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lettersofgold · 4 months

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-> Into You - Jude Bellingham

jude bellingham x reader

genre: fluff, yearning | warnings: drinking, implied sexual interest | note: loosely edited

summary: jude is all alone at a wedding reception until you rearrange the seating chart and he finds himself so into you.

Jude’s eyes scanned the elaborate seating chart for an embarrassingly long time. The other guests came and went with laughter bubbling out of their alcohol-coated lips, not even noticing the boy mumbling to himself. His name had to be on there - the wedding was so elaborate and meticulously planned that he knew he couldn’t have been forgotten, right? But as Jude continued to stare at the calligraphy, his neck prickled with heat. If he was being reasonable, his name was obviously on the list. If he was thinking about the way he was invited, they forgot to add him to the list, the same way they failed to send a save-the-date to him. He only learned of his friend's wedding about two months ago - which, in his world, was like a couple of days. Jude continued to scan each “J” name he found.

Jason, no.

Jackson, no.

Justin, almost.

Jude, finally.

Jude felt briefly at ease as he turned and looked at the array of tables - where the hell could table twelve be? He turned back to the board as if it would magically give him more answers. He hyped himself up to be casually conversational - fake it til you make it, he repeated in his mind. The thought of sitting with strangers made him self-conscious. Jude walked around the surprisingly empty table until he found his name neatly etched into a golden brown envelope. He inhaled a deep breath as he drummed his fingers on the table. “Champagne?” You stood above him with two flutes of champagne nearly foaming over the top. He didn’t get a chance to answer before you placed the glass in front of him before you surveyed the table, eyeing each person's assigned seat - you stopped momentarily and grabbed one envelope, then another. You switched them and smiled to yourself. You did the same again, but this time with your envelope, and sat triumphantly beside Jude. With your body turned next to Jude and your knees brushed against him, he couldn’t help but notice the slit of your dress - it trailed dangerously high up your thigh.

“If I’m not tipsy within the next hour,” Your voice made him focus on your face, and the depth and color of your eyes floored him. Jude couldn’t remember when he had seen a woman so effortlessly pretty. “Please remind me that it’s an open bar.” You smiled up at him. Even sitting down, Jude was much taller than you. Jude nodded and introduced himself, and you did the same, both of you immediately leaning into each other to talk about the people coming to sit at the table. You listed the names of people you knew who would be attending the wedding: Margaret, who would attempt to set up her daughter with Jude but would ultimately fail; Robbie and his wife Jodie, who tended to drink more than they should and would rant about their son finding a nice girl like you to settle down with. Lastly, Miss Celia, who you mentioned, would judge the wedding because in her mind nothing could compare to her daughter's wedding. You giggled while talking about how Miss Celia would sit down and immediately complain.

As Miss Celia placed her bag on the table, she lived up to your expectations and made a sly comment, "Isn't it a cute wedding? The venue looks cheap... I wonder whose decision this was," while sucking her teeth. Your hand immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, and Jude's head dropped as he tried desperately not to laugh with you. Jude’s hand settled on your knee as he whispered, “What’s your story?” “You first.” You countered with a smooth sip of the last glass of champagne. “How much time do you have?” He said easily. “We’ve got all night.” You replied.

You were talking to Jude, and you felt like you could go on forever. He was so focused on you that you felt certain that this was not going to be the last time you saw him. The dance floor was crowded, but the table was almost empty except for Miss Celia, who sat with a tight expression and her purse on her lap. Jude only interrupted your monologue to ask questions that would send you on another tangent, and before you knew it, time had passed you by. You excused yourself to the restroom and tiptoed through the crowd on the dance floor.

“Hey, why don't you ask her to dance already?" said Miss Celia with a sour expression. Jude shook his head, trying to be respectful. She didn’t have the warmest demeanor and he didn’t want to end up on the wrong end of her attitude. "What's the hold-up? It's obvious that you like her," she continued, noticing how cozy the two of you looked sitting together, knee to knee. His arm was draped around your chair the entire time you were talking, and you placed yourself close because the music was too loud. As much as he wanted to deny his attraction, his body language spoke volumes to Miss Celia.

"I would, but I don't know how," he laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Miss Celia was not amused by his pitiful admission and rolled her eyes. "Who cares? If you don't ask her to dance, some other man will, which would break your little heart," she scolded. Jude knew she was right. “My husband didn’t know how to dance either. Now look at me.” She waved her ring finger at him with a straight face.

Before he could talk himself out of asking you to dance, you were back and pulling him out of his seat.

“I love this song!” You yelled. Into You by Ariana Grande blasted through the speakers, and Jude grimaced at the corny pop music, but you were practically dragging him to dance and he wasn't going to protest. You found a spot in the middle of the crowded floor and immediately started to sing as you grinned at him.

“The temperature's rising in here. Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move,” you sang.

Jude couldn't help feeling nervous at how intimidating something as innocent as dancing could be. Your mouth was wide open as you sang the song aloud with the rest of the people on the dance floor. You seemed to be lost in your own world, with your eyes closed, head tilted back, swaying to the lyrics. For a moment, Jude looked around and prayed that no one saw him as he started dancing along to the song. “A little less conversation and a little more touch my body,” you continued as you turned around and placed your backside on his hips. The friction of your body whining up against him was making him weak. Jude caught the tempo of your body and found himself clinging to your touch. You tilted your head backward and onto his chest and continued to grind carelessly into him. Jude was a mess over you. You pulled his hand around your waist and allowed him the opportunity to take a bit of control. The palm of his hand was large and hot against the slit of your dress. He was in a daze for a while due to the combination of his body heat, expensive champagne, music, and the truth of the lyrics. Ariana’s melodic voice singing out,

“Tell me what you came here for 'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more I'm on the edge with no control And I need, I need you to know.”

Without missing a beat he grabbed your hand and spun you around and you laughed at the sudden action. You mouthed the lyrics without breaking eye contact and abruptly the room felt too hot but he didn't feel close enough. Jude’s arm found your lower waist as he flushed his body against yours with an electric grip, your eyes trailing down to his lips. His forehead fell onto yours lightly as the two of you continued to grind on one another, his arm holding you in your place. For a moment you could hardly breathe but when his lips touched yours a rush of white hot desire flooded your body. It was a soft kiss and you drunkenly pulled him closer by the nape of his neck, not wanting to escape the taste of him. Jude hummed into the kiss, deepening his tongue into your mouth. You knew that if it wasn't for him holding you by the waist you would have stumbled backward by the sheer neediness in the kiss. You were nearly making out on the dance floor when you decided to pull away, wiping at the corners of your mouth, certain that your lipstick was smudged. As much as you wanted to have him all over you, the middle of the dance floor during a wedding was not the best place to do so.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded.

“Would you want to get out of here?” Asking him that was the most nervous you had been all night. He didn't hesitate and immediately offered to order an Uber while you went to grab your things. You felt the scrutiny of Miss Celia’s gaze and you felt embarrassed as Jude placed his jacket over your shoulders. Miss Celia eyed the two of you and you thought a sly comment was on her tongue but instead of making a comment, she sent a wink towards Jude who held a knowing smile on his face. You weren’t sure what happened between the pair while you were away but clearly they were now in cahoots.

“Don’t have too much fun.” She replied in her usual cool tone but this time, there was a smile on her face.

#football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham #lettersofgold one shot

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lettersofalover · 19 days

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*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ lettersofalover *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

about me -> hi friends! it’s me, lettersofgold. if the name rings a bell it’s because this is my second blog writing under this username, specifically for women athletes. but i’m happy to be catering to a new audience. i have SO many fun ideas planned and i hope you all love reading them. here’s a few things i want to talk about:

-> will requests always be open? - no, requests will be a seasonal thing.

-> who do you write for? - just send me an ask & i’ll let you know! the answer is usually yes.

-> what should we expect? - seasonal prompt requests, one shots, mini series & blurbs.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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-> nasty | trent alexander arnold | blurb

genre: smut | warnings: 18+ work underneath the cut, not for minors, mentions of drinking, loosely edited

note: this a re-uploaded fic from my previous account of the same name.

nasty by ariana grande

First impressions were important and boy, did he make one on you. But nothing could have prepared you for the man you met when the two of you had finally gotten to be alone. His lips against yours were heated, his hands on each side of your face as he walked you backward and up against the wall. They say it's always the quiet one you have to look out for - but it seemed Trent had been looking out for you.

Your flirting and teasing him had taken him over the edge and here he was, in your hotel room, making you nearly beg him to fuck you.

His hands snaked up your face and around your hair gently grabbing it and pulling your head to the side.

He broke away from the kiss and focused his efforts on the nape of your neck, eliciting needy moans out of your mouth and you could feel the smile against your skin. Any dignity you had left had vanished as you thought of all the moments that lead you here - all of the shameless flirting, stolen glances, and late-night texts. Trent had finally taken the next step and God, you were thankful but you had been equally blown away. Trent had taken it upon himself to knock on your door after you texted him that you had been drinking wine all night and he was there to help you out. His free hand found your ass and pulled you closer - you weren't sure you physically could get any loser. You hiked up your leg and his bulge was prominent against your core, you were sure that if you didn't have him in you soon, you would scream."Condom," you gasped out, hoping he would catch your drift and pause.

Instead of pausing, he simply picked you, gripping your thighs and asking where. You directed him to the bathroom and he carried you there, placing you on your feet so you could locate the condoms that you knew you had. You had finally located it and you handed it to him with a smile on your face. You had known Trent to be a man of few words and that remained true as he had said very few words, you guessed that he was entirely too occupied with pleasing you to say anything. You couldn't read the expression on his face at all and you suddenly were unsure.

"We don't have to do this," you spoke meekly. "If you don't want to I understand-" you backtracked.

"Oh no," he reassured. He backed you up against the bathroom counter and closed the gap between you two, his lips hovering near your ear.

"I've been wanting this for a long time. I just need you to do something for me,"

"What's that?" You questioned, a smile spreading across your face.

"Strip for me," Trent asked. The flush that warmed up through your neck could not be stifled, even with all the wine that you previously consumed. But the way he looked at you, made you want to strip for him.

So you did.

You slipped off the marble counter of the bathroom as Trent sat in the chair in the suite. He made sure your trip to Liverpool was unforgettable. It would be unforgettable in more ways than one. He sat there, legs spread in his sweatpants and no shirt on - biting his lip and smiling softly at you. His smile lit up the room and it was as if he set your soul on fire by doing so. You wore a silky dress that could be considered an underslip, pastel pink, and soft against the skin. You toyed with the strap of the dress, rubbing it between the pads of your fingers before pulling it halfway down your arm. You repeated the same process on the other arm. Your skin felt warm as Trent's jaw tensed at the sight of your red lingerie push bra. Your breasts were all but spilling over as you leaned on your hands and tilted your body forward, letting him enjoy the sight of you, the sight of the colors of his team on your skin. You moved closer and walked towards the gorgeous man who was looking at you like you were a piece of artwork coming to life. You stood between his legs, turning, pushing the silk down your skin tauntingly slow.

Before you let the fabric hit the floor, you propped your foot in the space between Trent's legs, urging him to remove to remove the red garter that adorned your thigh. It was a deliberate choice to have it be a red and strapped with a heart. He took one look at the arch of your foot and up your exposed leg and removed it - with the smooth scrape of his teeth. His brown eyes never left yours. He palmed the fabric as you continued to strip for him. You dropped down to your knees, thankful for the luxurious hotel's padded flooring.

You thought it odd but it was perfect now, seeing his eyes follow yours while you got on your knees. You placed your hair over your breast deciding to give him a peep show while at it. You unclasped the bra and tossed the expensive thing to the side. Pulling your hair off your breast you braced your hands on his muscular thighs and rose slowly - his lips nearly grazing your nipple. The heat of his breath against your skin was such a fulfilling feeling and you were sure to be soaking through those crotchless panties.

Trent smiled up at you as you climbed atop him, his hands finding your hips with ease, toying with the hem of the panties before placing a finger on what he thought would be fabric but was indeed, your cunt.

He slipped a single finger inside and you sighed at his touch.

"My colors and easy access. Naughty one aren't you?" and just like that, his finger was gone. He eyed you, testing you as he placed the fingers to your mouth and you sucked the taste of yourself off of his fingers. In one swift movement, Trent picked you up and moved you to the marble counter once more. His frame was much taller than yours but it looks so right - his head fell into the crook of your neck, kissing you and biting at your skin. Surely to leave permanence on your skin. The sight of his muscles in the mirror was a picture of perfection. Usually, you would have cared but under him, and in this moment, you could not find a reason to. You dropped your head and he picked it back up by your neck - forcing you to meet his eyes in the mirror.

"Don't look away," Trent demanded as he entered you slowly. You wanted to crumble underneath the feeling of him inside of you but his grip on your hair tightened as he pushed in and you with a delicious rhythm. You bit your lip trying to compose yourself as you watched him in the mirror. His eyes were trained on your ass, watching it bounce against his skin as he thrust into you harder. He muttered his praises about how good you felt on him, telling you how good you were taking it. You whimpered out in pleasure as he let go of your hair and wrapped his hand around your throat - locking eyes with you in the mirror.

"Keep your eyes on me, baby," he spoke calmly. His voice was so even and unfazed the entire time he had been fucking you. As if he was just having a conversation with you at dinner.

"You look so good, I want you to see how good you look fucking me back."

#trent alexander arnold x y/n #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold imagines #football fanfic #football x reader #lettersofgold one shot #football x you

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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prompt 6 with jude?? thank u!!

-> better late than never | jude bellingham

visuals

the holidays were very stressful for you. however, with jude as your boyfriend, you felt that the stress couldn't touch the absolute fear running through your body. this was the first time that your new beau was to meet your family, and he was late. your aunts and uncles were eagerly waiting to meet him, and they made it clear that they would grill him just like any other boy you had dated. this was terrifying for you and off-putting for the boys who had experienced it before. the number of people inside your childhood home was potentially a safety hazard, but that's how your family operated: large, boisterous, and fun. with every passing moment, you became increasingly convinced that Jude had overslept. jobe hadn't seen or heard from him, and you couldn't get hold of him on his phone. although it wasn't a dire situation that he was running late, you wanted jude to arrive before the rest of the family, who were sure to smother him. now, it would be a full-on ambush as soon as he stepped through the door.

jude has finally arrived, and you hurried to greet him. you really loved him and wanted your family to feel the same way. you hoped that he would also love your family and that they wouldn't come on too strong and scare him off. as he got out of the Uber and waved goodbye to the driver who shouted a "hala madrid" with a friendly smile, you noticed that his hands were full. this confused you because you didn't ask him to bring anything. you stood there with your arms crossed and a furrowed brow, trying to hold back your growing frustration.

“jude, you’re late.” you deadpanned. you wanted to make this as smooth as a family meeting a new boyfriend could be, but it was becoming hard. his status was one thing that everyone was concerned about, but now him seemingly showing up whenever he wanted didn’t come off on the best foot.

“i know, i know, ‘m so sorry.” jude pleaded, his big brown eyes were doing that thing that made you weak in the knees. he looked so apologetic that you couldn’t continue to give him the cold shower. “it’s been a shit show. left my wallet at home when i went to grab these from the store, then halfway through the uber back home, my phone died, and then-“

“hold on, breathe, and give me that.” you took one of the bags out of his hand and peered inside. various deserts filled the bag, as well as a few other unidentified goodies. he was still rambling. you surveyed your boyfriend in his frazzled state, and all you could do was laugh inwardly. the sight of your tall and handsome boyfriend, standing at 6'1", wearing his stylish cardigan while juggling multiple items in his hand and trying to keep his phone from slipping out of his grasp, was truly endearing and charming watch.

“- and I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers your mom would like, so i’ve got three of them, which i think will be okay, but if she doesn’t, then i’ll send more, and i remember your dad saying he likes this particular whiskey. i don’t know if i actually grabbed the right one. mum said it was the thought that counts, right? but i don’t want it to be wrong! this is my first time, and my shirt is wrinkled, and i know I’m late, and i feel bad.” jude paused for a moment, looking up at the sky as he exhaled deeply. his face was flushed, and it was clear that he was nervous.

“and i know you’re probably mad at me, but will a kiss help my case?” jude asked in his state of desperation.“babe,” you placed the items on the ground before pulling him close to you. you felt him exhale as he rested his head on your shoulder. “i’m not mad.”’

“you sure?” “positive.” you laughed lightly.

“i cannot lie…i’m terrified.” he admitted quietly.

“it’s gonna be fine.” you assured him while rubbing his back. “they’re going to bully you a bit…especially my uncle, who’s a barca fan, but they will love you, i promise.” he lifted his head, laughing at the bags that separated you before nodding in agreement.

“bit too much?” he laughed.

“just a bit. but it’s okay.” youu gave him a deep and reassuring kiss on your toes, which he eagerly returned.

"hey," your uncle shouted from the front door, and Jude quickly moved away, looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. you didn't need to turn around to know it was your uncle who favored barca. the rest of your family was in the living room, engaged in a heated debate over a card game that everyone was convinced was rigged .“ya just gonna make out all night?”

“no sir, sorry.” jude stumbled, but you quickly grabbed the rest of the bags and looped your arms through his, guiding him towards the door. as you approached, jude grew tense, sensing your uncle's disapproving gaze. you allowed Jude to walk in front of you, and as he did, your uncle grabbed the bags out of his hands and pulled him in for a bro-hug. with a loud announcement, your uncle welcomed Jude into the house. “golden boy’s here.” and the commotion began.

#football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #lettersofgold blurb #jude bellingham drabble #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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prompt #3 with ruben dias would be so cute 🥹

-> i want it? i got it | ruben dias | “i know you liked it so i got it for you.”

at first, you thought it was just a one-off - ruben had gotten your favorite snacks and put them in his place so that while you waited on him or worked from his house, you would have all your favorites at your fingertips. delivery service wasn’t an option for you, considering the community's high profile. the last thing you wanted was to leak his address accidentally. you were grateful that he did it for you because, well, his food was all health-focused - made and considered optimally for his in-season training - and not at all yummy to the regular person. in your mind, it was just a tiny and considerate thing.

if you were going to a game? he left you with multiple jersey options and cute sneakers to match. he couldn’t bear the idea of you not having his name on your back, he once said. it sent butterflies through you, so you happily wore it. but you thought that was the case with any of the wives and girlfriends, so you didn’t ponder it. just the “I-have-a-professional-footballer-boyfriend.” style and look.

the next time was stunning. in passing you mentioned that peonies were your favorite flowers and when you arrived to your office, the secretary let you know you had something waiting for you on your desk. it wasn’t unusual for you to receive packages but you usually got them delivered to the secretary and picked them up on the way in. they weren’t delivered to your office. multiple bouquets of peonies were placed around your office. you mouth was agape as you studied the flowers that brightened your office - there were two larger bouquets on your desk, a smaller pair on your coffee table, and one on the window seal next to a photo of you and ruben. on your desk chair sat a light pink card that matched the flowers, inscribed with a note from ruben:

te amo para sempre, querida xx ruben (love you forever, darling.)

your hand flew to your mouth as you sighed in awe of your boyfriend. he never failed to make you feel adored. when you began causally dating you told him how no one was ever in love you with the same way you loved them - it seemed ruben was determined to change that. he was doing a damn great job.

it finally clicked that when you mentioned something to ruben, he would make it happen for you. you were sitting at the kitchen island working later than usual when you grumbled about how you missed another night out with your girlfriends. girls’ nights were far and in between - one of your friends was expecting, another engaged, and one in another city. you couldn’t remember that time all three of you together. ruben kissed your head and told you it would be fine, that things would slow down and if you didn’t get the rest you needed - he would make you slow down.

“is that an order?” you giggled as he tugged your chin up towards him. “it is.” he laughed but you knew he was serious. you simply rolled your eyes at him and didn’t think twice.

but then, after a few moments, your phone dinged with a confirmation of a reservation to your favorite restaurant for a party of four - you were sure it was a mistake because that particular restaurant was booked out for a few months - but your name was addressed directly at the beginning and end of the email. you were confused because the last time you called, you got waitlisted, so you didn’t even attempt to book a dinner, opting to lose out on the reservation instead of waiting. you weren’t the most patient person. but you knew for a fact you didn’t just make a reservation. ruben’s voice came down the hall, and he appeared in sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his waist. you let your eyes trail the chiseled v-cut of his lower abdomen before speaking, “babe?” you asked walking closer to him. “did you make this reservation for me?”

he nodded as he reached you but a frown formed on his face. “is that the wrong place?”

“no, no. i love it there but why did you make a reservation for me?”

“well you said you liked it there but there was a waitlist so i got you and your friends reservations…” he spoke as if it was common to do such a thing.

“ruben, you’re spending too much on me.” you tilted your head and looked up at him through your lashes. his frown deepened after the words left your mouth. he licked his lips and sighed.

“querida, nothing is too much when it comes to you,” he spoke in that calm voice you loved. so confident and steady. “money comes and goes. but you? you don’t. i don’t care the cost. if you like it and it makes you smile, I’ll get it for you. i want to see you happy; that’s all that matters.” ruben reasoned. it was hard to hear because no one had loved you so much, not in the way ruben did. no one ever expressed their love so openly and shamelessly. he pulled you in for a hug and sat his chin on your head as you mumbled protests into his chest. you were rambling about how it’s too much, he shouldn’t be doing all this for you, and endless other things that ruben chose to ignore.

“stop.” he pulled away and crouched to be at eye level with you, “it’s my money, and i want to spend it on you. when you marry me, then it’s yours too, okay? but for now it’s mine, and i’m going to get you everything you want querida.”

ruben pecked your lips and turned, heading back towards where he came as if he hadn’t just dropped the most giant bomb on you - it seemed that if you wanted it, you got it. and you so desperately loved and wanted it. and you were ready to get it.

#ruben dias x you #football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #football x reader #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias smut #ruben dias #lettersofgold blurb #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fic

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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-> when i’m not around you, i’m happier than ever | trent alexander arnold blurb

note: this a re-uploaded fic from my previous account of the same name.

"i thought you were supposed to call me," you nearly yelled. it took all of your energy to collect yourself as you let your ex-boyfriend into your place. he mumbled under his breath and you knew it was a smart ass comment. that's all he did, run his mouth and make false promises.

"why would I call? you knew i was coming." trent pushed past you and into the living room his eyes scanning the array of boxes labeled with his name. post break up, you decided that it was time to move. a new place in the city - closer to work and to family and friends. and hopefully into the arms of a man who cares to not put his own ambitions over your relationship.

"i told you to call because I have plans trent," your voice rose, rolling your eyes at his assumptions. you knew he thought you would be sulking and waiting for him. but this was a cycle that was now ending. you'd been back and forth with him for years now and you were tired of guessing whether you were actually a priority or just a good time girl.

"despite what you may think, the world doesn't fucking revolve around you and your schedule." you seethed absolutely tired of being nice. you were over being the biggest person. if anyone needed to grow up it was him. you maneuvered through the mess of your living room and scooped up your small bottle of wine. you don't even drink - that's how bad trent made you feel.

"im not going to listen to you bitch at me so you can leave and I'll lock it up the apartment," his voice filled with venom.

"how convenient that you're here to pick up your shit but couldn't make it when I made plans for us." you yelled back, trying to focus on outlining your lips. the wine and the anger seeping out of you made it twice as difficult.

trent appeared and you jumped out of skin making you drop your liner with a loud groan.

"fuck, trent," you grumbled.

"why are there so many boxes?" he asked. he already knew this answer, you could see it in his eyes. this was the part where you would normally start to feel bad. but why should you feel bad? this was all his own doing. he wasn't entirely running you out of the city but this "breakup" was enough to finally put the wheels in motion for your friend getting you to come to london with her.

"i'm leaving that's why." you turned and fumbled with your liner. there wasn't enough wine to console the feelings and this situation. after unsuccessfully getting yourself back together, you turned to trent and stared.

"i hate this place. i can't go anywhere, without a reminder of you. i cannot live in a city where I'm going to turn into a bitter ex girlfriend or be mad at a fucking 8 year old whose sporting your kit while I'm just trying to buy milk. i hate it and i'm leaving." you voice rose with each word, allowing yourself to finally yell at the boy. you had so much anger pent up.

“you don’t mean that.” he said lowly.

“i do, trent. so just get your stuff and go.”

“wow, alright. fine.” he stalked off.

you said as calmly as you could before focusing on yourself and your makeup. with wobbly hands you finished but it wasn’t a door slam from trent and tears pearling at your eyes

#trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold x y/n #football x you #football fanfic #football fic #football one shot #football x reader #lettersofgold blurb

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lettersofgold · 5 months

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-> early mornings | jules kounde blurb

note: this a re-uploaded fic from my previous account of the same name.

jules was full of habits and oddities - he would admit this to anyone who would ask. from his daily schedule to his breakfast on a match day. it was always the same. he was overwhelmed with comfort due to these little systems he created. he was young and in love with all that his had work afforded him. he was especially in love with you.

so much so, that when he arrived to your place after a match and it was terribly late in the even (could even argue that it was morning), he wouldn't climb into bed with you. instead he would snuggle up on the couch and wait for you to wake up.

it was a habit now. you would always argue with him about it, saying it would be okay for him to slide into bed. "i'm a heavy sleeper," you would say but he was relentless and you'd stopped pushing. so instead you created a routine that fit seamlessly into his.

him on the couch. you greeting him with a kiss on his forehead mumbling a good morning against his skin. you'd climb on top of him and ignore the the jutting on his hip bones on your thighs (he slept so odd) and waited for him to come to. he would instinctively grab the mug of coffee you placed on the coffee table, taking a few sips and smiling at you over the rim.

"hi amour," jules smiled lazily.

"hi jules" you would always rub the skin right above the hem of his boxers as he talked about the match - telling you about all the little intricacies you didn't understand but were more than delighted to let hear his low and husky morning voice explain. and when it was all said and done, he would position himself so you were straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck just breathing in the scent of him before the long day that awaited you both. he made you feel giddy like a school girl with a crush, not even experiencing butterflies but an endless desire to know every bit of him - the good, the bad, the ugly - wanting to stay like this forever. wrapped up in him with the sun creeping into your living room.

pecking your lips a few more times before pulling away, he looked at you in a way you hadn't been looked at before. his eyes saying a hundred "I love you's" without even trying. the both of you knew what was going to happen next - the next part of the routine, the part of your lives that you blended together happily. taking turns under the water and him massaging shampoo into your hair as you told him about your work day.

"amour,” he would say, “ready to get this day started?"

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