futbolfics

[futbolfics]

hey i have a question! do you also write fics that aren't imagines? so like without the 'you' and 'y/n' ? just a football pairing or a player with an oc ? i only read those kind of fics and i can hardly find any besides ao3 :( also do you happen to know people who take fic (non imagine) requests? have a nice day :)

Yes, I would completely be up to write off of non-imagine prompts! 

[futbolfics]

Stand By You (disclaimer this is NSFW) (Ch 2/2)

You sat there quietly on the couch, re-reading the same lines on the page that discussed managerial accounting. ‘Yeah, fuck you, Cengage Learning,’ you thought while reluctantly slamming your textbook on the coffee table. Trying to comprehend anything, as of now, you deemed to be pointless. You felt a wisp of cool air on the back of your neck, as you whipped around and saw Roman standing in the doorway.

“y/n,” he began hesitantly, as you turned away from his desperate gaze and reached for the book lying disarray on the ground. “I know what you’re probably thinking,” he conceded quietly, his words seeping with guilt. “What kind of asshole puts themselves first over their partner’s happiness?” he admitted through chokes of self-reproach. Roman then knelt on the carpet and reached a hand out to grab your book for you. “I was only angry because it’s in Milan, and I stupidly thought that meant we would have to break up,” he continued as his hickory eyes grew softer, “But I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. For everything-” Before you could surmise a response you felt a familiar pull as Roman engulfed you protectively in his arms. “And you know what?” he whispered coyly in your earlobe, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Really?” you questioned with an air of mock astonishment, “How about you show me just how proud you are then?”

Propping you up with his forearms, you felt the frigid surface of the wallpaper opposed to the radiating heat within your body on your back. With your legs wrapped securely around Roman’s waist, his hands began to hungrily roam your torso, as he methodically lathered passionate kisses up and down the length of your neck. “Have I ever told you how fucking sexy you are?” Roman panted, as he reluctantly pried his mouth from your skin.

“Maybe once or twice,” you lied coyly, engendering Roman to playfully run his teeth along the sensitive skin between your shoulder and neck.

“Really?” he mocked as an incredulous grin etched upon his face. “Then I must be one terrible boyfriend,” the Swiss laughingly surmised as his hands began to fumble with the edge of your nightshirt.  Irritated by the impediment to his advances, Roman eagerly whispered, “Arm’s up,” as he simultaneously pulled off your nightshirt, leaving your chest exposed to him completely. The hickory of his eyes cravingly scrutinized the newly exposed skin, before you felt the heat of his mouth latch onto the top of your chest. You moaned instinctively, as Roman continuously utilized each part of his mouth in a brutal assault on your breasts.

“Fuck,” you rasped through heavy exhales, as you felt your body part from the wall. Roman effortlessly carried the weight of your dead-weight limbs, as he began to usher activities towards the master bedroom. Playfully tossing you onto the quilt, you lied there fugacious stillness as Roman gave your body one last lustful gaze before climbing on top of your frame. The two of you lied there for what seemed liked hours. Pressing his tongue into the fever of your mouth, Roman nimbly disregarded your shorts as you felt his excitement press against the skin of your thigh. You instinctively reached down and toyed with the waistband of his boxers, as his mouth fell open in a silent cry.

“Babe,” he encouraged between sharp inhales, as you carefully gave a couple of hasty tugs onto the Swiss’s hardening length. You glanced back up at his gaze. Roman was gritting his teeth and looking at you like you were the most fantastic girl in the world. Up and down, up and down. You fell into a nice, beating rhythm. “Fuck” he croaked as an air of authoritarianism came over his voice. He despotically gripped onto your wrist to prevent your advances, as you felt his cock lineup in between your hips. But Roman didn't put his cock to your opening. Instead he rubbed the top of his cock higher, making tiny circles until he found the bud, and you arched off the mattress.

“Please” you rasped while Roman continued his vigorous assault against your most sensitive area. “Any more and I think I’ll-” you moaned, as Roman silenced your cries with his mouth. You felt his member hastily thrust up into you as you felt your wall stretch to accommodate his well-sized length. You pinched your eyelids shut hastily, and remembered to breath through the initial penetration. With every dry and desperate gasp, your body began to unwind and welcome his thick cock.

"That's it, baby," he said in a breathy voice. Then, Roman started to gradually move in a slow and sensual, in and out rhythm. It was like he was massaging the inside of you, not just down there, but everywhere. Once again, you promptly closed your eyelids, willingly submitting to Roman’s lead. You heard the sound of skin slapping against skin, and a quiet, animalistic 'unh' sound he was making with each stroke. The smell of sex bloomed up around you both, your heat, and his sweat, and pheromones running wild. "I'm trying to keep it controlled," he croaked huskily, sounding like strain personified. "You deserve gentle."

“Please,” you whispered through patterned exhales into his earlobe, “I need more.” Much like pouring gasoline over an uncontrollable conflagration, your utterance was all it took to set Roman over the edge. He plunged and retreated faster. His breathing sounded even harder, louder, raspier in your ear. Desperate. “Oh god,” you cried out abruptly, as his hips continued to push up into you. You dug your fingernails harder into the flesh of his back, while you succumbed to the the pervasive and euphoric sensation between your hips.

“I’m right there with you babe,” he assured through gritted teeth as he continued his unwavering assault against your hips. Through muffled gasps and fatigue, you felt him come undone as he spilt his hot seed into you, collapsing onto the sheets next to you. “I love you,” he admitted as he bit onto the flesh of his lower lip anxiously.

“And I love you too,” you assured him as you leaned back against his the warmth of his body.

[futbolfics]

HEY GUYS

I was out with walking pneumonia (which totally sucked by the way) but tomorrow I will post part two of the Roman Bürki imagine. Sorry guys!

[futbolfics]

Well the prompt will be something like this. yn is a volunteer in childrens hospital and hips dont like by shakira starts playing and she started dancing not knowing that erik had been watching her. Hope that make sense and thank you 😍

It makes perfect sense! I kind of played around with it a little. (Instead you’re a nurse, not a volunteer) I hope you like it!

[futbolfics]

Tear In My Heart (Erik Durm Imagine) (x)

It’s not that Erik hated visiting children’s hospitals. In fact, out of all the players in Borussia Dortmund, Erik was the last person people expected to protest charity functions or other appointments in that nature. Maybe it was the porcelain walls that confined each depressing hospital room, which seemed to incubate Erik’s somber sentiments. Or maybe it was the fact that those children were deprived of every single ounce of a decent childhood, and Erik was left powerless to help their situation.

“You ready?” Marco inquired, gently nudging Erik’s shoulder as the bus steadily encroached upon the hospital entrance. Erik gave a slight nod in acquiescence, as the rest of the team began to boisterously rise from their seats, chattering happily to each other.

“I just don’t get why they’re so happy,” Erik groaned as Marco stood up from his seat. “They do know that we’re going to a children’s hospital, and the probability of even half of these kids living is pretty slim, right?” he rationalized despite the blonde’s failure to even take out his earbuds. As the team began to meticulously began to file one-by-one out of the bus’s exit, they were enthusiastically greeted by a team of nurses who worked individually with the patients. As you began to brief the men, decked out in yellow and black, of the children’s conditions, you noticed a pair of blue eyes gazing at you attentively.

“Each group of five players,” your boss authoritatively barked at the innocuous players, while pacing back and forth, “Will be supervised by a nurse. So get with your assigned nurse.” Instantly, the assemblage of footballers dispersed at your boss’s order, while you hastily scanned the names on you clip board.

“Marco Reus, Erik Durm, Christian Pulisic, Marc Bartra, and Roman Burki,” you hesitantly called out as the five figures began to part eagerly in your direction. You reluctantly smiled to yourself as you watched the earnest royal-blue eyes stride shyly over to you.

“All here and completely at your service,” the six foot swiss conceded with a cheeky wink, causing your cheeks to flush pink. You tossed your hair over your shoulder confidently, and grinned at your audience as Marco rolled his eyes at the goalie’s suggestive comments.

“Don’t worry about Marco or Roman,” you heard a cheerful voice resonate from behind you, as you led your group into the ward. “Roman’s just a big ole’ teddy bear and Marco is like a big brother to him,” the Pennsylvanian accent stated happily, engendering a chorus of groans. “But Erik and me are pretty accommodating, aren’t we Erik?” he boasted while wrapping an arm around Erik shoulder. Erik’s gaze shyly shifted towards the ground, as he bit onto the flesh of his lip and nodded in approval.  

Upon entering the pediatric cancer ward, you carefully watched, out of the corner of your eye,  Erik’s patterned inhales and exhales become increasingly steady, “I’m sure they’ll love you,” you whispered into Erik’s ear as you brushed past him to swipe into the division. Not even two minutes later, Roman was laughing happily as each of his muscular limbs were being used as a human jungle gym. Marc was effervescently grinning from ear to ear, as he was drawing pictures of princesses with several of the young girls, while Christian and Marco were competitively participating in a fifa tournament with the rest of the patients. Your eyes frantically searched the ward to discern Erik’s location, as you noticed a patient’s room with the door half open. You crept up behind the door surreptitiously, and watched in silence, as Erik sat perched next to Anna’s bed, conversing with her about his different tattoos.

“The cross is very important to me,” he explained. “I’m very religious. And this one,” he continued as Anna beamed up at him, “Is for my mom and dad.”

“I have a mom and dad too!” she interjected with so much enthusiasm, that it emanated into one of her coughing fits. Erik began to worriedly search the room for relief, as you swooped in and rubbed circular patterns on the back of Anna’s hospital gown.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Erik said abruptly, looking between you and Anna, as he exited towards the restroom across the hallway.

“Don’t mind him,” you remarked happily, as you approached her window. “Do you want to listen to some of your favorite music?” you suggested. The four-year-old’s pixie face lit up with boundless excitement at your offering, as you turned on her pink boom-box, and slipped in one of her favorite CDs. “I think this is someone’s favorite song,” you hinted ebulliently as Anna giggled and reached up for you. The two of you waltzed happily, accentuating each rhythmic beat of the instrumental version of “Hip’s Don’t Lie,” by Shakira.

Through the cracked opening of the bathroom door, Erik watched the two of you twirl and laugh jovially, while carefully measuring the sound of his every movement. He didn’t want to spoil this moment. It was too beautiful. Every lighthearted giggle the two of you shared and each measured twist of your body that supported the young girl’s weight, only further incited his desire of wanting to get to know you. Erik savored each second in the three minute song, but at its conclusion he gradually began to emerge from his position, waiting patiently by the room’s entrance.

“You missed a dance party!” Anna cheered out enthusiastically while burying her face into your shoulder triumphantly, causing your skin to burn with self-conscious demure. The blue of Erik’s eyes simperingly toyed with your’s, as he broke into a sincere grin.

“So it seems like I did,” he taunted contentedly, while shyly walking over towards the two of you. “But maybe,” he began while biting onto the flesh of his lower lip apprehensively. “With Y/N’s permission, I can arrange a date between the three of us, and we can have all the dance parties you want,” he concluded while nervously looking between the both of you.

“I think we can somehow arrange that,” you reckoned blithely, giving him a slight wink.

[futbolfics]

Roman imagine!!! 😩😩

Part one is posted, part two (the rated r chapter) will be posted tomorrow! Sorry, work has been taxing.

[futbolfics]

Stand By You (Ch 1/2)  (Roman Bürki imagine) 

“Roman,” you interjected angrily as you pursued him into the livingroom, “You won, you should be happy.” Roman glanced towards your direction condescendingly and dropped his eyes towards the side. “I understand you’re upset about my new job, but that’s not a reason to celebrate with your team,” you rationed, “And I thought you’d be-”

“I am happy,” he interrupted while reaching out for your hand earnestly. “I have never been more proud of you in my life,” he conceded as his teeth pressed up against his lower lip wistfully. “It’s just, that it’s in Milan,” he concluded, after an agonizing pause.

“I know,” you whispered, further entwining your fingers into his grasp. “But all your teammates are going to be wondering where you are,” you lamented, desperately trying to lead him out the door. “Please,” you pleaded, reaching up and pressing your lips against his collar.

“Babe, I am happy,” he assured you, placing his hands protectively on your shoulder blades. “You’re just going to give me some time to process all of this,” he sighed as he sauntered out of the door.

~ Roman’s POV: “Okay, what is up?” Marco interrogated, while grabbing my shoulder and leading me towards the corner of the bus, away from the rest of the young men decked on spiritedly in yellow and black apparel. “We’re supposed to be having fun,” Marco began irritatedly, “And right now, you look as happy as a hurt puppy who’s just been told he’s going to a kill shelter.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, trying to evade the German inquisition in front of me. “It’s just some problems y/n,” I hastily confessed trying to sidestep Marco.

“y/n? What did you do?” Marco questioned incredulously while scratching his head in astonishment.

“Yeah.” I admitted, rolling my eyes at Marco’s initial allegiance towards y/n. “And it wasn’t me that fucked up, but thanks for your assumption,” I added bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” Marco avowed. “You two just seemed to be perfect for each other,” he reckoned. From the opposite side of the bus, Christian took one look at my distressed expression, and waltzed happily towards Marco and me’s direction. Clearly, the eighteen-year-old had more than enough beer for the night.

“What’s up my German friends?” Christian sang while enthusiastically slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Actually, you’re from Switzerland,” the brunette corrected himself through bubbly laughter while Marco choked coyly into his drink.  

“I think you’ve had enough to alcohol for the night,” Marco announced authoritatively, while snatching the beer out of Christian’s grasp. “How about you go talk to Erik?” he suggested while gesturing towards our teammate’s direction. “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”

As the upbeat American practically skipped towards Erik’s direction, Marco raised his eyebrows prompting me to continue with my narrative. “Well, she got this new job she’s been wanting,” I said through gritted teeth, as Marco and I waved towards the fans that had swamped the bus. “And I’m really proud of her and everything,” I added, “It’s just- it’s in fucking Milan.”

“Oh,” Marco conceded through a sharp inhale, while pursing his lips together. “I mean, you could always try a long distance relationship, right?” he offered.

“Yeah, because those have been notorious for working out,” I sarcastically retorted while beaming ebulliently towards the overwhelming congregation of black and yellow figures underneath our position.

“Well, does she have to take it?” the blonde inquired further, while vivaciously toying with a lemon streamer that had fallen in our direction.

“Yeah, kind of,” I speculated, half annoyed at Marco’s perpetuate naivety. My girlfriend, unlike the majority of my teammate’s partners, wasn’t some gaudy model that could effortlessly abdicate a job offering. “It’s only one of the biggest accounting firms in all of Italy,” I added.

 “Dude, no offense, but you seem like a total prick right now,” an elated voice chimed in, causing both Marco and me to whip around. While taking an over-portioned sip of his beer, Christian rationed, “Your girl just got the career of a lifetime, and all you’ve done is thrown yourself one giant pity-party.” Me and Marco exchanged looks of astonishment as the young boy, who previously would never even dare to censure any of our opinions, continued his scathing assessment of my actions. “If you two truly love each other, you’d find a way to work things out,” he concluded adamantly through the piercing clamor that engulfed our bus.

“Yeah- but,” I resumed, but was instantly cut off my the young boy’s voice.

“Yeah but, is just another set of words for people use for excuses. If she really means that much to you, you’ll find a way to make it work,” Christian shouted merrily.

I glanced towards Marco, who was visibly transfixed by the American’s abrupt words. I bit onto the flesh of my bottom lip, and shook my head in astonishment. He was right. “Have a great party boys!” I called out hastily, as I began to wield and dodge my way through the throngs of masses. She meant the world to me, and tonight, I was going to show her just that.

[futbolfics]

Moiety second part was great! Your writing is fantastic!! Can't wait to read more in the future!

Thanks! Writing has always been a huge passion of mine, and I’m really happy you enjoy it. Let me know if I can do anything for you! 

[futbolfics]

Your mats Hummels imagine is amazing ! I really liked it keep going girl 👍🏾

Thank you so much! To be honest, you have no idea how much this means to me.

[futbolfics]

Having read your newest work. I have to ask, I'm curious as to how the relationship in Moiety came to be? thank you

Mats was a regular at the old tavern you used to work at in Dortmund. Every single Tuesday, he’d resign patiently at table thirty-one, sometimes accompanied by guests, but on the majority of occasions it would be just you and him. Unbeknownst to you, he had slipped the hostess a healthy stipend to ensure that you were always working the section he was sitting in. ( I mean, he didn’t want to make it look like that he was constantly changing sections in order to receive your service. He’s too guarded for that) Eventually, cordial small talk developed into deep conversations, and Mats had become accustomed to your company.

[futbolfics]

When Will be ready the Roman imagine ?

Probably by this weekend. Maybe Saturday if I’m lucky, but definitely by this Sunday.

[futbolfics]

Can I just tell you that I loved your writing and that Mats hummels one with the side chick deserves a second half because it was great!! Keep up the great writing!

Thank you so much! It’s posted if you wanna read it! 

[futbolfics]

oh my god please do a part 2 of Moiety!!!!

done!

[futbolfics]

Please Do a part two of Moiety! I beg

done!

[futbolfics]

Moiety (Mats Hummels Imagine) Ch. 2 Repercussions

Disclaimer: This chapter is R-Rated for those who are uncomfortable please do not read. However, part one can be found here. 

You gazed up at the digital clock and glanced back down at your phone anxiously, reading the words Mats had sent to you over an hour ago. ‘I’ll be over by eleven, we need to talk about some things.’ You bit your lip in nervous anticipation as the door handle began to turn clockwise. “Hey you,” he interjected while dropping his keys carelessly on the coffee table and peeling off his black hugo boss overcoat. “Did you record Modern Family for us?” he asked earnestly, as his brown-eyed gaze locked onto yours.

“Yeah, it’s right on the DVR,” you conceded, while hastily looking for the television remote underneath the navy couch cushions. Two seconds later you felt a sinewy frame that you had grown accustomed to, press up against your waist from behind you.

“Looking for this?” he mused with a smirk etched upon his face, as he placed the remote on the palm of your outstretched hand. As the two of you sat side-by-side on the upholstery, you felt an arm gradually begin to outstretch, and engulf your lissome frame into Mats’s warmth. You sighed heavily, resting your head upon the edge of Mats’s shoulder, as you let your body rhythmically rise and fall with each inhale and subsequent exhale he took. As the episode concluded you felt his eyes watch you in annoyance.       

“Are we going to talk about what the fuck you were doing with that bartender I specifically warned you against talking to?” he inquired angrily, still maintaining his position with his arm wrapped protectively against your shoulder blade.

“You mean, Andrew?” you questioned indifferently causing Mats to abruptly stand up in front of the television.

“I could give less of a fuck about his name,” Mats spat while reaching over and turning off Modern Family. “I told you to keep your distance, and what did you do?” he questioned irritatedly. “You fucking continued to talk to him like it was your job,” he concluded crossly.

“He’s a co-worker, Mats,” you retorted, while standing up to rival his muscular stature. “I don’t know what you expect me to do? Would you have rather I not talk to him the entire night?” you inquired with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mats adamantly argued. “Or maybe- I don’t know-” he began cruelly, “keep your interactions with him to a minimum instead of being all over him.”

“This is so rich coming from you,” you interrupted, as sentiments of astringent jealousy began to seep through your skin pores. “You’re the one who goes home to a wife every night,” you indignantly reminded him, “and now you’re expecting me to practice restraint when talking to other men.”

“Yeah, well if I’m remembering correctly, I pointedly told you he had a bad reputation,” he retorted while stepping closer to you, causing your skin to absorb his hot breath. “So I don’t think it was a matter of me being jealous,” he boasted arrogantly placing a hand firmly on your shoulder blade, “I think it was more of a fucking safety matter,” he scoffed while rolling his eyes.

Instinctively you swapped at his hand, engendering him to back off. “I’m a big girl, Mats,” you confidently rationed, attempting to drown any aspect of guilt from your intonation. “I can handle myself,” you unwaveringly asserted, while turning your back to him, and promptly walking towards you bedroom, knowing that Mats was trailing your every footstep.

“Yeah, you sure fucking proved that tonight,” he spat angrily, as you reluctantly felt the corner of your eyes become increasingly soaked with salty water. You gazed up at with teary-eyed frustration, as his hickory eyes began to reflect something different than impassioned rage- guilt. “Babe,” he began quietly, sitting down on the bed next to you, “I just wish you cared about yourself and your safety as much as I do,” he surmised sincerely while placing a hand firmly on the warmth of your thigh.

“Please, all you give a shit about is whether or not I’m available for a quick fuck,” you pushed back, while smacking his hand, yet again, off of your thigh. “And you proved that tonight,” you croaked, shaking your head in resentment. “Now me and- I’m sorry what’s your name?” you mimicked, adding emphasis on the words ‘what’s your name.’

“It was wrong of me to say that,” Mats admitted while trying to apologetically grasp the palm of your hand. “But you know, what’s between me and you is a lot more than fucking,” he urged as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. Before you could manage a response, you felt a slight pull of you arm, which ushered you to the bed next to him, as his hand moved to your waist. “I love our movie nights,” he whispered into your ear, while planting a delicate bite on the nape of your neck. “I love the way you wake me up in the morning,” he added while moving his head to work on the opposite portion of your neck. “And I love how happy you make me and everyone else around you,” he concluded as you felt the flesh of his lips press up against yours possessively. His hand supported your neck, while his tongue aggressively assaulted every corner of your mouth.

“Mats,” you began, trying helplessly to articulate each syllable of your words through the compulsion of wanting to fervently moan. With one swoop of his arm, he had you stationed dependently underneath the weight of his six foot stature, as he continued to trail kisses and bites down the length of your neck. He hastily peeled off your shirt and began focusing his attention onto the width of your chest. His fingers methodically kneaded and rubbed every nerve ending of your body, as his lips occasionally nipped at your sensitive skin. Mats hastily pulled his top off causing you to dig the edges of your fingernails deeper into the flesh on his back. He reached behind you and unclasped your bralette with one hand, as a coy smirk etched upon his face. “Smartass,” you mumbled through his kiss, engendering him to cough out laughter and playfully run the edge of his teeth against your neck. You felt Mats’s groin press up against yours, as he triumphantly claimed your mouth in yet another hot bruising assault, while his hands eagerly tugged away at your pants.

“Ficken” Mats groaned in German, as you felt his member press up against your entrance. He plunged deeply into you, as you felt him familiarly stretch you out. Despite the fact that Mats was the only person you had ever truly had sex with, his skills at fucking marginalized any preconceived fantasies you had once dared to imagine. As the quick movements of his hips formed a rhythmic imbrication with your body, you felt recognizable sensation of euphoria resonate from your pelvic area.

“Mats,” you stammered as he continued his assault against your G-spot, pushing you to the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm. Right before you could reach that feeling of ineffable bliss, Mats withdrew out of your tight glove of heat, ignoring your desperate pleas for more.

“You know what this is for, right?” he cautioned before placing sloppy kisses down the side of your neck. To your relief, he then reinserted his member and sped up his thrusts, as you clamped your legs around his waist, urging him to bring you back to a euphoric climax. Your entire body was throbbing for a release as Mats, yet again, pulled out from what should have been your orgasm.

“Please,” you begged fervently, as Mats continued to lather your body with harsh kisses that consisted primarily of teeth. “Mats,” you practically whined, as you dug your fingernails harder into his back causing him to elicit a satisfactory groan.

“You’re doing so well babe,” Mats encouraged through sharp breaths. “But tonight’s behavior was an indication of your constant defiance,” he admonished coyly, before re-entering your body and thrusting his hips at a painfully slow pace.

“Mats,” you stammered while forcibly pushing your eyelids shut, as his pace elevated. “Please no, not a third time,” you pleaded, while your head leaned back towards the pillow.

“I won’t, I promise,” Mats whispered as you felt his hips continue to snap, causing you to outcry a litany of moans and to see visions of stars. Your walls went taut, causing the older man to come undone. “All fucking mine,” he growled into your ear, as you felt his warm release spill into you. Mats withdrew from you almost instantly and collapsed on the grey sheets next to you, tired and sweaty, he engulfed you protectively into his arms. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Mats questioned attentively, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You shook your head, and croaked a “Not really,” in response. Your limbs were about as stable as jelly, but somehow you mustered the strength to reach up and gradually kiss Mats.

“I love you y/n,” Mats whispered down to you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you too,” you whispered his neck, as you nestled your tired limbs into his embrace.

[futbolfics]

I LOVE YOUR ICON IM LAUGHING SO HARD

GRACIAS! I’m not even a Real fan, but I love Marcelo so much, I needed it to be there. 

[futbolfics]

Hi! Can I request a dating would include with Marc Bartra please? Thanks! X

Done!