Advice - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Jordan Henderson Request: Trent asking Hendo for advice bc he’s thinking about proposing his gf. Like asking how do you know she’s the one and stuff. Strong big bro, little brother vibes. Requested by: anonymous Warnings: none

Trent had been thinking about proposing to you for a while now. He was convinced he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but with that, so came the doubts. Did you want to spend the rest of your life with him? You had once mentioned that it was a dream of yours to be married one day, but you and Trent had never spoken into any further detail about it.

Trent thought long and hard on it, but finally decided to confide in the one person he trusted most on matters like these: Jordan.

"Hendo?" Trent gathered up the courage after today's training. "C--can I have a word? In private?" Jordan nodded, before taking Trent apart from the rest of the team still out on the training pitch. "Are you okay?" "Yes," Trent answered, "but... I need some advice." The worried frown on Jordan's brow loosened. "Anytime."

Trent hesitated, silently searching for the words that would do justice to what he felt. Jordan didn't pressure him in any way, and patiently waited for Trent to talk.

"I..." Trent nervously fidgeted his hands together. "I want to propose to my girlfriend, but I am at a complete loss on how to handle this." A soft smile played on Jordan's lips. "That's perfectly normal." He rested a hand on Trent's shoulder. "It's not just any decision you're making, so I would actually be rather surprised if you had everything figured out immediately."

Trent took a shaky breath. It was a relief to hear that what he was feeling was perfectly normal. "So what do I do?" He looked helplessly up at Jordan. "How can I be sure she feels the same way about me?" "Has she given you any reasons to doubt?" Jordan asked. Trent determinedly shook his head. "No, never. I'm very sure I want to do this. I mean, I've had the ring for weeks already." "Than don't worry," Jordan reassured, "trust your gut. And if you ask me: there's no chance in hell she'll say no." "You really think that?" Trent mumbled. "Yes," Jordan winked, "because I know true love when I see it."

Trent felt a weight lift off his shoulders. With Jordan's reassurances, he suddenly felt like he could fight the whole world.

"I'm going to do it." A broad, intensely happy smile broke over Trent's face. "I'm actually going to ask her to marry me! We're going out for dinner tonight, and I'm-- I'm going to pop the question."

Jordan chuckled at the happiness radiating off of Trent. "Good luck, mate. And I'll see you tomorrow as an engaged man."

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Knocked out - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: knocked out during a match Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of being knocked unconscious

Trent never even felt himself fall to the ground. The last thing he remembered was getting ready for their opposing team’s corner kick, but the moment his opponent’s elbow connected with the back of his head, it was lights out for Trent. 

He awoke, flat on his back on the grass and with several concerned-looking people surrounding him. He didn't have any clue how long he had been out for or what had even happened to him at all.

Trent wasn’t completely lucid yet after having been unconscious, and the pain to his head was significant. His attention was slowly drawn to the person sitting beside his head and apparently speaking to him. It took him a few more seconds to recognize Andy, and make any sense of the words spoken to him.

"Are you back with us?" Andy looked shaken up. "Wh– what happened?" Trent mumbled painfully. He tried to move upright, starting to become frantic, but was gently held down by his teammate. "You were knocked out for a bit," Andy answered, "you took a knock to the head. The doctors are here to take care of you, but you mustn’t move too much yet."

Trent heard the words, but they didn’t really get through to him. "I need to… the match…" Once again, Trent frantically moved as if he wanted to sit up, and this time, too, Andy held him down gently. "Trentski, calm down, mate," Andy soothed. He kept his hand flat on Trent’s chest, feeling the heaving of the young Scouser’s breaths beneath his fingers. "No…" Trent whimpered softly. "You’ll be alright." Andy tried to keep his voice calm and level, but he had to admit that Trent’s behavior worried him. "You’ll be fine, but you need to take it easy now, okay?"

Trent’s gaze locked with Andy’s, and finally the words seemed to get through to him. He relaxed somewhat and lay still, surrendering himself to the Liverpool medical team sitting on his other side. "There you go." Andy smiled reassuringly and gently patted Trent on the shoulder. "Easy does it."

Trent slowly closed his eyes against the fogginess that still clouded his mind. He focused on Andy’s hand still resting on his shoulder, and found that it had a calming effect on him. The amount of control he had over himself was only small, and he had to do his best not to spiral into a panic again.

It was as if Andy had read his mind. "Are we still doing good?" The Scot asked softly. "Yeah." Trent nodded without opening his eyes. "But… can you stay here a little longer?" He had the distinct feeling his control would slip from his fingers once he was left with just the medical team. "Absolutely, mate," Andy assured, "for as long as I can, and I’ll come look for you immediately after the match." Trent felt even more tension flow from his body at that promise. "Thank you," he mumbled softly, but Andy heard it. "I think I need that."

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Vice-captain - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Request: can you pls write about TAA getting the vice captaincy from Jürgen? i think that would be wonderful in you writing🥰🥰 Requested by: anonymous Warnings: none

"Trent!"

"Oh, now I've done it," Trent grumbled in response to Klopp calling him over from the other side of the pitch. It was the third day of Liverpool's training camp in Singapore, and so far today's training session wasn't exactly going Trent's way. He was being sloppy and anything but faultless, and he was sure he would get a telling off from Klopp for it now.

Trent sighed heavily and suddenly his shoes felt lead-filled as he strode towards Klopp. Andy clasped him on the back as he passed. "Head up, mate. You'll be alright." "Yeah," Trent mumbled, but he wasn't convinced about it.

Trent couldn't help but notice how Klopp had chosen a position on the other side of their training pitch, away from the rest of the team. This surely didn't promise much good.

"Boss, I know, and I'm sorry." Trent started his apologies as soon as he was within earshot of Klopp. He was well aware he hadn't been on par during the last training sessions and he was sure he was going to be told that now.

To Trent's surprise, Klopp gave him a big smile and slung a fatherly arm around him. "I'm naming you vice-captain." Trent stopped dead in his tracks, giving Klopp a look of utter bewilderment. "You're what?!" He heard what Klopp said, but he couldn't quite believe his ears. This was so opposite of what he had expected to hear, that Trent needed a moment to comprehend what he'd been told.

Klopp chuckled at all the different kinds of emotion crossing over Trent's face in only a matter of seconds, until he finally saw the spark of a tear glistening in Trent's eye, and he knew his words had landed.

"But only if you want to be vice-captain of course," Klopp added with a wink. "Are you serious?" Trent found his voice again. "It's been my childhood dream to one day be captain for this club. It's just... I wasn't expecting it to happen just yet."

Klopp tightened his arm around Trent's shoulders. "I think you're ready." "Really?" There was a nervous undertone to Trent's voice, yet a smile now broadened on his face. "Yes." Klopp sounded 100% convinced. "I've watched you grow over the years, on every level imaginable, into the wonderful man you are today. I know the team respects you, young players see you as an example for themselves, you set the bar high for everyone. What more could I ask for?"

Trent was speechless for half a minute as he processed what he'd just been told. "Thank you," he finally spoke again, "for having this kind of faith in me."

Trent felt the pride swell in his chest, now fully realizing what this meant. A smile was plastered on his face, and would probably not go away for days to come. Klopp tightened his arm around Trent's shoulders once more. "Never doubted you for a second."

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Sick - Trent Alexander-Arnold & Dominik Szoboszlai

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Dominik Szoboszlai Request: puhleaeaease write a sickfic with Dom and TAA?! 😍🤩 I love these two & their weird bromance thingy 😁 ur the best! Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of being sick

The sixth day of Liverpool's two week training camp in Austria was about to start. The team gathered in their hotel's restaurant for breakfast, but there was one very significant absentee.

"Wheres Trent?" Dominik was the first to notice the Scouser's unusual absence. Since he had been named vice-captain, Trent always was among the first to arrive for any team activity. But now he was nowhere to be seen, while even the most notorious latecomers were already present.

Andy, sitting at the same table as Dominik, looked around. "Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him yet." "That’s not like him at all." Dominik shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. An uneasy feeling was creeping up on him somehow. He had absolutely no reason to, but there was a gut-feeling not to trust this situation.

As if their conversation had been overheard, Virgil suddenly appeared behind Andy, holding up his phone and looking equally worried. "Have any of you seen Trent today?" The Dutchman asked, sounding serious. "No one’s seen him yet, and he’s not answering his phone either." "That’s it." Dominik threw his napkin onto the table and resolutely got to his feet. "I’m checking his room. I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

With Virgil and Andy close behind him, Dominik hurried up to the floor of Trent’s room. "Trent!" Dominik pounded his fist on the door. "Trent, if you’re there, open up!" Dominik shared a concerned look with Andy and Virgil as he listened for sounds from inside the room. He was just about to slam his fist into the door some more, when he heard the weakest voice from inside.

"On my way… no need to kick the door down…"

The hotel room door finally opened up to a completely dark room. Trent stood in the door opening, clearly still in his nightwear, and looking absolutely miserable. "Are you okay?" Dominik immediately asked, although Trent swaying visibly on his feet should already answer his question. "Sick…" Trent’s voice sounded uncharacteristically lifeless and raspy.

Dominik was glad they had located Trent, but the state in which they found him was definitely cause for concern. "Can I come in?" Dominik asked. "Sure." Trent shrugged minutely, already turning around to go back to bed.

Before he stepped in, Dominik shared another look with Andy and Virgil. Given Trent’s current condition he didn’t think it wise for all three of them to go in. His two teammates understood wordlessly. "We’ll go inform the gaffer," Andy said, before he and Virgil left.

Dominik silently closed the door behind him. "Can I turn on a light?" "Yes." Came a muffled reply. Dominik switched on a small light. He found Trent lying on his front on the bed, looking very much out of it. "What’s wrong?" He sat himself down on the edge of the bed, looking down at his vice-captain’s sweat-covered shoulders. "Just… sick," Trent mumbled, "my head’s killing me, and I’m pretty sure I’m running a fever." Dominik shortly held the back of his hand to Trent’s neck, feeling the heat radiating off the skin. "You are most definitely running a fever."

Dominik strode over to the bathroom to run a wash cloth under the cold tap, which he then gently placed across Trent’s neck. Trent groaned a soft word of thanks in reply.

"I’m going to get you some aspirin," Dominik announced, "and maybe it’s best if I stay here today, too." The fact that Trent did not protest to that in any way, was all the confirmation Dominik needed to indeed watch over his friend all day.

---

For most of the day, Dominik sat in the sitting area of the room, reading a book or watching something on his phone, while Trent slept. Occasionally Dominik would check up on his friend, but could only conclude that Trent was sound asleep.

Halfway through the afternoon came the first signs of life from Trent again. He groaned softly a few times, before slowly rolling himself onto his back. He still felt rather feverish, but at least his headache was a lot less. A slight movement to the left side of the room made him look, and he found Dominik sitting there.

"You really did stay." Trent’s voice sounded somewhat raspy from not being used for a while. Dominik startled slightly, but he quickly recollected himself. "Of course I did." Trent propped himself up on his elbows. "You didn’t have to do that." "You didn’t see yourself this morning." Dominik chuckled wryly. "No way we were going to leave you alone, mate." Trent frowned. "We?" "Yeah, the whole team’s been worried about you." Dominik answered, "but, more importantly, are you feeling any better?" "A little," Trent mumbled, "I’m not rid of it yet, though."

Dominik slowly rose to his feet, walking the few paces that separated him and Trent. "May I?" He asked. Trent nodded, even though he didn’t know what his teammate was asking permission for. Without any further advance notice, Dominik held the back of his hand against Trent’s neck, just like he had done that morning. "You feel less warm," Dominik concluded, "but still a bit feverish I imagine." "Yeah." Trent lay back again.

Dominik watched as Trent made himself comfortable again, ready to sleep off the rest of the flu or whatever this was. "Are you staying?" Trent mumbled. "Would you want me to?" Dominik asked. There was a short moment of silence before Trent answered. "If you don’t mind."

Dominik chuckled softly and sat back in the armchair he had occupied for most of the day so far. "Don’t worry, I’ll be staying right here."

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The Medic - #1 - Trent Alexander-Arnold

About the series: The Medic will be an anthology-like series about the reader working for the medical team of the club. Each chapter will feature a different setting/scenario and a different player.

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "How long have you been hiding this?" Warnings: none

It was a quiet time for you right now. With Liverpool's injury list blissfully empty, the pressure on your department, the medical department, was a lot less at the moment.

You were reading reports on a few routine check-ups of some players, when the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of someone.

"Hi."

You didn't even need to look up from the report you were reading to know Trent had just appeared in the door opening of your office. The Scouse accent dripped even from that single word.

"Hey, Trent," you greeted him back, "anything I can do for you?" "Uhm..." Trent hesitated slightly. "Would you mind taking a look at something for me?"

Out of professional habit, your eyes immediately scanned over Trent's body in search for obvious injuries, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Sure," you answered, "something the matter?" "It's my ankle." Trent still spoke with a slight hesitance to his voice. "It's playing up a little bit." In his entire posture you could see he was ill at ease about this. "Alright, let's have a look."

Trent sat himself down on the treatment table on the other end of your office space. Without you having to ask for it, he took off his shoe and sock, rolled the leg of his trousers up to just below the knee, and stretched his leg out on the table.

His skin felt warm against your hands as you held his foot to examine him. You ran your fingers along his ankle when you pressed and felt and tested the movement of the joint. Trent silently watched you work.

Upon a careful stretch to the right, a shock went through Trent's entire leg and he winced audibly. You frowned at the obvious injury to his ankle. Something about this was not as it should be, and a suspicion started to form in your mind.

"How long have you been hiding this?" You asked out of the blue. "I..." Trent stammered at first. He looked to be searching for a way out of this, but immediately realized you already knew. "About two weeks ago. I twisted it during training."

The frown on your face deepened. You were sure you hadn't seen Trent for it back then, and you couldn't remember seeing any reports from your colleagues regarding such an injury. "I didn't see anyone for it," Trent confessed, accurately interpreting your silence and the frown on your face. "Why not?" The tone of your voice betrayed your opinion on that decision. Trent averted his gaze, avoiding to look at you, and shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't think it was that bad." "And you played how many matches with this? Two?" You asked a little sternly. "Three," Trent mumbled softly, "and I never skipped a training session."

"Okay." You decided not to pass any further judgement on the choice Trent had made, and instead focused on at least treating the injury now. "I don't think you tore anything, but I do think you gave some muscles and ligaments a stretch." "Did I make it worse?" The realization of what could have happened shone in Trent's eyes. "You might have," you answered honestly, "but hopefully you still came to me in time. And since you can still walk quite normally, I think you'll be alright."

"So... what now?" Trent asked quietly. "I'll tape it in for now," you answered, "so it's stable and you don't twist it again, but I want to see you back tomorrow. We'll do a quick scan to make sure there indeed is no serious damage."

Trent nodded calmly. He knew he hadn't made the best choices in this, and that he would now maybe suffer the consequences of it, but he was glad for the way you handled this without passing too much judgement on him.

Trent's eyes followed your every move with interest as you applied the medical tape to his ankle. His leg twitched slightly when you smoothened out the tape underneath his foot. "Painful?" You asked. "No." He shook his head, chuckling. "That tickles." You laughed softly. "Sorry about that. All done already." Trent examined the skillfully applied red tape now supporting his ankle, before putting his sock and shoe back on.

"How did you know?" He asked, "that this wasn't a fresh injury?" There was genuine wonder in his eyes. "It's still slightly swollen, but there isn't much heat anymore," you explained, "with an injury like that you always see a lot of heat forming along with the swelling. You probably had that, but two weeks ago."

Trent nodded somewhat guiltily. "I promise I'll come to you straight away if it ever happens again." "Yeah, you better," you chuckled. "I will," Trent smiled a guilt-ridden smile. "I learnt my lesson."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @mrswinksy, @themoon-shines TAA tags: @footballffbarbiex, @sanchoj7 Liverpool / PL tags: @ella33, @candlelitutopia, @percervall

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Sleepy Dialogue Prompts posting #3

🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽ Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "You definitely needed the sleep." Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of injury 🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽

Yesterday's match had earned Trent a trip to the A&E after dislocating his shoulder in a fall. Although his shoulder had been set fairly quickly and there seemed to be limited damage, he still remained in a fair amount of pain and was ordered to at least a week of absolute rest.

Andy was on the phone almost directly after Trent was discharged from the hospital. "Are you really okay?" The worry in Andy's voice even made it over the phone line. "Yes," Trent answered, although the weariness in him was quite clear. "It's painful, but I'll be fine. Why don't you come visit tomorrow?" Andy hesitated. "Sure you're up for that?" Trent hummed softly. "It'll be a welcome distraction." "Alright," Andy agreed, "I'll come by tomorrow."

----

You were working upstairs when you heard the doorbell ring, and knew it must be Andy. "I'll get it!" You called to Trent, who was watching TV in the living room downstairs. His injured shoulder bothered him quite a lot, so you preferred him not to move around too much.

"Hey." You greeted Andy as you opened the front door. "Hi," Andy smiled, "how are you? That must have been a real scare for you, too, yesterday." His concern for you meant a lot to you. "I'm good, thanks for asking. It was scary indeed, but he's doing okay, so I've calmed down again."

Andy followed you to the living room. "Oh…" You stopped dead in your tracks, as you found Trent stretched out on the couch, fast asleep.

You made to go over and wake him up, but Andy stopped you. "It’s okay," he said softly, "just let him sleep, he needs it. I don’t mind waiting until he wakes up out of his own." You tried to suppress a snort of laughter. "Knowing him, that can take a while." "Yeah, I know," Andy grinned, "but I've got the time, don't worry." "Alright," you agreed, "I still have some work to do, but you know your way around here, so if you need anything just grab it, okay?"

Andy sat himself down in the armchair opposite the couch, as you went upstairs again. Somehow Trent still slept through all of it, but it only went to show how much this injury actually drained him of energy and strength. And Andy let him.

---

Trent awoke some 20 minutes later. First he stirred, before groaning sleepily and carefully rearranging his body on the couch. He was halfway through a big yawn, when his eye suddenly caught Andy sitting on the other side of the coffee table.

"Bloody hell," Trent mumbled. He gently sat upright, wincing here and there at his injured shoulder. "Why didn't you wake me up?" Andy shrugged. "You definitely needed the sleep." "You’re not wrong about that," Trent smiled wryly, "especially the pain is taking a lot of my energy." "That bad?" Andy winced on Trent's behalf. He could indeed see how Trent was doing his best to relieve his injured shoulder of any and all movement.

"It’s manageable with the painkillers," Trent answered, "but once those start to wear off, it gets quite uncomfortable." "Sounds horrible," Andy said compassionately, "if you need me to leave, I'll leave." "No." A small smile flashed across Trent's face. "I'm glad you're here as a distraction. There's a match on in about half an hour and I was hoping we could watch it together." "Absolutely," Andy nodded, "and if you fall asleep again, I'll let you." Trent chuckled. "Deal."

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Red card - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: Red card Requested by: @s66x Warnings: some swearing

Trent had never really thought about the consequences of his actions when he quite harshly shoved his opponent back. All during the match he had dealt with fouls and veiled threats aimed at him, and he finally had had enough.

He lashed out at his opponent in a short lapse of concentration and control, and immediately knew he would pay dearly for it. Trent already had received a yellow card earlier in the match, and this surely earned him a second one.

"You don't even see what I had to endure all match long!" Trent raged at the referee as the red card indeed was held up for him. "I'm getting sent off, but at least two of them should be as well!" The referee only gave him a stern look and motioned for Trent to retreat back to the dressing room. "Sure," Trent scoffed angrily, "defend them! Because they're so fucking innocent."

"Leave." The words were spoken calmly to him, as Trent felt someone take him by the elbow and steer him away from the referee. "Don't make this any worse." Trent whipped around, finding himself face to face with Jordan.

"This is unacceptable!" Trent now raged at his captain. The look in Jordan's eyes betrayed that he didn't agree to this red card one bit either, but also that there was no other choice but to accept it. "I know it is," Jordan finally answered, forcing his own calmness, "but he's made the decision to send you off, and there's nothing we can change about that now. Please, go inside." Trent glared at his captain, before yanking his elbow out of Jordan's soft grasp. "Fine," he spat the word.

Trent stormed off the pitch and into the tunnel, kicking a trash can in the process and swearing loudly at everything that moved.

"Hey!" Klopp came after Trent into the players' tunnel. "This is outrageous!" Trent's anger reignited, as he placed another kick to a nearby water bottle. "Fouls, threats, nagging all match long… I've had enough of it! I get sent off and he gets to stay on?! That's not right!" "Stop this," Klopp growled, advancing on Trent. "Stop this, or you'll be in a lot more trouble."

"What?" Trent was caught off guard by the sudden menace in his boss’ voice. "Now it’s 'only' a red card," Klopp continued, "but if you keep going on ranting and kicking things about like this, they might suspend you for multiple matches for misconduct. So, I’m saying this one more time: Stop. This."

Trent sighed heftily, but he knew Klopp was right. The team would be in far more trouble if he got himself suspended for a few matches. "Sorry," Trent apologized, doing his best to get himself to calm down, "I lost control for a bit. It won’t happen again."

Klopp smiled and rested a hand on Trent's shoulder. "I know you don't mean wrong, and I even quite admire your passion for this team." Trent looked up at Klopp, a smile now tugging at the corners of his mouth as well. He knew Klopp meant this, and he appreciated that a lot, even in this moment.

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Fine - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "Don't worry, I'm fine." Requested by: @s66x Warnings: mentions of injury

It had been a nasty collision with someone from the other team during Liverpool's latest match four days ago, which had left Trent with a fractured rib. Luckily there wasn't any additional damage, so he was prescribed rest and painkillers, and Klopp had excused him from training and all team activities for at least two weeks. After that they would see what was possible. Trent managed to stay at home for exactly two days. On the third day he already had the sensation of going mad with boredom and unused energy. Moving still hurt a lot, but he just had to get out of the house today or he would go completely insane. It took a lot of persuading, but finally Trent talked you into dropping him off at the AXA Training Centre. Just watching the training, or even sitting through a team meeting, would provide the much needed distraction.

xxx Trent slowly walked onto the training pitch. His fractured rib prevented him from walking with any kind of speed, so he took it very easy. Halfway down the pitch Klopp was having a casual conversation with Andy before training started properly, and that was who Trent was slowly making way for. Andy was the first one to spot Trent. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" "Don't worry, I'm fine." Trent tried to sound breezy, even though his injured rib was actually causing him a lot of discomfort. "I wouldn't classify you as fine, mate." Andy saw right through him. "You're obviously still in a lot of pain." Klopp now turned to Trent, too. "You don’t have to come in, you know that. You should indeed be in bed with that fractured rib." The coach sounded concerned. "I'm really not liking the idea of you walking around here." "Please, don’t send me away." Trent almost begged his boss. "I’m going mad at home. I'm nearly climbing up the walls with boredom and frustration of not being here. Please, just let me watch the training, boss." Klopp frowned at his young defender, clearly deciding whether or not he was going to allow this. He could see the desperation in Trent's eyes, now silently pleading not to be sent away. "Alright," Klopp finally agreed, "but you’re going to sit over there, and you’re not to move." "Absolutely," Trent immediately agreed, not planning on breaking any of these conditions. "Once training is over, you and I will talk about what we can come up with for the next few weeks for you to do." Klopp rested a gentle hand on Trent's shoulder. He actually felt sorry for the young lad. Knowing how eager Trent always was to work, it must indeed be torture for him to be able to do next to nothing. "How did you get here anyway?" Andy asked, "I thought you weren’t allowed to drive with that broken rib." "My girlfriend dropped me off," Trent chuckled guiltily, "I kind of nagged her until she gave in." "Huh." An amused laugh played on Klopp's lips. "I might need a word with her, too." "Come on, boss, it's not her fault," Trent quickly clarified. "I know," Klopp nodded, grinning, "I'm getting her an award for sticking up with you." "Ah, yeah." Trent laughed. "I guess she deserves that."

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Exhausted part 2 - Andy Robertson & Trent Alexander-Arnold

Part 1

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Andy Robertson Request: would love a second part to the recent trent and robbo one think its really good!!😁😁 Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of exhaustion, passing out/fainting, some descriptions of PTSD-like symptoms.

A/N: this is a direct continuation of this imagine. As you can probably already determine from the warnings above, this is quite an angsty piece 😬

Andy knows Liverpool's medical team took Trent to the hospital to be checked over, just to be sure. Something he can only wholeheartedly agree to. The news that Trent was given a clean bill of health from the doctors, reaches the team rather quickly, though. Everyone is relieved to hear that Trent passing out on the pitch is now officially diagnosed as 'exhaustion', and that there's not something more concerning wrong with the young Scouser. Lots of rest and sleep, and he should be just fine.

---

When Andy's phone rings about four hours after the match, he feels a wave of relief to see Trent's caller ID. "Hey, Trentski," Andy answers the call. "Hey." Trent's voice sounds uncharacteristically lifeless. "Are you okay?" Andy immediately asks. "Yeah," Trent answers slowly, "very, very tired, but I'm okay. They sent me home. At the hospital I got an IV with some electrolytes and fluids, that's made me feel a bit better, but mainly I feel like I can sleep until next month." "They sent you home?" Andy frowns at his phone. "Alone?" A soft hum is the only confirmation Trent gives.

After what has happened just hours before, Andy doesn't like the idea of Trent being alone at all. "I'm coming over." He makes the decision in a split-second. The fact that Trent does not protest to it in any way, is all the proof Andy needs to know this is the right thing to do.

----

An hour later Andy finds himself ringing the doorbell of Trent's house. He's picked up some takeaway food on his way over, and if Trent's not hungry, Andy sure is.

Trent opens the door wearing sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt, and looks more tired than Andy's ever seen him. It's not only physical exhaustion, but the fact that he passed out because of it must have a mental impact on him, too. "Thanks for coming over." Trent means it. "Anytime." Andy tones it down. "I brought food." Trent smiles a tired, but genuine smile. "Perfect, I'm starving."

Trent quickly fixes some plates and cutlery, before he and Andy each sag down on either end of the large L-shaped couch with food-laden plates in their laps.

They laugh and joke together as they watch some no-brainer dating show whilst eating. Andy is glad to see Trent somewhat functioning again, but the exhaustion is still clearly visible. The fact that Trent never spoke up about the level of fatigue he was dealing with bothers Andy, but he's not sure this is the opportune moment to bring it up.

But where Andy hesitates, Trent does not. "I'm sorry I startled you today," he starts, scraping the last bit of food off of his plate. "Startled?" Andy chuckles wryly, "you gave me the worst fright of my life! I really thought I was going to lose you right in front of my eyes, mate."

An involuntary shiver runs through Trent at that comment. For the first time he realizes what an impact this must have had on Andy as well. "I never meant for this to happen." "I know you didn't," Andy soothes, "and I'm not mad. I am worried you let it get this far without ever speaking up, but that's a conversation we'll have some other time." Trent nods thoughtfully. He's not feeling up to discussing that topic yet, and he's glad Andy sees it.

"I'm sorry, but I'm off to bed," Trent announces shortly after. He indeed looks dead on his feet, so Andy is not surprised. "Sleep well, mate," Andy answers, "get all the rest you need." "You know your way around the house, and you can take anything from the fridge you want. The guest bedroom is up the stairs to your left." Trent doesn't even ask, he just assumes Andy will be staying for the night as well. And right he is, because it never once crosses Andy's mind to leave Trent alone tonight. Not after what happened today.

----

Andy doesn't sleep a wink that night. The image of Trent going down in front of him constantly replays in his mind. It keeps him up, and whenever he manages to catch some kind of sleep, those horrifying memories give him nightmares.

Around 3 a.m. Andy's had enough. He needs sip of water or a small bite to eat, just anything to take his mind off these nightmarish flashbacks.

He opens the door of his bedroom and strides out into the hallway. Trent's bedroom is right across from the guest bedroom Andy is staying in, and the first thing Andy notices is that Trent has left the door to his room wide open. Andy's heard Trent stumble around a while back, presumably to use the bathroom, and he must have forgotten Andy is staying in the house as well.

Without actively trying, Andy has a clear view of Trent lying spread-eagled on his front in bed, sleeping soundly. The sight sends another involuntary flashback through Andy's mind. Another image of Trent falling to the ground and Andy unable to help him burns behind his eyes. The panic he felt out on the pitch momentarily settles back into his chest, but Andy is able to make the worst of it flow away again.

It's not a conscious decision when Andy silently walks through the open door of Trent's bedroom. His feet simply take him there. He halts at the foot of the bed and looks down at his sleeping friend. The image in itself is nothing new. Andy and Trent have shared many a hotel room during training camps, so Andy's seen Trent asleep often before. But today it hits differently.

And apparently this is what Andy needs to fully let out all the stress and anxiety of today. His hands tremble with sudden emotion, and there's no holding back the tears anymore. Trent is alright, Andy knows that, but the very short moment in which he believed Trent to be going through some life-threatening condition right in front of him, did things to Andy. Things he now, in the middle of the night, has no other choice but to face.

a hiccupped sob escapes Andy, which reverberates like a gunshot through the quiet house. He clasps a hand over his mouth. Trent stirs under the covers before half-opening his eyes. He isn't really awake, but his slumbering gaze still finds Andy. A small smile tugs at the corner of Trent's mouth. "I'm alright, Robbo." The words aren't more than a breath leaving his lips, but Andy hears them. He recollects himself. "I know. Get some more sleep, mate." Trent closes his eyes again and is back asleep in mere seconds.

Trent likely won't remember a thing of this tomorrow, and maybe that's for the best. But for Andy this sleepy reassurance is just what he needs: Trent is going to be perfectly fine.

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The injury, part 1 - Trent Alexander Arnold & Alisson Becker

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Alisson Becker Request: a fic based on the photos below, and Trent's injury vs. Arsenal. Warnings: mentions of injury and anxiety A/N: as I was writing this, it actually turned into a two-parter. The second chapter will drop either tomorrow or Tuesday (depending on me finding the time to type it out 😁)

Trent wasn't one to fake an injury, nor make theatrics for time-wasting purposes. He usually took the brunt of it, ground his teeth together, and got back up again. That was why Alisson immediately knew something was very wrong when Trent didn't get to his feet after a hard tackle on him. Alisson heard his teammate's initial yelp and following pained whimpers even over the noises of the crowd. His instinct told him to go check up on Trent at once, but the referee hadn't stopped play and Arsenal's attack was still very much alive, so Alisson had no choice but to stay put in his goal. From the corner of his eye, Alisson could see Trent lying curled up on the grass. He had to keep his focus on the game, but his heart screamed at him to go check on his obviously injured teammate. Finally, the referee blew his whistle and halted the match. Alisson immediately hurried over. Trent lay on his back by now, hands covering his face and taking rapid breaths. Each of his shuddering exhales was accompanied by a panicked, excruciated whimper. Alisson lowered himself onto one knee by Trent's side. He easily recognized the panic in Trent. The raw fear and pain were so very visible in Trent's trembling hands and breaths close to hyperventilation. "That bad?" Alisson rested a gloved hand on Trent's ribs. He didn't need to ask if Trent was alright, because he obviously was not. Trent nodded feebly under his hands covering his face. "It h-hurts so m-much..." His voice quivered.

The medical team had rushed over, too, and quickly turned their attention to Trent's injured ankle. One of them carefully wrapped his hands around the joint to stabilize it, but no matter how gentle and careful they were being, Trent still cried out in pain. "D--don't..." He gasped, choking slightly on his own erratic breathing. "Please... please, don't move it. It hurts too bad." Alisson still had his hand resting on Trent's heaving chest. He was well aware that Trent might completely lose it, if someone didn't do something fast. "Trent, look at me." Alisson gently pried Trent's hands away from his face. He hovered over his teammate, so Trent could only focus on him. "I know this is painful and hard to deal with, but you can do it. You need to take it easy, though." Trent slowly met Alisson's gaze. His dark, brown eyes held so much fear and pain that it actually left Alisson speechless for a moment. The fact that Trent was truly hyperventilating now, snapped Alisson back into action. "Deep breaths, mate," he guided, "calm down. I know it feels impossible, but try not to lose control." He moved a hand to rest on the top of Trent's head, the keeper's gloves cupping all of his teammate's dreadlocks. It was the movement that finally made Alisson get through to Trent. Trent took a shuddering, whimpering breath, before his breathing fell back into an easier, calmer rhythm. Alisson didn't move. Afraid he might disturb Trent's delicate control over himself, Alisson remained as he sat. "That's it, you're doing great," he continued to sooth. He could easily see Trent's line between somewhat calm and full-blown panic was still wafer-thin, and he wouldn't allow the young Scouser to fall into a panic again. "Trent?" The medic tried to catch Trent's attention. Alisson moved, allowing Trent to slowly sit up and talk to the medic. He kept a watchful eye, though, and remained close by. "I don't think you broke it," the medic started, "but I do think you thoroughly overstretched something." Trent vigorously shook his head. "I don't care what you have to do, but I have to continue. I'll play through the pain." The medic frowned. "I have to strongly advice against that." "Noted," Trent answered, "but I'm not following up on that advice. I'm not getting substituted." Alisson caught Trent's words, and lowered himself onto his haunches again. "Trent, are you sure? This sounds like it could be a serious injury." "I can do it." Trent winced loudly as the medic sprayed a generous amount of icing spray onto his ankle. "I'm not giving up." "No one is saying you're giving up," Alisson tried one last time, "are you really sure about this?" Trent bit his lower lip, doing his best to deal with the pain and find a way for himself to push through it. "I'm sure." Alisson held out his hand, and carefully pulled Trent to his feet. In one fluent motion, he pulled Trent into a bear hug. He still felt Trent was making a bad decision in playing on, but there wasn't much he could do about that. "No one is asking you to torture yourself like this," Alisson spoke softly into Trent's ear, the words intended only for the young Scouser to hear. "You don't have anything to prove to us. You know that, right?" "I know." Trent wrapped his arms tightly around Alisson's tall frame. "Thanks for being there for me just now, Ali." "Just look out for yourself, okay?" Alisson gently patted Trent's back. "And you looked like you needed a bit of support back there." Trent chuckled wearily. "I definitely did."

Part 2 coming either tomorrow or Tuesday! 😇 Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @scuderiavettcl Trent tags: @footballffbarbiex, @sanchoj7 PL tags: @ella33 Liverpool tags: @candlelitutopia Add me to the tags list, too! For more of my TAA imagines, click here For more of my Alisson imagines, click here General masterlist

Let him sleep - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "Guys, just let him sleep." Requested by: unknown Warnings: none A/N: this is one of the requests from the old prompts list which was lost in 'The Hack'. I know which prompt it was and had this already written, but I'm not sure whether it was requested anonymously or not. So, if this was your request and you would have liked to be tagged, I'm sorry 😥

It had been an easy 3-0 win for Liverpool today. Trent had been on a roll, providing the assists for all thee goals, and having altogether the best match he's had in months. He was tired after the match, but it was a good sort of tired. The kind that would have him on a high that could last for days.

Trent stepped aboard their bus, which would take them back to Liverpool. "Well done today." Klopp patted him on the back as he passed. "Thanks." Trent flashed a wide smile, before moving on to his usual seat halfway down the bus, and slumping down on it. The atmosphere in the bus relaxed and cheery. Trent chatted with Jordan for a while, and answered a few WhatsApp messages, but felt himself get more and more drowsy. The adrenaline of the match was slowly making way for the relaxed happiness of the win. Trent decided to rest his eyes for a bit. There was still a rather long drive back to Liverpool ahead of them, so plenty of time for a short nap. He leaned his head against the window, and fell asleep within minutes. Jordan, sitting next to Trent, had known instantly that Trent was sleeping soundly. The young scouser was fully relaxed, a peaceful expression on his face. With his hands resting limply in his lap, and his breathing deep and slow, there was no doubt that Trent was far off in Dreamland. "Yo, Trent!" Virgil suddenly called loudly through the bus, trying to get the younger man’s attention. "Shhh, let him sleep, guys. He deserves it," Jordan protested with a soft chuckle. Trent stirred minutely in the seat beside him, but Jordan was glad to see Trent still slept on. Klopp turned around in his seat to look at the sleeping Trent, too. He smiled softly. "Leave him be. After a match like this, it must be good dreams." And so Trent slept like a baby all the way back to Liverpool.

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Hate - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Request: hey dunno if this will be helpful or not but you said you was having a mental block for the trent fic but maybe you could just write about the liverpool squad coming to check on him after the match and get mad at him for not telling anyone how he had been feeling because they care about him? agin not sure if this will help but you never know haha! have a good day :) Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of anxiety, mental struggles and receiving (online) hate. A/N: Ah, thank you so much for trying to help me, I really appreciate that! 💖 And of course this imagine came out like water out of a faucet 🤪 I changed it slightly from the request, though. Hope you don't mind.😁

If Trent could have just walked off the pitch today, even before full-time, he would have done so without hesitation. Lately he was struggling with his form, and literally every aspect of the game felt like mammoth task to him at the moment, with today's match being no exception. Somewhere around the 80th minute came Trent's breaking point. He made an error which directly lead to their opponent scoring, and Trent could feel himself start to become undone. Tears burned behind his eyes and he found it difficult to concentrate anymore, as he silently spun out of mental control. The shrill sound of the final whistle was a cruel form of liberation to Trent, although he knew the real pain was only just starting... All he wanted to do right now was cry and hide from the world. Hide from the comments of sports commentators and people on social media, who would undoubtedly slaughter him once again for his performance tonight. Trent hurried across the pitch to get back inside as fast as he could. He didn't want to look at the crowd, he didn't want to speak to his teammates, and he even avoided Klopp.

Trent reached the relative quiet of the Liverpool dressing room, and was glad to learn he was the first one back there. Suddenly Trent felt unable to do anything anymore. The mere thought of what would be said about him on the internet tonight made him so unbelievably anxious. He sank to the ground, in the middle of the dressing room, burying his face in his hands. Tears spilled into his hands, as it all became too much. "Trentski?" Trent wasn't sure how long he had sat there until Andy found him. The Scot sounded genuinely worried for him. "Are you okay?" Andy sat on his haunches next to Trent, resting a hand on his friend's back. Trent looked up, shaking his head. "I'm worthless." "What are you on about?" Andy frowned. "Is this about all that online hate stuff?" Before Trent could answer, Jordan walked in. One look at his teammates sitting on the floor made him turn around to Virgil, who was behind him, and tell the Dutchman to keep everyone out of the dressing room for a few minutes longer. Jordan quietly closed the door behind him. "This doesn't look good." Andy looked up at his captain, sadly shaking his head. "Trent?" Jordan sat down on the floor on Trent's other side. He didn't need any explanation to know that the problem was with Trent. The young defender sat shivering beside him, looking lost and miserable. "Remember what I told you when you first joined this team?" Jordan sounded comforting and fatherly. "That I could always talk to you about anything," Trent sniffled. "Right," Jordan confirmed, "and I'm sure the same goes for Robbo." "Absolutely," Andy immediately agreed. Jordan allowed a short silence before he spoke again. "Maybe it's time you talked to us, mate." Trent looked from Andy to Jordan, searching to put into words what he felt. "I'm not good enough for this team," Trent finally confessed, hanging his head. "Everyone's saying it. Maybe I should just accept that's how it is." Andy scoffed at the mere idea of this. "I'm sure no on in the team would agree with you on that, laddie." "No." Jordan wrapped his hand around Trent's shoulder. "We believe in you, and I'm sure I'm speaking for the entire team when I'm saying that. I know you might not be having the best period form-wise, but that doesn't immediately make you make you unworthy of this team. Better times will come." Trent sniffled again, wiping his nose on the long sleeves of his undershirt. These words eased his mind somewhat, and he was grateful for Jordan's and Andy's concern for him, but he knew it would still be a long road to actually feeling better. "Maybe, for your well-being, you should stay off social media for a while," Andy suggested, "I don't like you getting so affected by it." Trent nodded. "I will." "And if this ever happens again, you feeling this bad, you talk to us immediately," Jordan urged once more, "please don't wait until you break down like this again. Robbo and I care about you, the whole team cares about you, and we hate to see you so miserable." Andy rose to his feet, and pulled Trent up with him. "Remember that we're always here for you." "You're important to this team," Jordan threw in, "and no amount of hate, online or otherwise, is ever going to change that." Trent smiled briefly. These words, spoken by two of the people he admired most, meant the world to him. "But what if this bothers me every day, though?" Andy clasped Trent's shoulder. "Than we'll talk every day. If that's what you need, than that's what we'll do."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001 TAA tags: @footballffbarbiex, @sanchoj7 PL tags: @ella33 LFC tags: @candlelitutopia, @percervall Add me to the tags list, too! For more of my TAA imagines, click hereGeneral masterlist

Exhausted - Trent Alexander-Arnold & Andy Robertson

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Andy Robertson Request: hii :) could you do a trent fic where he gets injured during a match or in training and passes out or even he doesnt get injured just passes out from exhaustion and the team crouds round and medics get called over and of course have robbo being worried about him. Thank youu ! :))) Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of injury / passing out, worry/panic A/N: Just let me know if, after reading this, anyone would be interested in a part 2 to this imagine. I'm kind of having an idea for a second part to this, but not sure if anyone thinks this is imagine is any good and deserves another part 😁

He should have asked for rest, or at least said something about how he wasn't feeling in top condition, Trent realized that much now. For weeks, he had been feeling so tired and altogether out of energy, but it never once crossed his mind to ask to be left out of the lineup. A decision he would come to regret... ----- The match turned out to be hard and quite physically demanding. They weren't even halfway through the second half, or Trent had already run himself completely ragged. Still, he refused to give up and get himself substituted. His performance was still above average, and he willed himself to keep going. But he knew he was pushing himself to his limits, and already well beyond those. In the 78th minute was when things went completely sideways for Trent. He lined up together with Andy for a free kick close to their opponent's goal. As he stood waiting for the referee to blow his whistle, Trent suddenly felt himself get unwell. The world swam around him all of a sudden, and it was like the stadium sounds were coming to him through a mile of water. His vision started to darken, and he felt like all his muscles had suddenly lost all their strength. "Robbo, I... I d-don't feel so good..." Trent staggered on his feet. He tried to reach for Andy's shoulder for some support, but missed. "Trent? What's going on?" Andy was confused as to what was happening, but when Trent suddenly collapsed right in front of him, Andy understood only too well. A sort of groaned breath escaped Trent's lips as he slumped to the ground, where he lay motionless. With what had happened to Christian Eriksen at the Euro 2020 still rather fresh in everyone's minds, the panic on the pitch was instantaneous. Most of all with Andy. "HELP! MEDICS!" Andy cried out. He threw himself onto his knees by Trent's side. "No, no, no.... Trent? Please, be okay... you're not doing this to me, mate." Andy frantically grabbed Trent's limp hand and pressed his fingers against the pulse point of the slender wrist. He was just able to feel a strong and steady heartbeat, when he was pushed out of the way by the arrival of the medical team.

Andy remained closeby as the medics worked on Trent. Even though he was scared shitless and panic surged through his body, Andy needed to see and hear everything that was happening with his friend. The medics were trying to get Trent to wake up, but so far to no avail. "Come on, Trentski." Andy felt tears of silent panic burn in his eyes. "Please, mate, just open your eyes." Andy felt and arm snake around his shoulders in comfort, and found Jordan appear next to him. "Are you alright?" The captain asked. Andy shook his head. "Not until I'm sure he is." "What happened?" Jordan, too, looked down at the seemingly still unconscious Trent. "I don't know." Andy's voice sounded strained with emotion. "He said something about not feeling well, and then he just... collapsed." Jordan frowned in concern. He had to admit this didn't sound altogether reassuring, but he decided not to voice those concerns to Andy at this moment. "But I felt a heartbeat..." Andy vigorously nodded his head, the suppressed panic visible in all his features. "I felt his pulse, Hendo, and he still has a heartbeat." Jordan tightened his arm around Andy's shoulder, hoping to calm the Scot down at least a little bit. "That's a very good sign." Suddenly, Andy saw something that made his heart jump in relief: Trent moved. It wasn't big, just the movement of an arm, but enough for Andy to believe that Trent at least was regaining consciousness. "Oh, thank heavens!" Andy exclaimed, clasping his hands over his face. "He's responding to them." The relief sounded through in Jordan's voice, too. The captain was right, though. Trent definitely seemed to answer when the medics spoke to him or asked him to complete simple tasks. "Andy!" Andy startled slightly when one of the medics called out to him, but he didn't hesitate for a second. He immediately rushed over and dropped himself to his knees by Trent's side. Trent lay on his back. Liverpool's medical team still surrounded him and were keeping a close eye on his condition, but Andy noticed they were calm and didn't appear to be too worried. He took it as a good sign. "Hey, Trentski." Andy ventured a careful smile. He was glad to see Trent looking up at him, even if it was still a somewhat dazed look. "Robbo..." Trent sounded oh so exhausted. "I'm sorry I scared you." "That you did," Andy scoffed, "what happened?" Trent closed his eyes and took his time opening them again before he answered. "I exhausted myself. I've been so tired these past weeks, and..." Trent fell silent. "Your body told you to stop," Andy finished for him. "Yeah," Trent mumbled. Andy didn't make any comments on Trent's decisions to make himself available for this match even when he clearly hadn't been feeling altogether right. That was a conversation for a later date. For now Andy was just glad that this was 'all', and there was no reason to assume something was horribly wrong with Trent. "Robbo..." Trent caught his friend's attention one final time before he would be carried off the pitch. "What's it, mate?" Andy rested a hand on Trent's chest. "Top left," Trent mumbled. Andy frowned. "Huh?" "The free kick." Trent smiled tiredly. "Top left. It's the goalkeeper's weak corner." "Andy laughed. "That's what you're worrying about right now?" Trent didn't have time to come up with a response, as the medics choose that moment to lift him of the ground and stretcher him off the pitch. He was carried through the players' tunnel, when suddenly an almighty roar of cheers erupted through the stadium. Trent chuckled softly to himself, because he knew Andy had put the ball in the top left corner.

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Clumsy - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Prompt: "I--I'm bleeding." Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of blood and minor injury

It had just been a clumsy move when Trent knocked the big glass vase that stood on your dinner table to the ground. But, all the same, it shattered into a million pieces onto the floor. "Ah, fuck me," Trent grumbled, already lowering himself onto his haunches to clean up the mess. "What happened?" You came trotting down the stairs, startled by the noise of things breaking. "I knocked the vase over," Trent answered sullenly. He looked from the pieces of glass, to you. "I don't think there's a chance of gluing it back together."

His short moment of looking away from what his hands were doing, the second of inattentiveness, was immediately punished by a shard of broken glass cutting nastily into his finger. "Ow!" Trent yelped, leaping to his feet. "Oh my god," you gasped, "are you alright?" "No," Trent winced, "I-- I'm bleeding." He looked down horrorstruck at the gash in his finger, from which blood now spilt. You immediately sprang into action, taking Trent's injured hand in yours to have a quick look. "It doesn't look too bad, but we need to tend to it anyway." You guided Trent to the bathroom, where you ran his finger under the tap in the wash basin, until you were sure it was properly clean. "Here." You sat Trent down on the edge of the bathtub. "It bloody hurts," Trent moaned as you rummaged around in the first aid kit for some gauze and a bandage. "I imagine it does," you agreed, "it's a nasty cut." "But I guess I'm lucky to have lovely nurse," Trent grinned. You rolled your eyes at him, but laughed anyway. You knelt down in front of Trent, and expertly bandaged his injured finger. It earned you a few winces and whimpers from him, but knowing it had to be done, you didn't let it stop you. "All done." You finally announced. Trent looked down at the neat bandage around his finger, seeming impressed. "Thanks, babe." "Still in pain?" You smiled. "Because, if you are, I can make us some hot cocoa with marshmallows." "In that case," Trent smirked, "lots of pain." You got to your feet and gave him a quick kiss. "Coming right up."

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I've got you - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold Request: 5 w/ TAA Prompt #5: "I've got you, it's okay." Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of being sad, feeling down and crying

You knew Trent took losing the Champions League final to Madrid quite hard. You hadn't been able to travel with him to Paris, but were on the phone with him right after the match. His voice sounded strained, and it wasn't hard to hear he did his utmost best to keep his composure. You didn't pressure him. He would be back home tomorrow, and you were quite sure everything would come out then. You couldn't have been more right.... As a surprise to him, you stood waiting for Trent at the airport the next morning. The minute he saw you, the little bit of composure he had been able to cling onto until now, just completely fell apart. Tears were already streaming down Trent's face as he hurried over to you. He immediately nestled himself in your outstretched arms, burying his face in your shoulder. His sobs were muffled, but audible, and rocked his shoulders. "I've got you, it's okay." You wrapped your arms around him, and held him in a comforting embrace. For minutes he stood with you like that. All the stress and excitement of the entire busy season, which had had its culmination with the Champions League final, came out now. You didn't speak. You only ran a hand slowly over Trent's back and allowed him to let it all out. Without having known it himself, this was just what Trent had needed ever since last night. With every tear he cried into your shoulder, he felt himself deflate, letting everything go, and it felt liberating. "Feeling a little bit better?" You asked close to his ear, so only he would hear. Trent nodded his silent reply into your shoulder. "Want to go home?" You continued. Trent looked up, pulling slowly out of your embrace. "Yes, please." You ran a thumb over his tear-stained cheeks, carefully brushing a few tears away. "You'll be okay, babe," you said softly. "I know," Trent mumbled brokenly, "but not yet." "Leave that up to me." You placed the softest kiss on his lips. "I'm going to make sure you're alright."

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The injury, part 2 - Trent Alexander-Arnold

PART 1 CAN BE FOUND HERE Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Jürgen Klopp Request: fic based on the photos below and Trent's injury vs. Arsenal. Warnings: mentions of injury and anxiety. A/N: this is a direct continuation of this imagine. This second part is mostly based on what happens after the moment of these photos, and mostly based on Klopp's quote pictured below.

By the time the half-time whistle sounded, Trent knew it was over. In the 20 minutes he had played on since sustaining the injury, the pain had only gotten worse, and was now so bad that he could barely put weight on that leg anymore. Especially these last five minutes he got through on sheer willpower alone. But now, all that willpower was spent... Klopp stood waiting for him at the entrance to the players' tunnel after the first half ended. The coach never did that. He always waited for his team in the dressing room at half-time, so Trent knew Klopp had seen him struggling to even move at all. Trent was in so much pain by now that he was biting back tears. "I tried, I tried..." He stammered desperately as soon as he was within earshot of Klopp. "I really did, but..." "I know." Klopp slung a fatherly arm around Trent's shoulders. He could see his young player was close to a breakdown and could use the support. One quick look down at Trent's ankle showed it was swelling up hugely, which Klopp could clearly see even through Trent's socks, and suddenly he realized exactly how much pain Trent had probably been playing through.

"I'm sorry." Trent hung his head, finally allowing himself to give up. "Don't say that." Klopp tightened his arm around Trent's shoulders and pulled the young Scouser closer into his side. "You gave it everything you had and more, I can't ask anything further of you. In the seven years I've known you, you've never once asked me to be substituted because of pain. I know you're a fighter, but everyone has their limits." Trent nodded silently. "I would've played on if I could have." "I know you would," Klopp agreed, "but don't worry about that now. Go inside, have that ankle checked out. It looks nasty, even just through your socks." Klopp watched silently as the dejection spread through all of Trent's features. He knew how Trent struggled with his form lately and the abuse he was taking for it on social media. But the public didn't see Trent's dedication, the 1000% Trent always gave for anything to do with the team. Klopp did, of course. And that was why he felt so sorry for Trent. He wished an injury upon no one, but especially for Trent it could not have come at a worse moment. --- About ten minutes into the second half, Trent limped out of the players' tunnel and seated himself on the substitutes' bench to watch the remainder of the match. A large bag of ice was wrapped around his ankle. Klopp knew Trent through and through. He could see the obvious discomfort in the young Scouser, and the red eyes easily betrayed he had been crying. Klopp shortly stepped away from the touchline, making his way in between the seats of the substitutes' bench. Trent startled slightly when Klopp rested a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder. The coach smiled gently. "You'll be okay." Trent looked up at Klopp, so very grateful for this small gesture of comfort, and for the first time since sustaining his injury, he smiled ever so slightly. It did nothing to relieve the pain or the injury itself, but this simple gesture from Klopp at least made Trent feel a little bit better.

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