#fabio carvalho fanfiction

[football-and-fanfics]

Faint - Fabio Carvalho

Who: Fabio Carvalho Request: fabio faints whilst hanging out with the lfc squad. With harvey mainly but also with a couple of other lfc members :) Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of fainting

A/N: this turned out more with Harvey than with the rest of the LFC squad. Hope you don't mind 🙃

He really should not have skipped breakfast this morning, that much Fabio painfully realized by now. But when he had overslept and was running spectacularly late for morning training, it seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Somehow, Fabio managed to make it through the entire training on an empty stomach, but when he came back to the dressing room afterwards was when things went wrong.

Fabio already felt the effects of his blood sugar getting low due to not having eaten, but coming back into the warmth of the dressing room after the cold of the training pitch, was the last straw. He suddenly felt very faint. He couldn't get his gaze to focus on anything anymore, and Fabio realized only too well what was going to happen to him.

"Harv..." Fabio reached out for Harvey standing beside him. He needed some support to remain standing, but it already was too late. Fabio fainted, in the middle of the dressing room, frightening all of his teammates.

"Holy shit! Fabio?" Harvey was closest to him, and immediately dropped to his knees beside where Fabio lay unresponsive on the floor. "What happened to him?" Jordan was quick to respond as well. "I don't know," Harvey stammered, helplessly shrugging his shoulders. "Stay with him, I'm getting the doc." Jordan quickly got to his feet and ran off to get some help.

"Fab? Fabio?" Harvey carefully shook Fabio's shoulder. Fabio stirred slightly, and Harvey had never been so relieved to hear a faint groan roll off Fabio's lips. "Come on, mate, talk to me." Harvey kept his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Tell me what's going on." Fabio groggily opened his eyes. "I'm okay." "You blacked out," Harvey scoffed. "I know," Fabio mumbled, "it's because I didn't eat anything yet today."

Right at that moment, Jordan returned with one of the team's doctors. "What happened?" The doctor immediately turned his attention to Fabio still lying on the floor. "I didn't eat anything all morning," Fabio answered, sounding a little embarrassed now, too. "You did the whole training without having eaten anything?" The doctor frowned slightly. "Than it's not hard to conclude that your blood sugar got too low and that's why you fainted. Not the smartest move on your part." "Yeah, I know." Fabio accepted the quiet reprimand without complaint. He knew very well he had only himself to blame for this, but that didn't make him feel any less bad.

The doctor rummaged around is his bag and fished out a packet of Dextro Energy. "Eat a few of these until you start to feel less woozy."

Fabio slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Easy, mate." Harvey had not left Fabio's side all this time. "Careful." "I'm alright," Fabio answered softly. "Not taking any chances on that." Harvey positioned himself behind Fabio, so his friend could lean his back against his chest. "Thank you," Fabio mumbled, leaning back gratefully against Harvey. Now that he sat up, Fabio had to admit he still felt a lot more shaky than he thought.

Fabio slowly chewed on the handful of Dextro's the doctor had handed him. It took a few minutes, but finally he felt himself come somewhat back to life.

"You good, mate?" Harvey asked quietly. "I am," Fabio nodded, "but now I'm mostly hungry." "I'm sure that can be resolved." Harvey moved away from behind Fabio and got to his feet. "Let's have lunch."

Fabio accepted Harvey's outstretched hand to pull him to his feet. As soon as he stood, Harvey pulled Fabio into a hug. "Please, don't ever scare me like that again," Harvey mumbled for only Fabio to hear. Fabio chuckled a little embarrassed for scaring his friend like that, but returned to hug. "I promise I won't do it again."

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

Add me to the tags list | Fabio masterlist | General masterlist

[sopranicc]

loverpool drabbles

writing blurbs of my lfc players ideas that are too short for ao3 but too long for my drafts means a new series has emerged:

loverpool drabbles!

(will eventually take requests :))

consah (conor bradley x jarell quansah):

Drabbles

abuse - After the League Cup game against Brighton, Jarell needs a helping hand to bring him back up.

robbotrent (andy robertson x trent alexander-arnold):

Drabbles

harvalho (harvey elliott x fàbio carvalho):

Drabbles

late nights - 3 times Harvey and Fàbio talked over the phone and the 1 time they did in person.

Head canons:

languages - What languages do each couple speak to each other?

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Hey, me again!

So your fanfic about Alisson and Virg made me feel butterflies in my stomach with happiness.

Possibly you don't ship them. Me, however, when I think of fanfic, I usually disregard that they are married with kids, so yes, I confess, I ship them.

And I wanted to ask for a specific fanfic. I'm not going to ask for anything involving kisses on the mouth or anything wrong because that wouldn't make much sense.

However, I wish you could write a fanfic where they comfort each other, especially Alisson comforting Virgil since he feels bad about his wound. It could be something like forehead kisses or things that people who don't ship might see as platonic. I also wanted it to be a fic that focused on them. It could be anguish with a happy ending, if you will.

Kisses! Ruby loves you!

So glad that my fanfics make you feel that way!!! 💛💚💙 Here it is after days of work

Tags: @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @rubybecker-rb2, @millythegoat, @rist-mlts

Nightmares and Sweet Dreams

Virgil Van Dijk was one of those people where you got exactly what it said on the tin. His particular tin happened to advertise an extremely promising and reliable product of hard work, public experience, and…well, you get it.

Works hard, plays hard. Quieter than most, but always ready to help. Reliable. Never crumbles, never breaks. Not affected by anything.

Calm as you like.

Even though Van Dijk loved his song, it was the “calm as you like” part that scared him the most. Because at this current point, he was laid up with an injury while his teammates were left to salvage what they could from their dumpster fire of a season.

He couldn’t deny, being injured brought back memories; but they weren’t exactly ones he wanted to revisit anytime soon. When the physios had told him that he would be out for a month, Van Dijk's mind had immediately flashed back to Pickford’s tackle.

You’re out, Virgil, he remembered the medics saying that day. You’ll be out for an entire year and you’ll probably miss the Euros. Pickford’s tackle blew your ACL and you’ll need to have surgery.

Sitting on the same treatment table, in front of the same doctor, in the same track pants hadn’t helped whatsoever. In fact, it made Van Dijk even more scared of the same thing happening as it did last time.

What if it got worse and worse? What if he couldn’t play for a whole year, again? What if Matip ended up on the treatment table, and then Konate, and then Phillips and then…

That’s why Van Dijk now navigated the world on crutches, even though he didn’t necessarily need them. Every time he watched the matches, he couldn’t help but think how he should’ve been there, helping his teammates. And he’d stopped staying at Kirkby, always finding a reason to drive home and spend the night there. Nobody needed to know that he still woke up from the same apocalyptic nightmares every night. Nobody needed to know that the nightmares had gotten so bad, he’d taken to sleeping with a special throw blanket.

Nobody whatsoever needed to know that the throw blanket happened to be Alisson's throw blanket.

*

The Liverpool players had gotten a rare day off, since their next game was on Sunday. For some, that meant a pool tournament in the cafeteria.

Alisson leaned his cue against the wall as he and Carvalho watched their teammates play pool. Fabinho was outscoring the others on the scoreboard, and Alisson was rock-bottom of the table. It was new to him, considering that he was almost never ranked the worst in anything, but he knew he wasn’t going to be the best of everything.

“A-ha!” Matip cheered, knocking his ball into one of the holes. “Second place! Take that, Joey.”

Gomez pouted, rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. “You wouldn’t have won if you were playing against The Virg!”

Matip nodded, updating the scoreboard. “Yeah, if Virg was playing Fabi wouldn't be leading either. Ali might still be at the bottom of the table, though.”

“Where is Virg, by the way?” Alisson wondered aloud. “Did you see him, Joel?”

“I invited him to the pool tournament,” said the Cameroonian, deep in thought. “He said he’s got stuff to do at home.”

Carvalho frowned, taking up his cue. “He’s sure got a lot of stuff to do. Did he have a baby or something?”

Fabinho stared at Carvalho like he’d just walked in wearing an Everton shirt. “What makes you think that?”

The young Portuguese put his hands up in defense, stepping back. “He rarely spends time with us anymore! All he does is sleep or think…or isolate himself.”

Alisson didn’t waste another moment. He dropped his cue, heading in search of Van Dijk without any further explanation.

*

Van Dijk wasn’t known to hide. Alisson had the feeling that hiding was exactly what the Dutchman was doing, though—so he searched all the places that he would hide if he were Van Dijk.

The broom closets and the showers were empty. Alisson's inspection of the rec rooms turned out futile, as well, and his pace increased from a slow walk to a brisk jog through the halls of Kirkby.

This was more serious than Alisson had thought. Where was Van Dijk, and why couldn’t he find him anywhere? He wasn’t usually on this end of the situation; but if there was one Alisson was sure about, it was that he could usually find his teammates wherever they were hiding.

What if Virg left Kirkby? Alisson gulped at the thought, throwing aside the curtain to check. Luckily, Van Dijk's car was still in the parking lot. The goalkeeper let out a sigh of relief—Van Dijk was usually a good driver, but emotion could get the best of anyone.

Tell me next time you want to hide, Virg, and I’ll show you some good places.

A clattering noise shook Alisson out of his thoughts. He spun on his heel, glancing towards the source of the noise—the training pitch.

He pushed open the door with the most force he could ever remember, sprinting over the training pitch while calling for Van Dijk. The training pitch was large but very open, and soon Alisson found Van Dijk kicking balls into the net with his uninjured foot, holding onto the goalpost. His crutches had been tossed aside, landing haphazardly on a yellow plastic dummy.

“Finally, Virgil!” Alisson tried to sound as cheerful as possible despite Van Dijk's strange behavior. “What are you doing here?”

Van Dijk didn’t respond, slamming another ball into the net.

“Virg?” It was as if Alisson wasn’t even there. “Please, answer me!”

Van Dijk finally stopped booting balls into the net and faced Alisson. His normally tidy man bun had tendrils and puffs of hair sticking out of it, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Alisson then realized just how long it had been since he’d seen Van Dijk in person.

“You…forgot your crutches,” said Alisson, handing the walking aids back to Van Dijk. He wanted to comment on how tired Van Dijk looked, but Van Dijk was rather sensitive about his looks. “The pool tournament started half an hour ago. Didn’t Joel invite you?”

Van Dijk took the crutches and threw them as far as he could. They landed on the same yellow plastic dummy. “Joel’s better off without me.”

“Why would he be better off without you?” Now Alisson knew something was wrong. If there was one person who Van Dijk adored, it was Matip. While the two had their own opinions on certain matters, Matip cared for Van Dijk as much as Alisson did.

Van Dijk's hands clawed and scratched at his hair, further disheveling it. Alisson could only imagine how many scrapes and lacerations were left on the Dutchman’s skull, such was the force he was using.

“Virgil, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Alisson exclaimed once he couldn’t take it anymore. He gently but firmly grasped Van Dijk's wrists and pried them off his head, directing his arms to his sides. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You have eyebags and dark circles under your eyes, you look like you haven’t slept for days.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” Van Dijk confessed, wrestling his arms away from Alisson's grasp. “What am I going to do with myself? I can’t play and I can’t help the team. What if this injury lasts for more than o-one month? What if it lasts for a year, and then a year turns into two years, and then—”

“Acalmar.” Alisson sat next to Van Dijk, trying to appear calm while he was internally freaking out. Van Dijk wasn’t always calm, that was for sure, but Alisson had never been in a situation where he and a not-calm Van Dijk were alone. Simply put, Alisson had no idea what to do.

Unless he did the obvious.

“It’s not going to go that long. The medics won’t lie to you, right? They only want the best for us, Virgil.”

“But…” An excruciatingly long three seconds passed before Van Dijk spoke again. “I’m scared.”

“Scared? Oh…” Suddenly, the reason for all of Van Dijk's strange behavior dawned upon him. “You’re scared of missing a whole year. Just like the last time you got injured.”

Van Dijk nodded, leaning into Alisson's shoulder. The keeper had never seen Van Dijk this vulnerable before—even after losing major tournaments finals and making drastic errors. “I can’t do it again. It’s giving me nightmares…I’m so tired every day.”

Alisson had never been very good with words of comfort. So he settled on pulling Van Dijk into his arms, letting his teammate rest his head on his chest. “Sleep, then.”

Van Dijk yawned, eyes half closed. “I have a secret.”

“Yeah?” Alisson sighed with relief upon seeing that Van Dijk had calmed down from his previous hysterics.

“Don’t tell anyone…I have your throw blanket. The Selecao one,” Van Dijk elaborated. “I wrap myself in it like a cocoon and it’s the only way I can sleep. Yes, I know it’s weird, but…”

Alisson shut Van Dijk up by hugging him even tighter. “Then we can be weird together. I stole one of the boss’s jackets in 2019 and it was one of the only things that kept me from going insane during the lockdown.”

“But that’s you.” Van Dijk yawned again; he was slowly drifting in and out of consciousness. “I’m supposed to be as calm as you like for everyone.”

“Nobody can be as calm as you like all of the time,” Alisson reminded him. He fully untied Van Dijk's hair, gently untangling the various knots and clumps of grass. “Even o patrão freaks out in the moment.”

“What about everybody else?” Van Dijk mumbled sleepily.

“Shhh, acalmar. I’ll take care of that,” Alisson assured Van Dijk. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d take care of that—he’d left his phone inside the training ground—but Van Dijk didn’t need to know that. What Van Dijk needed now was reassurance—and sleep.

A noise pulled Alisson from his thoughts. He froze, then smiled when he realized the noise was a light snore and that Van Dijk had fallen asleep.

He draped his scarf over his friend, gently stroking him on the forehead. “Doces sonhos, Virgil.”

[millythegoat]

Nice little warm one to accompany my sahur 🥰

footballers when theyre sick

requested by my homie @rubybecker-rb2 !!! ty so much for requesting <3

leo: he recognizes that he should take it easy so he takes the day off from training, but what he DOESNT do is text his teammates saying hes sick n wont be there, so later that day when hes watching tv n eating soup he hears his doorbell ring, only to be greeted with a very worried neymar whos like "I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOUUUU!!!!1!!!11!!!"

ney: oh he complains a lot. once he starts feeling unwell he calls up leo like "leeeeo i feel like shit!!" n naturally leos like "what do you want me to do about that -_-"

luka: oh hes the one who gets sick EASILY. fifty degree weather with a slight breeze is all it takes to do him in. like on a particularly cold day, he'll start sneezing (oh n he sneezes like a little bunny you cant tell me otherwise) n sniffling n be like "AGAIN??!?!!?"

zlatan: has never gotten sick once in his entire life. his temperature is a perfect 98.6 at ALL times n has never changed.

gavi: ok idk why i get this vibe but he becomes a whiny little bitch when hes sick (IM NOT INSULTING HIM IM EXACTLY THE SAME WAY). like if he starts getting sick at training he is gonna make it EVERYONES problem. you KNOW hes whipping out those big brown puppy dog eyes at every given opportunity. "i feel so terrible can you get me some ginger ale🥺"

sergio: this stubborn bitch wakes up feeling sick n what does he do?? haul ass to training anyways. as the day progresses n it becomes increasingly obvious hes unwell the team will tell him hes gotta sit out n take it easy. luka nags the SHIT outta him n ends up taking care of him even tho hes still salty he came to training in this condition, and sergio considers it the best day of his life.

mbappe: see at first hes a stubborn bitch who goes to training despite being sick, however he CANNOT pull through n ends up sitting out after warmups

joão: oh boy. he gets so sick he decides to go to the doctor, n while hes there he takes some kinda picture n posts it online captioned "feel awful, wish me luck" n then NEVER follows up on it, so his comments are filled w ppl being concerned for his well being

pep: wakes up, realizes hes sick, texts kevin "youre in charge today. dont fuck it up" n goes back to sleep

klopp: decided to still go to training, but lfcs practically a family so everyone knows somethings up within like five minutes. when the boys realize the boss isnt feeling well they give him a rant abt self care n milly drives him home.

[football-and-fanfics]

Fabio Carvalho masterlist

These are all the imagines I have written for Fabio Carvalho (links below the cut). Newly posted imagines for him will be added onto here a.s.a.p.

Last updated: 14 February 2023

Imagines posted in 2022:

Forgetting his wallet

Fainting

Imagines posted in 2023: None yet

[sopranicc]

finally opened up a tumblr just to support my fanfics haha

a jarell quansah x conor bradley work, featuring virgson being jarell's dads, robbotrent trying (and failing) to be conor's dads, and guest appearances from harvalho

aka 5 times conor tries to confess to jarell, and the one time jarell does

aka 8.5k words of pining

aka i wish more people wrote about them so i made this jokesfest to cope

[sopranicc]

late nights - fàbio carvalho x harvey elliott

Summary: 3 times Harvey and Fàbio talked over the phone and the 1 time they did in person.

(Very much recommend listening to ‘Feel It' by d4vd while reading this, it was the main inspiration!)

It is dark. 

In an apartment on the 7th floor in a complex in Merseyside, a young blond man finds himself walking back and forth across his room, hand on his chin, contemplative.

His phone rings on his desk, shaking him out of his stupor. He sees the caller ID and answers the call quickly, propping up the cellular device on a random book.

“Hey Fàbio,” the blond says, grabbing a blanket and sitting down on the chair in front of the desk. “How's Germany been treating you?”

The aforementioned Fàbio shrugs, the white sheets behind him shifting at the action. “It could be better Harvey,” the Portuguese says.

“If only it had you.”

Harvey frowns, grabbing the phone as though Fàbio would feel his touch through the screen. “I wish I was there,” he says. The orange lamp light reflects the telltale sign of tears growing in glassy eyes, a sea with waves so large that the shore would surely suffer.

“Do you wish you were here, in Germany,” Fàbio asks, voice lowered to a whisper. “Or do you wish that I was there, in England?”

Harvey tilts his head, confusion lacing his tone as he responds, “Is there really a difference as long as we're together?”

Fàbio laughs at that. A bitter laugh, void of mirth or joy. To Harvey's ears, it sounds wrong, like an out of key piano.

“You were always the more naive one,” Fàbio sighs. He looks away from the camera, and Harvey wishes desperately to be able to see the eyes of the man he dedicated himself to. The eyes that had once stared up at him in awe, admiration, love. 

“We're different, Harvey,” Fàbio says suddenly, slicing through the tension in the air, enveloping them despite the hundreds of kilometres of distance. “We're not kids anymore. This is the real world. And in the real world, I'm not made for the big leagues like you are.”

Harvey shakes his head vehemently, a form of protest against the defeatist words. “You will, you just need to work hard at Leipzig and show Klopp-”

“Show him what?” Fàbio cuts in, voice wavering despite the increase in volume. Harvey jumps slightly in surprise, and Fàbio looks just a bit apologetic. “I get zero game time. There's nothing to show.” His voice becomes strained, the weight of his reality sinking in with each word.

Harvey opens his mouth to speak, but Fàbio beats him to it. “I'm sorry,” Fàbio apologises, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This was supposed to be just us enjoying our limited time together, not me ruining everything like I always do.”

“Fàbio…”

“Good night Harvey.”

The end call tone beeps before Harvey can get anything out. ‘Call Ended’ is displayed on the screen, a cruel reminder.

The blond turns off his phone and climbs into bed, pulling the sheets over him. He turns over and turns off his lamp, shrouding the room in darkness.

Quietly, he whispers into the abyss,

“I wish you didn't leave.”

-

It is hot.

“Ready for the flight back to Anfield?” The blond asks, barely able to restrain himself from smiling like a maniac.

Fàbio nods. “Yeah,” he says. “It'll be nice to be back home. Too many guns in the US.”

Home. With him. 

Harvey grabs his phone and drops unceremoniously onto the bed, still smiling unabashedly. “Sooooo…?”

Fàbio raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “So what?”

“Sooo when are you moving back in?” Harvey asks, excitement filling his voice. “I'll have to move some things around but I think-”

“Harvey,” Fàbio sighs, and it's only then that Harvey notices the dark eyebags and the stress wrinkles on Fàbio's face, initially obscured by the grainy quality of the call. “I'm not staying.”

Harvey's blood suddenly goes cold. The fantasies of early morning wake up kisses, training carpooling, and cooking adventures halt. “What?”

“I really shouldn't be telling you this, but you deserve to know,” Fàbio mumbles. Suddenly Harvey wishes that they were sharing a room, that it wasn't lights out, that he could sneak out and be with Fàbio. Because it sounds like it might be his last chance to.

“I'm moving. Permanently. To Brentford.”

“B-but what about us?” Harvey stutters out. “I mean, that's not so bad, right? Brentford isn't far, only a 3 and a half hour drive. We can make this work, right?”

“Harvey,” Fàbio says, and he sounds so tired. “I wish that we could but…”

“But what?”

“You need someone who can appreciate you all the time, someone you deserve. I'm sorry. Just, don't forget me, okay?”

“Fàbio? Fàbio! What does that mean?”

His answer is a disconnected call.

-

It is sunny.

The blond sits in the physio room. He looks out at his teammates training through the large windows, itching to get out there. He groans in frustration as he works his foot, knowing that the road to recovery would be long and arduous.

Once he finishes his session he heads over to the locker room. Everyone else has left, since Harvey starts his physio training later and so ends later than the other healthy lads.

When he opens his phone, he peruses through his notifications until one in particular stands out.

Missed call - Fàbio (38 minutes ago)

Without thinking, Harvey calls him back.

Fàbio picks up on the third ring.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Harvey snorts at the ridiculousness of it all. Anger fills his tone as he remembers their last conversation, back during preseason, right before Fàbio had blocked him and refused to talk to him again. “What do you want?”

“Are you okay? I heard the injury was bad…”

Harvey's anger dissipates at Fàbio's worried tone. “I'm fine,” he says. “Will be out for a few months but nothing too damaging.”

Through the speaker, he can hear Fàbio breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Fàbio,” Harvey calls.

“Yeah?”

“I still love you, y'know? Even though you're a dickhead.”

“I-” Harvey can hear Fàbio take a deep breath. “I still love you too. Cutting you off was dumb.”

“‘Course it fucking was,” Harvey snaps. He pinches his nose, trying to release all his anger out on anything but Fàbio. “Just talk to me, Fàbio.”

“I don't have training on Thursday,” Fàbio mumbles, a silent invitation hidden behind his words.

Harvey nods, more as an affirmation to himself than Fàbio, who can't see him. “Okay, just. No more hiding behind phones, okay? We need to talk.”

“Okay,” Fàbio responds. “I can do that. Talking.”

-

Harvey shuffles his feet outside of Fàbio’s apartment door in Brentford, minding his foot brace. He raises his hand to knock, only to put it down. He rests his head against the door and gathers up all his courage. He straightens up and raises his hand to finally knock when the door swings open, revealing a very surprised Fàbio, looking so soft in a pair of old grey sweatpants – are those his? – and a black hoodie.

Before Harvey can get out a single word Fàbio throws his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. Harvey slowly wraps his arms around the Portuguese in return and his shoulders sag, all the tension leaving him.

They stand there in the hallway, hugging, until one of Fàbio’s neighbours coughs and raises a pointed raised eyebrow at them. They both chuckle awkwardly at the interruption and fumble their way into Fàbio’s apartment, vacating the hallway.

Harvey makes himself at home on the couch in the living room, looking around Fàbio’s place. A PS5 and gaming setup was the only personality. A lot of white and modern architecture, although not very spacious. Muted greys and beige colours - none of this was Fàbio. Fàbio was back at home, with him, in their shared apartment still decorated with pictures of the two of them, despite how painful it had been to look at them.

Fàbio busies himself with making a cup of tea, his movements slow. They both know that they’re only delaying the inevitable.

Harvey keeps silent and allows Fàbio to work himself up to a conversation, but once the kettle whistles and Fàbio pours the hot water into his mug, he speaks.

“Why did you cut me off?”

Fàbio sighs, placing the mug down. He leans against the counter rather than joining Harvey on the couch, which hurts him just a little bit. “I was scared,” he says, rubbing his elbow. “I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.”

Harvey stands up and walks over to Fàbio, staring at his face, looking into those eyes that had previously shied away from him.

“I will always want you,” Harvey says, placing a hand on Fàbio’s cheek. The Portuguese leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. “Even if we were playing on different sides of the world.”

Fàbio huffs out a little chuckle. “You're so corny.” A smile graces his lips, and Harvey can't stop himself from staring at them.

“I'll be anything as long as I get to be with you,” Harvey murmurs, before swooping in.

Kissing Fàbio always feels like drowning. Tasting his lips, diving into the slick heat and plunging deeper and deeper, going until he could no longer breathe.

Fàbio’s hands move to his neck, wrapping tight around him, pulling him closer like he was a buoy at shore, his only anchor. 

When they pull away, a small string of saliva connects them, quickly disappearing. They leave their eyes closed, simply breathing in each other in the stillness of the room.

“You should move back in with me.”

“Okay.”

And suddenly, it all feels so simple.

[football-and-fanfics]

Forgotten - Fabio Carvalho

Who: Fabio Carvalho Request: let's say, fabio is on his way to training or something and he forgets his wallet/phone/etc and y/n notices and runs behind him before he leaves and is like "hey, you forgot something!" and fabio turns around and kisses them and y/n blushes and holds up the item; "i actually meant this, but thank you" Requested by: anonymous Warnings: none

Fabio had overslept quite spectacularly. If he hurried he would still make it to training in time, so he was flying about the house. He hurried around, trying to get his shoes on on the run, and wolf down a quick breakfast while getting dressed. "I'm off, see you tonight!" Fabio just called out the goodbye, before sprinting out the door. You meant to answer, but already heard the door shut behind him. You chuckled to yourself at Fabio's absolute determination not to be late to training. It was a perfect example of his drive and dedication to the club and the team.

Suddenly, your eye caught something lying on the kitchen counter. Upon closer inspection you found it were Fabio's phone and wallet. You hadn't heard him drive away yet, so there might still be time to go after him. "Wait!" You rushed out the front door, just as Fabio made to drive away. "You forgot something!" Fabio immediately got out of his car, the cheekiest smile playing on his lips. "Of course, how could I forget?" He waited until you were right in front of him, before cupping your face between his hands and pressing an eager kiss to your lips. "Uh, wow... thanks," you mumbled a little flustered, surprised at this sudden fiery kiss he had given you. "I actually meant this." You held up his phone and wallet. "Oh," Fabio chuckled, "I guess I forgot those, too, but they're not as important as you."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @scuderiavettcl Liverpool tags: @berrydoughnuttruth, @candlelitutopia PL tags: @ella33 Add me to the tags list, too!

[live-laugh-loverpool]

LFC Headcanons--Part 2

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Baby of the squad for years

Liked Robbo from the start and never stopped

Was friends with Harvey for a while, but they've been growing apart

Hendo, Milly and Adam used to overprotect him, but stopped after a while

Mainly sticks to Hendo when going on England duty

Steals Robbo’s hoodies and rarely (if ever) returns them

Nobody can resist his puppy eyes, not even Klopp

Looks like an innocent angel but is perfectly capable of chaos

Often suffers from insecurity and only Robbo, Milly and Hendo can dig him out of his mind

Loves swimming and the water

He still has posters of LFC idols in his room at home

Can be sulky and ill-tempered for no reason

Plays April Fools’ Day tricks with Robbo on his teammates, and is excellent at it

Besides the newcomers (Darwin, Fabio, Arthur, Calvin and Ben), Milly, Klopp and Virg are the only ones he hasn’t pranked

Likes Ali's facial hair and was disappointed when he shaved it

He and Milly are the only ones who can cheer up Robin

Tries to “grow out” of hugs and cuddles and  “soft things” but never succeeds

Joe Gomez

Is often called a “member of the Jackson 5” by his teammates, due to his huge Afro

Hates lemonade and nobody can convince him otherwise

Sticks with the other centerbacks

Watches romantic comedies in secret

Loves anything ginger-flavored (except ginger-flavored lemonade)

Nothing on his Spotify playlist is pre-2010s

Unashamed Motown nerd

Nat Phillips

Idolizes Milly and acts as his second in command

No-nonsense guy

Will blow off any extra steam in the gym

Taki taught him tae kwon do

Plays golf with Alex, Robbo and Milly

Doesn’t have a Spotify playlist

Fabio Carvalho

Is best friends with Harvey and good friends with Lucho

Team calls him Fabio so they don’t confuse him with Fabinho

Loves carbs and will eat them any chance he gets

His favorites are cranberry muffins and arepas rellenos

Spotify playlist is a collection of Disney and Pixar songs

Has a stuffed kinkajou named Vivo

Wears Andes-style knitted hats in winter

Gets cold easily and bundles his shirtsleeves around his hands

Talented dancer and often dances with Harvey

Finds ice cream with nuts disgusting, yet he will eat ice cream and nuts separately

Hopeless at board games, billiards and darts

Harvey Elliott

Best friends with Fabio and Lucho; good friends with Curtis

Often snaps back at Merlin’s sarcastic retorts; the two are currently in a three-month-long feud

Close with Trentski, but the two have been drifting apart

Is rather mouthy, and his big mouth often gets him into trouble

Is not afraid to be snarky to the others

Generally cheerful even in the worst-seeming situations

Fieriest of the youngsters

Knows how to bake pretty well

Bonded with Lucho shorted after meeting him and had no problem communicating with him

His Spotify playlist is a combination of easy listening, Disney songs, and heavy metal

Rap aficionado; he has a whole book on it

Uses mind maps to make his plans

Will kick somebody’s butt before making sure that the person is the culprit

Fabio and Lucho call him Harvito sometimes

Not exactly the most emotionally-intelligent, and this also gets him into situations sometimes

Was an underachiever; Hendo and Milly fixed that

Does not like escargot (snails)

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Dear Santa,

For Christmas, I would really like a cookbook so I can learn how to bake tasty cakes. And Vivo, my stuffed kinkajou, wants a gold scarf. Please?

Thank you,

Fabio Carvalho

[football-and-fanfics]

Two players have been added to my Who I Write For list. They are: Reece James and Fabio Carvalho.

You can now make your requests for them (or for any other of the players I write for😉😉) through this form