#fc Bayern

[planetpedri]

Ur so pretty — Jamal Musiala.

Pairing: Jamal Musiala x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jamal was your first love and with that came the fear of abandonment. But, Jamal was here to stay and he made sure you knew that.

Word count: 890+

Disclaimer/s: light angst , comfort , and mostly fluff !

A/N: this is my literal wife like im in love w him also listened to a lot of ‘ur so pretty’ by waisa project when i was writing this so. yeah.

When you and Jamal met for the first time, you were accompanying your friend on a double date. You weren’t looking for love or anything close to that but your friend was nervous and needed the comfort of your presence.

The problem lied in the fact that you had never dated before. Sure, you’d been on dates, but nothing had ever surpassed that singular date.

Jamal had swept you off your feet—literally. He wasn’t looking where he was going and tripped you. You’d nearly fallen on your face when he caught you, arms wrapping around your waist so he could hoist you back up.

The moment your eyes met you felt an unfamiliar warmth gather in the pit of your stomach, nerves rattling your body. He made you nervous in a weird way you’d never felt before.

It had taken two weeks for him to contact you again, and you were waiting.

Now, six and a half months later, you were dating—had been for four months now.

Sitting on the couch in his living room, you patiently waited for him to get home. He was training late today, so you’d opted for making dinner and sticking it in the fridge for him to heat up when he got home. The TV played a show you recently started; ‘Scandal’, which you were so engrossed in you didn’t realize Jamal had arrived.

He stood in the entry way, watching you curiously with a grin. He liked to watch you when you weren’t aware of him—not in a creepy way, he just loved to see you when you weren’t conscious of people and relaxed.

He’d been standing there for too long so he knew the second he spoke you’d spook. So instead he slips back out the door as quietly as possible, opening it and calling out for you, “i’m home!”

You turned around with a wide smile, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. “Hey! Hi, how was practice? Dinner is in the fridge!”

“Practice was fine, exhausted though. What’d you make?” Jamal asks, wondering into the kitchen where you meet him. He pulls you into a hug, pressing his lips to yours.

Smiling into the kiss, you mumble, “some healthy crap, your dietician would be very pleased with it.”

Jamal pulls away with a breathy laugh, “you can just make something we both like, i’ll just hit the gym extra hard later on.”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. I already made my own delicious food. That healthy stuff, that is only for you.”

Moving to the fridge you open it, taking out the food, and placing it on the counter. “You may heat it up while I make myself a smoothie.”

Jamal’s arms wrap around your waist, your back pressing against his as he places a few kisses on your shoulder. One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. He hadn’t always been so touchy, but he made more of an effort when he learned about your doubts in your relationship.

Although those concerns had dwindled, he hadn’t strayed an inch. He comforted you with everything, he said the sweetest things. Essentially, he went above and beyond to prove that what he felt for you was not going away and time soon—if ever.

“Go make your food.” You giggle, wiggling out of his grasp. “I need my smoothie.”

“You and your smoothies.” Your boyfriend tittered. “Is it Strawberry or—“ You give him a look that has his lips twitching, “right. Why do I even bother asking.”

Reaching for strawberries in the freezer, you smirk. “Exactly. Have I ever told you how much I love and adore your full fridge and freezer? You always have everything.”

“Yeah, well, I try.”

As the microwave hums while heating up Jamal’s food, you prepare to make your smoothie. Conversations flow between the two of you even as he eats and the whirring of the blender—which you stop every few moments to add to the conversation.

“How’s your show? By the way?”

Your face lightens up, “so good. I’m on season two right now. When I finish the whole show, i’m forcing you to watch it.” Your finger points in his direction with a teasing tip of your lip.

Jamal’s eyebrows raise, “oh? Well, anything for you.” His words brings a prideful smile to your face.

“And this is why I love you!” You quip, your smug look falling the second you comprehend what you said. Too early. Too—

Jamal’s expression doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes flicker up to you. “I love you, too.”

Oh! Thats a comfort. Sort of?

“Was that too early? I should’ve waited.” You swallow thickly. You watch as he slips off the stool he was sitting on, wiping his hands on his pants, and walks around the counter to reach your side.

“It’s perfect timing, actually.” He assures, his hands cupping your jaw to pull you into a loving kiss. “I. Love. You.” He mumbles each time he pulled away.

A dreamy sigh leaves your lips, “you are so fortunately—for me, perfect.”

The taller man smiles, “and i’m so fortunately, your boyfriend.” Your heart grows three sizes as you meet his eyes. Any lingering doubt or insecurity you held about the future of your relationship died with that kiss and his words.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby

[sp1nnenlilie]

Kimmich: 🙂👍👍

Leon being a whole mood

[leonsliga]

📸: Leon signing autographs for fans | FC Bayern training | 19.11.2024

[trulyhblue]

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

_______________________

Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. ���Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

[semifinaldraw]

i carry your image always in my head folded and yellowed and torn at the edge

[football-sucks]

why does willingly watching your sports team feel like a punishment

[elishamanning]

"Thomas Müller, as ever, Radio Müller."

[httpsdana]

Heeyy!! Could u do a jamal musiala with promt 94 where he breaks up with reader (like they've been together since they were teens 🤭) because he wants "focus" on his career (he was actually just stressed 💀) but later on he REALLY regrets it and ask the reader to take him back with promt 28 and 54

One Last Chance~Jamal Musiala

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

enjoy this <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

28-"Don't you ever do that again

"54-"can I kiss you?"

Jamal sat at the edge of his bed, head in his hands, the quiet of the room wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. The weight of everything – football, the endless expectations, the noise from the media – it had all become too much.

y/n had always been there for him, always supporting him, always by his side since the two of them were teenagers. Yet, he felt overwhelmed, lost in the chaos of trying to be the perfect footballer, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect everything.

She was perfect, though. She’d been his anchor when everything around him seemed so unstable. But lately, he found himself retreating, thinking that if he could just have some space, maybe the weight would lift.

That thought had festered until he convinced himself that the only way he could truly focus on his career was if he pushed y/n away.

That’s how he found himself on the verge of the biggest mistake of his life.

He looked up when her entered the room. Her soft smile faded when she saw the pained expression on his face, and she instantly came to his side, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.

"Jamal, what’s wrong?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

He swallowed hard, knowing what he was about to say was going to shatter her.

“I... I think we need to break up,” he forced the words out, his throat tight, chest heavy with the weight of his lie.

Her hand froze on his shoulder, and her expression crumbled into confusion.

"What? Jamal, why... why would you say that?" She crouched in front of him, her eyes searching his face desperately for an explanation that made sense.

“I just need to focus on my career right now. Football’s getting intense, and I don’t think I can balance everything” he continued, hating himself more with every word.

“But Jamal, we’ve always made it work,” she replied, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“We’ve been through so much together. I can be there for you, like I always have. You don’t have to do this.”

The look in her eyes almost made him break. But he kept his resolve, believing that this would help him focus, that she deserved someone who didn’t carry the stress of the world on his shoulders. He couldn’t bear to drag her through it all.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I need this.”

The silence that followed was crushing. y/n stared at him in disbelief, her heart breaking right in front of him. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, standing up and stepping back, as if the distance could somehow shield her from the pain.

“Fine,” she said, her voice stronger than he expected, though he could see the devastation in her eyes. “If that’s what you want, Jamal, then... then I won’t stand in your way.”

She turned and left the room, leaving him sitting there, alone. As soon as she was gone, the silence became unbearable, the regret already gnawing at him. But he stayed there, convincing himself it was the right thing to do. He needed to focus, needed to prove to himself – and the world – that he was good enough.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Months passed, and in those months, Jamal realized just how much of a mistake he had made. At first, he threw himself into football, into training, hoping that the ache in his chest would go away. But it never did. Every time he returned to an empty apartment, every time he found himself alone with his thoughts, it hit him like a tidal wave.

y/n wasn’t there. The one constant in his life, the one person who had loved him unconditionally, was gone. And it was his fault.

He missed everything about her – her laugh, her smile, the way she always knew how to calm him down when the pressure got too much. He thought cutting her off would ease his stress, but all it did was leave him feeling hollow.

The final straw came one night after a particularly grueling match. He had played well, but the win felt empty. As he scrolled through his phone aimlessly, his thumb hovered over her contact.

He hadn’t reached out since the breakup, convincing himself that he needed to let her move on. But now, as he stared at her name, he couldn’t stop himself from texting.

“Can we talk?” he typed out, his heart pounding in his chest as he hit send.

To his surprise, she responded quickly.

“There’s nothing left to talk about, Jamal.”

The coldness of her response hit him like a punch to the gut. She was done, and he deserved it. But he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let go of the one person who made him feel whole.

“Please, just give me a chance. I made a mistake,” he sent, desperate now.

There was a long pause before her next message.

“Fine. Come over tomorrow evening.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

When Jamal arrived at y/n's door the next evening, his heart was racing. He hadn’t seen her in months, hadn’t heard her voice except in his memories. But as soon as she opened the door, all the regret, all the pain came flooding back.

She looked... different. Stronger, maybe. But he could see the hurt lingering in her eyes, the walls she had built up since he had shattered her heart.

“Come in,” she said, her voice neutral as she stepped aside to let him in.

He followed her into the living room, his heart heavy. y/n sat down, crossing her arms, clearly waiting for him to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry. I thought pushing you away would help me focus, but all it did was make me realize how much I need you. How much I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “How much I love you.”

Her expression softened for a moment, but the pain remained in her eyes.

“Jamal, you broke my heart,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “You didn’t even give me a chance to understand what was going on with you. You just... left.”

“I know,” he whispered, shifting closer. “I was stressed, and I handled it the worst way possible. I should have leaned on you, talked to you, but I didn’t. And I regret it every single day.”

y/n didn’t say anything, and the silence between them was suffocating. Desperation clawed at him, and before he could stop himself, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

y/n looked at him, the vulnerability in his eyes breaking down some of the walls she had put up.

“Jamal...” she started, but she didn’t pull away when he closed the distance between them.

His lips brushed against hers tentatively, as if he was afraid she might push him away. But when she didn’t, he deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of regret, every apology into it.

When they finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry" he murmured, his voice deep in regret and guilt

“Don’t you ever do that again,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“I won’t,” he promised, his hands trembling as they cupped her face. “I swear, I won’t.”

Tears spilled down y/n's cheeks, and he wiped them away gently, pulling her into his arms. They both sat there for what felt like hours, holding each other tightly, the weight of the past months falling away.

She wasn’t sure if things would be easy from here, if the trust could be rebuilt. But for now, in his arms, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of healing.

[milfneuer]

if real madrid has a million haters, then i am one of them. if real madrid has ten haters, then i am one of them. if real madrid has only one hater then that is me. if real madrid has no haters, then that means i am no longer on earth. if the world loves real madrid, then i am against the world.

[lauriel816]

It's a 15-year marriage mate

From the latest Q&A with Thomas

[pixiesfz]

Crush. My. Head. With. Your. Thighs. pretty please

[totaly-obsessed]

Hardersson Appreciation

Request a player | with @alotofpockets

[meazalykov]

acts of service

sydney lohmann x bayern!reader

summary: you and your girlfriend's love languages revolve around words of affirmation and acts of service

opening your eyes, you took a few moments to move your head up. seeing that the orange retro clock on your bedside table says “6:45 AM”, you smacked your head back onto the soft pillow and closed your eyes. you didn’t need to wake up for another hour. training for the pre-season starts at ten o’clock so you wanted all of the sleep that you could get. 

it wasn’t five minutes until you closed your eyes that you flipped your body to its side. usually, your leg would come into contact with your girlfriend's leg while doing this in the morning. so, when your leg landed onto the soft mattress instead, your eyes shot open-- seeing an open space. 

sydney isn’t the girlfriend that will wake up first in the mornings, its always you. this wasn’t normal, so you moved your tired body to sit up.

your hands moved to rub your eyes before you heard the front door in the apartment close shut from the living room. 

your eyebrows knitted together, knowing that sydney must’ve left to go somewhere or she is coming back from somewhere. she didn’t leave too long ago, as you woke up to use the bathroom at 5:00am and saw sydney sleeping.

as you take the pink comforter off of your body, you hear footsteps approaching the room along with the aroma of your favorite breakfast wafting through the air. 

your legs were on the edge of the bed as sydney stops in the doorway with a surprised look--- she is surprised to see you awake. 

you looked at the brown paper bag in her right hand with suspicion as syd had a grin on her face. in her left hand, sydney held a 2-drink cup carrier with two drinks placed inside of them. 

“baby, did you really just-?” you cut yourself off as you stood up in front of her, surprised at the gesture. you took the drink carrier out of her left hand as she moved to the other side of the large bedroom to grab the two bed trays you guys keep in the closets. 

“yes i did!!” sydney said excitedly, which surprised you because the clock turned to 7am and usually sydney isn’t too energized this early. 

you look down at the two drinks to see two iced lattes. one was a bit darker than the lighter one with strawberry cold foam on top of it. that one is yours, considering that sydney knows your order for the cafe on the corner of the same street you both live on. 

sydney pulls out the food in the bag and you notice both of your favorite orders being sat on the bed trays. 

the german girl usually orders an avocado toast topped with hard-boiled egg and a plain croissant. you get a plain croissant too, along with a plain bagel with light cream cheese. 

the golden morning light filters through the ivory colored curtains, casting a warm glow over both of your features as you start to eat.

"i forgot to tell you good morning, sleepyhead," she starts to speak, her voice a melodic whisper. 

“good morning, early bird,” you joked. this is a joke that started between the both of you even before you guys started a relationship two years ago. 

everytime you woke up before her, which was everyday until this morning, she called you an early-bird because you were fully awake by the time she would wake up. most times, you’d have to force her to wake up with you so you aren’t late to training or games with bayern. 

it looks like the roles switched this morning.

"I thought I'd surprise you when I saw that you were still asleep." sydney blushed as she looked at you sipping on the strawberry latte. it was made perfectly. 

"this tastes amazing, but you’re even more amazing for this," you murmur, placing the iced drink down and stretching your tired arms before smiling at your girlfriend with tons of love in your eyes. "I don't know how you always know exactly what I need."

sydney laughs softly. "it's a gift. now, eat. we've gotta go training soon."

you spend the morning together, savoring each bite and sip. the intimacy of the moment is a reminder of why you love her so deeply. this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, it's almost a weekly thing. most of the time its you going down to the cafe and picking up sydney’s iced hazelnut latte though. 

a week later, shortly after the first game of the season, sydney fell ill. her usual happy energy was diminished by a fever and sore throat. you both share an apartment, so you’re more than prepared and determined to take care of her.

sydney can be a little stubborn. at first, she said she was fine but you made her rest after taking medicine (given by the doctors at bayern) so she will feel better.

its been an hour since she fell asleep in a nap--- you start chores in the kitchen by tackling the dishes piled high in the sink, the clinking of plates and running water calms your mind as your tv in the living room serves as a nice background noise. next, you move on to do the laundry. 

usually, sydney has a huge preference of doing the laundry while you tackle the dishes. both of you share the same clothes in the huge closet in the bedroom– so you chose to do all of the laundry this time to make her life easier. 

in the laundry room– you threw most of the clothes in the washer and looked in the cabinets where you keep the detergents and other things. sydney likes to use the vanilla scented fabric beads for the washer– while you like the fresh clean scented ones– so you chose to use the vanilla beads with the regular laundry detergent. 

you have to come back and do another two loads, considering how much clothes you and sydney own, so you sort out all of the jerseys and training gear, placing them in a pile so you’re prepared to wash those too after the first load is finished.

when you go to check on sydney in the bedroom, you find her awake. she has the tv on and is watching one of her favorite netflix movies. you felt terrible, sydney is shivering and you hated to see your sunshine so miserable while being sick. 

“hey sweetheart.” you sat on the edge of the bed and ran your hands through sydney’s soft, yet tangled, hair. you felt terrible and knew you had to get sydney cleaned up. 

"i know you might not like this but let’s get you cleaned up, sunshine. it might help you feel better." you say softly. due to her sore throat, she can’t speak much without irritation. you understand as you pull the pink comforter off of her body, helping the taller girl stand up as you led her into the bathroom ten steps away. 

you undress the woman who was just settled into a sports bra and shorts before. you take your hands and help her into the shower, supporting her weight as the warm water cascades down her body. 

first, you let her sit down as you started to wash her hair first. this step takes about 20 minutes, since you mainly gave her head massages while cleaning her scalp. after saturating one of your hydrating hair masks into her hair, you helped her stand up in the warm (not hot) shower.

next, you take the antibacterial soap as you started to wash away the sweat and sickness from her body. 

as you take the silicone scrub and clean her body, you rub her back and murmur comforting words, feeling her sick body relax under your touch.

after double cleansing her body with her favorite citrus scented soap, you washed the hair mask out of her hair and helped her sit back down. you plugged the tub and allowed the water to run, adding a few of her favorite essential oils and bubble bath soap that will calm her body and mind. 

you didn’t notice– or care– that your entire front side is soaked. you didn’t get into the shower and bath with her, but you allowed her wet body to hold onto your clothed body. your blue shirt sticks to your front due to how soaked it is, along with your white pajama shorts, but you didn’t care. 

sydney stayed close to the edge of the tub as she held onto you. you sat on your knees outside of the tub and cuddled with your arms wrapped around her body. 

this might’ve been dumb, considering that you can catch her sickness next and miss out on the next game against slavia praha– you couldn’t care less knowing that your sweetheart is sick. 

"you're too good to me," you hear sydney whisper, her voice weak but filled with gratitude as she felt your small kisses on the back of her shoulder.

"you're everything to me syd," you reply, moving your body over so you could kiss her cheek. "i’d do anything for you."

two weeks later– it was the evening on a day off from soccer-related stuff. sydney started to get over her sickness a week prior, so she is back to normal. 

as you both sit in the living room, with you on the floor in-between sydney’s legs on the couch— sydney’s fingers weave through your hair with practiced ease. 

"hold still," she instructed as your head looked up at the TV playing mean girls. the german is concentrating on forming perfect french braids in your hair. you feel her breath against the top of your head, her presence is calming. the gentle tugging and twisting of your hair is almost meditative, each braid giving a symbol of her love and care.

when anybody plays with your hair, your body goes into relaxation. since it's sydney playing with your hair, you could’ve fallen asleep right here. your eyes continue to close and shut as sydney continues to move her fingers in your hair.

"why do you always braid my hair?" you ask softly, smiling at the thought with your eyes closed in relaxation. 

during games for bayern, you’re an attacking midfielder– or a forward if someone is injured– who is considered to be one of the best. 

many pictures taken of you during games capture you with nice french braids in your hair– or with a low ponytail that's braided. sydney is the hairstylist behind those braids which made her so happy seeing you on the pitch with them nicely finished.

"because i love your hair– it's so soft, and i know it makes you relax." she replies simply as she ties together the first braid. 

a month later-- after a particularly harsh game at bayern, with sydney getting into a fight with a ref that gave her a yellow card– you both return home. 

her shoulders are slumped and her eyes are filled with frustration as her mind replayed the moment when she got a yellow card. 

you got a yellow card too earlier in that game, after failing to side tackle a ball– and hitting the wolfsburg forwards ankles instead– but you brushed it off as a mistake. however, you can see the weight of her bad moment pressing down on her. 

in the car and in the locker room you gave her space– now you’re back home. without a word, you wrap your arms around her on the couch, pulling her into a tight embrace. sydney melts into you, her facade cracking as she lets out a shuddering breath.

you held her hand and caressed her face with your fingers. "talk to me," you urge gently. sydney used to have a thing for holding her thoughts inside of her mind until they exploded. now, she is aware that she can talk to you about anything. 

“i’m so mad! the ref saw that she pushed me first, so why did i get the yellow card while she was able to walk away with no consequences.” sydney begins to unload, her words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. 

by “she”, sydney is referring to a wolfsburg defender who pushed her from behind as she tried to pass a ball to you. you listen intently, knowing that sydney is telling the truth. as you watched sydney fall to the ground, all of your teammates ran over to the ref and demanded a foul and yellow card for the player’s action. 

you on the other hand, you ran over to help sydney up from the ground. she acknowledged your support but jogged over to the ref. the conversation was short but got heated quickly. your eyes widened when you saw the ref pull out the yellow card looking at sydney.

as sydney continued to talk, you offered words of reassurance and understanding. sometimes, refs make the calls you don’t like– and all you can do is move on. 

after getting her to calm down by cuddling on the couch and watching the women’s el clasico match on live television, sydney spoke out randomly as the game paused for halftime. 

"y/n, i feel a lot better after talking about what happened. thank you– you're always here for me," she murmurs, her head resting on your shoulder as she gives you a kiss on your neck. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"you don’t have to thank me baby, it's what i love to do– and you'll never have to find out what it's like without me," you promise, stroking her hair. "we're in this together, forever and always."

<3

[leonsliga]

📸: Thomas Müller & Manuel Neuer | FC Bayern München vs. SC Freiburg | 01.09.2024

[miroslavcloset]

[semifinaldraw]

jump the queue