#liverpool one shot

[insidekatmind]

We Need to Talk~ Trent Alexander Arnold

Wearning: +18,smut, I was inspired by a story I read that I don't remember.

You had practiced this moment in your head a hundred times. Every step of the conversation was carefully planned. You knew exactly what points to hit to make it clear to Trent that you weren’t happy, that things needed to change. But as you stood in the doorway, watching him casually sip water at the kitchen counter, all your rehearsed words crumbled.

He noticed you right away, his brown eyes locking on yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. That damn smile—confident, knowing, and infuriatingly irresistible.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was low and smooth, like velvet. He tilted his head slightly, a strand of dark hair falling across his forehead. “Rough day?”

You swallowed hard, already feeling your resolve slipping. Stick to the plan. Don’t get distracted.

“I think…” you began, your voice shaky. Trent raised an eyebrow, waiting. His gaze was so intense it felt like he could see right through you.

“I think we could use a break,” you finally managed to spit out, your words hanging heavy in the air.

For a moment, he just stared at you, like he was processing what you said. Then he took another sip of water, the glass clinking softly as he set it down.

“A break, huh?” he repeated, as if tasting the words. He licked his lips, smirking. “What for, baby?”

His voice was so calm, so unaffected. It irritated you. Did he not understand how serious this was? Or did he just not care?

“For us,” you said, trying to sound confident, though your voice wavered. “We’re not… working.”

Trent stepped away from the counter, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. His movements were lazy, casual, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. The closer he got, the more your heart pounded.

“Not working?” he echoed, stopping just a few inches away. “That’s funny. Because we seemed to be working just fine last night.”

You blushed at the memory. Last night had been intense, passionate, like always. But that was the problem. All you ever did was fight and fuck. The highs were too high, and the lows were exhausting.

“Trent, I’m serious,” you whispered, but your voice betrayed your weakness. He noticed.

He leaned in, his hands bracing on either side of you, trapping you against the counter. His scent—musky with a hint of his cologne—made your knees weak.

“You think?” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours. “You think we need a break?”

Your breathing was uneven now, your mind foggy. You could barely think straight with him so close. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you knew he was doing it on purpose. He loved making you squirm.

“I…” You tried to remember what you were going to say, but his presence was overwhelming. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you two crackling like electricity.

“You don’t want a break,” he said softly. “You just want me to beg.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. He was always so damn confident, so sure of himself. And the worst part? He was right. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he cared.

“Maybe I do,” you shot back, trying to regain control. “Maybe I want to see if you care enough to fight for us.”

Trent chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made your core tighten. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.

“Baby, you know I care,” he murmured. “But you and I both know what we’re best at.”

His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, teasing. You knew you should push him away, demand a real conversation. But instead, your body leaned into him, craving his touch.

“Trent…” you whispered, your voice pleading. You hated how weak you sounded.

“Shh,” he whispered back, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. “Let me remind you.”

His lips finally captured yours, and you melted into him. The kiss was slow at first, teasing, but quickly deepened. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pressing you against the counter. Every rational thought vanished as his mouth claimed yours.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing.

“See?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “We work, baby. We always have.”

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Trent, we can’t keep doing this. We need more than… this.”

He sighed, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I know.” His voice was softer now, more vulnerable. “But you have to admit, we’re damn good at this.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything—that would make this easier. But all you saw was Trent, the man you couldn’t quit.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We are.”

And as he kissed you again, you knew the conversation wasn’t over. But for now, you let yourself get lost in him, one more time.

And here you are, fucking on your living room couch

"Always so good at riding my cock, yes babygirl?" Trent teases you as you moan and ride him harder.

He chuckled as you moved your hips, the friction causing you to clench around him. He held himself together, his own pride and ego always getting the best out of him. Trent was never the type to stay quiet either. He was always in charge. But right now he let you do whatever you wanted. Let you ride him like a horse he knew you were desperate enough to do. His hands grabbed your hips, making you move back and forth with his eyes boring into your soul.

“You’re such a greedy girl. You couldn’t just walk away, could you?”.

You whimper and shake your head as you ride him with more passion. You felt so full.

He lifted you up, throwing your body off him to make you sit back down on the couch. Trent was on you immediately, towering your body and caging you in his muscular arms. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you, leaning down to capture your pouty lips in a bruising kiss. His body was pressed against yours, making you feel his heartbeat against your chest. And he felt yours too.he started to thrust his hips even harder fucking you

"tell me babygirl do you want to leave me again?" he asks and increases his thrusts and you scream scratching his back.

He chuckled watching you struggle, eyes on his and lips parted open, moans leaving your mouth way too quickly. Trent smirked knowing he was doing a good job at making you feel good. He could go like this all night, but he wanted to hear you beg. He loved when you didn’t hold anything

"I asked you a question babygirl" Trent whispers to you

“No…”

You mumbled under your breath, looking away from his intense glare that had you feeling the heat all over your body. You knew Trent wasn’t getting the answer he wanted. But you were stubborn and wanted him to work for it. He smiled, knowing that you were trying to play a game with him. He knew you too well. He leaned in until his face almost touched your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“No? Hmm. Should I stop then?”

"nono trent no, keep going" you started to get agitated holding him to you with your legs. Your pussy has tightened his cock more and he moaned.

His mind was always blown by how eager you were. You hated being teased and yet here you were, asking and begging him to touch you. It was cute seeing your face turn serious from being pleasured to mad when he wasn’t giving you what you wanted. Trent knew he was testing your patience right now and the way your eyes spoke loudly was making him almost lose it.

“But what’s the magic word, babygirl?”

You whimpered looking at him. "Please."

Trent watched your face in fascination as tears slipped out from your eyes. You looked so beautiful, but he knew how to put it all on hold until you were a mumbling mess under him. He wasn’t mad, he never would be. He knew you needed each other, no matter how much you tried to convince the both of you otherwise. He knew that he couldn’t imagine anyone else in your place. You were going to be the death of him like that, trying to push him away when he wasn’t gonna let you.

He wiped the tears off your hot, burning skin with his fingers. Trent always hated seeing you cry. It was like he was hurting too by watching you like that. He loved you despite all the arguing and fighting. And he had a feeling you felt the same way.

“Shhh, shh. Doll, I got you. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He mumbled while looking into your eyes. Trent leaned down, capturing your lips back into a passionate kiss, his hands gently caressing the skin of your arms. “Please, trust me,”

Those words sent chills down your spine like they always do. Trent never needed to say it twice for you to know that you could trust him, but he always mumbled it just to remind you that he knew. He pulled back looking into your eyes as close as possible. He had a way of looking at you sometimes.

“Can you do something for me?” and you whispered a little yes.

He smiled at you instantly answering without any hesitation. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you would give in to him. But Trent was too happy with the outcome.

“Lean back,” he whispered against your ear, “against the couch.”

Trent had something in his mind, something he wanted you to see. He had an idea, and for that he needed you to be in a different position. He watched you shifting position, sitting back and resting against the pillows. You looked at him, wondering what he was going to do. Trent’s big frame was still in front of you, caging you.

He was sitting on his knees, hovering over you. His eyes travelled down slowly, taking in your skin and curves. Trent’s hands started to trace over your naked form, his palm was soft and gentle, slowly moving down your body.

“You are perfect,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes still on you. “So perfect, darling.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

Trent continued, his touch barely there but not faint enough to make you feel cold. He was tracing every single part of your frame like it was going to be the last time he saw you. His brain was going crazy, trying to remember every single thing about you forever. He was always so gentle with you, like you could break under his palms at any minute.

But even when he was like that, Trent always managed to be in charge. He always had to make sure you knew who was the one in control here. To remind you who you belonged to. Even when his body was pressed against yours but he was barely touching you, he was still the one making you feel like he wanted you to in that moment.

His hand gently grabbed your chin, making you look up into his deep brown eyes that could always tell what was on his mind. “Do you know how good you make me feel?” he muttered lowly, as the words hung in the air.

You moan hearing his words "Trent please" “Please, what, doll?” he asked with a smirk, “Tell me what you want, use your words.”

"please trent i need to come" you whine .

He chuckles as he looks at you. He wasn’t going to give in. Trent wanted to make you suffer and you knew that. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself for much longer either.*

“Not just yet… you’re gonna have to wait a little longer.”

Trent leaned down, his lips attaching on your skin. He left a path of kisses down the side of your neck, his teeth nibbling at your sensitive spot. He knew exactly how much it would drive you crazy, and that was his intention.

you moan and grind on his cock trying to get him to move again .Hearing you whine was his favourite sound ever. But Trent was still being stubborn and wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. He was teasing his own patience right now and he knew he was going to give in soon.

“Tch, impatient much?” He whispered against your neck.

you whine and rub yourself harder "trent please i need it"

Trent groaned against your skin, his own body begging him to do what you said. But Trent was always too proud to give in so quickly. He liked you when you were begging. And it seemed like you were going to have to try harder to get what you wanted

“You sound so needy, doll… so desperate for me, hm?”

You moan "please daddy I need it I'm begging you" .That did the trick. Hearing you saying those three magic words was always his weak spot, he felt like he was losing control over himself. He growled and moved suddenly, caging you completely underneath him.

“Say that again.” He demanded, his eyes dark and burning into yours.

He was breathing heavily, his hands touching your curves. Trent wanted you so badly right now, but he was forcing himself to wait a bit more. He couldn’t deny the fact that watching you writhing underneath him was making him insane.

"please daddy" you groan

That was the last straw. Trent didn’t want to wait any longer, your request in the form of a word you could feel from how he was looking at you made him completely lose it. He let go of his control and gave in to his desires.

Trent roughly pinned your arms above your head, taking them in one of his big hands and leaving almost no room to move for you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth like he was trying to devour you. He was needy and eager. He moved his hips closer to yours, the tip of his length teasing your folds while he inside your pussy. You moaned feeling him fucking you in an animalistic way and you moaned loudly.

"love, I'm coming" you moan. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours. He could feel you tightening around him as you were getting close. There was no turning back now, Trent looked completely obsessed and addicted to the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth.

“I know, doll. Go on, I’ve still got you… Come for me,” he whispered with a smile on his lips

you moan and climax. You had squeezed his cock so hard that he came too.

You both were panting now, taking in everything that just happened. He smiled, watching you breathing heavily while he tried to steady his own.

“You’re too damn perfect.” He mumbled, burying his head into your neck. Trent was completely spent and satisfied, but he hadn’t forgotten you were mad at him. “You know that I can’t let you go now, right?”

Trent leaned up again to look into your eyes, not breaking the eye contact for a second. Trent’s gaze was intense as always. “Not now, not anytime. You’re mine, always been mine, baby. There’s no way I’m going to let you pull that break bullshit again.” he added in a voice that almost sounded as a warning.

He continued, this time a bit softer as he spoke. “I’m not gonna let you go… not when we know how good we can be together.”

He moved to lay beside you instead, still not taking his eyes off of you. Trent’s face was expressionless, his eyes revealing just a bit of the thoughts running through his head.

You nod "we must try to be less superficial"

He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up into a small smirk. Trent knew he could come off as superficial, and he knew you would call him out on that.

“You know how much I like when you call me out, doll… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm over your naked waist and pulling you close against him. You smile and huge him

He smiled back as he wrapped his arms around you, enjoying the skin to skin contact. Trent always loved holding you close like that, it made him feel like he could finally relax in your presence.

“Mhm, doll… I guess you’re forgiven for what you did today.” he mumbled against your hair, still keeping you close.

you giggle and kiss his forehead .He closed his eyes, the feeling of your sweet kiss bringing a sense of comfort, like there was nothing else in the world except for you two. There was a small silence and Trent broke it after a little while.

“Doll, can I ask you something?” he asks softly looking at you

"Yes baby" you whispered softly

He kept his arms around you, still not letting go. His voice was gentle but serious at the same time when he asked the question.

“You know that we’re going to have to talk this through, right? All the stuff that happened… all the fights, all the times we both got jealous. I…”

Trent paused and looked down at you, “I wanna do better. I don’t want us to be like this anymore. How would you feel about that?”

you smile sweetly and caress his back "i would like trent"

Trent felt a soft smile appearing on his lips as you spoke. Trent was happy to know you wanted the same thing. He knew it wasn’t going to be an overnight fix, but he was willing to work on it with you if that meant you’d be happier.

“You know how stubborn we both can get, doll. We’re gonna have to work on that too, right?” he asked with a chuckle.

You laugh "we can do it". Trent smiled at your optimism and positive attitude. Trent knew that having you on his side would make everything ten times easier. He couldn’t deny that he already felt better, like a knot in his stomach was slowly untangling thanks to your reassuring words.

“Yeah, we can do it. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’ll be worth it if I get to call you mine,” he muttered, burying his head in your hair.

You smile sweetly and kiss him in text. you loved being and you always prefer to go back to trent and fix things.

[f1daydreamers]

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

[afterglowsainz]

hi you said you were free to request someone you haven’t mentioned so i’m wondering if you’d be willing to write something for trent alexander arnold?? anything you won’t but i love angsty -> fluff

i look in people’s windows | trent alexander-arnold

summary: you struggle to move on from your break up with trent until one day you have to face him at your favorite coffee shop

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this wasn't very specific which was great (in a way) because the angst to fluff plot gave me an idea for my tortured athletes series! (i also didn't mean to make this so long, but i hope you enjoy it)

you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.

you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.

trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.

so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day.  maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.

sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?

“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.

“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.

you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.

“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.

you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.

“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.

“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.

before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.

“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.

“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.

neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.

“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.

“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.

“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.

you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.

“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.

“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”

a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.

“how are you?” he repeats his question.

“good.” you lie to him. “you?”

“bad.” he says.

“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.

“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”

your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.

“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.

“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.

to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.

“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.

“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.

why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.

“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”

his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.

“i think about you too.”

your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.

“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.

“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.

“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.

“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.

at that moment you felt grateful for this little plot from destiny that had brought you and trent together again. you didn’t have to wonder ‘what if, you didn’t have to avoid seeing him downtown, you didn’t have to look into people's windows anymore. his eyes meet yours one more time, and now you know.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hello! Could you write something about jealous VVD. You're out with the girls and they record you having fun, shaking ass and stuff. Obviously, he's not happy about it.

Thank you ☺️

reader’s not shaking her ass because i can’t shake my ass so i wouldn’t be able to relate but she’s having some real fun 🍾🍾

virgil van dijk x reader

‼️ big virgil is mad at us, sorry + him being a little possessive

as long as you’re mine

it was rare that you had time to meet up with your friends and have a fun night out. two of your best friends had kids so it was impossible for them to stay out over 9 pm and the others were much into their perfect wives role that they didn’t even had time for themselves.

but tonight, somehow, you managed to get them all together to have some real fun in a very special club downtown liverpool.

it felt like it’s been years since you last saw them and you couldn’t wait to gossip about anyone again.

virgil wasn’t really excited about the idea of you clubbing all night. not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust the people around you. he knew how man could get when they see a pretty lady, the knew it very well.

so he tried to convince you to stay home but you refused and met up with your friends.

you had a nice dinner and then you all went to the heaven club, your favourite place in all the town. virgil didn’t like it so he never came with you but tonight you finally had the chance to have some real fun with your friends and you couldn’t wait for it.

one drink first, then a second one and a third one. one man offered you a glass of wine that you kindly refused so he offered it to one of your friends that accepted. you all were laughing and having fun when, all of sudden your phone started ringing.

virgil was calling you but you never picked up.

what you didn’t know was that someone was filming you and posting everything on twitter. you weren’t doing anything wrong, you were just laughing and chatting while some of your friends were dancing and shaking their asses but still, someone managed to get your pictures and videos out on twitter.

you never picked up your phone that night, not until the uber you all booked, left you at home around 4 am. you weren’t that drunk but you didn’t trust yourself to drive.

you removed your heels before entering your home, thinking that virgil was already fast asleep so you were kinda surprised when you saw him sitting on the couch watching the news on tv.

“virgil?” you called him and he turned around to look at you “what are you doing still awake? i told you not to wait for me…”

“i had to wait for you in case you never came back home…i don’t know, what if you fell asleep on some cheap couch in some cheap club?” he said standing up and looking at you.

“what? what are you talking about?”

“you know damn well what i’m talking about…” he was mad but you didn’t know why.

“i can see you are mad but i don’t know why…care to explain it?” you asked him a little confused.

“did you really have to do all of that? acting like you don’t have a husband waiting for you at home? if you wanted attention you just had to say it…”

“what the fuck are you talking about virgil!” you started to get mad as how he kept being so obnoxious.

he took two seconds to take his phone out of his pocket and show you everything that’s being going on twitter “this is what i’m talking about!” he showed you one of the videos where you were seen talking with a man - the man you refused the wine from but of course virgil didn’t know that. he showed you another video of you dancing with one of your friends, and it wasn’t the dancing itself to upset him, it was the fact that a man was making inappropriate comments about you.

“virgil…that man offered me wine and i said no, that’s why i was talking with him…and sorry, but it’s not my fault i wanted to have fun with my friends and men can’t keep their dicks in their pants…i’m not apologising for that” you calmed down after seeing the videos and why he reacted that way “but you gotta trust me virgil, and it hurts me knowing that you don’t trust me”

“i know it’s not your fault…i just, i hate seeing men talking about you like you would give them a chance…and i’m sorry for overreacting…i trust you, i love you, it’s the people around you that i don’t trust, it’s the people around that want to take advantage of you and if something has to happen…”

“virgil” you chuckled “nothing is gonna happen okay? i just had a few drinks and i’m capable of defending myself if something happens okay?”

“okay but”

“no buts…”

“but” he kept going “you are mine, my wife, my love, my woman, mine, got it?” he asked, his voice showing more authority.

“i’m yours virgil, as long as you are mine” you answered back.

his lips turned into a smirk, while his hands moved to your hips “i’m definitely yours, as i sad again, you’re mine…” he whispered into your ear and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or not but you were feeling butterflies all over your body “so now, you let me take care of you as a proper husband should do, got it?” he asked and you nodded.

you definitely wouldn’t have let him go so easily.

[judeloverr]

not without you- trent alexander arnold

summary: not being able to sleep your boyfriend persists on helping you out

pairings: trent alexander arnold x reader word count: 1.7k

an: not sure how i feel about this, kinda hate it

the light snoring of your boyfriend directly against your ear who lay beside you was one of the many things that kept you awake on this saturday early morning, grazing your freshly done nails along trent arms which was lay across your stomach you turned your head to your bed side table alarm clock.

3:38

you go back to staring up at the ceiling attempting to fall asleep by counting the imaginary sheep in your head. you feel trents arms tighten around you and his face nuzzle more into your neck even though there wasn’t any more room, since yesterday afternoon he had been clinging to you like a koala bear, no reason whatsoever. you thought maybe because he was going away for 2 days for an important match you weren’t complaining of course the extra affection of your boyfriend always made you happy, just thinking about it made you want to sleep and cuddle up next to him but you simply just couldn’t. you stare up at the ceiling taking a deep breath in and exhaling quietly, envying trent at the moment.

you carefully remove trents arm from around your waist, placing it down on the bed, while you shift yourself from under him and get out of the bed trent makes a weird sound and turns to be on his side on the bed where he never normally sleeps. you place your bare feet on the cold ground, shivers travelling up your body, and move towards the kitchen.

the light from the kitchen makes you squint slightly not used to the bright light due to lying in the dark for the past 3 hours. dragging your feet across the floor, making your way towards the cupboard. you grab a glass and fill it up with cold water and instantly drinking all of it, after wiping your mouth with the back of your hand the feeling of warm hands on the side of your thighs make you jump out of your skin, gasping sharply and bringing your hand to your heart you feel trent place his head in between your neck and shoulder blades. his hands rub against your skin and move up your body and underneath your shirt which was paired with a pair of panties. you feel his arms wrap around your waist and squeeze softly.

not saying anything you lean against his chest, feeling a hoodie he must have put on instead of his bare chest which he went to bed with. “why aren’t you in bed?” trent asked quietly due to being muffled by your neck. you place your hands on his, rubbing his skin with the pan of your fingers. “hm?” he lifts his head and turn to look at the side of your face. you turn your head to look at his seeing his eyes still puffy from sleep and the hood of his hoodie pulled over his head. 

“can’t sleep, its fine don’t worry about me” you reply lifting your hand up and trace his lips with the pad on your thumb while your other hand holds his, still clutching onto you. you lean closer to him, placing a light kiss on his lips, his lips soft pulling away to nudge your nose against his lovingly then turning to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing trents hands to go on your lower back and underneath your shirt tracing shapes along your skin.

trent leans in this time a gives you a light kiss then trailing another one across your check before pulling away and looking into your eyes again. “no until you do, not without you” 

you sigh in frustration and look at him pleading with your eyes, you scratch his neck lightly “you have a match and you are going away, you need all the sleep trent” you can see him going all sleepy just by the scratch of his neck, trent leans forward placing his forehead on your shoulder. 

“yeah” he pauses “with you in the bed” he murmurs.

“how do you sleep when im not there then?” he lifts his head from your shoulder and cheekily smiles. a giddy feeling settling in your stomach.

“why do you think i always call you when i go to bed?” he states and cocks his head to the left questioning you, a grin appears on your face, hands moving to his shoulders and squeezing them slightly, relaxing him once again. 

“but why can’t you sleep?” he questions concern written over his face, he raises his eyebrows waiting for a explanation , his hands moving to your waist now.

you shrug your shoulders “don’t know”

“mh” 

“i really don’t know trent, i think work mostly, its stressing me out and just normal other things” trent nods his head not really knowing what to say, he turns to look outside to the pitch black garden, a comforting silence is created when trent doesn’t reply but is broken when his breaks into a little laugh and turns to look back at you.

“my snoring keep you awake?” you laugh a little, reaching out and rubbing his cheek softly.

“yeah always” you reply with a roll of your eyes. a silence appears again, you lean your head against his muscly chest, his hand coming up to the back of your head, holding your place there.

“you want tea?” he questions looking down at you, you shake your head. a whine comes from the back of your throat as trent steps back from your guys embrace, a bit annoyed as you were comfortable with leaning on him. he grabs your hand squeezing softly and starts to pull you away from the sink counter.

“come on, we’ll go back to bed” you try not to go with him, knowing you won’t be able to fall asleep and you will just be lying there all night while he sleeps peacefully next to you.

you groan and drag your feet while he turns off the light, rounding the corner and start to make his way up the stairs towards your bedroom. “but i wont be able too” 

trent shrugs his shoulders looking down at you a smile creeping up on his face as he watches you slowly make your way up the stairs “then well stay up and talk, you dont have work” 

“you need to though, you leaving in the morning” you stop walking up the stairs, pausing half way up and look at your boyfriend who looks like he desperately needs sleep. 

‘don’t worry about me, i can sleep on the coach” you pulls you with more force, you grumble under your breath once you make it to the top of the stairs. trent pauses at you, looking down at you raising his eyebrows once again waiting for you to start complaining.

“no trent, its not fa-“ you start but is cut off by him leaning into you and pressing his lips against yours. the sudden movement making you jump slightly “shush” he says against your lips and grabs the side of your head, tilting your head back as he moves his lips against yours slowly. he tongue traces against your bottom lip swallowing a moan that escaped your mouth. you pull away, out of breath. “trent”

“don’t worry about me” he says pressing one more kiss to your mouth. you opened your mouth to say something else. “come on, stop complaining ill get you to sleep”

you roll your eyes at his persistence and you allow him to pull you into your shared bedroom, darkness filling your eyes, you glance towards the alarm clock which you had been staring at all night now reading 4:00am which also gives a small light showing you where trent is.

“trent you have to ben awake in 4 hours’ you point to the clock. you watch as he removes his hoodie revealing his bare chest which made your head dizzy every time this man would get dressed or undressed infront of you. you watch as his arms move quickly to move the duvet and slotting himself into the bed and pulling the covers over himself. he sits up on his pillow glancing at you the patting the side of your bed indicating you to get in.

“come on then” you place one knee on the bed and start to crawl to him, a cheeky grin as his thoughts went all dirty. “last time you crawling to me we-“

“trent stop it” a giggle left his mouth as he watched you get under the covers next to him. he moves to lie on his back, grabbing your upper thigh and moving it to go over his body. moving closer to him, feeling his body heat without even touching him, you place you head on his chest and arm over his chest. a huff leaves your mouth as you feel trent hand go up and down your thigh then proceed to go to your ass and pat it lightly a couple of times.

“hands to your self arnold” you move your head closer into his chest, his heartbeat calming you slightly. he doesn’t say anything and moves his hand back to your thigh makes shapes along your skin. you feel trents breathing even out, lift your head to see his eyes closed. you roll your eyes at him and attempt to move out of his hold but as you move trents hand grips your thigh and his hand around your back pushes you back into his chest, smudging your cheek into his bare skin.

“not asleep yet baby” you hum as a reply, feeling trents fingers trace your back and press a couple of kisses to your forehead. just to try you shut your eyes, focusing on trents hand over your body, moving along your things and on your back and the way his lips pressed against your skin. the movement of his chest and heartbeat coasting through your ears brought a yawn out of your mouth.

“i love you” you heard trent say and you eventually fell into the states of tiredness which had taken you about 5 hours to get in.

“love you more”

[pedriache]

Birch tree — Trent Alexander Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Bellingham!Reader

Summary: Your brother’s best friend’s birthday was a quiet one. You were only there because none of your family could bring Jude and he’d needed a ride. When you found Trent sitting alone, watching the party, you offer to keep him company. You were pleasantly surprised to find a new found friendship blossom between the two of you.

Word count: 600+

Disclaimer/s: fluff, fluff, and more fluff ^_^ reader is Jude’s older sister!

A/N: On a Trent grind and i’m sick about it.

The soft green grass wilted beneath your feet. Every step you took, you watched the prickly grass flatter and slowly but surely bounce back. The party was lame, a bunch of guys and girls milling about, talking about nothing all too important or interesting.

Looking up, you spot Trent, the birthday boy, leaning against a birch tree. He was watching the group of people quietly, a soda in his hand that he sipped from every few minutes.

Curiously, you made your way toward him. “Why aren’t you enjoying your party?” You ask, standing a few feet away.

Trent glances up, sending you a quick smile. He recognized you as Jude’s older sister, though he’d never really talked to you before. “Eh, got bored.” He shrugs.

Nodding, you awkwardly glance around. Do you leave or… “You can sit.” The dark haired man chuckles, his hand flopping to point at the ground next him.

You swallow nervously, doing as he suggested and plopping down beside him. “Parties aren’t your thing?” You quirk an eyebrow, turning your head to face him.

Trent shakes his head. “Not really, only when i’m in the mood.” He looks at you, “and you?”

You shake your head just the same as he did. “Oh absolutely not. I only have half a brain to converse with, then i’m begging for a way out of it.” But for some reason, that wasn’t the case with your brothers friend. You didn’t mind the conversation with him, in fact, you welcomed it.

“I would’ve pegged you for the social type.” You add, “I mean, you always seemed that way when i’ve seen you.”

“You’ve watched me?” Trent grins, his smile lines showing as he watches the crowd intently.

“Don’t let that get to your head. I watch everyone.” You quip, leaning back so you were resting against the tree as well. Your shoulder brushed Trent’s, but he didn’t move away.

Silence enveloped the two of you. It was comfortable, though. Neither of you needed to talk, but you both had a silent understanding that each others presence was welcomed, talking or not.

For a solid half hour, the two of you keep each other company. Small bits of conversation happen, but for the most part it’s quiet. That all comes to an end when one of Trent’s friends beckon him over.

He slowly stands, stopping to glance down at you. “Are you going to stay here?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Yep. Have fun!” You smile up at him, but Trent doesn’t move. You raise your eyebrows, “what?”

Trent purses his lips, “uhm, that—“ He waves his hand between you and the tree, “well, I appreciated that.”

Your lips twitch into a heart warmed smile. “Of course, i’m always down for a silent watch party.” You chuckle, tugging the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands.

“We could always do it again, whenever you want.” Trent cocks his head to the side, eyeing you curiously. “You have my number, right?”

You nod. “I’ll text you sometime. Now go, your friends look impatient.” You lean to the side, catching sight of his friends with their hands on their hips looking very much so impatient. Trent laughs and nods, giving you a small wave before he walks down the hill to greet his friends.

Smiling to yourself, you look down at your hands. You had been pleasantly surprised by how little you needed to talk to him, to feel comfortable. A small warm feeling builds in the pit of your stomach and you know you’d be taking him up on that offer sooner rather than later.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Lmk if you would like to be tagged in any future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[strawberryblue-blog]

Blue's masterlist 🫧

Requests: closed for a while

Categories:

Smut 🫦

Fluff/Soft 🎀

Sad/Angst 💌

—Imagines.

Ruben Dias.

B-day cake. 🎀

Valentine's Day. 🎀🫦

A family with you. 🎀🫦

Dress. 🎀🫦

Goodbye, Ruben. 💌

The most beautiful woman. 🎀💌

Babysitter. 🎀

Babysitter. Part 2. 🎀

Ride on me. 🫦

Bad girl. 🫦

Number three.

Mason Mount.

Say that again. Part 1 💌

Say that again. Part 2. 🎀💌

Baby blue love. 🎀

She's mine too. Part 1. 🎀

She's mine too. Part 2. 🎀

Joao Felix.

Last time. 🫦💌

Fuck boy. 🎀💌

Disaster. Part 1. 🎀

Disaster. Part 2. 🫦

Call out my name. 🫦

Christian Pulisic.

Lover. 🎀

Pedri Gonzalez.

Brother's best friend. 🎀

Comfort boy. 🎀💌

Love again. Part 1. 💌

Love again. Part 2. 🎀💌

Love again. Part 3. 🎀💌

Love again. Part 4. 🎀

Stop calling me that. 🫦🎀

Between us. 🫦

Stop talking and kiss me. 🎀

Good girl. 🫦

Real love. 🎀🫦

Jude Bellingham.

It's about fate. 🎀

It's about fate. Part 2. 🎀

The way I look at you. 🎀🫦

Pablo Gavi.

Love hate. Part 1 🎀

Love hate. Part 2 🎀🫦

Love hate. Part 3 🎀

Love hate. Part 4 🎀

Neighbors in trouble. Part 1. 🫦

Neighbors in trouble. Part 2. 🫦🎀

You don't know me. 🎀

Seven minutes in heaven. 🎀🫦

Guilty as Sin. 💌

So strong. 🎀

Summer love. 🎀

If you want, take it. 🎀

Our home. 🎀

Fermin Lopez.

Sea of love. 🎀💌

Sea of love. Part 2. 🎀

Comeback to me. 🎀💌

Marc Guiu.

You're mine. 🎀

Héctor Fort.

First love. 🎀

Stay away. 💌

Beg for you. 🫦

I love you, I'm sorry. 🎀

Alejandro Balde.

Sunset. 🫦🎀

—Headcanon.

The type of Boyfriend. Mason Mount. 🎀

The type of Bestfriend. Jude Bellingham. 🎀

The type of Roommate. Fermin Lopez. 🎀

The type of Husband. Ruben Dias. 🎀

The type of Boyfriend. Marc Guiu. 🎀

The type of Friend with benefits. P. Gavi. 🫦

The type of Boyfriend. Joao Felix. 🎀

The type of Boyfriend. Alejandro Balde. 🎀

The type of Friend with benefits. R. Dias. 🫦

The type of Boyfriend. Pau Cubarsi. 🎀

—Reaction.

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 💌🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🫦

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 💌🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona. 🎀

FC Barcelona.

—SFW/NSFW alphabet.

A to Z. Ruben Dias. 🫦

A to Z. Pedri Gonzalez. 🫦

A to Z. Pablo Gavi. 🫦

A to Z. Lamine Yamal. 🎀

A to Z. Ferran Torres. 🫦

A to Z. Alejandro Balde. 🫦

A to Z. Fermín López. 🫦

A to Z. Jude Bellingham. 🫦

A to Z. Pau Cubarsí. 🎀

A to Z. Héctor Fort. 🫦

A to Z. Marc Guiu. 🫦

A to Z. Héctor Fort. 🎀

And more coming.

[joaofelix70]

MISS DIPLOMAT & MR. CHARMING |

dominik szoboszlai x female reader.

author's note: this handsome man's living rent-free in my head. he's a freaking masterpiece. talented, funny, charismatic, attractive. i watched interviews, tiktok videos made by supporters and much more to understand a little bit of his language, personality and what he does towards friends and loved ones. laughed a lot! i made my homework as a writer, hope you enjoy it! (compliments and any kind of retributions are more than welcomed).

summary: your job is involving the commitment of unify the population and create interrelations to another countries, using the eurocup qualifiers and the hungary national team executions. you just didn't expect to fall in love with the no. 10's captain player.

words and characters: 1,811/11,223. it was three days working too hard on this story. i'm begging for your consideration, lol.

────

sports diplomacy: it's the unique power of sport to bring people, nations, and communities closer together via a shared love of physical pursuits. this responsibility is the reason of a transition between strangers to connected individuals, advancing foreign policy goals and augmenting sport for development initiatives. the complex landscape where sport, politics, and diplomacy overlap become clearer, as do the pitfalls of using sport as a tool for overcoming and mediating separation between people, nonstate actors, and states. the power of sport has never been more important. so far, the 21st century has been dominated by disintegration, introspection, and the retreat of the nation-state from the globalization agenda. in such an environment, scholars, students, and practitioners of international relations are beginning to rethink how sport might be used to tackle climate change, gender inequality, and the united nations sustainable development goals, for example. to boost these integrative, positive efforts is to focus on the means as well as the ends, that is, the diplomacy, plural networks, and processes involved in the role sport can play in tackling the monumental traditional and human security challenges of our time. credits: international studies association and oxford university press.

────

MLSZ (hungarian football federation) ──

new training ground at telki.

"i can't believe that being in places like this made up my most theoretically utopian childhood dreams. what a progress in front of me!" you still witness exciting moments where you pinch yourself, trying to believe in the reality that surrounds you: visiting the new training center of the players who are just a few meters away from you, getting ready to represent an entire country.

"your presence is our privilege. a voice of the spread of eurocup to our nation, right here…" the technical director gives you deference, obtaining a measure of humbleness and respect by you.

"the honor belongs to me in its entirety. grateful for having me, sir. while the view is immersive and captivating — my fervent congratulations to everyone involved — could we retreat from the pleasant glass-enclosed room and see everything closer, on the outside? please? i will never get used to this atmosphere." you pour politeness and charisma to the staffs around you, being directed to the proximity of the field and saluting the employees who pass through your path.

meet dominik — your szobo — instigates the nostalgic combination of detailed moments in which your thoughts display as photographic retrospectives. you're incapable to oppose the little enthusiastic laughs, fidgeting the rings between your fingers and avoiding possible suspicious glances from others. however, for you, this wouldn't actually work. the lives of you both are correlated, but different.

the training session is finished. clapping your hands and celebrating the performances, you greet the athletes and recognize some familiar people. nevertheless, reality slows down after those dark woody eyes capture through your soul. his arms tattoos are glorified by the sun's rays, the same illuminated smile is offered to you: that one you got during the very first time you saw him — instantly knowing he made you testimony the accuracy of freedom, catharsis and emotional amorous complement. that he'd be the one to introduce you what you never experienced, what you thought you'd never receive or deserve. what love truly is. when you were novices in your actual professions, not even imagining the future gifts of your unreal purposes.

"there you are!" intimately, dominik points at you, being reciprocated by vibrant nods and your old sort of secret — not that mysterious or serious — handshake. "még mindig emlékszel rá? (still remembering it?). you're a real one!"

"hogy tudnám elfelejteni? alábecsülsz engem. (how could i forget it? you're underestimating me)". your defensive actions demonstrate purposeful falseness. masking any sensitive, verbal or figurative communicative fragment from him is a difficulty that makes you give in over time. honestly, you never complain about this. it's like he wants to understand the factors and layers of you.

"a te kézfogás fickó. ne merészelj lecserélni engem. (your handshake man… don't you dare to replace me)". a shameless wink is send to you, butterflies acquiring space in your stomach.

"és hivatalosan is a szavamat adom rá. (and you officially have my word on it)." your gloss is pigmented against your fingers while you raise it up, displaying an oath, wondering if szoboszlai comprehends that his replacement in your life would be blasphemous.

"diplomata kisasszony, (miss diplomat)…" the hungarian fingerprints are shared and you recognize the sign to hold them, ready to perform your typical fashion icon moment. "gorgeous as always. go ahead! you know what to do!".

amusement surrounds you with the nickname's citation. although, you could feel some curious glances, from the outsiders, about the intimacy between you and him. "i appreciate, our top-class national bless…" you move your body in rotations to exclaim the outfit's characteristics, lifting your feet to show off the specificities of your heels. "how is your hair so well-groomed after sweating, though?" your arms cross and you raise an eyebrow in questioning, trying to hide your fascination.

"thank you, my number-one fan, but don't change the subject. finish our inside joke, c'mon!" dominik grabs his water bottle and spreads the cooling liquid on his forehead, wiping the glowing droplets across his face as he lifted his jersey high enough to exhibits his fortified abs.

your attention is directed to any surrounding scenery, throat being piked. szoboszlai pretends he doesn't notice, preventing to embarrass you.

"alright, alright! you've won, bájos úr… (mr. charming)". your final comment escapes as, practically, a whisper. you can't control the shy laughter, coupled with the considerable redness invading your cheeks.

"that's the secret to make my day!" using his tongue to reproduce a sharp noise, he matches your humorous reactions. "would you like me to show you the infrastructure changes? i'm just gonna take a shower!"

"i've already been granted a tour around here, but in case you insist…" during the dialogue, some athletes cross your space, wishing them good luck for the competition. your concentration on the activity is significant, at the point that dominik's silent admiration goes unnoticed.

"i mean, you know me! i'm gonna insist anyway, so…" he reaches your captivity, bringing you jollification.

"i'll rate you as a personal tour guide. now, go there!" jesting each other, you both exchange exaggerated reverences, like a challenge of who makes the most chaotic one.

────

walking around the area, various subjects are explored, informations entrusted. you ask and are updated about his ethereal younger sister.

portraits of the generations are framed. you magnifies his presence in celebratory pictures, dedicated to find him in the memories and achievements on that wall. pride shines from you and the hungarian finds it lovely.

"you know i'm a sucker for accents… they're much more than mere verbal characteristics, they're stories: life experiences, marks and scars. identities and cultural integrations." the topic is random. through generalized opinions, you're explaining conceptions and dominik is retaining mental observations. he exalts every scrap of your identity, like a faithful worshiper.

"basically, you're admitting being enchanted by my accent. i can see the stars in your eyes. a win is a win!" szoboszlai and his frequent attribute to physical touch, tickling your ears and playing with them. it doesn't bother you, actually: adoring the affection exuded by you and him. you feel like a little girl dealing with your one and only love.

"it's beautiful, how can you blame me? and hey, i know mine's making you grin too." he holds your arm, shivers running down your spine, the two of you being euphoric in the midst of your own enthusiasm.

"putting me against the wall? okay, hum… what were you saying before?" he's changing the subject and you have a natural wit to boo him. lifting his shoulders as a surrender, the hungarian focuses on the specific loose strands of his simple bracelet, which you get used to help him tie it again, willingly.

"trying to avoid the truth? fine! let me take care of you while i talk about my admiration towards globalization and communication. like, with every fiber of me…" you accept the conversation's direction and utter a 'voilà' towards the accessory's new appearance.

"that's why you're the best person i've ever seen doing this job." dominik compliments you, an act full of honesty.

"thanks a lot, mate. but which job? as your bracelet helper or my real one?" you provide tenderness, looking amused.

"i mean… both of them." szoboszlai chuckles, revealing courtesy by your continuous helpfulness.

"literally? because i know you know a lot of people. you're so young and already is the national team's captain." you nudge him in a form of tease. he's a starboy, it's undeniable.

"flattered! literally, thought. you were born for this, believe me." vulnerability collides to you, as his words are deliberated: emotions embracing you and warming your insides.

"dominik szoboszlai, my dear friend, you're gonna make me cry, right here. i'm sorry, i need to do it…"

innocent satisfaction builds strength over you and executes unthought-of approach to the tangibility of your gratitude — his colony enrapturing your sensitive olfaction — in the most out-of-control way. the sounds reach your hearing: a choir of angels singing hallelujah. he reciprocates the contact, laughing at your juvenile excitement. joining him and doing the same thing, harmonizing the triumph. in the separation of the touch, you both remain close to each other and the hungarian doesn't miss the opportunity to feel the softness of your side face, caressing the skin. appreciation and satisfaction invade your structure, delighting on the palm of his hand.

"just a dear friend? why are we pretending all this time?" dominik's reading you. the intimidation at the sight of him overhanging you is paralyzing. you don't usually back down, but in that instant — superior than your most repressed desires — your gasps are escaped.

"who is putting who against the wall now?" insisting and failing on your witty answers, shyness and uncertainty corrodes you.

"please, look at me! i'm not kidding anymore." his voice is questioning, intrigued — contradictorily vulnerable and calm — your rationality being fragmented, fragile.

"you know i'm not the kind of woman you're surrounding by, domi. i'm not an influencer, bikini model. i'm not a public figure. i don't live for the cameras and gossip platforms. i live to work hard. i didn't achieve any of this with some type of perk. my routine and your routine are based on traveling..." who could deny it? szoboszlai's always been all that you see. it's much more than a mere passion. your attraction to him is magnetic, intense, vivid. consequently, terrifying.

"i'm just asking for a chance, (your nickname). i don't lie when i say i've never met someone like you. i may be surrounded by a crowd and you'll still be the one to steal my attention, because nobody compares to you."

your eyelids are closed and the exhalation of his sigh penetrates your lungs with the numbing breath of life you've never experienced before. it's happening: the rare situation where thinking carefully about the pros and cons is unworthy, dumbness. your decision is made and the privilege's resolution unify your lips. the beginning demonstrates slowness and patience — the intensification through the concluded wait of the longed-for reality, transforming light and magical kisses into open mouths discovering each other and witnessing the endearment that both offer — hairs, necks, shoulders and waists captured.

"you're the first to create a meaningful presence in my mind and heart. i want you to be the last one too. i love you, kincs (my treasure). i'm finally brave enough to demonstrate it with no fears." dominik's forearm covers your upper torso. your back against his chest, noses resting on each others. rejoicing at the miraculous, incomparable circumstance.

"i love you, drágám (my precious). you're finally mine and it was so fucking worth waiting." his whisper: the living proof of celestial existence.

"how blessed we are…" intertwined bodies, coalesced essences. solitary melodies turning into the sweetest and most complete symphony.

[hamiltonells]

this man doesn’t get appreciated enough.

literally begging anyone to write for this man🫣

or I will👏🏼

(creds to owner)

literally on my knees for him

[digitaldiarystuff]

The Fight

thank you so much for this request i loved it and hope you did as well!!! please keep on sending somethings

————

pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Y/N

summary: you and Trent have an argument and he says some things that break your heart but he realizes what he did wrong and tries to apologize

genre: angst to fluff

————

“Hey baby I got groceries” you yelled into the hall entering your house with Trent. Today was a match day and Trent being injured, he couldn’t play.

“Hey” he simply said from the living room.

You quickly pecked his lips and laid everything you bought on the kitchen island. You were planning to have a cosy date night in with him especially since his mood has been down for a while. He was a very passionate man about his job and little hiccups affected his life.

“Would you like some steak or-

You were interrupted by the doorbell ringing and Trent opened it to reveal Dominik. You were shocked to say the least, but thought maybe he was here to drop off or pick something up.

“Hey mate” Trent hugged Dominik and seeing his smile made you feel better for a while.

“Hey Dom” you exited the kitchen to greet him with a hug.

“Hi, Y/N. Thank you for inviting me.” he kindly said, you liked Dominik you really did but you gave Trent a look expecting an explanation but he didn’t look your way and continued his conversation with his friend.

This was supposed to be a date night with just the two of you, you didn’t have to worry about work for the first time in a while and you thought this would be good for the pair of you but clearly, Trent had other plans.

You didn’t say anything more and went back to the kitchen to start preparing a meal with a sigh. You loved Trent getting out of his shell in the last year, he was more social than he’s ever been but you were a little hurt that’s it.

You decided to put your needs second and let him enjoy being with his friend, which happened quite often recently but you didn’t care. You knew he needed this.

“Can I help with anything?” Dominik asked from behind and you turned to him with a hopefully convincing smile.

“No, I got it. You’re the guest, please make yourself at home.” you said and he thanked you just grabbed two waters and left.

Even Dom came and asked if you need any help, but Trent didn’t, you thought. He was becoming more and more distant recently and you worried about him shutting you off. If he wanted to watch the game with his friends you’d happily agree and maybe invite some more people but this morning you told him you were thinking about having a date for you two at home and he just said mhm. He could’ve just said no.

You cooked the two steaks you’ve purchased and boiled vegetables to accompany them, it’s a good thing you weren’t feeling hungry anymore. At that moment, you felt more like a house maid than a girlfriend but you didn’t want to cause a scene in front of someone, you decided to wait until Dominik left to have a conversation with your boyfriend.

“Dinner’s ready.” you shouted into the living room and the boys made their way to the bar sitting down on stools.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Trent asked and you just gave him a look that said, drop it.

“No, I had a big lunch.” this was a lie, a lie Trent should be able to see but he didn’t. They thanked you for the food and you went upstairs to your room to cool off.

You were thinking about the right way to approach the situation because you didn’t want to have a big blown argument with Trent. You were just feeling a little under appreciated lately. He could understand that, right?

You didn’t even realized you drifted off, you were only awakened by some shuffling in your room. You panicked a little but quickly realized it was Trent opening and closing some drawers on your dresser.

“What are you doing?” you asked and he turned around. He was wearing pants and a new t-shirt and his hair was styled.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked again.

“Yeah, we’re going to celebrate the win with the boys.” he nonchalantly said and you felt the weight of the unspoken words from before again.

“And you didn’t ask me to come because…” you trailed off hoping he’d finish your sentence.

“Because we’re not attached at the hip Y/N. It’s just a couple of drinks, why are you being like this?” he asked and you narrowed your eyes.

“I’m being like what, Trent? I just wanted a night with you where we could enjoy some food and drinks while watching TV. Like a couple. Is that so much to ask?”

“Oh my days! You’re blowing this out of proportion, Dominik called and asked to come, what was I supposed to say?”

“You could’ve said I’m having dinner with my girlfriend but clearly, you couldn’t. And you’re here telling me you’re going out to a club before even talking to me at all? Am I your girlfriend or your housemate Trent? I was hoping to sort this out with you without having an argument, I wanted peace.”

“Yeah, clearly” he snorted and you felt your ears heating up with how little he cared about you pouring your heart to him.

“You know what, fine, go. It’s not like you being here is going to solve anything. Maybe I’ll be gone when you come back so you can have your peace.” you said with tears in your eyes, Trent was hurting you so much with not caring about your issues and not wanting to talk and sort everything out. He was never like this, he changed.

“Look I don’t need you bringing me down now Y/N, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

Before you could say anything, he walked out the door slamming it in the process and you felt your whole body freeze. You suddenly felt numb, Trent didn’t even care you threatened to leave, he didn’t even bat an eye. He didn’t say I love you like he used to and you started sobbing uncontrollably. You laid on the bed with tears on your face and thought about your good times, maybe it was true, everything comes to an end.

All you felt was a little disappointment but this last conversation left you broken. He wasn’t in love with you anymore.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that but it had to have been a couple hours because you heard the front door open and close which meant he came back. You couldn’t face him now, he’d only hurt you more so with your back to the door you pretended to be asleep. Trent slowly made his way to your bathroom and he came out after a while, he shuffled around the closet and changed making his way to the bed. You were trying so hard to not break down again but once he plopped down on the bed your body started shaking again. He noticed and sighed loudly putting one arm on your waist pulling you to his chest.

You wanted to fight him, get out of his touch but he was the only thing that could calm you down at the moment and you hated him and yourself for it. You leaned in his touch not trusting your logic. You needed his comfort.

“I know you’re awake.” he whispered in your ear but you couldn’t say anything, just laid there with a trembling body.

“I love you” he tried again and you broke down immediately.

He hurriedly turned you over and looked at your tear stained red puffy face with concern in his eyes. This was the most emotion you’ve seen him have in a while.

“Y/N, baby, shh. It’s okay. I’m sorry I’m so sorry.” he said while wiping your tears and pulling you closer to his chest. You kept crying and then you shoved his chest.

“Not good enough. You don’t get to be a good boyfriend now, you left me like this and came back hours later. Do you know how shitty that felt?” you asked him and he looked away ashamed of his behavior.

“You’re right and I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you I swear. I love you Y/N and I’m sorry for shutting you out it’s just I’m feeling a little lost lately.” he confessed and you couldn’t help but put your hand on his cheek to make him face you.

“Trent I get that, I really do but you don’t have to shut me out. I’m here to help you, I love you and want you to be happy but all you’re doing is hurt me.” He leaned in your touch and kissed the palm of your hand slowly making eye contact with you.

“I know, I know” he said.

“I promise I’ll do better. I never want to see you like this ever again, especially because of me. I love you” he said pleading and your heart melted.

One thing about Trent, he never lied. Even in the most uncomfortable moments where lying could get him out, he didn’t and you knew he was really sorry.

“I don’t want to say it’s okay because it’s not. You can’t treat me like that ever again because I’m your girlfriend Trent. But I know you feel bad and you understand where I come from.”

“I do I really do.” he cut you off and pressed another kiss on your hand.

“I promise this will never happen again, of course we’re attached at the hip. I’m never leaving you, you’re it for me and I can’t lose you Y/N I love you.”

You didn’t say anything just snuggled closer to him and he accepted you with open arms. Even though he was a little thick headed sometimes, you knew he loved you and would do anything for you and that’s why you’re still with him. You loved him with all your heart and there’s nothing that can change that.

[insidekatmind]

A Return~Virgil Van Dijk

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

The sun was setting behind the hills, turning the sky orange as you and your daughter sat on the couch. The little girl, with her brown curls loose, giggled as you stroked her hair, but inside you felt a knot in your stomach. Virgil was thirty minutes late. It wasn’t new, but it infuriated you every time.

“When’s daddy coming?” your daughter asked, looking up at you with those big, innocent eyes.

“Soon, honey,” you lied softly.

As you tried to hide your frustration, a sharp knock on the door made you jump. It wasn’t the gentle sound of someone knocking politely. It was a firm knock, almost impatient. You stood up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, and went to answer the door.

Virgil Van Dijk was there, with that imposing presence and charm that had once made you lose your mind. His dark eyes were studying you, but they were cold, distant. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his familiar scent, a mix of wood and spice, hit you like a punch in the gut.

"Hey," he said, barely a whisper. No apology. No explanation.

Behind him, a red Mustang convertible gleamed in the sunset light.

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're late, Virgil."

He raised an eyebrow, as if it didn't concern him in the slightest.

"It's not a problem, is it?" he said in that calm, almost mocking voice.

"It is when our daughter waits for you for half an hour."

Virgil's eyes moved past you, to the little girl who was watching from the doorway with a confused expression.

"Hi, baby," he said, smiling slightly.

The little girl ran up to him eagerly. "Daddy!"

The sight broke your heart. How could he be so cold to you, but so sweet to her?

He picked her up in his arms and kissed her cheek, then turned to you.

"Can I carry her now?"

"love go to the kitchen for a second I have to talk to your father" you say to the little girl and she nods

"Okay mommy", he said happily, leaving you alone. He lets out another smirk as he looks down on you.

"What?" he said, his arms still crossed over his chest.

you walk closer to him "don't give me that look you know what I want to say"

he responds with a chuckle, his smirk not fading from his face.

"yeah I know." he said, his voice lowering slightly as you walked closer to him. "what do you want?"

"stop acting like that and take responsibility" you say angrily

he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

"here we go again", he said, leaning against the door frame. "it's always the same with you. And what exactly am I supposed to take responsibility for?"

you look at him in shock and move closer to him "are you seriously asking me that?" you ask angrily

his smirk fades with your answer. His irritation is now written all over his face. He lets out a huff as he looks at you.

"Of course I'm asking. I've done a lot more than you ever have." he snapped, towering over you.

you look at him in shock "oh really? and what would you have done?"

he looks at you with narrowed eyes, leaning in closer. His chest is inches away from touching you.

"I was the only one who took care of our daughter. Since we got divorced, all you did was-" he pauses, taking a breath and calming down. "I was the only one who supported her financially while you were away partying somewhere."

you look at him in shock "Don't make me look like something I'm not" you whisper angrily as you lean closer to him and you were so close

he stiffens as you get closer to him, your bodies almost touching. His gaze darkens as you get closer.

"Oh really? So tell me, what did you do then?" he said softly, lowering his head to bring his face closer to yours.

you glare at him "I take care of her, I feed her, I comfort her which you don't do" you raise your toes to get closer to his face to throw these things back at him

His jaw tightens, he clearly doesn't like what you're saying about him. He leaned in too, his breathing getting heavier as his eyes flashed.

"Bullshit. I take care of her," he snapped, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly he put his hands on your waist, squeezing them tightly. "But at least I was the one who was actually there for her. You were too busy with parties and men to even worry about her."

"oh now I'm the one who attends the parties?" you look at him and Virgil looks at your lips

He looks down at your hands resting on his chest, as he moves even closer to you. He swallows, trying to hold it in.

“It felt like you were in on it. Especially with that bartender last week,” he says, conjuring up an old memory and holding you tighter.

“We broke up before,” you whisper, and he leans in to your lips.

“Not officially,” he says, still not letting go of the memory so easily.

He leans his face closer to yours, stopping with his lips inches from yours.

“You were mine.” He says, his voice barely a whisper. “At least you were then.”

You look at him, trying not to give in, but Virgil kisses you and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. The kiss was fiery, passionate, and held all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.

He lifts you up and places you on the couch, balanced on top of you. He leans down, hands on either side of your head as he looks down on you.

He takes a moment, admiring the view from above. He smirks, shaking his head slightly.

"God, you look so good like this," he said softly, his eyes wandering over your body.

Virgil begins to kiss your neck as you lift your dress and remove your panties. "Always so sexy," Virgil murmurs near your neck. He kisses it softly, before biting and sucking on it. He moans, and the feeling of your soft skin under his lips sends shivers down his spine.

"You're killing me, you know. This damn dress." he says, his hand stroking your bare thigh.

You moan and watch as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and enters you. You both moan as he adjusts his thick cock inside you.

"Always so fucking tight," he moans softly and pushes hard, not caring about going slow.

He moans when he feels you around him, closing his eyes and gripping your hips tightly with his hands. He lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. He takes a moment, trying to calm himself.

"God, you feel so good. I've missed you so much." he murmurs and starts to push himself hard inside you again making you moan loudly.

"Virgil" you moan as you scratch his back and he moans loudly pushing himself animalistically inside you.

"Look at how you take your ex's cock, you like it yes, she was always good for me" he murmurs nibbling on your neck and you moan.

He lifts his head and looks down at you. He watches you intently, his eyes filled with desire and need.

“Holy shit, I won’t last long here,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down between the two of you. “You’re too damn good.”

You moan and arch up before cupping his face and kissing it. It was a sloppy kiss with tongues clashing. You moaned into the kiss as Virgil pushed himself deeper into you.

His hands grip your hips, moving you in time with his thrusts. He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, his face scrunched up in the overwhelming pleasure.

You moan and cling to him. “Me too, baby,” you whisper, moaning.

He moans at your words, his hips now moving sporadically, the pleasure becoming too much.

"F-Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna-" he cuts himself off, throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan as he pushes his hips harder, pounding into you and you moan, cumming all over his cock.

He groans at the way you're squeezing his cock and cums inside you. Virgil rides his release, his body tensing against you. He rests his head against your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"You're going to be the death of me," he says, lifting his head to look at you. He lifts a hand to caress your face and his eyes scan your twitching body.

"I love you so much, do you know that?" he whispers. You sigh and caress his face, "yes."

He leans into your touch, smiling as you caress his face. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off you and laying next to you. He places an arm over your waist and pulls you closer to him.

“let's give it another chance” you whisper and Virgil smiled.

He looks down at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. "You mean that?" he said, still not entirely believing it.

He brings one of his hands up to move a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle against your skin.

You nod.He grins in response, the smile growing wider."I'm gonna do this right this time. I promise." he says, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

Hearing his words you smile and hug him.  He holds you against his chest, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms.

He rests his chin atop your head, a content sigh leaving his lips. "I missed this. I missed having you in my arms." he said, pulling you closer.

“me too,” you whisper softly.

He smiles, running a hand through your hair. "I'm really sorry for how I acted before. I was an idiot. I should've tried to fix things instead of just blowing them away." he said, leaning a bit down to look at you.

“it’s ok” you whisper caressing his back. "now you're here."He smiles, his eyes closing as he feels your fingers run along his back.

"Yeah, I'm here." he said, holding you tighter against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I swear."

A comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket, his steady heartbeat syncing with yours as you lay together. His arms, strong and protective, held you as if afraid you'd slip away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe him.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his back, lingering on old scars and familiar curves. Each touch was a quiet reassurance — a promise spoken without words.

"You don’t have to swear," you murmured, your voice soft but sure. "I believe you."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. But all he found was trust — fragile, yes, but real. His lips curved into a tender smile, one that melted the walls you had built.

"I missed you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."

You nodded, your forehead resting against his. "I missed you too. But you’re here now. That’s all that matters."

He kissed you then — slow, deliberate, and full of everything words couldn’t express. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an unspoken vow. A promise of forever.

As he settled back into the embrace, holding you close like you were his entire world, you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe. The storm was over.

He was home.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It won’t take you long."

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

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

“Fine,” he grumbled.

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

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

He could just throw it out.

The thought crossed his mind almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

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

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

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

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

It was annoying, unsettling.

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

Silence.

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

Still nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either you’d fallen asleep, or...

“Is she dead?” Harvey asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exhaled, thinking, I slept through it anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hummed, his eyes scanning the text.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the gesture behind it was unexpectedly sweet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then it hit you. Y/N.

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

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

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

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

Until now.

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed.

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

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

Wataru nodded, clearly pleased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess he is.”

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You too." Trent added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Getting colder,” you commented.

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

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

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

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

“Someone stalking my Insta?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm," you trailed off, smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Charming,” you retorted.

Trent shook his head, getting into his car.

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

...

Part 7

Masterlist

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

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

[formulalfc]

Omgggg I’ve been thinking about reader who is in a relationship with Trent but OFTEN has three somes with Szoboszlai and him like so hot actually….and it’s like a reward she gets from both 😭

wish this was me fr fr

at first it was super weird trying to navigate the attraction you felt for domi while you were in a relationship with trent but your boyfriend wasn't dumb and could very clearly see the looks you tried to play off. he also happened to know that domi was very into you as well, having spoke to him about it in detail. you guys deffo get together for the first time after like a really big game, and they both score and have a great game. and trent is just like fuck it domi you're coming home with us. you thought sex with trent couldn't get any better but adding domi into the mix has taken your sex life into a whole other dimension. it becomes a thing when one of you does something good, if they score, you get a promotion at work, they sign a new deal etc, you guys fuck as a reward for your achievements which has become often now that this arrangement has started.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[zoyasribbon]

SILKEN WHISPERS — d. szobozlai

.ೃ࿐ summary : Punctuality has forever coursed through your veins, especially during the most significant occasions. Yet, who would have guessed that a simple silk dress could shatter that rule?

.ೃ࿐ words : 0,6k.

.ೃ࿐ genre : suggestive.

.ೃ࿐ warning : swearing, hot makeout sesh.

.ೃ࿐ author’s note : marking my debut in the imagine territory where I’m taking my first steps with this little guy here—i have so many ideas in store ^^ hope you enjoy !

“Fuck, I love this dress” he growled into your ear.

You marveled at how Dominik had a way of approaching you with such effortless charm, savoring every moment of it. His warm breath brushed against the delicate shell of your ear, sending ripples of sensation through your entire being. You could sense the contours of his lush lips as they curved into a wicked smile, long before you could catch their reflection in the mirror.

His exquisite mouth. The gentle bristle of his stubble. His tussled, soft brown hair. The earthy scent of his cologne.

Him.

You couldn't fathom why his compliment impacted you so deeply. Well, you were aware of your excellent taste in clothing, a truly refined taste. Even the shop assistant praised your choice earlier. Yet, it was gratifying to receive admiration for your dress selection, a specific taste you had honed over the years, despite hearing your mother's reprimands all through your teenage years.

There was nothing overtly revealing about it. You cherished the fabric's softness and the delicate hue, an homage to the early breath of the warm summer day that lay ahead. It draped around your form, lending both grace and a sense of comfort.

Elegance and comfort, precisely what you sought. With Dominik so close behind you now, you felt, on top of all that, utterly sexy.

You mirrored his smile before focusing on applying your red lipstick. Dominik drew even nearer. His large hands encircled your waist, exerting a firm hold. His thumbs traced delightfully slow, feathery circles down your back, igniting a blaze that seemed to sear the silky fabric, sending tendrils of heat down your spine. What was his intention?

You attempted to stifle a gasp, but the faint tremor in your body, as involuntary as it was, betrayed you. Naturally, Dominik, to his great delight, took notice.

His languorous demeanor slowly gave way to a more intimate and intense expression. Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. He was acutely aware of the effect this simple yet intimate act would have on you, especially when he focused on that particular spot where your shoulder met your neck. It was, after all, one of his many areas of expertise.

Unconsciously, you allowed the lipstick you had just lowered to slip from your hand onto the polished wooden chest of drawers. This granted you the excuse to weave your fingers into his hair—a subtle act not only to steady yourself but also to unwittingly encourage his delightful administrations, preventing your legs from giving way.

"We're going to be late," you managed to articulate with a tremulous, breathless voice. He let out a small laugh against your skin. "It's your cousin's wedding, after all," you murmured desperately, knowing that soon you would be rushing headlong into trouble.

In response, he delicately nipped a part of your neck. That slightest gesture was enough to make you surrender. Your head tilted backward, finding support against his sturdy chest before leaning slightly to the side. Your hand grabbed a few strands of his hair, pulling gently, eliciting a moan from him.

Now literally pressed against Dominik, you could feel every beat of his heart pulsating against his still partly unbuttoned white shirt. The mirror had indeed offered you a delightful view of his well-defined torso.

You ceased pretending that this damn wedding held any significance the moment his hands slid forward across your breasts and descended towards the lower curve of your belly and even lower. Suddenly, he emitted another groan, this one more desperate and guttural than the first. Your breath caught.

"You know what?" he whispered, "Far too perfect. Let your hair down, darling, I need to ruffle you up a bit before we go."

[damiansgoodgirll]

Would you write a fic for someone of your choosing (I love ur writing I'd read for anyone istg) where the reader is feeling stressed or upset because of exams and he just comforts her? Maybe after a bad test or smth college is being a bitch rn and I NEED comfort :')

hope you don’t mind this one is with big virgil van dijk!

vvd x reader

stressed out

college was killing you.

you loved studying, but the exams and the few hours you had left for sleeping were going to be the end of you.

you were getting ready for a very important test when you just got the notification that you would have a second test the same day, just in the afternoon.

you felt drained and tired and you were sure you were going to fail both of exams because you couldn’t concentrate anymore.

tears started welling up in your eyes and you did your best to keep it silent because you knew your boyfriend was downstairs taking a nap on your couch and you didn’t want to wake him up, knowing how stressed he was from the league and all of the football matches.

but you couldn’t help to get anxious and a few sobs escaped your lips.

virgil was awake and was making you a tea when he heard you. he knew how stressed you had been in this period and it was pained him seeing how tired you were and how he couldn’t do nothing to help you.

he decided it was the best time for visiting you with his delicious tea.

you heard a knock on the door and immediately knew who it was.

“can i come in baby?” he asked you.

“ehm…just one second please” you said, wiping your tears away “come in…”

when he saw your face his heart broke. your look was tired and your eyes were all red and puffy.

“hey baby…” he sat down on the bed next to you and gently laid the cup of tea on your nightstand “i made you some tea” he smiled.

“thank you” you tried to smile but you were too tired.

“why don’t you take a break love? i can see how tired you are…” he suggested taking your hands in his bigger ones.

“what? no-no i can’t…” you started rambling “i just found out that i have two exams tomorrow, not one, two! i can’t take a break virgil…i need to be ready for tomorrow and…” he cut you off when you felt his hand caressing your cheek.

“easy love, take it easy…you’re over working yourself and that’s not healthy at all…i know who this is important to you but you’re not taking care of you and i’m worried…” he looked straight into your eyes and that was enough to make you cry once again.

he helped you between his legs, letting you cry all of your tears while his hands stroke your back.

“it’s okay love, let it all out, you’re okay…” he whispered.

“i’m not okay…i’m so fucking stressed about these exams that i know i’m going to fail both…i just, god, what was i thinking when i decided to go to college? i just - i’m so tired virgil i can’t even keep my eyes open and in less than 14 hours i have a very important test to do…” you kept crying, more like a desperate cry.

“hey hey hey it’s okay…i know you’re stressed baby, i know…but i also know you’re smart and a badass and that you won’t fail the exams…you just need to rest a bit and when you’ll be rested you’ll feel like studying again” he said “you can’t overwork yourself like this and not taking care of yourself…”

“i know…” you wiped your tears away and looked at him in the eyes.

“now… why don’t you drink this delicious tea i made for you and sleep a bit? i’ll cook dinner for us and when you’ll be hydrated you’ll keep studying okay?” he reasoned and you couldn’t help but agree with him.

“can you stay here with me? for a bit?” you asked him.

“of course baby…” he laid on the bed next to you. you drank all of the tea he made and that helped you calming you down. he then went to stroke your hair, helping you relax and fall asleep.

you drifted to sleep only a few minutes later.

virgil stood next to you all the time, making sure you kept sleeping and that you felt relaxed, all he wanted was to help you but little did he know he’s been helping you the moment you met.

[pedriache]

hey diva… just give me anything with torres and lowkey… make it ansgty

Better than this — Fernando Torres.

Pairing: Fernando Torres x Fem!Reader

Summary: All he wanted was you, but you were certain he could find someone to treat him better than you ever could.

Word count: 740+

Disclaimer/s: angst , arguing , hopeful ending

A/N: I hope this made you happy beautiful, @ar4ujos ^_^ I luh you.

Knocking and knocking and knocking. “Baby open the door.” Fernando pleads, his head resting against the wooden frame. You’d locked yourself in your bedroom after he’d.. oh God. Even thinking about it made you nauseous.

He had, in simple terms, confessed his very real feelings for you. At first, when he’d started hanging out with you more, taking you out on ‘dates’—not that you’d let him call them that, it was fine. It wasn’t serious or anything, just the both of you having fun.

“Fer, go away.” You groan, head tipping back against the bed frame. You sat on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom, trying to collect your thoughts. He deserved better than you! Why wouldn’t he just go away?

“I’m not..” His voice grows quiet. “Listen, I know it scares you, I know you don’t like relationships, but please. I want—I need you.”

You wanted to believe that, you did. But your brain was practically screaming ‘danger! Danger! Danger!’ He didn’t deserve to be locked in a relationship with a girlfriend who would constantly overthink. You had too much baggage and the blonde did not deserve that.

“Baby, open the fucking door.” He says through gritted teeth. “Please, if you’re going to break it off, I need to you say it to my face.”

Reluctantly, and against everything your brain was telling you to do, you stand up and shuffle toward the door. You unlock it, opening it just enough to poke your head through. Then you see his face, that beautiful.. no.

Blinking slowly, you chew on your cheek. “Okay. I—“ You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t tell him to go.

“You…?”

“I, uhm.. Can you not look me in the eye when I say this?” You huff, eyes diverting to his shaggy blonde hair. Lord, his hair. Memories of your fingers threading through the blonde locks flooded your mind. You did not want to break anything off, but you had to.

“No.” He stays firm, shaking his head. “And, open the door all the way. If you really didn’t want this, you’d be able to say it to my face.”

“I am?” You scowl at his hair. “You make my life so difficult.”

Fernando nods. “I’m sure I do.”

“And you are insufferable, and very, very! Annoying. You also—“ Your brain short circuits. Why was he looking at your lips? “Stop that. Now. I’m trying to get you out of my life.”

“Are you really? You’re not trying very hard.”

Oh.

Your face flattens. “You’re proving all the points i’ve been making.” You point out, which unfortunately had a smug look forming on Fernando’s freckled face. “I want you to—“

You couldn’t speak. You almost said something wrong, something the complete opposite of what you’d been trying to say.

His eyebrows raise, beckoning for you to continue. When you don’t, his previous grin falters. He says your name quietly, concern etched into every syllable.

“Sorry, I, uhm,” you shake your head. Get a grip! You could give in, or slam the door in his face again, but you don’t. Instead, you scratch the side of your head. “Okay, clearly I don’t know what I’m trying to say. But, Fer, you don’t deserve this—me. You should be with someone who can provide for you exactly what you need.”

“But you are what I need.” He furrows his eyebrows, his head rolling to the side. “Why can’t you just give this—us.. a chance?”

You had never been so irritated and appalled by someone in your life. And you were thankful. Because his words only made you want to believe him, despite the part of you that couldn’t. The fact of the matter was, he was giving you hope, and hope is dangerous. But what is life if not decades of risks?

“One date. One real date. Then, I will think on it.” You finally give in, rolling your eyes at the way his face lit up.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t make me regret this.” You point at his chest, your pointer finger digging into it. Fernando smiles, his hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling it away, but still keeping a hold on it.

Fernando beams at you, “I promise you won’t.” A short pause, “does this mean I have to leave?”

You think for a moment before taking a step back into your bedroom, dragging him with you. “I suppose not.”

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @joaosfelix @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !