#football fic writers

[cher-rei]

prompt 9 or 10 w pedri 🙏🏼

pack it up- pedri gonzalez [ P.G ]

you and me, always forever [always forever- cults]

pairing: pedri gonzalez x fem!reader

summary: watching the football match with pedri starts off cute, but you've said felix's name one too many times.

genre(s): flufffffff

[wc: 2.5k] masterlist

notes: I changed the plot of this a bunch of times for no reason I swearrr

"amor the match is starting!"

your call had pedri rushing from the kitchen with his hands occupied by the assorted candies that you asked for. he set it down on the coffee table just in time and settled down next to you on the couch, pulling you closer to his side underneath the blanket.

"I can't believe you're making your injured boyfriend run around for some sweets," he said in disbelief and looked down at you, but yours eyes were glued to the tv screen.

this was a match that you couldn't afford to miss, athlético vs barça was not something that anyone took lightly. that's why you prepped a little more for this match than usual and your boyfriend decided to join you at home instead of going to the stadium with the excuse that it was too cold outside.

you didn't complain though, having pedri at home was a gift from heaven but of course you still wished for a speedy recovery and all that... but he was home and got to spend time with you, so it was okay right?

your lack of response had him dumbfounded, he stayed at home for this? he clicked his tongue and faced forward, mumbling about something under his breath but you were quick to shush him.

"shush babe." you softly hit his arm. "you can complain later."

this wasn't the first shocking thing that has happened today at all. just before kick off, you told him that you forgot to put your barca jersey on and rushed to your room which had pedri smiling from ear to ear, thinking that you would be coming out in one of his jerseys.

and oh how wrong he was.

his smile immediately dropped at the sight, not just because it wasn't one of the jerseys he gave you but rather your own, but also because of whose name and number were flaunted at the back.

your boyfriend blinked up at you, and you asked him what was wrong, clearly not seeing an issue. "is there something wrong with my face?" you put your hand to your face, walking over to the mirror hanging on the wall to check but nothing was there.

"uh no," he said through a forced smile. "but there's something wrong with what you're wearing right now."

your head tilted in confusion and you looked down at your outfit, not seeing an issue with it all. your shoulders slumped and you looked at him in confusion. "there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing."

"last time i checked, felix isn't your boyfriend, i am." he pointed to himself for emphasis but you only rolled your eyes at his childishness.

"are you serious right now?" you sat down beside him and he shot you a look of judgment buy your were adamant on not changing.

"last time I checked you're not on the pitch right now, felix is." you gestured to the tv yet pedri remained stubborn, saying that it didn't matter whether or not he was playing or not.

where did you even buy that jersey?? he needed to burn it asap.

he was upset but all it took was a quick peck on the lips to ease his mind, reassuring him that you wanted to give felix some extra support because he was playing against his own club. and that made sense to pedri, the support was needed and it was appreciated.

so for the first 20 minutes of the game, your yelling was held at a minimum but the closer you got to halftime time the more restless you and pedri got. the team's play was just too messy, there was no communication or stability.

the ball was lost every other touch, barca could barely make it past the halfway line and they kept on passing the ball back instead of taking their chances. it was frustrating, to say the least, especially for pedri because he was supposed to be there.

he was supposed to be running on the pitch, ensuring that the midfield wasn't a total wreck but he wasn't. he just had to get injured again. you felt his body tense up beside you and immediately knew what he was thinking.

"hey," you called softly and flashed him a small smile. "are you okay?"

when he looked at you his mind immediately eased— one look and a smile from you and he felt so much better. sure he was bugged about the whole jersey thing but you still looked so adorable cuddled up to him that he forgot about everything.

he gave you a reassuring hum and a kiss on the forehead before turning back to the match. his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, your eyes daring to close but you wouldn't dare tell him to stop.

it was now 35 minutes into game time and nothing had happened which had pedri scoffing. "I think you're jinxing us."

"as if, just you wait," you countered but he wasn't too sure about your answer. it wasn't playing in your favour by the looks of it and he swore that it was your jersey, it had to be and when he told you that it was you shook your head, swearing that felix was going to score.

pedri was still I'm disbelief, shaking his head until you shot up when gundogan got the ball, choosing to pass it to lewandoski who was already in the box. it all happened to fast that you barely saw it, both you and pedri holding on to each other until the ball went into the net, by none other than felix himself.

"let's go felix my boy!!" you leapt from the couch and stood in front of your boyfriend who sat silently in disbelief until it sank in.

he looked up at your smiling face with his eyebrows raised. "your boy?"

you chose to ignore him and pat the barcelona crest on your jersey. "pack it up, lover boy. I called it."

the commentators were going crazy, everything happening so fast but you were still standing in front of the tv with your phone in your hand, happily adding the moment to your instagram story and replying to gavi's message about the goal.

"xavi got a red card," pedri said in hopes of redirecting your attention away from felix and his goal. he was happy for his teammate obviously— he was ecstatic, but not about the part where his girlfriend was celebrating as if he was her boyfriend.

he didn't know why, but he was in a rather jealous mood today. he wasn't the jealous type, and you knew that which was why you couldn't help but tease him with the opportunity given.

you put your phone back down on the coffee table. "I don't care about xavi right now. this is about felix and his redemption. the clubs redemption too-- but mostly felix's."

something about the way you said felix's name made pedri's jaw tick. it was like a broken record sounding from your lips, over and over again until he finally let up and pulled you onto his lap which had you all too amused.

"do you know how many times you've said his name tonight?" he asked with a quirked brow.

you tried to ignore the feeling of his hands trailing up your shirt onto your bare skin. it was so rare to see him this riled up, this adamant because pedri was a baby. your baby, who preferred to be the little spoon and smothered in kisses.

so you couldn't falter. not now.

your shoulders shrugged innocently. "the normal amount."

the normal amount? as if.

that wasn't even remotely close to what he wanted to hear and you felt it in the way he looked at you. the living room was dark— the only source of light being from the tv that you'd lost all interest in because your boyfriend was staring you down.

his eyes dropped from your eyes to your lips and you felt your face heat up in anticipation.

"6 times," he muttered just above a whisper and inches towards you achingly slow, only to pull away at the last second because second half had starterted by the sound of it.

he pat your thigh lightly and set you back down beside him, your body still in shock at the fact that he pulled away before kissing you. you looked up at pedri with your lips slightly parted, not sure of what to say.

"what?" he asked with a chuckle and gestured to the tv. "felix is there not here. you're supposed to be supporting him."

oh so he was playing like that tonight? your boyfriend loved to tease you whenever he got the chance. he was playful sure but this was a tad bit too far for your liking. anyway, you brushed it off and continued to enjoy the game, but with less talking.

not too long after second half started lewandoski was able to make the score 2-0 , and this time pedri was the one to jump up in victory whereas you just watched him. you weren't upset, not by a long shot. if he wanted to play, then you'd join in.

your boyfriend spared you a few glances every so often and noticed the bit of space that was left between you two. he watched you silently and began to wonder what the issue was and when he asked if you were okay, a nod was sent his way.

ten more minutes had passed with little to no words exchanged and he was starting to grow restless, whereas you continued to watch the match unbothered. if there truly was an issue then there was only way to make sure of it.

your hand was free, resting on your thigh so naturally his hand slipped into it but you were quick to pull away and instead bent over to reach for your phone on the coffee table.

it was his turn to be shocked— his lips parting and a scoff of disbelief exiting but you paid no mind and continued to go through your phone, only looking up at the tv when you heard that fermin scored.

"how long are you going to keep this up for?" pedri suddenly asked out of the blue and your best act of nonchalantly confusion and asked him what he meant.

his eyebrows quirked up. "you're not talking at all and when I tried to hold your hand you pulled it away."

you raised your phone into the air, "because I wanted to get my phone--"

"oh so you can hold my hand now then?" there was a twinge of anger in his tone, it was almost unnoticeable but you caught it and carried on with the act and shook your head to the side.

"I'm still using my phone pedro--"

pedri's body tensed up at the name that fell from your lips as if this night couldn't have gotten any more confusing. he turned to face you fully. "what did you just call me?"

you squinted, trying your best to suppress your smile because you knew that he hated it when you said his name. it meant that he was in trouble which was rare so for you to say to so casually had him panicking.

"your name?"

"did I do something wrong? are you going to tell me that you want to sleep in the guest room tonight too?"

he began to get riled up and it was seen in the way that his eyes began to wander and never met yours. he had officially gone into full panic mode which you hadn't expected at all, so now it was your turn to let up the act to try and calm him down.

your hand immediately found his and you urged him to calm down, saying that you were just teasing him. you went on like this for however long, spewing apologies and reassurance because having him upset was the last thing anyone wanted.

that was until you saw his lips curve up ever so slowly. your blood began to boil in the realisation that he wasn't being serious at all and had you feeling as guilty as ever for absolutely no reason. without a second thought, you let go of his hand and hot up from the couch.

pedri couldn't stop smiling, a soft chuckle leaving his lips while he tried to pull you back down but you already had your phone and started walking away. "baby wait," he called out after you but no second glance was spared from your side.

"where are you going?" he watched as the figure began walking up the stairs, each step filled with more irritation than the last but he couldn't push aside how adorable you looked.

you scoffed. "the guest bedroom."

your answer had him running after you in a matter of seconds, his laughter echoing through the house as he called out your name and luckily he caught you at the top of the staircase. pedri's arms wrapped around you but you fought it and tried your best to escape his embrace.

"amor I was only teasing you," he said in between his laughter and spun you around to look at him. the pout on your face had his heartstrings tugging but you only rolled your eyes.

"is it because I didn't kiss you hm?" he asked playfully and leant down to kiss you but you turned your head away from him stubbornly. did that stop him? not in the slightest, because he opted for the next open space— your neck which had you in a fit of giggles.

featherlight kisses trailed from your collarbone to your neck— each kiss more delicate than the last and placed so carefully to the point where you couldn't fight it any longer and admitted defeat.

"okay I said you won," you repeated but he didn't stop, a low hum sounding against your skin instead.

"I haven't won until this," he tugged on the hem of the jersey you were still wearing, felix's name at the back. "is on the floor."

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ catching flights ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

summary: in which it’s way too early to be at the airport

author's note: @judeswhore asked, and I delivered. he was so cute in these pictures too. yeah, I’m slowly going back to writing and I’m in my Jude era.

word count: 406

6 AM.

The sun is just rising as the back and forth keeps going at the airport. In the midst of people running from left to right to catch their plane, you sat on a bench, your feet propped on your suitcase. Your hand rubbed Jude’s cheek as he laid his head on your lap, staring at nothing, eyes hanging low.

“Get some sleep, baby, the flight is in an hour” You spoke in a low, tired voice.

“I can’t, it’s too much going on”

You laughed a bit, watching what was happening around you two. People arguing with staff on one side, others stressing to check their luggage in. Everything your two nosy selfs needed.

“What are they even arguing about ?”

Jude’s face turned the way you looked, squinting his eyes as if he would hear with them.

“She looks like a Karen”

“Yeah, she must have asked for information before, did not understand” Jude figured by looking at the scene.

“And did what they told her wrong” You added to your little scenario. “Now she’s mad screaming at them at 6 in the morning”

Your attention turned to the head on your lap. You always admired Jude when he was sleepy. He looked so calm and peaceful. His eyes were a little glossy and blinked slowly and his lips were in a slight pout. You left a little peck on them, causing a small smile to appear on his face. He pursed his lips as you gave him another one to which he kissed back.

After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, indicating he had fallen asleep. You grabbed your phone and set an alarm for twenty minutes before boarding and closed your eyes too.

Your ringtone awakened you as you instantly turned your alarm off. You stroked Jude’s cheek, waking him up as calm as you could. He got up from your lap, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“You’re ready to go?” Jude asked in a cracking voice. 

You knew he had the best of a nap. You nodded and got up stretching. Maybe a bit too hard since you started to have a leg cramp.

“No, no, no” You sat down quickly as Jude chuckled, already aware of what you were on. He gave you his hand for you to intertwine yours with and grabbed your cabin bags heading to get on your plane.

7:30 Victoria, Seychelles

like and repost for support

masterlist for more

[blueaetherr]

can you write something like this https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMFDdKWHW/ with jude?

thank youu 💕

why wouldn't i?

pairing: jude bellingham x gn!reader [they/them]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where they pull the salt prank on jude

author's note: i would highly suggest watching the tik tok above, kinda(ish) gives context to the direction i took with this fic. enjoy, anon!

If there was one thing to learn about Jude, it was that he was kind, specifically a kind soul. He was careless yet careful and delicate. That, and everything else, was what many others loved about him; that was all that he was. On his good days, on his bad days, on those days where he wasn't provoked by any particular mood, he always came through to be kind—a gem—or simply, someone you wanted to be around if you weren't already.

It wasn't an aim, and it wasn't something that he tried to achieve or reach. That was just Jude, simply put; being kind—someone who would offer you a smile as he passed you, someone who would put others' needs before his own, someone whose hugs were calming and whole—was innate, uniquely something of Jude.

And this, by Jude, was projected to everyone around him. To his family, his friends, his partner, Y/N. From offering a hand when they reached the final step of the stairs to those compliments galore, and his ability to prioritise their peace of mind. His kindness, his pure heart, his personality, it could all stretch beyond wonders to reach Y/N.

But sometimes, or maybe more times than enough, did it go a bit too far or not far enough. For the soft soul he had, his kindness to his Y/N blinded him from potentially saying what needed to be said.

Y/N was setting up their phone when they heard the front door open. "Honey, I'm home!" Y/N laughed at the greeting, one that always remained sweet and adoring in their eyes. It also made them feel bad for the joke they were going to pull on Jude.

"I'm in here!" They called out, covering the spoon of salt with the pasta sauce.

Soon in came Jude, quickly coming by his partner's side and placing on kiss on the side of their head. Pulling away, he soon took notice of all the food in motion. "Oh my, God. You're making my favourite?" His face was beaming beyond one's usual timid happiness. He loved their cooking. It wasn't anything too simple or grand yet in his eyes, everything they made was some culinary excellence, tasting homemade. He couldn't deny any of their meals if he tried. And even if the meals were all too simple, he would remain believing that they were all too amazing.

"Thought you'd like some after training." Y/N shrugged with a small tug on their lips. Appearing somewhat nonchalant was the aim.

"You're amazing for this," he kissed their cheek once and then again, the second one lingering for a moment or two. "Thank you, love."

"It's just a little something. Speaking of," they mentioned as Jude wandered away to get a drink. Motioning to the pasta, they asked, "can you try this for me? I don't know if I put enough salt in it."

He nodded after closing the fridge and taking a drink of water. "Yeah, sure." Jude was always one to volunteer to do taste tests for Y/N before the meal was ready, wanting to make sure everything was all good for everyone else to eat.

"A'ight but careful," they warned as they held out the spoon with the pasta sauce on it. "It might be a bit hot." Chuckling softly as Jude blow on the spoon, they fed him the sauce.

Taking in a small breath, ready to sigh in relief and pure satisfaction, Jude's face quickly contorted. Initially, his facial expression expressed happiness that was wide and modest. But after the sauce rested in his mouth for far longer than it needed to, his face slowly deteriorated as it dropped a bit. He covered his mouth with his fist as he cleared his throat, patting his chest. And yet on his face still remained a smile, one that appeared to be struggling and hurting. But a smile nonetheless; that was his intent anyways.

"So what do you think? Too little, too much?" Besides his facial expressions, they already knew that he wasn't feeling the food, not one bit. There was no oh that's really, really good! What did you put in it this time? There was also no I think I need to try it again just to make sure. His face remained so discombobulated and stressed that they had to contain themself from ruining the fun they were having.

Despite clearly not liking the sauce, despite the awful aftertaste left in his mouth, with his smile—gorgeous and kindly divine—he nodded and spoke, quicker than intended, "Yeah, yeah. It's all good."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, totally. Why wouldn't I?" Jude nodded, and this time with more conviction. If he was able to convince his partner to settle with his opinion, maybe he could then believe his own words. "It's great, like, really good. I mean—" He took another long sip of water; the aftertaste was far too strong and awful. "—maybe I would put a bit less salt in it. But other than that," he shrugged as his smile returned to his features. That struggle and hurt from before had faded for the most part. "it was great, loved it, really."

"And you're sure about that?"

Jude noticed a smirk slowly settling across their lips, making his smile falter a bit. "Of course! Why wouldn't I—" His mouth fell open when he noticed the phone hidden by the knife rack. "No way! Why though?" He complained as he playfully shoved his partner who was in a small fit of laughter. The fact that he soon noticed the salt on the kitchen island behind them also didn't sit well with him, like he allowed himself to get played.

"It's just a bit of fun!" Calming down, sometime later or sooner, Y/N exhaled deeply as they got out their final laughs. "Why did you lie about that?"

"I feel like I have no room to judge your cooking skills with the ones I have," Jude admitted. He didn't cook or bake for them on the regular like Y/N did for him. If it wasn't them cooking or baking in the house, it was his mom, or their mom, or their sisters—honestly, anyone but him, even takeout beat him to it. It wasn't that he didn't try or that he was incapable in the kitchen. It was just for the best if he wasn't the one cooking. If there were other options than Jude then it would be for the better for everyone.

"Still though," they sighed, nudging him, "One day, which I hope never comes, I could accidentally do something wrong and you might just accept it."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, causing Y/N to laugh and Jude soon followed suit. And that was his denial voicing itself. They were right, and their friends were right; Jude was far too kind to criticise Y/N in any way, so much that he would accept their harmless mistakes without complaint. He wandered around the kitchen, aimlessly, "So if it actually doesn't taste like that, you think I could," shyly, Jude pointed to the pasta casserole, "you know?"

They couldn't help but roll their eyes, letting out a scoff. The appetite was still there and probably would remain for time to come. "Sure, why not?"

Offering him a small spoon of pasta sauce, making sure that it wasn't too hot, Y/N fed him the food. And there it all was, so clear and outstanding. His face grew with stunning delight, his eyes grew large with satisfaction as he dropped his head back, humming low. And there it was, that darling, darling smile of his, all at the cause of a sauce that Jude, personally, believed was cooked to perfection.

"You think I could try more of that?"

"Get changed, then we'll talk."

part 2

[abcwordsurge]

alright guys, help me out. I'm writing a fic with a background that mostly revolves around football games. I don't know a lot about football, but I do know that a touchdown is worth 6 points. I know that, in the actual historical football game I am using, one of the teams got 6 touchdowns. I know that 6 times 6 is 36. so HOW, in GOD'S NAME, did they end up with 34 POINTS.

[swoonworthy]

i just saw something that said "one thing that makes me immediately wary of someone is dismissiveness. when people dismiss others' opinions, feelings, or experiences without consideration, it shows a lack of respect and empathy. it feels like their perspective is the only one that matters, which can be off-putting and alienating and usually the root of many other issues."

and phew :')

[lustrexia]

Intro to my blog — TRIGGER WARNING: nsfw content, dark content, highly explicit.

Hi! ──★ ˙ ̟🐇 !! I’m basorexia or tai

I’ve decided to create this blog for writing and inspiration purposes about Men’s Football RPF, as I’m an ao3 writer. I usually only write about explicit and dark themes, with both reader and mlm couples! Basically an average barça gooner account lmfao.

• ENG/SPA! 🇦🇷

• @B4SOREXIA on AO3.

¡¡BFY INTERACT: I do NOT write about minors in any way whatsoever. I don’t encourage you to interact with this blog if you’re currently a minor, please refrain from messaging me or interacting with me directly if you’re underage, I talk and write about sexual themes in this blog. If you feel uncomfortable, please feel free to block this account so my content doesn’t clog your timeline.

I know I can’t stop you from reading what I write, so please be safe and act mindful of the type of space you’re putting yourself into.

• Feel free to question the purpose of the porn I write and ask anything you would like to know about why or how, just be respectful. I will not answer any disrespectful asks, I’ll just block you, please be kind on the asks! I promise you I’m a big softie w this community ^^. This is a safe space for any opinions and requests, as long as you’re respectful <3.

I repeat, I’m not going to give you a platform on here to hate or be disrespectful towards me or the people that I interact with; this is a safe space for respectful discussions and smut!

— Kinks that I’m into ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

tw: mentions of sa, violence.

• Any type or sub-genre of Consensual Non Consent (CNC): Rape Play, Sonmophilia, Predicament Play, Drug Sex, etc.

• Age Play, Daddy/LittleBoy (DDLB), Age regression, Corruption Kink, Daddy Kink w Daddy Issues, Age difference.

• Size Kink, Breeding Kink, BDSM, Dom/Sub, Violent Sex, Public sex, Puppy Play. Pet Play. Boypussy, ABO.

I basically write just about anything kinky and dark, don’t be afraid to request anything that’s considered intense or a little bit deranged, I love that!

AO3 MASTERLIST

— PAIRINGS I WRITE FOR

• Pablo Martín Páez Gavira/Anyone.

• Pedro González López/Anyone

• Most Barça men pairings.

• Fermín López Marín/Anyone.

• Jude Bellingham/Anyone.

• Golden Age Barça Players pairings (Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets, Cesc, Puyol, Piqué, Leo Messi…)

• Most footballers.

— I write reader inserts too! Male or female <3!

[maisonbelligavi]

Bellingham is mad exhausted

BelliGavi Fic Drabble

Summary: Jude is physically exhausted, mentally drained and his shoulder hurts like a bitch.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gavi being the bestest boyfriend in the world, Jude being his spoilt big baby

Gavi has always been of the opinion that his boyfriend’s apartment was lifeless in a way that contradicted his personality. Jude was as warm as the sun, having him in your life automatically brightened it, and your world was painted with nothing but the most vivid of colors.

His luxurious apartment located in the heart of Madrid reflected none of Jude’s best qualities, as far as Gavi was concerned. It was as modern as they come, minimalist, and decorated with boring as-heck monochrome colors. Gavi hadn’t honest to God known there were this many shades of gray, but he’s learned alright.

Suffice it to say, he had a love/hate relationship with the apartment. By virtue of it being the place where Jude lived, it has become a safe space. As much as the charcoal gray couch irritated him, it also happened to be the piece of furniture where he and Jude would settle in for hours, either making out, playing games or just cuddling after their respective grueling schedules.

As much as he held the opinion that the kitchen was depressingly morose, he and his obnoxious boyfriend were always in it, trying to figure out complex recipes they had no business attempting to cook in the first place. There were days they ended up with somewhat edible dishes, other times, their only viable option would be to order in.

As he used his key card and let himself in at the present moment, his gaze darted everywhere as it always did when he stepped into the living room, his eyes narrowing in displeasure. Within seconds, the place was already redecorated in his head. It was a game he liked to play that always took away his irritation.

He registered how quiet the place was as he proceeded to Jude’s bedroom. He hadn’t exactly told his boyfriend he was coming over. It was meant to be a surprise as Jude had informed him yesterday that he had a couple of free days. Also, he’d clocked how exhausted the older boy sounded and Gavi knew he had to come over and check on him.

Jude hadn’t necessarily complained, but then he rarely did. Getting him to actually open up about his physical or mental state over a phone call was next to impossible. But then the second he set eyes on Gavi; it became a completely different case. He clung to him, whined about every little thing like the big baby he was.

So, it came as no surprise to Gavi when he walked into the unnecessarily large master bedroom and found Jude buried under his pristinely white bed covers. He was lying on his stomach, one side of his face resting on a fluffed-up pillow. His iPad lay beside him, some song Gavi wasn’t familiar with playing on YouTube.

Jude seemed to pay it no mind though, his gaze was vacant, fixated on his closet which was at the far opposite end of the room. The expression on his face was stony, and Gavi had to bite back a grin as he knelt on the side of the bed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his boyfriend’s head, playing with the short hair. He didn’t know what it was about an aggressively sulking Bellingham that endeared him to the older boy.

Gavi continued to stare at his boyfriend from his kneeling position, softly playing with his hair.

Meanwhile, Jude refused to spare him a glance, still finding his closet a lot more interesting subject to stare at.

Gavi realized that he was dealing with a code-red situation. Yeah, Bellingham was in full-blown brat mode alright.

“Baby,” Gavi called out softly, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Jude responded by making a sound that seemed to be a bridge between a growl and a rumble.

“Baby, I’m afraid I don’t speak caveman,” Gavi said, biting back a wayward laugh. “Let’s try again, yeah? But with actual words this time.”

“Mad,” Jude grunted.

“Why are you mad?” Gavi’s hand traveled lower and his fingers circled the back of Jude’s neck, squeezing lightly, causing Jude’s eyes to slip shut momentarily.

“Mad exhausted,” Jude said through gritted teeth, his speech still very much garbled.

“Wait, are you super exhausted or are you mad because you’re exhausted?”

“Both.”

Gavi couldn’t hold it in any longer. He began laughing, his head resting on the edge of the bed as Jude finally deemed him worthy of a nasty glare. “You’re such a big baby, Bellingham,” Gavi said, tone dripping with fondness. “A spoilt princess through and through.”

Jude made another unintelligible sound, gaze darkening as though he was trying to murder Gavi using telekinesis.

“I thought we already established that I don’t speak caveman.” Gavi climbed on the bed, sitting Indian-style next to his sulking boyfriend. “Is something else the matter?”

Jude nodded but didn’t elaborate.

“It’s your shoulder, isn’t it?” Gavi enquired, placing his hand on the body part in question.

“Shoulder,” Jude confirmed with a nod. He let out a series of ah’s as Gavi’s fingers pressed into the sore muscles.

“Took your painkillers?”

“Yup.”

“You do know you can’t keep this up, right?” Gavi said, tone soft and laden with concern. “Jude, you need surgery.”

More undecipherable noises followed and Gavi merely shook his head, chuckling. “I am guessing that’s a hard no. How about a massage? I can help out with one.”

Another nod was the only thing Gavi got as a reply.

“Alright then,” he said, jumping off the bed.

He grabbed the essentials and got to work, humming along to the current song playing from Jude’s iPad. The YouTube app was still streaming and he hadn’t bothered to close it.

As his expert fingers kneaded into flesh, digging into especially sensitive spots, Jude kept letting out these disgruntled sounds and Gavi kept apologizing and promising it would soon be over.

“There, all done,” Gavi said in an overly cheerful tone, clapping in good measure. When he saw the way Jude winced at his display of high energy, it only made him grin.

Gavi took off his jacket and finally slipped under the covers, ready to cuddle his boyfriend. He didn’t have to ask whether Jude wanted to be the little spoon. In his current mood, that went without saying.

So Gavi laid on his side and pulled Jude’s larger frame into his body, with no help at all from the older boy. Which was no small feat. Jude Bellingham was anything but light.

“I swear if I didn’t love you as much as I do, I’d have dumped your spoilt ass, like yesterday.”

Somehow, this was the thing that made Jude burst into a series of giggles as he fitted himself snugly into Gavi’s body.

“Oh, so you’re laughing now, huh?” Gavi glared at the exasperating British boy in his arms, watching the wayward smile playing at the corners of his lips. “We’re now going to stream K-pop songs by the way, and I don’t want to hear a single word of protest from you.”

After they spent an hour consuming the stunning visuals and highly energetic choreos of idols, Jude finally uttered a complete sentence.

“Gavira, I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“Do you think someone can drop dead from fatigue?” Jude said, tone rough from lack of use. “Like, how much exhaustion do you think the human body can take before it shuts down?”

This gave Gavi pause, he thought about the sheer number of games Jude has played ever since he joined Madrid, how he’s been pushing his body beyond the limit in each one, how he’s hyper-conscious of how much Madrid are depending on him, the immense trust placed on shoulders that badly needed a breather.

Gavi grabbed his face by the jaw and tilted it in his direction. He placed a quick kiss on his forehead, the tip of his nose, and each of his cheeks. By the time he got to his lips, Jude was smiling through the lingering kiss.

“I know it feels impossibly heavy sometimes,” Gavi murmured, gaze intense on his face, “but that never means you can’t carry it. Do you hear me?”

Jude nodded, “I hear you,” he whispered, and then they were kissing some more, cocooned in the intimacy of the moment.

It made Gavi think, perhaps Jude was exhausted enough that he could get him to finally agree. Well, it was at least worth a shot.

“Baby, this amazing concept just popped into my head—”

“Not fucking happening, Gavira.”

“But Juuuuuuude…”

“In case I didn’t make myself clear over the last two hundred times we’ve had this conversation—” Jude took a meaningful pause to kiss away his boyfriend’s pout, “—my apartment is getting a makeover by you over my cold stinking corpse.”

[esneullert]

so i tried to write something for @miroslavcloset ‘s fictober just for fun

10/07 “The media keeps posting about us.”

wirtziala, background neuller because i had to

It is true that Florian Wirtz and Jamal Musiala give an excellent performance together on the German national team. It is also very true that the two of them have become close friends during the Euros. So, the media doesn’t pass up on the opportunity.

They’re on vacation together, and Flo is posting their selfie on his Instagram stories.

“How do you feel about the fact that lately they’ve been, like, shipping us?” Jamal asks. “Kind of annoying, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, I mean, it does feel like too much attention. But it’s kinda fun?” Flo answers as he presses send.

“Yeah, I guess it is”, Jamal agrees, and hits like instantly.

Getting over Germany’s loss is relatively easy for them since they realize they still have all the time ahead of them. It isn’t easy, though, to get over the fact they won’t be seeing each other often as the season starts.

They send each other good luck texts before each match of their respective teams; when confronted about watching Bayern matches on his phone in Leverkusen’s locker room, Wirtz comes up with something like I need to study Kompany’s tactics since we’re playing against them soon; in reality, he misses Jamal a lot.

They’re excited to be reunited during the next international break.

When the Bayern part of the squad is back in Munich after the break, they meet up for coffee with their teammates to catch up on things; Jamal is on his phone pretty much the whole time.

“Look, the media is all about us again”, Flo texts him and sends a link.

Somewhere in the background, Kimmich is jokingly complaining about how he’s not used to the fact that ter Stegen isn’t a sweeper keeper and Neuer just laughs; Jamal isn’t really listening. He opens the link and it’s a video of their goal in the latest Nations League match captioned as #wusiala.

“You really miss him, do you?” The question catches him off guard.

He looks up from the screen. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Wirtz, obviously.”

“Oh”, he realizes his teammates noticed. “Well, yeah, I do”, he admits, “that’s what friends do?”

“I know being on rival teams isn’t easy”, Thomas says. “Reminds me of when I was your age, I had a major crush on Schalke’s keeper”, with that, he winks at Neuer.

“No, it’s not like that.” Jamal protests instinctively, but it suddenly hits him that it’s exactly like that. “So what came out of it?”

“He’s Bayern’s keeper now”, Manu states. “I’m not opposed to buying Wirtz though, if that’s one way to solve it.”

“Wait, you guys are…?”

Jamal proceeds to tell Flo what he just found out. “With how they were always attached by the hip on the national team I’m not surprised”, he gets a reply.

Maybe that could be us, he wants to text back, but doesn’t.

Maybe the media isn’t all that wrong about them.

Eventually, and inevitably, the day comes when they have to play against each other. It’s their first time doing so as best friends, and no matter how happy they are to see each other, for the next 90 minutes they have to forget about it - all business, nothing personal.

The match ends in a draw, and as much as each of them wanted to win such an important game, they both feel kind of relieved that neither of them did.

Flo finds Jamal in the locker rooms after the game. “So, a friendly 1:1 then?”

“I guess so. You guys did well though.”

Flo shrugs. “Could’ve done better.”

“Same about us.”

“Our training doesn’t start until Monday. Maybe I can convince the management and stay here in Munich for one more day”, Flo suggests.

“Sounds great”, Jamal lights up. “Drinks tonight, then?”

They hear a camera snap a picture of them talking.

“Goddammit”, Flo sighs. “They’ll be all about the “wirtziala” thing again for the next few days or so.”

“Whatever.” With the side of his eye Jamal catches Thomas giving Manu a kiss on the cheek as they’re exiting the locker rooms. “Maybe we should kiss just to spite the media?”

And so they do, later, when they’re out for drinks after the game, and when Flo stays over at Jamal’s place, and when they’re at the train station saying each other goodbye - only until next time.

[sterenheart]

Just another random idea, which I have no hope of writing because my WIP’s folder is out of control. If anyone else wants to write it, send me the link! 😂

[cher-rei]

hey could u do a comfort fic with trent alexander arnold where he’s maybe read stuff on the internet about him that are very hateful and the reader comforts him

reflection— [ T.A.A ]

but I love that man like nobody can [how to disappear- lana del rey]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: after his injury, comments start to flood trent's mind and you want nothing more than to make sure he knows that they aren't true.

genre(s): established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

[wc: 2.3k] masterlist

notes: while I'm writing this I can't stop thinking about cody and the amount of hate he's getting because of the united match. he's human too and the fact that people are going to his instragram and commenting the most horrible things about him and telling him to leave the club genuinely hurts my heart because he's so sweet and doesn't deserve any of this. it's normal for footballers to make mistakes and they have their bad days, but putting them down isn't going to make the situation any better. we're supposed to be supporting the team and not blaming individuals for a loss </3

it's strange how the people that swear that they're a clubs supporter can switch up on players over something as minuscule as missing a goal or losing a tackle. it's the way players get dragged for making human mistakes, but because of the pedestals they're put on it adds even more pressure.

the comparing of players, telling them to leave their clubs and so much more pile up on the list of hate they get. no matter how good of a footballer you were there was always going to hate thrown your way, chipping away at your self esteem ever so slowly.

trent was headstrong, he knew who he was and hardly took harsh comments and criticism to heart. it was one of the many things you admired about your boyfriend, the way that he was able to be better and prove people wrong so effortlessly.

but he was only human after all, and it was bound to get to him at some point. it was after his first match back after injury that everything happened. he acquired the knee injury against arsenal in january, recalling the exact moment you saw him limping and biting his jersey to ease the pain.

you were in the stands obviously, worried sick but he wasn't subbed off for whatever reason. while everyone was rejoicing the win you couldn't bring yourself to forget about his knee, immediately rushing to the tunnel so you could see him.

trent swore that he was fine but you were absolutely furious that he still played the full 90 minutes instead of asking for the medics to at least check up on him. that was water undet the bridge however, and he was put off for three weeks but even then you felt that it was too little recovery time.

and you were right of course but he was eager to be on the pitch again. you couldn't pass judgement there because of course he missed playing, he felt horrible for being at home and not having any way to contribute to the teams victories. so when they gave him the green light for the match against burnley he was ecstatic.

and you were happy for him, but that didn't push your worry to the back of your mind. and then it went south when he was subbed off before half time because he wasn't playing at his best. the entire time he was on the bench he was silent, his thoughts running wild and his heart heavy with disappointment.

you were watching the match from home so you immediate reaction was to message him, his dull responses taking shots at your heart.

when he got home that evening your heart shattered seeing him look so beaten up. all he did was drop his bags and come to lay with you on the couch, his head resting on your chest while you reassured him that everything was going to be fine.

trent barely spoke a word to you until the following afternoon when he got back from his physio assessment, in an even worse state than when he left. he was limping, his head hung low and motivation to do anything at its lowest.

you knew that he just needed some time alone before you tackled the situation, so you gave him his necessary space until he was ready to talk. but then the evening came when his side of the bed was empty, and when you checked your phone you were even more surprised to see that it was only 2 a.m.

you got out of bed in panic, immediately rushing downstairs to look for trent but all the lights were off. he wasn't in the kitchen, the living room or even in the backyard. by now your thoughts were running wild, shear panic settling on your chest until you heard the front door unlock.

trent walked in, his lips pursed. "why are you awake?" he took a few steps closer to you, confusion settling on his face. "do you know what time it is?"

a dry scoff left your lips in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing."

he went silent, not knowing what to say except apologise but you were fed up. you gave him his space and kept your worry to yourself, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did but your patience wore thin.

your expression hardened at the recollection of how distant he'd been the past week. "talk to me. please."

"there's nothing to talk about, I'm fine--"

"--that's absolute bullshit." your tone was harsh and it took him by surprise because you rarely raised your voice at anyone, let alone him.

he took a few weary steps closer only to see the tears walking up in your eyes. oh shit, what has he done?

"no baby, why are you crying?" he asked soothingly and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently stroking your back in comfort. his heart sunk at the few sniffles from your side, he couldn't believe that his injury had you crying.

you tightened your arms around his torso, an overwhelming feeling of hurt washing over you the more he comforted you. "because you're hurt."

he sighed. "and I'm getting better. the recovery is going well, honey."

you shook your head against his chest. "I'm not talking about your knee trent." you finally pulled away to look up at him with teary eyes, which didn't make him feel any better.

"I know you read the comments, and I know that you're taking them to heart this time but--" you swallowed the bile in your throat, the mere thought of all the hurtful comments having you sick to your stomach. "--but you're not talking to me about it and it makes me feel horrible because they're not true."

trent's heart had just been shattered to pieces, his lips parted in shock because you knew him so damn well. he had been reading the comments, and at first it didn't mean much but the more they came about, the harder it was to push it aside.

honestly the worse 45 minutes anyone had played this season. trent has exited his prime and it's showing.

this is who you guys call the best right back in the league?? have you seen that match against burnley? kyle walker over this dude any day.

he was good until he wasn't. sorry not sorry.

I'm sorry what was that play?? all he had to do was keep the ball for more than 2 seconds. this guy is a joke.

nah get this man out of my club, I can't anymore.

trent my man this is burnley we're talking about. what are you doing??

he's seen it all. and for the first time in years he let the negative comments get to him even though he knew better. and now here you were, standing in front of him teary eyed in the middle of the night because he wasn't man enough to talk to you— his own damn girlfriend.

a heavy sigh disturbed the silence and that was an indicator to you that he was ready to talk. he took your hand and lead you to the couch, making sure that you were settled down comfortably in front of him.

"you know when we played city the away fans were yelling at me when I went to take the corner," he began with a half hearted laugh. "apparently I'm a shit kyle walker."

your grip tightened on his hand instinctively, but you remained silent and listened to him express his concerns and thoughts on the entire ordeal. he brushed the kyle walker thing off and said that he found it rather amusing instead of hurtful.

"but after the arsenal game when I hurt my knee something just snapped I guess. and you were so worried when I got home too so I just wanted to get better because I don't want you to panic over my injuries."

a lump formed in your throat, the tears resurfacing but trent was quick to wipe them away. "and now people are saying that I played like absolute shit against burnley," he shook his head. "which is true by the way."

this was were you grew defensive. "you just came back from injury of course you weren't going to be in the best shape trent."

his eyebrows raised for a moment, a soft chuckle leaving his lips but you didn't find it funny at all. "ever since this whole thing you've been saying my name an awful lot."

that was surprisingly true. you were upset so of course you weren't going to call him something endearing. you were upset!

you cocked you head to the side, a judgemental look on your face that trent didn't want to worsen so he carried on talking. you weren't going to bed until he had everything out.

"anyway," he chuckled. "I've just been feeling really anxious and self conscious because what if they're telling the truth you know? like okay I score goals and I play well but what if that's just me thinking that?"

his breathing had begun to pick up and you were quick to notice, and alarm going off in your mind and telling you that he was nearing tears. trent groaned in frustration and shut his eyes in attempt to push the tears back.

he bent over to put his hands on his knees to try and calm himself down before you started crying as well. your hand was running up and down his back soothingly, only for him to get back up and take refuge in your arms.

everything was finally starting to pool out, and it broke you knowing that he felt this way and hadn't spoken to you because he didn't want you to worry. the dark living room was filled with his silent sobs that you tried to ease until your own started to fall.

you shut your eyes and held trent as close to you as possible, your shirt slightly wet because of his tears. you wondered how the other players felt when something similar happened to them, if they broke down in their partners' arms as well.

it wasn't easy for them to welcome the vulnerability you assumed— especially if it were over something like hate comments. but it was difficult and they were only trying their best.

"It's okay if you cry, baby. there's no need to apologise," you hushed when he said sorry. "It's normal to feel this way, you're human too and I can't tell you not to let those things get to your head but they're not true."

his silent sobs came to a subtle halt but his head remained on your shoulder as he listened to you speak so softly, telling him that everything was okay.

"you know what you're capable of so don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. as long as you know that you have people who support you and are rooting for you, nothing else should matter," you retorted reassuringly in hopes that it would help him realise that he didn't have to worry about things he couldn't control.

it was out of his hands, he lead the arsenal match in pain like a proper leader and that showed immense strength. instead of giving up he pulled through and made sure that the team was at their best before thinking about himself.

you put a small kiss to his temple. "I'm so proud of you. every single waking moment of every day, no matter what happens— I will always be proud of you for doing what you can."

this made trent smile when he finally got up to look at you with glossy eyes. "really?"

you nodded eagerly. "you breathe and I want to scream 'that's my boyfriend'."

that got a laugh out of him and he felt his heart strings tug. he loved you so much for standing by his side no matter what, for being patient and for just being you. he was grateful beyond comprehension and sometimes he felt that he didn't express his love for you the correct amount.

you deserved so much and here you were comforting him at the dead of night because he got insecure. his heart was overflowing just for you.

trent put his hand on your cheek and wiped away the stray tear that fell. "I'm sorry for making you worry. if I do it again just kick me out."

you laughed and his heart exploded. "oh, definitely. pull a stunt like this again and I'll feed you to the wolves."

his eyes widened a fraction. "okay, that's a bit too far."

you disagreed wholeheartedly and told him that it was the only correct form of punishment for the heart attacks that he gave you. "my heart broke like five times in this past week trent, so no."

he hummed and leant in for a kiss. "I'll fix it again I promise."

you felt yourself melt at the touch of his lips on yours— a tender kiss that held so much sincerity and love, an apology slipping through along with a silent I love you.

he pulled away and took a moment to look at you, drinking in every bit of your presence silently to which you hit him on the arm, a giddy smile and blush having you weak in the knees whereas he was mesmerised, not even realising that you had been trying to get his attention for a bit.

"earth to trent," you called and waved your hand in front of your face but he quickly caught it and pulled you closer to him, a yelp leaving your mouth before laughing.

"call me 'trent' one more time and we're going to have a problem," he said through a smile but you just played along, finding it amusing.

"oh really?" your tone was playful and he wasn't having any of it. "well trent wouldn't-- ah!"

your boyfriend had you lying on the couch in a fit of giggles, him hovering over you as he tickled you but stopping every so often to litter kisses on your face which you weren't fighting at all. because everyone needed a little love, right?

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ baby tears ✦.·:·.*

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x female oc (named her Astrid)

summary: in which having a child can be hard but with the help of someone it may feel better

author's note: @l4vines asked for some fluffy dad Trent so here is my attempt to deliver. also i need to change these headers i despise them now. as usual, not proofread.

warnings: mentions of postpartum anxiety/depression, baby blues (I’ll try to approach the subject as carefully as I can)

word count: 937

The small lamp on the nightstand lightened the wide master bedroom. Light snores resonated from Trent’s mouth as he slept peacefully. At his side sat his longtime girlfriend, Astrid, legs folded with their newborn son, Elijah, lying on them and eating his milk out of his bottle. She looked at his face, beams of light showcasing his lips’ movements. His eyes remained closed as his fingers gesticulated, trying to grip his bottle.

Elijah was born two months ago, after nine long eventful months. Astrid had to be bed-bounded for the last three months of her pregnancy, which left her very frustrated.

After his birth, she felt relieved to be alive and mostly to have a healthy son. Though Astrid tried to give him all the care he needed, it still didn’t feel right. She would feel the urge to cry anytime she interacted with Elijah. Even if she did everything right, she could not stop doubting herself. And now was no different.

Small tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Elijah eat slowly. The mix of her sniffs and the baby’s whimpers woke Trent up. He slowly moved around on the bed before turning to face his small family. He held a little smile on his face but it soon turned into a frown once he realised his partner crying. Again.

Trent knew this kind of episode happened to her, and they became even more frequent the past week. In a talk with his mom, she taught him about postpartum and how it was not always an easy and happy moment for the woman. After a few researches on his own, Trent feared she would suffer from postpartum depression or something close to it. He didn’t know how to talk to her about it but he could not bear seeing her that way anymore.

“Azzy” He called her by her childhood nickname.

She quickly wiped her cheeks in an attempt to hide her emotions from her boyfriend. He sat up, leaning on the headboard. Since he could not properly hold her, he simply left a kiss on her temple as tears uncontrollably rolled down her face.

“I can’t seem to get over this” Astrid sobbed, her head on his chest and her eyes glued on Elijah’s face. “He deserves so much better and I just don’t know how to give it to him”

“You already do. You handle Elijah with as much care as you can give him, despite doubting yourself. No matter how you feel, you’re always there for him” His words definitely comforted her and soothed an inner wound that desperately needed it. “Elijah trusts you, now you need to trust yourself and know how much of a good mother you are”

“Thank you so much, Trent. Genuinely.” She put the baby bottle away about to place Elijah on her shoulder for him to burp “You don’t know how much it means to me”

“That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep Az, I got him” He grabbed Elijah out of her hold placing him on his shoulder as Astrid laid back down under the covers, trying to doze off.

A few minutes later, she felt Trent get back into the bed, instantly wrapping his arms around her waist.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

In the following weeks, Trent made sure to be as supportive as he could of Astrid. He made sure to uplift her every day and compliment her so that she felt better not only about her parenting but also about herself. Slowly but surely, she gained more and more confidence as a woman and also as a mother.

“Give me the wipes,” Astrid asked as she lifted Elijah’s lower body up to change him.

Trent did as asked watching her eyebrows knit from her concentration. He observed her movements, and how soft she was whenever she touched him. He also listened to how she talked him through the process even though the newborn did not understand one bit. She was the best mother ever in his eyes, now it was her turn to see it.

Astrid finished dressing Elijah back up before giving him to Trent while she put the products away. She came back to the living room to a cute interaction between the two men of her life: Trent kissing their son’s face repeatedly, earning a smile and what could be a laugh from the newborn.

She joined them on the couch, sitting on her right leg as she smiled, looking at them.

“You’re good?”

She knew he didn’t mean it as of today but in general.

“Yeah, better since that night we talked. And I would not feel that way if it was not for you. You really helped me a lot”

“That’s what I’m here for” 

And he meant it. The moment he decided to get into a relationship with her three years ago, he accepted having to deal with anything she went through by her side. Even more, now that they had become a family.

“You’re ready for tomorrow?” He turned to face her but she broke eye contact.

“Not really. But it’s a step at getting better.”

They both decided that it could be good for Astrid to see a therapist, just to let her feelings out and receive some guidance. Trent even offered to go with her but she emphasized wanting these sessions to be for her only, where she was free to vent, with nobody she knew around her.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, don’t forget it” Trent spoke truthfully, her face blushing from his comment.

“I love you, Azzy”

“I love you too, Trent”

like, repost and suggest (closing on september 1st) (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

[todayisafridaynight]

Funny thing: i was under the impression that minedai is a rather larger ship. Like, if you were to ask me, I'd say it's like the second/third biggest one after kazumaji, and now you're telling me it's small? Was i living in a lie all this time??? Who wrote all those fics on ao3 then?

relative to other rgg pairings and excluding any that don't involve kiryu or majima, it is probably the second largest pairing. though considering most general art and works consist majorly of the first two, it's weird to acknowledge sometimes

[blueaetherr]

he’s gonna love them

pairing: kylian mbappe x gn!reader [they/them]

warning(s): none

summary: the one about safety and security in the relationship

now playing: gonna love me by teyana taylor

The young day provided a calm atmosphere, the sun hanging low yet offering a sense of warmth in an area so cold. The wind came through, too, as the breeze slipped passed the opening of the windows. The sun and her heat, the wind and his chills—suddenly, there was balance, for the day and everyone else offered the opportunity to experience it to its fullest.

The couple, Kylian ad Y/N, who were lounging in bed, softly laughing, curling up into one another, gave a sense of balance to one another. When he told a joke, they would laugh (even if it wasn't funny). When there was one kiss, another kiss would follow soon after. When he opened up his arms, they would roll back into his embrace. If they were feeling the slightest touch of pain, he would soothe it with an acute massage.

It was only late morning and the young couple didn't want to get out of bed; they refused to. The idea itself, getting ready for the day, was exhausting simply just thinking about it. But they knew they couldn't be selfish. There was so much to do– Kylian with football and Y/N with their tasks for the today– so many other people they had to interact with—just so much this and that to attend to. Beyond one another, the two were needed by others far beyond their home.

But laying low from the outside world, escaping the tasks of the day, calmly drifting in and out of sleep, exchanging meaningful (and less) laughs and conversations. Sleeping in with your lover—Kylian sleeping in with his lover, Y/N sleeping in with their lover—the idea was all too pretty and attractive to pass up on, something so cherishing that you shouldn't want to miss out on. Maybe they could be a bit selfish for a minute and more.

The mood, low and quiet, soon kindly elevated when Kylian's hums began to float around the room. And that's when Y/N came through with a smile, one that was dimpled and reached their eyes perfectly as they cuddled into his body. It was their favourite song, Gonna Love Me. With nothing else to do, they just sat back and listened to him, admiring everything that was their partner.

Because Kylian also saw everything that was his partner. Always did he want to hug and squeeze them with so much love and dote. He loved spending his nights with them, and he did appreciate them (through lyrics and his own originality). He would stay up late if it meant witnessing them for a second when they got back home late. There was no doubt that Y/N felt safe and secure with Kylian.

When his hums fell low in the room, a playful look appeared on Y/N's face. "I don't think that's how Teyana sings it."

"Really?" His eyes widened before he let out a small chuckle. He should've known; Y/N was far too judgemental yet somehow, in a good way, in a way that he didn't mind. He fell back on the bed. "I thought I hummed it pretty well."

Y/N scoffed, shaking their head. "Then you must not be hearing yourself. I think—" They were cut off as Kylian pulled them back down on the bed, climbing over them to offer his playful words and body touch. In this short but sweet moment, there were laughs and kisses and overall enjoyment. Nothing less than the most.

Exhaling loudly, they turned their head to look his way. Once again, they offered him a smile, one that was kind and sincere. Tooking his hand into theirs, they declared, "Thank you, Kylian."

His face pulled together, confused, something Y/N always found adorable. "For what?"

"I love this. Just—" they let their hands run over his bare shoulders, sighing, "just being here with you every day. It's both a blessing and a curse." The two shared a small laugh together. When it all fell flat, they leaned further into his embrace, "But I'll side more with it being a blessing."

Slowly but surely, Kylian's face burst with happiness as he brought his partner close. Felt happiness for himself, felt happiness for Y/N. 'Cause that's all he wanted for them.

When he sings or hums, he wanted them to feel deeply serenaded. When he cooks, he wanted them to feel nourished and whole. When the two get intimate, he wanted to make them feel good, physically and emotionally. When he takes them out on a date, he wanted them to feel overwhelmingly loved and cherished for who they were. When he wraps his arms around them, he wanted them to feel safe.

That's all he cared about; Y/N. If they were okay then everything else would be alright.

[coyidk]

Stupid Reminder - new ff

I just uploaded my new story "stupid reminder" to Ao3. Go read it! :)

Alisson wakes up on his period when he doesn't expect it. Devasted by it, he doesn't know what to do. Luckily he has Virgil to help him through all his struggles.

@anfieldroad I actually left out what we talked about, but I added a piece of you as a surprise ;)

[mxryxmfooty]

are you ever going to make a fic?

maybeee…

(sooner then u guys think x)

[cityzenchick]

Here we are starting 2024 and it's time to reflect on all the amazing footballer fanfiction we have read here on tumblr in 2023! 👏

Firstly a huge thank you to those writers who regularly post their superb 'free' stories for our enjoyment (nomatter what club or player they are writing about!!) 🫶

How lucky are we to be able to read romantic angsty smutty fics about the players we love (and lust over🥵!) - gifted to us daily by our favourite tumblr writers?? They enable our sexy footy dreams to come true via their ideas and creativity! 🥰

So, next time you read a chapter or imagine on here that you love, don't just ❤️ it - let the author know they are appreciated and let them know which bits you loved best 😉 👏👍

Footballer Fanfiction is my Addiction ⚽️❤️💋