#borussia dortmund x reader

[pavardscherie]

Jude’s love language??

i do like to think that with jude it’s also a little mixture. but this time between quality time and physical touch.

just imagine, how busy that man must be. he‘s always playing, always giving interviews and probably one of the most popular players on the entire time. if you see anything dortmund related, jude has to be around to represent the club as well.

so when he has a couple of hours or maybe even a day off, he will use any chance to spend time with you. even if it‘s just the chance to watch an episode of your favourite series, or to invite you on a coffee date in one of those sweet, hidden coffee shops which allowed you a little bit of privacy together.

days off are planned with you, without a doubt. he should be sprawled out on the couch and relax his exhausted muscles but instead, he‘s preparing something very sweet for you. like a home made dinner, or even picks you up from work or university to make sure, he has enough time with you before having to go back to his busy schedule again.

which also happens to be a reason for him to invite you to any game. make sure, you can travel to another town safely, mostly with him. after the game, you‘re the first person he goes to. just asking if he did good because your opinion matters the most to him.

so, any free minutes belongs to you.

also, physical touch. jude's addicted to your smile, and the way your cheeks are blemished by a soft cherry red when his lips place a lingering kiss on your jaw or your shoulder. little pecks all around your body. sometimes underneath the ear, some days just casually on the tip of your nose. jude always found a different place on your skin, his soft, pillow-like lips haven't came in contact yet.

he's such a hugger? he loves to have his arm around your waist, draped over your shoulder when a little alcohol infiltrated his system and made the situation much comfortable than the up-tight interview on the panel. fingertips always caressed over your skin, brushing your hair off your shoulder, drawing along your jaw, pulling your bottom lip away from the gnawing of your teeth because it would drive him insane.

with jude, it's truly the little things that matter the very most. small kisses, a slight touch on your bare back when the dress has a nice cutout, standing behind you to protect you from any incoming damage, placing a chaste kiss on the crown of your hair and whispering sweet little nothings..

[miroslavcloset]

Hiiii, if youre taking requests can you please do headcannons for dating Leon Goretzka or Julian Brandt? 🌸🫶 Loved the mats' one btw

Dating Julian Brandt -Headcanons- [Non-NSFW and NSFW]

A/N: Ofc love <3 I love writing for other teams, I mean we all know I'm Bayern's Thomas' whore, but writing for other teams I like has a certain something I crave. Btw here you can read the Leon ones <3 (I'm considering doing a part two, maybe) I'm glad you liked the Mats' ones!!

He can be very possessive with you, hugging you and resting his chin on your shoulders when hanging out with friends so everyone knows you're his and he is yours.

One of the things he has on his pending list is to introduce you to his family in Bremen. Even though he would never admit it, he considers you part of his family already.

You bring him special comfort, Julian loves how you stand by him and keep him close no matter what, so in return, he prefers having you nearby all the time.

He would be the first one to think about moving together, and another thing he wouldn't admit is how he loves the idea of the domestic routine by your side, cooking for you, sharing mornings in bed, and even sometimes showering together.

You know him better than anyone, and when things aren't going well for him, you can notice the change in his mood. He can be an introvert in that sense, after any bad game he doesn't kick things or shows his anger or sadness, he just wants peace and to be left alone, he'd rather handle it on his own. You earned his trust so he now lets you in, he would be open with his partner, the only person he would lean on.

He is not the best with words when it comes to expressing his feelings for you, and even if he was he would be too ashamed to tell you how much he loves you, so instead he tries to express it in the best way he can, giving you comfort and stability around him, holding your hand and hugging you any time he can.

He absolutely loves cuddling, may it be on the sofa, on his bed, or anywhere you two can be alone, he sees it as closeness, even more than other physical contact. Also, if you had a tiring day, he will be more than glad to be the big spoon while cuddling so he can caress you and relax with him.

What made him fall in love with you was your kindness and the willingness to show yourself to him exactly as you are, he knows that's no easy task, so after seeing your frail side, he decided he just couldn't let you go.

NSFW-ish headcanons and disclaimer under the cut

He prefers physical touch more than anything else, so your moments together in bed are very special to him. The sensual caresses never fail to turn him on, and he loves giving you massages, knowing exactly where to touch you to get things into the right mood.

Loves to take his time with you in foreplay. Will undress you himself and let you relax in his touches, it's ok whether you want to let the lights on or off, he won't push you on that.

One of his weaknesses is if you kiss his neck, he won't be able to keep his hands to himself, touching you to let you know how much he likes the licks and small bites in that area.

He prefers starting by giving you gentle touches, finding by himself the spots that will make you moan, even using his tongue from your neck to your chest, licking all the way down between your legs.

[dorabellingham]

Bother you

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader x jobe

summary: when his younger brother keeps teasing you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a warm summer afternoon in Birmingham, and the Bellingham house was full of life. The sound of hurried footsteps upstairs, doors opening and closing, laughter coming from the kitchen, and Jobe's deep voice echoing through the house as he tried to tease his brother.

You were in the living room, scrolling through your phone, waiting for Jude to finish getting ready. You were wearing a light denim skirt, a white top, and a dark jacket. Your hair was down and slightly wavy at the ends. You always took special care to dress up when you went out with Jude. Not that he demanded it, but because you liked to feel beautiful around him, and you knew he loved it when you dressed up. Your relationship, although still young, was already strong enough for you to feel safe. You understood each other in a unique way, even in the small provocations that arose between you.

Suddenly, Jobe appeared coming down the stairs with that mischievous smile of his always. He had a soccer ball in his hands, tossing it from one hand to the other. At 15, Jobe had already shown that he had the same passion for soccer as Jude. And, just like his older brother, he loved to play and tease. When he saw his sister-in-law on the couch, his eyes lit up with amusement.

—Hey, Y/n! —He shouted, throwing the ball up and catching it again. —Did you know that Jude takes longer to get ready than you do?

You laughed, shaking your head.

—I know. He’s been upstairs for an hour already.

You replied, crossing your legs and leaning forward, as if you were expecting more jokes.

Jobe came closer, sitting in the chair in front of you, his eyes bright and full of energy.

—He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s because he’s trying to impress you, you know? —He continued, with a mischievous laugh. —He keeps picking out the right clothes, trying to fix his hair... and in the end, he just wears what he always wears!

—Don't tell him, but I think it's really cute.

You confessed, winking at the youngest.

—Of course you do! — Jobe joked, putting the ball on the floor and leaning back in the chair. —But you know... Jude has always been the type who wants to impress everyone. Only now, it's you who he wants to impress the most.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. It was true that Jude always tried to look perfect when he was with you. Not that it was something exaggerated or that bothered you. In fact, it was adorable. You knew he wanted everything to be special between you two, and that made you feel even closer to him.

—What about you? —You asked, leaning towards Jobe. —Will you be the same when you have a girlfriend?

The youngest Bellingham rolled his eyes with an exaggerated grimace.

—Me? No! I'm much calmer than Jude. He's the one who's all proper. —He said, standing up and starting to dribble the ball around the room. —But seriously, Y/n, you need to be tough on him. If he takes much longer, you'll only be going out tomorrow!

You were about to answer when you heard Jude's footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked up and saw him coming down the steps with a focused expression. He was wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a black jacket, and he ran his hand through his hair to make sure everything was in place.

—Finally, Jude! —Jobe teased, holding the ball under his arm. —Y/n was already thinking she was going to have to go out with me!

—Shut up, Jobe! — He replied with a smile, but there was a touch of nervousness in his voice. He looked at you, and his smile widened. —You look beautiful.

You stood up, approaching him and pulling him by the hand.

—You look very handsome too. Ready to go out?

He asked, trying to hide his laughter.

—I’m always ready when it’s with you. He said, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

Before you could walk out the door, Jobe got in the way, holding the ball in front of his body as if it were a shield.

—Hey, wait a minute! —He exclaimed, laughing. —Jude, you’re not going to leave me here alone with mom, are you?

Jude sighed, shaking his head.

—Jobe, I’m just going to go out with Y/n. You can survive, man.

Jobe made a dramatic expression of pain, as if the idea of ​​staying home was the end of the world.

—But you’re always with your girlfriend! And I’m your brother, remember? —He protested, trying to keep a serious expression, but he couldn’t hide his smile. —Besides, you know I’m way more fun than you.

The older boy rolled his eyes.

—Oh, sure. How could I forget?

You laughed at the interaction between the brothers. You knew Jobe adored Jude, and the constant teasing was just his way of showing it. But you also knew that Jude was eager to spend some alone time with you.

—Jobe, you know you’re the fun of the family —You said, winking at him. —But I promise I’ll give you all the boring Jude back later.

Jobe laughed.

—Okay, okay. Just don’t forget I exist, okay?

He said, making room for the two of you to pass.

As you walked out, you could hear Jobe yelling behind you:

—And, man, try not to drool too much on Y/n, okay?

Jude shook his head, laughing, and you squeezed his hand as they walked away from the house.

—He really knows how to tease you.

You commented, glancing at your boyfriend.

—Jobe is a teasing machine, but he’s my brother. It’s part of the package...— Jude said, smiling at you. —Besides, I’m sorry I took so long, babe.

You stopped walking for a moment and turned to him, holding both of his hands.

—Jude, you always look good to me. You know that, right?

He looked at you with those sincere eyes that you loved so much. There was something vulnerable about him, a quality that made him real. He might be the most popular boy in school, the future big football star, but with you, he was always just Jude Victor. The boy who wanted to impress you, but who didn't have to try so hard because you already adored him just the way he was.

—I just want everything to be special for us, Y/n.

He said softly.

You smiled, feeling your heart melt a little more. You pulled him closer and gave him a soft kiss.

—It's already special, love. Just by being you.

[leclercsainzz]

could you please do a jude bellingham where him and reader claim to be friends but eveyone assumes they’re together??? like they leave flirty comments on each other or stuff like that??

JUST FRIENDS, OR?

PAIRINGS: jude bellingham x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

yourusername

liked by judebellingham, gioareyna and 585,947 others

yourusername: if you like this, then you like me 😉

view 6,846 comments

judebellingham: let me unlike this real quick

↳ yourusername: boy, yk damn well you like me 😌

↳ judebellingham: i mean, i guess

↳ yourusername: do you like me, like me? or just like me?

↳ judebellingham: 🤫

↳ user: are they flirting or???

↳ user: for two ppl who claim to be “friends” this sure don’t look like “just friends”

user: i swear, it’s so hard to decipher whether they’re flirting or just playing around … like?!?!??

user: how do i like this multiple times??!????!? 😩😩

gioareyna: damn okay, let me unlike this

↳ user: LMAO, PLEASE 😭

user: soooo are you and jude together or?????

user: my fingers hurt from double clicking too much

user: you’re so beautiful, i swear 😍😍😍😍

jobebellingham: when you say, “like” do you mean actually like? like like? or? because i know a little thing or two

↳ user: jOBE! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!!?? LET US IN ON THE SECRET, PLEASE, IM BEGGING!! 🙏🏼

↳ jobebellingham: as jose mourinho once said, “i prefer not to speak … if i speak, i am in big trouble”

comment has been deleted

user: HELP, diD jOBE DELETE HIS COMMENT?!!? 💀 iT’S NOT THERE ANYMORE WTF?!??

user: stunnin’ 😍

user: can i stop liking this post now?

user: girl are you and jude dating?!???? i need to know

user: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user: ugh, she’s soo pretty wtf 😫

user: YN!!! where’d you get that sweatshirt?!!??

emmachamberlain: pretty girl 😍

judebellingham

liked by yourusername, fedevalverde and 784,930 others

judebellingham: a place like no other .. mi casa! 🤍 #halamadrid

tagged: @realmadrid

view 9,937 comments

realmadrid: 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

user: let him cook!!!

adidaslondon: from birmingham to the bernabéu 💫

user: our starboy 🤩

vinijr: hey, judeeeee

yourusername: you’re that guy, huh?

yourusername: that’s my #5 🔥

↳ user: notice how she said “my” and not “our” 👀

↳ judebellingham: #5 on the field but #1 in your heart 😉 @yourusername

↳ user: “just friends” they say

user: unbelievable player! 👏🏼

user: ya’ll see yn’s comment?!!? she said, “MY”

↳ user: i’m telling you, these two are dating

england: 🤩

user: what a guy!! 🔥

user: @yourusername this yo man?

user: my man is currently thriving rn

user: cr7 would be proud

↳ user: missing my goat 😓

user: jude > that one barca dude (i said what i said)

↳ user: “said what i said” who mf?!!??

↳ user: i know who you’re referring to, i agree 🫣

jobebellingham: 🤩🤍

erling.haaland: hi cutie

user: #halamadrid 🤍🤍🤍

user: madrid > barca

↳ user: you mean barca > madrid

judebellingham

📍mykonos, greece

liked by trentarnold66, yourusername and 710,104 others

judebellingham: what a place 🇬🇷

view 7,831 comments

jobebellingham: wow, you’re cool

↳ yourusername: or so he thinks …

yourusername: hey judeeee 🤭

↳ judebellingham: hey pretty girl 👋🏾

↳ user: uMmmm??!?!?

↳ user: “just friends” my ass

user: welcome to madrid 🤍

user: finest player ever, i swear 😍

user: does anyone know if he’s alone on the trip or??

↳ user: why do you care???

user: I WAS JUST IN MYKONOS LAST WEEK 😭😭

user: this mf calling yn “pretty girl” was my last straw 😩

gioareyna: i miss u, cutie 😘

↳ judebellingham: i miss you too 😘

user: harry kane >>>> jude

↳ user: thIs must be a joke, wtf 😭😭

↳ user: did jude miss a penalty shot?!? i don’t think so! harry kane >> jude 🤩 CASE CLOSED! (yes, it’s a joke)

user: jude, the kids miss you, come back home

↳ user: me being delusional like 💀

trentarnold66: 🤩🤩🤩

user: live, laugh, love jude ❤️

user: sirrrr 😍😍

user: dude just stole my girl’s attention from me

↳ user: does your gf happened to be yn?!?

↳ user: nah, i wish tbh 😩

user: he’s so damn fine 😮‍💨

user: i told my mom about us

↳ user: ya’ll delusional, damn 🤣

user: is yn with you or???

user: he wants me 🤭

↳ user: yn, is that you?

yourusername

📍oía, santorini, greece

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 601,101 others

yourusername: a lil vacay photo dump:) 😜

view 5,837 comments

user: jUde’s in greece??!? yn’s in greece?!?? does this mean?!?? they’re in greece together or???!?

gioareyna: 👀 oooohhh

↳ user: oohh?? wdym ohhh??

user: they posted different locations but im pretty sure they’re together!! jude posted a pic in a boat?? now yn?

judebellingham: hey ynnnn 👋🏾

↳ yourusername: heyyy bestie!!!

user: they HAVE to be together

judebellingham: are you following me? 🤔

↳ yourusername: pretty sure, you’re the one following me?

↳ judebellingham: mom did tell me to follow my dreams so;)

↳ yourusername: ooohh is that so??

↳ judebellingham: absolutely, pretty girl 😙

user: ^ iS he flirting ?????

user: don’t flirt with your “friend” challenge: level impossible

user: he can try to be a little less obvious

↳ user: who?

↳ user: jude lmao

user: pretty girl 😍😍😍

user: one chance is all im asking for, yn!!!!!

user: beauty!

jobebellingham: what takes you to greece, young lady?

↳ yourusername: simply lost in the blue and white charm of the greek islands 😌

↳ jobebellingham: and jude???

comment has been deleted

sasha__rebecca: hi, you’re hot! 😍

sasha__rebecca: that’s my girlfriend, ya’ll 😩

↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘

↳ jackgrealish: excuse me???

↳ yourusername: you’re excused, grealo

↳ sasha__rebecca: sorry, jack! my heart belongs to yn

yourusername

liked by sasha__rebecca, masonmount and 585,937 others

yourusername: 🤎🤎🤎

view 5,027 comments

user: how can someone be so pretty?!?? 😩

judebellingham: yo bro who got you smiling like that? 🤔

↳ yourusername: not you that’s for sure(:

↳ judebellingham: and here i thought i was the reason behind that beautiful smile but oh well 🤷🏽‍♂️ …..

↳ user: um????!??? hello??? does anyone else see this??

user: can we all talk about jude’s comment???!???

↳ user: im CONVINCED these two are together

user: i just know jude took these pic

user: gorggg 😍😍😍😍

user: your smile is everything 😩

user: “just friends” they say

user: nah frrr, who got you smiling like that??!?

user: jude, i get it, she’s gorgeous! i’d be obsessed too 😌

user: juDe’s COMMENT AKAKALDNFNXL

user: i pray they’re together ✨✨✨✨🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

erling.haaland: coffee 👍🏼

↳ yourusername: oh, hey there

↳ user: why is he so random??? 😭😭💀

mikkykiemeney: 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: were you and jude in greece together?

user: idc if she’s not a wag but she’s my fav wag 😌

user: her smile broooo 😩😩😩😩😩

user: jude’s real lucky, huh?

sasha__rebecca: let me take you out for dinner 😉

↳ yourusername: anything for you, my love 😘

user: she fine asff 😗

jobebellingham: 🤩

↳ user: watch out for jude 🤣 that’s his girl

user: jude, huh? 😏

judebellingham

📍south of france

liked by gioareyna, yourusername and 701,016 others

judebellingham: recharging with my bro! 🇫🇷🫶🏽

tagged: @jobebellingham

view 7,937 comments

user: you’re telling me that last post is you and jobe?? 🤔

↳ user: LMAOO FRRR 💀

↳ user: i guess yn is “bro” now

↳ user: like bffr, mate 🙄

johnstonesofficial: nice you!

yourusername: cute!

yourusername: bro 😊

↳ user: 😏😏😏😏

↳ user: just say ya’ll dating

yourusername: my fav!!!

↳ judebellingham: 💁🏽‍♂️ i know i am

↳ yourusername: sorry??? i was talking about jobe??

↳ jobebellingham: so inconsiderate, damn 🙄

↳ yourusername: tell me about it

↳ judebellingham: 🙄🙄 i hate you guys

↳ yourusername: we love you tooooo 😘😘

↳ jobebellingham: speak for yourself, yn

gioareyna: good people 🙌🏼

user: jobe is starting to look like jude, i swear

user: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

user: we all agree that’s yn in the last post right?

user: don’t you mean recharging with bro AND girl?

user: they look like twins in that second post

user: my boyfriend and brother in law 😩

user: bellingoal 🤩

user: the genes are STRONG STRONG

user: my favorite brothers ❤️❤️

user: mom and dad bellingham really said, “copy and paste”

judebellingham

liked by trentarnold66, erling.haaland and 711,034 others 

judebellingham: she’s not so bad 🤷🏽‍♂️

tagged: @yourusername

view 6,857 comments

user: FINALLY OMG WOANSKSLX

user: i had a feeling they were together but i was NOT prepared for the hard launch, wtf alssnsodbf

↳ user: you and me both, sister

jobebellingham: about damn time! 👏🏽

gioreyna: it’s official now, i gotta share the loml 😟

↳ judebellingham: sharing is caring after all 😉

↳ yourusername: um????

yourusername: you’re not so bad yourself, mate

yourusername: ❤️❤️

user: i was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS

user: uhhh, hello?????

user: am i dreaming or??????!!?!

user: I MANIFESTED THIS SHIT, IDCCCC

user: so this confirms they’ve been together for a while, right?

trentarnold66: have i been replaced, now that it’s official?

↳ judebellingham: never that

erling.haaland: i feel a bit heartbroken 💔

↳ judebellingham: just to clarify, you left first 🙁

↳ gioareyna: and then there was one left ….

↳ user: well damn 😟 thanks for reminding me 😭😭😭😭

user: my favs, omg!!!!

user: scREAMING ALSLAPDNFjelal

user: ngl i’m a bit heartbroken, but also happy for them

user: we’ve officially lost him, girlies 😩😩😩

user: i’m 💔💔😭😭 but also 🙌🏼🤩😏😉🤩🤩

yourusername

liked sophiaamelia, erling.haaland and 647,750 others

yourusername: i guess the secrets out, huh? 😝❤️

tagged: @judebellingham

view 5,047 comments

user: the first pic literally confirms they were together in greece!! bapsjdndkdjorgbpsndl

user: yn, babe, the secrets been out for ages 🙄 bffr

↳ yourusername: were we THAT obvious?

↳ user: yes, girl 😭😭😭 ya’ll weren’t the best at hiding it tbh

gioareyna: ahhh my man 😍😍😍

↳ yourusername: my*

↳ gioareyna: he was MINE first tho

user: the real madrid jersey 😩😩

judebellingham: 😘😘

judebellingham: i love you, pretty girl ❤️❤️

↳ user: cRying 😭😭😭😭

jobebellingham: 🙌🏽🤩

user: you’re cheating on me, huh??? 😒😒😒

user: “secrets out” as if nobody knew 💀

↳ user: nahh frrr 🤣

user: screaming and crying 💔💔😭 yn, you broke my heart

user: FINALLY!!!!!!! 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

trentarnold66: this cute or whatever 🙄 preferably the latter

↳ user: please, trent 😂😂😂

user: they cute!! 🥰

user: favs

user: I CALLED IT, OMG!!! 😏

user: it was about time, girl!!!

[n0vazsq]

Every glance | Jamal Musiala x Reader

pairing . . . jamal musiala x dortmund!academy!player!reader

summary . . . Ever since you met each other, you and Jamal become rivals. It was bound to be; Dortmund's golden girl and Bayern's star boy. But as the weeks pass, you rivalry blurs into something more, the tension increasing more than ever. And before you knew it, you two were confessing to each other in the bleachers

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 4.7k+

warnings . . . shit ton of tension, slowburn and rivalry but romance too!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . didnt proof read this but who cares!!!!! i hope this mad sense bc ilike idk i wasnt entirely paying attention when writing this. I HOPE YOU LIKE I EVE!!!!! as you can asee i YAPPED. my longest fic ever omg anyhow yeah the smau grind will be here soon!!

. . . The annual interschool sports tournament wasn’t just a competition; it was a battlefield. A week long war of football, academics, and extracurriculars that tested every student’s strength.

For your high school, it meant putting their trust in you, their star midfielder. Your name was associated with victory; the pride of your school, the one who never cracked under pressure, Dortmund Academy's golden girl.

This year, though, was different. Bayern Academy, Dortmund’s biggest rival, had brought their star boy, Jamal Musiala, into the pitch.

Jamal Musiala, the name everyone seemed to drool about. He wasn’t just good; he was annoyingly perfect. Flawless footwork, an effortless smile, and that annoyingly calm composure.

It was as if the universe had handcrafted him to be your nemesis. You’d only seen clips of him online, but even through a screen, he made your nerves crawl. Now he was here, in the flesh, and he was already stealing the spotlight.

The opening ceremony was full with energy as schools from all over the country gathered in the massive sports complex. You stood with your team, donning Dortmund’s signature yellow and black, as the Bayern squad entered.

They moved as a unit, their red jackets gleaming under the lights. At the center of their group was Jamal, his gaze scanning the room like he owned it.

And then, as if the universe demanded it, his eyes locked on yours.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, the kind that made your blood boil.

"Is that Musiala?" Ida, your teammate, whispered beside you.

"Yeah," you muttered, forcing yourself to look away before your irritation became too obvious. "Doesn’t look like much."

"He’s supposed to be amazing," she said, clearly impressed.

"We’ll see about that," you replied, though your words felt more like a promise to yourself.

The first day of matches solidified what you’d feared; Jamal was as good as everyone said. Bayern’s game was a masterclass, and he was its centerpiece.

Every touch of the ball exuded cheers, every pass seemed calculated, and his goa, a curling shot from outside the box, was met with loud applause. You hated how your chest tightened watching him, not with admiration but with the burning desire to prove you could do better.

When it was your team’s turn to play, you poured every ounce of frustration into the game. You commanded the midfield, intercepting passes and setting up plays with precision.

When you scored, a long range strike that shook the net, you allowed yourself a flicker of satisfaction, knowing Jamal was watching from the sidelines.

But as the match ended, you glanced toward Bayern’s bench. Jamal’s eyes were on you, and when he caught you looking, he gave a slow, deliberate clap. It wasn’t the sarcastic kind, it was worse. Genuine. The kind that almost felt like a challenge.

Later that evening, during a skills challenge, your rivalry came to life.

Players from all schools were testing their dribbling, shooting, and agility. You signed up without hesitation, eager to show your worth. As you approached the dribbling course, you caught sight of Jamal standing nearby, arms crossed and smirking.

"Good luck," he said, his voice smooth and maddeningly calm.

"I don’t need it," you shot back. "Watch and learn."

You tackled the course with striking precision, weaving through cones and finishing with a shot that hit the top corner of the net. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears as you walked off, head held high.

But Jamal was next, and his performance was… flawless. Effortless. Annoying. When he broke your time record, he walked past you, grinning.

"Anything you can do, I can do better," he said.

"Keep dreaming," you snapped, glaring at him.

From that moment, the rivalry consumed you. Every match, every skill test, every interaction became a battle. You pushed yourself harder, determined to outshine him, and he matched you step for step.

The sight of him alone was enough to ruin your day. He didn’t even have to say anything; his presence carried this unbearable arrogance, like he owned the air you breathed.

Every time he walked into a room, that stupid smirk of his plastered across his face, you could feel your patience thinning. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he went out of his way to find you, just so he could look at you like you were beneath him.

It wasn’t just the way he spoke, all smug and self assured, but the way he looked at you; like you were a puzzle he’d already solved and thrown away. The kind of look that made your skin crawl and your hands clench into fists.

You didn’t need his pity, his judgment, or whatever game he thought he was playing. He was your rival, nothing more. And yet, there was something about him, about the way he lingered just long enough to get under your skin, that made it impossible to ignore him.

There was a storm in every conversation you had with him, a brewing tornado in every exchange of words. No matter how civil you tried to be, it always ended with raised voices and sharp stares, each of you unwilling to back down.

If you called him insufferable, he called you predictable. If you accused him of being self absorbed, he’d laugh and say you were obsessed with him. It was infuriating. It was exhausting. And yet, some part of you almost welcomed it, the way sparring with him made you feel so alive.

It wasn’t enough for him to win; he had to rub it in, too. Every goal he scored, every point he earned, he made sure you knew it. He didn’t gloat outright, no, that would’ve been too obvious.

Instead, he’d give you this infuriating little glance, like you were in on some private joke. As if to say, See? You’re no match for me. It made your blood boil every single time.

You’d thought you could avoid him outside of matches, but somehow, he was everywhere.

At the library, leaning against a shelf with that annoying air of ease. At the cafeteria, stealing your favorite spot by the window. Even in the hallway, you could feel his gaze on you, like a weight you couldn’t shake.

It was like the universe was conspiring to throw you together, just to see which one of you would snap first.

But the tension between you wasn’t just competitive, it was electric.

You hated to admit it, but there were moments, brief and unwelcome, where you couldn’t help but notice things about him.

The way his brows furrowed in concentration, how his shoulders relaxed after a perfect play, or the rare laugh that escaped when one of his teammates made a joke.

And then there were the stolen glances, quick, almost unnoticeable moments when you’d catch his eye and immediately look away, heat rising to your cheeks.

It didn’t help that he seemed to notice.

"What is going on with you and Musiala?" Ida asked after a game. "You’re like magnets… but an angry bad kind."

"He’s just… infuriating," you muttered. "Thinks he’s better than everyone."

"Maybe he is better," she teased, grinning when you scowled. "Relax, I’m kidding. But honestly? I’ve never seen you this fired up."

"He brings out the worst in me," you said, though deep down, you weren’t sure if that was entirely true. Yes, he infuriated you, but he also pushed you to be better. The rivalry was exhausting, but it was also exhilarating.

One afternoon, during a rare break, you sat alone in the cafeteria, replaying the week’s events in your mind. You didn’t notice Jamal until he sat across from you, sliding his tray onto the table.

"Do you mind?" he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Eating," he said, biting into an apple. "Relax, I’m not here to fight you. Yet."

"Gee, thanks," you replied, dripping with sarcasm. "Coming from you, that means so much."

He laughed, unbothered. "You’re not bad, you know," he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Don’t talk down to me, Musiala," you shot back, leaning forward slightly. "I don’t need your validation."

He smirked, his eyes holding yours longer than you expected. "I’m just saying, it’s fun having someone who can keep up."

The words lingered longer than they should have, stirring something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The week continued, each interaction only adding to the storm brewing between you. During a trivia night, you were forced onto the same team by random selection. Every whispered argument, every accidental brush of hands as you reached for the answer sheet, set your nerves on edge.

When your team won, Jamal leaned close, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

"Don’t get used to it," you muttered, though your heart raced at the closeness.

By the time the tournament neared its end, the tension between you and Jamal had reached a heated point. Every interaction was lit with unspoken words, every glance lingered just a second too long.

It wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about proving something to each other, though you weren’t sure what. it was no longer about school pride or trophies.

It was personal. And neither of you was ready to admit how deep it ran.

After a particularly heated game, where both your teams had narrowly secured victories, Jamal caught up with you as you headed off the field.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he said, falling into step beside you.

"Don’t tell me you’re just figuring that out," you replied, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

"No," he said, his tone unusually serious. "I’ve known it from the start."

You glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, the rivalry fell away, leaving only two people who understood each other in a way no one else could. But just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Jamal’s smirk returned, and he nodded toward the exit.

"See you in the finals," he said, his voice light again.

"You’d better bring your A game," you called after him, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to examine.

The finals were looming, and with them, the promise of one last battle. But somewhere amidst the rivalry, something deeper was starting to take place.

Neither of you was ready to admit it, but the lines between competition and connection were beginning to blur.

The finals came faster than you anticipated. One moment, you were preparing, training with everything you had, and the next, you were standing at the threshold of the biggest match of your life.

The weight of the competition, the constant back and forth with Jamal, the pressure to perform; it all sat heavy on your shoulders. But in the chaos, in the swirl of anticipation and adrenaline, what lingered in your mind wasn’t the game, the plays, or even the cheers of the crowd.

It was Jamal.

Every interaction, every glance, every smirk, every perfectly timed subtle teasing left its mark on you. It wasn’t even the words themselves, no, it was the way his presence seemed to stir something in you that you couldn’t put a name to.

The rivalry, intense and sharp, had gradually started to feel like something else. Something more.

And yet, you didn’t want to admit it. How could you? Jamal had always been your rival. The one person you couldn't beat, the one you always wanted to outdo.

But now, when you really thought about it, the competition felt…different. You had stopped seeing him as merely an opponent. Somewhere, between the victories and defeats, he had become something else entirely, someone else.

The finals arrived, and the game was everything you expected it to be. Intense, fast paced, each team clawing for every inch of ground, every goal, every point. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on you as the final seconds ticked down.

Your team pulled through, victorious, the trophy now gleaming in your hands as your teammates crowded around, lifting you up in celebration. Cheers and excitement filled the air, but your eyes instinctively sought him out.

And there he was, standing off to the side, his figure sharp against the blur of victory. His gaze locked with yours, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade.

His face was unreadable, a blank canvas, but his eyes; there was something in them. Something dark and intense, something you couldn’t quite decipher. The air between you crackled with a tension you hadn’t expected to feel.

You wanted to look away, to return to the celebration, but you couldn’t. And when he broke the gaze, turning away without a word, you couldn’t help but feel the faintest sting of disappointment.

Later, when the stadium emptied out and the noise faded into quiet, you found yourself walking the halls alone. The adrenaline from the win still pulsed in your veins, but so did something else.

It gnawed at you, lingering in the back of your mind. Without meaning to, your feet carried you toward the bleachers, where you found him sitting alone, his head tilted back as he stared up at the sky.

"You know, you’re supposed to sulk after a loss," you said, the words almost automatic as you approached.

He didn’t look at you right away, but when he did, there was that smirk. The one that made everything inside you tighten. "And you’re supposed to celebrate after a win," he replied, his voice smooth, teasing.

You climbed the steps and sat beside him, your heart hammering in your chest. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, not exactly. But it wasn’t comfortable either.

It was loaded, heavy with everything you hadn’t said, everything that neither of you was brave enough to voice. The space between you felt like an abyss, but you didn’t know whether you wanted to close it or leave it as it was.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again. "You played well today," he said quietly.

"I know," you replied, your voice lacking its usual sharpness. You didn’t have the energy for the usual banter, not now. Not with him.

His gaze softened, just a fraction. “You’re a tough, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, unguarded sound that surprised you both. "Coming from you? I’ll take that as a compliment."

He smiled, the cocky edge in his expression blunted, replaced by something far more… uncertain. Hesitant, almost. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you wondered, for the briefest of seconds, if he was seeing something you hadn’t noticed before.

"You really are something," he added, his tone softer now, less mocking. It wasn’t quite a compliment, but it wasn’t far from one.

The conversation rambled after that, going onto topics without really settling on any one thing. The tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling at both of you, never quite severed.

There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he looked at you, the way he saw you; not just as a rival but as an equal. And somehow, that made everything more complicated.

The weeks that followed were a blur of practices, interviews, and games, each day blending into the next. But Jamal was never far from your thoughts.

You couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard you tried.

The rivalry, at first so intense, had grown into something far deeper. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the words you didn’t say.

Every time you crossed paths, the air between you seemed to thrum with energy. Every interaction, no matter how small, felt charged, as if the tension was simmering just below the surface, ready to explode.

Then one day, it happened. You found him waiting for you outside the locker room after a particularly tough game. His back was pressed against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He was studying you, as if waiting for something.

"You just can’t stay away, can you?" you teased, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the small shift in his expression, the way his eyes darkened just a fraction.

"I could say the same about you," he shot back, his voice low and deliberate.

There it was again. That crackling energy between you, pulling you in. You swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to take a step back, but your feet were rooted to the ground. His gaze never wavered, and you felt a heat creep up your neck.

"Why do you always have to make everything a competition?" you asked, though you knew the answer before he even spoke.

He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. The distance between you closed, leaving you acutely aware of every detail; the faint scent of his cologne, the way his eyes glinted in the dim light.

His words were low, almost intimate. "Because you make me want to be better. And I think I do the same for you."

You hated that he was right. Hated how easily he saw through you. You hated that you couldn’t look away, couldn’t even bring yourself to fight back.

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, but your words lacked the bite they usually had. It felt more like a feeble attempt to cover up something else, something deeper.

He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "And you love it."

You should have argued, should have pushed him away. But instead, you stood there, frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening, but you couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was changing. Slowly. Relentlessly.

The realization hit you in a moment of silence, one that caught you completely off guard. You had gone to watch one of his games, just to pass the time, to distract yourself from the constant pull between you. But as you watched him on the field, it hit you like a train.

It wasn’t just the way he played, it was the way you felt when you watched him. There was admiration there, sure. But it was more than that. It was something deeper, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge.

When he scored the winning goal and looked up, his eyes scanning the stands before landing on you, everything inside you froze. The crowd was deafening, but all you could hear was the rush of your own blood in your ears. He knew you were there.

And when his eyes locked with yours, it wasn’t just a brief glance. It was something intentional, something deliberate. It made your heart race, and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were proud or…something else.

That night, as you lay awake in your bed, the weight of everything pressed in on you. The rivalry, the competition, the slow, inevitable shift that had taken place between you and Jamal. You didn’t know what it was or where it was heading, but one thing was clear; it was no longer just a game.

It was something much more dangerous.

The next time you saw him, the air between you was thick with unspoken words. Neither of you could pretend anymore. Every glance, every word, every touch seemed to linger just a little longer than it should. The line between competition and connection had blurred, leaving you both on the edge of something you couldn’t name. Something neither of you was brave enough to confront.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to win… or lose.

The tension between you and Jamal had grown unbearable. Every glance, every word, every charged moment felt like a string being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap. And when it did, it was bound to be explosive.

It happened on a rainy Friday evening. You’d just wrapped up a practice session, the field slippery with mud and your teammates’ laughter echoing in the distance. You thought you were alone until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Can’t stay away, can you?" Jamal’s voice was unmistakable, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned to find him standing there, his hair damp from the drizzle, his expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, though you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer.

"Watching and learning," he said, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. But his eyes held something deeper, something that made your breath catch.

"Funny," you replied, rolling your eyes. "You could use the practice."

He laughed softly, the sound rich and warm despite the cold rain. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are," you shot back, crossing your arms.

He stepped closer, and suddenly the air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you could ignore. The teasing, the rivalry, the constant push and pull; it all seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the rain.

"Why do we do this?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"Do what?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.

"This," he said, gesturing between you. "The arguing, the competition, the… pretending."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. "I don’t know," you admitted. "Maybe it’s easier that way."

"Easier," he repeated, as if testing the word. Then he shook his head. "It’s not easier. It’s torture."

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. This wasn’t the confident, cocky Jamal you were used to. This was someone raw, someone honest.

"Jamal…" you started, but he cut you off.

"I can’t do this anymore," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care, like you don’t drive me absolutely insane in the best and worst ways."

You stared at him, your mind racing. Part of you wanted to run, to go back into the safety of your rivalry and banter. But another part, the part that had been growing bigger with each passing day, wanted to stay.

"You’re not the only one," you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took another step closer, so close now that you could see the drops of rain clinging to his lashes. "Then stop fighting it," he said, his voice almost pleading.

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But then he reached out, his hand brushing yours, and all the walls you’d built came crashing down.

The kiss was unavoidable, as much a peak as it was a beginning. His lips were warm despite the cold rain, his touch firm but gentle. It was everything you’d both been denying, all the tension and frustration melting away into something softer, something real.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours, a small, disbelieving smile on his lips.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he admitted.

"Probably as long as I have," you replied, your voice shaky but light.

The rain continued to fall, but neither of you moved. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the newfound understanding between you.

From that moment on, everything changed. The rivalry didn’t disappear, but it softened, became something playful rather than competitive. You still challenged each other, still pushed each other to be better.

But now, there was something more. The stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you; it all added up to something you couldn’t ignore.

You found yourself craving his presence, his voice, his laugh. And he felt the same. The time you spent apart felt like an eternity, and when you were together, it was never enough.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship had become the foundation of something much deeper, something that neither of you could deny.

One night, as you lay together under the stars, he turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this isn’t going to be easy," he said.

"I know," you replied.

"But it’s worth it," he said, his voice firm.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "It’s always been worth it."

And for the first time, you both let yourselves believe it.

The connection between you and Jamal had become an unstoppable force. No matter how much time you spent together, it was never enough. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime, and the longing grew unbearable. It wasn’t just desire; it was a need, an aching pull that neither of you could resist.

It started small, a text here, a call there. But soon, it spiraled into something neither of you could control. Late night phone calls that stretched until dawn, whispered confessions that left you both breathless.

Even when you were apart, you were never really alone; your thoughts were consumed by him, and you knew it was the same for him.

One evening, after an exhausting match, you collapsed onto your bed, exhausted but restless. Your phone buzzed, and you didn’t even need to check the screen to know who it was.

Are you awake?

You smiled, your fingers gliding across the screen.

Always for you.

A moment later, his name lit up your screen. You answered without hesitation.

"I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, his voice low and filled with longing. "It’s driving me crazy."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Join the club," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re all I think about, Jamal."

There was a pause, and you could hear his breathing, steady but heavy. "I hate this," he said finally. "I hate being away from you."

"Then don’t be," you whispered, your words bold but honest. "Come over."

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Less than an hour later, he was at your door, his hair tousled and his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away.

You barely had time to step aside before he was pulling you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate.

"I can’t do this anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I need you. All the time. Every second of every day."

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands cupping his face. "I need you too," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I don’t know how to be without you anymore."

He smiled then, a soft, disbelieving smile that made your heart ache. "Good," he said, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not letting you go."

From that moment on, the walls between you crumbled completely. There was no more acting, no more hiding. You were his, and he was yours, and nothing else mattered. You spent every possible moment together, your lives intertwined in ways you’d never thought possible.

He started showing up at your matches, cheering louder than anyone else. You did the same for him, your voice hoarse and non existent by the end of his games.

When you weren’t on the pitch, you were together, whether it was curled up on the couch, wandering the city hand in hand, or simply lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing.

The rivalry that had once defined your relationship was still there, but it had transformed into something playful, something that pushed you both to be better. You still challenged each other, still teased and competed, but now it was with a smile and a kiss waiting at the end.

One night, as you lay tangled together under a blanket of stars, Jamal turned to you, his expression serious.

"You know this is it, right?" he said, his voice soft but steady. "You and me. There’s no going back."

You nodded, your heart swelling. "I wouldn’t want to," you said.

He smiled, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Good," he said. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

And neither were you. For the first time, you both let yourselves believe in forever, knowing that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[endlessmuse]

after all this time

‘I didn’t,’ he trailed ‘I didn’t think you’d call me back.’

There was a long pause, one filled with tension and unsaid words and memories and love, and sadness. Jude’s eyes met yours, then quickly averted, almost as if it never happened. What should you say? I’d always call you back? No, too desperate. I missed you? Too vulnerable.

‘I wasn’t planning on it.’ you finally settled, your defensive nature creeping out in full force. You fiddled with the bottom edge of your top, nerves seeping out from every pore of your body. It was pathetic, really – it had been a whole year.

His breathing was uneven, reaching your ears in shaky little huffs and puffs – so unlike the Jude everyone sees. The confident, cocky, charming Jude was left at the door. Inside your apartment was the Jude you were well acquainted with: the one that sat next to you in history class, that tugged on the back of your hair in school assembly, that asked you out on your first date. The one that cried as you broke up last October.

‘Right. I’m sorry. Had everything planned out, and like, I weren’t expecting you’d invite me round. And I have so much to say, so much I’ve wanted to say. I just – I don’t know where to start.’

This was new. Over the five years you’d been together you’d seen him in many situations. But this – nervous, rambling, on edge – this was new. It was making you even more nervous. He was always the calming presence you needed, but with him like this, you felt like a child again, anxious, afraid of everything and anything. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

‘I figured it would be easier if we spoke in person.’ You told him. You wondered if that was actually true, or if you just wanted to see him again, in your space again. You suppose you’ve told yourself that lie so many times – that you didn’t care for seeing him – that you almost believed yourself. Almost. He gave a hum of acknowledgment, perhaps waiting for you to elaborate, but you didn’t know how.

The silence was deafening and you couldn’t bare it anymore. Abruptly standing, you reach for the door to the kitchen. ‘I- I need a drink. You want anything?’ You ask him. You cringe at the words stumbling and stuttering out of your mouth. You hear your words dripping with nerves, and you knew he saw right through you. How you were just avoiding the conversation.

‘Yeah, um, water’s fine. Please. Thanks.’ He tells you. As you leave the living room, you hear Jude release a deep sigh, one which had clearly been weighing him down for a while.

God what was wrong with you. It’s Jude. You know him. He knows you. Get it together. You weren’t sure why he wanted to talk. The pair of you had been together since you were both 15, both practically joined at the hip. You’d grown used to often being long distance, creating schedules of visits, FaceTime date nights, and when he left for Dortmund, you even found yourself an internship there for a year. But Madrid changed everything.

You always knew how intense his schedule was, but this was a new calibre of busy. And with you graduating with your PhD at just 20, one of the youngest in your field, you were thrown into a completely new life. Albeit the life you always wanted.

You both tried. You’d both visit every other week, he’d come to you, you’d go to him. whatever worked. Until it didn’t. And sometimes hours would turn into days, and the days would turn to nights, and the next thing you knew you hadn’t really spoken to him in a week. You both saw it coming. 4 months into his move to Madrid, the relationship you once had was no longer there. But you didn’t know what more there was to say.

You reach for a glass in the cupboard, a cheap attempt at distracting yourself from the bitter memory of the last time he was in your home. He’d held you as you cried into his chest, his own tears dampening the top of your head.

You almost pour orange juice in the glass, eyes glancing to the cupboard with the bottle of tequila stored next to the Weetabix and granola. You settle on the orange juice. You’d been in here too long, and he knew it too.

‘She’s finally back,’ the familiar tone returning. ‘Thought you got lost.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘Glad you haven’t lost that sense of humour.’ You smiled for the first time that evening. It felt good. Too good. You hated how he made you feel like that 15-year-old girl again, how no one else could ever come close to making you feel like that. You guys broke up, mutually, but it still hurt. You never really moved on. How could you? You’d just shoved thoughts of him somewhere deep inside, only for late nights with too much wine or bad days at work.

Your body was itching. Your skin felt hot, and your clothes felt too tight. You needed to lie down.

He took a sip of water. He looked shifty, eyes darting from wall to wall, picture frame to picture frame, as if discovering some foreign, unknown territory. His mouth moved as if to say something, but he closed it.

Why was here? What’s taking him so long to spit it out? Should you say something? No, he was here first. God why are you so stubborn. You should just tell him to go, that you have work in the -

‘I miss you.’

Oh. Okay.

A breath of relief escapes him, but as he looked at you properly for the first time since last year, regret settled into his expression. You shifted in your spot, hands on top of each other, arms crossed, back to hands on top of each other. You decide to stand.

‘Say something.’ He pleaded, his voice a whisper that you only caught because you were paying attention to every detail. ‘Please?’

Get it together. You took in a few deep breaths, processing what you’d just heard. You’d grown used to being alone. Thoughts of Jude were for late, lonely nights. You never considered this – him back in your house.

It was scary. Scary how you were having such a visceral reaction to him here. Your palms felt clammy, and your mouth felt dry.

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Right. It’s okay.’ He cleared his throat, setting his water down. ‘I should probably go.’ He stood awkwardly and took a few steps towards the door.

‘Wait. I didn’t mean – don’t leave.’

He stood by the door, waiting for you to continue. He looked tired, like he’d just ran a marathon. You probably didn’t look much better.

‘I miss you too.’ You apparently found the courage to admit the truth, to yourself and to him. His eyes seemed to light up, not noticeable, not unless you were looking for it. He didn’t say anything, and so you took it as a push for you to reply. ‘I just. I’m scared. I guess I waited for you to call, for so long, and you never did. And so, I thought you never would. I figured you were doing good. Without me. And like I found ways to go on with my life and stuff, but like, I felt stupid for missing you. Because I didn’t know if you did.’

It was one of those nights then, full of too many truths and too much vulnerability. You felt sick, tired from all the words, both said and unsaid. You looked at him, he looked so handsomely deep in thought. You felt stupid for going on so much, regretting every single word, the longer he took to respond.

He took a single step closer to you, closing the distance. The room suddenly felt so much smaller.

‘You seriously think that? That I was fine without you? That I didn’t miss you? I thought about you every day. Every single time something good happened the only person I wanted to tell was you. It never felt right. None of it. Not without you.’ He reached out, held both your wrists with his hands.

You shuddered a little at the touch, having not been this close to him in so long. It felt as if everything you’d done this past year had led to this moment. His thumbs swiped across your wrists, so, so gently. And with that, everything you had pushed into one teeny tiny box had just sprung out.

‘All I thought of was you. All I’ve ever wanted is you.’ he continued.

You withdrew your arms from his grasp, forcing both of yourselves to reality. ‘But nothing’s changed. We’re in the exact same position as last year, and I can’t go through that again.’

‘I know that. Neither can I. But I can’t live without you. I’ll make this work. For both of us. So long as you want this too.’ The last part sounded like a question. He seems to have regained his usual confidence, sounding more and more sure of himself.

You’d never been one to take risks. You liked to plan everything, finding a certain charm in normality and routine. You craved it. And so, what you wanted to say, what you probably should have said, wasn’t what you said.

‘I want this. More than anything Jude.’

He gave you his first proper smile of the night, the familiar glint in his eyes returning. He took a moment to look at you, to really look at you again, and you felt your legs turn to jelly. How is it that after years of knowing him, he still has this effect on you? You felt the jigsaw puzzle that was your life slowly slotting itself together, and you almost felt confident that things were going to be okay. Sure, you were hesitant, but that was your nature.

‘I’m glad. I think I would have died if you didn’t.’

‘Bit dramatic, don't you think?’

Jude’s hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone so softly, it felt like a memory of his touch. The two of you stood there in silence, just breathing, his eyes never leaving yours, as though he was committing every detail to memory. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something so comforting in the quiet.

He broke the silence first, his voice barely a murmur. “When I said I thought about you every day, I meant it. I’d be halfway to the stadium or on the plane, and my mind would drift to you. I wanted you, every single time. And I knew it was too late… but that didn’t stop me thinking of you.”

You shifted, feeling the dull ache in your chest intensify, not because you doubted him but because you believed him. And you’d spent so long trying to convince yourself that he hadn’t been thinking of you at all, that maybe it had been easier for him. The reality was harsher: you’d both been carrying this weight, alone, pretending you were fine without each other.

After a moment, you lifted your chin and whispered, “I want this. More than anything. But let’s take it slow, okay? We need to figure this out together. No rushing back in like nothing happened.”

A soft smile crept onto Jude’s lips, and he nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Slow. Whatever you need. I’m here.” And for the first time since he’d walked into your apartment, a calm settled between you both. You didn’t know what the future held, but for now, you had this — a promise, a fresh start.

The air was different. It felt lighter. He took your hands in his, properly this time, and in the quiet of your apartment, everything felt right again.

————————————————————————

I don’t know what this is. It’s really bad I’ll probably delete soon. It has not been proofread. Also I don’t know how to use tenses. I was bored. Sorry

[aechii]

getting into a argument w jude before a big match and him thinking you two aren’t on good terms but before the game starts he spots you in his jersey in the crowd and has that extra boost of confidence to do well bc he considers u a good luck charm

₍⁠₍ DRiViNG FORCE ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! nothing much to say, other than, expect ALOT of jude works this next week heheh 🤭

in retrospect, jude's frustration was justified. blinded and consumed by workload- both her own and favours [y/n] had hesitantly agreed to take on- which had ultimately caused her deathly amounts of stress, she had missed jude’s past 5 games. it was something both her and him found distasteful, and after a long conversation, they had come to the (forced) agreement that she would show up to his next one, no questions asked.

so, of course, when she had informed him that she was due in for an extra day of work, unprecedented, jude’s uplifted mood and focused mindset merged into a catastrophic ensemble as annoyance and disappointment took over. and as she rushed around the kitchen to gather her things, jude remained stagnant and stood by the table as he watched her, frowning. 

“you’re really not coming?” jude questioned indignantly. it came out harsher than he intended, but with all due candor, he didn’t have the heart to care. 

[y/n] hurriedly leaned over the counter to grab her keys, but her boyfriend beat her to it, swiping it into his hands before shoving them into his pocket. 

“what the hell, jude?” 

“are you not listening to me? i asked you a question.”

jude’s stubbornness triggered [y/n] as she threw her arms up in the air. 

“what does it look like?” she retorted, annoyed, “i’m sorry but i really have to go.”

she attempted to reach for her keys, but was stopped by jude. his face turned frigid and a tide of disbelief succumbed him, “are you being serious right now? [y/n]- you haven’t been to any of my games for weeks!”

she checked the time, getting more desperate as she noticed it was 5 minutes past the time she was supposed to leave the house.

“jude, i’m sorry, okay? but i'm going to be late, we can talk about this later.”

he didn’t move, but rather stayed rooted in his spot, arms crossed as he glared at the girl before him. he was swallowed by fury, his mind trailing off on its own, and his mouth just let angered words tumble out.

“you’re so selfish. fucking go then.” his hand digs through his pocket, hurling the keys on the table before shoving his way back to the living room. 

[y/n] stood there, stilled with bewilderment as she attempted to process jude’s outburst. she understood that he had been m.i.a for the past few weeks, and hadn’t shown her face in support of jude. so much so, that fans started speculating that they had broken up, forcing them to reach dire needs of posting travel photos to compensate for her absence. 

but he needn’t call her that. they had talked about it many a time that [y/n] wasn’t ready to give up her job any time soon, and jude, albeit reluctantly, agreed for her to continue going. she knew it would be hard for him to understand as her work involved shifts and being called in spontaneously to fill in missing staff. 

[y/n] faded out of her shock, scoffing as her frustration lead her conscience, “if you want to be like that, then be like that jude,” she shouted to him, snatching her last belonging off of the table and heading to the door. 

she would've cared if she wasn't so pissed at jude, but she instead slammed the door behind her after jude slipped in his last attack. 

"i'll just find somebody else to wear my shirt then!"

+_-

jude could already feel how skewed his mind was the second his cleats sunk into the grass. he felt guilty, in all rights, for what he had said, but he truly was upset for the lack of [y/n]'s support. he realised that his game had dipped just bit, whether they lose or win, and consequently, his name was losing its shine on the scoresheet. 

everyone knew he performed better when she was there. gio had called her his 'good luck charm' to which jude replied with a sound of agreement because he thought so too. jude always had the urge to impress her even more, as if she wasn't vehemently aware of his talent, and it had him dominating the attacking line.

he could excuse 2 games maximum of no show, but now that this was turning into her 6th disappearance, he was getting fed up. 

"you look like there's a stick up your ass, what's wrong?" 

gio had commenced a side step circle around jude, in an attempt to dizzy the boy. it evokes a light look of judgment instead, but jude said nothing. 

"[y/n] isn't coming today… again."

his friend's face turns sympathetic and he stops his ministrations, walking up to him, "man, really?"

jude nodded, "yeah. and even if there was a slight chance she could, i've fucked that up too."

gio rolled his eyes, exhaling melodramatically, "what now?"

"i said that if she doesn't come then i'll just find someone else to wear my shirt." shame riddled his being, and his words progressively depleted in volume as gio looked punched by shock. 

"jude, what the fuck?" he tsked, "and how did she react to that? pissed? because it's very much deserved. matter of fact, i would've broken up with you."

jude's face turned hard, yet he felt his heart drop at the possibility. what he'd said was absolute shit, and it had given his girlfriend options, one of which was to leave him.

over his dead, fucking body.

"don't say that and no, we didn't break up. she just slammed the door and left."

"as if that makes anything any better, jude," gio retorted, arms crossed. he knew jude was quite an amateur when it came to gripping the reins of his feelings, but more times than not, it seemed like it was vice versa. 

marco noticed them slacking off, running up to them before they were being forced into a couple more training drills. jude knew that his playing headspace had to be on, but his conscience dallied between that and pondering over his fallout with [y/n] and he gave up, knowing that he was going to have another off-game. 

+_-

by half time, jude wanted out. they were 2-0 down, and marco was completely livid. his coach had watched them with complete confusion, trying to find the break in the circuit. if he had, and noticed that it was, in fact, jude himself, it was as if he was sworn to secrecy because most players but him were subbed out. 

jude had spaced out during the locker room talk, and his legs were on autopilot as they walked back into the field. his eyes were trained on the mass of black and yellow, in an attempt for a last string of hope, before he's interrupted by gio's voice. 

"jude, look!"

he pointed to the vip box, and jude squinted before his eyes set upon the undeniable stature of his girlfriend, dressed in his shirt. 

"no way."

his mind failed at formulating words, and the second they made eye contact, jude smiled and blew her a kiss. she didn't catch it, but rather gave him a humorous look that said, 'impress me'. 

gio watched the whole ordeal with a grin, hooking his arm around the boy before whispering in his ear, "fix the game, loverboy!"

jude snickers back, feeling his limbs light with exhilaration, "bet."

and the second he scored, he ran up to the stands, hands structured in his girlfriend's initial before making a heart. 

the smile she gave her would remain in his memories forever.

[corriganatheart]

His Maddest Desire (He LOVES her, but she HATES him) Jude Bellingham x reader

Synopsis: She was the opposite of what he needed; the shadow that no one noticed but him. Since the beginning, Jude had always liked Y/N, and his feelings grew every time he saw her. His reputation as a womanizer only makes her question his intention and pushes him away, but that never stops him from chasing after what he wants.

Pairings: Jude Bellingham x reader

Genre: Forbidden romance x Enemies to Lovers x One-sided love x Dark Romance

Warnings ⚠️: Cursing, mention of sexual content 🔞

You weren't sure if you should be depressed about the situation or be relieved. Your family has totally forgotten that you existed and moved on with the welcoming speech without you. On any occasion, you would've been ok with it, but today your distant family was here, and you wore a beautiful dress that complimented your beauty in every way, but instead of flaunting it in front of everyone, you are hiding behind a concrete pole, away from the crowd.

"The L/N family will like to welcome you to our 100th anniversary in business!" You heard your dad exclaim and could see his hand raise his cup, but you were too far to see his face. You look at the number of people in the room; they've doubled since last year, and most are influential people worldwide. From current presidents to famous celebrities, you name it all, your family is connected to everyone. Your heart rate increases as you glance from one person to another, realizing he might be here too. "And my precious gem, my daughter Anastasia will take over the family's business and become the heir of the L/N family!"

Your heart immediately stops for a second, and your vision begins to blur as people clap and cheer for your sister. From the distance, in the spotlight, you see your sister, in the most beautiful dress and most beautiful face standing on the stairs waving and smiling at everyone. She looked confident, ambitious, and strong, something you weren't and would never be. Deciding that it was best to remove yourself from the gathering, you start running to the far end of the mansion, away from everyone.

The cold weather immediately hits your face when you enter the balcony. The city light shines from afar, away from your family's mansion on the mountain. Everything about your city was beautiful, filled with lights you'll never see in person. And even if you did, you’ll still feel ashamed, saddened, and distressed that tinted people ran the city—a family that doesn’t care about anything but power and money.

You look up at the stars and examine their beautiful design. They were all gorgeous, showing their beauty on the blank black canvas, and each star formed its meaning. One particular one formed a shape like a woman with Angel wings. She was floating with a knife-like structure in her hands. She looked powerful among the other stars.

“Her name’s Nemesis,” a familiar voice with a deep English accent says. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is. His voice and the smell of expensive fresh cologne were enough to confirm that he was one of the most influential football players in the world. “She is the goddess of revenge and quite literally an underrating woman.” Your heart beats faster as you feel him getting closer to you, and you want nothing more than to leave without having to look at him.

Jude Bellingham is known for his looks, accent, personality, athletic abilities, influential status, and womanizer. He was everything you needed to avoid, but he always seemed to find you no matter where you were. “Myths say she is more beautiful and stronger than Athena and Aphrodite, and I can assure you she’s everything they say she is.” Your heart skips a beat, maybe many more, as he stands next to you. "Why are you alone, angel?"

Since birth, you have always been in your sibling's shadow. Your sister Anastasia was the golden child of the family. She had the looks, brain, personality, and quite the influence on others. Everyone loves her, and she was your parent's whole heart. Your brother, two years older than you, is the middle child and your mother's son. He was a mommy's boy, and even though he was now an adult, your mother would do anything for him. Your father, on the other hand, was too occupied with Anastasia and the family business to care if he had a son or not. The L/N family was complete with a daughter and a son, but you came into this world unexpectedly. Your biological parents passed away the day you were born, and your birth mother was the best friend of your adoptive mother. And even though she didn't want you, she wanted to be a hero, so your parents went along with the adoption, and you were taken in unwanted.

Growing up, you had quite a fancy life. Money, food, maids, fancy parties, and private schools, but you were never provided the same treatment as your siblings. You understand that you aren’t their biological child, but you’ve been in their family for so long that it seems that way.

Your father, who was always busy, would only talk to you when needed, such as school work and attending events, and your mother would only speak to you when it concern your physical image or family photos. Overall, besides being ignored by your family, you lived a comfortable life and were used to the cold silence from your parents, but it still hurts.

"Y/N?" He asked softly after realizing that your mind was no longer with him. "Why are you alone, angel?"

You close your eyes at the nickname that he gave you years ago. It does many things to you, and no matter how much you try to tell him to leave you alone, Jude Bellingham is always around. “Go back to the party Jude. My brother will be looking for you.”

He remains calm, and from the corner of your eyes, you can see him twirl the glass of whiskey while looking ahead. “Rowan is fine. He’s got blondes, brunettes, red hair, and black hair surrounding him,” Jude says with amusement. You rolled your eyes and placed your hand on the concrete rail, feeling the coldness of it. “My brother’s player ways will never die down,” you mumbled disgustingly.

Your brother, Rowan L/N, is a womanizer, and he doesn’t necessarily have a type. As long as you were a girl and were down for a one-night stand, he would take you to a hotel within a heartbeat. He wasn’t picky with Women either and found all types of women beautiful: curvy, skinny, average, tan, pale, dark; he liked them all. And although he may not seem like it, he respects a woman a lot, and that’s why he’s a mommy’s boy. You and your brother get along just fine, and in high school, he protected you from bullies, but now that he is a university student, you have distanced yourself a little. He wasn’t the older brother you knew from high school; your brother has become colder, bolder, and more like your father.

“You haven’t answered my question. Why are you out here alone?”

The concern in Jude’s voice causes you to look at him angrily. You didn’t need his concern, and you didn’t need his pity; you’ve had enough of those. “What game are you playing, Bellingham?” You asked. Jude raises an eyebrow and places his cup on the rail. You watch one hand disappear into his pocket while the other reaches for your hair, tugging it behind your ears. “Now I see you,” he mumbles and smiles softly.

You look at his lips and then his eyes; gosh, he was beautiful, with a sculpted jawline, thick lips, and a smile that could make a girl get on her knees. But you couldn’t be one of those girls; you were not his type. You have seen the girls he surrounds himself with, and you weren’t them, and he was playing games with you.

“Go find Rowan. He wouldn’t like his best friend with his little sister,” you said as you started stepping away from him. Jude doesn’t budge; he oversees you, examining your moves like always. “He wouldn’t think any of it,” Jude says. You bite your lower lips, “because we just don’t fit,” you immediately spit.

Jude’s eyes go dark as he focuses on yours, and you see how his jaw tenses. You’ve said many things in the past that hurt him, and you knew it’s one of these that gets him railed up. “Why do you hate me?” He asked casually, mainly because he had asked this question many times. And you wish you could answer him, but you don't know either.

You first met Jude when you were 12, and he was 14. Your brother befriended him while they attended an all-boys junior high, and he was one of those friends that would always come over. You remember the first time the two of you made eye contact. It was an immediate attraction on both ends and like the curious cat you were, you stayed and watched him play football with your brother.

Since the beginning, you always attend an all-girls school, and the only boys you've been around are your brother, cousins, and your dad's men. Seeing Jude for the first time, you were immediately drawn to him mainly because he was the most beautiful boy you have ever seen and because of the way he handled the soccer ball. Jude must've also noticed you because he showed off more and was constantly making sure you saw his dribble, scores, tricks, and everything he did; he did it with a purpose. After that day, Jude came over more often, and you always watched him play with your brother. And when you finally reached high school, he became bolder and started flirting with you, asking you to homecoming, inviting you to his games, and doing everything with you in his mind. But never once did you fall for him because, in the back of your mind, you were incapable of being loved, and Jude was only going to break your heart. Unlike you, he was everything everyone wanted, the golden boy, and he was still one.

"Why are you so mean?" he asked, stepping closer to you.

You back up, and he looks down at your shoes, unpleased by that movement. “Don’t step away from me,” he demanded softly as you stood four feet away. “Why?” You asked, even though you knew his answer. Jude grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest, “because I am your man,” he whispers in your ear.

Your heart races rapidly as you feel his hand trace the back of your dress. He was so close to you that his cologne almost caused you to faint. Jude was much taller than you, and your head barely reached his shoulders, and it was so easy for you to hear his heartbeats. And just like you, he was also under the influence, and his breathing was getting harder and harder as his hands trailed up further.

“I am yours, and you’re mine. We fit Y/N,” he says and places his forehead on yours. You close your eyes and imagine the two of you alone, entirely away from everyone. Your life would’ve been more straightforward if you were born into an average family and met Jude accidentally. But you weren’t normal, and you were born into a loveless family that controls your every move. And Jude was a professional footballer that everyone loved. You knew Jude was destined for greatness the moment you looked at him, and unlike you, he was meant to be loved by the world. In the future, he will marry someone important, friendly, beautiful, and loved by everyone, like your sister. And you will be left behind closed doors as his mistress and never be seen again. The two of you just don’t fit.

“What do you want from me, Bellingham?” You asked while exiting his arms and stepping a couple of steps away. “Do you think I will fall for your tricks? Do you think I’ll say yes, and we'll marry in the future while you take one girl after another like your football buddies?” You aggressively asked. Jude glares at you frustratedly as you continue to speak your mind. “Look at me and look at all those girls. We are opposite!”

The two of you stare at one another for god knows how long. The conversation was familiar, and it was giving you deja vu. Jude was very persistent; no matter how many rejections he got from you, he was still chasing. But that never stopped him from fooling around with other girls to show you what you missed. But the two of you knew damn well he would drop anyone in a heartbeat if you came to him.

“I’m not like that,” Jude says softly, his hands hidden in his pocket to keep himself from reaching for you. “You know I want only you.”

It was hard to concentrate on hating him when he said the sweetest, most beautiful things in life. You knew who he was, and the womanizer image was only to make you jealous. But if you admit that you hated the blondes, brunettes, redheads, ginger, and many more girls that he had been associated with, it would only confirm your feelings, and you weren’t going down that path.

“Why?” You quietly asked while looking at the floor, avoiding eye contact with him. “Why are you so nice to me?”

You feel his fingers lift your chin, and in a second, you make eye contact with him. “Is it that hard to see yourself the way I see you?”

No one would’ve ever thought that Jude Bellingham could ever get rejected by a girl. There have been numerous times when he respectfully refused girls, and there have been times when he would use them for pleasure. But it was now getting to him that no matter how many girls he got; his heart still yearns for you and it will only be you that he wants.

"You will eventually marry someone else," you mumbled. "Someone older, wiser, prettier, and at the same level as you."

With a heavy heart, Jude reaches to stroke your face, but you slap his hands away. "Stay away from me, Bellingham.”

You wander back to the hall room, and from the corner of your eyes, you see your brother standing near the champagne fountain, surrounded by numerous girls. On one side, he has another friend of his, Trent Alexander Arnold, and on another side, he has Kylian Mbappe. They all smiled while chatting and flirting with the girls. You take in the way Trent constantly looks bored, and his eyes wander around the crowd, whereas Kylian is very invested in the ladies. To their right, a couple of tables away, your sister was talking to some women around your mother’s age, one of them being Jude’s mother.

It was no secret that your mother and Jude’s mother always wanted to be in-laws. And you were never an option, but your sister was perfection and the apple of everyone’s eye. Jude’s mother had always liked your sister, and the engagement between your sister and Jude would be brought up soon. That is another reason why it was best you stay away from him.

“The party is a bit dense, don’t you think?”

Your shoulder jumps from the voice, and you immediately turn around to see Marcus Rashford standing behind you, with a drink in his hand and the other hand tucked in his pant. He was wearing a white dress shirt with some buttons down, revealing some ink on his chest. His hair was freshly cut, making him look more handsome than you remember.

Marcus was an acquaintance of your dad and one of your sister’s friends. He was always rumored to be dating your sister, but you don’t think there's any potential because despite your sister showing interest in him, Marcus rarely acknowledges her.

“You don’t speak much do you little one?”

You frowned at his nickname for you because you guys aren’t anything at all for him to give you nicknames. This was probably the first time the two of you have ever spoken.

“Why are you talking to me?” You asked quietly despite the room being loud. Marcus smirks and sips his drink, “why haven’t I talked to you is the real question,” he mumbles. You frown and was about to walk away when he grabs your elbow. “Care to dance?” He asked. You look behind your shoulders to see your sister staring your way, eyeing the part where you and Marcus are touching. “Your girlfriend won’t like that,” you said, and Marcus glanced at your sister. “She’s not my girlfriend.” And that should’ve been enough for you to take him up on his offer, but you instead think about your sister’s wellbeing and decide it was best to decline. “I’m sorry but I have to go,” you said and quickly excused yourself.

As you quickly exit the ballroom again, you feel a couple of eyes on you, sending shivers down your spine.

“Jude!” Rowan exclaimed when he walked into the private room made for his casual hookups.

Jude nods and looks around the room, seeing a couple of his friends and acquaintances surrounded by girls, many girls. Your brother has two blondes next to him, with white lingerie on. On the couch in front of him, Mbappé was getting sucked off by two girls while the others were close to having sex. At the center of the room stood two naked girls dancing on the pole with red eyes.

Your brother nods his head towards the couch next to him; a girl that looks similar to your sister is sitting on it, and there is no question that she was brought in for him.

“Enjoy yourself, man,” Rowan says with a smirk. Jude grabs a bottle of champagne on a table and approaches the girl. She was beautiful, with a banging body, a girl he would usually hook up with but never chase. It was honestly torturing to want someone that doesn’t want you back, and the only way to get rid of that feeling was to drink, snort, and fuck. But even that didn’t help.

“Heard my mother and your mother talking. I know they want you all together, but it ain’t happening, man,” Rowan says, “my sister wants Rashford.” Jude chugs his bottle of Champagne, not giving a damn about who your sister wants. The only thing on his mind was to get you out of his system. “You have anyone else in mind?” Rowan asked. Jude smirks and lays both of his hands on top of the couch. The girl next to him was very bold and seductive. Her hands were already roaming his body and unbuckling his belt. “Anastasia is not my type,” Jude shrugs. Your brother raises an eyebrow, clearly not understanding why Jude would say that. He has seen the way Jude interacts with your sister and the way he is constantly being nice to her, so he assumes that Jude has a crush on her. “Then what is your type?” Rowan asked.

Jude lays his head back on the couch and guides the girl’s head down into his unbuckled pant. He then closes his eyes and sighs. “I prefer sexy (eye color) with (hair color) that is always perfectly straightened or perfectly curled. She also wears innocent-looking dresses and looks like an Angel but is a sexy beast that I can never let go.”

Your brother stared at him blankly and looked down at the girl that was now sucking off Jude. She looked like your sister but was the total opposite of what Jude described. Rowan then narrows his eyes, “Careful, Bellingham. I might have thought you were actually describing Y/N.”

Jude chuckles darkly and rolls his shoulders, “We fantasize about things we can’t have; that’s in our nature.” He then closes his eyes, and the image of you appears as he guides the girl’s head to his climax.

You stare at your reflection. Fresh out of the shower, wet hair, smooth lotioned skin, and no scars anywhere.

It was ideal for the women in the L/N family to look their best no matter what, and maybe your mother took that way too far. Growing up, you and your sister were constantly showered with lavish clothing, the best skin care product, the most expensive makeup artist, and the wealthiest designers. Of course, your sister had everyone's best interest, but still, your mother did not forget that she has an adopted daughter with her genes.

"Your sister's birthday is coming up," your handmaiden, Virginia, says as she combs your hair. You smiled and nodded, "she'll want to throw a big one," you mumbled. Virginia hums, agreeing with that statement. She was a couple of years older than your sister and has known you her entire life. She was only a teenager when her parents started working for your family. And when she turned 18, she immediately became your maid. "You know everyone will be there with a date," Virginia says while applying scented oil to your hair. You look at her through the mirror knowingly. She was the only person who knew of your complicated relationship with Jude. “Everyone but me,” you smiled. Virginia chuckled and started braiding your hair so it could be curly tomorrow. “I’m sure there are many single gentlemen that would love to accompany you,” she says. “For example, Marcus Rashford seemed to be interested in you. Or maybe Trent Alexander Arnold, who has always stared at you, and don’t forget Kylian Mbappe, who may be a little older but is a fine gentleman.”

You wait for Virginia to laugh and say it was a joke, but unfortunately, she doesn’t. “They’re all friends of my brother and sister. There is no way they would accompany me,” you said. Virginia smiles and starts tying your hair. “There is always that one person who would take you in a heartbeat.” You glare at her through the mirror, knowing who she is suggesting. She has always supported your feelings for Jude, even if it’s just a simple crush or something more significant. But you’ve told her several times that the two of you just don’t fit. Jude was different from you, and he was also your brother’s best friend. Someone of that high status would eventually get a proposal from the president’s daughter or a princess; you were never in the picture.

“I will say, though, that Marcus Rashford has always been a gentleman to everyone. He may be a bit older than you, but he would care for you perfectly,” Virginia says before she excuses herself from your room.

You sighed and opened the door to your balcony. It was warm with a slight breeze, and the star shone brightly through the dark sky. The oil scent of roses warms your heart, remembering her suggestion about Jude. But even you knew that was a mistake. Your sister will eventually be Jude’s fiancé and you’ll be nothing but his sister-in-law. It was best you have no interaction with him in the future.

“It’s too late for you to be outside Y/N.”

You froze at the deep voice and turned to see your brother closing your bedroom door. He looked like he had just left the shower, with damp hair, a towel around his neck, a black t-shirt, and black pajama pants. He looked exhausted, angry, and annoyed as he walked towards you. “You got school tomorrow; I’ll take you.” You frowned and looked at him, “Mr. Hale can take me,” you said. Rowan crosses his arms, and you notice his muscles are bigger and leaner. His athletic life must be intense. “My university is that way. I’ll drop you off.” You rolled your eyes and leaned against the cold rail. “You’re just making sure I am not skipping school with some boys,” you accused. Rowan raises an eyebrow and stares at you tensely, “If I see or hear about you fooling around with some boys, I will make sure he doesn’t see another day.”

“Rowan,” you sighed, “the school is owned by our family. Do you really think Father and Mother don’t have eyes on me?”

Your brother shrugged and sighed, “I’m just looking out for you.” You nodded and smiled, “I know.”

Rowan smiles slightly, and you notice an eyelash sticking on his cheek. Stepping closer to him, you brush off the hair with your thumb. “There, your skin looks good now.” He stares at you blankly, and you take this chance to look at him. He was all grown now, with a sculpted jaw, thick black hair, dark hazel eyes, and not like the innocent-looking brother you remembered. “Y/N I-“

“Rowan get out of your sister’s room!”

The both of you turned to the door to see your mother standing there with arms crossed, angry eyes, and nothing but her gown on. “She has school tomorrow. Do you know how bad it would look if she were late?” You glance at Rowan and quickly walk back inside and rush to your bed. “My bad, mom. I reminded my little sister that I’ll take her to school tomorrow.” Your mom rolls her eyes, and Rowan chuckles before kissing her on the cheek and waving bye to you.

You smile at your mom awkwardly as she stares at you. Her eyes wander your room, and she looks at your ideally hung school uniform, your finished homework on your desk, and your braided hair for school tomorrow. She smiles satisfactorily and nods at you. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow is your exam. I’m expecting a perfect score. You will be a future doctor and will show the world that your parents raised you wisely,” she says, hinting that you should be listening to her because she adopted you. “Yes, Mom,” you said through gritted teeth. Your mother smiles before saying goodnight and exiting your room.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would go smoothly and you wouldn’t do anything to disappoint anyone.

Comment if you want to be tagged.

[lovemomhatepolice]

soccer masterlist

navigation taglist requests

jude bellingham

marc guiu

A/N: in the future i will add more players to the list! for now I publish only for these two, because, without hiding, I focus on something else, and I do not want to do something “just to do”

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[pavardscherie]

Jude Bellingham 🧡

the thick charcoal clouds spread across the afternoon sky, covering the golden sun like blankets. heavy raindrops splashed on the pavements and streets, the day that was planned so creatively was destroyed by the change of weather.

bottom lip pushed out, pouting as your attentive gaze watched how the rain hit the windows. jude wanted to take you out on one of his days off. enough free time was never between the busy schedule of matches and training sessions, even meet and greets or little events to present the club further. as one of the most popular players on the team, jude had to be present and satisfy the fans.

but the typical autumn weather at the beginning of summer spread a tad of sadness through your body. you waited for those days patiently, and when it was ruined, it shattered the little, beating heart inside of your chest.

the loud ringing of the doorbell made you flinch in surprise, eyebrows furrowed in confusion about the appearance of a sudden guest. no one announced their visit, no one would leave their home if the heavy rain soaked them in only a couple of minutes. it was impossible.

the doorbell rang again as you didn’t open the door in a matter of seconds. the person waiting, was probably completely drenched by now. hurrying over to the front door, you pulled it open quickly. pupils grew in seconds, the eyes widened as surprise twisted your gentle features.

a black jacket with sunflower yellow highlights draped over the head to avoid losing sight in the heavy rain, a bouquet of red roses in his other hand, jude stood on your doorstep. shuffling from left to right, the spare key he usually carried with him, forgotten while waiting impatiently. eyebrows still raised, stunned by his sudden appearance after canceling the little road trip with a picnic following afterwards when finding a cute and private spot somewhere.

“you won’t ask me to come in?” jude chuckled lightly, making his way inside the comforts of the small house without being asked to. after all, he almost lived at yours after realizing the supporters crowded the entrance to his. the relationship wasn’t a secret, but he still tried his best to keep you out of the publicity as much as possible until a sudden event came around, and you were attached to his arm in a beautiful long gown.

“what- what are you doing here? it’s raining outside.” you pointed out of the door, watching how the heavy drops splattered on the streets. “not like i didn’t notice.” jude pulled the drenched jacket off his head, the wetness glistened on the water-resistent fabric as he held it towards you.

“but i mean, you cancelled.” hands gestured wildly through the air, trying to explain the confusion in the pit of your stomach. jude couldn’t hide how his lips curled in amusement, a smile visible as he watched the awkwardness unfold. “babe, calm down.”

he walked forward, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezing it softly. “a little bit of water won’t stop me from spending my day off with you. we might not be able to go on a road trip but we still have enough time for pizza and movie night.” his arm slipped around your neck, pulling your chest closer to his wet one with a warm smile.

the jacket might have prevented the beautiful, black curls from being completely drenched, but his clothes did not have as much luck as them. “i really thought i wouldn’t see you today.”

“please,” jude chuckled so light-hearted, it immediately made you smile. a sound, you loved to hear, you hoped to listen to each day. “i would have died without being with you.”

the words were enough to increase the heavy pounding of your heart against your rib cage. a smile plastered on your face, you stood on your tip toes to press a sweet, and short kiss to his pillow-like lips. “i love you, you charmer.”

“i love you too, princess.” he muttered, pulling your head closer once again to capture your mouth with his once again, for a longer reunion kiss.

[miroslavcloset]

Dating Mats Hummels -Headcanons- Pt.2

A/N: Hi! In this blog, we love old men and we want to be held by 1.90+cm football players. Enjoy, I was feeling inspired by watching some of this beautiful man's interviews and how adorable he is.

He's a gentleman, definitely. If you're comfortable with it, he will open the door for you, hold your hand while getting out of the car and show you how special you are to him.

Will treasure every little gift you want to give him. Those special presents are like his small good luck charms, thinking about you every time he sees or uses them.

Get ready to steal some of his sweaters, he has plenty and he doesn't mind, he actually loves how you look in his turtlenecks, even more, if you're only wearing the sweater and your underwear, in bed.

Loves holding you against his chest, cuddling with you, and how you fit perfectly in his arms like you always belonged there.

He's particularly used to social situations where he was the main focus of attention, but also he'd rather perform in the pitch, not in front of microphones and journalists, so you're like his safe space, where he can be himself and be relaxed in the company of the person he loves the most.

It's an old-style kind of love, one of those that gives you comfort and a feeling of stability, of being home, it could be even called a husband-like.

Likes to have night outs with you, but if you'd rather stay at home, he has plenty of episodes of Brooklyn 99 he'd love to watch with you on the couch or the bed, or maybe introduce you to True Detective if you don't know it yet, and if you do, better yet, would love to have an interest in common with you.

Your smile is one of his weaknesses, he knows sometimes you can be self-conscious so he loves telling you how your smile lights up your whole face and how beautiful you look.

It was a delight to remove his shirt and pull it over his head as his toned torso was uncovered, all of his body was for you only, it was inevitable to lightly bite your lip at the sight.

When he's minding his own business and you want some attention, don't be afraid to hug him or give him a kiss on the cheek, he will be more than glad to give you all the attention you want, of course, after holding your face between his hands and kissing you.

Disclaimer under the cut

DISCLAIMER: This is just fiction and imagined scenarios written by a fan of the aforementioned player, in no way intended to harm anyone in any shape or form. I do this as a hobby, to practice my writing and English skills since it is not my first language (and because I love him, of course, I do) so thanks for reading! <3

[formulalfc]

can you write something abt going back to dortmund w jadon 🤞🏼 and like comforting him abt leaving u*tied and just rlly fluffy :) he seems so excited and happy to be back i need smth abt it

you're both absolutely buzzing to be back, jadon is excited to be playing football again and you're excited to have your boyfriend back. the last few months have been really rough for you guys, your boyfriend was in a dark place and you were running out of ways to try and help him feel better. so when you both got the news that he was definitely going to dortmund you were both jumping around and hugging each other, happy to be out of manchester even if it was only for a year. you guys settle down on the couch, he lays on his back as you snuggle on top of him telling him how proud you are of him and how happy you are that he's getting away and going back to somewhere he feels comfortable. he kisses the top of your head and tucks your hair behind your ears as he tells you how much he loves you and thanks you for supporting and loving him through everything.

inbox is open send me some ramble requests <3

[writtingsomestuff]

hi love could you maybe write something with jamal musiala x girlfriend reader where she's 2 years older than him and has older male Friends and jamal sees a instagram Story of reader and them at a Club he's so jelous and calls her so many times and comes to take her home with him💃❤

Hello! I wrote the best I could. Hope you enjoy it xx

Cinderella and Prince Charming

Jamal Musiala x fem!reader Warnings: None, I think

He thought that with time he would understand it, accept it and move on, but he did not. You were two years older than him, it was not a lot, to be honest, but he knew that you were more mature and had your ideas ordered in life, not like him. You just finished a degree and planned to study a master on September; You even sent a CV to work in a company specialized on your career, currently waiting for an answer. However, he was a kid in front of the world, even in front of his teammates, but could he blame them? Not really. He played football, yes, and he was living his dream, but football, as F1, or basketball and any sport, the day of tomorrow was uncertain; one day you are at the top of the world, and the next, no one knew about you any more. That was his biggest insecurity, that you were around people similar to you, ordered, mature and responsible, and that if you ever left him for one of your old friends, it could be justified.

He was leaving the locker room, after a tough session with his club, when he heard the notification sound from his phone. The message he didn't want to read appeared before his eyes, “Sorryyy! Tonight I’m going to the club with my uni friends. What about tomorrow evening? Ily x” he asked you to meet after a long time apart from each other; he was travelling and playing the last matches of the Bundesliga, while you were finishing the last exams of the degree, however, you had another plans and he was jealous. Yes, jealous. Not so much about you going to club, that was the least of the matters, he also went to clubs, but jealous of all these college friends, who shared their life ideas with you, hobbies and could actually understand you when you speak about your subjects and exams, something that Jamal could not.

After some hours, he had dinner, played some video games and even started a novel that you left the last time you stayed. He was waiting for a last message from you that could assure him that you were at home, fine and safe. To “kill time”, he entered Instagram, a place where you could spend hours that felt like minutes, just like TikTok or Twitter. He made a mistake; the first user that appeared was yours, he opened the video and there was a video you “re-uploaded”: you were there with your, he would say: "amazing, black dress," and you were smiling next to Robert, one of those uni friends. Robert was tall and had black hair that highlighted his green eyes – he was the one who Jamal hated the most, to be honest. Both of you were laughing out loud about something Mary, at the other said, told you. "That Robert” as he called him sometimes, had his arm around your shoulders, while you drunk from your glass.

It was 2 AM, and he started to assume that he would have to drink three cups of coffee before going to the training session, a heart attack was better than an angry Tuchel. He started to worry as you were never this late from clubbing; you enjoyed it, but you would quickly get out as the environment, the strong smell of alcohol and specially your heels would stress you and send you home in three hours. Jamal started calling you, no answer received.

After 17? 18? or 20? – he lost the counting – calls, he went to his bedroom to get changed. He knew which club you frequented, since he picked you up more than once. On his way, he prayed to God that you would be there, and most importantly, that you would be fine.

He entered the club; the ambient was anxious to him, and he understood why he enjoyed these places only when he was wasted and laughing at any of Müller’s jokes. He quickly localized you and your friends, and he felt relieved when Robert was not here, or that Robert. He called your name and your friends to catch all the group’s attention.

“Jamal!” You shouted as you saw his familiar figure walking towards you, “I am so glad you are here” you hugged him, or rather threw yourself on him

“Oh Lord!” He quickly caught you, “Are you drunk?” A silly question, really, your face said more than enough

“Only a bit” You let out a small laugh

“Alright, now” He held you better, trying to put your arms on his waist and his on your shoulders, but you weren’t helping “y/n please help me, so we can go out, okay?” He pleaded, you nodded, but you didn’t help.

Both of you left that and ambient and you finally smiled when you felt the cool air outside

“You’re my príncipe” You smiled at him

“Príncipe?” He tried to repeat with a Spanish accent

“Maya said it means prince, so you are my prince because you came and saved me from that place”

“Why didn’t you answer? I called you a hundred times” He asked you as you he made your way towards the car

“You did?” You asked confused and took your phone from your purse, “Let me see… oh! It doesn’t work Jamal” You gave him your phone as you pouted

“I think it just doesn’t have battery” He gave you the phone back and smiled as he saw the car closer, but then he heard you sobbing “No y/n! Why are you crying, what happened?”

“My heels are killing me, I might bleed and lose a lot of blood” You let out as he opened the car’s door

“But don’t cry, look we’re here already” He helped you to sit down, “now we remove this heels, and we go home to rest, alright?” He cleaned your tears and left a small kiss in your check, before kneeling in front of you to take off those heels.

“I am Cinderella” You said as he gave you small smile

“I would be your Prince Charming any day”

Once at home, he gave an aspirin and a big glass of water, he changed your clothes to a comfortable big shirt of his that, and a Bayern sweatpants, he may appear murdered in the morning because you were a Borussia Dortmund fan, but he didn’t have anything else.

For Jamal, it was enough that you would spend the night between his arms.

Not Musiala scoring that last minute gol! (imagine the scenario in this context) Not a Bundesliga fan but my heart breaks for Reus.

About F1: Praying for Alonso's 33 and finally!! they are in my city, Sainz and Fernando are home, looking forward for a beautiful race

I hope you guys enjoyed it x. Any comments about my writing are welcome. Thanks for reading! and, btw I couldn't think about a better title.

[darlingjude]

What di you think about jude’s transfer 🤍

as a big real madrid fan, i was ecstatic ab it and as an even bigger manchester united fan, it makes me really happy to see liverpool fans upset 🥹 but simply for the perspective of his own career trajectory, i think it’s truly unbelievable how he managed to go from birmingham to madrid within the space of like 4 years.

and i’m seeing so many bvb fans say shit like “ugh he’s not gonna be guaranteed playing time every game, he’s not gonna play the full 90”. that pisses me off bc that’s not necessarily a bad thing. at dortmund, he was beyond overworked and overplayed bc he was simply irreplaceable in that squad and they didn’t have anyone that could do what he did to the same level. the excessive playing time is probably what led to him having his knee problem.

at madrid, not only will he have the opportunity to learn from one of the best managers of all-time, be mentored by two of the best midfielders in the world and play alongside some of the best players in the world, but he will also not be carrying the heavy weight of knowing that if he doesn’t play then they might lose. ik he relishes the pressure and responsibility but truthfully, it is good that he isn’t going to be playing 90+ minutes week in-week out.

and for those of you concerned ab the racism in la liga, there is racism everywhere. the only difference i can see is that the racism in spain is much more explicit. jude has already spoken openly ab the comments and scrutiny he faces behind the scenes, and as unfortunate as it sounds, he is learning to deal with it. we shouldn’t act like the bundesliga was some perfect league cause it wasn’t 😭 ppl are racist asf there too.

[a-very-bored-blogger]

drowning in exams, open to spamming memtal breakfowns and thoughts regarding my football hyperfixation not limited to:

kai havertz

robert lewandowski

manuel nuer

marco reus

jack grealish

phil foden

fabian schar

nick pope

callum wilson

sven botman

declan rice

martin odegaard

eden hazard

and much more i can't think of right now

[chlerc]

on the move ; jude bellingham

— summary; being in love with the guy you said yes to no-strings attached has to be the worse thing ever. He made it worst by moving to Madrid, no goodbyes.

pairing — jude bellingham x fwb!f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1070 with a mix of social media posts.

content — lil angst(?) the girl who wants a forever with the guy who’s always on the move for his career. lil tadbit of asshole & toxic jude i think

NAVIGATION + author’s note: tbh idk where this went near the end, it’s sketchy…

is jude toxic if he’s based off this song…

Liked by judesgf, judeupdates and 29,462 others

ftballwags Jude Bellingham spotted with rumoured girlfriend, @ynusername ( last picture from her story captioned 2+2=22 in black and yellow )

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files4jude damn he got a girl now

luvjb22 she’s literally so gorgeous…

jbellinghamdaily caption @ my account wrongly, that’s me sorry guys

Liked by gioareyna, jobebellingham and 2,581,654 others

judebellingham what a place 🇬🇷

View all 8,532 comments

jobebellingham who the flowers for

judebellingham @jobebellingham a cute photographer / my stalker

gioareyna cutie 😍

judebellingham @gioareyna all you 😘

ftballwags the flowers 🫣

j22de flowers are for me calm down guys

WAKING UP IN THE embrace of Jude had become her favourite thing over the past month. It was the way he had his arms around her waist, legs tangled with each other, the warmth radiating off his bare body and the comfort within him.

Him sleeping over at her apartment wasn’t foreign anymore, not with how the friendship escalated between them. From a friend to the rumoured girlfriend who in truth was actually a friend with benefits. Pictures of them together all over every social media platform but not once had Jude denied it but fueling it.

Her eyes gazed upon him as she adjusted to the golden streaks pouring in through her curtains. He had the kind of face that stopped her in her tracks. He was the kind of handsome that got into her bones, that spoke to her of olden times before he’s said a word. And he was so handsome as he slept, that steady heart, those steady breaths, more than enough to make her feel something she shouldn’t have.

She reaches for her phone and the screen lighting up, notifications flooding her lock screen but one catches her attention. “@fabrizioromano OFFICIAL: Jude Bellingham, Real Madrid player until 2029 for €103m plus 30% add ons!” She could feel the way her heart dropped, the blaring ringing sound in her ears and beads of tears threatening to spill.

“Why are you crying, m’love?” Jude shuffled under the covers, fingers running to swipe the tears off her cheeks as his hand cupped the back of her head. “You’re playing for Madrid next season?” The vulnerability in her voice almost broke him with how soft her sentence came out. “Yeah.” That was all he could get out knowing what was coming next.

“You’re leaving Dortmund? I thought you said you were staying.” Jude takes the moment to sneak a quick glimpse of her before looking away again, unable to maintain eye contact with her. “I did but if a club like Real Madrid offers you a contract would you have said no? It was for my career, not the money. Any amount of money from the team wouldn’t have been able to get me to stay.”

She knew this was coming all along, the talks and posts of Jude transfering to Madrid during the summer transfer yet she still got herself tangled in his mess. “So you’re moving to Madrid?” Her lips quivered at every word she’d said, struggling to compose herself when she should and had to. “Yeah, of course I‘m leavin’. You wouldn’t expect me to travel to and fro Spain, would ya?”

“So you’re leaving me behind too.” She mumbles under her breath, hoping to god Jude hadn’t heard it but he did with the close proximity between them. “There’s no way you’re acting sappy all up on me now. You went into this knowing you’ll never get anything out of it, I'm not staying just because you want me to or you need me.”

He untangles himself from her, throwing on his white sweatshirt that was on the floor. This was the kind of talk he wanted to avoid and he had never expected it to be with her. “I tell you I love you every night and I wake up to find you’re leaving for Madrid? I’m not even mad you’re leaving for Madrid, I’m mad I had to find out through a Twitter notification and not you when you were right in front of me this whole time.”

“Yeah what were you expecting me to say? I’m leaving for Madrid, whatever we have now ends here. No shit that was going to hurt your feelings like it is now but I told you that nothing will ever come out of this. Weren’t all your ‘I love you’ platonic?” There’s a hint of frustration in his speech as he huffed, hands crossed over his chest as he towers over his girl who was now standing. Once his girl, in his heart.

“Platonic? I literally am in love with you, Jude. The bare minimum you could do was to tell me you signed a contract with them, that would have prepared me for all this. I would have celebrated it and let you leave just like that.” She refuses to let him see the tears she’s gonna weep for him, not when he was being heartless but right.

“Love love love, all this bullshit coming from you. Then just continue being in love with me but I’m telling you I’m not staying for you. Wow it’s like you’re making me choose between my career and you! We agreed there’d be no love between us and you agreed, don’t push the blame on me like I’m heartless.” No one could ever experience it and she wished no one would ever experience the sorrow she felt. It’s almost like she’s his plaything, using it and throwing it however he wants.

“So it was something like you leading me on? Not addressing the girlfriend rumours?” And when his eyes were shifty and looking everywhere but her, it was more than a clear sign she needed. “No, not leading you on. I was just tryna be a gentleman but you obviously misunderstood that too. Addressing the rumours only makes it more complicated that it already is now, and you’ll just misunderstand it too.”

“I think you should leave, it does end here like you said. You’re not heartless, I was just stupid and wanted more from you even though you promised nothing. Thanks Jude, for opening my eyes.” She smiles meekly at him, not quite like the same smile he’d always see that reaches her eyes. “Yeah that’s what I’m doing, you’re living in wonderland and dreaming. Wake up, I’m not like how you imagined me to be. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.”

God he had been exactly how she imagined him to be but without this part. He definitely was everything she wanted even now despite everything he had said. Her eyes followed Jude as he left her bedroom, the shuffling of his feet and the slamming of the front door.

She should have known nothing lasts forever, she had walked into it knowing she’d never get anything out of it. She isn’t getting anything out of it and that shouldn’t affect her, that was what she planned to do after hearing his words. Nothing lasts forever, get over it.

Liked by gioareyna, masonmount and 348,937 others

ynusername ibiza, you were amazing 🤍

View all 3,826 comments

gioareyna miss you

ynusername @gioareyna miss you too, catch up soon when i’m back in dortmund 💋

sofiamartinez gorgeous girl love ya

ynusername @sofiamartinez love you 🤍🤍

ftballwags absolutely stunning 😍

julianbrandt Ist diese hübsche dame single? (is this pretty lady single?)

ynusername @julianbrandt haha nein, aber für dich könnte ich 😂 (haha no, but for you i could)

Liked by ynusername, jb22daily and 34,837 others

ftballwags Stories of rumoured girlfriend of Jude Bellingham, looks like there’s no more Jude in the picture. ( last picture from her bf’s story. )

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ynusername 🤍

ftballwags @ynusername 🤞

judesgf NOW I HAVE A CHANCE 💪

jude_updates_22 damn i was rooting for them

bvb.updates bottled it like the title 😓

Liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham and 693,927 others

ynusername Love, Madrid 🎞️

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gioareyna always stunning

ynusername @gioareyna can’t even see my face 🙄 but thank you gio 😘

gioareyna @ynusername still pretty in my eyes

jobebellingham food looks good

ynusername @jobebellingham always saved some for you 😁

judebellingham pretty girl

ftballwags @judebellingham 🤔👀

charlottehartz my girl (who has a bf) 💋💋

ynusername @charlottehartz nope, all yourssss

Liked by jobebellingham, gioareyna and 6,065,709 others

judebellingham recently but life was better with you

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gioareyna your fault though 😓

judebellingham @gioareyna like i didn’t know that

jobebellingham fire caption 🔥 took you 7 months to realise

judebellingham @jobebellingham 🤬🤬

bvbdailupdates blud thinks we’re clueless

ftballwags now this is kinda sad