gasping at the sensation of being stretched and filled again. Her inner muscles clenched around him as she began to ride him in earnest.

Trent let out a low growl of pleasure, his hands sliding up to grasp Amber's hips as she started to bounce on top of him.

His fingers dug into her hips, guiding her movements as she rode him with increasing urgency. Trent's eyes never left Amber's face, drinking in the sight of her flushed skin, heaving breasts, and the way her hair tumbled around her shoulders in disarray.

"Fuck yeah," he encouraged, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take that cock like a good girl."

Amber moaned loudly at the filthy words, feeling a rush of arousal at being spoken to so crudely. She picked up speed, slamming herself down onto Trent's length with abandon.

The sofa creaked beneath them as they fucked wildly, their bodies slapping together in a primal rhythm. Amber could feel every inch of Trent's cock stretching and filling her to the brink, sending jolts of electricity through her nerves.

As she reached down between their sweat-slicked bodies to rub at her clit, Trent wrapped an arm around Amber's waist and pulled her close for another searing kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Trent gazed up at Amber with a heated intensity in his eyes. "You feel so fucking amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with lust.

Amber's breath hitched as she met Trent's gaze, her own eyes dark with desire. She continued to ride him hard and fast, her hips snapping against his thighs as she chased her rapidly approaching orgasm.

"Come on my cock," Trent urged, his grip on her hips tightening. "Show me what you're my special girl."

With a wild cry, Amber threw back her head and came undone. Her pussy clamped down around Trent's throbbing length as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body. The intense contractions milked him for all he was worth, drawing out his own release.

As they both rode the aftershocks of their climax, Trent wrapped Amber in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

As Trent held Amber close, he could feel her trembling in the aftermath of their intense coupling. A sense of possessiveness washed over him as he nuzzled into the warm skin of her neck, his softening cock still buried deep inside her.

"I love making you cum so hard," he murmured against her ear, a hint of pride in his voice.

And within an instant that shallow feeling returned, he loved making her cum, not who she was as a person or even to him.

Despite her shaky legs, Amber removed herself from Trent’s lap, hissing as she stood up and made her way into the hotel suite's bathroom without a word.

Closing the door behind herself, Amber turned the lock as she felt herself becoming overcome with emotion and tears filled her eyes.

More than anything she was disappointed in herself, despite how much she’d convinced herself that this would be the last time, she knew it wasn't.

She knew that every time he called she’d go to him, the pull he had on her was magnetic and as natural as nature itself.

She was completely and utterly drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

So when the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened, Amber stepped through it, her face flushed and eyes glossy with tears of both pleasure and emotional turmoil.

Pushing her feelings aside she plastered a lazy smile on her face as she made her way back out of the bathroom towards the man who she knew would never feel for her as she did for him.

A man who had only ever seen her as an option.

#trent alexander fluff #trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold #fanfic #trent aa #taa #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #jude bellingham smut #chick lit #football #smut

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insidekatmind · 3 days ago

Text

A blues girlfriend- Virgil van Dijk

wearning: +18,smut

request: yes.

You are sitting on the couch at home, snuggled up next to Virgil van Dijk. The atmosphere is quiet, the sound of the television in the background is barely perceptible. His presence was always reassuring, a mix of strength and sweetness that made you feel protected. He has his arm resting on your shoulder, his fingers slowly marking circles on the fabric of your shirt.

You turn slightly to look at him, the sculpted profile of his face is illuminated by the light of the screen. He looks down at you with a smile just touched, one of those smiles that always make you get butterflies in your stomach.

"Virgil," you start out in an innocent tone, but the mischievous gleam in your eyes does not escape him.

"Hm?" he answers without taking his eyes off you, curious.

"Could you... play badly against Arsenal?" you ask in a soft voice, almost as if you were proposing the most logical thing in the world. Hold a grin, knowing what his reaction will be.

Slowly, his right eyebrow rises. He looks at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, and for a moment there is only silence. Then he tilts his head to the side, his gaze becomes tighter and more penetrating.

"Wait, wait... what did you say?" he asks, his voice low and a hint of jealousy that shines through behind the jesting tone.

You shrug with an innocent expression, but you can’t hold back your smile.

"You know, if Liverpool loses to Arsenal, Chelsea has a better chance of getting back on the board. It’s not a big sacrifice, is it?" Add, touching his chest with fingers in an innocent and provocative gesture at the same time.

He stares at you intensely, his gaze is now deeper. He moistens his lips with his tongue and then shakes his head, letting out a brief incredulous laugh.

"Ah, so is that it? you’re more supportive of Chelsea than you are of me?" He replies with a calm voice, but his dark eyes hold you captive, full of silent jealousy that he had never openly admitted.

"Come on, baby, you know I’m a big fan of Chelsea," you say, putting your head against his shoulder. "That’s not new."

"I know," he replies slowly, his voice more raucous. He turns slightly, so that he looks you straight in the eye. "But that doesn’t mean I like it."

Feel his arm clench around you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder gives you a jolt. Your heart beats faster.

"Oh, are you jealous?" you ask, challenging him with a funny smile.

"Maybe a little," he admits with a slight grin, hid lips dangerously close to yours. "I don’t like it when you’re not rooting for me. Makes me think you don’t support me as well as you should."

"Oh, poor baby," you joke, trying to keep a defiance tone, but your voice goes down unconsciously. "Do I have to cheer for you when you play against my team?"

"Yes, that’s what I’m saying," he replies with a confident smile, his voice getting lower and more seductive. "You’re mine, aren’t you? Then you must cheer for me. Period."

You don’t have time to answer. Before you can open your mouth, he leans over you and kisses you with an overwhelming passion. His lips move with a decided sweetness, and the warmth of his kiss envelops you like a flame. A big hand slips behind your neck, fingers sink gently into your hair, locking you in that delicate but authoritative grip.

Your breath is broken, and your mind is empty instantly. The awareness of what you were trying to do disappears under the pressure of his lips against yours. Every logical reasoning gives way to that feeling of warmth that runs through you all.

Virgil interrupts the kiss for a moment, his eyes burning with intensity as he stares at you.

"I told you so," he whispers in his deeper voice than before. "I come before Chelsea."

You’re short of breath, warm cheeks, and your answer is a whisper you can barely utter.

"You are unbearable," murmurs, the eyes lost in his, the heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes, but I’m your unbearable," he counters with a triumphant grin, leaving you speechless.

You stare at him, trying to catch up, but the smile that lights his face makes you lose any desire to counter. You already know he won, and he knows better than you.

"So," he adds, tongue-licking as if he was still enjoying the kiss, "I will play against Arsenal. And not only will I play... but I’ll do everything to win. And you know what? When I score, my first thought will be you. My girl who cheers for Chelsea."

"Ah, you’re unbearable!" you exclaimed, laughing as you slap a light punch on his chest.

"You’ve said it before," he replies with a smile full of arrogance and affection at the same time. He holds you closer to him, his arms wrap you with that sure and stable force that you have always loved in him.

"I come before Chelsea, remember that," he whispers to your face and then kisses you again

The kiss becomes more passionate as Virgil explores your mouth with his tongue and you groan.

With a fluidity that leaves you breathless, Virgil lays you down on the couch gently, his big strong hands guiding you with sweetness and determination. It makes you lie down with a slowness that feels like safety and control. His body moves over yours with the grace of a sure predator of its prey. His eyes follow your every movement, his gaze burns with an intensity that makes you spin your head.

"Now don’t run," he whispers in that husky voice that makes your soul vibrate. His lips bend in a smile that drives you crazy, a promise and a challenge together.

His hands slowly caress you, sliding down your hips with a delicacy that contrasts with the strength of his movements. It keeps you still, but at the same time it makes you feel free. The beat of your heart accelerates, every sense is concentrated on him, on his touch, on every breath you feel against your skin.

"You’re too stubborn," he whispers against your lips, his warm breath tickling you. "But I like it that way."

And then he kisses you. But this time it’s different. It’s not a sudden or impetuous kiss. It’s slow, deep, studied. His lips move against yours with a precision that makes you lose your breath. Every second that passes, the world around you vanishes. There is no more television in the background, there is no more dim light in the room. It’s just you two.

His hands caress your face, thumbs trace little circles on your cheeks. Hi8s touch is so sweet that you almost cry. Yet there is a strength in that gesture, a silent promise. He holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and at that moment you feel just like that.

Feel the weight of his body against yours, not too heavy, but enough to make you feel protected, safe. His lips move more now, and your breath is mixed with his. Your fingertips run along his broad shoulders, tracing the line of his muscles. Every corner of his body is carved to perfection, and it seems almost unreal that it’s all yours.

"Tell me," he whispers against your lips, interrupting the kiss for just a moment. "Who comes first, me or Chelsea?" His voice is full of arrogant confidence, but his eyes are full of expectation. It’s not just a question, it’s a challenge.

Pretend to think about it, tilting your head slightly and biting your lip to hold a smile. "Let’s see..." Jokes, but you do not in time to finish the sentence that his lips return to claim you, more hungry than before.

"Wrong answer," he whispers against your mouth before kissing you again, and this time it’s more insistent, deeper. You find yourself letting go completely, your hands clinging to his back as the kiss becomes more intense. There is no Chelsea, no Premier League ranking. There is only Virgil, with his strength and his sweetness fused into one overwhelming embrace.

When he broke off the kiss, he turned you on your stomach and pulled out your pants and underwear leaving you naked in front of him, Virgil began to strip himself and sucked his dick on his hands to then rub you on your entrance making you groan.

You tried to push your hips back to feel more friction but he blocked you. " do the good blues" he said mocking you and then with a quick blow he put his dick inside of you.

You cried a whimper and your whole body felt weak for a moment. He grunted feeling you tight and took a handful of your hair to arch your back against his chest and started fucking you making you scream moaning.

You lowered your head on your shoulders, while leaning against his body. He looked at you and smiled when he saw your fucking face with his mouth open and kissed you ruddy as he kept fucking you.

You moaned even louder feeling his power and how he was filling you with his cock. "Chelsea comes first, huh?" he whisper to your ear, then nibble playfully on your lobe and you groan without giving him an answer.

Virgil put his hand on your pussy and started to insert a finger into your pussy and made it move as he began to increase his thrusts even faster.

You groaned, focusing on your pleasure and Virgil began to attack your neck with bites and kisses. " Answer me when I ask you a question" he said and gave you a push that made you bend on your legs on the couch.

He started to fuck you without stopping and you were screaming with pleasure his name. He grunted as you felt that you were close. "That’s fine," you whispers with a short breath as he is still fucking you. "You come first."

A triumphant smile lights up his face. "I know," he says, with that arrogance that drives you crazy. His lips touch your neck, leaving a trail of light kisses that make you shiver. "And I’ll remind you of it every time you try to forget it." He continued giving you a last shot by making you cum on his cock and he kept hitting you until he cummed inside of you.

"a blues girl who gets cum in her pussy held by a player of the Liverpool, that bad girl" he said jokingly.

I pull his dick out and you whimpered about the loss of contact. Virgil sat on the couch trying to catch his breath and you crawled over to him kissing him and he hugged you.

"You’re mine, don’t forget it" whispered.

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planetpedri · 2 months ago

Text

To say hello — Trent Alexander-Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Seeing your ex was no fun thing, but sitting beside him on a two hour flight was even worse. And you realize, to say ‘hello’ was to allow so much more.

Word count: 2k+

Disclaimer/s: Slight angst , hopeful/happy ending.

A/N: Nobody wants him the way I do.

The first time you’d seen Trent after your breakup was on a flight to Paris. You were nearly late to your plane. Traffic had delayed your planned arrival, then the lines were horrific, and you’d had to run across the whole airport just to get to your gate on time. Luckily, you got in with five minutes to spare.

Quickly finding your first class seat, you scan the rows. 1B.. 2B.. 3B.. oh.

Your heart sunk.

His seemingly did too, all the color draining from his face as he processed just who you were. He choked out your name, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“That’s my seat.” You mumble, motioning to the window seat. There was such a little chance of this ever happening, but of course with your luck it did.

Trent unbuckles and stands from his seat to allow you out of the isle, his eyes staying trained on you the whole time. It’d been well over a year since the two of you had seen each other, so he was simply taking in all your differences.

An hour passed, and neither of you talked. You’d forcefully kept your legs leaning against the side of the plane, your whole body shifting away from him. Trent on the other hand, had played it off as cool as possibly by sitting normally and watching a movie on the screen provided. He couldn’t help the few glances he stole your way, but then again, neither could you.

Eventually, when the food came, you were forced to sit normally, that’s when Trent spoke to you for the first time.

“Hello.” He finally sighs, playing with his food.

“Hey.” You reply, taking a bite to focus on anything but the awkward silence that followed.

Trent glanced your way, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “What are the chances?”

“Trent.” You huff, “i’m trying to eat.” You didn’t even have an appetite. He seemed to have that effect on you. Every time you were reminded of him, you couldn’t eat for hours. Whether it was from the longing to see him again, or the hatred that bubbled within you, you weren’t all too sure.

The Scouser didn’t seem to care, as he continued talking to you for the rest of the flight. Of course, you eventually entertained it, because the more you talked, the less he did. Trent was always a listener, and when he did, he kept his mouth shut.

Finally, the plane landed and you made your hasty escape. Trent didn’t even have a chance to call after you, to say the things he’d been trying to gain the courage to tell you for months. You were gone.

That night, lying in his hotel overlooking the beautiful city of love, Trent couldn’t hold it in. He’d dialed your number, refilling his glass in the process.

You pick up with a low groan, half asleep as you speak. “It’s midnight, Trent. Go to sleep.”

“I miss you, and I know I messed up.” He sighs, not even giving you a moment to process what he was saying before he continues. “I’m sorry.”

There’s shuffling on his end, and you hear the ice clinking into the sides of a glass. Thats when you register the slur in his accent. Annoyance grows within you. These were drunken thoughts, they didn’t mean anything.

“You still have my number saved.” Another beat of silence where he whispers out your name, “say something.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.” You don’t deny it because yes, you did. In the year since your break up, you had failed to get yourself to the point of deleting his existence. You didn’t know why, but the thought of erasing his once meaningful presence was hard to do.

“Good night, Trent.” And with that, you hung up, sinking into your pillow with a soft exhale.

The summer had passed, and in that time you hadn’t heard from Trent again. Clearly, that night in Paris had been nothing but a drunken mistake. A mistake that left you reliving every moment with him. In the three years you’d dated, it had taken three months to relive all your best memories. For three months, he was all you could think about.

Trent hadn’t even attempted to get ahold of you, maybe out of shame, maybe because he simply didn’t care. You were beginning to think rejecting him that night was the worst decision you’d ever made.

Now, driving through the rugged English roads, you couldn’t control the way your fingers slid across your phone’s screen, dialing the number you had engraved into your mind.

It had only dialed for a count of three, before the sleepy hum of your name was heard. “‘Something wrong?” He asks, exhaustion clear in the way he spoke, but alongside it was concern. It was like all those months ago, but the roles had been reversed.

“Hello.” You finally get out, “I miss you, too.”

Trent doesn’t chuckle, he doesn’t sigh, he doesn’t grunt. He does wake up fully, though, sitting up straight in his bed. “Where are you?”

“Uhm, somewhere near fifth and chord? I’m not too sure..”

“Come over?” His voice holds a hint of pleading, and you were weaker than ever.

“Do you still live in the same apartment?” You ask, already turning to make your way there instinctively, assuming he hadn’t moved in the year you’d broken up.

You had imagined the small smile growing on his face as he heard the blinker, you could practically hear it in his voice. “Yeah, you can let yourself in.”

It’s your turn to smile, “do you seriously still leave your key above the door? Trent, how many times do I have to tell you how dangerous that is?”

He’d lied, of course. He just missed that scolding tone in your voice, the one filled with amusement but genuine care.

“I’m joking!” He laughs, “i’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Once you’d reached his apartment, and long since hung up, you give yourself a few moments to think about what you were doing. This was a stupid idea. He was your ex. You weren’t supposed to allow these things to happen.

Opening the door, you hesitantly make your way inside. It was clean, surprisingly. He hadn’t always been this tidy when you were dating, so it was a pleasant surprise. You slip off your shoes and set your purse on one of the hooks.

“Trent?” You call out, walking through the kitchen into the living room, and down the hall toward his bedroom.

He opens the door, his eyes darting across your face as if he was trying to assure himself you were really there. “Hello.” He says softly, opening the door wider to invite you in.

You don’t respond, your skin crawling by simply being in his presence again. Walking into his bedroom, your eyes trace the small changes, other than the lack of your things, it hadn’t changed much. Trailing your fingers across his desk, you pause, eyes finding their way back to his closet.

Your spot there was still untouched. Empty. He hadn’t filled it in with his own clothes, that you knew he needed. Trent had an excess of clothes, he always needed more space, yet he never touched your side.

Your eyes flicker to his, and he seemed to catch what you were thinking. “I didn’t think it’d last this long.” He admits.

Pursing your lips, you nod, although it didn’t make sense. You’d been broken up for well over a year now, so that wasn’t necessarily an excuse.

You found your way to his bed, slowly sitting down on it. Trent watches from afar, still leaning against the wall a few feet from his door. He takes careful note of your every move, every expression.

“So, now what?” You finally ask the question that was weighing on both of your minds as you play with the comforter.

Trent’s quiet, not knowing how far he should push this. “Stay the night, it’s late. We can talk tomorrow.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “no silly shit. Just sleeping.” You point at him accusatorially, which elicits a laugh from the man.

“Wouldn’t dream of pulling any ‘silly shit’.”

“I need pajamas.” You huff, pushing yourself off the bed and wadding towards his closet. “And—“

“Extra toothbrushes are under the sink, along with makeup remover.” He grins, cutting you off.

Rolling your eyes, you take a tee shirt from his closet. “You’ve been waiting for this day. Or, oh lord. Trent, have you been preparing for other girls?” You feign hurt, clasping a hand over your heart.

Trent leans against the doorframe of the walk in closet, grinning down at you, but a hint of sincerity flashes across his face. “I definitely wouldn’t dream of that.”

You try not to let the clear relief show on your face, but you couldn’t stop the twitch of your lips. “Interesting.” You nod, ducking under his arm as you make your way toward the bathroom.

Like a lost puppy, Trent follows you there too. “And you?” He asks, eyebrows lifted curiously.

“Turn around first.” You motion with your finger for him to turn around, which he does so with zero hesitance. While changing into the shirt, you finally answer. “There’s been one guy.”

Despite the ache in his heart, he nods in understanding. “Who?”

“He’s not important. It only lasted a month, if even that.” You shrug, “you can turn around.”

He does so, doing his best not to feel the satisfaction of your words and the fact that you were wearing his clothes, not that other guys. You were still his.

“A month? Only?” He asks smugly, moving toward the sink beside you.

Grabbing the extra toothbrush and makeup remover, you glance at him through his reflection in the mirror. “Unfortunately, he just wasn’t you.” The admission held so much weight, but it was the truth.

“That’s unfortunate… for him.” Trent hums. The bathroom is filled with a comfortable silence as you go about your nightly routine, a familiar feeling forming within you.

How many nights had you two done this exact routine together? How many nights had you felt so completely at home with Trent beside you? How many nights had it not ended it an argument, rather with you laying in his arms as you both fell asleep with nothing but love in your hearts?

With a barren face, you lean against the sink, your hip being the only thing keeping you steady. “Why are we doing this? It’s been a year and a half.”

“Because it’s what’s right.” He answers honestly, “and it was a long time coming.”

You couldn’t argue with that. You’d fallen asleep dreaming about being in his arms once again. There wasn’t a singular time in which you’d wished to be with anyone but Trent.

As the two of you both make your way back to Trent’s bed, you let yourself feel the things you’d denied yourself for so long. A small smile growing on your lips when you climb into the bed and Trent pulls you into his side, tugging the covers over the two of you.

With your head resting in the crook of his neck, you inhale his scent, the smell bringing you back to when everything was perfect between the two of you. This was where you belonged.

It didn’t take long for sleep to consume you, but Trent stayed awake for a little longer. He needed the reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, that you were here, in his arms, for good.

Then he fell asleep with a smile, and everything was okay again. Because this was what he’d longed for. Despite all the time spent apart, it all seemed worth it as long as you were with him, even if it was only momentary.

You were still his, and he as forever yours.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Feel free to lmk if you want tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold x y/n #football #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #fanfic #angst with happy ending #angst with a hopeful ending #ex’s to lovers #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander x you #trent alexander imagines

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loviingpedri · 1 year ago

Note

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

secret lover - trent a.a

prompt: request

warnings: grammar issues

credits to all owners for images

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i see you got a new hobby now.”

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

unexpectedly, his friends all heard the last sentence.

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

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

“said you missed someone, i wonder who.”

“just my mom. don’t overthink it.”

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

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

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

“arnold is really in love.”

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

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #trent alexandor x yn #trent alexandor x reader #trent alexandor fanfic #trent alexander x you #trent alexander imagines #trent aa #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander oneshots #liverpool fc #liverpool football club #liverpool

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f1daydreamers · 3 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

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judespoets · 5 months ago

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hii could u pls write an imagine with trent x bellingham sister reader where reader is an f1 driver and gets into a crash and her brothers and trent get worried and when she gets home trent looks after her <3

crash | trent alexander-arnold

pairing: taa x fem!f1!reader

warnings: mentions of crashing, hospitalization, wounds/blood

category: fluff/angst

a/n: i don’t know anything abt f1 so sorry if i did something wrong, also didn’t proofread yet maybe i will soon lol

it was a big day, maybe even the biggest one in your entire career. this race today is the opportunity to become someone great.

it was the day of your race today, and trent and your two brothers jude and jobe were all watching you for your big day.

Saying you were nervous was an understatement. You knew you earned your way here but actually being here with all the famous faces, it was just different.

As you stood on the starting line, you felt confident. You practiced a lot with your team for this and you were confident going into this race. But besides all, you were nervous. You really didn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend, trent was a real f1 fan and him watching you here was such an honor, you didn’t want him to judge you.

The first part of the race went good. Everything went smooth and you were living up to your and your teams expectations until you blinked for a second too long and in no time you accidentally left the road and your car flipped. Everything went so fast you couldn’t even comprehend what happened until you were feeling hot and tried to leave the car as soon as possible.

And you did it. But as you stood on the road, the adrenaline inside of you immediately vanished and you quickly felt your chest tighten, your breathing getting shorter and your legs giving out and everything went black.

The next thing you know is waking up in a bright, white room, monitors beeping in your ear with a loud sound, making you flinch immediately.

“Baby, oh my god.” You heard a voice from your left, scaring you slightly.

Looking to your left, you made out a face you knew all too well, a very worried Trent was all you saw.

He hurriedly stepped over to you from the chair he was sitting in, looking down at you with a very tired pair of eyes.

“Baby? How are you feeling?” He asked you, stroking you cheek with his hand softly.

“What? What is happening?” You asked him, obviously very confused about this whole situation.

“You had an accident, my love. A pretty bad one, i’m so glad you’re awake oh my god. You scared me, sweetheart.”

“I think I’m okay. What’s happened?”

“You came off the road and the car flipped. You got out luckily. But you fainted right after.” Trent spoke softly. “The doctor told me to get him right after you wake up. I’ll be right back, my love.” He said, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

And he was right. It took him like two seconds to come back with a doctor, taking his place next to you again.

“Miss Bellingham, great to see you awake again. To calm you down a little bit, you didn’t get any major injuries even though the crash was pretty bad. You suffered a whiplash and a fracture to your right wrist which will take about six weeks to heal with your cast. The whiplash can have different effects on you, it’s common to feel it in your neck and head while also suffering from nausea and dizziness. If we treat it right and you rest enough, you won’t take any long-term consequences from it. I know this will be a hard pill to swallow but concerning your Formula 1 career, it will take at least two to three months for you to be starting training again. It will take a lot of time and patience, but you will be back, that’s actually a privilege for your situation right now.”

“Wow” was all you could say right now. The news were extremely hard for you to comprehend right now, and Trent noticed that.

“Thank you, sir. We will definitely rest enough.” You heard your boyfriend say while you just stared at the wall right ahead of you.

“We will talk about all the treatments later on, for now just rest a little more.” The doctor said before walking out of the door again.

The sound of the door closing and the feeling of the familiar hand touching yours was the trigger point. The tears started to flow out of your eyes uncontrollably making you a sobbing mess. You didn’t know what to feel, everything just felt overwhelming right now.

Just a few hours ago you were excited to start the first major race of your life and now you were lying on this hospital bed not knowing how and when your career will start again.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I know it hard to understand right now, but you had so much luck. You could’ve been dead.” Trent said to you, his voice also slightly cracking while he took you into his arms.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Trent.” You admitted.

“I know, it’s okay. We’ll get you home as soon as possible and then you will rest and you will be back in no time and even stronger, baby. I know it’s a major setback but this can make you so much stronger. I’ll be with you every step of the way, trust me, my love.”

And he was right. You were back home after three days of hospitalization.

Walking through the front door of your shared home, all you wanted to do was lay down on the couch after a long car ride with Trent. You were so glad it was summer right now and Trent didn’t need to be back in training for at least three weeks.

“Come on, lay down, baby.” Trent said while guiding you to the living room, propping the pillows up to make you comfortable. “Is it okay like this?” He made sure.

“Yeah it’s fine. Thank you.” You said to him, laying your head back feeling the exhaustion kick in immediately. You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath through your nose.

“I’ll bring you some water, babe. Jude and Jobe will also come in like an hour to spend a little time here.”

“Thanks, babe.” You told him as he handed you a cup full of fresh water.

“Do you need anything else? Some food maybe?” Trent asked you quietly as he noticed your scrunched up face showing your headache.

“No i’m good for now. I think i just need to sleep, i feel the nausea and the headache kick in, to be honest.” You answered him honestly.

“Okay, I’ll leave then.” Trent said as he got up and started to leave the room.

“Babe!” You called out as loud as you could right now.

“What’s up?” He said, turning around quickly.

“Can you please stay, i need you right now.” You admitted quietly, you were possibly feeling the worst you’ve ever felt in a long time and all you wanted was for your boyfriend to make it okay again.

“Yeah, of course. Come here.” You heard a voice whisper in your ear quietly as you felt the strong arms you knew all too well wrap around your fragile and exhausted body and a kiss being pressed to your forehead.

And that was what made the pain go away for some time.

And the next few weeks weren’t any different. You fought with nausea and headaches a lot but Trent and your brothers were there to help you. They made it all seem so much less painful and miserable, you were fast recovered and ready to go back to training to come back even stronger than you felt before.

#trent alexander arnold fic #trent aa #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #judespoets #taa #taa66 #liverpool football club #liverpool fc #lfc

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